#so my father was never allowed to cook with it and I had a trained on fear of it
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museenkuss · 2 years ago
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Hi ladies have you heard of putting garlic in dishes? Game changer.
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synity · 1 month ago
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Can you please write Y/N is a oldest daughter and Jun always by her side and help her with everything she need even when she never ask
OPEN ARMS
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(Wen Junhui x FemReader)
*Soft angst, comfort, slow romance*
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Being the eldest daughter meant a lot of things.
It meant folding clothes while your younger siblings watched cartoons. It meant wiping away your own tears so your mother didn’t have to worry. It meant walking on tiptoe around your father's moods, biting your tongue when you wanted to scream, and carrying burdens in silence because well, someone had to.
It meant growing up too fast.
You never had to be told twice that your role was to hold everything together.
And most days, you did it without thinking juggling school, work, home, helping your siblings with homework, taking care of your parents when they were tired, cooking dinner, managing bills. You did it all, smiled through it, even when your knees buckled under the weight.
But what no one ever seemed to notice… was how tired you really were.
Except for him.
Wen Junhui.
He wasn’t your boyfriend, at least not yet. You wouldn’t call him a best friend either. He was… just there. Like a quiet, steady wind in the background of your storm. You met him in university he’d been part of your theater class, always loud and smiling, while you were the silent, responsible one who came and left early to catch the train home.
But for some reason, he stayed.
And stayed.
Until it became normal for him to help you carry your books. To text you to eat. To drop off vitamin packets at your door during midterms. To walk you to the station even when you insisted he didn’t have to. To show up at your part-time job with hot tea and say, “Just happened to be around.”
But you knew better.
Jun always knew where to find you. And he always helped. Even when you never asked.
One rainy Wednesday night
You were carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and a stack of your sister’s school art supplies in the other, soaked to the bone. The strap of your bag had broken and your phone had died. Your chest ached from how tightly you were trying to hold everything together. The streetlights were flickering as you walked home, the wind sharp and cold, your arms trembling from the weight.
And suddenly
An umbrella covered you.
A familiar voice. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
You blinked, breath caught. “Jun, how did you?”
“I called. You didn’t pick up. So I came.” He took the grocery bag from you without waiting. His hand brushed yours warm, solid. “You should’ve called me.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you whispered, looking down.
His sigh was soft. “Y/N. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”
“I’m the eldest,” you replied without thinking, voice cracking on the edges. “It’s my job.”
Jun didn’t say anything for a moment. But then, he placed the umbrella handle in your hand and reached out gently wiping away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.
“You’re allowed to rest too.”
He was always there.
When your little brother got sick and you had to run between home and pharmacy, Jun was the one who showed up with soup and stayed to clean the dishes.
When your mother snapped at you during dinner out of her own stress, Jun held your hand under the table until it stopped shaking.
When your boss yelled at you unfairly and you cried in the breakroom, Jun was the first to show up outside with bubble tea and a stupid dance to make you smile.
He never asked anything in return.
Never once said, “You owe me.”
But one day, you broke.
It was after a long week your father had fallen ill, your sister was behind in school, and your manager had threatened to cut your hours.
You came home to find the water heater broken, and the living room flooded.
You sat on the floor, soaked, surrounded by the smell of damp socks and soap, and cried. The kind of crying that comes from the bones, from a place so tired it no longer remembers how to hope.
And just like always, Jun showed up.
“Where’s the mop?” he asked softly, crouching beside you.
You couldn’t even speak. Just shook your head, covering your face.
“I’m here,” he whispered, rubbing your back gently. “You don’t have to say anything.”
He didn’t ask questions. Just stood up, rolled up his sleeves, and started cleaning. You watched him through blurry eyes how careful he was, how gentle, how patient.
You didn’t realize how long he stayed until the living room was dry, your tears had stopped, and he was sitting beside you, arm loosely wrapped around your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you said hoarsely. “For always making you come save me.”
“You didn’t make me do anything,” Jun replied softly. “I wanted to.”
You looked up. His eyes were kind but serious.
“Do you know how strong you are, Y/N? How much I admire you?”
You didn’t speak. He reached over, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear.
“But even the strongest people need someone to lean on sometimes. Let me be that for you.”
Later that week, you asked him something.
“Why do you help me so much?”
Jun smiled, but it wasn’t playful this time. It was quiet. Honest.
“Because I see you.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I see you, Y/N. The way you carry everyone. The way you smile when you’re hurting. The way you give and give, even when you’re running on empty. I see it.”
And then, softer: “And I love you for it.”
Your heart stopped.
“I don’t want anything from you,” he said, eyes gentle. “I just want to be by your side. To be the person you don’t have to be strong around.”
Years later
When you stood at the altar, dressed in white, you remembered every moment Jun had been there.
When your father gave you away, his hands trembling with age, you remembered how Jun had helped you convince him to take his medication.
When your little sister hugged you tightly, crying happy tears, you remembered how Jun helped her pass her exams when you couldn’t.
And when Jun held your hands in his, whispering vows you didn’t need to hear to believe you smiled.
Because in a world where you had to be strong for everyone…
He had always been strong for you.
And the best part was you never had to ask.
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finelinefae · 1 year ago
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the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]
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synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.
word count: 8.5k
contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma
This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!
. . .
Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 
“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 
He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 
“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 
Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.
“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 
“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 
“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 
Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 
Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.
“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.
“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.
George nodded, “Last time I heard.”
“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.
Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.
Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 
“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 
“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”
George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 
Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 
. . .
“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 
“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.
“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”
Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 
“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 
Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 
Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 
As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 
Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 
Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 
“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 
“M her brother,” He corrected. 
“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 
“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 
“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”
“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 
“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.
“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 
Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.
“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 
“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 
“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 
“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 
Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 
Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 
She paused, “Any friends?” 
“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”
“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 
“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 
“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 
“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 
Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”
Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”
“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 
“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 
“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 
“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 
Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.
Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”
“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.
“I can believe that,” She yelled back.
“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.
Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.
Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.
On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 
The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 
Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.
“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”
“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 
“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 
“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 
Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 
“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 
“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 
“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.
“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 
Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”
“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 
“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”
“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 
“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”
Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 
“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 
Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 
“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”
“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.
“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 
Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”
“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 
Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 
Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.
"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.
Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."
Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."
With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.
Keep away from Harry Styles. 
. . .
The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 
This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 
Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 
Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 
Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 
Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 
Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 
Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 
He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 
The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 
“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 
“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 
“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 
George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 
Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 
George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 
The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 
George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”
Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”
“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.
“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”
Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 
“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”
“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 
“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 
“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.
“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.
“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”
“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.
. . .
Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 
She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 
Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 
It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 
Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 
Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 
Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 
“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.
“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.
“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 
“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 
“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 
“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 
“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 
Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.
Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 
“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 
“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 
Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 
Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.
“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 
“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”
“A few?” Patsy giggled.
“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 
Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 
“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 
“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 
Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”
“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.
Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”
Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 
Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 
The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”
“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 
Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”
Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”
“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 
“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.
“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 
A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  
Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 
He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.
“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 
“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 
A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 
“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 
“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 
“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 
“Hi,” Y/N blushed.
“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 
“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 
“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”
“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 
“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 
Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 
“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”
“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.
“So you came?” He teased. 
“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 
“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 
“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.
“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 
"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.
Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 
Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 
“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.
He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 
Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 
She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 
“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.
“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 
“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”
“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.
“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 
“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”
Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”
“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.
Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”
“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.
“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.
Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 
Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 
The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 
Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.
"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 
As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.
"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.
"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.
"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 
"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.
"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.
"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.
"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.
"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.
"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.
"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.
"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.
Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.
“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 
As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 
A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 
"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.
Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.
"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."
Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.
"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.
"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.
Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 
Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.
Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 
“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 
“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 
“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 
Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.
Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 
In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 
They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 
“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.
“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 
“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 
“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 
Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 
“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 
Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 
Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”
They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 
“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.
Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 
Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 
She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.
Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.
A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.
I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33
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nemesis-writer · 7 months ago
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[Unwanted Ransom (Chapter 1)]
What was I made for?
TW: Mentions of Death, PTSD, ED, SH, Neglect
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🎵Thumbs- Sabrina Carpenter🎵 🎵What was I made for?- Billie Ellish🎵
On my first day of staying here, I was excited to see if I had brothers.
Dick the oldest, supposed to be there for me, and pose as a role model right? WRONG, he instead leaves me on read when I text him. The fucker has enough guts to ignore me, and when he notices me, it's when I either get in trouble at school, or when his teamates talk to me. He had time to look after Bludhaven.
Tim, one of the family's detectives, doesn't find me interesting, and thinks of himself too big to talk to a lowlife like me. AND WE LIVE IN THE SAME FUCKING HOUSE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. With him, I have little to no memories. All he does is twiddle his thumbs, pretending I wasn't there.
Cass, Steph, Barb. I never really cared bout' them, all they do is talk shit about others, and play daddy's little girl. I was never daddy's little girl and I never complained. Not much to really talk about with them, I even learned ASL just for some light communication.
Jason, alright, I'mma be honest here. He was the closest thing I had to a brother, but he only came to the house at night for some food and rest. The best memory with him, was him taking me to school on the first day, I joined grade 5 class because I have an IQ of 190. Everything was great until he died, a part of me died with him.
Damian, the "golden apple" of this whole shit hole. This bitch thinks that he can do anything, because he is the bastard of Bruce Wayne, and Talia Al Ghul. He gets to train with Dick, while I watch them train to become a "hero". He bullied me even when I was a year older than him. Ughh, what a bitch. He was the reason I got the name Jinx, I was the bad luck of the family
Bruce, the man had the guts to adopt me and change my true name to a wayne. I was named Xerxes because it meant warrior, my dad never thought I was one. I'm not even allowed to call him dad.
Alfred, oh sweet innocent Alfred. I considered him as my father when my mother's "sperm donor", couldn't be there for me. He was there to teach me how to bake and cook, the best part was that he never admonished me for my bad behavior at school.
For 4 years I had lived with them, every night I had prayed for a miracle to happen. At night the same dream, every morning, the same nightmare. After the first 5 months of my stay, I started to avoid eating, because of depression.
And before I go to bed I looked for any blade I could, and locked myself in my bedrooom. I cut myself below the wrist, while keeping a first aid nearby. I never felt any pain from the wounds, but I felt the scar in my heart.
It's ironic how a whore with nothing, could love a child more, than a family that has everything. I always laughed at the idea, I never allowed myself to cry or show weakness. Bruce never knew how to deal with emotions anyway, so why cry?
I never cried, when Damian slashed my arm with a knife. Not when Barbara told me to go to hell, not when Tim destroyed the birthday present I made for him. And especially when Bruce called me a mistake. I only cried when Jason was murdered by the Joker.
I always thought crying was useless, so I worked hard. I got straight A's, I made friends, I enlisted for multiple sports when I turned 10. I even took up art just for the sake of fitting in.
But I will always be the Wayne pushed from the spotlight. Not even then, could I cry.
I just went to my dilapidated bedroom, God, it was ornamented with all of my awards and certificates. I started to pack my stuff, I even took the photo of me and my mother. There wasn't much to pack, all I got were hand me downs, and the dregs of my "beloved siblings."
At night, it was the perfect time to escape, with the villains on the loose, they had to take night shifts. So I slowly climbed out of my window and placed the note I had prepared for Alfred. And I prepared to go to the abyss that awaits me...
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A/N Hiii... I got this idea from reading @acid-ixx, and @luludeluluramblings... I'm making a seperate part for the note Jennifer gave Alfred. HOPE U LUV THIS <333
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readychilledwine · 11 months ago
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Trials and Tribulations
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Rhysand Week Day 1 - Adolescence
Summary - Rhysand was always a cocky teen, until it came to you at least
Warnings - Childhood crushes, first dates, flirting, Cassian and Azriel being wingmen (no pun intended), mixed ending (some will like it, some won't), reader likes traditional female roles (it makes sense in the end)
A/n- Happy @officialrhysandweek! This is just a short cute fic with Rhys and a childhood crush. I like to imagine Rhys was always really smooth with everyone, but someone he felt genuine emotion for. I feel like that's a skill we are still watching him learn to cope with and tackle with Feyre.
✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️
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Arrogant is a strong word, but it fits how you felt about the male in front of you perfectly. Yes, he was beautiful. His hair dark as night, sharp jawline, eyes so deep and blue they almost appeared purple.
But that smirk. That smirk as he touched you, flirting with you so openly as other Illyrian males and females watched in stunned silence. It was enough to make you feel as though all attraction to him was melting away.
“Remove your hand from my hip or I will have my father remove it for you,” that smirk dropped at your words, his eyes growing wide with shock. Rhysand's hand slowly moved off of you, the strategy Cassian had told him to use not working in the slightest on you.
He glanced back to where his brothers were sitting and watching. Nonverbally begging for help. It wasn't that you didn't want him touching you. He knew that just based on your thoughts, but you were almost upset he had.
6 months. 6 months of you two admiring each other from afar, of shared sneaking glances, of occasional words and smiles shared, but you were rejecting him. Rejecting his advances.
“I- I apologize,” he took in a quick breath before trying Azriel's tactic, one that worked for the mysterious and handsome male without fail. “Do you want to go back to my place and talk?” He watched as your face fell, a glare appearing in those normally bright eyes. “I fucked this up, didn't I?” You only nodded and walked away from him, going back to your older brother and his friends.
Rhys returned to his brothers then, grabbing his drink before walking out of the community dininghall.
Cassian chased after him, Azriel not far behind as Cass yelled, “What the hell happened?!”
“Your ideas didn't work.” Rhys had never sounded so small, so insecure. Being a half illyrian came with challenges, but Rhysand had always been strong through them. He faced adversity with the confidence of a male who knew his worth, even if others felt that worth was lower than he did.
“So we make a new plan,” Azriel was stoic in his response. “I know she likes you. I overheard her telling her friends during chores.” The three of them began replotting the next day. For a week, they formed a new plan for Rhysand to charm you into a date, into a walk, anything.
You shook him to his core. Your smile, your playful eyes, your voice. You knocked him off his pedestal and he had no plans in allowing you to walk away without so much as a single date.
The following Saturday was warm, a full moon in the sky, bonfires all around. You were with your friends, all giggling and laughing while your brother stood guard. The two of them were holding eye contact, your brother almost silently begging Rhysand to try again. The two of them liked each other. Trained together frequently. Discussed you even more frequently.
Your family was more forward-thinking. They believed your worth was equal to your brother's, but oddly, you loved chores. You made the choice not to train. You loved keeping a clean home, baking, cooking. You loved your vegetable garden. Perhaps it was that choice that both drew Rhysand to you and made him struggle in dealing with his feelings for you. So many other Illyrian females were happy to crawl into his bed. To rebel for a few hours or all night. Yet you? You had a healthy home. A happy life. There was no need for you to rebel against a heavy-handed father or a cruel mother.
He had been attracted to you since his mother brought him here. A childhood crush he longed to turn to more. It wasn't until Azriel and Cassian came into the picture that he felt it was possible, though. The three of them were always pushing each other. They motivated each other to be there best, to be strong, to be good males. Rhys knew he could be that for you. He could be strong. He could be confident. He could be all you needed him to be if only he gave himself a chance.
He took his beer like a shot before walking over to you, praying to The Mother the second time would be the charm. “Can we talk,” he offered his hand, waiting for you to place your smaller one in it and smiled when you did.
“How was training this week?” You were hoping to help him relax. He loved when you asked about him, loved when you cared about his week.
“Good. Got to fight Cassian hand to hand.”
“Ah, so you lose again?”
He glared at you playfully, “Barely.”
“How quickly did he take you down?”
“I’ll have you know-”
“So quickly then,” you interrupted with a smirk.
“Smartass.”
“Sore loser,” You shrieked as he spun on you, throwing you over his shoulder. “Rhysand!” He could hear you say his name forever. Listen to your laugh on repeat. He tried to keep his confidence with him as Azriel and Cassian gave him thumbs up from the treeline.
They had figured out that it was Rhysand you liked. Rhysand. Not his looks. Not his money. Not his massive wings. Not even the fact that he was heir to the Night Court. It was him. You liked him. You liked how easy your conversations flowed, how kind he was, how easy it was to push his buttons. You liked the friendship you two shared, the moments of vulnerability and innocence.
Shamelessly, he carried you to a blanket and picnic basket he and his brothers had set up, setting you down with little grace. “I brought snacks."
You blinked at his simple statement, “You brought snacks?”
“For our date, yes,” he sat down without further words, opening the basket. “Are you going to sit or just stand there?” He would never admit how insecure he was feeling right now. That anxious bubbly feeling in his stomach threatening to ruin his plan of wooing and courting you.
It wasn't visible to anyone else, but you saw the change in his eyes as you studied him, the way his glance kept flickering to the trees. “You're kidding me,” your gaze followed his. “You brought Azriel and Cassian?”
His face fell and a blush began to spread, “No! I- no!” He stood again, blocking you from looking over into the trees by flaring out his wings. “Just us. You and me. Me and you.”
“And your friend Az?” Rhysand wanted to melt on the spot as you continued trying to look around with him with a bright smile. “You're normally so confident, Rhysand,” you suddenly stopped and just stared at him.
“You bring out my nerves,” he said calmly. “You're beautiful. You're smart. You're lovely. We're friends. You-”
A voice broke from the tree line, “Stop ranting!”
The two of you began to laugh as he sat back down and you followed him. You had never seen him like this before. A ball of nervous energy just looking for an outlet.
“Relax,” you whispered and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Tell me about what Azriel and Cassian are like.”
Rhysand seemed to find his confidence in that touch, that soft reassurance. The coil in his stomach released, his shoulders falling, “I'm the most handsome out of the three of us,” he said loudly, smiling as you nodded. “And the most delightful. Possibly the most cunning.”
“Definately the most humble,” you mumbled, earning a playful glare. As the date went on, he eased more. His rants about Cassian and Azriel caused loud yells to come from suddenly noisy trees at random times.
It became the first date of many in his late teens. A reference point he now used as he stared in the mirror getting ready to take Feyre out.
You had been his gold standard. A childhood crush turned teenage sweetheart, turned first heartbreak, turned sister. You, in all your tenderness, had helped shape him similar to how Cassian had, to how Azriel had. You were his only true romance before Feyre and one of his hardest lessons in his younger years.
He threw a pillow at you as he entered the living room, “Thanks for baby sitting Nyx tonight.”
You put a finger on your nose, a game all too familiar to you and him, and pointed to Azriel, “All him. But you are welcome.” You adjusted his tie for him. “Relax,” that word rang so many memories in his head. “She loves you."
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bluelocksource · 9 months ago
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Alexis Ness’ trivia (src: EGOIST BIBLE 2)
☆ Character's color: Magical Purple.
☆ Weapon : Illusion Cross.
☆ Birthday: 16th March.
☆ Current age: 18 (at the start of NEL).
☆ Zodiac: Pisces.
☆ Nickname: "The Magician"
☆ Birthplace: Hamburg, Germany.
☆ Family: Father. Mother. Older brother. Older Sister. Himself.
☆ Current height: 181 cm.
☆ Foot size: 28 cm.
☆ Dominant foot: Right.
☆ Blood type: AB.
☆ Visual acuity: 1.0
☆ Grip strength: 53 kg.
☆ Motto: "Magic resides in those who believe."
☆ Team: Bastard München.
☆ Starts playing football: At age 8. "First time I saw it in a stadium. I will never forget that football magic."
☆ Hobby: Discovering magic. "The world is filled with all kinds of magic!"
☆ Favorite food: Sachertorte. "The combo with whipped cream and coffee is the best!"
☆ Dislike/hated food: Herring pie. "My mom isn’t a great cook, and this one is especially terrible."
☆ What goes best with rice:  "Cheese curry, maybe. "
☆ Favorite animal: Flying squirrel. "It's cute and can fly—how fantastical!"
☆ Favorite season: Winter. "A clear winter sky makes feel like I could fly."
☆ Favorite movie: The Notebook.
☆ Favorite music: "The Rose" by Bette Midler.
☆ Favorite football player: Michael Kaiser.
☆ Favorite subject: Ethics & P.E.
☆ Weak subject: Maths & Physics.
☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: "Probably mushroom. They have cute shape!"
☆ Ideal type: "A strong person who can control their solitude."
☆ Fixation: Lonely expressions. "It makes me feel like I can understand their solitude."
☆ What would make him happy: "When others share in my excitement."
☆ What would make him upset: "The denial of magic I believed in." 
☆ What he thinks his strength is: Valuing the invisible (feelings, wishes, thoughts).
☆ What he thinks his weakness is: Stubbornness. "Not bending on what I believe in (though I don’t really think of it as a weakness)."
☆ What made him cry recently: “I can’t remember. I cry often. My tear ducts are very sensitive... Hehe ♪”
☆ Usual sleeping hour: 6.5 hours.
☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 10. "It seems they were delivered to my team! Thank you!"
☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: His arms.
☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "I’d probably consult with Kaiser. I might say something like “I don’t need this crap,” though!"
☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: "I didn’t have that kind of thing at home. So I prepared my own stockings. Not that he ever came."
☆ What was his last wish from Santa: "Anything was fine. Anything at all."
☆ How he spent his holiday:  "Training with Kaiser. Eating with Kaiser. Shopping with Kaiser. With Kaiser... etc."
☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "I hope for a miracle so that day won’t actually be the last."
☆ Favorite historical figure: Joan of Arc.
☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: "I wonder if I would still believe in magic."
☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "Kaiser. Wait, is a human not allowed? Then I don’t need anything."
☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The past. "I would hug my younger self, who believed in magic and cried alone, and tell them, “It’s okay to be just as you are.”"
note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!
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ihavethedreamiesx · 5 months ago
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Love Release | Felix [NSFW]
Felix Lee/Lee Yongbok - Stray Kids
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~4.9k
Pairing: Noble! Felix x Handmaiden! AFAB! Reader
Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Pet Names (My love/love), Grinding/Humping (I don't know the right term...), First Times (Both), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)
Summary: You had been training ever since you were a little girl to grow up and serve the crown prince and later the king. Because of that, you grew up with the prince as well. Though, the one that always had caught your eye, was the prince's best friend.
Author's Note: This one is very soft and fluffy compared to the other ones in this series. I got most of my "information"/inspiration from the drama The Red Sleeve with Lee Junho, so if it's not exactly right it's because I based this more off of a K-Drama than research.
At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use. Just an FYI, there are a lot more in this one than some of my others, so I would recommend looking over the list first, or this post.
-> Bang Chan's <-
-> Lee Know's <-
-> Changbin's <-
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!
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Your family isn’t poor by any means, but they aren’t nobility either. Your father and mother own a very successful tea shop frequented by the young adult children of the nobles and therefore afford your family a rather comfortable life. However, you know little of it. You are the youngest of five girls, and your eldest sister is an esteemed member of the royal court ladies. Your parents received payments from the palace in compensation for your sister going to serve there, the funds allowing them to open the shop that has made them so well off. Despite her entering to work as a seamstress, she rose in the ranks past her initial status due to an unofficial friendship with the princess.
One year, the year you turned five, the palace was struggling to find new girls to train for the royal court due to a sickness that had swept through Hanyang and the surrounding areas. The sickness was much harder for young girls to fight off than boys, and unfortunately many girls died. You were spared from the illness, though your sister but two years older than you sadly passed. Due to the struggling search, your sister returned home as a still training nain, serving under a sanggung that served the queen. Out of the three of us younger sisters, only you were of the proper age to be entered into the palace to train. So, you were quickly sent off to live in the palace, to train for years in order to serve the crown prince who was around the same age as you. Of course, your parents received more payment in return. This tended to be done since they would never receive a dowry for their daughters, palace maidens are forbidden to marry.
You and the girls in your friend group stood out from the rest, the red fabric at the ends of your sleeves clearly designating you all as future gungnyeo to the crown prince, and eventually the king. Before you were separated into your future departments however, all the girls were treated equal, whether they were there to be royal servants, embroiders or seamstresses, cleaners or cooks, healers or musicians. When you were assigned the department for the inner royal court, you became a trainee jimil nain and suddenly you were of a higher status. Still at a measly 10th grade ranking, you were higher than your friends who were assigned to begin their true duties in sewing and cleaning. You started off as an assistant to a sangjeong, a nasty woman who doled out punishments left and right and you tried your hardest to stay on her good side, only getting a few whacks on the hand. While you were eventually given more or less a promotion, it was a very boring job in a way because you had a very specific duty. As part of your job, you would more or less escort the girls who worked in the naesojubang, leading them and the food they prepared to the crown prince’s quarters. The scent of the much fancier and rich food often made your mouth water, but you could never partake. However, there was a saving grace…maybe two. The prince is gorgeous. Even as a young teenager, everyone could see how handsome he would grow to be. Though, you could only see him through sneaking glances, you dare not look at his face when anyone could see. You aren’t supposed to. The one you could however look at was the second saving grace. Prince Chan had a just as attractive best friend, a younger boy by the name of Yongbok. Yongbok was the son of one of the ministers and was essentially assigned to be one of Chan’s friends as a little boy, but their friendship stuck through. He you could look at, and look you did. There was constant talks and arguments over whether Prince Chan or Lord Yongbok was more attractive. The girls who spoke and admired the beauty and sweetness of Lord Yongbok counted you amongst them. Many girls though preferred the casual strength and confident demeanor of the prince, and this led to many a debate over meals and duties. Nearly every day when you brought the girls to serve Prince Chan his midday meal, you would cast glances at Yongbok who sat to the left of the prince. You would sit by the door, waiting for the prince and his friend to finish eating so you could have the girls come and get rid of the dishes and you would escort them out before they went on their own way. That was…about all you ever did for the better part of two years.
When you were given more duties, you were assigned to be a messenger. Your previous station was one of the least physically strenuous jobs, and then you were given one of the most. The first month or so of your duties, your legs constantly burned, and your feet hurt. Not only did you have to scurry about the palace, from the prince’s quarters, to the throne hall, and then back, and then to the queen’s quarters and then back, it was exhausting. Every time you left the crown prince’s palace with a message from said prince, you hated having to go all the way to his grandmother’s quarts with a small message. It was easiest if you had to go deliver a message to the throne hall since it was the closest. You dreaded however having to go to his mother’s, the hall that housed his parents is not only beautiful, but extremely revered. You feared even bumping into something and knocking it over. Plus, his mother was…intimidating. Somehow even more so than the king. While she wasn’t mean or cruel, she seemed very tense. There was however a nasty woman who despised the queen. That particular concubine and the queen would glare at each other near constantly, and if for some reason they were even in the same room, you worried entering lest you be struck by the lightning between their gazes. Sometimes though, you were grateful for your job, because there were times you had to deliver messages from Prince Chan to his best friend. Lord Yongbok often lingered around the palace when the prince was studying since, even though he was also educated well, he didn’t need it to the same level. You even would sometimes pray for the prince to wish to summon his friend, because then you could directly interact with the nobleman. Every week he grew more gorgeous, and his suddenly deep voice drew many of Prince Chan’s admirers over into his camp.
One time, Yongbok was meandering through the palace grounds, standing on a bridge, looking down into the water at the brightly colored fish swimming below. It was almost like the scene that would be copied down to parchment as a work of art. His gorgeous features combined with the serene scene was worthy of that of royalty despite his lower status. You clutched the letter to you so tight, seeing him bringing you such joy that you worried the paper within the fabric envelope would crinkle. No matter, it wasn’t important, just details for a future excursion the prince had planned.
“Lord Yongbok…” You bow at the waist when you finally gain the nerve to approach. You stand back up straight, breath nearly stolen by his warm smile.
“Ah, Miss (Y/N). What has our lord prince sent this time, hm~?” His voice nearly rumbles through you like thunder, and you have to fight back a shiver. You bow and hand him the envelope with both hands and he takes it from you, opening the blue fabric to read over the parchment. He hums and folds the paper up and stows it inside his blue danryeong. While he looked good in everything, you found the uniform outfit many of his status wore to ill-suit him, and much preferred his casual clothing he more often wore.
“Tell me, when is your next day off?”
“In a fortnight, milord.”
“Hm… I assume you plan to see your family?”
“No, actually. I do not have a plan for that day, my family plans to be on holiday in Ming.”
“I see… Would you be opposed if I accompanied you out?”
You feel your face heat to a bright red, heart racing out of control. You look at him with wide eyes, stammering to answer, still trying to process that he asked you such a thing.
“Y-you would…want to?”
“I would~” He smiles, making your heart race even more-so.
“T-then, yes, I would like that~”
~θωθ~
Your day off came, and you were trembling with nervous excitement as you dressed in your only non-uniform hanbok. Standing at the gate leading out of the palace grounds, you clutch your pass that allows you to leave. You wonder if after your final ceremony if you’d ever get to leave, so you wanted to take the chance to get out as much as possible while still in training.
“Miss (Y/N).” You hear a very distinct voice call your name and you perk up, not able to fight back a smile when you see Yongbok just on the other side of the open gate. You step up to the guards standing on each side and he looks over your engraved pass to make sure it’s legit and then he hands it back and lets you out. You tuck it away in an interior pocket of your jeogori, for if you lost it, you would not be able to get back in.
“Do have something planned, milord?” You ask, not able to look directly at him. He’s too close and too beautiful.
“Yes, there’s somewhere I want to take you, if you’re willing.” He smiles, so purely, and your heart melts further. It’s refreshing to see him in normal clothing rather than his danryeong, his gat suits him much more than his samo, the dark brown beads of the strap for the hat make his eyes pop.
“O-Of course, milord.”
“We’re not in the palace anymore, (Y/N), just call me Yongbok~”
“A-are you sure?”
“Of course~” He huffs a small laugh then starts to walk toward the direction opposite the market and you jog to catch up to him. You had figured you two would walk the market and look at the goods and trinkets sold there, but he wasn’t going that way. He leads you to the edge of the walled district and you halt at the gate before you can follow him out.
“Is something wrong?”
“Is it alright…for me to leave the seong-jung?”
“Why wouldn’t it be. You have a pass to leave the palace grounds, that’s all you need.”
“A-alright.”
You only ever go to the seongjeosimni to see your family, and you typically are escorted straight there, but now, you actually have the chance to be…free. Free to do whatever you wish and wherever you go. You hold your breath as you step over the threshold, almost like you were going through a portal to another realm. Of course, there is no change to how you feel, but it feels different somehow. You continue to walk with him, staying a step behind as is proper. Soon, you arrive at the bank of the stream, no one else around but you two, and you gain the courage to stand right next to him. You both overlook the water in silence for a short time, just admiring the scenery.
“How did you come to be a trainee of the gungnyeo?” He asks suddenly and his soft but deep voice startles you out of your thoughts.
“Well, my sister is a jimil nain and she recommended me when there was the low rate of girls coming in from the sweeping illness ten years ago.”
“I see…”
“Why did you wish to know?”
“Is your father of the jungin then?”
“Yes…” Why was he asking?
“I wondered if you were not…”
“You wondered if I was sold to the palace?”
“Yes.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Good.”
“May I ask why you wish to know?”
“I was curious of your family, that’s all.” He left it at that. When you looked back out to the water, you felt your face heat, wondering why he wished to know. After that, he brought you to a quaint little tea shop and you listened as he told you various tales of his shenanigans with the crown prince when they were younger. As the sun started to set, he escorted you back to the gates of the palace grounds and you show the guard your pass before heading in. You hesitate in the threshold of the gate and look back at Yongbok. He smiles warmly and you decide that it’s one of the best days of your so far mundane life.
~υ3υ~
When you turned 18, talks of that year’s coming of age ceremony were once again milling about. That year though, you actually cared to be interested, since you would be participating. But times were not so great, the King was in poor health, and many worried his days were numbered. If that was the case, the 21-year-old crown prince would become king and therefore the gungnyeo under him would also become of a higher status. In the year prior you had become one of the palace ladies who helped prepare and manage the prince’s duties or roles in many formal events. As a handmaiden to the prince, you were granted many opportunities to be close to Lord Yongbok, but you unfortunately were never in a position where you could interact with him at said events. Being more busy yourself, he was often embroiled in his studies and was taking all manner of exams, trying to establish his place among the nobility. You overhead Prince Chan and him half-heartedly joking of them being old and grey, with Yongbok serving as the right or left state minister. That would take a long time of service for Yongbok to reach the status to be worthy of that position.
When the fateful day came that the king passed, you were suddenly thrust into a whirlwind of events you had to prepare for and work during. Not only were there the funerary and memorial services for the king, there was also the coronation events for the now King as well as his wedding to the now Queen. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to be the crown princess as the two were only engaged to marry when the previous king died. Chan was given a new name when he was coronated, but he still preferred to be called by his birthname by Lord Yongbok when it was just them. With the ascension of Chan to the highest station of Joseon, you expected to be officially graduated as a jimil nain. But that didn’t come. When the trainee nain were informed of their new positions, you were curiously left out. It was jarring for not just you, but your friends as well. You thought you had done a very good job up until then, your higher duties of greater import than the others your age due to your excelling performance. Rumors began swirling of what it could mean, and many assumed that you had become more intimate with the now King in a personal manner. While it wasn’t horribly common, it wasn’t unheard of for a king to choose a court maiden to be favored, and to even take her as a concubine. But you knew that wasn’t the case. The more believable rumor was…that you would be released. You didn’t even think that possible unless a grave crime was committed, or if a girl fell ill…
~
You were pondering this one afternoon, sitting near a pond inside the palace grounds, tossing random stones into the water. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, feeling upset and angry. Was there some reason that the now King did not wish you to be in his service anymore? You thought he had a rather favorable opinion of you…
“You seem distraught.” A deep voice startles you out of your thoughts and you look up in surprise to see Lord Yongbok. It had been a great while since you two had a moment of even partial privacy, let alone just the two of you.
“I apologize…” You stand to bow, and he waves you off to calm down.
“There’s no one around, don’t worry about it… What’s bothering you?”
“I don’t wish to trouble you-“
“Trouble me, please.” He smiles softly and you blush, but hum in thought.
“I am the only one among the other girls of my department to not be informed of her new station…”
“Really?”
“Yes… Despite my service under the crown prince, it seems I will not continue into the service of the King…” you look up at him, wanting to ask a question, but are unsure if it was proper.
“You wish to ask me if I know why?” You smile bashfully, nodding in answer.
“Have you ever known a gungnyeo that ended up released of her service?”
Your heart fell at his question. Was it true? Was a rumor about you that not even you knew the truth of really…true? He could see your face fall and he tries to smile, reassuringly, taking a step closer.
“Please don’t worry. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Do you know why…am I truly being released?”
“You are. And…I do know why. I hope…you will not be upset with me.”
“With you? Why would I be?”
“It seems your release is because of me.” He hums, looking over the water and your eyes flit all over his face, trying to read it.
“Have I…upset you in some way?”
“Oh, no, not…” He sighs, “I wished this to be good news for you…”
“What? What’s happening?”
“I made a request of the King…Something I have never done in all our years of friendship. And he granted me this request.”
Your heart begins to race as he smiles warmly at you, a small blush dusting his cheeks as well.
“You…?”
“I requested that you be released… Because if you weren’t, I would not be able to court you to be my wife.”
“Y-your…wife?”
“Yes.”
“I-I…I thought if a gungnyeo was released…she still could not marry?”
“That’s just for droughts, and other calamities. This is an extremely special circumstance. One that might not be possible if you officially graduate to a true nain. As a trainee however, the rules are more lenient.”
“You did something so…so bold for…me?” You feel tears pricking your eyes, both truly honored and beyond ecstatic. Despite the lessening opportunities you had to be around Lord Yongbok, you had fallen for him. And it seemed, he you.
“I already met with your father, actually.”
“You…did?”
“Yes. Paid the dowry and everything…” He holds his hand out to you, and you shakily place your hand in his, a tear escaping your eye.
“I assumed you’d say yes…”
“Of course I’d say yes~”
~(◕‿◕✿)~
The next month is an absolute whirlwind for you, each upcoming moment causing more nervous excitement than the last. After Chan is crowned King, and the rest of the girls that were training have gone through their coming-of-age ceremonies, you’re formally released from service. Right after, you’re moved into a new house on the estate grounds of Yongbok’s family, staying there for a few days alone until the wedding. What makes you the most nervous of all is waiting in the middle of your new bedchamber in nothing but your white marital sokchima, pacing. Yongbok is getting cleaned up after you had and you can’t stand or sit still, face a seemingly permanent red. You startle when the door opens and your heart stops, then races into a tizzy when you see him. His hair’s down, even going a bit past his shoulders, long and so purely black it’s like flowing ink.
“O-Oh…” You sigh in amazement; you’ve married a heavenly being, you’re sure. He smiles and your floored even further, how is he so perfect?
“My wife~” He comes to you, cupping your jaw in both his hands, thumbs gently rubbing over your cheeks. Your own hands go to his wrists, holding his hands to your face, your eyes skating all over his beautiful features.
“Y-Yes?” He chuckles and you blush further, swallowing hard.
“Tell me if I need to slow down…” He says as he leans in, lips hovering over yours. When you don’t say anything, just gape at him, he gently kisses you. You have kissed before, but only briefly, and he steals your breath as he deepens the kiss. His deep rumbling groan shudders through you like thunder and you can’t help but moan into the kiss, trying your best to kiss him back well. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you whimper again, tongue sliding against his. It was an odd sensation but by no means unwelcome, and he somehow even tastes good. Pulling back, a small strand of saliva connects your lips still and he hums with a soft smirk.
“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” He smiles as he asks.
“Probably not as long as me…” You admit, still holding his wrists to make sure his hands don’t leave your face. You whine softly in disappointment when he moves his hands, and he huffs a small laugh. You let go of his wrists and then you nearly squeak when he lifts you easily up into his arms, carrying you over to the raised yo bed. Gently, like you’re fragile, he lays you down and leans over you. His fingers fiddle with the tie of your sokchima, looking up at you in silent question. You nod, and he slowly pulls on the goreum to undo it. You sit up so he can help you get it fully off and you blush furiously as you lay back down under him, completely bare. You hear him swallow hard, a low hum coming from him and you boldly reach up for the tie of his marital jeogori. He helps you then get his garment off and your mouth literally waters when you see him. Your shy fingers gently reach to run over the defined ridges of his torso, and they quickly get brave. You sit up, in awe as you feel his bare skin, the muscles of his stomach twitching under your soft fingers. He huffs another laugh, letting you explore him for a few seconds. He watches you carefully for your reaction, your fingers creeping lower and lower till the reach the ties of his sokbaji. Your eyes widen a bit when you find he’s already getting hard and you immediately flush.
“Nervous?” Yongbok asks softly. You nod, not able to lie.
“It’s okay, my love.” He leans down and kisses your upper cheek, “just lay back and I’ll start.” You do so and you swallow hard, waiting to watch him take his pants off but he doesn’t. His hands meet your bare skin, and you can’t help but gasp a soft moan as his hands land on your waist, thumbs rubbing the soft skin of your stomach. As soon as your eyes meet, he’s leaning down to kiss you, rougher this time. His tongue sneaks into your mouth and you whine a bit as his hands sneak lower till they’re gripping your hips. Slowly, his hands go lower, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake till they end their journey at your thighs. Your fingers weave into his soft hair as he guides your legs up to wrap around his waist. You’re nervous at first to do anything more than loop them loosely around his middle, but when his hands sneak back up to palm your breasts, your legs tighten, hips twitching. He pulls back from the kiss with a low groan, grinding back against you, hardening fully.
“(Y/N)…careful, love.”
“Sorry…” You whisper, not very sorry actually. Even just the slight friction - even with the fabric of his pants between- of his cock against your cunt feels amazing.
“Sure you are~” He grins, nuzzling his nose against your ear, his voice lowering to a rough timbre, “You’re already so wet.” You blush at his words despite knowing how true they are.
“Why don’t we try something?”
“What?” He answers your question by rolling his hips, his cock pressing into your folds. You gasp softly at this, and he lets your legs down and before you can protest, he undoes the tie of his sokbaji and gets them off, leaving him just as naked as you. You swallow hard, eyes focusing on his cock…
“W-won’t it hurt?”
“That’s why I’m going to get you ready okay?”
“Okay…”
“Just trust me, I won’t go in till you’re ready.”
“Okay…I trust you, Yongbok~” He kisses the tip of your nose making you giggle. He guides your legs back around him and you both moan softly when his dick slides through your slick folds, no longer impeded by the fabric of his bottoms.
“Oh, you’re so warm~” He huffs a small laugh, and you gasp again when he moves his hips, the length of his cock running through your cunt, slicking over your clit.
“Feel good, love~?
“Yes…” You whimper; a bit shocked at just how good it feels.
“Have you even ever touched yourself here?”
“N-no.” Your hips twitch up, goosebumps raising with each thrust of his hips. He moves faster, soft but low grunts leaving his pretty lips as he admires the sheen coating his cock from your wet folds. The more he moves, the better it feels, your little clit feeling like it’s on fire.
“Y-Yongbok, s-something-“
“Just let it happen, love.” He kisses your forehead as he keeps moving, able to feel your core clenching around nothing as he strokes his dick through your pussy. You gasp again, then lose your breath, back arching when he presses harder, moving faster. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, crashing over you again and again, the overwhelming pleasure making your head swim. When you come down, you look up at him. He’s biting his lip as he’s adjusting to press the head of his cock against your entrance. At the right spot, he reaches up and weaves his fingers through yours, holding your hands up by your head, his lips hovering over yours.
“Just grip my hands tight if it hurts, love.” His lips seal over yours as he starts to press in. The stretch burns, like nothing you’ve ever felt before, but it’s also different than pain. It somehow hurts and feels amazing at the same time, and you swear you can’t catch your breath fully the deeper he gets. You grips his hands tight, but not overly so, trying to focus on kissing him. Finally, after what seems like hours, he bottoms out, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Yongbok pulls back from the kiss, tongue swiping over his lip to break the trail of saliva connecting your mouths.
“Does it hurt?”
“S-some, but not…it’s not bad…” He looks down to where your bodies are connected, groaning out a rumble as he sees your slick folds stretching to accommodate his fat cock. You’re so much hotter, wetter, and tighter than his hand could ever be and he’s already struggling to stay calm.
“T-tell me when I can move, but I’m not sure how long I can wait…” He’s breathing a bit harder, eyes clenched shut, brow furrowed, trying to remain in control.
“S-start slow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please.” You nod and he pulls back maybe an inch before going slowly back in. The searing burn remains, but it hurts less. He feels your gummy walls clench him, pulsing around him to the beat of your heart.
“M-more.” You nod again and he pulls back further, but goes in just as slow. He keeps this up till he pulls nearly all the way out before slowly burying back into your core. You’re breathing harder as well, trying to figure out if you’re still hurting at all, but only feeling better than you ever have before.
“Y-Yongbok, more, please-“
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, please need more~” He hums, picking up speed and your back arches, head thrown back as he starts to batter the head of his cock against your back wall, your tummy feeling on fire. Your fingers tighten around his, but he can feel your cunt spasming around him, your face all the way down to your chest flushing. One of his hands leaves yours, and you take your free one to wrap around his neck, keeping him close. His free hand finds its way to your hip, and he lifts you up more, changing the angle of how he’s fucking into you. Your breath immediately leaves you and another orgasm slams into you as he gives short but deep thrusts, the head of his dick perfectly thudding into your weak spot. He grunts, gritting his teeth as your gummy walls tighten into a slick vice and he wants so bad to hold back, but he can’t. He groans out and you whimper as you feel rope after rope of his hot cum pumping into you. As you both catch your breaths, and you can feel his cock softening, you cup his jaw in your hands. His eyes meet yours and he gives you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.
“I love you so much~”
“I love you too~”
Hanyang - historical name for Seoul nain - assistant court ladies sanggung - manage the palace and the royal family gungyeo - "Lady Officer of the Court" they were royal hand maidens or court ladies jimil nain - waited on the King and/or Queen and their family sangjeong - they managed and oversaw conduct, work and punishment of the Gungnyeo naesojubang - Gungnyeo department for preparing meals danryeong - "round-collar robe", often worn by noblemen and members of the council, ministries, or other officials. Ming - during the time of the Ming dynasty of China, they referred to the country as Ming hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. samo - hats worn by government officials seong-jung - area inside the fortress walls of Hanyang seongjeosimni - area outside the fortress walls of Hanyang jungin - Upper Middle Class citizens sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like undergarment yo - Korean floor mattress goreum - the ties that fastened a top of a hanbok sokbaji - pants-like undergarment, mostly worn by women under their chima
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Master-List
Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @minghaosimp, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23, @rhonnie23, @stresskidz
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flowercrownsandherondales · 3 months ago
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Against the Odds Pt. 15
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This is long! (or at least long for me.) I couldn’t stop once I started. MDNI. Let me know what you think! 
Previous
XV: Because You’re Mine, I Walk The Line. 
It took Haymitch three days to go back to a semi-normal state. 
At least one where he wasn’t staring at the wall, drinking over his weight in liquor, or trying to keep his eyes from rimming red. 
I held his hand through it all, making sure meals were cooked for the two of us, the housework was kept up with, and he showered and changed clothes at least once a day. He barely spoke, entering a halfway point between me and all of his friends and family on the other side. I felt like I was clawing at him, grabbing his arms with all my might and pulling him away from his beloved, from his mother and brother, from his friends. 
I felt like the most selfish woman who ever lived. 
I spent any spare hours while Haymitch was sleeping helping Burdock plan a memorial for Blair and the other miners. He’d never gotten married, never had children, and his mother and father had died a few years ago. We made it small, a simple gathering with few words exchanged. Burdock sang a soft tune full of grief and hope for something after. I gently mentioned it to Haymitch, who had just shook his head and tipped back another bottle.
Three weeks after the funeral we received another formal invitation. 
Cesar Flickerman was requesting us as guests on his nightly broadcast. Held in the Capitol, a place I’d never been. 
I hadn’t mentioned what Haymitch may or may not have done when trying to win Wiley sponsors. However, it was going to need to be aired out before I stepped in front of a camera crew and a crowd of hundreds holding onto their seats 
He must have known I was going to ask, not letting me get the question out as we sat for dinner. 
“I told the sponsors about you.” My fork was lifted to my mouth, dropping at the tone of his voice. Serious, tired, guilty. I decided to just let him speak, giving him a small nod to continue. 
“I knew he wouldn’t get any gifts otherwise. For one, I never put effort into speaking with any of them, and two, he was young and from the worst district in Panem. So I spun some kind of story. I told them we were childhood friends, said I’d been in love with you and I helped care for Wiley. Gave them a tragic love story, somethin’ to pull at their heartstrings and purses.” 
I sucked in a breath at the confession. 
“It worked. I’m grateful you did it.” Was all I could manage to say. His eyes dropped to the plate, pushing around his plate of chicken and dumplings lazily. 
“Do they think I’m in love with you?” I carefully asked. He looked up at me, sighing. 
“They think you allowed me to be a father to Wiley, in a way. They don’t know what you feel, but they’re interested in hearing from you.” 
I took a bite, letting the salty dough and gravy settle on my tongue for a moment, swallowing it all down. 
“Then I’ll give ‘em a love story for the ages.” I gave him a cheeky grin, winking at him as we settled back into a quiet dinner. 
A few days passed in anticipation. I’d been pestering Haymitch about the Capitol, attempting to pack, failing to find anything worth packing. 
“They’ll just throw whatever you bring away. No doubt you’ll be styled up the whole trip there.” He tried to soothe me, running his hands up and down my arms. I leaned back into him, releasing a deep breath. My anxiety was through the roof. Eyes would be all over me for the second time in my life. Only this time they would be right in front rather than through a camera lens. 
Effie Trinket came bustling through the door hours later. She was dolled up in pink, “For love!” She’d exclaimed, giving Haymitch and I a wide smile before ushering us towards the train. 
Haymitch led us towards the back, snagging a bottle of liquor off the barcart on his way to our rooms. Well, room. I wasn’t sure why I’d expected us to be separated. 
The bed looked like love itself had vomited all over it. 
Rose petals coated the duvet so heavy you could barely see the bed. A silly little swan was made out of towels. The lights were dimmed, giving the place an aura of romance. A bottle of champagne sat on ice in the corner, a note set in front. 
Remember why you’re here 
I rolled my eyes, tossing the note in the bin and pouring a glass of champagne, downing it in one drink and pouring another. It was expensive, tasting slightly of strawberries and sugar. 
Haymitch pushed the petals off the bed, letting them scatter on the floor in clumps. He crashed onto the mattress, patting the area beside him for me to lie down. 
I curled into his side like a cat, snuggling into his neck and inhaling the heavy scent of sandalwood and musk that was uniquely his. 
Haymitch held me close to his body, taking deep breaths and running his fingers along my forearms. His heartbeat was steady under my ear, the room warmer than his house and mine combined. Sleep pulled me in, but his gruff voice pulled me back out. 
“Effie and her prep team are going to bust in here any minute now.” he warned, soft and low.
“Do you think they’ve already rifled through my bag?” I chuckled sleepily. He let out his own gentle laugh. 
“Probably. Whatever you packed is definitely in the incinerator by now.” 
I craned my neck to peer up at him, a sweet smile on my lips. His facial hair was starting to come in, scruffy blonde settling on his jaw. I ran a hand across it, letting it tickle my palm. 
“They’re gonna shave it. Figured it’d be better if they do it rather than me.” His eyes followed my hand, leaning down and kissing it as it passed through. 
“What should I expect?” I asked tentatively. He let out a louder laugh at that, the corner of his eyes crinkling. 
“Plucking, poking, lots of hands where you don’t want ‘em.  They got rid of hosing us down with pesticide a few years ago. Decided we deserved an inkling of humanity.” 
My jaw dropped. Pesticides? 
He shook his head, shaking the memory of his first trip to the Capitol loose from his brain. 
“For everything Effie is, she’ll treat you with kindness. You’ll feel like a plucked chicken when you’re done, but she’ll try to be gentle about it.” 
I nodded against his chest. 
“At least I’ll be a pretty plucked chicken.” I joked, leaving a kiss on his chest. His hand stilled for a minute. 
“You’re always pretty, Y/N.” It was said under his breath, as if he didn’t want me to hear it. 
I felt my face heat up at the compliment. Pretty. He thinks I’m pretty. 
As if he could physically feel the wheels turning in my head, he peered down at me, hand picking up running down my arm. 
“You know that, don’t you?” His voice was so soft, so sweet I felt my face turn into fire. 
He sighed deep, moving his hand to brush through my hair. 
“Sweetpea, I don’t have a lot of experience in this department. I’m a mess half the time, and an asshole the other. Hell, I don’t know why you put up with me. But I wanna tell you, before we have to get in front of Panem and shove it down their throats, that you’re it for me. I tried it all once, and I didn’t think I’d do it again. Anything I have left, all the broken pieces you can try to put together, they all belong to you.” 
A tear fell from the corner of my eye, which he quickly wiped away. It wasn’t an I love you. It wasn’t his all-fire love he’d said to Lenore Dove. But it was something. It was an open door, drawing the blinds back open on his heart. It was the gentle way he spoke to me, the sweet way he held me, the cigarette pack he never failed to leave on the table. 
I’d take it over anything anyone else could offer me. No hesitation. 
Before I could voice anything back, the door cracked open and Effie Trinket and her prep team rushed in like they were on a suicide mission. 
Haymitch just sighed, leaning down and leaving a kiss on my head before hauling us up. The prep team cooed at his action, shooing him to leave as they brought in bags and a cart of goo’s and creams. He took his bottle of liquor off the bar cart, sending me a wink before disappearing down the train car. 
Effie clapped her hands. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” I groaned in response, standing and letting them circle me like techno colored vultures. 
Haymitch wasn’t kidding about being plucked. 
District 12 girls rarely shaved. It was hard enough to get food, body razors were the last thing on our list. The prep team took this as a personal affront, not hesitating to voice their disgust as they laid me down and waxed, pulled, and slathered different creams all over my body. Effie gave them a look for each comment made, sharp and twisting until they cowered like children. 
“Do you like blue?” She asked, fiddling with my makeup. The brushes tickled my skin and I tried not to scrunch my face, something she’d repeatedly scolded me for. I nodded, not particularly caring for any color. 
She grinned at my half assed answer, flicking her wrist to one of her assistants. The girl with neon green hair came hustling over, a garment bag draped over her arms. Effie unzipped it, humming in satisfaction before pulling it out. 
The dress was easily the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. 
The fabric looked as if it was made of water, rippling glossimer that layered around my hips before draping down my legs and just lightly floating on the floor. The bodice dipped low, squaring around my bust and making everything look fuller, dipping around my waist and pinching tight around my ribcage. It was strapless, the two ends cutting into triangles around my armpits. 
“This dress is very special. Tigris made it for you, on the President’s order. She rarely does any designing anymore, but she saw a photo of you and was inspired.” Effie whispered, zipping up the back with a feather-like touch. The girl in green pushed my hair to fall over the side of my shoulder, giving the illusion of a waterfall of curls. Pins were shoved into the other side, dazzling stones of sapphire and aquamarine. 
Heels were pushed onto my feet, making me wobble for a moment to regain my balance. Another girl spritzed me with perfume, jasmine and ylang ylang filling the room. 
I was escorted out of the room to see Haymitch, who stood in the foyer with a drink in his hand, freshly shaved and pulled into a dark navy suit, a napkin tucked in the pocket, encrusted with a constellation of the same stones in my hair. His hair was slicked back, coming just below his ear. I’d never seen him so primed, and it did something to me I was slightly ashamed of. 
His jaw dropped for a second, eyes wide as he drank me in. It reminded me of the autumn festival, I shyly looked down before doing a little spin. I could only hope tonight ended in the same way. 
Haymitch set down his drink with a clatter, pulling me to him. 
“You’re the gem of District 12.” His voice was husky in my ear, a kiss placed right behind it. My body shuddered, hands running down the soft fabric of his suit. 
I breathed him in, enjoying the moment for just a minute longer than I should have. I was well aware of the audience behind us, the prep team aweing and ooing at the display of affection. Effie cleared her throat, clapping her hands to break us apart. 
“There will be enough time for that later. We have a show to get to.” Haymitch rolled his eyes, picking up his drink and taking another sip. I felt the nerves start up again, which he caught before they could spiral. 
He had a swig left. His rough hands sweetly took a hold of my jaw, tilting my head up and pressing the glass to my lips, letting the rest of the liquid flow down my throat. I immediately felt lightheaded, either from the alcohol or the way his eyes darkened. My thighs tightened to stop the ache that erupted between them. 
“There we go sweet girl. Let that wash away the nerves.” He muttered, taking the glass away and setting it back down, wrapping his arm around my waist as he led us off the train and into the car that would take us to Cesar Flickerman. 
The host in question was every bit as eccentric as I had seen on TV. 
He was wrapped in red, his hair sparkling with little diamonds encrusted in the blood red locks. His suit was gleaming, silk reflecting every light in the studio. An audience of citizens sat eager, clutching the edges of their seats as his laugh bounced off the walls. 
Ladies and Gentleman, I’d love to officially present, all the way from District 12, Haymitch Abernathy!
The crowd went wild, a few studio hands ushering him out, leaving me standing in the wings. He’d explained it to me as we waited. He’d be marched out first, asked a million questions about the games and the rumors surrounding a mystery woman from home, and then I would be pushed out to be awed at. 
He sauntered out with something I hadn’t seen since we were kids. This wasn’t Haymitch Abernathy the drunk. This was Haymitch Abernathy the rascal. Someone the Capitol hadn’t seen for years. 
They went absolutely apeshit. 
“How wonderful for you to join us!” Cesar exclaimed, aweing over his suit, how well he was presented. Haymitch held a smirk on his face the entire time, cocky, egotistical, confident. 
He answered all the questions with a suave grace, warming up the audience and making them scream his name. 
Then it was my turn. 
“I have someone very special to me that I’d like to introduce. She’s come a long way, and she’s quite nervous to meet you all.” He said, sitting back in his seat. 
“Could this be your lovely girl from home? I don’t think we’ve ever had both the mother of a tribute and the lover of a victor with us. ” Cesar asked, the crowd a mixture of excitement and somber. They all knew about my son.
Haymitch stood, putting out his hand as my cue to get on the stage. I took a deep breath, rubbing my palms on my dress for just a second before I stepped out. 
The lights were bright. And hot. I could barely see Haymitch’s hand reaching for me. I stumbled for a second before being swept in a pair of sandalwood scented arms. He’d come to get me. 
The audience gasped, silence settling for just a brief moment before they erupted again. 
Haymitch dipped me low, his arms tight around me as he leaned in for a kiss, his lips moving against mine with force that took my breath away. 
I could faintly hear Cesar in the back, saying something about keeping things PG. Haymitch paid him no mind, lips traveling to my neck to suck kisses into it. My chest heaved from excitement, mouth forming into a breathless laugh as he finally let go. 
“My! What a passionate introduction!” Cesar exclaimed, making me blush as Haymitch slung an arm around my shoulders and led me to the chairs. Instead of guiding me into my own, he simply plopped down and pulled me into his lap. 
“Apologies Cesar. I couldn’t resist, especially when she’s all dolled up for you.” He winked into the audience, which left them swooning. 
I put on my game face in a quick second, recovering from his steamy kisses. My hand went to his chest, swatting him lightly like I did at home. 
“Forgive him, his home training has gotten a little rusty.” I confidently said, smiling into the lights. Cesar laughed at that one. 
“Cheeky! I love her already!” He exclaimed. 
Haymitch’s arms tightened around my middle, you’re doing fucking fantastic. 
Once the laughter died down Cesar sat, leaning towards us, mic outstretched. 
“On a more somber note, we all were absolutely gutted to see your son. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we are overjoyed to see this budding relationship before our eyes.” I nodded, voice caught in my throat. Wiley had sat in this very seat, dressed in an oversized suit, hands shaking as he spoke about his father. 
Please don’t bring up Wyatt. Please don’t bring up Wyatt. 
“It seems you have a way of wrapping our tributes right around your finger. And who could blame them, am I right!” Cesar yelled to the audience, causing them to erupt again. 
Haymitch could feel my body tighten like a coil. 
“She’s certainly a diamond. Any man would be a fool not to want a minute to bask in her sparkle.” He said nonchalantly, rubbing my arms as he did on the train. 
Cesar nodded, still grinning. 
“The kind of diamond mined for a victor, that’s for sure! How lovely it is, to see our favorite boy from District 12 so in love! We’ll need updates you two! You’ll have to promise us!” I nodded shyly, a sly grin taking over my painted lips. 
“Oh Cesar, how could we not! You’ve all been so kind to my love over the years. You’re all a part of our love story now!” I yelled out, making the man in red go wild. 
“Haymitch, I would put a diamond on this diamond as quickly as possible!” Cesar roared, causing him to squirm under me for just a second. I put my hand on his knee, trying to quell his anxiety at the thought of marriage. 
“Alas, we must bid our two lovebirds adieu for now! Everyone stay tuned, we have another very special guest joining us once again, Carp Delmar!” My blood froze at his name, immediately looking towards backstage. Haymitch released a heavy exhale in my ear, also caught off guard by the interview setlist. 
The cameras cut, studio hands pushing us off the stage as quickly as possible. Haymitch hauled me up, holding me tightly to his side as we bolted backstage. 
My eyes wildly searched for the boy from 4 as Haymitch practically carried me out of the studio. My feet were tripping in the heels, getting caught on the elaborate dress for our ten minutes onscreen. I saw a flash of familiar hair, but by the time I could get a good look at him he was gone, pushed onstage. 
I was shoved in an elevator faster than I could blink, standing still as stone while Haymitch slammed the button back to where we would be staying tonight. We didn’t speak the ride up, and I could tell from his stance that the interview had wound him up. 
I wobbled out of the elevator, still tripping over my outfit. Instead of holding me up for support, Haymitch just frowned and tucked one hand behind my back and the other under my knees, lifting me off the ground and carrying me like a bride to our suite. 
I yelped from surprise, which made him stop for a second. 
“Is it your back? Shit- I didn’t even think about it. Just can’t watch you keep trippin’ up.” His eyes melted, trying to adjust his grip to make me more comfortable. 
I shook my head, which didn’t seem to soothe his worry. Instead of saying anything I crashed my lips to his, mouths intertwining in a dance that had become as familiar as coming home. He hummed into me, breaking away to practically sprint to our room. 
Haymitch looked into the pad beside it, unlocking it with his face and kicking it open with his polished shoe. I could barely contain a giggle, determination written on his face as he went straight to the bed, which was once again coated in rose petals. 
He threw me down, my body bouncing on the too soft mattress, while he stayed hovered near me. 
“That fuckin’ interview. Fuckin’ Capitol people and their goddamn bullshit. And then you.” he groaned at the end, running a hand through his hair and undoing all of Effie’s hard work. I looked up at him with half lidded eyes, the need from earlier coming straight back at his slurred curses. 
“And me? I thought you said I looked pretty.” I teased, stretching my body to show off the curves the dress accentuated. His eyes raked up my body, drinking me in like a tall glass of water on the hottest day of the year. 
“Christ sweetpea. Prettiest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. All wrapped up for me like a present.” He was straining, my eyes doing a quick glance to his pants to see he was just as needy as I was. 
“Wanna come and open it?” I tried my best to give him a sultry glance, biting my lip in slight embarrassment. He took a deep breath, huffing it back out before he pounced, lowering his body over mine, arms coming up by my head to support his weight. I heaved in sharp breaths below him, watching as his eyes trailed my chest, my breasts straining against the confines of the dress. 
I tilted his head to look me in the eyes, a silent conversation of consent happening between us. 
“You were such a good girl out there. Wanna be a good girl in here?” he breathed, a moan slipping out of my lips at his question. 
“I’ll be your best fuckin’ girl.” I replied, and that seemed to snap the tightrope we were on. 
He borderline attacked my neck, hot and heavy kisses spreading like wildfire from behind my ear, down my collarbone, to the top of my breasts. I writhed under him, moans coursing through me as his hand came up to smooth over my thigh, squeezing here and there as it traveled, up, up, up right to where I needed him. 
His other hand that was supporting him moved to my back, tapping for me to arch it. I complied, not ready for the ripping sound that rang through the room as he pulled at it. 
“Did you just-” My eyes wide. He smirked, sending more shock waves to my core. 
“It’s beautiful… it’s gotta go.” he responded, pulling it off me. 
I was flushed, breathless as he went back to kissing my chest, lower and lower by the minute, taking a minute to lightly suck on one of my nipples as he went. My back arched, a loud whimper escaping me. He just chuckled into it, continuing his adventure south. 
He got to my stomach, sucking more kisses on each of my stretch marks that littered my stomach, going for my hips and snapping my panties softly. 
I gave him a silent confirmation, my hands going to his hair, tugging on the strands. He sat up for a second, listening to my whines at the loss of contact. They were quickly silenced as he shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it to the floor. His arms strained in the tight dress shirt, I reached up, snatching a hold of his tie and pulling him to my lips again, both of us moaning into it. 
 “Gotta treat my girl for being so good during all that.” he whispered against them, grinning into my lips as he went right back to where he’d been, pulling off his tie as he did so. 
He pulled down my panties in one go, swiftly discarding them to join the clothes on the floor. His hands ran up my upper thigh, squeezing lightly as his head lowered to my core. 
“Haymitch- Hay-” I gasped, eyes widening as he just grinned into my heat. I gasped as I felt him kiss around, humming as he spread my legs around his head. My hands tightened in his hair, I could barely breathe. 
I thought I’d died before, but that was nothing compared to this. 
His tongue met me, and I about lost my mind. 
I’d only heard of this happening, whispers between women in the hob, things I was definitely not supposed to hear. I usually rolled my eyes at them, sounding like cats in heat. 
Now I got it. 
I couldn’t even begin to understand what I was mumbling, head thrown back as licked and sucked like I was his favorite sweet from the Donner sweet shop. He groaned, hands tightening around my thighs to keep me still as I wiggled around the bed, roses fluttering around us. 
“Stay still sweetpea.” He warned, hitting the spot that made me start to see stars. 
I came sharp and high, squealing as he continued to litter praises between my legs. He kept it up through my high, massaging me through it. 
Once I fully came down he made his way up, hands trailing up me before he dove to my neck and littered even more kisses there. So sweet. So good for me. Relax sweetpea, come back down for me.
My breathing started to even out, exhaustion hitting me full throttle. He just grinned, detaching from me to lean on his hand, hovering beside me. One hand trailed lazy circles on my stomach, the heat and pressure bringing me back to Earth. 
“You should get some sleep.” He murmured, noting the exhaustion and wrecked expression on my face. I barely managed a nod, half asleep as he lifted himself off the bed with a groan, coming back with a warm washcloth and running up between my thighs before he pulled the covers up, ignoring the petals that were scattered everywhere. 
I felt him kiss my cheek before drifting off, whispering something unintelligible against it before he disappeared to the barcart to pour himself a drink. 
I love you. 
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leillaaaa · 6 months ago
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𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐮
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I find it strange how people assume that Teru could easily change his mind about supernaturals since I honestly can't see him budging much. He, as a character, is very grounded in logic (when it comes to supernaturals), only going off emotion when Kou or someone he loves is involved. He probably had to separate emotion and feeling from thinking through things logically, ever since he started working in the Minamoto family business.
I'd say, in my personal interpretation, that he thinks this way because he has seen how dangerous supernaturals can be. He has probably experienced something like he thinks Kou did - he thought a supernatural was his friend, it was harmless, it wouldn't hurt anyone if he didn't kill it ... and was proven wrong. The amount of bloodthirsty supernaturals he's seen is also insanely high. I think him distancing his emotions lessens his guilt of killing them if he seems them as simple, one word concepts and objects. If they're objectively evil or "not living," then it's easier for him to deal with them and have it take less of a mental toll on him.
It's interesting to think about how his relationship with his family so heavily influences his relationship with supernaturals. I honestly just can't think of a situation where his mother is a "good" Mom. There's been flashbacks where Teru, as a child, was fighting supernaturals larger than even the mermaid Hanako fought in the first episode or any of the mysteries and supernaturals Toilet Trio has faced so far. There's also panels where Teru, as a child, was wearing bandages over his hands and arms - proving he at least got a little bit scraped up. Maybe even burned himself with the staff like Kou did. What kind of mother would allow her six to ten year old son to be hurt like this, knowing she could stop it?
Yes, this was absolutely in the timeframe of her being alive. The Minamotos' mother died around the time Tiara was born, which was around when Teru was around eleven years old. She most likely wasn't even sickly at that point, either. She, in full health, allowed for her son to be harmed. I could see Teru trying to hide his injuries to not worry anyone, so he wouldn't be a burden, but come on - she's his MOTHER, I think she would notice something like this happening.
Even if she was the one bandaging his wounds, that honestly doesn't make it much better. She would be fully aware that he was getting hurt and still unhelpful towards Teru's issue. There may have been backlash from the Minamoto Clan and her husband if she tried to withdraw him from training, but the conclusion is clear: she failed to protect her son. It is clear it was a difficult situation, however, and there was not much she could do.
I imagine their relationship like this: Teru thinks that his mother loves Kou and Tiara more, because Kou reminds her more of herself. Teru also seems more like their father, in her eyes. And Teru ends up seeing everything as a burden he must bear, because he is the eldest son. Since that is what he was taught.
Teru honestly has bad mommy issues ... not just because his mother is dead, basically ... I also think it humanizes the mom more if she had some flaws, because the Mother Kou saw in the Red House was an idealized version of her that he remembered. (As in, all her flaws were washed away.) I think it would be interesting if Teru's perception/memories of her were the most realistic to her actual character, and he both hated and loved her. He longs for a mother's love that he never really properly got. But he also resents her for dying and leaving him, Kou, and Tiara, for "not loving" him in the first place. So he has pretty complicated feelings on her.
Obviously, she wasn't a horrible person. She was a loving mother and tried her best. But she also was far from perfect, I think.
I would sum up their relationship through cooking. I don't know if this makes sense, but to me, Teru's horrible cooking skills seem to stem from a lack of interaction between him and his mother. She spent time teaching Kou how to cook, but neglected teaching him. I think it shows sort of subtly that she just ... didn't really form a strong bond with him, and kind of brushed him aside out of guilt. Kou, she saw as the one child left she could protect. In a way, Teru is almost like a Kannagi - a sacrifice for the Minamoto Clan's sake.
Teru shoulders the burden of being the Minamoto Clan's weapon - the perfect exorcist. His worst fear is probably Kou or Tiara having to take his place. Especially since Tiara is powerful, and they seem to start exorcism training at around six years old.
I'm kind of sick of this fandom acting like Teru barely has any trauma/getting him wrong so that's what this ramble is for ...
( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 
Anyways, Teru lovers mutual me pleaseeee !! ‎٩(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)و*̣̩⋆̩*
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qwordavoider · 2 months ago
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Tease Tidbit Tuesday
No one tagged me but I’ve got a lot written for my secret service au so I decided to share more of it, this time from Tommy’s pov. Follows this snippet.
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If you had told Tommy 5 years ago that he would be smuggling the president’s son out of the White House, he probably would’ve had a stroke. For so much of his life, Tommy had been a stickler for the rules and following them to a T. He found that life was easier that way. Not necessarily better… but always easier.
All of that went out the window when he was assigned to lead Evan Buckley’s personal detail. Prior to that, he had worked security for the family on the campaign trail and then at events after Margaret Buckley won the presidency. But the former agent in charge of Evan, Sal Deluca, had to take a step back from active duty because he and his wife, Gina, just had a baby. Deluca had now taken over the training courses at the Secret Service Academy, JJRTC. When the director, Agent Grant, had called him into her office, Tommy hadn’t expected to leave with his job.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he didn’t expect to be promoted to Sergeant either. Nor to be responsible for all of the officers protecting the first son. Most of the time, it was just him and one or two other agents. Sometimes, when they were among other members of the administration or at the house, it was just him. So it was more manageable than supervising a large team or the entire Secret Service like Athena. But that didn’t mean he took his new role any less seriously.
He probably didn’t even need to be as close to Evan as he typically was. He told himself that it was just because he took his assignment very seriously, and that’s why he sat in the kitchen while Evan and Bobby cooked. Or why he sometimes kept Evan company in the private residence, even when they had additional agents at all the entrances.
Another part of Tommy couldn’t help but stick close to Evan, because if he didn’t, who else would?
His sister was running the women’s shelter she founded in Boston. Evan’s parents were usually never around. Which made sense for his mother, since she was running a country. But for his father? There weren’t so many necessary engagements that he couldn’t make time for his son if he really wanted to.
He didn’t have a lot of opportunities for friends either. Evan was extremely social at all of the engagements he attended, but none of them were calling him to hang out on the weekend. It was an isolating existence, and Tommy felt for him.
Even when Tommy had first met Evan on the campaign trail, interacting with thousands of people a day, he still seemed lonely. The speeches he gave were very well received, and he had to give Evan and the campaign team props for a job well done. But Tommy could tell they were manufactured. The second Evan would step off the stage and into a vehicle to move on to the next event, Tommy would watch the way his mask would drop, and the exhaustion would take over every line of his face.
There wasn’t a whole lot he could do while they were on the campaign trail. But occasionally he would be the one behind the wheel, chauffeuring Evan between events. Those times, he would drive the pre-approved route as slowly as he possibly could. Sometimes going 5-10 mph below the speed limit. It had driven Donato, Maddie’s personal detail, absolutely nuts. They had followed in the car behind them a couple of times when the siblings attended events together.
He didn’t know if it ever made that much of a difference in his mood, but Evan did call him out one time when he was driving. Pointing out that he was consistently the slowest driver of all the agents working the campaign trail. That had also been the start of the “old man” comments. Tommy was happy to pretend to be annoyed by them, if it meant giving Evan a reason to smile during his otherwise exhausting days.
Now his strategy had changed. He was focused on keeping Evan as safe as possible while still allowing him some of the freedom he seemed to so desperately crave. So he drove the getaway car and helped him bribe Daryl to give Evan even just a few hours of peace.
Tonight was no different. They didn’t say anything the entire drive, Evan instead opting for silence while watching the DC buildings pass by. Astrid was one of Tommy’s favorite people whom Evan liked to visit. Tommy drove the route to her place on autopilot after so many visits and found the back entrance to the building easily, despite the darkness.
Tommy had barely parked the car before Evan was unbuckling and jumping out. He practically ran up to the building to where Astrid was standing, keeping the back door propped open with her body.
Tommy watched Evan approach her and found himself holding the door open for them as Evan wrapped Astrid in a tight embrace and, to her delight, lifted and spun her around before following her inside.
“Astrid, you look beautiful as always,” Evan flirted shamelessly
Tommy heard her giggle in response. He trailed a few steps behind, scanning all of the different places someone could be hiding. Tommy knew the building had a high level of security, but he still didn’t want to take any risks.
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This is part of my make me write if you want to see more feel free to send me an ask 😌
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Tagging my fav @moonydanny 🩷 so you can see this and in case you need/want a little motivation to post a snippet of any of your wips or fic ideas because I’m obsessed with all of them (obviously no pressure either way 🙂‍↕️)
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gojos-fr-bae · 2 years ago
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Liar pt.3
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader
Warnings: Pregnancy, sososos saaaaaad, ands, fluff, drinnking, I LOVE Kouki
Word Count: 1k (not them getting shorter)
A/N: BOO! Didin't see this coming huh? Me neither tbh but i didn't go to school yesterday and boredom was kiiling me sooo.....
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Month 5
Satrou (I swear we'll see y/n and Kouki this time, allow me this once)
As Satoru slowly awoke from his restless sleep, unbearable nausea overcame him as he threw his bearley living body to his toilet, regurgitating meals he has no memory of even eating. His mouth burned as he vomited bile, burning his tongue.
He had lost his will to live but life refused to let him go. He forced himself to get up, get ready, and prepare himself for the copious amounts of bullshit he would have to deal with throughout whatever amount of time he is able to remain conscious. 
As he sat under a tree, ungodly amounts of booze already flowing through his system, he watched his students train on the plain before him.
He felt the grass beside him shuffle, the scent of surgical spirit and smoke flooding his senses.
“Hey idiot,” Shoko said, her raspy voice barely reaching his ears.
She turned to face her former classmate as he sat there, silent with a stoic face.
“Are you seriously planning on staying boring forever?”
No Answer
Shoko Sighed as she looked at her friend. Ever since you left he had never been the same. It pained her to see the bubbliest, happiest person she has ever known in such a state. It was worlds worse than when they lost Suguru and she couldn’t help but feel for the guy. She placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it slowly, facing him as he stared at nothing.
“Please take care of yourself, and slow down with the drinking, you’re cooking yourself.” she said with a softness that was rare to hear from her.
The doctor rose from her seat and looked down at Satoru, he’ll be okay. Sha’s praying for him to be okay.
Year 1 
Y/N
You woke up and immediately ran to your son’s room, excitement having seeped into every bone in your body .When you walked in and saw you ray of sunshine kneeling against the edge of his crib, bright gummy smile with four front teeth showing and you felt like you were about to EXPLODE.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVEEEEYYYYYY!!!!!!!!” You screamed, picking him up and squeezing him to your chest.
His giggles filled the room and you peppered kisses all over his face. You took him to the living room as he clutched the shirt you were wearing. You walked him to the small living room of your quaint apartment, showing him the cake you stayed up all night baking. You laughed as he put his hand on the cake, smearing it all over his face in an attempt to eat it.
You looked at your son and you felt the love spillover as you couldn't help but tear up at the thought that your precious little angel was growing up. You were so, so proud. But the happiness was slightly soured by the fact that you would have to raise him without his father. You thought about Satoru and where he was right now. From what Megumi had told you, he had taken your disappearance har but he couldn’t really tell you more as Satoru and Megumi barely even saw each other seeing as Satoru buries himself in his work now.
You never hated him and never wished anything bad upon him, but you couldn’t help but miss what you shared, yet when you looked down at your cooing baby, you thought about his future and knew you had done what was best for him. You hope so.
Satoru
Gojo sat in the unoccupied nursery with a blue frosted cupcake in his hands and a number 1 lit candle. He had made sure that he was sober throughout the entire day and night prior just for this occasion. He looked down at the empty crib and pictured you and your child celebrating his first birthday, perfectly happy. 
Without him. 
For all he knew you had moved on to someone else and his child had a loving father taking care of him. Hisalready shattered heart only broke more and yet he was so happy and excited and proud that his son was already a year old.Although he wasn't there to witness it, it still filled him with such innocent joy.
“Happy birthday my love,” He whispered, a lone tear cascading down his cheek.”I love you.”
Year 2
Y/N
You were seated at your desk at 11pm, looking down at all the bills that needed payment by the end of the month. Rent, water, electricity, you need to buy food, clothes, new shoes for Kouki, and on top of all of this, he was meant to start school in September which was only a month away and you aren't sure how you were going to make all these payments on time seeing as your job didn’t pay you enough to handle it.
“Mommy?” you heard a soft voice call at the entrance of the office. At your door stood your precious kikufuku dressed in his kitty onesie and blue and white monkey plushie being dragged on the ground behind him as he held it loosely.
“Baby, what are you doing awake?” you cooed as he waddled towards you and raised his arms as a sign for you to carry him. 
You and your son were extremely attached to each other not only because you were his only parent (technically) but because you worked as customer care you were able to work from home, meaning you two were together 24/7 and it showed.
You placed him on your lap and he immediately snuggled as close to you as possible.
“Sweepy,” he murmured, already falling asleep in your arms.
You looked down at him, kissing his forehead as you realized that you might not be able to give him a life that he deserves. 
But you would, If you went back to teaching.
You didn’t want to get yourself involved with what happened right after his birth again but you needed him to have the best life possible. And if that meant you needed to go back, you had no choice. You had to do it for him.
But at what cost?
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Hope this is good😭🏃🏿‍♀️
Also, Thank you to EVERYONE forthe support, almost at 100 followersssss!!!!! Much love❤️❤️
@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here
© gojos-fr-bae
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godhandler · 1 year ago
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Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo
#2 - The Ring Ceremony
[noritoshi kamo, 12 is engaged to his bride, 7. gojo satoru says hi.]
tw: forced marriage, child marriage (yes I'll age my characters up, let's have the angst for now), angst, Zenin clan being Zenin clan, noritoshi x reader, no use of 'y/n', fluff a bit, no smut.
#1 - Omiai #3 - Menarche
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Growth happens sporadically. For example, you had not grown much in the first eight years of your life. Not much reason to, really. Your cursed technique became clear surprisingly early, at about 3 years of age, and since then you had lived the proper Zenin life. One of abundance, joy and familial love. If you said you wanted that cake, or that flower, or this or that, you had it in your hand immediately. Your father even talked about you being the clan head someday, impossible as it sounded to you. 
It wasn’t like you didn’t know anything about the flip side of it. Your dearest cousins Maki and Mai weren’t as special as you, you noticed. Nor was your mother as important as your father, in fact no aunty or grandma were as important as their husbands. But you were special. Surely you were.
There had been talks about your powers recently, before the Kamos visited you. Your family, the whole horde of them, would test you. It wasn’t very difficult. Curses would be brought out and you would have to use Distillation to choose the best cursed weapon to kill them. You would be shown a missing person report, you had to figure out where the person was. A funner game was the Maze Game, where Grandpa Naobito would leave you in a maze, or labyrinth, or anywhere you didn’t really know, and you would have to find your way out. Compared to school, this was actually more exciting to do. Especially the praise you would get afterwards from everyone. The prodigy of the family. The princess of the castle. 
You, idiot child you were, never really wondered how your family would react if you had happened to fail the tests. You never failed. You never disappointed. 
So it was quite sobering to be sitting in the Pit of Punishment after your attempt to run away. A failed attempt. You were disappointing both yourself and the Zenin clan. 
Naoya Zenin was lounging near the door, not actually letting the curses eat you – just enough to scare you. It was working. You were fucking terrified really, but somehow your cousin being there allowed you to not piss your pants. Naoya was a kind man. 
Mai. Mai come save me. Please. Nii-chan, please come, I can't move. Maki, mother, father, grandpa, please help me. someone, please, help me out.
“Really, little Zenin- oh, should I call you Kamo now?” He laughed. “Is this any way for a lady to behave?”
I’m 8, idiot. What lady are you talking about? 
Was it the ten minutes you spent in the pit, or the past two months of lady-training (as you called it), that made you grow up so fast? Somehow, after your marriage was fixed, handling tea-sets and cooking tamagoyaki became insanely important. But the worst was the lessons on womanly etiquette, on the ways of wifely manners, behaviours and duties. Unlike you, Maki and Mai were free to do as they liked, talk about being sorcerers and travelling to America. Not even they helped you, no one did. Hence came the plan Run-Away-From-Home. You got surprisingly far actually. Distillation was great for this: you could see every lapse in your home security, everything that you needed to carry, every route you should take. You had made it to the Kyoto train station before your family could get a hold of you. 
No longer were you a precious child, but you never really were, were you? You were nothing more than a lucky asset to have. The Zenin clan did not hesitate to earn the returns on you as soon as possible. Unfortunately soon. You are eight.
Naoya walks down the steps into the Pit where you lay curled in a foetal position and prods you with his finger. “Up, Kamo-chan” He grins, “Back to your chambers”. The curses melt away into the darkness. 
The days go by in a blur. Obedience, subservience, wifely duties, be agreeable, be quiet, be attentive, the domain of the kitchen and bedroom, marriage, husband, Noritoshi Kamo. You want to drive a machete through that man’s chest. He’s the cause of all this, yes, it’s all his fault. Now that your marriage has been fixed (and a bride price of 60 million yen wrestled from the Kamo clan) there isn’t actually any care or concern for your previously much praised cursed technique. When you think about it, it isn’t really great in any way, is it? Distillation allows the user to understand everything within the span of their eyesight. Every question answered, every mystery solved, the cloudy waters distilled – as long as you can see it. You suppose Sherlock Holmes would love this power, but you are fated to be a wife and mother, nothing more. Maybe it’ll help you find the broom closet faster. The days and months are all plagued by the same thing: Noritoshi Kamo.
—- 
Satoru Gojo walks about the lavishly decorated garden. Megumi would’ve liked the food, he muses, his stark white mop reflecting sunlight over the heads of the celebrating crowd. A Kamo-Zenin engagement, and all the festivities that came with it. Ah, the celebrations of higher-ups, nothing gets them happier than child marriage. Thank fuck I saved Megumi. He didn’t have much choice in attending this. As the Gojo clan head, there are some things you must do, regardless of personal feelings. To not rock the boat. To keep the status quo as it is. 
The ring ceremony is over, bride-to-be and groom-to-be having identical rings on their hands now, and they have retired back into the inner chambers of the Kamo estate. Blood Manipulation and Distillation? Satoru smiled, worth a visit. 
Satoru Gojo wasn’t expecting any resistance from anyone, because A. he’s Satoru Gojo and B. he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong per se, it’s just that people distrusted his movies meeting the young couple. For good measure, what if I teach the kids the concept of free will?
He found the two sitting by themselves on a veranda, apologising to each other about the marriage. Clearly, people were too busy merry-making to notice the runaway pair. Besides, where would they even run away to? There is nowhere to go. Satoru frowned. They’re too young to be behaving like this. 
“Ah, young love!” He happily startled the two with his sudden appearance, “Do you two turtle-doves have space for a dashing older brother like me?”
They did not return his wide grin and wider arms. Satoru watched as recognition clicked onto both their faces (your father had shown you two a picture of Satoru Gojo and told you to avoid him). The Kamo boy, a lean young man of 12, got up slowly and bowed to him, welcoming him with such formal words. The Zenin bride, a literal child of maybe 8, nodded her head, trying to quickly hide her tears. She said nothing, seemingly hiding behind her brand-new fiancé. 
Satoru laughed at the sight. One day I’ll grind down these motherfucking old ass clans who do this shit to kids, I swear to myself. “Scared of me, little brat?” The poor child, look at her. “Aren’t you the sorcerer with the immense Distillation technique?” 
You glance up at him, eyes still watery. Gojo Satoru is startling to look at. Shocking white hair, a full head taller than most people, blindfolded in broad daylight, the palest skin on his handsome features. And his abounding cursed energy, it stuns (and maybe scares) you. The blindfold doesn’t stop much, his gaze can be felt searing into your skin. There is nothing you can do. Helpless, pitiful, sold like sheep by your own family. And yet– 
“Immense?” 
“Aren’t you the one with all the answers? A prophet of sorts, no?”
What? In all your life, you had never thought of things like that– Could you? Were you?
“Her technique is brilliant, Gojo-sama.” Noritoshi lends a hand. “The way I understand it, a bit like your Six Eyes, yes?”
And before you could remember your wifely training, you found yourself contesting him. “Not really, the Six Eyes help him see, in the physical sense. I understand things that aren’t there really. For example, Gojo-sama can see me through my wataboshi, I am certain, but I can see Gojo-sama’s thoughts on this wedding.” Despite everything, you can't not be you.
Satoru claps his hands together, “Perfect explanation, even though that was a bit creepy” He laughs. “Can you really hear my thoughts?” 
“I’m not sure”
“Try–”
Cursed Technique: Distillation
The crowds outside suddenly falls quiet, so do the other two in your room. There is no movement, no sound, no thought except for yours. Satoru Gojo’s formal shirt is from Junya Watanabe’s recent Summer Collection. His molars hurt because he ate too much daifuku at the dessert station. He disapproves of your marriage, but this is a hill that he cannot die on. He’s had some meaty ginger chicken packed from lunch for his adopted son, Megumi Fushiguro. He thinks Noritoshi is too tall and too mature for his age. He truly is impressed to see your technique. He thinks this is all nonsense, and that you are a child, and that you should enjoy your youth to the fullest as a young girl, not as a wife. He promises that no matter what, he will arrange for you to attend Jujutsu Tech School. 
—--
Satoru Gojo left soon after. After a long time, you saw hope in your future.
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#3 - Menarche
pics:
sftish_
2. anime screencap
[A/N: honestly i recently binged the whole manga, i cant cross chapter 210 ish, a beloved character of mine seems to face imminent death, im just not ready for it. plus im procrastinating on an assignment, a viva voce test, 300+ pages of reading and a research project due this month, so have at my random burst of energy
do lemme know if u like it, or if i can make any changes? like chapter's too long, or my writing is a bit unclear, id love to hear feedback :)) ]
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gatheringbones · 2 years ago
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[“Terry’s hair was long & thick, bleached blond, perhaps because she wanted to be a princess in a fairy tale instead of real. We wrote letters to one another, passionately declaring our eternal love, which the technicians stole. One night when she was sitting on my bed in the dorm after lights out, as I brushed her hair, they threw on the lights in a frenzy of disgust & separated us for being lesbians. We were too drugged and too frightened to do more than hold hands. The head nurse was a lesbian, who called Terry’s mother, who came the next day to take her home to her psychiatrist father, to whom she had not spoken in over four years. I was sent to the old women’s ward for punishment, where my job was to feed the bed-bound ladies, some of them in restraints all the time. The stench of urine & untreated cancer was overwhelming. I wrote long, intense letters to Terry, which I could not send, hiding them under my green plastic mattress. Terry’s stars are deep burgundy, & I bleed into the other colors when I mourn that we never made love.
Then Maggie was dragged onto our ward, in hot pink tights & purple smock, her teeth glittering with mischief Far from being depressed by the surroundings, she sang bawdy songs to the old ladies she fed, opening our misery with laughter. She was from a wealthy Marin family who sent her there to straighten her up & scare her into agreeing to marry the man they wanted to sell her off to, although they wouldn’t say it like that (she did). Somehow her wedding veil was among her belongings. She liked to wear it to the vast dining barrack because it annoyed the nurses so much. It was very beautiful, expensive lace which she trailed behind her like indifference. One day Maggie & I decided to get married. The guy who thought he was jesus was happy to perform our ceremony, held in the courtyard of our adjoining wards, surrounded by hundreds of old glass windows barred with iron grates. I wore Maggie’s veil & my Napa State Hospital white cardigan tied to make a train. We both carried huge bouquets of lilacs, which were blooming wildly in that hot, dry country. All our patient guests cheered & clapped so loudly that we couldn’t hear what jesus was saying. We only got to stroll down the sidewalk, showered with rice that Edith had filched from the kitchen where she was one of the cooks, before our union was rudely interrupted by burly male guards straining with anger in their white uniforms.
Everyone was locked down, some of us in solitary, & the bells went off for riot alert. Maggie’s poor veil was ripped apart by their feet & rage & arms. The head nurse (another lesbian) called Maggie’s mother that night, & before I had a chance to kiss her hello & goodbye, Maggie was driven away the next morning in her father’s limp-dick limo (her words again), as we ate our powdered eggs, silently depressed.
However, Maggie was a very sneaky & smart girl. She calmly arrived the following day in her VW bug (custom-painted purple, as are her stars) & said she had come back to collect her belongings, which no one had thought to pack up. Her mother, a master materialist (probably hoping for the veil), was very understanding. The hospital wanted to be accommodating in hope of future funds. So Maggie surprised me by returning to busily pack up not very much. We weren’t allowed to talk, & the nurses were watching us sharply until Ursula, understanding our need, threw her tennis shoe at the TV, screaming. Maggie palmed me a note to meet her by the lilac hedge behind the building, where she had conveniently parked. I left as though going to my new job at the dairy (cow shit apparently being a step up from human shit). The other women realized Ursula’s intentions & took off their keds, too. My last sight of that day room (where I had been declared incurably schizophrenic) was of flying sneakers, screaming technicians, breaking glass, & laughing patients—a really lovely melee. Because, of course, Maggie had returned to rescue me. We pulled out the backseat of her bug & I lay down across the battery. She laid a Mexican blanket over me, while I tried to project looking like a backseat. She piled her boxes, mostly empty, on top of me. The guards at the main gate were distracted by another call from the ward where the women who weren’t strapped down could not be contained. Maggie smiled, they gave her back her driver’s license, & off we went. On the other side of town, Maggie freed me from my seat charade & I tasted the wind in my hair for the first time in more than a year. She drove me to Big Sur, where I’d never been & they wouldn’t look for me (I had seven previous escapes, which is why I was on the violent ward so often, a curious juxtaposition—is freedom indeed violence, for lesbians?). In her trunk she had a sleeping bag, some food, money, & clothes that didn’t say Napa State on them for me. She dropped me near an overpass under which fellow fugitives of all kinds were camped, driving back to Marin, where perhaps she did escape marrying him. My belongings & three cartons of writing may still be in a dusty storage room at Napa. I guess I’m AWOL. Freedom’s worth the loss. If not for Maggie, I’d still be in the loony bin, incurable & terrified, not allowed to be a lesbian except with technicians. But I ripped that nurse out of the quilt.
Big Sur was rich with empty summer houses we raided for canned goods as a gang of teenage runaways, Vietnam War deserters, Rez escapees & drug dealers. We caught and roasted a wild pig. We hid out from the park rangers. We flirted with soldiers from the base for bags of potato chips, Hostess lemon pies, & chocolate bars. It was my theory we wouldn’t get scurvy if we ate the pies. We dropped acid & had orgies & stole into the mud baths at night. I was in a fog & detoxing from the nuthouse drugs, until one dusk when my eyes became diamond sharp at the sight of a thin young guy getting out of a hitchhiking ride at the convenience store near the campgrounds. He had black wavy hair cut in a DA falling forward over his face, wearing a leather motorcycle jacket that oozed sex. Our eyes caught across the parking lot & I fell in love like slamming into earth. I walked over, offering my open bag of BBQ pork rinds. Her reaching hand made me laugh & I blurted out, “I thought you were a guy.” She looked me up & down intensely, startled me by stroking my crotch with a quick secret movement, & growled, “Good.”]
chrystos, from cherry picker, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000
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sisterofsomeone · 1 year ago
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Till Death Do Us Part
Chapter 1/10
Chapter 2
Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.
Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)
Word count: 3.5K
Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3
This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.
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Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.
You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.
“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”
“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.
“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.
“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.
“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.
“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.
“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.
“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.
“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”
It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.
The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.
It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.
“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.
“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.
“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.
“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.
“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”
“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.
“Who are you?”
Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.
“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.
“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.
“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.
“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.
“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.
“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.
“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.
“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.
“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”
“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”
The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.
“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.
“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.
“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.
“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.
“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.
“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.
But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.
“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.
“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.
The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.
“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.
“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.
“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.
“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.
There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.
There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.
You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.
“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.
“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.
“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.
“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.
“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.
“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.
His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.
“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.
“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.
“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.
“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.
“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.
“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.
“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.
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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 years ago
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Whiskey Kisses
Part of my 900 Followers Celebration!
Request: HI CONGRATS ON 900 FOLLOWERS!!!!! could I please request “admit it. you used to have feelings for me,” with Roy Kent? 💙💙
Roy Kent x Reader
1.4k words
Warnings: Language, drinking
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“You’ll never guess who’s joining us for dinner!” your mum squealed as she scurried around the kitchen, her question greeting you as you walked through the door after work.
“Nan?” came your flat answer as you grabbed a slice of tomato from her cutting board.
Her sneaky giggle told you that no, it was not your grandmother.
A half hour later, you were still blinking in shock. Roy fucking Kent was sitting next to you in the dining room, sipping a beer and eating your mother’s cooking while chatting nonchalantly with your dad.
You hadn’t seen Roy in… five, six years? Your parents were close mates, and the two of you had always been friendly. There was always an offer for you to join your parents at Richmond matches when he sent over tickets, but something always came up, stopping you from going. Apparently he came over for dinner about every six months or so, something your mother had conveniently forgotten to mention when she insisted on you coming tonight.
Dinner was as normal as dinner could be, with Roy politely asking you questions about work and what you’d been up to since the last time you saw one another. He seemed particularly interested when you mentioned breaking up with your long-term boyfriend, the dull one who was obsessed with the fact that you vaguely knew a professional footballer.
“Never did get him that autograph he wanted,” you teased, knocking your shoulder into Roy’s, suddenly overcome with that old familiarity of two people who’d grown up around each other.
Roy snorted, shooting you a grin, the one you remembered fondly. “He wasn’t getting one from me.”
“No?” You raised your eyebrows.
“Fuck no. I hated that prick.” He wrinkled his nose as you allowed the subject to drop.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to Roy Kent. Or at least, you had been. There was a time when you were about sixteen when you stupidly thought you had a shot with him and kissed him at a party, in your bedroom where the two of you were sharing the bottle of whiskey he’d nicked when your parents weren’t looking. He’d kissed you back, being a horny sixteen-year-old boy, but never spoke of the incident again. The next thing you knew, he was making his debut and dating models and actresses. And he became nothing more than a charming anecdote you could share at the pub after a few drinks, someone you politely said hello to at your parents’ garden parties when he could find the time to make an appearance.
After dinner and dessert, you announced that you should start walking home. Roy was immediately on his feet.
“Let me drive you.”
So, you wound up in that giant black car, the one your father felt the need to tell you about after Roy had bought it, alone with Roy Kent for the first time since that night in your childhood bedroom. And, much to your displeasure, you felt just as nervous as you’d felt then.
When his car pulled up to your house, you turned and did the polite thing, knowing the answer would be no: “Come in for a nightcap?”
You fully expected him to decline, to say something about being in training in the morning, to explain that he had a party to get to, or to mumble something about a date he was late for. Instead, he turned off his car with a “Sure, why not?”
For the second time that night, you found yourself surprised to be sitting next to Roy Kent, this time on your couch, once again sharing a bottle of whiskey.
At first, the conversation stumbled, with you asking questions you already knew the answer to about his football season and his sister, who you really should call sometime, and him repeating questions from dinner about your work and asking if you were really done with your ex or if it was just a break, because if so, he was sorry for calling him a prick. But, as you poured a second and third round, he relaxed into your couch, an arm draped behind you and you leaning into it, wondering if he remembered that night as vividly as you did.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen your house,” he murmured, glancing around the living room. “It’s nice.”
“Thanks,” you managed, trying not to focus on the warmth of his arm. “I like it.”
He glanced down at you, smirk playing on his lips. “Fucking throws you back, doesn’t it? Alone, sharing a bottle. Might not be your bedroom, but I guess this is technically yours.”
He remembered. “Yeah,” you chuckled, tucking some hair behind your ear so you could focus on something besides Roy Kent sitting on your couch with his arm around you. “We were just silly little kids then.”
“It sure didn’t feel silly then.” He turned to face you properly, drink completely forgotten in his hand now. “Admit it. You used to have feelings for me.” There was definitely an edge of teasing in his voice, something you hadn’t heard in ages and didn’t even know you missed until this moment. But there was something else, something more serious, something almost hopeful.
You rolled your eyes, hoping to diffuse the quickly growing tension. “I was sixteen and had been drinking. I’d have kissed any fella was in that room with me.”
His grin didn’t fade. “Sure, sure,” he murmured, his hand coming up from the back of the couch to brush some hair out of your face. “Guess I was just lucky to be that fella,” he hummed.
The whiskey lowering your defenses, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, must’ve felt really lucky, the way you never spoke about it again.”
“I mean…” Roy bit his lip and let out a breathy chuckle. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look… nervous? “Come on. The girl I fancied fucking kissed me and then I had to head back to Sunderland in the morning. Didn’t think I had the right to- to ask you to, I don’t fucking know, wait for me or some shit.”
Oh.
“You fancied me?” You didn’t bother hiding your own smile.
Bashful looked good on Roy Kent. “Fuck off, you know I did.” His thumb stroked your cheek. “Always thought you were gorgeous. Smart. Funny. Only girl I ever met who knew how long a keeper can hold the ball.”
“Six seconds,” you answered automatically, a hint of bragging in your voice.
“You were my fucking dream girl,” Roy teased, his hand still on your face.
You squirmed, trying not to lose the warmth of his touch. “That’s a lot of past tense there, Kent. Guess I blew my shot?”
His mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. He closed it and opened it again, finally finding his ability to speak. “You’d never blow your shot,” he said, his voice low. “Not with me.”
Praying you weren’t making a total fool of yourself, you leaned forward to close the space between you, space you knew had been there for a long time. Suddenly, you were sixteen again, Roy Kent’s mouth on yours, tasting like whiskey and delight. Sure, there was a beard scratching your face that hadn’t been there last time, and the sounds of your parents and their friends shrieking with laughter wasn’t coming in through the windows, but the exhilaration and joy were still there. And the feeling of his tongue skimming against yours still sent electricity through your whole body; you couldn’t help but think that he was much more skilled with it now than he was as a teenager.
When you parted, there was that same breathlessness, those same expressions of bashfulness and embarrassment, the same questions being exchanged between your gazes. Except this time, Roy did something he didn’t before.
“Think we could have dinner sometime?” You’d never heard this kind of nervous hesitation in his voice before. You liked knowing you were the cause of it. “Without your parents.”
“That would be nice.” You set down your glass and scooted closer to him. “You’re a much better kisser than you were at sixteen,” you teased, taking his glass and setting it down next to yours.
He grinned. “You sure? Think I might still need some more practice. Care to help me with that?”
He didn’t need to ask twice.
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sneaky-eel · 1 year ago
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Sense Ubisoft decided to give us jack shit on Desmond's mother I wanted to do my own little head-canon of her.
Desmond's mother is a cold, no-nonsense woman. A prodigy in her own right who was probably one of the options for the next mentor, but preferred field work. Her acts of love are through services and what is a better service to those she loves then ridding the world of templars. The longest she probably went without being out in the field was when Desmond was born and it isn't till he is 5 or 6 that she goes back out. Now she is working twice as hard. Not just for her fellow assassins, but now she has a son. A son who will be forced to do this same exact thing if she doesn't do something.
So she is around less and less. One day here, two days there. And maybe she thinks she is doing her family a favor. She deludes herself into thinking this will push Bill and Desmond closer together. Desmond will love Bill more because he is there and she is not. But it has the opposite effect. As he gets older Desmond starts to resent Bill. He can never be good enough. Never strong enough or fast enough. He is subjected to a constant stream of belittlement from his father. Bill works all the time and Desmond hates that he is forced to have dinners at an empty table all alone while Bill is in his office. So close but still too far.
But his mother? Oh his mother is his hero because all this time he has been building in his head the idea of what his mother is. An ideal mother. "Yeah she isn't here cause she is keeping us safe. Everyone says how great she is. The best of the best." He tells himself. Then as he gets older he starts to compare Bill to this idea of his mother. "If mom was here she'd be able to explain this better to me. She is really smart.", "When mom gets back I'm sure she can help me with this move. She's the best.", "Once mom gets here we can have dinner like a family, maybe we can cook together." on and on.
Finally, at 16, his mother is home for the first time for a longer than a day. Two whole weeks in fact. And he is so excited only for that reunion to be awkward and kind of cold. He doesn't get those meals together like he hoped. Training with her is worse than his father. With Bill he had learned when the man is actually paying attention and where, which allowed Desmond to slack in other areas, but with his mother she is always watching. She nitpicks every movement and doesn't seem to understand why he can't get something on the first try. She pushes Desmond well past exhaustion and makes him train even past that. Desmond's carefully crafted view of his mother is destroyed in just a few days leaving him empty and convinced that neither of his parents actually love him.
From Desmond's mother's point of view the reunion is "cold" because she doesn't know what to say to her son. She has been gone for so much of his life and the only things she really knows about him are through Bill. She knows he has potential, but he is "disinterested" and "never takes anything seriously" so in training she pushes him. She has been a field agent this whole time. She knows that a single misstep can mean death and Desmond is already 16. In a few more years they will send him on his first mission and she will be damned if she lets him die. Those missed meals together? She is with Bill in his office helping with his work and on occasion they will sit there with a bottle of scotch between them, talking about life before. Before he had to be mentor, when they had at least a little time to themselves. A little time for each other. She doesn't see what she is doing to Desmond.
When it's time for her to leave again she doesn't question Desmond's lack of smile or how he says he is going to go "train", she only thinks 'Good. He is going to start taking things more seriously.' She doesn't think anything is wrong when she gets off the plane and she drives to the safe-house. She doesn't know that Desmond has snuck out. Ran away from the home he believes never even cared about him. Nothing is wrong until Bill calls her and says the three words the shatters her world.
"Desmond is gone."
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