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soluversworld · 20 days ago

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BACKSTAGE SECRET ! - KIER X G.N READER

This game is called backstage Infatuation! This game is so underrated. So, I will doing some one-shots, because I love the characters!!

Genre: Fluff

Summary: — Backstage, you lost your bracelet, Kethan gifted you! Don't worry, There's someone to help you!

( Reader is a g.n!)

Content Warning : Yandere themes

Did not proof read/Rushed.

You were there.

Wrapped in a too-thin coat, media pass clutched between chilled fingers, lens cap off and camera ready. The cold bit at your ankles, but you barely noticed. Not when tonight mattered so much. Not when it was LUXE’s comeback debut—and Kier’s first solo single release.

The press line was chaos: journalists elbowing for position, flashes flaring like lightning, muttered complaints fogging in the air. Everyone wanted to be the first to capture them all.

You weren’t supposed to be in this area. Technically, your badge said “general coverage.” But you’d arrived before sunrise, staked out the best possible angle, and refused to budge. If anyone asked, you were supposed to be here. This was going to be one of the biggest shows of the year… right?

You flipped through the concert pamphlet for the hundredth time, fingertips numb but careful not to crease the page.

Oriel: dignified, dazzling. Min: cool, collected. Kier…

Your eyes paused on him. His picture was radiant. Almost too perfect. Hair falling in sleek strands over sharp cheekbones. A slight smirk—arrogant, maybe—but only if you didn’t know better.

You did know better. You’d seen him before that—offstage. With no stylists, no cameras. Just Kier, buying two caramel lattes and an absurdly bitter iced americano like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You hadn’t forgotten. Actually, you'd brought a caramel latte today, too. Warm, still tucked in your coat pocket, for yourself!

Were you friends?

He did tell you to think like that.

But could a fan and an idol really be… anything real? Like friends?

He’s up there. Ethereal. Shining. Beautiful. You’re… you.

You smiled to yourself anyway, lips chapped from the wind. Sam was going to freak when you told her about this. Minji had been kind enough to let you off early from work—a miracle.

"I wonder what his single will be like?" you murmured, heart fluttering. "I can’t wait."

And just as the excitement bubbled in your chest, your stomach made a dramatic protest.

You groaned softly. “Seriously? Now?” You doubled slightly. “God… I knew I shouldn’t have let Kethan talk me into that second round of dumplings…”

You bolted for the restroom the second you found an opening—half-jogging past camera rigs and stacks of cables, muttering half-apologies to the tech crew and other reporters. Your stomach churned like a traitor. Of all the times…

You got your business done in record time, hands barely dry as you burst back into the hallway, still holding onto your press pass like it might anchor you to this timeline.

But as you rounded the corner—slam.

You collided with someone. Full force. Something clattered. You went down like a folding chair.

"Aiiyo—!" the woman beneath you yelped. A mop bucket sloshed, something wet hit your shoe, and you realized with dawning horror you had flattened the poor cleaning lady.

"Oh my god—I’m so sorry—!"

You scrambled up, brushing off your pants with shaky hands, cheeks burning.

She blinked at you from the floor, visibly unharmed, just startled. “You okay?”

“I—uh—yeah. Yeah. Totally fine,” you managed, voice tight with embarrassment.

She gave a breathy chuckle, waved you off, and walked away muttering something about “young people with ants in their pants.” You nodded dumbly, offered another apology to her retreating back, and turned to fix your jacket.

That’s when your stomach dropped again—but for a different reason this time.

Your wrist felt bare.

You looked down.

The bracelet. The bracelet.

“Shit.”

Your eyes widened. Not the bracelet you’d been wearing casually for months, not some accessory. No—the one Kethan gave you yesterday. The one he dramatically claime

You had laughed. It had fit weirdly well. You hadn’t taken it off since.

You scanned the floor in panic. Nothing.

You crouched low, heart hammering, crawling slightly as you peered beneath the mop cart, near the baseboards, under your own boots. Nothing. Not even a shimmer.

“No, no, no…” you whispered, biting your lip. You retraced your steps toward the hallway where you’d sprinted earlier, eyes darting to the corners, past spilled mop water and the distant sound of the opening act starting. No time. If you waited any longer, the concert would start and you’d lose your spot in the media pit.

But the bracelet—damn it,

"I got this for you. During I was-."

Fuck you! Y/n!

Luckily, the backstage area was quite small, and you found the janitor's closet in no time. Lost things had to be kept here, right? That was your best bet.

You reached for the doorknob. Locked.

You sighed, stepping back and scanning the hallway again. No janitor. No bracelet. You weren’t giving up just yet.

You started checking corners, crouching behind crates of lighting equipment, peeking under utility carts. You thought it would be a five-minute detour.

But half an hour passed, and you were still no closer.

Your anxiety was scraping at your throat, panic starting to edge in, when—

Knock knock.

A voice from outside. Male. Calm. Curious.

"Anyone in there?"

Your brain malfunctioned.

"Nope!"

You absolute idiot.

"I mean—WAIT—"

Too late.

The door burst open.

And someone stepped in.

"K-Kier?!"

Kier immediately held a finger to his lips. "Shush. Keep it down."

You blinked. Twice. "What are you doing here? Shouldn’t the concert be starting soon?"

He looked over his shoulder, then back at you, hair slightly mussed, eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them.

"I’m just... hiding," he muttered. "My assistant won’t shut up. I know he’s doing his job, but the nagging is driving me insane."

You stared at him. This was weird. Kier—The Moon Prince—just slipped backstage to... hide?

Something was off. He was talking fast. Fidgeting.

"Kier, are you okay?"

He paused. Looked away. Then back again with a gentle smile.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Yes?"

He hummed a soft tune. Low, delicate, threading through the silence between you. You didn’t recognize it, but it made your shoulders relax a little.

"Is that part of your single album?" you asked. "It’s good. Really good."

He smiled, a little lopsided. "You think so? I feel a bit better, then. I just hoped you’d really like it."

You tilted your head. "By 'you', you mean your fans?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, you said you were a fan too."

Then he stuck his tongue out at you.

You blinked. Blushed. "Oh—shit. Sorry."

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. The tension in your chest melted just a bit.

Kier glanced around the cramped closet space with a skeptical eye. “So... what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out there with the others, cheering like a proper fan?”

You laughed, a little too loud. Nervous. “I, uh... lost something. A bracelet. It was a gift.”

At that, the teasing edge in his voice dulled. “Important?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Kethan gave it to me yesterday. It’s dumb, but—”

“Not dumb,” Kier cut in, his gaze surprisingly sharp. “It matters to you. So it matters.”

Before you could even thank him, he clapped his hands once with mock drama. “Alright then. Operation Rescue Sparkly Thing is a go.”

You blinked. “That’s seriously the name we’re going with?”

He glanced at you sideways with a grin. “Don’t sass your rescuer.”

He crouched down and began scanning the dim floor under a metal shelf, muttering under his breath, “...if I were a bracelet, where would I hide? Maybe under some lost dignity…”

You crouched beside him. The space was cramped, filled with wires, old props, and dust, the air sharp with disinfectant.

“Thanks, Kier. You really don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His voice was soft this time, no teasing. Just truth. It made something squeeze warm and tight in your chest.

You both kept searching in silence, eyes scanning every shadow. At one point, Kier pointed toward the tablet you’d dropped earlier.

“You checked under that?”

You waved it off. “I did. I swear, it’s not there—”

“Humor me.”

You sighed and moved to lift the tablet. You both leaned in at the same time, reaching—and didn’t notice how close you’d gotten until—

Thump.

Your shoulders bumped, then your hands, and then—Kier’s balance tilted forward. In the most embarrassing, slow-motion moment imaginable, he fell.

Right on top of you.

You landed flat on your back with a soft “oof,” the air rushing out of your lungs. Kier didn’t hit you hard, but his weight was unmistakable, his body flush against yours.

His face was hidden in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You froze.

“I—I’m so sorry!” you blurted, trying to sit up, but his hand pressed gently against your side.

“Wait.”

That was all he said. Just wait.

So... you did.

For a heartbeat, maybe two, maybe more, he stayed there. His breath slow. His voice low, nearly a whisper.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled, the words barely making sense. “Like... caramel.”

You didn’t catch the flicker in his eyes as he slowly pushed himself up. You didn’t see the sudden heat, the way his pupils had dilated, that half-mad glint he tried to blink away too late...

You only saw the soft smile he wore when he looked down at you.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Peachy.” He stood and held out a hand. You took it.

Still no sign of the bracelet.

You both went back to searching.

Kier crouched beside you, trailing his fingers lazily over the floor, but you were the one truly focused—moving crates, lifting wires, mumbling to yourself. “Ugh, it must’ve fallen when I tripped on that mop. God, I’m such a klutz…”

He hummed. Low. Noncommittal.

“...It’s just—Kethan gave it to me, you know? My best friend since forever... He came back a few weeks ago, He gave it to me...." You laughed.

Kier froze.

You didn’t notice. Still talking. Still smiling.

“We used to build little cardboard forts after school, pretend we were superheroes.. Said he’d be ‘Magma Boy’ and melt anyone who messed with me.”

You didn’t see it—how Kier’s shoulders tensed. How his gaze dropped, no longer scanning the floor,with such intensity it might’ve burned a hole clean through.

Kethan.

He hadn’t said a word yet, and that wasn’t like him.

“Kier?” you asked, still grinning. “You okay?”

“Mm.” His voice came tight, but practiced. Still smooth. Still sweet. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He stood. A slow, precise movement.

You blinked up at him. “You sure?”

He smiled down at you. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“That bracelet,” he said softly. “It really means that much to you?”

“Of course,” you said without hesitation. “It’s from Kethan.”

Kier tilted his head, like a curious cat. His hands were in his coat pockets now. One foot slightly forward. Blocking your exit.

You didn’t notice.

Not yet.

"That nickname," he echoed, voice low. Too low. “Magma Boy.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Dumb, right?”

“Hilarious.” The smile widened. “So… are you close?”

You blinked. “What, with Kethan? Yeah, of course. He’s my—” You were still searching..

Kier took a slow, deliberate step forward.

“He’s your what?”

“...My friend,” you said, laughing nervously. “My best friend.”

Kier nodded. Just once.

“Right.”

His voice was smooth now. Velvet over a blade. Carefully controlled. He didn’t want to scare you.

Not yet.

But inside, the thoughts spiraled.

HE tries to take you.

From him.

Even before he had you.

And still—still—you kept smiling about someone else.

He could melt people, huh?

How cute.

Kier leaned down, brushing invisible dust from your sleeve with gentle fingers. His eyes met yours—warm, blue beautiful.

And yet—

"Don’t worry," he murmured. "I’ll help you find it. I’m very good at finding things…”

His fingers lingered.

His voice dropped an octave.

“…and keeping them.”

You dusted off your knees, still crouching as you scanned the floor, and glanced through the cracked door toward the faint thrum of the crowd outside.

“Sheesh,” you muttered. “The fans are really out there in full force tonight.”

Kier shifted beside you, standing straighter as he peeked through the door too. “I’m honestly surprised this many showed up,” he murmured. “It’s windy as hell out there. Felt like my ears were gonna freeze off earlier.”

You smiled. “Well, that’s fans for you. fans especially. Rain, snow, war—they’ll still show up.”

He chuckled, soft. “I guess that’s what 'fan' means, huh? Fanatic.”

“Yeah,” you said, pulling your coat tighter. “But it doesn’t always have to mean crazy. Just… passionate.”

Kier’s expression shifted—just slightly. “I’m happy to be on stage again,” he said, voice lower now, slower.

You nodded, but caught the flicker in his eyes.

“…But?” you prompted.

“…But I hate those."

You blinked.

He didn’t elaborate immediately, so you tilted your head. “Did something happen?”

Kier’s gaze drifted toward the far wall, as if he were looking into a memory instead of the dim backstage space.

“During our first interview as LUXE,” he said slowly, “we were in this tiny studio. Three chairs. One little lamp above us. We were just rookies. I looked up, and something felt off.”

You stayed quiet, listening.

“The bulb in the lamp was tinted weird. When I looked closer, I realized it wasn’t just a bulb. There was a lens in it. A camera. Hidden. Filming us.”

You straightened a little. “I heard about that—”

“My members were answering questions, laughing, totally unaware. So I pretended to take selfies. Tilted my phone just right. Took a few shots of the lamp.”

Kier’s jaw tightened.

“That’s when Aurora Rising Records stepped in. Replaced the entire staff team. Turned out one of the production staff was actually a fan. In disguise. Pretending to work there, just to spy on us.”

You stared at him.

“That’s… awful.”

He looked back at you then.

And smiled.

But there was something quieter about it. Not fake. Just… weathered.

“I hate crazy fans,” he repeated. “But it’s not just that. The way they want to own you. Break pieces off of you. Call it love.”

You didn’t know what to say.

Until he looked at you again—and that smile shifted. Softened.

“…But you,” he said.

Your stomach fluttered. “Me?”

“You never screamed at me,” he said plainly. “Never shoved a phone in my face. Never begged me for anything.”

You flushed, mouth opening—closing.

“Every time I saw you,” he continued, “you were just… quiet. Present. Kind.”

He reached out, brushing a loose thread off your sleeve. His fingers were gentle.

“You treated me like a person,” he said. “Even though you’re a fan… you’re a real one. A gen one. The kind people forget exist.”

You blinked. “Kier, I…”

Your voice caught.

He smiled again—this time, soft and warm. Like moonlight instead of stage lights.

“Thank you,” he said. “For that.”

You looked down at the dusty floor, eyes beginning to sting.

You didn’t get it.

Why did things like this always happen?

It was just a bracelet—but it wasn’t just a bracelet. Kethan gave it to you.Who always remembered things when no one else did. He’d given it to you yesterday-

Now it was gone. Your chest hurt just thinking about it.

“…Hey.”

You looked up.

Kier was watching you, the playfulness gone now—replaced with something quieter. Something… concerned.

“I’ll let my staff know,” he said gently. “We’ll find it. I promise.”

You stared at him. The stage was probably about to start any minute. He shouldn’t even be back here.

“But the show—”

“There’s still a few minutes.” He tilted his head. “Let me help, alright? I’ll get them on it.”

Your throat closed up a little. You hated being seen like this. Teary-eyed. Small.

You didn’t know what else to do—so you reached into your coat and pulled out the warm paper cup you'd forgotten you were even holding.

The caramel latte. The one you'd bought for yourself. The one you almost wanted to give him… just in case you saw him.

You shoved it toward him with both hands.

He blinked, surprised. “...What’s this?”

You kept your face straight. “You helped me. I wanted to thank you.”

He just stared at the cup.

“There’s nothing mixed in it,” you added flatly. “Just.."

He burst out laughing—eyes crinkling, face flushing a soft pink. He took it from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“...It’s my favorite drink,” he said quietly, smiling like you’d handed him something sacred.

You blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You remembered that?”

“No,” you admitted. “But I’ll remember it now.”

He looked at you—really looked at you—and then took a long sip from the latte.

When he lowered the cup, something about him seemed looser. Warmer.

“Thanks,” he said, voice smooth. “I feel a lot better now.”

Seeing him smile, made you smile too..

Kier stared at you for a moment, then without warning, pulled you into a hug.

It wasn’t brief, either.

His arms circled around your shoulders with warmth and a kind of desperate gentleness, like you were something he was afraid to let go of. You stiffened for a second—caught off guard—but quickly melted into it.

“I feel better too,” you whispered into his chest.

You felt him exhale against the crown of your head, a little softer this time.

When you finally pulled away, you smiled, still a little dazed. “Thank you, Kier. Seriously.”

He only nodded, eyes unreadable. That soft smile back on his lips.

You stepped away, turning to leave before you could overthink it. The hallway echoed with your retreating steps.

Idols are human too, you thought. Not just distant, glowing stars on stage. They get tired. They get frustrated. They hide in janitor closets and complain about assistants. They drink lattes and help search for lost bracelets and… they hug.

From now on, you promised yourself, you'd treat idols better.

Not like gods. Not like dolls.

Like people.

Like him.

You disappeared around the corner.

Meanwhile, back in the cramped space of the janitor’s closet, Kier exhaled slowly.

His shoulders dropped.

Then his fingers reached into the pocket of his oversized jacket.

There it was. The bracelet.

That thing.

His expression warped—dark, twisted, flat with disdain. That cursed trinket—tacky, mismatched, with a fraying cord and an ugly little bead in the shape of a cartoon skull.

He gave you this?

His jaw clenched. His lips curled into something cruel.

He remembered how you looked while talking about Kethan—laughing softly, eyes gleaming with memory. It burned. It burned.

You were his muse. His light. His obsession. Not Kethan’s. Not anyone’s. You had no idea what you did to him—how deep you'd sunk into him. Into his skin, his veins, his voice.

Ugly. Cheap. It doesn’t suit you.

It burned him just to imagine it on your wrist. Something from him. Some other boy. Some fool who thought he could mark you with a trinket.

He could get something way more expensive or pretty....

Still staring at the bracelet, Kier crouched. Placed it on the floor like a delicate relic.

Then stood.

And drove his boot down hard.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

He hated it.

The crunch of cheap beads and snapped cord echoed like tiny bones.

He smiled, expression pitch-black and wild under the soft closet light.

“Mine,” he muttered, voice venom-laced silk.

You’re my muse. My only one. You have no choice.

I will claim you.

The broken shards glittered at his feet.

And Kier—Kier smiled again. Beautiful. Chilling.

The stage lights began to rise.

Time to put on a show. For the fans. For the world. But mostly… For you.

#backstage infatuation #backstage infatuation kier x reader #Kier x reader #Kier #yandere visual novel #yandere x reader #BackstageInfatuation_VN

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cxsmiicc · 5 months ago

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dead broke and broken hearted - dragons pov

unfinished and i dont plan on finishing it (at least anytime soon im crazy busy) but @hahnspoetry wanted it so here u go bestie

1.1k, goes with the other pov which is buried somewhere on here or on my ao3, direct link to story in title

wlw, lesbian sex, vaginal fingering, false identity, a shoe breaks that def happened, mistress kink sort of, rough sex, grinding (copied these from the other pov so may not be fully accurate)

Muscles you didn’t even know you had ached as you trudged back to the inn, feet scarcely leaving the ground and shoulders dropping lower with every step, exhaustion set deep into your bones. The dreary building was hardly anyones dream home, but at least it was warm. And the rent was… negotiable. Passing through the gate with no hassle thanks to the late hour, you sped up somewhat at the sight of a flicker in your window. It was too steady to be coming from one of the handheld lanterns the local looters favoured, yet too faint for someone to be waiting to talk to you. That left one option, and the thought had you slowing back down again, conserving what little energy you had left.

One black leather boot crunched into the gravel harder than it should’ve and you saw the sole peel away from the rest of the shoe, cursing loudly and earning a filthy look from a washerwoman working overtime. If tonight went as hoped, a new pair would be easily obtained. You finally reached the door after what felt like an age of walking, pausing to take a breath before pushing hard on the wood and biting back a grin at the sight awaiting you.

The landlord, or landlady rather, was exquisite. Especially in her current state, so clearly through with the days work yet letting it show rather than taking the minute required to run a brush through her hair. No, she knew what drove you crazy by now and ensured that it was all she showed to you. Ever so slightly unkempt, what remaining clothes she wore crumpled and long dark hair flying madly about her face, she lounged against the stack of pillows on your bed armed with a smirk that loosened your corset ties then and there. Beautiful beyond comprehension.

“You put in for an extra week.”

Reaching down to remove your now broken boots, you let her voice wash over you, accent so different from your own and intoxicating in its allure. Tugging one ankle free, you tipped your head back to ask her, “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Mmmm, shouldn’t be,” she reached up, both stretching and giving you time to think, “Provided you continue being so timely with payments.”

Both feet now free, you tossed the useless shoes aside and made your way to the bed.

“I wouldn’t dream of being late, my lady,” You told her, punctuating the address with a sickening smile, honey laced with cyanide.

“Enough of these games.”

Even while you were a ways away from the bed, some invisible force drove you forward until her lips found yours. Her kiss was violent, explosive, and you needed it more than the air you so sorely missed. Somehow you wound up pressed against the sheets, Selene atop you with her hands desperately working at the many fastenings of your outfit. The kiss finally broke when she dragged your shirt over your head, corset lying underneath you with every pin undone.

“How you do that so fast I will never understand, it takes me years to get in and out of it.”

The smirk was back as she moved onto the lower portion of your dress, made easier by the lack of petticoats.

“I’d be more than happy to assist, but I fear I’d be reluctant to see it put back on.”

Skirts now around your ankles, she could see precisely how much her words affected you and simply groaned at the visible wet patch on your underthings and dragged them off of you. Now that you were bare and at her mercy, she moved to straddle you before pausing and panning her fingertips over your sides, admiring all that was hers. For you were hers, that much was never in doubt. Everything there was about your body, she knew, and every instrument possible of pleasing you she was a maestro of.

Getting restless, you went to grab her hands, beg her to do something, but she caught onto the attempt and pinned you down, leaning over you as she did so, raven hair tickling your chest.

“No. You will wait, and if I decide that you deserve it you shall get something, but not before I am sated. Do you understand?”

Your voice caught in your throat before you managed to get the words out. “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I understand, nothing for me until you’re satisfied mistress.”

“That’s my girl.”

With that, she began shedding her own clothes, a much faster affair than ridding you of yours, simply pulling her dress over her head and tearing one simple underskirt away. A clever shift of her hips later and her dripping entrance was hovering over your waiting mouth. It seemed she craved you as much as you did her. She said the things she did for a reason after all, and cumming in your mouth appeared to be her raison d’être.

Wasting no time, you wrapped your arms around her thighs and pulled her closer, maintaining the pressure you knew she needed as your tongue began its work. Roughly circling her clit, you focused on the sounds she was making above you and moved accordingly, switching down to let her ride you when the rolling of her hips became too much, delighting in the wicked noises and near fall when you sucked hard. This rhythm continued until she was naught but instinct, rocking against your mouth as she gripped your upper arm desperately, silently signalling her satisfaction even as her cum was still gushing down your cheeks.

Ever so slightly out of breath she asked, “Mmmmm, do you think you deserve your turn?”

Your voice was muffled under her as you replied, “Not up to me.”

“Oh you are good for me aren’t you,” she said as she slid down to press her lips to yours again, moaning at the taste of herself on your tongue as she pushed her own to meet it.

All too soon she was moving on, leaving you breathless and quivering with need as her teeth sunk into the soft juncture of your neck, tongue darting out to soothe the sting even while she did it again and again, creating marks that would surely be seen for weeks. Somehow you never doubted that this was precisely her intention, letting Cairhien know that your body was hers to do with what she wished, when she wished it. Each time she went lower and lower, until she hit your chest and sparks flew behind your eyes as she started there, ruining the delicate skin with her bites yet still you relished it. Her hands darted up to pay attention to your other side while her tongue occupied one nipple, pulling and flicking at your breast until your breathing was just right, as though she were tuning an instrument.

#wheel of time #lanfear #natasha o'keeffe #ao3 #the wheel of time #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #lanfear fanfic #lanfear fic #lanfear x reader #lanfear x dragon #wheel of time fic #wheel of time fanfic #wot fanfic #wot on prime #selene #selene wot

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 2 months ago

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Jesus | Different Now | Platonic

The women following Jesus notice something about you; you have been avoiding men in general at all cost. Upon confronting you about it, they find out something about your past that only Jesus can heal.

Requested by Jasmine

TW: Mentions of harassment and non-consensual intercourse

The women of the group have noticed something about you ever since you joined the group; although you have no issue in adjusting to their presence and openly converse with them, you seem to shrink into your shell right away as soon as one of the guys comes up.

Tamar has found it odd that you’ve cut off a conversation with her when Andrew walked up to you a few days ago. Ramah had noticed how standoffish you had been when she had tried to introduce you to her beloved Thomas, and Mary had gotten a strange feeling when you were extraordinarily adamant on going to the market all by yourself when Little James offered to accompany you.

Sure, it is nothing but logical that you need some time to adjust to the group, but you have been here for a few months now and you’re actively avoiding any kind of male company safe from the Messiah Himself, which is definitely beginning to raise questions about your behaviour. No matter if it is a stranger, someone around your own age or someone your senior talking to you, if they are of the male sex, you move away without any kind of explanation whatsoever.

It worries them. You cannot avoid all men you come across forever, but you definitely seem keen on trying.

“Do you think she’s alright?” Ramah asks Mary one morning as they watch you get ready for the day, tucking your (h/c) locks underneath your veil before putting on an extra mantle over your tunic, even though it isn’t very cold outside. The woman from Magdalene hums and takes a sip of water from her cup, watching how you cover your skin up to your ankles.

You make sure that no strand of your hair is visible before you take a deep breath, grabbing your bag and ready to head out for the day.

When you turn to Mary and Ramah, they look away quickly, yet not fast enough to not let you catch them watching you. A bit puzzled, you let your gaze alternate between one and the other. “Is something wrong?” you ask, doing a step in their reaction.

Ramah opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. Mary attempts to find the right words, but Tamar speaks up for them.

“They, as well as myself, were wondering if you’re doing okay,” the Ethiopian woman says, “We’ve noticed that you’re covering up a lot, even though it is quite warm outside.”

You hum and force a smile over your face. “I dress how I like.”

“There is something that has become obvious to all of us,” Mary says, “And this is no accusation whatsoever, just… Something that we have… Taken note of.”

Frowning, you cross your arms over your chest. “What might that be?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Ramah begins, “But… We have seen that you seem to be… Quite averse to the company of men.”

You huff and look at the ground, not too happy to be addressing this issue. “I think it’s not appropriate to be seen in the company of men when they are not my betrothed.”

“That is not what she meant.” Mary mutters, “Just… Men in general. Everyone who is male.”

Something flashes inside your gaze and Tamar steps forward. “(Y/n), did… Did something happen? Is something bothering you? You know you can talk to us, right?”

“I know,” you whisper, “It’s nothing, really.”

“You’ve been doing this since the beginning,” Ramah mutters, “Don’t you think it’s time to confront it?”

“Confront what exactly?” you exclaim, way too defensive to be considered insignificant, “I just— I want to spend time with the people I like and I have no time to spare for those who I don’t feel comfortable talking to—”

“—Something happened in your past.” Mary concludes matter-of-factly, staring right at you when you look up, and she hits the nail on the head so strongly that you cannot help but shrink a little where you are standing. Dropping your arms a bit lower, you hug yourself a bit, seeming tinier than you are.

Tamar gawks for a moment as she processes the words from Mary. The former vintner from Tel Dor lets out a small noise and puts a hand on your arm. “(Y/n),” she breathes, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head a bit as you fight the tears. “I just… I don’t want to bother anyone with things that happened before I decided to follow Jesus. It shouldn’t matter as much.”

“But it still does, doesn’t it?” Tamar murmurs softly, approaching you as well in order to show her support, “You are still afraid.”

After a few beats of pregnant silence, you nod slowly. “I am. I know I have no reason to be, but I am.”

The three women lead you back to your cot to sit you down on top of it, Ramah and Tamar on your sides as Mary crouches down in front of you. “Tell us more,” she urges, “If you want to, of course. But I have learnt that confronting the past is the first step of healing from it. By not acknowledging that certain things have happened, these wounds never stop festering under the surface.”

Tears make themselves known on your cheeks without prior warning and the women from the group allow you to silently sniffle for a few minutes, giving you enough space to gather the courage to speak up. Your shoulders shake a bit as your past comes flooding back in the form of images flashing inside your mind. A wicked smirk hovering above yours, the smell of his skin, the deep ache that lingered in every joint in your body.

“He…” you whisper, “I thought he loved me. That he wanted me for more than just…” You swallow hard and shake your head, “He… There was this man… And I thought he was interested in me. So I… I took a chance. And I shouldn’t have.”

Tamar watches you with bated breath, pity finding a way on her face as Mary grabs your hand, knowing instantly what you have gone through. They patiently wait for you to continue your story, for they can tell that it is hurting you a great deal.

“He had his way with me. I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. After that, I ran. I kept running and running until I couldn’t anymore, but he still haunted me. At night, in my dreams. During the day, I thought I saw him around every corner. I felt so filthy about myself. I was so disgusted with my own body, because if I closed my eyes, I could so vividly picture him.”

Sobbing, you bury your face in your hands. Ramah is crying silently, too, feeling horrible for you. “Oh, (Y/n),” Mary whispers, “I’m so sorry that this happened to you.”

You take a few deep breaths and close your eyes. “I… I was alright for a while after moving to another town… Then, three men walked up and asked me questions about whether I was interested in getting married to one of them, and when I refused, they tried to convince me by saying the same things as… As the first man who hurt me. From that moment on, I’ve… I haven’t trusted a man ever since.”

Mary squeezes your hand, looking up at you from her crouched position. “Oh, dear friend. That is so painful to hear. But you are not to blame for what happened to you. Don’t get stuck in self-hatred because of it. There are evil people in this world who only think about themselves. But with Jesus things are different now.”

“How can I be sure?” you whisper, “I haven’t trusted a man in a long time, apart from Jesus. What if one turns on me? Waits for a moment of weakness before taking advantage? I can’t let that happen again!”

“We understand your reaction,” Ramah says, “But not every man is like the ones who made you feel worthless. I know that this notion isn’t something that you can just shake right away, but… It’s good that you told us. Thank you for confiding in us.”

Tamar nods. “Yes,” she adds, “It is a good start, but it is time for you to begin healing from it as well, the same way Mary has.”

A little startled, you look up at Mary. “You’ve…”

The woman from Magdalene nods. “There was a Roman soldier who came into my house one day, completely drunk and way stronger than I was.” Something shimmers behind her dark irises and you want to apologise for even mentioning it, but she gives you a watery, reassuring smile.

“I’m doing better now,” she says, “Sure, it isn’t completely banished from my mind, but I don’t let it reign over me any more. That fear, I mean. I belong to Jesus now, and so do you. Perhaps you should speak to Him about this. To see what He has to say. Certainly, Jesus can reassure you better than we can.”

It is honestly good to know that you aren’t the only one with such a traumatic experience around here, no matter how much you wished for it to not be so, for no woman should have to go through this. Still, you aren’t completely on your own, knowing that someone understands what it is like. At the same time, your companion in this experience has found a way to cope with that ordeal and move forward, making you more confident that you can find a way, too.

“I think I’d like that,” you whisper, “To tell Him about it. I’m sure that He knows about it already, but it would be a good idea to… You know, say it out loud.”

“That’s a great start,” Ramah tells you, “Come, let’s lead you to Him.”

The Messiah is found talking to Thaddeus and Philip near His own tent. Old habits die hard; your body tenses up around them, but your female friends make sure to keep you grounded as they call for Jesus’ attention. “Rabbi,” Ramah begins, “Could You spare us a moment of Your time?”

When He turns to the four of you, Jesus smiles gently. “Of course,” He states, “How may I help you?”

They gently push you forward, putting you in the centre of His attention. “I… I was… Wondering if I could speak to You.” You aren’t sure as to why you’re so nervous all of a sudden, but you know that running is no longer an option.

“Naturally,” Jesus muses, gesturing at the tent behind Him, “Would you join Me inside?”

Looking at your friends over your shoulder, they give you reassuring nods as you follow the Lord into the shelter, rubbing your clammy palms dry on the skirt of your tunic.

“What seems to be the problem?” Jesus asks after the two of you sit down. He pours both of you a cup of water and hands one to you, of which you take a few deep gulps. You need a moment to gather yourself, although Jesus doesn’t make you feel pressured to speak up right away.

“It is about my past,” you tell Him at last, “I know that You already know, but… Well, I just needed to say it out loud. I’ve… I’ve had a few bad experiences with men which has made me distrustful of them in general. I know it is not fair to blame all of them for what a few did, but… My body responds in a certain way whenever I’m around men. Like… I want to flee, to run away as far as I can. Does that make sense?”

Jesus purses His lips and slowly nods. “Yes, that does makes sense. Your reaction is a very human one to what has been done to you by others. Your body is triggering that flight response in order to survive. Am I seeing that right?”

You nod, affirming His words. Jesus takes pause and looks at you for a long few moments. “You have spoken to the women about this, haven’t you? They led you to me, which was a good thing to do.”

Gulping hard, you fight your sudden tears of embarrassment. Jesus puts His hand over yours and squeezes your fingers. “Easy now,” He murmurs, “There is no need to feel humiliated, not for what has been done to you nor about your reaction to it. It is part of your nature.”

You manage to blink away your tears. “I need you to realise something, though,” Jesus continues, patting the back of your hand. “I need you to surrender.”

That comment makes you frown in puzzlement. “But I’ve already given my heart to You.”

Jesus nods, “Yes, you have. I know that you believe in Me with all your being, and your soul is safe with Me. But I need you to surrender to the fact that through Me, all things will be made new. Including your identity. The parts that hurt, that are uncomfortable to talk about. Everything you thought you were belongs to Me now, and I will create something new, including your convictions and your feelings. Can you entrust Me with that?”

You search His face, swallowing hard as you attempt to digest the words. Had you trusted Him enough? Hadn’t you already given Him all you had? Had you done it wrong?

Jesus reads the self-doubt from your face and squeezes your fingers encouragingly. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” He says, “All I require is your heart, and I have it. Will you allow Me to shape it further, even if it hurts to go through that process?”

Looking at Him for a long moment, you consider the words. Following Jesus isn’t easy. It necessitates sacrifice and immense trust. To put everything you are on the line, to the very ends of your soul, which means confronting the past and letting go from old habits and routines. To realise that a new creation is just that; a new creation, built from the ground up.

And sometimes, to go to that ground requires a fall in your identity. To let go of habits that are both to protect yourself and destructive at the same time, even if you weren’t aware of it.

You don’t have to go through that valley of darkness on your own. You’ve got friends around you to help you through that period of confusion and re-establishment of your being. You have to face your fears and set aside the prejudices you had built to protect yourself.

Yes, you trust Him more than anything. Sacrifice means pain, but it will be healed. It will get better, because of Him.

“Can I give you a hug?” Jesus asks, waiting for your answer without pressuring you about it. Wordlessly, you fall into His arms, letting Him hold you close. It is the first time you’ve been embraced by a man in years.

You sit like that for a long while. It is a good start. The best kind of beginning of your healing journey. Everything is different now.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #chosen x reader #platonic #jesus x reader #the chosen jesus x reader #the chosen jesus

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professorspork · 5 months ago

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Wicked 1/23/25, National Tour @ Hollywood Pantages in Los Angeles

HELLO FRIENDS.

I have just seen Wicked LIVE AND IN PERSON for the first time since *checks notes* holy shit six years exactly to the day, I saw Jackie Burns and Kara Lindsay on 1/23/19 in this very same theater

that's wild

anyway i was very disappointed in past me's note-taking so today i wrote down EVERYTHING

but also i didn't remember to pack my notepad like i thought i did so i ended up scribbling wildly on my hand, and then my arm, and then my ankle like i was possessed by some eldritch horror

no, i can't read a word of that either

anyway COME ON THIS JOURNEY WITH ME, SHALL WE?

ngl a massive reason I bought this ticket was to see openly queer Mullet Glinda herself, Austen Danielle Bohmer, so I happily took a photo of the company listing when I walked in:

...only to then be very put out when I opened up my Playbill and saw that in fact I was scheduled to see the second understudy, Allsun O'Malley:

I asked an usher if he knew who would be Glinda and he was like "I'm pretty sure the board out front is correct?" so I had to wait in feverish anticipation to know for sure

In the meantime I saw this note:

...which made me hope I might get to hear the audible electric guitar music variants in Dancing Through Life etc that the LA production used to do in the Eden and Megan days but alas, it did not happen

seeing Austen also did not happen, and I could tell IMMEDIATELY because when the bubble floated in there was a visible like EIGHT INCHES OF CLEARANCE between the top of Glinda's head and the bubble and i was like "well that ain't Tall Glinda"

(Allsun is very aware that she is a short queen, bless)

here's the thing about Allsun O'Malley: she has a DISTINCTIVELY naturally low speaking voice and she doesn't do a thing to hide it as Glinda. Helen was pondering aloud the other day if Every Glinda Does A Voice and I had speculated that yeah, probably, bc if they're not doing Billie Burke they're doing Cheno and if they're not doing Cheno they're doing The Concept Of Glinda and like. nah. she'd sing the operatic high notes and then talk with this brassy alto and it was SO distinctive and interesting. (this is also a surprise tool that will help us later)

i cannot explain why I feel this so strongly, but the closest analog I can come up with to the energy and presence of Allsun's Glinda is like. Nate Stevenson???? the comparison came to me IMMEDIATELY and I could not articulate just what it is if you paid me but i felt it in my bones

okay thoughts scene by scene that's how we'll do this

NO ONE MOURNS THE WICKED

I really liked how my Frex, Wayne Schroder, did "I'm off to the assembly, dear." It was like. Actually distracted and off the cuff like real married couples speak and not Hello I Am Union And Delivering My First Big Line and i appreciated that

Glinda got SO close to memory!Boq and almost touched his face, which moved me. Allsun's "it was a long time ago, and we were both very young" was satisfyingly near-tears

DEAR OLD SHIZ

tonight's Boq, Alex Vinh, had a ponytail! spoiler alert his Tinman did not have a silver tinsel ponytail which was a great disappointment

ROOM ASSIGNMENTS

Lauren Samuels is ALSO A SHORT QUEEN pocket sized gelphie made me feral. Lauren's portrayal of Elphie kind of faded into the background at times because Allsun and later Xavier McKinnon (😍🥵 MORE ON HIM IN A MINUTE) were both so charismatic but I did enjoy it very much

her "I'm beautifully tragic" was fuckin great, really leaned into the humor

when Galinda introduced herself as "Galinda Upland... of the Upper Uplands" she held out her hand like she expected Morrible to kiss it

Morrible did not kiss it

speaking of Morrible, Aymee Garcia has a SHOCKINGLY good voice and after seeing so many bootleg Morribles who don't bother to sing at all getting such a strong and lovely singer was a wonderful jolt to the system

Galinda didn't do a full trust fall faint at "something's wrong, I didn't get my way" (totally fair, not something I think is reasonable to expect from a second u/s) but Allsun still linked elbows with her friends, which is notable only because she did it later in the exact same way after Dillamond booted everyone from class like "Animals Should Be Seen And Not Heard" had also affected her (or admittedly possibly like she was worried she'd be blamed for it)

THE WIZARD AND I

Lauren did the thing where when Elphie says "when we work hand in hand" she holds up her best friend Suitcase by the handle and this is a Little Elphie Thing I always love

WHAT IS THIS FEELING?

rather disappointingly, this is one of the moments I honestly don't have big feelings about, which is telling. Allsun's G(a)linda is very obsessed with Elphie but enduringly, tragically straight about it and it was obvious to me as early as here I would not be Getting Everything I Wanted

HOWEVER

she did a full on Tevye-style shoulder shimmy for that last moment when Galinda's dancing and Elphie hip-checks her and it was very good

HISTORY CLASS/SOMETHING BAD

Kingsley Leggs did not get touchy with his students and did do the air quotes for "scapegoat" so perfect Dillamond no notes

I'm also not sure of most Dillamonds do this and it's not in the shot re: boots, but he explicitly shushed Elphaba before she could tell Morrible what happened from behind Morrible's back which I liked v much

DANCING THROUGH LIFE

Xavier's Fiyero is dreamy as fuck and can dance so well and can sing so pretty and i am SO VERY ENAMORED

srsly cannot overstate how fabulous he was, even though he's obviously a fiyeraba truther and not a thropple guy more on that later tho

bc i know my wife will ask, yes Allsun did the pokey stab at "sharp, doncha think" but did not do it hard enough for the hat to actually make contact w Lauren's stomach

Allsun was so short you could barely tell Xavier was dipping her lmaooooo

for the first time i noticed a sad wallflower dancer girl who's by herself near the stairs for most of the Ozdust portion and i want to know what her deal is

Allsun HUGGED Morrible at "how can I express my gratitution?" and lmao Morrible did not care for it one bit

Xavier did the cutest little shoulder nudge at "then what's the matter?" and at hearing "nothing" transformed into The Most Suave Man In The World for "good, let's dance" as like a SEDUCTION line it was great

Lauren's solo dance ruled, peak intense cringe

VERY striking to me that when Galinda first approaches Elphie, the crowd goes "yaaaaas!" like they think she's going to get off a really good zinger. they then LAUGH at "can I cut in?" as though that in itself is the insult they were waiting for. in the boots I've seen I've mostly taken this for audience laughter at that line, but tonight it was VERY clear it was from the ensemble

SECRETS/POPULAR

Allsun started the scene fully belly-flopped on the bed and remained laying down for "Your very first party?" which is the first time I've seen that

Lauren's English accent made its only appearance during the milkflowers monologue when she let out a "mum"

After the popular/LAR moment when Galinda has to dance cross the stage and then return to the bed, Allsun chose to do so by doing a lasso motion and pulling herself back to Elphie which charmed me utterly

Allsun did a full fucking split at "very very popular like me" it was damn impressive

I hope there's an Allsun boot someday her toss toss pose also involves particular foot placement and she MADE Lauren stand up and copy her

Lauren also fully tossed her hair entirely into her face so hard she had to pick it out of her mouth, I'm p sure she must do this every night it ruled

however this Popular still sealed Allsun's fate as Very Straight, the vibes were just. not there alas.

LION CUB

SINCE WHEN IS THERE WIRE WORK WHERE ELPHIE FLOATS TWO OF THE STUDENTS??? WHEN DID THEY MAKE THIS CHANGE??!?!?! i was astonished lmao

Lauren and Xavier really made a meal of "you think i'm really stupid don't you?" "no! not... really stupid" and I knew then for sure this was a Fiyeraba Truther cast

I'M NOT THAT GIRL

another "SINCE WHEN?" moment: the tour cheaped out on getting a bridge the cast could actually walk on, so the bridge is a flat set piece and then in the interlude Galinda and Fiyero actually just run onto the stage to dance in the rain and there's a spinning hug and it is DEVASTATINGLY EFFECTIVE at showing the two of them actually enjoying dating with Elphie on the outside looking in, I loved it, it should be like this everywhere

TRAIN SCENE

they modified the blocking so that rather than drag elphie back after she tries to run after Nessa, Allsun just body blocks Elphie completely from chasing by holding out an arm which I loved

Fiyeraba trutherism cont'd, Xavier *sprinted* past Allsun to give Elphie her flowers before having to cross all the way back for her. she then grabbed the flowers to offer them ALONGSIDE him at "we're both so happy for you" which charmed me but again, it read competitive not compersive

I can't explain how but Allsun delivered "I've always wanted to see the Emerald City" in this sweetly vulnerable way, like it was something she'd mentioned to Elphie before and she was touched Elphaba remembered

ONE SHORT DAY

Ever since Helen told me she heard an audio boot where Lindsay Mendez read the line "finally somewhere I belong" instead of "i belong" and I've wanted one ever since and Lauren delivered

in the long pause after "two BEST friends" it was Lauren who broke and reached first. this was repeated later in "I hope you're happy, now that you're choosing this" which is striking to me because I was/am going to make a punctum about how Annaleigh Ashford always did it the exact opposite, where she reached first and let her Elphies choose to take her hand

AUDIENCE WITH OZ

when Elphie was bowing during "I'm Elphaba Thropp your terribleness" Glinda was coaching her through doing it from the sidelines like Amy Poehler in Mean Girls

Blake Hammond's first two credits in his bio are Edna in Hairspray and Pumbaa in Lion King, and he plays the Wizard exactly how you would expect knowing these two things

A SENTIMENTAL MAN

yes Helen he did do "son or daughter" like Glinda was his son, as god intended

LEVITATION SPELL

Lauren was d e v a s t a t e d after "you have no real power," she wasn't even listening to "exactly, and that's why i need you" she was fully head down hair covering her face CRYING crying

DEFYING GRAVITY

Allsun's "STOP" was authoritative rather than soul-rending, but then she knelt down NEXT to Lauren and HUGGED HER AROUND THE SHOULDERS for "maybe you're not as powerful as you think you are"

Lauren delivered "come with me; think of what we could do... together" near tears and i loved it

this was the biggest moment Allsun's second understudy status shined through, for a second there she couldn't get the cape clasp closed and it was an UNCOMFORTABLY long fermata for the orchestra giving her the room to do it before transitioning into the Elphie gets to her feet drum roll

again, not sure if this was a Them Thing or if this always happens and I never noticed because boots are in closeup and I wasn't looking for it before, but at "and if I'm flying solo" Lauren did a full on goodbye wave to Allsun as like a farewell of forgiveness and understanding and Allsun reach-waved back

growl at the beginning of ~battlecry, ty Lauren for my life

INTERMISSION

it was my intention to spend my intermission beginning the draft of this post and frantically try and decipher the mad scribblings i'd made up my arms, but i instead spent most of it talking to the woman next to me, a gregarious mom who'd brought her two girls

she told me she'd only just seen the movie and then DIDN'T GO ON THE INTERNET bc she DIDN'T WANT SPOILERS FOR ACT TWO

!!!!

reader i loved her this woman made my night

she was so into everything and when I told her about how often I'd seen the show she asked me so many questions about what changed over time and was so impressed by what they managed to do on stage

also one of her daughters was like "mom, elphaba's FUNNY!" in surprised delight and uh yeah that is my greatest criticism of Cynthia's portrayal and the fact that these random normies could tell was. a lot. to me.

it was only at this moment that it dawned to me how FULL this audience was of kids and parents in this exact same position, people who legitimately did not know what was coming in act 2

the following are the moments that earned OUT LOUD GASPS from the WHOLE AUDIENCE due to this fact:

Tin Man reveal

Dillamond under the blanket reveal

"use her sister"

"things that don't belong to us" up through the slaps, gasps on EACH ESCALATING LINE/MOMENT

Fiyero turning the gun on Glinda

"she was yours all along" THEY. DID NOT. SEE. THIS. COMING.

anyway

THANK GOODNESS

pitch-perfect "not how you described it to me"/"not exactly but we'll talk about it later"

because, again, the bridge was not something the ensemble could stand on, everyone was just crowded around the platform for this, which made it feel (purposefully and effectively) claustrophobic. despite being an obvious Fiyeraba truther Xavier is so GALLANT to Glinda in this scene, because like-- when Morrible gets the crowd all riled up and they start choking in, he made this protective motion like he thought they were gonna grab at Glinda and he was keeping her safe

then after stalking off, he trotted back to give Glinda a chivalrous hand down from the platform like it was just pure instinct

SINCE WHEN DOES POPULAR MOTIF PLAY UNDER THE GLINDA AND FIYERO TALK???!?

however the fact that I have more to say about Xavier's choices in this scene than I do Allsun says all you need to know i think

WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST

Erica Ito hadn't made much of an impression on me in act 1 but she ATE in this scene. nessa was fierce as fuck and actually scared me at "lost your heart?"

also before that she did the thing Michelle Federer used to do and looked all paranoid over her shoulder after "i'm an unelected official" like people could be listening and i've missed it

Lauren did EXCELLENT reaching as Allsun and Xavier left the stage in the scene transition into Wonderful

WONDERFUL / FREEING THE MONKEYS / REUNION

sorry Mr. Hammond i have nothing more to say abt your Wizard

Allsun got big laughs on her pained, awkward-trying-to-be-chipper delivery of "we all went to school together"

the fiyeraba trutherism comes home to roost, i have never seen any fiyero burst out "i'm going with her" so fucking fast

his callousness there was balanced by how kindly he pulled off the "well it was -- but it wasn't" to both

still, he was fully out the room and expected elphie to just follow him after his exit bc he didn't grab her hand, so he had to COME BACK FOR HER and DRAG her away bc she wouldn't stop making eye contact w Glinda

Morrible did a full on evil laugh after "change in the weather"

AS LONG AS YOU'RE MINE

exactly as horny as you'd expect given everything else i've said so far but Lauren REALLY gave it her all on that front

the mom next to me literally said "spicy!" under her breath after "for the first time i feel wicked"

lauren was THIRSTY going in for that parting kiss after the Kiamo Ko invite

CATFIGHT

this is where it all fell apart a little, because Allsun being 2nd u/s just didn't have the chemistry there to pull off all the transitions

she also couldn't quite manage the wand twirl which was a bummer

i think this became a more common move for Glindas in the late 2010s but she went in to touch foreheads w Fiyero after "he loves her" and it killed me

NO GOOD DEED

not nearly feral enough for my tastes sry Lauren.

i will say a lot of this was not her fault, current tour choreo for stages without the trapdoor entrance demands she just HOLD the grimmerie for half the scene before awkwardly handing it off to Chistery and it is very distracting

MARCH OF THE WITCH HUNTERS

noose lady was VERY front and center my goodness

again bc tour Glinda and Boq had to enter via platforms being wheeled on instead of having the built-ins, and for the first time i noticed Glinda's is her Thank Goodness platform. that made me froth at the mouth.

aymee was PERFECT at "you've wanted this from the beginning and now you're getting what you wanted" but kind of undersold "so just smile and wave and shut up" tbh

FOR GOOD

helen has been keeping a timer of how long it takes gelphie to touch after the song starts in earnest at "i've heard it said" and tonight was zero seconds Allsun started out already gripping Lauren's shoulder

and here is where Allsun's deep speaking voice comes in, because it has this thing where instead of Glinda taking the lower harmony feeling like she's changed it feels like she's finally being honest/herself for the first time musically

FINALE

somehow DJ Smart managed to make "M-Miss? Miss Glinda...." sound not only like Chistery struggling to speak but like CHISTERY HAD A LUMP IN HIS THROAT BC HE THINKS ELPHIE IS DEAD TOO

NOT TELLING GLINDA AND FIYERO IS ONE THING BUT ELPHABA HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL CHISTERY

speaking of, Xavier passed on the Chain Of Forehead Touch from Allsun to Lauren at "no one can ever know" he was SO SAD and i prefer that so much to Fiyeros who are strident or chiding

SERIOUSLY ELPHABA YOU DIDN'T TELL CHISTERY YOU'RE ALIVE? GIRL.

anyway at curtain call Lauren made sure to do Big Gesture at Allsun bc she gets to do this So Rarely and i had an emotion

AND THAT WAS MY NIGHT oops this took me two hours to write and i still have work in the morning

oh well, worth it

#wicked #leah watches wicked

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makeyoumine69 · 11 months ago

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Till Death Do Us Part (Chapter Eight)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader; [no y/n]

SUMMARY: Patrick locked you in the bathroom of Timothy Price's summer house. Scared and lost, you tried desperately to get out, not really understanding that he was probably doing it to save you from himself.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, swearing, childhood traumas, toxic behavior, self-loathing, sexual tension, fingering, first time sex, pet names, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, guilty pleasures, corruption kink, body worship, hair pulling.

WORDS: 5k

A/N: Hello dears, here's another chapter! I plan to post several flashbacks after this one! Thank you so much for supporting this story, I love you all!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

"...Patrick, are you still there?" You pressed a shaky hand along the wooden bathroom door, swallowing your salty tears. "Please…don’t go away! I’m…I’m scared."

You began to panic as you heard his distancing footsteps as Patrick moved downstairs to the kitchen, still not really understanding what and why he was doing all of this. The man opened the freezer and took out an ice pack before going back to the bathroom you were locked in. Frowning, he gently opened the door, peering inside before opening it. When he saw you, barely standing on your feet, Bateman pulled you down to sit on the edge of the bathtub, being as gentle as he could be. Then, he ran a hand down your thigh for a moment before lifting you leg up, wrapping the ice pack around your sprained ankle and propping your foot up against the sink.

Visibly exhausted, he sighed and looked in the mirror, seeing the small gash in his lip and shaking his head. "I guess…I've had worse." Patrick looked back at you and crossed his arms. "I…I'm…uh…I'm sorry too…for…slapping you..." The man scrunched his nose, clearly uncomfortable with apologizing but trying his best. "It, uh... it works in movies... to calm people down... I thought it'd...whatever-" He coughed and rubbed his nose before looking back at you. "But- uh... I'm not upset that you aren't Courtney or Bethany or some other whore I slept with- I just... I don't like it when you... get upset at me for watching porn. It's a normal thing for me."

"A normal thing?" You repeated, glancing at him sternly.

Bateman nodded. "This is exactly what I’ve said."

Was he genuinely concerned about you or did he just want to manipulate you?

God, how many times has he already done this?

Maybe it did not matter, since you let him do it, you wanted to be manipulated, even now. "You know, I didn't sleep with my ex-boyfriend because," you stopped halfway, not sure if this was the right time to bring up such a topic, but the desire to dotting the I’s and crossing the T's between two of you overcame any doubts. "Because my family always told me not to go out with boys—they didn't want me to become a whore," you confessed, trying to move your ankle, hissing with pain as it still hurt.

"If you move, your ankle will swell to the size of a grapefruit." Patrick tried to interrupt you but you didn’t falter.

"...they kept insisting that sex was something sinful and dirty, so when I grew up I had no idea what physical intimacy was. I even…consider myself frigid," you watched as Bateman's eyebrows furrowed in exasperation. "Sorry to bring that up. I... I was going to say…why didn't you ask me to... help you instead of watching porn, but then I realized how stupid it would be... to ask such an inexperienced virgin like me for help."

Annoyed, the man shook his head and gently put a hand on your back, urging you to stay seated. "Even if you did have sex with your ex-boyfriend...Courtney is a whore because she's cheating on Luis and not just with me either. Bethany was a whore because she was getting married to Robert fucking Hall." Bateman chuckled at himself, the image of the last lunch with Bethany relapsing in his mind. He ignored it though, keeping the friendly smile on his face. "I didn't think to ask you because I knew you would say no." He admitted, showing his fear of rejection.

"There's a huge gap between us," you licked your lips briefly as you watched your reflections in the mirror. "It always has been, even when we were children. Your family is much richer and more influential, that's enough to make you feel superior, isn't it?"

Patrick hesitated before he also started opening up, deciding it was his turn to talk about his family. "Uh, my whole life I was pretty much... surrounded by sex. Father left these... porn magazines around the house and Sean and I often caught him fucking... well anyone, really. Started with just my mother, but after she became suicidal and drugged up, he would bring women into the house- sometimes he would just bang our maids. Mother was always asleep. Until she wasn't one day." The corner of his eyes twitched slightly, but the stoic mask didn't falter

"Patrick…I’m sorry, but it's not your fault to be born into such a family…with so much power and wealth." You gasped and closed your eyes for a moment. "The thing that bothered me the most about our arranged marriage is... the heir our families would probably want us to have. And if they really do want this, I don't want our child to suffer…I only want good things for them…I don't care about myself, I just want the baby to be happy." Saying that, You didn't even notice that you were crying again, your tiny hand clasped around his involuntarily, sending shivers down your spine from the mere physical contact.

Embarrassed, Patrick tensed slightly at the sudden touch, but then he hesitantly moved his hand to entwine his fingers with yours, not looking at your hands so he wouldn't talk himself out of it. Blushing a bit, the man stared at his reflection in the mirror, but all he saw was an expressionless mask. It was difficult for him to tell what was real and what was not.

"My life was hell." He said tonelessly.

Sitting closer, you carefully rubbed a small circle into the top of his large palm.

My poor little boy. Why did all this happen to you? Why?

Bateman was usually open about how unhappy he was in life, but people never listened. It's gotten to a point where he actively made threats against people just to see how far he could go without anything noticing.

Confused, Patrick raised an eyebrow and looked down at you. "...A child?" He repeated.

How could he have not thought about that? Of course they would be expected to have children. Patrick liked children, and he often imagined himself as a father. But he usually imagined it with Jean or Courtney or a random model he saw on TV.

"Uh... the baby will be happy, don’t worry," he stated, looking away from you as he spoke so he wouldn't have to see you cry. "After this marriage, I'm planning to... cut contact from my family."

As a lurking sadness creeped up into your chest once again, you frowned and closed your eyes at his last words—burning bridges with family was not the easiest way to solve the problem, but despite your urge to persuade him to find another solution, you should have respected him and his choices.

"I see," you murmured and before you knew it, your lips were pecking his soft cheek, usually perfectly shaved but now a bit stubbly. "This is very brave of you to do this. I think I should follow suit and do the same." You sighed and looked down at your intertwined fingers, the sight making your heart beat so fast, that you felt slightly light-headed. "But speaking of heirs, I don't think I'm ready for children, neither are you...I suppose," you slowly kept stroking his warm palm. "To be honest, I don't want my life to be limited by taking care of children while you're out having a great time in clubs with other women..." you stopped, biting your lip as you didn’t really mean to say it. "But as I said so many times already…I'm not going to judge you, that's the lifestyle you always had and will have. The lifestyle that so few people on our planet can afford."

Rubbing his cheek where you kissed him, the man chuckled and shook his head. "No... no kids yet... I don't think I even have enough room in my apartment." He admitted sheepishly—he didn't like to admit that his apartment was rather small. Then, Patrick glanced down at your clasped hands and flexed slightly, the veins becoming visible under his tan skin. "Well…" He started then paused. "...I don't really... like partying." Bateman admitted, looking over at you again. "I think they're loud and stressful. It's also tiring to have to make reservations at so many restaurants every single day... " He sighed. "But it's a cycle I can't break. Because it's... well, it's my life. Maybe when I'm older, it'll be... hip to stay at home instead of going to the Tunnel every night."

After listening to him attentively, you took your hand away and made another attempt to stand, but failed and fell right into Bateman's embrace—and thank God you both didn't fall into the tub, as he managed to keep his balance. And now, you were literally straddling him, your hands instinctively wrapped around his strong neck and you could feel his burning flesh pressed against your womanhood. It was so hard and throbbing—you had to close your eyes for a second to keep yourself together.

"Sorry," you murmured, staring into his walnut eyes. "You... you have such beautiful eyes, it was the first thing I noticed when we first met. Do you remember?" You asked, trying to play it cool as Patrick looped your waist with his muscular arms and, doing it certainly on purpose, pressed you closer to his rock-like groin. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, subtle but definitely there. Patrick shifted as he felt his now growing erection pressing against the silk of his robe and against your elegant thigh. The man glanced away for a second, the eye contact making him nervous.

Bateman flushed at the compliment and shook his head slowly. "No…uh, maybe… I don't think so.." He said slowly, instinctively pressing you closer.

Momentarily, you leaned down, about to kiss him hard on lips, only to stop at the last second, and instead of kissing him, you hugged him tightly. "You're so strong, as you’ve always been," you murmured, stroking his biceps through the expensive fabric of his robe, not even realizing you were playing with fire. "I can't imagine how hard you had to train to be in such shape," you hopped on top of him to make yourself more comfortable, accidentally hitting his hard bulge and hearing him growl. "I...sorry...I didn't want...uh…Does it hurt?" You started to get up, but then just stopped. "Can...can I help you with...this?" You asked almost breathlessly, watching Patrick's nostrils flutter with heat.

The thunder still echoed in the background, but you didn't care. Not now.

"I don't promise I can do anything from the porn you watch, but... but maybe if you help... if you guide me... it can work?" You asked, pursing your lips and averting your eyes from the burning embarrassment.

"No... don't worry about it..." The man husked through his clenched teeth before moving his hands down, squeezing at your ass with both hands. He grinned and tilted his head back. "Ah, fuck it-" He muttered, throwing all his standards and concerns out the window.

Heaving, Patrick moved his hands underneath your legs and stood up, carrying you against his chest. Then, Bateman strode back to the bedroom, pressing kisses against your jaw before gently laying you down on the big bed. With a wolfish smirk, he kneeled above you and pressed his soft lips against yours.

What am I doing?

The questions echoed through your head, but your body refused to listen to what your jittery mind was telling you. Breathlessly, you squealed into his mouth as he parted your legs with his massive knee, making himself comfortable between them as you could feel his hunger getting higher by the second.

"Patty..." you moaned breathlessly in response to his aggressive attack on your neck, and you didn't even notice that you were craning your neck to give him more access. Not to mention that you were so wet, dripping even, and it embarrassed you to no end. "Wait, w-wait...please," you whimpered suddenly, leaning against his strong chest to stop him. "I...I've never done this...I don't know..." you struggled to breathe, your hands sliding nervously around Bateman's torso as you had no idea where to put them. "I don't know what to do..." you closed your eyes, unable to bear the way this man stared at you like the wolf that had finally caught its prey.

It would hurt…it would hurt so much… but I should go through it!

Panting, Patrick pulled away from the kiss, using his knee to part your legs. He looked down at you with a soft expression, an expression he rarely showed anyone as he felt the urge to make love to you rather than just…having sex. The man reached over to run his hand through your hair, making your face more visible to him. You really were quite beautiful. So much different than his regular standards though. Carefully, he slid a hand under your back to hold you closer as he pressed kisses against your shaky throat. He gently bit at one spot and licked, sucking on your skin until a dark hickey was left. Growling quietly, Bateman felt his erection twitch by you moaning his name. But…he slowly pulled away when he heard your protests, looking at you with furrowed brows.

Patrick swallowed before sighing lowly, licking at his lips. "Yeah, I know you're a virgin..." he said slowly. "I'll be…uh…gentle…you don't have to do anything if you don't want to. You can just…lay here…" The man moved his hands down your hip before slowly pulling on the lace of your underwear in a teasing way. All this time, he kept eye contact with you as he rubbed two fingers against your clothed womanhood, a smirk tugging at his lips when he felt just how wet you were. " It'll hurt at first...but it'll feel great after a few seconds."

"I know," you gasped in response to his remark about pain. "I know it's going to hurt, but I'm okay with that," you suddenly realized how long you’d been waiting for this—to finally be claimed by the man you’d longed for years. "I'd better shut up...I'm afraid I'll mess everything up."

"You can keep talking, sweetheart. I like making noise." Bateman said smoothly, letting the designer fabric slip off his shoulders.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to catch a perfect view of his hard, engorged cock, bobbing as the man moved, its tip leaking and blushing red. "Maybe…we can have some foreplay?" You suggested tentatively, not that you weren’t ready—your soaked slit was a great testament to how ready you were in a biological way—but your girlish nature wanted to live through this moment emotionally, to feel his touch on every inch of your trembling body. "What do you think about...mutual masturbation?"

Patrick was losing himself in you, he pressed a few kisses to your head, taking the opportunity to smell your hair and savor your sweetness, but then paused. "Mutual masturbation?" He asked incredulously. "You might be a virgin, Becca, but you certainly aren't innocent... I like that..." The man readjusted himself so his erection would be in a more convenient spot for you to take hold of. "I usually don't like... innocence. It's, uh... inconvenient. Acting like a teacher."

Bateman hummed and moved his hand to cup your virginal pussy before flicking his thumb over your clit. After that, he reeled his hand back for a couple of seconds before bringing it back, using one finger to rub the inside of your taut, lower lips in an agonizingly slow way. Grinning wryly, he glanced up at your face before shoving two fingers into your tight hole, making sure to move them slowly and deliberately. And even though you still couldn't believe that you were capable of suggesting such filthy things, Patrick didn't give you time to think about it as his poking digits caused a storm of sensations in your fuzzy mind.

“Uh...Patty..." You were ready to scream this nickname over and over again, closing your eyes from the way your taut nipples rubbed against his firm chest through the soft fabric of your top. "I think...I think I..." a nervous pause, then a swallow. "I think I like it..."

“Yeah,” the man shoved his fingers deeper, indulging how warm and tight you were. “Just like that…keep your legs open for me.”

"Mmhm," you covered your mouth with one hand and cupped his thick cock with the other, feeling it throbbing from your touch. "I'm sorry…I didn't watch porn," you giggled nervously, your eyes closed as you shyly began to jack him off with hope that he was enjoying it despite the fact that your motions were pretty amateur.

“Don't do that..." Bateman warned. "I want to hear you making all these little lewd sounds..." He added, bucking his hips against your hand to get some more friction. He groaned and tilted his head back. "Just…just move your hand faster..." He tried to encourage you, before closing his eyes, following the rhythm of your hand movements with his fingers.

"Are you…are you sure…it will fit?" Your question hung in the air for a moment before you continued. "You're so... so big, I'm not sure if just the tip would fit..." your breathing was labored and shallow, and it grew more rapid the deeper Bateman pushed his fingers. "Do it...do it fast, okay? Don't worry about me." you stroked his cock more vigorously, sensing the drops of his warm pre-cum dripping down onto your hand.

Without further ado, you pulled up your white top, revealing your heavy breasts and hard nipples, one of which you squeezed almost instantly, trying to add extra stimulation to distract yourself from the searing pain.

"Fit?" Bateman grinned, his eyes having a mischievous glint in them."It'll fit. I've been with younger girls than you…and it always fits." He remarked casually, deciding not to mention that he actually did end up tearing someone's vagina from just thrusts. He groaned again, the sound coming deep from his throat.

"I think...I think from behind is the best option?" You asked without even thinking, opening your eyes to find his brown ones, admiring the way his face was flushed and focused...focused on you.

The man nodded slowly and ran a hand through your hair, pulling at it gently. "Yeah... we can do doggy…you sure haven't, uh…watched porn? You seem to know what you like." Patrick chuckled and watched with glee as you played with your tits, his free hand immediately went to one of them, massaging and gently squeezing the heavy mound in his hand—his palm was smooth against it. He flicked his thumb over your nipple and bit his bottom lip. Then, he hesitantly pulled his fingers out from you, quickly putting them in his mouth so he could taste you and God, you were so sweet.

With a cheeky grin, he rolled his hips back from your hand. "So, are you going to get on your hands and knees or will I have to maneuver you…Dove?"

"I...I can't believe you still remember this nickname..." your breathing became more and more labored as you couldn't see exactly what he was doing behind your back, but maybe it was for the better. "...I've missed it so much, Patty."

Damn it, did I say it out loud?

Patrick opened the condom after struggling for a bit, his hands shaking from anticipation. He cursed to himself quietly before slipping the condom onto his erection, making sure the condom was an inch from the tip to "catch the ejaculate" as Courtney would say. His eyes traveled to your body hungrily, staring at your back, then your ass, then the back of your head. Satisfied, he lapped at his lips before moving to sit on his knees behind you, his hands grazing over your hips.

"I... can't believe it either. Guess it just came back to me." The man muttered before leaning over your back, his cock pressing against your ass cheek.

As much as you wanted to look confident and brave, your legs began to tremble the moment you felt Bateman's strong arms wrap around your waist in a possessive way, as if you were an object. "Make it quick...please..." You pleaded, closing your eyes and already wrinkling the sheets beneath you.

Smirking arrogantly, he trailed his hands from your hips to your waist and then to your arms. His grip on you was tender and soft, a stark contrast to how he treated his other hookups. Patrick moved his hands down to yours, pressing his palms against the back of your hands. Then, he kissed your neck and did that also to your jawline before stopping at your ear.

"You say that, but... I don't think you really want it to be quick, do you?" Bateman whispered, his breath hot against your face. He chuckled and pulled back slightly. "Tell me when you're ready..." He said roughly before bringing his body back to your hips, waiting for your signal. "Safe word will be... uh... vanilla." Patrick never bothered to use a safe word before with any of his other companions, but he felt it was necessary for you. His Dove.

"I'm ready," you mused, turning to face him. "You can imagine someone beautiful in my place, so it would be... more appealing to you." You suddenly added, knowing that your body was so far from the standards of beauty that Patrick preferred when it came to banging women.

Biting on his lower lip, Patrick could feel the tension in your body. He kept his hands gentle against your skin, holding back his urge to absolutely rail you senselessly. Bateman groaned when you pushed your hips against his, as he huffed softly and tightened his grip on your ass.

"If you weren't beautiful, I wouldn't be here behind you." He countered softly before reeling back. He positioned himself fully before pressing his tip against your opening. He inhaled sharply and slowly moved in further, your pussy wet enough for him not to use lube. Overwhelmed by the musky scent of your arousal in the air, he groaned throatily and began to thrust slowly, his cock breaking into your hymen. "S-shit... you're so fucking tight.." He croaked through clenched teeth.

Inch by inch, his thick cock slid inside, past your hymen, forcing your inner muscles to tighten around the foreign object that had invaded your innocent sanctuary. "Uhhh, it's so..." you clutched the pillow beneath, your eyebrows knitted together by the tearing pain. "...so big…mmhm…it won't fit!" You cried out suddenly as the pain grew, but when you tried to wriggle out of his grip, Bateman only pulled you closer, wrapping his hands around your waist like an iron ring. "Patrick..." you whimpered, and although you knew the safe word, you didn't want to be a coward, but these new-founded sensations were too much to bear. "Can you…k-kiss me…please?" Your hands clawed at his hips as if looking for something to help you to suppress the pain, you didn't even know why you asked him to kiss you as if it could really help.

Visibly irritated, the man moved his hands up your back and pulled you up not-to-gently at all, pressing his hot lips against yours. Next, Patrick ran his hand down your heavy breasts as he deepened the kiss, full of affection and desire. He pulled away only after a few moments, panting heavily, he looked into your hazy eyes.

"You're... clawing my skin." The man hissed slowly, moving one hand to pull yours off his hips. "You know the word... if it's too much, we can just do oral for the night." He said roughly. "Your body will adjust to it... it'll fit. You just have to be patient... but if you can't, we can stop." Bateman tried to hide the disappointment from his voice as he spoke.

The undertone of his words hit you like a truck, encouraging you to give yourself an illusory slap in the face and to be strong and brave, since you were really acting like a cry baby, considering it was your idea. But the pain…the pain was so sharp and you didn't expect it, so now you had to think of other options, because you didn't want to ruin this moment completely, as if Bateman wasn't already annoyed.

Panting, you quickly leaned forward, causing his cock to flop out of her without him holding her, and then you rolled onto your back, placing a pillow under your ass. "Let's go like this," you commented, taking another pillow to cover your face. "Doggy is too much for me right now…too painful…I'm...sorry...I thought I could handle it," you peered up at him for a moment, then at his still rock hard dick pressed against his flat stomach, encased in a condom and already slick with your flavor. "Why…why are you so big?" You suddenly asked, feeling silly because you were a nurse and you knew very well that such things usually depended on genetics and there wasn't much Patrick could do about it, but you asked anyway.

Patrick honestly didn't care what position you did, he just needed a release. When you lay down, he moved back behind you and wrapped one of your legs around his shoulder, having a firm grip on your thigh. Huffing and blushing, he pressed his tip against your wet folds, humming softly as he felt your heat. Then, he glanced up and saw you were covering your face with the pillow once again. Bateman felt a sudden annoyance and reached over, pulling the pillow away.

"Stop fucking hiding your face!" He commanded—a certain edge in his voice. "You know what's the only unsexy thing about you, Rebecca? Your fucking lack of confidence. I don't want to fuck you if you're always talking about how 'ugly' you are, or how you aren't worth my time, because-" He paused, staring at you and pursing his lips as he stopped himself from spilling too much. "It's just- it's unflattering... and I'm not going to fuck you until you promise me you'll stop hiding your face. Because I want to see your face." His voice was softer now as he stared down at you , keeping his hips completely still.

As if you weren't the only one who made me feel unattractive.

You thought, but didn't say it out loud. "I won't," you stated and stared into his eyes without a hint of doubt. "Go ahead…use my hole like you always love to."

With that, you spread your legs wider, being on the verge of bucking your hips against his to impale yourself on his cock, no longer as hard as it had been. Panting, you looked up at the ceiling for a moment.

'I want to see your face, huh, yeah, for sure,' his words kept spinning in you head, 'and who will he be imagining while fucking me, Courtney or maybe Bethany? Or maybe both together.'

You fidgeted impatiently on the bed when Patrick still didn't move. "What's the problem now? I did what you said."

Something about your tone bothered Patrick. Apparently there was another unsexy thing about you—your jealousy. And your incompetence in hiding it. He felt his horniness leaving his body and his erection softening, a deep frown on his face that didn't leave any creases in his skin. He crossed his arms over his bulging, taught pecs and shifted away from you again, letting go of your legs.

"You're upset with me." Bateman muttered tonelessly, leaving no room for argument. "I don't want to fuck you if you're going to be bitchy. Why are you upset with me? Is it because you aren't my first? I feel like I've been... nothing but nice to you lately." He hissed through clenched teeth, tilting his head up slightly and staring down at you.

A tired sigh escaped your chest at his words. Silently, you rolled onto your stomach, feeling so embarrassed and disappointed... again.

"You're such an egoist," you commented suddenly, covering yourself with a blanket. "I've told you so many things about...my family problems, because you know, unlike you, my parents didn't allow me to do whatever I wanted," you huffed, realizing that it was pointless to try to explain anything to him. "Leave me alone," you finally blurted out, barely holding back your tears. "Do whatever you want, hire a hooker or a million of them, I don't care! Just…leave me alone!" You sobbed and hugged yourself. What an idiotic decision you had made, thinking you could help him when he didn't even see you as a woman. Shaking, you closed your eyes and hid your face in the pillow. "It was my fault…but you could have stopped me."

Angry as fuck, Patrick furrowed his brows, tying the robe back around his body. He clenched his jaw and moved off the bed, now standing besides you. "Is that what you think? That I was allowed to do whatever I want?" He repeated, his eyes penetrating the back of your head. "Well, uh, newsflash...I had my own problems too. I had my own issues with my family. Just because we were wealthy doesn't mean we were a picture perfect family like my mother so desperately wanted to perpetuate!" He was now getting really insane, his hands clenching into his fists at his hips. "You think your life was so hard, Becca. Well, here's what I think. I think you're too much of a self-centered, self-loathing bitch that's too clouded by your own sorrow to see anyone else's. Am I right? Did I… hit the nail on the head?" He spat. "You act like I'm some sort of villain, some burden on your life or some...some obstacle you have to overcome. Don't you know how that makes me feel? Every. Single. Fucking. Day… you are chastising me for something. Whether it be watching porn, or…or what, having a wealthy upbringing? Or having past girlfriends, for Christ sakes. You've always been such a prude, Rebecca. I swear, you were born with your own chastity belt." After he calmed down, he sighed and looked away from you, going to the door. " So, uh, y'know… think about that." He said before leaving the bedroom, closing the door behind him but making sure the lights were still on.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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melpomenelamusa · 2 months ago

Text

Infiltrators Pt. 2 - Chimeras

~Original story~

CW: Mention of human trafficking, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, blood and injury, violence.

Once the old woman and Warrick left through the door, the room fell silent. The sheep woman watched the newcomers with a mixture of curiosity and pity. She looked about thirty years old. Like them, she was barefoot and dressed in a simple gray T-shirt and matching pants. On her left cheek, some bruises were still faintly visible.

After a few more minutes of intense silence, Elafi decided to break the ice by greeting her timidly.

"Hi!"

The sheep woman didn’t respond, pressing her lips together. She turned away and curled up on her mattress, not saying another word or even looking at him again. Elafi didn’t take it personally. Who knew what that poor woman had been through—it was understandable she didn’t feel like talking.

"Try to get some sleep, Elafi," said Fidi from her corner. "We’ll need to be wide awake later."

"You’re right."

Elafi lay down on the mattress, uncomfortable with the shackle around his ankle. Even knowing it was all just a setup, the sensation made him feel like they really were prisoners. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. A few hours later (or maybe just minutes—it was impossible to tell time in that closed room), someone entered and brought them food, placing a bowl of bland, watery cereal and a bit of water in front of each of them.

"You’ll take turns using the bathroom," the person said, unlocking the shackles from the wall so they could walk. Once everyone had relieved themselves, the person chained them back up, turned off the room’s light, and shut the door, leaving them in complete darkness.

Elafi heard the other two chimeras settling into their mattresses, with nothing to do now but wait. He followed suit, trying to steady his nerves. He knew he had to stay calm and wait for Warrick, that it was all part of the plan. Still, he couldn’t help imagining terrible scenarios where he ended up as another item on auction, displayed on stage like a collector’s piece and bought by someone with dark intentions.

Everything will be okay, he thought, taking a deep breath to relax. Even without seeing them, knowing that behind the walls of that room he was surrounded by more chimera children, by more people like him, made him feel a bit safer. It’s the people they call 'normal' who always end up hurting us. He wanted to feel angry, but then he thought about his parents, about Warrick, Lupita, and Patrick, and he realized the world was too complex to hate broadly over something as minimal as their differences.

After a while, the door handle turned, followed by approaching footsteps. Elafi tensed up and froze, holding his breath. A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he nearly screamed—until a flashlight shone in his face and he saw Warrick behind it.

"It’s time," the man whispered.

Without wasting another second, Warrick broke the chains around the chimera teen’s ankles with a bolt cutter, including those of the sheep woman.

"W-w-who a-are y-you?" she stammered, fearful.

"Just someone who wants to help," Warrick answered calmly.

"My name’s Elafi," said the boy with a big smile.

The sheep woman looked at them like she couldn’t tell if they were real or a product of her imagination.

"By any chance, do you know if there’s a tiger boy around here?" Fidi suddenly asked. "Tall, dark-skinned, curly hair?"

The sheep woman remained silent, still wary. But after a while, she said:

"I was brought in just yesterday. I’ve only seen the staff and heard some screams through the walls. But… but I remember that when they brought me food last night, one of the guards was joking with his partner. Among several… unpleasant comments, they mentioned something about… about feeding me to the crazy tiger they brought in a few days ago if I didn’t behave."

"Do you know which room he might be in?" Fidi asked, trying hard not to sound too desperate.

"Did you see the colored circles outside the doors? They say he’s extremely violent, so he must be marked with an orange one."

"I saw an orange circle in the hallway when they brought us," said Elafi.

Warrick nodded. He handed the teenagers a flashlight, a set of lock-picking tools, and another bolt cutter just like the one he carried.

"You two go find the tiger boy. I’ll take care of freeing the others." Then, turning to the sheep woman, the man added, "You can leave or stay here. We won’t force you to do anything."

She only stared at them with frightened, confused eyes, too scared to move.

I hope she makes it out, Elafi thought as he and Fidi stepped into the hallway, looking for the door with the orange circle.

In the silence of the night, their footsteps echoed loudly, making them fear that someone would show up at any moment and catch them. Luckily, the only security guard in the area had been tied up and gagged inside a supply closet—thanks to Warrick—so as long as they finished before the guard shift change, they’d be fine.

They reached the door with the orange circle. Elafi tried unlocking it using the technique Warrick had taught him, but his nerves made him clumsy, unable to force the lock.

"Let me try," said Fidi, handing him the flashlight. It didn’t take long before they heard a click.

They stepped into the dark room. Elafi felt along the wall and flipped the switch. A yellow ceiling light flickered on, revealing a nearly empty room, except for a square metal cage in the center. Inside was a large crouching figure that stirred when they entered, bringing with it the clinking of chains.

"And who might you be?" came a deep voice, almost a growl.

The person inside the cage wasn’t Tigri. He was a large, gray-haired man with furry ears on his head, a long orange tail, and black stripes painted across the skin of his broad arms. He had a thick beard covering half his face, but it didn’t hide the large scar that ran across it.

At the sight of him, Fidi felt her heart stop.

Not him, not him, not him, not him...

It wasn’t until Elafi’s hands touched her shoulders that her spiraling thoughts finally settled, bringing her back to reality.

"Let’s free him and keep looking," said the deer boy firmly.

"So you plan to escape and free us?" The tiger man let out a raspy chuckle. "I admire your bravery."

They broke the padlock on the cage and the chains binding the tiger chimera’s wrists and ankles. The man stepped out and stretched—enormous. He was far taller than Warrick and almost twice as wide, making Elafi wonder how they’d even gotten him into that cage, which now looked tiny in comparison. The tiger man yawned, revealing massive, razor-sharp fangs.

"Sir, you’re free," said Elafi. "You can go if you want. We’re going to free everyone."

The tiger man looked at the chimera teens with intense green eyes.

"Well, for the favor you’ve done this old guy, I’ll help you if you need it."

"Thank you so much!" said Elafi, smiling.

"Do you know if there are any more tiger chimeras trapped here?" asked Fidi.

The man scratched one of his ears.

"More tigers? I wouldn’t know. It’s not like they let us interact with other prisoners. But that’s fine by me—meant I didn’t have to share a room during my stay here."

He laughed loudly. Fidi and Elafi exchanged glances, both thinking the same thing: "This guy is nuts."

Wasting no more time, they went on to open and enter the remaining rooms to free the chimeras trapped inside. Little by little, the hallway filled with people of all ages—some wandering in confusion, others clinging to the walls not knowing what to do, and some crying with gratitude.

They were only a few doors from the end of the hallway, and still no sign of the tiger boy they searched. Elafi couldn’t help feeling bad as he saw Fidi’s face grow more anxious with each door they passed.

Finally, they entered a room with a yellow circle. On one of the mattresses was a thin man with horse hooves instead of feet, who flinched when he heard them enter, and on the other mattress...

"Fidi?"

"Tigri!"

The tiger boy stood up from the old mattress he’d been lying on. Fidi didn’t waste a second running to hug her friend, who would have returned the gesture gladly if not for the shackles on his wrists. Even so, his face shifted from initial shock to a smile of complete happiness.

Elafi recognized that expression—the same cheerful boy from the "Missing" poster he had seen back at the cabin—and in that moment, a warm feeling wrapped around his heart, too.

"How...? What...? W-what are you doing here?" asked Tigri, still unable to shake off his disbelief. The last time he had seen his friend, she’d been swallowed by the dark waters of the river—but now she was standing right in front of him, safe and sound, and clearly not as a prisoner.

“We came to save you,” said Fidi, regaining her confident tone.

“We came to save everyone,” added Elafi, finishing cutting the chains that held down the horse man, then doing the same for the tiger boy.

Once free from his shackles, Tigri hugged Fidi. Tears began to stream from both their eyes.

“We’ll catch up later. Right now, we have to get out of here,” urged the snake girl before pulling away.

Almost as if that had been a signal, screams and commotion suddenly echoed down the hallway.

“Subtlety’s over,” Warrick appeared under the doorframe, his backpack slung over one shoulder and a pair of bolt cutters still in his hand. “We must go. Now.”

The sense of urgency was palpable, and the three youths didn’t hesitate to follow him.

Warrick had just freed a mouse boy locked in the last room with the green circle when he heard shouting. He peeked out into the hall and, to his horror, saw a group of armed security guards approaching.

“Catch them all! Use the tranquilizer darts!”

Warrick knew then that their time was up. He sent a quick message to Patrick and ran off to find the children. Fortunately, he found them quickly—and even better, with the tiger boy they’d been looking for. Maybe that was the last bit of luck they’d have that night.

“Subtlety’s over,” he said. “We must go. Now.”

Outside, chaos reigned as the freed chimeras ran in every direction, crashing into each other while the guards opened fire.

“Just sedate and capture them! They’re valuable cargo—we can’t damage them!”

“But we can damage you,” growled a voice. Suddenly, a massive man, half tiger, launched himself at the guards with his claws unsheathed. With a single swipe, he threw one to the ground; with a lash of his tail, he disarmed another. He plowed through his enemies like a bowling ball through pins, roaring with laughter the entire time.

“This is our chance to get out,” said Warrick, taking advantage of the distraction. Elafi, Fidi, and Tigri followed him, running toward the building’s exit where Patrick waited in the getaway vehicle.

On the way, they collided with other prisoners trying to escape and dodged unconscious bodies unlucky enough to be hit by tranquilizer darts. Elafi could only hope most of them would escape safely, feeling powerless as he ran, tail tucked. I can’t save them all. Not now. Not like this, he told himself with disappointment.

The chaos had already attracted the attention of the rest of the hotel staff, who quickly called for reinforcements while trying to keep guests away. Still, the screams echoed through the walls, and people began peeking from windows and corridors, trying to understand what was happening.

Luckily, the group didn’t encounter major obstacles, and soon the door to the loading area came into view. Only a few meters separated them from freedom when—

“Tigri!” shouted Fidi, stopping in her tracks.

The tiger boy had dropped to one knee, his face contorted in pain. Sticking out of his back was the tip of a tranquilizer dart.

Suddenly, two guards appeared down the corridor, blocking their path and raising their dart guns. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Catch them!”

That was when Fidi lunged forward, moving with astonishing speed, almost as if she’d slid across the floor. In under a second, she reached the closest guard and bit his arm. He let out a scream of pain, dropping the weapon from his now numb fingers.

The second guard grabbed Fidi’s head and slammed it against the wall, trying to pull the pest off his partner, but the girl held on, coiling herself around her victim and biting down harder—even as blood streamed down the side of her face.

“Damn vermin!”

The second guard raised his weapon to shoot, but Fidi released her first target and turned to face him. Her mouth opened wider and wider into a red, sinister grin—as if her face had split in half. Her jaw unhinged impossibly far, and then she bit the second guard’s face. More screams followed, along with a wet, sickening crunch. Then the second guard collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, while his companion writhed beside him, whimpering in agony.

At that moment, a third guard came running down the hall. At the sight of the horrific scene, he raised his weapon toward Fidi—

But then a deep, animalistic growl sounded. Tigri lunged forward on all fours, leaping at the man with a beastly roar and claws bared. The guard managed to fire a single shot that missed Tigri by inches before the chimera tackled him to the floor, plunging his claws into the man’s chest and biting into his throat. A final shriek echoed through the hall.

Warrick stood frozen, watching the massacre unfold. It’s like watching a predator hunt and devour its prey, he thought. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen something like this—but it was definitely the first time he’d really seen it. A shiver ran down his spine. He looked at Elafi still beside him, and saw the deer boy standing motionless, eyes fixed on the other chimeras. His face was expressionless, his gaze both focused and vacant. Blood began to drip from his nostrils.

Suddenly, a memory flashed in Warrick’s mind: trees moving as if invisible hands were pulling them, attacking Cazador until he bled.

Warrick swallowed hard. Carefully, he placed a hand on Elafi’s shoulder and gently shook him.

“Elafi,” he called calmly.

The deer boy twitched and blinked, as if waking from a dream, and looked at Warrick in confusion.

Fidi and Tigri also stepped back, away from their now-lifeless victims.

“W-what happened?” asked Tigri, staring at his blood-stained claws. His mouth also tasted like blood.

Fidi’s face was smeared with it too—across her cheeks, in her mouth, and trickling from the wound on her temple.

“Let’s go,” Warrick urged, guiding the kids toward the exit. They reached the loading area quickly—empty and silent compared to the chaos in the rest of the hotel. They spotted the van at once, and Patrick opened the door, letting them into the back.

As soon as the vehicle started moving, the three chimera children collapsed, apparently unconscious, like machines that had had their batteries ripped out. All traces of energy and adrenaline were gone, leaving behind only the unbearable weight of exhaustion, fear, and stress. Warrick made sure none of them had serious injuries and then laid them down so they could rest.

“So… it worked?” asked Patrick from the driver’s seat. The hotel building was far, far behind them now.

Warrick tore off his wig and fake beard and tossed them aside. He sat down, his hands trembling slightly, and took a deep breath to steady himself. He looked at the three unconscious teenagers—safe, finally—and a deep sense of calm filled his heart.

“Yes… we did it.”

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba @morning-star-whump @lancedoncrimsonwings @3-2-whump. @whumped-by-glitter @string-of-broken-hearts @alyscat @oddsconvert @what-if-i-just-did @bacillusinfection @writinglittlepains @washing---machine @bilightningwhumper @enasolos @inhurtandincomfort

Thank you so much to everyone who has reached this point in the story. It truly makes my heart happy. The next chapter will be something of an epilogue, bringing this first season to a close. Thank you so much for reading!⭐

#chimeras universe #chimera children #whump #whump community #whump writing #whumblr #my ocs #original story #oc whump #original whump #multiple whumpees #nonhuman whumpee #my original characters #my writing #Elafi oc #Ofidia oc #Tigri oc #Warrick oc

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all-pacas · 3 months ago

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maybe cameron finding out about the groundskeeper's wife situation? in an angsty way ofc

dfgdf see the problem is that a) i'm sure she had to find out on some level because apparently he has visible butt scars and she has very canonically and repeatedly seen him naked eyoo but b) cameron is also the worst person for this scenario because she actually is sane enough to be like "huh! sounds like grooming :)" and he'd be all "no it was a secret third thing" and next thing you know she's dragged him to therapy LMAO therefore,

It's a cliche but they revel in it: spending days that summer in his bed or hers, in baths and showers and a time or two on the floor. Counting freckles, examining birthmarks and scars. He'd made a joke about it the first time: she had just asked him about the scar on his cheek, the question an excuse for a kiss: "I have one on my ass, too, if you'd like."

"Pervert," she'd laughed, shoving him.

But the next time they shower — together, because lately that's all they want to do — she notices it, jagged and white, obvious when she knows what to look for. She knows how he got the scar on his cheek, the pockmarks on his elbow, a gash on his left calf, half a dozen faded marks from other childhood mishaps: she knows he had once fallen out a window, broken an ankle leaping from a roof, dislocated a shoulder in a skiing accident. Chase is reckless, somewhat prone to impulsive feats of athleticism. But he'd never mentioned this.

She isn't worried: she's curious. Intends to ask him, but when she reaches out, fingers tracing along the faint divots in his flesh, he gets entirely the wrong impression, and — well — it isn't like Cameron is in a rush to correct the misunderstanding.

"How did you get that scar?" she asks him, considerably later.

Chase is lying on his stomach, arms tucked under his head and the pillow; he hums, shivers a little when she pulls the sheets away: the room is warm but he is unabashed in his looks and nakedness that Cameron isn't, has never been.

"An ex," he says after a moment.

"An ex?" she repeats incredulously: her mind leaps to his nebulous connection to the BDSM scene, but everything Cameron knows about that lifestyle precludes permanent scarring.

He turns his head, peers at her through his bangs, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I was… involved with a woman," he says finally, slowly, testing each word before he says it. "She was married."

"You were part of an affair?" She is trying not to sound scandalized, judgemental: she is. She feels a prickle of outrage, of annoyance, less at the sanctity of marriage but out of disappointment in Chase, who she knows is not always the most stringently moral, but — the risk, the heartbreak, the stupidity — but she does not want to be angry at him, to think of him like this: she slips out of bed with the excuse of redressing, reminded of nothing but Joe, but her husband dying in a hospital bed, how much she had wanted —

"It was a bad marriage," he says flatly. "She was unhappy."

"So you helped her ruin it," she says, flinty, and regrets it at once: she is not angry at Chase, she tells herself, and Chase rolls away from her, suddenly mysteriously deaf as she pulls on one of his tee-shirts, her underwear.

"It was a mistake. I was - a kid," he says: she assumes he means in college, twenty, twenty-one. Her age, when — old enough to know better.

"Right," she forces herself to say, and sits back on the edge of the bed, watching Chase's back. Facing away, she can see the scars — now that she knows what to look for. He was young. He did something stupid. He regrets it, she tells herself. She thinks of Joe. How close they — "and the scars?"

"Her husband caught us," he says finally.

She and Joe had kissed. Once. One time. Two days before her husband died, and for weeks after it had seemed predetermined, as though somehow he had known. They had been outside the hospital. Walking in circles, talking about everything but the obvious. She had kissed him and he had kissed back and had they not been in the open, in public —

She imagines Chase. She imagines her husband seeing it, her and Joe, her and Chase. He's been dead a decade and she still feels the guilt, the disloyalty —

"Anyway, they're still married, last I heard," Chase says coldly. "So it all worked out."

She never spoke to Joe again after the funeral. He'd called her for weeks after, and she'd felt awful, known she was being cruel, being unkind. Last she heard, Joe was married. Had two kids.

"I'm sorry," she says, and means it, but Chase stays quiet, and when she climbs back into bed and puts her arm around him, he neither responds or answers.

#maybe someday! i will write a version! where he mentions 'btw i was 17 and she was 38' and cameron has a meltdown but!!!!#malpractice posting

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wandanatsbaby · 2 years ago

Note

Hey saw that you were taking requests for Lexa so here i am ! could you write smth about soft lexa and an oc or freader grounder that is really pretty and like soft for a grounder ? thankksss :))

Soft Grounder

Pairing: Lexa x Reader

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lexa watches on with a smile as the night bleeders braid your hair and put little flowers in it. She has a small smile on her face as she watches you interact with them envisioning your future and wondering what you would be like if you both had kids.

Walking up to lexa with a smile you wrap your arms around her as no one is looking and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Good evening Heda.”

“Good evening Hodnes. Join me for lunch? The sky crew will be joining as well.” You nod and follow beside her as she leads you to the dining area. You look around and give Clarke a small wave as you see her sitting with who you recognize as Bellamy.

Lexa pulls out a chair for you at the head of the table and then makes her way to the other end. You never liked having to sit far from her but you knew it was tradition for the Commander's partner to be at the other end.

The night went on pretty smooth with everyone talking and chatting but throughout it all you could spot Bellamy giving you weird glances and whispering stuff to Clarke which made you nervous.

“Bellamy, is there a problem?” Lexa asks as she had seemingly noticed the looks and whispers.

“No Heda I just-”

“Just what? You’ve been giving my wife weird looks all night and whispering to Clarke. I'd like to hear what you have to say.” You send an uneasy look to Lexa not sure you want to hear what the boy was saying about you.

“I was just saying that well. Ive never met a grounder as sweet as her I mean the other day I say her with one of the guys at a stall and she was very sweet.”

Then

“Excuse me. Do you happen to have any more of this?” you asked, pointing to the object you wanted.

“sha hang ona” (Yes hang on) The guy pulled more of the material out and looked at you expectedly.

“What would you like? I have some medicine that Nyko gave me. I also have some jewelry.” The man just politely asked for one of the rings on your fingers but you just gave him a smile and handed him two rings and a bag of different medicine that Nyko had given you. The man tried to deny it but you insisted but ended up walking out with the object you had wanted and a bird that he said was made by his wife. The bird now sat on a stand in your and Lexas room.

Now.

“Is there a problem with that?” Lexa started standing up at this point ready to defend you by all means.

“Lexa its okay. Calm down.” The girl did not even spare you a glance as she stared the boy down and you watched him visibly gulp as he shrunk a little in his seat. Clarke trying to control her laughter beside him

“NO! Of course not! I mean its amazing how she acts with Night bleeders. They all looked so happy the other day when she was playing with them”

Then

“Kwin (Queen) Y/n will you please come play with us?” Aden asked as the other children gave you pleading looks. Will a laugh you agreed and ended up chasing them through Polis as many people watched on with small smiles as well.

As you were chasing a younger girl she had ended up tripping on a rock and landing on her knees. She let out a soft cry before covering it up.

“Oh no ash are you okay?” you asked the young girl as you crouched in front of her. You could see the tears in her eyes and the way she tried to hide them. She nodded slowly and looked at you. You attempted to help her stand but quickly swept her into your arms at the sounds of her cries of pain and quickly took her to Niko’s tent to get her seen.

She had made you promise not to leave her until she was allowed to go back to her room with the other Night bleeders and you gladly accepted. You ended up being there for an hour as she had a sprained ankle and needed some rest. You then escorted her to her room and gave her a small kiss on the head.

Now

Lexa turns to Clarke now wanting to know if this information is true.

“Is this true wanheda?” Clarke gives a nod and a slight laugh while looking back to Bellamy's shaking figure.

“Yes Heda its true.”

“Very well then. Just know if anyone were to ever threaten her or anything it would be against the rules and you would be killed immediately.” Bellamy Gave an Immediate nod and gave you a small apology as he continued to eat.

#the 100 lexa x reader #lexa kom trikru #commander lexa #lexa x female reader #lexa x fem reader #lexa x reader #heda lexa #the 100 lexa #lexa kom trikru x fem reader #lexa x y/n #lexa x you #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #the 100 fics #the 100

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fastcardotmp3 · 4 months ago

Text

wip wednesday ✨

tagged by beloved @lookforanewangle 🩵✨🕺

and I won't bother everyone with a tag, but if you see this consider it your sign to share something!

a little something from season 4(b) ~(all my friends) style mwah!

“He’s a good man,” Eddie says, because it’s true even if it’s also something of a nonsequitur.

“Yeah, I know,” Taylor says on a breath, deeply melancholy as she flicks the ash off the end of her cigarette and takes her turn looking out at the street. She shrugs, almost self-deprecating in the staccato of it, and murmurs, “turns out good guys aren’t really my type.”

When Eddie came out tonight he wasn’t expecting to find himself experiencing empathy for Taylor Kelly to the point where it almost knocks him off his feet.

He stands in it though. It reaches about his ankles, not impossible to wade through by any means, but noticeable all the same.

There’s a story to her, Taylor Kelly, which Eddie has never really considered before. There’s a story that he sees, with a widening of his eyes as she visibly lets the moment slide off her shoulder and rights herself to stand straighter, one arm crossed over her chest and the prop of her other elbow in the shelf of it as she smokes.

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Really?” she looks at him, all tired intrigue. Story eyes searching his profile like a tangible thing. “What’s your type, Eddie Diaz? That one’s always thrown me for a loop.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, too loud but uncontainable.

“What?” she chuckles, borderline startled. “You ashamed of it or something?”

“Can’t be ashamed of something that doesn’t exist,” he deadpans. “The only woman I’ve ever even kissed was my dead wife. I haven’t really thought about defining a type, Taylor Kelly.”

“Do you think about me like that in your head? First name-last name all the time?” she snorts. “Like I’m a comic book character or something?”

“Or something,” he mutters, letting his head tip back to rest against the brick in a moment of reprieve, however brief.

He can feel her looking at him, the contemplation that stretches out before she asks, “have you really only ever kissed one woman?”

Eddie rocks the back of his skull against the wall to look at her with raised eyebrows.

“The teen dad who got married young and joined the army not having a lot of dating experience isn’t exactly breaking news, is it?”

“Fair enough,” she laughs on an exhale. “I mean, you’ve got a leg up on me in some ways. I didn’t have sex at all in high school.”

“Really?”

Too much surprise in his tone, she shoots him a look, but she’s still got laughter on her breath when she points out, “you’re not the only one who had shit going on when you were a teenager, Eddie Diaz.”

Full name. Like a comic book character.

#dot fic #wip game #all my friends fic #buddie #eddie diaz

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call-me-ninaaa · 8 months ago

Text

DODGE-A-LEEN-TOURNAMENT - henry hart x fem!reader

you were currently at the dodge-a-leen tournament with your two friends, who you promised to join their team as they wanted to win of course, and with you on their team the two girls had no doubt you guys would win.

''hey, i see some friends, i'll go talk to them real quick, 'm gonna be right back okay?'' you announced, leaving after getting a nod from both ashley and aaliyah, making your way to henry, who was talking with three people in purple shirts, jasper and piper no where to be seen.

''hey hen, you never told me you would compete, neither did you char.'' smiling as you talked, the two men beside charlotte visibly wearing wigs, looked shocked, and just then did you notice the pants from the shorter man down to his ankles, although he didn't bother pulling them up, which you ignored for now.

''ooh, hey, yeah, but you didn't tell us you were competing either, so we're kinda even right?'' henry replied startled by your sudden appearance, making you chuckle as charlotte started talking.

''ugh, finally, i was going insane surrounded by boys only, you're the only girl i can tolerate.'' she groaned, walking towards you as she gave you a hug, leaning her whole weight on you sighing, knowing she had no intention to let go that soon, you continued speaking, arms still around the girl's waist, not paying any mind to her actions as she played with your hair.

''uh, i take that as a compliment i guess?'' it came out like a question, nonetheless you spoke again, this time asking a question towards henry.

''anyway, who are these guys with horrible wigs if you don't mind me asking.'' it may have sounded like a rude comment, but you were just curious to know,

''uhh, well this here is my boss ray manchester, from junk'n'stuff, and that here is schwoz, he also sort of works for ray.'' henry figured there was no harm in telling you their names, it's not like he outwardly told you schwoz sort of works there because he builds things for ray who is also captain man, which would make him kid danger.

''ohh, well if you ever need help with wigs, makeup or anything that has something to do with hiding your identity- i mean who you really are- uh i mean what you look like, i'd be happy to help, no offense but your fake hair looks nothing like real hair, which makes it noticeable that you're hiding your real selves. anyway, i am gonna go back to my team, char you comin'?'' you accidentally almost said too much, so you hoped they won't overthink your words and just shrugged it off. receiving a hum from the girl, she let go of you which gave you the opportunity to give henry a quick side hug before going back to your team with charlotte.

''hey, did you guys just notice that?'' henry asked the two men in front of him, all three staring in your direction.

''yeah, charlotte has never just hugged anyone, especially for that long, and your girlfriend didn't even mind.'' schwoz was the first to speak up, thinking henry was asking because of that.

''no schwoz he's talking about how his girlfriend told us how to do our hair and that she would do our hair and makeup, she indirectly insulted us man!'' ray replied directly after him, making henry not only confused but also annoyed with the two.

''what? no! first of all she is not my girlfriend, and second of all, she corrected herself two times, first she said to hide you identity, then who you really are, and then what you look like, i don't know about you guys but i think that was a little suspicious, don't ya think?'' henry revealed, not knowing why they thought you were his girlfriend.

''really? i still think she's your girlfriend.'' schwoz shrugged, ignoring whatever he said after the 'second of all' which was the more important thing in that situation.

''she said that? well kid i don't really think her slip-up is something we should worry about, right now, we are about to beat your ass in this game.'' ray shrugged, the referee talking as charlotte came back to her team and piper and jasper back to henry, listening as the referee talked about the rules and how everything was going to play out, just like the day before.

after that the semi finale begun, though there has been a slight mix up, the jumping jaspers won against the bro force one, but they still had to compete against your team.

as you all made your way to the trampoline, henry walked beside you.

''you know my team is gonna win this right?'' he spoke with confidence, not a single doubt in his mind, his superpower being the reason for it.

''oh hen, you haven't seen me play yet, but guess what? now so many people will be able to see your downfall. and btw, too much confidence is a big turn off for girls.'' you winked, patting his shoulder as the referee once again explained the rules.

''all right! both teams! i want a good clean match! no spittin'! no ball slappin'! no nose pickin'! HEYYYYYY! no flirting!'' garth yelled out, looking at you and henry.

''we weren't even flirting!'' you both defended yourselves, arms up in the air in frustration, oddly in sync.

''pfft, yeah, he was ripping your clothes off with his eyes.'' ashley said quietly, only loud enough for you and aaliyah to hear.

as aaliyah laughed at her comment, you glared at both of them as they mumbled out an apology.

''okay, ready? and, DODGE!'' he blew the whistle before saying dodge with his hand out, the balls came down from the ceiling and so the battle begun.

there were balls flying everywhere, though you and your team didn't mind at all, if anything, it made your will to win stronger.

you must say, the jumping jaspers were better than you thought, but after some time you caught both jaspers and pipers balls that they threw at you at the same time, just as henry caught ashley's and aaliyah's balls also at the same time.

"you're out, you're out, you're out and you're out!" garth pointed at piper and jasper and then at ashley and aaliyah, all four of them leaving, just you and henry left.

as henry made a motion for you to shoot the ball, you only shook your head no smirking, your hand making a signal as if to say he could go first, so he did, you dodged every single one though, really fast he might add, which confused him a little because he should be the only one who could move that fast, due to his hyper motility, so why were you able to do the same if you hadn't got any powers, or at least that's what he thought.

as you began shooting balls at him, he also dodged every single one, his movements mimicking yours seconds before.

''you're good hart, but i'm better, i'm not even trying and still winning.'' just as you said that he shot a ball in your direction, and if you wouldn't of had fast reflexes, it would of have hit you right in the face, but you dodged, falling on your back and standing right up, smirking.

"y'know what you should never do? be too sure about yourself.'' henry used your distraction and hit the ball with his foot, which he was so sure would hit you, of course he was wrong.

"pfft, you really thought i would just let you win that easily? you need to try better next time hen." you caught the ball with ease, the referee yelling an 'you're out!' one last time, directed to henry before you spoke with confidence, smirk plastered on your face, winking before celebrating with ashley and aaliyah who came back onto the trampoline, jumping around in excitement.

"oh man! we were so close to winning!" he was lying flat on his back, a defeated look on his face, jasper and piper sitting around him telling him it was okay and that they could just always try it out another time.

sighing, he stood up, congratulating you and making his way to the man cave, the only thing in his mind being you.

specifically the way you dodged every single ball so easily, just like he did, which a normal person couldn't do, so he made a mental note to just bring it up the next time he saw you, casually just asking how you could move that fast.

henry hoped of a honest answer, but doubted he would get one, still, he had to try and get it out of you, for the sake of his secret identity, along with ray's.

okay that's it! there aren't enough henry hart fanfictions out there so i thought i would give it a try.

not proof read! if there is anything you don't understand please tell me i'd be happy to help!

if you got any requests feel free to either comment or if you want it to be anonymous ask in my inbox, either way i will see it.

i'm planning on writing for more people other than henry hart and the sturniolo triplets, though i'd have to make a list and find the time, time i don't know if i'll have, i'm still going to collage, and have many exams coming up, but i'll find time like i always do.

anyway, thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed!

-nina out🤍

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nomoreusername · 1 month ago

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Could Be's

Pairing:Minho x Thomas

Summary:Thomas knows Minho will never escape his mind.

@thominho-week-2025

⚠️ Child abuse⚠️

Thomas laid in his bed, staring at his blank ceiling. There was the usual pit in his stomach, a burning sickness gnawing at his heart. The cars were racing outside his window, their hoodlights forcing brightness in his dark room.

Despite the remote right beside him, the ability to distract himself from the agony, he was playing a story of his own. One that made the void grow as he was filled with could be’s.

Of all the ways to meet the neighbors, this has to be the most interesting one. After all, it's not every day a nine year old breaks into your window, ducking low and holding his breath.

Stephon stared at the boy, eyes glistening with concern and curiosity. He had been told all about stranger danger, but those stories were always a grown man asking if he wanted to see puppies or someone with a lollipop. He wasn't sure anybody his age really counted.

The dark haired boy was breathing heavily, eyes downcast on the blue carpet. His cheeks were red, face hot with adrenaline and fear that was gradually creeping out of his system. His legs burned from his sprint down stairs, out the door, and four houses down through a window. The fingerprints on his arm were hidden by his long-sleeved pajamas, something he was still planning on keeping his mouth shut about.

“Hi?”

Slowly, like one wrong move would get him hurt here too, he raised his head. His eyes were a dark brown, barely lighter than his hair. Stephon was sure those were the darkest eyes he’d ever seen. Minho was sure he was figuring out every last secret just by looking at him.

“Hi,”He finally greeted back, voice still shaky.

“Why are you in my room?”

“Figured I could decorate it better,”He deflected. Successfully too as the boy let out a small laugh before sitting up, crossing his legs as he smiled. Minho managed a half one back for a moment before leaning against the white wall filled to the brim with animal and superhero posters and taking a breath.

“Stephon, it's time for-”

His mom froze as she swung the door open, eyes widening at the unexpected sight. Minho's face paled as his small hands balled into protective fists, all hint of casualness disappearing at the sight of an adult he didn't know he could trust.

Sighing, she ran her hand through her messy brunette hair, visibly exhaling as her cheeks deflated. Looking between her boy and the stranger, she figured that while it may be added stress, he wasn't any capable of harm.

“Do you boys want some breakfast? We’ve got frozen waffles and Honey Nut Cheerios?”

Right on cue, Minho’s stomach growled, answering for him.

“Alright. What’ll it be for you?”

“Waffles.”

“Alright. Waffles it is,”She accepted, walking over to her kitchen to make them.

“I like waffles too,”Stephon announced.

“It's nice to know someone around here has good taste.”

It became official that day, a decision involving Stephon and his family that he had no clue about. They were Minho’s safe haven, a place where he could escape. Even so, he was constantly training himself to be stronger. He would run until his feet were blistered and lift until his arms were going to give out.

He was stronger than his excuse of a father. He made sure of it.

His real family didn't notice the marks since they were less and less and he was so great at hiding them. They didn't know how much they actually meant.

“You’re gonna lose,”He taunted. His friend went to shove him off the sofa, making Minho yell as he stood on the couch, the remote held high as he focused on the screen. Realizing he couldn't play dirty in the real world, he threw a turtle shell at him. The muscular boy did his best to avoid it, but alas, that was never meant to be.

Stephon grabbed his ankle, causing him to look down in surprise. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he firmly pulled. No amount of reaction time would have been good enough as Minho was falling, his best friend pulling his leg out more so his head would land on the cushions. Still, he landed with an audible but not painful thud as Stephon was on top of him, hands reaching for the controller.

Minho wasn't laughing anymore. He was too busy staring in awe as his friend was oblivious to everything but the playful game. His brunette hair was messy but still out of his soft caramel eyes. His skin was clear except for his cheeks, still flushed from their run half an hour ago. His smile was wide as could be, teeth white as ever as his laugh brightened up the room.

When his hand clasped around the controller suspiciously easily, he looked at him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Minho's heart started racing as he became painfully aware how close they were. Not close in the way that used to occur all the time at his government house.

No. Close like when he would sleep beside him at night, head buried under the covers as they whispered stories until the sun arose. Close like when they would swim down at the lake, splashing at and surprise tackling the other between races and snack breaks. Close like when they’d sit next to each other in class, exchanging glances each time they wanted to say something they weren't allowed to.

Close like him and Stephon.

“Are you okay?”

It was the first time Minho could actually remember being so vulnerable, his voice breaking off. Closing his eyes, he took a breath before walking down his driveway. Trailing up the familiar path that always filled him with relief, he met him halfway. Their arms wrapped around each other, a tight embrace that they deserved to stay in forever.

As he did his best to wrack his brain for an answer, Stephon's dad walked in, his arms full of groceries. He didn't notice the two boys' position, giving them time to pull apart as they were both overcome with the feeling of doing something wrong.

“There are a few more in the car.”

Minho liked him. He was an older gentleman with hair that was starting to gray. His voice was always a little gruff despite the kindness it was filled with. He welcomed him with open arms, taking him on trips and always answering any questions he finally built up the ability to last.

In that moment, he couldn't help but resent his presence.

Maybe he was right for that. Or maybe it wouldn't have made a difference at all. Three months isn't exactly a lot of time to build a romantic relationship. Jumping from possibly being the other's first kiss to long distance would definitely have some setbacks, barriers that may have been impossible to overcome.

Stephon felt his world shatter as his friend's stuff was being loaded into a moving van. His heart broke in his chest as his legs threatened to give out, eyes stinging with tears.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Stephon knew what he wanted to say. He knew the only words that would feel right. Just three letters, three syllables.

“I’ll miss you too.”

Closing his eyes, Minho squeezed his shoulders as he gritted his teeth to stop his tears. Some part of him was filled with a distressed fire, an anger that he wasn't hearing the one thing he actually wanted to.

Then again, he wasn't exactly saying it either.

Opening his eyes and staring at his ceiling again, Thomas found his eyes growing wet with the same tears he always carried. Moving away and changing his name did nothing to make him forget. No situation or item in the world was capable of that.

He had cursed himself to an eternity of wondering what could have been.

#the maze runner #tmr #thominhoweek2025 #tw abuse #childhood friends au #pure angst #hurt/no comfort #one shot #thominho #thomas x minho

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kaziwi · 2 years ago

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Hellooo!!! may I request a luffy, zoro, and law with fem!reader whos rlly shy and she will just will throw gifts or little notes that say “love u” at him and runs away or hides 😭

separate pls but also if u don’t wanna do all three u can do one! whatever works for u❤️

Shy Reader Who Gives Gifts/Notes To Them

Hiii!!! Thank you for being my first ask!! I couldn't really think of any ideas for Luffy, so I just wrote for Zoro and Law. I apologize for the long wait and I hope you enjoy!

Character(s): Zoro, Law

WC: 1.4k

Zoro

You've had the biggest crush on Zoro for longer than you can remember. The Strawhats had saved your island and invited you to join along, and with this HUNK of a man there who could say no.

You wanted to talk with him so bad, but he was always training and it was just so awkward...you didn't wanna risk a conversation that was mostly silent.

After going to Nami for advice, you decided the best way to communicate would be little notes! Nothing could go wrong...right..?

"321...322...323..." Zoro was in the crows nest, training as per usual. Right now he had so many weights on his back while doing pushups that he couldn't even look up from the floor. He heard the door to the crow's nest creek open, but he didn't have the strength to break his workout and look up to see who it is.

"Oi, who's there?" He asked, but got no reply. He heard someone walking towards him, but couldn't make out who's footsteps they were. The person came close to him, then ran back to the ladder and climbed down the crows nest. Zoro thought it was a bit weird, but maybe it was Chopper dropping off some water, or Usopp searching for Luffy in their daily game of hide and seek. Whatever he thought, as he finished his workout. When he finally put down his weights, he noticed a small note taped onto one of the weights.

"Love u"

What.

Zoro looked at the note like it was in another language. Whatever, someone probably left it as a joke. He went back to training, crumpling the note and throwing it to the corner of the crow's nest.

He thought that would be the last he thought of the note, but that was before he found 4 more in the past hour. Each had the same words, "love u", and it was starting to piss him off. Of course he appreciated the gesture, but he was confused on who in the crew would leave him these notes. Nami???? No, she wouldn't, and if she did she'd charge him for it. Luffy?? No, his handwriting isn't even legible. This was going to bother him all day, so he decided to catch the culprit in the act.

He decided to lay on the side of the railing and take a short "nap." It took about an hour, but he soon noticed someone's presence approaching him. Quietly, the person crept near him and placed a small note on the ground next to him, but just before they turned to walk away, Zoro grabbed their ankle and pulled them down. When he opened his eyes, he never expected to see you there.

"Y/N??? Oi are you ok?" Zoro hastily helped you up. "Shit I am so sorry."

"Its fine.." you quietly reply, he had caught you in the act, you had no idea what to say. It was quiet for a few minutes till Zoro spoke up.

"So...you were the one leaving those notes...right?"

"Yeah..it was me.." you mumbled, looking down at the ground. You were finished, he knew, he probably thought you were weird now and would never want to-

"Next time...sign your name.." You looked up at him, a glimmer of hope in your eye. His face was visibly flustered as he said, "I'm glad those notes were from you ya know, anyone else on this ship leaving them would be weird..."

"Okay...I'll make sure to sign my name next time.." You said, still intrigued by his flustered face. He noticed you staring and quickly walked away, covering his face. You kept leaving notes for him and even small gifts too, and even though you always ran away immediacy after, you always made sure to sign your name.

Law

Your captain was THE Trafalgar Law, like how could you not have a crush on him????

You were a good crewmate and did your job well around the ship, but whenever your captain praised you or tried to have a non-work related conversation, you just got so flustered you couldn't handle it.

Approaching him directly about your feelings wouldn't work...but you had another idea up your sleeve....

Law stopped looking at his clock a long time ago, all he knew was that it was late. He had stayed up late reading a new textbook he picked up at the last island, and the last time he checked the clock it was about 2:19 am.....but that was awhile ago. He swore he was going to go to sleep soon...he just wanted to read about 1 or 2 or 5 more chapters.

Knock Knock

Who the hell was knocking at his door at this hour??? Probably Bepo with a random nightmare he thought as he shuffled towards the door. Law opened it expecting a crying polar bear, but was shocked to see no one was there. He stepped out to see if someone could be down the hall, but his foot was met with a small box. Law picked up the box and looked around the hallway....no one was there. He shut the door to his room and examined the box. It looked.....normal..

Law slowly opened the box and found a small plush of a polar bear. Oh my god???? He loved it???? He examined it more and could tell it was obviously hand made. The stiches weren't perfect, but he could tell whoever made it put a lot of thought into it. He didn't know why someone would make him this, but he didn't really question it cause even though he loved the gift the textbook was calling his name.

Throughout the next week Law would receive a total of 23 gifts. Some being a small note attached with a piece of candy and others being big extravagant displays. He wanted to confront the crew about it and ask whoever it was to stop.....but in all honestly he loved these small gifts. Each one had their own thought to it and the person who gave them obviously knew his favorite things. He wanted to figure out who was giving these to him so he could thank them...and hopefully return the favor.

Law decided the best course of action was catching them in the act...so he set up baby Den Den Mushi's around the Polar Tang that would hopefully catch the perpetrator in the act. He waited till the next time he got a gift to check them, and when he was met with a box of chocolates at the foot of his door, he knew it was time to check.

Your plan had been going perfectly. Throughout the week you had been leaving Law little gifts, hoping that it would catch his attention. Everyone noticed the captain's mood boost throughout the week, so it was obvious your efforts weren't to waste. You wish he knew it was you though....but you never thought you'd have the courage to tell him.

You started to make your way to your room after dinner, when Law stopped you. The rest of the crew had left the kitchen, so it was only you and him.

"Um..is there something you needed captain?" you asked. Why had he pulled you aside?? There's no way he knows about the gifts right???

"Yes actually, I was just wondering when did you learn to sew?" Ok so he definitely knew. No, you could still save this.

"Sewing??? What are you talking about??? I can't sew-" You were cut off by Law shoving a baby Den Den Mushi in your face. He didn't have to play it for you to know you'd been caught.

"I just don't get it, why did you give me all those gifts. I appreciated them of course, but what was the occasion??" Law asked.

"I just wanted to show my appreciation towards you captain...and show how much I care for you.." you sheepishly say, looking down at the floor.

"Well....I'd love to return the favor...maybe I could take you out to dinner at the next island.." You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling. His face was clearly red, and seeing you staring at him made him even more flustered.

"Sure...I'd love that.." you said, letting a smile slip from your lips. Seems your efforts paid off...and it only took a few of sewing classes to do so.

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