#what part of ‘we don’t have the same goals in life’ makes him think I’m gonna want him back
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neon-danger · 5 months ago
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hello tunglr, this week a guy I told I didn’t want to see anymore followed my Instagram
Again
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ambrosiagoldfish · 9 months ago
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I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰
Benefit of the doubt Pt.3
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
Request box: Open
Word count: 3664
A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.
Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily
It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.
After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.
You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.
The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.
Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.
“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.
“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .
His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”
He pauses
“And?” You look at him anticipatingly
“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks
“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”
Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”
You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…
“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”
“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.
You look at him confused, “Why?”
“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.
You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.
“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.
Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace
“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”
“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.
-
A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.
But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!
Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.
Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you
“What is it?” You look up at him.
“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone
Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.
You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.
But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.
There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.
You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.
Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.
From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.
“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?
Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged
Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”
With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.
The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air
“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him
“What the hell Sera?!”
“Alone, please.”
Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.
“Go talk with Sera,”
“But-“
“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,
“Ok?”
Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.
Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.
You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.
You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.
“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”
You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.
“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.
“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”
Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.
You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”
“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”
You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.
“Y/n”
“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.
“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.
“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”
“No but-“
“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”
“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“
“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”
Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .
“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“
Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.
Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.
You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.
“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm
“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“
“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.
“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.
You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.
Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.
“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”
Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..
“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“
“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”
“But-“
“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end
Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.
Sera nods her head “Understood”
“Thank you…”
A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch
Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.
Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”
You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.
“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.
“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”
You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”
Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “
You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious
“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”
You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“
Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.
You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again
“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”
“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.
Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”
You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.
“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”
“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.
“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.
Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier
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theemporium · 5 months ago
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❤️ 27 quinn Hughes
(Have a great day love)
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
27. “Why don’t we use some of your toys?”
series masterlist
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Long distance relationships came with their trials and tribulations. 
There were a series of factors you had to take into consideration that you had never given a second thought in past relationships. Beyond your personal schedules, you had to consider the time difference between Michigan and Vancouver. And whilst you were aware three hours wasn’t the worst difference in the world, it had a horrible habit of being a pest. 
Quinn was usually asleep by the time you woke up. You were in classes when he woke up. He was in practice by the time you got home. You were usually fighting the urge to fall asleep after a long day by the time he got out of training and meetings. 
It was annoying.
But one of the worst parts was the physical touch—or, the lack thereof. 
There were days you wanted nothing more than to come home and curl into his arms. There were days you were watching his games and wishing you could be there after the final buzzer, whether it’s to celebrate or sulk together. There were days you just wanted to be able to kiss him instead of wistfully thinking about it when you were on facetime with him. 
And, there were days where you just really wanted to fuck your boyfriend. 
But it wasn’t always possible and whilst the late night phone calls with Quinn moaning and panting and groaning in your ear as he told you everything he wanted to do to you were hot, it didn’t always scratch the itch. Sometimes, it wasn’t enough to get yourself off. 
Quinn knew that. Quinn understood that better than anyone else. So really, there was no other person less likely to judge you from taking it a step further, for buying a few toys to try and spice things up when you were in bed alone.
Yet, it didn’t stop your face from burning in embarrassment when Quinn reached into your bedside drawer, slightly preoccupied with your tongue in his mouth and your hand wrapped around his cock that it took his brain a few seconds to realise wasn’t feeling the foil wrapper of a condom in his hand. 
“Oh baby, you didn’t tell me I had some competition.” 
You let out a groan, your hands covering your face as Quinn pulled the toy out of your drawer. “Kill me now. Put me out of my misery.” 
“You’re so dramatic,” he teased, sounding far too amused with the situation. He inspected the toy curiously, pressing a small button on the side and watching it buzz to life. He almost snorted at the way you whined in embarrassment as the noise echoed through your bedroom. “Should I be worried I’m being shown up?” 
“Stop being mean,” you grumbled behind your hands. 
“I thought you liked it when I was mean,” Quinn shot back, turning the toy off and dropping it somewhere on the bed as he reached for your hands to pull them away from your face. “Hey, it’s not embarrassing, you know that?” 
“You weren’t meant to see them,” you murmured, still unable to meet his eyes. 
“Oh, them? There’s more?” Quinn mused, his fingers lightly tracing shapes along your wrist. “Why don’t we use some of your toys?”
Your gaze snapped up, lips parted in shock. “What?” 
“Do they make you feel good?” Quinn asked. 
You nodded, somewhat speechless. 
“Then, good. We have the same goal,” he replied, his lips twitching upwards when you let out a surprised snort of laughter. “Plus,” Quinn continued as he leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses from your neck to your ear. “I want you to show me exactly how you use them.” 
You gulped a little. “Quinn—”
“C’mon, baby,” he taunted, his voice a little rougher as he lightly nipped the sensitive spot below your ear. “Show me how you make yourself come. Tell me exactly what you think about when you have that toy between your legs, pretending it’s me.”
.
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wearebarca · 7 months ago
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3. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 3
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Part 1 part 2 part 3
synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.
word count: 4,3K
18 + (eventually)
A/N: Hello, notify me if you'd like a little album of the pictures Rosalie takes. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.
The question took the brunette by surprise. She could see that the footballer was getting more comfortable around her but she did not think that the woman would ask such a personal question. The subject had always been quite sensitive for the Canadian but, for unknown reasons she felt that, here, in this empty facility, with the catalonian trusting her with this whole process, she felt like she could share this bit of her story.
“ My uncle was a wedding photographer. When I was younger, he used to bring me with him to some weddings and have me play his little assistant. He would give me one of those single use cameras and tell me to capture what I found beautiful.” The memory put a nostalgic smile to the woman’s face. To this day, she still incredibly misses her uncle and wishes that he could see her today. 
“My parents were busy people, so my uncle took me under his wing. He taught me everything he knew and encouraged me to pursue this passion and helped me make a career out of it.” She raised her camera and snapped a shot of the blond who was listening with a small smile on her face.  “ Can you angle yourself towards the left please?” 
The blond moved to the side and for the first time tonight, really took the time to look at the brunette. Her hair was in a messy bun with a few strands escaping and framing her face. Her high waisted jean shorts showed off her long legs. She had on an oversized gray grandad cardigan on top of her black t–shirt. The sleeves of her sweater were slightly too long and went over her hands. The brunette looked comfortable and at ease, she was relaxed and completely in her element. She looked nothing like the photographer’s Alexia had worked with in the past. She was used to flamboyant people who yelled orders at their models or were constantly harassing her with their camera, not this slightly awkward, caring, beautiful woman who was willingly sharing her story with the footballer.
“ He must be an incredible photographer.”
“ He was yes,” The brunette’s expression dimed at that, Alexia suddenly felt bad for bringing the subject but the smaller woman motionned to her that everything was ok and continued. “  Eleven years ago he was diagnosed with bone cancer. He died a year later, not long after my eighteenth birthday.”  
“ I am sorry,”
“ Don’t be, I’m happy to talk about him,” She said smiling, “ What about you? Why football?”
“ My dad, he loved football. He was always very supportive and proud. He got sick.” The blond said, looking down, not wanting the photographer to see her be vulnerable. Rosalie felt the shift in the atmosphere and put down her camera. “ He said that he would not die before seeing his daughter play for Barcelona’s first team, but he went two months before I reached our goal.” 
The brunette wanted to hug the girl standing in front of her but could not decide if she would be comfortable enough to do so. “ I am sure he is extremely proud of what you have accomplished, La reina”, the name earned the smaller woman an eye roll from the footballer who shifted in a different position for the photographer. 
“ Ok, let’s get this shoot over with, I think we both deserve to go home and finally relax.” They finished up quickly and Rosalie was quite happy with the pictures that came out. While she uploaded the pictures to her computer, the blond helped picking up the equipment. Grateful for her help, the brunette promised the captain that she would bring her coffee next week as a thank you.
They walked out of the empty training center as the sun was starting to set. When the brunette reached her small car, she turned around to see the taller woman standing awkwardly behind her. 
“ I just wanted to thank you for making this shooting so casual and easy.”
“ Of course, anything to make you comfortable, Alexia.” She grabbed the blond’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. “ Have a good weekend Capitana,” 
“Thank you,” The blond started to walk towards her own car but turned back around after a few steps. 
“ Bonne nuit Rosalià.”
The morning air was crisp against her sweat coated skin and the breeze coming from the sea kept the brunette cool even after running for an hour. It was still incredibly early in the morning and the only sounds that could be heard were the odd car passing and the sound of her feet hitting the pavement. Early morning was her favorite time to go run. It allowed her to be completely submerce by the calmness of the still sleeping city. Rosalie didn’t often run with music, preferring to listen to the sounds of her own steps, which acted as some sort of metronome for the torrent of thoughts running in her head lately. 
It had been four days since her shooting with the captain and still, the whole ordeal seemed to be the subject her brain would drift back to whenever the French-Canadian would let her mind run free. The fact that the blond seemed to make tremendous effort to stay as far as she could from the photographer had not helped the questions that were quickly multiplying in her head. 
Rosalie somehow thought that after that night, Alexia would be more approachable and less standoffish. But clearly the woman was not as comfortable as she thought with how vulnerable they had gotten and now she was probably regretting telling the brunette so much. Or maybe she thought that Rosalie went too far by sharing her story with the footballer. Whatever the reason was, the results were still the same. 
Later today, the team will be taking off towards Sevilla for a two day trip. They would all meet at the training center and take the team bus towards the airport. Flying had always been a tricky thing for Rosalie. When she was a teenager she had been on a plane with extremely violent turbulence that had scared the girl and ever since, flying had been one of the woman’s biggest fears. Her friends had always found the thing ironic, since the brunette's job required Rosalie to fly frequently and said that she should’ve gotten used to it by now. But nonetheless, every time the photographer simply thought about flying, she would get restless and anxiety would start creating a pit in her stomach. 
This was the reason why she was currently out at such an ungodly hour, trying to literally run away from her anxious thoughts. Around her she could see that the small coffee shops that were lined on the streets were starting to set up their front patios in order to open and the smell of freshly baked pastries was floating in the morning air. A quick look at her watch told her that she still had a good three hours before Lucy and Keira would arrive at her apartment to pick her up, meaning that she still had time to hit  the half marathon mark before heading back.
She wasn’t used to running this long on morning runs, but she had gone over her training program with Sara, one of the coaches and switched up her training to make it more challenging. So far her breathing was good and she could feel the slight burn of her legs but overall, her pace was good and she was more than satisfied with her time. 
Sara had been a true angel this past week. She had helped the runner organize a new training plan that was focused more on endurance rather than speed. Rosalis had always struggled with long distances which was why marathons were her least favourite type of races. She was extremely hard headed though so she was still focused on mastering this type of event. 
She even went as far as going running with the Canadian during the weekend. She was quite impressed by the level of fitness the brunette was displaying and found that she very much appreciated the company of the French-Canadian. After their run they had stopped at a local café and had agreed to room together during the upcoming trip. 
When Rosalie arrived at her apartment complex, she noticed the couple’s car parked by the door. She checked her watch to see that she technically still had at least an hour and a half before they were supposed to be here. She opened her door to come face to face with a sleeping form on her couch and Lucy running around in her kitchen.the smell of crêpe was wafting in the space.
“ Took you long enough,” The older woman whispered, handing Rosalie a fresh cup of coffee.
“How did you even get in here?”
“ You’re the one who left her door unlocked Rosie, which is not very safe darling you should be more careful.” 
The blob of  blankets on the couch stirred enough to reveal disheveled blond reddish hair. “ Lucy, please shut your mouth. I'm trying to sleep here.”
Rosalie made her  way to the living room and jumped on the woman who screamed at the Canadian to get off.
“ Frenchy you smell like ass go shower, Mama Bronze isn’t done with food anyway.” 
After her shower the brunette put on some comfortable clothes consisting of the staff’s tracksuit pants, a white t-shirt with the Barcelona logo and the Nike club vest that had quickly become one of her favorite articles of clothing. When she came back in the kitchen, everything had been picked up and the kitchen island was dressed up with the food. Lucy and keira were already sitting down and shoveling down food.
“ Mais quel bande d’animal, sincèrement? Vous ne pouviez pas attendre que j’aille fini?”
“ Tais toi femme et viens manger.” Lucy replied with her mouth full.
“ I regret teaching you French, I hope you know that.” She sat down and sipped on her coffee. She wasn’t hungry due to the knot that kept her stomach in check. Knowing that the younger woman would most likely not be able to eat due to her nervousness, Lucy got up and pulled out from the fridge a protein smoothie she had made at home before coming over. 
“Here, at least drink this, you just came back from what I assume was a big run. You gotta put something in you.”
Once breakfast was over, Rosalie finished packing up her camera bag while the girls were loading her bags in the car. The drive to the training center was quiet. Keira was still half asleep and Rosalie was simply too stressed to engage in conversation. Lucy didn’t mind the silence, she was relaxing and enjoying the time spent with two of the most important people in her life. 
The bus ride with the team was more or less the same, with everyone in  pretty much the same state as Keira. As they got closer to the airport, Rosalie’s nerves became worse. Her knee was bouncing up and down and the woman kept zoning out, unable to keep listening to Martina who was going on about a rumor about some people working in management. Thanks to Marcello’s participation in the conversation, Rosalie’s state remained relatively unknown. Or so she thought. 
A few seats behind her, Ingrid, Alexia, Mapi, Keira and Lucy were all sitting together. Knowing that the younger girl was quite fragile at the moment, Lucy had kept a close eye on her. 
“ Hermana, you keep watching Rosie, is everything good?” Mapi wondered, stretching her neck to catch a glimpse of the photographer. 
“She hates flying, it affects her a lot. I just don’t want her to get too bad, you know » Alexia had also noticed the change in the brunette. The normally bubbly woman looked pale and uncharacteristically quiet. 
« Can we do something to help? » Ingrid asked.
« Not really, nothing really distracts her in this situation. We just have to let her process this and stay close, just in case. » Keira replied. They were used to flying with the brunette and had tried everything to help her calm down but nothing really did the trick. She usually would put her headphones in and grip the seat as  hard as she could until they would land. 
Lucy got up and excused herself. Alexia watched her make her way to the front of the bus where the coaches, therapist and the rest of the staff were. “What is she doing?”
“ I think she’s trying to figure out who’s sitting with Frenchy on the plane.” Keira answered, turning towards her girlfriend.
“ They are close, Si?” Alexia’s curiosity had gotten the best of her. She wasn’t jealous, she could see that Lucy and Keira cared a lot about the green-eyed woman and she did not understand why, but she wanted to know as much as she could about her. 
“ Yeah, Like sisters they are. Lucy’s very protective of her, she does have much family. We’re hers now, you know.” Keira smiled as she watched Lucy walk back to her seat, but not without stopping to drop a granola bar on The Canadian’s lap and threatening her to eat it before they boarded. 
“ So who’s with her?” 
“ Apparently she’s the only staff member who didn’t get a ticket in the same area, probably because they booked it after everyone else. She’s gonna sit with the team, but we don’t know our seats yet so..” She said as she sat back down.
“ It’s ok, I can ask whoever is with her to swap with me, I’ll sit with her.” Ingrid said smiling. 
“ Thank you Ingrid,” Lucy said, visibly more relaxed knowing that the brunette would be with someone she seemed to trust.
At the airport, security went smoothly and the team collected their boarding passes only to be called moments later to the gate. The speed at which everything was going was a godsend for Rosalie who was too focused on making sure she had all her documents all the while taking pictures of the team, to have time to think about the moment the wheel of the plane would leave the ground. 
As she walked in the tunnel leading to the aircraft, Rosalie could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her palms getting increasingly sweaty. Lucy’s grounding presence helped the brunette a little but her fear was fighting hard to gain control. The photographer checked her boarding pass for the first time since receiving it to check what seat she had been assigned. 
“ where are you sitting?” The question came from Ingrid who was walking in front of them. 
“ I have B47,” her answer came put a lot more calm than the woman felt as she scanned the seats to find her own. 
“ That's good, Mapi and I are right in front of you,” As she was answering, the Norwegian stopped and picked up her bag to place it in the overhead bin, which told Rosalie that they had reached their seats. She walked the few steps that separated her from her seat, only to come face to face with the woman that had been occupying her mind for the last few days. 
Suddenly, Rosalie’s anxiety found a new target to spiral about. A hand on her shoulder pulled the photographer out of her thoughts. 
“Are you ok? We can sit together if you want? I have a few movies downloaded on my tablet. Mapi can sit with Alexia.” Ingrid asked, smiling softly at the brunette. Rosalie appreciated the dark haired girl but there's one thing that woman hated more than flying, and it was  pity. She knew that they only wanted to help her but she couldn’t help but feel like they were pitying her and she didn't want to appear weak in front of her new team, which is why she politely declined, thanking the couple and placing her belongings in the bin on top of her seat. 
The comotion caught the attention of the blond captain who had not seen who was prepared to sit next to her. She was more than surprised to see the photographer standing in the alley with a nervous small playing on her lips. 
“ Hey,”
“Hola,” Alexia said smiling, picking up her bag from the seat next to her. She sat down next to the blond and closed her eyes to try to calm herself before take off. 
Looking at the brunette, Alexia felt a strange sense of protectiveness wash over her. She wanted to make the brunette feel better, make that smile that takes her breath away appear on the photographer’s soft features. A few seats away, she could see Lucy watch them with a worried expression which Alexia answered with a reassuring smile. She would not let the brunette spiral. 
Surprisingly, Alexia was not the first one to speak. “ I am sorry if I overstepped during the shooting. I didn’t want to male you feel uncomfortable.” She said, eyes still closed and head thrown back. If she was to sit with the blond for this trip, might as well try to make it a little less awkward. 
“ What do you mean?”
“ I don’t know, I just  don’t want you to think that I’m probing your personal life.”
“ No, no I did not think that, do not worry,” the footballer took a second to think about what she was going to say next. She was aware of her own behaviour towards the photographer. The woman made her nervous and she felt like with the brunette, she did not need to put on a controlled facade like with the rest of the media team, and that scared the Ballon d’Or winner. Alexia hated feeling like she wasn’t in complete control of herself, so the easiest solution in her mind was simply to keep her distances. But staying away from the brunette did not appease her curiosity. “ I am very sorry if I made you feel this way. I appreciate your presence Rosalia.” 
The blond’s small confession made Rosalie slightly relax, enough for a small smile to escape her lips. She turned her head towards Alexia, who felt a warm feeling take place at the sight. “ I appreciate your presence as well.” 
The plane jolted, signaling the brunette, who had momentarily forgotten where she was, that they would be taking off very soon. She quickly grabbed the arm rest and panic flooded brain. Alexia, who had seen the brunette deteriorate, did the first thing that came to her mind. She grabbed the hand that was gripping the arm rest and held it with her own. She reached with her other hand and gently turned the photographer’s face towards her. Green met Hazel and the brunette was instantly captured by the depth of the footballer’s gaze. 
“You’re ok, hey look at me, breathe with me ok?” The blond took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her lips. The brunette followed the footballer’s lead, her eyes never straying from Alexia’s. “ bien, lo estás haciendo muy bien”
Alexia’s words ignited a small flame at the pit of the photographer’s stomach which successfully calmed some of the anxiety, but replaced it with an odd feeling that the French-Canadian was simply not ready to face yet. 
“ Here take this, it'll help with the pressure,” the captain pulled out a pack of gum and popped two pieces in Rosalie’s hand. The first bite surprised the photographer who made a face that pulled a chuckle from the footballer. 
“ What kind of psycho chews cinnamon gum?”
“Hey it’s good don’t be mean,” the woman answered with a hurt expression. She could see that Rosalie had calmed down quite a bit, but the deadly grip she still had on the blond’s hand showed her just how sacred the photographer was. Suddenly, they could feel the plane gain some speed and the wheel lifting off the ground. The brunette’s gaze shifted quickly towards the small window as panic clouded her eyes.
“ no, no sigue mirándome” With her hand still on Rosalie’s face, she drew the brunette closer still. Only a few inches separating the two. Rosalie could smell Alexia’s perfume, something sweet, like strawberries. She smelled like summer, it was intoxicating. She didn’t understand what the blond had said but it did not matter, since as soon as her gaze met hers, the blond smiled sweetly and Rosalie forgot once again where she was. 
“ Tell me one of your happiest memories,” The French-Canadian was surprised by the blond’s question. She had gone from ignoring the photographer to taking care of her during takeoff. She knew that Alexia was simply trying to distract her, but the curiosity she could see shining through her eyes made the brunette realize that maybe, the football player didn’t hate her after all. 
“ My first triathlon, it would have to be one of the most meaningful things in my life.” She answered.
“ Tell me about it, si?” 
“ It was a few years ago, my uncle loved triathlons. He used to do one every summer. He also volunteered as a photographer for the races. When I got older I would volunteer with him and he used to say that I would be a great triathlete if I wanted.” She said, smiling at the memory. 
“ He knew that my football days were over since I had gotten injured and needed surgery on my ankle. He said that once I’d be on my feet again I should give it a try. But I used to think that I would hate running, it was the part I hated the most during training.” Rosalie’s expression darkened. 
“When he died, I thought that it would be a good way to honour him in a way, the training was so hard. I had never swum before and my cardio wasn’t great coming back from injury.” She took a deep breath and her gaze left Alexia’s to shift to their intertwined fingers. 
“ But the rush of crossing the finish line was electric. It felt like I made him proud.” She looked back up only to see the captain's face lighting up along with hers. 
A few seats in front of the two, Lucy was witnessing the whole thing along with Keira. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing. In the time they had known her they had never seen her be so relaxed on a plane, nor being so physically close with someone she had just met. She had always been a bit weird about physical touch, it had taken a while before she started to relax whenever the English women hugged her. But at this moment, hand in hand and only a few inches separating their faces, the photographer looked comfortable, happy almost. 
The sound indicating that you could take the seat belts off pulled the two women out of their little bubble. Realizing that she was still gripping the footballer’s hand, Rosalie slowly untangled her fingers from Alexia’s and slightly pulled away from her. 
“Thank you for distracting me,” 
“My pleasure, I am always happy to know more about you Rosalia” The footballer turned around and pulled out her headphones from her case. Rosalie, still surprised by the blond’s statement, put one headphone back in her ear, letting the other one dangle in on her chest and closed her eyes, listening to the calming sound of her music, all the while keeping an ear out in case anything happened. 
A few minutes passed, not much could be heard around. Everyone was either on their phones or had put a movie on their screen. Rosalie could see from the space between seats that Mapi and Ingrid were snuggled up and watching The Lion King on their tablet. An intense shuffling sound pulled her attention away from their screen to see Alexia intensely searching for something in her bag.
“ Ah mierda , where are they?” She sounded frustrated enough for the brunette to lean in to see.
“ Are you ok?”
“ Si, I think I did not bring my headphone charger and they just died,” The blond said frustrated. 
“ Here,” The brunette took her headphone that was resting on her chest and offered it to the footballer. “ we can share if you’d like, I’m not using them both.” She said smiling. 
“ You don’t mind?” 
“Of course not, it’s the least I can do after you helped me like that.” She said, getting closer so the wire wouldn’t pull her other headphone out. “ What do you usually listen to?” 
“ You can leave on what you were listening to, I just don’t like working without music.” The blond said, pulling out her laptop. Rosalie pressed play again and the soft piano song started again in her ear. After a moment, the blond stopped typing and spoke again. 
“ This is nice, very calm, what is it called?” 
“ This is Interlude by this group called London Grammar. The singer’s voice is so powerful, it’s one of my favourite groups.” she said, happy to share her music with the blond.
“ Good, I will look them up then.” The blond went back to her work, softly humming to the music in her ear. Meanwhile, Rosalie was starting to feel like her lack of sleep and intense morning run were slowly taking a toll on her body. Alexia’s calm and grounding presence, along with her perfume that flooded her senses every time she took a breath allowed the photographer to relax enough for her eyelids to become heavy. Slowly her whole body became heavy and her head lolled to the side, resting gently on Alexia’s shoulder. 
At the contact, the footballer went rigid, but relaxed as soon as she realized that the photographer had finally succumbed to sleep, after being on edge all morning.  Knowing she could not work without disturbing the brunette, Alexia closed her laptop and relaxed in her seat, letting the soft music guide her towards sleep as well.
A/N: feedback is appreciated
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hylianane · 10 days ago
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I have an opinion about Holly Kujo and I’m a little scared cause I dont know the Jojo fandom enough to come in with what I think is a hot take.
I’ve noticed that, in fanworks, a lot of people portray Holly as tougher than she is in the show. And it makes sense, cause the idea of her being so weak-willed that she couldn’t handle a stand when even baby Shizuka could manifest one is kinda bs and a testament to Araki not being very confident with writing women at the time (thank GOD he got better though, so, so much better).
But. What always gets me is when her relationship with Jotaro is written to be a little more standard, still loving but with the child having a healthy fear of their mom’s anger- unlike what we see in Stardust, with him constantly being a brat, calling her “bitch” and her shrugging it off with an “Okay!”. And also him getting himself thrown into jail while she still can’t bring herself to get mad, just upset. And that’s a very fun play on them too, but I just worry that people who default to this dynamic for Jojo and Holly might not see how the canon characterization of their relationship is interesting in its own right.
Because even tho Holly being a doormat is a creative choice born from Araki pussying out of giving her a stand, it doesn’t change the fact that once he made that choice he gave it great importance. I think the fact that Holly’s idea of supporting her son is just accepting everything he does without any anger, is central to their relationship. It’s how, despite having a mother who loves him unconditionally, Jotaro is still a very troubled teen and emotionally withdrawn. Though it’s easy to blame it on Sadao’s implied absence, or troubles in school, we don’t have a lot of textual evidence for that.
But kids who are raised without at least some semblance of discipline and structure typically stop seeing their parents as authorities, and most importantly, protectors. A more textually-backed explanation for why Jotaro is always acting tough and independent is because he doesn’t have any adults in his life who he would trust to help him. He loves his mom, he traveled the world to save her life, but while doing that he saw himself as her protector, not the other way around, not the way it typically should be.
Think about, for example, how the adult he mouths off to the least in his life is probably Avdol. And I think part of that is because Avdol walked into that police station, took one look at Jotaro, and instantly clocked everything I just said. Because while Holly and Joseph tried to to get him out with simple words (and for Holly, tears), Avdol was there to force him out. And at first Jotaro says, “If he tries to force me out, I’ll just stay here even longer”, but Avdol doesn’t give him a choice. And he doesn’t win by overpowering him (if he had, I dont think he’d have gotten the same positive result, I am not pro setting troubled teens on fucking fire) but he outsmarts Jotaro and doesn’t quit the fight until his goal is achieved. He stays in control of his emotions when talking to him, and proves himself to be someone strong and assertive. So later, on the trip to Cairo, Jotaro is more willing to rely on him than he is to rely on his own grandpa. (+, it’s a similar thing with Kakyoin, who he trusts almost more than anyone else, because he saw Kakyoin’s will and power first-hand when they met, and left with the lesson that Kak is someone he can rely on to protect of both himself and Jotaro. Someone with strong convictions, but most importantly, willing and capable of clashing with Jotaro if necessary.)
All this to fucking say. In a world in which Jotaro was raised to fear his parent’s reprimands (and I don’t mean fear to an unhealthy amount, an abusive amount), he would act very differently than he does in the show, and his relationships to other characters would probably look very different. Holly’s personality and parenting might seem like it was an afterthought to Araki, but I think he truly did take great care in making it consistent with her son’s character. She is a very loving mom, who is very loved in return, but what I think a lot of people perceive as a flaw in her writing is actually just a flaw in her character, with narrative weight and interesting consequences. And I’m not sure how many people are really aware of that.
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suikung · 7 days ago
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Sasuke left his girlfriend pregnant (without him knowing) before leaving the village, and when he returned he found a boy very similar to Itachi.
|Takes place when Sasuke goes back to the village with Orochimaru to revive the previous Hokage
NOT proofread
Alone. The only thing you had felt the months after Sasuke defection from Konoha. Never bothering to see anyone despite your friends constantly coming to check on you. It made no sense to see anyone if they weren’t him. Your life was thrown into a spiral after he had left, which explained not noticing continuous weight gain, and when you did putting it off as over indulgence in comfort food. No matter, you couldn’t put it off for long, not when it came with nausea and missing cycles. A trip to Lady Tsunade confirmed you hadn’t been alone these past months. Sasuke had left you with a piece of himself, one that would change your whole world. “Did he know? Did he do it on purpose?” The only thoughts to occupy your brain the entire pregnancy, a part of you always imagined the three of you as a family. You knew of Sasuke’s goals to restore the Uchiha Clan, so he must of planned this before he left. No matter what you’d take charge of raising your baby into a fine shinobi just like their father. A part of you understanding his desertion, but another anguished he left you in such a state.
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It’d been 5 years since he left, in that time you moved on no longer clinging to hope he’d come back. Especially after he joined the Akatsuki and attacked the 5 Kage Summit. There was no reason for you to wish he’d come back and be a present father. You knew now this wasn’t Sasuke’s plan to leave you with a baby, he’d never be so heartless and to leave you pregnant and never once come to check on you. But maybe he was, you knew he wasn’t the same.
His eyes focused on the two moving figures, struggling to take in all the moonlight to ensure he was seeing right. What was below him was a little boy identical to Itachi, the same dark eyes and hair as him. However what set him apart was his distinct nose and mouth shape, a shape from a face he remembered well, the one of the woman standing next to the young boy. He knew it couldn’t have been anyone else but you, how you had changed. Even more beautiful than he remembered you, but what he couldn’t grasp was that little boy next to you. Was he perhaps your younger brother? No, unlikely your parents had you in their 40s, he doubted they’d have another child. “Mama can we go back home now! I’m getting tired.” What did he say….? He had heard right, that boy called you his mother.
“Sasuke what’s wrong, we don’t have much time to be standing still.” Orochimaru broke him out of his shock, he could see the way his vision was trained on you. It peaked Orochimaru’s interest, but they had an urgent matter to attend to.
The war was over. Sasuke was now a changed man who’s heart laid in protecting Konoha, protecting what he had left inside of it. His return to the village was filled with interrogations to make sure he was no threat. In these few days he spent under investigation all he could think about was finding you and the boy. He needed to know the truth. Naruto had come for him on his day of release, a heavily awkward walk back to his apartment. “So how’s everyone?” Sasuke breaking the silence. Naruto nodded looking up as the sky as he continued walking, “Everyone’s been okay. Of course training to get stronger. But I get the feeling you want to know about someone specifically.” Naruto had grown, or maybe it was just written all over Sasuke’s what he wanted to know. “She lives across the Yamanka flower shop, you’ll see it. Her family name is written on the door.” He was gone the second Naruto had finished his sentence.
After everything Sasuke had done, all the people he battled, all those he killed and somehow he could not bring his hand up to knock at your door. He could only close his eyes as he raised his hand to knock three times at your door. Footsteps came down the stairs, small quick ones. “Can I help you sir.” He saw no one in front of him as the door swung open. It was the same boy from before, eyes just like Itachi’s. “I’m looking for you mother, is she home?” The boy was suspicious, some random man just showing asking for his mom. “Yeah she is.” His eyes squinted. “You wait here, I’ll get her for you.” A second later the door was closed with such force Sasuke’s hair was pushed back briefly revealing his rinnegan. Back he was now to playing the waiting game, but he didn’t have to wait long. Footsteps now heavier approached the door, unconsciously Sasuke was doing a mental check of how his appearance looked. The door was opened, his eyes now leveled with someone. The boy was now on your hip, “Mommy this is him, he was asking for you.” It was an eternity spent looking at each other. All you could think to do was put your son down, “Karasu go upstairs and finish your breakfast. Mommy has to talk with this man.” Just like that both of you were left facing each other.
“Is he mine?” He was no man to beat around the bush, even if he, it was killing him inside to know. Expressionless but inside he burned with anticipation, searching for any look of rejection on you face. “The first words in years and this is what you tell me? I’m not even sure how you knew of him. But yes Sasuke he is yours.” God it all made sense now, back in the rescue mission when Sasuke both left, everyone told him how much you needed him but he never realized why. “I see.” He paused. “Karasu huh. He looks just like Itachi. A strong boy I would assume seeing who his mother is.” Something about him testing your son’s name like he had been there the whole time irked you. All this time and he’s saying his name like he personally named him. “Yes well he’s advancing quickly, dear I say I’ve raised him good.” Your words stung. He knew he’d never been there but he was so blinded by revenge and he never knew you were carrying his child before he left the village. Even so a small flame of happiness ignited knowing he began the repopulation of his clan without even knowing.
Lost in his thoughts he failed to notice your retreat from the door. Only when a breeze kicked his face did he realize you closed the door in him. He knew more than anything you didn’t care for him anymore. Didn’t care for him to rejoin the life of your son because all had been well without him, why would you change the dynamic now? He would respect that if he was anyone else, but Sasuke now felt the need to protect Konoha and that meant protecting his family. It wouldn’t take long for him to strike. You’d be crazy to believe he would walk away from this. He had all he had ever wanted in life, a family and he’d be damned if you kept it from him. He would have his perfect family.
He spent the rest of the afternoon going over how he’d do it and where he’d go. There was many perks to being from such a large clan, the most important to him right now was his ability to place anyone under genjutsu and the Uchiha hide outs scattered about the Land of Fire.
Night was the perfect time for all things considered a crime. Breaking and entering and kidnapping would fall under Sasuke was doing right now. How low he’d fallen he thought to himself. He’d start with you first, then move on to Karasu. As he roamed through the halls he could see now all the milestones he missed of his son, all the birthdays, trips, etc. It pained him, but he knew after today he’d be there for anything, he’d never miss any important event in his sons life. It didn’t take long to figure out which room was yours. A mother always kept her door open to reach their baby in time. Now standing over you, he couldn’t help really taking in just how much you’ve grown. Your face matured in way that showed the struggle of being a mother, but of course he couldn’t help noticing how you’d grown in other places. A light sleeper you were so it didn’t take long to feel a presence standing before you. It was common for Karasu to come sleep with you when he’d have night terrors. “Karasu did you have another bad dream baby?” Rising from your pillow expecting to see your soon to embrace him and talk away his fears, except you were met with glowing red eyes. Not able to say anything to him before falling limp into your bed. Next was Karasu, simple enough. He lightly shook him awake to allow him to fall under the genjutsu.
It took a few hours to reach the hideout. It was teetering on the edge on the edge of the Lands of Fire and Sand. A small one it was, placed here to house any Uchiha that need a place to call home on the way from a mission. Using his Susanoo to transport you both took a toll on him. By the time he reached the hide out he was exhausted. However he needed to prepare the place for when he’d release you both. Light dusting, changing of sheets and a few amenities was all Sasuke managed to do both he heard wailing in the other room. It was Karasu, he clung to your body shaking you violently. “Please mom wake up.” How had he managed to break from the genjutsu? Seeing Sasuke in the doorway Karasu stood guard in front of you. “What did you do to my mom!” His face was red and glossy from the tears. Sasuke didn’t know what to do. He only thought to tell the boy the truth.
He made slow cautious steps towards Karasu. “I brought you here both to protect you.” Karasu was even more angry. “We were perfectly fine in the village! Why would a man like you take me and mom! We don’t know you!” Before he could even register his next words, he blurted, “Because I am your father! And it’s my duty to protect you and your mother. Now you’ll stop crying and realize I’m doing this to give you both a better life.” He’d admit his words are harsh, he’s just never been around children. At that moment Sasuke would release you from the genjutsu in hopes to straighten this out with you. It didn’t take long to register what was happening, seeing your soon in front of you in an unknown place and Sasuke only a few feet away. Now it was time for you to stand in front of Karasu.
“I don’t know what sick joke this is Sasuke but you have no right to have brought us.” He stepped closer. “Take us back.” He laughed. “I can’t. I brought you here to be a family. I’m sorry I was away but I’m here now. Please let us be happy together. Karasu needs his father.” In a way he made sense, Karasu had always felt the absence of a father, but you in no way intended to place house with a war criminal. “We have been fine without you and will continue to be.” Why wouldn’t you stop being so selfish and understand him. “Let’s talk please. Listen to me.” You could only think to get your son out of here. “Karasu go outside. I’ll be there soon.” Following your words, he ran past Sasuke and went outside. He wouldn’t leave without you so he’d stay put waiting for you.
The two of you were once again alone. Sasuke closed the door behind him. Every second he took a step towards you. Every second you took one back. The room felt as though it was closing in, temperature riding enough in your thin pajama pants and shirt. “I want us to be a family. I didn’t know you were pregnant when I left. You knew how important restoring my clan is to me. I would have never left alone if I knew.” Eventually there was no more room to back into, a wall now embraced you with its freezing touch, a relief from this situation but a panic setter knowing you couldn’t go anywhere else. “We don’t need you Sasuke. I have no intentions of living a home life with you. We can co-parent to allow you to know your son better but never will I be your house wife.” What a displeasing answer. There was something more sinister now in the way he looked at you. “You’re nothing but a washed up ninja who didn’t go on more than 10 missions. Do you really think you have a say in this? I’ve made it easier for the three of us by bringing you here. Even if you tried you think you could fight me? Understand you are in the inferior position. I will have my family and the restoration of my clan like it or not. You both are now mine to protect and love and your lack of acceptance will not keep me from having my family. Do you understand.” It wasn’t a question, he knew you would understand because you knew you’d never be able to fight against him. He could kill you in any second. Head hung low as to not allow him to see your tears, what could you even say.
Rough hands brought your face closer to his, “I want the best for us. I’ve always loved you, and now you gave me all I’ve needed in life. So please, marry me.” It wasn’t a statement it was a fact. You would be his wife and you would keep intact a perfect home and family.
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aliceintheworld · 8 days ago
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PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST
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Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader
summary: "I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."
Warning: angst 😭 (I know, but I promise it will pass soon) kiss, crying, Jungkook being an idiot, but regretting later (he will suffer a bit more in the next chapters, I promise) alcoholic drink, confession 😍
A/N: I know, I promised I would post this yesterday, but my internet stopped working and there was nothing I could do 🤷‍♀️ anyway, here it is: finally things are aligning a little bit. Spoiler alert: the OC's mother will soon find out what’s going on, and things will get ugly 😬. Speaking of which, PURE ATTRACTION is coming to an end, and I'm already thinking about new projects. I hope you can join me on this journey 🤟
Previous Chapter
CAPITULO 11
The fright pulls me away from Y/N instantly. When I look back, it's Bora calling me. She stops walking and stares at us for a few seconds. Then she smiles in a mischievous way, almost as if we were doing something more than a near kiss. I can't ignore the bad feeling that overwhelms me when I can't achieve my goal. I know I'm confused and should avoid playing with someone else's feelings, but being apart from her these past few days, has been my greatest martyrdom.
“Sorry to interrupt.” She giggles, biting her lower lip.
“You didn’t interrupt anything.” Y/N quickly shakes her head, embarrassed. “I need to see Hayun. Is she around?”
“Yes.” Bora nods in agreement. “Jungkook, Namjoon was looking for you. Please go see him. No one can stand him anymore, seriously. It feels like a funeral over there.”
“I’ll be right there.” I sigh, feeling I have no choice. I didn't want to go, but I know I need to. I glance at Y/N one last time before heading inside Yoongi's house. I try to maintain a calm expression, but I can’t. I’m so dazed by everything happening that I can barely think straight.
Namjoon came to Busan out of the blue, and even though I have some regard for him, I didn’t want him to do it. I shouldn’t have mentioned the party to him, but I'm so used to having him in my life, I didn’t expect him to travel, just to see me. I didn’t want to do this to Y/N; she must be thinking horrible things about me—part of which are true—but before heading to Seoul, I wanted to talk to her and clear things up, not this mess that just happened. When she left my apartment that day, I spent hours in my room, echoing her words in my head.
I’m a proud person. I don’t like being wrong, and when I am, it’s hard for me to stop, breathe, and ask for forgiveness. However, that same day, I knew I needed to do it. I knew I needed to talk to Y/N and resolve everything before it was too late. Contrary to what she says, I really do like her. She makes me feel good, makes me happy... whenever I’m with her, I don’t think about anything else. My world, filled with problems and worries, becomes a world that is only hers. I wanted to say this to her, but I'm so confused about Namjoon that I'm afraid to make the situation worse and regret it even more.
As I approach the house, I see him among my friends, leaning against the wall. He seems unfazed by the grim situation, but I know he is bothered. I’ve known him for years, and I know he liked everyone before all the shit hit the fan, throwing our dreams and what we built together, in the trash. He smiles at me when he sees me, and I can’t reciprocate in the same way. The pride I once felt being with him, no longer exist.
“Is everything okay?” I ask when I reach Namjoon. He shrugs and shows me a red cup with a clear drink. It looks like water, but I'm pretty sure it isn’t.
“I’ve been better.” He explains in a slurred voice, watching Taehyung and Yoori kissing in the corner. It used to be the two of us, the lovey-dovey couple. “Is everything okay? You were with that girl for a good while.”
“I needed to talk to her.” I say honestly, feeling anxious; it’s like I’m doing something wrong when I know I’m not.
“She seems important... the way you looked at her...” He suggests, but it doesn’t seem serious. It’s as if he’s saying all this, but knows there’s no possibility of any involvement. Y/N isn’t the type of person I would have approached with interest, in the past, and Namjoon knows that.
“She is important.” I confirm, trying to stay relaxed. Namjoon bites his lip and looks at me with an expression I can't decipher.
“You’re joking, right?” He asks; his jaw tightens, waiting for a response.
“I’m not.” I shake my head; my heart pounding almost as loud as the music. “We had a connection, and she’s important to me, that's why we talked.”
“Wow.” Namjoon scoffs, drinking more of his drink. He rolls his eyes ironically, and then sighs. “You really bounce back quickly.”
“What did you expect me to do? Wait for you?”
“No, just that you’d wait until everything could align.”
“You didn’t wait, Namjoon.” My throat burns with my growl. How can he be so hypocritical? “You ended everything. You slept with that guy from your work when we were about to move in together.”
“I made a mistake. You needed one mistake to end everything.” He replies.
“I needed one mistake to realize you weren’t the right person for me.” I say, clarifying the fact for both him and me. “Love doesn’t hurt, doesn’t deceive. What you did... you just ruined everything. What are you really doing here?”
“I thought I was welcome in your life.” He argues, and it’s the first time I see pain and regret in his eyes. He steps closer to me, his short breaths hitting my face. Him being taller than me never bothered me, but now it feels like he’s a tower over me. A mountain. “I thought you still loved me.”
“I loved the person I thought you were.” I say, closing my eyes. My throat tightens and my chest feels heavy. All the good moments we had together flash in my mind. The first time I saw him, the first time we made love. The first time I said I loved him, scared that he wouldn’t feel the same, and Namjoon reciprocated, exceeding all my expectations. All of that no longer exists. The Jungkook who was crazy about him, who admired him, is just a shadow of who I am now. I loved him so much that I almost overlooked his betrayal for us to be together. I no longer see a future for us, I see nothing but emptiness.
“I made a mistake once, Jungkook. Just once.” He says with a slurred tongue. He looks drunk and sad. A bad combination.
“Namjoon, that’s enough. This is serious now. I want this to end. Go back to Seoul. Stay in your apartment. You need to forget me and move on. We’re not good for each other.”
“We can fix all this. We can move on together.”
“We can’t, because I’ve already made my decision. You no longer fit in my life.” I’ve never been so decisive as I am now. I remember, in the back of my mind, the way I feel every time I see Y/N; none of this feels right.What he did is unforgivable, and I could never trust him again. It just seems wrong. His dark eyes fill with tears, and he takes another step closer to me. His scent mixed with alcohol is still good, but doesn't draw me like three months ago.
“I can show you that you still want me. That I still have you.” He whispers, and even though I don’t want to, I close my eyes to welcome him. For the last time. Just this once, and then everything will be over.
His mouth crashes against mine with ferocity. He seems to show through his actions that he’s regretful, and I can feel it, but it’s not enough. In the midst of the kiss, I take everything from him. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him against me. Namjoon is mine, for the last time. All these years together, I thought it would be forever, but we can’t be anymore. His tongue meets mine in a wildness I recognize. I grunt between his lips as I feel his hand on my back, so forcefully that it’s as if he wants to merge with me. The kiss is sexual, but devoid of feeling. Y/N echoes in my head once again, from when we kissed in your room while her mom was knocking on the door. When our lips met, I felt so much more than just physical contact or her touch. It’s then that I realize it’s not worth it. All the suffering has passed, and I don’t need this anymore. I abruptly pull away from him. Our heavy, quick breaths mix as I stare into his eyes. He tries to get closer again, but I don't allow it. I push him away with my hands, trembling, anxious and sad.
“It’s over.” I whisper. His face contorts as if I’ve punched him. I feel sorry for him, but I can’t deceive us anymore. “It’s over. That was the last time we kissed. The last time you touched me. I didn’t end our relationship. You did.” I conclude; my voice comes out hoarse and in a grunt from deep in my throat. There’s no anger, no resentment towards him. Namjoon doesn’t respond, completely silent, and how could he?
I cover my face with my hands, and let out a sigh mixed with relief and anguish, escaping my soul. When I turn around, my eyes unconsciously go to the woman who, since I met her, changed something within me. Her eyes, however, are filled with tears; her cheeks flushed as if she’s holding back an impending cry. Only then do I realize that Y/N must have seen the kiss with Namjoon, and I can’t imagine what she must be thinking. Before I can react, she turns her back and walks away from the crowded room.
“Y/N!” I shout through the people, but my voice sounds low amidst the music. I move instinctively and hurry after her. Her body almost disappears down the hallway, but I run faster, pushing past two guys who look like they want to kill me, and a girl, who yells at me for bumping into her. None of this stops me until I manage to catch her by the arm. “Y/N, stop!”
“Let me go!” She twists her wrist, shaking her body so I’ll release her. I loosen my grip on her skin, afraid of hurting her, and she pulls away again, faster this time. She heads for the main door of the house and flings it open.
“I’m not letting you go!” I yell at her, walking faster as the facade of the house gets further away from us. “Y/N, listen to me!”
“Stop following me!” She screams at me; her usually sweet and soft voice sounds angry and hurt. I run faster until I can stand in front of her. I don’t touch her, but I don’t let her pass, using my body like a wall to block her path. “Let me through, Jungkook.”
“No.” I shake my head. Her face twists. Her nose crinkles, and her forehead furrows. I’m sure if she could hit me right now, she would.
“Let me through.” She pleads again, taking short steps that I once again block.
“No, not until you listen to me.” I say with such force that she flinches. Her angry, hardened face transforms into an ironic laugh, which fades as more tears fill her eyes. Her white, smooth neck is filled with veins, as if she’s about to burst with rage. Her breath comes fast, as if she doesn’t have enough air.
“You’re a fucking bastard, a total son of bitch. I don't want to listen anything.” She growls at me. It’s the first time I’ve seen her curse; it’s so strange that it feels like those words don’t belong to her. “How can you do this to me? Yo-You are... I don’t even have words to describe you!”
“I know! I know! I’m a fucking mess, do you think I don’t know that?”
“You’re a son of bitch!” She screams again at me, pushing against my chest. “I want to punch you right now! I want to hit you until you turn into someone Irrecognizable.” She pushes me again, but I hardly budge. Although she’s angry and furious with me, I’m much bigger and stronger than her. I remain silent, watching as the trapped tears begin to flow down her face. The face that so often had been lit up with joy when she was with me, now looks defeated.
“I know... Y/N, I know.” I respond in a whisper. I stop her from pushing me again, holding onto her fist. I imagined she would use her strength against me and pull away one more time, but she doesn’t. Her silent crying takes over her body, and her shoulders shake. The pain I feel seeing her this way, knowing that I caused it leaves me frozen, but my arms move before I can think, and I hug her.
Her face aligns against my neck, and her sobs grow deeper. I open my mouth to say something, to apologize for everything I’ve caused her, but the words stick in my throat, and a voice in my head tells me that even if I tell her how sorry I am, nothing changes what I did. I hurt her, regardless. Apologies, unfortunately, don’t help much in this case.
“I’m sorry.” I say, contradicting all my thoughts. Even knowing that words don’t help at all, I say again: “I’m really sorry. Forgive me, Y/N.” I plead, closing my eyes. I feel her arms wrap around my body, bringing me a pleasure I can't even describe. How long has it been since I felt that excitement from just a hug?
“Stop apologizing.” She asks, pulling away from me. In the place of her warm body, only coldness remains in mine, with her distance. “Why did you kiss him? Why did you say all those things to me and then kissed him?”
“Because I needed to.” I clarify. Y/N opens her mouth to say something, perhaps to curse me again, but I’m quicker. “It’s over. We are nothing more than strangers now."
“How come?”
“That was the last time we were together, after almost five years. After everything, I needed this ending. I realized he no longer fits me.” I say, and not feeling the sadness I felt before, just imagining such a situation, brings me hope. Hope that I won’t have to suffer for Namjoon anymore. That I won’t have to feel anguish and pain over him.
“I don’t... I don’t know what to say.” Y/N shrugs, wiping her wet, swollen face. “But I don’t take back what I said. You really are a bastard.”
“I know.” I agree, unable to deny any of her statements. “And I also know that I hurt you, but I want to fix what I did. I want to fix all the shit I made you go through.”
“I don’t want anything from you.” She presses her lips together; those red lips I love so much, that for a second, I get lost in thought. I miss kissing her. Talking to her. Observing the little wrinkle at the corner of her right eye, every time she laughs. Not when she smiles, but when she giggles heartily. I never thought this could happen so quickly, even after Namjoon, but my heart leaps just thinking about her. Thinking about our kisses.
“Y/N, I can finally fix what I did wrong. That day I was so confused. I told you I didn't want something serious, but I did. I was scared; I just didn't want to get hurt again.” I confess to her, recalling the memories of that morning, when I turned my back on her because I couldn't bear to look into her eyes, as she left my apartment.
“Do you really think I'm going to believe all of this? After everything you've done to me? You're being a damn liar, a manipulative jerk." she grunts; I can see the anger in her eyes, the disbelief radiating from her.
“Y/N, I needed that. To finally know what I wanted.”
“You needed a kiss? You're a joke. Seriously.”
“Believe me.” I plead, my voice a whisper. I lean closer to her, holding her face in my hands. Her cheeks are flushed from crying, from the turmoil of emotions. “I want you.”
“I won’t be your consolation prize.” She whispers back, furrowing her brows. Y/N seems so determined and strong, that it's like all my words means nothing to her.
“You’re not.”
“I won’t be your second option.” She repeats, grunting at me.
“You’re none of that.” I repeat, irritated that she even thinks that way. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks away, as if she could be saved by someone amid the darkness of the neighborhood. When she finds no one else, she sighs, biting her lips hard.
"I wish you had said all of this earlier. How can I believe anything you say now?" she asks, and unfortunately, I have no answer for that question.
"I'm sorry again," I beg, defeated. "Y/N, can I take you home? Can we talk about this somewhere else?" I ask, a bit hesitant. I want her to understand that even though I made many mistakes, I'm willing to do anything to show her how important she is to me. Y/N shakes her head, however, breaking all my hopes.
"I can't be near you. Every time I'm close, I end up losing control." She says, and I completely understand what she means. Whenever we're alone, I feel an energy between us that draws us together like an invisible magnet. I smile, agreeing with her.
"I can't control myself when I'm with you, either," I respond earnestly, and her previously sad face lights up with embarrassment.
"Jungkook, stop," she pleads, almost through clenched teeth. Her cheeks are flushed now, thanks to my words.
"I'm telling the truth. Deal with it."
"I really need to go," she changes the subject, shaking her head. Then she sighs, looking at her fingers. "I... I’ll call a taxi." She turns her back to me, before I can react.
"What? What do you mean?" I follow her again, as she walks back to Yoongi's house. Y/N looks at me, as if mentally questioning what I'm doing so close to her, but I don't care.
"Jungkook, go back to your party," she commands, walking faster.
"I'm not letting you take a taxi home at this hour. Forget it." I shrug, annoyed. She may not want to listen to me or look at my face, but nothing will convince me to let her go with a stranger in the middle of the night.
"What does it have to do with you?" she questions without looking at me, and I have to walk faster to get in front of her again. Her irritated, mocking, and sarcastic expression fades, when I look her in the eyes.
"Stop talking like that. Do you really think I don't care about you?"
"You are a—"
"I’m a jerk. I know. I just asked if you really think I don't care about you. Do you really think I don’t want what’s best for you?"
"I don’t know," she replies, shrugging. "After tonight, I can't think about anything else," she argues, furrowing her brows. I step closer to her, taking a short step forward. Her perfume, different from Namjoon's, completely captivates me. It's as if everything about her is designed to drive me crazy.
"Y/N, let me take you. My car is over there, across the street," I whisper, locking my gaze with hers, noticing how her pupils dilate when she accidentally glances at my mouth.
"I don’t know," she repeats, as if she’s fighting something internally.
"I'll take you. We don’t have to say a word to each other. You get in the car and then get out when we reach your place," I conclude, hopeful. She pauses for a moment and sighs, looking at her fingers again. It seems she's contemplating my offer for a few seconds, still uncertain.
"Okay," she says softly, as if afraid of her own decision. Her voice, once filled with anger, now sounds neutral. If I could choose any superpower right now, it would definitely be the ability to read her mind.
I clear my throat, nodding, and slowly step back from her, wary that any sudden movement might make her change her mind. My car isn’t too far away, so we walk in silence for just a minute. Yoongi's house still seems lively, with people coming and going through the main gate. I take one last look at the place, mentally thanking myself for leaving the car key in my pocket, as I glance at Y/N without saying a word. She remains silent the whole time, while I quickly open her door and then mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice how she pulls on her seatbelt and looks at me for a moment, as if she’s examining me.
Even under her gaze, I don’t utter a single word. My whole body feels tense, alive, electric. I dare to contemplate her, the same way she does with me, taking in her from head to toe, from her Converse sneakers to her dress that’s much larger than her body, with a small slit opening on her left leg that, for God’s sake, reveals her smooth, soft skin –the same skin I had touched and taken everything from, just days ago. I clear my throat and start the car, reluctant to leave my spot.
A sudden rain starts to wet the windshield, and I thank the universe for, even if not intentionally, give me more time with this. The entire drive is a torture and, at the same time, a source of pleasure. I keep thinking to myself that if I can’t convince her, this might be one of the last times I ever see her before I go to Seoul. I savor everything about her: her scent, her presence, her calmness amidst so many storms, trying to imprint all these details in my mind. How did I get to this point? How could I be so confused about Namjoon when I’m clearly in love with her? Obsessed with everything she does?
When her house comes into view, I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry. I want to say so many things, yet no words seem right. I look at her face, and almost immediately, she looks at me too. We both sit in silence, listening the rain and lost in thought. Then she smiles shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Thank you for bringing me," she says, looking down. "And I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have cursed at you. I shouldn’t have said all those things. I... Jungkook, I wanted to see you hurt, just like I felt, but I had no right. I was wrong for that. I want you to be happy. I want you to be loved, no matter who you’re with." She confess, and her eyes crinkle the way only hers do, calm and serene. I open my mouth to say something, to affirm she had every right over me, but she gets out of the car before I can tell her everything. "Goodbye." She whispers with a weak smile, giving me her back and entering before the rain makes her wetter.
I stay there for a moment, frozen, breathing heavily. I look at the door of her house, and then at my mother’s, thinking that, unlike my father, I’ve always considered myself brave. I’ve always seen myself as a confident person. With everything that has happened in my life, I have never taken a step back, and I have never let fear paralyze me or hold me back from anything. I get out my car hesitantly, but I don’t stop. I walk quickly to the short steps, and ring the doorbell, freezing with cold and the water. Y/N opens the door a second later, almost as if she was waiting for me on the other side. Her face illuminated by the yellow streetlight.
"Y/N, I don’t want you to leave my life," I declare breathlessly; my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest. "I have no right to say this and I don’t even deserve you to listen to me, but I want you to know that since the first time I saw you, at your bedroom window, everything about you caught my attention. The way you speak, the way you look at me, how you listen to everyone as if they all deserve your attention, how empathetic you are, and how simply good you are... I can’t stop thinking about you. I talk about you to my friends, to my mother. I miss you even when we haven’t seen each other for a short time... I don’t want this to end. Us. I don't want us to end." I laugh desperately, not even knowing what I am doing, filled with hope and moments of us together in my mind. I can literally feel my blood rushing through my body, pulsing strong like never before.
"Jungkook, you—" She tries to say, but I stop her by placing my hands on her cheeks. I lean in so close I can feel her breath on my face.
"I know I’m an idiot, but I’m so damn in love with you that I deserve a second chance, just to show you that I’m worthy of you, that I can make every day, from now on, the best day of your life." I whisper, gazing into her eyes. They widen in shock and surprise. Tears form in them, and one falls onto my thumb, on the apple of her cheek.
"I’m in love with you too," she confesses in a whisper, and I have to lean in closer to assure myself that I’m not dreaming. She smiles, as if she senses my confusion. "I’m in love with you too," she confirms, just for my ears.
And I can’t hold back any longer. I can’t anymore. It's when I kiss her, so intensely and suddenly, that it takes her a few seconds to respond. Her soft lips form a sweet smile against mine, and I can't help but chuckle too, happy, content, all at once. She places her hands on my face, tenderly, and then winks at me. Her eyelashes brushing against the tops of her cheeks because of the rain.
"Come in, I don't want you to get sick from the cold," she invites me, pulling me in. Then she kisses me one more time.
Thank God for this fucking rain.
Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments
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@ane102 @joonwater @ttipa @kookienooki @missbangtangirl @kelsyx33 @minimoninini @myjungkookthighs @elivision
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yelena-bellova · 1 year ago
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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart
Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents
A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!
—————
Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?
Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?
Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!
Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.
Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.
There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.
She’d ignored every single one.
She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.
True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.
In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…
“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.
Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.
Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.
They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.
Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.
Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.
Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”
“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”
If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.
“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.
Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”
“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.
“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.
“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”
Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”
“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”
“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”
Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.
She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.
Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.
—————————
Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.
She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.
Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”
“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”
“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”
Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.
But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.
He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.
“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”
Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.
“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.
“Help with what?” Y/n asked.
Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”
Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”
“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”
“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”
Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.
Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“
“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”
Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.
“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”
Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.
“He’s quite handsome.”
Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.
Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”
“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.
Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”
Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“
Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”
“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“
“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”
Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.
“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”
Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.
She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.
Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.
—————————
Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.
Man City versus Richmond.
Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.
She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.
Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.
She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”
Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”
“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”
“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”
“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”
“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.
Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.
The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.
A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.
Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.
“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”
“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”
“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”
The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”
Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.
“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”
“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”
Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?
Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.
“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”
The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“
“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”
Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.
Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.
“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.
Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”
She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-
“Hey, Y/n!”
She stopped in her tracks, so close…
Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.
“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”
In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.
“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.
Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.
She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.
—————————
Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.
Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.
The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”
“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”
“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”
Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”
“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“
“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”
While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.
“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”
“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“
Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.
“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”
After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.
“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”
Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.
—————————
At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.
From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.
After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.
“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.
“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”
Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”
Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.
“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.
Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”
Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?
Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.
You’ve Got Mail.
She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.
For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.
After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.
“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“
A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.
“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.
She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.
“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.
“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“
Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.
“Keeley, what-“
“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.
Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.
“No.”
“Y/n-“ Keeley began.
“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”
“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”
Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”
Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.
The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.
Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.
They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.
“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.
“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”
Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”
“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”
“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”
“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.
“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”
“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.
“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.
“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.
“OI!”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.
“Fucking hell!”
“What the fuck?!”
Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.
“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”
Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.
Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.
They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.
Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.
Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.
They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.
“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”
Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”
“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.
“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”
“Yeah, who are you?”
“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”
Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.
Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.
Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”
While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.
They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.
“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”
“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”
“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.
Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”
“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.
Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.
“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”
A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”
Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.
“Hello, Mommy.”
Y/n’s eyes widened.
Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”
“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.
“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.
“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.
“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”
Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.
“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”
Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.
“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”
Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.
Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.
“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.
Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.
She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.
Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.
“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”
Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.
“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”
Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”
Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”
“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.
Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.
“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.
Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.
“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”
“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”
Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.
“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.
“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.
Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.
Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”
“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.
The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-
“Fucking hell.”
Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.
“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”
Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.
An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”
As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.
“Fucking hell,” she grunted.
“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”
Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”
“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.
“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.
“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”
Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”
Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.
“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”
“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”
Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”
“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”
Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.
Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.
“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”
“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”
“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”
Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”
“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”
If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.
“They’re okay with it,” she answered.
“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”
“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”
Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”
“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”
Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.
The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.
She was speechless.
“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”
“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”
The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.
“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”
“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”
“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”
Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”
Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.
Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.
Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.
“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.
“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.
Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.
“Hey.”
Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.
“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.
“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.
For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.
“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”
Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.
In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.
But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.
This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.
“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”
Y/n cries began to shake her chest.
“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”
A single cry escaped Y/n.
“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”
Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.
“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”
Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.
Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.
For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.
Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.
“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”
Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”
“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”
“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”
Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”
“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”
“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”
Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.
“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“
She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.
In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.
Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”
Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.
“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.
Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.
He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.
“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.
Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.
Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.
With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.
Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.
Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.
Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.
Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.
“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.
Jamie nodded.
“Does she feel the same?”
There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.
“No.”
——————
Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)
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tiredfox64 · 7 months ago
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Part three of Go for the Kill? But its based ok the ending where reason is with all three of the brothers? She soon gets knocked up and the threee fight over whose it is? >:3
The Soil was Tilled Enough
Prior notes: I knew somebody would ask for this. Had a That’s so Raven moment when I was writing that last part.
Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader
Warnings ‼️: You’re gonna have a stroke with my reasoning.
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You are faced with a light pink stick in your hands. You were growing tired and sick just days before which worried the brothers a lot. The last thing they want is for their vicious woman to grow horribly ill. Oh but this is no illness. This is the miracle of life.
Yeah this is a strange situation. Truly a spectacle that has some people, or more like someone, disappointed. Liu Kang ain’t too happy that his paid assassin would be out of commission for at least a year. What he also doesn’t like is hearing that the brothers are fighting over who is the father. The yelling is really getting annoying.
“It can’t possibly be your child! I slept with her first!” Bi-Han yelled directly in Tomas’ face.
“We all slept with her first! You are just jealous that the baby is possibly mine!” Tomas yelled right back.
The only one staying calm was Kuai Liang. He stayed right next to you, rubbing your belly as you contemplated the same thing. Who is the father?
Alright, so you put too much faith into Plan B. Guess it wasn’t made to handle loads upon loads of baby-making liquid from men who probably never allowed themselves to feel relief in quite a while. Plus the fact that they love you a lot made the chances of you getting pregnant much higher. I think they were aiming for that goal but I’m not a mind reader.
“What are we gonna do? Are we ready enough to handle having a baby and raising it?” You questioned, concerned about way too many things.
“Of course can handle it. The baby will be in safe hands. Even if the baby is not mine I promise to take care of them as if they were my own.” Kuai Liang made that promise to you.
Kuai Liang really loves you and just wants the best for you. He doesn’t want you to worry too much especially now that’s you are pregnant. His commitment to you made you feel a little better, knowing he won’t be mad about whose baby it is. The other two…yeah that’s gonna take some time.
At this point Bi-Han had Tomas in a headlock which made Tomas start punching Bi-Han’s arms in defense. Kuai Liang ran in to split the two apart.
“Enough of this! This fighting won’t solve anything.” He yelled at them both.
“I do not understand why you are not threatened by the fact that Tomas might have impregnated her. What good will that baby do coming from a man like him?” Bi-Han was being harsh again which made Tomas punch him.
“It does not matter. She is pregnant and she wants to keep it. We must support her no matter what.”
Kuai Liang was right and all the brothers had to agree with his statement. Though Bi-Han was still being as stubborn as ever. If he just keeps the mindset that it’s his baby in there he will be fine.
“Well, do you know how far along you are?” Tomas asked.
“Considering the last time we did it was a couple of weeks ago and I’m getting sick, it might be four to six weeks.”
Oof, if it’s six it can only get worse when it comes to the symptoms. Get ready to start taking bathroom breaks and getting sick from smells.
“It will still be a few weeks before we can get a paternity test done.” You added on.
“We should do that. Settle this debate early on whose child this is.” Bi-Han was on board with doing a paternity test even though he didn’t know you can test that while still pregnant. It’s that old mindset don’t worry.
“I want to the know the gender first. I wanna see if we are having a baby boy or a baby girl.” Tomas gushed at the idea.
“No you don’t, Tomas! We will not wait to find out the gender first.”
“Yes we will, brother. It will teach you to have some patience. It will also test if you still love her enough to take care of her while she is going through this.”
Kuai Liang was shutting Bi-Han down at every opportunity. How dare his little brother accuse him of not loving you. Fine, he’ll wait. They’ll all wait. And as that goes on they will start preparing things for you like a nursery. They gonna spoil the hell out of you.
A woman who is pregnant is a strong woman indeed. They will make sure to take good care of you. They will do their parts as the possible fathers.
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
Finally! Week thirteen! You can expect your results to be one hundred percent accurate when it comes to the gender. Now here’s the interesting part—
“WHAT!” You, Tomas, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang all yelled at the doctor in shock.
…I didn’t get to finish. Let me speak up. Damn…
As I was saying the interesting part was that as time went on you noticed your belly was getting quite big. It was a little too early but you didn’t think it was anything much. This was your first time being pregnant so you thought it was normal.
Not necessarily.
“T-twins? We are having twins? And they are all ours?” Tomas was questioning the doctor on how accurate it was.
The ultrasounds did show two little babies. Two little nuggets growing inside you. And they are both boys, congratudolences!
“It’s called Heteropaternal superfecundation. It’s incredibly rare but it can happen. Especially to someone with three partners.” That doctor was throwing shade at you. She was just jealous.
“So one of those boys is definitely mine,” Tomas was all smiles, “But what about the other one?”
Yeah, what about the other one? Still got the other two. They are blood related so this might be harder.
If it’s Kuai Liang’s this might not end well for him since Bi-Han was staring him down with a death glare. Luckily the doctor had something to say about that.
“That’s the thing, we can’t tell. Because they are related there is some difficulties. So as far as any of you know, they are both the father of that other little boy.”
Kuai Liang is content with that. He is just happy to start a family and have a child with you. Bi-Han…ah he gives up. There is no point in being upset about this. There is nothing anyone can do. He’ll be happy to have a son of his own that he can train and possibly be the next grandmaster to the Lin Kuei.
All the brothers are happy to be fathers to a wonderful set of twins, dizygotic twins to be exact. Tomas is already imagining having the twins play together and teaching them to take care of one another. Kuai Liang is imagining caring for them both and teaching them to be good brother. Bi-Han already preparing in his mind a plan to train his son. That’s his responsibility.
The tension between the brothers dissipated. There was no reason to fight and stress you out even more. Looks like they better get more things ready for the babies. The nursery has to be big enough to accommodate two of them.
You have a good support system going on here. I hope you are happy with your multiple lovers and your set of twins.
Oh don’t tell me, you want to know who the father actually is. Alright so the clinic didn’t actually have the advanced technology to figure out who the father was when it came to Kuai Liang and Bi-Han. They were only certain on Tomas.
The true father is…I don’t know. What? Did you think I knew all? No! Even I don’t know. And do you even wanna know? Just let be happy that they are happy. Now get some rest, mama. You have a long journey ahead of you and it’s called motherhood.
After notes: Why do I keep doing twins? I’m scaring myself. Here’s a fact about me I have a high chance of having twins if I were to get pregnant. Yeah, I know, crazy. Please tell me I haven’t manifested this for myself my period still hasn’t come oh gosh 😭. I would have done triplets for this fic but nature doesn’t work like that. Well since I’m done I get to eat. Adiós! (Pls make my period show up y’all)
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majoryeager104 · 5 days ago
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i can’t stop sending you requests buttttt what’s your opinion on this: what about teen touya having a so and enji knowing it (sadly) and he would force touya to stop seeing them because they’re a distraction for becoming the hero he wants to be. we all know that’s touya’s dream but on the other hand we’re talking about the only person who actually understands himmmm. thk uuu
omggggg this is awesome thnx for the requests tho cos I love doing em 🫶
Warnings: angst, good ending tho bc I can’t handle traumatizing Touya any more than he already is lmao
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“I think the two of you should part ways for the sake of your career”
Those simple words from his father caused him so much inner turmoil as he heard them. Touya had been with you for months, and he was just saying this now!? He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “Excuse me?” He said, his voice sharp with conviction, breath shaky with emotion. Enji sighed, sitting back in his chair. “You need to focus on your goals, otherwise you’ll end up failing-“
“no actually I mean excuse you.” Touya snapped, standing up from his seat. “Failing? Don’t make me laugh, I’m not gonna fail just because I’m happy for the first time in my life” Touya said rather roughly, clenching his fists as he looked down at the shallow man he had to call a father. Enji furrowed his brow, irritated now as he attempted to resolve the situation. But Touya refused to let it slide, not when his future- the one he wanted to share with you- was at stake.
“Touya-“ “don’t interrupt me! Even if you’re right and I do fail, at least I won’t fail like you have! At least, unlike you, I don’t throw away the people I care about for my own selfish goals!” He shouted, his fists so firmly clenched that he felt nothing but anger and searing pain, like if he got any more upset he might make himself bleed. He didn’t mind though, his rage blinding his concern for his own wellbeing as he glared down at Enji “Touya I’m telling you as your father that it would be for the best.” “My father? You finally want to be my father!?” He raised his hands in the air as if Enji had just admitted defeat. “And you think this gives you the right to control my life any more than you already have!?”
His palms were definitely bleeding now, his fingernails cutting through the burn-scarred skin. He took another shaky breath, trying to reel in the shuddering anger. Suddenly Enji slammed his own fists against the desk in front of him. “That’s enough! I’m not asking. Your behavior is unacceptable. I’ve already contacted her parents, and we agreed it would be best for both of you. It’s over.” Enji snapped back, his words nearly stopping Touyas thudding heart.
It’s over.
Two words that Enji shouldn’t have any right to utter, but he did. Suddenly, Touyas violent resolve crumbled beneath him, and he fell back into the turmoil that he now identified as grief. “You…you what?” He said, his voice shaking under the weight of his own shouted words, as well as the emotions hanging over him. He took one step back, than another. The world seemed hazy. They decided this, not him, not you, so how is it final?
“Y/n’s parents already spoke with her. And unlike you, she didn’t argue.” Enji clenched his jaw, hoping to resolve this, whether it hurt Touya or not. He didn’t care if it was a lie- that you’d reacted the same way Touya did- all he cared about was that Touya focused on his work. Because his masterpiece Shoto wasn’t ready yet, so he needed his broken mosaic of a son to pull through and succeed where he failed- a broken man living vicariously through the lives of his sons. now at this statement, Touyas rapid heartbeat nearly stopped. You…didn’t fight? Didn’t even talk back? No…no that can’t be right. He stared at his father for a moment, before spinning on his heels and walking out, slamming the door rather violently. So violently in fact, that the door handle melted slightly under his currently barely controlled quirk. He didn’t care though, storming into to his room and locking it, scrambling for his phone. he had to contact you. He had to. He needed to know why you’d let him go like this. Why you- someone who understood and accepted him unlike anyone else- had given up on him. The mere thought made him want to cry. He pulled his phone from his schoolbag frantically, the screen lighting up. To reveal several messages and missed calls
from you. he sighed in a vague sense of relief, sitting down as he opened your messages where you relayed to him what your parents had requested- more specifically, that you’d rejected the idea, and left. So Enji lied. Of course. but his anxiety still remained, eating away at him as he stared at your contact on his phone. that is, until he got another text from you
”hey, open ur window”
And heard a knock at his window
and he turned to see your familiar face smiling through the glass, waving sheepishly in the rain.
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unsolvedjarin · 1 year ago
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Can we have more mentor!Seb x Ferrari driver!reader? Maybe she wins in Monza the same season as the last fic? 👀
note: sorry it took me so long to get to this request, life has been KILLING me lately. this one is pretty short but hopefully you enjoy!
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FOCUS.
part one here but can be read without <3
pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (mick schumacher x ferrari driver! reader AT THE END)
summary: monza was never an easy race, and that certainly wasnt changing anytime soon. but maybe some luck is on your side this year— and a supportive mentor.
content warning: none besides my verb tenses being all over the place
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Max had gotten pole. So not good for you.
You lost P2 as well to Lewis by two-tenths of a second, but P3 was fine, P3 was good. Hopefully good enough for today. It was finally Sunday, and you couldn’t be more excited— it was finally Monza.
“Well the goal is to win,” you say, although it comes out muffled with food in your mouth. Sebastian had invited you to paddock brunch on race day, and you were not one to turn down free food.
Swallowing, you add, “I mean obviously the goal is to win. We’re in Monza, that’s every Ferrari driver's goal.”
The Aston Martin driver had been listening intently to your complaints about Ferrari’s performance recently, and from what he’s hearing, it’s not looking good. Not only was the car lacking in pace, the team itself had bad strategies left and right. While you had gotten a podium back in Spa, it was starting to look like it'd be the last podium for Ferrari for a while.
Charles had DNF’ed last race, and you ended up P9. Not a great result, but it still kept you third in the Construction Championship. This race, however, was too special to have a mediocre result.
It was the home of the Tifosi; the people, the cheers, the chants, it was all for Ferrari— all for you. You couldn’t lose in Monza.
“So you think you’ll win later then?” Sebastian asks, taking a bite of his own food.
“Well I don’t don’t think I’ll win, so there’s that.”
“What a strange type of confidence.”
“Thanks, I try.”
Sebastian laughs, a genuine one that makes you smile as well. You’d been spending more time with him since learning about his retirement at the end of the season, which says a lot when you were already always together. He didn’t mind though, he loved spending time with you above all the other people on the grid– well, except for Mick. He tagged along sometimes when he could. You liked having him around too.
“If it amounts to anything, I think you can win it.”
He always says that. ‘If it amounts to anything’ or ‘If it matters,’ as if everything he says wasn’t important to you when it was. “Thanks Seb, but save that optimism for yourself, you need it,” you tease.
You say it in a joking manner, but Seb knew there was a hint of seriousness to your words. Aston Martin hadn’t been performing well either, and if you considered Ferrari’s performance bad, then you could call theirs atrocious. You knew it wasn’t Seb’s fault, he had been trying to contribute to the efficiency of the car with his knowledge and he pushed it every race.
Nodding, he sighs, and you can sense the tiredness in his breath. 2 years of a slow car will do that to you. Before you could give him any comfort, however, a Ferrari employee calls out your name for you to get ready for the race.
“Good luck Schatzi, I believe in you,” Seb says, getting up from his seat. You get up and hug him tightly, smiling when he hugs you back just as tight.
“You too Sebby.”
“Do what I couldn’t,” you hear him whisper.
You don’t reply. You don’t tell him, ‘I’m sorry,’ because he already knows. He knows because you’ve told him it before many different times on many different races when he used to drive for Ferrari– but you’ll always remember Monza.
It was his dream, the most important thing he wanted out of joining Ferrari besides winning the championship with them. But he never got it. Every year he was there, something took the win out of his grasp. Engine failure, collision, slow pace, no grip, it didn’t matter what the reason was. He never got it.
You separate, both going to get ready. You’ll make him proud, you think to yourself.
The race was tight. Lewis was giving you a good fight, always just less than a second away, but conveniently farther whenever you were in a DRS zone which meant you couldn’t overtake him. Thankfully, he slipped up during a straight, and gave you enough slipstream and space to pass him.
Then it was just you and Max. He was 10 seconds away, and you were so sure it was over. But then he pitted a little too long, giving you enough time to take his position.
And then you were leading.
You were leading in a Ferrari in Monza.
Holy fucking shit.
Just one more lap, one more and you could see it– you could see the end.
“...Y/N L/N SEES THE CHECKERED FLAG, AND COMES TO WIN THE ITALIAN GRAND PRIX! FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2019, FERRARI WINS IN THEIR HOME RACE!”
You couldn’t believe it.
You won. You won in Monza. In a Ferrari.
You did it.
If the screams of the fans were loud in Spa, the cheers of the emotional Tifosi were deafening here. Exiting your car, still shellshocked, you’re immediately approached by Max, who gave you a quick hug in congratulations.
Slightly snapping out of your buzzed state, you run towards your crew who was on the other side of the barrier, practically jumping into their arms. They couldn’t believe it either. When you finally removed your helmet, the muffled sounds of everything else suddenly became clear, and somehow the already thundering roars of the crowd had gotten louder.
Despite all that commotion, all that chaos and celebration, there was only one man you were looking for. You heard he had DNF’ed, which meant he would be in his garage, but you didn’t care. You were going to look for him before you got on that damn podium.
While Max and Lewis went to the cooldown room, you got ready to sneak out and go to the Aston Martin garage, when a hand grabs yours and spins you around to face them. It takes you a second to realize what was happening, but when you did– “SEBASTIAN!”
He enveloped you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You could hear his proud laughs, and you started laughing as well. You had done it.
“I ca-”
“I-”
You both start at the same time, making you both laugh even harder. You gesture for him to start first, and he does. “I can’t believe it. You actually fucking did it,” he says, the joy evident in his cussing.
He walks with you back towards the Podium, an arm around your shoulder looking proud. When you get to the side stage you pause in protest, but he reads your mind before you can say anything. “Go, we’ll talk later.” He gives you a little nudge, and off to the platform you go.
You asked Charles once, and he told you that when you get up there on the platform, everything goes quiet. You would see the crowd, the fans clad in red, and you would feel the love, but you wouldn’t hear it– as if all their cheers mixed together into a large vast silence. One thing would come into focus, and when you see what you’ve focused on, it’ll all make sense. For him, it was a man wearing a shirt with the number 17 on it. In the large mobs, it was the one thing his eyes had focused on.
For you, however, it wasn’t in the crowd. It wasn’t in the endless support of the Tifosi, nor the trophy given to you. No, it was in the man you could see in your peripheral vision, standing on the side, clapping proudly and looking at you as if no one else was on the podium.
Sebastian. It was him. Your mentor, your father figure, your friend. You finally understood what Charles was always rambling about. That loving feeling— not one you feel with a romantic partner, but the one that buries itself deep into your soul and grows over time, unseen and unnoticed, but when you finally focus on it, everything makes sense.
The second the podium festivities ended, you ran into Sebastian’s arms and hugged him tightly, not minding the cameras all around you. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he hugged you back, not letting you go.
Tomorrow— not today while the chaos of the fans was still ongoing— the media will spew rumors about you and the older driver, but you don’t care. Not when you’re finally happy here; content.
With content tears flowing freely down your face— along with some champagne from earlier— you finally disconnected from the hug, looking at Sebastian with a grin.
He looked confused, “What’s happening? Are you alright? Is everything okay?”
Shaking your head with a laugh, you reply, “It’s fine, everythings okay. I just— I can’t believe I did it. And with you watching. I couldn’t be happier.”
Sebastian takes a moment to intake what you said. He had never felt this way before. Never felt so utterly proud of someone. You had done what he never could, had finally achieved the Ferrari dream he had always wanted for himself. He could see himself in you now, the sheer joy of a win with a team he always wanted to win with. He couldn’t be more happy for you too.
“Sebastian?” you ask, worried about his silence. Maybe what you said was too much, too forward. But then he smiles softly at you, and you can see the tears welling in his eyes.
“You have no idea how proud I am of you.”
You breathe a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god, I thought you were thinking of scowling in disgust or worse; not hearing what I said and making me repeat it.”
He laughs, a hearty one, and you laugh as well. The roar of the crowd was still loud, but amidst all the chaos, your eyes still only focused on one person.
“Dinner?” he asks softly.
“Yeah, let’s get dinner.”
a bit of bonus for my mick girls out there:
“Y/N!” you hear a voice shout from across the paddock. It catches your attention, and you turn your head to the Mercedes hospitality where the voice came from. Sebastian is beside you, an arm around your shoulder, accompanying you for a post-race dinner.
“Mick! What’s up?” you ask, disconnecting from Sebastian’s hold to walk towards him. He meets you in the middle, giving you a quick hug before smiling.
“I just wanted to congratulate you on your win. We should celebrate!” he says, pausing for a moment as if thinking how to word his next sentence. “I was thinking— just a random thought really— we could…go out to dinner to celebrate? I mean just throwing ideas out there, you don’t have to.”
He’s looking everywhere but at you at this point, his eyes pointed down at his shoes and you can see his hands fiddling in his pockets. You notice Toto Wolff watching from the hospitality, but you pay no attention to him, instead keeping your eyes on the man in front of you.
“I’m sorry Mick I would love to, but I’m actually going out to dinner with Seba—”
“He can come,” Sebastian butts in. “He can join us, I have no problem with it.”
“Oh, then great!” you exclaim, nudging Mick softly. He looks up at you with a slight red dusting on his cheeks you don’t notice. Oblivious, you intertwine your arm with his, walking with Seb tailing the both of you.
You ramble on about the race to him and don’t notice when he turns his head around to face Sebastian quickly, who was giving Mick two thumbs up with a cheeky grin. The younger driver blushes softly, before going back to facing you and listening to you talk.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, however, the older driver was already secretly thinking of an excuse to get the two of you alone at dinner.
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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 1 year ago
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Accidentally Finding Family (Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader) *PLATONIC, PARENTAL
Characters: Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader
Universe: Marvel, Avengers
Warnings: HYDRA, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, mention of death of family, mention of amputation
Request: Hi can I request a teen reader where she is kind of like Bucky and is a hydra agent that is from the 40s and the team finds her in a base in cryofreeze and Steve and Bucky help her learn to adjust to the future and maybe Bucky helps her deal with nightmares? Or maybe she also has a metal arm and he helps her become less insecure about it idk. Also she ends up seeing Steve and Bucky as parental figures with cute family bonding? Sorry if that’s all over the place!
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“Do you have any goals you have in mind for the next year or so? Next five years?” The question, targeted at Bucky, was being asked by his therapist. A few months ago, Bucky wasn’t sure what he would have answered with. A few months ago, Bucky was still filled with grief of a life lost, a life tainted with torture, his memories torn and ripped to shreds with only little fragments he could make out. But Bucky had done a hell of a lot of healing since rejoining his best friend. With therapy, Steve and Wanda’s help, those shreds of his past were being sewn back together, he’d come to accept that while his past is something he’d never fully recover from, he was still in possession of a young body, ready to try to live the life he actually wanted to live before HYDRA. A life with his new friends, and his one old one. He was ready to look into the future. 
He sat back, relaxing into the settee, thinking to himself, before he let his thoughts leave his mouth. “A family.” He started. He looked over at his therapist, who smiled, nodding and notioning him to elaborate. “I loved looking after my little sister before the war. I loved looking out for Steve when he was still a punk… I think it’s always been a part of me to want to look after and care for people. Biological or adopted… the idea of having a child, someone to look after, someone to care for, be there for… to be needed by someone… I’d like that.” 
“That’s definitely a doable goal I think. I think you’re finally in a place where you’d be able to be a caregiver. If you want to be sure, there are volunteering positions to help people at events- young children, camps for teenagers, so on, so forth. There’s also courses to give people more skills and knowledge on raising children that I can enrol you in?” She suggested. Bucky agreed. Not long after all of that, the session ended, and Bucky began his walk back to base to see if anyone had heard from the rest of the team yet. Almost all of the Avengers- except Bruce- had gone out on a mission. Originally he had been meant to go himself, but when the team found out that he had a session booked the same day and he might not make it, they removed him from it, knowing that his healing is far more important than another gun on their already overpowered team. 
About halfway through the walk, was when his phone in his pocket buzzed repeatedly. He felt it easily, and he pulled the phone out, seeing Steve’s name on the front, and he answered it, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey Steve, I’m on my way back now, are you already back?” He asked Steve, continuing his walk. 
“Bucky I need to ask you a serious question and I need you to answer me to the best of your ability.” Steve’s serious tone made Bucky freeze on the side of the street. His eyes darted around the busy streets, finding a corner that was silent and hidden in shadows, and dashing over to it, before answering Steve. 
“Alright. Ask away.” Bucky answered. 
“Do you know of any other Winter Soldiers?” Steve asked, and immediately Bucky’s heart thudded.
“N-No. Wait, did you find more?” Bucky asked. 
“We don’t know… she’s a kid, Buck.” Steve answered. Bucky wanted to be sick, his mind already racing on what exactly they had found. A girl, a young girl, a child, according to Steve. And from whatever information and evidence they had found, it was enough to point them back to the Winter Soldier program and him. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. 
“Is she alive?”
“Yeah. Yeah she’s alive, we’re trying to treat her for a few injuries, but we’re having issues… James I think… she’d really benefit with you being here.” He told his best friend. That seemed odd to Bucky. He was a mythical monster to the other weapons of HYDRA, used to scare them into obeying, and he had no doubt that stories of him, even after he had escaped, would have been used to bring fear, especially to children. Still, he trusted Steve and his judgement. 
“Alright. I’ll be there soon.” Bucky answered shortly, hanging up, and his once leisurely stroll back to base, turned into a long sprint marathon. 
He arrived back in less than 20 minutes, finding Natasha already waiting for him, her motioning for him to follow her. “How did you find her?” He asked her. 
“They realised we were attacking them and raised the alarm, and seemingly let her loose with some of their other agents to try and slow us down. That didn’t happen though.” Natasha explained, power walking through the base. 
“What do you mean it didn’t happen?” Bucky asked. 
“She turned on them. She killed several of the guards and scientists herself and we found her in the process of trying to kill the head researcher. He’s getting medical care- it’s 50/50 whether he’ll live or not, not that I really care. After we stopped her, she surrendered to us, but she’s not talking and won’t let anyone touch her. We really don’t want to restrain her Buck, since that will undoubtedly make her worse, but I realised she was bleeding from her leg and we think she’s been shot but we can’t treat her.” Natasha explained, stopping at a door, and finally turning to him. 
“How can I help with this? If anything, she’s going to have heard about me and become terrified.” He questioned, her features softening into a sad smile. 
“Can you take your jacket off and your glove? So she can see it?” She asked. Bucky’s eyes darted down to his arm, flexing his robotic fingers, before looking up at Natasha, unsure and confused. “We’ll introduce you, just… be as soft and kind as possible with her, okay? Trust me.” She asked. Bucky sighed, and with some hesitance, he removed his glove, shoving it into his jacket pocket, before pulling his jacket off, leaving him with just his short sleeve shirt, his arm on full display. Bucky nodded to her, and she opened the door, stepping in and aside to let him in. 
“Come on kiddo, I promise it’ll be over before you know it.” Bucky walked into the scene of Tony trying to talk to you, offering a small bag of fruity snacks, though you kept your head down and totally ignored his presence beside you. Bruce was on the other side of you, looking lost on what he can do without making anything worse. Steve was leant against the nearby wall, spotting Bucky and Nat first, and he stood up straight. Bucky glanced at him, before properly looking at you, and when he did, he understood. 
You were sitting on the medical bed, legs stretched out, your head low, and your arms hugged against your body. Your arms were what Bucky hyper fixated on. They were metal, both of them, all the way up to the shoulders. You had tucked your arms to the best of your ability under the thin blanket that already had a growing blood stain where one of your legs were. Bucky wasn’t sure what had happened to you that meant you had to have both your arms amputated and replaced by robotic ones, or even if there was a reason or if they just did that, but that didn’t matter right now. You were clearly uncomfortable with them being seeing, and your hatred for being touched was something that Bucky empathised with. 
“Thanks for coming so quickly.” Steve spoke up, making Tony and Bruce turn as well, and after a moment, Bucky watched as your eyes also looked up to see who was there, and met his. He was convinced he’d see you flinch, be terrified, and he would make this whole situation worse, but then your eyes left his, and fell onto his arm, and he watched you relax. You actually relaxed in his presence. That immediately made Bucky relax as well as he slowly stepped closer. Tony moved out of his way so he could be by your side.
“English?” Bucky clarified and you nodded at him. “Alright. I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky. I know better than anyone how scary this all is, and how you probably really don’t want anyone prodding or poking at you anymore.” He spoke softly, keeping eye contact with you. He caught in the corner of his eye that you raised one arm from under the sheets, hesitantly reaching for him, specifically his metal arm. He reached out as well, carefully taking your metal arm in his, and your eyes stared at his arm, as the metal sheets slid and moved to adjust, similar to your own, before you looked back at him. 
“They hurt you too?” You asked quietly. Bucky swallowed hard, knowing who ‘they’ were, and he nodded. 
“Lost it originally from falling out of a train, but they kidnapped me and did this… my friends have helped me adjust, and they want to help you too.” He explained to you.
“They…” You hesitated, looking down at your hand holding his, before continuing. “They took mine. I don’t know why. They just did.” You explained to him, and Bucky nodded along, listening to you while also clenching his jaw, trying not to cry. Trying not to squeeze your hand on accident because of his anger. 
“They were wrong for doing that, they were pure evil, and I promise you, you’re safe now, and they can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” He smiled reassuringly. “As soon as we tend to that bullet wound, we’ll get you settled in, you can start school, be a normal teenager, or as normal as you can be, how does that sound?” He asked, and after a lot of hesitation, you nodded, and with Bucky holding your hand, you allowed Bruce to tend to your wound. 
You didn’t talk to anyone for the first week, other than Bucky, but slowly started talking to the others as time passed. They got you situated in one of the bedrooms on base, but after FRIDAY reported you kept hiding under the bed or locking yourself on purpose in the bathroom and sleeping on the cold tile floor, Bucky made the suggestion to move you into a smaller space. He didn’t have to go into detail when explaining you weren’t used to sleeping on a nice warm bed in a giant room, and how it probably felt alien and wrong to sleep there. Tony didn’t have any rooms that were smaller that could function as a bedroom, and it was Steve who suggested you move into an apartment with one of them, that someone clearly being Bucky. Bucky, like showing up to see you in the first place, wasn’t sure about that idea- worried he’d have a relapse with his nightmares and scare you, but he trusted Steve. Tony paid for an upgraded apartment- a two bedroom in brooklyn, still a small walk away from Steve if he was needed, and Bucky moved all his stuff in before they moved you in. 
“This is the place.” Bucky told you, opening the door to the apartment, and you cautiously stepped inside, looking around. Bucky didn’t have a lot of things, so other than a bookshelf crammed with books, an old radio, the bulky television and some photos before the war on one wall and another wall of photos from after escaping HYDRA. James wasn’t sure how you’d react to all this, so he watched you diligently. He walked around, leaning on a wall, just watching you. He saw your eyes look around, before you spotted his old radio- one that was close replica to the ones before the war- and you seemed to relax, before walking over to it, gingerly touching it, before turning it on, tuning it a little, seemingly disappointed at the radio station, before looking around, and spotting the pre-war photographs, and walked over, looking at them, and smiling. “You like them?” Bucky asked, walking over slowly. 
“They remind me of before the war.” You commented, before seeming to think and turning to him quickly. “Are you from before the war too?” You asked him. Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together. 
“Are you? Y/N, what year did they take you?” He demanded. 
“1940… 1945? I think? The war was still on…” You explained to him, looking back at the photos, spotting him in his uniform. “You were a sergeant?”
“Y/N.” Bucky stepped closely, gently grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “You were kidnapped by HYDRA before the war? You were frozen?” He asked. You nodded. Bucky hated that. He hated that there was yet another thing you shared with him. Metal arms, HYDRA, lives before the war, being weapons, and thrust into a new world. He’d long accepted that it’s just his life now, but that it happened to you? A kid? He hated it. “Y/N… What do you remember about your life before the war?” He asked. 
You talked for hours. Sitting down on the couch, you just talked about all you remembered, bits and pieces, sometimes certain memories popping up from talking and you’d interrupt yourself just to talk about them. You told him about your parents, your dad being in the army, your mom working in a factory where they made ammunition and ballistics, where unfortunately an accident happened with fire and an explosion, and your mother was killed, leaving you alone for a period of time with your dad other seas and unable to return, and no other family to care for you, before you were sent to go live with a foster family until after the war. That family were actually HYDRA. You didn’t know what happened to your dad, if he survived the war, and if he did, if he looked for you or if he was told you had died and he moved on, maybe had a new family. Maybe you had a step mother, half siblings, maybe you were an aunt now… but you didn’t know. Bucky took the time to text your dad’s name and rank in the war to Natasha and ask her to look into him, and she responded an hour later with an obituary, and a date of death and cause. Killed in action. Bucky told you the news softly, and it was then you stopped talking. You sat there for a period of time, just processing what he had said, and Bucky remained sat there, waiting for you.
“...I’m alone, aren’t I?” You finally spoke up. “I’ve lost everything.” 
“Not necessarily.” Bucky pointed out. “If your dad was in the military, then there’s probably photographs of him. If any photos were taken of you and your family before the war, I know for a fact that Natasha and Tony can find them, and we can get them printed and framed for you, so you can have something of theirs… and you have me.” He told you. You turned to look at him. 
“Really?” 
“Of course. As long as you need me, I’m there. I’ve been through exactly the same thing as you, I know exactly how you’re feeling and I want you to be happy and to have as close to a normal life as possible. Since you live with me, that makes me your guardian. If you want to go to school, I’ll go to all your parent-teacher meetings and help with your homework. If you want to do after school activities, I’ll go to all your games and shows and awards. If you want to talk about the 1930’s and 40’s, let’s talk about it, if you want to talk about what happened with HYDRA, let’s talk about it or we can try therapy if you want. Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll support you no matter what. I’m here for you, no matter what, and I’m not going anywhere.” He told you. You didn’t respond at first, and when you did, you didn’t respond with words. Instead, you crawled across the couch to be closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your head on his shoulder, and Bucky hugged you back. 
“I’d like that. Thank you.” He heard you speak. He held you as the sun went down, and only after realizing you had fallen asleep and he was gonna have to carry you to bed, that he realized something. He’d done it. He’d reached his goal that he had set with his therapist just over a month ago. It was totally unconventional, nothing he could have predicted, but he’d gotten his family. He’d found the child he wanted, the person he wanted to care and be there for, to watch grow and thrive and to help them with that. He’d found you. 
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
TAGS: @dailyteambucky @mxrvelsaos @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe
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simplyholl · 1 year ago
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The Villain’s Weapon Pt. 2
Summary: When you hit your head and lose your memory, you fall into Loki's clutches.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Smuttish. Memory loss. Villain Loki. Thanos.
A/N: Thank you @lokisgoodgirl for helping me get out of the corner I wrote myself into. ❤️
See my Masterlist here
Part One
Your breath hitches as your back presses against Loki’s hard torso. His arms wrap around you before slinging you down. He stands above you, and something about it feels familiar. Probably memories of him training you before. He reaches his hand out to help you up.
“That’s enough of that kind of training for today. After lunch, I will help you with your magic.” You follow him down to the basement area. He introduces you to Dr. Selvig who is helping him with the Tesseract. He gives you a tour, trying to jog your memory. He was still the only constant so far. He felt safe. He felt like home.
You held your hand out, concentrating. “It’s no use, Loki. I don’t remember how.” You sigh, ready to give up after twenty minutes had passed. Loki comes up behind you, placing his arm on yours, guiding yours upward. “Don’t think too hard. My mother taught me that it should come naturally. Close your eyes, relax.” Your shoulders slump, as you free your mind, only concentrating on his velvety voice.
“Think of something that makes you happy.” You turn to look at him. “I don’t remember what makes me happy.” You cast your eyes downward, cursing yourself for your situation. You would give anything to remember what your life was like. “Think of what has made you happy today. Surely there is something.”
You close your eyes again, thinking of how happy you were when you recognized Loki on the battlefield. How you were so relieved to have him there. You thought of how tenderly he patched your wounds, how his touch started a fire within you. “That’s it!” Loki shouts. You open your eyes, seeing a blue glow in your hand. You turn around, practically jumping into Loki’s arms. After two hours, you were managing your powers significantly better.
While you were taking a shower, the floral scent of your soap brought forth some memories. They were of your childhood and your parents. You were shocked you remembered anything at all. You hoped your next recovered memories would be of Loki. As you wash yourself, you ache between your legs thinking of him training you. You stroke yourself trying to soothe the ache and your mind fills with memories of your second boyfriend on top of you, thrusting sloppily. You quickly stop, ready to get out of the shower. It was overwhelming to remember so much at once.
“She is a fast learner. Her instincts are still there. She fights like she always has. In a few more weeks, she will be better than before. I can’t wait to see the looks on my brother and those imbeciles’ faces when they see their precious teammate helping me.” Loki gives The Other the update. “He still thinks this is a bad idea, Asgardian. But he won’t go back on his word, it’s only been a day, so you have some time to use her against them.”
Loki paces his bedroom. Why was the Titan so against his plan? He would show him that he was wrong. He had one of his goons prepare the evening meal. He insisted you dine together. He needed to keep an eye on you to make sure your memory hadn’t returned.
When you were finished, he walked you back to your room. “Loki, sorry if this is awkward, but I need to know something.” He nodded in response, curiosity eating away at him. “Have we ever?” You gesture between the two of you. His face lights up in surprise at your question. That was the last thing he thought you would ask.
“I’m only asking because of the way my body reacts to you. And I didn’t mean to look, but I noticed you were aroused when you left last night.” Loki takes a deep breath, considering his words carefully before answering. “No darling, we never had that kind of relationship. We are just friends working toward the same goal.” Disappointment floods you, but you try to hide it from him. “There was a time when you came onto me." You raise your eyebrows, already embarrassed by where this was going.
"The Avengers had us cornered. We were certain death was near. You confessed your desire for me and I was concerned you were going to rip my clothes off me before we escaped. But nothing happened. We never spoke of it again." You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You just had to ask. "Loki, I'm sorry. I just felt like there was something there. That's why I asked." You cover your face with your hands, trying to look anywhere but at him.
He was pleased with himself. He knew you were attracted to him, but now he made you think you were a wanton slut for him. That would make you avoid touching him more than necessary. It was for his benefit. If your unexpected touches and embraces were an everyday occurrence, he might grow fond of you. He could not let that happen.
But he couldn’t help but notice you looked disappointed. Did you want him that badly? Of course you did, he was a prince, a god, the rightful king of Asgard. And very soon he would rule over this pathetic planet. He watched you carefully. Chest heaving, eyes darkened, thighs clenched, you wanted something to happen when you asked him that.
Loki’s blue eyes gleam mischievously. He could tease you a little. He pins your body to the wall with his, leaving no room in between you. He trails his large hands over the straps of your dress, sliding one down your shoulder, he notices your breath hitch. He smiles satisfied with the effect he has on you.
“Is this what you want, little one? You want me to touch you?” You nod, knowing you would be unable to utter a coherent word. His fist trails between your breasts, stopping to cup one. He gives the tender flesh a firm squeeze. You think you might burst into flames if he doesn’t do something soon.
“Loki, please?” You beg, and you swear he’s holding back a laugh. “Please what?” He smiles. “Please touch me.” You beg him. He spreads your legs with his own. His large hand caresses your inner thigh. “Like this?” He asks you, hand getting higher.
His long fingers finally reach your damp panties. “Norns, you’re so wet for me already.” He purrs in your ear. “Hey boss” Clint bursts into your room, taking notice of Loki’s bulky body holding you against the wall, the strap of your dress hanging off your shoulder. How Loki’s hand is under your dress and you are both breathing heavily. “Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Clint clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling.
“What do you need, Agent Barton?” Loki asks, fingers still caressing you through your panties. “Sir, The Other needs you to get into contact with him immediately.” Loki reluctantly pulls away from you. You whine when his fingers aren’t on you anymore. You see the smirk on Loki’s face when he hears it and the blush on Clint’s. “Lead the way then.” Loki gestures to Clint. They both leave the room, Loki doesn’t even look back at you as he exits.
Part Three
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gallierhouse · 5 months ago
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thinking about how 2.05 was the realist 'armand' we've seen. everything else is a performance, especially dubai. wonder what it takes for him be willing to break through that facade and expose himself for someone else to see.
I think that’s half-true. Dubai is a performance, Paris is a performance, San Francisco is the closest we get to seeing cracks in that facade. But the thing about Armand is that he doesn’t really have a personality. He has desires (and duties) and he’s goal-oriented about fulfilling those desires (“”). He thinks Louis wants someone safe, someone who’s not like Lestat, so he becomes that person for Louis. I’m not really sure if I’d call that a performance, though. It is a role he inhabits, it is a mask he puts on, but it’s not really like he’s obscuring other parts of himself on purpose. This isn’t really a wolf in sheep’s clothing situation. It’s more like the wolf has successfully deluded itself into thinking it’s a sheep. He’s a method actor. He’s embodied the role. There’s no real differentiation between the role and who he is. He’s not really attempting to obfuscate who he “really is,” because there’s nothing besides the method. He’s a black hole of desire and duty. Everything else follows from that. How do I accomplish my duty? How do I fulfill my role as maitre? How do I be what Louis wants? How do I make Louis stay with me?
In San Francisco, he’s upset because Louis has broken their arrangement that, to Armand, implicitly states that Louis is free to do whatever he wants as long as he comes home to Armand. He’s upset because Louis isn’t home on time, both physically and emotionally. He shared his life with someone who isn’t Armand. It was a betrayal. Therefore he punishes Louis (and Daniel). It’s true his emotions boiled over and he found himself unable to continue playing the role of Louis’ gentle, safe partner (“gremlin or the good nurse”) but it’s also a rational response within Armand’s framework of understanding relationships. Louis wants security. Armand provides security. Therefore Louis should stay with him. However, despite him providing security, love, devotion, etc., Louis has been disloyal. And how do you respond to someone breaking a contract? By enforcing it. Louis also calls him boring, which is the insult that stings the most. Armand’s purpose in his relationship with Louis is to be what Louis wants. So if Louis wants interesting, wants conflict, wants Lestat, well, he can be that person too. He is emotional, and he is hurt, and angry, and fraying at the edges, but it’s not inconsistent with “the role.” It’s part of it. He’s the same person. Nothing’s changed.
If you’re talking about wanting to see an outwardly emotional Armand, I’m sure we’ll see it in the finale. Armand really does believe in his performance as a method actor, so I don’t think he goes for outright falsehoods and lies. For him it’s closer to obfuscation. He’s all very self-controlled, so even though it’s obvious that there’s a streak of genuine sadism that runs through him, it’s not any more or less real than the self-control. I guess my point is that there’s not really a “real” Armand. He’s dedicated to the performance. He embodies his character. Anything that seems out of character is usually a rational response to someone not following their part in the script he’s written in his head. If only he does what this person wants, then they’ll do what he wants too. It’s contractual, maybe sometimes transactional. It’s duty. So I don’t really think we can peel back all that to find the “real” Armand when he believes in the authenticity of what he does. I don’t think the “real” Armand is his worst moments. It’s the good, too, and it’s the patience, and the devotion, and the need for love, and all the other things he can be. I do get what you mean, though. I’d also like to see him unstable and anguished. It’s fun.
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tyblackthornsheadphones · 1 year ago
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Hiya! Maybe some hurt and comfort fic with the moon boys after the reader got hurt in a street scuffle thing? :)
i reread this only once and yes, i did notice the inconsistent verb tenses but honestly i don’t have the energy to go back and change it. i tried to keep physical descriptions of the reader to a minimum so it should be gender neutral and any race. if not, please let me know so i can fix it.
i also kind of forgot the reader was supposed to be hurt and wrote it more emotional but i hope it’s fine anyway. (i’m so bad at following requests i’m so sorry)
if you wanna support me you can buy me a ko-fi.
the two men had come out of nowhere, forcing you into an alleyway under the dark cover of the night. your only comfort was the thought that your boys were watching the city for these exact types of people, maybe they would come save you. and if you managed to hold off the two men for just long enough, you could get out of this alive.
you weren’t a fighter. marc had taught you basic self-defence, but even so you wouldn’t have been able to take on two big, buff men with guns and eyes that spoke of deranged thoughts and lack of care for any life but their own.
the rest was a blur. a white caped hero throwing punches, a body jumping in front of your own, blood on the concrete and on gloved hands.
“let’s get you home, amor.”
jake was angry, you could hear it in his tone, but you were still frozen in fear from the encounter, your mind buzzing yet simultaneously unable to string together any coherent thoughts. so you didn’t respond, and he carried you home in his arms, jumping into the loft through the window you always kept open for him on nights like these, the one you’d forgotten to close before leaving.
you have a routine for when your boys come back from their duties as moonknight. the suit heals their wounds, but it doesn’t wash away the blood. you run a warm cloth over their skin until the blood and grime is all washed off, a slow repetitive process that gives their mind the time to deal with the violence they committed and store away the memories somewhere far back.
it’s easy to let your muscle memory take over.
“you don’t have to do that tonight,” jake says, “let us take care of you. we want to make sure you’re alright after that.”
you shake your head. there’s still a part of you that’s numb, and you don’t think you could put your feelings into words, you don’t think there’s any real way to voice the way you were convinced you were going to die, the way your brain flashed through everything you regret and your friends you haven’t seen in a while and the goals you’d never accomplish.
the suit falls away and it’s just your jake. not the hero of london or the fist of vengeance, just your worried boyfriend.
you clean his knuckles of the blood that always somehow manages to seep through the bandages that make up their suit. his body tenses, and when you look up, you meet marc’s eyes. his jaw is clenched in a way that you recognise, he wants to speak but doesn’t quite know how to say it, he’s worried talking about it might not be what you need right now.
“i’m sorry,” you say finally, “for going out. a friend needed my help and i thought i could walk back home after. i didn’t think…”
“not your fault,” marc replies, “we should’ve gotten them before they even had the chance to touch you.”
“it’s not your fault either, you know,” you put the dirty cloth down.
he shakes his head. there’s no point in having this argument, it’s the same every time. you argue that it’s impossible to save everyone, that london is a huge city and they’re just one body that can only accomplish so much. marc’s dumb guilty conscience convinces him that any person he can’t save in time is blood on his hands, not the fault of the criminals who committed the act, but his for not being able to save them.
you understand why, and the fights always come back to the same thing.
the last remnants of adrenaline are fading and your hands grow shaky. marc leads you to bed, but you know this is the part where he leaves, back into the headspace while one of the others (usually steven) hold you under the safety of the blankets. he likes to take care of you, to provide, but he still struggles to be soft.
“i was so scared,” you finally admit when the lights are turned off and the room is dark and the boys can’t see your face. it’s easier to admit when you don’t have to look into the eyes of the men who act as london’s protectors, constantly in dangerous situations. you don’t have to deal with the feelings of inferiority, like comparing yourself to marc’s strong and brave ex-wife who would surely have been able to defend herself.
you don’t even know which one is fronting. maybe they all are. when the tears start to fall, all you care about is the comforting familiarity of the strong arms around you and the scent of the men you love.
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sorchathered · 6 months ago
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Sweet Home Texas pt. 2
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A/N- hey yall just a little something I wrote while I was traveling today, I don’t know how often I’ll get to update after this with the move rapidly approaching but I had some free time. :)
Pairing- Jake “hangman” Seresin x Oc Ella Mcree
Warnings- angst, language
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“I can’t do it anymore.” She said with a heaving sob as she crumbled in on herself, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she were holding herself together.
“I’ve been with him for almost 20 years, I don’t know any other way of life but this is…this isn’t a life anymore! Happy moments are almost non-existent, I can’t even remember the last time he prioritized me before his job or his friends, hell I don’t think we’ve even been on a date in at least a year. We are constantly biting each other’s heads off, everything I do seems to be wrong or met with a condescending look. I’m not a child! I’m a 35 year old woman with a thriving career! Just because he has some kind of god complex as a pilot doesn’t give him the right to treat me like I’m stupid. I don’t want to be mean, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think I can be married to him anymore. Love shouldn’t feel like this, love shouldn’t hurt like this. If the end goal is to be together for 50 + years and hate every minute of it then I don’t want it. I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Jake but I won’t do this anymore.”
Jane Wyatt had been seeing Ella and Jake Seresin for couples therapy for nearly 6 months now, and in that time their relationship had shown no growth. Jake dug his heels in and fought Ella at every corner, he knew he worked too much and probably could have put more time into them but he maintained that she knew this was his dream and he was trying to make it to the top. One day things would be easier, she just had to wait it out.
Ella felt like she was dying on the vine, she had put her life on hold for Jake for so long and now that she was thriving in her career and fast tracking it to become the cfo of a major company in San Diego suddenly Jake couldn’t handle it. Having her at home barefoot and pregnant had never been a part of their plan, they both knew it but he felt like he was losing control and took it out on her. Accusations of cheating when she worked late hours, nitpicking everything she did, he didn’t mean to make her feel small but something in his subconscious just wouldn’t let it go. The house was burning from the inside out and he was refusing to throw water on the fire, they’d burn down together and stay married and maybe one day they’d crawl their way out of it.
Jane watched the scene unfolding in front of her, Ella falling apart and Jake white knuckling the chair across from her, jaw clenched so tightly it felt like his teeth might crack. She knew what the diagnosis was and it was one of the worst parts of her job.
Being a couples counselor was not for the weak, and she knew that at one point the two people in front of her had been head over heels in love. But this wasn’t the same couple from twenty years ago, and it wasn’t helping either of them to stay on a sinking ship.
“I’m sorry to you both, you’ve spent over half your lives together and I know this is not how either of you saw it going. My professional opinion? It’s time to take a step away from each other, whether that be for a few months or in dissolving your marriage can’t be determined yet, only time can answer that. But neither of you are good for each other right now, and my opinion is unchanged. You need to let each other go and find out who you are without each other. It’s the only way to move forward.”
Jake was out of his seat and out the door before she even finished, Ella crying out for him as he made his way to the elevators and out to his truck. He finally let himself break when he was alone, he knew it took two people to build a life but he had pushed her to this point. He knew she’d been unhappy and he had done nothing to stop it, nothing to change it, just expected her to push through like they always had. He didn’t know who he was without her, he’d never even kissed another woman before her; how was he supposed to just move on? The thought made him feel physically sick. He couldn’t go home, so he called his wingman, Javy Machado to admit defeat and ask for a place to stay.
That was nearly four years ago, Jake replayed that awful afternoon over in his mind in bed after he’d seen you at the bar tonight, you’d looked damn good. Still all fire and sharp wit, and it reminded him just how far apart you’d grown in the time since then. He had hoped if he gave you space to grow and learned the tools he needed to work on himself that the universe would bring you back together, but it hadn’t. That is until you walked in tonight. Circumstances be damned, he wasn’t signing those damn papers. He’d let this go on too long, he was going to romance you and show you just how good things could be, if you’d found someone else well that poor sap would have to go because the two of you were endgame and he knew it. Now he just had to convince you. Easier said than done.
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🏷️ Tagging- @attapullman @bobgasm @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @jessicab1991 @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @dontletthemtakeyoualive @crazy-ravioli @dizzybee03 @sarahsmi13s @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky @bradshawssugarbaby
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