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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years ago

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not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.)

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not.

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look," you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him. First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions.

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him.

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

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personasintro · 3 years ago

Note

I've been so out of the loop with this blog but this is something that i wanted to say based on few asks i scrolled past. This is probably what some of you need to hear and the latter part is going to be something i want mimi to listen to. (Mimi i promise this is not going to be ominous)

Some of you anons sound so entitled sometimes. The only one who has any control on whats happening with who in mh is mimi, the author. I believe she has said it already, but she's already decided on an ending. No amount of whining and tantrums will change that. Mimi is writing mh for everyone's entertainment, including hers. Mh is a FREE story. Just stick along for the rollercoasteride instead of nitpicking this and that and this should happen and that should happen. If you don't like where the story is going, then drop it. I promise you you won't lose any sleep about it, given the fact that you have a life behind wattpad and tumblr.

Now to Mimi. I'm sure that i sound angrier than i actually am, but please continue working at your pace. You don't owe us shit. And keep enjoying writing your stories and flourishing. Don't listen to the anons trying to guilt trip you into spilling the ending or changing it. The most important thing here is that you enjoy what you do. You're a person with a job and obligations behind the screen, and I hope that this blog will always remain your safe haven no matter what. You sound like a wonderful person too, never forget that.

whenever this kind of message finds its way to my inbox, I always hesitate and wonder if I should publish it or not 🫣 only because I don’t want to cause any arguments but I feel like it wouldn’t be fair of me not to publish it. I guess people often thing that every ask I publish or give my response to automatically means I absolutely agree with it or that I share the same annoyance and anger (of course I’m talking more generally, not specifically about this message), I just feel like I want to put it out there because I got burned too many times by this kind of stuff.

I always say this and I’m sure not many readers even realize what they’re doing when they type a certain stuff, but I realize that sometimes when I don’t speak up, people never learn and I think it’s important to speak up… but I also like to avoid any confrontations because people get offended too easily (not that I care all the time but you know it)

thank you for having my back, it always makes me 🥺🥺 whenever I see readers speak up for me (and it doesn’t matter if I 100% identify myself with their opinion or not) but it’s nice to have readers who look out for me! so thank you!

to everyone; no matter what people say and how much they try to get spoilers out for me, the ending is planned and I’m not going to change it no matter what 🫂 I only hope everyone will enjoy it no matter what it is & you’d be able to look back and say “what a wild ride!” I know I’ve said this a few times by now but repetition is the mother of learning, right? 😅🫰

#ask

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jaehyunfirstlove · 4 years ago

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Pairing: idol!jaehyun x idol!f. reader

Special appearances: members of Itzy, members of 127

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: angry sex (jaehyun is a bit of an ass, sorry), unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple positions, overstimulation, spanking, choking

Word count: 3k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @mrg-jjh @keeach @the-universe-in-you-jjh @nootnoot-yoonoh @winniet @jaejoongiewifey-blog @iknowyuno @10chitaphrr @tamakikaname @ellethereal00 @michplusb (send me a message/ask if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: this was a request sent by a lovely anon, i’m so sorry that i got carried away with this lol (and i hope it was what you wanted! apologies to members of itzy :)

“Jaehyun, could you take a picture of us?”

You handed your phone to him, smiling sweetly as you took up position with your members in front of the heritage building. Both of your groups were on tour together, which you were elated about because you and Jaehyun were secretly dating, only that Jaehyun insisted on pretending to be mortal enemies whenever a camera was around. It was a good ploy, he had explained to you, it would throw people off and make them think that you hated each other.

Except that sometimes it worked too well.

He took your phone from you, smirking the entire time, an evil glint in his eye. You knew that look, but you could only smile woodenly as cameras were filming all around you. He took a few steps back, raised your phone up, and you and your members posed as you waited for him to take a picture.

“Smile!” he said, clicking away, but you noticed that two of his members had joined him, standing beside him and making funny faces. When he was done he showed the phone to them and they all laughed hysterically, before walking away to join the rest of the group. Jaehyun handed your phone back to you, a wide grin on his face, a camera trailing him.

“Hope you like them,” he shrugged, “they’re not my best work.”

You took your phone from him, scrolling through the pictures, your members crowding around you to see.

“Hey, those aren’t of us!” Lia pouted, as you scrolled through picture after picture of Jaehyun, Mark, and Winwin. He’d obviously taken selfies while pretending to take pictures of you and your members. You looked up at Jaehyun, his eyes practically dancing with mischief.

“Jaehyun,” you sighed exasperatedly, and it wasn’t for show. “I asked you to take pictures of us.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he jabbed you lightly in the shoulder, “it was just a joke.”

“Well it’s not funny! I wanted pictures with my friends!” you fought to keep your tone level, keenly aware of the staff holding up cameras to your faces.

“What’s the big deal, it’s just a picture,” he said lazily, “I’m sure you have a billion pictures of yourselves.”

“That’s not the point!” you shot back, and you could feel Yeji tugging at your arm. “I wanted a picture in front of this building!”

“Fine! Give me your phone back and I’ll take it!” he yelled back.

“I don’t trust you anymore! You’ll probably take more selfies of your pompous ass!”

Ryujin suddenly jumped in front of the cameras. “Okay, cut!” she yelled, waving her hands in front of the cameras nervously. The staff just chuckled, and as they walked away you could hear them saying the footage was perfect. Jaehyun smiled.

“Good job,” he leaned in and whispered to you, before he walked away to find his members.

You were left seething, your anger very real. Yeji patted you on the shoulder.

“Don’t let him get to you,” she said soothingly, “he’s obviously doing it to rile you up, and it’s working. Either that, or he has a crush on you.”

She winked at you and walked away, and suddenly you had a pang of guilt that you were keeping your relationship a secret from her. Lia was the only one who knew, as your roommate she had to keep your secrets.

“That worked well,” she said, coming up to you and putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Too well,” you grumbled.

---

“And this is where we get ready for the concert.”

You were filming with a staff member, showing them around the concert hall backstage. As you walked by a doorway, you saw Jaehyun standing in the room, talking to another member. But as soon as he noticed you, a camera trailing behind you, he suddenly grabbed a towel that was draped over a nearby chair and pulled it in front of him.

“What are you doing, Y/N?!” he feigned shock, “some of us aren’t decent!”

You panicked for a second, but you saw that he was fully clothed behind the towel. “Very funny, Jaehyun.” You rolled your eyes at him.

He just snickered, and you were about to walk away but the staff member lingered in the doorway, pointing the camera at Jaehyun, hinting to you to continue your conversation. You sighed and entered the room.

“So are you ready for the concert tonight?” you asked Jaehyun, putting on your best interviewer voice.

“I’m always ready, Y/N,” he said with ease, smiling sweetly at the camera so that his dimples came out. “How about you, hm? I heard an awful lot of noise coming from your hotel rooms last night, hope you weren’t up too late partying.” He furrowed his brows at you, feigning concern.

You felt the blood rising to your face. “We were not partying.” Again you tried to control your tone, remembering Yeji’s words, but he was really pushing your buttons.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” he said, putting a finger to his lips and winking at the camera.

“Jaehyun, I told you, we were not partying!” you knew you were raising your voice, but you really couldn’t help it. Behind the camera, you saw the staff member smiling.

“Whatever you were doing, I just hope it doesn’t compromise your performance, that’s all.” He shrugged, putting his in-ears in and adjusting his mic, as the staff signaled for his group to head up to the stage.

You wanted to scream but he just walked by you, saying some last words to the camera before he headed up to the stage.

---

You hadn’t had a lot of time to spend together as you had wanted, most of your time spent in practice and preparation for the concerts. Your free time never seemed to match up with his, and whenever you could see him there always seemed to be cameras around filming everything. It made you annoyed and frustrated, and by the time the tour was winding down your mood was downright foul.

It was the last night of the tour and you were in your room resting, when Lia burst in.

“I just saw Jaehyun downstairs in the cafe, and he was alone!” she pulled you by the arm, and you barely had a moment to put your shoes on. “Go!” she yelled, pushing you out the door.

You made your way down to the cafe, excited that you would be able to have some alone time with him, but then you wondered why he hadn’t told you he had some free time, so you could spend it together. You figured he must’ve had a good reason, and just shrugged it off. When you caught sight of him, sitting alone in a corner of the cafe, your heart did a flip. Excitedly you ran up to him and slipped into the seat opposite him. He looked up in surprise.

“Y/N?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you scolded him playfully, reaching to grab a piece of the croissant on his plate. He slapped your hand away.

“Because then you’d steal my food like that!” He looked at you with a stern face, and you thought he was joking, but his face didn’t change.

You rubbed your hand where he’d slapped it. “Jaehyun?”

“I didn’t invite you here, Y/N, don’t you have some partying to do or something?”

You were blindsided. Tears sprang to your eyes, your face feeling hot. “What- what are you talking about?”

He suddenly started motioning with eyes, looking to his right side repeatedly, and when you finally got the hint you looked over. There was a staff member at the next table, a camera pointed at the two of you. You had completely missed them when you first walked into the room.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” You slammed your hands down on the table. Jaehyun’s eyes widened, looking at the staff member out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t care, you’d had it.

“You can’t keep acting like a shithead just because there are cameras around!”

He looked affronted. “Me? Are you calling me a shithead?”

“You’re rude, and you’re mean, and you’re full of yourself!”

“Oh yeah? Well you’re a goddamn princess, and you need to learn how to take a joke!”

“I can take a joke, if it’s funny! And you’re not funny!”

“Well you’re not as hot as you think you are!”

You suddenly stood, your face burning up. “Why you-”

Jaehyun stood up too, signaling to the staff member to cut the camera. He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the cafe. “Come with me.”

---

The ride up the elevator was silent, Jaehyun never letting go of your arm. You were still seething, and once you got to your floor you tried to wrench your arm out of his grasp, but he held fast.

“Stop fighting,” he snarled, gripping your arm harder. You winced at the tightness of his grip, but could barely do anything about it with the way he was pulling you along.

“Let go of me!” you seethed, but you could barely catch your breath keeping up with his long strides. He didn’t answer you, just swiped his card to open the door to his room, dragging you in. Once the door closed behind you, you finally succeeded in pulling your arm free, giving him a hard shove.

“How dare you!” you started, your voice dripping with anger, “I’ve had it with you embarrassing me in front of the cameras!”

He towered over you, getting in your face, his eyes hard. “You need to get a sense of humor, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that!” you were furious, unable to think straight, “Don’t ever call me that again!”

“Or what?” he suddenly got closer, his nose almost touching yours, the faint scent of coffee on his breath. His body was almost right against yours so you involuntarily took a step back, right into the wall. He had you trapped, his arms coming up to cage you in. “What are you going to do about it?”

You wanted to shove him, kick him in the groin, run out of there, but instead you fisted your hands in his shirt and crashed your lips against his.

He kissed you hard, his lips unrelenting, your tongues and teeth clashing. You kissed him just as hard, channeling all of your anger and making him feel it. You pulled and grabbed at his shirt, and he pressed his body harder against you, shoving his knee between your legs.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he said, breaking the kiss to suck harshly on your neck.

“Fuck you,” was all you were able to get out, because he was rubbing his knee against your core, your panties getting wetter the more he moved.

“You’d fucking like that, wouldn’t you,” he growled, his hands going to your hips, fingers digging in.

“You wish,” you responded sarcastically, tugging at his shirt to get him to take it off. Once he pulled it off you rubbed your hands all over his chest and abs, but he suddenly grabbed your wrists, pinning your arms to the wall.

“Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head at you, “I don’t think so, sweetheart. You need to take your punishment.” He leaned forward to kiss you but you turned your head, anger bubbling up inside of you at the pet name. He just attacked your neck instead, sucking so hard on your skin it took your breath away, and you were instantly glad you didn’t have any more concerts because the make-up artists would have had a hell of a time trying to cover up the marks he was giving you.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” you said, trying not to moan but he’d gone back to rubbing your crotch with his knee. You bit your lip as he kept at it, but then he suddenly picked you up and carried you to the bed, dropping you on it before he stepped back and started taking off his pants.

“Take off your clothes,” his voice was low, commanding, leaving no room for debate. You decided not to make it easy for him.

“Fuck you.”

His eyes narrowed, his upper lip twitching. You smiled, but it was the wrong thing to do. Suddenly he was on top of you, his full weight pushing you down onto the bed. His hands seemed to be everywhere, under your shirt, over your bra, down your pants. The rough way he was handling you was so arousing that your breath was coming in short gasps, heat rising through your body.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he growled, leaving a trail of marks down your chest as he rubbed a nipple over the fabric of your bra. You were panting so hard you could barely breathe, but you knew exactly how you wanted this to go.

“Hard.”

He barely reacted to your answer, but you thought you could see a hint of a smirk on his face. He paused only briefly, catching your eye as if to say you could still stop this if you wanted to, but you didn’t move, just stared him down. In a flurry your clothes were practically being ripped off your body, and when he got to your panties, he actually did rip them, taking a hold of them and tearing them at the seam. When you were finally naked on the bed he pushed your knees apart and settled his face between your legs.

You couldn’t help but cry out, because he didn’t start off gentle, not that you were expecting him to. You were expecting him to be rough, but you got a lot more than you bargained for. He’d never eaten you out like this, like a crazed man, his tongue harsh against your folds, sucking and licking until you were a thrashing mess. You tugged at his hair but he still wouldn’t let up, adding his fingers and ramming them deep inside you while sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Oh god, oh Jae,” you moaned, delirious with arousal, your body tensing as your orgasm hit. He didn’t stop, overstimulating you until tears pricked your eyes and your knees wanted to close around him.

“Jae,” you whined, “fuck…” you didn’t know whether to beg him to stop or keep going, your fingers still entangled in his hair. Finally he pulled back, lips flushed, chin shiny with your juices. His eyes were hooded, hair mussed, and he was so unbelievably sexy in that moment you would’ve let him do anything he wanted with you. Yet you still didn’t want to make it easy for him.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he asked, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I’ve had better,” you replied in a bored tone. It was a lie, but it produced the desired effect. The look on his face darkened and he leaned over you menacingly.

“On your hands and knees.”

When you didn’t comply, just stared at him defiantly, he flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your ass up until you were on your hands and knees. He entered you without warning, but you were already so wet that he slid in easily. You whimpered at the stretch, your body still getting used to his size.

“I know you like this, sweetheart,” he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “I can hear it in your voice.”

Indeed you hadn’t stopped moaning since he’d started pounding into you, this position one of your favorites since he could hit so much deeper in it.

“Fuck…. you….” you could barely breathe, only managing to get out the words between his harsh thrusts.

Suddenly his hand landed on your ass with a resounding smack, and the impact of it went straight to your core, making your pussy clench.

“Hmm, you like that too I see,” he commented, and you could hear the astonished delight in his voice.

“Not at all,” you replied, fighting for a nonchalant tone, which was almost impossible with the way he was drilling his cock so deep and so hard into you. Another slap landed on your ass, followed by another, and another, and soon you were moaning so loud he had to stop for fear of getting a noise complaint.

“You’re a really bad liar, sweetheart,” he said, and you could hear the sly grin in his tone.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” you panted, but suddenly he grabbed your arms and pulled you up to him. Impossibly he quickened his pace, slamming into you so hard the room was filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping on skin.

“Don’t fucking test me,” he growled into your ear, and then he slid one hand up to your throat, the other one down to your clit.

You came with a scream stuck in your throat, as he constricted his hand around your neck, his fingers rubbing furiously at your clit. He fucked you through your orgasm, letting you go so that your upper body flopped back onto the bed. He pulled out, flipping you onto your back and throwing your legs over his shoulders as he entered you again. You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, seeing as he already had a smug look on his face. All you wanted was to wipe that self-satisfied look off his face so you pulled him down and kissed him, sticking your tongue down his throat until he was moaning into your mouth.

He came with a deep, guttural groan, the sound of it reverberating through you, triggering your own orgasm as he thrust deeply inside you one last time before his hips finally stilled. His lips never left yours, but the kiss softened, turned less heated, more tender, until he finally pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours, as you trailed your fingers up and down his back.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said, running his finger along your jaw.

“Fuck you,” you said, smiling.

The corners of his lips tugged up into a smile. “Watch it, sweetheart.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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cherryobx · 4 years ago

Text

I'm all yours//Rafe Cameron x reader

request: "Hii!! I love your writing! What if Rafe and Y/N have a fling, but he doesn’t make a move or show his motives, so she starts distancing herself from him. Later he finds out that she’s been going out with another guy (totally up to you to decide whether it’s obx character or fictional) and decides to have a conversation with her about what they are (he’s a liiitle too jealous and it makes her mad, but they work it out after a small fight). That’s it!! Hope you like it, have a great day🥰"

summary: Rafe realizes something when he hears that you're seeing someone

warnings: language, mentions of sex (but no smut!), FWB, angst

WC: 1.7k

(not my gif, creds to the owner!)

He was never there when you woke up. It was like a tradition at this point. He always left without you noticing. Of course, some mornings you wished that he’d stay a little longer and just hold you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But that was Rafe Cameron we’re talking about. It was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation. Although you wished it was something more. You’d never tell it to Rafe though. He’d just make fun of you for wanting something that was so out of your reach, something almost impossible.

After stretching a bit on your bed, you sat up and tried to rub the tiredness away from your eyes. Your eyes drifted to the alarm clock beside your bed. 7:32. Why had you woken up so early? You blamed it on the coldness of your bed and the sheets. After all it was just you in it.

You stood up, put on an oversized t-shirt and started picking up your clothes that had been scattered all over your bedroom the night before. You tossed them onto the bathroom floor and made a mental note to put them in the washing machine later.

Feeling your stomach grumble with hunger you walked into the kitchen and put two slices of bread into the toaster. You opened the fridge and took out the butter. Lately you had been obsessed with toast with butter. It was heavenly on mornings like these.

As soon as the toast was done, you spread some butter on them. You didn’t care enough to put them on a plate. Or you were just lazy. One of those reasons. As you were eating your toast, you scrolled on your phone, seeing all the pictures and videos from last night’s party. You had decided not to go and just stay home and watch a movie all by yourself. You actually treasured those moments. Rafe came over in the middle of the night and of course he was pretty hammered. You still slept with him though. How could you deny yourself such pleasure?

When you were finished eating, you sat on the living room couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. You felt pathetic, sad even. You were sorry for yourself. You had let Rafe crawl into your life, into your head, and now you couldn’t get him out. He was always on your mind.

“This has to stop,” you mumbled to yourself, as you took out your phone and texted the guy you had turned down a few days ago. He had asked you out but you declined because it felt wrong to go out with a guy that wasn’t Rafe. But now you realized that the smartest thing right now would be trying to forget about Rafe. He didn’t see you as nothing more than a friend, a hook-up.

He replied almost immediately which was a bit weird because it was 8 in the morning but you didn’t give it much thought. You agreed to go on a date with him in the evening.

As you were getting ready to go on the date, you got a text from Rafe, asking if he could come over tonight. You didn’t reply. It’s for the better, you thought.

The guy, Luke, picked you up at 7 p.m sharp and took you to out to eat. It was pretty romantic you were not going to lie.

“You’ve been living in Kildare your entire life? How have I not seen you before?” you asked before taking a bite of your food.

“It may be because I don’t really go to parties.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“You don’t? Then what do you do here? There’s really nothing to do here except parties and golf, if you ask me.”

“Well, mostly I just hang out with my friends, play golf, go fishing. You know, the usual stuff.”

“I’d get bored with that fast,” you laughed.

“Then what do you do here?” he asked.

“Umm, I go to parties, obviously, I’m not lame,” you said, sarcastically rolling your eyes. “But sometimes I surf.”

“You do? Isn’t that like a pogue thing?”

“So, sport is now a pogue thing? Yeah, I don’t label things like that. The whole pogue vs kook things is just pointless in my opinion.”

“If you say so.” He took a sip of his drink.

After dinner, you walked down to the beach and just took a stroll there. It was a beautiful sunset and you even took some pictures with him to remember that night.

“I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for not turning me down like I did you.” He had just brought you home and walked up to your front door.

“No problem. Who am I to say no to such a pretty girl.” The compliment made you blush.

“Also, thank you for paying tonight. I promise I’ll pay next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“Yes. I mean if you want to.”

“I do.”

“Then it’s settled.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before entering your home and closing the door behind you. You were actually happy with how this whole thing turned out. You hadn’t thought about Rafe even once this whole evening.

When you stopped answering to Rafe’s texts and calls, he became confused. What was going on? Had he done something to upset you?

After a few weeks in the dark, he heard at one party that you were seeing someone. He felt this kind of tightness in his chest. It was a mix of emotions. Almost like anger but not really. He couldn’t put a finger on it why he felt like this. It was not like you were his girlfriend or anything. Although he liked the sound of that. Y/N, his girlfriend.

He left the party and came over to your place. He banged his fist on the door repeatedly. Je might’ve even woken up your neighbours with all the noise he was making.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night?” you asked, as you opened the door. You were wearing an old t-shirt and shorts. You looked adorable to him.

“Can we talk?”

“At 2 in the morning? No fucking way.” You started to close the door but he shoved his foot between the door and its frame.

“Y/N, please. I need to speak with you.”

“Then come back at a reasonable hour,” you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“This is a reasonable hour. Just let me in.”

You let out a sight but then opened the door for him. You walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water because your throat was feeling a bit dry. He followed you close behind.

“If you’re here for sex then you might as well just leave right now. I’m not in the mood.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I’m here just to talk to you?”

“You want an honest answer to that?” you asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Not really.”

You took a sip from your glass and then placed it on the kitchen counter. “If you’re really here to talk then talk. I want to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want you going out with that Luke you’ve been seeing.”

“How the fuck is that your business? I can go out with whoever I want. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I know what’s best for you.”

You bitterly laughed. “Oh, you do now? Rafe, you don’t know shit.”

“He’s not a good guy for you.”

“And you know that how? He treats me better than you ever have. And that’s a fact. Keep your nose out of my business and go find some other girl to fuck. This,” you waved your finger between you two, “is over. I don’t want to see you anymore. Like ever again. So you might as well delete my number.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” The frustration within you was too much to handle as tears started to fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

“Because I love you, for fucks sake,” he admitted, yelling.

You were staring at him in shock. You were speechless and didn’t know what to say. Was this like some sort of cruel prank he was playing on you? Or was he serious? Could it be? It was hard to believe. Why would he admit it now, after all this time?

“I didn’t realize it at first. I was so caught up in myself and my problems. But when I heard you were seeing someone, I freaked out. I didn’t like the feeling it gave me. I didn’t like the thought of you with someone else other than me. It didn’t seem right.”

He slowly walked closer to your, now sobbing, frame. He placed one of his hands on your shoulder and the other under you chin. He lifted it so you’d look him in the eye.

“If there’s a slight chance that you’re feeling like I do, please tell me. If not, I’ll leave right now and you’ll never have to even see me again.”

“I do,” you whispered, not being able to actually talk. Your emotions were overwhelming you as you broke down. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hand up and down on your back in a soothing manner.

“It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m here with you.”

You stood there for what felt like eternity, crying between his arms. When you had calmed down you pulled away a bit so you could look at him.

“You’re such an asshole. You know that, right?”

He nodded. He knew.

“But. I love you too. Always have been. I tried so hard to forget you. That’s why I started going out with Luke. So I could forget you for a couple of hours. And it worked. But as soon as I got home it was like he never existed. I thought about you. Only you.”

“Well, now I’m all yours.”

“That’s good to hear because I’m yours as well.”

***

FEEDBACK IS VERY APPRECIATED!

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron imagine #obx #rafe outer banks #outer banks #obx s2 #obx netflix

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years ago

Note

heeeey, in love with you, your writing and your blog 💖 Tbh I have read everything you have and I really in love with your writing. And I know that your request are close, but if you want could you write a Tom x reader where they have a fight and Tom has to leave a few days to promote his new movie and when he's back he sees like some of the reader's stuff are missing and thinks she left but in reality she's in another room couse she's awfully sick and doesn't want to get Tom sick too

Thank you so much anon!

Give Me a Minute to Hold My Girl

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom can’t find you after a bad fight

Masterlist

Tom was away a lot.

You knew traveling was a big part of his job, so you never did complain. That being said, it wasn’t easy having a boyfriend who was never around. All the missed birthdays, events, and art shows weighed on you after a while. You were more than proud of him, but you were growing lonely. He had a saying, something he said every time before he left you:

“Wherever I am, and wherever you are, we’re always looking at the same moon.”

And it used to assuage you. You’d go outside on nights he was away and stare at the moon, wishing he was looking at it where’ve he was. You knew it was never true though. He was rarely in the same time zone as you and was definitely not spending his precious time staring at the moon.

You couldn’t help it. You were miserable.

On a night where Tom came home three hours later than he said he would after being away for a week. He sent a short text alerting you that he’d be home late, therefore missing the art show he promised he’d be at after missing the last three. Upon reading the text just mere moments before your show, you decided your quota was filled. You couldn’t handle the lonely nights anymore. If he didn’t start shaping up, you were gonna have to start considering looking elsewhere for love. You loved Tom, but you had to love yourself more.

“Hi, babygirl.” Tom came behind you that night and wrapped his arms around your waist as you rinsed your brushes. He smelled like he had been using a new cologne, one you didn’t recognize. You stiffened a little in his embrace as you wiped off a brush.

“I thought you were gonna be home at 2.” You said quietly.

“Plans changed. Sorry I didn’t call.” He kissed the back of your neck with strangers lips.

“Do you remember what today was?” You asked for your own amusement.

“Oh uh…” Tom scratched the back of his head as he raked his brain. “Not your birthday.”

“No.” You confirmed with half hearted humor.

“Not our anniversary.” He continued.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Um…” he trailed off until his eyes landing on your paint brushes next to you. “Your art show. I totally forgot.” He rubbed his eyes. “It was today?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, never meeting his eyes.

“I knew it. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Tom took your hands and looked at you apologetically. “I got pulled into a meeting about Spider-Man 3 and it just slipped my mind.”

“It’s all right. I didn’t place or anything.” You shrugged, not wanting a fight. “You can come to the next one.”

“This was the one where you paint on the spot right? Can you paint me a new one while I get changed?” Tom suggested as he brushed some hair out of your face.

“Sure. Anything specific?” You asked, warming up to him now that he was showing an interest in you again. The fire you felt for him was burning once again.

“Paint how you feel. I’ll be back soon.” Tom kissed your forehead before leaving the room.

You put a blank canvas on your easel and squirt some dark paint on your palette. As you painted, you heard Tom shouting and cheering from the other room. You decided it wasn’t worth it to get angry at him for playing a video game, after all he did have a long day. You kept the painting simple and void of color so you could get back to spending time with your boyfriend. When you finished and felt happy with your work, you called him back.

“I’m done, Tom.” You called out to him.

“Just a second. I’m in the middle of a game.” He called back. After ten minutes had gone by and he still hadn’t come into the room, you decided to add another small detail to the background of the painting. Tom walked in shortly after with a different outfit and freshly showered. You gave him a small smile.

“I can clean up and we can grab some dinner.” You said as you collected the used brushes.

“I actually gotta go soon, honey. I have meeting in Manchester tonight.” Tom told you timidly. You stopped collecting your brushes and looked at him.

“But you just got home.” You said, not bothering to hide your disappointment.

“I thought I’d come back for an hour to see you.” He said as if was no big deal.

“And then you spent that hour playing video games with Tuwaine.” You pointed out in anger. You felt the fire fizzle out.

“He’s never on, I didn’t want to miss him.” Tom said light heartedly in an attempt to cheer you up. “He’s the best at 2K.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t really he was the best at 2k.” You said sarcastically. “How stupid of me to try to pull my boyfriend away from making virtual half court shots after I haven’t seen him in a week.”

“I haven’t seen him either.” Tom reminded you, only fueling your anger.

“But you gave your only free hour to him. When am I gonna get to see you, Tom? When you’re dead?” You questioned.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He held out his arms.

“Until your car pulls up.” You shot a look at his phone which you knew would be buzzing any minute.

“What do you want me to say?” Tom asked. “I work. I’m a working actor. People need me.”

“I need you.” You threw a sheet over your canvas and finished collecting your brushes, not wanting to look at him.

“I don’t know what to tell you, darling. I’m sorry. I can’t be everywhere at once.” He apologized. You shook your head before turning to face him.

“You spent last week in Mexico, Berlin, and Scotland. You’ve been to LA, Germany, and Vancouver this week. And now you’re off to Manchester? Do you mean you can’t be everywhere at once, or do you mean you can’t be anywhere I am?” You accused.

“I don’t pick where I go. If I have a meeting, I go. If I have a premier, I go. If I have to film, I go. It’s part of the job.” Tom defended himself.

“Chris wasn’t at the London premier.” You said quietly. You weren’t going to bring it up, but it felt warranted.

“What?” Tom asked at the random claim.

“Chris Pratt. He wasn’t at the London premier for Onward.” You told him.

“Okay?” Tom said in confusion.

“Do you know why?” You tested him.

“No.” Tom said after a minute of thinking.

“He was home with his family. He said his son started crying as he was leaving for his flight so he stayed. It was all over the news.” You told him. “Traveling is part of his job too, and yet he knows how to be there for his family. Why can’t you do the same?”

“Harry and Sam were there.” Tom pointed out.

“I don’t care about Harry and Sam!” You raised your voice. “I care about how the only time I get to see my boyfriend is when I’m scrolling through Instagram. Girls all over the world get to see you but the girl you swore you loved is lying at home in an empty bed. You can make time for millions of strangers but you can’t make time for me? Do you know how it feels every time you don’t answer my FaceTime calls but then you go on Instagram live? Do you have any idea how unhappy I’ve been?” You asked desperately.

“I have to tend to my fans, it’s a part-“ Tom began.

“Of the job, I know.” You cut him off as you stormed out of the room.

“What do you want me to do? Quit?” He laughed bitterly as he followed you into the living room.

“Would you?” You spun around.

“What?” Tom faltered.

“Would you give it all up for me?” You repeated lowly. “If I asked, and I wouldn’t, but it I did? Would you give up the money and stardom and power for me?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Tom sighed.

“Because I think I know the answer.” You said tearfully. You and Tom stared at each other for a long time. He could see how hurt you were and prepared to make amends.

“I love you.” He said meekly.

“Don’t give me that.” You shook your head and looked up at the ceiling.

“I do.” He said firmly but you didn’t answer. “What do you want me to give you, then?”

“A reason to stay, maybe?” You shrugged sadly as tears fell down your cheeks. “I’m seeing nothing but a lifetime of loneliness ahead of me because of your beloved job.”

“We love each other. Isn’t that enough of a reason?” Tom stepped closer to you but you backed away. His face fell at your indifference.

“I always thought it would be but…” you shrugged and pulled your sweater tighter around you.

“You wouldn’t leave.” Tom said starkly.

“I would if I had nothing to come back to.” You looked him in the eye. His eyes were red now too.

“I’m here. I’m what you have to come back to.” His voice wavered as he got to the point of tears.

“Tom, when are you ever here?” You laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “When have I ever had you to come back to you?”

“You think I like the traveling anymore than you do? I hate leaving you. I miss you like crazy when I’m away. It kills me to be apart.” He defended himself as he raised his voice.

“Oh, is that why you don’t answer my texts? Because being away from me killed you?” You asked sarcastically. “That makes total sense now. Although, I never really got the feeling you “missed me like crazy” when you were dodging my calls.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Tom apologized, knowing this wasn’t an argument he was going to win. “I’ll start coming home more, I promise.”

“Like you promised you’d come to my show?” You shot back, not yet ready to let him off easy.

“I just forgot! Am I not allowed to forget things?” Tom shouted.

“You have ten thousand assistants who revolve around you like you’re the sun and not one of them was there to remind you about my show?” You yelled. Tom quoted down when he realized you were right.

“Darling, I cannot deal with this right now.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Can we please talk about this tomorr-” he cut himself off with a sigh.

“What?” You asked bitterly.

“I won’t be here tomorrow. I have press in New York. I have a flight out of Manchester after the meeting tonight.” He told you with dad eyes. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot to tell you.”

“How convenient.” Your voice cracked. It was at the point where you were plenty used to the goodbyes, but this one felt final.

“I was gonna tell you, I swear. It just slipped my mind.” Tom apologized.

“That’s been happening a lot, hasn’t it?” You snapped.

“You know this is part of the job.” He said weakly, hating himself for having to give you such a lame excuse.

“I do know that.” You nodded. “What I didn’t know is that I was gonna live my life freezing to death in the shadow of your career!” You shouted.

“Then get a new life!” He shouted back, eyes immediately displaying regret. You tilted your head as tears streamed down your face.

“Do you mean that?” You asked quietly.

“Maybe I do.” Tom shrugged as he stared you coldly in the eye. His phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. “I have to go.”

“Good. Go.” You snapped. He went to the door but stopped and looked at you.

“You’re gonna be here when I get back, right?” He asked timidly.

“Would you even notice if I wasn’t?” You responded as you went to retreat into the bedroom.

“Darling, wait-“ Tom began to follow you but you stopped in your tracks.

“I don’t have anything left here to wait for.” You told him and you watched his heart break.

Tom opened his mouth to speak but his phone buzzed again. He looked at it and sighed as you wiped a tear.

“Go. Your car is waiting.” You said.

“I can’t leave you like this.” He mumbled as he typed something into his phone.

“Just leave. You know how.” You said bitterly. Tom looked up at you at your words. He was in a bad way. His nose was running and his eyes were bloodshot.

“I can cancel on the press. I can stay home-“ he said desperately.

“This is not a home! This is a prison!” You yelled. “I am chained to this one man cult we call a relationship. Please, just go! You have people waiting on you, people you clearly find more important than me. You need to leave, because I will never kick you out. Go on your press tour. Go to New York. Go do your precious “job” and meet your fans. Go stare at the fucking moon. I don’t care. Just leave.” You yelled until your voice was ragged.

“You’ll never find someone like me.” Tom warned, saying anything he could to get you to stay.

“I hope to God that’s true!” You screamed.

Tom took a step towards you, but his phone buzzed again. He wiped a tear off his cheek and nodded.

“I’ll be back in a week.” He swallowed.

“Good for you.” You said dismissively as you walked into the bedroom and slammed the door. He stared at the door for a long time, about to knock when he got yet another text telling him his car was there. He swallowed thickly, pressed a kiss to the outside of the door, and left without another word.

“I’m home.” Tom called into his home a week later.

He immediately felt the chill of your fight hitting him. When he didn’t hear a response from you, he shivered in his jacket, suddenly feeling like he was wearing somebody else’s clothes. He set his bag down timidly in the ground and looked around. The first thing he noticed was the lack of dishes in the sink. You weren’t one for cleaning up after yourself and Tom had grown accustomed to coming home to a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. You’d usually wash and dry them together before settling down on the couch to watch a movie. Tom felt fear prickle the back of his neck at the empty sink. There was no way you’d actually left, Tom told himself. You wouldn’t just up and go without a note or a call or a text. Not that Tom was very good at answering your calls and texts. Tom took another step into the house and glanced around the living room. Your favorite blanket was missing and the room looked like it hadn’t been touched since Tom left a week ago. Your pile of movies was no longer next to the TV and Tom began to feel sick.

“Y/n? I’m home.” He called out again. His voice bounced off the walls but didn’t get a reply. His palms began to sweat as he walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet. All of your coffee mugs were gone. There was an empty space in the middle of the cabinet where they used to be.

“Princess? Are you here?” Tom called out, desperately this time. When he was met with silence, he rushed into the bathroom. Tom washed his face with cold water and noticed your toothbrush was missing from the holder. He started at the vacant spot for a long tome before rushing into your shared bedroom. Upon entrance, he noticed your pillow missing. The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in all week, and Tom feared it hadn’t. He flung open your closet doors and noticed a large gap in your clothing. All your favorite T-shirts were gone. After rummaging through the drawers, Tom found that your leggings, bras, underwear and socks were all missing too. Tom sat on the bed and out a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs.

You’d done it. You’d left him.

While he spent the week with friends and fans, you spent the week packing up your life. Tom snapped his head up when he heard the doorbell ring.

“Babygirl?” He asked as he rushed to the front door. He swung it open, only to find his next door neighbor.

“Oh, hey Tom. Glad to see you’re back.” His elderly neighbor smiled at him.

“Hi Shane.” Tom said weakly.

“I wanted to see how Y/n was doing. She left kinda late Thursday’s night and I haven’t seen her since. Been about a week I think.” Shane informed Tom. He perked up at the mention of you.

“You saw her leaving?” Tom asked. “When was this again?”

“Thursday. Sped off in such a hurry, you’d think she was in a race.“ Shane laughed. Tom looked past Shane and noticed your car wasn’t in the driveway.

“Did she say where she was going?” Tom inquired.

“Oh, no. My wife and I only saw her leave. We were visiting our son all weekend and got worried when we got back and saw her car was still missing. I rang the doorbell a few times this week but there was never an answer.” Shane said and Tom felt like crying all over again. “When I saw that you had come back if figured I’d ask you. Is she okay?”

“I’m sorry Shane, I don’t know.” Tom answered honestly.

“She’s not home?” Shane asked.

“Uh, no.” Tom looked back in the house and then back at Shane. “Shes not home.”

“Do you think it’s serious? Has she ever done this before?” Shane wondered.

“No. Never.” Tom shook his head.

“Have you tried calling her? You two are always so cute, I thought for sure you’d know where she was.” Shane said worriedly. Tom bit his tongue to keep from crying.

“We had a fight before I left last week.” He admitted, feeling like he needed to tell anyone who would listen.

“Oh, did you?” Shane said sympathetically.

“A really bad one.” Tom continued as his voice weighed heavy with guilt.

“That’s okay. Every couple fights. My wife and I have been fighting for 52 years.” Shane tried to cheer him up.

“Shane,” Tom sniffled as he gathered his thoughts, “I don’t think Y/n is coming home anytime soon.”

“No?” Shane asked sadly.

“I think she might’ve left.” Tom said with a shaking voice. “Left me.”

“Oh, Thomas.” Shane nodded in understanding. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“I’m so sorry, will you excuse me?” Tom closed the door quickly before his neighbor could see his tears. He leaned against the door and slid down it as tears poured from his eyes. He sobbed into his hands for a moment until he noticed something. Your easel was standing in the middle of the living room with a sheet covering it. Tom got to his feet and carefully approached the easel. He soon reached it and pulled the sheet off. The canvas was a mirage of gray and white with a portrait of a woman crying. She was holding half of her own broken heart and cradling it to her chest. In the background, a faint silhouette of a man walking away with the other half of her broken heart trailing on a string behind him.

Toms words echoed in his mind from that night: “Paint how you feel.”

That’s how you felt. Heartbroken, abandoned, and tethered, all because of Tom. Tom ran his fingertips over the painting as if were a piece of you. He tilted his head and smiled at it fondly, always blown away at how talented you were, even when painting your lament.

He noticed another canvas leaning against the back wall, also covered in a sheet. He walked briskly to it and ripped the sheet off.

Underneath the off white sheet was a portrait of Tom himself sitting on the world. He had a crown on his head and a bright smile on his face. There were tiny, detailed fans and billboards with his name on either side of him. He was in a suit and had his hand clamped firmly around a the sun. You had painted with bright colors, colors of the sunset and the sky. Your words from the fight came back to him:

“You have ten thousand assistants who revolve around you like you’re the sun and not one of them was there to remind you about my show?”

On the other side of the globe sat a girl. Tom turned the portrait around and saw you. You were sitting alone, literally on the other aide of the world. Tom felt his heart break when he noticed you were staring off mournfully at the moon. On the top corner of the painting was a blue “first prize” ribbon. Tom distinctly remembered you telling him you didn’t place, despite you winning the entire competition.

That was enough for Tom. The tingling sensation started in his nose and he found himself able to see less and less of your painting as tears well up in his eyes. Body shaking sobs ripped through him as it finally sunk in that you had left him. He cried into his hands until he heard something coming from the guest bedroom.

A cough.

Tom almost thought he imagined it until he heard it again. Someone was coughing in the house. Tom scrambled to his feet and pressed an ear against the door. He heard silence for a while, then a sniffle. His heart pounded in his ears as he twisted the doorknob.

Tom opened the door slowly and heard a clanking from the floor. He looked down and saw a pile of your favorite coffee mugs, a few plates, and some bowls on the ground. He pushed them aside and fully stepped into the room. Sitting in the guest bed was a very pink-nosed and red-eyed you. You were lazily scrolling through your phone as you dabbed at your nose with a tissue. There was a bottle of bills and a bottle of cough medicine on the nightstand, as well as a sea of mugs. There was a garbage can next tot he bed with a mountain of tissues coming out as well as surrounding it. Tom felt like he was seeing a ghost and suddenly felt like a stranger in his own home. He looked around the room and saw all your missing clothes strewn around. You were wrapped in your favorite blanket and your pile of movies was next to a tub of ice cream by the TV. Tom blinked a few times in shock.

“Oh, you’re home.” You spoke and Tom snapped out of his daze. You didn’t sound angry, just congested.

“Y/n?” Tom whispered as if he spoke to loudly, you might disappear.

“Hi, Tommy.” You said sleepily as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you just get home?”

Tom watched your every movement as you scratched your head and reached for the cup of water next to the bed. He quickly got it before you did and handed it to you, taking a careful seat next to you on the bed. You gave him a grateful smile before downing the glass. You licked your dry lips a few times and sighed.

“Yeah. I just got in.” He said, never taking his eyes off you.

“I didn’t hear it. I’m on this medication that completely knocks me out. Oh, I’m sick, if you haven’t noticed.” You laughed sleepily. “I got the flu from one of my friends.”

“You’re sick? That’s why you’re in here?” Tom asked as hope burbled in his chest.

“I didn’t want to contaminate all your stuff.” You told him. “Can’t have you getting sick before Uncharted starts filming.” His heart warmed at the thought of you looking out for him even after the fight you had.

“Thank you, princess. I appreciate you looking out for me.” He told you sincerely.

“Uh oh.” You looked at him with a half smile. “You only call me “princess” when you’re really upset. What’s going on?”

Toms lip began to tremble at your words and you looked worried.

“Your toothbrush isn’t in the bathroom.” Was all he could find the strength to say.

“Yeah, because it was disgusting. I had to throw it out this morning.” You assured him.

“All your stuff is missing. Your clothes, movies, mugs.” Tom continued.

“Look around you.” You laughed again, gesturing to all your previously “missing” stuff.

“Shane is worried about you. He said you left Thursday and never came back.” Tom told you.

“Aw, is he? I drove to the hospital Thursday night because my fever was so high and the doctor made me stay overnight. I took an Uber back on Friday because I got sick in my car. Its at the shop getting cleaned until tomorrow. Would you tell him I’m okay?” You asked.

“Of course.” Tom nodded, feeling himself relax a little.

“Thank you.” You said. The room fell into an awkward silence. Tom toyed with what he needed to say in his head.

“I saw your paintings.” Tom spoke up.

“Oh.” You said causally, knowing the content of the paintings.

“You didn’t tell me you got first place.” He said softly.

“I didn’t want you to feel bad for missing it.” You admitted.

“Princess” ,Tom laughed sadly, “I feel terrible. I feel terrible about every thing. Every word I said to you, I regret it. I thought about you and our fight the entire time I was gone. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I was miserable without you. And when I came home today and all your stuff was gone…” Tom trailed off as he got emotional again. You pulled him to you chest and let him cry it out. “I thought you left. I thought you left me.”

“I would never leave you.” You promised.

“But our fight.” He cried.

“All couples fight. The ill-timing and stress didn’t help. But I’m not someone who just walks away. Especially not from something like this.” You assured him as you stroked his hair.

“I hurt you. I missed your show, I didn’t talk to you when I was home.” Tom listed off his mistakes. “I abandoned you.”

“It’s the job.” You laughed sadly.

“No. I’m not gonna let that be an excuse anymore.” Tom pulled his head off your chest and you wiped his eyes. “You deserve better. So, so much better. I’m sorry it took you almost leaving for me to realize how much I need you to stay.”

“I’m sorry about the fight.” You told him weakly. “I said some things I didn’t mean.”

“What didn’t you mean?” Tom asked as he gathered your hands in his and kissed them.

“I know I said there wasn’t nothing here for me to wait for, but there is. Of course you’re worth waiting for. You’re away a lot, and it sucks, but nothing compares to when you’re here. A few days with you is better than a lifetime with somebody else, I know it. It’s just hard to remember the good times when I’m sleeping alone every night.” You finally told him your feelings in a much calmer manner.

“Princess, I’m so sorry. This ends today. If someone needs a meeting with me, they can come to Kingston. I’m not gonna fly all over the globe to talk about movies for an a hour anymore when I could be at home with my beautiful girlfriend. You are so much more important than any job.” Tom promised you. “I didn’t answer you that night, and I honestly didn’t even know the answer, but now I do. I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for you, love. All the money and fame is nothing to me if I don’t have you.”

“Do you really mean that?” You asked him.

“I do. And I’m gonna prove it.” He swore. “I want you to come with me when I shoot Uncharted. And I want you there for the rest of my press tour. You can bring your easel and your brushes and paint all over the world.”

“Really?” You asked happily.

“Yes. People are gonna stop coming to see me and start coming to see you because you’re gonna be the most famous painter in the world.” Tom painted you a picture. “You have more talent than people could even dream of achieving. The world needs to see your work.”

“I’d love to come with you.” You told him with a smile.

“Then do it. We don’t ever have to be apart again. I can’t sleep if it’s not next to you anyway. We won’t have to look at the same moon anymore. I can just roll over and see you instead.” Tom cupped your face. “We’re gonna go to Berlin and Italy and Mexico, all the places you’ve wanted to see. You’re gonna see the prettiest sights and eat the greatest food and live the most wonderful life by my side. And we can go anywhere else you want to go too. Fuck it, baby, we’re going to the moon. Or mars. Wherever. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. That’s all I need.”

“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.” You told him as a happy tear rolled down your cheek. “I don’t want someone like you. I just want you.”

“I just want you, too.” He grinned as happy tears welled in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, baby.” You apologized for the fight.

“I’m sorry too.” Tom nodded tearfully as he reached forward to kiss you.

“I’m sick.” You reminded him as you pulled away slightly to dodge his kiss.

“I don’t care.” Tom shook his head as he pressed his lips to yours before pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’m never leaving you again. Just give me a minute to hold my girl.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning g @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @loveat2am @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @delicately-important-trash @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @kii-mii @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @vgiselle @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #iron man #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #onward

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whatiwillsay · 4 years ago

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submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB’s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me. but i am very emotional right now. i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience. ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support. have you been financially impacted by this? we can raise money. do you need therapy? we can help you find the support you need. this community is unequivocally here for you. whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will. you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this. i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened. this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do. this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.

#submission #tw: abuse #tw: homophobia

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writerofthecourt · 4 years ago

Text

the rhyme and reason for lying

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

summary: when you and your husband are called to your daughter’s school for a meeting with the principal, the last thing you were expecting to hear was that she had punched a classmate

warning: time skip spoilers

a/n: here you go, anon. this was a request from my 200 followers event. thank you to my followers for your continued support of this blog and my writing!

“Rin, can you please stop scrolling on your phone and help me clean up the house?” you asked with an annoyed glare from across the living room.

It was a calm Monday morning. The sky was clear, and the weather was beautiful. Today also happened to be a rare day off from volleyball practice for your husband, so you thought it would be a great idea for the two of you to get some chores done around the house. However, the prospect of getting Suna to even help you was beginning to seem more arduous than the actual chores themselves.

“Rin,” you repeated with an unmistakable tone of diminishing patience.

Picking up on your anger, Suna silently placed his phone on the coffee table and got up from the couch to go wash the dishes from today’s breakfast. After being married to you for so long, he knew when to stop testing your patience.

“That’s what I thought,” you said to yourself, a victorious smirk now plastered on your face.

Turning your attention back to the shelf that you were cleaning, you made sure not to knock over any of the framed photos that were in your way. There were a few photos from high school, family vacations, and your wedding day.

You paused to smile before you picked up a particularly lovely photo. It was from two summers ago at a tanabata festival. Dressed in matching yukatas and standing under the glow of various paper lanterns, you thought it was a perfect family photo.

Your reminiscing was soon cut short, as the house phone started to ring. Putting the photo back down, you went to answer the phone.

“Suna residence,” you greeted with practised ease. “Yes…oh, well…all right, we’ll be there soon. Yes, goodbye.”

“Who was it?” Suna questioned as he exited the kitchen, finished with his task of washing the dishes.

“It was Suzune’s school,” you replied with a worried expression on your face. “Apparently, she got into a fight?”

“What?” Suna asked, his eyes easily giving away his disbelief. “No way. Not our Suzune.”

“Yes, well, the principal wants to see us now,” you explained as you hurried to get your purse and put on your shoes.

After grabbing his phone and the car keys, Suna joined you at the genkan to also put on his shoes. “Did she at least win?”

“Not now, Rin,” you said with an exasperated sigh before turning away with a proud and subtle smile. “…But yeah, I think so.”

Suna only smirked. “Nice.”

As the two of you drove down to Suzune’s school, a thousand questions ran through your head. What could have possibly happened to set off your mild-mannered Suzune? For the most part, she was a calm and quiet child, similar to her father in many ways. Nevertheless, after arriving at the school, you and your husband found yourselves sitting in the principal’s office, signalling the end to your peaceful Monday morning.

“For starters, thank you for being here this morning,” the principal said as he addressed the three parents in the room. “Now, I assume you’ve all been made aware of the current situation, yes?”

“I heard Suzune got into a fight with one of her classmates?” you asked with great trepidation in voice, casting a glance to your sulking daughter who sat next to you. Suna, who sat on the opposite end of the office couch, tried his best to not look bored with the whole situation.

“I’m afraid so,” the principal gravely responded before he gestured for the other mother in the room to speak. “Yamada-san, if you will.”

“Please, call me Karin-san,” Karin said with an all too polite smile on her face. “Now, my Satoshi-kun said that your daughter had punched him for no good reason. Clearly, your daughter was in the wrong because my son would never do anything to provoke someone.”

“That’s wrong!” Suzune shouted angrily before pointing to the quiet Satoshi who sat next to his mother on the opposing couch. “He kept bothering me and making fun of my height!”

“Are you calling my son a liar?” Karin scoffed.

Suzune frowned before looking away. “No, but it wasn’t completely my fault.”

“So you did punch him!”

In the midst of this argument, you and Suna both exchanged looks of disbelief with one another. While you didn’t condone Suzune’s choice of violence, it was quite obvious to you and your husband that there was more to this story.

“All right, no more arguing,” the principal announced as he quickly tried to defuse the situation. “In any case, Kagami-sensei informed me that you did indeed punch Yamada-kun, so please just apologize, Suna-chan.”

“I refuse,” Suzune responded plainly.

Not liking this answer, Karin raised her nose to the air with a haughty huff. “Well, you’re going to have to apologize if you want this matter to be resolved, little missy. I could easily sue you if I wanted to.”

“Don’t sue them, mom,” Satoshi mumbled.

“Hush, Satoshi. She is the one who is clearly at fault here,” Karin maintained with an unbelievable level of smug confidence.

No longer having the patience to deal with this woman’s behaviour, Suna was the next one to speak up. “Weren’t you listening? There’s obviously a reason why Suzune punched your son. Maybe if you stopped throwing out blame left and right, we could actually resolve this problem in a timely manner.”

“Suna Rintarou-san, yes?” Karin asked with disinterest in her voice. “My husband is a big fan of you and your team.”

“Thanks,” Suna drawled out, making no effort to pretend as if he actually cared for the compliment.

“In any case, I would have to disagree with you,” Karin replied before she sent you a patronizing smile. “Perhaps if your wife did a better job at raising her child, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

The room fell silent as all of the other occupants inside the office stared at Karin in complete shock, unable to believe that she had said something so bold and uncalled for. You were about to shoot down her claims when your husband promptly stood up, his arms crossed as he glared down at the woman across from him.

“You apologize for that right now or else-”

“Or else what?” Karin challenged, immediately copying Suna’s defensive stance, crossed arms, and seething eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

You could do nothing but bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from swearing up a storm. If it weren’t for the current situation and anger that you felt towards Karin right now, you would have applauded her for being able to stand her ground against your professional athlete of a husband. She was strong-willed and unwavering in her determination, you’d give her that.

“Okay, it was my fault!” Satoshi proclaimed, fearfully staring at his mother and Suna. “It was my fault, so please stop fighting!”

“Satoshi? What are you talking about?” Karin asked in total surprise and bewilderment.

“I-I kept bothering Suna, so she punched me to make me go away,” Satoshi admitted. “I only told Kagami-sensei that she punched me first because I didn’t want to get in trouble…”

The room returned to silence once again. With the truth now revealed, Karin could only blink slowly before she realized her absolute mistake. Her face began to burn hot from all of the embarrassment and drama that she had stirred up, and while she was too busy trying to think of ways to save face, you and your husband only grinned in victory.

“I’m sorry for everything, Suna,” Satoshi quietly apologized.

“I accept your apology,” Suzune said with a smirk, only to stop once you gave a look that told her she also needed to apologize. “I-I’m sorry too. For punching you, I mean.”

With everything now resolved, the principal smiled, simply glad that a fight had not broken out in his office that day. “Well then, if there are no more problems, Yamada-kun and Suna-chan can go back to class. Thank you to both sets of parents for being here today. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“O-of course,” Karin answered nervously before both families quietly exited the principal’s office

Once out in the hallways, Satoshi turned around to happily chat with Suzune. “It’s almost lunchtime. Wanna play some volleyball later? My team could use your height.”

“Sure,” Suzune replied with a small grin, causing Satoshi to smile and look away with a faint blush on his face. Noticing this curious behaviour, you soon found yourself lightly chuckling as all of the puzzle pieces came together. It all made sense now.

After Suzune and Satoshi were dropped off at their classroom, you, Suna, and Karin all awkwardly walked together towards the entrance of the school. Clearing her throat, Karin stopped to look at you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Karin began mournfully. “It was ignorant and rude of me.”

“Yeah, it was,” Suna agreed harshly, making Karin flinch at his straightforward response.

You jabbed your husband in the ribs before you sent Karin a strained smile. “I accept your apology. I can understand why you were so protective.”

“T-thank you,” Karin said with a wobbly smile. “Well, I need to go buy some groceries for dinner tonight. It was, um, nice to meet you. Hopefully, our next encounter will be less…confrontational.”

Wishing Karin farewell, you and your husband silently made your way to the car. You couldn’t help but chuckle once again as you thought back to your new found discovery. It just made so much sense now.

Your husband gave you a strangle look as the both of you got into the car. “What’s so funny?”

“You mean you didn’t notice?” you asked with an amused raise of your eyebrow. “He obviously likes her.”

“Who?”

“Suzune and her classmate,” you clarified. “He likes her.”

Your answer only made Suna more confused. “I don’t see how you came to that conclusion.”

“Didn’t you hear Suzune? He kept bothering her, making fun of her height, and when she agreed to play volleyball with him, he blushed,” you said as you listed off your reasons out loud.

Your husband continued to flatly stare at you. “Yeah, so?”

“Well, if I remember correctly, there was a certain somebody back in high school who used to steal my lunches and bother me all the time because he had a crush on me and wanted to get my attention,” you explained. “Sound familiar to you?”

“I never did any of those things,” your husband defended with a frown. “I just asked you out like a normal person, remember?”

“I know. I was talking about Atsumu,” you casually threw out, causing Suna to freeze and stare at you in pure shock.

“What?! He never told me he liked you!”

“Well, it only lasted three days before I told him that I liked you,” you graced the corner of Suna’s mouth with a quick peck, “why are you even worried? I married you, didn’t I?”

Your husband made no effort to hide his blush, only starting up the car to drive back home. “Yeah, whatever…I need a nap. It’s only noon, and I’m already too tired for any of this.”

“Great! After your nap, you can help me with the chores. Right, honey?” you asked with a sickeningly sweet and innocent smile.

“Y-yes, dear.”

Later that day, in a totally different prefecture, Atsumu nervously approached his teammates with an uneasy smile on his face.

“Um, hypothetically speaking,” he began, looking to his teammates for help. “What does it mean when someone sends you a picture of a knife and tells you to stay away from their wife? Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

Bokuto and Hinata furrowed their eyebrows in confusion, while Sakusa simply shook his head.

“It means you’re going to die,” Sakusa answered bluntly.

“Maybe they sent it to the wrong person?” Bokuto suggested.

“Why do you ask, Atsumu-san?” Hinata inquired with a curious tilt of his head. “Did someone do that to you?”

“Of course not! Totally hypothetical,” Atsumu replied with a nervous laugh. Thinking back to Suna’s cryptic and ominous text from earlier, Atsumu reasoned that he would have to talk to his old teammate sometime soon, but perhaps not in person…

Yeah, definitely not in person.

fun fact: suzune’s name is written with the characters for ‘bell, sound’

#suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #renns200followersevent

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headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne · 4 years ago

Text

Lautrec Chain

Original Prompt: How Lautrec landed in that cell in the Undead Parish. We did it! Another chain is complete! A big thanks goes to all the amazing artists and writers who participated in this chain. Please check out their content and blogs.

@acebladespades

“A knight of Carim is nothing without his lady.”

He looked at the man behind the metal bars.

“You knew well what was expected from you.”

He took one step closer to the cell’s door.

“So why are you still alive?”

‐---‐-----------------------------

“I love you.”

His entire world came to a stop.

Fina’s voice echoed softly in his ear.

At first, Lautrec believed it was only a trick of his wishful mind. It wasn’t until he felt Fina’s arms resting on his chest, pulling him closer in a tender embrace, that he realized everything was true.

He closed his eyes and gently put his hands on top the golden arms of his cuirass.

“I love you too, my lady.”

“Then, when the time comes, you won’t hesitate?”

Lautrec couldn’t answer. He knew his silence angered his goddess, but the question had caught him off guard.

“I see.” Fina lifted her ethereal arms, leaving Lautrec alone with the metallic replicas of his armor. “Your ridiculous honor still means more to you than I, doesn’t it? How foolish I was to think that your love and devotion for me were real.”

“They are real.” Lautrec replied. “You know well you are my everything.”

“Lies. Your claims are nothing but honeyed and vacuous words. They are so typical of you mortals. If you truly loved me, you would have answered me instantly, without any trace of doubt in your voice; yet, all you gave me was silence. That’s not the way a knight should treat his lady, is it?”

“Of course not.” Lautrec smiled in a faint attempt to appease Fina’s temper.

Fina answered by resting her hands on his belly. At first, he mistook the gesture as a sign of forgiveness. His naïve perception changed when Fina dug her nails deep into his flesh and began clawing her way up to his shoulders.

The pain left Lautrec breathless. He fell to his knees, swallowing his screams and forcing himself to endure the punishment in silence.

Even if Fina’s nails did not make him bleed nor they left visible injuries on his skin, the agony they caused him was real.

Lautrec only dared to breathe again once Fina was done. The skin where she had touched him felt burning and tender, as if her ethereal nails had been covered in fire.

“If you wouldn’t treat a vulgar wench so rudely, what makes you can act with so much disdain toward your goddess?”

Lautrec didn’t answer. Fina didn’t gave him the chance, for as soon as she was done speaking, she embraced him again from behind.

The melted together, trapped in a blissful moment that Lautrec wished would never end.

“I love you.”

Lautrec could feel the brush of her breath against his ear even through his helmet.

“It pains me to hurt you like this, but you left me no choice. Please, my knight, do not make me do this ever again. All I ask from you is an answer.”

Guilt and regret kept Lautrec glued to the floor.

“So, I’ll ask you again.”

The ring on his finger throbbed with an invigorating energy that swiftly got Lautrec back on his feet. He remained still, with only the weight of his armor and the voice of his goddess keeping him grounded in reality.

“When the time comes, will you hesitate?”

“I won’t.” His answer came so promptly that his voice clashed with Fina’s. “Never forget that I am yours.”

“Oh, my knight.” Fina whispered so lowly that Lautrec could barely hear her. “My Lautrec.”

Though she couldn’t see her, Lautrec knew she was smiling.

Underneath his golden helmet, he smiled too.

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

“I must say I expected a more courageous performance from you.”

“My lady, it is one thing to fight a horde of Hollows.” Lautrec said once he was done rubbing of the filth off his helmet. “But to confront a ferocious drake, with nothing but a narrow bridge as our battlefield, wouldn’t have been brave, it would have been suicidal.”

“I suppose you are right. At the very least, I’m satisfied you didn’t end up becoming that beast’s dinner. You should be glad that its fire only brushed the surface of your helmet. Had it touched your skin, you’d be cursed with a burn that would never heal nor stop hurting.”

Lautrec had never believed such claims. He had always dismissed them as the exaggerated and baseless statements of antique books and scrolls.

But he believed Fina.

The memory of the drake and the closeness of its fire formed a hole in his stomach.

If there hadn’t been a secret passage underneath the bridge, the drake’s fire would have engulfed him whole, either reducing his body to ashes or leaving him covered in agonizing blisters.

It was seldom that Lautrec felt fear, but there was something dreadful in imagining himself at the absolute mercy of a beast.

Forcedly, he dismissed his panic from his mind. The least he wanted was for Fina to notice how scared he was.

His lady, while gracious and merciful, did not take kindly to displays of weakness of any sort, and she took great pleasure in mocking Lautrec every time he failed to keep his mental barriers up and left his most hidden insecurities exposed.

Though her derision was always heartless and poignant, Lautrec did not resent his goddess for it. He knew Fina didn’t do it out of malice, and had he been in her place, Lautrec would have done the same thing.

After all, he was a knight of Carim. To be always strong and resilient, especially when in the presence of his lady, was both his duty and his pride. If a lady mocked his knight, it was not to discourage or humiliate him, it was simply to remind him to keep the weakness of his heart in check.

Indomitable, stoic, dutiful, strong and steadfast.

Those were the true qualities of knighthood.

How Lautrec pitied the sentimental Astorans and the savage Catarinians for their deplorable and bastardized perceptions of what a knight was. They were pathetic, weak-minded and pretentious fools without a purpose.

None of them could ever understand what an honor it was for a knight to dedicate his entire existence to a lady. They couldn’t fathom the satisfaction a knight gained from being the eternal protector and the pillar of strength for his fated woman.

And if said woman was none other than Fina—

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s nothing.” Lautrec said. “I was just thinking of how blessed I am to have you as my lady.”

Fina remained quiet.

After a small moment, she chuckled.

“You are adorable.”

She sounded amused.

Lautrec waited for her to continue.

When she did, it was only to order him to proceed with his journey. Far from being disappointed, Lautrec was pleased. Though his confession hadn’t given him the answer he’d wanted, he had succeeded in making Fina laugh.

He had made her happy.

He couldn’t ask for anything more.

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

After getting rid of some meddlesome Hollows and infected rats, Lautrec managed to infiltrate the parish the drake had guarded so fiercely. He felt tempted to rest for a moment in a nearby bonfire, but Fina did not approve.

“I know you are tired.” She told him, so tenderly and motherly that Lautrec felt ashamed for having even thought about taking a rest at all. “But you cannot stop now. We are close to our destination. Once we are in Firelink Shrine, you will rest there for as long as you need. I want you strong and refreshed when your time comes to fulfill your duty.”

The reminder shattered all sense of peace and comfort Lautrec harbored. He raised his mental walls before Fina could sense his distress. This time, his weakness passed unnoticed by his goddess, but Lautrec still felt a boiling hatred for himself and his own feebleness.

Even if he could fool Fina, he couldn’t fool himself.

His rage and frustration fueled his attacks.

Every Hollow and any other abomination that crossed his way met their ends at the touch of his swords.

Lautrec fought his way through the chapel, but his streak of invincible prowess was cut short when the armored boar proved to be an enemy he couldn’t defeat.

The beast charged at him and sent him flying towards a wall of stone. If it hadn’t been for his armor, the violent crash would have broken his spine in half.

“Don’t even think about dying now.” Fina told him as he struggled to get back on his feet. “If you die, do you know how long it would take you to arrive to this place again? Seriously, if I had known you were so frail and easily defeated, I would have allowed you to rest at the bonfire. No wonder that harlot you used to look after is long dead. She was cursed to an early demise the moment you were made her guardian.”

Lautrec couldn’t move.

He felt as if Fina had dug a dagger into his chest and had ripped out his still beating heart. He would have remained there, rotting in his own bafflement for all time, if the loud trotting of the boar hadn’t snapped him out of his trance.

This time, Lautrec avoided the charging attack of the armored animal. He lunged himself forwards and landed on his chest.

Then, his instincts took over. His former bloodlust was replaced by an urgent need to survive.

He ran.

He did not look back at the enemies he left behind. He continued running, making use of his blades only if he had no other choice. Many of the Hollows he was escaping from tried to follow him, but they were slow and clumsy creatures.

The few that managed to keep up with Lautrec had their heads severed from their shoulders.

To him, his escape was little more than a blurry vision. It was as if his mind had become disconnected from his body and dull to its surroundings. At first, Lautrec tried to convince himself that his numbness was the result of his exhaustion and stress.

Like always, he failed to believe his own lies.

He couldn’t think of anything else. He continued pondering on his weakness long after he was safe again, inside the confines of an abandoned church.

How he had gotten there was only a hazy memory, as was his fight with the Hollow knights that lay dead at his feet.

His ring finger itched as if maggots were devouring it whole.

“See, my knight?” Fina told him. She caressed his chin, tracing a soft line along the bone of his jaw. “See how effective and lethal you are when properly motivated? Be thankful, Lautrec... for it is I who gave you the strength you needed to overcome your weakness. Go on, say it. Say that you are grateful to me for unleashing your best self.”

Fina rested her other hand on his chest, right above his heart.

“Say that you are grateful to me for being the only reason you are still alive.”

Lautrec’s mouth was bitter and parched. For the first time since he had become his loyal knight, he wished Fina would keep quiet and go away, if only for a moment.

All that Lautrec wanted was to be alone with his thoughts, but he was a knight of Carim. His time was not his to employ as he wished, it belonged only to his lady.

“I’m grateful.”

“Grateful for what?”

Lautrec clenched his jaw; he almost committed the offense of pulling away from Fina’s touch.

“I’m grateful to you for unleashing my best self.”

Then, he felt it. He felt how Fina tried to pierce through the barriers of his mind.

Lautrec strengthened his walls and hugged the arms of his cuirass.

“I’m grateful to you for being the only reason I’m still alive.”

“Oh, my Lautrec.” Fina kissed him in the cheek. The softness of her ethereal lips was followed by the sharpness of her voice. “If only I could believe you.”

Beads of cold sweat formed in Lautrec’s forehead. He didn’t know what scared him most, Fina’s anger or how easily she had seen through his façade.

He remained trapped together with his goddess in a cold uncertainty that felt eternal.

“You’ve got nothing to fear, my knight.” Fina said, “As long as do as I tell you, you won’t be giving me reasons to forsake you. As long as you forget about that ridiculous knightly pride of yours, killing that fire keeper will feel as natural as the beating of your heart. The act will be quick, peaceful and pleasant. She will be grateful to you for freeing her from her cursed fate. She will enjoy it, and so will you, if you just let go of your past and embrace your present.”

Lautrec’s lips quivered.

“You are Undead.” Fina continued, brushing away the only tear that escaped from his eyes. “You’ve got no lady to satisfy other than me. The teachings of your homeland have no meaning in Lordran. I am your everything; you are my knight.”

“I am.” Lautrec muttered. He was overwhelmed. Not even the darkest piece of Humanity could have granted him as much peace and comfort as Fina did.

“Then prove it to me now.” Fina’s tone changed. It remained gentle, but now her words sounded like orders. “Over there, at the altar. Do you see it?”

He did.

There it was, at the other side of the church, carved in stone and untouched by time. Behind it, he could see the statue of a woman.

“Not just any woman.” Fina corrected him with a scoff. “It’s me. Approach it, my knight.”

Lautrec obeyed. He felt like almost like a child.

The silly excitement he felt slowly vanished the closer the got to the altar, and it disappeared completely the moment his eyes understood what the strange figure laying on the altar’s surface really was.

Lautrec was used to the sight of corpses. He had been familiar with death since the time when he had been too young to become a page.

However, as unfazed as he remained by the decrepit state of the corpse before him, Lautrec trembled at the sight of the glowing orb floating just above the body’s chest.

“What a shame.” Fina said, “I would have preferred her to be alive so you could kill her, but it seems someone else already did the deed for you. You must be rather disappointed.”

“But I thought,” Lautrec swallowed before he could continue, “I thought the fire keeper would be at Firelink Shrine, locked for all eternity inside a cave, just like you told me.”

“Don’t be stupid, my knight. This fire keeper is not the same you will murder. This must be the tribute some deluded fool left here for me in a desperate attempt to earn my favor. Whoever he may be, the only thing he’s gained is my disdain. Does he honestly believe I would accept the offerings and advances of every man that comes by, as if I were a common strumpet? The gall! Does he not know that Fina handpicks her knights and followers? Does he note care? Such offense will not go unpunished! If he ever dares to come back, you will fight him, and you will kill him.”

“I will.” Lautrec promised, wishing that the offender would return and give him an excuse to step away from the altar, but no one came.

“Regardless,” Fina continued once the worst of her flaring temper had passed, “it would be a waste to refuse this soul. I will not accept the offering of a stranger, but if my knight was to offer it to me instead, everything would be different.”

There was no need for Fina to instruct him further.

Somehow, Lautrec managed to lift his arms. They felt heavy, as if they were made of stone. It took as much effort to get them closer to the corpse as keeping the barriers of his mind up did.

Yet, he could Fina trying to tear down his defenses and reach the deepest part of his mind. She wanted to see it.

She wanted to make sure that his heart was free of all regret and doubt.

Why shouldn’t it be?

Lautrec was staggered by the question as he asked it to himself.

To kill a fire keeper was the greatest sin a Carim knight could ever commit. It was an unforgiveable offense, a taint on his soul not even death could remove.

But he was not responsible for the death of this fire keeper. He had not taken her life; he had only found her rotting corpse on his goddess’ altar.

He had done nothing wrong.

He was following his lady’s commands.

So truly, he was fulfilling his duty as her knight.

He was just—

“Take it.” Fina said in his ear. It wasn’t until then that Lautrec realized his hands had remained stuck in the same position for a while. His armored fingers were so close to the fire keeper’s soul that its gentle warmth could be felt through his gauntlets. “Do it.”

“I will.” Lautrec smiled. His pulse throbbed intensely in his temples. “I am yours, remember? I love you, Fina.”

“Shut up and take it!”

That he would.

His rebellious hands had just started to listen to his commands when the blade of a rapier emerged from his chest. His blood covered the weapon, concealing the silver of the metal underneath a crimson layer.

Lautrec let out a soft gasp. It was the only sound his pierced lung could muster.

Fina did scream on his mind; more than a mournful lament, her cry resembled a roar. She cursed the stranger for spilling the blood of her servant.

She damned him for damaging that which belonged to her.

The stranger, if he could hear her, ignored the goddess with sinful indifference. Instead, he focused all his attention on Lautrec.

The stranger warped an arm around Lautrec’s neck and pulled him closer to him, further impaling him with the blade of the rapier. The weapon cut through the plates of Lautrec’s armor as easily as it cut through his flesh and bones.

“I witnessed your sin.” The stranger said as he rested his chin on Lautrec’s shoulder. “And it shall not go unpunished.”

“Kill him! Don’t you dare die without putting up a fight!” Fina exclaimed. Her voice resonated so loudly in his ears that Lautrec was surprised they didn’t start to bleed. “Kill this bastard, you useless coward! What kind of man are you? Are you even a real knight? Don’t you dare die, Lautrec. I will never forgive you if you fail me this way. If you die, I will forsake you and leave you to rot in this cursed land. I have no need nor use for weak men.”

The stranger removed the rapier from Lautrec’s body. His movements were quick, but they were not gentle.

Lautrec swallowed his pain and blood and tried to turn around. He would do as Fina said. He would not die in such a shameful way.

If a knight of Carim was meant to die, he had to meet death in the heat of battle. To perish under any other circumstances was the greatest humiliation imaginable.

“My lady,” Lautrec stuttered as he tightened his grip on his swords.

Just when he was turning on his heels, the stranger grabbed him by his helmet and violently pulled him down to the floor.

He then grabbed Lautrec’s arm and pulled it behind his back until he let go the sword. The stranger kept pulling, almost snapping Lautrec’s arm from his shoulder.

“Useless.” Fina spat at Lautrec. Her voice was venom, and it spread across his soul like a blight. “Absolutely useless. What a pitiable excuse for a man, what a mockery of a knight you turned out to be.”

The stranger said something. His voice overlapped with Fina’s.

Lautrec tried to reach out for his goddess, but he had already sunk too deep into the darkness of death. His life was leaking away from him, taking with it all of his thoughts and his strength.

Soon, all that remained inside him was exhaustion and the phantom of his own despair.

Lautrec heard a distant, chilling laughter.

It was the last thing he perceived before death claimed him.

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

He got no response from the knight.

Oswald waited, but it was in vain.

He knew the knight was awake and could hear him. Oswald had defeated him; then, he had healed his injuries by forcingly feeding him Estus.

Sinners like the knight did not deserve to be granted the peacefulness of death so easily. Death, contrary to what most people believed, was not a punishment or a sentence. To those with a clean conscience and an unburdened heart, death was a well-deserved rest.

Yet, even if the knight had not sinned, to let him die would be an unnecessary waste of time. He was Undead, and for all Undead, death no longer had the same meaning than for those who remained free from the curse.

“You should have taken your own life the moment you lost your lady. That’s what was expected from you, or are you not a true knight of Carim?”

Oswald said. The knight refused to acknowledge him, but Oswald did not care.

“That fact you still exist when you’ve got no lady to protect is a sin in itself. How unfortunate that the Undead curse prevents you from fulfilling this last duty... or perhaps luck has nothing to do with this matter, and you sought a way to curse yourself in a pathetic attempt to preserve your life?”

Oswald listened as the echo of his own laughter spread across the church. The knight of the golden armor, however, remained quiet and indifferent.

He had his chin glued to his chest. His hands were caressing the golden arms of his cuirass.

So, he was one of them.

Oswald’s smile almost hesitated, but he had long learned that to pour any amount of pity into those lost, deluded men was useless.

It was seldom that they broke free from their delusions, and most of them never tried at all. They became drunk on the promises of eternal love of the vainest of goddesses.

They willingly fell for her empty words.

Fina’s power over them was only as strong as the power of their own wills.

It was no wonder she always picked the most broken and feeble of knights.

“Your failure to keep your former lady alive, whoever she was, is an unforgivable sin.” Oswald said. He took a step back from the cell. He joined his hands behind his back. “But that’s not the reason I am punishing you. Whatever sins and mistakes your committed back in Carim are none of my concern, but those you commit her in Lordran are my domain. And I saw what you did, so don’t even try to deny it. At this point, accepting your fault is the least you could do to salvage what little honor remains in your rotten heart.”

The knight did react to this. He lifted his head and looked at Oswald.

Oswald couldn’t see his eyes, hidden behind his golden helmet as they were, but he could almost feel the ice-cold glare of the knight.

“I did not kill her.” He said.

There was anger in his voice, but also a deep emptiness. He would go Hollow soon.

Oswald smiled.

“Perhaps you didn’t.” He conceded. “I have no proof, so I cannot thrust the weight of this sin upon you; but I saw what you did. I saw how you tried to take her soul for yourself.”

Oswald expected the knight to say something in return. He was prepared to counter his excuses and tear apart his arguments, but the knight said nothing.

His silence was all Oswald needed to know he had condemned a guilty, dangerous man.

“If you were willing to commit such a vile act, what will stop you from killing a fire keeper yourself the next chance you get? Certainly not your conscience, even less your pride as a knight. That’s why you shall never leave this cell. You will remain here until you go Hollow.”

Oswald gave one last look to the disgraced knight before turning his back on him.

“And then I will kill you. But remember this, knight, your death is not your punishment.”

He told him as he walked toward the stairs that led to the church’s roof.

“It is merely the fate you chose for yourself.”

Oswald laughed again.

He didn’t so out of mockery or cruelty, but out of amusement.

Oh, Fina’s so-called devoted followers.

They would have been pitiable if they weren’t so pathetic in the first place.

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

Fina had forsaken him.

The bitter solitude of her absence had almost driven Lautrec to his Hollowing, just like the death of his first lady had come close to sink him into madness.

But he had endured, though not because he was strong.

If he had been allowed to keep his sanity after losing everything, it was because he had never lost his faith.

Faith that he could make amends and regain the love of his goddess.

A faith that became invigorated after some poor idiot freed him for his cell.

A faith that was about to be cemented now that the second bell had tolled.

It was time.

He had delayed the act long enough.

It will be quick.

Lautrec thought as he grabbed the fire keeper by the neck through the barriers of her cell. She showed no emotion in her blue Astoran eyes.

It is peaceful.

Her stoic semblance not once faltered, not even as Lautrec slit her belly with a long slash of his curved sword.

It was pleasant.

Lautrec did not trust this last thought, but when his eyes meet with the agonizing and defying stare of the moribund fire keeper, he could see a glimmer of happiness in her.

It was then Lautrec knew that Fina had been right all along.

The gaze the fire keeper was giving him was not one of hatred or resentment, but of gratefulness. In the last moments of her miserable life, she was thanking him in silence.

She was grateful to him for freeing her from her everlasting torment.

She was enjoying the moment just as much as Lautrec was.

“You are welcome.”

Lautrec told the fire keeper before letting go of her fading corpse. He forgot about her as soon as her neck left his hand.

In his other hand, floating above his blood-soaked palm, there was her soul.

I did it, Fina. Can you see me?

Lautrec held the essence close to his chest. His mind, devoid of all barriers now that he had freed himself from his past fears and insecurities, was touched by the soft whisper of a goddess only he could hear.

“I do.”

Fina answered. For the first time since his defeat at the hands of the pardoner, Lautrec felt safe in the tender embrace of his one and only lady.

“My knight.”

Lautrec smiled.

He felt whole.

@pan-de-torao

@dbzespio

Lautrec leaned heavily on his knees, gazing deeply into the bonfire and its dancing flames. He sighed softly as his wounds began to heal up, and the strength returned to his body.

Yes, this bonfire had served him well. But now, he felt it was time to move on.

His posture still stooped forward, he turned his eyes upward to behold the firekeeper.

Much like his, her helm hid her face from view, and so he could not tell where exactly her gaze was directed. She was rested against the wall, her body still with a certain poise, one that indicated she was not one to be trifled with. She could hop out of that position and into a battle stance at once, and all with the ease of a well-trained warrior; he could tell.

He rose to his feet with a slight grunt of effort.

No, it would not be worth the trouble. He already had one prize; he didn’t need more.

Those damned archers…

Lautrec nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of a new bonfire. He practically dragged himself to sit before it, finally allowing his gaping wounds to heal once again.

“Oh! There you are!”

Lautrec startled, snapping his head towards the voice.

But it was only a fellow knight, seated there on the floor nearby, just far enough to still be warmed by the flames. The crest on his chest held no significance; the fool had likely painted it on himself in a fit of self-grandeur, or perhaps, sheer lunacy. He also appeared to be adorned with a feather or two and... was that grass? A lunatic indeed.

Lautrec faintly recognized him; he had likely summoned the fool to assist him in battle at one point or another. He merely grunted a sort of half-acknowledgement of the knight’s words and returned his gaze to the bonfire.

The knight politely waited a few moments before speaking again. He leaned forward slightly, his voice friendly. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately. Smooth summoning out there?”

Lautrec slowly turned to face him again, wishing that his glower could melt through his helm.

“Anytime you see my brilliantly shining signature, do not hesitate to call upon me,” the knight continued. “I must say: you’ve left me with quite an impression. I would relish a chance to assist you.”

Was that fondness in his voice? Truly a fool, this man was.

Despite this, a modicum of camaraderie swelled a little within Lautrec’s chest. Fool though he was, this man was still an undead knight, trapped within this godsforsaken realm, no doubt charged with a quest similar to his own. He felt he owed the knight a warning, at the very least.

“Our futures are murky,” he finally told him, turning back to the fire. “Let’s not be too friendly now.”

“Nonsense,” the man proclaimed, the feather atop his helm swaying in place as he fervently shook his head. “You and I are bound together in not one, but two bouts of jolly cooperation!

“Whatever your quest, my good knight,” he continued, his fist held up in a firm resolve, “I feel certain you will see it through.”

“I already have.” Lautrec rose and readied himself to leave. “Now it is nothing more than a simple matter of delivery.”

Breathing heavily, Lautrec willed himself forward before collapsing before the fire.

That was too close.

His eyes darted around wildly before settling upon the summon signs around him.

So there it was. His answer to the ever-constant invasions…

Lautrec and his posse had just cleared the hall when yet another invader formed before them. She was but a simple cleric, but her eyes smoldered with barely suppressed rage as she rose from the haze upon ground.

“Oh, look! Another one,” Lautrec sneered, waving the others to attention. “How many times must these lambs rush to slaughter? Ah well… Let’s get it over with!”

Lautrec charged forward, his summoned warrior following in his wake. Just behind them, his sage readied his wand.

The cleric immediately raised her shield, a flimsy thing, really, and certainly no match for his blades. It managed to reduce the impact of the sage’s magic bolts, but now, Lautrec was right before her. He reared back before striking her a solid blow, his curved shotel easily reaching around her paltry shield. The shield blocked his comrade’s spear, but the woman now looked rather breathless.

“‘Tis a terrible pity,” Lautrec mused, trading his left shotel for a knife as he watched the invading cleric scramble to return her shield to her back. “Like a... moth, flittering towards a flame.

“You fellows… No? Don’t you agree?” He turned back towards his sage and briefly extended his arm towards his warrior, allowing the cleric a moment to ready herself for an attack of her own.

As if she’d stand a chance.

He chuckled darkly, watching as she lifted her talisman. She cast Force, which sent the spearman to the ground and the sage’s next magical projectile soaring back to strike him in the face.

Lautrec himself stumbled before recklessly charging her again. If his companions weren’t able to strike her, it appeared he’d have to finish the job himself.

She rolled away when he slashed at her with his shotel before charging at him with a knife that he hadn’t noticed she had been holding. He caught it with his own, slashing at her again with his free arm.

Vulnerable as she was, and with no armor to boot, the cleric staggered from the devastating blow. Lautrec kicked her away, laughing callously yet again. The sage’s magical bolts peppered her several times as she struggled to recover. In the meantime, Lautrec traded his parrying knife for his second shotel, all the while watching her intently.

Finally she knelt with talisman in hand. He recognized the gesture immediately as one of self-healing. “Oh no, you don’t…”

With that said, he lashed out with dual strikes and chuckled as her form disintegrated into smoky mists. He helped himself to the humanities and souls she left behind before turning back to his entourage. “Well, well. I thought you were wiser… but I thought wrong.”

His summoned warrior lunged at her now formless remains with his spear. Poor fellow was a bit slow to grasp the reality of the situation. Finally he recognized she was gone and returned to Lautrec’s side.

“Well, that was rather simple,” he scoffed and scanned the area. He beheld a glowing summon sign near the stairwell and went to examine it further.

Ah, if it wasn’t the fool himself.

Lautrec recalled the spearman, and summoned the warrior of sunlight. He arose with his arms in the air in a sun salute before facing Lautrec with a nod. Thankfully, he didn’t talk as much while in a summoned state.

Lautrec led them down the hall and pushed open the giant, double doors. He would have thought the room beyond empty, until he finally took note of a giant, stocky figure at the other end of the area. For a moment, they were so still Lautrec wasn’t quite certain whether they were human or statue. Either way, they wielded a hammer, nearly as large as themself.

Before Lautrec or the others could move in to have a closer look, another figure slowly and gracefully made their way to one of the balconies above. A single hand rested gently upon the railing as the knight, clad in incredibly intricate armor, gazed down at all of them. Within moments, the knight leapt down to stand before them, poised for battle.

The one wielding a hammer hefted it upon his shoulder, moving the giant weapon with such an ease that it looked as if it were made of feathers. So then apparently this ‘statue’ could move after all.

Lautrec faintly recognized the pair of warriors; felt certain that he had found their likenesses etched in marble somewhere within the city of Anor Londo. But it hardly mattered; if they stood in his path, they would be eliminated, all for the glory of the goddess.

The knight charged forward, his spear at the ready. Lautrec raced to meet him, easily moving off to the side to avoid the incoming spear. However gifted he may be, this spearman was no different from all others; he favored his right. All Lautrec needed to do was be careful to avoid that side and attack from the left, whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Meanwhile, Solaire focused his efforts on the giant. He would avoid the swing of his hammer with well-timed rolls and slash away with his sword while the giant struggled to reorient himself. He’d have to sprint away whenever his opponent decided to charge him, his hammer practically transformed into a whirlwind. And once his back was turned, Solaire would toss over a few lightning bolts in response.

Meanwhile, Lautrec’s summoned sage would hurl magic bolts at the giant. He was a large, and therefore, easy target, after all. And with both Lautrec and Solaire keeping their opponents busy, the sage didn’t have much to worry about, so long as he kept himself far from the fray.

Before long, the giant man crumpled to the ground and took his last breath. Ornstein leaped away from Lautrec to stand at his side. He rested a hand against his fallen comrade’s body with a clearly remorseful weight to the action, despite how simple it was.

But that simple gesture granted the knight a sudden surge in power. His very size surged until he grew to twice his height and weight. His spear sizzled with electricity as he held it aloft, reinvigorated to fight anew.

“By the goddess!” Lautrec exclaimed as the spearman lunged at him. He rushed away; this time, it was much more difficult to avoid the weapon, given it too had increased in size.

Solaire took the moment to lob a spear of lightning at the dragonslayer. However, it hardly had any effect.

The sage had prepared a more powerful spell, and this time, several magical bolts struck Ornstein at once. He momentarily flinched before rushing forward to attack the sage.

Lautrec and Solaire used the opportunity to move in close, slashing away at Ornstein’s legs. In response, the knight readied a lighting strike, charging up his spear with crackling electricity. Lautrec just barely managed to avoid being impaled, but his body shuddered as the remnants of lightning burned at his skin. He rolled away and yanked up his helm to chug a flask of Estus.

Meanwhile, Ornstein leapt high into the air, his body practically shining with excess electricity. Both Solaire and Lautrec were knocked off their feet as the dragonslayer crashed back down to the ground, sparks flying nearly everywhere. Even the sage, far from the action, staggered from the impact.

Lautrec frantically rolled until he was far away, ripping back his helm to down not one, but two flasks of Estus. This wasn’t going to be an easy battle.

But once he had his fill of Estus, he clenched his fists tightly around his shotels. He would not falter. For, after all, he had the favor of the goddess.

In the meantime, Solaire hurried to his feet and rushed in to attack Ornstein’s legs once again, determined to give Lautrec the time he needed to recover. He narrowly avoided another lunge; his body involuntarily shuddering from the excess electricity. How he longed to drink but a drop of Estus… But he had no time for that.

Meanwhile the sage had quickly gathered his wits and hurled magical bolts at the dragonslayer. He was too distracted with Solaire to fight back, so the mage continued his assault without interruption.

Reinvigorated, Lautrec moved in to assist Solaire. Together the two kept slashing away at Ornstein’s feet, all while avoiding his near-constant barrage of lightning laden lunges. Ornstein was just about to recharge his spear when the sage dealt him one blow too many, and the mighty dragonslayer finally fell.

Muscles buzzing with excess energy and skin burning from electrical buildup, Lautrec heaved hungry breaths of air as he watched the knight succumb to darkness. A glittering light was left behind, along with several other treasures.

But before he could go to retrieve them, the foolish knight hurried to stand before him. He jovially clapped Lautrec’s shoulder until he finally lifted his helm to look him in the face.

“A truly excellent bout of jolly cooperation, my good friend!” Solaire declared, no doubt a hearty grin beneath that helm. “Here; please take this!”

Lautrec already knew what the man was about to give him, and he didn’t want it.

Regardless, Solaire found his hand and pressed a warm medal into it. Lautrec could feel the warmth even though the thickness of his armor; the object was indeed strange. But he refused to close his fingers, so the medal eventually fell to the ground once the golden sunlight warrior finally vanished into thin air. Lautrec didn’t bother to give the thing even the slightest of second glances. He simply didn’t need it.

Instead he moved in to receive his prizes. A gluttony of souls, along with Ornstein’s own, and a ring, a lion engraved upon it. He doubted he would find much use for it. Regardless, he tucked it away along with the rest.

He wandered about the area for a while before coming upon a moving platform. He took it to find access to the balconies above, and to his great relief, a bonfire laid in wait. He took a rest there, allowing his wounds and aching body to heal.

Soon enough, he rose to his feet and made his way to the double doors before him. What laid behind them took his breath away.

There, her beautiful body draped across a plush chaise, laid the goddess Fina. The room was warm; soft light that emanated from the goddess herself wrapped the area in a gentle glow.

“Fina…” Lautrec breathed, immediately dropping down to one knee.

Fina smiled and extended a gentle hand towards him. “Thou hast journey’d far, and overcome much, chosen Undead. Come hither, child…”

Lautrec blinked. ‘Chosen undead?’ ‘Child?’

Did she not see him?

He cleared his throat. “Fina, my beloved… It is I, Lautrec the Embraced. And I have for you a gift...” He procured the firekeeper’s soul and held it aloft.

She beckoned to him again. “Come hither…”

“As you wish…” Lautrec humbly rose, moved to stand just before her, and knelt down, all while holding out his treasure for her to take.

“O chosen Undead,” she continued, her voice soft. “I am Gwynevere. Daughter of Lord Gwyn; and Queen of Sunlight…”

She had more to say, but Lautrec immediately stopped listening. Rage boiled up within his gut and spread throughout his body as he clenched his teeth.

The blasphemous wench! How dare she pose as the everlasting goddess!

Snarling, Lautrec ripped his shotel from its sheath and slashed the imposter, causing the unsuspecting woman to scream out. But his steel did not taste flesh; rather, he tore through naught but haze.

The woman was but a mirage. A trick of his mind.

Just as suddenly as the woman disappeared, the room went dark. It was cold here.

Lautrec looked about wildly, but he was alone, left with nothing but a soft, almost fading light from the firekeeper’s soul. He dropped his shotel, and it clattered to the ground, louder than ever now.

Was Fina… testing him?

He clenched his fist. No, it was that woman’s fault. She was a charlatan, a fake. Nothing was worse than impersonating a goddess. And it wasn’t as if he had ever seen a being as wondrous as the goddess herself in person before. How could he have known?

Yes... yes. He was not to blame here. No, not at all.

In that moment, the silence was broken.

I witnessed your sin, and it shall not go unpunished.

Lautrec froze. Too afraid to turn and face the voice.

Thou shalt perish in the twilight of Anor Londo.

No, this wasn’t happening. Everything he had done… it was all for Fina.

He couldn’t have…

Slight footsteps from behind compelled him to whirl around. A blue phantom stood within the doorway; she was dressed in light armor, not unlike the painting guardians he had encountered shortly after he had entered Anor Londo. And just like those warriors, she was wielding two short blades.

He would have bent to retrieve his shotel, but his limbs felt heavy, worn. And before his mind could have the opportunity to overpower his fading will, the warrior rushed forward, her blade plunging into his abdomen. She twisted the weapon, and he shuddered, the pain overtaking all of his senses. She kicked him to remove her blade, and his body easily crumpled to the ground.

He laid there in agony, coughing up blood and wondering why she hadn’t yet finished him off. Once he finally opened his eyes, he saw her, tenderly holding the firekeeper’s soul. He must have dropped it at some point, or maybe she had taken it from his hand; he could hardly tell, much less remember, at this point. All he knew was that it was ill-gotten. That he had soiled Fina’s good name in taking it.

Before long, his helm was roughly ripped off of him. “This is for Anastacia of Astora,” the warrior stated, her voice cold.

With that said, she lopped off his ear. “The Dark Sun will be pleased.” Her voice was soft now, devoid of the malice with which she spoke earlier.

He watched her ready a black separation crystal. “You will not kill me?” he finally managed to ask.

“Killing you would only end your suffering.” She stepped on the wound in his gut and pressed down, forcing him to cry out yet again. “And my wish for you is to wallow in it.”

She finally backed away and activated her crystal, returning to her realm awash in shining light.

Lautrec, bloodied and broken, finally mustered the strength to drag himself out of the room and towards the bonfire beyond.

But it was not lit.

He coughed again, blood spattering across the marbled floor. His vision blurred; the blood loss certainly wasn’t helping matters.

He crawled onwards, knowing full well he was too far gone to reach another bonfire. But he knew he must try. For Fina’s sake.

Fina…

He had failed her.

No…! He would never…!

His fingers trembled as he continued to drag himself forward. Onwards.

Everything, yes, everything he had done, all of it was for Fina. For her glory. For his honor. For their love.

But…

Lautrec faltered and hissed. The pain was too great.

Fina was a magnificent, benevolent goddess. Death in her name would only serve to sully her beauty, her magnanimity. She would never allow it.

But the prize.

The endless souls… They would preserve her beauty forever; grant her with eternal youth.

Lautrec’s fingers hit into a wall. He could barely see straight; his body felt cold. He wasn��t certain how much longer he would last.

He pulled himself into a seated position, his back against the wall. He breathed deeply, as best as his tired lungs would allow.

The ends do not justify the means.

He had failed his goddess, his love, by dishonoring her name. She would never accept any gifts, any love from a man drenched in sin. He knew this now.

He would perish within the twilight of Anor Londo.

As his goddess ordained.

@lefrustemangaka

@taroris

Silence always followed death. It was mandatory, as only death could rip things from this world with such coldness and leave a grieving void where the poor soul exhaled its last breath. Once the Shrine’s fire faded, not even the breeze dared to break the deathly quietness.

It took a while for Anastacia’s grasp around the metal rod to vanish; her delicate face contracted in a somewhat painful expression yet with relief under her lifeless blue eyes. Blue eyes which also stared at Lautrec with reproach; reproach because it wasn’t yet her time to leave, because she was supposed to die after fulfilling her role as Firekeeper, not in the hands of a knight who kept her company day after day until turning his blade against her.

With a swift measured move of hand, Lautrec cleaned the blood from his shotel. It was splattered on the floor in front of the rusty cell, which seemed to have been built in a rush by non-expert hands. Her frame paled in the light, not even a murmur was produced by the vanishment process. Then, the delicate soul of Anastacia jingled where her place has been for, perhaps, an eternity; tiny humanities dancing around the pure white light, happy, unbothered by the grim turn of events.

Lautrec picked them up and gave a look at the light and the darkness. Both antagonists floated pleasantly in his hand; darkness around light, light around darkness. The tendrils of Anastacia’s soul seemed to caress the humanities, as a mother would do to their kids. The humanities seemed to love the attention as they appeared to jump and shake their small bodies pleased. The somewhat peace these poor vestiges of a past life enjoyed was finally disrupted, for the image of the very safety and home meant nothing to Lautrec, whose real home was in the arms of a Goddess and the safety was only reached after the brief moments of offering the humanities he separated from Anastacia and placed inside his travel bag.

The Firekeepers' soul seemed to shiver when the mourning was over and the wind blew in the shrine, caressing its tendrils and letting it know of the newfound loneliness.

Truth be told, the reaction of the white soul was rather peculiar. With a tilt of his head, Lautrec observed how it reacted to its surroundings. How it seemed to know somehow that something was off. Maybe the pureness of the Firekeepers’ souls was the one to blame; souls remaining safe of the hunger that leads most Undeads, unbothered by the filthiness of the world that has no room for these same souls unless entrusted with the task to tend fire.

Lautrec scoffed. He was no innocent human, that was as true as the sky was blue. On top of that, he was hungry; hungry to please her Lady, hungry to give her everything she wished for. Staring at the soul wouldn’t do him any good. Then, almost in a whisper, a kind voice spoke to him. It spoke to him about time, about love, about forgiveness. For Lautrec, there was only one thing more absolute than death, and that was her Goddess’s words. He knew what he had to do next: complete his duty in the so-called city of Gods, but which was no home for his Lady. At least, not anymore.

The knight left the Shire, wherein the few beings remaining there barely noticed his leave. He, then, resumed his travel; going through the cathedral, through the burg, through the fortress made to break one’s soul but merely scratched his for the loving voice gave him the strength needed to prevail and move forward. It was such the faith in his Lady’s words that he even travelled through air (carried by nasty ugly demons) to arrive at his destination.

With utmost care, Lautrec inspectioned the place until finding the bonfire and, with the bonfire, the Firekeeper. He felt the arms around his torso hug him even in a more affectionate way, and the joy which washed over his body was almost overwhelming. Yet, he shouldn’t be carried away by those feelings, or he could end up imprisoned again, when the end of his task was within the reach of his fingertips.

When the Firekepeer spoke, Anastacia’s Soul shaked faintly in his travel bag.

“Mmh… You are a rare visitor,” she said once he walked down the stairs. In her voice, there was a hit of something Lautrec couldn’t place right away. “Welcome to the lost city of Anor Londo. If you seek Lord Gwyn’s old keep, exit here and head straight yonder. If you-”

“I will, for now, allow myself to take a rest,” Lautrec interrupted her.

It had been quite a while since he had been around a talkative Firekeeper. Instead, he had grown so comfortable with the silence around Anastacia that he had forgotten how annoying these women can be sometimes; with their gibberish and duties.

“Very well. After all, that is what the bonfire is for,” she muttered, with annoyance and that something which was still difficult to place in her voice.

Lautrec sat down near the fire. His tired legs sighed with the brief break they were given while his hands quickling unfastened the travel bag around his waist.

The moment to observe her came when he pretended to take care of his equipment, of his shotels and armour. It stood out that Firekeeper was nothing like the previous ones he had encountered before; all delicate ladies, sometimes blinded, sometimes too oblivious of the world around her. This woman, instead, looked like a warrior, and it was not because of the pretentious armour befitting of an even more pretentious place like Anor Londo. No. It was because of the aura around her, of the way she folded her arms, the posture she kept against the wall, the way tried to appear like she was self-absorbed but her eyes felt like daggers poking his skin.

It finally clicked. That something hard to place in her voice: mistrust. This woman was, by all means, different from the previous Firekeepers who always thought he was a well-meaning knight searching for their help and fire. This woman was dangerous, because mistrust made you be aware of dangers, of betrayal, and made offering harder. Lautred needed to find help, and by help it meant cannon fodder. For that reason he got up and announced it was time to continue his journey. The knight, then, adventured himself even further in the city, further into the high building.

His shotel cut through multiple enemies dressed in white clothes and who threw daggers. He got no reward from it and the voice whispering kind words suddenly started to rush him to go back to the Firekeeper’s place. Oh, how much he wished to speak with his Lady at that moment, to hold her delicate hands and promise her that she would have the world if only she gave him a moment to do what had to be done to cut the Firekeeper’s throat.

His steps lead him to a cathedral, wide, open, and filled with multiple enemies. Even if it cost him some estus, Lautrec prevailed and the colossals figures and Silver Knights ended up falling to his blade. When inside there was no more than silence (a silence aware of the knight’s intentions and which followed him as it followed death), Lautrec started to search for marks. For marks of unwaries who would have no other choice but to help him fulfill his role; perhaps serving as bait.

It didn’t take him long to come across a well-known yellow sign. Holding back a scoff turned out to be impossible for a solid second, as there was no point in summoning that crazy fool. Lautrec kept searching, avoiding the signs of Warriors of Sunlight as if they were infected with the plague. Then, finally, after walking up and down the hallway, he located it: two white summoning signs. A sorcerer and a spearman. That would serve him well. Lautrec touched the first white light, with black letters signaling a name that he couldn’t care less, before touching the second one. Two men appeared in front of him and spoke words of greeting, too cheerfully for his liking. He barely muttered some words to content them for there were more pressing matters to attend.

After the pointless greeting was over, the three of them walked to the entry, to the closed massive doors. With a sigh, Lautrec started to look for the mechanism to open them, locating a giant lever attached to some big gears.

Upon touching the handle, though, he felt it. The soft rumbling of worlds clashing together. His furrow deepened under his helmet and walked back to his comrades who were looking at their surroundings. Lautrec didn’t feel like playing the mouse and cat game at that moment, so, when the other two men looked at him wondering about his plan, he simply ordered them to wait until the dark phantom appeared.

And the phantom did so. After a closer look at the armour, an amused hum left his lips. The Chosen Undead straightened their back and when their gaze fell on the knight and his cannon fodder, they stormed towards them, sword raised in wrath. The same wrath that filled their voice when they spoke.

“Lautred, you bastard! How dare you kill her?! How dare you kill Anastacia?!”

The knight waited (hearing reassuring words of his Lady that ensured him the victory) for the Chosen Undead to run towards them and for his summonings to defend him, as it was a mandatory rule between the fool Undeads.

“Well, look at you,” he began, dragging out his shotel. “I thought you were wiser, but I thought wrong!”

@thefatladysang

#dark souls #lautrec of carim #fanart #fanfiction #soulsborne chain game #dark souls chain 2 #lautrec chain

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incorrectspnforfun · 4 years ago

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Is it just me or has this fandom gotten kinda serious??

Like I still love spn and the fandom as a whole, it’s nice to be supported by people who share the same interests as you but everything’s been blown up almost.

For instance I know the ‘walker’ premiere’s soon, something that a lot of people have worked really hard on including Jared, and some people are being so horrible about it without even watching it. Basically a lot of people are trying to make it fail because of spn and the controversy surrounding the ending, which I think is so childish and selfish. I mean if you watch it and don’t like it fair enough but if it’s just because of Jared being in it or because you didn’t like the spn finale what’s the point?

Everyone has their own opinion on the ending, which is fine, but to come for the actors and their career is so wrong and messed up.

Not only that but as a result of this the spn fandom is getting a bad reputation as toxic and immature (a lot of people assume were bitchy teenagers like???) I have several problems with that stereotype in itself but that’s not the point.

I just feel like it’s not about enjoying the show any more, but maybe that’s just me. I would love to hear your thoughts on this because you seem like a genuinely nice and friendly spn blog. Thank you, sorry it was long.

Hi!

Don’t apologize at all! I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I’m happy to answer it and talk about this now. <3

I’ve talked about this whole thing with a lot of different people, and the whole issue still doesn’t sit right with me, but I’ll give you my thoughts and opinions and everything based on the talks I’ve had with friends/family who are also in the fandom.

And before I get into my whole big long shpiel, I’m gonna say it now:

I don’t want to argue with anyone in the comments.

I don’t want a bunch of hate.

If you don’t like what I say here, then scroll past it and ignore it. If you wanna unfollow the blog, that’s fine.

But this person is asking me for my thoughts, maybe because they’re feeling hurt and confused by this fandom right now, like I am, and I don’t blame them, so I’m gonna tell them what I think, which means telling all of you. And if you don’t like it, then ignore it. But I’m not gonna fight with people. I will delete rude comments, because I don’t want the toxicity.

I do try to keep this blog as positive, happy, and uplifting as possible, and I’m going to try to keep this post as positive as possible as well, but I, admittedly, have been very angered by some of the behavior of the people in this fandom, so if I come off as short and upset, I apologize in advance.

All of that said, here we go:

Yes. I agree with you 100%. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know what it is, but the controversy over the finale created such a toxicity in the fandom that is killing me.

I have always been proud to be in the fandom because we are a family. The SPN Family has always been a force for good: donating to charities, fighting for people’s rights, and just in general promoting love, kindness, and happiness.

So to see all of that falling apart because of an ending?? Of a TV show?? It breaks me. It hurt my heart. When the controversy first started, I was in tears over everything happening, because I was heartbroken.

Hearing that SPN fans were scaring actors and other fans off of social media because of their hate over the ending was one of the worst things I’d ever heard. And the fact that it only continued to escalate honestly made me wish I wasn’t in this fandom, if only to avoid the association. I even started avoiding a lot of my favorite SPN creators because they were being so toxic about the ending.

Look. I loved the ending, and if you hate me for that, it’s fine. But I did. I thought it was perfect. I know there are a lot of people that didn’t. And that’s fine. We can agree to disagree. If you hate the ending, you have a right to your opinion.

What nobody has the right to do, though, is hate on other people for their opinions, in any sense of the word.

Jared Padalecki should not be getting hate because he loved and was proud of the finale.

Jim Beaver should not have gotten hate because he was in the finale and was happy to be a part of something so beautiful.

Misha Collins should not have gotten hate because he expressed his opinion about Cas’s ending and everything that came with the finale.

Yes, they’re celebrities. Yes, they play these characters. But they are also people. They are human.

This entire family has been built on the fact that these actors put us on their level. They respect us and treat us like we’re all equals. Don’t we owe them the same courtesy?

This is getting a little preachy, but my point is that yes, this fandom has gotten toxic and serious and frustrating in a lot of ways, and it really hurts me on a personal level, because I love this family. I bragged for years about how positive the energy in this fandom was, and how open-minded and warm and welcoming everybody in it was.

So to see it getting to the point where these toxic people are making a bad name for a fandom that I’ve praised ever since I joined it hurts. It hurts a lot. Even writing this is making me really emotional.

Now. All of that said, I want to do my best to give you a light at the end of the tunnel.

I truly believe that the true SPN Family is still out there. Whether people liked the finale or not, the fans who are screaming at actors and hating on fans who did like the finale and running stars off of social media because of their opinions are not SPN Family members. They may be Supernatural fans, but they are not family. Because I still believe that the SPN Family is filled with kindness and goodness and love, and I know that there are those of us out there who are positive. But, unfortunately, toxicity is louder--the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

My hope, though, is that, down the line, it’s the positive legacy of this family that lives on. Because yeah, this all started because of a TV show, but it created something even bigger. And the people who are going to be surface level and hate on the show and the actors and the fans and everything because of the plot of the last few episodes don’t see the bigger picture, and, hopefully, by default, they won’t want to be a part of it.

But those of us who still appreciate everything this show created and everything it stood for--whether we liked the finale or not--know that just because the show ended the way it did doesn’t mean the legacy of the actors, characters, fandom, or anything in between has to change or go away.

The SPN Family has created something wonderful and beautiful. And yeah, our legacy looks a little tainted right now. But years from now, those of us who are truly members of the SPN Family--and not just the SPN fandom, because that’s an important distinction--will be able to keep that positive legacy going for years to come.

At least, that’s what I’m hoping.

I’ve thought about this a lot, and I’ve talked about it a lot, with a lot of people.

And while I know everyone acting up over Walker was recent, I do feel like, all things considered, the toxicity is calming down, to a degree, and I like to think that it’ll slowly just fade out--or, at least quiet down.

My hope is that, as the toxicity dies, the positivity will reign again, and everyone will slowly remember what this fandom should really be about--family and love.

Maybe this was too preachy, and maybe this isn’t even the type of thing you wanted to hear, but I hope that what I said gives you some comfort for a better future for this fandom--no, this family. It can be hard, with everything going on, but know that there are still positive people left. I’ve found several myself that I’ve latched onto to help me get through the negativity. And, in the end, love always wins. And family--true family--always has your back.

And, hey, in the wise words of Dean Winchester:

“A wise man once told me, 'family don't end in blood. ' But it doesn't start there either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them. Family's there; for the good, bad, all of it. They got your back, even when it hurts. That’s family.”

And that family is the one that’ll come out on top.

I know it. <3

Lots of love to my entire SPN Family. Hang in there. <3

#asks #personal #opinions #spn series finale #spn spoilers #carry on #supernatural #spn family #spn fandom #positivity #love #spread love #not hate #not an incorrect quote #still spn #and extremely important #<3

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fanartfunart · 4 years ago

Text

Fly Away

Episode 3: Despair Bear

Ao3 - First - 2

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. -Chloé, determined to be allowed back to visit Adrien’s house, and discovering Adrien is visiting Marinette, sets up a party to showcase just how nice she can be. (posted in full for tumblr while I have power/internet on my computer :P)

Duusu was sitting on top of Adrien’s shoulder when he pressed play on the virtual hello from the class he was almost able to join. Adrien handed him a dried mango chip and he happily munched on it.

Chloé, of course, was the first person to show up on the video, “Adrikins Hiii! I miss you already~”

The camera turned around to show Sabrina, who must’ve been recording. She waved “Hi!”

“Sabrinaaa, camera focused on me. Meee.”

“Oh, right!”

Chloé spent at least a third of the video showing him the building as if she owned it. ...Adrien was surprised it didn’t last longer.

It shifted from the single-take style into more professionally edited together clips of various classmates. Adrien assumed this was where the boy interested in filmmaking had taken over.

“Yo, I’m Nino, hope you get to hang out outside of school one of these days dude. If you ever need a DJ I’m your man! See you around someday!”

“Hi, I’m Alya, investigative journalist-”

Chloé scoffed offscreen, “You wish.”

“Chloé I will-” the video cut out whatever happened after that. Alya stood a bit prouder, “I run the Ladyblog and am the head of the school blog! If you ever have any curiosity about the school news or superhero news, just check those out! Leave some comments if you want and I’ll get back to you asap! Keep it classy."

The rest of the class’s videos went about the same, until the very last one. The girl from the bakery frowned at someone off to the side out of sight from the camera.

“Come on girl, before Chloé comes back.”

“Hi, I’m er, Marinette. I’m uh, an aspiring fashion designer and my parents own Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. I suggest trying out the macaroons! I brought some on the first day, uh, but I tripped so there weren't many left anyway so you probably didn’t miss anything!” She giggled awkwardly. She trailed off, giving a pleading look towards someone behind the camera. “Alya, I don’t know what else to say.”

“Whatever you’d say to a new kid!”

“Uhg, get better friends than Chloé?” She covered her mouth as Alya and Nino laughed from behind the camera. “I- mean whatttt Chloé's er, Chloé. Great evil-er friend… to er, to be setting up this videooo….ohmygosh. Can you edit that out?”

“I would’ve, but now I’m keeping it.” Nino said. Marinette gasped in offence while Alya and Nino giggled more.

“What are you all giggling over?” Chloé complained off-screen. Marinette gave a pointed look to the camera, and the video faded into a written message.

“Sorry I couldn’t properly finish my message. I wish you a wonderful year, and hope you can build great friendships, even without going to school. At least you don’t have to worry about being late! Good luck Adrien -Signed, Marinette.”

“Awwwwwwww, that’s sweet,” Duusu cried.

“Yeah, it was.” He got out his phone to text Chloé a thank you. He sighed as he looked at her many, many, many messages of upset about no longer being allowed over anymore. He was just glad she didn’t get akumatized over it….

He got up, glancing at Duusu. "How about we go visit the bakery and see if Marinette is open to hanging out. My father can't ban me from bakeries, right?"

Duusu giggled, "Sounds like fun!" He frowned, "Are you only choosing to visit Marinette because she has a good place to tell your father you're going to?"

"...No… She's just the only person in that video who mentioned a place I can visit at all."

Duusu just giggled like he knew something Adrien didn't. He shook his head with a smile and grabbed his bag. "Come on, let's go."

"Marinette," Sabine called, opening the trap door to Marinette's room. She waved to the group of girls doing a miniature fashion show there. "Your friend's here."

Marinette looked up from the blog post Alya was showing her, as the other girls continued to put on various jewelry pieces. "Who? I didn't ask anyone else to come over?"

"A boy named Adrien. I can tell him you're busy if you want me to."

"Adrien… Agreste?" Marinette tilted her head. He was Chloé's friend. The one that visited the bakery and fell/she pushed. Wait… he was also the guy who she made a feathered hat for who had a feather allergy wasn't he?! Why on earth would he want to visit her? Did he have some sort of ulterior motive? Was he Chloé's spy? Did he want revenge for the feathers?! "Er."

Alya, Rose, Juleka, and Myléne all oooh-ed at the same time.

"Oh hush. What uh, do you all think?"

Alya grinned "Good with me, girl. I wanna see how this plays out."

Rose nodded enthusiastically and Juleka gave a thumbs up.

Myléne smiled, adjusting her hat, "He's a professional model right? He probably could give us some tips!"

Marinette rolled her eyes, lowering her voice to a harsh stage-whisper, "He's Chloé’s friend."

"The one we made the video for, yep," Alya nodded, "Exactly my point. You said it yourself, he needs better friends than her." ….On the other hand, instead of a revenge-seeking spy, he could simply be that lonely sounding boy they made a video for, trying to escape the clutches of the evil Chloé. Marinette could be the only non-Chloé & minions person he knows! Marinette sighed heavily.

Sabine sighed softly, "Marinette… he's waiting downstairs. Yes or no."

"Okay! Okay. I'll go down and bring him up, I guess." Marinette trudged down, ignoring the giggling girls.

Adrien was wandering curiously around the bakery, hands politely behind his back. He noticed the door open and waved enthusiastically to Marinette. She squeaked and closed the door. Sabine raised a brow.

"You can always tell him you're busy."

"Nooo, it's fine." Marinette sighed and entered the room. Adrien’s confused head tilt turned into a smile. Like a… puppy. An incredibly patient puppy waiting for someone to play with him.

"Hi Marinette. I watched that video today! Thank you, it was really sweet of you guys to do that. I hope you don't mind me kinda just… showing up."

"Oh er… you're welcome. I was actually hanging out with some of the girls who helped make that."

"Oh! If you're busy-" He gestured awkwardly to the door.

"No, no, uh, we were just hanging out, you can join us."

He immediately perked up, "Cool! That sounds like fun!"

Marinette stared at him in his enthusiasm and nodded. "Come on up."

Adrien climbed up into the room, Marinette shortly after him. The group of girls all immediately hushed their conversation upon noticing them and dissolved into giggles.

He chuckled and waved, "Well hello. You all are wearing some lovely hats, is this a fashion show?"

"We're helping Marinette take photos for her Instagram." Myléne said.

"And future blog!" Alya added.

"They've been great models for me," Marinette smiled.

"Oh really? May I see some of the photos?" Alya handed him a phone immediately. He scrolled through some of the photos, nodding."These are great," he smiled and glanced at Marinette, "You made all these hats?"

Marinette nodded, giggling. Rose bounced over to Adrien, showcasing a necklace. "She makes jewelry too!"

"Those are lovely! You're really talented!" He gave Marinette a dazzling smile. She giggled and stuttered something, which was almost a thanks?

"Hey, you're like, a pro model, right?" Alya asked, "Do you mind helping us? Got some insider tips?"

"Oh, uh, sure!" Adrien smiled. It would be fun to help them. Probably more so than a regular photo shoot.

Chloé gasped at her phone. Her Adrien in a picture on Marinette's Instagram post? All squished in a group photo with her little squad?! Why is he hanging out with her!?

She called Adrien, anxiously tapping her nails against the back of the phone.

Adrien picked up and Chloé did not waste a precious minute. "Why are you at Dupain-Chang's?"

"Hello to you too, Chloé. I'm just hanging out. Marinette and her friends wanted some help with modeling her fashions."

"Humph, that ugly stuff? Far too kind of you to do that for her."

He sighed, "Maybe you could benefit from being a bit kinder, Chloé. It's not that hard."

She heard a few hushed whispers in the background over the line. She balked. "I- But why would your father let you visit her and not let me, your oldest friend, over!"

"Marinette didn't steal a book from my father's safe and get him upset enough to get akumatized." Adrien's voice was level. Gentle even. Chloé felt that was probably worse than any direct anger.

Marinette's voice in the background squeaked out "Chloé’s book belonged to your dad?!"

"Oh." Chloé muttered. "But actually Sabrina-"

"I don't care if you got Sabrina to do it or not. I care if you learn from this kind of stuff and become a bit more considerate," Adrien sighed, "Maybe if you showcase some better behavior my father might let you come back over more again. But until then, I can't do anything about it. Sorry."

"I…" Any defences or retorts died on her tongue.

Adrien waited a moment, "I gotta go Chloé. Talk to you later, okay? Goodbye."

"Goodbye...Adrien."

Adrien hung up and she plopped onto the couch, staring at the earlier text messages between her and Adrien.

Chloé blinked away tears.

Adrien sighed, turning towards the group of girls, "Sorry. My father kinda banned Chloé from coming over to my house and she's still… very upset about it…"

"She…" Marinette coughed, "Um. What was that about a book?"

"Chloé and Sabrina came over and uh, Sabrina got caught taking my father's book. It was important to him. Apparently they lost it… I was hoping they could find and return it and they'd be allowed back but…" He glanced at the floor and shrugged.

"Right. Right. And where did your dad get this book? Er… Maybe we can get a replacement?" She giggled awkwardly.

"I don't know. He didn't explain much about it." He waved a hand dismissively, "Anyway, you were uh, suggesting food?"

"Right!" Marinette cheered, "Shall we raid the kitchen? Maybe dad can teach us a good recipe and we can bake something like we were supposed to at school today." She opened the door and gestured for the group to file out downstairs.

"Yeah, before the fire alarm interfered," Alya said, walking down.

Rose took Julika's hand and they made their way down, Meline and Adrien not far behind.

Marinette waited for them to get out of earshot before whispering for Tiki to come out. She zipped out as Marinette grabbed her purse. "If Chloé got the book from Adrien's house, why did Adrien's father have the spellbook? He was akumatized so he can't be Hawkmoth right?"

Tiki shrugged helplessly, "You'll have to go over and ask him."

"Ugh, why is tracing down who had this book like a game of evil telephone?" Marinette groaned.

"Marinette, are you coming?" Myléne called.

"Oop! Be right there!" She opened her purse for Tiki to zip into it. She raced down the steps to catch up to her friends.

Jean-Claude arrived with chocolates and Chloé tearfully popped them into her mouth. He lingered despite his job being complete. "May I ask what has upset Mademoiselle?"

"Adrien doesn't wanna be my friend anymoreeee," She whined, "He's making new friends with other girls. How can he do this to me, Jean-Michel?"

"Uh, my name is- nevermind. Perhaps Mademoiselle can see comfort with Mr. Cuddly?" He offered the stuffed bear with a light flourish.

She gasped and grabbed the teddy bear, cuddling it close.

"If you don't mind my asking Mademoiselle, did he say why?"

"Something, something kindness and consideration." She waved a hand. She pouted. "What do I do Jean-Yves?"

"Perhaps Mademoiselle remembers Mr. Cuddly when she was a little girl and how he was always nice to Mademoiselle when she was a child?"

Chloé pursed her lips, eyes shiny, and nodded.

"Mr. Cuddly is always kind, even when it doesn't directly benefit him. But that has made him a very good friend. Perhaps, Mademoiselle can follow Mr. Cuddly's example and Adrien will see how good a friend Mademoiselle can be."

"Oh you're right Jean-Jacque, Adrien wanted me to show his dad I'm considerate, so I'll show him! Then I'll get my Adrikins back and he'll stop hanging out with Dupain-Chang! Er…. How...should I do that?" She giggled awkwardly.

Jean-Pierre sighed heavily, looking exhausted already.

Adrien was covered in flour and giggling about it. Juleka wasn't even halfway through a mumbled apology before he was forgiving her. Marinette wasn't sure how he was supposedly friends with Chloé in the first place. Was he mind controlled or something by her?

Alya slid next to Marinette and grinned "So, are we thinking friendly boy or boyfriend here?"

Marinette rolled her eyes and shook her head "I am not competing with Chloé over her infamous 'Adrikins'. Blegh."

"That wasn't a 'ew no' though~ You can't deny he's cute."

Marinette huffed, "Like, in a cute puppy way."

Alya snorted and nodded, "Fair enough."

The group's phones all pinged with the exception of Marinette's.

They each got out their phones. Adrien raised a brow. "Chloé's hosting a party?"

"Did you all get one?" Juleka asked, looking around at them.

Myléne nodded, "It looks like it. Maybe she's taking Adrien's advice and is gonna try to be nicer."

Marinette scoffed, "Please, it's probably some sort of joke or prank."

"Did you get an invite?"

Marinette looked at her phone and shook her head, "No…"

Alya chuckled, "Well that means it's real and not a joke, doesn't it, hm?

Marinette made a disgruntled face. Then her phone pinged, "Eeew! I got invited!" She threw her phone, then stumbled to catch it before it landed in the batter. Adrien stumbled and caught it for her. They crashed into each other, pinning Adrien between the counter and Marinette. She immediately backpedaled. He giggled awkwardly and handed the phone to her, stepping back out of her space.

"This is gonna be so much fun! There's gonna be dancing!" Rose looked up, smiling at Juleka.

"Wait, you guys aren't seriously considering going, are you?" Marinette squeaked.

"Why not?" Myléne muttered, shrugging, "Maybe she's really trying to be nice."

"Chloé? Nice?" She shook her head, "Eugh, whatever, you guys can go but count me out."

Adrien shrugged, idly fiddling with the dough. "I've known Chloé for a long time. She can be cool, sometimes, really." He looked up. ...Wait, did he have baby-doll eyes like Manon or something?! What is this sorcery? He smiled softly. "Maybe give her a chance, Marinette."

Marinette pursed her lips and sighed "Yeah, yeah, fine, I guess." Alya’s teasing smirk didn't help at all though.

Chloé had it all planned. She had set up a section for adults as well, having sent invites for some of the teens' parents. Namely, she needed Adrien’s father to see how great of a person she could be. Unfortunately the main person she wanted there...was not. But hey maybe this could work with word-of-mouth…. Parents talk to other parents about how nice random kids are, right?

So while the adults mostly stayed around the tables talking, the teens danced and played in the ball pit. Jean-Paul had been practically following her around with Mr. Cuddly, reminding her what Mr. Cuddly would do. But, Adrien was there! And! Adrien smiled at her! Every time she was nice! So the plan seemed to be working.

Until he left the dance floor to talk to Marinette and her friends. She barely contained her rage. Actually, she didn't contain it at all. Chloé abandoned her dance with Kim and started marching toward them.

"Oh, I do need to get some of your guys' phone numbers or something so I don't have to make surprise visits all the time," Adrien said, giggling awkwardly.

Alya nodded, "Yeah for sure, I'll give you Nino's number too, he's DJing-"

Chloé was so close to pulling Adrien away until Jean-George blocked her path.

"Mademoiselle if you-"

"Move, Jean-Marc!"

He pulled out Mr Cuddly, and spoke in a squeaky voice, "Oh, Chloé dear, Mr Cuddly is very proud of you-" Chloé gasped and tried to bat the teddy bear away.

"Is that your teddy bear Chloé?" Kim laughed, leading the traitorous group of teens.

Chloé gasped and pulled Jean-Louis into the kitchens.

"I've had it with you and your stupid advice! Ive had it with you, Jean-whatever your stupid name is!"

"Mademoiselle I was only trying to help."

"No more Mademoiselle, no more help, no more anything! You're fired!" She marched out, leaving Jean-??? clutching the teddy bear. Somewhere, a very patient Hawkmoth (who purposefully declined an invitation in a subtle attempt to make a teenage girl more frustrated and anxious and make a villain at her party eventually) grinned to himself.

Sabrina was just chilling, really. She'd helped set up the entire thing and now they'd much rather just sit and drink her juice. Just as content as Plagg with an extra piece of cheese.

Until a teddy bear clamped onto her leg.

Chloé utilized her excess frustration to pull Adrien away from Marinette. "Come on, we should dance."

"Right now? But, I was talking to-" Adrien half heartedly protested, already stumbling along.

"He doesn't have to go with you if he doesn't want to, you can't just drag him around," Marinette interrupted, grabbing Adrien's other arm.

"Chloeee," Sabrina called, brandishing a hair brush like a weapon, "Come here. Let me brush your hair. It won't hurt I promise."

"Don't you see I'm busy?" Chloé huffed. She tugged on Adrien's arm, except this time she got resistance. Adrien pulled his arm away, frowning at Sabrina.

"Uh, something's… wrong with Sabrina," he said.

Sabrina smiled, and leapt toward Chloé.

Marinette intercepted Sabrina, brows furrowed in determination and flipped her onto the ground. Adrien stared at her.

"Oh. Wow," He breathed out.

Sabrina blinked and sat up, "Huh? Why am I on the floor?"

Marinette frowned, looking around the room, "Er… you were… trying to attack Chloé."

Sabrina gasped and scrambled to a stand. "Ohno, I… I uh, I need to go." Sabrina anxiously smiled and then ran off.

"Me too actually… I, uh ...too much orange juice." Marinette ran off, leaving Adrien with- ….Where did Chloé go?

He glanced around, and found her swatting away… some kid Adrien didn't know. He was pretty sure they were in the video somewhere.

He frowned and glanced around, before running off to the stairwell.

Marinette shook her head as she hid in the bathroom stall, "Looks like Chloé upset someone. Guess it was only a matter of time. Tiki, Spots on!"

Sabrina raced into the kitchen, "Oh I can't believe I was just mind controlled by an Akuma. Poor Chloé!"

Plagg cackled in laughter, "You have the power of destruction and you were about to chase Chloé with a hair brush. I can't believe it."

They rolled their eyes, "That's definitely a good thing. Plagg, Claws out!"

Adrien closed the door to the stairwell, checking that no one was there. Duusu zipped out with a cheer, "You love Marinette!"

"I- what? I er-" He blushed and glanced to the side, "No I don't," his voice came out squeaky.

"Yes you do, I know it!" Duusu giggled, gesturing to himself, " Emotion Kwami." Duusu tilted his head, "Do you intend to tell her? How? Maybe a cute letter or something? Oh you two would be just so cute together! And we could have more fresh pastries!"

He sputtered and shook his head. "Focus Duusu. We need to help Chloé," Adrien said, fixing the brooch to the front of his shirt.

Duusu giggled more.

Adrien took in a deep breath, trying to calm his own blush. "Duusu, Spread my feathers!"

Ladybug and Féline Sombre were already there… Well that was fast.

"You finally showed up! What took so long!?" Chloé cried towards the two superheros, as she peered from her hiding spot behind a pillar. ...Or maybe it wasn't fast? Did Chloé call them or something? She has mentioned being their friend. Often. By the annoyance from Ladybug, he guessed she wasn't a very good friend if that was the case.

"What, not excited to see me?" Paon Lilas asked with a grin.

"Oh yeah you too." Chloé waved a hand, apparently having just noticed him. ...Paon really needed to work on some dramatic entrances.

Nino threw a CD disc towards Chloé and she shrieked.

Ladybug wrapped her yoyo around Chloé's leg, pulling her back and into the ball pit. Féline Sombre leaped up to restrain Nino.

Nino blinked in confusion, "Huh?"

"Oh, sorry," Féline Sombre let him go, looking for the teddy bear controlling people.

Another boy threw a chair towards Ladybug. "How about a game of flying chairs?" He taunted.

"Love to but," Paon kicked the chair away, landing in a wall, "shouldn't music be involved?"

Ladybug was grabbed from behind and she pushed Alya off, spinning around to find the teen reporter blinking in confusion.

A boy raised a table above his head, and Féline Sombre extended her staff to knock it out of his hands. Paon grabbed the table before it flew into any civilians and dropped it on the floor. "Careful kitty."

"Whoops... But, where'd he go?" Féline asked, turning around.

Ladybug looked around frantically, trying to find someone who was acting off. Paon Lilas grabbed her hand.

"What are you doing?" Ladybug tugged away. Paon pulled back, making her stumble forward. "Oh no."

"Ooo, pretty earrings." He made a swipe towards her earrings and she shoved him back, making him stumble.

"Knock it off, bird brain!" She exclaimed.

He growled and tried again with a punch. Féline Sombre vaulted in on her staff and kicked him back into a table.

Paon Lilas plucked a feather and grabbed a plastic spoon from the table.

A floating marionette rod was summoned. The strings wrapped Féline Sombre's arms and legs. They gasped as they were dragged forward towards Ladybug.

"Hey!" Ladybug cried, "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing this!" Féline shrieked. She threw a punch towards Ladybug, "Sorry!"

"Paws off kitty cat!" Chloé called, pushing Féline over.

"Thanks!" Ladybug called, "Lucky Charm!" And… got an over large crochet hook.

Paon Lilas growled and motioned his head, the senti-marrionetted Féline being flung back towards Chloé. He charged toward Ladybug.

Ladybug glanced between the marionette rod and the teddy bear. She grabbed a marionette string with the crochet hook Féline passed her and twirling the hook to properly tangle the string, threw it into a wall. The string snapped, giving Féline control of one of her hands.

"Féline," Ladybug called. Paon kicked her and she jumped back, "I need you to cut some strings soon!" Ladybug and Paon Lilas fought. She shielded, he swept her legs. He went in for a strike, she blocked.

"Sure thing, Bug," Féline raised a hand, summoning her destructive power, "Cataclysm!"

"Now, Chloé if you could be so kind-” She gestured to the captured marionette strings.

Chloé nodded, taking up the hook and diving for the teddy bear, catching a loop on its back. She tugged and threw it back to Féline Sombre. They touched the Akuma string with their Cataclysm.

Paon blinked as the Akuma was destroyed, halting a punch. He took in heavy breaths, stumbling back as a wave of fear hit him over the receding fog of mind control. "Ladybug? What are you doing?"

Fear was quickly replaced with relief and pride. Ladybug grinned, "Just saving your feathery hide with our new sidekick." She looked at Chloé.

"You haven't defeated me yet!" A small voice squeaked and kicked Paon Lilas in the chin.

"Watch your step!" Ladybug readied her yoyo to capture and purify the butterfly that was fluttering away.

"Can someone help me out here!?" Féline Sombre yelled. Paon glanced at the senti-monster strings attached to her feet and hand and then at the spoon he was carrying. His miraculous beeped. He snapped his fingers, pulling the amok from the spoon and dropping it.

Ladybug threw her crochet hook into the air, "Miraculous Ladybug!" The swarm of ladybugs returned everything in the room to normal. Ladybug and Féline Sombe high fived. Paon Lilas ran. Before either of them turned to look his way.

Ladybug turned, finding the other miraculous wielder missing. She sighed, "He flew off again."

Chloé cleared her throat.

Ladybug blinked and looked at her. "Oh. Er, thanks for helping me back there…. It was very nice of you."

Chloé smiled, dusting off her jacket, "It was, wasn't it? Did you hear that, Jean-Pascal?! If Ladybug says I'm nice then Adrien and his dad have to believe it!"

"...Mademoiselle I must admit I have no memory of what just happened."

"Basically you turned evil and I saved you. Without me the superheros probably never would have succeeded." Chloé explained.

Both Ladybug's and Féline Sombre's miraculous' beeped.

"Gotta go," Ladybug said, running up the stairwell to the roof.

"Same here," Féline said, giving a polite nod to Chloé and Jean-Something. She ran out the doors.

"Hm. Maybe some of this nice-stuff of yours makes some sense….. Jean-Baptiste, I've decided to keep you on. Don't let the guests all run away, they don't wanna miss what's next!"

Jean-Pierre nodded "Thank you, Mademoiselle, I will Mademoiselle."

Adrien sighed as he watched Marinette finish her macaroons. He was too tired to make his own. He sat in a chair to avoid any sudden dizzy spells, resting his head on the table.

Chloé slid next to him, looping her arms around his shoulders. "Sooo Adrikins, I'm really nice now, did you notice? I even let Marinette's dad finish teaching everyone how to make those messy macaroons."

He pulled his attention from Marinette and nodded. "Yes, it's very nice of you." He smiled a little. She frowned…. Usually smiling causes the opposite response.

"Ugh, what's wrong? You're not like, super happy. I did everythingggg."

"Oh uh," he glanced at Marinette again, before looking back at Chloé, "It's nothing."

Chloé followed his glance and pouted, "Did she say mean things to you? Do I need to tell her her macaroons are appalling or something?"

"No! No. Please no. We just talked about being nice."

"Oops! Right…. Wait. You don't like her do you?"

He blushed and looked away, shrugging.

Chloé gasped, "Nooo! Ughhh, why couldn't you fall in love with someone unattainable? Like Ladybug or somebody."

"Huh?" Adrien crinkled his nose, "What?"

"Nothing~ Fine, fine. We're still best friends forever right though?"

He huffed a smile and nodded, "Yeah, Chloé, best friends forever."

"Pinky swear?" She held out her pinky in front of him and he linked their fingers.

"Pinky swear."

She let out an exhale of relief, "Okay, make sure to tell your dad I'm the best influence ever now."

Adrien giggled and nodded, "Sure. I'll try."

"Perfect. You promised," She grinned and waltzed over to the bakers and began listing off what was wrong with their goods. Pausing at Marinette, she glanced at Adrien and simply passed her by without a word…. Marinette seemed offended anyway.

Adrien shook his head. Oh, that didn't cause spots in his vision. Good. Satisfied with the conclusion the worst of the battle weariness had passed, he got up to see if Marinette might share some of those cookies. Then, if he had the energy, repair some of Chloé’s emotional damage.

#fanfic #ml fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupen chang #Chloé Bourgeois #sabrina raincomprix #black cat!sabrina #peacock!adrien #miraculous swap #fly away fic #fanart's fanfic #apparently I cant help myself but post the entire thing #lol

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mrvdocks · 4 years ago

Text

Nightcall P.1

Request/Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night.

After

The flurry of phones ringing off the hook and background noise felt foreign to you, it was just a buzzing in your ear. You pulled the safety blanket around you closer, grabbing it in fistfuls. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it feels like hours. The fluorescent in the room probably only made you look even worse for wear than you were hours before, but it didn’t matter now. In a span of 24 hours, your life had changed.

The guarded door opened and an officer pulled up a chair in front of you, dropping photos of the gruesome scene you’d seen firsthand. She slides the photos closer, her thumb obscuring the killer’s face. You didn’t need to see it a second time.

“You were found in the residence of Mr. Kunkle, with one Jessie Adams and a John Doe, who seems to have been the victim of Mr. Kunkle’s spree amongst others.”

Even his name brings chills down your spine.

“I already told the police everything.” You say groggily, your throat still sore from the whole ordeal.

“Yes, but there seems to be some doubt on your partnership with Mr. Kunkle. Footage, eyewitness accounts,” she’s studying you no doubt. Any sort of tick or movement you made without thought that could somehow lead her to think you were lying about anything you had explained earlier.

“What was your relationship with Mr. Kunkle?” She pries, bringing multiple photos of Kurt to be splayed out in front of you. Some good, some bad, some….disturbing.

“I - none. He just knew me through the socials.”

“And you were also the target of his mania.” There’s something unsettling in how much she’s liking interrogating you. You ignore it.

“You think it’s my fault he did this.”

It was not your fault. None of this was. Kurt was just too power hungry. Maybe you were too trusting. You didn’t want to see Kurt for what he really was until it was too late.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but your compliance does seem suspicious.”

“I-I didn’t know him very well. He was just my Spree driver for a day. But he was always nice to me.”

“He was also your kidnapper.”

“Like I said, he was a nice guy.” Your voice breaks.

They’re all nice guys until they aren’t.

“And you didn’t think to call the authorities when you were alone? Were you helping him lure these people?”

You can feel her eyes burning into you.

“I’m not stupid,” you cry. “I know how this sounds. But I’m telling you, he gave me a ride and then he - all of this. Oh God.”

You bring your shaky hands to run through your worn and tired face, specks of dried blood still prominent even through many washes with soap. It’s another way Kurt managed to stay with you.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” she sits back with her arms folded. “And spare no detail.”

Before

He scrolls through your feed for the millionth time today.

Photos of you on your daily walks, exploring hidden LA gems, posting places you were shooting at, people you were hanging out with, all at the touch of a button for him. The bell notification alerts him, telling him that you’ve posted. He taps the screen in the blink of an eye, meeting your face as you giggle about falling while skating.

You pout as you show the damage, remarking that it was lucky you weren’t shooting that day otherwise you would’ve had to cover up on such a hot day.

In a vain industry, you try to keep yourself humble and that’s what he loves about you. Though he’s never met you, he thinks you could live up to the image he’s created of you. One that matches your optimistic and humorous one.

He re watches your story, pausing at random moments where he screenshots and saves to his photos. His home screen is a shot of you in black and white, seemingly topless from chest down and looking back with an enticing smile. He loves the way your hair frames your face, the way pieces of it were meticulously picked out to give it a sort of messy look.

You could make anything look good, he thinks.

Bobby gives him a hard time about you, bragging about how he knows you and that although you’re more well known than he is, you are the one who should be grateful for his exposure.

Kurt thinks it’s bullshit but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, maybe you’d come around to meet him one day.

The vibration of a text brings him out of his daze, seeing Bobby’s name in big bold letters.

He can’t believe his eyes when he opens the text. It’s an off guard video of you behind Bobby, giggling at something on your phone before noticing that he’s recording and flashing a cheeky smile and a peace sign.

“Found your girlfriend.” Bobby mocks before erupting into hysterical laughter.

Kurt replays it until his phone dies, Bobby’s words echoing in his head.

An idea pops into his head, it would be difficult if he didn’t know your exact routine but thanks to your fan accounts and the power of gossip blogs, it’s a definite success.

He calls Bobby immediately, hearing him and his entourage in the background as they talked about a video idea.

“What do you want, Kurt? I’m busy right now.” His annoyance is clear but Kurt is way too focused on you to notice.

“I need a favor.”

It’s amazing what the internet contains about a person. It’s also quite terrifying. Through just a few minutes of research, he’s found out your schedule along with where you went to school, where you live and your closest friends.

In a photo Bobby had taken, the location of the next shoot you had taking place somewhere was barely visible.

He connects the dots, thinking about how your involvement could help him get #TheLesson out and make him a household name.

And it’s exactly what he does the day of. He parks near your neighborhood, foot bouncing and anxiously looking at his phone. He declines the others in hopes of finding you according to the schedule. You almost never use your real name on anything when going out but he recognizes your fake name and location, he puts the car into drive and talks himself up.

He parks across the street, giving him a better view of you.

His heart skitters when he sees you look in his direction, your brows quirk up as you give him an easy smile and cross carefully.

You stop and bend to meet him at the passenger window, “Kurt, right?”

His name coming out of your mouth is something he’s dreamed of since he first saw you. He almost pinches himself to know if this is real.

He knows he’s grinning like an idiot because you laugh at his speechlessness.

“Sorry,” he motions to the backseat, “Hop in!”

“I take it you know who I am.”

You’re not oblivious to your recognition, but with some guys it was just always a hit or miss. They either wanted you to take your top off or asked for some weird things.

“Are you kidding? I’m like your biggest fan.” He beams, going back on the road.

You’re not good at accepting compliments, so all you can manage is a shy smile and a, “Thanks!”

You notice his set up of cameras and ask him about it, to which he says they’re just for protection. Throughout the ride you learn more about him, particularly that he was going something the next day called The Lesson. He had a very particular view about this digital world you both lived in, talking about these odd jobs he’d been doing along with trying to build up his following. In between talking about himself, he mentions Bobby and the events of last night from the video.

“Oh right, Bobby.” You roll your eyes at the mention of his name.

Bobby was a pain in your ass sometimes, acting all high and mighty all the time and just like he was the overall shit.

“Yeah he’s alright. He could just tone it down a little.”

“Oh yeah - definitely, he was the same when he was a kid. Just pure chaotic energy.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

In between other conversations, Kurt brought back the spotlight to you, asking you about different people you hung out with. It was pleasant conversation, you felt like you were talking to an old friend and letting off some steam. The red flags hadn’t gone off just yet.

To let loose and make you live a little, Kurt races past a red light and nearly misses being in a collision.

It startles you but he assures you there’s no danger.

“You trust me right?” He asks, glancing back to you.

“I mean, yeah.”

The confirmation is validation to him. It’s all he needed to begin.

He picks up another passenger, an older man who definitely did not hide the way he was staring at your body. You’re thankful for sitting a little father from him but when Kurt initiates conversation with him, everything goes downhill.

“I know you from somewhere.” The man points out, his obvious staring makes you cringe as you stay silent.

“You’re that model, I’ve seen your stuff around Westwood. Bangin’ body.”

You can feel the anger in your chest rise as Kurt finally notices.

“What’s going on?” He glances to the back, meeting your shifting eyes.

The man ignores him. “Sweetheart when someone compliments you, the nice thing to do is smile.”

That did it.

“Excuse me? I don’t owe you shit!” You grit.

“Whoa! Whoa! Sir you can’t be saying that anymore.” Kurt changes lanes, ready to stop if the situation gets worse.

“She should be proud she doesn’t look like her people. All of ‘em just fat and lazy.”

“Excuse me?! My people?” You’re sure you don’t look the least bit intimidating but it doesn’t matter. You were willing to kick this man’s ass if need be.

Kurt pulls off the the side of the road, “Alright, get out.”

“What? No, I paid for this ride fair and square. I’m not leaving for shit. I can say what I want.” He says adamantly.

“Sir if you make those comments again I’m going to have to cancel the Spree.”

Something clicks in Kurt’s head as he remembers the water bottles.

He motions for you to take the passenger seat which you do without much hesitation.

Kurt waits a minute before merging again, glancing at the man every so often and taking more desolate streets. You don’t notice the absence of cars and you definitely don’t notice when the man takes a bottle and practically chugs it.

Kurt smirks as he slows down. “Hey maybe you should let them know you’re not going to make it.”

Confused, you glance at Kurt and then at the man who’s now starting to grab at his throat and coughing violently.

Your eyes widen as you attempt to get Kurt to stop the car but he doesn’t move, instead he keeps his eyes trained on the road.

“Kurt, stop the car.”

The man’s coughs get worse by the second and he turns a very bright red.

“Kurt! Stop the car!”

You’re frozen, helpless to watch the man as he tries to grab at Kurt from behind but coughs up blood and passes out in the backseat. You slink back in your seat, utterly terrified of what just happened.

Adrenaline and fear course through you. You side eye Kurt who is not as affected by this as you are as he merely readjusts his camera.

You begin to hyperventilate and try the passenger door. When it doesn’t budge you shut your eyes and cry.

“I won’t say anything. I won’t I promise. I promise, Kurt. Please.”

Kurt sighs as he retrieves a piece of cloth from his pocket. Your eyes widen as he comes close and pins you in your seat and smothers you with the cloth. You struggle under him, pushing against his chest to no avail.

The smell of the chloroform inundates your senses and in a matter of seconds you feel your eyes roll back and everything go black.

Once you’re knocked out, Kurt takes both your phone and the other passengers to knock suspicion off of him. He has plans for the racist prick in the back, but for you, he has much bigger plans.

#kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x reader #spree #haha i'm not dead just suffering from writers block

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