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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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The Second One (1/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: angst, kissing, physical violence, swearing, toxic relationship, toxic behaviour, manipulation ]

[ description: On the occasion of their grandfather's birthday, her older sister, Alys, comes to their house and introduces her partner to their family, who from the very beginning arouses her concern with his behavior. After a series of unpleasant words and arguments, he visits her in her room in the night, paying her a strange, ambiguous visit. Dark, manipulative, bitchy Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 1 of The Loved One

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

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Her family decided to throw a party for her grandfather at their house to celebrate his 90th birthday, at which her older sister appeared for the first time with her partner. She was surprised that her man was so young and thought with shock that the age difference between them was at least 10 years.

She and her never understood each other very well, as Alys pursued her goals over dead bodies. After many years, she realised that she could not trust her, that she had to be careful with her words around her. She loved her and tried to accept her as she was, but she couldn't be her friend.

Nor did it seem to her that Alys could ever see her as such.

She introduced the man she had come with perfunctorily, a scar on his left cheek – it seemed to her, looking at him from a distance, that one of his eyes was artificial, shining strangely in the light of the chandelier.

He was dressed in black tight jumper and fitted trousers, standing with his hands folded in front of him like a bodyguard, not paying much attention to what his sister was saying, biting his lower lip.

She thought that he didn't want to be here at all.

She shuddered when their gazes met for a long moment. Instead of looking away, however, she felt a sense of discomfort as she saw the way his eyes ran shamelessly over her entire body, the tip of his tongue hitting the side of his cheek.

She left the room deciding she didn't want to look at it, walking out through the back door into the garden.

Alys always overshadowed her – she felt small and bland in her presence. Her older sister could make a good impression when she wanted to, always extremely feminine, confident and mysterious, a true femme fatale.

She was very successful in the fashion industry, modeling for many years, her face was on the front pages of the world's magazines.

Unsurprisingly, she did not seek the friendship of her younger sister, who was a nobody next to her, a little girl playing at studying literary history. She loved reading, in the world of books she could be whoever she wanted, she could be the only one, the main character in the story.

Despite what she was feeling, she tried not to show her or anyone else her pain, focusing on her friends from her studies and the fact that she really liked what she was doing, recognising that getting into university thanks to her results without being forced to pay tuition fees was also some kind of success, something her parents always emphasised.

She sat on the grass taking advantage of the fact that it was a pleasant summer evening, due to living far outside the city boundaries she could admire the stars that stretched above her across the cloudless dark sky.

She heard the sound of a door being pushed open and slid shut and thought it was her father smoking compulsively. She smiled as she heard someone's footsteps heading in her direction being sure it was him, hearing the sound of a lighter being fired up and the hiss of a cigarette.

She glanced over her shoulder and froze seeing the man Alys had come with looking at her intently. She pulled back slightly as he sat down next to her, shocked to feel her heart pounding hard, knowing it was strange to say the least.

She felt uncomfortable.

He held out his hand with his cigarette to her and she shook her head without looking at him, wondering if she should return home. He grinned, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

"Are you running away from her too?" He asked with some kind of amusement, his voice low, deep, slightly hoarse. She felt a shudder at his words and looked at him uneasily with a expression of surprise on her face, wondering what he was implying.

She was running away from whom?

From Alys?

She swallowed loudly, recognising that his words were rude.

They might not have liked each other, but she was her sister.

"Why be with someone you're running away from?" She asked frustrated, wondering if he had come to arouse her sister's jealousy, to tease her at her expense.

She had no intention of getting dragged into any of their games.

She felt a squeeze in her throat when he looked at her with some kind of mockery – before responding to her, he pressed his cigarette to his lips and took a deep drag, letting the smoke out along with his words.

"She can fuck well." He hummed, as if it was a normal, decent response.

She shook her head in disbelief and stood up, moving ahead, leaving him alone. She walked into her house and passed Alys, who wanted to ask her a question.

"Did you perhaps see −"

"− in the garden."

She couldn't look at him for the entire dinner and, as if he was doing it on purpose, he took the seat opposite her before Alys could decide for him where they would sit. She told him to move closer to her mother, but he settled comfortably in his chair, playing with his fork.

"No. I'm fine here." He muttered, throwing her a long, meaningful look. She pressed her lips together, swallowing loudly, feeling sick to her stomach.

She thought they were both worthy of each other.

She had no idea what their relationship was, but Alys liked to live on the edge and perhaps that was what she experienced with him.

Extreme emotions.

Her older sister finally sat down next to him, noticing her at last, asking her questions out of politeness that she didn't feel like answering, seeing him looking at her with a smirk that made her sick.

What kind of man was this?

"How are you doing in your studies? What are you reading now? Any poetry?" She asked in her soft, low, feminine voice, taking a sip of wine, fixing her long black hair.

She exhaled quietly, swallowing hard, looking down at her plate, on which lay an uneaten piece of meat.

"I'm reading the prose of Witold Gombrowicz right now. He's a Polish writer." She explained, convinced that her sister would certainly not know who it was, she, however, surprised her as she blinked, looking at her partner in wonder.

"Gombrowicz… do you by any chance have books by this author in your flat, Aemond?" She asked him curiously, his gaze, however, not even paying her a moment's attention, fixed on her, making her feel like sinking to the ground.

"Yes." He replied briefly, with some kind of satisfaction from which she grew hot, feeling uncomfortable with the idea that she had any interest in common with the man who sat before her. Alys stirred in her chair, intrigued.

"That's interesting. Well, tell me, little sister, what this Gombrowicz is writing about." She said lightly, putting a bit of salad on her plate.

She felt some kind of humiliation at her words, like a monkey in a circus who was now going to juggle her knowledge for her enjoyment. She sighed quietly, giving up, having no idea how to explain it to her.

"It's complicated." She said truthfully, and her sister snorted.

"Don't you know what you're reading about? What are they teaching you in these studies?" She asked with lively amusement. She felt a tightening in her throat and tears pushing into her eyelids, which she held back with difficulty.

She exhaled and looked at the man sitting in front of her, staring at her expectantly, intrigued as to what she would do, how she would answer, the fingers of his hand rubbing against each other in a gesture of anticipation.

"Gombrowicz uses difficult metaphors, swaps out certain words, using other, infantile ones in their place. Most of it is written as if he himself is the protagonist of events, it is like his stream of consciousness, the plot is simultaneously present and absent.

What all his books have in common is that he is a broken man, rejected by Poland and the Poles because he fled to Argentina on the Transatlantic right after the outbreak of the Second World War instead of staying and fighting.

Everything he writes about is his relationship with his country, which he loves and hates, which he longs for and abhors, his despair about his sexuality and his psyche. He wrote all his life in Polish, but he did not return to Poland, the communists did not want to publish his work.

He was unable to express his feelings in another language and although he was considered a traitor, in my opinion his true feeling for his country, the enormity of his suffering in seeing how much poison there was in his nation, which he pointed his fingers at when others praised it to the skies, is expressed in his work.

He is, in my opinion, an outstanding author." She said on almost one exhale, grabbing her glass of water. She took a deep sip from it, setting it down with a loud clink of glass, not looking at them, feeling her heart pounding hard.

Her sister blinked, raising her eyebrows, shaking her head.

"Oh, Mother, so many long sentences, and I still don't know exactly what his books are about. Anyway, I'm glad that you're doing well with your studies." She said lightly, and she shuddered to see a wide, dangerous smile spread across the lips of the man before her.

He was enjoying what was happening.

He drew satisfaction from it.

Her sister went back to eating, turning to their aunt across the table, not seeing that she was struggling to hold back tears of humiliation.

Nor did she see the way her partner looked at her sister, unaware that he was giving her far too much attention.

She thought they were both fucked up.

She knew that another half hour at the most and she could run upstairs to her room saying she would go to bed and leave this whole gathering.

She saw Aemond grab a bottle of wine and pour himself half a glass, her sister threw him a puzzled, upset look.

"You're driving, aren't you?" She burbled, and he hummed under his breath, taking a deep sip. He set his glass down without looking at her.

"Not anymore. I'm tired."

She felt a squeeze in her pit at the thought that he was trying to make them stay here instead of going back to the city.

She thought the last thing she wanted was to listen to them moaning on the other side of the wall and looked away, resigned and tired.

According to her plan, after several minutes she said a polite goodbye to everyone and said she would go to bed now, not honouring him or her sister with a single glance.

She changed into her pyjamas consisting of a T-shirt and shorts and locked her door, wanting to make sure no one tried to enter her room.

She swallowed loudly when, an hour later, she heard their voices in the corridor, lifting her gaze from the book she had just been reading in the light of her bedside lamp while sitting on her bed.

"I told you already, I don't want to stay here overnight. Let's order an Uber." Her sister insisted, she could hear her muffled, frustrated voice.

"And I told you I am tired. I'd like to finally fucking rest. You wanted me to come, I came, and now I want to go to bed. Is that so fucking much?" She heard his low, angry voice and felt discomfort at the thought of hearing every word knowing that this was their private conversation.

"Can you keep your voice down? Do you always have to act like a little child? And why are you looking like a pervert at my little sister, huh? Do you think I can't see? Do you want to fuck her?" She hissed out in a whisper, and she felt her heart pounding hard, ashamed, embarrassed and horrified by her words, by the fact that she had noticed it and pretended that nothing had happened.

She heard his low chuckle.

"Maybe I want to. Maybe she wouldn't act like a bitch to me like you do." He growled and she heard a loud splat followed by complete silence.

She slapped him.

She stared at her door, breathing unevenly, swallowing her saliva with difficulty, wondering if she should come out and intervene or if it was better to stay quiet.

"Get the fuck out of my house." She hissed and he laughed, as if her words amused him.

"Fuck no. I'll stay here overnight and drive home in the morning by my car. If you want, order an Uber. Sorry −"

She heard someone come upstairs and from the way he spoke she deduced that it was her mother.

"− will it be a problem if I stay here overnight? I feel bad and I wouldn't want to go back to the city in this condition." He said lowly.

There was silence again – she thought that her mother didn't know what to do, having surely heard at least some of their argument.

"− I − yes − of course −" She muttered after a while. She heard the sound of a door opening on the other side of the corridor, their voices becoming increasingly indistinct.

Then she heard the loud clatter of Alys' heels, her and her mother's voices as they ran down the stairs.

"Fucking bastard." Said her sister, their mother trying to reassure her.

"− after all, I can't just throw him out, since you invited him −"

She heard the loud slamming of the front door. She got up on trembling legs and walked slowly to the window, seeing her sister lighting a cigarette with trembling hands, wiping her cheeks.

She cried.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the sight, and even though she had hurt her so often with her words, she felt sorry for her. After a moment, she saw an Uber pull up in front of their house, and she got into it and just drove off.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that she had gone, but he had stayed.

What was he planning?

She turned off her lamp, hiding under the duvet, swallowing loudly, listening for any sounds. She felt restless – she couldn't fall asleep and she shivered feeling her heart pounding hard.

She felt that something was about to happen.

She shuddered, snapped out of a deep sleep when she heard a quiet knock on her door. She glanced quickly at her phone's display and saw that it was two o'clock in the morning.

She looked at her door, figuring that if she didn't get up he would go away, but he knocked again. She covered her face with her hands, feeling tears under her eyelids with fear.

"Please, go away. Please." She said pleadingly, wanting him to take pity on her, not having the strength for it, for their pushing and shoving, for him to fuck her now when in a week's time they'd be back together with her sister, looking for thrills, hating and loving each other like two elements.

She had no intention of being anyone's plaything.

"I want to talk about Gombrowicz." He said lowly and she groaned loudly, licking her lips, shaking her head.

"It's two in the morning." She muttered beggingly, not understanding completely what he had in mind.

"I'm not going until we talk about him." He said after a moment in a matter-of-fact, cool tone, and she sighed heavily, stood up and walked to the door, turning the key.

She opened it for him and there he was, standing in front of her, looking down at her with an indifferent expression on his face. He stepped inside as if nothing had happened, walking up to the window, opening it wide, pulling cigarettes and a lighter from the back pocket of his trousers.

She thought surprised that she had never met such an insolent man in her life.

She simply closed the door behind him, sitting down on her bed, leaning her back against the wall, covering her bare legs with the duvet.

He didn't look at her but out of the window, straight into the night, his face lit by the warm flame of the fire, his cigarette hissed. He took a drag of it, settling comfortably on her wide windowsill, silent for a long moment.

"Have you read Trans-Atlantyk?" He asked at last indifferently, still not looking at her while letting the smoke out with his mouth, his face turned in profile to her. She swallowed loudly, all tense, wrapping her knees with her hands.

"Yes." She replied quietly.

Silence fell between them again, broken only by the hiss of his cigarette each time he took a drag.

"What do you think about it?" He asked at last, just as matter-of-factly and dispassionately. She pressed her lips together, sleepy and tired.

"That it's his best book." She said truthfully, throwing him a depressed, exhausted look.

She didn't have the strength for this.

She just wanted to go to sleep.

"Why?" He continued, and she sighed heavily, placing her forehead on her knees.

"Because it is his response to what has been going on around him. It is his answer to all the accusations made against him. Proof that his country was not at all indifferent to him – on the contrary, although he wanted to, he could not eradicate it from his heart. He saw what was poisoning his country from within. What was destroying it and he had the courage to speak out about it.

He spoke of it with irony and contempt, but when you read into his words, there is only deep feeling and regret there, regret that his country cannot be what he would like, what he needs, what he loves. His people do not reciprocate this feeling, do not see the need to change, that everything is declining.

His feelings are complicated, but therefore true, because he shows that there are no easy answers. Out of the chaos of his thoughts there emerges some truth, some core, and although elusive, although dressed up in humour and irony that made me laugh, after reading this book I wanted to cry."

She said exactly what she felt, regardless of whether he was listening or not. She heard him hum at her words, silent for a long moment, his cigarette almost completely burnt out.

"After I first read this book I couldn't sleep. I felt anxious. As if I had suddenly entered someone's mind, heard their private thoughts and then no longer knew whether I or the author was thinking about something. I had never felt anything like that before." He said calmly, running his tongue over his lower lip, dropping his cigarette into her glass of water that stood on her desk.

She looked at him uncertainly noticing that his face was no longer so tense and aggressive – he was lying comfortably spread out, leaning his back against a wall, pulling another cigarette from his pack.

She considered his words in silence, recognising with surprise that she understood what he was talking about, that she had in fact felt the same way when she read this author's books.

"Can I sleep here with you?" He asked suddenly, and she threw him a shocked, horrified look. She watched him nonchalantly light another cigarette.

What?

"− no − I − God −" She mumbled out, burying her face in her hands, wanting to tell him that he was just terrifying her, that what he was asking was wrong in so many different ways and was putting her in a very awkward position.

She felt a certain discomfort looking at his face, feeling that it was some kind of game, that he was testing her.

"− I can sleep on the floor − I won't touch you −" He said finally looking at her, letting out a puff of smoke with a quiet hiss of his lips.

She couldn't tell what she saw in that look, dark, cold, proud.

He, however, was still sitting in the same place and still looking at her.

"I don't believe you. You want to have fun at my expense, but I don't feel like it. We've talked, now leave. Please." She said, looking bravely into his face, trying to sound as soft as possible.

She had no intention of offending him.

She just wanted him to let her alone.

"I don't love your sister." He said lightly, as if he were talking about the weather. She snorted, shaking her head.

"I don't care. She cried today because of you after she left our house. You're insolent and unpleasant, intruding on me in my own home and making me feel uncomfortable." She choked out, frustrated and angry, furrowing her brow, feeling that she was losing patience.

He, however, chuckled lowly at her words, amused, shaking the ash from his cigarette out of the window.

"She was crying? That's interesting. She didn't give a shit that you almost cried because of her at the table." He murmured, glancing at her curiously, clearly wanting to check her reaction. She pressed her lips together at his words.

"She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don't know how to dress well, don't know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there's nothing to talk to you about because you can't converse about anything interesting." He mused, taking another drag, cocking his head with curiosity.

"It's none of your business. Get out." She said dryly.

He stood up, approaching her slowly, crouching in front of her bed – he placed his elbows on her bedding, his cigarette in his mouth, which he lightly removed with his hand as he caught his balance.

She felt pain in her heart at his words and tightness in her throat, her fingers clenched on the material of her duvet, her eyebrows arching in anguish. She felt tears under her eyelids again, but she didn't want to give this bastard any satisfaction.

"Get out." She repeated coolly in a trembling voice, looking at him coldly.

"Did you tell her what she wanted to hear too, before you got bored?" She asked with derision, the corner of her mouth twitching in a mocking smile. She saw his gaze darken – he licked his lower lip involuntarily as if he recognised that he was accepting her challenge.

"But when I saw you today I understood why she said that. Because you're pretty. Because you're kind. Polite and cultured. Because you can converse about high literature, and she just doesn't understand what you're talking about. You don't have to spend hours applying make-up, wearing deep necklines and tight dresses to be naturally beautiful. To attract and intrigue. She's fucking jealous of you, little one." He hummed and she felt a shudder at the way he called her, thinking how inappropriate it was.

She pressed her body against the wall, wanting to be as far away from him and his words as possible, feeling hot, thinking that he was manipulating her.

"I didn't have to say much. She prefers to fuck, you know? To feel desired." He murmured lowly, taking another drag, looking at her expectantly, some dangerous glint in his eye.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked finally, feeling that she didn't have the strength for it, that she just wanted him to leave her alone. He grinned in a way that made her feel a shiver.

"Just so you know the problem isn't with you." He said lightly, as if it was obvious. She shook her head unable to follow his train of thought.

"Why are you with her if you despise her?" She asked, feeling that she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, her voice slightly raised and trembling.

"Because she has big tits and a big ass. Because she sucks cock well." He said calmly and she shook her head, feeling embarrassed by his words, feeling as one by one tears began to run down her cheeks.

She covered her face with her hands, feeling that it was too much for her, that they were both worthy of each other.

Why was he meddling her in their affairs?

"− hey − hey, little one −" He whispered – she felt the mattress next to her bend under his weight and she immediately jumped back, terrified, pushing him away, shaking her head.

"− no − please, no, leave −" She mumbled out, but he just put his arms around her and pressed her against his chest. She could hear his heart beating fast – he smelled of wine, cigarettes and some intense, masculine perfume.

"− please, let me go −" She wailed through her tears, but he hushed her, his free hand stroking her hair, the other holding his cigarette.

She felt him lean his back against the wall and settle into a half-lying position, drawing her with him, his large, warm hand roaming over her head and back, in some strange, irrational way making her feel comfortable.

"− cry −" He whispered quietly with some kind of understanding, as if he knew what she was going through, and although she didn't want to, she allowed herself to burst into sobs, along with her tears flowing out of her all the years she felt next to her sister like nobody.

She didn't want to come off as the jealous one, the one who couldn't enjoy other people's successes, but she understood that Alys never praised her sincerely – everything she said was the bare minimum so that no one could accuse her of being judgmental towards her.

She felt bad at the thought of sobbing in her man's embrace, cuddled up to his chest, but she couldn't help it. She didn't have the strength anymore: she just wanted to sleep, to simply rest.

"− it's okay, little one − I know −" He hummed stroking her hair with slow, tender movements, playing with her curls once in a while, smoking his cigarette, the pleasant, cool night air breezing over her warm, red cheeks.

They were both quiet, lying like that in silence, looking towards the window. She sniffed with her nose and snuggled into him, surrendering.

She thought that if he tried to rape her she would start screaming loudly to wake her family, but some subconscious feeling told her that he wouldn't do it.

That for some reason he too sought comfort in her.

"− I'm done with her, you know? − after what I saw today − after the way she spoke to you I realised that she has no respect not only for me, but even for her immediate family − I was deluding myself that she was only saying that to me because I'm a piece of shit, but I was wrong −" He murmured quietly, weariness and discouragement in his voice. She swallowed loudly, trembling in his embrace.

"You don't speak respectfully to her either." She whispered resentfully, wondering if he really thought he was blameless.

He chuckled quietly at her words – she shuddered when she felt him kiss her hair as if they had been close, as if they had known each other for years. He rested his chin on the top of her head, playing with her hair.

"− that's true − but I don't pretend to be a saint − I know what I want and I make it clear − she hides her desires behind pretty, empty words −" He grunted, stroking her head with a calm, steady motion of his hand.

For some reason what he was doing was calming her down _ she was no longer so frightened, though she still felt strange and uncomfortable.

"If you make it clear what you want, why don't you say why you came here?" She asked with a grudge, feeling pain at the thought of him toying with her and getting exactly what he wanted. He hummed, letting the smoke out through his nose.

"I already told you. I want to talk to you about Gomborowicz and sleep in the same bed with you." He murmured low, kissing her head again, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her hair.

She felt bad at the thought that for some reason it was pleasurable, that she felt a sense of satisfaction that she was now the one in bed with him and not her sister.

She shuddered when his hand slid up to her face and lifted her chin, forcing her to rise her head. She drew in a loud breath when she felt his full lips immediately pressed to hers, soft, wet and hot, his tobacco-tasting tongue invading deep into her throat making her feel throbbing between her thighs.

She pressed her hand against his sleek black jumper, ashamed and terrified that she didn't have the strength to resist him, that she was taking pleasure in the way his fingers stroked her cheek gently as their tongues met and licked with a loud, lewd clicks, slick and sticky from their saliva, his cigarette slowly burning out in his other hand.

She wasn't sure she'd ever been so terrified and aroused at the same time, her heart pounding like mad. She felt her moisture between her thighs, so she clenched her legs tightly to relieve herself any way she could.

She knew he felt it – his hand slid from her face down her back to her buttocks and slipped from behind between her thighs, his fingers pressed against the material of her shorts, rubbing her there in sure, slow, circular motions.

"No." She mumbled and pulled away from him, terrified, feeling that this had gone too far, that she couldn't do this, that she wouldn't let him take advantage so that he could then laugh in Alys face with the satisfaction that her little sister had welcomed him between her thighs with joy.

They stared at each other with eyes wide open, breathing embarrassingly loudly.

"Come here."

"Please, get out."

"Come."

She felt her heart pounding hard, knowing that they were now fighting each other for dominance, for who would have the last word, who would give in.

"If you don't leave, I'm going to get up and wake my parents saying that you came to my room in the middle of the night and you won't leave me alone." She said dryly. He pressed his lips together feeling that her words were final, that she wasn't joking.

"You don't want me to leave." He whispered lowly pressing his lips together, breathing unevenly, his cigarette extinguished.

She swallowed loudly involuntarily glancing down and felt a shudder as she saw the bulge in his trousers.

He was hard.

She shook her head feeling her tears gather in the corners of her eyes again.

"I can't, I'm sorry, it was a mistake. I don't want to do it, not like this, it's wrong. Fuck!" She cursed, knowing it had gone too far anyway, burying her face in her hands, heartbroken that she could have done such a thing to her own sister.

She heard him rose lazily, dropping his second cigarette into her glass of water. He looked at her over his shoulder in a way that made her feel a tightness in her throat.

"I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to hurt you. Really." He said lowly with some kind of pain and just walked out, leaving her alone at last.

She collapsed on her bed, covering herself with her duvet up to her head, wanting to hide, to disappear, to sink into the ground.

She couldn't believe how close it was.

How close it was for them to fuck.

She cried her eyes out terrified that she felt tension between her thighs, that she was aroused.

That some part of her wanted him to come back and finish what he had started.

She was awakened in the morning by the loud slam of the front door of her house. She got up quickly, walking over to her open window, looking out of it into the driveway.

She saw him open his car door and give her one last look, as if he hoped he would see her there. She felt a strange tightening in her heart and pain, burning tears under her eyelids.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him – after a moment she heard the muffled sound of music and the whirr of an engine.

She watched with a blank stare as he drove away and disappeared around the corner, pressing her forehead against the frame of the window, feeling a river of tears begin to run down her cheeks.

She wiped her face with her hands, heartbroken that this man had brought her to such a state in one evening, and turned away, wanting to return to her bed.

I wish I had met you before her.

She froze, spotting something white on the floor beneath her door. After a moment, she noticed that it was a folded piece of paper and she walked over to it quickly, picking it up from the floor and opened it. There was only one sentence written inside.

Aemond Taglist:

_____

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

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navsink · 3 months ago

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countryboy! Sukuna x citygirl! reader pt1

tags: au! ofc, fluff, slight toxicity, love bombing, mutual pining, slightly suggestive, wholesome family, happy family, sukuna is evil, hurt/comfort, COMFORT, mommy/daddy issues gang, perfect family. wc:3,591 words synopsis: after a trip to the country side cabins, there's a horseshow going on, a must attend on your list. meet sukuna as a cowboy and have him teach you how to RIDE.

The dinner table was full of yummy desserts, wine glasses and most deliciously cinnabun rolls. Our evening dinner was one of celebration, you could see it in everyone's faces, the way their eyes were all wrinkled at the corners and their cheeks full of sweet cinnamon and honey. Everyone was just so happy to celebrate my mom's latest success, an ascension to being on the magazine for women CEO of 2024. As we were close to finishing our meal of the night, my dad finally spoke with a grin in his face. I could see my mom's notorious blush and my sister's little grin of mischief as she darted a cherry at my dad's pudding cup.

"Everyone, attention," my dad attempted to clink his glass of wine with a silver fork, immideatly causing my mom to tug at his elbow whispering a shy 'Don't'.

"ATTENTIOOOON." he yelled this time, a bit louder to compensate for the lack of glass to clink. A placid yet drunk smile formed on his face, whilst mom's was just purely fluster.

"There are no- Hiccup- words to describe the proud husband I have become. I am the husband of the woman CEO of the year, what else should I ask for? To celebrate this, we four will all go to the countryside to relax and rent a cabin, bring your bathing suits ladies and most importantly repelent. I want this special 3 day vacation just to celebrate my incredible wife's achievment." we all clapped at my dad's half drunk speech, the sweet smile lines and crows feet multiplied by the inmense smile he spoke with was the sweetest thing I have seen. We all cheered for this short trip, nothing could make us all happier than a small break.

That same night I grabbed my black totebag and tossed in a couple shorts, underwear and most importantly a one piece bathing suit. Happy as I was, to see my parent's marriage be the standard I should aim for, I tossed in a makeup bag and a hairbrush and I was set. I giggled and looked at my ceiling as I plopped down on the bed. My life has never been better has it?

As excited as I was, sleep and sending an excuse of absence to my university were the first step to take if I wanted to join everyone on the trip. I quickly jotted down a quick excuse and pressed send.

"Have you packed everything? Remember to bring at least a pair of jeans if you want to ride the horses at the ranch." My mom peeked her head out of the doorway and looked at me with a grin.

"Yeah I have, don't worry I'll put one on as we leave."

"You better, you don't want to know the rashes you'll get from those stable horses."

"Yeah yeah, thanks ma"

I nodded and walked towards the door, kissing her cheek goodnight, and a tight yet quick hug.

"I'm proud of you ma"

"I could say the same for you bebe"

A quick peck on the forehead landed on me as I waved at her good night from my hallway. We had always been a close family and honestly, I hope it stays that way.

---

"Bebe are you up already?" my mom's voice chided from the other side of the door as I pulled a pillow to my face. I had a hard time getting any sleep yesterday, I was too excited putting on possible outfits and even a nice set of lingerie. Who knows what could happen at the cabins?

I chuckled thinking of my late night antics and finally sat up, a groggy mess and a bird's nest in my hair rose up as I look for my phone.

"I'm up." I yell to the other side of the door, earning a quick inaudible affirmation.

Upon instinct, my feet pull me out of bed and lead me to the small bathroom next to my bedroom.

Finishing up my morning routine, caking up a couple layers of makeup and finally scooping my boobs to look nice in a fitted cleavage top. I was all set to leave. Let's see, last nights totebag, jeans, they said to bring sunscreen right? yeah. Probs. What else? Right a hair brush and the swimsuit. As I finished listing off every possible thing I could need there I started to take a couple of selfies while I waited for my dad's classic holler to meet my family at the living room.

Soon came a "WE'RE LEAVING." trademarked holler from my dad, who pretty much lied as he sat on the barstool next to the kitchen isle drinking cofffee and biscuits.

"Careful with that one Pinocchio, your snoring is worsening as you speak." My mom scoffed as she dragged a luggage in a haste, a drop of sweat threatening to ruin her laminated brows.

As I also enter the living room in a haste, I hunch over as I see how calmly he's sipping coffee like it's no body's business.

"Living with 3 women has taught me patience, believe me. I have to speed things up or else I'll be the one you women blame when we're late to our check in." He chortled as he lifted his pinkie finger and extended his lips to reach the coffee cup.

A short sigh is escaped by my mom and I as we sit down on the couches, waiting for my sister is going to be eternal. As my dad said, it's good to keep a few tricks to pick up the pace with us. My mouth opens, trying to think of what to say to my sister who's making us all be late.

"LILY, I CALL SHOTGUN" My mom yelled as she pinched my arm, a sign to shut up and let her handle it. I quickly rub my arm with a scoff, trying to discreetly roll my eyes.

As effective as that was, my sister stormed through the halls carrying two totebags and a backpack. A smiled tugged at the corners of my mouth as my Dad, who now waited against the main door, tapped his foot impatiently.

"So, where are we going really?" I asked from the car's backseat.

"To hell bebe." My mom scoffed absentmindedly as she once more won her match of solitaire.

"Seriously, where?" A whine escaped my mouth, like a child's impatience.

"It's a surprsie-- oh and connect your spotify, we're getting bored of the same three songs your sister has playing." Mom's aloof comment had earned an annoyed protest from my sister. "Don't argue while you're at it."

It was going to be a long car ride trip, so might as well just do as she says and stand Lily for as long as I can. To preface, my sister and I don't typically bicker, as we are just used to ignoring eachother's presence, but sometimes she does gets on my nerves. Who's up to standing a whiny and angsty 14 year old for more than an hour? Not me.

This was a sign to just nap the whole carride out, head peacefuly rested against the window, a nice little nap was just what I needed.

Eventually we had reached the point of the ride where everyone is quiet and the two front passangers are just at it gossiping and talking about life in general. That is my favorite ever part of it.

"Right, she thinks that because I am succesful she can just cling to my name and try to force people into giving her a job with no history of ever moving a finger." My mom's voice casually whispered as they started gossiping about family members. It just happens sometimes.

"Hold that thought Marina, pull up the Maps for this section, the fog ahead is pretty harsh." my dad mumbled back as he leaned forward in his seat while grabbing the steering wheel with white knuckles.

My parents argued quietly with the poor google maps assistant, cautiously trying not to wake us up. As we finally reached to a stop, my dad sighed and took a sip of his trusty leather flask, and with a 'pop' his lips smacked and his throat roared.

"Girls, we're here, get your stuff-- we're unpacking as they show us our room." My mom reached towards the backseat and grabbed my sister and I's knees shaking them against eachother to wake us up fully.

Fast forward to our very own cabin, the guide opens the door for us and lets us in.

"Two beds?" I sigh. It seems there were no other options unless I prefered to sleep in the car. The cabin was nice, it had A/C and a nice bathroom. It was pretty pintoresque and quaint, just how I like it, to the exception of course, of sharing a bed with my sister. The two white queen beds had a nice matress and were free of any bugs thankfully. Other than that, there wasn't much more to note of this farm cabins we booked.

"Yes Bebe, two beds. We're all gonna die because you have ot sleep next to Lily for two nights, wa, wa." My dad mocked my tone playfully and as I shoot a bored look at him he comes to my side and pinches my ribs.

"Stop that!" I giggled and hugged my dad with a fake annoyed look. It wasn't so bad really, it was just for two nights, nothing could really make it that bad.

We set down our things inside the cabin and started to set up our clothes down for the next day, since the fog had really made the trip a little hard for my dad we decided to wait an hour before we got out. It had already been 5pm since we arrived and as the cabin staff said, we had until 7pm to get our dinner served and until 9pm to use the pool. This place seemed neat. I could just lay on the bed until 7, sleep was never enough for me. I positioned my head softly against the mattress, half lidded eyes and soon fast asleep into my 2nd nap of the day.

"Shh shh, you're gonna wake her up." I heard a couple of mumbling and whistling as I finally awoke from slumber. My family opened the door with less than caution as they turned on the lights and sat down on the free bed.

My groggy eyes had finally answered to the light as I rub them and sit up. A more than perplexed face formed as my stitched brows and pursed lips turn to look at my traitor family.

"You guys didn't wake me up?" I croaked, holding my head with my right hand and propping myslef up with the other.

"You seemed passed out, so we decided to dine and wait for you to get inside the pool, it's pretty tempered." Lily mentioned stifling a giggle as she crossed her legs with a smirk.

"Keep your enemies close and your family closer." I mumble as I drown my face into the soft cushion pillow. My dad let out an audible chuckle, and soon a cough as my mom elbows him to the gut.

"Don't fret, we have all tomorrow to spend together, we can also go to the pool right now, we have 2 more hours left until they bleach it." My mom soothingly patted my back as she sits down next to me. A small kiss lands on my temple when she pulls me into an embrace.

"Fine, I'll go." My mom cheered and dragged my wrist to the main entrance. Soon followed my sister and my lucidly drunk dad.

The pool was fine, really nothing special, according to the cabin staff, there's a bunch of recreational going on tomorrow. There's a horse show, boat tour around the lake, cow milking and finally an opportunity to just walk around the farm state altoghter on a horse.

Being the horsegirl to the core type of girl, I of course tried getting my parents to join me on the horse related ones. Aaaand like every other functional family we started arguing, my sister wanted the water ones, mom wanted sun bathing and I the land ones.

"We're not doing the boat tour, have you heard that one news article of the whole 15 passenger boat that sank to the bottom last week nearby?" My dad slammed his fist against the table as we sat in the farm's restaurant. His stitched brows and red eyes indicated that there was no persuading on this one, his heart and mind were set on not letting anyone on a boat.

"But dad!" My sister whined as she dropped her fork.

"No buts." His face turned to the other side, indignant at my sister's persistence.

"We're also not doing horses, we just ate, what kind of brain process thinks that you're not about to barf on the horse lackey and yourself as you get on the horse? I say no." My mom commanded, putting a muffin on my dad's plate. Two set of wide eyes smiled as the big 1000 calorie blueberry muffin landed and soon crumbled against the hands of an italian dad.

I let out an audible groan as she turned down my activity too, facing my sister with joined mischief we nod to each other with a grin.

"Ma, she's poking me." I whined

"Pa she's the one poking me." Lily cried.

"If she doesn't stop I swear I'll stab her with a fork."

"Keep poking me idiot."

"Ma- Did you just hear that? She called me an idiot." I groaned as I turn to my mom's concerned face, and consecuently my sister does too.

"Pa did you see how she threatened me? She has a fork in her hand." Lily's fake tears were starting to roll, which in turn caused my dad to fret and look at my mom for any hint on what to do. It was working.

Lily and I hid a smirk behind the facade of two annoyed sisters, and soon my parent's strong will dissolved. Lily was about to open her mouth as my mom slammed her hand against the table.

"Fine if you two little insects shut up, we can plan out the day." She whisper yelled at us and finally leaned back into her chair, I could see the vein and even the botox fight against eachother.

"We're not doing the boat, but we are going to watch the cows be milked, then we're going to the pool and we'll watch the horse show, after that we're doing the horse tour around the property and finally we're going fishing. That's today's plan, whoever tries to change it is a dead man." My mom leaned forward and looked at both of us in the eye, how she didnt go crossed eye who knows, but at least my sister and I got what we wanted.

We were running a bit late for the horse show, curtsey of Lily as she tried feeding bread to the ducks after being told not to over 4 times by the farmers. We miraculously acquired front row seats, pretty neatly for the four of us, I dusted off the seat and with a grin sat down. This decision will follow up to be a pretty bad one, as I could smell the horse shit the best from the front row seats, wow, so that's why there was so much space down here. I also couldn't see jack shit from here as the picket fence just had to block my view for the most part.

I sighed and slouched over the seat, trying to ignore the petulant smell coming from beautifuly bred horses. As soon as what seemed the second act started, I could see a guy, pretty much my age with a black cotton button up, snug skinny black jeans and a brown metal belt. God was that a sight for sore eyes, swimming in a pool of manure the most handsomest blonde of them all. A dumb smile plastered on my face as I straighten my back and eyes follow like a hungry lion the zebra like prey.

As he gets on the white horse and another lackey throws a black cowboy hat at him that he so perfectly catches with his pale big veiny hand. On the topic of hands, my mom's hand picks up my jaw from the floor and turns my face towards her.

"Don't chase, be chased." wise words from my CEO beautiful mama, her slight smile and smooth brows gave me the 'go ahead' to keep on daydreaming.

This guy was out of the ordinary.

The white stallion I might add starts to dance and trot so perfectly, like the horse just did it out of a whim. Wisely enough the gorgeous hunk of a horseman also grins and flashes a pearly white to the audience. A collective "AAAH" from the female audience is heard across the bleachers.

Long legs, strong arms, chiseled jawline. He had it all.

Man when I tell you I crossed my legs, not out of habit but out of NEED. My whole uterus cried out, especially now that I was caught in ovulation week. I let out a dreamy sigh, once more as this man kept on making his spins and tricks for the audience.

Tragically, it seemed his showtime was about to conclude, but a man as wise as him knows how to garner and cater for the thirsty souls. As he proceeds to rip out his shirt like some attention starved whore, revealing a rock hard abdodmen and straight airstrip direct to heaven.

God this man had to have a lot of women after him after the shows. I let out a nervous string of laughter as he waved off goodby to the audience.

My mom tossed her hand fan into my hand as my head kept on spinning for this DREAM of a man. A small unappreciative sigh followed as the cute guy left the manure field, as he leaves a black bull enters with another HUNK of a man. Is judgement day here yet? It might just strike me here and now.

This other guy, wearing full white attire and blonde hair seemed to be the previous guy, but with a twist. The whole audience went ballistic for him. I could swear my body was not taking any more hot guys in my line of sight anymore, who knew countryside boys were so fucking hot? For one I did not fucking know until now.

This guy's ability to just jump the bull and keep on making the bull follow him around was amazing. The whole show I was on the edge of my seat, finally assimilating the petulant manure smell into my nostrils. It was amazing watching the guy just run after the bull, and making a whole skit of almost being stomped by it. Even recalling it now is making my breath shorten. Everyone laughed at his antics, it was like those old movies where no one could speak, and it was just laughs on the other end. God it was an amazing show.

The whole gig went exactly as the first one, rock hard abs, a killer v line, pretty face, and even prettier smiles. There is no way these guys have ZERO girls after them or throwing themselves at them. Is there?

Eye candy is just that, eye candy, no more. I wasn't about to bag some hot country boy, even worse A FUCKING COWBOY?

...could-I?

Lunch went amazingly fast as my sister wanted to get on the horse as fast as possible, not out of genuine interest for horses, but wanting to get to the water as fast as possible. I kept on smirking here and there remebering those stupid cowboys that just had to look so perfectly hot. As we finally reached the stables the lackeys were mentioning that we had to wisely choose the horse, and just small talk general. Of course, I had other things on my mind so naturally my two parents just kept on talking killing time.

My eyes though, lazily scanned the barns and looked at three guys in the distance just taking discrete sips of beer as they hauled hay into the cow pen. On a second thought, pretty attractive guys worked here, is this the farm's marketing tactic to get the customers to spend more days and money here? Fuck it's working.

"Bebe," The fact that they don't look the same, they just have nice bodies but fucking attractive faces, for example this guy that I'm looking at ri-"Bebe." Right now has a chiseled face, with small round glasses, also blonde and fuck does he know how to haul a hay b-"Y/N"

"Fuck!" I jolt in place, shooting my head to the direction of the voice.

"Language lady, god. Pick your horse." My mom groaned as she pinched my rib in annoyance, her stride, confident while walking towards a gray medium sized horse.

"Shoot, sorry, right. Uh." I scanned the pen, from a black and white spotted stallion to a shiny auburn horse. "I'll take the brown horse."

The lackey nodded and holded the reigns to his coworker, who also prepared the seat for you. As they finished tying everything up, your uninterested dad gives you a hand to get on the horse.

"Thanks." I murmured.

The ride around the property was gorgeous, as our horses followed a pearly white one ridden by the tour guide I scanned the whole place. It was such a gorgeous greenery that would make anyone want to become countryside. The lush green vines and bushes, the enourmously diverse butterflies that fluttered around the place, and even better the free range cows that pastured across the fence. It was all such a beautiful sight.

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simp-ly-writes · 9 months ago

Text

Friend of the Captain (pt.3)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Reader

Summary: Fate keeps pulling its strings, but your's and Eddies appear to be drifting further and further apart- only to see one another at weddings or funerals. But maybe one day, luck will be in your side and then something beautiful can flourish (with a side of cash, of course).

Warnings: 5000~ words, language and light teasing, angst (emotional, alcohol and drug usage, dark thoughts) to fluff, jealousy, and pining (of course).

A/N: Apologies for the wait everyone! A few timings changed but I need plot- okay.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | somewhat un-edited.

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ "...you're the best friend I could have ever asked for," your words stung, shattering Eddie's heart beyond repair as his face twitched before hiding it in your palm. He made a promise as a child, to always have you in his life yet even as you got closer together, the more he realized how far apart your both were as that moment became a mere distant memory. Eddie was needy for more yet you had already packed up your bags, closed the estate for the summer and went off to find new inspiration worldwide.

↳ He ended up reading a few of the gossip articles his mother left on the coffee table one morning, hot pink, zoomed in features and question marks galore as you walked around in beach wear with another man on your arm. He gripped the magazine, throwing it back on the table before packing his bags and returning back to base.

↳ When Christmas came around once again, you were not at the estate- a newfound tradition it seemed yet your gifts were still left under the tree, perfectly wrapped with each Horniman getting a gift. Eddie looked at the professionally wrapped gift, chuckling to himself at the childish wrapping paper you always insisted on using. This Christmas it was a bunch of little green cars with elf's behind the wheel.

Tearing into the gift, Eddie pauses as he slowly turns the box open to find a custom engraved watch. Flipping it backwards, his finger traces over the engraving- "Always." His mother peers over his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear as she inspects the jewelry. "I'm jealous, Edward," she teases, as Charlotte mockingly coo's- loving as her brother's cheeks paint themselves a pinkish hue. Freddy is already drowning himself in the new bottle of liquor your most recent boyfriend was the owner of its production before Tammy demands her own fair share of the drink.

↳ More years had passed and it was September already. You had yet to go back to dating, stepping away from romance scene at the current news that rocked your world, sending you crashing towards the floor as you fell into your office chair. Gripping your hair, tears streamed endlessly from your eyes as one of your assistants rapidly books the private jet back home to England- both of your parents were just announced dead to the public before you had known privately.

They were on a charity meeting with local schools and had crashed in their helicopter- dying instantly. You felt sick, seeing their bodies broadcasted over live television, smoke exiting from the aircraft as you lunged towards the toilets and threw up your lunch. "The plane has been booked, ma'am," your assistant calls from behind the door as you dress in full black and head towards the airstrip.

↳ You were surprised to find a series of reporters already waiting for you on the runway. Putting on your newest mock-design of sunglasses- it was going to be your first break into another market. Lights flashed in your face, hands racing to pull you into their microphones and endless questions yet the airport staff were not trained for a mob of this size.

They bursted through, making you fall towards the ground as you curled up into a ball- doing your best to avoid being trampled further. You quickly worked your hands through your pockets, clicking the power button thrice in quick succession as your first emergency contact was called and before you knew it- Freddy and Tammy were bursting through the crowd, fists raised as reporters fled the scene.

They were dressed in head to toe in black, ready to take you back towards your family's estate and to the funeral. You stood at the front, head tipped low as your flowing black dress drifted in the crisp cold air. It clung to your bones, finding any skin you had yet to hide as you silently cried, head leaning towards Charlottes already waiting presence as she whispered her condolences to you before pulling away.

You blinked rapidly, doing your best to dry your cheeks as a warm body at your back had you raising an eyebrow, especially when their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a strong hug as your skin became tickled by their stubble. "I came as soon as I could," Eddie spoke over the wind, watching as everyone started making their way towards their cars as light rainfall began to come down.

You turned yourself around in his arms, cries turning into laughter as you shook your head into his shoulder, hands gripping the fabric of his suit, threatening to tear it apart just as you forced yourselves apart. You shook your head, taking another step back as you continued to laugh, Eddie took a large stride forward, head lowering in worry- trying to catch your eyes as your hair began to fall over your face. Taking a sharp sniffle you spoke in even tones, "We only see each other at weddings or funerals, Edward."

"Darling I-" you hold up a hand, shaking your head once more as you take another step back, Eddie moves forward as you dance around one another, rain falling heavier as you walk yourself under a tree canopy. "I made a promise to my father years ago, he wanted me to stop talking with you- begged me on his deathbed that I was unknowing of recently. I made a compromise of being friends yet... If these are the times we find each... Edward I-"

"Please, don't call me Edward," Eddie cuts you off, heart racing as he processes the information you speak. I always knew that old man hated me from the start, business over pleasure any day of the week, Eddie thought to himself. Hands now grasping your shaking shoulders as you can't support yourself with the overwhelming grief- falling forward into his arms. "Eddie," you whisper out in a pleading tone yet unknowing of what you wanted.

Before you both could think further on the subject, your lawyers were demanding of your presence to sign the papers, as the only child of your parents. You were the Duchess of the estate now as the endless sea of documents and hearings suggested. And those small hugs and words sat still underneath that tree, rooted in place as Eddie got called back to work and in the trauma of it all, you were glad everyone left- wanted everyone to leave you alone.

The cameras everywhere started to become too much, the people constantly checking in- tip-toeing around you, as if you would break with their soft tones and bittersweet, pity-filled smiles that mocked the constant aching of your heart and mind. Articles floated around, showing old pictures, telling the world of how you were living the high life with dead money but you had money, you had fame, before this all and now, you wanted to escape it all.

↳ That man you were with was an old picture, that boat party was in early spring and that engagement ring was false news as you threw your phone across the room as it shattered against the tiles. In reality you were sat in your bathtub, barley breathing above the water. You have been feeling an overwhelming numbness in your present and soon enough, you were pulling at everything to just FEEL something these days.

Looking down at your hand, the family crest engraved ring upon your finger sat heavy as you came to realize what such titles costed. Someone was yelling your name from the other side of the door, pounding against the heavy wood as you sunk under, watching the bubbles of your breath break the surface of the water above.

You close your eyes, emptying your lungs before coming back up to the surface and clearing the hair from your eyes. You drain the tub, wet feet pattering against the marble floors and towards the vanity- your gear already waiting for you as you got strapped in and flung the door open.

↳ Determine to FEEL you tested drugs, tested alcohol but they both lost their kick. You tried sleeping around again yet could never get off, so you drove down country streets as fast as you could, jumped out of planes, flung yourself off cliffs and climbed up mountains.

↳ Your business was running in the background as you let it run itself. You sent all the staff home for the remainder of the year with their wages at the estate as you walked the line between fear and adrenaline.

↳ Sabrina had called you after receiving news of you being in the hospital. You had fractured your shoulder from a skiing incident, you smiled through the drugs, holding a thumbs up for the picture as she cried at the image. You looked so lifeless with those eyes, your skin appearing grey as a walking corpse yet you could care less. People still wanted to sleep with you, to "live that high life" and you allowed them to just as every paper told you to.

↳ What surprised you was seeing Freddy out of all people telling you off by your bedside. Tammy nowhere to be seen as he gripped your hand- pleading. You look at him blankly in the eyes, almost falling asleep to what you have heard a thousand times before. Yet there is one question that catches you off guard, your neck straining as you quickly look away to hide the tears beginning to stream down your face.

"W-What would Eddie think of you right now? He's off somewhere, probably getting shot at- thinkin' that his job was ensuringhis girl is safe at home. What a fuckin' joke (name), if you are gonna listen to anything I say, know that you are a joke- and thats coming from the definition of it."

You shake your head, now playing with the various cords in your hands, threatening to rip them out as you choke back a sob. "I'm sorry, Freddy, I'm so sorry for being such a fuckin' mess," you sputter between your lips, taking shallow breaths as your heart monitor rapidly beeps, nurses running into the room as Freddy stands up from his seat as positions himself at the foot of your bed.

"Yeah, well saying you are is a great step, now make something of it because I can't deal with all these crying people. Fathers health is gone- I think this is it..."

↳ Under a year later, Eddies father had passed. You remember never driving more of a wildly than then down the country roads, almost clipping a gate in the process as you opened the door with your own key. Staggering into the new dukes office and sitting by the fire once more as you held his head in your lap, he clenched onto your waist- crying before a knock at the door had him switching back off, hardened exterior as if nothing happened.

↳ You stood up quickly, brushing off your clothes and nodded to him with pained eyes and shaking hands. Your heart burned, wanting to help yet the hollowed look he sent you with the tip of his head was enough to have you swiftly out the door and here you were, dressed in black again as Eddie stood beside you, face hardened while carrying his father to the hole in the ground and while making no move to touch you. You stepped a bit closer to his side once seeing the woman from across the fence looking intently at you both, please make it not be another reporter.

↳ Eddie folded, wrapping an arm around your torso as he pulled you under his long coat- thinking you to be cold as you gripped his hip, turning your head away from their stares and whispered a prayer, setting your bundle of flowers against the grave as Eddie make his own remarks. You both going inside the home.

↳ Sabrina openly sobbed into your shoulder, this is the first time she had seen you since your most recent accident as she whispered in your ear, albeit a bit loudly- perhaps on purpose as Eddie's head snapped over to the both of you- pausing his conversation with Tammy. "I am so thankful that you are alive."

"Why wouldn't they be, mother?" Edward questions, looking between you both with the most remorse he has shown today. Your eyes snap down to his wrist as he plays with the watch you gifted him a few holidays ago. "I don't think this is my thing to speak about, Edward." And with that, she picks up her drink and strides over to the table as the lawyer stands, emptying various files from their brief case to the table.

Memories flash through your minds before Eddie holds your hand, you intertwine your fingers together, giving it a light swing while being unable to look at him in the eyes as you play with the ring on his finger. "I lost myself, Eddie. I-I'm still a bit lost really... I'm getting better- promise just, I fucked up."

"Hey, look at me, darling, look at me, (name)," Edward calls out to you, using his other hand to pick up your chin as you blink away tears. He presses a kiss to your forehead, using a soft tone, "and we will find you again, promise."

↳ Eddie was later pulled away from you as you made your silent escape and exited the room, Eddie becoming drowned in those all-too-familiar papers. You were un-noticing to Sabrinas thoughtful look as you exited the house just as fate would have it for the two of you, so close yet ever-so far.

Geoff was already standing by the front door, tipping his hat towards you as you playfully bowed back- engine roaring back to life as he knocked on your window. Rolling it down with a charming smile, "Everythin' alright Geoff?"

"Yes, my Lady. Just curious- you're not stayin'?"

"Oh... no... I think... never mind," you stutter, smile fluttering as he hums out in reply. "We hope to see you around more often your grace, mother misses you like her own," you nod politely, "I will do my best to then," you state before rolling back up your window and rolling out back down those country roads.

↳ That day Edward Horniman was established as the Duke of Halstead. The news once again meeting your phone screen rather than the word of those close to you.

↳ You wish you could say that you saw one another right after that, but after you made a spontaneous visit to the Halstead manor. The staff members look panicked as they speedily greeted you and tried to move you towards the seating room as you shook them off. Placing your bags by the door before walking further down the hall and towards the office. You looked through the french doors, heart dropping as that woman you had seen earlier flashed Eddie a charming grin.

Sabrina clapped her hands joyfully at whatever had been said as childish jealousy ran rampant in your chest. You glared at the woman, her face tilted away from yours, everyone unknowing of your presence before you walked calmly back down the hall. Picking up your bags with your head held high, the various staff members chased after you, "How about you stay for tea miss? Oh, I'm sure the Duke will be overjoyed to have you stay, Could I bring you bags upstairs for you?"

You sent everyone a small sad smile, their heads dropping down as they silently understood your decision. You dropped your bags back into the boot of your car, slamming the door close as you drove back down the gravel roads. Luna chasing after your car with a wagging tail.

Edwards meeting had finished as he dismissed everyone from the room, standing while taking a sip of his tea- his heart lunged forwards at the sight of your car driving away. He hastily placed his drink down, running down the stairs as his mother called out to him, warning him of the cold weather that morning yet as he opened the door, he could no longer see your car and that door shut just as quickly.

↳ You would try again to see Eddie, yet that woman was always seen right beside him. There was some dark part of you that hoped Eddie would never go back to dating, that you could be selfish yet it would be unfair as you had done your fair share of it. Unknowing to the pain Eddie kept to himself seeing you so happy with someone else. It seemed to him the only times he ever got to see you was when it rained and rained it did.

↳ You took a ride around the estate, really both of your estates since no formal fences were placed. You strode over the overside of the pond, eyes squinted at the sight of the woman once more falling in step with Eddie as Luna raced between their feet. You continued your ride, looking up to the grey gloomy skies with distaste and the next moment you looked back across, they all were gone - if just by your imagination.

↳ You were dressed to the nines, a flowing emerald gown drifting off each curve of your body, emphasizing your natural features as you swirled around the crowds of hungry business men and jealous wives as you picked up a champagne glass from a walking tray and returned to Mr. Johnston's side.

↳ A hand written and delivered invitation graced your doorstep, too tempting to refuse- it had been sometime since you last stepped into the spotlight and done yourself up, and so you went all out. You showcased your newest jewellery line- finally finding more inspiration the more times you reminisced around your inherited property.

↳ A rather bizarre relationship you held with Mr. Johnston as well, as he had tried to purchase your land yet smiled and waved away his deal like a fleeting thought. Mr. Johnston have given you many expensive gifts since them to keep your company with him- adoring your intelligence in everything accessory or business related as you reviewed materials for him as a side-gig and token of friendship

↳ You swayed lightly to the music as he introduced to you hundreds of faces, beyond impressed that me managed to remember the names and family connections of them all. You smiled politely, kissing cheeks and making small talk before being led to the next person, ignoring the stares as they watched you from behind- gown drifting away with you.

↳ Much to your surprise, you were being introduced to the Duke of Halstead himself yet for once you were not most interested in Eddie but the woman that stood ever-so elegantly by his side.

"Susie Glass, its an honour your grace," she said politely, red lipstick curving up into a small smile as you shook hands lightly, swiftly dropping your connection before Eddie picked up your hand, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of it. You both maintained eye-contact as he did so, never wavering before Johnston coughed, and you tipped your head down, a smile fighting against your lips as did Eddies.

With your gaze down, you ignored the rather pushing tones of both parties, focused on the small red liquid, is that blood?, starting to form at the edge of Eddie's shirt. You shifted your weight to stand closer to him, starting to open your mouth to question before Mr. Johnston was calling your name.

"You never told me, duchess that you and the duke had grown up together, what a wonderful sight to see two friends reconnecting. If you will Ms. Glass, I think we should allow them so time to reunite," Johnston comments, eyeing the closing distance between yours and Eddies forms as you blink a thanks to him as he leads Susie towards the bar.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, your grace?" you tease out, hands drifting up his chest to fix his jacket. You hold him there as his eyes quickly flash down to your lips and back up towards your eyes. Your head tilting, well that has changed....

"Can I not admire the dress? It has been some time since we have last seen each other like this. What was it, when we were 20-something?" You instantly remember that night, cheeks a hard red as you blindly follow Eddie down the hall and into an empty room, the door clicks locked as you become lost in the memory.

Eddie had pushed you up against a wall, the paintings swinging almost off their nails as your own scraped against his roots, ensuring that yours lips stayed on one another in a passionate kiss. The shoulder of your dress began to fall as did Eddie's lips, trailing down your chin, to your throat where he sucked a bruise as you softly moaned in his ear.

It was so wrong, you had a boyfriend waiting for you back at university, it was your childhood best friend- the one you promised your father never to be with and yet as he picked you up, hands feeling up your dress and pushed you onto a bed. It never felt so right.

Eddie climbed on top of you, smashing his lips onto your own once more as you whimpered and moaned as he chuckled, shushing you lighting before continuing his attack. You began to unbuttoned his shirt. Nails working down his abs as you smirked to the sound of his breath hitching as you created your own markings to his neck.

Nothing more ever came from your heated make-out sessions or hook-ups. Always resulting in being, "good friends" with one another who needed help...

"Everything alright there, darling?" Eddies baritone voice pulled you out of the memory as you his chest pressed flat against your bare back where your dress dripped. His hands on your hips, his head on your shoulder as you both swayed back and forth lightly.

You pick your hand up, placing it on top of his hands on your waist, circling around each bloody knuckle with concern. "What have you not been telling me, Eddie?" that you love me, your brain pleads to finish for him yet you hold your tongue, bitting your lip from saying anything more.

Eddie hums deeply into your ear as goosebumps coat over your skin, gods you feel like such a horny teenager. But to be fair, that would be the last time you were romantically involved. "I think I will need a few more drinks before I become an open book but, I have been busy in managing my fathers... businesses."

You step away from his touch, gathering distance, eyes firm, "I know what your family does, Edward. Longer than you apparently. I believe it to be the reason why my father never wanted me settling with someone like you-"

"Someone like me?" Eddie challenges. "Do you even have the faintest idea of what Mr. Johnston has done, what your previous boyfriends have done?-"

"Yes, I do. And that should make you understand why I still decide to come back to you, after everything," you finish with, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs by an unlit fireplace as Eddie stands in front of you, undoing his jacket with a hiss as you tut him off in a posh tone.

"Why, Edward-dear, it appears you are the one learning new ideas, would you like some help with that?" You tease out, watching as his shirt turns a deeper red. Edwards rolls his eyes playfully at you as you drink up the sight of this beautiful man, even when bleeding and threatening to stain the designer rug underneath you both.

You kneel lean forward, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as Eddie un-do's his bowtie, it hangs off his shoulders as you dress the wound with the supplies sat conveniently waiting on a nearby shelf. "Arms up now, captain," you playfully command as Eddie complies.

"Never knew you to be such a bossy one," Edward sarcastically comments, looking down at the top of your head fondly. You look up at him through your lashes, blinking twice before continuing your work. "And I never knew you to be bedding your associates-"

A knock at the door sounds as Eddies delicate look before a glare, enforcing that you both would speak about the topic later as you wipe your hands and lean back in the chair, smiling at the women as Eddie leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek in thanks as he straightens his clothes out.

"Hello, Susan," the Duke greets the once mysterious lady as you look between the two of them, jealousy brewing in your stomach once more, your hands itching to hold on to some part of Eddie once more. "What have you done to him, duchess?" Susie asks you, hands presses and leaning forwards against the back of a chair opposite of yours.

You smile gracefully at the woman, beginning to stand yet as you approach her, Eddie softly grasps your wrist, holding you in place. "Well, by the looks of it. He has been shot- what have you been doing with him, Susie?" you fire back.

"Nothing-"

"Really then?" you cut her off with a scoff as you wiggle your hand from Eddies grasp, moving towards the door, you can hear multiple people moving in the hallway as you curse out, your dress spotted with blood. "Alright then, I think it's time for a sharing circle then..."

"You killed a man?" you ask calmly as Eddie slowly nods his head. "That was something I did- yes-"

"and by the sounds of it, it will not be your last... or hers..." you reply, head leaned into your hand as you found yourself seated once more. The party-goers were dying by the hour as you all soon made your speedy walks back towards your cars.

You joined Eddie that night, helping to redress the wound, dress him for the night, pouring you both another few drinks before pulling him into bed. What surprised you most was his tight grip on your waist as he pulled you down beside him. "Eddie I am not dressed for bed," you spoke softly, not wishing to awake anyone near.

"Sleep naked, wouldn't be the first time-"

You covered his mouth with your hand, shaking it away as he gave it a playful kiss. You heart lunged at the memory of a moment similar to this when you had just been cheated on. Yet you ultimately decide to make yourself comfortable, just as the last, kicking off your shoes but deciding to stare at the side of his face illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace.

"You know, I think I have had enough drinks for tonight," Eddie comments as you hum out, eyes falling heavy as you press your head into your pillow for the night, taking a deep breath in- "I love you, (name). I've said it so many times to myself that it surprises me to sound so right saying it aloud," you are wide awake now, exhaling heavily as your legs twist together underneath the covers.

"I thought you were with Ms. Glass," you speak in a meek tone, not wanting your heart to explode twice, only one of you can be injured at a time. Edward chuckles, head shaking as he looks at you, brown eyes staring deeply into your own, "Well that same woman told me not to sleep with the help, I'm just taking her advice."

"Well she sounds like a very smart lady then, leaving all the more for me," you tease out, lips pressed together as you eye his own. Eddie leans forward, humming out as your lips connect, your hand finding the back of his head before a hiss escapes between his lips and you rapidly pull back.

"Oh shit, sorry," you apologize, looking under the covers to see your knee brushing into his bruised side. "You can always kiss it better," Eddie retorts as you roll your eyes and press a peck to his lips. "whats that supposed to solve?" And soon you both are up into the early morning hours.

When you awakened the next morning, having breakfast together in the study, you nearly spat our your tea with the words that escaped Eddies lips, "Would you help me steal a car if I asked politely?"

A smirk meets a smile as you tap your chin in mock-contemplation. "sure" you shrug, pulling the man into another kiss with a chuckle. And thus kicked off the rest of your lives together with a healthy side of cash.

Bonus:

↳ Lady Sabrina brought flowers and a bottle of wine to your mothers grave for a chit chat. She poured out to glasses, sitting one by the tombstone as she commented on the nutty taste of the substance.

"I was right in the end, you know. They are a rather marvellous couple and you really should have ended things with that husband of yours. My boy was only ever the most substantial choice, rather embarrassing to think otherwise."

Sabrina could imagine your mother glaring down at her, slipping her the bird while maintaining a pleasant smile. But in due time she would await that interaction as she sipped her wine, embracing victory as she squinted across the field watching as you and Eddie did shooting practice near the woods with a satisfied hum.

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung

↳ A/N: I think thats a wrap for Friend of the Captain... but definitely not for my writing on the Gentlemen (2024)!

#eddie halstead x reader #x reader #eddie x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #netflix #the gentlemen netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #eddie horniman #eddie horniman x reader #edward horniman #edward horniman x reader #the gentlemen 2024 #theo james #theo james x reader

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punk1nl0v333 · 5 months ago

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¡evan peters characters!

fall preferences!

tate langdon:

tate loves spending halloween with you, since it’s the only day he can leave the murder house

cozy sweaters, horror movies, the rare rainy night in, cuddles (he’s the little spoon obvi), the smashing pumpkins and nirvana playing on your cd player

he takes you to the unknown spots around town on halloween that have all the cool graffiti art, but they are unknown to most

overall a sweetheart

kit walker:

he watches girly rom coms and chick with you

you make pumpkin pie while he holds you by the waist, peppering chaste kisses along your neck and watching you at work.

“i’m not in your way, suga’… can’t you let a man watch his wife at work?”

visiting family for thanksgiving and charming his parents (he does the same)

laying with him in bed and listening to the storms

candle light when the power goes out, jazz playing on the radio, early morning kisses, walks on crisp october afternoons

pre-death!kyle spencer:

days spent in your dorm, watching horror movies that he adores

him watching you do your makeup before going to a halloween party in matching costumes that you chose.

him letting you paint his nails black to match yours, but denying it ever happened when he’s around his frat brothers (not in an ashamed way 😭)

him letting you wear his hoodies and sweatpants as the days grow colder

making desserts together at 3 am

james patrick march:

lots of planning for devils night—he has to be ready for the greatest serial killers of all time!

him seeing you in your flapper costume, absolutely shellshocked. he practically worships the ground you walk on, and seeing you in something so skimpy drove him insane

engaging in pastime murders with him (!IF THATS UR THING)

leisurely drinks, late nights waiting for him to come to bed, reading beside him, dancing to jazz by the bar

him letting you wear his blazer when you’re cold (wearing a dress)

austin sommers:

watching him at late hours, writing away in his notebook and drinking. you wrap your arms around him and he kisses your forehead, repeatedly telling you he needed to finish this before november.

halloween themed karaoke at the bar, in which he holds eye contact with you and eventually drags you on stage.

cuddling on the couch and watching hocus pocus over and over (it’s his favorite halloween movie.)

late nights drinking before going home and drunkenly eating the leftover pumpkin pie in the fridge while giggling uncontrollably.

peter maximoff:

watching him speed through piles of leaves, creating a tornado of red, brown, and orange hues, giggling to yourself as other students get frustrated with him

going trick or treating even though you both are way too old for it

watching his kleptomania at work as he takes all the candy from the “take one” bowls, haphazardly using his mutation out in a random neighborhood

watching community and—to your luck—landing on the halloween episode and giggling at the coincidence

listening to classic rock as you get ready to go out, but he pulls you back onto the bed for more cuddles (“baby please i need you… don’t go out yet…”)

play fighting on the bed

alex (adult world):

giggling as the halloween issues of different porno magazines ship to the store, judging the horrible costumes with him

him teaching you how to bake, you clinging to his side as he tries to work around you, being successful in his efforts.

studying for midterms during work, hoping alex doesn’t catch you off duty (it’s happened plenty of times)

watching the first snow together while leaving work, trying to catch the first snowflakes on your tongue

going to mini-parties at Rubia’s apartment and planning group halloween costumes that include a couple for you and alex

#evan peters #tate langdon #kit walker #kyle spencer #james patrick march #austin sommers #peter maximoff #alex adult world #simply the best #my man my man my man

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johnwickb1tsch · 8 months ago

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Vino Veritas - Part II

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. Eventual nsfw, not this chapter. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

II. The Interminable Fucking Car Ride

“So…what do you do?”

“I run the marketing department for JD Power.”

“The car trophy people?”

“That’s a magazine.”

“Ah. So you’re the grand architect of big corporate’s bid to tell us what to think while slyly taking all our money.”

He snorts. “Only those who are incapable of thinking for themselves. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to apply to you.”

If you squint, that almost felt like he was paying you a compliment.

“So, what do you do?” he asks in turn.

You don’t know why you’re almost embarrassed to tell him. “I run an art gallery/gift shop on the beach in Playa Bonita.”

He blinks, those lovely dark eyes fixed on you for a moment. “Of course you do.”

“What does that mean?”

He huffs a little. It almost sounds wistful, but then he frowns, utterly fucking ruining the moment. “You just look the type.”

You’re not sure why that stings…or why you even give a fuck.

The Fucking Rehearsal Dinner

“I’ve never really understood the point of the rehearsal dinner. Is eating so hard we really have to rehearse it?”

You sense an almost twitch of the corner of Frank’s mouth. They have stuck you together at a table in the far back. The black sheep who they felt they had to invite, but didn’t really want to.

“Not to miss the opportunity to make the groom’s parents spend unnecessary money too?” Frank offers.

“Fair to spread the misery, I guess.”

“Didn’t you sue Keith over this shit?”

“My parents did. They lost thirty thousand dollars in deposits.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. No one should spend that kind of money on a wedding.”

“Strangely, I agree with you now. I didn’t know any better at the time.” You’d been so young, you could hardly even fathom how much thirty-thousand dollars was.

Your parents had been happy at the time with the prospect of marrying you off to Keith. He’d been successful, charming, and outwardly doting on you. They never really thought you had much going on your own, so they probably thought he was the best you could do. The thought still hurts, more than it should.

“I mean,” you blurt, “Did you know who you are or what you wanted when you were 20?”

“Of course not.”

“He was my whole world. When he dumped me. It...it really fucked me up.” You don't know why you're admitting this to this near total stranger. There is just something about his forthright manner that demands honesty.

“Ah well, join the club. My father tried to shoot me once, if it makes you feel any better.”

You blink. “He tried to shoot you?”

“Yes. With a gun.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran at him.”

“You ran at him? Not away from him?”

“Yeah. Well, I was pissed off. He tried to shoot me again, but I got the gun away from him and hit him with it. Broke his orbital bone. He said I was the accumulation of all his bad decisions. He started to cry and begged me to kill him. I didn’t, only because I didn’t want to fuck my whole life up. The poor bastard jumped out the seventh floor the next day.”

Before you can stop yourself you reach out to place your hand on his on the table.

Before he can stop himself, his long fingers close around yours.

This connection endures for precisely 1.5 seconds before he shakes you off.

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think your fine.”

“Fine, I’m all fucked up, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You sigh, sinking down in your chair, embarrassed. Why did you touch him? What were you thinking?

“I guess we’re in the club together,” you answer miserably.

You feel him looking at you out the corner of his eye. There is a weight to this man’s gaze. It’s not unpleasant, just…you feel as though he sees everything.

“I feel like we should get at least decoder rings or something,” he grumbles.

The bride and groom make their entrance, interrupting whatever acerbic thing you were going to say next. You watch as they make their way through the crowd, basking in the glow of being the center of attention. Keith always loved that shit. You hate to admit, that his bride to be is a solid stone cold foxy 10. The kind of woman that men will trip over themselves for as they walk down the street.

You weren’t bad looking but you’d never had that kind of power.

If you wanted to trip a man, you had to do the dirty work and actually stick out your foot.

“Oh, look at us, let us presume to inconvenience you with the ostentatious display of our love,” you mock quietly in a mousy little falsetto.

It actually makes Frank laugh. At least, you think it’s a laugh. Maybe it was indigestion.

He joins in, though forgoing the funny voice, “And we’re conceited enough to think we’re actually different from the rest of the human race, and our love will last forever and ever…”

You’re enjoying this malicious bit of fun, but there is something in the way that he says it that makes you pause. “You don’t think love can ever last?” you ask.

He snorts. “Well, he doesn’t. I heard the prenup she had to sign was brutal,” he tells you.

“Poor thing.”

“You really feel sorry for her?”

“Slightly?”

“Are you going to say hello?”

You sigh. “I guess I fucking better.”

You slowly make to stand, the chair screeching under you. “Give ‘em hell, kid.”

You flip Frank the bird as you go, and hear that peculiar strangled sound that must pass for his outward expression of mirth.

Dumb ass free shit you would never do on your own

"I spoke to the bride last night."

“Indeed?”

You’ve had pedicures before, but you’ve never sprung for a professional foot massage, and you have to admit it feels pretty good. It totally surprised you to find Frank there, but he’d informed you unashamedly that he can’t resist free shit. You find that amusing, considering he’s obviously comfortable, if not outright rich.

Maybe that’s how he stays that way.

“Yes, and she told me she doesn’t mind that you’re here, and she’s not threatened by you.”

You snort at that, taking a long sip of your iced latte.

“At least, I think she meant you. She’s dumb as a box of rocks, it was hard to tell who or what she was talking about at times.”

You sigh at hearing that. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to soothe my feelings.”

It’s his turn to snort. “Merely reporting facts, I assure you. If you still feel badly about Keith and have not managed to move on to one of the other 8 billion people on this planet, then there is no helping you.”

“Is that your method for getting over a bad breakup?” He makes it sound so easy, you cannot help but roll your eyes at him.

“No, I have opted out of that shit show. It makes me uniquely qualified to offer comment on your own situation.”

You tilt you head in confusion, looking over at him. “You’ve…opted out of what? Dating? Romance? Marriage?”

“All of the above. It never ends well, as I have learned from watching my mother’s train wreck of a life as she blithely stumbled between marriages and boyfriends and suitors.”

“That’s so sad,” you blurt before you can stop yourself.

If you hadn’t already started to learn this man’s gestures, you would have missed the way he stiffened slightly, staring fixedly down at his feet.

“How many times have you been in love?” he asks.

You think about it, and regret the answer. “Just the once.” With Keith, the asshole. Any one who came after didn’t have much luck getting over the wall you built to protect yourself from another heartbreak.

He looks at you then, and you are pinned by those chocolate brown eyes, that for once seem earnest rather than annoyed. “What’s it like?”

The fact that this man, who is at least ten if not fifteen years your elder, is asking you tears your heart into little bits of confetti.

“It’s like going insane,” you answer truthfully, and he looks back down, frowning.

“I thought so.”

***

You are standing in your inflatable body bumpers together on the sidelines, declining to partake in this insane sport, content to watch the others attempt to inflict cervical injuries on themselves and others.

The question is eating at you, and you decide what the hell. What’s he going to do? Be mean to you?

“So, you’ve never been in love?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers, frowning, though it’s the same frown he’s been wearing for the past hour watching the idiots running around the field.

“Believe me, you would know.”

“Do insane people know they’re insane?”

“Ok, maybe that was a bad comparison. It’s…total surrender.”

“Wow, you’re really talking it up.”

“It is though. You have these special feelings for a person, and you just know whatever they do to you, it won’t matter, because you’ll still care for them.”

“It doesn’t matter, until it does matter.”

“Some people have higher tolerances for pain than others.”

“If you loved Keith you could probably take a Caesar-style stabbing without flinching.”

You’re not sure how exactly to respond to that.

“At any rate. I prefer to avoid pain rather than withstand it. My parents inflicted quite enough. No need to spread it around.”

“Alright, I get it that your parents sufficiently traumatized you, with the failed marriages and the…shooting thing. But doesn’t there come a point where you have to let it go and rise above it?”

“I don’t see any reason to.”

“Think about all your missing out on though.”

“What exactly is that?”

“You know…human connection. The things that make life worth living.”

“Jesus, are you sure you don’t work for Hallmark?”

“Positive.”

“I bet you sell rocks in your shop that have inspirational words carved in them.”

“Of course I do. The markup on those things is astronomical.”

You see him smirk out the corner of his eye.

“I bet you also sell little statues of big-eyed children slinging bible verses.”

“Ohhh, now those are fighting words, sir.” You bump him lightly with your inflatable tutu, making him shuffle a step. For a fleeting moment, you catch a hint of a smile, and it feels like a resounding victory.

Feeling bold, you fix him with an earnest stare. “You claim you’ve opted out of this mess. But what if you meet someone you really like?”

“Then I should probably run swiftly in the opposite direction,” he says, paying you a side-eyed look.

Five minutes later, he does quit the field, though he doesn’t quite run from it. You tell your self that it’s just a coincidence, and that he was just done standing in a polyvinyl orb in this heat.

But deep down…there is the tiniest kindling of something in your heart, and you know you should kick dirt over that shit and stomp on it.

You don’t, and you carry a ridiculous little light feeling with you as you return to the hotel.

It feels like you swallowed a butterfly.

#destination wedding #frank x you #frank x reader #frank x y/n #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #keanu reeves x you #frank reeves x you #frank reeves x reader #vino veritas destination wedding fic #destination wedding frank x you

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mzxixi · 5 months ago

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SUPERSTAR

──────────────────────

𓍯𓂃Sakusa Kiyoomi x model!Reader

after years of being outshined by his teammates Sakusa Kiyoomi needed a solution. The solution? Its you. Y/n L/n a model who is gaining popularity daily is just the perfect opportunity for him to get his name on the headlines. Will she be the root to his success or will she be the cause of his down fall?!

Tags/warnings: nothing much other than drinking

Note: this took so long cuz I’ve been rlly busy lately. Don’t mind any grammar mistakes English is not my first language🥹.Let me know if you want to be added into the tag list

──────────────────────Masterlist ~ next chapter ──────────────────────

It wasn’t new to him. Seeing his teammates on the news and all over social media except for him. It’s not like he has never received any attention but compared to his teammates he felt out of place. What can he do to get his name out there? Why do they get most of the attention?. Sighing as he put his phone down. “Hey Omi-omi you’re still here?” A blond setter sat next to him which irritated him even more. He thought he could finally be alone in the locker room but no.

“When’s your flight?” The blond asks. Sakusa did not want to answer him or even talk to him he let out a sigh “ 4 in the morning” his tone of voice was enough to let the other man know he wasn’t in the mood for a conversation. Atsumu got up grabbing his things from his locker before leaving Sakusa alone. “Have fun in new york”

“Thanks” he knew it was going to be the opposite of fun

What was there to like about bunch of models walking down the runway probably half naked

5 in the morning. It was too early for him to be waking up but there he was boarding his plane half awake and was reading to sleep throughout the whole flight. Luckily his seat was comfortable enough.

5 hours into the flight. He woke up to see his cousin reading a Magazine. Why did Komori had to follow him and why were they on the same flight. “I can’t believe this chick lives in Japan?” Noticing Sakusa was awake he tried to make conversation. “I don’t even see her on the front cover of our magazines” Sakusa hummed before closing his eyes again.

11 hours. They landed in New York . After arriving at their hotel all Sakusa wanted to do was rest but komori had other plans. “Let’s go grab dinner”. Right he wasn’t alone on this trip. Thankfully he doesn’t have to share a room. Feeling hungry himself he agreed.

They did not make reservations beforehand. They were told They had to wait 20 minutes before they were seated. Waiting outside Sakusa was getting impatient. He was about to leave until he was cameras flashing. They were all pointed towards a black sedan. Exiting the car was a face he had never seen before. The cameras flashed rapidly with some paparazzi desperate trying to get her attention. “She’s even prettier up close” he heard his cousin whispered. “That’s the girl I saw on the magazine. The one I showed you”

“Y/n can I take a photo with you?” a girl beside him asked. He wasn’t exactly judging her but why does she have to be so excited about meeting some unknown celebrity on the streets of New York . He did not notice he was eyeing the both of you until your gaze met his smiling at him.He did not even return your smile.

What’s so interesting about this girl?

──────────────────────

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You were excited and anxious. This is your first fashion show outside of Japan who would’ve thought you’ve made it this far. Certainly not you. But with your parents being highly respected individuals you weren’t surprised they probably bribe someone to get your name out there. But it doesn’t really matter to you because as far as you know today you will be a model for Dior.

“I met a guy yesterday” you said to your manager. “Y/n sit still and let emmy do her job” your manager pointed at your hairstylist. Emmy chuckled “no it’s ok. Continue miss y/n”. Your manager rolled her eyes before letting you continue. “I did not actually meet up with him” you started “we just crossed path and he happens to be standing right next to a fan I was taking photos with” you couldn’t really remember much other than his attractiveness. “But I smiled at him and he doesn’t seem to like me much” you express.

“So he’s a total stranger” your hairdresser spoke up before Akiko could. You were sure you are not going to see him again so you brushed it off and changed the topic. “I wonder what dress I am going to wear” you haven’t seen your outfit yet and you were excited to see it. “It’s beautiful” your manager says as she took a sip of her coffee. “So beautiful it’ll make that guy wish he had smiled at you back” you let out a laugh at your manager words.

She wasn’t lying when she said the dress you were wearing is beautiful. The dress you are wearing is a black lace dress that will surely capture the eyes of your audience. “Am I old enough to wear a dress this short?” The dress was surely too short but who cares.

You were beyond nervous Scared that you will mess up and ruin your whole career. In a few seconds you were about to make a name for yourself.

Walking down the runway wasn’t so bad. You just had to mind your step and make yourself look presentable. You could tell the audience loved your dress looking at each one of them you were happy they were pleased by how you looked but one particular audience caught you off guard.

It was him. The guy you saw the other night. Same curly hair and stoic expression.

You nearly messed up when you saw him. Who was he? Was he some kind of celebrity you don’t know off? What ever it is you were surely going to find out who he is.

“You did so good out there darling” your mom greeted you with a hug. “Be more careful next time I saw you nearly mess things up” she said strictly. Did she come here to praise you or lecture you. You messed up because of a guy but you weren’t going to tell her that.You weren’t in the mood to deal with all her lectures “it’s my first time and I got nervous” you cleared things up. Your mom had always been strict with you. Always wanted you to be a model and even having a strict diet for you which you had to obey majority of your life. She always find a way to push you way past your limits and you were growing tired of her

“Whatever I’ll see you at the hotel” she kissed ur cheeks before leaving.

──────────────────────

New York felt like a dream come true you couldn’t believe how this city can be so bright and full of life even during the late hours. You wanted to have some fun here but the problem is your mother. You hated how she won’t even let you have some time for yourself here.

You couldn’t believe you were here with someone like your mother. Dragging your feet along the hotel lobby you stumble upon someone familiar. A model who you met earlier. Amelia Martinez. “Y/n,surprised to see you here” you were surprised too. Surprised she even noticed you. Amelia was a senior with much more experience than you. She was tall,beautiful and had the perfect characteristics to be a model. Who wouldn’t be jealous of her.

“Amelia” you forced yourself to greet her. To tired to even deal with anyone right now. You noticed that she was all dressed up ready to go out. Out of curiosity you gathered up the courage to ask her which to your surprised she answered excitedly “I’m just heading to the club down the street” she answered cheerfully “do you want to come with me? It’ll be lonely if I go there by myself” was she really inviting you to hand out with her?

This was the perfect opportunity to enjoy your time here in new York and to get away from your mother for at least a couple of hours. Without thinking twice you went with her in what ever clothes you were wearing.

Amelia turned out to be better than you expected. She was open minded and out going. “And that’s how I became a model” her story made you feel a wave of jealousy rush over you. She had always wanted to become a model and had all of her familys support while you never had anyone’s support and all you got was a pushy mother who wanted “the best” for you. “You’re off to a great start y/n” her words sounded genuine and you liked how she praises you. As the night goes on you and her were having the time of your lives. You will admit that you were a bit drunk.

Heading over to the bar. You noticed a familiar figure sitting all alone in the corner away from all the people. You had to look at him twice to finally remember who that person is.

It was him. The one you saw at the restaurant and during your show. Without thinking twice you approached him in your drunken state.

“Usually the prince is the one who goes searching for his princess but in this universe the princess is the one searching for her prince”

──────────────────────

Tag list: @miliondollagirl

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu #superstar

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veronicaleighauthor · 1 year ago

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Banned Books Week 2023

It’s that time of year again, when we honor and focus on the books out there that have been banned. And boy, it seems the last few years that book banning has been on the rise. You know if you don’t like a book and you don’t agree with it, no one is forcing you to read it. I’ll even go as far as understanding parents taking books out of their own kid’s hands. My objection is when parents take books out of some other kid’s or adult’s hand. Growing up, if someone had taken “The Diary of Anne Frank” off of my library’s shelf, I would have been lost.

This year I’m focusing on… “Anne of Green Gables,” by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Yes, you read that right, our dear old unromantic Anne Shirley was banned!

Description:

Eleven-year-old Anne Shirley has never known a real home. Since her parents’ deaths, she’s bounced around to foster homes and orphanages. When she is sent by mistake to live with Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert at the snug white farmhouse called Green Gables, she wants to stay forever. But Anne is not the sturdy boy Matthew and Marilla were expecting. She’s a mischievous, talkative redheaded girl with a fierce temper, who tumbles into one scrape after another. Anne is not like anybody else, the Cuthberts agree; she is special, a girl with an enormous imagination. All she’s ever wanted is to belong somewhere. And the longer she stays at Green Gables, the harder it is for anyone to imagine life without her.

Author:

Lucy Maud Montgomery was born in Clifton, Prince Edward Island, in 1874. Educated at Prince Edward College, Charlottetown, and Dalhousie University, she embarked on a career in teaching. From 1898 until 1911 she took care of her maternal grandmother in Cavendish, Prince Edward Island, and during this time wrote many poems and stories for Canadian and American magazines. Montgomery’s first novel, Anne of Green Gables, met with immediate critical and popular acclaim, and its success, both national and international, led to seven sequels. Maud Montgomery also wrote the popular Emily of New Moon in 1923 followed by two sequels, and Pat of Silver Bush in 1933 with its sequel. L. M. Montgomery died in Toronto in 1942, but it is her early years of lush, green Prince Edward Island that live on in the delightful adventures of the impetuous redhead, the stories Mark Twain called “the sweetest creation of child life yet written.”

Why It was Banned:

You’re probably asking yourself, who on earth would ban something as adorable, and funny, and innocent as “Anne of Green Gables?” (Who on earth bans any book?) Well, let’s find out!

After “Anne of Green Gables,” was published in 1908, it wasn’t long before it was translated into other languages, that way others could fall in love with Anne Shirley. In 1912, it was translated to Polish and it found a captive audience amongst the Polish people. Soon, Lucy Maud Montgomery’s other works were translated, and she grew very popular there. Anne’s individuality was endearing. In 1939, when the Nazis invaded Poland, Polish soldiers were issued copies of Montgomery’s novels to take to the frontlines, as a means to raise the moral. When the Nazis occupied the country, “Anne of Green Gables” and Montgomery’s other works were banned, but that didn’t stop the Polish people. Copies were sold on the black market; resistance members carried them. Anne Shirley had become a beacon of hope. The war in Poland ended in 1945 and I’m sure the Polish people were looking forward to being free…unfortunately, they had been liberated by the Soviets and a Communistic government was put into place. Similarly, because Montgomery’s works were so beloved and “Anne’s resistance to authority” was a threat, the Soviets viewed it as “subversive” and banned “Anne of Green Gables” in 1953 to 1956.

My Thoughts:

I first read “Anne of Green Gables” when I was thirteen or fourteen. My family and I were visiting family up north and we stopped by this huge warehouse that sold old, used books for cheap. I stumbled across “Anne of Green Gables” and from the title I was intrigued, and it was one of the ones we bought. I devoured it and soon fell in love with odd, weird, red-haired girl. She turns her hair green, hits a boy with a slate, gets her friend drunk – what’s not to like? I had no idea it was Classic Lit – to me Anne Shirley felt modern and realistic. I went on to read the rest of the series, and re-read them off and on over the years. Then, I found the miniseries! Imagine my surprise when I learned it was a banned book.

So, you see, the Nazis and the Communists banned and censored books…Those who are on the side of good don’t ban and censor books. And I’ll leave it at that.

#banned books week #banned books #banned books week 2023 #anne of green gables #l. m. montgomery #lucy maud montgomery #anne shirley #classic literature #poland #communists #nazis #wwii

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dodorimo · 7 months ago

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something old, something new - part 2

continuation to this. Raphtav. 1.6k

Raphael actually appears here. Car sex ensues.

AO3 link

· · ────── ❊ ────── · ·

“Can we expect little ones soon?”

The coffee spews out of her mouth in a perfect arch. For an instant, she must’ve looked like one of those tacky, fish-like water fountains you often see in gardens.

Did Astarion wait until she took a big sip so she would make an even bigger mess? The bastard.

Tav quickly assesses the damage. Her new clothes have been spared, thankfully. The same couldn’t be said for the restaurant's table.

Their shopping spree had been a success. Somewhere along the way, Astarion convinced her she was in dire need of new jewelry, which brought up the matter of her complete lack of proper beachwear, and so on. There were almost too many bags to carry, all of them were from different brands: Hermès, Tiffany, Dior, Sephora (that last one was a little self-indulgence of hers).

“We’ve too much on our plate to worry about kids,” she said, grabbing a napkin to clean up her mess.

Raphael as a father? Hell would first freeze over.

“When you say ‘we’ do you mean ‘we both individually’ or ‘we’ as in ‘I don’t want it’?” He emphasizes his point by making quotation marks with his fingers. “With how quickly he put a ring on it, you’d think he’s plugging you full every night.”

And there goes the last sip of her coffee. Out of her mouth.

The lewd picture he conjured aside, she had to disagree that it was really that fast. Four months of dating is a perfectly reasonable amount of time for people over 30. Right? … Right?

“‘We’ as in ‘we’ have no vocation to be parents.”

“Hm. A shame.” Astarion makes a face. “Some would argue you two are too pretty for your union not to bear fruit,” he says and takes a bite off his ice cream… A bite. With his teeth. She’s pretty sure this is the first time she’s seen anyone do that.

“What’s your excuse?” she deflected. “You should’ve an army of nose-pickers by now.”

That managed to shut him up.

She seizes the opportunity to lazily scroll through her social media feed. All afternoon, she and Astarion joked about all the ways Raphael would get back on her for her (presumably) dress transgression. They had plenty of ideas: he would send her a text (signed with his initials, as he usually does), then come pick her up in his limo to give her a ‘stern talking to’. All meaningless jest, of course. With no basis in reality. None.

That's why when the notification pops up on her screen, she thinks it's her mind playing tricks on her. But the more she stares at it, the less likely it is to go away.

[17h14] ❤︎ Million Dollar Man ❤︎ said: I’m outside - R

“Guess you're going to have to hitch a ride on your own now.” She tilts her phone so Astarion can read the message too. “Mine just arrived.”

Astarion sends her a look over his silver-rimmed sunglasses. He doesn’t seem fazed. “Oh my. Speak of the devil.”

They say their goodbyes (and in his case, good luck) and then she’s off to search for her fiancée. It doesn’t take long. In fact, it doesn’t take time at all. Parked at the front of the street and taking up most of the space is a black limousine.

Why the limousine today and not one of his many sports cars? She would’ve more luck making sense of a physics problem.

The car takes off the moment she gets in. She holds on to her seat to keep from tipping over. Gods, she forgot how fast those things were.

She remembers her first ride. The giddy smile on her face. Do you see me now, mother? It seems almost banal now.

Sitting across from her, Raphael is a sight worthy of a magazine cover. He’s dressed in a three-piece black suit today, with a burgundy tie and a golden watch on his wrist.

In other words, he’s looking every inch the filthy rich man he is.

Tav almost feels bad about her waist-high jeans and loose ponytail. Almost.

“You have coffee on your shirt,” are his first words to her.

And, just like that, all her goodwill goes out the window. She tactfully adjusts her hair so it covers the offending stain. “Hello to you too,” she mumbles.

Something is plaguing him today. His fingers drum on his thigh in a frantic staccato. Whatever he wanted to say to her, he didn’t like it at all. Thankfully, she finds out soon enough.

“I need a plus one for today’s inauguration party.”

“But I thought that was…”

“Taken care of?” He waves a dismissive hand. “So did I. Change of plans. Out of my control.” Annoyance reduced his usual flowery language to a series of short sentences. That bad, huh.

Today is her day off. He’s in big trouble.

“You’ll be thoroughly rewarded.” This is the closest he’d come to pleading with her.

The effort is good enough. She nods, a small smile playing on her lips.

Raphael lets out a sigh and it's as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. She’s still staring at him expectantly, though. Was that really all?

“So… you didn’t come for the dress?”

For some reason, he found this hilarious. “Why? Is there something you wish to tell me, my dear?”

She doesn’t have to answer. The car slows down; they’ve arrived at their destination. His penthouse, by the looks of it. The one on the main street, to be more specific.

“Daniella will brief you on the details when you get there.” The mirth he showed earlier is gone. He’s all business now.

“You’re not staying?”

“I have other matters to attend to before the party. I’ll meet you there.” He moves to open the door.

“Wait.” She holds his wrist and looks at him in the eye, hoping her pouty lips and pleading gaze would convey her meaning.

Fortunately for her, it does.

Raphael tastes like whiskey and freshly picked cherries. The kiss starts slowly, a mere touch of lips, before evolving into something more intense, passionate. She gets lost in him, in the feeling of his body pressing against hers and his hand cupping her breast.

He pulls away suddenly. He almost seems angry at her, with his ragged breath and furrowed brow. She hears the door closing with a soft click.

“Ten minutes.”

Then he kisses her again.

Tav smiles against his lips. This is a lot more than she was going for.

Raphael parts from her just long enough to check if the privacy screen that separates the car from the driver’s seat is closed. It is.

As with most things where he was concerned, she struggled to wrap her head around his bed habits. He had all the pomp of a man who wanted to be in control, while sparing none of the effort.

But there is an appeal in the challenge, in the idea of bending him to her wishes. Just as she knows he would be doing the same to her.

With practiced ease, she pulls out his cock from his trousers and kneels in front of him. The car is big enough for her to do so without issue.

Tav knows by now just how much he enjoys a show. Almost as much as he enjoys the feeling itself. So she gives him what he wants.

She starts by teasing the sensitive skin at the base of his cock, her hand fondling his balls. He sucks in a breath. He doesn’t want to let her know how eager he is already. As if she couldn’t tell.

He's not idle, in the sense that he talks her through it. Praises her at every move, telling her how good her tongue feels on him, how pretty she looks with his cock down her throat, what a naughty little whore she is who couldn’t wait until they’re out of the public eye.

Tav wasn't completely honest with Astarion. Raphael is good at this. At telling her what to do. On most days, his voice alone is enough to get her off.

He commands her to pull up her shirt, move faster, put her little fingers between her legs. Where are the manners he showed her just now?

She kisses him and takes him whole and makes that little wet noise halfway between a kiss and a suck that he likes so much. She even gives her tongue a few taps with his cock. In a matter of minutes, he’s close to the edge.

“Get up.” Sweat runs down his temples as he struggles to keep hold of himself. “I’m finishing inside you.”

“I…it’s that time of the month.” She swears she told him.

For a frightening moment, he seems to be weighing his options, before deciding on sinking his fingers into her hair, pulling her to him. “Finish what you started.”

Gladly.

The hand at the back of her neck gives her little choice. She swallows everything he has to give, little tears pricking her eyes and, when it’s done, she sticks out her tongue for his perusal. Not a drop to be seen.

His smile is wide as he gives her cheek a playful slap. She is being dismissed.

She watches him as he fixes his clothes. His hair is disheveled in all the places her fingers touched. There’s a hint of pride in knowing she was the cause, in knowing she was the one to make a dent in his perfectly manicured facade.

It is only for the sake of her rebellious womb that she doesn’t guide his fingers to her wet cunt so he can finish what he started. Disgust be damned.

“Later then.”

She gives him one last look before the door closes. His voice is husky when he finally answers, evoking a pet name coined long ago.

“Until later, little mouse.”

#my writing #raphtav #raphael fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #made slight tweaks to the first part #and renamed it #raphael x tav

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bleach-your-panties · 1 year ago

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💔the financial abuser - kingpin!touya todoroki x black! wife!reader

warnings: modern au/no quirks, drug family business, mention of past child abuse (y'all know the story), family illness (not touya or y/n), oral (m! receiving), car sex, pre-marital sex, dacryphilia, degradation, breeding kink, size kink, pregnancy, coercion, controlling/obsessive behavior, stalking, angry outbursts, choking (not in a sexual context), drug use, gaslighting, manipulation, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, mental illness, serious injury/hospitalization. read at your own risk!

☠️: some dialogue/actions inspired by true events.

💔: banner images from pinterest

💔: banner made by me with canva

💔post themes: ain't about the money - t.i. ft. young thug

soldier - destiny's child

throat baby (remix) -

brs kash ft. city girls

baby by me - 50 cent ft. neyo

whatever you like - t.i.

what you know - t.i.

superman - eminem

papers - usher

roses - outkast

gold digger - kanye west

💔9.7k words!

💔read in dark mode for best experience!

🖤yo. 🖤series. 🖤iida.

—-

----

If you ain’t no punk, holler,

“We want prenup!”

Yeah, that’s something that you need to have

‘Cause when she leave yo ass

She gone leave with half

___

You met your husband, Touya, at a hair salon in your neighborhood.

In the "hood", so to speak. You grew up in an impoverished neighborhood in one of the roughest cities to live in in the nation, with an 80% black population and a violent crime rate 95% higher than the national average.

Although it was dangerous as hell, the living conditions were less than desirable, and you were constantly surrounded by sketchy people, this was your home.

You'd grown up in this city and attended school here from elementary through university. Now at age 26, you're a successful chemical engineer, working as a consultant for the city's power plant.

Your parents are both deceased unfortunately; your father died in your childhood and your mother passed away after a long battle with breast cancer just after your senior year of university, so as far as family went, you only had your dear aunt, who was getting up in age.

She's your father's sister, having supported you throughout most of your academic life by helping you get back and forth to campus, attending all necessary parental conferences when your mother was too sick to, and finally, attending all of your graduation ceremonies. You are extremely thankful for her.

Present day, all you do is work, pretty much.

With your work, you usually have to keep your hair pulled back in a tight bun and covered with a protective hair cap. It was always a relief to be able to get your hair done and have your stylist rub her long, acrylic nails against your scalp while she lathered your natural tresses with sweet-smelling shampoo.

The soft ding of the bell hanging over the door alerted you to a newcomer's presence while you sat underneath the dryer reading one of the old Jet magazines that every salon always seemed to keep on hand.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

You looked up from your magazine and your dark brown eyes fell upon the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Tall, muscular frame, skin the color of freshly churned milk and hulking arms a collage of black ink. He was no shorter than 6'5'' at the least. You could tell by the way that he had to duck under the door frame to come inside the shop.

"Heyyy, Touya~" Your eyes moved around, pupils enlarging as you realized that every other woman in the shop had stopped whatever they were doing to greet this man.

Just who is this guy?

He walked further inside the small salon, his small, narrowed, turquoise eyes roaming over each and every feminine face before stopping at yours.

Oh no, he's walking over here!

Your face began to heat up; you hated being put on the spot and this man was just too gorgeous, you might faint!

He smirked at you and dug his big hands into the pockets of his black joggers.

"What's up, pretty? I think I would remember seeing a face as gorgeous as yours around here. What's your name?"

Your stylist came over then, smacking her lips at Touya and motioning for you to come over to her chair.

"Leave her alone, Touya. She wants nothing to do with the likes of you. She's a good girl, she's not interested in thugs."

That made your blush worsen and you lowered your head to the tiled floor, hoping that he'd just move on and bother one of the other women.

Touya laughed loudly. He brought his arms up to rest behind his hair, which you now noticed to be a brilliant white, just like freshly fallen snow.

His big biceps bulged and you could see that they were also covered in tattoos. He even had them all along his neck, trailing upwards to just under his chiseled jawline and then downwards, disappearing into his white V-neck.

"How do you know what she likes, Tisha? And I'm not a thug, I'm a well-respected businessman, I'll have you know."

The entire shop cracked up at that, making your anxiety lessen just as you looked up to further examine this man.

Unfortunately, he caught you looking and bit his lip at you. Usually, the gesture would've made you cringe, but it was different when he did it. It was sexy.

His lips were a little plump and when he bit them, you could see two glints of silver: a tongue stud and a lip stud.

"Y/n is my name." You said simply.

He smiled this time and squatted down so you didn't have to crane your neck to look at his face.

"Y/n, huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You almost wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you smiled.

"Thank you….Touya…"

He nodded slightly. More glints of silver when he made the gesture; he also had his right eyebrow pierced, three stud piercings in his nostril, and multiple silver hoops in each ear.

“God had no business making this man this damn fine.”

A deep chuckle broke you out of your thought process.

"Well, I appreciate that, beautiful. Tisha, don't charge her anything for her hair. I'll pay for it."

Aw, shit, did I say that out loud?! Nice going, Y/n!

"What? No! You don't have to do that, I can pay for myself!" You huffed. You knew this game all too well.

If he paid for your hair, he'd feel like you owed him something. Not a chance.

"Oh, girl hush and let that man pay for you. Keep that $750 in your pocket, shit." Tisha chuckled as she began to install your wig.

Touya handed her the money out of his wallet while grinning. He held his hands up, palms facing you in a gesture of surrender.

“I promise I don’t want anything in return, but maybe you wouldn’t mind grabbing breakfast with me one day? I know this great spot right down the street from the salon.”

You scoffed, now finally rolling your eyes at him.

“That’s still wanting something, pretty boy, even if it’s only a meal.”

Touya shrugged. “So that’s a no, then? Too bad. I won’t keep bothering you, though. See ya around, pretty girl.” He teased with a smug look on his face before turning and walking back out the door of the salon.

A few hours later, Tisha was done with your hair. She handed you a mirror so you could look at yourself.

“Thanks, Tish, it looks amazing!” You dug in your purse for your wallet so you could give her a tip, but she stopped you.

“Girl, what are you doing? Touya already paid me.” Eyebrows scrunched, you pushed the $20 bill into her hand anyway and got up out of the chair before she could protest.

“Just take it. Maybe next time I come I can get a discount on my lash installment.”

“Girl, you crazy! Get on out of here!”

You left the shop smiling to yourself. The bell tinkled over your head as you walked out into the bright sunlight.

Your smile immediately dropped when you walked over to your car and noticed that you had a flat tire.

“Oh no, what the hell?! When did that get there? Aw, man…”

The offending item that had punctured your tire was a long, rusty nail sticking out the side of it.

“Dammit, now I’m going to have to call a tow truck.” You sighed and pulled your iPhone out of your purse.

“Need some help, pretty?”

It was Touya - he’s still been here all this time?

He casually leaned up against a smoke-gray Range Rover with black rims. The brake calipers had been spray-painted a deep purple.

“Oh, Touya. There’s a nail in my tire, but it’s fine, I can just call-”

“I can wait with you for the tow truck and then take you home.” He offered. Getting up off the truck, he stalked his way over, taking long strides. In a second, he was standing right next to you, so close that you could smell his expensive cologne.

You didn’t know how to react, just kind of looking up at him with a stuck expression on your face.

“Uh, you really don’t have to…I could just call someone..”

“Why do that when I’m standing right here?”

A perfectly arched eyebrow raised. “Because I don’t know you? You could be a serial killer.”

You know now that he’s most likely a drug dealer, like that was any better…but yeah.

Touya just laughed at you and shook his head.

“Not gonna make it easy for me, huh? I like that. Keep it up, baby doll. I’ll get you sooner or later.” He walked back over to his truck and opened the driver-side door.

“At least come sit and chat with me until the tow truck comes?” You couldn’t continue to resist him, no matter how much you wanted to. Especially when he looked at you with those turquoise eyes.

—-

And that’s how your whirlwind romance began.

—-

Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger

But she ain’t messing with no broke niggas

Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger

But she ain’t messing with no broke niggas

Cutie the bomb, met her at a beauty salon

With a baby Louis Vuitton under her arm

She said, “I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm

Far as girls you got a flock

I can tell by your charm and your arm”

But I’m lookin’ for the one, have you seen her?

—-

After that day, you and Touya began somewhat of a friendship.

Whenever you came to get your hair done, he’d somehow always be there and he’d always pay for your hair, nails, and lashes. Turns out that he owned the beauty salon, the diner that he offered to take you out to, and pretty much everything else on that strip.

One day after you got off of work, you were surprised to see his truck out in the parking lot.

He was waiting for you.

“Touya! Funny meeting you here, what’s up?” You put your hands on your hips.

“I want to take you on a date tonight.”

Your eyes bulged slightly, probably making you look like a fool, but Touya didn’t waver in his proposition.

"What do you say, pretty? Go out with me?"

You began weighing all the positives and negatives of going on a date with him. He could have a gaggle of jealous exes just waiting to catch him with another woman and raise hell, or one of his opps that was waiting to catch him slipping so they could blow his head off.

Tough decision, but eventually you folded and agreed.

—-

After your first date, you saw Touya more and more, seemingly everywhere you went.

The grocery store, the mall, restaurants. You even saw him across the street from your dentist's office one day while leaving an appointment.

Despite all of these seemingly random pop-ups, you found yourself undeniably attracted to Touya, which may have clouded your judgment just a tad.

So over the next several weeks, Touya would continue to show up at your job and surprise you with flowers, food from his diner, and lavish gifts.

This is how you would end up kneeling underneath the dashboard in Touya's Range in the parking lot of the industrial plant, hours after your shift had ended.

His black sweatpants were pulled down his thick, muscled thighs and pooled around his ankles while you struggled to take his huge cock into your mouth.

He regarded you with those cool, turquoise eyes, one large hand planted firmly on the top of your head as he guided you up and down on his hard shaft.

"Just like that, pretty. Such a perfect, slutty mouth. Yeah, you like being slutted out outside of your job? Not the perfect, innocent little scholar right now, are you?"

You hummed around his dick, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth while you breathed steadily through your nose.

Touya's degradation never failed to turn you on, but sometimes you felt like he was just being mean intentionally.

His hands pressed down on your head harder, forcing you to take him further down your aching throat. Once he started, Touya wouldn't let up until he fucked your throat raw and tears streamed down your beautiful face, ruining your expensive makeup.

He loved to see you cry.

"There you go, baby. That's my good girl. Take my cock like only you can."

You moaned around him as best you could, but your jaw was aching and you felt like you'd pass out from lack of oxygen any moment now.

Suddenly, you were being pulled off of him by the roots of your hair. Touya dragged you over the center console into the backseat with you sputtering and trying to catch your breath.

"Down." He ordered and you immediately obeyed, getting on your hands and knees.

He clambered over you clumsily, his height preventing him from being able to get into the exact position that he wanted, but this would have to do.

"Arch."

Tattooed hands came down to hold your lower hips as soon as you arched your back.

You were already wet from sucking him off, but due to the sheer size of Touya's dick, it wouldn't be enough.

Hiking one foot up, he removed one hand to guide his dick into your hole. You immediately felt the burn.

"TOUYA! It's too much…" You moaned with your head turned slightly to the side to look over your shoulder at him.

"Not too much, baby. Never too much for you, my sweet girl. Take me, baby. Take my big fucking dick in your tiny little hole. I know you can do it."

Your freshly done acrylics scraped against the car door while Touya grabbed your expensive bundles up in one hand and forced your head completely flat on the floor with the other.

His pace was hard and rough, but he knew you were loving everything that he was giving you judging by your moans.

"Shit, pussy's so good baby, sucking me in so nice…fuuuccck!"

Of all of the women that he's fucked, you were the only one that had been able to take all of him without passing out.

It was a shock to you as well, how you hadn't passed out already from Touya's deep stroking. No doubt his fat tip was hitting your cervix; you could feel him in your damn stomach.

"Touya, I'm going to cum!" Your words were muffled, but he could just make out what you were trying to say and feel you clenching around him.

His eyes watched your ass move in waves as he pounded into you with everything he had, no doubt making the entire car shake from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Come on, cum on this dick, baby. Make a mess on me, baby doll,” He cooed softly, leaning over you to press you against the floor as he rolled his hips into you.

"TOUYA!"

"Yes, scream my name, girl! SHIT!"

—-

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in the front of a large mansion with a high, wrought-iron gate around it. It was surrounded by acres of land, all to itself off in the countryside. A soft, fleece blanket covered your naked body.

"Where are we? Is this your house?"

"Fucked you so good you lost your memory, baby, but yes, this is my house."

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"Why wouldn't I? Why, you'd rather me fuck your brains out and just leave you passed out, only to wake up alone in a fucking parking lot in the dark? Come on, Y/n." You could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror.

Remaining silent, you just hugged the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"So where do we go from here, Touya? What's next for us?"

He hit a button and the doors unlocked. Touya came around to open your door and then scooped you up into his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

"I brought you here in hopes that you'd agree to be my girlfriend."

"What if I say no?"

"Then I have to kill you."

"WHAT!?"

"I'm just playing, girl. Damn. So will you? Will you be my baby?"

—-

Touya and you began dating that night, and not even six months later, he asked you to marry him.

And you said yes.

Now, you believed that you were in love with Touya. He treated you like a princess and showered you with expensive gifts: jewelry, cars, designer clothes, shoes, and bags. Whatever your heart desired. Not to mention he was sweet, attentive, caring, loving, and amazing in bed.

Little did you know that Touya had another side to him.

—-

Stacks on deck, patron on ice

And we could pop bottles all night, and,

Baby, you could have whatever you like

I said you could have whatever you like, yeah

Late-night sex, so wet, it's so tight

I gas up the jet for you tonight

And baby you can go wherever you like

I said you can go wherever you like, yeah

—-

While you were planning your wedding, many of your friends and family members came to you with concerns about your fiance. Including your beloved aunt.

“That boy is no good, Y/n. I’m telling you. Just look into those cold, soulless eyes of his. That boy is not right in the head.” She would rant as you sat on her living room couch with wedding books opened up all around you.

"Please, Auntie. Touya is a good guy. Sure, he's in the streets, but he'd never hurt me."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself."

Rolling your eyes, you had heard enough of the negativity.

Gathering up the books and magazines, you threw them into your new Louis Vuitton tote bag and pulled it onto your shoulder.

"I have to go, Auntie, or I'll be late for my dress fitting. I love you." You leaned down to give her a hug and kiss on the jaw.

"I love you, too, baby. Just please think about what I've been saying before you rush into this marriage, alright?"

"Alright, I hear you. I'm gone."

You stepped out of her house and closed the screen door behind you. Your black BMW M3 with the custom purple wheels sat pretty in the driveway. Touya had it custom-painted for you, said that everyone needs to know that you're his woman.

As you were backing out of the driveway, you heard your phone vibrating in your bag.

🖤🫶🏾Husband💜 would like to FaceTime…

You declined the request and hooked your phone up to the car mount, immediately calling him back on the phone.

"What the fuck, Y/n? Why are you declining my calls? Where the hell are you at? I've been calling you all damn day!" He barked through the receiver, making you cringe.

"I-I just got in the car, I'm leaving Auntie's house, on the way home now…"

You could almost hear him rolling his eyes on the other end.

"Yeah, and what did she want now? Still bitching about you marrying me?" He scoffed.

"Touya, stop that. She's only concerned about me, that's all."

"Yeah, whatever you say, Y/n. I know that your whole fucking family despises me, not that I give a fuck, though. I'm marrying you, not any of them."

"That's true, Touya, but it would be better if you at least tried to get along with them."

"Well, maybe they should stop judging a book by its cover and try to get along with me since I'm about to be your husband."

"I don't think that's how it works, but okay, Touya. I'll be pulling up in a little bit."

"Are you trying to rush me off the phone? I called because I want to see you before I leave tonight. Gotta fly to Tijuana for business."

Of course, 'for business' meant, to pick up a "shipment".

—-

Ayy, don't you know I got kis by the three

When I chirp, shawty chirp back

Louie knapsack where I'm holding all the work at

What you know about that?

I know all about that

—-

"And by 'see me', you mean get your dick wet. I have wedding stuff to do, baby. I have to fly to Paris to pick up my dress and how am I supposed to do that if you're taking the jet?" You complained.

"Just send your assistant to get it. I need you here to take care of me, baby doll, just like how I take care of you. Come on, now."

You wanted to retort that you needed to be there to try it on, but there was no arguing with Touya, especially when he wanted sex.

"Okay, I'm almost there. Tell the guards to open the gate."

—-

"Ohh shit, Touya, baby, give me that dick~"

"Yeah baby, you like that?"

And that's how the two of you went along for the rest of the night, Touya putting you in all different types of positions, beating your shit in.

He was always rough, pulling your hair and smacking your ass until it was raw and red.

He made sure to leave marks all over your neck and titties as well, marring your brown skin so that whenever any man looked at you, they'd KNOW that you were getting dicked down by a real motherfucking king.

"God Y/n, how do you keep this shit so tight? I'm gonna bust my load in you, fuck around, and get you pregnant tonight, girl."

"Mmm, if we don't stop now you're going to miss your flight."

"Fuck it," He chuckled, "I'll call Shoto to handle it."

Shoto, his younger brother who'd just finished college a semester ago. Touya had taken him underneath his wing to train him to be next in line for the family business.

His other siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi, wanted nothing to do with this life and just worked everyday blue-collar jobs.

"Here, get on top of me. Ride this dick while I make the call."

You sighed but complied nonetheless and crawled up onto his lap as he reclined against the head of your shared California king bed.

"Hello?" You heard Shoto's bland, emotionless voice come over the receiver.

"Hey Sho, I need you to go handle that for me. Jet's already loaded and ready to go."

"What? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I told you to do it and I'm the boss."

"Yeah whatever, you're probably too busy fucking. Hey Y/n." He snickered, causing your cheeks to heat up. He knew his older brother too well.

Touya hung up on him and tossed the phone to the side, grabbing your hips and slamming you down onto his thick cock.

"You gonna let me get you pregnant, huh, baby? Gonna let me breed this little cunt, stuff you nice and full, and make you fat with my seed?"

You weren't quite sure that you were ready to have a child, but you were starting to get up in age and you and Touya are getting married, so what's the harm? You nodded.

"Yes, Touya. I love you. Make me a mommy."

—-

Have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire

Be a millionaire, be a millionaire, b-be a millionaire

I don't play no games (I don't play no games)

So when I'm in that thang (when I'm in that thang)

Come see what I mean (see what I mean)

See what I mean, see what I mean, oh

I said lil mama put me on (baby, put me on)

Bet I'll have you gone (bet I'll have you gone)

Come see what I mean, see what I mean

See what I mean (see what I mean)

New music, new mood, new position

New erotic sounds, it's going down, now listen

I can hear your heartbeat, you're sweating

I could paint a perfect picture

I get deeper and deeper, I told ya I'd get ya

I'd work that murk that, just the way you like it, baby

Turn a quickie into an all-nighter maybe

Yo, I need you to be what I need, more than liquor and weed

I need you to maybe give me a seed

I need you to give me reason to breathe

I need you

—-

Time Skip, Wedding Day

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Fuyumi asked you while she was putting your veil in your hair.

You only giggled softly, rubbing a hand over your small baby bump.

"I think it's a little too late to back out now, Fuyumi." She shook her head, making her white and red curls bounce.

"It's never too late to change your mind. You're not his wife, yet. Y/n, I love my brother with all of my heart, but honestly, you deserve so much better than him."

It was hurtful to hear, but you weren't shocked by the young woman's words.

Natsuo and Fuyumi were like your family; they also didn't think that you should marry Touya.

"I'm pregnant with his child, Fuyu, and I don't want to be a single mother. I love Touya with all my heart as well, and whatever he went through in the past, we can get through it together. I'll be there for him, til death do us part."

Fuyumi just let out a long sigh and tried to put on a smile.

"I can't say I didn't try, but okay. If this is what will really make you happy. Just please take care of yourself and the baby, no matter what. Protect yourself."

She handed you your bouquet just as the wedding music began playing.

"I'll see you at the altar."

She left, leaving you alone. You peeked out the door and saw the flower girls and ring bearers go down the aisle.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and tightened your hands around your flowers.

"Hey, beautiful."

Your head whipped around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash.

It was Touya, standing there in his all-white suit with a purple silk dress shirt opened up to show off his tattooed chest.

"Touya!? What are you doing here, you're supposed to be at the altar!"

"Hmm, the wedding can't start without us, baby. I just wanted to give you something really quick."

He reached into the breast pocket of the suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and a pen.

You watched him carefully.

"What is this?"

"A prenup."

"A what? Touya, I'm not signing a prenup minutes before our wedding! Why are you just bringing this to me now?"

He furrowed his white eyebrows, not liking the tone you were taking with him.

"I'm sorry, but who do you think you're talking to, Y/n? You should know not to ever raise your voice at me. Not even my own mother yells at me, baby doll, and you're damn sure not about to start. Now sign the goddamn prenup or I'm calling all this shit off."

No way! He wouldn't actually call the wedding off, would he? Not after all of your hard work, not after everything you'd been through in the past couple of months.

Your dear aunt had been diagnosed with coronary artery disease a few months ago and hadn't been doing too well. She'd been in and out of the hospital frequently and even had to leave her job because of it.

You begged Touya to hire an in-home nurse to care for her and, after much disagreement, he finally let you.

Why would he do this to you now? Moments before your special day?

With your lower lip wobbling and tears beginning to spill out of your eyes, you took the paper with a shaky hand and signed your signature on the line, initialing where it directed you to.

Touya chuckled darkly once you were done and took it back from you, stuffing it into his pocket.

Why would he make you sign a prenup? You didn't know much about this type of stuff, but usually, prenups weren't good.

However, you couldn't fathom losing Touya or your fairytale life. You were finally getting everything that you ever wanted.

A family.

"Hey, don't cry, baby doll. You know I'll always take care of you, right?"

He moved in to kiss you, his hand covering your bump and rubbing it softly. With his pinky, he swiped the tears from under your eyes, careful not to smudge your face makeup.

You nodded slowly and he smiled at you.

"I love you, Y/n."

With that, he left the room.

—

Five Years Later

Being married to Touya was not at all how you expected it to be.

After quitting your job and becoming a full-time housewife, your life seemed to go into a downward spiral.

While you were dating, you’d found out that Touya and his siblings had grown up in an abusive household where his father beat him, his siblings, and their mother. His mother had had a hard time coping with what she'd been through, so the four siblings had agreed to have her committed to a mental health care facility.

During their childhood, in a fit of psychosis, their mother threw a pot of boiling water on Shoto, disfiguring the left side of his face. An ugly, red-marred patch of skin now covered the once-perfect porcelain.

After that incident, Touya left home and never looked back.

He talked very little about his father, so what you did know, you had to find out from Fuyumi, who still maintained limited contact with their father. Neither Natsuo nor Shoto talked about the man.

Many times, you had tried to persuade Touya to get therapy in order to deal with his past traumas, but he never listened. If anything, he would become completely enraged whenever you would broach the subject.

It also didn't help that Touya was now even more deeply involved in the drug lifestyle.

At first, it didn't bother you as much as it should have, but as time went on things just got worse and worse.

Your son, Takuya, was now five years old and you really didn't want him exposed to the people and dealings that Touya was involved in.

Takuya would ask you many questions:

Mommy, why is Daddy never home?

Who are these strange people in our house?

Why can't my friends come over to spend the night?

Why does Daddy have flour underneath his nose?

Yes.

Touya had been abusing cocaine ever since your third year of marriage.

He said that it helped ease his mind. Made him forget the past.

A knock came on his office door, causing the turquoise-eyed man to look up at it.

"What, Y/n?" He asked in irritation once he looked up and saw you standing there, just staring at him.

"Are you seriously getting high in the middle of the day?"

Spread out over his desktop were multiple, identical lines of freshly chopped cocaine. With a rolled-up hundred-dollar bill, Touya closed off one of his nostrils while he used the bill to snort the white powder into the other.

He did it effortlessly, almost elegantly.

"Touya, really? What if Takuya ever walked in and saw you doing this shit? You know he's getting older now, and he's started asking me questions about your…habit."

Touya didn’t seem deterred; better yet, he most likely hadn’t heard a word that you’d said as he focused on the feeling of the drug entering his system.

“Did you fucking need something, Y/n? If not, then kindly get the fuck out. I’m busy.”

You gave him an incredulous look but bit your tongue and nodded.

“I need you to sign the check for Takuya’s school tuition so I can mail it off today.”

Touya sucked his teeth and sniffled. With the back of his tattooed hand, he wiped his nose roughly.

“Of course, that’s what you always need. Money. “

With a soft sigh, you prepared yourself for one of his rants. On top of abusing drugs, Touya had been diagnosed with, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative identity disorder, and bipolar disorder.

You’d seen him dissociate firsthand, especially when he was high. You figured that the alternate personality that he’d created stemmed from his traumatic childhood. This persona’s name was Dabi, and Dabi was not nice by any means. He was awful, much worse than normal, agitated Touya.

If it wasn’t for you insisting on having genetic testing done while you were pregnant, you’d have never found out what mental ailments your husband had been suffering from.

“Well…if you hadn’t taken my name off of all the accounts, I could have done it myself and not have to disturb you while you’re taking care of business.” You finally snipped. You’d had enough of Touya’s drug abuse, verbal abuse, and emotional abuse.

You had gotten sick of him always taunting you, downplaying you, and making you feel as if you were less of a person because you had left your job, your family, and everything that you knew, in order to cling to him and become his wife.

He made you feel low, lower than the earth beneath your feet, and you had had enough of him.

To pour even more salt into your stinking, infected wounds, Touya treated you like a child.

You had an allowance, you had to call and check in with him anytime you left the house, and he didn’t let you go anywhere without him or one of his guards.

It hadn’t always been like this. No, this behavior only began once you attempted to leave him the first time.

You’d tried to leave Touya many times over the past five years, but your efforts were always in vain. No matter what you did or where you tried to go, he would always find you and bring you back, literally kicking and screaming. After a while, you just decided to give up, telling yourself that you’d never be able to get away from him.

—-

Mmmm

You high, baby? (Yeah)

Yeah? (Hahaha, talk to me)

You want me to tell you something? (Uh huh)

I know what you want to hear

—-

The veins in his neck bulged and he turned on you, turquoise eyes flashing with lightning.

“Did you just talk back to me?”

The blood froze in your veins as Touya stood up, calmly pushing his desk chair back. The wheels screeched eerily across the wooden floor. Touya stomped towards you like a panther, waiting to attack and kill its prey.

“T-Touya- I…”

One hand was all it took to constrict your breathing. Touya held you up like a doll, the muscles in his arm barely flexing as he slammed you against the wooden double doors of the office entrance, making them rattle violently. Your little legs thrashed as you moved your body, attempting to get Touya off of you, to no avail.

“Bitch, how dare you disrespect me, after all I’ve done for you. I took you out of that shitty neighborhood you were living in, took care of you and that fucking brat, took care of your whole fucking family despite them cursing the very ground that I walk on. This is how you repay me? Flapping your fucking lips at me? HUH?!?!”

He yelled directly in your face, making you squint your eyes as spit flew from his lips. His face was so close to yours that you could see up his nostrils, see the white residue from the hit he’d just taken.

If he didn’t let you down soon, you’d pass out. Touya soon realized this, and he let you go, let your body drop to the ground with a ‘thud’ while he stepped back and regarded you without a smidgen of concern.

Your hands flew to your throat as you coughed violently. Your chest burned as you tried to regain the precious oxygen that your lungs had been deprived of for far too long.

—-

You know you want me, baby

You know I want you, too

They call me Superman

I'm here to rescue you

I wanna save you, girl

Come be in Shady's world

(Ooo, boy, you drive me crazy)

Bitch, you make me hurl

—-

"You act like…," you wheezed, then halted to take in a few more deep breaths, "you act like I wasn't somebody before I met you. Like I wasn't on my own, living independently and happily before you came along and messed it all up!"

He must have found your lamentation amusing, because he chuckled, deep in his chest.

"Oh Y/n…when have you ever been independent? Your whole life you've always depended on someone. Your aunt, your family, your friends, and then me. You think you're so special, because what, you went to school and got a degree?"

Said degree was displayed on the back wall of his office. He'd let you hang it there after buying an expensive, mahogany wooden frame lined in real 24k gold for it. A gift for your first year wedding anniversary.

Now the object seemed to offend Touya. He made a beeline for it and snatched it off the back wall before sending it hurling across the room, narrowly missing you before it went crashing against the wall next to the door and shattering.

You whimpered in fear as he began walking back over to you.

Kneeling down so that he was eye-level with you, much like he'd done at your first meeting in the salon, he glared at you with eyes colder than Antarctica.

"How's that degree working for you now, Y/n? You're nothing more than a stupid slut willing to open her legs for the first man that showed her any shred of attention. You're pathetic, and I can't stand the fucking sight of you." He said lowly, the baritone of his voice rumbling in your ears.

You buried your head in your hands, the tears flowing freely down your firearms as you tried to shield yourself from him, from his rage. His hatred.

It wasn't like Touya had never yelled at you before or threw fits when he was high, but this was the first time in five years that he'd ever put his hands on you.

And it would be the last.

"That's it, Touya! I've had enough! You're impossible and I'm finished dealing with you and your issues. I'm leaving for good this time."

Touya laughed at you again. He just kept laughing for a long time.

"That's really funny. Have fun trying to leave me with no money and nowhere to go. You'll be back. You always come back, Y/n, because you can't survive without me."

Your tear-soaked face curled up in disgust; you couldn't believe what this man was saying to you right now.

"Since you're so adamant on leaving though, you can go ahead and get the fuck out."

"Pardon?"

He stood to full height again.

"Did I stutter? Get the fuck out of my house, right now, Y/n."

"No! We're married, which makes this my house, too! You can't just put me out!"

He must have thought that you still weren't getting enough oxygen to your brain, because Touya grabbed you by the arms and hoisted you up.

You kicked, screamed, and clawed at him all the way, almost causing him to drop you a few times, but finally he made it to the large ornate doors leading to the outside of the estate.

"NO! TOUYA, NO! NO!"

—-

They call me Superman

Leap tall hoes in a single bound

I'm single now

Got no ring on this finger now

I'll never let another chick bring me down

In a relationship? Save it, bitch

Babysit? You make me sick

Superman ain't saving shit

Girl, you can jump on Shady's dick

—-

Thank goodness Takuya was at school and not here to witness the scene of his father throwing his mother out of her own house.

"I hate you, Touya! You hear me?! I HATE YOU! You won't get away with this!"

Was the last thing the snow-haired man heard before he slammed the door in your face. You heard all of the locks and the deadbolt click.

With fury, you kicked at the closed door with all your might.

You were kicked out now, with nothing. Not your purse, wallet, clothes, phone, or anything. Only your Apple watch on your wrist, which you guessed might be a bit of help.

Looking down at it, you noticed that it was charged to 75%, which was good. You'd have time to get to a charger.

With an indignant huff, you rushed down the many stairs leading from the house and into the driveway where your car was parked.

It would be a dumb idea to get in and try to drive it, because Touya more likely than not had a tracker installed into it. However, you had an idea.

—-

Don't put out, I'll put you out

Won't get out, I'll push you out

Puss blew out, popping shit

Wouldn't piss on fire to put you out

—-

See, though you had been quite gullible the past five years, believing that your sham of a marriage was pure and true, and that your bastard of a husband was your Prince Charming, you were still a college-educated woman and had plenty of good sense to use.

When Touya started getting high every other day, you began stealing his money and putting it away when he wasn't looking.

Small amounts here and there that you passed off with simple excuses that Touya found to be believable. No way his dumb little housewife would ever think to steal from him.

How wrong he was.

You had accumulated a good amount over the last three years, but when you first tried to leave Touya, he became suspicious of you, thus limiting your access to the money by taking your name off the accounts and giving you a weekly allowance.

How stupid of him.

You took a portion of that money and stored it away every month, in case you ever needed it. In case you finally got the courage to leave Touya and never look back.

The day had finally come.

Pulling up to your sister-in-law's house, you waited for her to come to the door. Looking down at your Gucci slides, you felt embarrassed about the situation that had just occurred.

"Y/n! What are you doing here? What's happened?"

With the look on your face, she immediately knew that something terrible had happened and that her elder brother was more than likely the cause of it.

She moved aside so you could come inside. You sat on her couch and put your hands in your lap.

After swallowing down the lump in your throat, you began to speak.

"Touya…he, um, he locked me out of the house."

"HE WHAT?!"

You had to cover your ears slightly from the sheer volume of her exasperated voice.

"Yeah. We got into an argument and he tossed me out onto my ass like Jazz from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."

Fuyumi didn't laugh at your joke; instead, she gave you a look of sympathy.

"Y/n…I'm sorry you had to go through that…" Her voice began to crack and you gave her a questioning gaze.

"Was he…?" She couldn't even finish the question.

You immediately understood and nodded.

"Yes. He was high."

"And where was Takuya?"

"He's at school."

A sigh of relief from the white-haired woman. "Thank the heavens."

Fuyumi moved from her spot on the opposite couch to come over and give you a tight hug. You sank into her warm embrace and hugged her back, more tears bubbling up as feelings of shame, stupidity, and anger came to the surface.

"It's okay, Y/n. It's all going to be okay. I feel like this is my fault. I should have tried harder to get you to leave Touya. I should have-"

You stopped her from talking by pulling away from the hug and giving her a small glare.

"Don't you dare try to blame yourself for his actions. He's a grown ass man, yet he acts like a child. Don't worry, Fuyumi. This time I'm done with him for good. It's time for me to move along in my life with my child and leave Touya's miserable ass behind. I tried everything to help him and all he did was treat me like shit for five years."

Fuyumi was a bit stunned to hear you speak with so much initiative, but she nodded, nonetheless.

"If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call me or Natsu. We want what's best for you and Takuya. Always."

—-

After talking with Fuyumi for a little while longer, she ended up calling Natsuo over, who works as a mechanic.

With a little trial and error, he managed to remove the tracker from your car. Touya had hidden it meticulously, but he was no match for Natsuo's years of experience with machinery.

You finally bid your brother-in-law and sister-in-law goodbye so you could go and speak to your lawyer before picking up Takuya from school.

—-

I can't get to work on time

Can't believe the words to him I just said

Who the hell argue and fight

Like dogs at six in the morning?

I know it's gonna be some more shit tonight (oooh)

Our pastor's calling, telling me I done went too far,

And I'm sitting round town and my friends can't recognize me

Cause I took a chance on love

It's like, I'm dying (ooo dying)

For you, I gave my heart

And turned my back against the world

Because I was your girl, girl, girl

I done damn near lost my mama

I done been through so much drama

I done turned into the woman I never thought I'd be

I'm ready to sign them papers, papers

—-

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Todoroki, but the prenup that you signed is very much valid. According to this, he really doesn't have to give you anything."

You blew out a frustrated breath. How could you have been such a fool? If Touya wanted to call the wedding off because you wouldn't sign, you should have just let him.

It would have saved you a world of heartache and headache, that's for sure.

"So, there's absolutely nothing that I can do?" You asked the well-dressed man in front of you.

You fiddled with the rose gold, 5-carat diamond aquamarine pear-shaped ring set on your left ring finger.

“What about our son? Did he say anything about providing for him?”

The brunette man pushed his glasses from the bridge of his nose up to his eyes.

“Despite his trying to implement a clause in which he wouldn’t have to pay child support since the child was conceived outside of the marriage, as the child’s biological father he’s still legally responsible for providing for Takuya. Though he could contest his paternity and ask for a DNA test.” He set the paper on the desk and looked at you.

“That slimy bastard…he did everything in his power to make sure that I’d never try to leave him. He’s sick….”

“Again, I’m very sorry, Mrs. Todoroki. I wish that there was more that I could tell you.”

“I just can’t believe this…Touya had all of this planned from the very start. He came to me in a moment where he knew I couldn’t refuse him. He knew that I needed to lean on him at that time and he took advantage of me.”

“What do you mean by 'took advantage of you'?” The man in front of you sat up straighter in his chair, slightly leaning his body towards you.

“Well, I never expected that Touya would ask me to sign a prenup. He never made it a priority to discuss how we’d do finances; he just always said that he’d take care of me. Which is why it was such a shock that he made me sign the prenup minutes before I was about to walk down the aisle to marry him.”

“He asked you to sign a prenup minutes before your wedding? He coerced you and didn’t even give you time to seek your own legal consultation. I’m glad you told me this, Mrs. Todoroki; this changes everything.”

Could this be it? Could this finally be your way out of this marriage?

“And that’s not all! I was pregnant with Takuya at the time and my hormones were all over the place. My aunt…she’d been very sick as well, and it was just an overall bad time for me. I w-wasn’t thinking straight…I-I just…I just wanted someone to be there for me. I didn’t want Touya to call off the wedding.”

You cursed yourself for crying over this again, but speaking about it out in the open really made you realize how badly Touya had manipulated you. From the very beginning of the relationship he tried to break you down and make you weak for him, and you let him. Your lawyer handed you some tissue from the box on the desk.

No more weakness. No more vulnerability. It was time to be strong; you had a child to raise and he needed his mother.

It was time to fight for what was rightfully owed to both of you.

“Coercion and signature under duress; oh, he’s done for. I’ll make some calls to get this in front of the judge as soon as possible. Don’t worry, Mrs. Todoroki, I’ll handle everything from here.”

—-

You left the law office with a massive weight lifted off of your heart.

Takuya's private school was only a few minutes away if you took the interstate, so, after picking him up, you'd probably just go back to Fuyumi's house for the night.

"God, I hate this bend in the road, it makes me feel like I'm going to fall off into a ditch." You grimaced while holding the steering wheel carefully.

When you were almost around the corner, a black SUV flew past you at top speed and caused your car to lose control and spin in circles several times before crashing into oncoming traffic.

—-

You had to have blacked out from the impact - were you dead?

No, your hearing was still intact. You could hear something in the distance: footsteps.

Your head was bent at an odd angle and you could feel the blood dripping down your forehead.

"Well, would you look at my little broken doll, all bent out of shape. It's a miracle you aren't dead, huh? That was a nasty accident you had."

With you not being able to turn your neck to the sound of his voice, Touya had to step into your line of sight. He looked down into your eyes, his own turquoise ones shining with mirth. They seemed darker, more sinister.

Then it dawned on you.

This wasn't Touya.

It was Dabi.

"W-w-what's wrong…with you…? You're…. you're insane…"

That was the final thing you said before slipping into unconsciousness.

—-

Dabi just watched your unmoving form with an evil grin plastered across his face. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one.

With his free hand, he reached out to stroke your face while his eyes glowed.

"I know you want, me baby. I think I want you, too. I'm here to save you, girl. Come be in Shady's world. I wanna grow together, let's let our love unfurl. You know you want me, baby. You know I want you, too. They call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you."

With a flick of his wrist, he threw the cigarette down and the entire car caught on fire.

—-

You want what you can't have

Ooo, girl, that's too damn bad

Don't touch what you can't grab

End up with two back hands

Girl you just blew your chance

Don't mean to ruin your plans

—-

911, what's your emergency?

"Yes, my wife has been in a terrible car accident! Her car caught on fire and she was trapped inside. I-I pulled her out, but she's unconscious and I think her neck might be broken!

Okay sir, I'm going to need you to get her to a safe location and wait for help to arrive. Avoid moving her anymore and try to keep her neck supported.

"O-okay."

—-

Three Months Later

You ended up with three severed vertebrae in your neck. The doctors still don't know how you didn't end up paralyzed or dead, but at this point it must have just been a miracle from God.

Touya brought you to the hospital under the guise of the distraught husband and no one seemed to suspect anything.

Except for Natsuo, Fuyumi, and your lawyers.

Your family was just grateful that you were alive and didn't think to question how the accident may have occurred, though Touya didn't get away completely scot-free.

Your lawyer was the number one accusatory figure when your divorce case went to court. He argued that Touya had been following you, tracking your phone, and was angry that you were finally filing for divorce from him.

That you were going to actually leave him this time.

Touya had an amazing defense lawyer that continued to play him up as the distraught husband; Touya knew what he was doing when he decided to stay at the scene of the accident and "help" you. Your other lawyers and Touya's went toe to toe in the courtroom for days.

—

Caroline, Caroline

See Caroline, all the guys would say

She's mighty fine, mighty fine

But mighty fine only got you somewhere half the time

And the other half either got you

Cussed out or coming up short

—-

The jury was at a deadlock.

It wasn't an easy fight. More days in the courtroom with you sitting there in a neck brace, your body bandaged beneath your clothes from the burns you sustained in the fire.

A miracle that you were even alive.

Finally, after two weeks of court, Touya was convicted of attempted murder.

His defense lawyer tried to go for an insanity plea which was supported by him staying at the accident scene and bringing you to the hospital afterwards.

The prosecutor argued that Touya, though aware of his mental illness, never sought the proper help and continued to mentally and emotionally torture and abuse his wife.

These claims were supported by Natsuo and Fuyumi, who both agreed to testify on your behalf since you couldn't speak up for yourself due to spousal privilege.

More deliberation, more waiting.

At last, there was a breakthrough.

The insanity plea fell through and Touya finally decided to just plead guilty.

—-

Regardless, we don't want to get involved with all them lawyers

And judges, just to hold grudges in the courtroom

I wanna see your support bra, not support you

—-

He was called to the witness stand, where he told all the grueling, gritty details of the past five years of your marriage. As much as he didn't want to let you go, he just couldn't bring himself to drag this battle out any farther. After hearing his testimony, the jury found him guilty and he was sentenced to fifteen years to life in prison.

So now, here you are, sitting in front of the man that you once loved with all of your heart.

Dressed in an orange jumpsuit, wrists and ankles shackled, Touya regarded you with a downtrodden expression.

"Y/n… I'm sorry for everything that I put you through. I just want you to know one thing: I'll always love you and my son."

With a dry chuckle, you shook your head.

"I don't think you know the meaning of the word love, Touya."

You pushed the divorce papers with your wedding rings situated on top of them towards him and nodded up at the guard standing behind him.

The elder man unlocked Touya's wrist cuffs so the inmate could sign his name where required. He didn't even read over it.

The shackles went back on immediately, and, with one last look, the guard escorted Touya out of the room and back to his cell.

—-

The sunshine was bright on your face as you walked out of the prison. A funny thought crossed your mind and caused you to giggle out loud.

For years, you'd felt like a prisoner under Touya's watchful gaze.

Oh how the tables have turned.

—-

I know you like to think your shit don't stank

But lean a little bit closer, see

Roses really smell like booo-booo-ooo

Yeah, roses really smell like booo-booo-ooo

—

a/n: i feel like i was starting to drag this out, so I just had to hurry up and end it 💀 i still think it came out pretty good though! i had to do a lot of research for the legal part and i still don't think it's all correct, but oh well! i ain't no damn lawyer/judge!😂

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justforbooks · 2 months ago

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Quincy Jones

Musician, producer and arranger who had global hits with Michael Jackson, was the first black composer to find acceptance in Hollywood and won 28 Grammys

From the 1980s onwards, Quincy Jones, who has died aged 91, was best known for his production and arranging work with Michael Jackson, not least because his efforts on Jackson’s album Thriller helped make it one of the bestselling albums in pop history. But the superstar glare surrounding his work with Jackson tended to conceal the fact that there were many more layers to Jones’s abilities.

He worked with jazz stars such as Count Basie and Dizzy Gillespie, became a friend and collaborator of Frank Sinatra, and developed a flourishing career as a composer of soundtracks for film and TV. He enjoyed success under his own name in styles ranging from big-band jazz and swing to pop, soul and funk. He became an influential music business executive, a successful entrepreneur in film and TV production and launched the music magazine VIBE.

He was born in Chicago, the son of Quincy Jones Sr, a carpenter and semi-pro baseball player, and his wife, Sarah (nee Wells), a building manager. His parents divorced, Quincy Sr remarried, and the family moved to Bremerton, Washington, during the second world war, then to Seattle. Quincy Jr began playing the trumpet and singing in a gospel quartet at the age of 12, and when he met up with the teenaged Ray Charles, also based in the Seattle area, Charles encouraged him to take an interest in arranging. A course at the Berklee College of Music in Boston set Jones up for his first professional job, in 1951, with the bandleader Lionel Hampton.

His experiences on the road with the Hampton band were an eye-opener. “You couldn’t stay in white hotels, and to me, coming from Seattle, a lot of this stuff was like a slap in the face,” he said. “Back then, all the black bands had white bus drivers so they could eat, ’cos you couldn’t go into white restaurants. Even in Philadelphia, they had segregated hotels.” Jones left Hampton in 1953, having accompanied the band on a European tour and rubbed shoulders with a remarkable lineup of musicians including the trumpeters Clifford Brown and Art Farmer.

He set about making a living writing arrangements for jazz luminaries including Basie and Tommy Dorsey. Although Jones put in a stint as musical director for Gillespie’s ensemble in 1956, he was aware that the days of the big bands were numbered, and rock’n’roll was coming. “In a funny way, Lionel Hampton was one of the bands that was serious with a rock’n’roll sensibility, before we even knew what the word meant,” Jones said.

During 1957 and 1958, Jones based himself in France and Scandinavia. He continued to study composition – notably with Nadia Boulanger, mentor of Leonard Bernstein and Aaron Copland, among others – and took a job with Barclay Disques, the Paris-based subsidiary of Mercury Records. While in Europe he formed a star-studded big band of his own, and spent two years touring Europe and the US. He wrote material for Count Basie, and during the late 1950s and early 60s worked as an arranger and music director on recording sessions for vocalists including Billy Eckstine, Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Washington and Sarah Vaughan.

In 1964, Jones won his first Grammy award, for his arrangement of Basie’s song I Can’t Stop Loving You. He also produced four million-selling singles for Lesley Gore, including the US chart-topper and UK Top 10 hit It’s My Party (1963). His hectic career was matched by an equally eventful private life. In his memoir Q: The Autobiography of Quincy Jones (2001), he described how at one point he was dating five women at the same time.

His burgeoning profile was boosted by collaborations with Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr and Andy Williams. Jones’s association with Sinatra produced the albums It Might As Well Be Swing (1964) and Sinatra at the Sands (1966), both featuring Basie’s band. Jones and Sinatra became close friends, Jones later writing that Sinatra was “hip, straight up and straight ahead, and above all, a monster musician”.

Jones’s track record gained him entry into the lucrative fields of film and television, and he became the first black composer to find acceptance within Hollywood. Throughout the late 60s and 70s he was commissioned to write scores for more than 30 movies and hundreds of TV shows. Among his better-known film projects are In Cold Blood (1967), In the Heat of the Night (1967), The Italian Job (1969) and The Getaway (1972). The theme from Ironside is his most instantly recognisable effort for the small screen, but his compositions for The Bill Cosby Show, Sanford and Son and his Emmy-winning work for the miniseries Roots proved enduringly popular.

As the 70s wore on, Jones displayed his instinct for moving with prevailing musical trends by immersing himself in funk and disco music. His album Body Heat, from 1974, featured the Brothers Johnson as the rhythm section, and Jones subsequently produced bestselling albums by the Brothers Johnson themselves.

Despite undergoing surgery to deal with twin brain aneurysms in 1974, Jones continued to work at a furious pace. He produced chart-busting albums for the disco queen Donna Summer and soul diva Aretha Franklin, and he found another musical soulmate in the guitarist George Benson. Their collaboration on Give Me the Night (1980) – the debut release on Jones’s Qwest label – was another career benchmark, the album reaching No 3 on the US album chart while the title track was a No 4 single.

Meanwhile Jones had hits under his own name. He had a US Top 30 success with Stuff Like That (1978), and in 1981 scored a Top 10 album with The Dude, which spun off the Top 30 hit Ai No Corrida (No 4 in the UK), and the Top 20 hits Just Once and One Hundred Ways, both featuring James Ingram. In 1998, the hit movie Austin Powers prompted a revival of Quincy’s 1962 hip-shaker, Soul Bossa Nova; it was also used as a theme for the 1998 football World Cup in France.

Jones first met Michael Jackson, then aged 12, at Davis Jr’s house, but it was not until Jones was working on the soundtrack for the film The Wiz (1978), starring Jackson and Diana Ross, that he was invited to produce a Jackson solo album. This was the 20m-selling Off the Wall (1979). Their collaboration continued with Thriller (1982) and Bad (1987), the trio selling 100m copies between them. In between, Jones was also the natural choice to produce the 1985 charity single, We Are the World, co-written by Jackson and Lionel Richie and performed by the all-star USA For Africa to benefit Ethiopian famine victims.

Jones was a pivotal figure in helping musicians take control of the business side of their work. Like most other musicians, he had grown accustomed in the early years of his career to having his royalties and copyrights appropriated by unscrupulous publishers or record labels. “If you write a song, the publishing is 50% of that,” Jones explained. “They would say: ‘I want 50% of your creation’, so that means you get 25%. That was normal.” He began to see the light when he took a job as A&R man at Mercury Records in New York in 1961. Within two years, he was made a vice-president, making him the first high-level black executive of a major record label. “I’d lost so much money when I had my band [the Jones Boys] in Europe that I had to go with a record company. That’s when I said: ‘I’d better pay attention to the other side, because it is a music business.’”

After moving from Mercury to A&M Records he launched Qwest, which became home to such varied artists as New Order, Milt Jackson, the Winans and Tevin Campbell. Qwest also did excellent business with the soundtracks to Malcolm X (1992) and the rap-generation movie Boyz N the Hood (1991).

Growing into the role of entertainment mogul, Jones co-produced Steven Spielberg’s film of The Color Purple in 1985 and produced its soundtrack. In 1990 he teamed up with Time Warner Inc to form Quincy Jones Entertainment; in 1991 he helped create the NBC television series The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, which launched Will Smith on the road to superstardom; and in 1993 he set up VIBE. He headed a consortium of businessmen that formed Qwest Broadcasting, which purchased TV stations in Atlanta and New Orleans.

Jones won an Emmy, 28 Grammys and three Special Grammy awards, including the Grammy Legend award in 1992, was given the Sammy Cahn lifetime achievement award from the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1989, and was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2013. He was showered with honorary doctorates, Time magazine declared him one of the most influential jazz musicians of the 20th century, and in 1990 he was made a chevalier of the Légion d’honneur, promoted to commander in 2001.

He was celebrated in the film Listen Up: The Lives of Quincy Jones (1990) and the documentary Quincy (2018), directed by his daughter Rashida.

Three marriages ended in divorce. He is survived by a daughter, Jolie, from the first, to Jeri Caldwell; a daughter, Martina, and son, Quincy, from the second, to Ulla Andersson; two daughters, Rashida and Kikada, from the third, to Peggy Lipton; and by a daughter, Kenya, from a relationship with Nastassja Kinski, and a daughter, Rachel, with Carol Reynolds.

🔔 Quincy Delight Jones Jr, musician, producer, composer and arranger, born 14 March 1933; died 3 November 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Quincy Jones #in memoriam

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successfulblackparenting · 4 months ago

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New Studies Reveal: All Parents Face Toxic Stress, Racism Exacerbates the Burden for Black Parents

Recent studies highlighted by the U.S. Surgeon General and the American Psychological Association (APA) show that while parental stress is a widespread issue, “41 percent of parents say that most days they are so stressed they cannot function and 48 percent say that most days their stress is completely overwhelming compared to other adults.” The U.S. Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Mental…

#African American parent magazine #African American parenting #African American parenting magazine #African American parents #Black children education #black parent magazine #black parenting #Black parenting magazine #black parents #community resilience #coping with parental stress #family support networks #Mental Health Disparities #overcoming racial bias #racism and mental health #stress in Black families #successful black parenting #successful black parenting magazine #systemic inequality

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omarera · 1 year ago

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So so proud of Omar. I am so happy he is let in to new types of media. SvD and DN are the biggest national morning news papers in Sweden. He has been in evening papers and might be silly but I am glad he is covered in these papers. And now also Hellenius Hörna and Så mycket bättre. Thank You TV4. Now let’s hope national radio stations let his music in as well.

Here are some bits of the interview in SvD. It resembles his Sommarprat and nothing new for us really but a really nice interview with a nice tone in it and it will reach many households in Sweden that still has morning papers…

He talks about where he was a few years ago from the interview and I think it’s beautiful that he opens up about feeling lost, experimenting and on his journey to get to know himself and feel confident being who he is and that he also dares to vocalize his dreams. Remember that Jantelagen is strong in Sweden and vocalizing such big dreams is not usual. His journey continues!! I so want for him to reach his goals❤️

They start off with his FO&O and talk a out his bringing and his mom and dad and moving to Sweden.

One thing he hasn’t touched so much on before is how being known so young affected him:

“It was the sickest thing I've ever been through. It was both a kick and very scary to break through, especially when you were alone in town or going home on the bus. I was up in Stockholm and felt very watched. It was an emotional rollercoaster.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Every single person my age has known about me since I was 14 years old. It has been very intense and probably affected me in different ways. I've probably become more shy and stick mostly to my friends that I've had for many years.”

(We know he always pick stay home and that he is very close to his friends and has a circle of friends he feels safe with. And then about after FO&O)

“I released a few singles, but then the pandemic came and everything was put on hold. That's when it started.

Omar Rudberg puts one hand in his baggy leather jacket pocket and looks out through the Connection Hall in the Slaughterhouse area, where we met on a cool autumn afternoon.

“I was incredibly lost. Both in my professional role and in myself. I had no idea who I was or what I was going to be, what I liked and didn't like.

He set out on an experimental journey.

- I tried to find myself and started hanging out very intensively with friends. We hung out every day and became almost like a collective. It was incredibly fun and above all nice to see people who were in different ways.”

(I also liked this part where he talks about his creativity: )

“In the new homeland, the song and dance continued to be palpable, as did Omar's wild imagination. By the age of eight, it was so intense that his parents took him to a child psychologist.

- What they reacted to was that I didn't need toys. I could just enter another world, be chased by dinosaurs or have the worst action movie in my head. But I wasn't crazy, the child psychologist noted, just a child.

The creativity and musical gift can be traced to the grandmother and the mother. Early on, the latter ensured that Omar participated in talent competitions, often with success.

(And then more in creativity and using it to find yourself)

- My friends and I started trying different types of clothes. We played music and got dressed up. Some tried to put on makeup and nail polish. I really experimented. Those who are not in the know immediately think that a guy who wears make-up is gay or transgender - that bothers me. Make-up should not have to have an orientation, it should be for everyone. Now I wear black eyeliner when I feel like it without being ashamed.

Playing with the outside became a way to find home more in one's inner self, and the fact that Omar was named Best Dressed Man of the Year by the magazine Café this spring is something of a receipt for that.

- I have realized that I have to feel comfortable, stable and free with who I am if I am to be able to move forward in life. Clothes clearly play a role in that. They can also help me get into a certain character more easily.

(There is more text in YR and Karusell but he gets back to: )

“Although it is as an actor Omar has become known in recent years, it is the music he wants to focus on the most in the future. A few days ago, the new single Off my mind was released and tonight is the premiere of this year's So much better on TV4, where Omar is one of the participants.

Perhaps the participation will also be revenge for Omar as a solo artist.

- Yes, I hope people are reminded that I'm actually a singer at heart, it's music that I love the most. I'm looking forward to releasing an album eventually and especially to playing live.

A decade has passed since Omar Rudberg first broke through, when I ask what he thinks life will look like in another ten years, he first laughs at the thought of being 35. Then comes the answer:

- I want to have done the sickest gigs, have had several hits and be out on a world tour. I want to be in a Latin American TV series or movie and for my own company to be worth an incredible amount of money. I will not buy a Lamborghini, but a nice apartment for my mother so that she can be free as a bird. I want to give back everything I got from her.

He runs his hand through his slightly wavy hair and walks over to the mirror to get ready for the photo shoot.

- I would never have dared to have it this way a few years ago. Thankfully, I am much more confident in myself now.

You're not as lost anymore?

- No, I have grown a lot in recent years and now I feel stable enough to take myself forward in life. But I'm probably not quite there yet, the journey continues …

Translated bits from: Elin Liljero Eriksson - 23 oktober 2023 SvD Magazine.

#omar rudberg #SvD

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cartermagazine · 1 year ago

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Today In History

Sarah Breedlove–who later would come to be known as Madam C. J. Walker–was born on December 23, 1867 on the same Delta, Louisiana plantation where her parents, Owen and Minerva Anderson Breedlove, had been enslaved before the end of the Civil War.

This child of sharecroppers transformed herself from an uneducated farm laborer and laundress into one of the twentieth century’s most successful, self-made women entrepreneurs.

Her hot straightening comb, conditioning compounds, and other hair and skin care products made her the wealthiest Black woman in America.

CARTER™️ Magazine

#carter magazine #historyandhiphop365 #carter #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #history #cartermagazine #today in history #staywoke #blackhistory #blackhistorymonth #madam cj walker

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cowboythighs · 1 year ago

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steve harrington found success at a young age, quickly making a name for himself in hollywood.

eddie munson runs a community theater.

their paths don’t cross until they’re meant to.

⬇️a steve-centric steddie ficlet below ⬇️

(cw: addiction)

——————————

It's 1977 and Steve’s leaving home. He’s landed his first acting role at 10 years old when he’s chosen to play an orphan on a popular show about life on the prairie. It's not a main role—just for one season—but he’s excited to be on one of the most popular shows on television.

It's 1977 and Steve’s sent to live in LA in the care of his agent while filming. His checks get sent back to his parents in Indiana.

He's happy to help them—he really is—but it’s a lot of pressure, knowing that his parents and his siblings are depending on him to survive. And he loves acting! But when his contract nears its end, he’s excited at the prospect of returning home.

He wants to sleep in his own bed; wants to spend his summer practicing with his best friend Tommy so they can be ready to try out for the school basketball team together in the fall. So when his agent tells him that the show wants his character to return next season, he politely tells him thanks but no thanks.

He's already got his bags packed. He's called Tommy and made plans to start training the day after he gets back to Hawkins. He’s ready to go home—wonders if his mom will make his favorite (breakfast for dinner) for his first meal back home.

He calls her to ask, but before he can, she brings up the contract. She talks about how his dads having trouble finding work—how much of a help it would be if Steve would renew his contract—stay in LA just a bit longer. Cries and says if he doesn't, she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to feed them all.

So Steve unpacks his bags, calls Tommy to cancel his plans, and renews his contract. Things don’t get better as time goes on. There’s always another show, a better offer. And there’s always a reason why he can’t go home—daddy can’t work, mommy can’t make the kind of money Steve can.

So he stops asking. Takes job after job; keeps his schedule packed so he can make enough money to support his family. He becomes a heartthrob as he progresses into his teens. Starts landing leading roles in movies that make magazines plaster his face all over their covers.

He finds out when he turns 17 that he’s broke. That his parents hadn’t invested his money like they’d said they would—had blown it all on bad business ventures (his mom) and gambling (his dad).

It's 1984 and his face is on billboards, he’s the star of three different summer blockbusters, and he’s broke.

His agent helps him sell most of his assets-the house in Malibu and the sports cars-helps him trim down his team to the bare bones and hires an attorney to ensure that final strings between Steve and his parents are cut.

He's 17 and for the first time in 7 years, he doesn’t have anyone to provide for but himself. He'd worked hard for so long, and now he was ready to play hard—make up for lost time. Instead of going home after a day of filming he’d go out to clubs he shouldn’t be allowed into with a group of young stars that also wanted to party.

It was the most fun he’s ever had. Steve was pretty sure he's almost happy. He's young, he has friends, and he’s a household name. Everywhere he goes there’s someone smiling and calling his name.

But it turns out he isn’t much better than his parents when it comes to managing his money. The big fat paychecks from the movies don’t ever seem to stretch far enough to cover the spending he does. It’s 1985 and he’s still in the red.

He takes the next job he can to help pay off his debts. He wasn’t enthused about the project, but it was supposed to be a guaranteed hit that would’ve been enough to put him back in the black—but it flops. And so does the one after that.

It's 1986 the party drugs Steve used to do for fun turns into a habit.

The name “Steve Harrington” used to carry a certain connotation in the business. hard-working, solid, dependable. They called him a workhorse. Everyone wanted him to work his magic for the camera, but they also praised him for being a good person off screen—a real team player.

It's 1987 and the name “Steve Harrington” has a stench that lingers around it. Unreliable, always late, often too high or too hungover to function. Another Hollywood's darling becomes a cautionary tale. The job offers dry up, and he can’t afford to pay his team or his mortgage. It seems like the nail in the coffin for his acting career.

It's 1988 and Steve’s back on the covers of magazines—pictures of his mugshot and the rehab facility the courts ordered him to.

It's 1989 and he has a handful of new mugshots to add to the collection.

It’s 1990 and his friends won’t call him back. His agent has dropped him and all he has left is a dingy little apartment in NoHo and a pack of debt collectors intent on squeezing every last dime from him.

It’s 1992 and Steve’s 25 when rehab finally sticks. It's his fourth time in almost as many years and he’s so tired. The twelve steps don’t feel so much like bullshit anymore, but more like a life raft in the middle of the ocean. He clings to it. And this time, it works for him.

It's 1994 and Steve has a job waiting tables at a diner and he thinks it’s the hardest work he’s ever done. It's the first time he’s been proud of himself in years. The clientele is older, so he doesn’t get recognized often. He likes that. It's easier that way.

It's 1995 and he makes enough money to move to a better neighborhood. Closer to the diner. Further away from the bad memories trapped in his old apartment. Benny's Burgers becomes his sanctuary. He met Benny in AA—he’s not Steve’s sponsor (Benny’s best friend is), but he keeps him straight. It helps.

It's 1995 and Steve’s happy. He has a cat. Has a bike that he takes up to Griffith park on his days off. Riding makes him think of his friend Tommy back home—wonders if he ever made the basketball team. He has dinner every Sunday with his sponsor, Jim, and his family.

Steve has regulars at the diner now—people that know his name (and his cat’s—James) and care about him. It's nice. One of his favorites is Wayne. He always asks after James (sometimes brings a little bag of treats or a toy for him) and leaves Steve a nice tip.

It's 1996 and Steve’s 29 and he’s happy thinking the world has forgotten him. He's almost at the end of his shift when Wayne walks in one afternoon. He sits in Steve’s section and tells him his nephew will be joining him. Steve’s excited to meet the man who Wayne’s spoke about with so much pride for the last two years.

He sets Wayne up with a coffee and goes back to the kitchen to knock out some of his side work. He gives it a few minutes before he pokes his head out to check—sees a man around his own age sat across from Wayne. He grabs a pot of coffee and a glass of water and makes his way back to their table.

It's been a while since he’s seen it, but he knows the recognition in the man’s eyes when Wayne introduces Steve to his nephew, Eddie. He wants to sink into the floor when Eddie says far too loudly, “Oh shit—Wayne, your Steve is The Steve Harrington??? From The Detention Club?” Steve hates the way people are turning to stare.

Steve makes an excuse—tells Wayne he forgot he needed to check on something in the back. Hears Wayne as he’s walking away, asking his nephew, “Do you know him?” He doesn’t want to hear Eddie’s response. Takes longer than he usually would in the kitchen before he calms his nerves and steps back out.

He tops off their coffee, nervous to look up. Manages to avoid eye contact while he gets their orders and disappears back to the kitchen. He convinces his coworker robin to take their food out for him so he can hide a little longer.

When he can’t wait any more, he goes out to check on them. Asks if there’s anything else he can get for them.

“Steve,” Wayne waits until Steve looks at him. “My nephew owes you an apology.”

Steve tries to wave him off—say there’s nothing to apologize for.

“Oh yes there is,” Wayne interrupted. “He’s obviously made you uncomfortable. But he promises he’s not gonna go blabbling your business to anyone else. Don’t you, boy?”

Steve glances over to find Eddie nodding his head rapidly.

“Scouts honor! Sorry if I freaked you out. It just threw me off because I'm used to seeing you on my bedroom walls—not now! Obviously—but back when I was a kid. It doesn’t matter,I just mean it was just exciting seeing you in person. But I won't tell anyone I saw you here- I'm sure it gets annoying, people trying to harass you all the time.”

Cautiously, Steve allows a little relief to settle over his anxious nerves.

“Not really,” Steve smiles. “Most people have forgotten about me at this point.”

“How could anyone forget you?” Eddie asked.

Steve shrugged. “I'd rather be forgotten than remembered for some of the stuff I've done. It’s easier to be an anonymous server in a random diner than a guy who had the world in the palm of his hand and managed to fuck it all up.”

It’s not the last time Eddie comes to the diner. Sometimes he’s with his uncle. Sometimes he’s alone. If they're not busy, sometimes he asks Steve to join him. Sometimes Steve does. He'll pick at Eddie’s fries and listens to him talk about the play he’s writing for the community theater he runs.

Steve’s not sure why he does it, but he asks Eddie if he can read it. Eddie’s thrilled—brings him a copy a few days later. Tells Steve he’s welcome to give Eddie feedback.

Pages in hand, Steve starts to doubt himself. He talks to Jim.

Steve worries that reading a script will trigger something in his brain that will undo years of hard work on his sobriety. Jim tells him to trust himself; tells him he can come over early on Sunday—before their regular dinner—and read it in the Hopper’s living room, where he can listen to the kids playing down the hall and smell Jim and Joyce cooking in the kitchen and be reminded that it’s not 1987 or 1990 and that he’s alright.

Steve does. He reads Eddie’s play. It's brilliant. It makes him laugh and cry and he finds himself making notes in the margins like he’s going to be the one performing it.

Eddie beams when Steve says he loves it. Invited him down to the community theater to sit in on auditions with him. It sounds painful, to Steve—an entire day watching amateur actors who will undoubtedly butcher Eddie’s work.

He's wrong. It’s one of the most exciting days he’s had in fifteen years—maybe longer. There are so many talented people auditioning—each with unique interpretations of Eddie’s words.

It's magic.

It makes him itch to be up there with them, auditioning.

He can’t. But his heart is quietly pulled towards the stage.

He gives Eddie his opinion when he asks for it. Helps him decide who would be a fit for what role. It's exhilarating.

It’s 1996 and Eddie asks him out for drinks. Steve says no. Asks him if he’d rather get pizza instead.

It’s 1996 and Steve’s 29 and there’s still cheese in his mouth when Eddie–with grease on his lips–leans over the pizzeria table to kiss him. He’s 29 and he thought he’d lost everything but is starting to realize he likes what he has now more than anything he’d ever had before.

It’s 1997 and Steve’s reading Eddie’s latest play. He's falling in love with a character and almost wants to scream because of how badly he wants to play it. He looks up to where Eddie’s been watching him. “Tristan.”

Eddie nods. “He's for you. If you want- when I wrote him, all I could think about was you playing him.”

It’s 1997 and Steve’s acting. He's on stage and it’s opening night. His family—Jim and Joyce and their kids, Eddie and Wayne, Robin and her girlfriend Chrissy—are in the audience supporting him.

It’s 1997 and Steve Harringtons is finally home.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things ficlet #steddie ficlet #cowboythighs #cw addiction #crossposted from my twt

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