#we can never go back ! time is moving forward ! so many years have passed !

[sophsbookstore]

Floral Encounters

Charles Leclerc x Florist!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Word count: 1340

A/N: lmaoooo i've been gone for a really..really long time…but guys we are so back! New year, new fanfics that need to be written. Requests are still very much open if you have anything you wanna see, sorry for the absence and happy reading!! <33

The little flower shop nestled on a quiet street in Monaco was a peaceful haven among the hustle and bustle of the city. Inside, the soft scent of roses and lilies mixed with the gentle hum of classical music playing from an old speaker in the corner. The owner, Y/N, was behind the counter, arranging the last few bouquets of the day. She loved her shop, the routine of it, the way it allowed her to be surrounded by beauty every day. But most of all, she loved the chance encounters—those small moments where someone new would come in, buying flowers for loved ones, or sometimes for no reason at all.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when he first walked in.

Charles Leclerc.

He had been a familiar face on the streets of Monaco for years, though Y/N had never had the chance to meet him. She had seen him in passing at a café or two, but nothing that could spark a conversation. She couldn’t say she was a huge fan of Formula 1, but she knew enough to recognize the man who had become a hero to so many in the city.

He stepped into the shop, the doorbell chiming as it swung open, and for a moment, Y/N was taken aback. She quickly composed herself and flashed him a friendly smile.

“Hello, can I help you with anything?” Y/N asked the man in front of her

Charles paused for a second, as if processing her presence. His green eyes flicked over the shelves filled with flowers, before landing on her. His lips curved upward in a small, charming smile.

“I need a bouquet,” he said, his accent thick but easy to understand. “Something... for my mother.”

Y/N nodded, stepping forward to guide him. “We have a variety of roses, peonies, maybe some tulips... what’s the occasion?”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “No real occasion. I just wanted to do something nice for her.”

The simplicity of it made Y/N’s heart flutter a little. He wasn’t here for a birthday or an anniversary. Just because. That kind of thoughtfulness was rare. She tilted her head slightly, studying him for a second before offering a suggestion.

“Well, if you’re looking for something elegant, I’d recommend a mix of white roses and lilies. They’re classic, timeless.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if he was amused by the suggestion. “Timeless, huh? I like the sound of that.”

Y/N gave a small laugh and picked out a few stems, expertly arranging them in a hand-tied bouquet. “The lilies symbolize purity, and the roses... well, they symbolize admiration and love. Perfect for a mother, don’t you think?”

He leaned against the counter, watching her work with an intensity that made her feel a little warmer than usual. “Sounds like you know your flowers,” he said with a grin.

“I’ve been doing this for a while,” Y/N replied, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she wrapped the bouquet in parchment paper. “You get to learn a lot when you’re surrounded by them every day.”

When she was finished, she handed him the bouquet. “Here you go. I hope she loves it.”

Charles took the bouquet, his fingers brushing against hers for a moment, sending a small jolt through her. He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, he looked down at the flowers, his expression softening.

“I’m sure she will,” he said quietly. Then, as if thinking of something, he added with a teasing smirk, “You’ve made this a bit hard to top. Do you take requests?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”

“I might need you to help me with another bouquet next week,” he said, his gaze lingering on hers just a little longer than necessary. “But... this time, it might be for someone special.”

Y/N grinned, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I’d be happy to help,” she said, her voice lighter now, more playful. “Maybe I’ll even throw in a little extra flair for someone special.”

Charles gave her a wink and turned toward the door. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said with a laugh before leaving the shop, the bell above the door ringing again.

The days turned into weeks, and Charles kept his word. Every time he raced in Monaco or elsewhere, he would come into the shop, often with a similar request. Sometimes it was for his mother, sometimes for a friend, and sometimes, he hinted that it was for someone else entirely.

After a particularly thrilling race where he finished second, Charles returned to the shop, his eyes practically glowing with excitement. He was still wearing his racing gear, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how different he looked outside the car—his intense, competitive energy replaced with something a little more... relaxed.

“Back for more flowers?” Y/N asked as he entered, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

He nodded, though there was a certain hesitation in his usual confident stance. “Yes, but this time, I’m celebrating something special.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, walking over to him. “Oh? What are you celebrating?”

Charles paused, glancing around the shop as if to gather his thoughts. Then, his gaze landed on hers, and a flicker of something unspoken passed between them.

“I’m celebrating getting to see you again,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, but hearing it now, in such a direct way, made it feel like something new.

Y/N smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. “Well, that’s a good reason to celebrate.”

He grinned, stepping closer to the counter. “I think so.” He leaned in just a little, lowering his voice. “What do you think? Another bouquet, just to make it official?”

Y/N considered him for a moment, her fingers brushing against a vase of lilies nearby. “I think you’re getting pretty good at this... but how about we make it even more official?”

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Her smile widened, and she set down the flowers she was holding. “How about you let me buy you dinner?”

He blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback for a second. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted into a grin. “You’re asking me out?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Y/N teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Charles chuckled softly, his eyes not leaving hers. “Not at all.” He leaned forward just a bit more, his voice quieter. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

Y/N’s heart raced, but she didn’t let the excitement show too much. “It’s a date, then,” she said with a wink.

The dinner was set for a few days later, at a small, intimate restaurant by the harbor. Charles showed up in a simple button-up shirt and jeans, looking effortlessly handsome. They shared stories over a bottle of wine, laughing at each other's jokes and enjoying the easy, warm atmosphere between them. The night ended with a stroll along the water, hand in hand, both of them silently agreeing that it was the beginning of something new.

Charles looked at Y/N, his expression soft. “You know, I’ve been to Monaco many times, but I think this is the first time I’ve really felt like I’m home.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “Well, I’m glad I could be a part of that.”

“I think you’re going to be part of a lot of things in my life,” he said, his voice sincere.

She couldn’t help but smile at the thought, her heart full. “I’m looking forward to it, Charles. I really am.”

And as the stars twinkled overhead, they both knew that this was just the beginning.

[leporinelou]

nostalgia will hit you like a freight train and you just have to carry on like nothing’s happening

[xervn]

melatonin | 2

two-shot | enemies to fuckers sevika x reader

pt. 1

ao3 link

summary: the aftermath.

18+ MDNI | 3.5k words | tags; canon divergence, sevika is a little mean, reader is a brat, angst?, very light sub/dom, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, porn w/ plot-ish, no use of y/n

i rewrote this so many times, but here we are... mama i made it..

It’s not what you were expecting. It’s not how you saw things moving forward—not at all. 

Anyone would agree that you two shared a passionate night. Sevika fucked the insomnia out of you. 

So how’d she manage to make you hate her more?

When you woke up, Sevika was on her side of the room, adjusting her deep red poncho. She noticed you were awake and went straight to barking orders at you and proceeded with her thousandth attempt to get you to follow her schedule, which never worked.

It was as if last night didn't happen, and it was all a lucid, raunchy dream with deep moans you could still replay in your head. However, you woke up missing more clothes than you remembered taking off, so you knew that wasn't the case.

You decided to pass her crankiness off as stress, since it was a big day and all, but she only seemed crankier after the meeting. 

Don’t be fooled; you aced it. Your negotiating skills have always been top tier, and you’re incredibly personable, especially with good sleep on your side. You were so buddy-buddy with the Bilgewater traders, they invited you to their pub that night for drinks and karaoke. Exactly your style, a fun offer, but you declined. Declined because you were positive Sevika was going to give you congratulatory sex. Wrong. She gave you nothing but pure silence. 

You can hear hints of humor or sarcasm weaved into words, but you can’t hear any of that in silence. Was she mad at you? Jealous of you? Annoyed by you? 

It reminded you of when you first met Sevika, a time when you tried super hard to impress her, but everything you did ticked her off. You were so good at making friends with clients; total strangers, but not Sevika, even after months of trying. It hurt especially more since you had a massive crush—one everyone but her knew about; Ran still teases you about it from time to time. 

When you think back on it, you’re embarrassed. It shouldn’t have taken you a year to finally get on her case about it, but when you did, there was less judgmental silence and more words. Not the nicest words, but at least it created a semblance of balance—honesty that wasn’t outweighed by one-sided affection. But after that meeting, it was like it all reverted to square one. Silence and one-sided affection. 

That triggered you. 

So, what was it that you were expecting? Marriage? A gold medal? 

No, it was something much simpler. Kindness. The smallest amount of chivalry would’ve made you swoon, but she didn’t give you any. She continued to be the dickhead you were used to, and what did you do? 

You continued to be the dickhead she was used to, obviously. Amplified it even. There’s no such thing as being the bigger person in your dictionary. Not for this. If there’s anything you were bigger at, it was being a bigger cunt. If she was going low, you were going lower—and you stuck to it.

-

Days after the trip, you still haven’t talked to Sevika out of solidarity with yourself. Nothing but surface-level words have been exchanged between you two since that day. No witty remarks, no unnecessary teasing, no fruitless arguments. 

To be fair, there’s nothing you want to talk about. You’re too upset and ashamed. At the time, you couldn’t even discard the little dignity you had left to ask her to “help” you one last time because she factory reset you, and you slept like a baby all night. 

That is until now. Sevika’s magic has worn off, and you’re falling back into your regular routine of staying up late and getting wasted so you don’t have to watch the sunrise for a third time in a row. It wouldn’t be such a bother if you weren’t thinking about her every single night. 

Or during the day when someone says her name and the hairs on your arms stick up. Or when she’s a glance away and your body starts to think you're in a sauna. 

It was undeniable; you still have a crush. As obnoxious as the day it blossomed. You hate it. You should be hating her now more than ever, but your heart is fucking you over, and you’re sleep-deprived and pent up on top of it.

You’ve found yourself fantasizing about and craving a woman that has most likely moved on. It’s pathetic, and it shows you have no backbone, meaning it’s only a matter of time before you do something you will regret forever. 

You couldn’t back down, not after your dramatic promise to yourself that you weren’t going to let her play you again. 

Thankfully, fate graced you with an opportunity to redeem yourself. Silco put you on another short trip back to the port city, and he assigned Sevika to accompany you—expecting her to, since he didn’t bother to call her to his office because of how often you work together.

That meant the ball was in your court, so you did something neither you nor Sevika had ever had the guts to do.

You protested. 

Well, you lied. You told him that Sevika didn’t want to work with you anymore and that it’d be better for you to go with someone else. It’s probably not far from the truth anyway, but honestly, you thought he’d give you a speech about life or ask you to tell her to get over it. Maybe even a ‘fuck off,’ but instead he said, “Very well,” and shooed you out of his office. 

So now you’re at a loss because you didn’t think that far ahead. You didn’t really give it much thought at all and figured, realistically, both of you should be happy in the end. You knew it meant you’d see Sevika less, but you managed to convince yourself you were fine with it; that it was for the best.

“It’s probably the best decision I’ve ever made,” you tell Ran, who’s fiddling with the straw in their drink as they listen to you talk. Laughter, drinks clinking, and jukebox music makes for good background noise. “I’m just shocked, y’know? If I knew he’d accept it so quickly, I would’ve asked earlier.” You laugh half-heartedly. 

Ran twirls around the straw in their cup. “Didn’t I tell you it was that easy?”

You freeze. “Yes, but…”

“You still wanted to work with her.” They grin, going in for a sip.

“No! I genuinely thought he’d be against it.." You grumble.

“Right, right… Well, it’s good news then. You should be happy. Maybe we’ll be assigned together.”

Your eyes light up at the possibility. “That’d be great! There’s this pub I wanted to go to, but…“ You trail off when the bar goes incredibly quiet. There are a few whispers here and there, some more frantic than the others.

Loud, heavy footsteps pound against the wooden flooring, and you notice the pace picking up as the sound travels closer to you. 

You’re not allowing yourself to get ambushed at a time like this, so you turn, and, great heavens, there’s Sevika. 

Your chest, down to your stomach, twists uncomfortably. You’re surprised to see her, and she looks irritated to see you. Her face is plain, but there’s still a prominent frown on her lips.. 

“You.” 

You look around, pretending you’re not sure who she targeted that towards. By now, the bar has resumed its chatter, but Ran has moved three seats down. They give you a little finger wave before turning to the bartender. 

You slowly look up at Sevika, pointing to yourself, “Me?” You question jokingly.

“Get up; let’s go.” She gestures for you to start moving.

You laugh sarcastically, turning away from her on your stool. “Fuck off.” 

A large hand lands on your bicep and pulls. You stagger backwards and onto your feet before you fall over. “What the f—? Let go of me!” 

Sevika says nothing and makes her way to the back of the building, forcing you to walk haphazardly through chairs and tables. Your face warms and contorts in embarrassment, given you’re being dragged to who knows where like you’re a misbehaving toddler. 

You begrudgingly follow along, not that you had much of a choice, and she stops in front of a supply closet. 

“Open it.” She commands monotonously.

You don’t know why, but you do it; you open it. You don’t even question it, and you deserve it when she shoves you in there. 

Her mechanical arm whirs as you stumble in, and it makes a short appearance to slam the door behind herself. Then everything turns blurry in a flash, and your back is suddenly hitting the door. 

“What did you do?” She asks through her teeth.

You try to yank your arm free, but she doesn’t budge. “What did I do? Why are you so angry? Can you fucking let me go?!”

“What did you tell Silco?”

Your heart drops, and your expression must’ve shown it because Sevika groans. You interject, “I told him what you couldn’t.”

“And what is that?”

“You don’t want to work with me.”

Sevika looks at the ceiling for strength, shutting her eyes. She takes a deep breath in. “When did I ever say that?” 

“You don’t have to; I can read it off you.” 

Sevika’s eyes suddenly meet yours, and you flinch. “Yeah? What are you reading now?”

You frantically search, and you stutter, “You’re—you’re pissed?”

“Yes, I’m fucking pissed, Einstein. Did I ask you to make decisions for me?” 

God, you have no idea why she’s so mad about it. Your breathing is picking up, and you don’t know if it’s because of conflict or the fact she hasn’t been this close to you in what feels like ages. “No, but you can stop acting like you’ve never wanted to.” 

“Why do you care? If I wanted to, I would.” She states.

“Sure. You must’ve loved working with Jinx then, huh?”

Sevika looks away to sigh loudly. “That’s not the same thing.” 

“Isn’t it? You don’t like me either—“

“What is your problem? Why don’t you just admit that it’s you who doesn’t want to work with me? It’s you who doesn’t like me.” She spits. Her jaw clenches as she calms down. “I’m ‘difficult’ now because of you. I’d like one day—one week—without Silco complaining when I’m doing my best.” She sighs.

Your mind goes blank. “I’m—I didn’t know he’d say that… He seemed okay with it, and I didn’t know you’d be upset.” You utter, completely guilt-ridden.

“I swear—you only think about yourself. Fuck everyone else living, right?”

“What? No, I didn’t…”

“Didn’t think? Do you think?” She exasperates.

It works, and you huff. “I thought you would be jumping for joy. Why aren’t you fucking ecstatic?” You ask angrily.

“Nothing about this is good for me. Or you. Unless you think Dustin can protect you.” She scoffs.

“Dustin? Well… well…” You didn’t think about that. 

You abandon the sentence. “You can be mad, but not this mad. I should be this mad. We did things together. Things you don’t try to forget about, and that’s what you—looked like you did.” You say, correcting yourself because you’ve learned your lesson from assuming things. 

Sevika looks heavily perplexed. “You’re the one who stopped talking to me.”

“No, actually, you are. Not to mention your first words to me the morning after we fucked were, ‘You have twenty minutes.’”

“You had twenty minutes. Did you want a ‘good morning, baby’ first?” She scoffs, shaking her head.

Your stomach does a somersault. “I don’t know.” 

Sevika pauses, making what feels like judgy eye contact with you. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that you acted like nothing happened and went straight to being bossy.”

“Huh. I thought you liked that.” She replies, and there’s something in the way she said it that makes your legs falter.

“When did I ever—“ The air changed, you notice. “When did I ever like that…?” 

Sevika studies your face for a few seconds. The silence is unnerving. It’s like time slowed, because you have no idea when she’ll speak or what she’ll say. “Somewhere between you moaning my name and cumming on my fingers.” She bluntly states.

You choke on your spit, coughing. There were a million different ways that could’ve gone. Most of them sounded like that, but it still caught you off guard.

“What? You said I forgot about it. I’m trying to jog up my memory,” she teases.

You frown, but it comes off as endearing, so much so it makes Sevika awe. “Don’t you want me to remember? I’m remembering.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you acted no different from the day before, and you never, y’know, came to me again after that either.” 

Then regret starts rushing in. You used to curse your friends out when they got back with their shitty situationships. You know what it feels like now. You can’t believe you alluded to sex, let alone wanting it at a time like this, but she did it first, to be fair.

You two stare at each other for several beats. 

“Came to you?” A smile begins to form on Sevika’s lips.

You shake your head, as unconcerned as you can make it. “Shut up. Forget I said anything.“

Her head tilts slightly. She looks you up and down. “I don’t think I will.” 

You exhale loudly, "I'm so serious."

"No, really, tell me what you meant by that. "

"You know exactly what I meant."

She perks an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes in response. She huffs out a laugh.

Sevika swivels you around so you’re facing the door, so fast you have to catch yourself with both hands so you don’t face-plant into it. "What are you—!"

Her flesh hand slides across your waist, and then she suddenly jerks you towards her, making you bend over just enough for you to poke out.

In contrast to how she was manhandling you before, she slowly presses herself against your ass but makes sure to hold her place firmly, like she was planning on leaving a print there, rolling her hips into you as if she doesn’t wanna miss a spot. 

Leaning over you, she whispers, “This is what you wanted, right?” So close to your ear, you can feel her words brushing against it. Your whole body shudders, and all your sexual frustration starts to unravel.

You peer back at her with a glare that’s too clouded with lust to be intimidating. “You’re so full of yourself.” 

“You love it,” She replies, so surely, because you haven’t noticed how desperately you’ve been backing into her, chasing the sliver of friction she gave you a moment ago. She drifts her hand towards your front, and between the legs you immediately begin parting for her. "But I could stop..."

"Don't." You interrupt. You don't have to see her to know she's got on an egotistical grin.

Four fingers feel down your covered cunt, then back up, lingering at your clit with purpose. Your thighs threaten to close around Sevika’s hand, and you pathetically whine out her name. 

She hums questioningly, knowing she wasn’t getting an answer from you. She finds the waistband of your pants, shoving her hand underneath, panties and all. The warm heat and slickness of your wetness meet her palm. “You really love it.”

You inhale sharply, placing your forehead against the door. “ I hate you...”

She laughs darkly, and her fingers part meticulously over your folds, massaging your clit between her fingers. “Is that what we’re doing? I 'hate' you too,” she says, “I’ll show you.”

You moan at that, and Sevika harmonizes. You don’t feel an ounce of shame. All your self-respect left when you opened the door. “Please.” 

Sevika's finger presses against your entrance teasingly. It doesn’t take much longer before she slides two fingers in you; her middle and ring, and scissors them in you so you adjust to the size of them properly. You groan, muffling yourself into the back of your hand. The heel of her palm is so close, yet so far from your clit, and you still need it there. 

It was as if she read your mind. Sevika brings her hand closer, and her fingers curl in you as a result. They slowly straighten out, then curl again, straighten out, curl in, and now she’s restlessly fucking her fingers into you while you needily hump into the palm of her big, scarred hand. All that movement makes it messy, but messy feels so good. 

So much heavy breathing and pitchy whines. You’re trying your hardest not to make noise, but all your best attempts are strained and guttural. It drives Sevika insane. They’re better than she remembered. “Stop trying. Let them hear how much you hate me.” She murmurs against you.

You lightly shake your head, refusing to do something so mortifying yet so fucking hot—in theory. Until cold metal fingers appear under your jaw. “C’mon, baby, please?” She coos.

There’s the first crack in your metaphorical dam. Your legs start wobbling. “Fuck—I h—hate you.” You pant out, not entirely because she asked you to; you were a little upset with how well she threw that pet name in there. 

It makes her chuckle. “You said I never ’came to you,’ but I’ll tell you a little secret,” she says, breath staggering from her constant movement, “I came to the thought of your fucked-out face last night,” she confesses. You sob out her name, and she soothes it with a full kiss on your cheek; so unexpected, you can feel your heart lurch forward. “And the day before, and the day before that, and—you get it, yeah? I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”  

You’re getting closer; pussy tensing, and your heart is racing. So much to process in such little time. “… I missed you.” You breathlessly whisper. You missed her tangents, her nagging, and the dumb fucking arguments. You missed her; it was true, and you admitted it to her before you admitted it to yourself.

“Did you?” She asks softly. You can tell she’s really wondering. Her fingers still haven’t slowed down a bit, however.

“Mhmm—shit—wait.” You’re on the brink of undoing, and you don’t know if you can speak any further.

Sevika presses herself closer to you. “Tell me one more time.” She gruffly demands, like it was a need. It may as well be.

Your anticipated orgasm fills up to the brim; your eyes press shut. “I m—I missed you so,” you come; your moans are barely controllable, and your hips are stuttering against her hand, “s—ugh—much, Sev...”

Sevika’s mech hand turns your face towards her, and your heavy eyes momentarily widen when her lips meet yours in a fervent kiss. She removes her fingers from you, and when you cry at the loss, she slides her tongue across yours—that shuts you up real quick. She leaves her hand there, just so you can grind out your orgasm a little longer. 

Sevika stopped letting her brain control her; she wasn't going to let it get in the way of this. She's been dreaming about kissing you since she realized it was an option.

You didn’t know how badly you needed to kiss her. You weren’t sure you’d ever, but with how perfectly her lips feel on yours, this can’t be the last time. You really hope it’s not the last time.

But you pull away. “What is this...?” You ask shakily, trying to catch your breath.

Sevika’s eyes keep flickering to your kiss swollen lips, clearly drunk on them; she doesn’t understand what you’re saying yet. “What’s what?”

“This. What are we doing? Is it just—just sex like you said it was?”

Sevika zones back in, and there’s a lump in her throat. She can’t say she never said that, because she did. She swallows hard, retracting her hand from between your thighs, and gently turns you around so you’re facing her. 

She says your name, “It has never been ‘just sex.’ It would never be that with you.”

You try to assess the validity of that, staring at her doubtingly. “You ignored me the entire day after.” You mention.

Sevika’s face warms up, and she looks to the side. “I got jealous.”

Your brows furrow. “Of what?”

“You were so friendly with those Bilgewater folks, and it pissed me off,” she grumbles. “Then I got frustrated with myself, because I’m the reason you hate me. At the time, it made sense to go back to how it was before,” she exhales sadly, “I’m sorry.”

You awkwardly play with your hands. Sevika frowns, hoping you say something soon. “The reason why I stopped talking to you wasn’t because I hate you; I thought you did, so I... I don't know what to say other than I’m incredibly petty and childish. I’m sorry—and I shouldn’t have said anything to Silco either.” 

“I wouldn’t let you go without me anyways.” She looks so serious when she says that, but you can’t help but giggle. It’s going to take a while for you guys to get through all your apologies properly, but this is a good start.

“I do prefer you, so...” You add, smiling up at her coyly.

She has a grin—the big win kind—and you gravitate towards her for a kiss, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. It’s much gentler and warmer than the first time. You’re sure there’ll be more where that came from. 

—

“Ran, hey.” You take a seat by them, wanting to wrap things up before you go. Quickly too, since Sevika is waiting.

“Hey,” they reply, eyeing you oddly, “I went to check on you earlier; make sure Sevika wasn’t dismembering you or something, but it sounded super scary in there, like you really hated her, so I ran away…” They pretend to cower in fear before sputtering out a laugh.

“Alright then. Goodnight.” You silently get up and start walking out. Ran’s laughter doubles.

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 4 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

Present

Billy Loomis is Sam’s real dad. . .

Tara’s words and her recount of her conversation with Sam makes all the puzzle pieces fall into place.

That’s why Sam snuck into my room all those years ago. That’s why she changed so much after, and that’s why she left.

It all makes sense now, but it doesn’t change the fact that she hurt Tara by leaving, hurt me by leaving. It also doesn’t change the fact that she wasn’t there for me when I needed her to most. When I begged her to come back and she just screamed at me to stop calling without even letting me explain why I was calling in the first place.

I’m feeling so many things right now, it’s kind of overwhelming, but I try my best to stay calm so I don’t freak Tara out.

She’s been moved to a private floor since Sam left and slept earlier while I called Liam and Paige again. Now, she’s awake once more, curled into my side while we’re watching a movie together.

I really try to focus on what’s going on, but my mind keeps drifting back to Sam.

She could have talked to me! She could have told me about her real dad. Why didn’t she? Did she think I was going to hate her for it? Did she think I would stop being her friend if I knew?

I wouldn’t have done any of that. Who her father is doesn’t change who she is. At least that’s my opinion. She must think otherwise, because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have left.

I’m mad at her for abandoning Tara and leaving me. I’m sad she felt like she couldn’t talk to me, and I’m heartbroken thinking about how she tried to numb her pain by doing every drug imaginable and sleeping with anyone who would have her.

I still love her, that’s for sure because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be feeling like this, but I’m just not sure love is enough for me to forgive and forget everything she’s done.

“Hey.” Tara’s voice and her finger poking my chin snaps me out of my thoughts.

I clear my throat quietly and look down at her. “Yeah?”

“You okay?” she asks, her kind brown eyes darting between my own.

“No, not really, Sprout.” Tara wrinkles her nose and I chuckle. She’s never liked that nickname. “But I will be, and so will you.“

“You sure?” she asks and I nod.

“I’m sure. Now watch the movie, or I’m changing it,” I tease, making her laugh softly.

“Okay, okay. . .” She looks me over one last time before turning her attention back to the movie, mumbling, “You’re so annoying.”

I just hum and scratch her head, settling deeper into the bed and actually focusing on the movie. Thoughts of Sam are still swirling around in the back of my mind, but I ignore them as best as I can.

About half an hour later, the movie is still playing and, much to my surprise, I’m actually invested in the story now.

Some shuffling and a grunt in the hallway outside makes me look away from the TV though. We’re on a private floor and no one but Deputy Vinson should be here. A nurse comes in every two hours or so to check on Tara, but she was just here before we started the movie.

Alarm bells almost instantly go off in the back of my head, but I don’t want to scare Tara, so I stay calm and shout, “Hello?”

There’s no answer.

“Vinson?”

Again, nothing.

My stomach drops. This is not good. This is not good, at all.

“Y/N?” Tara whispers fearfully, the beeping sound of her heart rate monitor next to the bed speeding up.

I swallow thickly and continue to stare at the open doorway, straining my ears to hear anything else. It stays quiet though, and with every second that passes, the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach grows.

“Y/N,” Tara whimpers and when our eyes meet I see the fear I’m feeling inside reflected back at me.

He’s back. It’s Ghostface. It has to be him. He’s returned to finish the job.

I can feel my own heart rate picking up speed, and after another beat of silence, I decide that we have to leave. We’re sitting ducks if we stay.

“Fuck this.” I swallow again and nod to myself before pushing the blanket to the bottom of the bed. “We’re leaving, Sprout.”

Tara’s eyes widen and she doesn’t protest when I disconnect the IV from the back of her hand. For a moment, she’s frozen, watching me disconnect her from all the machines she’s attached to, before springing into action herself.

With shaking hands, she removes the oxygen tube while I get up and pull the nearby wheelchair to the side of the bed.

I won’t be able to do anything with only one arm, so even though it hurts and I know I’m probably going to tear my stitches, I take off my sling.

I wince at the stinging pain that shoots through my neck and arm, but grit my teeth and help Tara with the rest of the wires. Then I make sure the wheelchair’s breaks are on before turning back to the bed.

“We have to get moving, c’mon. I know this is going to hurt, but we have to go,” I say, slipping my arms under Tara’s knees and under her back. I don’t lift her yet though, waiting for her to nod before hoisting her up.

The gasp she lets out makes me hurt for her, but I can’t stop now.

We have to leave.

Carefully, I lift her out of the bed and place her in the wheelchair, making sure I don’t bump her broken leg against anything.

My shoulder protests, screaming in pain even though Tara is easy to lift, but I don’t stop moving especially when the lights suddenly go out.

We have to leave, now!

Tara whimpers in fear and in pain, and I rush to turn off the breaks on the wheelchair before pushing her to the doorway.

He’s here. I know it.

I peek into the ominously dark hallway all while trying not to let panic take over my mind.

Fear is healthy, panic is deadly.

That’s what my father taught me, and I know if we’re going to get out of this alive, I have to keep a clear head.

The hallway is empty, and the only way out is by getting to the elevator at the end of the hallway, so I slowly push Tara out of the room, keeping my eyes and ears open for any movement near by.

Just get to the elevator.

The deafening sound of Tara’s phone ringing on the bedside table back in her room makes both of us jump for a moment.

Tara sobs quietly, and I tighten my grip on the wheelchair.

I glance over my shoulder, seeing the screen of the phone light up the room before turning back around. There’s no time to get it now, and even less time to answer it.

I push Tara into the hallway, slowly and quietly while letting my eyes dart around in the darkness for any sign of danger.

It still eerily quiet though and I don’t see anything, so I continue pushing her until we get to the nurses’ station.

That’s where a chocked gasp claws it’s way out of Tara and when I follow her line of sight, I freeze for a second.

Laying right there on his back on the ground, with a slit throat and a pool of blood around his head is one of the deputies Sheriff Hicks assigned to Tara’s floor. He’s still alive, even though only barely, and chokes on his own blood, his wide eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.

There’s nothing we can do to help him, he’ll be dead within a minute, but still, the sight of him, so helpless and alone, makes the blood in my veins freeze.

That could be me, or worse, Tara.

Stop! Don’t think about that, Y/N. Focus.

My dad’s voice rings in my head and makes me snap out of it. He’s right, I have to focus.

I’m about to continue pushing Tara towards the elevator, but then a thought strikes me.

I pause and look around again before letting go of the wheelchair and crouching down next to the deputy. I reach for his belt, fumbling around until my hand grazes the holster of his gun.

With a gun, we’d at least stand a change against Ghostface, but as fate would have it, the holster is empty. The gun is gone.

Fuck.

Not only does that mean that we have nothing to defend ourselves with, it also means that Ghostface has the gun.

Tara sobs into her hands and watches me get back up, only to flinch and freeze a second later when we hear a door being opened somewhere down the hall.

There’s no time to ponder over the gun and its whereabouts now. I spin around and take a hold of the wheelchair again.

Getting to the elevator now is too risky. It’s too far away, so I wheel Tara into the room right next to the nurses’ station.

We need help.

Tara whimpers and cries quietly while I close the door behind us. I don’t shut it all the way, just enough to hide us from plain sight while still being able to see what’s going on outside. Then, I fumble around for my phone in my sweatpants.

Just like with the gun though, I come up empty, and the realization that it must have slipped out of my pocket while watching the movie makes my heart drop.

No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

My hands begin shaking, and it’s getting harder to keep my panic at bay.

We’re alone with a psychopathic killer, we have no way out, no help is coming, and I’m not in any shape to fight properly.

Tears well up in my eyes and I feel my bottom lip quivering. There’s no way out.

My heart starts pounding in my ears and my hands start shaking.

Please, no. Not now.

I’ve had enough panic attacks after my parents death to know what it feels like when one is about to start, and even though it sucks having them at any time, it would be especially inconvenient right now.

I force myself to calm my breaths and blink away the tears, but it doesn’t help much.

We’re trapped.

We’re alone.

I continue to focus on steadying my breathing while also keeping an ear out for any more sounds in the hallway.

That is until Tara nudges me. I clench and unclench my fists, and look at her. She has tears streaming down her face, but she’s urgently gesturing at something she can’t reach.

I follow the length of her arm with my eyes and almost start crying with relief when I spot the phone on the wall right next to the door.

I lunge for it and start dialing 911 with shaking hands only to stop a moment later when another door opens out in the hallway.

Tara clutches the back of my sweater with her uninjured hand and bites her bottom lip to prevent any more sobs from escaping her.

I flinch when another door gets opened, this time closer by, and hold my breath.

This is it. He’s here.

I lower the phone and square my shoulders, ready to fight when the door to our room suddenly swings open.

Tara yelps and I instinctively punch whoever just walked in.

“Ow!” Richie stumbles back against the doorframe and raises a hand to where my fist just connected with his jaw. “Ah, goddamn it!”

“Richie?” Tara’s pulls on the back of my sweater to get me to step out of her line of sight while I simply stare at Richie in disbelief.

I’m honestly relieved it’s just him, and that he’s here because now we’re no longer alone, but I can’t find it in myself to feel sorry for punching him.

“What are you doing here?” Tara asks as Richie continues to recover from the punch.

“Sam called,” he explains and as he continues to talk, I feel some of the tension in my body dissipate. “She said that you were in trouble.”

He doesn’t look at me when he says it, and the revelation that Sam probably only called about Tara is like a blow to the stomach.

I don’t get much time to dwell on it though because a split second later, Ghosface appears behind Richie, ready to strike with a knife in his hand.

“Look out!” I shout, stepping in front of Tara again.

Richie spins just in time to avoid getting stabbed, but the knife manages to cut his forearm. Ghostface goes in for another stab, but Richie manages to catch his wrist before he can bring the knife down on him.

He grunts and they struggle for a moment, but then Ghostface manages to grab the back of Richies head and slam him into the door frame, knocking him out.

“Shit!” I clench my jaw when Ghostface turns his attention to Tara and me, and quickly grab the IV stand next to us, flinging it at him.

Ghostface goes down because the monitor on the IV stand hits him in the head, and I rush to wheel Tara out of the room.

We’re almost back in the hallway, away from Ghostface, when he suddenly lands a punch on the back of my left knee, making my leg buckle. I stumble and manage to regain my footing without going down, but that little trip costs me a lot of precious seconds.

“Y/N!” Tara twists around in the wheelchair with wide eyes and even though I know Ghostface is now back on his feet and right behind me, it still catches me off guard when he wraps his arm around my neck from behind and punches me in the side, right below my ribs.

“Ah, fuck!” I grunt and grab his forearm, trying to pry it away from my neck, but it doesn’t budge. “Go, Tara!”

Another blow, this time to my ribs, takes my breath away, and even though I’m in pain, it fills me with an unexplainable rage.

Instead of trying to get his arm away from my neck again, I dig my heels into the ground and push backward until we hit a wall. Ghostface hisses in pain and I use the momentary distraction to get out of the headlock.

Then, I run to Tara, limping slightly and ignoring the sound of a phone ringing nearby. She’s crying and struggling to move in the wheelchair, and the sight of the blood soaked bandage around her hand makes my stomach clench.

I’m about to reach her, my arms already outstretched to grab onto the wheelchair, but then I’m tackled to the ground from behind.

My head hits the floor, making black dots dance in my vision for a moment and then my head is yanked up by my hair.

“Hold it right there, Tara,” Ghostface says, the voice changer eerily distorting his voice, “or I’ll slit Y/N’s throat.”

Tara freezes and wheels around in time to see Ghostface press the blade of his knife against my neck. He’s kneeling on my back and I know I have no way of escaping without getting my throat slit.

It stings when he pushes the knife down a little too hard, drawing some blood in the process, but I don’t dare to move.

“Y/N!” Tara cries and I try not to cough because of the weight on my back. “No, please don’t.“

“Tara, go!” I rasp, feeling the edge of the knife dig even deeper into the skin of my neck.

Tara shakes he head desperately, tears rolling down her cheeks. “No, Y/N, I—“

“Do you hear that, Sam?” Ghostface says and at the mention of Sam’s name my heart drops. He must be on the phone with her. “Your little sister and Y/N, begging for each other’s lives. Pathetic, don’t you think?”

Tara makes a move to wheel closer, but I pin her down with a stare to stop her. Go, I mouth, but Tara doesn’t move while Ghostface continues talking to Sam.

I can’t hear everything he’s saying because my ears are ringing, but when he suddenly gets off my back and approaches Tara with calculated steps, I hear him say, “So, the choice is up to you. Who is it going to be, Sam? Richie, Y/N, or Tara?”

Tara whimpers as Ghostface gets nearer, but she’s too injured to get away. She manages to turn the wheelchair around, but Ghostface is right there before she can even attempt to get away.

He grabs the handles of the chair and tips it forward forcefully, making Tara fall and land on the ground with a cry of pain.

No, not her. Not Tara. Please, anyone but her. She’s been through enough.

“Stop!” I groan, trying to get up, but slipping on something sticky on the floor. My shoulder stings and the side where Ghostface punched me burns, but I try to get back up again, and this time, I manage. On unsteady feet, I limp toward Ghostface who’s now standing over Tara.

He twirls the knife in his hand and raises his arm, getting ready to strike while Tara sobs.

“No!” I’m not going to make it. “Tara!”

Just then, the elevator dings and the doors open. Ghostface looks up, surprised, and dives out of the way when gunshots ring out.

My eyes widen at the sight of Sam and Dewey?! who dart out of the elevator.

“Tara!” Sam rushes to her sister’s side and drops to her knees, trying to help her to her feet.

“I’ll get Richie,” Dewey says, but then he freezes when his eyes land on me. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

I wave him off and shake my head, looking around to see where Ghostface went. “Not now, I’m fine. Go get Richie, I’ll help Sam with Tara.”

“Okay.” Dewey nods and stares at me a moment longer before dashing past me to help Richie.

The last time we saw each other was at my parents’ funeral. He used to be like an uncle to me because he was friends with my dad, but after the accident, we kind of drifted apart.

Now is no time to dwell on the past though. I push through my dizziness and the pain in my side, shoulder and leg, and limp the rest of the way to Tara and Sam.

Sam’s already managed to get a crying and whimpering Tara to her feet, but Tara can’t walk with her broken leg, so as soon as I’m within reach I tug on Sam’s jacket to get her to stop dragging Tara to the elevator.

“Stop, let me help.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “Y/N, y-you’re here?”

“Of course, I’m here,” I snap, not because I’m mad but because there’s no time to talk. “Now, let’s get a move on!”

Still in disbelief, Sam doesn’t say anything else as I scoop Tara up into my arms.

“Ow,” she whines and I quickly apologize for hurting her.

I limp to the elevator with Sam hot on my heels and lean against the wall as soon as we’re inside. My legs are shaking and my entire body hurts, but I’m not letting go of Tara until we’re safe.

Sam holds the doors open while Richie and Dewey make their way to the elevator.

They’ve almost made it when, out of nowhere, Ghostface comes back, crashing into them from the side. Richie falls to the ground, and Dewey gets pushed against the wall which makes him fire his gun.

A struggle ensues between Dewey and Ghostface while Richie tries to get back up, and for a moment it looks as though Ghostface’s got the upper hand, but then Dewey headbutts him.

Ghostface stumbles back and Dewey grabs his gun off the ground, firing it at Ghostface before he can come at him again.

He stumbles back at the force of the shots hitting him in the chest until he crashes into the glass display cabinet on the opposite wall.

He sinks to the ground and stops moving, and even though I’m not convinced he’s dead, there’s no time to make sure he is. We have to get out of here as fast as possible.

Dewey must think so too because he gets to his feet and immediately pulls Richie up as well.

“Let’s get out of here,” he grunts, dragging Richie toward the elevator. “Come on, hurry up.”

They finally make it, and Richie slumps against the wall next to Sam who runs her hands over him and checks for any not-so obvious injuries.

“You okay?” she asks, her voice laced with worry.

Richie nods and exhales shakily. “Yeah, you?”

Sam nods. “Fine.” Then she turns her attention back to Tara who’s got her arms wrapped around my neck and is crying into my shoulder.

“It hurts, Sam,” she cries, and I press a kiss to her forehead while Sam takes a hold of her hand.

Dewey pushes the elevator button for the first floor, but before the doors can slide shut, he stops them with his hand and says, “The head. . .”

Richie frowns. “What?”

“You have to shoot ‘em in the head or they always come back,” Dewey explains, stepping back out of the elevator.

Sam gapes at him and asks exactly what I’m thinking. “Dewey, who gives a fuck?”

A forlorn look enters his eyes and as the doors slide shut, he says, “I do.”

“No! Dewey!” I try to step forward to stop him, but as soon as I shift my weight off the wall, my legs start trembling, so I slump back and grit my teeth.

It’s too late.

The doors close and the elevator starts descending. A tense silence settles over us for the duration of the ride, but then the doors open and Richie stumbles out first, shouting for help.

Doctors and nurses swarm us almost instantly and within seconds, a gurney is brought over and I place Tara on it.

She’s okay.

Seeing her being taken care of lifts a huge weight off my shoulders and the relief on Sam’s face makes me smile a little.

She’s going to be okay.

The dizziness I felt before suddenly returns full force now that the adrenaline is wearing off, but I can’t sit down and rest until Dewey is safe, too.

He’s up there all alone. Someone has to help him.

I stumble back to the elevator but a hand on my stomach stops me from entering it.

I look down, swaying slightly, before following the arm connect to the hand all the way up with my eyes until they land on Sam’s face.

Wait. . . Sam?

“Where are you going, Y/N?” she asks, frowning.

I blink to get rid of the irritating black dots growing in my vision and try to push past her. “D-Dewey, he needs—he needs help, Sam.”

“I know,” she says, stopping me again by grabbing a fistful of my sweater. “But you can’t go up there. The police are already on their way.”

“But. . . But Dewey,” I slur. I grasp at Sam’s hand to get her to let go of me which, much to my surprise, she actually does.

It doesn’t last long though because not even a second later my knees buckle and I fall forward, right into her arms.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Sam panics and grabs onto anything she can to stop both of us from toppling to the ground. “Oh my God, you’re hurt.”

I awkwardly slide down her body, bringing her down with me until we’re both on the floor and I’m gasping for air.

“Y/N, hey. . . Hey!” Sam grunts and manages to scramble out from underneath me before propping me up against the wall next to us. “Look at me. What’s wrong? What hurts?” she asks, but I can’t answer. My lungs suddenly feel like they’re on fire and every breath I take makes it harder to breathe.

“What happened? Did Ghostface—“ She falls silent when her eyes land on her hands and when I look down, I see why.

They’re covered in blood. My blood. But. . . how?

I think about everything that happened, and then dread settles in the pit of my stomach when the realization hits.

Ghostface wasn’t punching me. When he “hit” me all those times, he wasn’t punching me. He wasn’t punching me at all. He was stabbing me.

Welp, that explains why my side hurts so much. I thought I was going soft.

My eyes flutter shut and I cough, tasting blood in my mouth.

I guess no one noticed I was hurt until now because I didn’t feel anything until the adrenaline wore off and the blood soaking my clothes wasn’t visible because both my sweater and my sweatpants are black.

“Y/N, hey! Don’t you dare close your eyes.” Sam cups my cheeks and shakes my head slightly to get me to open my eyes again. “We need some help over here!” she shouts over her shoulder before looking back at me.

She’s frantic, more frantic than I’ve ever seen her, and her eyes are filling with tears. Her hands drop off my face and she’s quick to push my sweater up to take in the extent of my injuries.

“Oh my God.” Her voice cracks and when she presses her hands against my side to slow the bleeding, I cry out in pain.

I gasp like a fish out of water, still struggling to get enough air into my lungs, and push at her hands.

“No, stop— Stop!” she protests, desperately pressing her hands against my side again.

“Hurts,” I wheeze and Sam nods frantically with tears dripping down her cheeks.

“I know, I know,” she says, “but I’m trying to help.”

I writhe in agony, but don’t try to push her off again. I don’t think I even could if I tried because with every passing moment I feel weaker.

My eyes are also threatening to close again and when Sam notices, she presses down harder on my side and shouts for help again.

This time, a nearby nurse notices and she springs into action. She rushes over, dragging a doctor with her and tells another nurse to bring a gurney.

I don’t focus on her though. No, I keep my attention on Sam and how she’s desperately try to stop my bleeding.

She’s crying, covered in blood, and on the verge of hyperventilating, but she’s still beautiful.

So beautiful. . .

I cough again just as the nurse and doctor drop down next to me, and when Sam takes her hands away so they can examine me, I give into the urge to close my eyes.

_______________________________________________

Whew! I wrote this in one sitting, and only proofread it once, so please excuse any mistakes I may have made/overlooked.

Tag list: @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @bella423

[logoleptic-since-06]

Every Corner of This House is Haunted

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: Fem!Reader, Marriage in Crisis, Angst, Reader and Nanami are in their 30s, Not Proofread

Chapter I ■ Chapter II ■ Chapter III ■ Chapter IV ■ Chapter V ■ Chapter VI ■ Chapter VII

“I want a divorce.”

The silence after you utter those words pierces through your mind, making you second guess your comment. You don’t want to repeat them, afraid the next time you say the words, you won’t even mean it. Kento simply continues driving, pretending like you never spoke. Anxiety blooms in your chest, so tightening you almost feel as though you can’t breathe.

Once you reach your apartment building and get on the elevator, you give into your nerves.

“Kento,” you call.

He looks up from his phone. “Hm?”

You push back the tears that are so desperate to come out of your eyes. “You heard me.” Your voice is barely a whisper. The elevator rings and he steps out into your penthouse. 

“Kento!” you finally shout.

He turns around with a stern expression masking his face. “What?”

“Please.”

“You’re being ridiculous. There’s no need for you to say something like that.”

Letting out an exasperated scoff, you hear your voice break as you speak. “You cannot possibly be saying that, Kento, when you damn fucking well know we haven’t even talked in ages.”

“Yes, we have,” he claims calmly.

“No, Kento, we haven’t. And see this is the issue– you don’t even realise we may be drifting apart.”

“We aren’t drifting apart.”

“Stop invalidating me like that!” you snap. “You think you’re so mature and you know every fucking thing when in reality you’ve grown emotionally unavailable. You only talk about work, we never go out on dates, and when was the last time you kissed me Kento?”

His demeanour shifts slightly, which makes you wonder if he realises his faults.

“We are both busy, my love.”

“Too busy to even see each other?”

He sighs. “You’re right. I have been neglecting you.” He comes forwards and touches your arms. “How about you give me a chance? Let me take you out on a date tomorrow.”

You look into his eyes, the same ones you fell in love with so many years ago, the ones that feel like an ocean you can happily drown in. He pulls you into a hug and you melt, his arms both your greatest kryptonite and strongest warrior. How could you ever leave him?

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says, his voice as soft as ever. “I’ll make it right, I promise. Be ready at 7pm tomorrow, okay?”

–

The next day rolls in in a matter of moments. As Kento sits behind his desk at his office with his thoughts laminated with guilt, his mind replays the moments you said you wanted a divorce. He had felt his life flash before his eyes, like someone ripped his heart apart from his ribcage. Had he been so blinded by ambition and competence that he forgot to consider the feelings of the reason he breathes?

“Sir?” the voice of his assistant breaks him away from his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“The clients are here, the meeting can start now.”

–

Hours pass in the meeting, but eventually, the deal is finalized. Kento returns to his cabin and relaxes into his chair, satisfied with himself. Stretching out his arms, he finally peeks into his phone that seems to be flooded with notifications from you. Why would you send him so many–

Oh.

Fuck.

He checks the time. It’s 9:42 PM. The meeting had taken longer than it should have. But worst of all, he had forgotten about the plans with you. With shaking hands, he sprints out of his office, maniacally driving to your place.

He stumbles out of the elevator. “Y/N,” he calls out. “I’m so sorry for being late, my love, I was occupied with very important clients.” He goes up to your bedroom and opens the door, expecting to find you there.

“Y/N?” he calls out again when he doesn’t. His heart almost leaps out of his chest as he hysterically moves around the house, shouting out your name and calling your phone. All to only be responded with nothing. 

You were gone.

A/N: Sorry, I was feeling a little silly. 🤭

[dumbkiri]

A FEAST FOR BIRDS

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

When Jason Todd comes back to earth and faces off with his vigilante family along with villains, he settles his problems as much as he could. He reunited with his family, but still kicked villain ass. As the holidays approach, Jason is struck with a range of emotions. An unexpected visitor makes her way in Wayne manor with a child in her arms. Apparently, the child belongs to him.

[ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP]

“I am moving back into Gotham due to some company issues. I wanted to see if Jay can stay at your place for a bit? Maybe spend Thanksgiving with you and the boys? He would love to see his uncles and of course, his grandfathers. It would mean a lot to us if you can do this. If not, I can work around the company with him by my side. One day he will inherit what my father built, and I might as well get him to see his own building. Anyways, please let me know what you think. We miss you and the family a lot, see you soon Bruce.” 

Dick leaned back into his chair and listened to the recent voicemail [Name] left for Bruce. Her voice rang with some truth while it felt like she was hiding something. He fiddled around with one of Batman’s batarangs thinking about the woman. They haven’t seen her or Jay in two years. He had to have missed something in her voice message. He knows it. 

Dick leaned forward and pressed play on the voicemail, listening to it for the fifth time this afternoon. 

“I am moving back into Gotham due to some company issues.”

 This part alone made no sense to him. If his memory serves him right, Bruce and [Name] came to an agreement that he would watch over the [L.Name] Industry allowing her to live her life with Jay. Bruce never mentioned any “company issues” that she brought up in the call. Then again Bruce has Lucius to run Wayne Enterprise, so maybe Bruce neglected her company due to his commitment to being Batman. Although, that still made no sense because [F.Name] and Bruce had a great partnership. 

[Name]’s dad knew who Bruce truly was in the night thus granting Lucius to work very closely with one another. [F.Name] would create technology that Lucius would then make into gadgets for Batman. After [F.Name] passed away, the plans he had were burned to make sure they didn’t get into the wrong hands. Bruce feared to keep the works [F.Name] worked endlessly on and made sure to get rid of everything he could in his archives. 

“Maybe spend Thanksgiving with you and the boys?”

Thanksgiving…that is tomorrow!

“Bruce! Alfred! ” Dick shot up from his chair when the realization hit him. He dressed out of his uniform and into his casual clothing as quickly as he could. Whenever [Name] did drop Jay off for the holidays, she did it the day before so he could spend more time with them. 

A million worries were hurdled at his body thinking back to another Wayne that was present in the house. “Jason, if you can hear me from down here!” Dick huffed up the stairs, “Let’s go out for some lunch! I am so hungry!” Was it a lame excuse for his brother-in-arms, yes. But if he had a chance to spare Jason from seeing [Name], he would do it in a heartbeat. Jason doesn’t know he has a kid, let alone a kid with his ex-girlfriend. 

When Bruce described the relationship between Jason and [Name], he went on about true love. A happiness he didn’t think would surround him when he watched Jason smile at [Name]. The teasing he would do to the both of them like a real parent. Bruce watched them create a beautiful bond at a young age. 

Then when Jason died, Bruce watched the heartbreak crush [Name]’s heart. Dick remembers the conversation between him and Bruce when the news of her pregnancy hit him like a truck. 

..

“She looked at me like I killed him.” 

“Bruce, you can’t think like that. [Name] is just hurting, you said so many times. They were meant to be together.” 

“She told me that she’s pregnant.” 

“W-what? She’s only 16, Jason really- Fuck, what do we do now? We have to support her, you did tell her that right?” 

“Of course, I did. She accepted my help and she told me that she wants us to get to know the child. That she still wants to be a part of our family. So I told her that I will send $4000 to her account every month for any expenses she has. She didn’t accept any more and I didn’t agree to any less. I don’t feel right though.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean that we get to live and see the child Jason made with [Name]. We get the luxury of knowing his child while he rots in the ground. If he knew, do you think he would have left? If [Name] got to him before the fake letter, would he have stayed?”

“Maybe, but at least we can do right by him and support his family. That’s all we can do for him now. It’s okay to cry, Bruce. Loss shouldn’t be associated with shame.”

..

He reached the top of the stairs and cringed at the sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the mansion. 

As casually as he could, Dick entered the living room and heard the echo of two voices at the entrance of Wayne Manor. He sneaked around the couches and furniture thinking someone at the door would catch him from so far away. 

“Who are you hiding from?” 

Dick panicked and spun around to see Jason on the couch reading a book. He heard Alfred welcome [Name] into the manor and he knew the old man would lead her to them. With fast thinking, Dick ran over to Jason and shoved his sunglasses onto his face, “Quick! Wear these and this!” Then he stuffed a black face mask into Jason’s book. 

“Dick, what-” 

“Jason, please!” Dick pleaded and helped put the sunglasses on while Jason reluctantly put the face mask on. Jason wanted to ask more until Alfred walked in with a woman and a child in her arms. Swiftly, Dick pulled Jason’s red hoodie over his head and turned around to greet the visitors. 

“[Name], it’s so nice to see you!” Dick shouted and enunciated her name to get it through Jason’s thick skull. He walked over to the woman and gave her a hug mindful of the sleeping child in her arms…wait, what? Jason squinted behind the sunglasses and observed the child some more which Dick fawned over like some lovesick idiot. 

“Wow, he’s grown so much,” Dick awed at the sight of the child and gently touched the unruly black hair that reminded him so much of the Wayne boys. 

“I’m sorry for the apparent unexpected visit, I did leave a voicemail for Bruce,” [Name] huffed and shifted her child more comfortably in her arms to which Dick reached his arms out to her. Without hesitation, [Name] smiled gratefully and handed her kid over to Dick. She watched Dick whisper to her sleeping son and told him, “We’ve decided to do a road trip instead of flying. Jay insisted that he wanted to see the “world”, but there’s only so much adventure he can handle. He’s going to wake up super excited to see his favorite uncle.” 

Dick’s mind blew up as his eyes looked from Jay to [Name] who giggled at his reaction. “You’re kidding, he said that? I’m his favorite uncle?” 

Well that confirmed to Jason that the kid is definitely not Dick’s. Honestly he’d be pissed if Dick had a child with his ex-girlfriend. There were so many questions running through his head and he wanted to ask them. But the silent glare he got from Alfred in the corner of the room told him to stay put with not a word. 

“Yes, it’s always been you, Dick,” [Name] unwrapped her scarf from her neck and shoulders. Finally her eyes spotted the giant man sitting on the couch adjacent to where her family was at. She observed him quietly and looked down at the book in his gloved hands. Dick nor Alfred introduced the stranger to her, so she took it upon herself to be polite. 

“Hello,” She stepped around Dick and reached her hand out with a courteous smile, “My name is [Name] [L.Name].”

Jason closed his book and stood up from the couch. He towered over her and flashbacks of their time together brought longing in his chest. He remembered everything about her from her smile, to her eyes, to her personality. She hadn’t changed one bit. He reached his hand out and shook hers. His tongue twisted and more questions slammed into him. 

“This is my friend, Lazlo,” Dick chimed nervously, internally cringing at the fake name he gave Jason. 

This piqued [Name]’s interest and she giggled, “Lazlo, that’s a cool name. Can he hear me or speak to me?” She asked, releasing Jason’s hand and quietly whispered the last part over her shoulder to her friend. 

Dick shook his head and said, “He’s actually a mute. Anyways what brings you here to Gotham. Don’t say holiday cheer either.” He walked between Jason and [Name] and took a seat next to Jason's closed book. Meanwhile Alfred dismissed himself knowing that Jason will not be able to say a word. 

Jason sat back in his seat while [Name] sat on the couch across from them. She visibly relaxed in comfort and sighed tiredly, “My mother wants to force a marriage onto me and like some teenager, I ran away. Plus there are some things I have to do at the company. I wanted to see if you guys are okay with babysitting Jay while I dust the old mansion down the street. Haven’t been there in years.”

She laughed and Dick joined her. He shifted Jay into his lap and said, “Of course, we would be happy to take care of the little one. I, for one, missed him a lot. Is the marriage the reason why we haven’t seen either of you? It seems like a lot.” 

[Name] straightened out her back and looked away from his bright blue eyes. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she explained a bit more, “Yes, it’s a reason. The marriage is with a business partner. He’s a bit older than me and has spoken about having a family with me. My mother is ecstatic about more grandchildren, but I am not. There is only one person I truly love and that is Jay’s father. I cannot imagine having children with someone else when Jason is still fresh on my mind. And he gave me a brilliant child to cherish in his memory.” 

Dick could see Jason tense up at the revelation and saw from the corner of his eyes Jason look at Jay sleeping in his arms. The atmosphere grew heavier by the second and he had to do something. Something to appease Jason’s longing. 

“Do you think Lazlo can hold Jay? He knew Jason before his death and-” 

“Of course!” [Name] gestured to Jason, with a kind smile on her face, “I’m sorry for your loss, Lazlo. But I’m going to tell you now, Jay looks exactly like his father.” She giggled and Dick looked at Jason with expecting eyes. 

Slowly, Jason sat up and hesitantly opened his arms up. He wasn’t ready to hold his child while keeping his emotions bottled up. “You can do this, Lazlo,” Dick’s voice reassured him, “He won’t break in your arms.” 

[Name] laughed from her spot and pointed at Dick, “Hey, you were afraid to hold him the first time too!” 

Dick shrugged and argued back, “He was a lot smaller back then.” Then he scooted closer to Jason making the transfer a lot easier for the both of them. In his sleep, Jay immediately snuggled up against Jason’s chest surprising the boy’s mother. 

“Oh wow,” [Name] awed at the sight, “He normally doesn’t do that. Jay only snuggles into me, I’m kinda jealous he’s doing it with someone else.” She gave Jason a fake pout with a teasing tone in her gentle voice. But all he could focus on was the peaceful look on the child’s face. 

This boy is his son. 

Jason pulled Jay closer to his body as his chin touched the crown of the boy’s head. Then he felt a lone tear slide down his cheek. Thankfully he wore a face mask and sunglasses to hide his joy. [Name] spoke the truth when she said Jay looked like him. Jay is his mini-me. 

“So how many instruments can he play now?” Dick asked. 

“He only plays the piano, Dick,” [Name] rolled her eyes playfully, “but he can speak three languages. Sign language being one of them.”

Sign language? Jason thought and picked his head up with interest. He recalls that they learned sign language for fun to talk behind her mother’s back. 

“That’s right, I remember you teaching him. Although, I think he flipped me off once.” 

“Don’t say that!” [Name] laughed. 

“I’m being serious!” Dick shouted back with a smirk on his face. 

Jason leaned back into the couch while Jay fit perfectly in his arms. The boy laid on his chest with his legs being held in a gentle, but protective grip. Jay’s head laid onto his shoulder and Jason could hear the soft breaths that left the boy’s lungs. Soon, the voices of [Name] and Dick dissipated and the breathing of his son lulled him to sleep. 

Jason would do anything to keep [Name] and Jay to himself. Even if that means revealing himself to them in the near future. For now, he’s comfortable with blissful ignorance. 

……

“Mama, can I stay in Mister Lazlo’s arms a bit longer?” 

A tiny voice woke Jason from his sleep and he felt small hands clenching the sides of his hoodie. He blinked his weary eyes open and saw the living room in a dark tint. He forgot he wore sunglasses to hide his face along with the face mask. 

“Jay, it’s time for dinner. You and Mister Lazlo have slept long enough. You both need to eat. And you don’t want Grandpa or your uncles waiting for long do you?” 

“But he feels safe and warm, mama.” Jay mumbled and Jason slowly rose up from the couch, steadying a startled Jay in his hold. He looked down at the child with a funny bedhead and couldn’t help but chuckle at the surprised look on the boy’s face. 

[Name] fixed her son’s hair and looked at him lovingly, “See, Mister Lazlo is ready to eat too. Perhaps you can ask if he wants to sit next to you for dinner?” She looked at her son expectantly and the little boy nodded his head. He raised his arms up and sighed to Jason, 

“Mister Lazlo, would you sit next to me, fuck you.”

The ending part took Jason and [Name] completely off guard and the mother reacted quickly pushing her son’s hands down to his sides. With a scolding shout, she said, “JJ, where in the world did you learn that?” She gave Jay a hard look and the little boy obviously seemed confused. 

“What do you mean, mama? I asked him nicely.” Jay tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner. 

“That last sign, isn’t really- It’s a bad word, JJ!” [Name] huffed and softened her look, “Who taught you that and what did they say it meant?” 

What Jay answered made sense to Jason, “Uncle Damian said that it meant ‘please’. He said to only use it for them and not you though.”

“So Dick was right when he mentioned you flipped him off,” She rolled her eyes then focused back on her son, “Please, don’t use that anymore, it’s really rude. Use the sign for me as please from now on, understood?” 

Jay nodded his head obediently then looked at Jason with bright silver-blue eyes, “Understood, mama. Sorry Mister Lazlo.” 

Jason chuckled and shook his head, signing, “It’s okay, you did great. And yes, I would like to sit by you for dinner. As long as you give me any leftovers you have.” 

Jay giggled and jumped up signing back, “It’s a deal!” The little boy ran off towards the direction of the kitchen and the adults were left on their own. 

“He gets excited to meet new people,” [Name] spoke softly, her eyes warming up talking about her son. “JJ has a heart of gold and he loves everyone he meets like his own family. Especially the Waynes. When his father passed away, I panicked because he wouldn’t have a father figure to be his mentor. Yet Bruce proved me wrong. JJ instantly grew fond of his grandpa and uncles. They all became his father figure, some better than others in different aspects. Speaking of which, I might have to wrestle Damian for teaching Jay that obscene gesture.” 

[Name] laughed at the end and looked at Jason for some approval. He quickly signed to her, “We can jump him together. The demon spawn won’t know what will hit him.”

Just like her son, she smiled and said, “It’s a deal.”

[libraford]

(I have permission to share this.)

Text- from Walking Distance Brewing Company

Happy Pride month! We are here another year to celebrate Pride with you! Thank you for your love and support through a difficult year of slander and harassment. Your support has not just kept us afloat but has made us thrive! Our inclusive community isn’t here just for Pride - we’re here all year. It's not always easy being inclusive in town. The library, community organizations, and yes, even Walking Distance have been targets. In this post, we're going to discuss the attacks against the library and against us. Last June, the library had a pride book display [1]. On July 3rd, (now ex) city councilmember Deb Groat wrote an email to the library at the request of the Union Faith Family Coalition [2]. In this email, she wrote: “I am deeply offended by explicitly sexual material on display in the children’s section of our library. Shame on you and your staff for pandering to any social agenda in displaying reading material to children.” [3] Later on in the email she wrote: “The library may well want to pass a levy in the future, or have input in a community TIF.” [3] On November 27, 2023 - Deb Groat was joined by city councilmember Mark Reams in voting for a TIF that would divert money away from the library for 30 years. Luckily, the extension did not pass. [4] According to Union County Faith Family Coalition’s founder, Mark Reams is a member. [2] Deb Groat and Mark Reams vote together to divert money from the library. Let’s move on to us. In June 2023, we had a drag show. On July 8th, Mark Reams’ wife, Leslie Reams posted on Facebook calling Walking Distance “Little Epstein Island” [5] joining in the same rhetoric spread by the Union County Faith Family Coalition, who nicknamed us, “Walking Distance Grooming Co.” Additionally, on April 15th, 2024 - while on-shift at her job, Leslie Reams called us a “den of depravity bar [that] preys on children,” and called our bartenders and customers, “pedophiles” and “drunks.” Let’s be clear. Leslie Reams, the members of the Union County Faith Family Coalition, and their followers have never called law enforcement (to our knowledge) - something we would expect and want to happen if pedophilia was happening. Law enforcement has never been called, we suspect that even they know that it’s not true. We have heard many rumors, as bad as, “Walking Distance is full of pedophiles” to more innocuous rumors that hurt our reputation. Our guess is that the same people who don’t believe we’re pedophiles, but want to demonize queerness, also know their audience and are able to tone it back to do the damage they can. We saw sales dips directly following Leslie Reams’ statements. We have heard city council members echoing similar rumors. Last summer, we had around 10 citations against the owner’s house and the business from the city and council - none of these citations asked us to remedy anything (except for the one about mowing…oops), and in fact there were instances when the local officials said that we were doing everything right, but they are only reaching out to us because they had so many calls. The year prior, Walking Distance and the owner's house had 0 citations. We’ll never know exactly how much business we lost due to the slander against us. We do know, we lost a lot. Similarly, we’ll never know exactly how much the support of our community has meant. We do know, it meant a whole lot. The support has kept us afloat, and with time, it's made us thrive. We know that we have survived to see another June. And we are ready to celebrate it, in the face of the hate. There would be no pride with no hate. Looking forward to seeing you on Wednesday for drag BINGO; Saturday for drag brunch; and also visit us on Saturday during Marysville Pride. We have more Pride events this week and month, keep your eyes peeled! And even if it's not a pride related event, we are always inclusive. Oh, and there's a city council meeting next Monday, June 10th at 7PM.

[/text]

Here's some photos of the extremely offensive library display:

They haven't given a call to action yet.

So anyways, that's what's happening in a nearby town. Marysville's pride event is this weekend and if you'd like to show up for local queers its going to be a very fun time.

I'm thinking of grabbing some of my local gays and giving them our patronage, of course. Its somewhat unrealistic to ask strangers on the internet to do take a hike all the way to Ohio for drag bingo.

So I think I would just like to call attention to it- if this is happening in our area, its probably happening in yours too. If you were thinking of attending a drag show but were on the fence about it, I think you should. They're a fun time.

Being involved in the queer community can be as simple as attending a drag show. Or going to a silly queer-focused event. Or supporting a queer-owned business. Every little bit of support for your queer community counts!

[ascesabo]

sometimes i want to reach through the screen and shake sabo by the shoulders because. god. there's just so much going on with him.

he's first introduced through the veil of luffy's memories- here he's just another feral jungle kid, sticking it out with ace and luffy, the 'nicer' brother in young luffy's eyes. and then boom. you find out he's a runaway noble trying to escape his abusive, neglectful family- and this changes nothing, they still get to become sworn brothers, but just as quickly as this is resolved, his asshole of a dad takes the three of them hostage. and what does sabo do? he gives up the little sliver of freedom he'd fought for, is willing to become miserable and lonely again if it means ace and luffy are spared. and then he comes home to find that in his absence, his parents have already found a replacement! great!

and he doesn't even get to address how fucked up that is, because stelly runs his mouth and now sabo's too busy trying to figure out how to stop his brothers and their home from getting burnt to the ground. he never gets to give them a proper goodbye- he exhausts himself trying to reach them, but he can't because. you know. he's ten. so where does this leave sabo? ten years old, with nowhere to go- he sets out to sea to try and start over, and for the crime of wanting to escape a terrible life, he's punished with an explosion to the face. he loses his memories, his brothers lose him- and so the cycle continues.

then the army saves him, takes him in; he's essentially a child soldier, with how prodigious of a fighter he is from the get-go. but hey, he thinks he's finally found his footing, even if his past's a blur to him- then it all comes flooding back. in the worst way possible. he sees his brother's corpse and he remembers, but it doesn't matter, does it? he's too late, ace is gone, and sabo's lost ten years of a life he could have shared with his brothers. we don't even know how (if, even) he recovers from this- except for a single passing statement from koala, asking him if he's 'had that dream again' because he'd been crying in his sleep. this is never brought up or addressed again. great!plus, we never do find out if getting blown up at the ripe old age of ten could have left any lasting fire-related trauma; and if it does, what does that mean for sabo, who's pretty much made of it, now?

both of these questions are answered at once- sabo treats the fire as if it's ace. it's ace's legacy he's carrying on, and it's ace he seeks freedom for. he copes by making sure ace lives on in his flames, and how can he ever hate the fire living in him if that fire is all he has left of the brother he never got to see again?

i just have to wonder about him, because he's got so many Issues that just. don't ever get addressed? every time we see him deal with his grief (episode of sabo, his own retelling of events in dressrosa) we never really discover anything about him. i wonder how it felt to finally remember the childhood that eluded him, just to find out he was an unwanted, replacable child. how he feels, living with the knowledge that he could have done something to save ace, that he'd failed to remember the two people he loved the most? i wonder just how terribly that guilt must weigh down on him- because where luffy's already begun to heal, sabo still sees ace in everything he does. his title of flame emperor is a direct callback to ace's final attack in his fight against blackbeard. he talks to his goddamn fire like his brother is still in front of him, which is sweet and heartbreaking and, considering his backlog of unaddressed trauma... incredibly unhealthy. i know these will probably be left unresolved for the sake of moving the story forward- but god, sabo, are you okay?

[kathaynesart]

Bit of a random question, but as a teen I'm curious, what would you want to say to kids of today? Any advice?

Hm... every person's life journey is different, but I don't mind giving a few tips based on my personal experiences! If they can help in anyway then I am glad for it!

Ted Talk below the cut.

Life will always change. YOU will change. You may feel stuck or trapped in some aspect of your life right now and are worried that things will never get better. But they do... it will take time, but you will get there so long as you keep moving forward.

Try not to stress too much. All those things that seem like such a big deal right now... most of them will be forgotten within a few years. So it helps when you feel overwhelmed to step back and not let these little (or even big) missteps take control of your life.

No really, go touch grass. I can not express how important it is to disconnect from social media and just be present in the moment. Going out to a cafe or a park to help you unwind and ground yourself. If life allows, try traveling! Even if it's just a road trip. Get out and see and experience different things because those will be the memories that will stick with you!

Change things up. Even if that's just taking a different path to school or trying a different snack. I find that stepping away from the mundane daily schedule helps bring so much more variety to my life and helps me be more present in the moment.

Be flexible. Especially in your goals and expectations. We're expected at such a young age to choose our destination in life, when it's the journey itself that we should be seeking. So while it's great to have goals, do not make them so rigid that you will deem yourself a failure should they not come to pass. Often times it's the things that surprise us in life that help lead us to opportunities we had never even considered.

Your worth does not come from what you produce, or how many milestones you hit, or how much money you make. It is something you give yourself as you relearn time and time again to love yourself.

Your health is important! It is something we often take for granted when we’re younger but it will mean so much as you age. Also should you feel that you’re ever in pain or unwell, speak up. There are so many instances of people coming to greater harm because they only listened to the first doctor who brushed them off. Seek a second opinion. Know that your body is worth proper care!

Just because you have to grow old does not mean you have to "grow up." Those things you loved that sparked joy in you as a kid? Hold onto them or find new ways to instill them into your life. Keep that passion and remember what fun is! Because you will need it just as much when you're older. It is a major ingredient in the spice of life.

Remember, you ARE special. You may not feel like it... but the fact that you exist is such a mind boggling feat in this vast universe of mostly empty space. While that may be difficult to grasp as we are, stuffed in this tiny jewelry box we call Earth, that does not make any one of us any less special in the grand scheme of things. And in this tiny but overflowing box of treasures, there is no gem that is quite like you. You managed against all odds to come into existence. That is AMAZING. Congratulations! Hard part is already done. Now go shine!

[unabashegirl]

Different 13 — college hs

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: hello everyone,I hope you are all doing well! I wanted to thank everyone who has donated to my Ko-FI "help me pay for medical school". It has really touched me especially how kind everyone here can be. If you are able please please help me. I am desperate. I've run out of options.

If you don't know what I am talking about here is a brief summary: As many of you may know, I’m currently in medical school, only a year away from graduating. Unfortunately, I’m facing a financial hurdle that might prevent me from enrolling this January. My father’s passing due to cancer has left my family in a tough spot, and my mom has been working tirelessly to support me and cover my school expenses. The reason this is so urgent is that if I miss this semester, I’ll fall behind significantly due to changes in the school’s syllabus. The semesters after mine follow a completely different curriculum, meaning I wouldn’t just be delayed a semester—I’d be delayed by over a year and a half. I’ve been thinking long and hard about how I can keep moving forward, and I’ve decided to ask for your help. Any support, whether through donations, or simply spreading the word, would mean the world to me. I’m incredibly grateful to have this amazing community.

--> Ko-Fi link for donations. (You can even donate a $1)

--> Patreon

---> different masterlist <---

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of rape, sexual abuse and physical abuse.

“I am done” Y/N frowned as she shut her book closed. “My brain is going to explode if I continue” Harry smiled as he caressed her back gently. “Can we go get some dinner or something?” She suggested to everyone.

“Keep talking,” Mitch said as he looked up from his laptop. “I am genuinely starving”.

“Can I go too?” Sarah asked, not wanting to interrupt the plans if it was a couples-only plan and she and Mitch had misinterpreted.

“Obviously” Y/N smiled, “I know this place where they sell tacos and burritos close to campus. Does that sound good?”

“So good” Mitch had already started packing, knowing that if he continued studying nothing would stick and he would just be burning neurons for fun.

“I left my car. is it all right if we walk there? Is not that far” They all nodded and started their journey to the food truck that Y/N had pumped up so much.

Y/N had texted James and Sebastian to meet them after their gym session, so she wasn’t surprised to run into them when they arrived.

“There you are” James smiled as he pulled her into a hug. “How was the library?”

“Good” She smiled and hugged him back.

It all happened so quickly that no one in the group had a chance to react. Y/N hadn’t even been able to introduce her lifelong friends to her boyfriend when Brian walked up with his jaw clenched and his eyebrows frowned.

“Look who is here” He smiled as he noticed Harry. Their hands were intertwined, and Harry carried both of their backpacks. “Why are you here, huh?”.

“Brian. Don’t” Y/N hissed she noticed James moving up front to face him. She was nervous about how everything was going to unfold. The last thing she wanted was for a fight to break out between her friends and boyfriend against Brian.

“So, this is what you are fucking, huh?” He poked Harry’s chest harshly, emphasizing on YOU. Harry didn’t say anything and remained quiet. He had no desire to fight. He was also very serene at alarming times.

“You are a fucking idiot” James chuckled as he stepped in front of Y/N and Harry. His body was tense, and he stood proudly with his head up. James had never been a fan of Brian. They were teammates, but Brian always ran his mouth in the locker room and spoke of whomever he was doing. Brian had obviously spoken about Y/N and had referred to her as easy.

“I wasn’t speaking to you. So, I suggest you shut your mouth and get out of my face” Brian commanded him only reminding him of that night. “Before I shut it for you”.

The comment that brought him back to that night. An image and a night that still haunted him. James had been downstairs enjoying a few drinks, celebrating a victory in beer pong. He had also been the first in the room and to think that he had gone to look for them because of a hunch.

--->FLASHBACK<----

People danced against one another to the rhythm of the loud music that made the house vibrate. Sebastian walked past James too intoxicated to even notice him. Earlier they had won a football game which coherently had been celebrated with a party, organized by a sorority. They had arrived with Y/N and like every other party she had disappeared with Brian. James yanked Sebastian by the back of his yellow shirt.

“Bro” Sebastian grind, realizing that it was his best friend. “There are so many hot girls” He breathed then leaned in, “Let’s go get some” he whispered and so his breath fanned James’s face. He could smell the alcohol on him from twenty miles away. Sebastian rarely partied as hard, but he had recently broken up with a girl, which had hurt him severely. James laughed and pushed him back lightly, trying to get his breath away from his face.

“You need a fucking mint. Not a girl, man” James joked as Sebastian threw his arm over his shoulders as they looked through the crowd of people. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked over the loud music.

“Saw her a few hours ago. She was heading upstairs with Brian. Even she is getting some!” James frowned and couldn’t keep his mind from drifting to the stories that people talked of Brian.

“A few hours?” He asked again, but Sebastian was too distracted eyeing some random girl to answer him.

Something grew within James that night. Perhaps it was an instinct of protection. So, since he was far from shy, he started making his way through people and up the stairs to the second floor. He dodged people and pushed them around in hopes to find her. James looked for her one last time when he was at the top of the stairs but there were so people, and Y/N was tiny, that it was useless.

He eventually gave up and walked up the stairs and towards the master bedroom. He didn’t need to search the other bedrooms because he knew Brian was too self-absorbed to settle for less than the biggest room in the house.

James stood outside the door and thought about it multiple times, but something in his gut told him to get into the room. So, he quietly opened one of the doors and found them.

Brian was holding her and not in the delicate matter that she deserved to be touched and handled. He held her by her hair and his fist was in the air, above her, ready to deliver the third blow to her face. Y/N was looking up at him, drowning in tears and blood. Her hands were trying to scratch her way out of his grip, but she was unsuccessful.

In a matter of seconds, James had gripped him by the back of his neck and had ripped him off her like a band-aid.

“What the fuck?” Brian slurred as he was thrown on the floor. James was finally able to get a better look at Y/N. He would never forget how scared and vulnerable she looked. His blood boiled and was quickly on Brian. James’s fist repeatedly met with his face and blood started splattering everywhere. Y/N cried and screamed as she tried pulling James off, Brian.

“SHIT” Sebastian's drunkenness evaporated in seconds as soon as he walked in. There was blood everywhere and not only from Brian and James but also Y/N’s. Her dress straps were down, and the bottom was riddled up to her waist. Her throat was red from the marks made by his tight grip on her. She had arrived in a tan bodycon dress, but now it had a huge strain covering the front and it had been overly stretched by Brian’s brutality.

Sebastian was finally able to get James off, Brian, but not without breaking a sweat.

“Enough” He yelled as he helped him off the floor. “Look at Y/N. She needs us more than ever” James looked up and noticed the crying mess that Y/N was and how broken she was.

“Is he breathing?” James asked as he approached Y/N slowly not wanting to startle her or scare her.

Sebastian kneeled down by Brian and checked that he was still breathing before nodding back at James, who was taking his jacket off just so he could take his shirt off too. He gathered it up and pressed it against her broken nose then pulled on the jacket to cover his naked torso.

“Fuck baby” he hissed as he watched her wince, “What has he done to you?” He whispered as his eyes watered, hoping that it hadn’t happened before. James and Sebastian didn’t expect an answer from her. They just helped her to pull her dress down and pull the straps of her dress up.

“Please take me home” She begged between hiccups. James nodded but stood back. He felt too dirty of his blood to be able to touch her. Sebastian wrapped an arm over Y/N’s shoulder and protected her body as they both escorted her out of the party. James also gave deadly stares to anyone that looked with the intention of asking what had happened.

“How could this happen?” James whispered to Sebastian after they had comfortably settled Y/N in the back of the car and made sure that she was able to lie down. Sebastian sighed and ran his hands through his air. Still very perplexed by the situation. “God only knows what he would’ve done to her if we hadn’t walked in” he mumbled as he started the car.

“I don’t even want to think about it” Sebastian shook his head, hating the evident pain that Brian had caused Y/N. They could tell that Y/N would never fully recover from it.

Sebastian picked her up and carried her upstairs after parking in her apartment. James made sure to prepare her a bath and they both helped her get her feet in the bath before leaving her to her own privacy. They all took their own independent showers and scrubbed their skin until it was red in the hopes that it would wash away the memories too.

“Hi,” James gave her a small smile as he stood by the doorframe. He had thrown on some pajamas that they kept in her house since freshman year.

Most of the lights were already off, except for the light that the TV emitted and her bedside lamp.

“How bad is it?” He asked just as Sebastian sat down by the feet of the bed. She wore a set of matching pajamas; her pair was wet and brushed back. Y/N was finally clean, but her nose worried her. The bruising had started forming and the blood on her lip had dried up.

“I think he broke my nose” Sebastian inhaled heavily, “It wasn’t good a noise anyway” she shrugged, knowing that her parents would probably pay for plastic surgery to get it fixed as soon as possible.

“I’ll call my dad tomorrow so he can check it out for you” Sebastian’s father was a very prestigious plastic surgeon that had applied multiple Botox injections to her mother.

“You need to get some rest.”

“Please stay with me” She was embarrassed, but she couldn’t sleep alone. Y/N made herself in the middle and cleared space for them.

James makes sure to turn off the TV and the lamp. All three lay in the darkness, but none of them said anything. However, none of them were able to catch sleep.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked as he grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“I don’t know” James responded and looked over at Y/N.

“You?” he asked as he ran his finger over his bruised knuckles. He knows her answer before she is able to say anything. James could tell that she wasn’t okay and that she was scared. She doesn’t respond to James but only allows the tears to stream down her cheeks. Y/N cried silently for a few minutes until a soft sob escaped her mouth.

So, James turned to his side and gathered her in his arms. None of them say anything or do anything. James just held her for hours until she cried herself to sleep from exhaustion.

Later, Sebastian woke up in the middle of the night and realized that nothing that they had lived that night had been a dream. So, he joined them and threw an arm over Y/N, hugging her and cuddling her from behind.

--> END OF FLASHBACK <---

“I thought I had made myself very clear when I told you to stay the fuck away from Y/N” James stepped up to Brian, “Were you too drunk that night to remember?”

“I could care less what you want me to do” Brian wasn’t going to walk away without causing a scene. People from the university had gathered around them and were closely listening in. Brian didn’t feel as confident to face James’s anger, but he couldn’t back down. People were watching and to Brian, his reputation mattered more.

“I swear to God that I won’t hesitate to break your fucking face in front of everyone” Their foreheads were almost touching, and Brian tried to stand tall, but James was too intimidating, “Step away and go home” he hissed.

Brian raised his eyebrow and tore his eyes from James’s stare. He noticed how many people were around them. He was considering leaving after he remembered how James had left him that night. Brian was actually lucky that James hadn’t killed him. So, he walked away, leaving them alone.

“What the hell was that?” Mitch asked completely taken back by Brian’s unfriendly behavior. “What a prick”. He laughed.

“Sorry” Y/N frowned as she finally looked up at Harry, who had released her hand midway through the altercation.

“I am James” He smiled and shook everyone’s hand, “I’ve known Y/N since birth” He added watching how uneasy Harry was. James could tell that Harry hadn’t liked something and it had been James’s closeness to Y/N. To be fair, James did have a crush on Y/N, but that was way back in high school. He now loved her, but only as a sister.

“And I am Sebastian” he smiled, “So who wants some tacos?”.

--> chapter 14

[evera-era]

heal me. (pt 2)

ellie williams x fem!reader, pt one here

warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of illness, implied suggestiveness, ellie nurses reader back to health, even more fluff

a/n: eeeee yall i redid this chapter so many times but i think i’m finally happy with it. part 3 will be the last one!

Ellie had found herself much more aware of your existence. It’s been a few weeks since your last conversation, and now, her eyes searched for you almost everywhere she went.

Sometimes she would linger on the streets of Jackson — walking home almost agonizingly slow — for a chance to run into you. If she was lucky, she would find you tending to a crying child, or helping someone cross the street. And if you noticed her, too, you’d exchange a small wave.

She was a little embarrassed about it. She told herself that it’s because she has time to pass, and nothing really to rush home to. But she’s never done this before, and deep down she knows the truth.

It was the sound of your voice that surprised her as she was returning from patrol one day.

“Ellie!”

She quickly turned her head, blinking two or three times before realizing that you were really in front of her.

“Oh, hey.” She says, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. “How— How are you?”

“I’m good.” You eyed her torso for a moment. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

“I, uh, just got back from patrol. Dropped my horse off.” She explains. “Oh, and um… the cut is almost done healing.”

“That’s great,” You beamed. God, even your smile was alluring.

A sharp wind blows across Ellie’s face, and yours. It tousles your hair that you had so obviously tried to brush down. She can’t explain why, but she thinks you look better this way.

A few people passed by as you stood several feet apart, fidgeting shyly. “I figured it was all good when you didn’t come back to see me.” You added, looking down at the ground.

Shit, She thinks. “Damn, wait, I’m sorry—“

“It’s okay—“

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I did, I just…” She scratches her head. “Wasn’t sure if it was right of me to go, like, during business hours.”

You found it intriguing how seriously Ellie had taken the matter. And then you think of something funny in your head, and catch yourself laughing a bit. Ellie watches intently.

“So… you’re trying to visit me after hours?” You joke lightheartedly. “Wow. We’re moving fast already.”

“What?” She asks hesitantly. “Fuck, that was weird, wasn’t it? That’s not what I meant—“

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You say quickly, taking in the way she looks when she blushes. It was cute. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

Ellie scoffs, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her heart had stopped for a second there.

“But…” You begin, and Ellie perks up. “I’m a pretty cool person outside of med clinic, so we could always hang out when I’m off. And I don’t look… shitty.”

Pfft, Ellie thinks. If this is you looking shitty, then shitty looks great on you.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She says quietly. “Uh, are you normally, like, busy, or…”

“No, not really.” You reply. “Most days I’m out of the clinic by dinnertime.”

“Oh.”

The conversation goes quiet again. You were worried; you didn’t want it to seem like an empty promise. So you look off to the side before mustering up the courage to ask.

“How about tomorrow?” You question. “We can meet back up here. If you’re not doing anything.”

She raises her eyebrows. Truthfully, she’s surprised that you asked. It would have taken her a thousand years just to man up and do it. Typical Ellie fashion.

“T-Tomorrow?” She asks.

“Yup. Sound good?”

Damn, you were cool. Ellie looks down, smiles, then nods. Her ears were becoming hot again.

“Okay, cool.” You backed away for a moment before grinning. You break into a slight jog, and she looks back up again. She can see your hand shooting into the air to wave at her.

“I look forward to our date!” You yell during your departure.

Ellie nearly passes out.

—

The next day, Ellie had gone back to the same spot as you said, promptly around dinnertime. But you were nowhere to be found.

Nor were you there the day after that, or the day after that.

At first she was confused. And then she became frustrated — no, annoyed. Why would you act so nice if you were just gonna leave her high and dry?

It’s not until a few days later, when she passes by a group of women on the street, that she discovers why.

“Have you heard about the new girl? The medic?” One of the women asks.

“Yes! I’ve heard she’s great,” The other chimes in. “But she’s been out sick. Stomach bug, they say.”

“Really?” The other replies. “Oh, I hope she gets better soon. The clinic is gonna struggle without her.”

Ellie immediately felt like shit. Here she was, writing herself off from ever looking your way again. And meanwhile, you were stuck at home, not at all by choice.

She had decided if you couldn’t show up to the date, then the date would just have to come to you.

So she spends all afternoon preparing a warm meal for you. She wraps it up carefully, and takes one of her favorite books. She tucks her journal in her backpack, too.

It takes her a while to find your house. It required a bit of asking around, especially considering how you joined the community not too long ago. But Ellie is persistent, and she eventually finds out where you live.

You stayed in a shed that was visibly transformed into a studio apartment. You had planted some daylily bunches along the short walkway leading to your door. A small gesture, but it brought life to your humble new home.

Underneath laid a coir mat. A small hanging plant hung near your porch light.

Ellie swallows softly before knocking three times. Her calloused hands cradle around the round container as she anticipates your answer.

But you don’t. And her heart drops again, as she places another sequence of knocks on your door. She feels uneasy — what if something happened to you?

Her thoughts come to a halt, though, when the door handle jiggles and you sleepily open up.

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief.

“E-Ellie?” You rubbed at your eyes. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“I…” She clears her throat. “I heard you were sick. You okay?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go back to work tomorrow.” You sighed. “God, Ellie, I’m so sorry. We were supposed to hang out that day, and—“

“It’s fine,” She says quietly.

“I spent all day cleaning, and researching... trying to get back on my feet.” You look down at the bowl in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh… it’s bean soup. Made it myself.” She grimaces. “It might not be that good, now that I think about it. I don’t cook often.”

You smile warmly, tugging at the hem of your oversized sweater.

“Thank you… that’s really sweet of you.”

She holds the container out, and you receive it with gentle hands. She shuffles her feet.

“I, uh…” She pulls at her backpack strap. “I brought something else for you, too, if that’s alright.”

“Of course!” You motion for her to come in. “Here, set it down inside.”

You turn, tucking your hair behind your ears as Ellie makes her way in. She closes the door behind her, examining the setup.

Some of your belongings were still in boxes, in the corners of the room. Most of it was unpacked — necessities, anyway.

You had accumulated a stack of medical textbooks during your initial supply run. You also had tons of rags, which she assumes is used to make bandages when you’re at work.

As for your decorations, she finds them intriguing. The rugs and posters you had up on the wall reflected your aura quite well.

“I’m sorry about the mess.” You added, taking the lid off of the soup. “I’ve still been trying to get settled.”

“You’re good,” She smiles. “I like it so far.”

You gleam back at her before beginning to sip on some of the broth. Her eyes widen as she slings her backpack off of her shoulder.

“Oh, right.” Her hand slides into her bag, and emerges with a thin comic book. “Have you ever seen this before?”

You shake your head.

“Savage Starlight.” She pinches the spine with her fingertips. “It’s… a pretty good comic book series.”

“You have more?” You ask.

“I have the whole collection,” She replies. “Back at my place. I’m kind of obsessed.”

You took another spoonful of soup, looking down into the bowl. “That’s really cool… I don’t think I’ve seen a comic book in ages.”

Ellie knew it was probably a dumb move. She had spent years collecting this entire series, and here she was, opening up about it to a stranger. But she wanted to trust you — she wanted to get to know you — and she couldn’t accomplish that without being a little vulnerable herself.

Ellie looks up for a moment, then sets the comic book down on the dining table. You raise your gaze.

“You can read it, if you want.”

“What?” You scrunch your brows. “No way. I mean, that’s part of your collection, right?”

“Yeah, but… you can just bring it back.” She shrugs. “No biggie.”

Truthfully, it was a biggie. Hauling it to your house was an ever conscious decision. But she’s also hoping it would give you an excuse to come see her from now on. If you liked the book, that is.

You sighed and waited a few seconds before looking up at Ellie.

“Let’s do a redo.” You blurt out.

“W-What?”

“Our date.” You clarify. “I wanna do a redo of our date.”

Ellie ponders, staring at you intently.

“It was supposed to be nice, and then I got sick, and I ruined it—“

“It’s fine, I swear—“

“And I just… I feel bad that you’re even here.” You look up at her. “I’m supposed to— to be the medic, yet you’re here taking care of me. We barely even met.”

Ellie looks down at her feet, kicking at the ground. And then, ever so softly, she mumbles:

“I like this.”

The air is still, and you can feel your heart swell in your chest. Just a little bit.

“I liked… coming here, and seeing that you’re okay. Even if it’s just for a day. ‘Cause nobody thinks about how, after everything you do, that you might need some help too. You know?”

She fixates her green eyes on you before resuming. “So just… please don’t say shit like that. Okay? I wanna get to know you.”

You didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. Even if you did, you probably couldn’t. Your heart was fluttering too fast in your chest.

“Shit… It’s getting dark,” She says after a moment. “I might start heading back.”

You nodded, rising from the dining table. You steadied yourself as she began heading for the door.

Ellie’s hand reaches for the handle, but then she pauses, and turns to face you.

“When you feel better.”

Your voice was softer than ever. It was your turn to be confused. “What?”

“Our date,” Ellie comments. “When you feel better, we’ll redo our date. You can come over to my place, and I’ll show you the rest of the collection there. Okay?”

You smiled.

“Okay.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

I'd like to believe - Lewis Hamilton

Alternative sequel to Maybe in another life / When I get to meet you

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of mourning, angst, will make you emotional

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Alternative-ish ending (this was actually my first draft to continue their story, so the happy-ish one is the alternative, sort of).

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

MILD TRIGGERING CONTENT UNDER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

My dearest little one,

Today marks ten years since you should have been here, celebrating another year of life. Ten times the snow has fallen, making everything quiet outside.

They say time heals all cuts, but some cuts go real deep, leaving scars that never quite go away. And I still find it hard to believe that a whole decade has passed.

You'd be so grown now, so full of life and curiosity, brimming with questions and dreams. I often wonder what you'd be like – would you have my stubbornness and determination, or your mother's grace and patience?

Maybe a beautiful blend of both, creating someone truly unique.

I’m going to visit your stone again later today. Leave this letter like every year. I suspect there’ll be fresh flowers, as always, probably from your mother.

She never forgets.

We never reconnected, not like I'd hoped for. But I think about her often.

I searched everywhere for her. I just really needed someone to share the pain with, someone to hold onto while everything fell apart. We tried talking, spilling out all our feelings, but the words wouldn't come out right. Maybe we were afraid of saying the wrong thing or making things worse.

Maybe we were both thinking the same thing – maybe if we'd done things differently, maybe you'd still be here.

After a while, the space between us just kept getting bigger, too big to cross. You see, your mom, she found a way to move on. She built a life for herself, a life where the pain was still there, but it didn't control her anymore.

I hope she's found peace and happiness, something she deserved more than anyone. She was an incredible woman, and I wish I had been the man she needed me to be.

I hope she reads these letters someday, that she understands how much I loved you both, how much I regret not being there when you needed me most.

Maybe one day, when the weight of these years starts to feel a little lighter, I can finally forgive myself.

Maybe then, I can find the strength to reach out to her, not to get back together, but to find some peace, a simple way to say thank you for the love we shared and sorry for the loss that tore us apart.

You know, life has changed quite a bit since I last wrote to you.

I'm with someone, have been for the past four years. She's patient, kind and knows about you. I don't think we'll ever have children though. She's got her own ghosts.

I retired from racing. Shortly after I won my eighth championship with Ferrari. It was a dream come true, but also bittersweet because I couldn't share it with you. I work as a consultant for the team now, just like Niki was for me at Mercedes. You’d have loved him.

It's a different kind of thrill, guiding the next generation of racers, helping them navigate the same challenges I once faced, but it drives me forward.

I’d like to believe you’d be proud of your old man for that.

I sometime wonder if you would have been drawn to racing too, or maybe you'd have found your passion in something entirely different. Whatever it might have been, I would have supported you every step of the way and with all my heart.

I think about the things you'd enjoy often; you know?! The hobbies and interests you'd develop.

Maybe you'd love music, like your mother. She had an incredible ear for it, always humming a tune or singing softly to herself. It’s what got us close in the first place so many years ago.

Perhaps you'd have a knack for building things, creating something out of nothing with your hands and imagination.

Either way, I hope you'd have found joy in the simple things, just like I try and do now.

There's so much I wish I could’ve shared with you. So many lessons I've learned the hard way and would to show you. Life isn't always easy, my little one. It's filled with ups and downs, triumphs and failures.

One of the most important things I wish I could’ve taught you is the value of love. Real love, the kind that fills your heart and soul, and is worth every bit of pain and sacrifice.

I had that with your mother, even if I didn't realize it at the time. She saw right through me, saw the man behind the driver, and loved me for who I was. I'd hope you'd find someone like that, someone who understands and loves you unconditionally.

It might hurt sometimes, but that's how you know it's real. Love isn't always easy, but it's the most beautiful thing.

I would want you to know that it's okay to make mistakes though. I made plenty, and each one taught me something valuable. The key is to learn from them, to grow and become a better person. But each moment, whether good or bad, shapes who you are.

I wish I could have been there to guide you through it all, to help you navigate the challenges and celebrate the victories. My motto has been “Still I Rise” for the longest time and if you wanted it could’ve been yours as well.

Life isn't about being perfect; it's about being true to yourself and striving to be the best version of you.

In the quieter moments I still dream about you, you know. In my dreams, you're a whirlwind of energy, your laughter filling the air. We go on adventures, explore the world together. I teach you what I know, and you teach me about everything else.

Those dreams are my sanctuary, a place where we can be together, even if just for a moment.

Sometimes, I catch myself talking to you out loud, as if you were right beside me. I tell you about my day, about the races, about the world. It might sound silly, but it brings me comfort. It's my way of keeping you close, of making sure you're never forgotten.

Even though we never got to meet, you are a part of me, and I carry you in my heart every day.

You are my greatest loss, but also my greatest gift. You've taught me more about love than anything else in this world.

Sometimes, under a sky full of stars, I imagine you up there with the constellations, looking down at me with curious eyes. And I need you to know that we love you still, deeply and unconditionally.

Ten years old. A whole person with your own personality, dreams, and wishes.

The world missed out on knowing you, and so did I.

But your memory, my precious child, it lives on. It lives on in the way I cherish every moment, every sunrise, every laugh shared with a friend. It lives on in the way I try to be a better person, kinder, someone who would have been a good dad to you.

This letter is my vow written down. A promise that even though you're not here, you'll never be forgotten.

Happy birthday, my sweet child. I hope, wherever you are, you're smiling, knowing that you are loved and cherished.

You are my light, my angel and a part of me. And though the path I walk may be lonely sometimes, I carry you and your mom with me in my heart, always.

With all the love that would have filled a lifetime.

Dad.

______________________________________________________________

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[storm-angel989]

Hello ! I saw your Valentino's daughter fics and they're ⭐amazing⭐

Can u request Valentino with a daughter who also has shitty eyesight ( you can pick any scenario but this could be one if main points in the fic)

Thank you💛

As someone who ALSO has super bad eyesight, this was a fun one to write! I hope you enjoy the scenario- and if you're looking for a different vibe, please feel free to request!

Valentino’s biggest frustration with having an elementary aged daughter was parent teacher conferences. And the first one of the school year was always the worst. Year after year, it never failed. His darling wife would conveniently be out of town that week, or working late or for one of the numerous, annoying, yet totally valid reasons, he would end up by himself, with a notebook of discussion points painstakingly written by his wife.

Without her by his side, what should be a friendly discussion about their pride and joy often felt more like a business meeting. He tried so hard to not take offense to her list of improvements, and bit back any snarky response to comments that even hinted that his sweet little girl was anything less than perfect. So much so that he felt the need to distance himself from the start, lest his emotions get the best of him. 

On the flip side, their concerns about their daughter were front and center, to be brought up first before anything else. This year, the headaches were at the top of that list. And the possible cause was enough to make Valentino’s blood boil. 

“Daddy, I have a headache,” his daughter complained once again over breakfast that morning. Like every other occurrence, he took her temperature, gave her some aspirin and sent her off to school. By the time she was picked up, either the headache was gone or it had gotten worse. But with no fever and no other symptoms they could tell, he and his wife wondered if something else was going on at school. 

The very thought made it close to impossible to keep the business facade on. 

As he tried to bite back the potential accusation, he looked around at the empty elementary hallway.  As a rule, Valentino refused to acknowledge the nostalgic feeling that threatened to wash over him. Though he had to admit to himself, no matter how many years had passed, the scent of stale air and dusty chalk still remained the same. 

“Ah, Mr. Valentino. Come on in,” her teacher greeted him with a smile as she stood up from her desk. “I’m Miss. Tyme. It’s nice to meet you- your daughter is truly a delight to have in my classroom.” She led him across the room and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Please, take a seat.” 

With her friendly nature and off the bat compliment, he felt his anger slowly recede. Alright, Valentino, he thought to himself, you can do this. You can treat this like every other business meeting. Don’t make it personal. 

He took a seat in the too small chair and looked around at the room. For all of the things hell lacked, a decent schooling system for hellborn children was not one of those things. The classroom itself was bright, cheerful and covered in work clearly done by a group of kindergarteners. 

“Before we get started, do you have any concerns you’d like to address?” Miss. Tyme asked.

“Yes, I do.” He leaned forward. “reader frequently complains of headaches in the morning and after school. My wife and I have received numerous calls from the school nurse about the same issue, so much so we gave written permission for the nurse to dispense tylenol at school. I want to know if there is something going on here that could be causing her to not want to come to school each day. Something going on here that could be causing those headaches.” Even to him, his voice sounded sharp. 

To her credit, Miss. Tyme didn’t flinch. She nodded as she spoke, “I’m glad you brought that up, it’s a topic I wanted to discuss as well. Last week, reader complained of not being able to see the board. I moved her closer and she seemed to be much happier and kept up with the class work. I also noticed she’s been progressively holding her papers and books closer to her face. Have you seen that at all at home?”

Her confidence caught him off guard. He expected her to argue against his insinuation, not politely side step it. 

“Her Uncle Vox does her homework with her. I can ask him,” he replied defensively. 

She nodded, “very good. I would like to suggest you reach out to her pediatrician about her headaches and schedule a vision test. While I’m not a doctor, I have seen students with similar concerns who ended up needing glasses.” 

Valentino stared at her. “Glasses?”

She nodded, “of course it’s only a suggestion. Let’s move onto her academics…” she pulled out a thick file, “your daughter is kind, creative and quite bright. She is a joy to have in class. Take a look at this story she wrote….” 

As Valentino reviewed the work with her teacher, he couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that he may have ever so slightly jumped to conclusions. By all the teacher reports, his daughter was well liked, and above average in all subject areas. So where did the headaches fit in? Was she right? Was it vision related? 

Sure,he had glasses, but her mom had perfect eyesight. And when was the last time her pediatrician did a vision test? As soon as the conference was over, and he was safely in the privacy of his limo, he called his wife. After all, every parenting decision they made was done in unison. 

“Vision issues don’t run on my side of the family, but it can’t hurt,” his wife replied after he filled her in on the details. “Schedule her an appointment for this afternoon. She’d be delighted to have some daddy daughter time.” 

Valentino pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can’t just have her come downstairs for this one, mi amore. I actually have to call my ophthalmologist and see if he’ll take her. Or if he can recommend someone who specializes in kids.”

“Like I said Val, it can’t hurt. If not tonight, later this week. Make a day out of it with her, it’s been awhile since either one of us took her out for anything really. And check with Vox and Vel. See if they’ve noticed anything.”

His wife had a point. She spent more time being babysat by Vox or Velvette as of the late with the amount they both needed to be working. It would be nice to actually spend some time with his own daughter. He hung up with his wife and with another phone call, she had an appointment with his eye doctor the next day. Perfect. He texted Vox and Velvette the plan and got a quick response back from both. Vox agreed with the assessment- he had noticed the change in behavior as well. Velvette too, noted that she seemed to be sitting closer and closer to the TV screen. With this knowledge, Valentino sighed. He was certain she would end up with glasses, just like her Papi. 

Later that night, as he helped her change into her pajamas, he told her the plan to keep her home from school the next day. 

“What’s an opthoi…ophi…ophimi…” reader tried to ask. 

"Opthamologist, little one. It’s a doctor that specializes in just checking your eyes,” Valentino replied as he tugged her shirt over her head. He lifted her up onto the bed and covered her up with her blanket before he laid down next to her. “Your teacher noticed you seem to be having a hard time reading the board, so we’re going to have your eyes checked out.,Valentino leaned over and kissed her forehead, “might be why you’re getting such bad headaches all the time.” 

She snuggled into him and buried her face into his side. “Good. Cause my head hurts alot,” she said, “like a lot alot.”

Valentino felt a pang of guilt as he held her. He wished he had thought of this potential cause sooner. Maybe they would already have a reason, and she wouldn’t be in so much pain.

 “I know, bebita, but hopefully this will give us some answers,” he said softly. “Now go to sleep.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Am I going to need glasses like you?” She looked up at him.

Valentino felt a pang in his heart. “Would that trouble you?” 

She shrugged against him. “I dunno. A little. Only one of my friends has glasses. And what happens if I don’t need glasses, and the headaches keep happening.”

He listened quietly as she unloaded her worries and fears, offering reassurance when necessary and silently rubbed her back as she spoke. Eventually, her voice grew softer and he lifted her onto his chest and laid her head against him. He felt her press her head into his chest and he let out a slow exhale as her eyelids fell shut. 

“Whatever happens, pequeño amor, Papi will be right there by your side the whole time. And we all love you so very much.” He felt her breathing slow and dropped the volume of his voice. “Duerme bebe niña papá está aquí. Sleep, baby girl. Daddy is here. Shush…”

With the weight of her tiny body on top of his chest, he closed his own eyes. Eventually, he would be able to get up and get to his laptop to get a little bit more work done, but for the moment, he was content where he was. 

When she came bounding out of her bedroom that next morning, Valentino had breakfast ready for her. Together they ate blueberry pancakes and giggled over the newspaper comics until it was time for her to get ready. 

“Daddy?” She asked as he tied her sneakers. 

“Yes bebita?”

“My tummy feels funny.”

His head shot up and his eyes met hers. Worry played over her features and Valentino relaxed. He could handle her fears. 

“Butterflies?” He asked with a kiss on her forehead. “Daddy’s got you. Don’t worry, my love. It will be okay, I promise.”

He lifted her up and carried her out to the limo. She sat on his lap and watched out the window as he scrolled through his phone. Never did Valentino ever think that a gold wedding band and his daughter on his lap would be his reality, especially inside this limo. 

Now that he thought about it, he should probably consider an upgrade. Or at least a deep clean. 

As the limo slowed down, she grew quiet. 

“Daddy? Will it hurt?” She asked as he took her hand. 

He smiled, “no, bebita. This is Daddy’s doctor too. I promise you you’re safe.”

The fact alone seemed to reassure her. As they went through the motions of the eye doctor, Valentino watched as his little girl seemed to struggle. His heart sank. He knew what the doctor would say before he said it. 

“Bebita, you can choose any frames you would like,” he said as cheerfully as he could once the doctor broke the news. “And if you can’t find one you like, Daddy will tell Uncle Vox to have them made. But choose one to take home today, okay?”

So she searched. Tried on frames. Valentino quietly set aside ones that might be more practical, and ones that fit her face well. She may not love them because of the color, but it would be good for her to have options. 

“Daddy, I want these!” she said suddenly, thrusting a pair of purple, heart shaped glasses into his hand. “Then I’ll look just like you!” 

He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t melt. 

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” he replied with a kiss on her head. He handed the frames to the doctor who sent them to the back to be put together with her prescription. 

Twenty seven minutes later they walked out, hand in hand, reader beaming in her new glasses. 

“Just like you, Daddy!” She said as she hugged his leg. 

He lifted her up and gave her a kiss on the forehead as he brought her into the limo. 

“Yes conejito, just like Daddy.”

As they pulled away, one final thought flitted through Valentino’s mind. 

Like father, like daughter. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything

[merakiui]

time loop angst where floyd is destined to live the same day over and over with you, and he can't understand why that is. it's such an unremarkable day, too. just the two of you living life. it was fun the first few times, but now he's lost count of how many days have been lived in repetition and it's so boring. the only thing that makes it bearable is his little shrimpy. he's happy you're here with him, stuck in this insufferable time loop, otherwise he's sure he'd have gone insane from the repetition.

it isn't until floyd realizes that, outside of the loop, you're gone. you've been gone for years, and you're never coming back.

suddenly, the happy days aren't so pleasant. suddenly, he's forced to confront the very thing he's been avoiding.

the loop will end once floyd finally accepts it and moves on, intending to heal. he's been so stuck in his own head, unable to let go of the ghost of you, that he's put himself in this loop.

the worst part of it is that you don't know anything. the shrimpy he wakes up to every morning is so very tangible. you smile, you kiss him, you hug him. your heart is beating in your chest. you're breathing, alive in his arms like everything's okay.

floyd knows it's not right to stay in the loop, even though he desperately wants to. it'll only hurt him more, but goodness does it feel wonderful to embrace you after years apart. half of him doesn't want to move on. it's difficult to get out of bed when he's grieving. it's difficult to find the motivation to breathe and eat and do everything that often came normal to him before your passing. he has to try.

even when he feels stagnant, crushed and heartbroken, the world is always continuing in its usual current.

he has to try. it's all he can do. move forward and try even when it's a challenge.

the next time floyd wakes his bed is empty. he sits up in a dark room, the curtains closed to block out the sun. someone's been ringing his doorbell for what's felt like hours. he peers around the room. you're not here.

the loops's been broken.

floyd drags himself out of bed. the floor is covered in clutter: trash and dirty laundry and crumbs. he should clean that. you used to gently nag him when things got too messy, and he'd always listen. he's not sure how many days or weeks or months he's lived in the same t-shirt and sweatpants, so it's refreshing when he finally strips them off and showers. he doesn't think much. he moves on autopilot. the water feels nice.

the doorbell keeps ringing. floyd, simmering in his irritation, throws it open, ready to deliver a hard punch to whoever's stupid enough to stick around and bother him on this unremarkable monday morning.

jade stands on the other side of the door, holding a bag from the local bakery and a container of what looks to be homemade takoyaki. azul is just a few inches behind, fidgeting awkwardly on his feet. he's clutching a bouquet. it's a happy one, unlike the many mourning arrangements that were sent by friends and family in the wake of your passing.

floyd blinks at them, confused. "what's up?"

they stare back, owlish. azul clears his throat. "you... you're doing all right?" his tone is careful, treading lightly.

"you haven't been answering your phone," jade adds gently, cluing him in on one of the reasons for their concern and, thus, their arrival.

"oh. yeah, my bad. s'not charged. kinda forgot to keep up with it." floyd cards his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. "didn't feel like talkin' to anyone, so i didn't want anyone callin'."

"would it be okay if we step in? we've brought your favorites."

floyd glances into his apartment for a minute and then back at jade and azul. he steps aside, shrugging. "be my guest."

he's going to try. for your sake. for jade's sake. for azul's sake. for his mother and father's sake. for his own sake.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

sitting at the table, eating takoyaki and chatting about simple, mundane things, floyd feels peace for the first time in years.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Room of Mirrors

WORD COUNT: 3.8K

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, unrequited love, hidden feelings, kissing, SMUT MINORS DNI, house of mirrors, mirror sex, unprotected sex, lots of fluffy at the end,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

*********************************

Ten years was a long time to be in love with someone, even longer if you were forced to be that person's best friend for those ten years but that was your reality. It didn't matter how long you'd tried to hold back your feelings for Yoongi, with each passing day they only grew deeper and stronger. Even when you tried to pick him apart and find icks, it was damn near impossible for you not to be attracted to him and it killed you inside.

It wasn't just because he would never see you as anything more than a friend but because years and years ago, when you were both in college together one drunken Halloween night had led to something you were never going to forget. A night of drunken sex and no regrets on your part. You'd woken up the next morning with a giant smile on your face, rolling over ready to greet Yoongi only to find the sheets cold and empty with no sign of him ever being there except the dull aching inside of your chest as you realised he must have regretted sleeping with you.

After that night it was never brought up again, the subject was never touched upon and Yoongi went on like nothing had ever happened. As if you hadn't spent the most amazing night of your life together and he went back to being your best friend.

"I'm telling you, you're going to love this place. Yn and I come every year," Yoongi told his third date of the week. It was getting closer to the holiday season and so Yoongi was looking for someone to spend it with. You'd seen him do this every year for god knows how long, he'd find someone willing enough to spend the colder seasons with him only to let them go as the new year came around. Maybe it was because he wanted someone to cuddle up to at night or maybe he was just a player but you hated this side of him. Not just because you wanted to be the girl he took back to his place every cold night and cuddle with either.

"I don't really enjoy being scared," Summer shyly said as she flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and glanced in your direction. She seemed like such a lovely girl and you hated how jealous you were that it was her on this date and not you. You weren't exactly sure why you'd agreed to come on a date with Yoongi when you were going to spend the whole thing third-wheeling him,

"I can protect you," Yoongi smirked, grabbing her ass and squeezing it softly the mere action making you want to throw up at the sight of it. Couldn't he keep that shit to a minimum while you were around? The last thing you needed to see was the love of your life fawning over so many other girls.

"Yoongi, Yn is right there!" Summer gasped out slapping his hand away from her ass and moving away, You rolled your eyes a little trying to ignore the aching in your chest as you paid for three tickets to the House of Tricks. It wasn't even a scary attraction, it was just a circus house with different treats inside each room, your favourite place to go was the room of mirrors.

It was the one place that no one could hide and for some reason that really spoke to you. No one could mask their feelings because you'd see it in every single reflection you could see.

"Let's just have fun," Yoongi said as he stood near you, your eyes glancing at him before looking forward again. How could he do this? Bring dates along with you as if you were just one of the guys, did you really mean nothing to him? One night of fun for Yoongi and that was enough to determine you weren't worth anything more than his friendly side...Without even talking to you first.

"Yn, let's go to the magic show...We can leave Yoongi to explore on his own." Summer said, before you even had a chance to protest her she'd linked her arm with yours and began to walk with you in the direction of one of the rooms.

"I thought you were on a date with Yoongi." You mumbled trying to get away from her as quickly as possible. All of the girls Yoongi dated were the same, superficial airheads that didn't seem to care for you being Yoongi's best friend and would do everything that they could to get you away from him. Not that you blamed them, they probably saw you as a threat and thought you'd never do anything to jeopardise Yoongi's date no matter how jealous you were of him.

"Dante the Great!" Someone boomed out as you and Summer walked through the door and took a seat in the back of the room, watching the show-up front. A tall man with dark hair stood in the centre of the room, a top hat on his head and a dark rose tattooed on his left hand.

"I will amaze you with my performance," He told everyone but your attention was suddenly on Summer who was eyeing you up closely.

"What's Yoongi like? I don't want to date him if he's playing me." She told you bluntly, your heart racing a little as you stared back at her,

"He's-" But before you could speak she shook her head at you and gave you a pleading look, a look that could seriously come from a puppy and it made your heart clench.

"From girl to girl, please tell me seriously. Is he going to hump and dump?" Your mouth suddenly felt drier than the desert and you had no idea what to even tell her,

"Yoongi is great," You admitted, licking your lips a little as you tried to give yourself a little time to think of what you could say. You weren't about to intentionally ruin his date,

"He's sweet and he's kind, he might come across as a little...harsh to everyone else but he's," You bit your lip a little as you thought about him,

"He's incredible. No matter what time of day it is, if you ever need anything he's there for you. He'll move mountains to help you with anything you need and not to mention he'd climb through barbed wire to make sure you're never hurt." She stared at you, smiling a little as she listened to you talking about him but once you'd started you weren't sure you were ever going to stop.

"He makes you feel as though you're the only girl in the world, that no one else matters because he's there with you. And if you ever say something stupid he'll never laugh at you with it, maybe in the future when you can both laugh but he's never one to be cruel. Never one to be mean," You looked down at your hands, you'd never admitted any of this to anyone not even your diary got to see this side of how you felt about Yoongi.

"He's great, Summer...You should date him," You mumbled a little trying not to get carried away with how you were speaking and you slowly looked up to see her staring back at you with a smirk on her face.

"Summer?" You laughed awkwardly trying to get her to look away from you but she narrowed her eyes at you and shook her head a little.

"I should have seen it before," She told you as she smiled weakly, reaching her hand out and rubbing her thumb along your knuckles.

"You're in love with Yoongi, right?" Your whole world stopped as you stared at her, if she'd seen it so easily why hadn't he?

"That obvious?" You looked away from her, looking at the show as Dante made a rabbit appear from his hat before giving it to someone in the front row. Your eyes glanced back at Summer as she looked at you with a pitiful look on her face,

"Not until you started talking about him, does he know?" You shook your head in answer to her question and she sighed at you,

"Take it from someone who knows from experience. It's better to tell him than to watch him fuck everyone else instead of you." You knew that she was right but were you really about to take advice from her when she was on a date with the man you were in love with?

"But we had one night together, he left without a word about it." You shrugged your shoulders as she stood up, you followed her and made your way out of the room and into the hallway. Yoongi was waiting in line for the mirrored room and you glanced at Summer once again who smiled weakly.

"Look, from girl to girl. If he does that then he's not worth the time of day, but if your feelings are that deep for him, talk." She told you before hugging you tightly, Yoongi frowned from the other side of the hall wondering what had happened between you for this to happen.

On all of the dates Yoongi had been on or had ever bought you to meet you'd never once hugged one of them or seemed as nice toward them.

"Summer. I thought we could go into the mirrored room." He called out as she walked toward him, kissing his cheek softly.

"I'm not really feeling us as a match," She told him plainly as he stared at her. Not feel them as a match? They'd barely spend any time together for her to determine whether or not she even liked his hair cut how could she just walk off? He barely had time to protest before she walked out of the house leaving you and Yoongi alone together.

"Next couple please," The man at the door announced as Yoongi stepped up, you walked toward him before he walked into the room with an unimpressed look on his face. The door behind you shut and locked and you were left alone, just you and Yoongi and your 100 reflections all staring back at you, Yoongi wasn't in front of you and you weren't exactly sure which Yoongi was even the real him but he was glaring in your direction.

"What did you say to her?" He snarled making your heart rate rocket,

"I didn't say anything bad," You told him as you looked around trying to find where he was standing but he kept on the move, making you follow him as you stretched your hands out in front of you trying not to smash your head into glass.

"But clearly it was enough to scare her away." He growled out, he was sick of his dates not working out anymore. Now that it was closer to the colder seasons it was going to get impossible to ignore the date that was coming up. The anniversary of when he'd almost fucked everything up between you and him.

Halloween all those years ago, one drunken night and one you'd forgotten and he was thankful for. When he'd woken up the morning after he'd rushed out of the dorm room to go and grab food and rethink everything that had happened the nights previous. When you'd come to meet him you'd never bought up the night before and he just knew you'd not remembered a single thing.

Now every Halloween when the night would come around he needed a different girl to get lost in, a different girl so he wouldn't throw himself down at your feet and ask for another night just like the one you'd shared years ago.

"She asked me what you were like, I was honest and told her everything." You shrugged, it wasn't a lie and Yoongi could tell. Fuck, he could read you like a book and he hated that. You were everything to him and all he really wanted to do right now was throw himself at you and kiss you.

"She was boring anyway," He admitted, slowly coming out from behind you and holding your hips in his hands, the small contact sending shivers vibrating throughout your entire body. Your eyes locked with his in the mirror in front of you,

"Tell me what you said to her," He whispered, his lips inches away from your ear as you let out a small gasp while his hands slowly trailed the waistband of your skirt his skin coming into contact with yours.

"I didn't, she figure something out." Your voice was shakey, you didn't trust it not to crack on you as Yoongi continued to run his fingers along the elasticated waistband.

"Which was..." His lips slowly lowered until they were hovering above your bare shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as you realised you weren't going to get out of this one. Your breaths became laboured as he placed a small and gentle kiss on your skin, a whimper leaving your throat as you decided to throw caution to the wind.

"That I'm in love with you, always have been and always will be," As soon as the words left your throat you were suddenly span around and pushed up against the mirror, your eyes slowly opened to find Yoongi staring at you.

"Ever since Halloween 2022?" He questioned, it was almost ten years since the day and you nodded your head at him and his eyes scanned yours for any sign that you were lying to him.

"You remembered that night?" He sounded surprised which was confusing to you. Of course, you remembered that night. It was he who had decided to play dumb all these years and act as though nothing had happened between you both.

"How could I not? It was the best night of my life," You scoffed at him attempting to walk away but he placed his hand on the mirror beside your head trapping you between him and the mirror.

"I thought you'd forgotten...You never bought it up." He stuttered a little as you stared back at him, your eyes staring directly into his soul as you bit your tongue.

"Neither did you. I thought you regretted it," You admitted as his hand slowly moved to cup your face in his hands, running his thumb along your soft lip and shaking his head.

"My only regret is going ten years without another taste of you," He growled out, your thighs rubbing together as you felt yourself growing wetter at the thought of it.

"Every year was torture as I thought about Halloween with you," He told you as he ran his hand up your thigh and between the skirt you were wearing and your heart began to quicken.

"Yoongi," You whispered out, clutching onto his bicep as he let out a small chuckle at how nervous you suddenly were.

"We have all the time in the world in here," He whispered to you, already knowing that you were worrying about who could walk inside here but he was right. No one was allowed to enter until the two of you pushed the button on the exit door to let them know you'd made your way through it successfully.

"I need you," He told you as he took your hand and slowly placed it over his hardened cock through his jeans and you let out a little giggle that was like music to his ears.

"You did that all Halloween night, you'd giggle and I couldn't help but feel my heart swell for you," He told you as he ran his hands further up your thigh until he reached the black panties you'd put on that afternoon and your hips jerked forward.

"Please, Yoongi." You begged for something, anything, you just wanted to feel him touching you again it was all you'd been wanting for ten years.

"Ten years I've been waiting for this, ten." He told you as he softly rubbed his thumb over your clothed clit, your head rolling back against the mirror as you let out a strangled moan at his touch.

"Every year there was a different girl because I was terrified if I was alone I'd ruin our friendship," He whines out as he begins to pick up the pace on your clit, your eyes rolling back as you let out a strangled moan of his name,

"Now you're telling me I didn't need to worry about that at all," He tutteed a little at you, pretending to be disappointed as he pulled your panties to the side and sunk two fingers deep into your cunt. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, your hands clutching onto his biceps as he smirked at you.

"Yoongi," You cried out as he began to curl his fingers hitting that one spot that made your legs go numb and your whole world spin. It should have been criminal just how good he was with his fingers, you were a moaning mess in his hands as you struggled to stay standing up straight.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Yn," He told you as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, enjoying the sound of wetness as he thrust them faster in and out of you. Your head rolled back against the mirror as he bit down on his lip and did his best to control himself. God, the number of times he'd imagined doing this with you, every Halloween he'd wanted to take you inside of this room.

Fuck you in full view of yourself so you could see how beautiful he found you, to show you how much he wanted to worship your body and so you'd never forget just how badly he wanted you.

"Yoongi, please." You pleaded as he continued to thrust his fingers, your hips bucking toward him as you felt your orgasm ready to wash over you. He spread your legs further apart somehow hitting deeper inside of you as he continued to drive his fingers into you, your eyes rolling back.

"Cum for me baby, cum for me and scream my name." He growled out his pace picking up as your legs shook in place, your nails digging into his skin and causing him to bleed ever so slightly. Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned out his name, bucking against him as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave your whole body shaking.

"So fucking hot," He grunts looking at you, slowly retreating his fingers from you and sucking them clean all the while staring you in the eyes.

"Turn around and hike up your skirt," He orders as he quickly undoes his belt and frees himself from his boxers, fuck he was bigger than you remembered.

"I'm nervous," You admitted as your eyes met one another in the mirror and he smiled warmly at you, lining his cock up at your entrance.

"I know, but you have nothing to be nervous about," He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck as he carefully pressed into you, inch by inch giving you time to adjust as you let out a small cry.

"Fuck, Yoongi you're too big." You moaned out as he bit down on your ear a little, reaching around you with one hand and squeezing your nipple through the thin fabric.

"I'm perfect for you," He moaned out as he slowly began to withdraw from you, only to push back inside of you again, you were so fucking tight he could barely hold himself together,

"You feel so fucking amazing," He moaned out looking down at you as your breathing picked up, your eye smeeting his in the mirror.

"You're so hot Yoongi," You breathed out, your words giving him encouragement as he continued to thrust his hips in and out of you, bottoming out each time as you clenched around him.

"Fuck," He groans letting his head drop to your shoulder blade, your breathing is laboured as you stare at him,

"I'm so fucking full," You cry out, your hands trying to grip the mirror as you look at one another,

"M-Move, Yoongi...Please," You begged as he slowly began to rock his hips in and out of you, looking down at you as he held your hip in one hand and the other on the mirror in front of him.

"Roll...f-fuck, roll your hips a little," He begged as you began to roll your hips back to meet his, your moans becoming louder as you cried out one another's name.

"I'm so close, I'm sorry." He whined out but you didn't stop rocking your hips back to meet his, you were desperate for him to come you wanted to hear his moans, to watch him as he came for you.

"Don't stop then," You begged as you looked him in the eyes through the mirror,

"Cum, please Yoongi." You begged out as he looked down at you, his hands holding onto you tightly as he began to drive in and out of you, a breathless gasp falling past your lips.

"Yoongi,." You warned him as he hit that spot again and again, a smirk growing on his face as he continued to fuck into that same spot for you. The pressure continued to build at the base of your stomach as you whimpered, legs slipping a little but Yoongi held you tighter keeping you upright,

"Yoongi, Oh my god," You groan out as he continues to fuck into you roughly. Your orgasm erupts as you whimper, bucking against him as your entire body grows numb, your vision blurring as he continues to fuck into you.

"Oh fuck me," He groans out as he comes, his hips stilling as he looks down at you, sweat dripping down your forehead but you'd never looked more beautiful.

"I love you," You whispered as you looked at him, Yoongi grunted as he slowly pulled out of you enjoying the way you pouted and let out a whine of protest at the sudden lack of fullness.

"I love you too," He whispered, cleaning himself off with his boxers before tucking himself away and looking at you. Slowly he licked his lips as the two of you gathered yourselves up ready to go and hit the buzzer to get out. Hopefully the music out in the hallway had muffled the sounds of what you were doing, not that either of you really cared all that much you were never going to see any of these people again.

"Let's go back to mine, have a nice warm bath and then we can watch whatever movie you want." He suggested as you headed out of the house and into the cold night,

"Sure," You kissed his cheek softly very happy with how the night had turned around for the two of you. The two of you walked hand in hand toward his car, a giant smile on both your faces as you did your best to act as though your legs weren't currently like jelly.

****

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

does sympathy for hatred work into your belief? loaded question, i'm sorry. i know you have enough empathy to go around. it was an unkind question with unkind feelings behind it. i hurt. but i don't know what i'm are supposed to do with pedo-rapists that will never stop haunting us. daddy's in prison for the next 15 years and mommy wishes i had died. i feel so lonely. feel like my terror makes me a centrist or something. i feel so stupid.

You are not stupid, nor are you wrong for feeling how you feel. It is not a failure of any kind to feel the ways that you do. In fact, feeling these things is part of the process, at least within my process.

I don't think where I have currently landed as it comes to forgiveness is above or below anyone else. It's not a moral question whatsoever. In many ways, it's fueled by pure pragmatism and self-interest. It's the only way I personally have found to move forward with my life. And to me, that says nothing about anyone else or their path. It is only what I have found has helped me.

I will speak on my story because that is all I can speak on--this is not an attempt to 'diagnose' you or where you are at within your process; when I say 'I,' I authentically mean I, myself.

For a long time I was not ready to move forward. I was angry. I had been hurt badly by so many, in ways that were not merely the unavoidable forms of harm that being a human in relationship with other humans brings about. And I was not ready to let that go.

That is a neutral fact. Healing is not an imperative, and suffering is part of the process. It was not wrong for me to be angry, or to feel hate for those who hurt me, or to not be ready to move beyond those experiences. If i still felt that way today, or in a decade, or till the end of my life, it would not be wrong. If I died still with those feelings, there would be no shame in that.

For a very long time, I truly did not believe there was any other option. Perhaps there were no other options for me with the spot I was at in life, maybe there was no other way it could have been. This acceptance of what 'was' is useful in looking back, but not helpful for projecting onto the future. For a long time, I did project this fatalism into the future. I believed the story of my life was already told, and I just had to watch. But slowly, over the course of a number of years, my conviction in that belief weakened and alongside it, something else sprouted.

I met Anat at a partial hospitalization program for my eating disorder in 2021. She was early 30s. We were the only two smokers in the group, so we got to know each other quickly and well. She kicked dope when she was about my age at the time and had been sober ever since.

I used for a lot of reasons, to boil it down to some singular, cohesive, narratively-fulfilling motivation neglects the truth of the matter.

I used because drugs are fun, and I like them. I used because they passed the time. I used because I felt unfulfilled and they were a distraction. And I used because all I wanted was to not exist anymore so I could stop hurting, and getting fucked up felt easier than killing myself.

Before meeting Anat, I genuinely did not believe that recovery--by which I mean more than simple abstinence--was possible for me. Of course, cognitively, I knew there were addicts who stopped, stayed stopped, and got better, but I didn't know any, or at least none like me. And Anat was like me, I could tell. I wanted to stop, I had every reason to stop, I faced consequence after consequence for not having stopped, and still, I kept going. But here in front of me was evidence that it was possible. I was still not yet ready. I was stringing a week or less together at a time, miserable for every second of it. I was not ready to let go of what was keeping me there.

Anat was murdered a month after I met her. When I found out, I downed gin till i was unconscious. I was angry, I was lost, I was hurt, and I wished I never met her because meeting her changed something in me: I started to believe that something--anything!--else was possible from life besides endless hurt.

The funny thing about belief is that, well, we can't believe what we don't believe. And I didn't believe what I used to anymore, or at least not as unshakably. There was a seed of doubt: maybe something else is possible. I did not yet believe it, but I had been forced to become the tiniest bit open to the idea. Maybe I am wrong; maybe this is not all that there is.

And that's all it takes to get the ball rolling.

"Do you believe, or are you willing to believe?"

I don't remember the next year of my life very well, but i know it was very, very, very bad. I kept using, and it only got worse. I continued getting raped again and again. I got evicted. But the one thing I had was the morsel of hope growing inside of me.

And I hated it. Hope means I feel that I owe it to myself to try. Cynicism has a comfort to it: sure, things may suck, but at least I know they'll suck. Hope lacks that. Hope requires me to open myself up to disappointment. Hope had always been folly to me.

But slowly, I stopped wanting to hurt. That sliver of belief that the hurt could maybe stop turned into a desire. To fulfill the desire, the only option was to try. If hurt is assured through one path, and only a possibility in the other, I must choose the second, even though it is very possible I do not avoid the hurt.

It is not wrong to not be ready to move forward. If your process has not led you to want what I have come to want, that is not a failure. It does not make you deficient. I was not wrong to be where I was 4 years ago and I am not right for being where I am today. Maybe your process leads you elsewhere. Maybe your life worth living is very different than mine. None of these things are anything besides 'is.'

I heard a call from within myself that I had never heard before, and I felt compelled to answer it: act only out of goodwill and love for others and myself. Simple, but not easy.

I am myself and myself alone. The only life I get to live is my own. It is not for me to say what anyone else should do, because I am not anyone else and I do not know what anyone else should do. Maybe you got the same call as me, maybe you feel differently about it, maybe you didn't get it at all, maybe you never will, maybe you get a different call. Maybe your process is different. I am not you, I have neither ability nor desire to judge you or anyone else. All I can do is what i can and hope that others are happy and fulfilled, no matter what.