#what was i to do but pen my inner turmoil

[kindred-spirit-93]

the devil works hard, but people work harder omg

posted something on r/TOMT a lil while ago and my jaw quite literally dropped when within record time some angel had already found exactly what i was looking for. God bless you kind stranger :')

if that wasnt brilliant enough as it is, turns out i had misremembered a lot lol (like the gist of it was alright but the only accurate detail i got was this background character mentioning their daughter), but still, it was ridiculously impressive and im devastated.

this morning i randomly remembered a scary short story i had read back in 2017 ish in highschool as a means of escape from my surroundings. id turned to scouring the small library my school had at the time, and quickly found an outlet in works of mystery and horror.

i read all sorts, most notably the many adventures of sherlock holmes, as well as miscellaneous and less known classics of the genre. this particular gem stuck with me more than the others, which is maybe why now that ive found it, im oddly emotional.

and its the strangest assortment of feelings too, from not expecting anyone to answer, the shock of finding a strong lead, anticipation while reading through it to see if it was a match, a moment of epiphany when id really and truly found it, to the cold bucket of 'oh?' is this it? the cold emptiness after a mission completed, a purpose fulfilled. i dont think ive experienced this wide of a range of emotions within this short of a timespan. i think i went through the 7 stages of grief all at once.

it never fails to surprise me how fast i unintentionally get attached to really insignificant things and let them have their way with me. in this case i think my mind unlocked a little drawer that had been long forgotten, so mush so, its contentents, regardless of how small and harmless they may have been, were bound to overwhelm my senses.

its interesting to think that as amazing and awe inspiring as the human mind is, the brain cant differentiate between whats real and what is percieved as such. a connection to a fictional character for instance is real, even if they arent, the brain builds connections and those, are very real.

i think the newfound (or rediscovered) knowledge of this particular period of my life physically threw me back into my 12 year old body, complete with the whirlwind of thoughts and neurotransmitters that defines that sticky age.

i felt the warmth of the sunshine peeking through the blinds of the library, warming me and the pages between my fingers, but the bitterness in my throat followed when i as an adult remembered what had put us in this situation in the first place. what, or rather who, i was escaping by living through ink beside another kind of monster...

tl;dr - it was The Mezzotint by M.R James that u can read here, highschool sucks, im going to eat ice cream.

UPDATE we ran out of ice cream now im really crying while munching on bugles. bruh 😭

[youreverydayfangirl]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she's gone radio silent, everyone settles down and someone begins to plot revenge

warning: online hate, mentions of cheating

a/n: i thought i should switch between real life and online so i could feed you guys more

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate healing with my girls

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex what are friends for???

-> y/nsprivate I THOUGH JUST BEING HOT TBH

keekslikestospammmm and you better get your cute but downstairs cause we're going out

-> y/nsprivate OKAYY GIVE ME TWO SECONDS

leosfather GO QUEEN

-> y/nsprivate alex is training you i see

livbereallydumb SMASH SMASH SMASH

-> y/nsprivate me whenever i see you

itssabrinaaa YOU DON'T NEED NO TINY DICK MAN AND SKANKY FRIEND

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

________________

Y/n felt a small smile creep up across her face as she went to turn off her phone. She looked up at the warm sun which had begun to set, casting a golden glow along the beach infront of her. The peaceful quiet of the beach was a sharp contrast to the chaos and heartache she had left behind. Still, it had been hard to stay in the moment and she often found her mind drifting back to everything that had happened. Something that seemed to play over and over in her head. Although it seemed everyone else had moved on.

She'd barely touched her phone, forced to reinvent herself and tune out what others had kept saying about her. The whispers, the hate and the betrayal had gone with a swipe of her finger. But the sting of it lingered, a wound that refused to heal.

She quickly grabbed her stuff and shoved it in the bag which lay beside her feet as her mind went to the two girls who were currently waiting in the lobby. They had been rocks for her through this whole ordeal. The trip was supposed to be a fresh start for y/n, a place to forget, but somethings weren't so easily buried.

Y/n hadn't been able to fully trust anyone since exbsf had turned her life upside down. The breakup, the voice recording, it was all too perfect.

Revenge is what had kept circling through Y/ns mind over the past few months. A lot of people had hurt her, turned against her, but their was one person specifically that Y/n kept thinking about. Maybe she wasn’t healing just yet. Maybe she was plotting her rise.

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate not even sad anymore guys, just really mad tbh

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex AND AS YOU SHOULD YOU CLOCK EM

-> y/nsprivate you know i will

keekslikestospamm NEW SONG YOU BETTER SHOW US SOON

-> y/nsprivate trust me i will

________________

Y/n found her self sitting infront of the piano for the first time since everything had come out. She hadn't wanted to, because that would mean that it was real.

But after pushing from both Alex and Kika, the girl finally felt like she was in a spot were she could poor out her feelings. But something felt different this time, she had never felt this angry before.

She sat at her desk, the sunset infront of her casted a shadow across her face. Her notebook was open, was scribbled sharply expressing her inner turmoil. She tapped her pen on her desk, staring at the page infront of her, one line sticking out specifically.

All I think about is karma.

exbsf & landonorris have posted

liked by landonorris, f1gossip and 1, 432, 749 others

exbsf 6 months with you <3

tagged: landonorris

landonorris my gorgeous girl

-> exbsf your too cute

user1 I CANT BELIEVE THEYVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 6 MONTHS OMG

user2 parents frfr

liked by creator

user3 pov its been 5 months since y/n disappeared 😭

-> user4 GOOD RIDDANCE

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate smiling more

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm

thatoneartgirlalex and happy to see it

-> y/nsprivate stop i love you so much

keekslikestospammmm i can still through hands though right?

-> y/nsprivate KEEKS NO

leosfather as your honorary big brother i could not be prouder to see how much you've grown as a person

-> y/nsprivate CHARLIE STOP

livbereallydumb I JUST WANNA GIVE YOU A BIG HUG

-> y/nsprivate you saw me yesterday....

itssabrinaaa livbereallydumb wanna come to portofino with me for no specific reason

-> livbereallydumb already on the flight babes

-> y/nsprivate YOU GUYS BETTER NOT BE KIDDING RIGHT NOW ASSHHH

-> itssabrinaaa SUPRISE

-> livbereallydumb we wanted to make it a bigger thing then realised we dont really know where to go and we dont speak italian

-> itssabrinaaa didnt think that one through 100%

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

TWO WEEKS LATER

________________

im trying to make the parts longer cause i feel like there too short

also do you guys like the switch i feel like i wanna give you guys more than just short SMAU chpaters

_________________

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[paarksunghoon]

Hi I love your content so much I was wondering if you would to this that Jake mistakenly ordered few or one s.x toy that he would use on my later

ugh I’m so mad because I wrote this request, dropped my phone, then it disappeared. anyway hope you don’t mind I switched up the request juuuust a little.

***

Should he put it back where he found it?

Jake holds a baby blue bullet vibrator and inspects it in his hands. The whole reason why he’s in your room is because you asked him to grab a few pens from your desk before you started a study session. But now he’s discovered one of your toys and feels like he could be holding a bomb. He’d have to be a fool to pretend it isn’t a sex toy.

He gulps. Jake isn’t a stranger to this. He’s seen far too many Twitter porn videos to ignore the nature of the device and feels himself growing hotter with every passing second that ticks by. So begs the question: should he put it back where he found it?”

“Whatcha looking at?”

Jake turns around to see you standing in the doorway.

“N-Nothing!”

He panics when you step closer towards him and grab the vibrator from his hands. He watches you hold it up as if to inspect the toy, bringing it eye level until you finally look at him. Jake feels his cheeks warm up and looks down at the floor.

“Now, what are you doing with this?”

“I was just looking.”

“I asked you to grab some pens, not my vibrator.”

He wants to sink into the floor.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have your sex toys lying around!”

The man before you swallows when you chuckle. “It’s my room, Jakey.”

He tries to picture you as you are, in your pajama bottoms and tank top with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet. You look respectable like this. You look like his friend who invited him over for yet another study session that will likely go late into the night.

Instead, all he can picture is you sitting naked on the middle of your bed with this toy pressed right up against you. Jake thinks about what you might look like when your face is contorted in pleasure and what you sound like when you come. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that before now.

“What about all the guys you’ve been sleeping with?”

You shrug. “Some were good and others were mediocre. I need something to tie me over in between hooking up with people.”

His silence makes you laugh.

“Wanna see me use it?”

Jake finds himself rock hard and hovering over your body. He doesn’t have to wonder what you look like underneath your clothes anymore. They’re discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor and you’ve got the toy pressed right against your exposed slit.

He watches in wonder and amazement when you drag the toy over yourself and studies the way your eyes close shut and how your mouth parts open to emit soft pants. Jake doesn’t know if he should look at your face or pussy. He tries to do both.

Amidst his own inner turmoil, Jake feels you pull his hand to cover your own until he’s holding the device. It feels so foreign in his hands when you push it against your pussy but he loves the way you sound when it happens. Jake loves watching the wetness ooze out of you. He can feel the vibrations against his fingertips. It’s so hot.

He fidgets with the toy, dragging it all over your pussy like he’s trying to find the spots that make you tick. He memorizes all of them and indulges your pleasure every time you moan from beneath him.

Jake wonders how you’d react if he turned the volume up a notch. He presses the button again and it roars like a small lion.

“Ah!”

The gasp alone pulls a deep moan from the back of Jake’s throat. He pushes the toy against your clit until your legs shake and hips buck against his hand. Jake uses his free one to hold your legs open and coaxes you into your orgasm, and he swears he’s never seen anything so angelic before.

Slowly, he turns the vibrations down as not to abruptly end your orgasm. He turns the device off when he sees your legs begin to still and allows you to catch your breath.

Although, it seems like the fun isn’t over. You smile at him like you know something he doesn’t.

“We should try it on you next.”

“Me?!”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[seoafin]

nail in the coffin

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags: established relationship, definitely not healthy relationship dynamics, explicit mentions of sex, dubious consent, happy birthday to my babygirl geto suguru im sorry this is so depressing, not exactly angst but not exactly fluff, unhealthy jealousy. talk of pregnancies and children. also mandatory gojo warning tag and he's not even in the fic. word count: ~3.8k read on ao3

“I don’t know what to get Suguru for his birthday.”

Shoko looks up from her paperwork at you. You lay on the infirmary bed closest to her desk, hands neatly folded over your stomach, as if about to relay all your worries to a shrink.

Your distress must be palpable because she shoots you a look of pure amusement. “You’ve done fine these past few years. I’ve never seen a man so happy to receive a potted plant.”

You stare at the ceiling, gnawing on your inner cheek. “It’s different now.”

“Oh?”

It is different now. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe you’re overthinking it, about all the infinitesimal ways things have changed when they haven’t. It feels like you’re the only one floundering, overwhelmed, trying to navigate the dynamics of your new relationship with Suguru and Satoru. Except the two of them are the same as they’ve always been: smiling, laughing, touching you like their hands belong on your skin, bringing you close with the same confidence of two high schoolers ready to take on the world.

Except it isn’t exactly new, according to your two boyfriends. Satoru had said nothing would change. Suguru told you that you didn’t need to be scared, that now, the three of you could stay together forever, and isn’t that what you had wanted in the first place? A relationship was a promise. A promise the three of you shared.

You’re still uncertain. Terrified.

Maybe nothing had changed for the two of them. But you approached the idea of a romantic relationship with apprehension and the panic of a fleeing hare. You’re not made for it, built for their love in a way anyone else would be. A normal, happy person would be ideal. You’re formed a little too oddly: not exactly straight, bent and twisted in sharp angles, and battered in places only a child can reach.

But when they hold you, the world feels like a better place, and everything feels a little more okay. You wonder if they feel the same. And when they kiss you, you do all you can to cling to that feeling, otherwise you’d drown in your constant worries.

It’s a temporary solution to a sinking ship. 

“You’re spiraling,” Shoko hums, the pen in her grip twirling around her hand. “Come back.”

You blink, feeling suddenly restless. “I just…want it to be special. More special.” You hesitate. “Satoru’s abroad too, so…”

Suguru hadn’t said anything about his upcoming birthday. Not even a mention of it. As if he had wanted to spare you this exact mental and emotional turmoil. Overthinking and agonizing over a seemingly mundane event. This morning, he kissed you, a brief passionate thing, before heading to Kyoto for a meeting at Kyoto Jujustu Tech, promising to be back before six. He had headed out the door only to come back three minutes later to take you on the counter, leaving you breathless and sated, your mind in twists and knots. Then while you had been in a daze, he had smoothed over your clothes, hands running over your body (a teasing pinch here and there), drawn you back back on two feet, and kissed you again, murmuring low declarations of love against your lip. 

I love you. I’ll see you soon.

Love, love, love. 

He pocketed your panties.

“You’re overthinking it,” comes Shoko’s reply. “From you, he’d be happy with a rock.” She eyes you as if she can discern every thought. “You don’t need to overcompensate. You’ve always been enough.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest at her words, tension unraveling, despite your uneasiness, and you appreciate them. Any other year, a new book and your sorry attempt at baking a cake would have sufficed. But now you aren’t sure. What do people get their lovers on their birthday? What had Satoru gotten for Suguru on his previous birthdays? Suguru for Satoru? You won’t be able to measure up. Not with all your failings in romance.

After a disastrous first date, and Satoru’s absence, you only want to make him happy. 

You reluctantly rise from the bed. “If Satoru were here…” You trail off. Two weeks abroad in the Philippines experiencing the last of torrential monsoons, discovering the sweets of a different culture, and documenting it all for you and Suguru and Shoko. You never get used to the feeling of missing him.

His presence would be welcome, but you aren’t sure this is something you could confide in to anyone but Shoko. Sometimes, you think your doubts are something they just wouldn’t be able to comprehend.

Just as you feared, a romantic relationship is profoundly different from sex. A purely sexual relationship with Satoru and Suguru had also meant your friendship could remain intact. Separate. Maybe at first, you had told yourself you didn’t mind, not when it made them so happy. Maybe you had always wanted it, but you didn’t need it. You were happy before, content. You don’t know how to be a lover. You don’t even know how to love, not in the way they deserve.

Bent and twisted.

You glance at the clock, feet hanging over the bed. “I should go. Tsumiki’s going to help the girls make a cake for Suguru.” You smile at the thought. Of course, you’d be relegated to clean up duty, but you wouldn’t be alone. Megumi would keep you company, just as he always did. A small extension of your shadow glued to your side while the girls fed batter to Megumi’s divine dogs and laughed, chattering about school assignments and their upcoming school field trip to the aquarium. 

Only then would you be able to forget about your worries for a while.

Getting to your feet, Shoko stops you.

“If you’re really that worried about a gift. Have you considered pregnancy?”

You nearly trip over your feet.

She shakes her head, laughter on the tip of her sigh. “That got your attention, didn’t it?”

……..

Suguru comes home just as the cake has been wrapped and placed into the oven to cook. Nanako immediately moves to stand in front of the oven with Tsumiki, their bodies blocking the cake. Suguru feigns ignorance about the cake as Mimiko clings to his leg. He picks her up in his arms and plants a kiss on top of her head, drawing Nanako away from the oven to demand a kiss for her too.

You’re washing the dishes, giving them to Megumi to dry when Suguru’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you chest to chest. Before you can utter a syllable, Suguru kisses you.

To the delight of the girls, and the great suffering of Megumi, who wrinkles his nose, places the dry plate in his hands on the rack, climbs down the stool, and shuffles away, divine dogs nipping at his feet. The girls follow after him, giggling. Video games in Megumi’s room, you’re sure.

He’s unusually happy. You could’ve sworn he had been whistling the same tune you often hear from Satoru’s lips. “I’m home.”

You place a steadying hand on his chest, a slow smile spreading on your face. “Welcome home.”

Suguru chuckles, brushing the hair out of your face fondly. “You sound like a housewife.” Then he glances at the apron tied around your waist, and kisses you again until you’re breathless, fingers fisted tight in his shirt.

“I was thinking,” he says, not disheveled in the slightest. Unlike you. “How about we go out tonight? There’s an izakaya that just opened up not far from here. We can go and decide whether or not it’s good enough to appease Satoru’s high taste.”

As long as there were sugary drinks and more sugar, you’re sure that would be more than enough to keep Satoru quiet for dinner.

“I don’t mind.” You look on the counter and realize Suguru brought home takeout KFC for the kids. Mimiko will be delighted. “I thought you had to get up early tomorrow—”

“I can be late,” he replies, lips curling into a mischievous smile. “I wasn’t planning on an early night anyway.”

Your face heats at the implication. At the memory of his lips this morning, the shape of his hands, and the burning desire of his gaze. You look to his pocket, unconsciously, and his lips pull into a teasing smirk. You look away, embarrassed. Feel heat pooling between your thighs underneath his darkening gaze.

You don’t get to ask him about what he might like for his birthday, what Satoru’s gotten him on his previous birthdays (before you had been added to this convoluted romantic equation), or anything of that note. Mimiko runs back into the kitchen and demands Suguru’s attention for a school project.

……..

The izakaya is bustling, close to bursting open with the amount of patrons seated around the wooden counter and in small, packed tables around the restaurant, forcing people leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder. Suguru leads you in, and you can’t help but be amused at the way the waitress brightens at his arrival, and the sight of her disappointment when she catches sight of you, next to him. There are two empty seats at the counter and you raise an eyebrow at Suguru. On a piece of paper in front plastered to the front door: No reservations.  

Upon being seated, Suguru and the waitress, Akari chat about the popular items on the menu as you look around the small area bathed in dim lights, and the scent of meat grilling on charcoal. You’d like to come here with Shoko on your next night out, and drink. Cheers erupt from across the izakaya. Five or six tables haphazardly pushed together to make one long table seating what looks like drinking college students. Girls on one side, guys on the other.

“A mixer,” Akari says, almost apologetically, as Suguru takes your jacket and hooks it behind him. She takes out a notepad and a pen. “I’m sure they’ll be ready to leave soon. You know how college students can be!”

“A mixer, huh,” Suguru muses. “I don’t miss those.”

“I’m sure you were popular with all the girls,” Akari blurts out. As if realizing her words, she flushes prettily. Suguru looks faintly embarrassed at the compliment, ducking his head.

“Well, I doubt I would’ve noticed either way,” Suguru says with a short chuckle, apologetic. “There was only one girl I was only ever interested in so…”

He’s looking at you. Even though the izakaya is thoroughly heated to stave off the winter cold outside, your face warms, insides twisting, and you swallow. Suguru takes your hand, massaging, warming it up from the biting cold.

“Oh!” She replies, clasping her hands together dreamily. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Three years, give or take. It feels like we’ve been together since highschool though.”

You blink. Three years? Since high school? According to your estimations, it’s only been three months. You don’t have time to dwell on it because Akari asks if you’re ready to order. 

Suguru orders a little bit of everything. Braised foods, grilled foods, potato and cucumber salad, tuna and salmon sashimi, and two large pints of hakkaisan. You hadn’t planned on drinking tonight, but Suguru only grins conspiratorially, (“you have to try the seishu if you want to come here with Shoko”) and he’s right. Only the best for her. You note the menu has an entire subsection dedicated to western ice cream sundae desserts. Satoru will definitely like that.

Akari takes your order and briefly returns with your appetizers and two large pints of Hakkaisan. Suguru takes a picture and sends it to Satoru. Your phone vibrates from the force of the rapid stream of texts sent by Satoru's fast fingers. You turn your phone on silent.

When you take a large, long sip, it’s Suguru’s turn to raise an eyebrow. He wipes the foam off your lips and licks it off his thumb. You pointedly look away. Suguru’s laugh is good natured.

“Now,” Suguru murmurs, still audible despite the increasingly present background noise. He lightly bumps his leg into yours. He looks concerned. “What’s on your mind?”

Three years. High school. Birthday presents. His birthday. It all dies on your tongue.

“How was the meeting?” You ask instead.

Suguru doesn’t push. “Fine. Boring. Naoya was there.”

You down the rest of your Hakkaisan as Suguru looks on. You don’t know if you can be sober for this conversation. You don’t know if you want to. Satoru- kun , Suguru- kun . You frown. When there’s nothing left in your glass, you let him feed you a glazed meatball.

“Nothing about—”

“If Naoya wants to inherit the clan, leaving Megumi alone works in his favor. We both know how he feels about his inheritance, and I doubt he’ll change his mind.”

(Megumi, aged ten, coolly staring down at a seated Naobito: No. Thanks.)

“ Killing Megumi works in his favor,” you point out. It’s awful. He’d do it too like the coward he is. You’d previously held no strong feelings towards the Zenin other than annoyance and mutual dislike. He had liked Satoru and Suguru well enough, trailing after them while thinking you an eyesore, severely annoyed at your resistance to calling him Naoya- sama like his servants back home. Where, to him, is exactly where you belonged.

At least Shoko- chan is useful . Even if she is a woman, he’d said. You didn’t need him to tell you what you already knew. When he crudely told you that there were more useful things she could be doing, like passing down her reverse cursed technique, you had activated your own cursed technique and pushed him into the lake.

You supposed he was still sore about that, although you, yourself, had forgotten about it. After that altercation in high school, you never saw him again. Until Megumi.

“They won’t take him.” You say severely. “I won’t let them.”

Megumi and Tsumiki were yours , just as much as Mimiko and Nanako were Suguru’s, and you’d fight tooth and nail, just as you had when you were a high schooler to protect them. 

“ We won’t let them,” Suguru says gently. “We’ll protect the children.”

You relax at his words. The three of you. Just like it had been in high school. But also it’s not really the same is it? Now Suguru and Satoru kiss you like they’ve always been doing it. Nothing’s changed, you hear Satoru say in your head, but everything has. Now you regularly fall asleep to the sound of soft breathing, sandwiched between two bodies, and wake up to hands roaming your body as if they belong there. And when they fuck you, it’s so tender you’re unsure of what to do. You never dwell on it too long, you can’t, because they’re insistent on keeping you with them, in the heat of the moment, until you’re so strung out you can’t formulate words. Again and again, over and over—

Have you considered pregnancy? 

You aren’t even sure Satoru or Suguru want children, least of all with you. You’d be a horrible mother. Children—

You don’t know. Not anymore. It’s all so confusing. So you order the strongest whiskey cocktail on the menu, and ask for an extra dose of whiskey as Suguru looks on, and when Akari delivers it along with your first courses, you down the entire thing. And then order another.

……..

To everyone’s great astonishment, you had been twelve drinks in when Suguru cut you off. You’re not drunk. You think. Everything is slightly tilted towards the right but that might just be the weight of your head tilting precariously to one side. Even the dim lights are bright to your eyes. Okay, you’re drunk.

Suguru is looking at you, slightly swaying on your stool with such a lovestruck expression that the tangled bundle of nerves in your stomach slightly settles. You love him so much. But you also know that you are poisoning this relationship, this thing you have Satoru and Suguru, with your fears and concerns. It’s not right. It’s all your fault.

You love him and Satoru so much it feels like your heart might burst. You’re so happy that any day you’re terrified it might come to an abrupt end. You’re not ready for it to end. It will end. It always does. And it’ll be your fault for being so weak. For giving in. 

You stand, placing a hand on Suguru’s shoulder to steady yourself. His hand automatically goes to your waist.

“Washroom,” you tell him and you slowly make your way to the door, Suguru’s gaze following you all the way inside. The buzzing of the fluorescent lights scratch your eyes as you hover over the sink and sigh. You shouldn’t have drank so much.

You breathe, splash water on your face, and wash your hands. You aren’t sober, but you’re on your way. When you exit the bathroom, two college aged girls are sidled up to Suguru, and you stare.

You aren’t quite sure what to do. From the looks of it, they could just be having a conversation. You’re ill equipped and unprepared to handle a situation like this. But then the brunette puts her hand on Suguru’s shoulder and smiles, white teeth flashing, lips ruby red. Her friend with dyed blonde hair and a voluptuous chest begins to start playing with a lock of Suguru’s hair.

The hair that he had left down because you liked it down the most.

Everything’s changed, you think, making your way over. It’s not fair for Satoru to say it hasn’t. If it had been before you would’ve been fine. You would’ve quietly excused yourself and made yourself scarce. You would have encouraged it. You would have wanted them to be happy with a nice, normal girl. It was alright when it was just sex. They promised that that was all that it was. Just sex. A way all three of you could feel good. Mutually beneficial. But they had to kiss you, bring you to tears and then kiss those tears away.

Maybe if you give us a kiss first , Suguru would croon, underneath you, watching your heaving, desperate body with lidded eyes. Satoru’s nearly luminescent gaze hungrily trained on you as you struggled to form words.

They had to want more than you could give them.

When you get to your seat, conversation falls to a sudden silence. The two girls size you up, but you don’t pay them attention. You don’t bother to say anything. You grab a still seated Suguru by the middle of his shirt and pull him up into you for a long kiss.

You try to keep it chaste, but Suguru doesn’t let you, doesn’t want to. There’s a nip at your bottom lip, a demanding swipe of his tongue, but you refuse him entry. He’s smiling into your lips when you squeeze his shoulder, hard enough to hurt, and the two of you separate. He’s not even out of breath. Just so pleased with himself you wonder if he planned this, let some random girl touch his hair, touch him.

You tell yourself you don’t care. 

You turn on your heel, leaving him with the bill.

It doesn’t even take him five minutes to catch up with you.

“Are you mad?” He asks, your jacket on his arm. “You forgot your jacket—”

“Suguru,” you say. “What do you want for your birthday?”

You can tell he hadn’t been expecting that, because he momentarily blinks. Then smiles. When Suguru is taken off guard, it’s difficult to tell. Because he always smiles, but there are tells in his expression. “Anything wou—”

“Shoko said I should get pregnant.” You leave out the part where she had been joking. “Is that what you want? You and Satoru? How many children?”

You’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it. Birth control was only so secure, and Satoru and Suguru liked it, finishing inside of you.

You wouldn’t be averse to it. Satoru would give you a girl. Suguru, a boy, and maybe another girl. 

Suguru’s throat bobs, watching you. He thought you were joking. You’re not. “A couple,” he says slowly, gauging your face. “Girls,” he says, expression soft as he looks at you. “Satoru wants girls. A boy or two, so Megumi wouldn’t be alone.”

There’s a future here. It terrifies you so much. They want it, the both of them, this future you aren’t even sure you’ll be present for. 

“Now,” you say, licking your lips. You won’t let him look away, not now. “Tell me what you want for your birthday.”

“You,” he breathes out. He looks sad. “All of you.”

“Okay,” you say simply. Quietly. You’d do anything for him. For Satoru and Shoko. You look down at the frost lined streets and let your breath mist in the chilly air. You wordlessly take your jacket from Suguru and put it on.

You press your face into his chest. His arms envelope you. He’s warm, and for a few seconds you listen to the steady rhythm of his heart.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You don’t mind if they hurt you. Never did. You look up at him. “I love you.”

His hands are surprisingly warm when he cups your face like you are the most precious thing in the world. But now you’ve made him sad. “I love you,” he says softly. “I love you so much.”

His words are undeniably true. He loves you. He and Satoru, in ways you never asked for. In ways that have brought them nothing but suffering. You don’t know if it’s worth it. You wonder if they regret it. You would’ve been forever content as a spectator.

In four days Satoru will be back home, right back in Suguru’s arms. He’ll kiss you greedily, all consuming, as if to make up for the lost time, and then the three of you will end up in the bedroom the three of you now permanently share, clothes strewn all over the room. Satoru will fuck you first if he hasn’t already had Suguru. Then Suguru. Then he will spread the rest of the night buried between your thighs, below you, on top of you, leaving his mark on your body, as if to make up for the lost time while Suguru takes your mouth. Then the two of them will fuck you together. You will cry, cling to them, and kiss them. Messy, cum swapping, consuming exchanges that swallow you whole. They will kiss you back to devour you, and only then will they be satisfied. 

In the pale light of the morning, sometimes you press your ear to their chests, close your eyes, and listen. Like listening to the call of the ocean, the tides, in the opening of a conch. No two heartbeats are the same. Not even theirs.

But right now Suguru is not asleep. You close your eyes and dedicate yourself to memorization. In four days you will lie awake on Satoru’s chest, and listen to the heartbeat that makes him human.

Right now though, you think, this is enough, and you are content.

a/n:

-when i conceptualized this it was initially haha you get drunk and kiss geto. wouldn't that be cute. and then it turned into this. in an effort to defend myself i will say that the people wanted an established relationship!

-so i know this fic ends on a debbie downer mood but i swear they will talk about it. sometime later. maybe. rip!mc is just a lillll dumb so. she just needs space y'all (and maybe an apartment (to herself))) and we all know what boundaries mean to One Gojo Satoru. also yes geto can be a male manipulator at times. that's why we love him.

-yes rip!mc attempts to murder naoya yes she forgets about it right after. that's just how irrelevant he is. she probably saw a cat right after or smt idk.

-rip!mc still does not know stsg have been pining since hs. shoko is like you still haven't told her and geto is like. baby steps.

-nail in the coffin is a whisky cocktail made with japanese whisky. i thought it was hilariously ironic. also if ur a true shoko fan you should know she orders whisky cocktails in the light novel!!!

[drysdaleknieslee]

Wipe Out - Part 2

I chose to keep the name but change the contents which made this part longer so thank you all for doing the poll.

Word count: 2000+ (i hope you enjoy this)

No warnings in this but rabid Rutger and sweet and blushy Luke!

“Luke needs a pen, Lia, but he doesn’t want to use ours for whatever strange reason,” said Ethan, snickering.

“Mr. Edwards,” said the professor, who looks like he does not have the patience for four rambunctious hockey players at 9 in the morning (neither do I), “is there anything you would like to share with the class that pertains to Economics?”

“No, sir. I’ll keep it down.” “I hope you will.” He said before continuing with the lecture.

A few more minutes go by before I feel something small hit the back of my head. “You can’t aim for shit, Fridge!” I heard Tyler whisper behind me. “So much for hand-to-eye coordination.” The Professor then puts on a video for the rest of the class that ‘carries a lot of information on the material we will learn in this class.’ He’s got his feet kicked up, watching the video as if necessary.

I feel the small object again make contact between my shoulder blades. That’s it.

I whip my head around before whispering, “If you idiots throw another piece of paper at me, I will lose my mind. Luke, here’s a pencil. Next time, ask. And Rutger, you do have terrible aim.” With this, I toss Luke my only good pencil and turn around to act like I’m interested in what the video is saying.

The rest of the class ended smoothly before we were dismissed. I have a two-hour window to give me time to find where I’ll be doing ski practice. As I walk out, I catch the four hockey players in the corner of my eye. They’re nudging Luke towards me as they seem to have inner turmoil before he finally faces me.

His cheeks turned a light crimson before making their way to me. “Hey,” is all he says while scratching the back of his neck, eyes facing the ground, “sorry about class today. The guys can be… well,” as we both look behind him to see the other three snickering like a pack of hyenas.

“It’s not a problem, Luke. Next time, though, ask me for a pencil. I don’t mind.” He cheers up at this, giving me that lopsided grin again. “Oh!” he digs in his pocket and pulls out the pencil I gave him earlier. “You probably want this back. It’s a good pencil. Don’t want you to think I was stealing or anything.”

“Keep it,” I say, giving him a small smile. “I’ve got a bunch of them back at the dorm.” “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. No biggey.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face as he sticks the pencil back in his pocket. Then I suddenly remembered practice. “Oh, shoot, I gotta get to practice. I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye, boys!” I say before heading to the practice site.

“Bye, Lia!” I hear the boys scream in sing-song voices. Yep, this year isn’t going to be boring at all.

Fast Forward to Practice

“Alright, ladies! Welcome to the first official practice for Michigan’s Women’s Volleyball. My name is Coach Z, and this is Assistant Coach Mills.” She said, gesturing to the woman beside her.

Coach Z played volleyball for a living. She was a tall redhead with piercing grey eyes. You can tell she meant business. The more I looked at her, the more I saw the Olympic rings tattooed on her left wrist. She went to the Olympics!? She’s the real deal! Coach Mills was way more petite, maybe at 5’6, than Coach Z’s 6’2. She was a brunette with glasses and wore her hair in a messy bun. She was going to be the nice cop out of the two, I can tell.

“This year is a redemption year. Last year, we took a hard loss at championships against Penn State, and I intend on us coming back stronger and harder. Hush it, Hannah!” she said to the snickering blonde in the back. Her face reddened immediately as all eyes were on her. “I know your sister and mother. Don’t try me,” Coach Z warned.

“Now that we have formalities out of the way, I want to see if you are conditioned enough to even get to championships.” Uh oh. “First, we’ll run four laps around the gym, two sets of 30 jumping jacks, two sets of 25 burpees, and then we’ll play some actual ball.”

We all stood in shock. No one moved. Coach Mills calmly pulled out her stopwatch and said, “Laps start now. If anyone is slacking or not putting in their best effort, we’ll add another lap or high-intensity workouts. Time starts NOW!”

We all start running around the court before they drop something else on us. I have no idea how this school is ranked 12th because these two ladies will kill us before championships are even around the corner.

We make it through the drills and the exercises before playing a scrimmage game. I’m on the yellow team, which represents the away team in this case. This is to give the coaches a look into the type of team they’ll play with. I noticed right away that there’s not a lot of communication. “Hey Hannah,” I say, tapping her shoulder after the first set, “you’re a hitter, right?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Look for me next time you approach the net. I can’t send it to you if you are too early. And Lindsay”, I say to our Libero, “You’re a little late on getting to the middle. That’s why they keep attacking there. Maggie gives her some backup, too,” I say to our middle blocker.

After forming this plan, our side started gaining momentum and earning some points. We had to dig some to save a few, but ultimately, we returned and won the last two sets. Coach Mills dismissed us to the showers before Coach Z yelled my name and someone else.

“LI! Adams! I need to see both of you for a second.”

Another girl and I walk back onto the court. ‘Adams’ stands at 6’0, brunette with blonde highlights, and looks to be a senior.

Coach Z looks both of us over for a second before speaking. “How old are you, Li?”

“17, ma’am. I graduated early,” I say, answering her silent question to go along with her bewildered expression. “Jesus! Ok, Adams, here is our senior in command and our captain. Sorry, I didn’t introduce her to you all. I like seeing everyone act a fool before nearly shitting their pants because the captains have been there the whole time,” She said, snickering. Coach Mills rolls her eyes at this.

“I tell her every year to stop, but to no avail.”

“Anyway, Adams, do you think I would be a good addition to our captain roster for next year?”

Huh? I’m going deaf or forgetting English.

“I don’t see a problem with that. She brought her side back in the last two sets. She’s got a high volleyball IQ.”

I’m forgetting English. Are they talking about me? This is only my first day. Maybe if I try to translate in my head-

“Li!”

“Yes! Sorry, say that again?”

“We want you to be our second captain.”

“Uhm, this is a tremendous honor. I mean, I just got here-“

“Li, I have seen intense competition where you fall back and can’t make up those points. I sat here and watched you form a plan in 2 minutes or less and won a scrimmage game. You read your players and the court like no other. I don’t play with things like this.”

Do it. You know you can do it. Don’t second guess. You can’t fail something you never tried. This woman has seen an Olympic court. Do it.

“It would be my honor to be this team’s second captain.”

Fast Forward

The walk to my next afternoon class is exhausting. I’m going to feel this more in the morning. I stay awake during Bio and Humanities and barely pass college algebra. I walk out of the class and glance at my watch. 3:30 is what it reads. I have plenty of time to go to the library or crash in my dorm.

“Hey Lia,” I hear to my left, and I pray that it’s no one whose name starts with an E or an R. I glance, and I see that mop of curls. Luke. Suddenly, I had all the energy in the world and had to tell myself to calm down mentally.

“Hey Luke, where are you headed to?” Does that sound clingy? I hope not.

“Headed to practice at Yost. What about you?”

“Deciding on heading to the dorm or the library. I had practice this morning.” “How did that go?” he asked as we slowly walked towards Yost.

“Coach asked me to be the second captain. And I said yes.” “No way already! You must be perfect to be on Coach Z’s radar. Everyone here is afraid of her. But I’m happy for you. Captain.”

“Don’t call me that!” I say before playfully hitting his arm and him acting like I shot him.

“Well, I’m happy for you. Really.”

As we walked, I could tell he wanted to ask me something. He alternated between messing with his hair and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Is there something you need to ask me, Luke?” I broke the silence slightly, startling him.

“Oh! I just wanted to know if you're not tired or busy and want to see us practice. You can study there, and I’ll walk you back like last time.” He rattled off in one breath.

He wants you to see how he plays. He WANTS you there.

“Sure, Luke. I’d like that.”

He gives me that lopsided grin that I like as we finally reach Yost arena. Almost all the guys and a couple of new ones are there.

“LIA!” screamed Rutger as he ran at me at full speed. Thankfully, another boy grabbed his hood before getting too far and nearly choking him. “Will you stop it? You don’t have to act rabid.”

“Dammit, Mark, you almost killed me!”

“If that’ll calm you down, then sure. Why do you think your name is Fridge.”

A blonde then takes up my vision with beautiful teeth. That’s weird. Stop that.

“Excuse the idiots that go by Rutger and Mark. I’m Luca.” Why are all these boys so big? And why are some borderline insane or borderline gentlemen?

“Luke wouldn’t have let him get far- OWW!!” screamed Ethan as Luke elbowed him hard in the ribs before muttering a ‘shut the fuck up!’

“Guys, come up before coach tears us a new one!”

“Coming, Adam dear,” said Rutger. This boy is going to be the death of me.

“Hey, I’ll see you in the stands, ok? Wait till I’m out of the showers, and I can walk you home,” said Luke, whispering. I confirmed him with an Okay before heading to the general stands.

I opt for more seats in the middle to give myself some quiet time before the guys come out. “Is this seat taken?”

I look up, and a blonde girl points to the seat to my right. “Oh no, it’s not. Have at it.”

“I’m Kayleigh, by the way. And you?” “Lia. Nice to meet you.” “Likewise. You here watching someone in particular?” “Um, not really. Luke invited me. I may watch some, but I’m mainly here for homework.” “I’m here for Rutger. Girlfriend has to support boyfriend.” I can’t control my facial expressions because she laughs at me. Rutger. Loud, rabid, and oddly lovable Rutger. HAS A GIRLFRIEND?? I mean, he is good, I can’t deny, but the boy acts like he runs on Red Bull.

“Judging by your face your surprised. He’s a sweetheart, trust me. He is hyper, though.” She says, giggling. Hyper doesn’t even explain the specimen named Rutger.

Just then, the boys come out and start doing drills. Kayleigh informed me that Luke was number 43, which I mentally noted. They all stop after drills to discuss drills with the coach before starting what I assume is the equivalent of a scrimmage.

“Hey, you want to move closer to the glass. You’ll see the ice a lot better that way?” Asked Kayleigh. I reluctantly agreed as we moved behind the glass behind the benches.

Seeing everything up close puts into perspective the difference between our two sports. It’s very high contact, and I cringe whenever someone contacts someone. Amidst all this, I see how passionate Luke is about his sport, just like I’m passionate about mine. His demeanor completely changes when he gets in his defensive position. During the play, he sees me, and I make a small wave and see his mood change again.

It's hard to see through the cage, but I see that lopsided grin again before Luca comes and makes a hit on him.

“Oh my God! Is he ok?!”

“He’s probably fine, but that did look bad.”

“EYES UP HUGHES!” yelled the coach from the ice.

He was slow in getting up, but overall, he looked fine. I could see his neck glowing red above his jersey's neck. I hope I didn’t embarrass him.

The rest of their practice went smoothly. I completed a good amount of my homework and could relax for what felt like the first time today. Kayleigh and I got to know each other better, and she helped me understand some of the hockey terminology and the game's overall play.

At the end of their practice, I did like Luke said and waited for him by the locker room when he finished his shower. I then realized I didn’t give Luke any contact information. Not even socials. How would I bring that up to him? “Hey Lia! I’m done now, so let’s get you home,” said Luke, freshly showered from the locker room. His curls were still a little wet, but thankfully, it was a bit humid outside, so maybe he wouldn’t get a cold.

“Hey, Luke. Sorry about you getting hit. I didn’t mean to distract you,” I said, avoiding eye contact because I felt terrible.

“Hey, it’s alright, please don’t feel bad. The guys just chirped me a little, but that’s all. I like it when you distract me.” I look at him, and I see that he means it. He didn’t hesitate to rephrase it, either.

“Well, I’m glad you're okay,” I said as we left the arena. We bid goodbye to the last of the guys and made our trek back to our dorms. The sky is a mixture of red and pink, signaling evening has come upon us. The breeze picked up a bit; Luke noticed this and gave him his Michigan hockey jacket. “Take this as a repayment for the pencil during class today.”

Luke would never admit it, but he loved seeing his jacket on her. It fueled the underlying feelings for each other, but it was too early for either to announce it.

The rest of the walk is silent but peaceful. Just like the day before when he walked her home. They were enjoying each other’s company. As they approach the dorm rooms, both take a chance to make the first move in their friendship.

“We have a few home games coming up. If you’d like, I can put in a good word and get you good seats in the student section,” said Luke, scratching the back of his neck.

“I think I can do the same for my games. Since I’m captain, I’ll try to convince Coach Z.” He chuckled at this.

“And if you ever need a place to study, you can always come to the arena, and I can walk you home only if you want to! Or we can meet in the library-“ “I’d like that. All of that.”

There’s that lopsided grin again.

We reached the dorm rooms quicker than expected, which was my chance to make the first move.

“Is it ok if I get your number or socials before you go? So that we can talk more outside of class and coordinate schedules?”

“Oh yeah, sure. May I?” I hand him my phone, and he types in his number and pulls up his Instagram so I can follow him.

“Thanks. For pretty much everything.” “Like what?”

“Orientation day, class, your practice, and just being helpful as I settle here. It’s comforting.”

His face turns red at my words as he scratches his neck and tries not to show a smile.

“Well, goodnight Luke. See you tomorrow,” I say, giving him a small smile before heading inside.

“Good night, Lia.”

I had a hard time sleeping that night thinking about today's events. It was a fantastic day. I hear my phone buzz beside me. I look at the glaring screen to see that Luke followed me back. He also sent me a message.

Lhughes_06: here’s our schedule in case you want to see us play

Lia.li.23: thanks, here’s ours too (picture attachment)

Lhughes_06: thanks! I’m glad you stayed for the whole practice. Luca didn’t hit me too hard. I’m too harsh for that.

Lia.li.23: haha sure! Get some sleep. We have a practice tomorrow, too, so if you have time between classes, drop by 

Lhughes_06: for sure. Good night Lia

Lia.li.23: good night, Linguine

Lhughes_06: Luca saw that, and now I won’t live it down.

[bonny-kookoo]

mc was bored so she made friendship bracelets..........

A/N: this became a lot more spicy than I intended oops-

"Mister Dete-"

"For God's sake what in the world is it gonna take for you to NOT call me that!" He exclaims in agony, running his hands over his face.

"Meh, nothing I can think of right now, BUT!" You shout, running towards him with a jump in your step, before you lean over his desk- and he's summoning all self restraint not to let his eyes wander down to your very.. prominent cleavage. "Gimme your hand!" You ask, and he squints his eyes in suspicion.

"No." He tells you, crossing his arms.

"Oh come on old man stop being such a looser and gimme your paw!" You whine, jumping on one spot, making him almost chuckle.

"Tell me what you want to do first." He demands, and you pout.

"You won't let me do it if I tell you.." you mumble, hiding something behind your back.

"Good, you're smart. My answer is no." He says, before he moves back to his desk, picking up his pen to continue his writing.

So you walk around the desk, put a foot between his legs on his rolling office chair, and push him back, before you stubbornly sit on his desk, pen falling to the floor.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asks lowly, staring you down with a dark gaze, your foot still between his legs against the edge of his chair.

You don't answer, arms crossed while your tail swishes over the desk, knocking down a couple of papers.

He doesn't react, and for a good while- you would've been able to hear a pin drop.

Until he pushes your leg down and gets up, walking closer with his hands resting against the edges of his desk, right next to your thighs. His face is close to yours, noses almost touching, and from the way your ears turn backwards, he knows he's caught you.

"You seem to forget that you're in my home. My territory." He lowly speaks, some sort of purring sound accompanying his deep voice as he talks. "I've been letting you act like nothing but an entitled spoiled brat up until this point because it's none of my business, really." He growls, leaning in as you lean back, hardly able to keep eye contact with his piercing gaze. "But you're really overstepping a line here, sweetheart."

"...so you won't give me your hand?" You ask meekly, and he finally leans back again, giving you some room to breath.

"What the fuck to you want with it?" He asks annoyed, holding it out to you, as your legs start to swing happily, while you tie something around his wrist, black and white and grey in color. "What is that?"

"A friendship bracelet!" You exclaim in victory. "I made yours in boring colors, but the pattern is the same as mine, look!" You show him your wrist, and indeed- the pattern is the same.

"Whatever." He mumbles, though he doesn't fight it- until something hits your naked thigh that's not covered by your skirt- his hand, that is. "No get down from my desk and pick those papers up." He demands, making you follow his demands for once.

All while you're unaware of his inner turmoil-

Because are you really still none of his business any longer?

Or is he the one slowly overstepping the line?

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

-> Series Masterlist

[n0v4t33z]

The Syndicate - Chapter 2: The Traitor

Pairings: Choi San X Female Reader, Park Seonghwa X Female Reader, Ateez X Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is a Detective with a promising future in the police department until she's kidnapped by the infamous mafia boss Choi San and from him, she learns the dark secrets her superior has been hiding the whole time so she teams up with him in order to put a stop to it.

Genre: Lots of angst, Romance, Crime Fiction, Psychological Drama

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Language, Graphic Violence, Mentions of Illegal activities (i.e Kidnapping, extortion, assassination etc.), y/n gets roughed up by Wooyoung in the beginning , Slow Burn, Fluff sometimes, Work In Progress, Non-Idol AU, Mafia AU, Very suggestive at times, y/n cries alot, y/n having inner turmoil, Ateez being bad boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang are a little mean in this story tbh, Guns, Gunshot wounds, Assassination attempt(s)

I'll update tags as the story progresses

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Please Reblog if you like it! 🔁

Spotify Playlist🎵 | Series Masterlist📝

Author's Note: So here it is, Chapter 2! I wanted to at least try and post a chapter for San's birthday so this is it! I hope you guys enjoy it!💜

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

“So you’re the infamous Detective that San has kept his eye on for the longest..” Hongjoong asks while fidgeting with the keys in his right hand. “Infamous?” I quietly answer back and he nods silently almost like I was being judged. Something tells me he really doesn't like me I can already tell by the way he's looking at me. “Yeah, ever since you joined Ulwood PD you’ve been costing us a lot of business.” Taken a back from the bluntness I gather my courage and respond but this time a bit more respectful not wanting to start an argument and possibly anger any of them again. "Really? So besides my superior having something San wants that's one of the reasons why you guys decided to kidnap me?" Hongjoong lets out a small exhale from his nose "In a way, yes. That as well but not majorly." I slowly nod "What if I get my superior to make a deal with San to return whatever it is he wants?" Hongjong shakes his head, his earrings making a faint jingling noise "Maybe you should speak to San about that." I look over at Hongjoong who was looking straight ahead while we walk the dimly lit corridor, I didn't get a good look at his face before but he looks fairly young. Definitely shorter than the rest too, except Wooyoung. Luckily enough the silence doesn't last too long as we arrive outside San’s office so I didn't have to deal with the awkwardness much longer, Hongjoong opens the door “Here she is, I will be outside.” He slightly pushes me to sit down and closes the door behind him. San then stares at me for a bit and without breaking eye contact he says “Sit down Detective.” Stay focused, try negotiating with him. I carefully sit down on the leather chair in front of San’s desk while he clicks his pen a few times then sets it down. “First of all, before anything I’d like to apologize about what happened with Wooyoung. He wasn’t supposed to beat you like that.” I roll my eyes “Right, care to explain why you abducted me?” I want to hear this from the man himself and not his "inner circle" goons. San looks over at me with a deadpan expression “You’re ransom Detective. Something that belongs to me is in possession of Ulwood PD, not just that but Captain Lee owes me for all the stuff he’s been putting my family through. He’s no saint, and what a better way to taunt him than taking his secret weapon against us, you.”

Captain Lee? He’s always been a very respectable man and very stern. What does he have to do with the Choi’s and Aurora Syndicate? I look at San slightly suspicious “Captain Lee? Ever since I joined Ulwood PD, he’s been a very good role model of what a Detective should be. What does he have to do with your family?” San looks away almost like he was holding in a laugh then says “Oh come on Detective, can't you read between the lines? I guess he’s been keeping his double life under wraps from everyone in the department.” I glare at San. “What are you trying to say? Captain Lee works for you?” He smirks and slightly nods “Good guess, but it's more like he used to. The man is a crooked cop.” His face then grows serious again and he continues “ He used to work for my father. He’s also the reason my father got murdered. He began to work with a rival mob, The Obsidian Dragon a few years back which led to him giving away my father’s location to those people.”

No way, no fucking way. Captain Lee was one of the organizers for this hit and I’m the one having to suffer for his mistakes? “Why not abduct him? Why was I brought into this?” San pushes his glasses with his middle finger and sits back on his chair “Well, if we kidnap him he’ll be marked as a hero and that’s what I don’t want. I want him to be known as my father’s killer, and what a better way to bring attention to it than when a very infamous and well known Detective is kidnapped and in order to save her his whole team has to slowly unravel how evil and dirty he is. If he doesn’t give in, either way he’ll be seen as a terrible and incompetent person for letting a gifted Detective die in order to save himself.” I slowly clench my fists. This has to be a crude joke.

“I need proof of Captain Lee doing the things you’re claiming. I can’t just take your word for it, I don’t trust you.” San opens the drawer next to his desk and sets a file about an inch and a half thick in front of me “These are photos of him and my family and documents with his handwriting on it. Not to mention there are photos of him meeting up with someone from The Obsidian Dragon” I open the folder and the first thing to catch my attention is a picture of a dinner with presumably the Choi family and next to San’s father is Captain Lee smiling brightly. I squint my eyes to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me then I look over to a financial document with Captain Lee’s signature. I look at a few other photos carefully examining if it was the right person and to my disappointment it was. It’s Captain Lee, I'd recognize his signature anywhere and the man in the pictures looks exactly like him including his golden tooth. I look over at San in complete shock and San smirks and raises his eyebrow “You believe me now?” I slowly nod then I close the file and set it back on San’s desk in disappointment.

“This has to be a misunderstanding, he’s a great person I know so. I’m sure there has to be a reason he did this.” San throws his head back and laughs and says “The man loves money Detective, the difference between us and him is that the majority of us had nothing at one point but desperation to survive while this man has had money and a good life from the beginning. Also, what type of person kills their best friend over money? ” My body runs cold, and my stomach drops “The Phantom was friends with him?” There is a slight hint of disappointment in San’s voice “Yeah, so close I even called him uncle when I was a child.” Oh no, why do I feel bad for this man? When he's the reason Ulwood’s crime rates went up to begin with. I sigh and Sympathetically look at him “Look, I’m so sorry he caused all this pain to you and your family but there’s no reason to keep me here to get back at him. That file you showed me has enough evidence to send him to prison for the rest of his remaining life, I'll do that for you only if you let me go.” San looks at me for a few seconds and he shakes his head “No, i’m sorry.” I scoot up closer to his desk and I put my hand over the file “Please, you can do this the right way instead of possibly ruining your life.” He sits up and leans over the desk close to me and in a very calm voice he says “My life is already ruined Detective, all the things I've done are enough to send me to prison for the rest of my life. The least I should do with the last of my freedom is to destroy the man who killed my father.” I sit there for a while processing his final decision “Well, all I’m hoping is that Captain Lee does the correct thing although now I’m doubting it.” I have a feeling I’m going to die here now. “I sent the ransom note about an hour ago so we’ll have to wait for his answer in maybe a few days.” A few days?! I know for a fact we usually see ransom calls and answer them right away, why is he just going with a ransom note? "Why a ransom note when you can just call?" A smirk appears on his face "It makes it a little more dramatic, it's amusing, Even more knowing how much he's probably freaking out" I scoff and look at the book case to my left. He's such a childish man, it's ridiculous.

Out of nowhere my stomach growls and I clutch my stomach then San curiously looks over at me “Are you hungry?” I quietly nod then he grabs a radio from his desk and says “Hongjoong, can you escort the Detective to the guest room.” Hongjoong sounding a bit confused says “Uh yeah, sure right away.” The door then opens a few seconds later and Hongjoong walks towards me but before he reaches over to grab my arm I take off my badge and set it on San’s desk “Here, I have a feeling I won’t be needing this anymore.” San gives me a slightly confused look then Hongjoong escorts me out.

The walk to the guest room was excruciatingly quiet so I begin to lose myself in my own thoughts until finally we arrive at the guestroom. Hongjoong continues to hold my arm tightly while he opens the door. After opening the door Hongjoong walks me inside the guest room and sits me down on the bed and says “This is escape proof, so don’t even try.” He exits the room, and after hearing the door lock I lay down and begin to silently sob. I don’t want to die here, I want to see my family, I want to fall in love and have a family. I close my eyes and I slowly drift to sleep hoping that the horror I was living is just a dream.

Later, I’m gently nudged awake then I groggily open my eyes and I see Seonghwa holding some food “Hey, San got you some food. He didn’t know if you were allergic to anything so he just went with steamed rice and veggies and for your drink it’s apple juice but in a bottle so you know we didn’t mess with it.” He helps me sit up while I quietly wince in pain trying to sit up “Oh, thank you. Do I get these removed too?” He opens the food and says “I would but I can’t. The only one who can is San, my apologies Detective. I can still feed you though so it’s okay.” I look over to the food then I nod slightly disappointed “I see. Well, since we have to get that familiar with each other with you feeding me and all call me Y/N.” He chuckles and grabs a spoonful of food and feeds it to me “Alright Y/N, my name is Seonghwa but you can just call me Hwa when it’s just us.” Something tells me he's friendlier than the rest here “So Hwa when did you start working here?”

He hesitantly smiles and feeds me another spoonful of food and says “Well, I started working here a little before San’s father passed away. You? When did you start working as a detective?” While I chew I think for a few seconds “3 years this march as an actual detective, I’m honestly still not really used to it though I still have slip ups where I start talking like a civilian.” He opens the apple juice and puts a straw in the bottle “Oh I see, so you’re somewhat still new to the department?” I nod then I take a sip of my juice “Yes, but I guess weirdly enough people at the station no longer see me as the newbie because of the case clearing rate. streak I have" He hums in acknowledgement "I've heard, you're a criminal's worst nightmare." we both quietly chuckle then I ask "So, are you friends with San and all those guys I've seen?” He sets the juice back on the floor “Oh, yes. In a way we’re all friends although sometimes we do get into pretty heated disagreements.” I furrow my brows while focusing on the wall behind Seonghwa.

“So then does that mean I'm going to have to see the one who hit me? Wooyoung I think was his name.” He gently pats my shoulder “Unfortunately you probably are but don’t worry he’s not going to hit you anymore, San got onto him about it. It’s weird because this is the first time San has gotten upset over something like this happening, usually he doesn’t really care when Wooyoung goes around beating the people we’ve kidnapped. Then again this is the first time we’ve kidnapped a cop.” That’s weird I didn’t think he’d even care either, I thought maybe Wooyoung somehow messed up the procedure or something like that. Seonghwa continues “Let's have you finish eating so you can clean up and change clothes." Later, after Seonghwa finishes feeding me he helps me up and says "San got you a really pretty dress so you can wear it after your bath"

Embarrassed, I respond "Wait what? You're going to give me a bath?!" He chuckles and says "No silly, San is going to help you since he's the only one who is able to remove your handcuffs" Confused, I scrunch my nose and say “Why him?” Seonghwa shrugs and gives me a confused face “Honestly, I have no idea that’s just what he told us.” I look down and fidget with my hands then I say "So you're leaving then?" He reaches over and holds both my hands "I'm sorry, but don't worry I'll try coming back as much as I can." I sigh and with a slight disappointed tone in my voice I say "Okay..” He picks up the leftovers and gets up then the door opens behind him. I watch as San enters the room with a few shopping bags. Surprised, Seonghwa looks over at San and says “Oh hey, I was just about to go get you.” San walks over to the bed and sets down the shopping bags and says “Thanks for helping her eat, can you tell Yunho to let me know when something comes up regarding the ransom?” Seonghwa nods and closes the door behind him leaving me alone with San.

I watch him glance at me for a few seconds then sit next to me. “How are you feeling?” Why is he asking me how I feel? This is so weird. I shrug and say “I’m still in pain but I feel way better than I did earlier but I'm sure the bruises will come in tomorrow.” He smiles and says “I’m glad you’re feeling better, also was the food okay? I didn’t know what to get you since I didn’t know if you had food allergies or not.” Is he joking? Why is he asking me if I liked the food or not? Why does he care if I have food allergies? Why is he being so nice? He might be trying to get me to talk by being nice. “Food was good, don't worry.” He looks over at my hand cuffed hands “If I take these off of you do you promise me you won’t try to escape?” I might take a leap of faith and try but without hesitation I respond “I promise.” he uncuffs my hands and I gently massage my wrists and press my lips together forcing a smile. “I never say this to criminals but thank you, for like the food and everything.” He gives me a soft smile and says “Of course, now it’s time for you to get cleaned up and wash off all that blood off of you.” Should I ask him why he’s being so nice? Or is it too soon? Maybe.

I get up and stretch then San stands up next to me and chuckles gently patting my head “Oh wow you’re really short Detective, I've never seen such a short cop before. it’s actually kind of cute. I’m surprised you were even allowed to be in the police academy.” Oh my gosh did he just call me cute? The man is really committing himself to get something out of me. I raise an eyebrow in confusion “Gee, thanks but just in case you didn’t know I can do alot of damage despite my small stature.” He looks down at me and smirks “Yeah I know, which is why I’m the only one who can uncuff you.” If I change the subject maybe he’ll stop being weird. “So where’s the bathroom?” He leads me over to a door next to the entrance “There’s a shower in there but I’ll tell you right now the door has no lock so I can easily check up on you if you get too quiet.” Ew no. What if he’s being a pervert and watches me shower then what? I cross my arms in front of my chest and I say “Fair enough, just don’t be a pervert or….”

We both exchange looks for what feels like forever then he gently lifts my chin with his finger and says in a low voice “Or what Detective?” He’s good. My face gets hot and I swat his hand away from my face “I’ll press charges on you for harassment when I get out of here.” San lets out an amused laugh “Oh, are you really? But can’t I just admire a woman’s beauty?” He proceeds to push his glasses up with his middle finger then winks at me. I give him a disgusted look and walk into the bathroom closing the door behind me then from the other side of the door I say “I bet this is why you don’t have a girlfriend because you’re so weird!” I hear San laughing on the other side of the door and say "I was kidding!" I roll my eyes and get in the shower letting the water completely soak through my hair while I stand in the shower with my eyes closed wondering if what was happening right now was actually happening or a weird figment of my imagination from a breakdown or something. I mean being a cop is not necessarily an easy thing and I'm constantly under excruciating pressure from my superiors. So maybe my mind is making it all up.

After showering, wondering whether I'm in reality or not and occasionally checking the door in fear of San looking at me at my most vulnerable state. When I get out I see a nice robe and put it on. When did this robe get here? Where are my clothes? Did he seriously somehow come in without me noticing? I open the bathroom door and I see San standing next to the door on his phone I then ask “Did you take my clothes?” He nods then turns to look at me “Yep, I did. I bought you some clothes but I don’t know if you’ll like them though I asked my mom what a girl likes to wear and she said a nice casual dress will do.” I ran my fingers through my wet hair trying to comb it out “Oh, okay. I swear if you looked at me in the shower.” He shakes his head and pleadingly responds "I didn't I promise." I need to watch out for him, he's good. Maybe he's lying. He scratches the back of his neck and hands me the shopping bag “I also bought some um… you know underwear and some bras.” I grab the bag slightly embarrassed. What happened to me being a prisoner of the Aurora Syndicate? Where is this headed? Am I going to be sold off or something? “Oh, thank you, I’ll go put this on I'll be right out.” I walk back into the bathroom and close the door and I change into the dress, a beautiful ruffled dark purple chiffon dress with a tie up at the waist. When I step out, San’s lips curl up into a smile “It looks beautif- I mean, it looks great on you.” I nod and I bite my bottom lip to keep me from smiling.

The first time in a year that I get male attention and it’s from one of the most dangerous men in Ulwood. Embarrassingly I’m falling into his trap and it hasn’t even been a whole day, just 16 hours ago I was kidnapped. I have to get it together, this man is just playing tricks on me he doesn’t care about me at all whatsoever. Suddenly San’s radio goes off Slightly startling me while a male's voice says says “San, they know about the Detective and they said if we don’t hand her over right now you’ll have a warrant for your arrest.” Amused, San lets out a chuckle “Tell them the first note for her rescue will be on 398 Barry Ave.” The man then responds “Okay got it.” San walks over to me and pulls out the handcuffs from his pocket and puts them on me “I have to go, but I’ll come back later. In the meanwhile I need you to rest okay? ” I nod then he exits out the room and closes the door behind him then a few seconds later I hear the small click of the door being locked. I let out a sigh and walk over by the door and turn off the lights leaving some sort of night light on and I lay down with my back facing the door. I feel quite tired and the pain medicine Jongho gave me is starting to wear off so I begin to have a million thoughts racing through my head trying to get my mind off of the pain that eventually I fall asleep.

I suddenly wake up to the sound of the door unlocking and opening I felt too tired to turn and check who it was until eventually I feel a gentle nudge on my shoulder "Hey Detective, it's me Jongho I brought you some more pain medicine." He helps me sit up and gives me the painkillers and some water soon after he says “Did that warm shower help you feel a bit better?” I nod “Yes, it actually did but I started to be in pain again right before I fell asleep since the medicine was wearing off” He stipples his fingers and says “Don’t worry, just give it an hour and the medicine will kick back in again. Tomorrow when you wake up is when it will hurt a lot so I’ll come back in the morning to check up on you.” I nod and for a few seconds I pick at my nails then I look at Jongho and I say “San told me about Captain Lee, I told him he would get his revenge the right way with all those documents and pictures stacked up as evidence but he doesn’t want to.” He slightly frowns “Well, Detective you have to remember San and basically everyone here including myself are criminals. What San wants is to humiliate Lee and inflict as much pain as that man did to his father, I’m sure you’d do the same for your family if you ever get the chance right?”

I lower my face and purse my lips. “I mean If I had the amount of evidence San has against Captain Lee I’d go to the police.” His eyes widen for a split second in shock then he recollects himself and goes back to his serious expression “Well, police can only do so much, sometimes the best way to get back at someone who's hurt your family is not necessarily the legal way. I’m sure in the back of your mind you know this even if you don’t want to admit it which is understandable since you’re a detective and you work for the police leading me to believe you fully trust them. You have to remember that some of these cops aren’t clean and half the time they’re just as bad as criminals like us, if not worse.” I gently brush my hand on the soft chiffon ruffles of my dress “Actually despite what you probably think I see Captain Lee differently now, seeing all those pictures and evidence and being the empathetic person that I am I genuinely feel sorry for San. That doesn’t mean that I think what he’s doing is okay because it’s not but I do get where he’s coming from and I understand what you’re trying to get at.”

Before he can answer Jongho’s radio goes off with Wooyoung saying “Hey Jongho where are you?” Jongho grabs his radio and says “I was with the detective giving her medicine, what happened?” Wooyoung answers back with a slight annoyance in his voice “I need you to bring the Detective downstairs, Lee wants to talk to her he’s on the phone with San.” He presses the button to his radio again and with a calm voice Jongho says “Okay I’ll be right there.” He puts his radio back in his jacket’s pocket then he turns to me and says “Let’s go Detective.” He helps me up then he walks me downstairs.

When I enter the dimly lit room filled with lots of monitors, computers, and servers I notice that all of San’s inner circle was present, 2 of which I haven't seen. One had dark brown hair he looks as if he’s around the same height as Mingi except a little bit taller. The other wasn't as tall as the hair dark brown haired male in fact he seemed to be around the same height as Wooyoung and Hongjoong. His was a cool brown shade. He was very handsome looking having the face of a Roman statue with no visible flaw on his face besides the pink birthmark next to his right eye, definitely not taking away from how handsome he looked. Now that I notice I realize how all of San's inner circle is basically handsome young men. This is exactly why they probably get away with as much as they do because they're intimidatingly handsome, they probably don't even need money to keep people quiet. Their looks alone will probably the charm any one of their liking. Jongho walks me over to a single chair by where everyone was huddled. San looks at me briefly then says “She’s here, you have 1 minute with her.” San then hands me the phone and I say “Captain Lee?! Please get me out of here I’m begging you. I’m terrified. I want to go home!” In a worried tone he answers “Detective Y/LN, are you okay? Have they hurt you in any way?” A knot forms in my throat and I say in verge of tears “Um, yeah I’m okay except for a few bruises and a busted lip” As angry as I am with Captain Lee for betraying the police department I need to urge him to get me out of here. I hear silence from the other end of the call then Captain Lee clears his throat “Look Detective, I’m going to try my absolute best to get you out of there, Detective Bang is also working on this to get you out of there as soon as possible too. Don’t listen to anything these dirt bags tell you either, they’re low life criminals who don’t care about anyone but themselves.” I release the knot in my throat and I begin to sob “Please, Captain just get me out of here please, just give them whatever they want! I need to see my mom and my family, I have a life too! Please!”

San puts his finger over his lips to hush me and takes the phone “So now that I proved to you that she’s alive and not in some trash can in an alleyway are you are more keen on cooperating?” Seonghwa walks over to me and helps me calm down while San is still on the phone and chuckles, turning around giving the 7 guys behind him a thumbs up. Captain Lee probably agreed. “I have eyes in every corner of the city Lee, if you don’t follow the requests I leave for you and decide to go your own route there will be consequences.” he hangs up with a huge smirk on his face. “I have him right where I want him, now we just wait until his fellow investigators find out his dirty little secrets.”

San hands the Phone over to Hongjoong and walks over to me giving me a curt smile “Thanks to you Detective, he’s probably scrambling to find a way to rescue the PD’s female prodigy.” He helps me up and says “Yeosang, do me a favor and take her back to the guest room.” He nods and he quietly walks me back upstairs to the guest room while we walk up the stairs I slip on the fabric of my dress and he grabs my arm “Careful.” I quietly thank him and continue to walk in silence then I suddenly grow the courage to at least try and make small talk, maybe he's nice like Jongho and Seonghwa “You’re really quiet, this is the first time I’ve heard you speak.” He continues to look forward in silence then he answers “There’s no reason for me to speak to a cop.” Nope, I was right this guy is ice cold. There’s no use in trying to talk to these people, they straight up hate my guts. “Okay, I’m sorry”

After a long and awkward walk back to the guest room we arrive, he opens it and shoves me in the room with such a strong force that I fall on the hard marble floor on my knees and I wince in pain from the stinging sensation on my knees. I pull up my dress so that I could see my dress, then I look down at my knees and notice both my knees are scraped. I get up and lay down on the bed letting out a long exhausted sigh. “So much for trying to be nice.” I slowly close my eyes. Sleep, eat, wake up. I wonder how many of these I have left before I end up dead in a ditch.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

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[angelsdevils]

Debt of the Heart

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Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chaper 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 |

The morning sun’s rays had cast a glow into your room. You haven’t been able to sleep. Nerves filled you. Today was the day, and you felt sick to your stomach. So many things had happened, and everything was moving so fast. You dragged yourself out of bed and stared at your suitcase that stood by your bedroom door. You couldn’t sleep all night, so you found yourself packing at 2:00 in the morning.

You looked over at your alarm clock: 8:00 am. You sighed and dragged yourself out of bed and showered, before throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. You had to meet Ran at 10:00 to sign the marriage papers. You walked out of your room; the aroma filling the air, told you that your mom was cooking. The sizzling sound of bacon, the brewing pot of coffee, also told you.

You walked into the kitchen. Your dad was sitting at the kitchen table as your mom stood above the stove stirring the eggs in the pan.

“Morning, sweetheart,” your dad said. You kissed his cheek and went to your mom, kissing her cheek. This would probably be the last breakfast for a while that you would have with them.

“Morning, dad, mom,” you said sitting at your seat. Your mom set the plate in front of you.

“Morning, did you pack?” Your mom asked, and you nodded your head.

“Yes, I did, couldn’t really sleep last night, so did it last night.”

Your father sighed softly. He had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to sleep. He set the newspaper down and took your hand in his.

“Darling, you know you don’t have to do this. It’s not too late. Maybe you should take a bit more time,” he said softly.

“Dad, Ran said it himself, time isn’t a luxury we don’t we have.”

“Yes, but this… this is your mother’s and my burden to carry, not yours.” 

“I know, but it wasn’t like I was in love with anyone else. Who knows maybe he isn’t as bad as he seems, maybe…I will learn to love him,” you said. Your words held optimism but deep down in your chest, you knew you would never be able to love Ran. You hated the guy with everything in your being.

Your parents didn’t notice the inner turmoil you felt, which is what you wanted. You didn’t want them to worry for you. You ate breakfast and finished getting ready. Your parents drove to the municipal government office, to finalize the marriage. Ran and his brother, Rindou were there waiting for you.

You walked into the building, Ran holding the door for you and your parents. He gently took your hand in his, but you pulled your hand out of his. He had a frown on his face, but it quickly disappeared.

Ran led you guys to the private room and you both stood in front of the employee handed Ran a pen, and he signed first. When he was done, he handed you the pen, before pushing your hair out of your face.

“This is the best way,” he said softly. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You swallowed hard; your throat felt dry. You read over the contract to make sure he didn’t sneak anything upon which you wouldn’t agree. As you read the contract, Ran’s eyes traced over your delicate features. He could tell you didn’t trust him, you looked exhausted still meaning you probably hadn’t slept properly again.

His thoughts filled with memories of when he first laid eyes on you.

Ran found himself in a small, cozy café, which had pandas decorating the walls. They had the best coffee, and desserts. He was taking a rare break from his demanding schedule, between the missions Manjiro was sending him on, his club, and collecting debts, he was exhausted. He was sitting in a corner, sipping his black coffee, when he noticed a girl running around. She was serving customers, busting tables, and playing with some children. She had a warm smile gracing her lips, she had delicate features. Despite her smile, her eyes screamed, exhaustion, from probably being overworked.

She caught his attention, and he felt a warmth in his chest that he had never felt before. Ran had girlfriends before, but none of them he could say he actually loved any of them. So, this warm feeling in his stomach was foreign to him.

Over the next few weeks, he made sure to make time for breaks to come into his new favorite café, to see his favorite girl, who wasn’t his. He would watch her discreetly, trying to find ways he could get her to notice him. He didn’t know how he could approach her because she was so gentle, and he didn’t want you to be caught up in his dark world.

She turned toward him, catching his gaze for the first time. But it was only in passing and that was enough for him, to realize this was more than a crush. This was love. He wanted her-needed her- in his life. He would find a way to make her his, and get her to love him, the way he loved her.

You finally signed the marriage certificate, with shaking hands. He was halfway there now, you were his for eternity, but now he had to get you to love him, the way he loved you. He turned to your parents, bowing his head. He had a calm demeanor, his hands at his sides. Your parents were surprised at him bowing his head to them.

“This may not be an ideal situation, and your family was put in this difficult situation, but I swear on my life your daughter will be safe. I will take care of her, and you guys since you are my in-laws now. She will want for nothing, and neither will you. I won’t hold her away from you guys, and she can visit anytime.”

Your parents gave each other worried glances, as he turned to you, and took your hands. He raised them to his lips, kissing your knuckles, before placing a shiny ring on your ring finger. You fought the urge to remove your hands from his. He pressed a kiss on top of the ring.

“I promise to make sure you have a comfortable life.” Ran whispered against you ring before dropping his hand. You all left the building, and Ran placed your suitcase in his car.

“Ran,” Rindou stepped forward handing him an envelope. Ran nodded, took the envelope before giving it to your parents. Inside was a check that was more than what they needed to survive on catching their bills up.

“I don’t understand, you are marrying my daughter to clear our debt to Bonten.” Your father said, and Ran turned to your father.

“That is true, but you are now my in-laws, I can’t have you guys struggling. I will take care of you guys as well, that was part of the contract. Right, (Y/N).”

You nodded your head, as your parents turned to you, and you looked away. “He added that part in himself, all I required was your debt be settled and I have my freedom still.

“We should get going, I have a house tour to give (Y/N). When things settle down, I will arrange a dinner with all of us, including my brother.” Ran said, and your parents nodded, you hugged your parents tightly before getting into the car, Rindou getting in the backseat out of respect for you since you were Ran’s wife now.

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

[naeverse]

Extra Credit PT: 2

🏫staring. Professor O’Hara x Sassy fem!reader

🎒 preview: “Do you agree, Y/N? Will you help me help you?"

🖋️Summary: Miguel O'Hara, a renowned, attractive genetics professor,  known for his strict stance against extra credit. As a senior, you struggle to keep up with coursework and Mr. O'Hara's opposition to extra credit makes it difficult for you to pass. However, a chance encounter with you changes everything, as Mr. O'Hara becomes more open to helping you - but you must help him in return.

📕tw/cw. unprotected sex, harsh language, hate sex, rough, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, oral sex, spanking, accidental simulation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Miguel, mutual orgasm, etc… 

📘pet names: (hers) little puta or puta (Little bitch, bitch), Chica (Girl), Muñeca (Doll), 

✏️ rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

📖Word count: 4k words

🍎 Credit to Artist in header: Narutoss.ramen

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

After the last student left his classroom, it appeared as though Mr. O'Hara had been triggered…

His gaze swiftly landed on you, seated with your legs crossed in a chair, engrossed in your phone. He tried his utmost to maintain his focus on the current task at hand.

"Y/N?" Mr. O'Hara called out once more. You met his gaze as he signaled you over with a subtle beckon of two fingers. Scanning the empty classroom, you gracefully slipped out of your desk. Your black boots echoed with every step as you approached the strong, tanned instructor.

Mr. O'Hara gulped, almost releasing in his pants at the very sight of you approaching him. He shifted his attention to his monitor, moving his mouse aimlessly and clicking on random links, trying to mask his inner turmoil. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he battled with a mixture of emotions—frustration, desire, and longing.

It pained him to be consumed by such feelings, especially when directed at someone like you. Someone he found so irritating, difficult, and an absolute nuisance.

He despised how aroused he was by you. He literally felt like he could cum on the spot without you even touching him.

Mr. O'Hara's black leather oxford that adorned his foot tapped nervously against the floor. He kept his attention fixed on his monitor, avoiding eye contact with you.

Like before, you hopped up onto Mr. O'Hara's desk, your skirt riding up your thighs. You swung your legs whilst looking at Mr. O'Hara from over your shoulder.

"So, what did you want to discuss about my grades, Mr. O?" you inquired, looking at the well-built man whose white polo shirt clung to his form.

Mr. O'Hara let out a trembling breath as he observed you perched on his desk, your legs on full display. He adjusted his black glasses on his nose, his demeanor nervous as he tried to concentrate on your eager expression.

He moistened his lips with a hint of uncertainty. This was his last chance to back out. To be professional and ignore his throbbing arousal that was slowly growing in his pants. But Mr. O'Hara couldn't help but notice your eager eyes, the way they looked at him in curiosity and interest of what your discussion will uphold. The look on you was doing something to him, and he loved and hated the feeling.

Once again, the question presented itself to him.

To continue…

Or back out.

He clenched his jaw, his amber eyes flickering red with arousal as they trailed over your every being.

Your captivating eyes, flawless lips, graceful neck, alluring breasts, immaculate stomach, luscious thighs, and those seductive boots that were pushing him to the brink of insanity.

And in that very moment, he made a firm decision –

He wasn’t backing out…

"I was reflecting on our previous discussion…” Mr. O'Hara began, clicking the trigger of his ballpoint pen once, twice, thrice before finally meeting your gaze. "I've been contemplating offering you some…"

"Extra credit."

Your legs, which had been swinging in the air, came to an abrupt halt, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Had you misheard him?

Mr. O'Hara had always been staunchly against extra credit, refusing it for anyone. He believed that if students hadn't put in the effort the first time, they didn't deserve a second chance. It was what he was known for on campus and what earned him the reputation of being a strict and demanding professor, so you were taken aback by his words.

"I…I thought you didn't allow extra credit," you stammered, your gaze locked intently on Mr. O'Hara. You half-expected someone to leap out and reveal this was a prank, as you struggled to believe what you had just heard.

Mr. O'Hara knew that he was venturing into morally questionable territory, but his desperation and need for a release compelled him to proceed. He looked up at you, attempting to maintain a serious expression, even though he was close to the most critical part of his plan and becoming increasingly nervous.

Clearing his throat, he began, "Well, I don't usually… but this is your last year on campus, correct?"

You nodded in response, and he couldn’t help the small smirk that formed on his lips. "Your senior year is crucial, Y/N. It's the year where you're giving your all to earn as many credits as possible to graduate and move on to the next stage of your adult life," he said, busying himself with organizing a few test packets he had been grading, his gaze seemingly more focused on the stack of papers than on you.

You hummed in agreement, hanging onto his every word. Mr. O'Hara then set the stack aside to meet your eyes directly. "We both know you've been facing some…challenges in my class," he added, his voice taking on a husky tone. "I understand and sympathize with your situation, which is why I'd like to offer you some extra credit to boost your grade."

With each word, Mr. O'Hara's heart pounded loudly in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was doing, what he was saying…

But he felt compelled to continue.

You averted your gaze from Mr. O'Hara to in front of you, taking a moment to let his words sink in. Afterward, you slowly nodded and turned back to look at him over your shoulder.

"Okay, so what's the extra credit?" you asked with a hint of amusement. "If it's a packet of genetics questions, I'm sorry, but it won't be much of a help." You chuckled and waited patiently for Mr. O'Hara's response.

He licked his lips, a wave of heat creeping up his tanned neck. Shaking his head at your guess, his eyes briefly wandered down to your smooth and silky thighs before locking onto your gaze once more.

"It's not a packet…

But something else…"

Mr. O'Hara paused after his words. He hesitated, feeling a sense of unease, especially as you crossed your arms over your chest, accentuating your bust. This sight caused his arousal to intensify significantly, and he had to bite his lip harshly to regain control.

"It's something that involves just you and me."

Your reaction was a mix of shock and confusion.

If the extra credit didn't entail an assignment, project, or a packet and required both you and Mr. O'Hara's presence, you were left entirely bewildered as to what it could involve.

You stared at Mr. O'Hara in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing.

"So, it's something that involves just you and me?" you inquired. "You want me to bring you coffee and lunch every day? If it comes to that, I'm more than willing to do it if it helps my grade." You chuckled lightly.

Mr. O'Hara couldn't help but laugh at your comment before clearing his throat. He was trying to find a way to explain without sounding peculiar or scaring you off.

"No, not quite like that," he clarified. "It's something a bit more… personal."

Your puzzled expression deepened, and you remained oblivious to his true intentions. Mr. O'Hara found your naivety somewhat endearing.

"It involves me giving you some extra attention," he said in a playful tone, hoping you'd catch on, but it seemed you were still in the dark.

You turned to Mr. O'Hara fully, your eyebrows knitted together, and your eyes scanning his facial features with a sense of urgency.

'He can't be thinking that… right?'

Your gaze roamed over his tanned face, his amber, almost crimson narrowed eyes behind his black spectacles. You couldn't help but notice the sharp curve of his jawline and his lips, which curled into a taunting smile.

His muscular, well-built body with broad shoulders and a frame so large it strained against his white polo shirt wasn't overlooked in your intense gaze.

While you couldn't deny Mr. O'Hara's physical appeal, you also couldn't overlook his status as an obnoxious individual. There was no way you'd willingly give in to him…

Unless…

No, it couldn't be what he was suggesting. You and Mr. O'Hara shared a mutual hate for each other. You were convinced he couldn't possibly be alluding to anything sexual…

Right…?

"Extra attention?" you repeated, your voice tinged with perplexity. "Professor, I'm not following. What are you talking about?"

Your gaze was locked on Mr. O’Hara, eager for him to provide further clarification, as at that moment, extra credit seemed to suggest either something of a sexual nature involving Mr. O'Hara or an entirely different proposal. Regardless…

You found yourself in a state of confusion.

Your arms were folded over your chest, your legs crossed, and your flannel skirt had unintentionally ridden up your thighs once more.

Mr. O'Hara couldn't help but chuckle once more, amused by your apparent confusion. He found it rather entertaining to witness someone who was typically so sharp-tongued and rude struggle to grasp the situation.

He had a feeling that you understood his meaning quite well but needed a little nudge in the right direction. Mr. O'Hara cleared his throat once again and looked up at you with narrowed eyes.

"You know exactly what I mean, Y/N…"

His gaze, however, began to drift down your body once more before returning to your eyes. A newfound boldness washed over him, and he decided not to hold back any longer.

He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs to reveal the prominent bulge in his black dress pants. With a toothy grin, he beckoned you over with a nod of his head.

"Why don't you come over here, and I'll show you exactly what I mean?"

He grinned at you, never breaking eye contact. Slowly, a smirk began to spread across your lips, and you realized that you were indeed correct about Mr. O'Hara's intentions.

"You horny bastard," you playfully remarked, accompanied by a chuckle. "You want me to provide you with some sexual attention, is that it?"

Mr. O'Hara's heart raced as he grappled with mixed emotions, unsure of how you were interpreting the situation. He couldn't predict your thoughts—

Did you find his proposition disgusting or perhaps believe it was all a joke?

Regret was beginning to seep in as he ventured into unfamiliar territory. The uncertainty gnawed at him, making his stomach churn with suspense and anticipation.

His anxiety transformed him into a stoic figure. His face grew rigid, his voice cold and stern. "Yes," he replied, meeting your playful gaze with serious, unwavering eyes.

"And would you assist me with my problem, Y/N? In exchange for help with your grades?"

His tone was firm and unyielding, but his nervousness remained palpable. You sat on his desk, grinning back at him, still somewhat in disbelief at his audacious request. However, the fact that you had this older, muscular man practically begging for your attention was, oddly, an ego boost.

Your eyes roamed his body, and a smirk graced your lips. You let your gaze linger on his thick, muscular thighs and the prominent bulge in his black slacks before locking onto his stern amber-red eyes behind his black spectacles.

While you didn't mind helping Mr. O'Hara if it meant improving your grades, what genuinely intrigued you was how long he had been harboring this desire. Your curiosity got the best of you.

"So, how long have you been dealing with this issue, Mr. O'Hara?" you asked, sitting back on your hands, your smirk taunting. His jaw clenched at your teasing. He disliked your games and just wanted a straightforward answer regarding your willingness to assist.

He growled, his scowl deepening. "That's none of your business," he retorted. "Do you agree to my terms or not?" You chuckled, savoring the satisfaction of getting under Mr. O'Hara's skin.

It was a peculiar delight to see how easy it was to provoke his reactions.

With your eyes trailing along his body once more, you asked, "How much is this extra credit worth? I need specifics before I get my hands dirty." Your expression was completely serious despite the playful banter.

A smirk gradually spread across Mr. O'Hara's lips; it appeared you were on board with his plan, and he intended to sweeten the deal even further.

"If you complete this “task” for me, I'll raise your 58, which you scored on my test last week, to an 80…

How does that sound, Y/N?"

Your smile broadened, and you were becoming more intrigued by this deal.

"And how much would that raise my grade to? I want to pass your course with a C, Mr. O."

Mr. O'Hara hummed in thought, considering your request. The semester was already halfway through, and with your previous performance, you were likely to receive more low grades.

He glanced up at you, his gaze fixating on your enticing thighs. His pants grew even tighter as he bit his lip.

"How about we extend our little agreement?" he proposed, causing you to smirk.

You couldn't help but wonder just how much Mr. O'Hara had been lusting after you. He seemed rather eager to proceed with his sexual intentions, even extending the time. But regardless of your curiosity, you were more interested in the new terms he proposed, so you nodded, allowing him to continue.

"I know how much you despise my work and my class, Y/N. So how about I guarantee you a passing grade for my class if you meet me here after classes for 15 minutes every other day until the semester is over?"

"So, for the next eight weeks?" you clarified, tapping your nail against his desk.

Mr. O'Hara's breath hitched, and he nodded, responding, "That'll cover the rest of this semester, Y/N."

You swung your legs, mulling over the agreement.

'This offer is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Genetics class is kicking my ass, and this could be the only way to improve my grade… for the rest of the semester too!'

You thought, your eyes meeting Mr. O'Hara's, his stern gaze solely fixed on you. He inquired, "Do you agree, Y/N?

Will you help me help you?"

A smirk gradually spread across your lips, and you nodded. How could you possibly deny him?

The deal was just too good.

"Of course, Mr. O. Who could say no to a great deal like that," you chuckled, hopping off his desk.

Mr. O'Hara was rather surprised by how readily you embraced his bold proposal. His excitement knew no bounds, and he felt no need to conceal his desires any longer. He chuckled, pushing his black spectacles up his nose, and said, “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Y/N. Shall we begin?'"

You giggled, biting your lip. "Let's…" Mr. O'Hara's smirk broadened as he gestured for you to come closer. "I want you on your knees." He slid back in his computer chair, making room for you before him.

You smirked at his eagerness, confidently walking over to stand in front of him. Mr. O'Hara's eyes roamed over your entire being, taking you in.

He bit his lip, his pants tightening even more, causing a muffled groan to escape his mouth as he became increasingly turned on. You kneeled before him, looking up to meet his gaze with a teasing smile.

"You are rather naughty, Mr. O'Hara," you teased once more. "Be honest with me, it's just you and me here in this room." You giggled, biting your lip while continuing to gaze up at the large instructor. "How long have you been wanting me, hmm?" You snickered, bringing a scowl to Mr. O'Hara's lips.

He despised your teasing. He had never felt this way about anyone, especially not a student like you, and the way you kept bringing it up was pissing him off.

He roughly started to unbuckle his leather belt, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. The flaps of his black slacks opened, revealing his dark gray boxers underneath. “Stop talking,” he spat, pulling his pants down until they formed a black puddle around his feet. You snickered, tilting your head. “Why? Sensitive topic?"

Mr. O’Hara growled, leaning in closer to your face, his anger radiating from his body due to his close proximity. His amber, almost crimson eyes, covered by his black spectacles, scanned your facial features as his lips turned up into a scowl.

“I didn't give you this extra credit to hear you and your fucking mouth.”

He said with a harsh tone, his voice filled with anger and spite, despite his hidden desires for you.

You looked back at him, completely unfazed, a small laugh escaping your lips. "I know…You want me to please you. To help you…

Release…"

Your tone was seductive, and your eyes roamed over Mr. O'Hara's body. “Isn’t that right, Mr. O?” you purred.

Your seductive tone and suggestive words had a profound effect on Mr. O'Hara. His length under his boxers twitched, and he let out a groan of frustration at how restrictive his briefs were. His gaze remained cold, and his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed locked in place.

He snarled, his eyes reddening behind his frames as he studied your features. "Stop pissing me off and get to work."

He growled, leaning back in his computer chair. "Use that mouth of yours and make it useful for once."

His words caused your nose to scrunch up, and you let out a growl. You shot a piercing glare at Mr. O'Hara, whose gaze remained locked onto you. His fingernail tapped impatiently on the armrest of his chair, his usual scowl etched on his lips.

It infuriated you the way he carried himself with such arrogance, as if he were high and mighty. Yet, here he was, practically begging you for assistance with his sexual desires.

You were determined to shatter that arrogant facade.

To show him who truly held the control in this situation, because it certainly wasn't him.

You smirked up at him, a wicked glint in your eye. "Fine…" You rose up on your knees, moving closer to the center of Mr. O'Hara's thick, muscular thighs.

Even though Mr. O'Hara was staring down at you with his usual unreadable and grim expression, it was evident that your presence had a profound effect on him.

His clothed desire was painfully palpable under his dark gray boxers, straining horribly against the fabric of his pants and showcasing his unmistakable longing for you.

Mr. O'Hara bit his lip, struggling to hold back the low groan that was brewing in his chest as he watched you loop your fingers into the band of his boxers. Assisting you in undressing him, he lifted his hips slightly off the chair, allowing you to pull his briefs down.

You lowered his bottoms just enough to set his hardened and aching member free. His tanned length hastily springing out from its confines.

Mr. O'Hara licked his lips, the mere sight of you on your knees before him only made him want to shove his cock down your throat even more.

You despised Mr. O'Hara, that was a fact, but you couldn't help but regard his cock with a hint of surprise and amazement.

His member was positioned so close to your face that you didn't need to make any effort to get a taste of it. It was fully erect, substantial, and impressively large. You estimated it to be well above average, possibly reaching around 10 inches in length. A prominent vein ran along the underside of his tanned member, leading to a tinted reddish-brown tip that glistened with pre-cum.

You had to give Mr. O'Hara props…

He surprised you…

You had heard numerous times from the secret Mr. O'Hara fandoms at your college that the professor was rumored to be well-endowed. However, you dismissed these claims as mere rumors, assuming they were just fantasies for the infatuated admirers of the strict genetics professor to indulge in at night.

But it turned out that the squealing fans might have been onto something after all, because Mr. O'Hara, was indeed,

Packing…

…

..

.

"Are you going to suck it or just gawk at it the whole time?"

You jumped, your eyes snapping up to meet Mr. O'Hara, who held a smug grin on his face.

Mr. O'Hara had been observing you for a while, noticing your eyes as they traveled up and down his length repeatedly. Your mouth was slightly agape, and your eyes were wide with surprise. He couldn't help but feel his ego grow at the sight.

To witness a girl like you, known for your bitchiness, unimpressed demeanor and incessant chatter, not only rendered speechless but genuinely captivated by the sight of his cock, filled him with an overwhelming sense of pride that was beyond comprehension.

You scowled, rolling your eyes at Mr. O'Hara's comment. You gazed up at him from between his legs, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Gawk? I bet you'll like that, huh?" You chuckled, causing Mr. O'Hara to grin.

"Y/N, no need to lie. You like what you see, don't you, chica?" he remarked, his cocky demeanor shining through his words.

Mr. O'Hara was just pissing you the fuck off. He truly believed that he had you salivating over his dick.

"You wish," you snarled, glaring daggers at him from your position on the floor. Mr. O'Hara shook his head, laughing. "Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N," Mr. O'Hara mocked, leaning in close, his prideful face meeting your infuriated one. He smiled, his annoyingly perfect white, sharp canines peeking out from under his lips.

"You can drop the little bitchy, stubborn act."

He smirked, looking at your kneeled form up and down before meeting your narrowed eyes.

"We both know you are just eager to get a taste…

Just dying for my cock to fill your little mouth up, hmm, chica?"

Your gaze traveled down to his impressively large member and then back up to his taunting eyes. Your fists clenched at your sides, and your teeth ground together harshly.

You'd had enough!

You couldn't believe he'd say something so crude and arrogant.

Your face flushed in anger, your jaw clenching.

"I'm not the one who's so damn aroused they had to bait their student into pleasing them,"

You spat, full of rage, your chest heaving up and down.

"What? Your hand isn't doing the job anymore? Getting tired of using the same hand you use to grade papers to jerk off?"

You laughed, looking him up and down as you shook your head.

"And you sit here, all high and mighty, but how long have you been eyeing me, Professor? Wanting to have your way with me? Wanting to fuck me until your heart's content, hmm?"

You asked with a snicker, your eyes finally taking in Mr. O'Hara's reaction to your outburst, and what you saw made your smirk only broaden. The way Mr. O'Hara's smug grin slowly began to change and distort, turning into red fury, made you feel so satisfied.

His gaze was icy, staring intently down at you; his sharp canines completely revealed, grinding down onto his bottom teeth. He was practically seething.

"What the fuck did you just say to me!?"

Mr. O'Hara stared down at you, his blood boiling.

The nerve of you…

The audacity to say something like that to him.

He was already on the verge of snapping…

His self-control wavering when he came up with the idea to get you to stay after class for you to please him.

His self-control cracking when he actually went through with his plan.

Every cocky, snarky, and sassy remark that you uttered afterward was chipping away at the last bit of self-control he had…

And now…

After those fucking comments you just made…

Self-control was out the damn window…

His breathing was heavy, his nostrils flared, and his grip on the armrests of his chair lethal.

He glared down at the young woman in her early 20s who knelt before him. He didn't see her as a student anymore.

Someone he taught,

Someone he had to be cautious with,

gentle with,

fragile with…

Hell no…

He was blinded by rage and lust. Two horrific combinations…

And he only had one thought in his head…

That he was going to dominate and destroy this mouthy bitch and put her in her place…

A/N: Looks like you might be in for it in Part 3... 😬

Thanks for all the love that you guys have showed for my first post. It really surprised me, so thanks so much everyone!! 💙😊❤️

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[landofadonises]

NG-AD0372 Transformations - Eyewitness Testimonies, I

The biotechnician placed a notepad and a pen down on the cold, steel table, taking a seat across from a hesitant soldier fidgeting in his seat. As he adjusts himself and looks toward the soldier expectantly, the soldier takes a swig of water from the glass on the table and speaks up, stuttering. "Doc, you promise that doin' this for ya will get me my dose sooner? Y'know it's crazy weird to talk about this stuff... it gets me thinkin' all... I don't know..."

The scientist smiles knowingly, chuckling momentarily at the soldier's hesitation. "Don't worry, boy. Get to explaining. You're one of the first that were there to see your work partner change before your eyes. We want all the nuance, and believe us when we say we'll compensate you for your... efforts."

The soldier has a smile flutter across his face, but it fades as he gets to thinking about the topic at hand, squirming in his seat for a bit as he adjusts the crotch of his pants. He takes another gulp of water to soothe his parched throat.

"Well... everything was going normal, just cleaning the gym equipment with Mateo like normal, and I guess he picked up a pretty heavy weight to rack it, and I heard him... breathe a certain way when he felt it. He racked it but kept flexing his arms, and it was so weird... his sleeves were tightening like crazy, and he just kept getting, like, overstimulated? Like, his head kept knocking back and his eyelids were flutterin' and shit, mouth open, like he was tryna figure out what to do..." The soldier shifts in his seat more, the tightness in his crotch distracting his recounting of events.

"Then, all of a sudden, I saw some crazy veins poppin' out on the back of his hands, and he just grabbed his shirt and ripped off the sleeves in one clean rip, strong as hell... and the fuckin' pythons on him all of a sudden, so damn sweaty, hairy... and he just looked so unsatisfied, pouty, moany... I just had to help him..."

"Doc, you don't get it... the way that that sweat was shinin' on his skin... the musky smell, and how he just looked so damn pitiful... I went up and smacked a kiss on his lips and he moaned into my mouth... and... and..." The soldier trails off as he bites his lip as he recalls the events, in inner turmoil about how he reacted in the moment and how much he enjoyed it, never being able to properly shift his junk in his pants to bring some relief, so constricting...

"Well, soldier, that about does it. This was incredibly helpful to hear about how the soldiers react when the effects kick in." The scientist rises to his full stature and stares at the soldier across from him as the soldier continues to squirm, losing awareness of the situation around him. "You'll have a firsthand account of your experiences once you return to lucidity soon enough."

The soldier looks up at the scientist. "W--whuh? What? S-so soon...? I thought... evals..." His sentence is interrupted by a moan escaping his lips as his shaft competes for space in his pants, zipper threatening to burst open. He looks down as his double-sized turgid cock snaps open the zipper and latch, revealing a heavy set and swelling balls, the sudden relief and rush of air causing him to release an even louder moan.

The scientist chuckles as he grabs the soldier's jaw and directs his view to the near-empty glass of water on the table, the scientist tapping the rim and flicking it, causing the bit of remaining water to pool onto the table. The soldier, now understanding, falls into a euphoric state, ignoring everything around him, as the scientist walks out of the room and informs the attendant to lock the room as the situation plays out.

[tinyowlthoughts]

Bury Your Gays by @drchucktingle

I laughed. I cried. I read it in one sitting and will read it again before the week is over.

Holy fuck.

The horror is exquisite. Not just that people are dying (both in-story but also fictionally through film) in fascinating and creative ways, as well as being stalked/threatened/jump scared/etc., but in the way that the horror characters are connected to the protagonists history. Habits, smells, sights - everything is part of the whole.

There are no throw-away details in this book - everything has meaning, everything connects in some way. This is the kind of tapestry woven that would take up an entire wall of a castle, the kind with so many small, intricate details that it would take you hours of examination to notice and appreciate all of them. The matchbooks, the phones, the crossword with pen - all of it has a meaning that reflects on the overall story. It's insane.

Misha is fantastic. He's smart and successful, but also a deeply flawed character in that he can't accept praise, not to mention being so deep in the closet for half the book he's having tea with Aslan and playing bridge with the Babadook on Thursdays. (But hey, double date potential for Misha & Zeke with Babadook & Pennywise!) His flaws aren't just 'he's in the closet', either. No, he's forgetful at times, not always great at communicating with his boyfriend (another great character), or with his employers. It's mentioned he has a snappy, harsh history with the paparazzi. Still, he's someone you want to root for throughout the book. He deserves to win, after you see his inner turmoil over everything going on.

Zeke, Tara, and Jack are all fantastic as characters as well. Zeke is adorkable, Tara is kick-ass, and Jack is - well, I spent most of the book HATING Jack, but he's a symptom of a larger problem, and well he is an asshole, he's not a complete one.

Also, FUCK YEAH ACE HERO! As an asexual, I'm used to not seeing myself in media. Having such a kickass aroace character was AMAZING, and she made me so happy. I've already started doodling some of her fantastic outfits.

The plot was fascinating. It started with this 'big corp v little guy over profits' idea, and it carries it through, but there is so much more to it than that. It touches on the effect of AI in Hollywood/creative endeavors, on how authors don't always own their characters in the same way after they've been franchised, on how important tech privacy is in a world where we just let cell phone towers do what they want. The horror characters are great - they're terrifying, lurking in the shadows, waiting to spring out at the most inopportune time - but they're a small part of the bigger threat - a symptom of the big bad evil guy. They're creative and fascinating and I really, really want to cuddle Black Lamb even if that is a supremely bad idea (as demonstrated by Josiah). Honestly, the Smoker stole the show for me. I loved when he showed up - an amazing character.

At one point in the story, Misha gives a speech. I'm going to be 100% clear here: I cried. I cried because I understood it. I cried because I grew up thinking I was broken, thinking there was something deeply wrong with me, that I was unworthy of love and acceptance, because I didn't feel romantic feelings towards boys. Because I didn't want to date or kiss or have sex. I didn't see characters like me on TV or in movies or in books. Just like Misha, I didn't see myself.

I am so fucking thankful that is changing. I'm so glad that media is going from 'queer coding' to overt 'be gay and slay'. I'm so happy to see the younger generations rising up and replacing the boomers with stories that preach tolerance and love and queer joy. I'm ecstatic that creators are changing entertainment media to include queer characters. I'm so hopeful that in the next few years, I'll be one of them.

Most of all I'm glad I read this book today. I'm glad I saw the post on Tumblr this morning and got it on my Kindle. I'm glad I got to experience the heart-pounding terror Misha went through because he wanted his two characters to kiss. I'm glad I've experienced a whirlwind of emotions in the past few hours as I dove into this experience headfirst.

I'm glad Chuck Tingle wrote this book.

And I'm ecstatic that he's proving Love is Real.

Thank you for another amazing novel, Mr. Tingle.

(And, should Mr. Tingle ever read this: what happened to the people injured on the plane? Did they recover in the end? Did poor seat mate ever finish his crossword?!?!)

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 28

I’ve been reccing underrated fics since this blog was created and so I thought “there’s no easier @hprecfest prompt than this one” lol famous last words, this post took me ages to prepare 😂 I was initially overwhelmed by the amount of fics that came to mind, and going through my bookmarks and old recs only made it worse. How was I supposed to shortlist?? In the end I gave up and decided to rec 2 Drarry fics + 2 rare pairs. I could have included so many more but I really didn’t want this to become a tl;dr post and these rec blurbs are already going out of control, so here we go!

Day 28) an under-rated fic:

Drarry

In Dreams by @moonflower-rose (E, 38k)

Harry wasn't expecting to ever see Draco Malfoy again. He also wasn't expecting to walk into a political conspiracy that morning either, but apparently that's exactly what the day has in store for him.

I’ve screamed quite a few times about this fic (see my rec here) and every time I do it’s in the hopes that more folks will stop whatever they’re doing and go feast on this. not only a delicious and intriguing case fic with Rosie’s trademark epic dialogue and superb sense of humour, this also wins the award of best fic opening I have ever read. the way I gasped at chapter one and am forever haunted by its utterly devastating ending oh my god!!! my heart belongs to this gritty Harry, and the slow burn is masterfully crafted within the urgency of their teamwork to solve the mystery combining comfort, grief and hope in a thrilling, poignant and perfectly paced adventure. plus, the emotional payoff is chef’s kiss, honestly I cannot recommend this enough!

Survival of the Species by @romaine2424 (E, 47k)

Draco approaches Harry on the 9 ¾ platform, after their sons have boarded the Hogwarts Express, and invites him over for tea. The discussion they have leads them on an adventure that neither could have expected. There be dragons! HPDH compliant but before any other canon info had been released.

considering this masterpiece was published back in 2007 I think I’m allowed to say this is definitely a formative story when it comes to the creature genre, more specifically Veela fic. I first read this a couple years ago and my jaw legit dropped at the amount of world-building and carefully researched lore that went into this. so detailed and intricate and different from everything I’ve seen before or since, I was truly fascinated and couldn’t stop reading. kudos to the amazing slow burn covering years of their struggles stuck together in a dragon cave and having to rely on each other to survive. I loved seeing the hardships and how they genuinely came to care for each other, definitely one of the most moving and convincing Veela love stories I’ve read in the fandom.

Rare pair

With a Look by earlybloomingparentheses (Ginny + Deamus, E, 5k)

Now, twenty years old and done with boys and looking forward very much to putting her hand down some lucky girl’s shirt later this evening, Ginny looks at Dean Thomas’s gold-painted fingernails and feels heat pool between her legs.

I think about this fic every now and then - such a sensitive, thought-provoking and beautiful homage to the 🏳️‍🌈 community. the visceral and contemplative tone takes it beyond your regular PWP, and I’ve rarely seen gender and queerness explored quite like this. seeing Ginny figuring out and owning her identify is mesmerizing. her voice is powerful, sexy, earnest and articulates so many complex and layered feelings - I was particularly moved by the inner turmoil of not looking “queer enough”. I’m sure this fic will be eye-opening and comforting to so many people out there, and that’s why I never cease to rec it. an intimate character study, a sinfully hot and self-indulgent threesome but above anything, a poignant love letter to the queer community.

Passion, Patents, and Pen Pals at the Ministry by @violetclarity and @yrfrndfrnkly, art by @anaxandria-writes and @veelawings (Hermione/Pansy, T, 32k)

After an extremely ill-timed lovers'-tiff-turned-food-fight at the Ministry leaves her less one boyfriend and suspended without pay for six months, Hermione pleads for some position–anything–to fill her days until her suspension is up. The good news is, her temporary position in the Magical Games & Sports's Ludicrous Patents office is just down the corridor from Harry's office in General Inquiries. The bad news is Harry's officemate is Pansy Parkinson, the Ministry's operations are shockingly outdated, and every altercation between Hermione and Pansy winds up a headline in MoM's internal rogue gossip zine, Hot Goss.

rivals to secret pen pals to lovers yes please?? this hilarious Pansmione is a ship triumph and yet criminally underrated. I had a blast getting into the world of Ministry gossip & politics, and immediately fell in love with all the characters, l especially with this lovely meddling Harry. it’s SO MUCH FUN to watch poor him (and Blaise omg what a duo) in the middle of a ladies’ tug of war. I’m impressed by the amount of world-building especially around their workplace, not to mention all the side interactions and the fun, organic slow burn. I love this take on identity porn with tons of banter and Pansy and Mione connecting through their shared worldview and feminist principles, such a power couple ✊🏼 the mix of semi-epistolary, witty dialogue, dorky meddling friends and mild angst make for peak entertaining, I laughed non-stop and cheered so bad for them. femslash ftw!!!

[2treez]

I’ve always said that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. But after reading the following, you’ll see what I just realized. 💜💜

Cheyenne

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?"

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving."

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts.... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon .. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.

At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.

Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.

Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind.

But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.

Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article..."

I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me.

I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.

Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?"

"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!"

Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw...

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at is feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad 's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.

And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."

"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter... his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father... and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live while you are alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second chance.

And if you don't send this to anyone -- no one will know. But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.

God answers our prayers in His time... not ours...

God doesn't give us what we can handle, He helps us handle (stands with us, and gets us thru) what we are given. In other words, God's Grace keeps Pace with what we Face!!

-----2 Corinthians 12:9

Winston is my Cheyenne….

🌳🐾🌳

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Don’t publish Anon,

I hope you don’t mind that I’m responding, and I’ll try to keep it respectfully vague, but just know that I’m in a very similar boat (and also a decade older than you). And yes, that’s exactly why Polin hits so hard, I think.

As for your worries, I can’t tell you not to worry. I’m worried myself. But I can tell you that you’re not alone. I know our lived experiences directly contribute to that doubt and inner turmoil and the whiplash of how you feel about yourself versus “tangible proof” of how the world feels about you, and its not very easy to shut it off, and that many people’s advice on the topic can feel dismissive and unnuanced and frankly, incredibly unfair.

But I think what’s so moving about Nicola (not Pen) is that she’s veritable proof that the entire world could be madly in love with you just doing your thing and being radiantly happy and passionate and genuine.

She’s the first person who really made me see the very physically translatable beauty that comes with a person’s depth and dimension, when you refuse to let yourself be limited by the world’s narrow standards. And so, I’m really learning from her to center myself in my romantic endeavors — ask myself things like “if someone is so caught up in a certain beauty standard, is that person capable of giving you what you want out of a relationship?” Because most of the time, the answer is no.

I think if you remember that you are doing the choosing, as opposed to the one being chosen, you’ll feel the power and agency behind upholding your standards. ❤️

Also, in case you ever doubt that I’m worried about the same thing, just remember I wrote a 113k fic just to heal my own wounds. 😉 Hope you know you have a friend in me.

[creativepawsworld]

Silence -Chapter 46

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x OC

Summary = The Aftermath of finding the Adler’s in blood. 

Warnings = Seriously 18+ , Language, Grammar,  Alcohol, mentions of selling a person. Mentions of possible Death, Violent descriptions, Sexual Assault, Suicide mentioned. Child Abuse.

Word Count = 2438

Note = This chapter in my opinion is pretty heavy, with the lightest touch of fluff. I mean the lightest. It is dark and honestly it was tough to write as it was so mentally heavy? Does that make sense? Please everyone take care and remember this is only a fic, if you are uncomfortable with any of the warnings, i can recap in the next chapter just not as heavy...LOVE YOU ALL 

Sitting at the Shelby family kitchen table I just stared at the wall in front of me. My vision was only slightly blurred by the hot steam coming from the tea cup Polly had placed before me. She was sitting next to me, unsure of what to say. Unusual for the matriarch.

Tommy had taken me back to his former home, it had happened all so fast. From him peering through the window to arriving at the black doors I had once feared. He had quickly informed Polly of what had happened before taking his brothers back to the crime scene.

I felt like something was wrong with me. No matter how much inner turmoil I was experiencing, I couldn't shed a tear, not one single tear. I just stared ahead of me, like it wasn't happening.

My mind went back to my childhood, growing up was far from easy but compared to most it was not hard. It wasn't like Tommy's upbringing, my mother didn't kill herself and my father wasn't a raging alcoholic who beat his children for fun.

Yes, my parents weren't perfect. My father had a temper, his face would turn purple when he yelled, and spit would fly from his mouth soaking our faces when he did, but he never hit us.

My mother, well my mother was more mentally and emotionally manipulative. I hadn't seen it until I spent time with the Shelby family. I spent twenty-five years of my life thinking everything that came out of her mouth was God's law.

"Has she moved?" I heard Tommy's voice interrupt the Silence Polly and I had been sitting in.

"No." Polly sighed, her hand reaching out. She took my hand into hers, giving it a tight squeeze of support.

"Alright, Stace," Tommy called. I saw him move closer towards me, squatting down low next to me. The smell of his cologne, smoke and whiskey filled my nose. "Stace…" He tried again, placing a hand on my upper thigh before softly caressing my bump.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I looked down just as Tommy jumped back slightly – he was just as startled as me. A small laugh fell from my lips as a smile grew on Tommy's face. Reaching out I pulled his hand back, placing it back on my stomach. Our blessing.

I could feel Polly's confused glare looking between us but all that matter at that moment was the fluttering sensations I felt inside my stomach, along with the odd thump which Tommy could feel.

Thinking back over my timeline, and doing the math inside my head I was just over halfway. It would have been 21 weeks and I was in no way prepared.

Standing to my feet, I quickly walked through the large green doors, entered the betting shop and disappeared into Tommy's office. Taking a pen and piece of paper into my hands, I began to write down everything I needed to do, get and buy for my baby. They were all that mattered now.

"Stace," Tommy sighed, quietly closing the door to his office behind himself. The rustling of clothing told me that he was shrugging the long black coat from his shoulders. "I need you to listen to me."

"I have to write this list. The baby is coming Tommy, they are all that matters now." I shook my head, not bothering to look up at him as the pen continued to scribble across the white sheet of paper.

"Not for a few weeks," Tommy replied, walking over to the desk, and taking the pen from my hand. I opened my mouth to protest when a quick look immediately shot me down. "Listen to me." He started again, tongue darting out to moisten them.

"Are they dead?" I whispered wanting a quick answer, hoping that it would be quick and painless instead of drawn out and torturous.

"No. They are in a bad way but they are not dead."

I felt my breath hitch in my throat, and wetness on my cheeks as I leaned back on Tommy's chair. My hand came up to cover my mouth, my mind replaying his words over and over. They were alive.

"They were taken to Birmingham General. I can take you, the car is outside but I must warn you, they may not make it. Your father in particular lost a lot of blood." Tommy spoke softly. So softly it was almost foreign coming from his mouth.

"What happened to them?" I asked breathily, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I could instantly see Tommy's reluctance in telling me. His tongue ran along the front of his top teeth as he thought about what to say.

"I don't…"

"Tell me," I demanded, a nauseous feeling taking over. I wasn't sure if it was from the baby moving or the events of today catching up with me. "Please, don't…stop, just stop hiding things from me."

Tommy's eyes fell to the floor as he considered my words. I chose to remain silent as I got out of his chair to stand in front of him. I could feel the tension radiating from him, as I slipped my hands into his, lacing our fingers together.

"Your father…your father suffered multiple stab wounds to his upper chest and torso. Whoever attacked him attempted to remove his tongue but must have been disturbed before they could finish." Tommy spoke. His tone was flat and cold, almost as if he was trying to distance himself from the words he had to speak.

"And my mother?" I asked trying to keep my face unaffected even though my head and insides were spinning. Tommy's tongue ran along his bottom lip before resting between his teeth.

"Stace,"

"Tommy you agreed. If I asked you wouldn't hide anything."

"If they ever, ever try and…I swear to God I would watch them all burn Stace. I will watch them…"

"It's okay Tom, I'm okay." I squeezed his hands tightly, stopping him mid-sentence knowing what he was about to say. I felt the bile rise in my throat as I finished his sentence in my head. As bad of a person I believed my mother to be no one, no one deserved that.  

*****

Sitting in the hospital waiting room, Tommy sat by my side, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He was never comfortable inside a hospital. I couldn't blame him, I felt the same. It had this aura of death hanging around it.

The two men that guarded our front door were now positioned outside the hospital. Tommy put them there to protect my parents. I knew I wasn't going to be allowed out of his sight after Arthur returned from my parent's house, just before we left for the hospital with a white box addressed to me.

Opening the parcel inside the car under the supervision of Tommy and Arthur I found a loaf of beard. Pandoro bread.

A cold shiver ran through my body at the sight of the star-shaped loaf. I had only tried it once before with Lizzie but it was enough. Tommy was right. I had exposed myself openly to the Changretta's and this was their message.

Arthur sat in the corner of the hospital his leg shaking, bouncing up and down. His thumb was in his mouth nibbling on the skin as we waited for any kind of update on my parents' condition.

No one knew what to say, the silence was deafening.

I just stared at the doors, hands caressing my small but ever-growing bump, waiting for the doctor to come through the door. My mind wandered back to the last conservation I had with my mother, it was horrific.

I had just found out I was pregnant, it was happy news. Tarnished by the revelation that I was sold to pay a debt. I felt the tears in my waterlines as I thought about hearing that news for the first time. It floored me. Out of all the excuses, all the reasons my parents could have. That wasn't what I expected.

My father showed remorse. He regretted his decision I could see it in his eyes each time I spoke to him. Talking to him yesterday my heart broke, he hadn't been looking after himself again. There were huge bags under his eyes, he was thinner and paler.

I found myself forgiving but I wasn't sure if it was for him or myself.

I knew that keeping all that pent up wasn't good for me or the baby. But I was having difficulty letting it go. Every time the memory came to my mind, I cried.

"Miss Adler?" A voice called, turning in my seat towards a different set of doors, I noticed a nurse standing with a soft smile.

"Yeah?" I stood up, wringing my fingers between each other as I cautiously walked toward her. Her eyes dropped towards my bump, her smile faltering as I approached.

"The doctor would like to see you." She forced out a reassuring smile, eyes glancing behind me.

I felt Tommy step up behind me, hand placed on my lower back rubbing soft circles, to show his support. The nurse, instantly recognising him looked away, opening the set of double doors and allowing me to walk through.

Following her down a long corridor there were rooms on either side of Tommy and me, each one containing sick or injured patients. A dark feeling of dread washed over me as we approached the end of the corridor.

Without another word, the nurse knocked gently on the door but didn't open it. Instead, she turned with another smile, standing off to the side. Glancing up at Tommy, I could tell he was on edge, watching every move the nurse made, hand twitching at his side when the door opened revealing a much older gentleman.

"Are you Miss Adler?" The older gentleman asked. I felt Tommy relax next to me at the sight of the man in front of us. "Mr Shelby, it's been a while. Keeping out of trouble I presume."

Looking between the two men, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion before I recognised the grey-haired gentleman. He was one of the doctors looking after Tommy when he was brought in after our ambush with Sabini.

"Now Miss Adler, your parents…" The doctor began again not waiting for a response, I doubt he would have gotten one from Tommy. "Your father remains unconscious due to the injuries sustained in the attack but we believe him to make a full recovery."

"And my mother?" I asked, stopping my breath as I waited for the answer.

"She is recovering. Unfortunately, we have had to sedate her, the effects of the attack have left her highly volatile." The doctor sighed, eyes glancing towards Tommy.

"Oh okay, thank you." I nodded, unsure of how else to respond.

"You may see them if you please, Mr Shelby, can accompany you." He continued, handing over the clipboard I hadn't realised he was holding to the nurse, his eyes glancing at my stomach. "But be aware Miss Adler, they look worse than they are."

Nodding I reached my hand out for Tommy to take, instantly I felt the warmness of his hand in mine. Sending a small smile towards the doctor, the nurse opened the door he had just left to reveal the two beds inside the one room.

I stopped halfway inside, my eyes falling on the two beds where my parents lay. The sun shining through the tall window cast over them hiding the full extent of their injuries.

"If you need anything, I will be just outside." The nurse smiled, placing the clipboard in the slot provided at the end of the bed before disappearing back out the door.

Refusing to move, I bit the piece of skin at the corner of my lip – trying to decide whether or not I wanted to be there. Tears welled in my eyes, I felt myself shake and I couldn't pinpoint why.

I was completely overwhelmed. I had flashes of Tommy laying in the hospital bed and almost hated myself for wanting to be there for him but wanting to run away from my parents, especially when they needed me the most.

"Would you like to go home, Stace?" Tommy offered picking up on my discomfort. Glancing towards my parents in their beds before returning his gaze to me.

"In a minute" I whispered, willing myself forward, the soft heels of my shoes clicked along the tiled floor.

Reaching my father first, he was almost unrecognisable. His hair was pushed back out of his face, revealing a deep cut to his right temple. His eyes which I thought were black before had shades of purple, yellow and blue. His mouth had many small cuts from whatever weapon they had used to try and take his tongue.

His hands which lay just outside the blanket had cuts along the knuckles. He must have tried to fight back and defend himself. But he was so frail, I was sure he wouldn't stand a chance against a child, never mind a grown adult.

My heart began to break at the sight of him. I hiccupped back a cry as I brushed a few strands of his hair from his head before turning to my mother.

The drugs did nothing for her, she was bones with little skin. Her hollow cheeks had a deep cut, similar to Tommy's and some nasty bruising surrounded it. Closing my eyes I inhaled through my nose, part of me feeling guilty, believing that this was my fault.

Tommy almost sensing what was going through my head was quick to remind me that it was them that got involved with the Italians, long before I got involved with him. This was their own doing.

Silently agreeing with his words, I opened my eyes looking down at my mother's skeleton-like arms, dark bruises were beginning to form where they must have held her down. What kind of monsters attacks two elderly people?

"Tommy?" I whispered, gently rubbing the skin of my mother's wrist, turning to look at him over my shoulder. "What do we do now? What if they come for me?" I asked looking at the man who seemed to always have an answer.

I watched as Tommy inhaled deeply through his nose, his hand twitching in his pocket. This was the longest I had seen him go without a smoke today alone. His icy blue eyes stared into my own, and an almost sinister smile graced his face.

"Let em try."

*****

Extra note = Apologises to those who believed her parents to be dead, I did say they were potentially dead! I hope you all enjoyed reading this anyway. I really do appreciate every last one of you. 

Taglist 

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary @slutforcoffein @sydneyyyya @happysparklingshadows @margew76   @midnightmagpiemama  @pierre-gasssllyy    @duckybird101

[meadowsxdream]

SABLE WILKINS - NEW STUDENT BRITECHESTER UNIVERSITY

This inspiring Sim is part of my Lost Memories series. A series focused around giving my old sims from 2020 a more realistic look and deeper story.

I was finally able to get her makeover and spoken story uploaded here

I am not quite sure what the issue was but, between YouTube and Clipchamp my audio was getting pushed into the middle of the video once I uploaded to YouTube... I ended up having to do it all over again to get it to work!

But, I am so happy with how this one turned out. Here is Sable's story.

In the historic heart of Britechester, where cobblestone paths echo with the whispers of the past, Sable embarks on her journey at Britechester University.

For years, she has walked these grounds, the daughter of the esteemed dean, living under the weight of high expectations and familial pride.

From a young age, Sable was molded to embody potential and success. Her parents, visionaries in their own right, had charted a course for her in the world of business.

They all saw her as a future leader in the corporate world.

To those around her, Sable was the perfect daughter - She could brighten anyone's day with her cheerful demeanor.

Yet behind this lively exterior, Sable hid a profound loneliness and a soul rich with unspoken poetry.

Her true sanctuary was her room, where she would retreat to write verses that reflected her deepest thoughts and feelings. It was in the quiet of the night that her true self emerged, unburdened by expectations.

Her days were filled with academic excellence. She met every benchmark. She received endless praise from professors and admiration from her peers.

But these achievements felt hollow, a facade she maintained to meet her family's expectations. Her heart, however, yearned for the solace she found in her poetry.

As the demands of university life intensified, so did Sable's internal struggle. Her grades began to slip, a silent protest against the life she was expected to lead.

One evening, Sable sat down at her writting desk, the old university bell tolling in the distance. She began to pen a poem that captured her inner turmoil. In a moment of bravery, she submitted it to a local publisher.

The acceptance letter was a beacon of hope, her poem was to be published! A small yet significant validation of her true self.

When her parents discovered her secret passion, their disappointment was palpable. Yet for the first time Sable stood her ground, expressing her love for poetry and her desire for a life beyond their expectations.

The confrontation was inevitable and painful. But, as the anger and disappointment passed, hearts were cracked wide open. Sable's mother revealed her own buried dreams of becoming a writer, dreams she had sacrificed for duty.

In Sable, she saw a chance for redemption. Together, they began to navigate the fragile balance between familial expectations and personal aspirations.

Sable's story spread through Britechester University, it became a beacon of hope for others grappling with similar conflicts. Her journey was not just about academic success or poetic expression; it was about healing. Through her storytelling, Sable found a way to heal herself, and inspire others.

♡

I play to keep this little series going. For my next video I'm hoping to get some help deciding on a Sim!