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#implied past domestic abuse
whumpacabra · 15 days
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Chapter 3. Minnows
Anticipated violence, angst, touch starvation, comfort, past trauma, past whump of a minor [11], past abuse, implied past domestic abuse
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Rain thrummed steadily against the thin windowpanes, wind rattling the half-rotted shutters on their rusted hinges. From the exterior, the shack was hardly fit for habitation, the stilts that held it above the sandbar worn by the relentless sea. But from those thin windows a warmth bled through into the stormy night. The four walls of that sea shack encompassed a universe to the child’s eyes. The distance between the molded but sweet-smelling hay mattresses where he slept with his mother was miles from the kitchen, where his mother stood, stirring a stew that bubbled over the bright coals.
“Do you have to go?” His voice was small and timid. His mother never complained how softly he spoke; she always heard him.
“It’s just for the night, I’ll be back by morning my little minnow.” She didn’t look away from her work, although the tilt of her head told him she could hear his footsteps across the room. He wrapped his arms around her waist – he was still so small, hardly tall enough to reach – and pressed his face into her side as thunder shook the shack. “I always come back before dawn, you’ll wake up to fresh clams and –”
“You always come back sad and hurt,” He whimpered, tiny hands gripping the faded red fabric of her skirt. “I hate him.”
Such a small body, shaking with fear – and rage – it couldn’t contain, wracked by unbidden tears.
“Oh, little minnow…”
Her voice broke as she set down the ladle and dropped to her knees, wrapping her son in her arms and holding his shaking form to her chest. Her dark, curling hair covered him like a shroud of seaweed, hiding the lightning flashes from his eyes and muffling the thunder. She was crying too, her tears twice as salty with grief and age.
“Want to know a secret?” She whispered into his hair, cracking a smile in spite of the tears that trailed from her red rimmed eyes as he murmured confirmation. “I hate him too.” She sobbed again, breathing the warmth of the thin broth stew and her child’s salt crusted hair.
“Then – why? Why do you go to – to him?”
“When you’re older you’ll understand.” She rocked her baby gently as she spoke, humming a song she couldn’t quite remember the words of until his tears had stopped. “Little minnow?”
“Hm?”
“I’m going to keep you safe.” Her hands gently tilted his face so that his dark eyes met her own. “He doesn’t visit like he used to, right? You don’t have to be near him, and he can’t be near you if I go to him.”
“It’s not fair,” The boy sobbed, fresh tears slipping through attempted anger.
“I know, my heart, I know.” She kissed the tears from his cheeks, eyes sparkling in the light of the coals. “But I think…I think I’m getting close, to finding – to finding what we need to leave. Forever.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” She picked him up in her arms, the few strides from the kitchen to his bed crossed in silence. “And once I find what we need, we can go anywhere you can dream of.”
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere. Far, far away from him.”
--
Finn felt unraveled, a string of a shirt hem pulled undone but still trying to fit its old shape outside of its needle threaded place. Each breath seemed to shred his lungs, the air damp but tinged with a comforting sweetness he couldn’t quite place. Bleary eyes blinked away sleep, quickly adjusting to the darkness. The familiar pitch and roll of a ship at sea rocked a sword on the wall like the pendulum on a masterclock, constant and consistent.
Memory caught in his throat as he breathed too deeply the realization, a hacking cough silenced to a muffled and painful shudder of his chest. Pirates. Tears pricked at his eyes as he sat up, whether from the ache of broken ribs or the thoughts swimming in his frantic skull he couldn’t tell. Pirates killed, tortured, and did worse to prisoners. And as memory flooded back like a returning tide, Finn feared his fate would be the latter.
Tears slid silently down his face as his breathing quickened, an angry voice in his memory scoffing at his composure.
“Quit your sniffling. Crying won’t make it hurt less. It just makes you look more fun to hurt.”
Finn breathed deliberately, curling his hands into fists, and focusing on the fissures of pain between his fingers instead of his terrifying thoughts. Something gurgled in the darkness, and his eyes fought to find the source. Nothing stirred in the room, but as the noise returned, he located the source.
His long empty stomach. When had he last eaten? He couldn’t remember.
His eyes were drawn to the wooden tray beside the bed, divots carved into its surface to hold the cup and deep plate it held even as the sea rocked the ship. He couldn’t tell what liquid might be inside the wooden cup, but the thin crust of bread poked out over the lip of the plate. He licked his cracked lips, tasting only dried blood. Just a piece – no one would even notice, there are always rats stealing crumbs on ships.
But just as his fingers twitched toward the food, the door creaked open, spilling candlelight onto the floor like liquid gold.
Finn froze completely. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t blink – he just watched the pirate shuffle into the room, steps awkwardly short and careful. The stranger turned his head and also froze, staring back at Finn. He sighed, tense shoulders dropping, and any pretense of stealth dropped.
“Sorry about that, boy,” His voice was softer than Finn imagined a pirate sounding, a gentle accent cloaking his words in wool. “Didn’t mean to wake ye, just wanted to grab my…” The pirate trailed off, gesturing vaguely with a hand before sighing again. He was holding his other arm tightly to his side, shoulder stiff.
Finn stared, unbreathing. The stranger must not have liked that, his thick black brow stitching together. Panic fluttered in the boy’s chest, a fledgling throwing clumsy wings against broken ribs as he drew a slow breath and the pirate’s posture shifted.
“Do you remember me, Finn?” The pirate took a hesitant step forward, and Finn didn’t move – there wasn’t anywhere to run or hide in the small room anyway. But he did steal a glance at the still open door when his name left that man’s lips. The stranger took a step back and gestured to himself with a flourish and bow. “Captain Flint of the Gorgon, at your service!”
Memories trickled like water behind a cracking dam. He remembered darkness and the smell of gunpowder. Then light and shouting and sun on his skin. Then darkness again, the stickiness of spilt ink and sweat. He gave an uncertain nod, hoping to appease the captain’s toothy smile. It seemed to work, Captain Flint straightening and his smile softening.
“Had me worried for a breath there, kid.” The ship pitched, cresting a wave, but the pirate’s steps were steady as he crouched in front of the bed. “How are you feeling? Hungry?”
Yes. But he couldn’t just – was this a test? Was he supposed to answer at all? Finn’s eyes flicked between the captain’s face and the bread beside the bed. Captain Flint nodded to the tray.
“The bread is for you. And the water. Can’t heal if you don’t take care of yourself. Eat, drink – let me know if you want more. I’m sure I can scrounge something up at this hour.” The captain’s eyes were watching, waiting – Finn wanted to hide, to go back to that cargo hold and that box of –
Right. The pelts.
Panic burned bright in Finn’s chest, creeping up his throat and clawing past his teeth in a strangled whine, a tremor working its way up his spine as he felt a frantic need to find that pelt again, to –
“Easy, easy, boy – it’s – you’re alright. You’re alright.”
Finn didn’t understand the pirate – he was not alright. He – pirates were monsters. The Lieutenant and the other officers – their stories about the – the murder and the torture and – and how any pirate would kill him slowly and painfully – and that was if they were merciful and didn’t want to keep him –
“You, you need to calm down, kid.” The captain sat down on the bed, an unsure, calloused hand taking Finn’s own, mindful of his bandages as a thumb stroked over the back of his hand. “You need to breathe, Finn.”
His name made him flinch, eyes snapping from the open door (a way out, escape, freedom – ) to the captain’s eyes. There was worry pinching Captain Flint’s sun weathered face, brow knit and dark eyes swelling with an emotion Finn had never seen directed at himself before. Finn was so scared, but the captain was so worried for him it broke his spiral of despair. His hand twitched, fingers loosely curling to squeeze the pirate’s hand.
“There, there – see? You’re alright. You’re fine, boy. You’re safe here. No one’s gonna hurt you. Not on my ship.”
Finn knew it was smarter to assume it was a lie. He knew it was safer to assume the vile pirate captain was lulling him into a false sense of security, and he should be prepared for the worst.
“You should be grateful, whelp. We’re kinder than any pirate or exile on these seas.”
And yet, something almost instinctive made him reach out, begging comfort from a stranger who had threatened to lash him but didn’t, who hadn’t yelled at or hurt him when he spilled ink, who gave him food and water and promised him safety –
The boy buried his face in the captain’s chest and cried, sniffling sobs turning to keening whimpers when the pirate returned the embrace with an unsure arm. But Finn wasn’t strangled or crushed or clawed at, just… hugged.
How long had it been since someone hugged him?
The last hug he remembered, the last soft touch, the last gentle eyes and hands and words… it must have been his mother.
At that thought his sobs renewed, both bandaged hands grasping at the stranger’s coat as though he would dissolve without this lifeline, swept away in the torrent of grief and fear and sorrow. Captain Flint hummed softly, holding Finn to his chest and combing fingers through his tangled ringlets. In his haze of exhaustion and grief, Finn could almost remember the dream that had woken him. Almost.
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kittenfangirl20 · 20 days
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*Lucifer remembered how he used to beg for Lilith to come back to him, now he would give anything for her to just go away again, it started when he asked her where she had been for the last seven years and she slapped him hard enough to knock out one of his fangs, thankfully Lucifer instantly regrew them like a shark, but it still hurt and he never thought that Lilith would strike him like that, she started to pinch him hard enough to leave little bruises on his body while making comments about how he was too skinny for her liking, she would side with Alastor whenever he got into one of his many arguments with the Radio Demon, she even said that it was too bad that Alastor was aroace because he would be a better husband and father than he was, hearing those words made him lock himself lock himself in his private quarters of the hotel and cry for an entire day since those words hurt him so much, Lilith forced herself into the room and yelled at him until she had punched him leaving him stunned with a black eye, he was sitting on the bed trembling when he heard someone walk into the room, he felt a pair of clawed hands gently touch his face and made him look up into Adam’s gold eyes*
Adam: I started noticing you pull many of the same avoidance tactics I did when I was in Eden with Lilith. When did this start?
*Lucifer’s one good eye widened in shock, Lilith hurt Adam too, he wanted to deny it but he remembered how the first man would flinch in fear at the mention of Lilith in Eden, how Adam used to get mysterious bruises on his body that Lilith said he got from being a clumsy oaf, Adam didn’t say anything and got some ice wrapped up in a wash cloth and put it on the black eye*
Lucifer: It started the night she came back and I asked her where she had been for the last seven years. Why didn’t you tell anyone that Lilith hurt you?
Adam: I did and the other angels acted like I was to blame for it because as the man I was supposed to be in control. They would say I was bigger and stronger so I should be able to keep her from hitting me. But the one time I fought back, they said I was too rough with her because I was bigger and stronger than her so it would be easier for me to hurt her. I could do nothing right, so I just took it. It was a relief that she ran away, but she had to make it painful by taking you with her.
Lucifer: Adam……………..
*Lucifer noted the tears shining in Adam’s eyes and the two just sat there and quietly cried just wanting to to be with the other person*
Lucifer: Please stay with me, I don’t want to be alone if she comes back.
*Adam nods and pulls Lucifer into his arms as he lays down, Lucifer starts to fall asleep wondering what it would have been like if he took Adam out of Eden instead of Lilith*
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inorganicone2230 · 1 year
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Purity (Finale Part 2 of 2) Yandere!Overhaul x Fem!Reader
Finale Part 1 of 2
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Summary: Overhaul meets a quirkless foreigner who holds some very interesting views on his way of thinking. The more time he spends with her, the more he wants to keep her and her purity for himself. And he has no problem with falling to the depths of obsession if it means getting what he wants.
Other Warnings: Trigger warnings, mentions of past domestic and physical abuse, blackmail, referenced kidnapping, referenced rape, referenced physical abuse/torture, emotional and mental manipulation, toxic relationship, gaslighting, forced pregnancy, VERY YANDERE!!! See tags for more…
Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this and future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.
“Good night, Mama.” Kazue’s sleepy little voice whispered as you watched him snuggle down so far into his pillow and blankets that all you could see was his head of chestnut hair, a perfectly matched shade and cut to Kai’s.
“Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.” You replied, smiling and quietly closing the door just enough that some light from the hallway would leak in for him before moving onto Eri’s room. 
Kazue was such an easy child to raise, probably because he took after his father in so many ways. He adored Kai and wanted to be just like him when he grew up, and it was a notion that you were still slowly coming to terms with. Now that he had a better handle on it, Kai and some of the other Precepts were just beginning to teach him how to fight and use his quirk, which had developed a little over a year ago and it was giving you some major anxiety, even if, rationally, you knew it was a necessary thing to do. He was your baby boy after all, and you hated the thought of him being put in any kind of danger, regardless if it was in a controlled environment or not. But, as Kai had so logically pointed out, he needed to learn how to control his quirk early on, because if he didn’t, he could become a serious threat to himself and to others.
The question of whether or not Kazue would even develop a quirk at all was always a hot topic amongst those in yours and Kai’s ‘inner circle’, what with you being quirkless and all, and a few of them, your sister included, had even started betting on the outcome. So the day it finally happened, when Kazue had been throwing a rarely seen temper tantrum and unintentionally overhauled a small toy that had been in his hand, it came as a bit of a shock.
As expected, Kazue’s own quirk was nearly identical to Kai’s in every way, except for one, that being his didn’t work on organic material. Kai had actually breathed a sigh of relief when that particular detail had come to light.
When you asked him about it that night, as the two of you laid in bed and he rested the side of his head on your stomach while you traced idle patterns on the skin of his bare back. He told you the story of how his quirk was so late to develop, that he was actually thought to be quirkless himself. His birth parents weren’t kind people by any means, and having a supposedly quirkless son was like receiving a slap in the face to them. His mother, thankfully, ignored him most of the time, but his father was much more keen on showing his displeasure via his fists, and one day, during a particularly harsh beating, he’d lifted a hand to try and fend off a punch to the face, and the moment his father’s fist collided with it, he’d exploded in a shower of blood and gore. His mother had come in only a few seconds later, took one look at the bloody sight and fainted before she could even scream. He’d walk out of the house right after that, with nothing but the clothes he had on, and he never once bothered to look back.
He’d only been ten at the time, and he spent the next year and a half living on the streets. He practiced alone and taught himself how to use and control his quirk, learning its limits and what exactly he could do with it, scavenging for food in dumpsters or stealing what he needed from other street rats or homeless people. And that’s how he’d lived, until the old man, Pops, had found him and taken him in.
That’s why he was so relieved that Kazue wouldn’t ever have to worry about accidentally overhauling anyone. He didn’t feel guilty about how his father died, but he didn’t want his own son to have to go through the potential guilt if he unintentionally hurt a loved one. 
Kai, as a father, did have many good qualities that you could see your children picking up on, like his excellent manners and his penchant for cleanliness and organization, but there were also many you hoped they would never inherit or try to emulate, like his anger and controlling attitude. But even those traits had tempered over the years since your son’s birth, and though you still harbored a deep resentment in regards to the hand life had dealt you, you were now a big enough person to admit that Kai was a wonderful father. It didn’t erase his past sins or mean he was now an inherently better person, because you knew that his newfound gentleness and more mellow temper only extended to a select few people outside of you and the children, but it was a continued step in a better direction. And given the circumstances that brought you all to this point, you could surmise that this was better than nothing.
As you approached Eri’s bedroom a little ways down the hall, you smiled at the brightly painted purple door. It was adorned with a multitude of colorful stickers, ranging from pretty butterflies and fairies, to cartoonishly styled items of food; like a dancing hamburger and a very shiny pile of takoyaki. But what stood out the most was the chalkboard she had hung there last year. She wrote down a weekly list of everything she planned on cooking for the week and encouraged everyone who had access to it to write down suggestions. There was even a step stool left next to the door so that she and Kazue could easily reach it.
And speaking of Kazue, you noticed right away that he had jotted down, in his own messy script, a suggestion for homemade dino-nuggies, and right below that was an agreement from Rappa, though he had specified that they be manly dino-nuggies, whatever that meant. Even Kai had made a suggestion, this one for the beef stew with star anise, the very same one she’d been making the first time she called him ‘Papa’. It was a personal favorite of his, and while you weren’t sure if Eri knew the specific reason as to why, she always made it every time he asked for it.
Knocking on the door, you waited to be given permission before entering.
Eri, now eleven years old, was sitting up in her pink canopy bed, the room bathed in the twinkling of tea lights and the warm glow of the lamps she preferred to use for lighting over the brighter overhead light.
She was writing down notes in one of her many journals while she watched a cooking show on the TV and smiled when you came in. It came as quite the surprise to you when Kai got her the large flat-screen and set it up with a few streaming services for her, especially since he normally didn’t care for television in the slightest. When you asked him about it, he told you that he just wanted to do what he could to encourage her passions, and since he couldn’t hire a teacher or send her to a culinary school, for obvious reasons, this was the next best option he could think of. He even got her a tablet that she could use for when she was in the kitchen, to look things up and watch videos for more complicated steps and recipes.
Like with all things though, Kai had certainly covered all his bases where this aspect of your lives was concerned.
Any devices you all had access to were specifically designed and programmed to avoid being able to contact anyone from the outside world. Kai controlled all the passwords and had the internet usage heavily monitored at all times, and while you tried your best to ignore that detail, you wouldn’t deny that you had tried logging into some of your old social media accounts on your own tablet back when he first gifted it to you, only to find that access to such sites were totally blocked. You couldn’t even contact site moderators or IT for any of the sites and apps you were permitted to use.
“Hey there, Sweetheart!” You said cheerfully, pushing all those thoughts to the back of your mind as you closed the door behind you.
“Hey, Mama! What’s up?” She asked, scooting over to make room for you on the bed.
You took a seat beside her. “Nothing much, I just got Kazue to finally settle down for the night and I thought I’d come say good night to you.” You peeked at her notebook and then up at the television where a man in a stage kitchen was currently explaining how to make what appeared to be a somewhat complicated looking pastry dish, possibly a soufflé from the looks of it. “What new delicacy are you coming up with now?” You asked her.
“A dessert omelet!” She replied, her eyes shining like they always did when talking about food. “I have some eggs and fruit I need to use up, so I thought I’d give this recipe a try and fill them with fresh fruit and maybe some honey or whipped cream.” 
You couldn’t help but smile at the eagerness and joy that laced her tone. This beautiful young lady sitting beside you was so far removed from the lonely, isolated and abused child you had met all those years ago that they may as well have been two completely different people. She hadn’t been triggered or had a nightmare about the past in so long, and you prayed every day that they would never return and she could stay this happy forever and always.
“I look forward to trying them!” You told her. “I never would have thought about treating an omelet like a crepe, but now that you’ve mentioned it, it definitely sounds like it could be a good combination.” 
Eri smiled and nodded along happily. “I know Papa will probably want strawberries with his, and since he doesn’t care for anything super sweet, I bet I can replace the whipped cream with slightly sweetened yogurt or cream cheese.” She tapped her pencil against her chin and rattled off a list of all the items she had and what everyone would likely prefer with their omelet before turning to you. “Is there anything special that you want with yours, Mama?” 
You thought about it for a moment. “I definitely want some mandarin slices in mine, but other than that, it's the chef's choice.”
She smiled at you, as bright as the sun and quickly made a note of it in her journal and you got up to gather her dirty clothes into the hamper, intending to do some laundry tonight or tomorrow.
“Hay, Mama?” You heard her ask a few moments later, and the suddenly morose tone to her usually chipper voice had you immediately turning to give her your full attention.
Her head was downcast and you could see that whatever was on her mind, it was enough to make her feel like she couldn’t make eye contact with you.
“What is it, honey?” You asked gently, giving her plenty of time to voice what it was she wanted to say while you took up your seat beside her again.
“Well… it’s just…” She trailed off, biting her bottom lip and nervously wringing her hands in her lap before she finally got the words out.
“You’re not… upset or anything?”
You blinked at her like an owl, completely confused as to what she could be referring to. Had you done or said something to make her believe you were upset with her? Or had you made a negative looking facial expression?
“Eri, sweetheart, why would you think that?” You asked her worriedly. “What’s this about?”
She shrugged her slim shoulders and ducked her head further down. “I don’t know.” She whispered softly. “I guess I just got worried that my question from earlier today had upset you. You seemed really shocked by it and I can’t stop thinking that I did something wrong by mentioning it.”
It took your brain a second to catch up with what she was saying, but when it did, you breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded to wrap her up in a tight hug.
“Oh, my baby girl, you don’t need to worry about that.” You assured her, kissing the top of her head. “It did surprise me when you asked it, but not in a bad way, and I’d certainly never get upset with you for voicing anything like that out loud. You didn’t do anything wrong and I am so sorry if my reaction made you think that you had.” You gave her another tight squeeze. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t ask me things or be open with me about your thoughts and feelings. You understand?”
You felt her relax, lean into the embrace and nod in confirmation. “Thanks, Mama.” She said, nuzzling her head under your chin and you could hear the smile in her voice. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. Always and forever.”
—————
You were in the midst of folding some of the laundry when Kai finally walked into the bedroom and he flashed you a tired smile as he came over to plant a small kiss on the apple of your cheek, one of the few physical touches you permitted him. You weren’t sure why you allowed it, in fact, you couldn’t even really remember when exactly you had started to allow it, but it never really seemed like a big deal, so it continued.
“How was your day?” He asked, his tone sounding exhausted, but he seemed content as he took a pile of the folded clothes from you and walked over to start depositing them in the drawers of one of the dressers.
“Same as usual.” You replied, hanging another one of his shirts on a hanger to put in his closet later and hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the strained nervousness in your voice. “How about yours, did the meeting go well?”
You saw his back go rigid for half a second before he resumed sorting the clothes into their respective drawers. “No.” He replied tightly. “Tensions were high, insults were thrown, and it ended… badly for them.”
You knew that particular phrase was code for ‘they did something to piss me off and now they’re all dead’. It was a notion you wished wholeheartedly that you weren’t so familiar with, especially not when it was an aspect of life your own son was going to have to face and deal with one day when he really started to learn the ropes from Kai, but it was undeniably a part of your life that you had, sadly, just gotten used to. And you hated yourself even more when you felt yourself biting back a small smile, because you knew exactly what it was that had put him on edge and set him off today.
You truly hadn’t meant to let his name slip out last night, but you couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the way his cock used to fill you up so perfectly, and you had been so deep in the fantasy that it had just rolled off your tongue without a second thought.
Kai had well and truly ruined you forever, you couldn’t even get off anymore without thinking of him or having him in the room with you. You knew how wrong it all was, how sick it made you, and you’d certainly berated yourself enough for it over the years. Every time you let your thoughts drift to him when you touched yourself, you hated yourself for not feeling as guilty about it as you probably should have. Every time you watched and listened to him fuck himself with his own hand, with your name on his lips, you felt yourself rising higher and higher to new forms of self loathing because you know your continued participation in, whatever this was between the two of you, was all the encouragement he needed. It was wrong on so many levels, but at some point in the last few years, you weren’t sure when exactly, you had completely given up on trying to quell those feelings and desires. It didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it after the fact, but you eventually learned that, in order to hold onto your sanity, you needed to take what comforts you could in your situation.
And physical touch had been the start of it.
You fought off that need for contact as long as you could, that urge you felt to be held in a strong embrace, and not just anyone’s arms, but his, in Kai’s specifically. And it all came to a head that night, when he’d told you about his adoptive father’s passing and you’d opened up your arms to him for the first time. You told yourself that it was mutually beneficial, that you’d get to have that itch scratched a little and you wouldn’t have to explain your reasoning too much because it could be written off as an act of compassion for the grieving father of your children. It was a win-win situation all around… or it should’ve been, if you weren’t so weak.
The familiarity of his warm body pressing against you like that had been like a balm that you hadn’t even realized you’d needed and missed until that moment.
You told yourself that you would secretly enjoy it only for as long as the night allowed and then you’d go cold turkey again, but when that next evening rolled around and the itch only grew worse, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it again, and again, and again. Every night, for months afterward, you told yourself that it would be the last, but the last night never came, and after a while, you stopped trying to fool yourself all together.
But reacquainting yourself with the intimate feel of Kai’s body during these nightly embraces had the unfortunate side effect of slowly reawakening yet another urge you now seemed wholly incapable of controlling. 
Your libido. 
When you caught Kai in the act of getting himself off that day in his office, you suddenly realized that your memory did him a great disservice. You had forgotten just how thick he was, even when compared against the size of his own large hand, the way his face looked when he was lost in pleasure, how he would grit his teeth as he tried to hold back his orgasm for as long as possible, even the way his eyes would glaze over and grow heavy lidded when release finally washed over him, all of those details were pale and drab within the confines of your memory. You’d been so desperate to get away, not just because you were disgusted with him and knowing he was watching what could only be his own personal spank-bank material featuring you and he, but because you had a brief thought that maybe you should just put yourself out of your misery and go climb into his lap and sink down on his cock. That thought, no matter how fleeting it might have been, was too much for you to handle and made you feel so unbelievably dirty.
You’d tried to ignore it, had tried to suppress that freshly reawakened feeling for the remainder of the day, but it just got worse and worse as the day wore on. Because unlike Kai, you hadn’t taken the time to get yourself off in the years since Kazue was born, not even once.
Once you were no longer being forced to endure an overwhelming amount of sexual stimulation, you found that you just had no desire to partake in it of your own accord for quite some time. That’s not to say the urge wasn’t there, you just didn’t have the mindset to want to indulge it. Kai’s treatment of your body had left you feeling disgusted with yourself. You knew that it wasn’t true and none of it had been your fault, but all the same, you still felt used and dirty. The day you woke up after your accident and Kai informed you of his decision to end all the intimacy of your relationship, you had accused him of being a sex addict, but for a while there afterwards, you didn’t feel like you were much better.
And the weeks and months following the accident had been… difficult, to say the least.
Without Kai’s hands constantly grabbing for you in his usual touch-starved manner, you almost felt more naked than all the times before when he’d actually had you bare before him. Intimacy with him had become such a common and expected occurrence in your day to day life, and when it suddenly stopped so abruptly, you honestly hadn’t been too sure what to do or how to feel. No matter how uncomfortable and unwanted the feeling was, no matter how much you tried telling yourself that it wasn't true, you genuinely felt like you had no other value outside of what pleasures your body could offer him.
But that one night, after spending the whole day with thoughts of him clouding your mind, all you had wanted was to make him suffer just the tiniest bit alongside you. 
Your little stunt with the vibrator had been a risky gamble, and a small part of you had been understandably worried that it would backfire on you and cause him to snap. But a much larger part, that part that was now capable of silently admitting to yourself what a wonderful father he was, that was the piece of you that knew he wouldn’t do anything, that he’d likely never do anything to hurt you ever again.
If nothing else, Kai had proven himself in that regard at the very least these last few years, and…
“(Y/N)?”
You jerked back in surprise when you felt warm fingers brushing your cheek and came out of your engrossing thoughts to find Kai kneeling before you with a look of confused worry on handsome face.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He asked gently. “I called out to you a few times, but you’ve just been staring blankly at that shirt you’re holding.”
You looked down to where he indicated at your hands and, sure enough, you had been wringing the fabric in your clammy hands so much that it was totally wrinkled and would need to be thrown back in the dryer for a few minutes.
Looking back up at him, you did your best to give him a reassuring smile and set the now wrinkled shirt aside and picked up another one to fold.
“I’m fine, I just have something on my mind, it’s nothing to worry about, I promise.” You told him, praying that he’d drop it and leave it alone, even as a small traitorous hope for the exact opposite bloomed in your chest when you remembered that this was Kai Chisaki you were dealing with, the man was completely incapable of dropping anything if he thought it was a hindrance on your well-being or mental state. His forceful pushiness might have mellowed out over the years, but just because his tactics had changed didn’t mean he hadn’t found other ways of getting you to talk to him about the things on your mind.
He stiffened a bit, probably not thrilled that you were keeping things from him, even if you told him they were inconsequential, but he nodded and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before slowly rising back up to his feet.
“If you’re sure, just know that I’m here if you want to talk about it.” He picked up the last little pile of clothes to put away in the drawers and walked back over to the dresser, but he continued to speak. “I know you usually talk to your sister about the things that trouble you, and what with our history together, I can’t reasonably blame you for not wanting to let me in, but I’d truly like for you to share your burdens with me, even if you think I won’t like what you have to say.”
The words he spoke rolled around in your mind at lightning speed for only a handful of seconds as you contemplated just how much what you were considering could fuck everything up for you and everyone else if it went sour, Kai included, but in the end, you found yourself unable to hold them back this time.
“Eri just asked me a question today that I wasn’t sure how to properly respond to, that’s all.”
You tried to say the sentence as nonchalantly as possible, but it still felt as if you blurted them out like utter word vomit and you cringed.
If Kai noticed or cared about that detail though, he didn’t even so much as show it, however, you could see a notable change in his posture, even with his back still turned he now had every single one of his senses trained on you, totally eager to listen to whatever it was you had to say, no matter how mundane or trivial it might be. You didn’t often talk to him about things that you found stressful or upsetting, even when those topics concerned the children, not unless you felt it was important for him to be made aware of. And you supposed this was probably one of those times, as you’d rather bring it up with him first before Eri had a chance to corner him with the same question.
“Oh?” He asked a bit breathlessly and chuckled awkwardly. “Please don’t tell me it’s time to give her ‘the talk’, because I’m not so sure I’m ready for that conversation either.” His attempt at humor to help ease you into the conversation was not lost on you and you couldn’t stop the small grateful smile that tugged at your lips as a result.
But you very quickly wiped the smile off of your face and squared your shoulders in preparation for the inevitable. There was no going back now, and this time, you didn’t let the pacing or tone of what you said next belie any of what you were truly feeling.
“She asked me if she was ever going to get another little sister?”
The entire world seemed to pause at that, waiting in stilled silence as the words you just spoke hung in the air between the two of you, and for the life of you, you couldn’t tell what his reaction was going to be. He was as tense and as rigid as a bowstring, but with his back turned towards you, you couldn’t see his facial expression to gauge how he might be feeling. So, you held your breath in anticipation and prayed with all your heart that telling him this wouldn’t prove itself to be a colossal mistake on your part.
When Kai did eventually speak, his voice sounded hoarse and breathless, the sound barely above a whisper. “What-” He cleared his throat as the words caught. “What did you tell her?”
You breathed a sigh of relief when he asked that and it was like a weight lifted off your shoulders. 
“I told her the truth.” You said softly, fiddling with the buttons on the shirt in your hands. “I told her that it was something for me and you to discuss privately with each other.”
Kai also seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at this and finally turned to face you. His expression was one of the softest you’d ever seen on him and his golden eyes were filled with such hope and stark longing that, had you been standing, it may very well have brought you to your knees. His own legs seemed to be shaking enough for the both of you anyway, and you briefly worried that he might just collapse then and there.
But he quickly pressed for you to go on, urging you to rip the bandaid off and cease the torment.
“And are we… discussing it?”
Before responding, you wondered how it had come to this. How in the span of a single day, you could go from loathing him, yourself, and all the things he made you feel for him, to smiling and wanting to talk about the absurdity of having another child with him, only for those feelings of contempt to circle back around and confuse you all the more. You shouldn’t want this, not with him at least, but you did. You never would have chosen to have your children with him, but now that he was their father, you would never leave or go back and change it, even if you were given the opportunity. Eri and Kazue loved and adored him, and if anything were to happen to him or take him away, it would break their hearts and you would never be able to endure that.
A therapist or even a more rational person might tell you that you had likely developed some form of Stockholm syndrome, and they would probably be right, but you were simply past the point of caring about that anymore. You would never be able to forgive him and forget about all he had done to you, and you were willing to acknowledge that you may come to regret this decision by the time morning came, but for now, this was what you wanted.
Taking a deep breath, you let the words go free and prepared yourself for what was to come, be it either good or bad.
“I want to have another baby, Kai.”
The look of absolute wonder and happiness that overtook his face was enough to make your heart flutter and you wholeheartedly expected him to rush for you, to grab up into his arms in a fit of joy and overzealous passion before dragging you to the bed to keep you there for the rest of the night.
But that’s not at all what happened…
Instead, an almost sad smile replaced the previous exuberance of his expression and he turned his back on you to continue putting away the laundry of all things, while you were left reeling from the confusion of it.
But Kai didn’t leave you in the dark regarding his unexpected behavior for very long at least as his next words answered the unspoken question.
“We’ll go and talk to Dr.Takani tomorrow and see what can be done.” He said, his tone far too even and nonchalant for it to be anything other than forced. “Our options might be limited since we can’t go to a hospital, but I promise we’ll figure out a way to make this happen.”
Your mouth was hanging open by this point and you didn’t even try to hold back the note of alarm that made your voice sound shrill and choked.
“What options? What are you talking about, Kai?”
Kai’s chuckle wasn’t one of amusement as he responded very bitterly. “Well, how else are we going to get you pregnant without IVF or artificial insemination?”
Your answer was immediate and without any hint of hesitation as you quietly whispered. “I just assumed we’d go about it the natural way… by having sex.”
You heard him let out a soft sound that was somewhere between a moan of pleasure fueled frustration, and a groan of pain as his hands went white knuckled gripping the top of the dresser.
“I-I’m sorry (Y/N), I just… I just can’t.”
The rejection, no matter how confusing and unexpected it was, shouldn’t have bothered you in the slightest, but it did, it really did. It tore something open in your chest that you weren’t sure could ever be repaired as tears, hot and shameful, burned your vision.
“You don’t want me…”
You didn’t intend to say it out loud, but you did, and you honestly weren’t sure if you meant for it to be taken as a question or as an accusation, but either way, it most certainly got a reaction out of him as Kai whirled around to face you, his face a mask of utter shock and confusion.
“What?!” He frantically replied. “Of course I still want you, how could you ever assume anything else after you’ve laid in bed with me and watched me stroke my cock I don’t even know how many times over the years?”
Now you were the one that was confused, even as a sense of uncomfortable relief settled over you at the knowledge that he still found you desirable.
“I don’t understand.” You whispered softly.
He looked as if he didn’t want to continue having this conversation at all, but he must have known that you wouldn’t drop it so easily, because he sighed in that particular way that told you he was about to tell you something that he thought you likely wouldn’t approve of.
“I want you, sweetheart, I want you so fucking bad it hurts, but I can’t have sex with you because I don’t trust myself to have the willpower to stop once you do get pregnant.” Was his quiet confession. “I told you before that if you ever came back to me for sex that things would go right back to the way they were, but over time, I’ve found I don’t want things to go back to that.” It was like the floodgates had opened and now that he had started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I swear, I will do whatever it takes to give us another child if that is what you really want, but not at the expense of sacrificing all the progress we have made together these last few years.”
Your jaw was practically touching the floor, because that wasn’t at all what you had been expecting him to say, not that you had any idea what you were expecting in the first place, but it certainly wasn’t this level of selflessness. 
Over time, you had come to accept and even appreciate that Kai did truly love you in his own way, and that he felt a great deal of genuine remorse for much of what he had put you through. Not all of it of course, there was only so much a person could do to grow and overcome the faults so deeply ingrained in them, but considering how things had started, this was a massive improvement. The old Kai would have taken full advantage of this situation and forced you to continue to have sex with him regardless of whether or not you only wanted it to go on just long enough for you to get pregnant. For him to turn down the opportunity to sleep with you after five years of celibacy, all because he didn’t want to risk turning back into that monster he had been, the monster you had hated so vehemently,  it somehow made you all the more confident in your decision to end this standoff between the two of you.
Sex with Kai, as well as the prospect of having another child with him had both been subjects that were on your mind for far longer than you cared to admit, and in truth, you had settled on your decision a while ago, you just hadn’t been able to find the right time or way to broach the topic with him before now. But when Eri had so casually asked you her question today as you came into the kitchen to make some tea, you had known right away that now was as good a time as any. And your sweet, perfect daughter, who always knew how to help others, even when she wasn’t aware of it, had given you, not just a reason to bring it up, but the courage to do it as well.
Now you only needed to convince Kai that you wanted this just as badly as he no doubt did.
“And if I told you that I wouldn’t want it to stop even after I got pregnant?”
Kai shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed as he leaned back against the dresser for support. “Please don’t do this, (Y/N).” He quietly begged you, his voice straining as if he were in pain. “Not unless you are absolutely certain that this is what you want.”
You watched him for a long while, taking in the way he held himself back, all because he was scared that he might ruin the progress you and he had made together, and you suddenly knew what you needed to do.
By now, you knew that words alone weren’t going to be enough to convince him that you were confident in your decision on this matter, you were going to need to show him that you wanted him. So you didn’t give yourself the opportunity to second guess your choice in action as you stood up from the loveseat and slowly began stripping away articles of your clothing, piece by piece, never once breaking eye contact with him.
You had long since stopped being nervous or ashamed of your body and the way Kai would ogle it at every opportunity he was given, so even after five years, getting naked for him was an easy task, even if it should have made your skin crawl. You had once been indifferent to it, but not anymore, now you wanted his eyes on you, and wanted his hands and mouth and cock on and inside you even more.
He watched you now, every movement you made, with an all consuming intensity that had never been stronger, not even at the very beginning of all this madness. You once felt like he looked at you as nothing more than an object, like a doll or a piece of art, but not this time, now he looked at you dumbstruck, as if he was seeing you for the very first time. And you found you rather appreciated it now.
Once you were fully naked, it only took a handful of strides to reach him and you had to bite back a small smile at the way he gripped the top of the dresser even harder, like he was needing to fight for control of his own body, or else he’d lunge at you. You really wished he would, because you wanted him just as needy and desperate as you felt. You were so wet at this point, the moisture slicking up your thighs enough that Kai could likely already see the evidence of it himself. He wouldn’t even need to bother with the foreplay, though you wouldn’t object if he ended up needing to have a taste of you beforehand, you certainly wanted to taste him just as badly. You were surprised to realize that he had never insisted on the two of you trying out a sixty-nine position, so perhaps that’s something you could convince him to try with you later, once you’d taken him inside of you a few times.
Standing less than a foot away from him now, you had to tilt your head up to look at him, but not before taking a long and obvious look at the already hard and straining bulge in his pants before dragging your eyes up to meet the molten gold of his own.
“Can you honestly tell me that you don’t believe I know what I’m saying, Kai?” You quietly asked, your voice steady and strong, though breathy and full of want.
He swallowed thickly, the sound so audible that it may as well have been a curse word for all it gave away about what his decision would ultimately be.
“(Y/N)… I-” He dragged his gaze over every bare inch of your exposed body and you felt it like a caress on your skin. “Fuck…”
“I know who it is that I want.” Reaching out, you boldly placed your hand on his chest, just over his heart and rubbed your thumb back and forth against the spot as you took that final step forward and pressed yourself flush against him, your aching breasts and tender nipples pressing into his beautifully chiseled abdomen.
“And who I want, is you, Kai.” 
—————
Kai was going to combust into flames, he was absolutely convinced that this conversation was going to be the final death of him and very soon his soul was going to be thrown down into some burning cell deep in the blackest pits of Hell. 
He had never seen a more beautiful or seductive sight in all his life, and were it not for the way his cock positively throbbed in the confines of his pants, he might very well have thought he was dreaming this up right now. But none of his prior dreams about you, and there had been a lot of them over the years, none of them had ever been quite so vivid and true to life as this moment right here.
He had imagined this so many times before, each fantasy more beautiful and too painful to hope for than the last, and yet none of them could compare to the real thing.
The instant you’d mentioned having another baby, he’d felt his heart soar with unbridled happiness for one blinding moment, and then the fear had taken hold of him. The same fear that had plagued him every night since the first time you had been brave enough let him watch while you pleasured yourself beside him in bed, the fear that he would very soon lose control of himself and once again begin taking what he wanted from you by force. His decision to cut out all forms of intimacy with you for the last five years had been one of the hardest endeavors of his young life, but it had also been the most fulfilling. He’d never realized just how little he knew about you until he no longer had the haze of sex and carnal pleasure clouding his mind, and what he’d learned and witnessed had made him love you all the more. He still viewed you as his, he didn’t think he was capable of not feeling entitled to you, but the overwhelming sense of  territorial possessiveness had lessened considerably over time. 
He so desperately wanted to believe that he was capable of showing you the restraint and patience that you deserved, but he was truly terrified that one taste of you would be all it would take to undo the years of progress he’d made. Because if he took this step with you, and in the morning you said it was a mistake, he didn’t know what he’d do. The last time you willingly sought him out for sex had ended disastrously, not that you had any memory of what truly happened that day, but he did, and the thought that it could potentially happen again was terrifying to him.
However, he also knew you well enough to know just how stubborn you could be, and that you were always the type of person who would never willingly do or say things you didn’t mean. And the way you were looking at him right now, combined with the confidence in your tone and posture, it was cracking his already weak resolve.
So maybe, just maybe, if you, the one most harmed by all of this, were willing to set aside the past and try to move forward, perhaps he finally could as well.
“(Y/N)…” His breath hitched when your smile turned a little devious and you pressed your bare chest more firmly against him.
“Yes, Kai?” You asked sweetly.
Kai didn’t know where this teasing sensuality you were displaying had come from, but it was driving him mad. He wanted to touch you so badly, to drag his lips and hands over every single part of you and listen to you moan for him, to reacquaint himself with the familiarity of your beautiful body, and to see up close all the ways it had changed since you had first given birth. He was especially fascinated by the handful of stretch marks you had gained during and after your pregnancy. He knew you bore them on your breasts and stomach, but the ones he really wanted to see were the ones on your inner thighs. Those ones he had only ever caught brief glimpses of and he always fantasized about tracing them with his lips and tongue while he slowly made his way up to feast on your sweet and needy little cunt.
But, before he could even consider getting to any of that, he needed to make sure that this is what you truly wanted, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“You’re sure this is what you really want?” He whispered. “I swear to you, sweetheart, I won’t hold it against you if you say ‘no’. We can find another way for you to get pregnant that doesn’t involve crossing this line, but if we do this, you need to know that I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to show this same kind of restraint again if you change your mind in the morning or even later on down the road.” He paused and took a deep steadying breath before continuing. “I don’t want to be that monster you knew me as ever again, (Y/N). So if you have any doubts about this decision, then I beg of you, please, back out now, before this situation has the chance to escalate past the point of no return.”
There, he’d said what he needed to say, and now the ball was in your court, the decision was now yours to make, the way it always should have been, and he quietly waited with baited breath, both eager and hesitant at the same time to learn what your final response was going to be, and thankfully, you weren’t cruel enough to make him wait for too long to hear what that response was.
—————
You slid your hands up his body until one cupped his cheek and the other rested at the back of his neck, then you flashed him another soft smile as your eyes darkened with raw want and desire, desire for him. 
“Kai, my answer is still the same; I want you.” Your thumb traced lazy circles on the back of his neck while you continued to speak, and the way he practically melted into your touch sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “The fact that you are so concerned about potentially hurting me and regressing back into your old habits is enough to give me confidence that you won’t. I trust you to take care of me and to respect my limits in a way you never did before, and if I ever feel like it’s too much or that I can’t take it, I promise I’ll let you know and we’ll figure it out together.”
You watched him close his eyes and slowly exhale a few seconds later, all the tension leaving his body at once as one of his hands reached up to rest over top of your own. He gently squeezed your fingers and turned his face into your still open palm to lay a kiss there, and you could have sworn he was breathing you in while he did it. The you from five years ago would have found the display annoying and disgusting, but the you of the present couldn’t seem to adequately focus on anything past the pounding of your own heartbeat sounding in your ears and the unbearable ache pulsating between your legs as Kai turned his ravenous gaze back to yours.
Once again you were expecting him to leap upon you with five years worth of pent up passion and need, and once again he thoroughly surprised you by finding yet another way to stall what you now knew was an undeniable inevitability as he shifted to pull out his phone and scroll for a number before bring it up to his ear.
The whole while, his eyes never left yours and they all but screamed the one single word that you knew your own were echoing back…
Finally.
—————
Kai’s hyper focused attention never once left your face as he pulled out his phone and selected the first number on his speed-dial list.
It rang three times before the recipient answered, and Kai was far too preoccupied to even care as he watched the tip of your pretty little tongue slip out to wet your lips, lips he soon planned to have his own against, and possibly wrapped around his cock later, if you were willing.
“Hello?” 
Hari’s voice sounded raspy and breathless as he answered and Kai didn’t need more than one guess to know what must be causing it so late into the evening, especially with Rappa out of town at the moment.
Under normal circumstances, he might have been jealous or even envious over such a fact, but considering why he was making this call to his second in the first place, he couldn’t bring himself to give two flying shits this time. As long as his order was fallowed to the letter, Hari could still be sliding his cock between your sisters legs for all the fucks he had to give, all he cared about at the moment was passing along his message and turning his full attention back onto you.
“I need you to personally handle everything we have going on for the next week.” He quietly ordered, smirking down at you when your eyes widened and you mouthed back the words, ‘a week’. “Reschedule, shuffle things around, go to the meetings and distributions in my place; I don’t care what you have to do to make it happen, but I don’t want to hear one word about our business or dealings for the next seven days, not unless the issue is of apocalyptic proportions. Have I made myself clear, Chrono?”
Kai knew that Hari likely wanted to ask a series of questions, and he no doubt would the next time they saw each other, but for now, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and simply do as he was told.
“Yes, I understand.” His second in command responded obediently, but with obvious confusion. “I’ll see to it that you are left completely undisturbed for as long as you wish, and I’ll make sure everyone else is aware of it as well and the consequences that will come if they disregard the order.”
“Good.” Was all Kai said before he ended the call and tossed his phone aside with a careless flick of the wrist, and all the while his attention never strayed away from you. In fact, it only seemed to grow more intense with every passing second as he debated on whether or not he should be the one to make the first move and end this rather enticing stare down the two of you were having.
Thankfully though, and much like all of this evening so far, you took the decision right out of his hands as you smiled up at him and said the words that ripped open the floodgates.
“Well then, Kai, you have an entire week away from work to spend with me.” You said, your voice light and teasing as you pressed ever closer to him, stretching up on the tips of your toes to brush your lips against his own trembling mouth. “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?���
—————
Hari’s confusion was near palpable as he stared down at the dark screen of his phone wondering what in the hell that was all about. It wasn’t like Kai to take that much time away from work and the organization, and if there was some kind of emergency in the compound or with you or the children, his phone would have already been blowing up about it.
So what then could it be?
“Are you so obtuse that you can’t see what this is?”
Hari looked over to the other side of the bed and frowned to see that (Name) was already in the process of getting dressed to leave and the now familiar disappointment that followed that realization was more than enough to make him temporarily forget about Kai’s mysterious order.
“You’re leaving already?” He asked, not caring if he sounded like a petulant child. 
“Yes.” Your sister responded, rolling her eyes as she wiggled herself back into her pants and proceeded to put on her bra. “I’m likely going to be responsible for the kids for the majority of the week, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”
Hari cocked his head, still confused. “Why do you think that?”
She raised one eyebrow and gave him an expression that just screamed, ‘Are you fucking serious right now?’. It was a look he’d grown accustomed to receiving from her over the years and somehow, it always sent a spike of pleasure zinging through him. He’d never admit it aloud, but he rather enjoyed letting her dominate him in bed and take the lead on occasion. Unlike Kai, he didn’t always feel an overwhelming urge to be in control of all things at every moment of the day, and he’d never been shy about being upfront with his bedroom partners in that regard. It just so happened that the woman standing before him now was perfectly comfortable with such things. Of course, he wasn’t at all opposed to being the one in charge either, but when he spent everyday ordering others around, it was something of a relief to not have to worry about it once in a while and be the one getting pampered.
“Because him and my sister are, in all likelihood, currently in the process of fucking each other’s brains out as we speak.” She replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, you must have picked up on the way they’ve been eye-fucking one another at every opportunity they get lately, they haven’t exactly been subtle about it.”
Hari’s facial expression didn’t give it away, but as the words settled over him, he had to admit that he felt rather inept for not having thought of it himself. There were only so many things that could pull Kai away from his duties for such a long period of time, and if all was well with Eri and Kazue, then your sister was right, the only other option was you. 
“What do you think brought this on?” He asked casually, hoping that if he kept her talking long enough, he might just be able to convince her to stay for another round, or even the whole night.
“Hard to say.” She was currently in the process of looking for her socks and shoes as she went on. “But I’m betting it probably has something to do with Eri asking for a little sister and (Y/N) having baby fever.”
At the mention of pregnancy, Hari couldn’t help but imagine what (Name) would look like all round and full with his own child and he silently wondered if she herself ever had thoughts of being a mother. But he shook those thoughts away, there was no point in dwelling on them at the moment, especially since she’d gotten an IUD a few years ago and was still more than regularly sharing herself with Rappa. 
The thought of the lumbering buffoon and the following wave of jealousy was enough to soften his cock when he remembered that she never had any qualms about sharing a bed with Rappa afterwards, but never did so with him.
“Why don’t you stay here tonight instead of going back downstairs?” He quickly suggested it before he could rethink the offer. He could already see that she was opening her mouth to object, but he interjected before she could even get the words out. “Just to sleep.” He clarified, raising his hand in a peaceful gesture. “I know you prefer your room downstairs, but if you have to spend the week up here in the house anyway, why not stay here with me tonight and we can get you a room set up near the children tomorrow .”
(Name) didn’t say a word to him for a few long moments and just as he was about to rescind the offer, she finally spoke.
“I suppose that could work.” She said, eyeing him wearily.
Hari felt his face beginning to light up, only to have that joy dim just the slightest bit when she continued on.
“But I’m sleeping with my shirt and underwear on, and I am sure as fuck not going to cuddle with you. You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine, got it?” She spat, her tone leaving no room for arguments or anything else as she stiffly began taking her clothes off again.
Despite his disappointment that he wouldn’t get to feel her in his arms tonight, Hari still couldn’t keep the small smile off his face as he watched her strip and stiffly climb back into the bed and wiggle under the covers.
Perhaps there was some hope for him after all, and he’d just need to take some baby steps to get there.
—————
Buttery soft sunshine was what you awoke to, but it was the soft kisses being left all along your shoulders and the back of your neck that kept you from dozing back off into peaceful slumber.
You smiled in contentment and lifted your arm, reaching it behind you to tangle your fingers in the soft chestnut strands of Kai’s hair while you arched your back in a small stretch, making extra certain that your bare ass rubbed against his already straining cock in the process.
“Good morning.” You whispered, your voice still thick with sleep and a tad bit hoarse from all the moaning and screaming you’d done the night before, even as your body fully responded to his gentle ministrations.
You felt him smile in response and his grip on your hip tightened as he groaned, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and grinding his pelvis against the plump cheeks of your ass.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” He moaned, and opened his mouth to suck on the soft skin just below your ear. His hips were already picking up a steady rhythm as he slid his cock up and down between your ass cheeks and you pushed back with equal fervor. “I’ll never be able to get enough of you, my love, never.”
You shifted to roll over onto your back and look up at him, smiling as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. The sunlight streaming in through the windows highlighted him like a halo and made it seem as though his golden eyes were sparkling, although, from the blissfully happy smile on his face, that sparkle may not have been entirely a trick of the light.
The previous night had been wonderful and amazing, it had been everything you wanted and yet nothing like what you had expected. You had anticipated being tossed down on the bed and fucked hard and fast like a bitch in heat for the first few times, because there were definitely multiple rounds, but instead, Kai had been insistent on treating you with such tender love and care. He asked you at every opportunity throughout the night if what he was doing was to your liking, not because he wanted your enthusiasm to help inflate his ego, but because he just genuinely wanted to make sure you were comfortable with everything he did. From the way he kissed you, to every position he put you in, every new-not-new action was followed through only after he had received your verbal consent. It was very much appreciated, but after a while, you had gotten so amusingly annoyed by it that you had at point told him that if he did so one more time, you’d gag him with your underwear.
The look of shock that had overtaken his face had been purely priceless, as had been the uproarious laughter that had erupted from him a few moments afterwards.
“How are you feeling this morning?” He asked cautiously, no doubt worried you might have come to regret your decision while in the cold light of the day.
You grinned up at him fiendishly. “A little sore and stiff, but it’s in all the best ways possible, so I don’t mind.”
Kai frowned a bit, pulling back the blanket to scan your body from head to toe, as if he expected to find your body littered with bruises and other injuries. Then he turned his eyes back towards your own and you could easily see the lingering guilt that shined there. It would be some time yet before he felt relieved enough to let go of it, if ever let go of it at all.
“You’re sure you’re alright?” He repeated. “You can tell me, I promise I won’t be angry.”
“I’m sure.” Then you lifted your arms, opening them up and motioning for him to return to them. “Now would you please come back over here, I was enjoying those cuddles.”
Kai, for his part, was convinced that this all must be a dream, a very wonderful one to be sure, but still a dream. But as he slipped back into the warm cradle of your arms and felt you begin your usual habit of tracing teasing lines and patterns across his back with the tips of your fingers, he knew this was real. Somehow, you had found it in your heart to try and move past the horrible things he’d done in order to have a fresh start with him. He knew you hadn’t necessarily forgiven him, he wasn’t even sure he deserved this second chance, let alone forgiveness, not when he couldn’t entirely forgive himself, but if this is what you wanted, then he would happily accept whatever bits of yourself you wanted to bestow upon him.
The two of you laid there in peaceful silence for quite some time, occasionally running a hand over one another or laying kisses wherever your lips could reach, just to remind one another that this was indeed real and not some fantasy.
“What are you thinking about?” Kai asked softly when you had been silent for longer than usual.
The two of you had switched positions at one point and now you were the one resting your head on Kai’s broad pectoral, still idly tracing patterns on the skin of his stomach and smiling devilishly whenever his hips would jerk and his cock gave a noticeable twitch. It wouldn’t take too much effort to slip a little further down and wrap your lips around him, and had he not just asked you a question, you would have done just that without a moment's hesitation.
“Nothing really, just thinking about how much I lo-”
The words slipped out so naturally that you almost didn’t catch yourself in time.
Both of you stiffened and the room went deathly quiet as the gravity of what you almost finished saying hit you both like a freight train. Your mind was in a tizzy, trying to come up with every line in existence to excuse what it was you almost just said. You don’t even know where the words came from, they just slipped out so smoothly, like saying it was the easiest thing you’d ever done. 
As if they were true!
But they weren’t true, they couldn’t be true…
Could they?
Yes, you had grown to care for and appreciate Kai as the father of your children and even as a companion, enough so that you wanted to have more children with him, but that didn’t mean you… felt that way about him… did it?
“(Y/N)?” Kai called out your name softly, pulling you from your wild and chaotic thoughts.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I couldn’t quite make out what you were saying. Can you repeat that for me?” He asked with forced casualness.
You were so blindsided and confused that it took a moment for you to recognize what was happening, but when you did, the painful tension drained away in an instant as you realized what he was doing.
Kai was offering you an out, to chance to back away from this topic for the time being, until you were ready to face it, IF you were ever ready to face it.
You wished wholeheartedly that you weren’t such a fucking coward, but so much had happened in so short a time between the two of you, and dealing with this, on top of everything else, was just asking for too much.
So you took that out, shelving the topic to be addressed at another time… or possibly never.
You cleared your throat. “I… I was only saying that I love… love what a wonderful father you are.” You said quietly, and patted yourself on the back that at least you were able to admit this truth. “Mistakes of the past or not, you always take such good care of them, of us, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”
Kai’s arms tightened around you instantly as he laid a gentle kiss to the top of your head, breathing in your delectable scent, now mingled with his own. “I will always take care of you. The three of you, hopefully soon-to-be four, are my whole world. I love you all from the bottom of my heart, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, even if it kills me in the process. I swear it, my love.”
Your answering nod was all he needed to know you understood and believed him, and soon, the two of you once again lapsed back into that easy and comfortable silence, basking in the morning sun and perfectly content to let the future play out however it saw fit to do so.
And while you might not ever be able to say those three little words back to him, that was fine, because for now, this was all either of you needed.
                                     The End
That is a wrap folks! Purity is officially completed!
3 years, 30 chapters, and nearly 200k words later and I honestly can’t believe I managed to finally finish it! It has been one hell of a ride from start to finish, and I just want to thank all of you for the absolutely amazing support you all have shown throughout the entire process. Whether you’ve been here from the very beginning or if you came in halfway through, or even if you’ve only just now found this, thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
But the one I want to thank the most is one of my best and dearest friends, @talpup​, who has been with me from the very beginning, before I even started posting. Brainstorming ideas with me and allowing me to subject them to my never-ending slew of scene and detail changes, they have been my biggest supporter by far and I can quite honestly say this blog would not be active anymore were it not for them. I probably would have given up on this story and writing post worthy content a long time ago had I not met you my friend, this story is as much yours as it is mine and I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you! ❤️
So, to conclude, if ever there was a time to let me know your thoughts on the story as a whole, now is that time. I know this kinda happy/bittersweet ending might seem very lackluster and an ill-fit for what this fic started out as, but I hope that everyone who reads it can find at least a few satisfying conclusions throughout it. But this is how I always intended for the story to end and I, as the writer, am very pleased with it, and to me, that’s really all that matters. 😊
Thank you all, enjoy!
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diddle-riddle · 1 year
Text
New Year’s Resolutions from the Rogues Gallery - 2
II / Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow
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1 - Get Edward back. He is lying to himself by trying to be a detective who works with Batman and the police. 2 - Catch up with Harley, it’s been a while. 3 - Get Edward back. I heard he teams-up with Batgirl and Red Hood very often, but I can say it’s nothing compared to the bright duo we used to be. 4 - Fill my daughter’s bank account, I’m sure I can afford it this year. 5 - Get Edward back. Eventually apologize to him if necessary, that should be enough to convince him to return by my side. Where he belongs. 6 - Lurk less often by Becky’s house, or she might spot me. 7 - Get Edward back. I cannot tolerate the idea of Bruce Wayne touching, kissing and holding him. Eddie is mine, no one else is allowed to get to him. 8 - Find a companion for my pet crow Nightmare. 9 - Get Edward BACK!
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process-pending · 1 year
Quote
Bowed over, hand curled around the safety bar the only thing keeping Jaskier standing as he sent up silent plea after plea to wake from this nightmare. No answer came, not because he didn't think Destiny was listening but it wasn't within even her power to rewrite reality.
To the Night We Met (Chapter 3)
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punkshort · 5 months
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somewhere to run | 6. the confession
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel finds out the truth and convinces you to press charges.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, domestic violence and SA (discussed after the fact), mental and physical abuse, detailed conversations about DV and SA (I didn't get too descriptive about the SA but I do use the R word a couple times) please let me know if I missed anything because there is a lot going on here
WC: 9K
A/N: as the title implies, we are going to get more details about what happened to reader in this one so once again, please heed the warnings and don't read if you think it will be triggering for you. I tried not to be too graphic.
Series Masterlist
Joel could hardly sleep that night. Instead of going to the station, he headed home so he could be with Sarah. She wondered why he got home so early from his date, but he dodged the question and the two of them worked together in silence - Sarah on her homework, Joel on his incident report. When she asked him why he was working from home, he just shook his head and said something came up. She was a smart girl. She knew something was bothering him, but she didn't push it and he was grateful.
He tossed and turned all night, his mind reeling while he looked at his phone every few minutes. He checked the volume, he made sure do not disturb was off, wondering if you would reach out, but you never did. Maybe it wasn't unusual for Patrick to not come home. Or maybe you heard what happened and you were mad at Joel. That worried him the most. The fear that his actions might have destroyed what fragile relationship he had left with you ate him up as he stared blankly at his ceiling.
Morning came too quickly and too slowly all at once. He rubbed his tired eyes as he dragged himself into the bathroom. When he leaned forward to turn the water on, he was met with a sharp pain in his chest. He glanced down, rubbing the area tenderly and realized a large bruise was forming from his fight the night before. He winced when he pressed on a particularly sensitive spot and tried his best to avoid the area during his shower.
After he dropped Sarah off at school, he headed into work, his heart beginning to beat faster the closer he got to the station. He had no doubt in his mind the whole town knew what happened last night, but he was too tired and too overwhelmed to care about their curious questions and senseless gossip.
When he walked in, he breezed right past Helen's desk with a curt nod, doing his best to avoid all eye contact until he was within the safety of his office. He booted up his ancient computer and waited, his thumb rubbing mindlessly against his lower lip as he stared out his window.
He would go to the diner today. He already decided he had to see you. The radio silence was killing him and he needed to make sure you were okay. He was embarrassed about the Facebook messages, even more so that you weren't the one to read them, but Patrick was right. They were not innocent. The words held more weight than they appeared, but he had to come to terms with the fact that you were not his, and then maybe with some closure, he would be able to move on.
The morning dragged on slowly. Bobby caught him at the coffee maker, already working on his third cup, depending solely on the caffeine to help keep him going.
"Hey, boss. You look like shit, but not as bad as him," Bobby said, pouring himself more coffee and jutting his chin to the back of the building where the holding cells were located.
"Feel like shit," Joel mumbled, leaning against the counter and taking a sip from his mug.
"Think you broke his nose," Bobby added, finally looking up at him. "Called the doc but turns out he's real busy this mornin', won't be able to come by til after hours. Such a damn shame," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Joel understood what he was saying without him having to say it. The people in this town looked out for one another and didn't take kindly to a stranger hurting one of their own. They were leaving Patrick to deal with his injuries longer than necessary.
"I don't think I broke anythin', he did that all on his own chargin' into that table," Joel said, but Bobby shook his head.
"Not the way he tells it," he replied with a chuckle. "You'd think you nearly killed him, the way he's been whinin' back there."
"No doubt lookin' for a lawsuit," Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Don't worry, boss. You got a bar full'a witnesses. Hank already offered to give a statement and he was probably the only sober one there."
"Yeah, good. Thanks," Joel replied, pushing off the counter to head back to his office, trying to ignore the sideways glances of the men watching him from the bullpen. He shook his mouse and grimaced when he saw an email from the mayor looking to set up a meeting with him that week to discuss the incident. He knew he did nothing wrong, but the more attention this brought him, the worse he felt. Eventually, all of that talk would make its way back to you and Sarah, the truth most likely getting distorted along the way. He made a mental note to have a talk with his daughter that night as he slowly typed out a response to the mayor.
He swore he would try to get some actual work done, but he ended up spending more time staring out the window or at his phone, watching the minutes tick by til it was lunchtime and he could see you. Maybe he could pull you aside and talk to you in private. Maybe he could fix this.
The moment the clock read a reasonable hour, he jumped up from his seat and snatched his blazer from the coat hook, rolling his shoulders as he walked and put it on, then stifling a grunt when he felt a muscle in his chest pull from the effort.
He kept his head down as he walked down the street towards the diner, only glancing up once when he passed the pizza place. Your curtains were still drawn, no lights on that he could see, no sign of life.
A few people called out to him as he passed, but all he could muster was a tight smile and quick wave, not in the mood to get wrapped up into any conversations.
When he swung the door open, his eyes immediately went to the counter, searching you out but only finding Betty. Before he had a chance to look around the dining room, he heard María greet him.
"Where the hell were you last week?"
"I was here Friday," he muttered, looking around and avoiding her eyes.
"Yeah, with Nikki. Heard some stuff about that-"
"Is she here?" Joel asked, finally dragging his gaze to meet Maria's. She frowned and shook her head.
"No, she called in sick," Maria said, watching him carefully. "Joel, what's going on with you two? People are saying stuff about you and her husband, and-"
"She's sick?" Joel repeated, panic beginning to bubble to the surface. Maria nodded and shrugged.
"Yeah, people get sick, Joel. Hey! Where are you going?"
Joel didn't reply, he just hurried out the doors, nearly knocking down a middle aged couple as they were about to walk inside. He mumbled an apology as he jogged down the street towards your place.
Something was wrong.
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Your eye cracked open when you heard the doorbell, the heavy thudding in your head making you immediately nauseous. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, rolling back under the covers. Maybe if you were quiet, Patrick would think you were at work and he would leave. But the bell kept ringing, the sound pinging around in your brain making the headache you already had so much worse.
When he began pounding on the door and shouting from the street, you dragged yourself out of bed and wrapped yourself in a thin robe. You knew your body couldn't take much more, but letting him in would be better than allowing him to make a scene in front of the whole town, so you forced your feet forward, still limping from the day before.
You had to pause in the doorway to catch your breath as you clutched your side, wincing in pain as you tried to gingerly walk down the steps, but you were taking too long and he just kept pounding and shouting and the all noise was making you sick.
"Stop," you called out weakly, not convinced he would even hear you, but miraculously he did because the noise finally ceased, and you sighed a small breath of relief.
Shakily, you reached out to grip the doorknob, your fingers fumbling with the locks until you finally managed to twist the brass handle, opening the door just a sliver, worried people walking by would see your face. Then, unexpectedly, you heard Joel's voice instead of Patrick's say your name softly and before you could peer around the door, you went to quickly shut it with no success. His hand gripped the door tightly, but you held firm, hiding behind the wood.
"You shouldn't be here," you told him, your voice weak and broken.
"I know you're mad at me but I gotta talk to you 'bout what happened," he said from the other side. "Please let me in."
Unbeknownst to you both, you were talking about two different things.
"If he finds you here... no, you have to leave," you said, pushing the door again, but he didn't budge.
"Patrick?" he questioned, sounding confused.
"Yes, Patrick," you rasped, getting dizzy from exerting so much energy in your weakened state. "Please just go."
"He's in jail, did - no one told you?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice down.
"Jail?" you repeated, and your grip on the door loosened in surprise. Joel felt it and took the opportunity to open it further. You stepped back quickly, wrapping the robe around you tighter and trying to fidget with your hair to hide the marks, but you knew it was pointless the moment you saw his face after closing the door behind him.
"What the fuck?" he whispered, his jaw dropping as his eyes slowly raked over your face, neck and arms. Your lip was swollen and cut, the scab breaking open and beginning to weep the more you spoke. Your cheekbone had a light purple bruise blooming under your skin, as did your jaw. There was a small gash near your hairline and what looked like scratch marks down your neck, leading past your collar bone and below your robe. When you shakily brought your hands up to cover your face in shame, he saw the dark bruises on your wrists.
"Oh my god," he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder. When he reached out, you flinched away and he felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.
"You should go," you said quietly, your eyes pinned to the ground.
"I can't," he said in utter disbelief. "I can't... why didn't you call me?"
You looked like you were about to reply but decided against it and instead still kept your gaze averted.
"C'mon, lemme take you upstairs and get a look at you," he said, reaching out again, but you stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the steps.
"Please don't touch me," you told him, holding up a hand, and he nodded.
"Okay, I won't touch you," he said, trying to remain calm while his heart was breaking. "Let's just go upstairs, alright?"
Reluctantly, you agreed and slowly ascended the steps, Joel following dutifully behind. He ushered you over to the couch, making sure you were seated before he went to your bathroom, rummaging around in your medicine cabinet while you sat there, your face buried in your palms and trying not to cry.
He came back into the living room, trying not to make you feel worse by hiding his reaction, but it was hard. He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the assortment of first aid items in his hands.
"Did you take anything for the pain?" he asked, his voice thick, his throat tight.
"Not today, no," you admitted softly. He nodded and shook out two white pills from a bottle and handed them to you before getting you some water. While safely in the kitchen where you couldn't see him, he let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. How could this happen? How didn't he see it? He should have checked on you earlier. He never should have fucking let you leave with Patrick yesterday. Guilt racked his brain as he exhaled slowly and went back to you in the living room.
"Here," he said, handing you the bottle of water. You took it and popped the pills in your mouth, wincing as you swallowed them down.
He sat down on the couch next to you but was sure to give you your space as he picked up the antiseptic and some gauze.
"Will you let me?" he asked, holding up the items in his hand. You paused and looked at them, then him. His eyes were wide and soft and shiny with unshed tears. Slowly, you nodded and watched as he twisted off the cap and put some of the antiseptic on the gauze, first pressing it gently against the gash on your forehead, then making a fresh one for your lip.
At first, he dabbed at the cut gently, ghosting over your skin as if he were afraid. But then he brought his other hand up to caress your chin, his fingers feather-like and so careful that it made your eyes flutter shut, his touch unlike anything you were used to. When you finally opened your eyes again, his hands were gone and he was staring at you, the look in his eyes morphing from sadness to one you were much more familiar with.
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him," he said menacingly, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Don't," you said, shaking your head, but his eyes darkened and his jaw was set.
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? I could've done somethin'. I could've-"
"What? What could you have done, Joel? I've heard it all before," you told him, your lip trembling. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. And it never works. Nothing ever changes and it just gets worse."
Joel shook his head, still not understanding.
"I'm a cop, I coulda protected you. There's laws in place for this kinda thing."
"I've gone to the cops, Joel! More than once! And they all told me the same shit!" you exclaimed, getting worked up now. "Then I go home, and magically my statement goes missing, or my medical exam report, and I'm in worse shape than before because guess what? It makes him really fucking mad when his buddies on the force find out what he does to his wife at home."
Joel's lips parted as he watched your chest heave for breath, the energy quickly draining from your frail body.
"I... I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He couldn't blame you for not trusting anyone, especially him, now that he finally knew the truth. Everything was starting to make sense. His guilt was pulling him down and he felt like he was drowning in it. So many things he should have done. Should have seen. He should have helped you but instead he trotted Nikki in front of you to make you feel even worse.
"I can really help you, though. I ain't like that," he said, scooting a little closer to you.
"I've heard that before, too," you said sadly, dropping your gaze to the ground. "There's no getting out of this. I thought by running I could try to start over, but it's clear now he will never let me go." You closed your eyes as two tears fell down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily, hating yourself for being so weak all the time.
Joel felt his chest squeeze, his heart breaking as he watched you fall apart. He needed to do something. He couldn't let you down. You needed to get out of this, or else it could cost you your life.
"Look at me," he said, waiting until your tears slowed and you forced your eyes open. "I promise I'll help you. I fuckin' promise you, alright? You ain't in Pennsylvania, I ain't his buddy, and I will do whatever I gotta do to keep you safe."
You searched his face, eyes all wide and your heart sliced open, lying on the table between you. You've been let down so many times, it was so hard to tell when anyone was being truthful anymore, but you couldn't deny what you felt for him. And what he felt for you. You knew something was there, something real and honest and pure. He wouldn't have any reason to lie to you at this point, so after a moment, you nodded.
"Okay," you whispered, and you could see the relief flood his face.
He sat back on the couch and rubbed his chin in thought, staring at the TV screen across from him that wasn't even on while the gears in his tired head worked overtime.
"Alright," he finally said, slapping his knees and standing up from the couch. "First things first: you gotta get to a doctor."
You immediately recoiled and shook your head.
"Absolutely not."
"I'm sorry, but you have to. I gotta..." he trailed off and chewed the inside of his cheek before pushing onward. "I gotta have a doctor take pictures."
Your face instantly crumpled and you buried your face in your hands once again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered for what felt like the hundredth time, getting down on one knee to be eye level with you. "But in order for this to work, they gotta record evidence, okay?"
"Joel, I can't," you whimpered, your face still covered, but he nodded and caressed the side of your head with his palm.
"Yes, you can. I'll be right there, okay? Unless you don't want me there, but I'll go with you if you want. Or I'll wait outside the door. Whatever you need, I'll do it. I'm gonna get you outta this."
You sniffled and finally dropped your hands to your lap, your gaze finding his.
"This is the last time, I promise you," he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I'll never let him near you again."
You thought his words over for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence, looking at the other. One trying to earn trust, the other trying to give it. Finally, you closed your eyes and nodded, giving your consent for what was to come.
"Okay," Joel said softly, dropping his hand from your face and standing up to pull out his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm lookin' up the number of a doctor I trust. She's a woman, too. She's real nice and sensitive. I've used her for a couple cases in the past," he said, finding the number and dialing it, bringing the phone up to his ear. Cases. You couldn't help but feel like just another victim the way he said it, even though he didn't mean it that way. You listened as he spoke to her over the phone in a hushed tone, not giving too much of your information away but insisting it was an urgent matter. When he hung up, he turned to you with a weak smile.
"She can see you this afternoon."
"Oh," you said, glancing down at your appearance. You weren't expecting to leave the house that day and you weren't sure what to do.
"It's okay," he said, sitting down next to you again and resting his hand on your knee. "I'll take you through the backdoor of her office, no one'll see you. She'll be fast."
You nodded and looked up at him.
"Maybe I should shower," you said. He paused and shifted his gaze away.
"You, uh," he cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers. He knew this would come up, one way or another. "I don't mean to get into too much detail, but if he..." Joel trailed off, finding it difficult to finish his sentence. "If he did more than hit you, you shouldn't shower," he finally choked out, unable to look you in the eye.
You froze, finally understanding what he meant. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall, his neck tensing, his nostrils flaring, as he waited for your response.
"I won't shower, then," you finally said, your voice strained.
His eyes slid shut and he dropped his chin to his chest. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to steady his breathing.
"I'll just go change," you mumbled, standing up while he nodded, still trying to breathe.
He did his best to collect himself while you were out of the room, but he could feel himself spiraling. What was he doing when it happened? Was he watching a movie with Sarah? Was he eating dinner? Was he getting ready for his fucking date with Nikki?
He could feel the tears welling up but he quickly wiped them away. You needed him to be strong. You needed someone to help you, to take care of you. He couldn't afford to be weak right now. He would let himself feel it later, when he was all alone at home and Sarah was asleep. When nobody needed him and he could just let the guilt and shame and sorrow wash over him.
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"Jesus, Joel," Carol muttered as she left the exam room. Joel jumped up from his seat, anxiously waiting for it to be over. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to wipe the sweat away. She sighed and looked up at him, taking off her glasses.
"So?"
"So?" she repeated, shaking her head. "So, I have your evidence."
Joel nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"She's been through a lot," Carol said softly, walking him down to her office for privacy. She closed the door but he didn't sit down.
"She's gonna be lookin' for me," he explained, jutting his thumb over his shoulder.
"I'll be quick," she said, sitting down at her desk with a sigh. "There was significant scarring and healed bones, detailing years of abuse, and definitely evidence of some most recently."
"Yeah, I imagine anyone can see that by just lookin' at her face," he replied, but she shook her head.
"I didn't mean her face."
Joel felt his breath get caught in his throat.
"Right," he finally said, his voice cracking.
"She said her husband is a cop?" Carol asked, flipping open a yellow file on her desk. Joel nodded.
"Got him in lockup right now for swingin' on me at Hank's," he explained.
Carol's eyes glanced up at his and she quirked an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I heard something about that," she said, lacing her fingers together and looking at him closely. "Can I give you some advice, Joel?"
He shifted his weight, not sure where she was going with it, but nodded anyway.
"Don't take her statement yourself. Have someone else do it, alright?"
"Why?" he asked quickly, and she gave him a knowing look.
"Because it'll be gruesome, and you're too involved."
Joel frowned.
"Too-"
"Don't care what you've got going on with her, I'm just giving you some friendly advice. Let someone else do it," she said, her eyes softening. "Besides, you got into it with her husband last night. You don't want some hot shot lawyer tossing out her testimony in court because he can link together some personal relationship between you two."
Joel considered her words for a moment and reluctantly nodded. She was right. He was having a hard time keeping things separate, and he appreciated the clarity. He couldn't fuck this up for you. Not now.
"Anythin' else?"
She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.
"You'll have my report in the morning," she said. He nodded, thanking her again for seeing you on such short notice before exiting the room. He turned the corner just as you were opening the exam room door clutching a worn hoodie around yourself and looking around frantically before your eyes fell on him and you visibly relaxed.
"Hey, sorry. You alright?" he asked, his hands gently coming up to your shoulders to guide you towards the back exit. You gulped and nodded.
"Wasn't so bad," you said.
"Good. You did the right thing," he said as he held open the door for you and led you back to his truck.
Once you were comfortably seated and Joel merged back into traffic, you shot him a sideways glance and asked him the question that had been weighing on your mind since he came over that morning.
"Joel?"
"Hm?" he said, twisting his head to the side to change lanes.
"Why is Patrick in jail?"
Joel's grip on the steering wheel tightened and there was an uncomfortable pause before he sighed.
"He came at me last night. We happened to both be at a bar at the same time, he was drunk and swung on me."
"What?!" you exclaimed, twisting around in your seat to look at him.
"I thought you knew since he didn't come home last night. Thought you were avoidin' me by callin' off work," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.
"No, I had no idea. He hasn't been staying at my apartment, he has a motel room somewhere," you said, peering at his face, then dropping your gaze to his hands where you could see now his knuckles were a little red.
"Are you okay?" you asked after a beat, and he scoffed.
"Am I okay?" he repeated with a shake of his head. He looked at you in shock, the corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk. "I'm fine. Can't believe you'd be worried 'bout me after what you went through."
"Of course I worry about you," you said softly, and he felt his heart melt. Why did you have to be so sweet? After everything you've been through, after everyone in your life has let you down, you were still so fucking sweet.
He wanted to say more. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't. He couldn't put that kind of stress on you. It would be selfish to tell you how much he thinks about you, how much he wished you were his, how he hasn't been able to get you out of his head since the moment he laid eyes on you. No, that would be wrong. It wasn't the right time, so he swallowed the words back from the tip of his tongue and focused on the road.
"What's next?" you asked him as he walked you up to your front door. Mercifully, the weather was threatening to downpour so the streets were quiet.
"Well, next you'll have to come down to the station and give your statement so we can formally press additional charges," he said, knowing you wouldn't want to hear it but he was surprised when you simply nodded your head.
"Okay. When?"
"Tomorrow?" he offered, and you nodded again as you unlocked your door.
"I'll have to call off work or come by after," you told him, stepping inside and turning to look at him.
"Listen, 'bout that," Joel began, and you frowned. "I gotta tell Tommy."
"No!" you cried, your eyes going wide with worry, but he shushed you and shook his head.
"I gotta tell him so he can keep an eye on things, alright? I won't be able to keep him in lockup for much longer and I can't be with you all the time to protect you, d'you understand?"
"Joel..." you whimpered, burying your face in your hands. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling you into his arms. He fucking hated seeing you like this.
"We can file a restraining order tomorrow but a piece of paper won't necessarily keep him away, and I can't risk it," Joel explained, his heart breaking for you.
"Okay," you sniffled, finally coming to terms with it. If you were going to do this, you had to trust him.
"Okay," Joel repeated. "Tommy served in the Army, he knows what he's doin', I promise. I'll tell him to keep it quiet, alright?"
"Yeah," you whispered, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.
"And no more walkin' back from work in the dark. Take your car or get a ride. If I can, I'll drive you - " Joel pulled out his phone to look at his calendar, but you stopped him.
"I can manage, but thank you."
You looked at one another for a moment, both of you unsure what else to say. You were thankful for what he was doing but you weren't sure you had the words to properly express your gratitude. Everything you wanted to say felt so small, so insignificant. So instead of attempting to cobble together some sentence that wouldn't do your feelings justice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face against his warm chest. He quickly brought his arms up around you in return, gently placing his hands on your head and back as he held you carefully against him, as if he was worried you would break. He was absolutely certain you could feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest, but he didn't care. He just wanted to feel you, to hold you, to keep you safe.
"It's gonna be okay," he told you, his voice heavy, and he felt you nod against him before pulling back, his chest suddenly feeling so empty.
"Thank you," you whispered, then spared him one more glance before heading inside, the door clicking shut softly behind you.
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Later that evening, after you had forced yourself to eat some soup and drink some water, you were settling in on your couch when you heard a soft knock at your door. You muted your TV and strained your ears to listen. It didn't sound like a familiar knock, not one filled with anger or urgency. You glanced down at your phone, wondering if Joel had sent you a text that you missed, but nothing was there.
Hesitantly, you made your way down the steps. Your fingers brushed the doorknob, but before you opened it, you spoke through the door.
"Who's there?"
"It's me," Maria's voice drifted through the wood, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You unlocked the door and met her eyes. She tried to hold back the wince upon seeing your face, but you still caught it.
"Heard you might need some help," she said, holding up a small plastic bag. You frowned, confused, until she tilted it open for you to look inside. There, you found a variety of makeup bottles and powders in shades that looked pretty close to your skin tone.
You opened the door and let her in. You could tell you were able to take the stairs a little quicker than the morning, and you hoped that meant you were healing because you really couldn't afford to miss more time at work.
"Cute place," she said, glancing around before following you into your living room.
"Thanks," you murmured, turning the volume back on the TV as she settled into the couch next to you.
"I hope you don't mind," she said, motioning towards the bag. "Joel called and told Tommy what happened... I'm so sorry, I wish you would've called us, we could've helped you."
"Thanks," you said with a shrug. "I guess I'm just used to dealing with it on my own."
"Well if you're ever scared of staying alone, we have a spare bedroom, so please don't hesitate to ask."
You gave her a small smile, hoping she could tell how grateful you were. With the exception of one cousin back home, nobody had tried to stand up for you before. Not even your own parents. The whole concept was so foreign to you, you weren't sure how to respond.
Maria seemed to sense this and she changed the subject, leaning forward to sift through the contents of the drugstore bag, pulling out item after item and holding it up against your arm to decide which shade would work best. She spent the next hour helping you cover your cuts and bruises, and by the time you were done, you didn't look half bad.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as she packed up her things and shoved her sneakers back on.
"A little less sore," you admitted. "I should be able to work tomorrow."
"Why don't you take one more day? Joel said you're going down to the station tomorrow, it might take more out of you than you expect."
You thought it over for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. Money was a concern, but you could wait one more day, and maybe you could pick up an extra shift over the weekend.
You thanked her as she headed down the steps and she reminded you again to call her and Tommy if you ever needed anything, and you promised you would.
When you were finally on your own again, you sat in silence, thinking about these people who barely knew you, who you essentially lied to, banding together to help you out. It was unlike anything you were used to, and you were beginning to think you may have finally found your home.
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The next morning, you paced around your living room, anxiously nibbling at your nails as you waited for Joel to ring the bell. He had insisted on picking you up. He said he could swing by after he dropped Sarah off at school, that it wouldn't be a problem and he passed by your apartment anyway. You didn't understand why he was so insistent: the walk was less than ten minutes, but you didn't feel like arguing.
You were checking your makeup job in the mirror for the fifth time when the bell rang. With a deep sigh, you pulled on your sneakers, slung your purse over your shoulder and headed down the steps. When you opened the door, he was standing with his back to you under a brown blazer and his arms crossed, trying to appear casual for anybody who might be walking by, but when he heard you step through the door he swiveled around quickly.
"Good morning," you said to him with a small smile after you were sure the door was locked tight.
"Mornin'. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," you said as he led you to his truck parked a little ways down the street.
"You really didn't have to do this, you know," you said again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.
"I know," was all he said before opening the passenger door for you and giving you a hand to step up into the cab.
The quick ride to the station was quiet, only the hum from his radio filling the air as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. When he parked the truck and you made a move to open the door, he held a hand out.
"Wait a minute, I gotta talk to you before we go in there."
You dropped your hand to your lap and looked at him expectantly.
"I can't take your statement today, I'm gonna have another officer do it," he said, his words rushed like he knew you wouldn't take the news well. And you didn't.
"What?!" you cried out softly, anxiety already creeping up and squeezing your chest.
"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, taking a deep breath and glancing out the windshield before looking back at you. "There's a conflict of interest. Patrick assaulted me, and if I go and take your statement, it won't look good to a judge."
"Oh my god," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.
"It'll be okay. I'll be right there the whole time. Right on the other side of the glass, okay? I promise, I won't leave."
He watched you for a minute, waiting for you to say something, and when you didn't he began to question himself.
"Unless you don't want me to hear, I don't have to-"
"No, I'd prefer you be there," you said quickly.
He nodded and took a deep breath in.
"I asked a female officer to do it. Her name's Beth. She's real nice, she's dealt with... situations like this in the past."
"Okay," you said softly, reaching for the handle, but once again he stopped you.
"One more thing. I gotta cut him loose tomorrow."
You squeezed your eyes shut. You knew this would happen, but it didn't stop you from feeling the overwhelming sense of dread that crept up your spine.
"It'll be fine. I'll file the restraining order today. If he comes within fifty feet of you, he's goin' right back to jail, okay?" he said, his hand coming up to rest assuringly on your knee.
"Okay," you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
"You can do this. I know you can."
You had to hold back the tears that sprung up when his words hit your ears. Nobody has ever believed in you, listened to you, took care of you the way he did, and he hardly even knew you. People who have been in your life for years, your own family didn't encourage you the way Joel did. On one hand, it was depressing to realize it took this long for someone to give a shit, but on the other hand, you were so, so relieved someone finally did.
As Joel led you into the station, he kept his head held high, ignoring the glances shot your way and you did your best to do the same. You followed him towards the back, and you hesitated a brief moment before entering the interrogation room, pushing all the bad memories to the back of your mind and focusing on the present.
You needed to put an end to this, once and for all.
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You were doing okay. It was half an hour into giving your statement to Beth, and Joel was right. She seemed very kind and patient, and you relaxed after speaking with her for just a few minutes. Or maybe it was because you knew Joel was just a few feet away, watching from the other side of the glass, just like he promised. Whatever it was, you were doing better than you expected.
You had gotten through the bullet points of your history with Patrick. You had detailed how you met after you graduated from high school, how he had just gotten back from basic training with the Marines and was applying to join the Philadelphia police department. You explained how at first, things were great. He was loving and kind, for the most part, but you had been inexperienced and didn't recognize the red flags when you saw them. Like when he got overly possessive at house parties, and especially so when he started drinking. At first, you had thought it was sweet, but then he started getting a little rough. You explained at the time, he would apologize the next day and promise not to do it again, but a few weeks later, he would inevitably go back on his word. The cycle repeated itself over and over for a year, until he proposed one night in front of your entire family, and you had felt pressured to say yes. You had hoped it was just nerves, that eventually you would be excited about marrying him, but it never came. He had rushed you into planning the ceremony and you were only engaged for a few short months. And again, you fooled yourself into thinking everything was just happening so fast, that it was so stressful planning a wedding and that one day, you would be happy.
You couldn't remember the argument that caused him to first hit you. To really hit you, enough to leave a nasty bruise, but you remembered the shock, and you remembered the pain and the fear. And once again, he had apologized the following day, and you forgave him. Because you were weak and scared and confused.
"Did anybody in your life notice?" Beth asked, her eyes filled with what appeared to be genuine concern.
"I hid it at first, but eventually, yes, people noticed," you admitted, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.
"Did they offer to help you?"
"My cousin," you said, looking down at your hands. "She helped me... she helped me find a clinic so I wouldn't get pregnant."
"Did Patrick know you were on birth control?" Beth asked gently while scratching away with her pen on paper.
"No, I didn't think he would like that."
"Why not?"
"He's made comments to me in the past about wanting a big family, and I was afraid to tell him no. I was afraid he would hurt our children, too," you said, still staring down at your hands.
"Has he raped you?" Beth asked bluntly, and you visibly balked.
"Oh, um," you faltered, the word for whatever reason sending shockwaves through you. You knew the answer, but you just hated admitting it.
"Yes," you finally said, your voice cracking, so you cleared your throat and took a sip of water.
"I'm sorry," Beth said quietly, catching your gaze and giving you a sympathetic look. "I won't ask too much today, but you need to know if this goes to trial, a judge will ask for a lot more detail. You can get a lawyer and they will help walk you through it when the time comes." She reached out across the table to place her hand on top of yours, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. You nodded, wordlessly telling her to keep going.
"When did it start?"
"Right after we got married, I think."
"How often?" she asked, pulling her hand back so she could focus on writing.
"A few times a week, I guess? I mean, I don't know what counts. A lot of the times I wouldn't be in the mood and he would pressure me, other times were more... deliberate." You swallowed and glanced quickly at the mirror behind Beth, suddenly regretting asking Joel to listen.
"Did you tell your parents?" Beth asked, glancing up at you.
"I told my mom, yes."
"And what did she say?"
"She told me it was a wife's duty to... be available to her husband. She didn't think it was rape." You spit the last word out like it was poison on your tongue. Beth winced but tried to hide it by looking down at her notes.
"And when would he hit you?"
"It varied. Most of the time it was when he was drunk or high. He promised me all the time he would get help, but he never stuck with it."
"Did you ever have to go to the hospital?"
"Yes. A few times. He's broken my arm twice, fractured my hip, and I've had a few concussions. On one occasion, he strangled me until I lost consciousness. I had to be admitted for a bruised trachea." You absentmindedly rubbed your arm and neck as you spoke, your fingers gliding over the old wounds.
"And you've gone to the police before?" she asked.
"Yes, a couple times, but -" you could feel your resolve breaking, and you bit your lower lip to keep it from trembling. "But he always did something to make it go away, and then he would get really mad. One time when I went to file a complaint, he had a cop friend of his lock me in a room just like this one for a whole day. To teach me a lesson." You twirled your finger around the sparse room, tears glistening in your eyes. "They didn't let me out, I couldn't use the bathroom, I didn't have anything to eat or drink. I was all alone."
You stopped talking and tucked your chin against your chest, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. You wiped a shaky palm against your cheek, drying the tears that fell before you looked back up.
"There were times he would be gone for two or three days at a time and come back, all strung out and crazy... those were the times, the times I went to the police, that I ended up in the hospital. So I stopped asking cops for help."
She nodded as she wrote, giving you a minute to collect yourself before her next question. You glanced up at the mirror again and wondered what Joel was thinking. Did he leave? Or was he still there? You almost hoped he had left. You were feeling too vulnerable as it was, but the thought of him looking at you with pity after this was over made your stomach turn.
"I've done this before," you said suddenly, pulling her attention off the page. "And it always ends up the same. Please tell me this will be different."
"It will be different," she said immediately, her jaw set. She put her pen down on her pad and laced her fingers together. "I'm so sorry the justice system as failed you so tremendously, but we will do everything we can for you now that you're here."
You nodded and wiped more of your tears away before she handed you a box of tissues from a small cabinet in the corner of the room. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you met her gaze once again.
"What else?"
"I think that's enough for today," she said, flipping the pages closed on her legal pad. "We got your doctor's report this morning, and combined with this statement we will start the process of formally pressing charges. After that, if he pleads not guilty, it will go before a judge. But let's take it one step at a time, okay?"
"Okay," you said quietly, gathering your purse and following her out of the room. Your eyes immediately drifted around the hallway and then the bullpen, searching for Joel, but he was nowhere to be found. You frowned as Beth led you towards the front lobby, prepared to walk home, when you heard his voice call your name just as you were opening the door.
"I'll take you home," he said. His face looked hardened and his eyes looked distant.
"You don't have to," you began, but he just shook his head and gingerly cupped your elbow, directing you out the door and into the parking lot.
The ride back was silent. He didn't even have the radio on. You glanced out your window nervously, trying not to read too much into it, but when he dropped you off with barely a comforting word or any acknowledgement of what you confessed, you were convinced your greatest fear had come true. Now that he knew it all, now that he finally heard the truth, he couldn't look at you the same.
You were glad Maria had the foresight to tell you to stay home that day. You were mentally exhausted. Rehashing everything and then Joel's reaction put you in an awful mood. By 4pm, after lounging around watching mindless television and checking your phone constantly for any sign of life from Joel, you decided to just make yourself an early dinner, take a shower and then go to bed early.
As you were stepping out of the shower, the water finally turned off and all of the day's makeup covering your wounds down the drain, you heard your doorbell ringing incessantly. Repeatedly. Urgently.
A jolt of dread shot down your spine, but you remembered Joel said Patrick wouldn't be let out until tomorrow. But what if he got out early? What if he made a phone call and Joel was forced to release him?
Wrapped in a robe, your hair dripping down and soaking the thin material, you jogged to the living room and checked your phone. Surely, if Patrick was released, Joel would have warned you, but you didn't have any missed calls or texts. Then the pounding on the door started, making you jump out of your skin.
Slowly, you crept down the stairs, your hand gripping the doorknob tightly, your fingers hovering over the lock.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side, and your eyes widened in shock. You glanced down at your robe, little streaks and drops of wetness trailing down the shiny material.
"Uh, can you -"
"Please open up, people are startin' to look at me like I'm crazy."
With a sigh, you unlocked the door and stepped back, clutching your robe tightly against your chest. Joel squeezed inside and shut the door quickly behind him before turning around, his eyes raking quickly up and down your body before looking you in the eye.
"You were in the shower."
"Yeah," you said, glancing around anxiously before looking up the stairs. "Did you want to come up or something?" He just nodded slowly, his eyes flitting down once again as you led him up the steps.
"I got worried, I was ringin' the bell but I guess you couldn't hear it," he explained, taking off his shoes and shrugging off his blazer.
"What were you worried about? He's still in jail, right?" you asked, handing him some water before sitting down on the couch.
"Yeah, I just... I shouldn'tve left you alone earlier. I shoulda stayed." He stood there, a glass of water in his hand, the other rubbing over his mouth nervously.
You stared at one another for a moment, both trying to figure the other one out. He was breathing faster than normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly under his white button down shirt.
"Why are you here, Joel?" you finally asked, your heart starting to beat faster. "Because if it's out of pity, I don't want it."
"It's not -" he cut himself off and shifted his weight before setting the water down. "It's not pity." He took two steps and sunk down into your couch, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to say.
"It's not fair," he finally said quietly. So quietly, you almost didn't hear him. "Everything that's happened. It's not fuckin' fair."
You scrunched your nose, confused, as you looked at him still staring down at the floor. You were about to open your mouth and ask him what he meant when he spoke again.
"I never shoulda let you leave with him that day. Somethin' felt off, I felt it in my gut-" he sat back to press his hand against his stomach for emphasis. "But I let you go. And he -"
He couldn't finish his sentence, his throat closing up as he fought to blink the tears away.
"It's not your fault, Joel," you told him, resting a hand on his broad shoulder but he stood up quickly to pace around the room.
"I'll never let it happen again," he muttered. "Never gonna let him near you again. I'll fuckin' kill him if I have to, he's never comin' here again." His voice was rising as he spoke, his breath coming in short stutters as he rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers, eyes wide and crazed as the panic seized him.
So it wasn't pity. It was guilt that brought him to you.
"Joel, calm down," you said, standing up to reach out to him, but he kept pacing.
"Oh fuck, I'm never gonna forgive myself," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"You didn't do this to me, he did," you assured him, trying to get him to stop moving. "You're helping me, Joel. You're the only one who ever really tried to help me. There's nothing to forgive."
He finally paused and glanced at you, his breath a little shallow as the panic began to subside.
"I'm gonna get you outta this, I promise," he said, his voice sounding more steady.
"I know," you replied, nodding your head.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and tore his eyes away from you to glance at his watch.
"I better go," he said regrettably, looking back up at you again.
"Okay," you said, following him to the door and leaning against the wall as he put his shoes back on.
"D'you need anythin'? Did you eat? I can -"
"I ate, I'm fine," you told him with a small smile. "Thank you, though."
"Alright," he said after a moment, then forced himself to open the door. Before he stepped through, he looked back at you over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'm working dinner tomorrow," you told him, suddenly feeling crestfallen you wouldn't see him for lunch.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated, more firm this time. You slowly nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping he couldn't see through your robe.
You listened sadly as his heavy footsteps descended the stairs and the door shut softly behind him. You knew him well enough at this point that he would have turned the lock on the knob before he left but you still wanted to peek down the steps to check. Your eyes widened when, to your surprise, he was still standing there at the bottom of your stairs, his back leaning up against the door. His eyes flicked up to meet yours when he noticed movement, and you saw Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he spoke.
"I can't leave."
You looked at one another for a long moment, your heart slamming in your chest, knowing what this meant. You were sick and tired of always trying to do the right thing. Where did it get you? How could you even fool yourself into thinking you had any obligation to Patrick anymore? Joel knew everything now. He knew what he was doing, so you said the words that were on the tip of your tongue. The words that you knew would open the door for something both of you wanted so desperately, you could taste it.
"Then stay."
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backtothefanfiction · 2 months
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I Run To You | Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: when your abusive ex turns up drunk on your doorstep, yet again, there’s only one person you can turn to.
Warning: angst, implied past domestic assault, high school sweethearts, hurt/comfort, make out session
(Takes place pre-breakout)
A/N: this has been sat in my drafts for a while, thought I should finally finish it.
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It’s late… and cold. Your fingers hesitate, curled in tightly, nails digging into the palm of your hand, as you hold them millimetres from his front door. You know he said last time to knock on his door the next time Jack came looking for you again… and for the time after that… and the time after that; but you can’t keep running back here forever. At some point you need to take a stand. Beside he was a widow. He had a young kid who was definitely sound asleep upstairs and shouldn’t be disturbed by your knocking at the door.
Then you remember Jack and his literal drunk jack hammering of his fist on your door. He was no doubt still there now, even though you had turned all the lights off in the house and snuck out the back window and hopped over the fence.
You brace yourself and knock gently on the door. At first there’s nothing, as to be expected for one o’clock in the morning when everyone should be asleep and you knock like a pussy, not wanting to be an inconvenience. But you can see the faint glow from the tv still on in the living room. You know he’s still downstairs, even if he has fallen asleep on the sofa as usual.
You knock a little louder. It takes a moment, but this time an orange glow illuminates the front room as he turns on a lamp. You watch as his shadow looms into sight through the tiny windows set into the front door.
When he opens it, he’s still rubbing sleep from his eyes, but the rest of his expression feigns one of alertness and concern. After all, no one would be knocking at the door at this time of night unless it was an emergency.
“Hey.” He says with a slight frown as he takes you in in your shorts and vest top pyjama set and uggs, an old cream cardigan pulled tightly around you, the only thing standing between you and the mid February night time chill. “What are you-“ but his whispered voice trails off as he suddenly snaps to attention, remembering the only reason why you’d be here like this. You watch as he begins to look left and right up and down the street past you.
It brings tears to your eyes to know after all this time he still cares for you.
He brings his attention back to you as he sees you shift from one foot to the other, your teeth worrying at your lip, fingers pulling at your cardigan sleeves. “Come on, come in.” He says, stepping to the side and opening the door wider, ushering you into the warmth of his home.
“I don’t want to wake Sarah.” You whisper to him anxiously but he merely ushers you further inside as he closes the door behind you.
“You won’t.”
He ushers you back towards the kitchen, quietly closing the door behind you both so the sound won’t carry upstairs to where his little girl is sound asleep.
“I should just move.” You say as he begins to potter about the kitchen, gathering the things he needs to make a pot of decaf coffee for you both.
“You shouldn’t have to.” He grunts, trying to hide his own frustration with your situation.
It had been him after all who had driven you down to the station to report Jack when he had run into you in the local supermarket and seen you covered in bruises. It should have only been a quick “how are you?” “How are you?” “I am fine.” “I am fine,” catch up between old high school sweethearts who drifted away from each other. But the way he suddenly stepped up for you, it was like no time had passed and you quickly became close friends again. Especially when you realise he only lived a street away from you all these years.
Alas, when Jack was interviewed by the police the whole thing became a he said, she said thing and he got off with a slap on the wrist. Still it had given you the confidence to finally leave him, with a little extra help from Joel. Shame the man was like a boomerang and whenever he had one too many drinks, he’d show back up on your doorstep claiming to love you and begging for you to take him back.
The first time he had shown up was when Sarah had been away at summer camp and so you had no problem calling Joel and he of course came running, encouraging Jack to go home. He slept on your sofa that night, just to be sure.
When he showed up on Halloween, he thought it would be hilarious to show up with a mask and smash in the back door. You had immediately run to Joel’s and he made you stay at his whilst he called the police and went and chased Jack back out the house himself. He then changed the locks for you the following day.
For Christmas, he thankfully didn’t break in, however he did pound on the door for a solid hour and a half, claiming to have a special present for you. You seriously doubted that. Unfortunately Joel had taken Sarah to go stay with his Mom for the holidays and wasn’t in, but he was sure to send a couple of his buddies from the construction site over in his stead to scare them off.
“I just can’t keep living like this.” You said as he handed you the steaming mug of coffee and you gratefully wrapped your frozen fingers around it to warm them up. “I’m just so tired of it Joel.”
“I know, I know.”
“Seriously, save from completely moving state, I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s not going to come to that.” He said, reaching his hand across the table to take your shaking hands in his, holding them steady. His fingers were rough from all the manual labour he does, but still comforting, still so familiar after all these years.
The sudden reminder of all that history between yourselves made you both grow quiet, a sudden change in energy between you from that one innocent touch. It made you tingly. It made you warm. In all honesty- it freaked you out. You tried to meet his eyes, but it just made it worse. You quickly pulled your hands from his grasp and wrapped them around your warm coffee cup instead.
“I shouldn’t keep bothering you.” You said quietly into your mug.
“No.” He said firmly but kindly, “I want you to bother me.”
You looked at him then- and really looked at him. He had this look in his eyes. Something hidden and unspoken, like something he couldn’t even acknowledge clearly in his own head, let alone say out loud. There was an admiration there. But also guilt.
“Joel…” you said shakily, your voice hesitant and tentative. You needed him to say it. You wouldn’t allow your mind to wander- to hope he might still like you and want you after all these years- until he said it.
His head hung in defeat, eyes staring down into his coffee cup. He couldn’t say it.
“I should just go.” You said, immediately getting up from the table, an instinct deep in your bones telling you to run. If you didn’t even allow the space for the possibility- the opportunity- then you would never know and then there would definitely be no chance of feeling your heart break again.
You’d barely stepped past his chair towards the kitchen door, when his hand flew out to encircle your wrist. It held firm and your body grew rigid as sudden memories from your past suddenly flooded your mind, your body. But he was slow to rise. Feeling your tension at his action he softened his grip, you could slip your wrist free if you wanted. But you didn’t.
“Don’t go.” He pulled slightly at your arm, encouraging you to step back towards him. You did.
Where you struggled to look at him just moments before, now it was like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He encouraged you closer still; and as you stepped forward one last step he raised his hands to either side of your face. Neither one of you were able to say anything, your eyes doing all the talking for you.
You watched as his eyes moved from searching your own, to seeking out your lips and back. A moment later he was moving in for the kiss and you found your eyes closing in anticipation, your whole body compliant, ready for him to use however he wanted. But for now, all he wanted was a kiss.
His lips were soft. He tasted like black coffee. This close to him, you could smell the soap and the cheap apple scented shampoo he used. You couldn’t help but sigh into his mouth, your lips parting and granting him permission to deepen the kiss.
You had no idea how much you’d wanted this. How long you’d wanted this. Far longer than you’d care to admit- not just to yourself but everyone else too.
His touch grew firmer as his hand snaked around the back of your neck to hold you in place, the other sliding down your body and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. Still in a daze- barely able to acknowledge this was finally happening- you slowly began to lift your hands from your sides to touch him. Your fingers traced up the broad muscles of his back, his T-shirt was so soft.
He hummed against your lips in reaction to your touch and it sent a warmth between your legs to know he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him. It made you hold him tighter, your hands gripping tightly around his shoulder muscles, your nails digging into his flesh over the top of his T-shirt as you held him tighter to you. Your touch made him desperate and hungry for more. When his tongue teased at the entrance to your mouth, you didn’t hesitate to meet it with your own, your breaths growing ragged with need.
He used his body to push you back towards the table, the back of your thighs meeting the wooden top, shunting the table back slightly. You both froze at the sound of the rubber stoppers on the table legs, dragging across the linoleum floor. You took the pause- waiting to see if you had woken Sarah- to catch your breaths, your chests rising and falling in rhythm with one another.
Although it was clear she was still asleep, neither one of you moved or leaned back in to restart your sudden make out session. As you watched his eyes you could already feel him retreating, his guilt setting in.
“It’s okay,” you quickly said, “we can take things slow.” You said to him, desperately needing to hold on to this now it was out in the open. You didn’t care how long it took, you wanted him and you were willing to wait for him.
He slowly nodded, as his fingers sought out your own, the limbs tangling and intertwining. “Stay.” He slowly said.
“Okay.” You quietly agreed and nodded.
“No, I mean it… Stay. Move in with us.” He said and your brow furrowed. “You can have the spare room. He won’t bother you anymore if you’re here.” You were silent as you realised what it was he meant.
He lifted your cardigan back up onto your shoulder from where it had slid down. “Stay.” He said again softly.
“Okay.” You breathed.
“Yeah?” He said, wanting to make sure.
“Yeah. I’ll stay.” You nodded and agreed a little more firmer and he smiled.
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kkami-writes · 9 months
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waiting for us — masterlist pt 2: electric boogaloo
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pairing. OT8 x fem!reader synopsis. At age 16 you either get your soul mark (in the form of your soulmates name somewhere on your body) or you become a blank, someone who doesn't have a soulmate. You've long lost any semblance of hope or comfort in the magic of soulmates, despite the fact that you have 8 of them. genre. soulmate!au, college!au, social media!au + written parts, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut cw. swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos, skz should be in horny jail, eventual smut (MDNI), domestic abuse, sexual assault/harassment, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal tendencies/thoughts, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, male x male relationships (skz are soulmates), polyamory, kms/kys jokes, mentions of homophobia + transphobia, lots of written parts, reader is really bad at feelings, ulzzang pics (this is more so to focus on the fashion), appearance of junhao, yeji and hyunjin are siblings, more to be added wanna support my work? consider buying me a coffee.
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go back to masterlist part one. Chapter forty one. sunset Chapter forty two. ferret coded Chapter fourty three. more rumours Chapter forty three point five. a talk w/ hyune Chapter forty four. to nationals Chapter forty five. andong Chapter forty six. moonlight (s) Chapter forty seven. congrats on the sex Chapter forty eight. concern Chapter forty nine. afterparty Chapter fifty. +8 Chapter fifty one. the wedding (s) Chapter fifty two. jypapi Chapter fifty three. the thread Chapter fifty four. lore drop Chapter fifty four point five. threats Chapter fifty five. time skip
bonus chapters: everyone's sexual preferences. thirst tweets. handsome boys. size boyfriend day! memes part one | part two alignment charts the bet of who's gonna kick mio's brothers ass.
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whumpacabra · 1 year
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Day 24 - Secrets
Whump of a minor [17-18 years old], anxiety, fear for loved ones' safety, fear of domestic abuse, panic attack, found footage, referenced medical oxygen tank, captivity and torture mention
[Follows David Alone | Tape #2]
Marco’s hands gripped the bus support, sticky with sweat. The dry heat of the desert city certainly didn’t have enough humidity to blame for the sheen accumulating on the stainless steel finish.
The thought had struck him days ago, when reluctantly watching the last tape. The dates aligned almost perfectly. Antonio had met Berto around the time the taping began. Berto moved in with him when the taping stopped.
Did he know?
It was hard to imagine his uncle Berto an accomplice - especially when he first started dating Antonio. Weak, sickly, still underweight and constantly checked by nurses sent from the hospital. This led to the second, horrifying thought.
Did Antonio ever hurt Berto the way he tormented his victim?
It would have been easy to hide. Marco’s uncles lived on the outskirts of the city, and while Antonio visited often, Berto only made a rare appearance at holiday parties and birthdays. Was it more than fragile health keeping him at home?
As luck would have it, his uncle Antonio was out of town on business and his mother was finally cashing in her all expenses paid weekend vacation to a ski resort down south. To ease her nerves and confront his suspicions, Marco was the one who suggested he spend the weekend with his uncle Berto.
And now, stepping off the bus on a quiet Friday night, Marco realized he would rather be anywhere but here.
The house was small and modest; at first glance, one could easily mistake it to be abandoned except for the meticulously kept cactus garden. Inside an orange glow seeped through the window blinds, warm and inviting.
Somehow the inky sky and its pinprick quilt of stars was more enticing, knowing the same hands that painted the flowers on the mailbox had been painted in another man’s blood.
Berto reached the door before him, although some time had passed since the bus had left Marco standing at the edge of the dusty driveway.
“Marco! It’s getting cold - I have dinner on the table once we get you settled.” Berto’s familiar breathless cadence held a smile, but his words sent a chill down Marco’s spine.
He managed to get through dinner small talk without Berto noticing his creeping anxiety. That, or his uncle was being nice and pretended he didn’t notice the shake in Marco’s hands or the stutter caught in his throat. It was the latter.
“Are you alright, Marco?” The lightness to Berto’s voice had dropped, that voice relatives use with people they see once or twice a year replaced with something thick with worry and soft with compassion.
Marco took a deep breath and muted the television. Neither of them had been paying attention to the soccer scores all night anyway.
No use beating around the bush.
“Has…has uncle Toni ever hurt you?”
There. For a split second Marco saw what he had been dreading - a sharp glint of fear in his uncle’s eyes, quickly replaced with surprise and concern.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Why don’t you answer?” Marco felt a pang of guilt in his gut the way Berto recoiled at his tone as though he had been slapped. The worry in his voice was replaced with fear again - softer, but cold.
“Has he hurt you? Your mother?” Berto’s voice was a whisper, the hum of electricity from the overhead light a little too loud.
“No - no.” Marco shook his head. “But are you hurt - ?”
“No.” There was a firmness to Berto’s voice that was laced with something that might be construed as anger. “Why would you think that? Your uncle Toni is a good man - he’s gentle and kind and always tries to do the right thing.”
Berto’s breathing shuddered, and he adjusted the settings in his oxygen tank. Marco was trying to find the right words as his uncle’s eyes, still tinged with that bitter fear, watched him with concern.
“I found some tapes.” His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. “Uncle Toni made them - years, years ago. Around the time you first met.”
That flicker of panic passed through Berto’s eyes again.
“Tapes? What are you talking about?”
“The old camcorder I picked up from the flea market a few years back. It had tapes. Six. Two hours each.” Marco couldn’t breathe deep enough to make the ache in his chest go away. “He - he tortured someone - this guy, I - Berto did you know? Did he tell you? Do you know why he would do - do that?”
The words were spilling over his lips now, a floodgate opened. He was shaking, dimly aware of Berto’s unsure hands reaching out to steady him as he cried.
“Shush, it’s alright Marco. You’re alright.” His voice was tight, but he wasn’t crying. Not yet anyway.
Marco held his uncle like lifeline, weeks of stress from this secret and all the conflicting emotions it brought finally spilling free. As his sobs softened and his breathing evened, he had one clear thought.
Berto never answered Marco's question - did he know?
[Before Blind Date]
(Part of my Freelancers: Post-Retirement series)
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ivystoryweaver · 1 year
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This is the Masterlist for my story "With You"
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Part 9a Part 9b Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
Part 16: Conclusion
My Masterlist
Pairing: Established relationship. Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley x gn!reader. Reader is engaged to Marc/Steven. Jake is new. So elements of slow burn/idiots in love. No use of y/n
Summary: Your fiancé is 2 years sober, so what could have possibly upset him enough to challenge that? (It's Khonshu and Jake). A look at how the system learns about continued servitude to Khonshu and a new alter, with you - their fiancé(e) - by their side
Overall fic content/warnings: Angst, drinking, alcoholism/addiction, hangover, cursing, hurt/comfort, references to past abuse, longing, feeling inadequate, some banter/bickering, mentions of food, domestic fluff, slice of life, nightmare, crying, romance, violence, injury, blood, implied sex, some sex but the language remains vague and gn - more erotic than explicit, not beta'd
Immersibility: Reader is gn, is somewhat shorter than Marc/Steven/Jake and able to wear their clothes around the house
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lululandd · 1 year
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part-time psycho;
pairing: yandere!ghost x f!reader
wordcount: 1,921
warning: mentions of murder, implied cheating, jealousy, possessive behaviour
note: please understand this is fiction, i do not condone any of these behaviours irl (also on ao3)
summary: 
He’d be out drinking with his work friends, he said. Won’t drink too much because he had to drive home after, he said. You don’t have to pick him up because he doesn’t know what time he’ll be back, he said. Some of his friends might get super drunk and he might have to drive them home, he said.
Those were the things you remember him saying before he kissed you goodbye. 
You were roused from sleep by the sound of the front door slamming, and then people talking. There was an unfamiliar voice besides Simon’s, but you try not to listen too hard. But even your sleep-addled brain noted how odd that there were giggles and chuckles one moment and then… dead silence. Something felt wrong, the little voice in your head—the voice that kills people in horror movies, Simon would say—tells you to go check to see what it is. Groaning a little to shake the lethargy from your bones, you get out of bed and walk towards the stairs, but you only made it halfway down.
A woman was sitting on top of him, on the sofa. The woman Simon introduced you to months ago. His co-worker, his teammate, the person that has taken a bullet or two for him and vice versa. You can’t lie, she intimidated you from the very beginning. Their apparent closeness, their easy banter that you can never follow, the countless inside jokes, the way her hand always landed on him when she thought you weren’t looking, and her features. They were so similar to yours, and you don’t know which is worse, whether you came into his life first, or her.
Drowsiness left you as anxious dread seeps in. They spoke too quietly for you to hear, but you don’t care. Friends don’t sit on each other's laps like that, and certainly not facing one another. Feelings of inadequacy filled your mind as you walked briskly towards the front door and took off, grabbing whatever coat was on the hook. You just had to get out of there, far away from what you had just witnessed. Wiping the tears that blurred your vision, you notice your feet take you to the nearest pub, and you stand outside dumbly for a couple of seconds. 
That night was bitterly cold, and you wished you had taken a thicker coat. Putting your hands in your pocket, you realise you have no money. You didn’t take anything but the spare house keys, your phone, and the coat on your way out. The slippers you're wearing are the fuzzy kind meant for indoors. Digging in your pockets, you hoped past you left a couple of quid in there. You found two tenners in the inner pocket, and you shuffled inside to get a drink or two.
The pretty bartender with the large earrings noticed you immediately and asked whether you need help and if she should call the police. Glancing at the mirror behind the bar, you saw you were a complete and utter wreck and she was right to be worried. You made sure to convince her that you were just sad and not some victim of domestic abuse before ordering some shots. She gave you a worried look before grabbing the drinks.
You downed both drinks in quick succession as soon as they arrived. The first burn hadn’t even registered fully before you chased it with another one. Today’s not the day for sane choices and comfort, you need to dull the pain as quickly as you can.
It’s funny, being tipsy. Your brain doesn’t even know when it started, you suddenly are. It doesn’t matter much anymore that Simon had brought a woman that looks much like you home, you can live just fine without him. It’s not like he’s the best boyfriend anyway, he left so often and so long sometimes you don’t feel like lovers. Maybe he had already demoted you from that position long ago and you were too stupid and blind to notice.
It took you a while to realise someone was sitting next to you. Letting out a deep sigh that definitely lasted longer than you thought you could, you didn’t even have to look to know it was him.
“Will you be coming home tonight?”
You’ve heard this tone before. It’s the careful one he uses when he knows you’re upset. The voice that is laced with sympathy and understanding. But this time you don’t know if that question was borne out of malice or legitimate concern, so you ignored him. The glass of water that the pretty barkeep gave to you looks very interesting right now.
The silence stretched for a painful amount of time before it was Simon’s turn to sigh. “Would you believe me if I told you I was drunk and rejected her advances?”
You were bitterly reminded of how she was sitting on his lap earlier. How close her face had been to his. How her hands had been curling on his neck, and his hands probably sitting on her waist. You didn’t see or didn’t remember, but that’s where your mind placed it, the only logical place it could be.
He slid his car keys your way. “Wherever you’re going, at least take the car. Don’t take cabs this late at night.” And when you didn’t react, he left.
You left the pub after your fifth glass of water and a repeated play of Justin Bieber’s ‘Baby’—the staff were laughing while you heard one yell out profanities from the backroom—to check on the car. It suspiciously had your wallet, his hoodie, some cash haphazardly thrown on the front seat, and a large knife when you checked the glove box. You looked at your phone and mass texted your friends to see which one of them was awake and kind enough to let you crash at their place for the night.
One of your best friends replied, and you decided to go there immediately. They kindly offered their place for a week or two, but you ended up leaving on the second day. You had calmed down a little, and your friend suggested you talked this out instead of just making more and more assumptions in your head.
“The longer you’re not talking, the more your brain makes shit up.”
You joked that they just wanted you out asap and it ended up in a pillow fight that made you forget about your problems for a little while.
Driving home was the hardest. The scene keeps replaying in your head and your brain racks up the jealousy. How long have they been going behind your back? Is he just dating you because he can’t have her for some reason? Was whatever he was saying true, that he rejected her advances?
You found a parking spot not far from the house because for some reason you didn’t want him to see you coming.
As you opened the front door, you were met by two set of eyes looking bewildered at your direction. Simon’s arms were still on her waist while hers were draped over his shoulders.
Fuck these people.
Fuck him.
You threw Simon’s car keys on the floor and walked out, ignoring his pleas for you to wait and listen.
There was only one place to go now. Your parents. They welcomed you graciously, knowing you had a fight and wanting some space from your boyfriend even when you didn’t tell them at all about what happened. A week went by without any calls or texts from Simon, you decided it was time to go back and pack the fuck out of your stuff to live with your parents for a while. Why should you even think about being with him when he doesn’t even try to apologise. Living with your parents has reminded you what love could–should–be. Waking up next to each other every day, knowing they’re safe and within reach and not whatever it is you have with Simon where he goes missing for months at a time without contact. It was nice waking up to the sight of your parents chattering about, jokingly telling you to not burn the house down as they go to work, reminding you of your teenage years.
Thankfully Simon wasn’t home when you went to pack. It’s decided that you’ll only take your clothes for now and leave the paraphernalia for later. If you’re lucky, his job called while you were away and you can pack in peace.
But you weren’t so lucky.
“You’ve lost weight.” You jumped at the sound of his voice. Simon was a deathly quiet man when he needed to be. You didn’t hear the front door being open and shut or even his footsteps. He looked awful, his face unkempt with bloodshot eyes, his hair mussed, and his clothes dishevelled.
“I’m not wearing makeup so I look shit.” You retorted.
You had to look away as soon as you saw him bristle. He stayed silent for a while, his gaze focused on every facet of your face before going back to staring you down.
“Why are you lying?” His voice came as a quiet snarl, a low gruff that sounded like it hasn’t been used in days. 
“Because that’s also what you’re doing.” You threw the meanest look you could towards him, and you’d like to think that��s why he broke eye contact with you. Unable to help yourself, you continued, “Rejecting her advances my ass, Riley.”
Hearing his last name, he proceeded to cut across the room and reached for you, strong arms instantly curling around your waist as he turned you around to face the open armoire. You felt the need to run, to fight back, but what else could you do but submit? The man is 193 centimetres of pure trained muscles that can hold you full nelson for however long it takes him to fuck you in front of the mirror until he feels satisfied, while you run out of breath carrying the neighbour’s fat tabby for two minutes. You are a little rabbit at the mercy of a wolf.
Weak.
Pathetic.
“I'm truly sorry you had to see me when I tried to lure her into a false sense of security.” He pulled you even closer, your back gently bumping against his chest. “If I drove you to where her head is buried will you finally believe me?” 
Only half the words registered in your mind, “Simon this isn’t funny.”
Trying to wriggle away awarded you with a hiss and him nuzzling on the crook of your neck. 
“Wasn’t joking, love.”
“Simon.” You pleaded desperately. You felt sick. You knew he was a dangerous man, but he had told you, convinced you, that he would never hurt y–
Realisation hits in a revolting wave of nausea. He had never said he wouldn’t hurt others. “Simon?”
“Yes, dear?” He muttered, lips pressing intently against the sensitive parts of your ears.
His hold no longer felt safe, there’s desperation and a dangerous kind of hunger lingering underneath his touch. “D-did you keep a trophy? Of her, I mean.”
You think if he could just show you some sort of proof, you could somehow take it and just start running.
“Why the fuck,” Simon’s voice was suddenly laced with seething fury that you flinched in his arms. “Would I keep trophies of people that caused you pain?” His statement chilled you to your core and you stopped trembling for a moment. 
A choked, terrified whisper escaped you. “S-Simon?” Sickness curled your stomach, your knees buckled as you swayed. You don’t know when your Simon had left and replaced with this monster, or whether there was a Simon at all in the first place.
You felt his lips twitch and curl into a smile on the junction of your neck. "Yes, love?"
“Why was that plural?”
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cordeliawhohung · 10 months
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Blood Soaked Cotton
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Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader - part 1 of "soft spot"
Simon Riley finds himself oddly attached to the kind woman who works at the bank he frequents. He tells himself it’s just a friendly connection and nothing more. But the day he walks in and sees the marks, he realizes just how much of a soft spot he’s developed for her.
Warnings: Language, mentions of Ghost's past (trauma, brief mention/descriptions of SA, abuse), implied domestic violence (not graphically described), unwanted grabbing (not groping), alcohol, descriptions of minor wounds and bruises, soft/grumpy Ghost, reader is a bank teller, hurt/comfort, caring for wounds,
wc: 6k
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It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Really, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. But things never exactly work out how we think they will, and Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises. 
You had seen his face plenty of times before, though not in the way someone would expect. The low resolution picture on his ID was all you had seen of him, and he was very content in keeping it that way. Because of this, he made sure he always got into your line at the bank, as he didn’t really fancy showing his ID to every other teller there. 
Besides not wanting to pass a literal picture of his face around, he might have had something of a soft spot for you. Or, at least as much of a soft spot as a man like him could muster for someone. The very first day he showed up at the bank, he knew almost every single teller there thought he was trying to rob the place. It wasn’t like he could blame them. His towering height and his partialness towards facemasks didn’t exactly make him the most inviting. But even with the normalization of masks after the pandemic, more often than not he was looked at with fear. 
So when the first teller he went up to demanded that he take his mask off for ‘identification purposes,’ he was a little more than peeved. Every other bank he had gone to pretty much tossed his cash towards him without so much as a second glance. That’s what he got for moving into the big city, he supposed. 
But then you stepped in. Told your co-worker that it was fine, that you would help him with his withdrawal, without the need of showing his face. She gave a little huff, and he knew you were probably breaking a million rules by doing that for him, but either way, he was thankful for it. 
So there he was, once again, in your line at the bank. Simon wasn’t one to particularly enjoy using the more advanced forms of currency exchange. Debit cards were fine, but not his favorite, and he wouldn’t be caught dead using PayPal or any type of phone transfers. Cash was comfortable, familiar, and more reliable in his eyes. And tellers were more trustworthy than ATMs, despite the fact that they were still people. 
“Hey there,” you greeted him with a kind smile. 
With just about everyone else, if you knew it, you greeted them by their name. Especially if they were the old regulars you saw several times a week. But not with Simon. It wasn’t for the lack of knowing it, surely, as his name was obviously tied to the account, and he showed up just as often as the old geezers who were just as untrusting as he was. You didn’t seem scared to use his name, or really scared of him at all. Either way, it was just another small detail he appreciated. 
“Hey,” he responded, feeling awkward speaking but knowing you deserved more than just an empty stare. 
He tossed his items onto the counter in front of you, where they clattered against the glass covered wood with tiny tinks. You took the items in your hands, hardly glancing over his ID before sliding it back to him, face down on the counter. 
“The usual?” you questioned, typing away at your system. You sounded more like a waitress taking his order than a teller. 
“Yeah.” 
It was the same amount of cash out every week. Enough to spend throughout the week, which wasn’t much, and enough to save up throughout the month for things such as rent. Not that you knew that, of course. You never asked him any questions that weren’t absolutely necessary. You were straight and to the point, doing your work with a kind smile that he didn’t think he deserved.
He always felt like such a stain in places like that; around people like you. The people with bright smiles, wearing neat and clean clothes with a perfect nine to five. Those four walls glistened with power and wealth, something that he never really wanted to come close to. Even though being nice to him was quite literally your job, he knew deep down he didn’t belong there. 
If it wasn’t for you, he probably would have switched banks long ago. 
“There you go!” you said, your voice chipper as you held the envelope for him. 
Large hands threatened to engulf yours as he reached for the money, yet his hands never did so much as graze your skin. He didn’t bother counting the cash before shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. It had been months since he had been with that bank, and you hadn’t ever miscounted before; he trusted you with that much, at least. 
“Thanks.” It was short, gruff, and to the point. There wasn’t much time he was willing to waste on pleasantries. Not even to the bank teller who knew his face. 
“Have a good one!” 
Have a good one. It was always the same farewell you gave him. Of course the factitious answer that came to mind was ‘have a good one what?’ but he knew better than to be a smart ass. But really, the question truly was a valid one in his mind. Have a good what? Day? Afternoon? Life?
He was too far gone for that. 
After that day, he didn’t see you for a few weeks. He was off doing what he did best; being a soldier. At times, it felt like it was all he knew how to do. Run. Shoot. Kill. Stab. Wash the blood from his uniform and repeat it all the next day if he even lived long enough to see it. 
But he always did, even when he knew he shouldn’t have. Which meant he always returned back home to that small studio apartment. Some nights it felt all too cramped. Those grimey walls forever oozing nicotine from every single pore because of some asshole who couldn’t be arsed to open a damn window when they smoked. The wood floor that was scratched to all hell. That ugly nightstand he bought off of some old man at a yard sale for five quid. Everything, every detail, every crack in that damn apartment was just one more thing threatening to suffocate him, but he didn’t have the time or energy to let that get the better of him. 
He had to go to the bank tomorrow. 
Goddamn.
When he next returned to the bank, something was off. There was no sign of your usual chipper voice that you greeted your patrons with, and your voice had been replaced with something more hoarse. At first he thought you were maybe just sick, but once he was the next one in line, he realized he couldn’t have been more wrong. 
Your clothes always looked nice. A simple blouse, maybe a nice blazer to go over it if the weather wasn’t too warm. Bank tellers always had a way of looking professional and put together, so it was rather jarring when he saw the state of your face. Not that you were particularly mangled or anything, but the split lip was glaringly obvious. 
It tore the delicate skin of your bottom lip vertically, nearing the corner of your mouth. Dark, crunchy scabs clogged the wound up, and he could tell by the way your tongue kept prodding at it that it smarted something fierce. But it didn’t stop there. A slight bruise on the back part of your cheekbone, an even deeper bruise peeking out from underneath your blouse on your collarbone, a broken nail that chipped off uncomfortably close to your nail bed. 
“Simon?” 
Your voice pulled him out of his head as his eyes stopped wandering over your body and landed back on your face. He tried his best to keep his gaze from wandering to your busted lip, but it was difficult when your tongue kept swiping over it. It was so distracting he almost didn’t register that you used his first name. 
“The usual?” you asked. 
Your smile was lopsided, your swollen lip making it impossible to do it properly. And god, hearing that crackling tone in your voice was almost more off putting than the wounds. As if even just hearing the cheerfulness in your voice would make your state seem less serious. 
“What happened?” he questioned, his hands digging into his pockets to pull out the needed documents. 
A sour chuckle left you as you threw your gaze down at the counter. “Suppose that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?” 
When you looked back up at him, his gaze was stony and unrelenting, as if he wasn’t going to let you sidestep it. You sighed as you looked at his hands. He had everything ready to go, yet he held it close to his chest, as if he wasn’t going to relinquish it until you answered him. 
“Got a little drunk last weekend at the pub. Might have biffed it on the curb walking home,” you explained with a half-assed chuckle. 
It was more than that. Simon knew those wounds all too well, and though he usually saw it on himself and other soldiers, there were rare cases he saw them on others. On civilians. And he knew better than anyone else that wounds like that were caused by more than just pavement. 
But he wasn’t about to accost you at work over it, and so he set his items on the counter in front of you, gently sliding them closer to you. Those dark eyes of his didn’t leave you once. You had become a specimen. This interesting creature he suddenly found himself fascinated with. 
He hummed in response to you as your fingers gingerly grabbed his items and you did your usual routine of retrieving his money. The bright pink Hello Kitty band-aid around your finger made you type slower than you normally did, and he couldn’t help but glance back at your lip as your teeth poked out to bite at it. It was never going to heal properly if you kept doing that, but he kept quiet. 
In no time his cash was in front of him, in that simple envelope that you held out in your hands. Despite the obvious pain you were in, you still smiled at him, lopsided and all. For a moment he stared at you, eyes glancing over your wounds, the abrasions you tried to hide. But only for a moment before he took the envelope and shoved it into his pocket like normal. 
Simon started to turn, ready to go about his normal boring civilian-like life. But before he could fully face away from you, a pit formed in his stomach. Something else was off. Maybe not off, but something was missing. Every part of him was screaming out, screaming for him to find it and put it back, and he found his eyes wandering over to you again. 
You hadn’t said goodbye.
That’s when he noticed the blood dribbling down your chin. Whatever crusting scab that had formed on your split lip had cracked, sending a steady flow of blood from your mouth. Your fingers came up to touch the sudden wetness on your face, and he noticed how your eyebrows drew together and your jaw set tight as you blankly stared at the counter, blood trickling down your hand. 
He should have turned. Should have walked away and left you to your own devices. You were a grown woman. You could take care of yourself. Just as soon as that thought had formed in his head, his hands were already reaching into his back pocket where he pulled out a handkerchief. The cloth sat between his fore and middle fingers, where his hand stiffly extended it out for you to take. 
“Here.” 
It used to be white, but had been stained by various things over the years he had it, and it even sported some fraying on the edges. It was clean, at least. Because of this, he was extremely surprised to hear your response to him. 
“I’ll ruin it.” 
Whatever lively tone you normally held had vanished. Distant eyes, a swollen lip, and a voice that seemed utterly broken. In the time it had taken for him to travel halfway across the world and commit acts that kept him up at night, you had changed. Changed in a way that left a sour taste on his tongue. 
“Just take it,” he pressed, the cloth still hanging limply between his fingers. 
You begrudgingly took it from him and promptly placed it against your face. Oxygenated blood stained the off-white cloth with a bright red. Every single fiber of it soaked up the liquid as if it was the soil drinking up water. 
“Thank you,” you said, the words almost failing to leave your lips. 
He paused for a moment. It should have been him saying those words. You gave him his money. All he did was give you a shitty handkerchief. 
“Have a good one,” he said before fully turning around and making his way towards the exit. 
He could practically hear the smile in your voice as you responded. “I’m trying.” 
Once he got home, he tried to forget about it. There was no time or energy in his busy life for him to be worrying about you and your… situation. If he tried to care for every kicked puppy he found he wouldn’t even have the space to breathe. 
But that night when Simon was sharpening his knives, trying to keep his hands and mind busy, he cut his finger. Nothing bad, hardly anything to wince at, but still bleeding enough for it to be a hassle. He reached his hand into his back pocket, only to find nothing. 
“Fucking hell.” 
This is why he hated soft spots. All they did was muddle things up. But what he hated more than that was how he kept trying to rationalize it. No, you weren’t a soft spot, it was just convenient. You were familiar. You were predictable. 
Or at least he thought you were. It wasn’t until he came in the following week that he realized you were a bit different than the persona you wore at work. The very moment he walked through those doors, you were basically beaming. No longer lopsided, your smile was nothing short of a grin as he saw your hands instantly swim around in the pockets of your blazer. He approached you cautiously, a little putoff by how excited you were to see him. 
“I got you something,” you said, grinning. 
He stared at you for a moment as you pulled your hand out of your pocket. Though still extremely visible, your lip had healed up to the point where it probably wouldn’t crack anymore. The dark bruises on your collar bones had also begun to yellow, the blood that pooled there decomposing within you. 
And then you showed him your… gift. A dark handkerchief that had tiny cartoon dogs patterned onto it. You held it out to him like a child showing their parents some shitty art project that they did in school. 
“Figured you’d need another one after I ruined the one you gave me,” you said, wiggling it in your hands for him to take. “You also strike me as a dog person, so this seemed fitting.”
In a way it was almost cute. The idea of it certainly striked you so, anyway. Thinking about this large, somewhat intimidating man keeping something as dainty as a dog patterned handkerchief was certainly entertaining. Much to your surprise, and his own, he actually reached out and took it from you, though he did scoff at the sight of it before shoving it into his back pocket. 
Getting straight to business, he handed you all the necessary items to make the withdrawal from his account, which you happily helped him with. The band aid that had been on your finger the previous week was long gone, revealing your still bloody nail bed. Dark blood pooled just under the nail, almost as if you had painted it with nail polish before giving up after one finger. Still, you were able to type faster than you had the previous week at least.
“Run into any more poles over the weekend?” Simon asked. His dark eyes glanced down at your finger before flickering to your collarbone and then your eyes. 
Pausing, you looked up at him with eyebrows drawn together. “Huh? Oh, yeah uhm… not this weekend,” you answered with an awkward chuckle. 
Simon hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, making him appear even more broad than he already was. For another moment or two he carefully watched you as you counted the cash. As you put it into the envelope, the sleeve of your blazer pulled up slightly, revealing an old bruise on your wrist he hadn’t seen last time. 
“Good,” he responded as you slid the envelope his way. 
The problem with lying wasn’t that it was seen as a shitty thing to do; it was that it was difficult to keep up the narrative. By the sound of it, you were out of practice, and Simon caught onto it almost instantly. Last week it was a curb you fell on. That week, you didn’t correct him when he switched it up. This only further proved his point; that only another pair of hands could do something like that to someone. 
But he already knew that. And so did you.
“See you next week!” you smiled at him. 
That was… different. Much different from your usual farewell to him, and not just in the change of words, but the change of tone as well. You still held that same cheerful tone, but there was another layer to it. Not quite a demand, but not exactly a request either. Perhaps it was… 
A plea? 
But you were right. He did see you the week after that, and the one after that. Each time he saw you, the bruises faded a little more, and your busted lip slowly mended. You talked more than just your regular customer service autopilot, and it was endearing. Of course you did most of the talking, and Simon mostly listened, but every now and then you would pull the ghost of a chuckle from his mouth, or maybe he’d force you to indulge in one of his rather dry jokes. 
Even some of the other tellers, despite their still cautious glances at him, seemed to warm up to him a little bit. Perhaps he had you to thank for that, not that he was exactly trying to win their favor in the first place. Maybe a little comradery with strangers wasn’t such a bad thing. 
Until it was. 
“Would you want to go to the bar with me after work tonight?” 
October brought in a sharp chill to the air that had you wearing a nice knitted sweater to help stave off the draft in the building. Its dark background with popping jack-o-lantern theme matched perfectly with your area of the bank. Despite it only being halfway through the month you had already prepared for Halloween with a bowl of candy sitting on the counter and themed jelly stickers on the window behind you. 
He answered you with a hum, almost sounding confused. Pubs weren’t exactly Simon’s scene. He hated the scent of shitty IPA’s and the grumbling drone of music that hardly anyone listened to anyway. 
“The pub on twenty-first just started selling their seasonal Halloween drinks. They make this super tasty mix with the theme of like, vampires or whatever, that I’ve been dying to try again,” you said, bouncing on your heels. “But none of the girls here want to come with me, and I really hate going anywhere like that alone, so I thought I’d ask you.” 
He wanted to say no. He should have said no. Yet his gruff response left his lips before he had the chance to smother them, and later that night he found himself outside of the pub you described. 
It was a bit nicer than most other bars he had been to, but the very moment he stepped foot inside he knew it was just like the rest. Sour, hoppy scented beer assaulted his nose similar to how it did when it clung to his father’s clothes as a child. Mugs clinked against the wooden bar at the back of the building, and someone was busy racking up a pool table somewhere to his left. 
You stuck out like a sore thumb in your jack-o-lantern themed sweater, arms leaning against the counter as you hunched over your drink. The Friday night crowd parted for him as he made his way to the bar, grabbing the high stool and dragging it out a bit in order to seat himself next to you. 
Meeting in a place like that, Simon had expected things to be awkward, or maybe even a little tense, but it was almost as if nothing could bring you down. Maybe it was just the alcohol (some dark red, fruity scented drink that made his stomach turn) or maybe this was just how you were like when you weren’t at work, but you had turned into an absolute chatterbox. Jumping from topic to topic, his mind was beginning to spin, but it came to a screeching halt once the focus landed on him. 
“So, military, huh?” you asked. Your fingers lazily stirred your straw around in your drink. It was your second one, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the bartender might have made it a tad too strong for you to handle. 
Simon nodded, his own hands wrapped around a plastic cup. You had insisted that he at least drink a bit of water, which he hadn’t done at all. The ice had long since melted in the cup, and the condensation had made a puddle on the counter. 
“What’s that like?” you questioned further, your body pushing further into the counter as you tried to keep his attention. 
He gave you a dull shrug. “It’s work.” 
A slight pout appeared on your lips as you let go of your straw. “Oh, come on. It’s gotta be more interesting than that!” Before you could complain any further, you quickly snapped your fingers, a slight grin appearing on your face. “Wait, I get it! You can’t tell me because you work on high priority missions. Like secret agent shit, right?”
It took everything in him to hold back a slight chuckle at your childish dreaming. “Something like that.” 
Leaning forward, your lips wrapped around your straw as you drew in a deep sip of your drink. The sugary liquid coated your tongue in an almost sickening way. You knew if you drank much more, it would make you sick, not exactly from the alcohol but just from how sweet it was. Still, you forced it down your throat before leaning your head against your hand. 
“Must be neat,” you said in awe. “Despite all the military stuff, anyway. I bet you get to travel the world and see so many neat things. I’d kill for an opportunity like that… no pun intended.” 
Your bluntness caught him off guard, so much so it brought a grumbling chuckle tearing out of his throat. The very sound of it caused you to grin; grin even wider than you ever had before. His eyes flickered to your lips, reveling in the way they curled upwards, almost as if proud of yourself. As if you had been trying to get him to laugh for ages (which you might have been). Yet he couldn’t help but focus slightly on the corner of your lip and that bit of raised scar tissue that was so faint you couldn’t really see it unless you knew what you were looking for. 
“You should probably make that drink your last one for the night,” he said, his hands crinkling his plastic cup. “Don’t think I can stand your shitty puns much longer.” 
You laughed a little as you looked down at your drink. It was nearly empty, and slightly watered down at that point due to the melted ice. Everything felt warm, somewhat because of the alcohol, and somewhat because of your knitted sweater. 
“Right, of course. I forgot the bad jokes were your thing. Didn’t mean to steal your thunder or anything,” you teased. 
After that, you quickly sipped up the rest of the drink before setting it back on the counter with a dull thunk. Things had only gotten more crowded as the night drew on, and he found whatever social battery he had quickly being drained because of it. 
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you said softly, head returning to lean against your hand as you looked up at him. Even sitting next to him he was still so much bigger than you. “Honestly, I thought you were going to say no. Doesn’t really seem like your type of place so… just know I appreciate it.” 
What gave that impression? His tense shoulders? Or his eyes flickering around the room at least twenty times every minute like he was constantly on edge? 
“Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. 
You smiled something soft, something fleeting as your eyes dropped down to look at his hands clasped around the cup of water. He hadn’t taken a single sip of it the entire time the two of you sat there. Not that you had expected him to, anyway. Certainly not with that mask of his. Maybe some time in the future you’d ask him about it, but that moment wasn’t the right time. 
“I’ll probably be headed out, then,” you said, pushing your empty glass towards the bartender who swiped it away almost instantly. “I’ll just make a quick stop by the bathroom. You can head out now if you don’t want to stick around.” 
He sat there for a moment in thought. Mind wandering to the faded bruises that had once littered your body, your wrist, your cheek. How blood dribbled down your chin in a crimson river, nearly staining your pristine blouse. And for a moment he couldn’t remember when that image of you started to plague him worse than that of the death and gore he had seen out in the field. 
“I’ll wait,” he said after deliberating. And then, “sure you don’t need a ride?” 
“No, I’ll be alright. I walked here,” you assured him as you slid out of your seat. 
Somehow that was worse. 
You slipped away before he could protest that idea, and he grumbled as he pushed his cup of water towards the end of the bar. Shitty music filled his ears as he sat there waiting for you, and without your voice to drown out the commotion around him, it consumed him. Sharp crack of the billiard balls crashing together, the scent of greasy pub pizza, the ringing of a bell as the door opened, the chilling October breeze bleeding into the building, the stale scent of cigarettes. 
A new loud, and frankly irritating, voice filled the bar, and it was so grating Simon found himself twisting in his seat to see the idiot for himself. He was a tall man, shorter than him but still enough to stick out in the crowd. By the looks of it he had already pregamed pretty hard before showing up, but other than being annoying, there was no reason for Simon to concern himself with the man. 
So he turned back around, taking his dark gaze off of the man as he continued to sit there, waiting for you. Which was taking much longer than he had expected. Perhaps you had broken the seal and all the alcohol you had consumed was passing straight through you. Either way, he would wait all night if he had to. He had decided there was no way in hell he was going to allow you to walk home alone from a pub. 
That’s when he heard your name. It felt odd hearing it come from such an ear-aching voice, and he couldn’t help but snap his head back over to the annoying patron that had caught his attention previously. 
And that’s when he saw you, face flushed from the alcohol, standing hardly a few steps away from the bathrooms with wide eyes. He knew that expression well. It was something he saw a lot. On his mothers face when his father returned home from a night of drinking. On the face of an enemy he stood above, ready to deal the final blow. On his own face when he looked in the mirror as a child. 
“Don’t talk to me.” Even over the dull drum of the music he could hear your voice. Despite how shaky you sounded, it was still surprisingly strong. But not strong enough to ward off the patron. 
“Come on, don’t be like that,” the man pushed, his words slurring as he attempted to saunter closer to you. “I missed you, you know that?”
Before you knew it his hand was wrapped around your wrist and the stench of alcohol was hot on his breath as it fanned across your face. It sent Simon’s stomach twisting almost painfully, so painfully that he stood from his seat, boots thumping as they marched across the bar floor. 
Then came the sound of flesh crashing against flesh as the palm of your hand slapped the man across the face. It was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the surrounding area, including the bartender who looked like he was one bad comment away from dialing 999. 
“Get your fucking hands off of me,” you seethed.
Unfortunately for you, the slap hardly seemed to phase him, and his grip only tightened. The man’s jaw set taut as his other hand came up and grabbed your waist with bruising force, drawing you closer to him as he bared his teeth in a snarling grin. 
“You fucking minx.” 
It was disgusting. The very sight of that man with his hands on you like he had won a prize. Greedy fingers digging into your flesh like he planned to take, and take, and take. Simon had seen it all before. Seen it in his own flesh as unwanted hands clawed at him. Felt it on his face in the form of a vile, wet tongue swiping around his mouth. It was in the screams he couldn’t hold back as the hook tore through his flesh. It was in the blood that spilled down his body as he hung there while they laughed. It was in the maggots that he sat in as he was buried alive. It was-
It was the pain he felt in his hand as his knuckles collided with the man’s jaw, snapping his head to an uncomfortable angle. In an instant his body went rigid and then limp. Those revolting hands fell away from you as his body collided with the floor beneath him, and the only sound he was able to make was a fit of air leaving his lungs upon impact. 
Everything fell silent except for the sound of that terrible, incessant music that blared over the speakers. All Simon could do for a moment was stare down at the man as the lights slowly flickered back on in his head, a low groan bubbling in his throat as his hands pawed at his surely aching jaw. 
Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he quickly turned his head where he found you rubbing at your wrist. Yarn from your knitted sweater stuck out of the edge of your sleeve at odd angles, having been tugged on too violently to hold together properly. He saw the tears prickling the edge of your eyes, and that was the last straw for him. 
Simon led you out of the pub after tossing some cash the bartender's way, leaving that shitty music and that asshole far behind the two of you. He walked you home just like he told himself he would, and a long stretch of silence sat between the two of you until you reached your front door. 
It wasn’t until he helped you inside that you noticed his split knuckles. In a way, it reminded you of the way your lip had split with that tiny, vertical cut. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest, and yet you practically begged him to let you clean him up. Something that he begrudgingly obliged to. 
As you led him into your living room, he tried to ignore the fist shaped hole in the wall by the entrance, and the discarded lamp on the counter that looked like someone had attempted to glue the shattered glass back together. He let you sit him down on the couch while you disappeared off into the bathroom to retrieve any first-aid items that you had stored away. 
Blood soaked into the swab you used to dab away at the wounds on his knuckles, cleaning it with a little bit of rubbing alcohol. It caught him off guard just how gentle you were with him; with the hands that had just knocked the lights out of someone. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second as you held his hand, working with the diligence of a surgeon cutting someone open. And maybe in a way you were; cutting him open, looking at the soft parts of him that he hid behind his mask. 
It wasn’t until after you put a few Hello Kitty band-aids over his knuckles that you explained just who that man was. He was your ex, and he was responsible for almost all the damage that had been done in your life. The hole in your wall, the bruises that had littered your collar bone, the broken lamp, your split lip. 
Never before had he been so glad to harm someone. Any other time it was a necessity. Saving himself. Saving a comrade. Nothing that he ever took pleasure or joy in. It was just work. But that? Hurting that man the way he did? He took joy in that.
When it came time for him to leave, you walked him to the door, your head feeling fuzzy from the mix of alcohol and from the anxiety that had held your chest in a vice grip for the last hour. As Simon ducked out of the doorway, you couldn’t help but smile slightly. 
“See you next week, Simon.” 
That was the moment that he decided he liked the way his name sounded when you said it. You never barked it like an order, or screamed it in anger. He had hated his name for a long while, hated being called anything other than his callsign for work. But when it came from your lips, well, maybe it wasn’t all that terrible. 
“Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. The band-aids pulled awkwardly at his skin as he paused on the porch of your apartment. “See you next week.” 
He vanished off into the night and you shut and locked the door behind him before returning to the living room to clean up the mess you made patching him up. All you could think about while you cleaned up the blood soaked cotton was the tone of his voice, and the fact that you don’t think you had ever heard him say a farewell like that to you, if at all. 
The very same thought plagued his mind as he made his way back to the pub where he had parked his car. His tone had even caught himself off guard. It was almost as if he was making a promise to you. Maybe he was. 
A huff of air pushed through his nostrils, mask muffling the sound as he shook his head at himself. Fingers flexed in his pockets and he ignored the slight sting of the freshly broken skin. 
It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all. And though Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises, he didn’t think he’d find himself making promises so soon to the only soft spot that had grown in his life.
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wangxianficfinder · 2 months
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In the mood for...
May 10th
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1. Hello! I have an ITMF request when you have the time. I was recently thinking about the fic, "Heaven Has No Rage" by flipfloppandas and I particularly like how it developed the relationship between WWX and YZY. Do you/the community know of any other fics where she is able to reconcile her role as his mother by going through something difficult with him? Thank you! @balleyboley
some things go forward by everythingispoetry (T, 73k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hospitals, Teenage Drama, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending)
🔒❤️ the thing with feathers by RoseThorne  (G, 43k,wangxian, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Fear, Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Sexual Tension, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect)
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2. for the next itmf: are there any fics where wangxian just enlope and leave everyone behind to deal with it? where there are actual, something that makes the characters actually feel the, im not sure if this is the right word, consequences of an enlopement? or that wangxian just gave up making other people accept their love and just do what they want? like they don't care that they don't have approval.
i have seem many fics where they say that they want to get married expecting the disapproval of everyone, and magically no one has anything against it or at least not the characters that matter, or the ones that are against it are won over. the enlopement are usually used as a last resource not actually needed
thinking about everyone's book canon characterization, does anyone know a fic that resembles what anything about what im talking about?
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3. Howdy! Wondering if you had any pirate or siren au would love any especially longer completed works thank you mods!!!!
luminous by azuresummer (E, 50k, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Modern, Merpeople, A/B/O, Dark LXC, Dark LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Crime Boss LWJ, Omega WWX, Siren WWX, Merperson WWX, Hurt WWX, WWX Whump, Precious WWX, Spoiled WWX, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Nesting, Scenting, Power Imbalance, Obsession, Kidnapping, Organized Crime, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Excessive Amounts of Tenderness, Pining LWJ, Dark WangXian)
The Ocean Between Us by catbrainedschemes (M, 41k, WangXian, Modern AU, Historical, Reincarnation, Inspired by K-Drama | Korean Drama, legend of the blue sea, Fairy Tale, Fluff, Pining, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Childhood Sweethearts, Siren!wwx, Human!LWJ, Romantic Comedy, star-crossed lovers, Past LWJ/others (brief mentions), Slow Burn, Angst, Finding each other again)
💖 oceans, drowned in starfire by stiltonbasket (T, 30k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, modern, novelist LWJ, merman WWX, accidental baby acquisation, family secrets, domestic fluff, happy ending)
melt away (in your arms) by saccharinings (M, 32k, WangXian, Siren WWX, Prince LWJ, Fluff, Inspired by Legend of the Blue Sea (TV), The Little Mermaid Fusion, Mermaid WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Amnesia, with a twist ;), Hopeful Ending)
In Whispers, In Songs, In Silence by JessicaMDawn (T, 20k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & LWJ, Sirens, Siren WWX, Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canonical Character Death, but not as many as canon, Sign Language, WWX is a Good Guy, Creature Fic, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)
🔒 He's a Pirate by GrimmShadows (T, 23k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Pirate AU, Siren WWX, King WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending)
🔒 Secrets of Yunmeng's Lotus Lakes by Cy_an_Blue (M, 73k, WangXian, one-sided SS/WWX, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Mermaid WWX, Cultivator LWJ, Younger WWX, Younger LWJ, teenage WWX, teenage LWJ, No War AU, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Awkwardness, Injury Recovery, Injury, Blood and Injury, accidental injury, Accidental Stabbing, Cultivation Accidents, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, waterborne abyss, Kidnapping, Non-Explicit Torture, Mentions of major injury, People are evil, people are greedy bastards, Fluff, Attempted Sexual Assault, SS being ick, Courtship, Courting Rituals)
The Treasure of Maroon Bay by fenaly (M, 30k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Pirates, Fantasy, Romance, pirate captain LWJ, merman WWX, first encounters, minor character death in the subplot, mentions of magical things)
Still Waters by WiseDawn13 (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern, Merpeople, POV WWX, Human WWX, Merman LWJ, Light Angst, wangxian's parents are alive and well, speedrun, WWX is Loved, Chaotic Bisexual WWX, LWJ is a Confident Gay, Happy Ending, Art Embedded, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, what you doing out here with all this cock? double dicked up on a thursday afternoon, merji has two dicks, Double Penetration in One Hole, Anal Sex, wangxian are horny and in love, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Implied Switch WangXian)
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4. Do you know a fic where with we have a lot of friendship moment between Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang and where Huaisang is a protective friend (and a Wangxian shipper)?
Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh)
A Future Family In A Broken Past by Hauntcats (T, 121k, wangxian, WWX & Wen Remnants, Jiang Family & WWX, WQ/MM, JYL/NHS, LXC/NMJ, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, WWX Needs a Hug, Family Dynamics, What is a good family?, Fear of emotions does not excuse abuse, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel fix-it, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, LXC needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Not YZY Friendly)
Hold on to the reason that you stayed series by tawaen (M, 63k, WN & WQ, WN & MXY, WN & WWX & WQ, WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Eventual WAngXian, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn't kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ, Discussion of Golden Core Reveal, Anti-reconciliation, Outsider POV on Jiāng dynamics, POV NHS, Martial God WWX)
I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 51k, WIP, WangXian, Lan protective team, Time Travel, Past, LWJ oriented, Arranged Marriage, Boys In Love, Soulmates, Fix-It, Jiang siblings, not jiang parents friendly, Soft LWJ, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX)
🔒 like mayflies wandering series by RoseThorne (E, 21k, NHS & WWX, WangXian, Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Ghosts, Reconciliation, Exhaustion, Pining, Pre-WangXian, Pining, Feelings Realization, Illnesses, ennui, Found Family, Porn Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative NHS, Memories, WWX Needs a Hug, Post-Canon, Pining WWX, Friendship, NHS is a Little Shit, Qi Deviation, Resentful Energy, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Triggers, Fainting, Anal Sex, Getting Together, Love) ConfessionsGrief/Mourning
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5. Do you know stories where Wei Wuxian's parents are not dead but send into the future so they arrive after the events of the canon and try to find their son?
The Return of Cangse Sanren by milesofheart (T, 52k, WIP, WangXian, CSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, CSR & WCZ Live, Angst with a happy ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Burial Mounds days, BAMF CSR)
An Inch of Grass, and All The Sunshine of Spring by ChilianXianzi (T, 1k, WIP, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR & LWJ & WCZ, canon divergence, time travel, grief/mourning, parent-child relationship, found family, fluff & angst)
The Long Winding Road Homeby Admiranda (T, 13k, CSSR/WCZ, wangxian, flash forwards, Time Travel, Post canon, WWX’s parents come to post canon mdzs, not for JC fans, fluffy family reunions, mocking LQR to his face, mocking JC to his face, wild rumors abound)
Wei Changze's weird day by Weiyingbestboy (Not Rated, 1k, WangXian, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, WangXian babies) this is actually the opposite if you're interested! WWX + juniors appear in the past and freak Wei Changze the fuck out
The lark and the willow by Mhalachai (G, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Time Travel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chief Cultivator LWJ, More parental issues than you can shake a stick at, make time travel have consequences you cowards, yunmeng bros reconciliation)
Love you always, in any form you come in by YumichanHamano (G, 7k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Time Travel, Fluff, happy birthday wei wuxian!, he can have his parents back as a treat :) )
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6. I would like to find a fic where Jin Ling learns more about his parents death because the boy didn't have had a accurate version in his life and he want to know the truth.
🧡 Vow by draechaeli (E, 216k, Canon Divergence, BeliefGod!WWX, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, minor male lactation, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con because JGS, Mentions Canon Typical Incest, Canon Typical Violence) Chapter 8 of Vow has Wei Wuxian's spirit tell Jin Ling the truth about how his parents died.
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7. Hey! Have you ever read a book which is reacting to the book or series but it has covered the part where the golden core reveal is done? All the other books in this type are WIPs even before covering half of the book and never reaching that part T^T
💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not rated, 279k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, watching the series, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, CQL Verse, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF NHS, check chapters for specific warnings)
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8. Hi! Itmf LXC takes care of WWX, not just in a sick fic sense, but also as a good gege, supportive brother that doesn’t have anger issues, caring brother in law looking out for his chaotic didi @vi-sky
🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 803k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) long af, LXC is pretty supportive in this
💖🔒 Hoards and treasuresby  apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the   best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and   not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) supportive in a slightly dark way but still supportive
how a smiling homeless child melted jade hearts and got a home by anxiouswreck0_0 (T, 41k, wangxian, canon divergence, lan WWX, childhood friends to fiances, fluff & angst, fix-it of sorts, character death, possessive LWJ, dark LXC) WWX grows up in the Lan sect, mother hen LXC
🔒 Unstoppable by Netrixie (T, 149k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Wolf-shifter WWX, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Fix-It, Werewolf, Shapeshifters) love the brother/brother-in-law relationship in this series - in another part, WWX is the protective brother for LXC
A Fortuitous Bad Encounter by VividestList (E, 26k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, mild dubcon mentioned, in that WWX thinks that he used his heat to get LWJ to have sex with him, but we all know that’s a lie and he just can’t take a hint, LWJ was drunk tho, but that dubcon was also canon, mentions of mpreg, Mpreg, Misunderstandings, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Kid Fic, Dirty Talk, Possessive Sex, possessive LWJ, Riding, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Hair Pulling, Breeding Kink) LXC supports WWX when he gets pregnant and keeps the secret for him
there are pieces of you, of us by MusicPlotter (T, 4k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, Canonical Character Death, Minor Canon Divergence, They don't get eloped, That's it, Angst, Fluff, LXC Is A Good Brother, WWX Deserves The World) LXC looks at chaotic WWX and says "that's a free didi"
I Made My Choice and It Was You by merakily (G, 10k, WangXian, LXC& WWX, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, PTSD, Nightmares, In-Laws, Post-Canon, Family Bonding) post canon bonding
I'll Protect That Pretty Smile by legendlanzhan (T, 16k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, WIP, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff, Some angst, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, No Sunshot Campaign, Good Uncle LQR, Good Sibling LXC, WWX is a lan, LQR finds WWX a week after his parents die and brings him to the cloud recesses, LQR is trying his best actually, LXC is the best big brother, every single lan loves WWX bc that's what he deserves, WWX and LWJ get to make lots of friends! not even JZX is off the table!, head disciples WWX and LWJ) incomplete, but LQR finds WWX before JFM, good older brother LXC
Nursery Rhymes by manaika (M, 96k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Inexperienced WWX, Experienced LWJ, Reconciliation, Budding Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Unreliable Narrator, Medical Inaccuracies, Slow Burn, Past Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Found Family, Past Injury, Nurse! WWX, Doctor! LXC, Teacher! LWJ, Character With A Heart Condition (Major), Past Incarceration (Major Character), Underage Character With Leukemia (Minor)) wonderful friendship/found family relationship btwn WWX and LXC
Please Let Me Take Care of You by incidentallyWangxian (G, 9k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Sexual Assault, ish, kinda assault, drugged WWX, big brother LXC, Nightmares, the horrifying ordeal of being known, Modern, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Hurt WWX, crying WWX) WWX gets roofied, LXC comes to pick him up
🔒 Calling out for justice by marhikit (Not Rated, 10k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, QHJ & WWX, WIP, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Family Friendly, canon JC characteristic) LXC uncovers scars/abuse WWX has suffered
O Moon, My Midnight Lover by stiltonbasket (G, 2k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, married wangxian, Introspection, Character Study, best bro-in-law LXC, Parenthood, Mild Angst, just a smidge yknow, Happy Ending, wangxian have babies, they are the cutest things) LXC and WWX bond while waiting for LWJ to come back from a night hunt
🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 91k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)
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9. I'm in a mood for a fic where a modern LWJ somehow ends up in the past, where he meets WWX (preferably if the modern day is no cultivation while the past does have cultivation, though that isn't a requirement.)
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10. hiiii itmf fics where wwx is very affectionate but lwj reacts rudely then misses it and grovels when wwx stops and/or starts hanging out with someone else. arranged marriage would be a nice plus! @nalalie
the river and the sea by sasamelons (T, 7k, WangXian, Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Mutual Pining)
much sweeter than by mellowflicker (T, 3k, WangXian, Royaltyish, Arranged Marriage, a little bit of, YLLZ WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending)
True Gold Fears No Fire by defractum (nyargles) (M, 69k, WIP, WangXian,  Royalty AU, Ancient China, Wuxia, Historical Inaccuracy, Arranged Marriage, Identity Porn, Mutual Pining, Emperor!LWJ, empress!wwx, Eventual Happy Ending, Misunderstandings)
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11. hi! itmf fic where lwj becomes a member of the jiang, either before or after wwx’s return; i’ve read Delight in Misery by njreseki but i’m interested in other takes on the idea!
The Price of Freedom by meyari (T, 32k, WangXian, JC/LWJ, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Post-War, Children In Danger, Past Rape/Non-con, Warning: Jin Guangshan, Physical Abuse, Chronic Pain, Canon-Typical Violence, seriously a lot of grief and loss, no resurrections (yet), Not LQR Friendly, Execution, excessive discipline, Platonic Relationships) note that the LWJ/JC tagged is actually platonic, this is JC POV, and there is significant Lan Sect-bashing
this blood in my mouth by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, Post-Canon, POV LXC)
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12. hi, thank you so much for this! i’ve wanted something just like this in other fandoms but never actually found one before! i’m in the mood for time travel fic, but with one of jiang cheng or wen qing as the time traveler, and with chengqing as one of the endgame ships alongside wangxian. thank you again!!!
For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, wangxian, JC & WWX; JC & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, Canonical Character Death, Mentions of Rape, not explicit but definitely referenced, Time Travel, Not Everyone Dies au, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, WWX/babie tendencies, WQ is a queen in any reality, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, WWX finds new ways to be oblivious, seriously it surprised even us)
Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It)
The Stranger Inside My Son by Mademoiselle_A (T, 65k, JC & YZY, JC & JFM, JC & WWX, JC & JL, JC & JYL, WangXian, JC & JGY, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, But from an outsider's POV, JC is So Done, JFM's A+ parenting, YZY's A+ Parenting, Both are not great but this is not a bashing fic, JC-centric, But from JFM's POV lol, POV Outsider)
💖 With Surgical Precision by metisket (T, 20k, WQ & WN, WQ & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Families of Choice, sibling bonding through murder)
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13. Itmf wangxian fics with wen ning? He feels such a background character in many fics, I want some wwx and wn together!! Their dynamic is so cute like, wy: " you there wen ning? " wn: " for you young master? Always"
Ps: I'm not asking them in a romantic sense
Pps: no moder fics please
break by justdoityoufucker (T, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LXC Critical, JC Critical, Canonical Character Death, Guānyīn Temple Scene, BAMF WN, Protective WN)
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14. Are there fics with actually head disciple wwx in action? Like not just mentioning but actually doing??
🔒 The Water's Right, It's Sinking In by GravityWinsAgain (T, 9k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, but the angst is all in lwj's head, seriously nothing outside of his own internalized panic is happening, LWJ visits lotus pier, And has a breakdown about it, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, da-shixiong wwx, Repressed lwj, But they figure it out in the end, Happy Ending, lwj has emotions and is not pleased, Location: Lotus Pier)
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15. Please find fics where wwx is a very influential person across the cultivation world, not post canon, but when everyone (EVRYONE) is alive . Thankyou.
Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 39k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s disciple)
Debts of a Child series by Hauntcats (M, 115k, WangXian, dark, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters.)
Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 42k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JZX & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, protective Jiang siblings, Unreliable Narrator, due to WWX assuming ppl hate him, JYL is gonna dropkick her baby bro into having friends)
Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 166k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious)
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16. Hii! There was this itmf post where someone asked for inventor wwx! Can you please find the post? I've scrolled down for like 5 times already but I can't find it , please help
Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, WangXian, WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, Tagged just in case because there is no redemption arc here, What if WWX saw the first siege of the burial mounds and said Nope to the war, Original Character(s), OC point-of-view for one chapter for plot reasons)
In My Defence, I Have None (For Never Leaving Well Enough Alone) by SemiLocalCryptid (T, 73k, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Established Relationship, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, POV NHS, but only for the first chapter, POV Alternating, between Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi for the rest, WWX may have no sense of self preservation but he does have a husband, No one touches LWJ’s husband, NHS has no more fucks to give and will save his brother just watch him, WN is very confused about needing to breathe again, but is ultimately happy about it, BAMF WN, WN needs a hug, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, WQ is a queen and everyone should fear her, Fluff, Inventor WWX, Gratuitous amounts of Wangxian fluff)
🧡 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There) by H_Belle (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern Cultivators, Inventor WWX, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, YLLZ WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining LWJ, POV WWX, Background Wangxian Getting Together, Jiangs are only mentioned in the passing, inspired by a tumblr post)
🧡🔒Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 178k, WangXian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)
There's An App For Everything by Sweetlittlevampire (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, Rivals to Lovers, Friends To Lovers, Competition, Demon fighting, Getting Together, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Night Hunts, Wangxian x Caves is the real ship here, Happy Ending, puns, Humour)
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17. Hi! 🤗
This is for the ITMF. Lately I've been looking for some good time travel fix it fics.
A) WWX, LWJ or both traveling together to the past.
B) The juniors travel to the past and fix everything. (WWX protecting squad would be awesome!).
Long fics would be appreciated. Happy Endings, please.
Thanks for everything! 🥰💕 @wangxiansgirl
17A)
A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 70 k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) Dark!LWJ travels into the past
A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Time, Pining while fucking, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Angst with a Happy Ending, CQL Verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes) Is 700,193 words long enough? ;)
Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)
Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Time Travel, Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Explicit Descriptions of Love, and other squishy feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending) Both WWX & LWJ time travel in this one
Here With Me ‘verse Series by iamwish (T/G, 80k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, wwx turns this into a no war!au, Canon-Typical Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bad Parent YZY, POV WWX, POV LWJ, POV JC, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Has PTSD, and also depression sometimes, Unreliable Narrator, Character Death, Blood and Gore, BAMF WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, there’s some elements of, Grief/Mourning, Character Study, POV JYL, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death)
Family by Quiet_crash (G, 57k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, LXC & WWX, JYL & LWJ, Time Travel Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Established Relationship)
The Wild Geese’s Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, WangXian, Time Travel AU, fixit, Temporary Character Death, all women live no women die, LWJ’s canonically intense feelings about everything all the time, WWX’s clinical depression gets treated and blamed on resentful energy, navigating gay marriage in ancient china by utiliizing class snobbery for your own ends, if you’re not sure whose fault anything going on in here is then blaming NHS is probably a good bet, WWX plays ‘summon LWJ’ it’s super effective!, the ‘unexploded cow’ approach to dealing with your enemies)
Time and Time Again by Jammingjackelopes (M, 115k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Husbands, Established Relationship, Temporary Character Death, BAMF LWJ, Consensual Kink, Domestic Fluff)
17B)
Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor)
❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)
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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***
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Chapters: 27/64 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Triss Merigold, Lambert/Macee (Original Character), past jaskier/valdo marx Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher), Triss Merigold, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Vesemir (The Witcher), Macee (Original Character), Aiden (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biker AU, Geraskier, Triskel, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, family by choice, Found Family, dnd, Fiber Arts, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Major Character Injury, Disabled Character, Jaskier Has a Physical Disability, Physical Disability, Chronic Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Aftermath of Violence, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Financial Issues, Financially Poor Jaskier | Dandelion, Food Insecurities, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Poverty, Angst with a Happy Ending Series: Part 1 of Take Me Back (To the Night We Met) Summary:
"Witcher business?” Eskel asks, recognizing the fury burning in Geralt's eyes, the one that stemmed from innocents being hurt by monsters who deemed themselves men. Technically it is in that Valdo will be blacklisted but the rage, the want to show him how monsters are dealt with isn’t. It would never be sanctioned, should never be. “Valdo Marx is blacklisted. Every chapter to be notified. He’s not welcome here, better for him if he doesn’t make it through the doors,” Geralt’s words are calm, but it’s the danger that lurks in the spaces between. Lambert looks over his shoulder at Eskel as he shifts to the side, keeping an eye on Geralt. This was broad strokes measures, actions with repercussions that couldn’t be easily undone. We all know the story of how the White Wolf saved the Songbird, but this, dear reader, isn't that story. This is the tale of how it would have gone should the White Wolf find out long after blood has been spilled that someone else ensured the Songbird lived to sing another day. This is how the Songbird gains an army of Wolves to bring the monster to justice all while learning he's just as strong with a damaged wing.
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Prof. Xiao-Long AU Concept
Note this one is way longer since it did in fact win the polls
Yang Xiao freaking Long was just what her name would suggest XL, bigger then life, the center of attention and life of the party! She was arguably the toughest gal to step through Beacon’s doors. At worst she was tied with her partner Glyn.
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They were the strongest duo, Glynda’s ability to bullshit just about everything with her telekinesis and Yang packing enough raw strength to shatter boulders with just a punch. Heck, they were the two time Vytal Festival Winners of Beacon’s Golden era, Even STRQ came second to them.
And that team had her brother Taiyang in it, okay, true it did have the clearance sell, looking knock off of her too, Raven definitely dragged them down… No, she was not pissed at the bandit at all, nope, not a single inch of rage for abandoning her team, leaving her brother broken hearted, she totally didn’t spend months tracking her down and wrecking every member of the Branwen tribe’s shit that she could.
Well regardless she’d gotten over that who issue with her brother’s team, graduated, spent a few years living the dream, journeying around Remnant, helping people, exploring, just outright enjoying freedom. Life had been good. But eventually she got bored of it, bored of it, turns out Yang wasn’t for the lone wanderer shtick, didn’t live up to the hype…
It got lonely, and then her brothers wife died… Summer, Summer disappeared and Tai went into a depression. him remaining teammate Qrow tried, but he could only do so much, and she knew he was avoiding spending a lot of time with them cuz of his semblance the idiot. So she made her decision without hesitation, Yang starting crashing at her brother’s place and helping him with Ruby while beating the depression outta him.
And thankfully Glyn had a job she could work, a Professor at Beacon, she tried to get one at Signal but in her partner’s own words ��That School already has to Suffer One Xiao-Long, why would you curse them with two.” And hence begun her domestic life as the stand-in mom for her adorable silver-eyed niece. And Yang realized she was freaking Maternal has all hell! Like Whoa, the amount of times people assumed she was Rube’s mom was scary, and not just cuz it implied she was banging her brother.
And hey, she was a pretty great teacher too, sure she was really more a couch, and every once in a blue mom stand in for Port but hey when she did the students were a heck of a lot more invested in her telling them about her past glory. It had nothing to do with her love of high cut tee’s she swore, she was just that charismatic.
Life was good…
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LIFE WAS NOT GOOD!!!! She Was Gonna Murder Thos Little Turds! Few Things were as precious to Yang as her hair, and they, her students had abused her trust! She could understand a pulling pranks, heck she still pulled them on her fellow teachers. But The Fuck! CUT SOMEONE HAIR WHEN THEY SLEPT!!!
Beacon was starting up in several weeks! And she was gonna have to show her face now! With her hair like this!
Oh She Wasn’t Fooled For A Fucking Second!!!
This Had Bitch Written All Over It! It had to be those girls who’d been giving her the stink eyed just cuz the boys she taught couldn’t pull their eyes off their bombshell of a teacher! Or Maybe it was one of those douchebag students she put in their place when she caught them claiming they’d bed her.
The fact of the matter was she didn’t technically have concrete evidence of who it was, all she did know was when she went to bed she was fine and when she woke up she felt horrifyingly light. Her beautiful locks of golden magnificent hair scattered across the ground. All she saw after that was red, too bad her partner was there otherwise she could’ve slaughtered the perpetrator, true she would’ve ended up killing a few innocent students, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, and were they really innocent if they just sat there and let such a tragedy happen!
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They were lucky her partner Glynda was there to restrain her with several dozen times gravity being forced down upon her. And now here she was in Vale, already on her fourth group of A-Grade assholes clobbered for trying to pick up a red-eyed and incredibly pissed off Yang.
She stopped before it, a salon, one Ozpin had recommended, and one whose life and current state of function was on the line. Because if even an inch more of her remaining beautiful hair was ruined there would be hell to pay.
On the plus side they all seemed to know who she was, a negative is that that also meant every stylist was hesitant to do said firey dragon’s hair. She couldn’t blame them but if someone didn’t hike up their skirt and do something soon she’d-
“Ma’am, th-this way please, our new hire offered to do you hair.” Her eye twitched, a new hire, what the hell, she was ready to tear into him before a voice cut in.
“Hey can you calm down please, your kinda scaring everyone.” She blinked before looking up and meeting eyes with a fellow blonde. A guy around her student’s age, one who was standing up, facing her down with a stern look.
Your scaring the kids her with their parents, she noticed that in fact he was right as she saw some kids looking at her and backing away. And… She suddenly felt terrible. And when she went lack she heard it, a relieved exhale leave her fellow blonde, looking his way she met the boy’s gaze and felt a bit embarrassed.  Leave it to her to go and get worked up and have a kid around her niece age tell her off.
The boy examined her, or to be more precise her hair and she saw his eyes narrow with recognition.
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“Prank gone wrong?” She growled.
“No, I think it went just how those little shits wanted it to.” He blinked before shaking his head.
“Well then guess they could count their lucky stars they didn’t do that to a sister of mine or they wouldn’t live to regret it.” That made her smile.
“Oh trust me, I intend to do just that.” The blonde chuckled, shaking his head.
“Well hopefully not with your hair like that you won’t, kinda hard to instill fear in them while their laughing at the result of their prank. C’mon, let’s fix that.” Turning her made his way to a chair, expecting her to follow as he walked confidently to it. She blinked again, well, the new guy was definitely interesting, few people had it in them to sass her while her hair was so much as touched let alone ruined like this.
“Hey you just gonna stand there and gawk or do you want me to fix your hair.” She couldn’t help it, nobody talked about touching her hair.
“If you mess it up I’ll mess you up blondie.” Instead of the usual whimper or retreat the blonde boy… smiled?
“’Snort’ You sound just like my sis Beryl, relax, I have experience with styling long, blonde fine hair okay, your in good hands.” She rose brow, but slowly started to make her way to him. Noticing a picture of a boy and seven girls stuck up in his station.
“Whoa, is that you with all your cousins or something?” He laughed.
“Sisters actually, and I’ve done each of their hairs more times then I can count.” Okay, she was willing to risk it, at the very least the kid had experience. So she plopped herself down and let him do his magic… Okay so she might’ve had to stop herself once or twice from decking him when he touched her hair.
But hey his small talk took her mind off it, heck she only threatened him once when he pulled out the clippers. The boy seemed totally in his element. They talked about tons while he worked his magic, washing, shampooing and clipping her hair.
Eventually she begun asking how long he’d been doing this, she was surprised when he admitted this was his third and last week at the place. Something about needing extra money and having picked up several jobs before he hopefully got into his dream school. She couldn’t get much more details outta him, the boy was very cagey about it.
Finally thought he moment of truth came out and she saw… A pretty good looking cut, a bit shooter then what she’d come in with but not bad. In fact she was sorta digging it! Huh? Who’d’ve thought she could pull off a short due just as epically as she could a long one.
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She grinned the boys way, walked up to him and gave him a full on huge, lifting the blonde up in the air as she did. And suddenly he went from her confident sassy groomer to a flustered, confused mess of a teen as socially awkward as her own niece.
It was honestly kinda endearing, guess he was the sort who just got in the zone when it came to doing their job. Well not like she was gonna complain he was so freaking expressive now it was actually kinda hilarious not to mention a bit adorable. She teased him once or twice, and got the boy to fluster pretty bad before she gave him a big fat tip that hit the triple digits. Hey her hair was a treasure, he earned it in her not so humble opinion.
And so she walked out and made her way back to Beacon, all smiles and snark as usual, much to her fellow staffs relief… Until the next day. Where she realized she couldn’t style her hair the exact way the guy had! Made sense, she never had short hair after all!
She made a mad dash back to that salon… Only to find out he wasn’t working there anymore… WHAT!? She had to all but threaten the boy’s name outta the manager! Yes! She threatened a civilian, but this was important! And she got exactly what she needed, a name.
Jaune Arc.
She rushed to Juniors, needing to use Vale’s best info broker to find out the single most important information in the entire kingdom… Why the hell did he go on about Torchwick and White Fang when she said that. Obviously the info she meant was on the blonde stylist!
He blinked at her, and then asked about the name again… Then went pale. And then called Jaune over, apparently one of the jobs he was working also happened to be here as a bartender. One look at her and he flustered going all red face… Yeah, she did dress up, she was in a club after all, had to look good. Glad to see she still had it, not that it was ever up for debate.
Anyways she had him now, made her demand had him promise to teach her how to do her hair, and until then would have him do it. She’d pay him obviously, she wasn’t a monster, and a guy who could actually style her glorious hair was worth his weight in gold.
He told her she’d have to wait till his break, she was about to drag him off as her waiting simply wasn’t a option, until he offered to give her a free drink, a thanks for the huge tip she gave him yesterday. Well, she was already in Vale so why not… And again he shocked her!
Seriously what had she been drinking up until this point? Cuz it sure as hell wasn’t a Strawberry Sunsrise compared to the one he served her. She was about to ask, but he seemed to pick up on her question and gave the answer of ‘Seven sisters’ which just sorta answered it, guess a few of them liked drinks.
And he was back to being mister focused on his craft, sassy and cool as a cucumber… She just had to mess with him. Wasn’t hard, just a little shake here, a suggestive pun there and a wink or two and the boy went cherry red.
It was the best time she had out in a good minute, and then slowly, things started to relax and she fell into that age old troupe of shooting the breeze her the bartender. Talking about her brother and niece who’d get into Beacon this year and how freaking proud of her she was.
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It was great, fun, and she was… tipsy, so maybe when his break came around she chose to drag him to the dance floor for some fun instead of out to do her hair… And once again he surprised her with another skill of his. Jaune Arc, could dance.
He even dared suggest he was better then her… the nerve. She had to prove to him wrong, she just had to. So they spent his whole break dancing, drinking, laughing and just having fun, and one stink eye from her and Junior let her new young buddy take the rest of the night off.
And then everything went dark and she woke up in a bed, naked… Oh no.
Then she realized thank Oum there was no blonde boy right by her, instead her Scroll had a message, saying how he’d taken her to one of junior’s rooms to rest after she’d gotten wasted. And how he swore he left the room when she started to strip…
Yeah, that sounded like her when she got three sheets to the wind, he also sent her a message about how to do her hair. She asked Junior about the blonde but the guy insisted he was just a temporary hire.
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Well, it was time her baby niece’s first day was upon them! It took everything she had not to charge up grab little ruby up in a huge and completely embarrass her in front of everyone of her potential classmates.
Yang might’ve been wary of Ozpin when he first suggested it but still, she was aiming to enjoy this, to watch her niece, thrive in Beacon, to make a name for herself and have the best experience she cou- And she exploded…
Then some little white haired bitch started hounding her niece! She readied to walk up there and clobber the uppity brat. But before she could the spoiled brat left when some other goth looking chick got in the way. The black themed kid left too, leaving her poor niece all alone looking miserable!
She readied to make way only for the last person she expected to show up.
“Jaune?”
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-0-0-0-
She stood with Ozzy and Glyn watching things go down in the emerald forest, watching her niece having the misfortune of teaming up with the bratty Schnee. But there was also someone else who interested her, Jaune Arc, AKA her personal stylist, bartender and clubbing escort to be the next four years of Beacon.
What could she say, the kid was a man of many talents that she very much appreciated. She’d looked his files over, and yep… Guy had fake transcripts, so that’s why he needed all that extra scratch. Still though, considering they had a ex-terrorist in their roster this year she couldn’t view it too negatively, heck Qrow had been a freaking bandit.
Also, the kid really wanted this, I mean guy let Ozzy launch him into the forest… without aura! Yeah that was a shocker, the fact the kid was even willing to fight Grimm with having aura much less knowing what it was spoke volumes to his bravery, stupidity too yes, but mostly bravery. And hey, when the cereal girl herself unlocked it turned out he had a bunch.
Yep this year was shaping up to be a interesting one.
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Glynda didn’t know what to think of how Yang was acting, given she rarely knew what to do when it came to said brawler, but moreso today the usual, Yang was acting quite perplexing, well more then usual. Focusing on miss Rose she could understand, the woman all but raised the silver-eyed warrior after all. But her interest also seemed to focus on a second individual as well.
Mister Arc, a student she still had doubts about, but who also seemed to gain her partners attention, she sighed for the poor student. She didn’t wish her partner’s teasing on anyone, much less a seemingly easy to fluster first year like him.
Oh well, she supposed sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, a happy or at the very least entertained Xiao-Long mean much less collateral damage for the school and free time for herself. Perhaps she could offer him a bit of favoritism for such a burden, he did have a lot of aura, she supposed she could give him advise on control of it, he’d need it in case her partner ever tried to spare with the poor thing after all.
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Okay, this was not good, Yang had not expected Jaune to be in Beacon, much less for him to befriend her precious niece and be such good friends with her… What was this kid? He could, do hair, make drinks, dance and could even be a reliable man when the chips were down if him turning back to help against the Deathstalker was any indication.
Seriously, the kid didn’t even have aura for a full hour and yet he turned to face a grimm most huntsman would think twice about facing much less potential first years. And all for some strangers… Yep she didn’t care if his transcripts were real or not, Jaune earned his place in the school with that bit of bravery there.
She nearly laughed when he was declared leader of his team, not cause it was funny, kid was the obvious choose, he was quick the decide, enact and didn’t hesitate. Hell, he had no actual training and yet when the chips were down he lead three people he didn’t even know the name of into battle.
Ozpin would have to be blind not to pick him, at the after party she made her way right to him ready to tease him to high heaven. But instead caught him talking to one of his sisters, well her her wife and… And. AND THE MOST ADORBLE THING SHE’D SEEN SINCE BABY RUBY!!!
Apparently, it was his nephew Adrian! So yeah she sorta cut in and got involved, talked to his sister, baby talked his cute nephew and informed said sister that her little brother was on the fast track to being a kick butt huntsman. What? you didn’t it so many checkmarks with her and not get a few benefits for it. Yang Xiao-Long was the kinda teacher who definitely played favorites, and Jaune Arc was certainly one of them.
-0-0-0-
Yang did not know what to do… Well, that wasn’t true, she knew exactly what she wanted to do, or to be more specific… Who.
How had it come to this!? Seriously, she just didn’t know what to do… Okay, maybe she should back up a sec and explain. So she, Yang Xiao-Long, Huntress extraordinaire, hottest teacher in Beacon (Okay… Maybe Glynda and her were tied) was lowkey crushing on one of her students…
No! It was not Blake! She didn’t get why Port assumed that? Nope, she had found herself thinking of and gioving extra attention to Jaune, yep, Jaune, mister fake it till he made it. HE JUST CHECKED OFF ALL THE THINGS SHE WAS LOOKING FOR IN A GUY!!!
Yeah, she was surprised too, as it turned out, you didn’t need to be a huge giant of muscles like Yatsuhashi or that transfer student Sage. Nope, lean was good too, maybe not Lie Ren lean but a nice in-between. And Jaune Arc hit that sweet spot, heck he was decently built even before Beacon, it was just more like a farmboy than a actual knight. But now, ‘heh’ Yang very much approved his teammate Nora’s insistence on weightlifting.
He was blonde! Which yeah maybe that wasn’t strictly necessary for him to catch her eyes but it didn’t hurt. He got along with her niece, heck he was her first friend in Beacon. And he was brave, something she knew when he turned back to help his team against that Deathstalker during his Initiation.
He proved it again though about a month later when he saved Cardin Winchester against a Ursa Major, now that said a lot about him. While his team ran for their lives Jaune stood his ground and fought to save his bully… the threatened him to not mess with his friends… Yeah, that was when she realized he was on her radar.
More then that he checked off things she didn’t even know she was looking for a guy, he was good with hair (though not his own if that mop of blonde was any indication), dancing drinks, And Oh My God Cooking! The Boy Could Cook! Again Thank Oum For His Sisters and Mom For Forcing Him To Learn Those Glorious Glorious Domestic Skills! But More Then That thank Mama Arc for giving him that ass!
And she was perving on Jaune again… Great. Ugh she needed to settle this already, heck she wasn’t even able to hide it anymore. The Staff totally made fun of her over it even!
But like, she didn’t wanna be all weird, plus the blonde liked the little icy no tit princess, and she was in a mood again… Was she really jealous of a teenager who was built like a ironing board… Yes, yes she was and that more then anything else infuriated her.
Heck he was on a team with Pyrrha-Obvious-Nikos! At least Yang could accept losing to the spartan! Okay… Maybe lose was a bit much. After all if she went for it she would nab that blonde up in a second. So why didn’t she?
Cause, cause she was a teacher… Y-yeah, that was it, totally not because she had cold feet, and never been in a relationship that lasted more then a weekend… Gods Dammit.
And then she stumbled upon it, Jaune and her partner training, Glynda had taken a shine to Jaune, not at first, her partner was pretty peeved about the whole Transcripts thing. But after a few weeks her favorite student (Ruby being the exception) had used his Arc charm on her.
Glyn was a bit softy underneath all that stern strictness of her’s. Wait? Was she… checking him out? Yep, Glyn was focusing pretty hard on her blonde Himbo’s ass… And she was touching him! WAIT WHAT!? Glyn Didn’t Touch People, She didn’t need to with her semblance! Why Would She… OH THAT BITCH!!!
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That’s right Glynda had been benefiting from Jaune’s talents as much as she was, actually he was also helping her with paperwork apparently (something about paying her back for the aura control lessons) NO NO NOOO!
She was not losing Jaune To Her Partner and the stick up her ass! Yang never thought of herself as the jealous type but here she was, going into her room and grabbing some of her risqué clothes… Yeah they were pretty old, she at least went up to cup sizes since she last wore this to… Perfect.
Now all she needed was a night to alter them, thank Oum she was used to sewing cause of Ruby. And she was ready, and as she stepped into class, ready to teach unashamed and with a cocky smile on her face she looked to her mark. Jaune Arc much like the other boys in her class was staring just like she wanted him to.
Yep, Yang Xiao-Long might’ve been scared of screwing up, of causing issues for Jaune or more importantly Beacon and the moral implications of a teacher screwing her student, but that all came second, because more then that she refused to lose to anyone. And now that Glynda might be in the competition she wasn’t gonna hold back.
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kkami-writes · 1 year
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waiting for us ― a skz social media au.
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pairing. OT8 x fem!reader synopsis. At age 16 you either get your soul mark (in the form of your soulmates name somewhere on your body) or you become a blank, someone who doesn't have a soulmate. You've long lost any semblance of hope or comfort in the magic of soulmates, despite the fact that you have 8 of them. genre. soulmate!au, college!au, social media!au + written parts, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut cw. swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos, skz should be in horny jail, eventual smut (MDNI), domestic abuse, sexual assault/harassment, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal tendencies/thoughts, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, male x male relationships (skz are soulmates), polyamory, kms/kys jokes, mentions of homophobia + transphobia, lots of written parts, reader is really bad at feelings, ulzzang pics (this is more so to focus on the fashion), appearance of junhao, yeji and hyunjin are siblings, more to be added status: ongoing! / taglist: CLOSED! send an ask or sign up here to be on the waitlist wanna support my work? consider buying me a coffee.
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yn's accounts | the boys chapter one. go to horny jail chapter two. sus chapter three. welcome home cheater chapter four. you come here often? chapter five. sk8er boi chapter six. just a coincidence chapter seven. soulmate tingle chapter eight. down bad chapter nine. avoidance chapter ten. feminine urges chapter eleven. the whole circus chapter twelve. fairy boy chapter thirteen. apologies chapter fourteen. simp behavior chapter fifteen. not slick chapter sixteen. scooby doo chapter seventeen. screwed over chapter eighteen. back off hoe chapter nineteen. the gig chapter twenty. the plan™ chapter twenty one. yn chapter twenty two. a chance chapter twenty three. good morning chapter twenty four. totally subtle chapter twenty five. opening up chapter twenty six. howls moving castle chapter twenty seven. a deal chapter twenty eight. girls daye chapter twenty nine. girl dinner chapter thirty. the clit chapter thirty one. knight in shining armor chapter thirty two. masterpieces chapter thirty three. #NPP chapter thirty four. beach episode chapter thirty five. in the rain chapter thirty six. rumours chapter thirty seven. laser tag chapter thirty eight. cat cafe chapter thirty nine. bruises chapter fourty. sunrise
waiting for us masterlist part 2!!!!
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