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Tips for Hiking Alone as a Woman
Discover essential tips for solo female hiking, ensuring safety and enjoyment on the trails. We've got you covered with expert advice for your next adventure!
Even the most social of butterflies needs her quiet time for reflection. Hiking alone is not better or worse than hiking with others. It’s just a different way to enjoy nature. When you hike with others, it’s a social event. But hiking alone can be incredibly empowering. This article offers tips for a memorable solo hiking adventure for women. Key Takeaways: Embrace the peace and solitude of…
#empowering women hikers#female hikers community#female outdoor enthusiasts#hiking essentials#hiking preparation#hiking solo tips#mental hurdles hiking#navigating trails alone#solo adventure tips#solo female hiking#solo hiking safety precautions#solo travel safety#women backpackers safety#women hiking safety#women outdoor confidence
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Top 20 Tips for Solo Travel: Making the Most of Your Solo Journey
Embark on a memorable solo travel journey with these helpful tips. Stay safe, embrace spontaneity, and make lifelong memories with my list of the top 20 tips for solo travel.
Solo travel can be an incredibly enriching and empowering experience, but it also comes with unique challenges. To ensure a successful solo adventure, it’s essential to prioritize safety and planning. To help you with this, I have included my list of the top 20 tips for solo travel for you to review. There are so many aspects of solo travel that many travelers don’t even consider. For instance,…
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safety net [1/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)
word count: 25.8K
part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)
(thanks to everyone who read the first story i published, truly appreciate it! this one's more plot than anything with a smidgen of you know)
“Hey.”
You glance away from your screen to Park Chaeyoung standing in front of you, a determined look on her face. You prefer to call her Rosie, mostly because you know how much it irritates her, and you’re the only one that calls her by her English name.
“Uh hey Rosie,” You greet, slightly closing your laptop. “What’s up?”
“I have a proposition for you,” Rosie leans over the table. “And please listen to it before you flat out say no.”
You raise an eyebrow, shutting your laptop completely. You start packing your belongings.
“Wait what? What’re you doing?” Rosie straightens, taking a step back.
“Well I’m hungry, and if I have to listen to you, I would rather do it while I’m eating,” You swing your backpack over one shoulder, adding, “You’re paying by the way.”
As you walk away, you hear Rosie huff. You smirk when her arm loops with yours.
“Fine,” You don’t have to look at her to know she’s pouting, but you wonder what, of all things, she needs you for.
Guess you’ll find out.
--
The server places your orders in front of you, as Rosie sits across from you, sipping her iced coffee. You give a small thanks as your mouth waters at the sight of the burger.
“You act like you don’t eat,” Rosie comments after you take the first bite. You flip her off after taking another bite. You hadn’t eaten lunch, so you were starving.
“What do you want?” You ask before you continue eating, ignoring her comment. No matter what, you were ravenous. This burger would be gone before she finished.
“Okay,” Rosie takes a breath, composing herself. You realize that whatever she’s going to ask you is big, especially if she’s asking you. Though, you keep eating. “So you know how I’ve never been in a relationship right?”
You nod. It wasn’t any of your business, nor did you pay any attention to her dating life specifically, but your friends, the girls mostly, commented a lot about her lack of dating, or really lack of interest in anyone.
“Well, there’s this guy who I’ve been talking to lately and I think I like him,” Rosie takes a small bite of her salad. “The only problem is my, I guess, experience, if you’re catching my drift.”
This burger is too good for you to stop eating, but you nod anyways, having absolutely no idea what she’s referring to.
“I was wondering if you could help me in that department,” You raise an eyebrow, which you’re paying attention now. “I mean, will you show me how to have sex?”
You choke, being mid-bite, that the burger falls apart onto the plate. You cough as Rosie’s suddenly next to you, hitting your back.
“Oh my god, are you alright?” Rosie asks once you’ve stopped coughing.
“Yeah, I’m good,” You nod, waving off the server who was walking towards your table. “I’m good,” You repeat and Rosie takes her seat again.
“So? What do you say?”
“No,” You say flatly, staring at the deconstructed burger on your plate. Thankfully you finished most of it, but still.
“What? Why?” Rosie crosses her arms, eyes narrowing.
It doesn’t faze you. You’re used to this, especially if it’s with Rosie.
“First let me ask, why me?” You attempt to put the burger back together, distracting yourself from the thoughts of Rosie like that.
“Well, it was Jennie’s idea really,” Rosie confesses, watching you rearrange the meat patty. “She said that if I want to feel comfortable doing stuff with Soohyun, I should just get it over with.”
Choi Soohyun, the rich pretty boy at your university. You’ve met him a few times, and he’s nice enough. You know his track record with women is on par with yours, but the difference is that he uses his father’s money to pull them in. You, on the other hand, come from a relatively wealthy family as well, but only Rosie and her three best friends know that.
“And it has to be me?” You ask bluntly, appetite suddenly gone as you push the plate away.
“Yes,” Rosie nods enthusiastically, “As much as everyone calls you a playboy, girls talk. You allegedly know your way around a bedroom, and what better way for me to learn is from you.”
“Chaeyoung, absolutely not,” Using her real name was only saved for serious moments, and this was way too serious for a Tuesday afternoon.
“Why not?” Rosie argues, rolling her eyes. “It’s just sex, isn’t that what all guys want?”
“I’m not sure what guys you’ve been hanging out with, but no, not all guys want just sex,” You mock, leaning back into the chair. “And shouldn’t your first time be special with someone you actually, I don’t know, like?”
“In an ideal world, yes,” Chaeyoung answers, aggressively stabbing a piece of lettuce. “But I don’t care much for that stuff. You’re not answering my question, why won’t you have sex with me?”
There was a list of reasons you could think of as to why you won’t have sex with Rosie.
Number one, and the only one you were concerned about, being the history you have together.
You’ve been sworn enemies since middle school, but there was a time before that where you were actually close. You grew up in the house next to hers, and your parents set up multiple play dates that she was someone you enjoyed spending time with. You considered her your best friend. It changed in middle school, for reasons you still didn’t know. You didn’t have the mental capacity at that age to fix it because you missed her, but you’ve never told her that.
In high school, it was better, but you feigned indifference while she flat out ignored you. Unless your families were having dinner, but even then that consisted of snarky comments and petty arguments. The amount of times her older sister had to step in were too many to count.
You thought university would be your fresh start, but lo and behold, you couldn’t seem to shake her presence from your life. You thought you wouldn’t see her as much since you were taking different subjects, but your friends ran in the same circle, so you saw her more than you needed to.
“Do you not find me attractive?” Rosie’s question catches you off guard when you don’t respond.
You’d be lying if you said no. You’ve been a witness to Rosie turning into a beautiful woman, but if she knew that, especially coming from you, her ego would skyrocket. A lot of the men, even women, on campus have a crush on her, but she typically rejected anyone because she was too focused on school and her dream of becoming a fashion designer—something she was very close to achieving with the amount of internships she’s been receiving from companies abroad.
“Shut up, you know it’s not that,” You mumble, ignoring the smirk forming on Rosie’s face. “It’s you and me. We haven’t gotten along since we were like seven, now all of a sudden, you want to,” You pause, thinking of how to say it, “Have sex with me because of what you’ve heard?”
“Look,” Rosie sighs, face falling. You detect the desperation, but she’d never admit it. “I know our relationship is complicated, but you’re the only guy I can trust to do this. Jungkook would blab. Taehyung would be an ass. And Yoongi’s too nice. Everyone else has a girlfriend who I very much would like to stay friends with. Can’t we just put the past behind us?”
You didn’t want to further complicate things. At best, you two were civil. At worst, Rosie would be yelling at you along with repeatedly hitting your shoulder to take back whatever set her off.
Adding sex into the mix? It’s a bomb waiting to go off.
“I don’t know, Chaeyoung,” You say softly, pushing your plate away. “As much as you’re a pain in my ass, I don’t think I could do that with you. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
Her face softens, and she reaches for your hand, “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, I’m taking advantage of you. It’s not like we have feelings for each other right?”
You don’t, as far as you’re aware, but you have always, and will always, have a soft spot for her. You may not have gotten along over the years, but you’d still have her back. If she means what she says about her trusting you out of all the friends she has, it’s important.
“No,” It feels off saying that, but you ignore it. “Fine,” You relent. You couldn’t believe you were agreeing. “But we have to set rules.”
“Really?” Rosie beams, clapping her hands. “Yes yes, of course.”
“Uh, first rule, we’ll do it at my place since I live alone. I don’t need Jennie or Lisa or Jisoo hovering,” You say, which she nods. You love the girls, hell you’ve slept with Jennie on a couple occasions, but they can be nosey and overly critical.
“That makes sense. Rule number two, no sleeping over,” She makes a face, “I will literally bring you home if it’s super late, or I’ll just bring you home in general.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” Rosie rolls her eyes.
“I know I don’t, but I’m not budging,” You’re firm about that. Your parents would kill you if anything happened to Rosie and you were the last person to see her.
“Rule three, if you sleep with other people, please let me know and use a fucking condom,” Rosie says, “I don’t want my first time to end up with a disease.”
You’re slightly offended because as much as you have sex, you are safe. Even when girls don’t want to use protection, you do.
“Obviously I will.”
“Good,” Rosie nods, “Last rule, no feelings. If at any point you or I feel something more than our mutual disdain for each other, we stop.”
“Okay,” You roll your eyes, “Like I’d ever fall for you, but fine.”
A pit forms in your stomach after saying that, but again, you brush it off.
“Right back at ya,” Rosie winks, smiling brightly that she accomplished her mission. “So what’re you doing tonight? Can we start?”
You nearly choke on your saliva, eyes bugging out as Rosie looks completely serious.
“Uh,” You don’t have anything planned. You still have to finish the budget report your professor assigned, but it wasn’t due for another week. “You want to start tonight?”
“The sooner, the better right?”
“Okay,” You nod, suddenly nervous about this whole situation. “Okay,” You say a bit more confidently. “You’re paying for this.”
“I know,” Rosie chuckles, signaling to the server for the bill.
What did you get yourself into?
--
You open the door for Rosie, letting her in first before following. You shut the door while she takes off her shoes, neatly placing them to the side as you take off your coat.
“So this is your place,” Rosie comments, walking along the wall as she inspects the photos. It is her first time here, not that she was never welcomed. Your apartment has always been your safe place, only allowing a select few here. “Did you take these?”
“Yeah, I’m minoring in photography, so,” You shrug, walking past her as she stares at a photo from Jennie’s birthday. “I’m going to change into sweats, did you need anything? Water? Soju?” You offer because you’re considering taking a shot before you get started to ease your nerves.
Rosie laughs, shaking her head, “Soju? Really? You need that?”
“Don’t make fun of me. It isn’t every day that one of the hottest girls at school asks me to teach her to have sex,” You mutter, but Rosie hears you loud and clear.
“You admit that I’m hot then?” You swear you can hear her smirking behind you.
“Fuck off, help yourself to whatever,” You roll your eyes as she laughs.
You don’t bother entertaining her any longer, making your way to your room. You change into something comfy—grey sweats and a white shirt. You hadn’t expected company tonight, nor had you expected having sex. It’s been about a week since, even though your ex-girlfriend messaged you about hooking up for fun the other day. You didn’t even respond, knowing that would just end up messy.
When you return to the living room, Rosie sits on your couch, legs crossed as she types away on her phone. You’d bet she was texting Jennie.
“So how do you want to do this?” You ask awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you sit next to her. You leave a decent amount of space in between, not wanting to seem too eager.
“I don’t know,” Rosie sighs, “Is there a way we can just ease into it?”
“Like making out and stuff?” You’ve never spoken about sex so mechanically, that this is a first for you too.
“I guess? I don’t really know how to start this,” Rosie says unsurely, looking away.
“Hey,” You reach over, a finger gently tilting her chin to look at you, “There’s no pressure okay? We can just watch TV first and go from there. We literally don’t even have to do anything. As long as you’re comfortable.”
You watch her lip quiver. You hope she doesn’t cry. The last girl you made cry was Nayeon when you broke up with her.
“Okay,” Rosie nods, leaning into your hand. “Thanks again for this. I know this whole situation is awkward.”
“Stop,” You wave dismissively, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. “It’s important to you, so I guess by default it’s important to me. Your pace,” You smile.
When Rosie smiles back, you can feel something itch behind your rib cage. You quickly shake that away before retracting your hand. “Here,” You grab the remote, “Put something on, I’ll get us drinks.”
“Oh there’s this new Netflix reality show I want to watch,” You hear Rosie say as you walk to the kitchen.
You didn’t have that much to offer, since you hadn’t had the time to head to the store. You do opt for a couple bottles of soju to ease both of your nerves along with water because hydration matters. You peruse your pantry and there’s a bag of unopened chips, figuring that would be good to have too. At least for yourself to keep your hands busy.
When you return to the couch, placing the items on the coffee table, you see the opening credits of what looks like university students?
“What’s this about?” You ask. This time, you sit closer to her, so that any shift in your leg, your knees would touch.
Rosie goes on to explain the premise of the show, where people are about to be of legal age and how they form relationships in two different settings. She heard about the show from Lisa who binged it with Jennie in one night.
“Is this sappy?” You pour a shot each, handing Rosie the glass.
“Probably, but it’s wholesome,” Rosie raises the glass, “To my virginity?”
“I’m absolutely not toasting to that,” You roll your eyes, taking the shot without waiting.
Rosie scoffs, downing the drink in one go before putting the glass on the coffee table. “You’re so annoying sometimes.”
You don’t respond, instead choosing to pour another shot as the contestants of the show enter the classroom. You usually don’t drink this much on a weekday, but this situation warrants it. It feels surreal to be with Rosie, alone, in your apartment of all places. You couldn’t remember the last time you were willingly alone with her, but the thought of those memories were tucked away.
“Here,” Rosie grimaces at the drink. “Just one more.”
Rosie relents, taking the shot without making another annoying toast. You smirk before following. The liquid goes down smooth, but you feel the effects starting. Your cheeks feel warm, soothing some–not all–of the nerves.
You lean back into the couch, throwing an arm casually over the cushion. Rosie automatically leans into you, sighing deeply before resting her head on your shoulder.
“You smell good,” Rosie comments, snuggling deeper into your side. The compliment throws you off because she hadn’t said anything remotely nice to you in years.
“Uh thanks,” You bring your free hand to scratch the back of your neck. Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nor do you. You settle in, letting what’s on the screen take your attention.
The show is corny, but you understand why Rosie said it’s wholesome. The sense of innocence and pureness everyone has when it comes to relationships is something you miss. You hadn’t had that kind of outlook in years, which slightly makes you want to go into your future relationships more honest about how you feel.
But Nayeon cheating on you over a year ago left its damage on you.
You’d never be disrespectful towards women, but you were upfront that whatever you did with them would never be serious. You couldn’t let it get too intense. Sure they’d always want more, but you couldn’t give yourself to someone like that again.
At least not yet.
“What’re you thinking about?” Rosie asks after a few minutes, resting her hand on your stomach.
“Nayeon,” You say simply.
She raises her head to look at you, “Huh, what why? Didn’t you break up like last year?”
“This show’s making me a little sentimental,” You say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Why’d you two break up anyways?”
“What’d you hear?” You prod, curious as to what Nayeon told people.
“According to Jennie, who heard it from Sana, Nayeon was tired of arguing,” Rosie furrows her eyebrows as she remembers what she heard.
That’s one way to put it.
“Ah well I guess so,” You shrug.
“There’s more to it huh?” She's as perceptive as ever.
“She cheated on me,” Rosie’s eyes widened. “We got into an argument about her meeting my parents. She kept pushing the issue, but you know how my parents are. She storms out and next thing you know, I’m getting a call from Jungkook to come to this party to pick up Nayeon cause she’s wasted.”
You remember that night clearly, something you wanted to very much forget.
“I got there. I’m looking all over for her, Jungkook and Taehyung have no idea where she went. We pretty much split up looking for her, and lucky me, the first door I opened, Nayeon’s naked, on top of some guy.”
Rosie sits up straight, crossing her legs on the cushion as she faces you. The concerned expression etched on her face has you believing she almost cares, but you don’t.
“And she sees me, which immediately sobers her up. All I could do was nod, telling her that we’ll talk in the morning,” The memory still hurts to think about. “Nayeon, being Nayeon, followed me out, apologizing, saying it was a mistake.”
Rosie takes hold of your hand, and you let her. Letting this out feels nice since you hadn’t told anyone what happened. You told Nayeon to tell people whatever she felt was best, and you’d keep the real reason a secret.
“Anyways, next day, we talk and she’s sorry, of course, but she just didn’t understand what the big deal was. It’s not that I didn’t love her, cause I did, but I didn’t think we were there yet for her to meet them,” You sigh, shaking your head. “But yeah we broke up. I didn’t care what she said, and I didn’t defend myself when Sana and Jihyo cornered me, calling me an ass. I just started to sleep around, which probably was the reason why I got that playboy reputation.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Rosie says quietly after a minute, the words sinking in.
You smile sadly, “It wasn’t for anyone to know, but it’s okay. It really is. Relationships are messy, which is why I avoid any emotional connection with girls. Not because I think less of them, but because I think the least of myself in that regard.”
“Stop,” Rosie squeezes your hand, forcing you to look at her. “I don’t know how you are in relationships, but I’m sure that whoever you’re with is lucky.”
“You’re just saying that,” Self-deprecation is something you’ve mastered in the past year.
Rosie tugs your hand with enough force so your face is in front of hers. You could feel her breath against your skin, the faint smell of alcohol lingering. “Stop,” She whispers. “I’m not.”
Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the sudden confession of why you are the way you’ve been.
You kiss her, bringing your lips to hers. You sense her freeze, but she sighs softly after a moment. It ignites a fire in your chest, wanting nothing more than her close to you.
You pull away, leaning your forehead on hers. You open your eyes first to see hers closed.
“Sorry, I-”
“No,” Rosie cuts you off, cupping your face before kissing you again.
Out of pure reflex, you pull Rosie on top of you, straddling your thighs as you wrap your arms around her waist. She lets out a small oomph, which you pause, but she continues moving her lips against yours.
You dip your tongue in between her lips, earning a moan as she threads her fingers in your hair. A shiver goes down your spine as she tugs lightly, a move that turns you on immensely. Your cock stirs as her kisses become firmer, more sure.
Rosie’s body starts to move. It’s subtle, but her hips slightly shift, causing you to pull away, groaning.
“Chaeng,” You pant, hands gripping her waist to steady her.
“Am I doing something wrong?” Rosie asks softly, chest heaving as she rests her forehead on yours.
“No,” You kiss her on the nose. “You’re doing everything right. I just have to control myself,” You let out a breath.
“Would it be the worst thing if you lost control?” Rosie murmurs, pecking you softly on the lips.
The question goes straight to your cock. It doesn’t help that she’s seated right on top of it that you have to remember that this isn’t about you.
Yes is what you want to say because this is still new to her, and as lame as it sounds, like you actually care about her, you do want to make this enjoyable.
“I don’t know,” You shrug, loosening your grip. “But I don’t want to rush into it. Small steps right?”
“Right,” Rosie nods, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So what next?”
“Uh,” Your brain’s short circuiting because all the blood in your body seems to have rushed south. “Maybe just rock your hips and see how it feels?”
“Like this?” She gently rolls herself over you, testing the waters.
“Is it doing anything for you?” You grit out.
“I’m not sure, let me try again,” She rolls her body again, but with a little more pressure that she moans softly. “That did.”
It definitely did something for you because your cock stiffens at the contact.
“Just do what feels good for you,” Your head falls back as she repeats the motion, undulating her hips over your erection. “Yeah just like that,” You sigh, guiding her movements along your length.
All you feel is Rosie. She’s wearing leggings, but the friction over your sweats overwhelms your senses. You act on impulse, kissing her again. She returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm, grinding down.
You didn’t think dry humping would get you this worked up, but the small moans Rosie lets out against your lips has you hoping you don’t make a mess of yourself.
“Fuck,” Rosie moans, tearing her lips off yours as her rhythm falters.
It leaves her neck exposed, so you trail your lips along her chin, peppering soft bites that has her gripping your shoulders tightly.
You feel her nails digging into your skin. Her pace quickens before her body suddenly seizes, jerking on top of you, as she moans loudly.
Fuck she’s coming.
Doing what you can to prolong her orgasm, you rock up into her, hoping you’re hitting her clit at the right angle. Her body freezes, shaking that you didn’t have the reflex to control your own body before cumming into your sweats, groaning in the crook of her neck.
You hadn’t had a visceral response like that in years, but that was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced. The fact that Rosie got off by rubbing herself against you goes straight to your head.
Rosie’s breathing heavily against you, playing with the hairs on your neck as you try to regulate your own breath.
“I—fuck, I’m so sorry,” Rosie says softly, resting her butt on your thighs.
“What?” Your voice comes out hoarse. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know,” She buries her head into your neck.
“That was hot,” You confess, placing a soft kiss on her neck. Her body shivers at the contact, causing you to smile.
“Really?” She sounds so unsure, that you don’t know how else to make her believe you.
“Really,” You pull back to her, avoiding your gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a little wild, but she looks hot either way.
Maybe it was the release of hormones after an orgasm that could be clouding your thoughts, but you find her so attractive at this moment that you want to kiss her again.
“Did you, you know?” Rosie glances down, biting her lip.
“Uh,” You force out a chuckle. “Yeah… Sorry about that. I should probably change.”
“Right,” Rosie’s eyes stay looking at your crotch before she shakes her head. “Right,” She repeats and moves off your lap.
“Give me a few and I’ll drive you home, okay?” You stand, placing a hand over the wet spot on the fabric.
“You really don’t have to, I can call a car.”
“No,” Shaking your head, “I insist.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes,” And just like that, it’s back to normal.
“Yeah and you used me to cum, so,” She throws a pillow at you, which you easily dodge, laughing as you walk to your room.
--
--
Can we meet tonight?
The words glowing on your screen as you walk out of the building, just finished your last class of the day.
It’s been about a week since Rosie asked you. You hadn’t seen her, but she occasionally sent you articles regarding sex and if you ever experienced such things. The one that had you almost drop your phone was if you ever made a girl squirt, which you haven’t, but you explained not all girls can.
Instead of replying back with a message, you call her.
“Hello?”
“Where are you? We can do take away,” You offer, walking in the direction of where she might be.
“I’m in the music building with Jennie,” You immediately turn around to go the other direction.
“Okay I’m on the way, I’ll be there in a little,” You hang up without waiting for her to respond. You’ll probably get a slap or two, but it’s not like it matters.
By the time you reach the music building, Rosie and Jennie are outside, talking with another person. You can’t see who it is, but as you get closer, it’s Nayeon.
Fuck.
It wasn’t like Nayeon and you were on bad terms. You were always polite and treated her with the same respect you would like anyone else. It would just look suspicious to be walking alone with Rosie since she always made remarks about the weird feeling she got when you were in the same vicinity. She described it as unresolved sexual tension, but it never felt like that to you.
“Oppa,” Jennie greets, her gummy smile forming as you walk up to them. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as they dart between you and Rosie because of course she knows about the arrangement.
“Hey,” You smile, waving awkwardly to Nayeon.
Nayeon gives a small hi while Rosie slaps your shoulder, “That’s for hanging up on me.”
“Okay,” You rub where she hit. “Ready to go?” You ask, reaching for Rosie’s bag without thinking.
“Uh?” Jennie’s eyes widen while Nayeon’s narrow at the gesture. “How nice of you?” Rosie reluctantly hands over her bag.
You don’t know what came over you because you definitely didn’t just carry a girl’s bag, which Nayeon was very aware of. She knew you only carried stuff for the girl you’re dating, something she experienced firsthand.
“My way of saying sorry for hanging up on you,” You say smoothly. Her bag is heavy, which you hope they can’t tell you’re struggling.
“Nayeon was telling us about a party this weekend,” Jennie says.
“It’s Mina’s birthday,” Nayeon says softly, eyes on you. “You should come if you’re free.” There’s a hopeful tone in her voice.
“Um,” You’re put on the spot, wracking your brain for any excuse, but Rosie saves you.
“Don’t we have dinner with our parents? If we get back early enough, you could probably make it.”
You try to ignore the way Nayeon’s face falls, but you can’t ignore Jennie’s confusion since she obviously would’ve known.
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” You play along. You hadn’t had a family dinner in months, but it was a somewhat believable excuse. “I’ll see if I can make it.”
You listen as the girls say bye, Jennie opting to walk with Nayeon to catch up. When the two women leave, Rosie tries grabbing her bag back.
“What’re you doing?” She huffs when you don’t let go.
“I can carry my own bag, you know,” Rosie walks in front of you, clearly annoyed.
“I know, but just let me do this for you.”
“You’re most likely giving me an orgasm tonight, you’re doing enough,” Rosie rolls her eyes, attempting once again. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
“Fine, here,” Her comment pisses you off, but she has a point. The university playboy holding the bag of one of the most wanted girls on campus? That would surely be part of the gossip mill. You hand over the bag, a muttered thanks makes you roll your eyes.
“You’re paying for dinner tonight,” Rosie states.
You honestly already planned to, but you nod anyway.
--
“Can you take your shirt off?” Rosie asks, out of breath, as you hover over her.
“Uh yeah,” You lean back, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere to the side before bringing your lips back to hers.
That same show plays in the background, unopened food forgotten on the coffee table. The plan was to eat then fool around, but Rosie had something else in mind.
“Okay don’t let this get to your head,” Rosie says against your lips, in between kisses, trailing a finger over your abdomen, “But you’re actually hot.”
The muscles flex under her touch, that you pull her body to the edge of the couch cushion, “I know,” You smirk, dipping a hand underneath her blouse. “Is this okay?” You ask.
“More than okay,” Rosie spreads her legs wider to let you rest in between.
You grind yourself against the apex of her thighs, thankful she wore a skirt today. She moans as it spurs you on to do it again. Mimicking the motion of thrusting in and out of her has your imagination running wild as to what it will be like when you’re actually inside her.
“Fuck,” Rosie grips your arms as you continue the motion. “Don’t stop.”
You won’t until she cums, and her back arches as she rolls her hips down to meet your thrusts. After one particularly hard thrust, her body tenses and bingo.
“There?” You breathe out as you hit the same spot again. She nods, as you watch her face scrunch up. “Gonna cum for me?”
“Yeah,” Her eyes open, gaze locked in between your legs. “Fuck, Jennie was right. You’re huge.”
As if your ego couldn’t get any bigger. You’re sure she felt just how big you were last week, but she most likely didn’t see it. It probably didn’t help that you were wearing sweats that accentuated your size.
“Thanks,” You grunt, too focused on her pleasure and your own.
You flip her skirt up, mouth watering at the sight of her choice in lingerie. A simple lavender thong with a small bow at the waistband has your hips rutting into her faster.
“Fuck you’re so hot,” You bite your lip, head thrown back as she moans louder.
“I think I’m—oh shit,” Rosie’s body tenses in your hands, back arching as her orgasm washes over her. You feel her clit pulse through your sweats that you continue grinding against her.
You’re more composed this time and don’t prematurely cum. However, your cock hurts from not having a release. You’ll likely just suffer through it and deal with your problem after you drop her off.
You don’t move from your position, keeping the pressure of Rosie’s cloth-covered pussy against you. You might not get to cum, but it still feels nice. After a few minutes of her regulating her breathing and you thinking of everything not related to fucking her, she smiles up at you. You return the smile, tickling her skin that she squirms in your hold.
“Stop!” She slaps your arm. “You know I’m ticklish.”
“I know,” You fold over, resting your head on her stomach. “Was that okay?” Her skirt hasn’t moved, and you’re trying very hard not to touch her there.
“Yeah, that was… something,” Rosie sighs, placing her hand lazily on your head, lightly scratching. “Can you do something else since we’re already here?”
“Sure, what?” You look up to Rosie biting her lip.
“Can you touch me?” Rosie asks softly, adding, “Like down there?”
Your palm twitches at the request, hell, your cock twitches too.
“Uh, yeah,” You push yourself up, kneeling in between her legs. They try to close, but with how you’re positioned, it doesn’t go very far. “Just let me know if anything hurts, I’ll stop.”
Rosie nods, giving you the signal to do something. What you really wanted to do was find out how she tastes, but you tuck that thought away for another time. There will be a time in the future where that’ll happen.
You reach under her skirt, gently pulling the fabric down. She kicks it away, leaving her completely bare from the waist down.
You’re fucked.
Your mouth waters at the sight of her. Your gaze must’ve made her nervous because she quickly covers herself.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” You pull back.
“No, no,” Rosie shakes her head, crossing her legs. “I’m just nervous.”
“Hey,” You move to sit next to her. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“Can we go to your room?” Rosie offers weakly, which you nod, standing, extending a hand out. She gives you a small smile, taking it before you pull her up. She stumbles a little, but you’re there to catch her. “Lead the way?”
You guide Rosie to your room, nerves prickling at you because no woman has ever been in your room except Nayeon. You had a strict rule of sleeping with women at their place, never yours. Rosie notices your hesitation when you stand in the doorway, asking if you were okay.
“Um, this is going to sound bad, but the last woman that was in my bed was Nayeon,” You say quietly, letting go of Rosie’s hand.
“That’s okay?” Rosie says unsurely. “If it’s too much for you, we can go back to the couch.”
You shake your head. It isn’t that big of a deal, you were probably overthinking it. “No, it’s okay. I just felt like telling you that,” Which was true. You wanted to tell Rosie that, even though there wasn’t a reason to.
Rosie kisses your shoulder softly before walking around you towards your bed. She slips underneath the comforter, which you follow right after her, laying on your side as she’s on her back.
“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” You prop your head on your hand, staring at her as she looks at the ceiling.
“Yeah I’m okay, more than okay. It just feels…” Rosie trails off, pouting a little as she tries to find the words. She looks pretty cute like this, but you immediately shake that thought away. You aren’t supposed to be having thoughts like that when this whole situation was transactional. “Intimate, I guess. To be in your bed like this.”
“I suppose so.”
“But yeah let’s keep going,” Rosie glances at you before turning to face you. “How should we…?”
A question pops into your mind, “Have you ever touched yourself?”
“Err, yes?”
“What does that mean?” You chuckle.
“I guess I have. I’ve never gotten off on my own though. I’ve put a finger inside myself, but it felt weird so I just stopped,” Rosie blushes, turning away.
“Uncomfortable?” You ask softly, bringing your hand to rest on her stomach.
“I guess? I don’t exactly know what I’m doing,” Rosie mumbles.
“Let me, yeah?” You move so you’re sitting up, back against the headboard. “Come here, sit in between my legs.”
Rosie complies, settling in between your legs as she lays against your chest. You kiss the crown of her head, sliding your arms around her body.
Now this feels intimate, and oddly feels right to be with her like this. Again, you shake that feeling away, reminding yourself that this is just sex.
A finger traces down her stomach aimlessly, hoping it relaxes her. She sighs contentedly before resting her head on your shoulder. You kiss her neck, and she giggles.
“That tickles,” Rosie says shyly.
“But in a good way right?” You murmur, bringing your hand lower. Her legs automatically widen and her breath hitches as you apply light pressure on her hip bone.
“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, shifting against your cock.
“Good. You trust me right?” You dip your hand in between her legs, resting on her pubis. Her hands find your thighs to hold on to, nodding.
You swipe a finger in between her folds, slowly, and she’s absolutely soaked. Your cock twitches at how wet she is. You’re sure you’re leaking into the fabric of your sweats.
“You’re wet,” You don’t recognize your voice.
“I’m sorry?” Rosie moans as you swipe through again, gently brushing over her clit.
“No, it’s fucking hot,” You murmur and her nails scratch at your skin. “So fucking hot.”
You repeat the motion a few times, eliciting soft moans as she squirms against you. Your other hand carefully unbuttons her blouse, and when the last button comes undone, you cup her breast, squeezing lightly.
“You’re being a tease,” You smirk against her skin, nipping lightly as she drops her head down.
“Just making you feel comfortable,” You chuckle as you swipe down, dipping your index finger inside.
“Oh shit,” Rosie throws her head back when you pull your finger out.
Your finger circles her entrance slowly as her legs spread wider. This position isn’t the best and you’ll likely strain your wrist, but you couldn’t care less about yourself at the moment. You insert your finger in again, but this time, you don’t pull out, letting your finger rest inside her.
You imagine your cock inside her, stretching her out. Your cock literally aches to be inside her because if this was how she felt—tight, warm, wet—you’d bust.
“Move,” Rosie commands through gritted teeth, her hips rolling down to get more of you inside her.
“So impatient,” You whisper, biting her skin softly. “It’s like you want me or something.”
“Oh fuck you,” Rosie’s nails digging into your skin as you start to move.
“You will,” Your voice comes out low, slowly moving in and out of her slick. “Not tonight,” Unfortunately, “But you will.”
“You’re so—fuck,” Rosie chokes on her words when your palm brushes over her clit, the penetration overstimulating her.
You smirk, freeing your hand from her chest and bringing hers under yours, “Touch yourself.”
Rosie easily obliges, rubbing her fingers over her clit as you begin pumping a smidge closer. Her pussy’s still tight, but her body’s slowly welcoming the intrusion. Based on the blissed-out expression on her face, eyes closed, she’s biting her lip.
“Don’t be shy Rosie,” You kiss behind her ear, “Let me hear you.”
Her eyes open, and the lust is there. She moans louder as her fingers move faster, causing you to match her pace. Your cock aches, wanting some sort of relief that your hips lightly thrust against her backside.
“Fuck,” Is all you can say because you want to fuck Rosie, especially with how her walls are squeezing your fingers.
“Cum,” You say simply and she does.
Her body spasms, back arching as she presses her butt directly on your cock. She lets out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard, drawn out as her free hand reaches for your neck. Her walls aren’t letting your fingers move, so you opt to gently move them to prolong her orgasm.
After a minute, or two, Rosie falls limp in your hold, her arms flailing over your thighs. You slowly pull your fingers out, peering over her shoulder to see her slick. A nasty thought comes to you, and you bringing your fingers to your mouth, cleaning them to see what she tastes like, and dear fuck you want it directly from the source.
“You’re fucking gross,” Rosie pants softly, weakly lifting her arm to swat your hand away.
“You wanna taste yourself?” You brush your finger against her lips, and she makes a disgusted face. “Eh, if not now, later.”
Rosie tries to sit up, but she falls back into your chest, resting her head on your shoulder as you bring your arms around her stomach. You kiss her neck, murmuring, “Was that okay?”
“It was great,” Rosie nods slowly, turning her head slightly to kiss your cheek. “Thanks for that. I see the appeal in it now.”
You chuckle, chest vibrating against her body, “Yeah sex is pretty great.”
“I’m so tired,” Rosie yawns.
“Uh,” You’re still hard, which you hoped Rosie was too blissed out to notice. “Let me just shower first and I’ll take you home.” A cold shower was needed. You’ll probably give yourself relief when you get home, but you don’t think you’ll be able to survive the drive.
“Okay,” Rosie yawns again, “But can we stay here for a few more minutes?”
“Of course.”
Rosie sighs contentedly, snuggling into your chest. You typically didn’t cuddle after, but with her, it felt warranted. You wouldn’t say it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong. You were comfortable doing this with her, and you hadn’t felt that since Nayeon.
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t missed Rosie. Child-you would be happy to spend time with her, but adult-you knows what this is—sex. A knot forms in your stomach at the thought, but your rational side knew you and her weren’t ever going to be together.
Weird, but you dismiss the feeling completely.
“I’ll give you some clothes to wear,” You offer, nuzzling your chin into her.
“They’ll give you shit, you know that right?” Referring to her friends.
“Tell Jennie she never got anything from me,” You quip, earning a light slap on your leg. “What! She didn’t!”
“Stop talking about my friend who you’ve slept with after you just gave me two orgasms,” You didn’t need to see her face to know she rolled her eyes.
“Sorry,” You mumble, kissing her neck.
Rosie laughs, a sweet airy laugh that has your heart fluttering, and you think that it’s a sound you’d want to hear more often.
--
--
Someone ruffles your hair as you’re zoned in on finishing this expense report and you hear laughter behind you.
“What the fuck,” You pull your headphones out to see the offender.
Rosie.
With Lisa right behind her.
“Sorry,” Lisa peeks her head over Rosie, “You just looked too focused that I wanted to mess with you.”
“What do you two want?” Your eyes narrow as Rosie smiles. It eases your irritation, but still.
“Figured we’d say hello. Chaeng saw you, but didn’t want to disturb you. I, however, did,” Lisa answers, stepping forward. There’s a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Hey,” Rosie says softly. “I’m sorry. I told her not to.”
“It’s okay,” You shrug, checking your watch.
“Do you have plans tonight?” Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, eyes darting to Rosie, who slaps the back of her head. “Ow.”
“I have a game with Yoongi in about an hour.”
“Oh we should watch!” Lisa nudges Rosie, who rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Rosie gives you a look, as if she’s waiting for you to invite her yourself. You smile, giving a small nod.
“Okay fine,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head, but she smiles at you anyways.
“Are you good oppa? I’ve seen Yoongi play, and he’s pretty good,” Lisa asks as you start to pack your stuff.
“I guess you’ll see,” You didn’t like talking about yourself. You considered yourself decent, but there would always be someone better.
When you finish, you decide you wanted to tease Rosie. You wait until Lisa’s a few feet away, leaning forward, “I’m usually pretty riled up after a game, so I hope you’ll come over after.”
The blush on Rosie’s face has you grinning, which gets even wider when she gives you a small nod.
--
“I don’t get why you do that.”
“Do what?” You ask, mouth full of mandu.
“Say you’re not good, but then score twenty points like it’s nothing.”
“So you were keeping track?” You smirk, reaching for another mandu on the table with your chopsticks.
“No, Yoongi told me after the game,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms as she slouches into the couch.
“It’s okay if you did, I’m flattered you paid that much attention to me.” That earns you a slap, but you couldn’t care. You played the whole game so you were starving.
You’re back at yours, just hanging out. You really had no intention of doing anything with Rosie tonight, even if you did tease her about being riled up. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you enjoy spending time with her as of lately.
Lisa gave you a thumbs up when Rosie told her she’d be leaving with you. No one seemed to notice when you two walked out together, but Yoongi did text you asking where you went since the team usually went out after.
“I have a question.”
“Go for it.”
“Do you ever feel frustrated after we you know?”
“Uh,” The question catches you off guard.
It’s been two days since, and you can admit it was a struggle after feeling her cum on your fingers. You thought about having sex with someone to give you some relief, but that thought had the knot in your stomach tightening.
“Frustrated in the sense I need to release,” You answer honestly, but quickly followed up with, “But it’s not that big of a deal. I took care of it.” The tips of your ears burned at the implication.
Rosie sighs next to you, shaking her head, “Okay can I be honest?”
“Uh of course?”
“I feel bad,” You were about to bite into the last mandu, but you stopped. “I feel like you’re always making me feel good, but I feel like I’m doing nothing in return.”
You place the mandu back in the box, dropping your chopsticks with it.
“Believe me you are,” The memory of Rosie’s face as her orgasm hit was something that could not be forgotten.
“But it doesn’t feel like it!” She throws her hands up dramatically. “I haven’t even seen your you know yet.”
“Oh my god,” You chuckle. “Just say it. It’s not a bad word.”
“Cock?”
“No.”
“Penis?”
“No.”
This conversation is getting nowhere.
“Take it out,” Rosie says suddenly.
“Only if you say cock,” You raise an eyebrow.
“No.”
“Then no cock for you,” You poke her nose after she huffs, hitting your leg.
After a minute, Rosie shoves her face into your chest. She mumbles something that you can’t quite make out, asking her to repeat.
“Cock,” Rosie says quietly, rubbing her face deeper from embarrassment.
“Was that so hard?” You smile, kissing her head. “Do you really want me to ‘take it out’ as you so eloquently put it?”
“Yeah,” Rosie mumbles, and you swear there’s a pout.
“You do it,” You offer, shifting slightly to wrap an arm around her. “No pressure Chaeng. Do whatever you feel is right and if anything hurts me, I’ll tell you.”
Rosie shyly asks if you could move to your bed, which you happily oblige. You swoop her in her arms, causing her to scream and slap your chest the whole way to your room. You laugh as she curses at you, but it’s fun for you and you know she thinks it is too.
“You’re annoying,” Rosie comments after you drop her on the bed. “Literally the most annoying person I know. How do girls put up with you?”
“I can think of a few ways that make up for it,” You sit on the edge of the bed, facing her.
“Arrogant too,” Rosie adds, shifting her body so she’s next to you.
Neither of you say anything while you’re sitting. You’re trying to think of how to guide Rosie while she stares at the floor. An idea pops into your mind, as you scoot until your back is pressed against the headboard.
“What’re you doing?”
“Seduce me,” You say simply, patting the space next to you. Her eyebrows furrow, but she’s right back next to you in no time.
“How?”
“We’ve done a few things together, I’m sure you could figure it out.” It wouldn’t take much to turn you on. Your control slips every time Rosie’s over that your body has a mind of its own.
She could kiss you and you’d be hard, as embarrassing as that is.
“Um okay,” Rosie bites her lip as she looks at you.
You smile, winking even, that makes her roll her eyes.
Rosie leans forward, kissing you softly on the lips. You keep your hands still, but your lips move easily against hers. She lets out a small moan when you dip your tongue into her mouth. Her arms circle around your neck, pulling you closer.
The blood in your body rushes south, waking your cock as Rosie presses against you. Kissing her has become one of your favorite things even if you’ve only done less than a handful of times. As someone who has had a healthy sex life, it’s scary how easily your body reacts to her.
She detaches her lips, placing soft kisses along your jawline. You let her, relaxing into the headboard as your eyes close.
A groan escapes from your lips when Rosie places her hand over your crotch.
“What?” She pulls back, a concerned look etched on her face. Her hand doesn’t move though.
“Nothing, you’re doing great,” You take a breath, “Just caught me off guard.”
Rosie makes a sound, but goes back to kissing your face. Her hand starts to move, palming your cock over your sweats.
Your body immediately reacts, hardening underneath her touch. She smirks against your neck, “Well hello.”
You laugh, shaking your head before kissing her sweetly on her forehead, “It’s a bodily reaction, what do you expect?”
“I think your body likes me,” Rosie brings her lips to yours before sitting straight. In a swift move, she swings her leg over you, cupping your face and bringing you in a bruising kiss, not giving you a chance to answer.
You instinctively rest your hands on her waist, pulling her body flushed against yours. She lets out a moan as your grip tightens.
You’re too lost in the kiss to notice Rosie sneaking her hand in between. Her fingers brush against the waistband of your sweats, abdomen tightening at her touch. You mumble a pathetic please because all she’s doing is riling you up. She smirks against your lips, dipping her hand to actually touch you.
Your head’s spinning and your hips involuntarily thrust into her hand. Given the space, it’s a little tight, but Rosie’s hand wrapped around you has your control slipping faster than before. You pull your sweats down so you’re fully free.
“Is this okay?” Rosie asks in between kisses as she slowly moves her hand up and down your length.
“Fuck yes,” You groan, detaching your lips from hers as your head falls backs.
Her hand’s soft, velvet-like, as she strokes you. You’re almost scared to look down because you feel yourself leaking as she cups the tip. She tentatively spreads it over you, that it’s making you lose your mind.
You open your eyes to Rosie intently staring at her ministrations, her tongue slightly peaking out.
“You can squeeze a little, but—ow shit!” Your hand shoots out, holding her wrist as you gasp.
“Oh my god,” Rosie automatically lets go, “I’m so sorry!”
You cough, catching your breath. You’re already sensitive, but it felt like Rosie was about to rip your dick off. “I’m fine,” You cough again, “Just a little lighter.”
“Sorry,” Rosie mumbles, looking away.
You place your hand over hers, together enclosing over your cock. “Like this,” You slowly move her hand under yours, applying enough pressure. Her hand’s smaller than yours, so she can’t completely fit around your girth.
“How does it feel?” Rosie asks softly.
“Good,” You nod, eyes rolling back as you let go of her hand. “So good.”
Rosie experiments with her grip and pace for a while, going faster at times while squeezing the right amount that has you seeing stars. You’re too focused on her hand that you don’t notice her move off your lap.
Something warm envelopes your cock and your eyes shoot open to Rosie’s mouth around the head.
“Fuck,” You grip the bedsheet, nearly tearing it off. “Give me a warning next time,” You moan.
“Sorry,” Your cock fucking pops out of her mouth as she continues to stroke you, “It seemed warranted. Too much?”
“Not enough,” Your abdomen tenses as she engulfs you again, going farther down your length.
Her tongue licks your tip as you watch her cheeks hollow out. You're mesmerized as she moves her head up and down your length, and each time she gets lower.
“Has anyone ever deepthroated you?” Rosie asks, catching her breath, but her hands don’t remain idle.
“Uh,” You barely hear her question, “I don’t know,” You couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else at the moment, but if she wants to try, you’ll let her.
“Can I try?” Rosie places a sweet kiss on the tip, making a face as a smidge of precum gets on her lip.
“By all means,” Your eyes roll back. Your hand itches to hold onto her head, but you’re scared of forcing her to take more than she can.
Rosie’s lips are around you once again, and the tip hits the back of her throat. There’s a sharp inhale, and you’re not sure if it’s from her or you, but that doesn’t deter her.
“Chaeng,” You grit out and your hand moves to the back of her head, threading your fingers in her hair. You don’t push down, but her throat relaxes and takes you all the way. “Fuck,” Your fingers fist through her locks, keeping her there until her finger taps on your thigh.
You immediately let go, and she comes off your cock, a slight dribble of drool on her chin.
“How was that?” Rosie smirks.
“Either make me cum or fuck off,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her that she doesn’t reply, instead taking you down her throat once more, swallowing around your length that you cum without warning.
You try to pull her off as your release shoots down her throat, but she’s adamant to take all of you. Your eyes roll back when she swallows, the pressure becoming too much as your hips thrust up into her mouth.
Rosie’s mouth is dangerous, and you’re thanking whatever deity for her skills. You’ve had your fair share of blow jobs, but she’s number one in your book. You’re definitely never going to tell her because practice makes perfect, and you know she’s a perfectionist. It might be a little selfish, but you’ll gladly be willing to take whatever she gives you until this is over.
Once your orgasm and she’s drained you for all that you’ve had, your hand relaxes, dropping to the side. She slowly comes off your cock, overly sensitive, but she licks the underside and that has your head spinning.
“So,” Rosie sits in between your legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, “How was I?”
You’re still trying to catch your breath, but you weakly get out, “There’s always room for improvement.”
“Really?” Rosie raises an eyebrow, eyeing your now-soft cock. “I drained you in less than fifteen minutes.”
“I’ve been pent up,” You mumble, eyes closing. “I blame you.”
“Just admit you think I’m hot,” Rosie’s suddenly hovering over you, hair tickling your face.
“Move your hair,” You try to push her off, but you’re bone dead. Playing a game followed by this has your body exhausted.
“Admit it,” Rosie kisses your lips, a slight tang on them. “I did,” She adds.
You groan, wrapping an arm around her so she’s fully on top of you, “Why do you need to hear that?” You know she knows you think so.
“Cause,” She kisses you again, leaving her lips on yours.
“Cause what?” You sigh, lazily moving your lips against hers.
Rosie’s tongue dips into your mouth, short circuiting your brain before murmuring, “Cause it’s you.”
Your eyes feel heavy, wanting to pass out and you actually might. Something washes over you before your body shuts down. You don’t know why, but you tell her, “You’re not hot, you’re beautiful,” before sleep takes over completely.
(You wake up a few hours later, alone, but not without a note on your nightstand, groaning at Rosie’s cursive—
Thanks handsome guy <3 see you around.
ps I called a car, and before you beat yourself up, it’s okay)
--
--
It’s stupid.
You’re stupid.
A fool, some might say.
You’re calling yourself a fool.
What compels you to be at Rosie’s apartment door, waiting, holding a bouquet of roses, without even asking if she’s home, is beyond you.
It’s a risky move, the longer you wait for her—or anyone for that matter—to open the door.
You immediately felt guilty waking up to Rosie’s note. You didn’t even return the favor, and you’ve been wanting to. In your mind, showing up at her place, uninvited, with flowers, was a way to make it up to her before asking if she wanted to come over so you could thoroughly make it up to her.
The door swings open and it’s Lisa, clothes wrinkled and hair all over the place. You don’t comment on it because you know something’s going on between her and Jennie, but it wasn’t your place to ask. Instead you ask, “Hey, sorry to bother, but is Rosie in?”
Lisa smiles, and your face falls, the answer doesn’t need to be said, but she invites you in anyways.
You don’t know why you just don’t leave, but you enter their apartment, slipping off your shoes while awkwardly holding the flowers.
“Here, let me take those.” They’re out of your hands before you could respond. “Make yourself at home.”
You’ve been here a handful of times, mostly when there was a party or someone needed a ride home, but it feels off being here.
Or does it feel that way because she wasn’t here?
You follow Lisa to the living room, seeing Jennie seated on the couch in the same disheveled appearance. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s you here, but she doesn’t say anything except for a polite hello.
Neither of the women say anything, but Lisa prepares the flowers in the vase. You stare at the coffee table, trying to find any words to explain why you’re here.
“So what brings you here?” Jennie asks a question she knows the answer to.
“Uh, I thought Rosie would be in,” You answer, scratching the back of your head. You notice the silent exchange between the two, but the sad smile that forms on Jennie’s face says enough.
“She’s out at the moment,” Jennie bites her lip, thinking of what to say. “She should be back in an hour or so. You’re more than welcome to stay.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” You sigh, realizing just how stupid it was for you to show up. Your thoughts stray that she’s out with Soohyun, but that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
“She’s having dinner with Soohyun,” Lisa says and you watch Jennie’s eyes narrow, rolling her eyes.
“Lisa.”
“What? He should know,” The woman shrugs, acting as if it’s not a big deal.
And it’s not.
At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.
“Rosie can do whatever she likes,” It comes out harsher than you intended, but you’re feeling something that you don’t want to acknowledge. You stand, “I should get going. Uh, you guys can keep those. No need to tell her that’s for her. Sorry they’re not blue Jen,” You add, knowing those are her favorite.
Jennie gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head, “You’re sweet, you know that right?”
“Sure,” You shrug, walking towards the door. “Sorry to bother you both,” You bow after slipping your shoes on.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Jennie asks, meeting you by the door.
“Yeah, it’s okay. Please don’t tell her,” There’s a fifty-fifty chance Rosie would find out, odds being Lisa telling her where the roses came from.
“Why not? It’s sweet you brought her flowers.”
“I don’t really have a reason as to why,” You do have a reason, but you’re not sure how much Rosie shares with them.
Jennie looks like she doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t press you anymore, nodding. “See you at Mina’s?”
“Maybe,” You answer vaguely, remembering that you actually have to see your parents this weekend sans the Parks. “I have a business meeting with my parents, so I doubt I’ll make it back in time.”
“With Chaeng?” Jennie raises an eyebrow.
“No, just me, so I’ll be in Seong-buk,” You grimace at the thought of having to sit in this, but your father’s adamant it’s good exposure for you.
“Well I hope you can make it,” Jennie reassures, hugging you briefly before taking a step back.
“You’ll see me if I do,” You wink. “Thanks again Jen.”
Once the door shuts, you sigh. You couldn’t believe you showed up at Rosie’s place, unannounced. What were you expecting? You’re still not entirely sure, but you’re disappointed nonetheless. It’s almost been two weeks since this arrangement started and you’re scared you’re getting attached. You’ve had longer flings and felt zero attachment to them.
You question why it feels different, and you toy with the idea of joining Jungkook in Hongdae to remind yourself that you don’t get attached. A wave of guilt passes through you, which you’re torn on what you should do.
“Fuck it,” You mumble to the empty hallway.
--
You hear the door knock and pause the show you’ve been sort of watching with Rosie. You’d rather drown in the river than admit you actually like this show.
You aren’t expecting anyone except the food delivery, so you are surprised when you open the door to see Rosie.
“Uh hey?” You greet. One look at her and you know she’s upset based on the fire in her eyes.
“What the fuck,” Rosie spits out.
Great. Fucking Lisa.
You aren’t given the chance to ask anything as she barges through the door. You turn around once the door’s shut, and she’s seething.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why the fuck did you show up at my place?”
“Drop off flowers for Jennie and Lisa,” You answer noncommittally, crossing your arms as you lean against the door.
“Bullshit. Tell me why,” Rosie steps forward, invading your space. Her perfume makes you dizzy, but you can’t dwell on it too much since she looks like she’s about five seconds away from ripping your head off.
“What do you want me to say?” You deflect. You didn’t want to get into the reason why—the actual reason—that had you take the train back to yours instead of a club.
“The fucking truth!” She throws her hands up dramatically, shaking her head.
“I came over because I wanted to make it up to you for completely knocking out last night, happy?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door and walking past her.
“No, I’m not—hey! Get back here, I’m still talking to you,” Rosie’s hand encloses over your wrist.
The move forces you to turn around, reflexively pulling her into you so that you’re face-to-face.
“Don’t,” Your voice comes out low. “I’m being honest. Your turn now, why are you here?”
“Because,” Rosie tries to get out of your grasp, but it’s futile. “As soon as I get home, Lisa fucking singsongs that you dropped by with flowers to see me. Then she told me she mentioned to you that I was out with Soohyun.”
You let go, dropping her hand completely before taking a step back. Hearing his name makes you sick, but you refuse to admit why.
“How was that?” You ask, tired, because you knew what you signed up for.
“Do you really want to know?” Rosie crosses her arms, glaring.
“I don’t, but you’ll tell me anyway.”
“It was good. He’s funny. He’s polite, offered to pay the bill, and walked me to the door,” Each word digs at you, but you don’t let it show. “He wanted to come in to say hello to the girls, but I told him I just wanted to sleep. He asked me out again.”
“And? Is there going to be a second date?”
“Yes,” Rosie says flatly.
“Good, happy for you,” You hoped you sounded as detached as possible. “Now you still didn’t answer why you’re here if you ‘just wanted to sleep’?”
“Because I’ve been fucking frustrated since last night,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head. “I didn’t think I would be, but you fucking fell asleep. I tried dealing with it myself, but that made it worse.”
All you’re imagining is Rosie, in her bed, touching herself, which has you immediately hard. But you’re a little ticked off at the moment to fully enjoy that imagery.
“Why didn’t you ask Soohyun to help you?” It’s a low blow, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Rosie pushes you, like actually pushes you, with enough force to move.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” Rosie seethes out, turning to walk out. “I planned on coming over after the dinner for you to take care of the problem you created.”
You’re faster, grabbing her arm to pull her body flush against yours.
“So you couldn’t cum?” You whisper.
“Fuck you,” Rosie struggles to get out from your hold, but you have one arm securely wrapped around her waist.
“I don’t think we’re there yet,” You murmur, “But there is something I still haven’t done.”
“I’m mad at you,” Rosie ignores your suggestion.
“If I do what I want to do, I promise you won’t be mad.”
“Doubtful,” Rosie pouts, relaxing into your embrace.
“I’m sorry,” You mean it.
“I’m still mad,” She huffs, burying her face into your chest.
“Let me make it up to you,” You tilt her head up, forcing her to look at you. “Please?”
“Fine. On the condition I sleep over.”
You freeze, vividly remembering the rules you set in place that she wouldn’t sleep over.
“Our rules?”
“You broke the first one by coming over without telling me,” She reasons.
“Do you want to spend the night?” You ask nervously. You hadn’t spent the night with a girl since Nayeon. Every time you had sex, you’d leave before they woke up, or right after.
“Yes,” Rosie rocks on her tiptoes to kiss you briefly, wrapping her arms around your neck. “It makes things easier for us.”
“Can I still bring you home in the morning?” You ask shyly, looking away.
“You better,” Rosie smiles. “I’m still mad though.”
You roll your eyes, using your strength to pick her up, wrapping her legs around your waist, “I’ll make it up to you.”
Rosie squeals, hitting your shoulder as you carry her towards your room. “Don’t drop me!”
You chuckle, shaking your head, as you kick the door open, “You’re fine, trust me.”
You do drop her on the bed and Rosie huffs as she sprawls out on the bed. You take in her appearance—a simple black dress that falls mid-thigh with her hair half-up. She’s beautiful, but you won’t say it out loud—even though you feel like you’ve told her.
“You’re staring,” Rosie comments, resting on her elbows, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Can you blame me?” You drop to your knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. “Do you trust me?” You ask softly, locking eyes with her.
“Yes,” And that’s all you need.
—
You wake up slowly, yawning and stretching. Your arm hits a body, causing you to almost jump when you notice a body’s pressed to your side. You remember that Rosie stayed the night after spending a good amount of time and effort in between her legs.
She had physically yanked you away from overstimulation, but it was worth it. The sounds she made along with how she tasted was something you wanted to do again. You barely scratched the surface, but you were addicted.
You had to give her credit because she came three times. You tried to go for a fourth, but she mustered enough strength to kick you away. You wouldn’t let up until she wasn’t mad anymore. By the second orgasm, she wasn’t, but you had to make sure.
When you were done, cleaning up the mess you made, you kissed her softly as she laid limply on the bed. “Thanks,” She mumbled, sighing contentedly as she played with the hairs on the back of your neck. “I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“I know,” You smirked, kissing her again before laying your head on the pillow.
Rosie wanted to return the favor, but you shook your head, embarrassed to share that you were touching yourself while eating her out. She found out anyway because you couldn’t lie to her. It went straight to her head, teasing you that you couldn’t help yourself. She kissed the pout away before falling asleep.
You check the clock on your nightstand, “Fuck,” You mutter, stirring Rosie awake.
“What’s wrong?” Rosie’s voice comes out hoarse, slightly turning her body.
It’s almost noon, and you haven’t finished looking over the reports and proposals your father sent over last night.
“I’m so sorry,” You sit up, shaking your head in frustration. “I would make you breakfast, but I have to review some things for tonight.”
“What’s tonight?” You watch her rub her eyes, and you can’t help but think how cute she is.
“I have a business dinner with my parents.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…” You trail off.
“Do you want me to go with you? I’d just have to stop by my place to change, but I can go,” Rosie offers, turning as she pulls the blanket over her.
Your heart flutters. If there’s anyone that knows your parents, it’s Rosie. She’s known them since you were kids, seeing just how much pressure was put on you being their only child. It sucked a lot when things changed, but you couldn’t dwell on it that much. You were just trying to appease what they wanted, even though you knew it would never be enough.
“Alice is home too,” Rosie adds when you don’t respond. “I can just hang out with her until you’re done.”
“Are you sure?” You didn’t want to impose on her plans for the day.
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” Rosie sits up, the blanket falling slightly down her body. You glance and remember she was wearing one of your shirts that was a little too big on her. “Mina’s party is later, so we could go after if you need to blow off steam.”
“We’ll see how I feel,” You scoff, knowing exactly how you’d feel after. “But thanks Chaeng, it means a lot.”
“Eh, I know how they are, so,” Rosie shrugs, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. She rests her head on your shoulder, laying an arm along your stomach. “I’m sorry it hasn’t gotten any better.”
“It’s okay,” You say a little too quickly, but she doesn’t press the issue, snuggling deeper into your side. “Thanks,” You mumble.
“You could always do whatever you want, they’d come around,” Rosie suggests, tracing a finger up and down your abdomen.
“Yeah, like being a photographer would make enough money for them. They’d see it as a hobby, which it is, not as a career,” You say bitterly, shaking your head at the memory of when you suggested it that one time.
“Well you could always take pictures of me, and you know, I know people in fashion that could see your portfolio.”
“Chaeng, you’ve done enough for me,” You’re shocked that she’d even offer this. You knew that she had connections, but she worked hard for those. It would feel wrong to actually take her up on it.
“You’ve also done enough for me,” She pokes your cheek. “Just think about it, the offer’s there.”
You don’t know what to say. You deflect with humor and sarcasm because it’s what you know, especially with her, “Careful, it sounds like you actually like me or something.”
“Oh fuck off,” Rosie slaps your chest, giggling.
She doesn’t confirm or deny it. You’re left wondering if she ever could.
--
The car’s silent except for the music Rosie asked—demanded—to play, connecting her phone before you could say yes. You’re on your way back to the city, finished with the business meeting with your parents and some overseas executive who brought his daughter too.
You were completely blindsided. It was a business meeting disguised as a fucking introduction to a ‘potential’ wife that your parents shamelessly arranged on your behalf. You weren’t that much of an ass to be completely rude to the girl—Kazuha—who also didn’t want to be there. She flat out told you what the meeting was, which you appreciated her honesty.
Nakamura Kazuha was pretty, an innocent air around her that would have you interested if it was under normal circumstances. Your parents coincidentally left you alone for a bit to get to know each other, and she seemed like a great person. She was shy, but polite. She was funny, in a quiet sort of way where you had to be paying attention.
Kazuha told you she had a boyfriend that she wanted to be with; however, her parents didn’t approve. It was a point of contention because it wasn’t like Satoshi was a bad person, he just didn’t meet the standards they had—in other words, not wealthy.
You shared that same sentiment, explaining your last relationship with Nayeon and how she was a great person, but you knew your parents would never approve.
“Who was that girl you dropped off?” Kazuha asked once dinner was over. Your parents off to the wine cellar.
What?
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Kazuha smiled. “We arrived the same time you did and I saw you walk a girl to the house next door.”
“Oh uh that’s Rosie,” You answered vaguely.
“She’s pretty. Are you two dating?”
“What? No, she’s just a friend,” You rushed out, but Kazuha wasn’t dumb. She could tell that you weren’t just friends.
“Interesting. I don’t know many guys who walk friends to the door, but,” She shrugged, “It’s none of my business. That’s sweet of you though.”
When you only nodded, she smiled again, moving on to talk about other things. The thought of her observation struck a chord, causing you to dwell on it for the rest of the evening.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rosie’s voice cuts through your thoughts.
“Do you want to hear about it?”
“I do,” Rosie nods in your periphery.
You tell her everything.
How the meeting wasn’t actually business for your parents. How they purposely set you and Kazuha up. How your father tricked you into preparing for something that was already signed. How your mother boldly asked when you and Kazuha would see each other next—when she lived in another country. How you were pissed and irritated and upset. How you were just tired of it.
“I mean, fuck, at this rate, I might as well just go along with it because every single choice is made for me,” You hit the wheel while stopped at a redlight.
“Hey,” Rosie coos, reaching for your hand, the tension melting away from your touch. “Don’t say that.”
“Well it’s not like I have any other fucking choice, unless I end up with someone who’s as rich or richer than my family, they’ll never approve. I’m literally setting up my future wife for a lifetime of disapproval. Look at Minjun, his wife hardly even attends family gatherings,” You scoff.
You saw firsthand how your cousin’s marriage was affected by someone your family deemed ‘not good enough’. You also admired how Minjun stayed with his wife when everyone, even you, said not too because it wasn’t worth the headache.
Rosie tugs your hand to look at her, a sad smile etched on her face, “Well then you just haven’t met that somebody yet.”
“How can I when I’m literally getting put into arranged marriages at this point?” You sigh, tired from the dinner.
“You will, I’m sure of it,” She squeezes your hand, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re smart. You’re kind. And don’t let it get to your head, but you are good-looking. Anyone who gets to be with you would be lucky.”
Your ears burn from her compliments. The comment of your looks does go to your head, but you don’t want to ruin the moment.
“Thanks,” You mumble shyly, looking away as you start driving.
“Are we going to Mina’s?” Rosie asks, keeping your hand on her lap.
The use of we has you confused.
“Uh, I was just going to drop you off and stay in. I don’t feel very social anymore. I’m still worked up,” You roll your eyes, turning right onto Mina’s street.
Rosie squeezes your hand, her thumb rubbing your skin, “Are you sure? It could help you get your mind off things.”
“The only thing that would get my mind off anything is I fuck someone,” You say crassly.
“I’m right here,” Rosie lets go of your hand, huffing.
“Yeah but I have a bit of aggression at the moment. I can’t exactly take you roughly,” You pull up to the curb, a few houses down from Mina’s.
“And why not?” Rosie unbuckles her seat belt, crossing her legs on the seat to face you.
“You think really low of me if I’d have your first time be like that,” You reason, rolling your shoulders as you shut the car off.
Could you imagine taking Rosie roughly? Absolutely. You know how flexible she is, and you could have fun with her body if she gives you enough time with her. You wanted to prolong this arrangement because time’s running out. You weren’t sure if it would be a one and done type of thing, but you didn’t want to ask.
“I don’t,” Rosie scoffs, leaning forward to kiss you softly on the cheek. “But I hope we’ll get there.”
The kiss sends a shiver down your spine, melting into the car seat. You turn to kiss her on the lips, a simple peck that she deepens, pulling you into her that has your body on fire.
“Can I convince you to stay?” Rosie murmurs, sneaking a hand to your slacks. She palms you through the fabric, causing you to groan against her lips. “I think I can.” Her hand deftly lowers the zipper.
“Chaeng,” You tear away your lips, head falling back on the headrest as you watch her take your cock out.
“Yeah?” Rosie moves over the center console, dropping her head.
“We’re in public,” Your voice comes out hoarse as her head goes lower, tongue slipping out to lick your tip.
“It’s dark,” Rosie kisses your cock, “Better be quick then.”
In a swift move, Rosie’s mouth encloses over you and you’re a goner.
--
You laugh at the nonsense Jungkook says in an attempt to distract the pair across the table from missing the shot. It works, and you’re one cup away from winning again.
You feel lighter than you did an hour ago. All thanks to the woman who happens to be sitting very closely to the man she’s interested in. Although, you’re trying your best not to dwell on the sinking feeling in your stomach every time you glance her way.
“Dude you got it,” You nod to Jungkook who’s a bit drunk, but he swears his coordination gets better the more he drinks.
Your best friend smirks, winking at the other team before smoothly tossing the ball and it falling perfectly into the lone cup.
“And that’s game,” Jungkook puffs his chest out while the other two roll their eyes. “Who’s next?”
“Take Yoongi for this round, I need some air,” You say without waiting for his response. You walk off to the kitchen, grabbing a beer before you make your way to the backyard.
A few people stop you, mostly girls, asking what you’re doing after. You give a noncommittal answer because you would like to leave with Rosie, but the odds of that happening are low.
The cool air hits your lungs and you let out a breath. A much needed one with the amount of people that are inside. There’s a few people, but they’re all in their own conversations, not paying you any mind.
You find an unoccupied couch, deciding to sit alone before Jungkook finds you. You’re not drunk, but you’re not sober either. You’re in that limbo of a few more drinks might put you over the edge.
Your mind vividly replays Rosie ‘convincing’ you to stay. She didn’t need to do much to get you to cum, but she did well to get you there in less than five minutes. You were almost tempted to say fuck the party and head back to yours, but after she swallowed you for all you had to give, she patted your head and said it was time to go inside.
“Can I sit with you?” A voice immediately brings you out of your thoughts, your gaze falling on your ex-girlfriend.
“Sure,” You scoot over, making some room on the couch.
You take a sip of your beer, letting the bitter liquid sit in your mouth as you gather your thoughts. It wasn’t that it was hard to be around Nayeon, it was just awkward. You two were cordial, and you knew–thanks to Sana–that she wanted to get back together. You tried avoiding her, but running in the same social circle made it difficult.
“How’s your night?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes.
“It’s good,” You answer politely. “How about yours?”
“Same.”
The noise from the house fills the silence when neither of you say anything else.
You were with Nayeon for almost two years, and there was never a lull in the conversation. She would either be asking you a million questions or she would be telling you about her day in great detail. You tried to be friends with her after you broke up, but you didn’t think it was worth it.
“How are you and Chaeyoung?” Nayeon asks nonchalantly that you pause mid-sip.
“What’s there to know?” You finish your beer, placing the glass bottle on the table.
Nayeon shrugs, sipping her wine, “I saw you two walk in together.”
“We had dinner with our parents,” You lie, but it was more a half-lie since you actually did have dinner with your parents, just separately.
Nayeon makes a humming sound before saying, “Your relationship with her was always interesting to me.” When you don’t ask what she means–she’ll tell you anyways–she continues, “I knew you two quote unquote hated each other, but regardless of that, there was always something that made me think you, or her, might’ve had feelings.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Nayeon?” You sigh. The way this conversation was going instantly killed your mood.
“It’s hard to explain,” Nayeon shrugs, taking another sip. “But she likes Soohyun right? Or they’ve gone out together.”
“I don’t know who Rosie likes, and it’s honestly none of my business,” You were getting irritated, especially since his name was now in the conversation.
“I’m not saying it is your business, but all I’m saying is to be careful. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” You snap. “You literally fucking cheated on me over an argument.”
“You don’t think I regret that?” Nayeon’s voice cracks. “I’ve regretted that ever since.”
“It’s too fucking late for that Nayeon, I don’t want to hear it,” You stand, blood boiling. “I’m fucking over this.”
First the dinner with your parents, now this. You didn’t want to rehash the past with Nayeon. It was over. You got cheated on by a girl who was your first serious relationship, someone you loved, and thought about a future with. Then said-girl was telling you to be careful with Rosie, of all people.
You knew what you were doing with Rosie, but for Nayeon to say what she said struck a chord.
Why?
That was something you weren’t ready to admit.
You walk away from Nayeon, leaving her alone. As soon as you enter the house, Jungkook calls you over, but you beeline for the front door without a second glance at Rosie.
(But if you did, you would’ve seen her stand up from her seat next to Soohyun.)
“Hey!” Rosie calls out to you. You don’t turn around, your pace picks up. “Hey, what the fuck happened?” Her hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you as soon as you reach your car.
“Nothing,” You pull your hand away, jaw clenching as you try to compose yourself.
“That’s a fucking lie.”
You turn around, eyes glaring to the same expression, “Just let me be. I don’t want to deal with anyone else tonight.”
“Too fucking bad, I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what happened,” Rosie crosses her arms. “I also have your fucking keys dumbass.”
Fuck.
“Give them to me,” You reach around her, knowing she put it in her back pocket, but she was faster. She took the keys out of her pocket, holding it up in front of your face. “Chaeng.”
“You’re not fucking driving in this state. You’ve been drinking and you’re obviously pissed for whatever reason. I’m calling us a car and we’ll get yours in the morning. Don’t fucking fight with me about this,” Rosie glares, raising her chin defiantly.
“Fine,” You roll your eyes, leaning against your car.
You watch Rosie pull her phone out, calling a car or whatever. The alcohol was catching up to you. You close your eyes, trying to calm your nerves because you were still pissed off. You shouldn’t have taken it out on Rosie, but you weren’t expecting to see her for the rest of the night.
You feel arms wrap around your back, Rosie’s perfume suddenly invading your senses, as she rests her head on your chest.
“Let’s just sleep tonight okay?” Rosie whispers against your chest. “You’ve had a long day.”
“I’m sorry,” You mumble, realizing your mistake.
“Don’t be,” Rosie’s hand finds its way underneath your shirt, soothingly rubbing your lower back.
“What about Soohyun?” You ask, doing your best to not sound like you were watching her.
“He’s not relevant right now,” Rosie says softly, looping her fingers through your belt loop. “I’ll talk to him this weekend.”
It annoys you a little bit, but you can’t help but think you’ve won some non-existent, one-sided competition with Soohyun. Rosie’s leaving with you and not him.
You’re treading a thin line, crossing into dangerous territory. You’re hoping that once you have sex, all these feelings and thoughts that have been plaguing your mind will vanish.
Because getting involved with Rosie was never on your mind.
--
--
--
(It was way too long to fit in one post -_-)
#blackpink smut#blackpink rose#blackpink park chaeyoung#rosie smut#park chaeyoung smut#park chaeyoung
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My Father's Eyes - prologue
about: Bradley comes to terms with growing up without a father to guide him while quickly adapting to become one himself… to a child who wants nothing more than not to have him in her life.
word count: 2.5k
warnings: nsfw 18+, language, angst, fluff, smut [...probably]. no posting schedule.
You slipped your phone carefully into your backpack, cursing low. It hadn't stopped blowing up since you took the opportunity to unwind a little with a few after-work drinks. You were generally an automatic no, so giving the affirmative to a question perennially asked just to be polite was met with more confusion than excitement - you weren't sure how it made you feel. Your social skills felt like they were severely lacking (not to mention the pop culture references you were behind on unless it was, of course, Taylor Swift)... You simply weren't social anymore.
You mostly tolerated your work associates, they were all friendly, smart, and considerate, but come Friday, you were on your time and couldn't wait to get home to start your weekend. You had wine, pizza and TV to catch up on and it would be perfect. Basic in its simplicity and you didn't care what anyone else thought.
"One more drink," your co-workers begged.
"Let loose, we never get to hang out aside from work," they added.
And while you were having a pretty good night, you had other reasons to be home -
But the revelry was about to end as hoots and hollers of patrons in the bar overcame a raucous Friday night crew as a group of sailors walked in. Grand in their whites, gleaming, broad grins, covers and sunglasses in the dim, overcrowded room. Your eyes scanned each one like they always did when moments like this materialised.
Your heart rate elevated, and the hairs on your arm pricked up. Hands clammy -
The warning signals in your brain were firing louder than an air raid siren. That face you never expected to see again among that crowd, and it was more handsome than you could even recall.
Bradley Bradshaw. Your first... everything. Young and dumb, you fell head over heels for that boy with his head in the clouds and that impish grin. He who dreamed big, much bigger than you ever could imagine.
Tall, broad, tanned, unassuming. He was surreal, it felt like a dream how he’d just returned your life without warning. This wasn’t his hometown, so you knew he was here for work. A nightmare occurred even as you rose from your place at the small cocktail table and started making your apologies for the drink just placed before you, reaching eagerly for your bag and other random belongings you’d whipped out.
That you had to get home, "Oh, look at the time - " that you had to go -
You had to just get the hell out of The Hard Deck. You knew better, even if the time to now had been on your side in previous ventures to the joint.
The crowd swarmed them, and you took your opportunity to try and get out without being noticed. You knew Bradley had no idea you would be there. The beautiful man was immediately surrounded by striking women all vying for his attention, and although he appeared to enjoy it, he was keeping them all at bay. You could see that from your safe distance.
But that last tequila had done you in and you had to get to the bathroom before you got into the Uber - while you weren't feeling the effects of the alcohol, you felt could be ill at any moment. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you hissed to yourself, slamming the cubicle door after you, the safety of the bathroom gave you small comfort but it relieved the feeling of someone standing on your chest in any way.
Sitting, you had no choice but to overhear the gossip of the sudden arrival of the newly decorated squad who had just entered the place, sending the bar into a tizzy.
“ - Hangman is blonder - "
" - suave Coyote was - "
"I don't know how Natasha can be around such sexy men all the time."
"Come on, she's as talented, and dear god, she as hot as them. Don't discount her rank because of some guys. I’m sure she deals with pissing contests 24/7.”
You silently cheered for the last person's comment, whoever this Natasha was. Good for her.
But no mention of Bradley.
"It's like the Navy put together the sexiest aviators they had - " this person was also right. They always grandstanded like they were in movies. And tonight, even Bradley.
Flushing, you pulled yourself together and made a hasty exit strategy in your brain as you furiously washed and dried your hands. The closest door from the bathroom was also the furthest from the pool table and you were in luck as you heard the roar and the familiar opening keys to Jerry Lee Lewis' Whole Lot of Shakin' Going On.
Come on over, baby, whole lotta shakin' goin' on, Yes, I said come on over, baby, baby, you can't go wrong...
And abruptly, you were young, dumb and 21 again. Falling for this schtick then and, by God, his voice deeper than it was and you could swear, better. Sexier. Older. Bolder. Not your shy, quiet reserved college boy on his summer vacation in San Diego... but look at you now, falling for this schtick again. The way he could sway people on full display as the crowd and his friends/teammates, how were you to know, tumbled over each other at the grubby old piano you’d never seen touched to now to spread the revelry with him.
"My old man listened to this album so much when I was a kid," Bradley said quietly, delicately handing the cover to you as he wandered over to the old turntable he'd mentioned was also his father's and you watched him intently. He could make you listen to white noise or nails on a blackboard and you’d be enthralled with it. "I don't have too much of his stuff," he explained, considerate as he dropped the pin on the record tenderly. "But this song," he laughed quietly as Great Balls of Fire filled his small room of the share house he stayed at that school break. "We sang this song a lot as a family. Please don’t hold it against me, I’m very aware Lewis was a fuckin’ creep of a dude,” and you couldn’t resist your smile as he offered you his hand and danced with him.
And how often that summer that hand lead you down a garden path of trouble.
You probably hadn't listened to Jerry Lee Lewis since it reminded you too much of him. And of course, the artist was controversial at best, just like Bradley said but you’d never, ever forgotten the words.
And as you headed towards the door, the need to see Bradley Bradshaw just one more time overwhelmed you. His jacket stripped and sleeves of his crisp, white shirt rolled to his thick golden forearms, the collar on his shirt strained around the thick ropes of muscles of his neck and throat as his cheeks pinked in the hot room.
Aviators sliding down his strong nose in the exhilaration of being the centre of attention. He was thriving off it.
He was as handsome as the day you met him. The way he captured your attention as he retrieved the football that landed near your beach bag that fateful day. His soft voice of apology as his buddies teased him down play. He apologised on their behalf and asked if he could make it up to you The way he handled the room funny to you, your once shy, quiet boy now commanding the group at the bar, singing with him, vying for his attention... singing to just get that small piece of his time.
Home soon kiddo. Hope you had a good night with Amelia, you texted quickly.
As the song ended and the place erupted again in enraptured applause, you slinked out as more sailors slipped in and took in a deep breath, the humid beach air filling your lungs and you called for the quickest car to get you home safely... to safety.
"Hey," you heard the voice behind you. You were so fucking close to the car... so close to escaping without a trace... but just like the old days, his voice warming you to your bones. But you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, even as he gently took your wrist and guided your body towards his. "Holy shit," you heard the small flutter of laughter in a bubble against his lips. “It is you.” He was clearly as shocked as you were.
The softness in his rough rasp. It had haunted the better part of the last 14, 15 or so years. Dreams, nightmares.
You were so close to breaking free of the bar without him seeing you - but that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. In his quiet calm, he was always watching.
...bringing yourself to raise your eyes to him was the hardest thing you’d ever had to do. To his warm, humoured honey ones, his grin just melted you like it always had. So much about him had changed, the moustache you were perplexed about. Some faint scars marred his handsome face that you didn’t recall but they certainly didn’t look new (even if new to you). They gave him a light ruggedness, maturing him. But you could only compare him to the senior in college, eagerly awaiting his acceptance into the Naval Academy.
And he was big. Taller, broader, stronger. BIG.
And white certainly was his shade. He chewed his lower lip, and you were reminded of the charming boy who left you all those years ago. The man now before you who didn’t even know he had changed the course of your life.
"Hello, Bradley," you finally said, and he stood to height, the recognition in your voice as you tried to keep his gaze. His tongue tracked his upper lip and he finally smiled, not the smug arrogance on display as he and his team ponied in earlier, but the sweet genuineness that was simply Bradley.
"Hi," he swallowed. "Been a long time," he reckoned.
"Yeah," you agreed.
"Looks like time has been good to you," he said, low, appreciatively.
And you laughed as he visibly relaxed, the flirt enough to break you. You weren't sure if he was trying anything, but the air was finally making it to your lungs.
"You still livin' around here?"
You gave a soft nod. "Yeah."
"I'm just in town a few days," he admitted as you nodded. "I - my team and I - were just promoted. Lieutenant Commander."
"This why you're all dressed up - or were?"
"My whites?" he asked.
"I saw you come in."
"And yet you tried to sneak out before you said hi," he teased.
"I'm sorry," you admitted. "But congrats on your promotion. Kind of a big deal?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "Kind of."
Hearing the knocks on the glass, his attention was demanded back inside. Relief swept through you as he shooed them away with a swift flick of the bird and they howled inside but left him to his devices.
"How about coffee this weekend? It would be great to catch up," Bradley pressed. "Find out what you've been up to. Husband, family, work. All that stuff."
"Ha," your voice faltered. "I'm pretty sure it's nowhere near as exciting as yours," you forced a laugh, and he really didn't seem to take the hint. His pout at your near rejection only seemed to spur him on further.
"One coffee and I'll get back on the boat and be out of your life forever," his lips quirked, and you remembered how you felt when he made that face without the moustache. He could get away with a lot then, just like he was getting away with it now. "Look... here's my number," he urged, holding out this hand as you sighed and unlocked your phone to enter the digits. You saw how he'd saved it.
Bradley Bradshaw (a big deal?). You had to laugh as he winked, relieved for the smile that crossed your features but you weren't sure if he was offended or not when you didn't offer yours in reply.
"Kind of a big deal," you confirmed with a giggle, those nerves bubbling under the surface rapidly now. He shrugged, the cheekiness of the boy you knew still evident in the man before you.
"Text me if you wanna catch up. I wanna hear about what you've been up to since graduation all those years ago. I fly back to Virginia Tuesday."
"Fleeting."
"Very much," he agreed. Sighing (with relief, but Bradley would never catch that), your Uber was right before you. He moved around you to open the passenger door. "Been a long time..."
"Longer than you know," you admitted, slipping into the car and he carefully closed the door behind you as the driver recalled your address and you left Bradley Bradshaw for what you hoped was the last time.
Your fingers itched to delete his number, but all you had to do was get through the next few days without the temptation to text him and it would be fine.
Life would go on and he's sail off into the sunset again like he promised.
Home ten or so minutes later, you made a beeline for upstairs. The bedroom door closed and silent from the other side. You pushed your way in quietly, the room dark, and you sat on the side of the bed, your hands drifting to the mess of dirty dark blonde curls splayed across your daughter's pillow as she read on her phone with her earphones on.
"Hi, sweetheart," you whispered, gently pushing back a tendril on your daughter's forehead. "Bedtime?" you suggested as she shrugged. Ahh, teens. You kissed her forehead before standing and leaving her room, your beautiful girl protected under the snuggly covers.
You didn't know how you were going to tell her that you saw her father tonight. After all these years and radio silence, doing what you could to protect her from the hurt you knew you'd caused by keeping this very real secret from Bradley.
"Shit," you muttered, wandering the hallway to your bedroom, your nerves shot, hot tears threatening and everything you'd done so well protecting to now... about to shatter into a million pieces with the return of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw.
masterlist.
A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x
#my father's eyes#rooster#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw#dadley dadshaw#rooster bradshaw#rooster fanfic#rooster imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun#top gun rooster#rooster bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw imagine#the bradshaws#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun#notroosterbradshaw
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A never-ending Worry
(A/N): Ikea gave me a big anxiety attack the other day. Here we are now.
Summary: Reader discovers her own anxiety together with Max through several instances.
Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
Wordcount: 2k
🏎Masterlist🏎 _____________________ Anxiety is a peculiar thing, especially when you suffer from it. It is for (Y/N) at least.
Ever since her first anxiety attack at the ripe age of 16 years, (Y/n) started to worry. About everything. All the damn time. Her head is running the whole time, thinking about different scenarios that could happen. Like her best friend once said:
“The possibility of a baby killing you is slim, but never zero.”
Maybe the possibilities for any of the “what ifs” really happening is low, but she will be prepared if it does happen. It’s an odd sense of safety she can find refuge in, especially in a world of unpredictability.
This is where the peculiarity comes into play. She does not have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe it all.
But (Y/N) never really talked about her constant worries coupled with a never ending feeling of nervousness. Never spoke of this feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone feels like that, right?
“Hey Schatje? How many pairs of underwear have you packed for us?” Max called out for (Y/N) as he unpacked their suitcases, that his girlfriend herself packed for the two a couple of days before the trip even started.
A bit befuddled by his question, (Y/N) walks from the kitchen of the rental apartment, where she just finished putting away the groceries they got from their first run to the supermarket, to the bedroom.
“10 pairs for each of us. Do you think it won’t be enough? We can still go out and get some more tomorrow.” Max halts his movements for a second to check if her serious tone matches her face.
It does.
His girlfriend really means what she said.
“No, they will definitely suffice. You do know that we are here for only four days, right?” Max smiles at her. Maybe she just got something mixed up.
“Yes, of course. I planned our activities. It would be bad if I didn’t know about the length of our vacation.” She laughs to herself while moving to help Max unpacking. “Why are you asking?”
“Oh, nothing particular. Just checking.” Ok so. It is a thing for many women to overpack, especially regarding their underwear. “Can you explain your thoughts on the number to me? Why did you decide to pack 20 pairs of underpants in total?”
(Y/N) throws him a look. “Well, we need at least four, one for each day. Then I doubled that number, because something could have gone wrong on our car ride here or will on our way back, making us stay on vacation longer. Then eight felt like it’s not enough. Adding to the extra days, an accident could happen that makes you need an extra pair a day, right? And nine is an odd number that is not even a prime number, so I rounded up to ten. Completely logical.”
Well, it’s logical to her at least. Max was partially amazed by her train of thoughts and worries. He just let it be like that. After all, it’s just over packing and he loves how prepared she is in any given situation.
Prepared (Y/N) is. Always.
“Man, it is so hot, my fingers are sticky with sweat.” Daniel complaints. It’s a race weekend in Singapore and the Aussie is right. It is hot.
(Y/N), who walks with Daniel around the paddock while she waits for Max to get out of a meeting, starts to rummage in her backpack. The back she carries with her all the time. It’s close to iconic.
“Here is some hand disinfectant. It makes you feel a bit less sticky.”
Daniel smiles thankfully while taking the little bottle from the female’s hands. “Thank you. I just need to remember to put on some lotion, I don’t want my hands to dry out.”
As soon as he finishes his sentence, she replaces the disinfectant with another small bottle. “Don’t worry, I got you girl.” She winks at the Aussie.
“Oh wow, do you have everything important with you? Can you flee the country with that backpack spontaneously?” Daniel jokes, but it goes over her head.
“Yes, pretty much. I got a small first aid kit, my laptop and all needed chargers for my electronics. Oh, and my passport and IDs of course. Ah, and some small knick-knacks and snacks. Gotta be prepared for the worst case scenario, right?” Her seriousness unsettles something in the driver. But he kind of lets it go, just nodding to her statement. She is right, at least a bit, after all.
“Do you get more nervous when you get into the car? Or is your level of nervousness on the same level?
(Y/N) and Max cuddle in bed back in the safety of their home in Monaco. While asking the question in the wariness of the night, she traces the same shapes over and over again in her partner’s skin. It gives her an odd feeling of safety, the repetition.
Max has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean?” “Well, does your level of feeling nervous rise from the usual one before or during a race?” It sounds plausible to her. But it doesn’t for him.
Max sits up, leaning his upper body against the headboard to have a better look at his girlfriend. “Yes, it does rise, because my usual level of nervousness is zero like for everyone else. Of course I feel different from that, when I get into the car that can bring me over the finish line as a winner. I don’t get the question.”
(Y/N) blinks at him with a frown. “Not- no, not everyone’s level is zero. It’s really just for you that low.” Of course Max is always cool as a cucumber. He only gets this feeling in extreme situations.
“Oh Schtaje. It’s really not. Most people don’t feel nervous often. Do you?” He pulled her close to him, enveloping her completely.
“Not always. Right now, I’m not. But that is, because I’m with you. I know that together we can solve anything.” Max senses that (Y/N) doesn’t want to continue the conversation. He lets it be another time, partially to not make her feel completely uncomfortable in a peaceful moment, partially because he wants to do some research.
Her conversation with her boyfriend sparked something inside (Y/N). Hearing that not everyone is feeling the same way she does, it’s a lot to take in. So she started to do some reading of her own.
Many people on the internet describe the same moments she has: Constant nervousness, the need of being prepared at all times or she’ll break out in a sweat, plus the endless worrying.
And the sudden bursts of intense panic. These moments, where an all consuming fear grips her whole body into a chokehold. That makes her breaths become heavier and her thoughts even faster.
Reading about similar experiences to hers, it makes (Y/N) feel less alone. But one word stood out to her.
Anxiety.
She heard of it and has seen the portrayals on TV. But those are not what she feels. Or is it?
Everything and nothing make sense at the same time.
“Do you want to drive?” Max offers as they get ready to go out for dinner at a restaurant that is a tad too far away to be considered walkable distance. He regularly lets her drive, it’s a bit of emancipation. Why shouldn’t she drive when she has a license for that?
(Y/N) shakes her head no. “I don’t like today’s thoughts. I also feel extra nervous right now, I couldn’t find the menu of the restaurant online.” Max nods, understanding what kind of thoughts she is talking about - intrusive thoughts.
He also appreciates her openness with him about those feelings. “It’s ok, Schatje. I love driving for you, it’s my favorite kind of ride. We will also find something for you, we can order some dishes and share them until you decide which one you want.” He gives her a reassuring kiss on the cheek, hoping to ease up her worries.
During the drive, she holds his hand on the control stick. “It’s good to have you back. Last night I woke up in a panic and thought something must have happened to you on your flight and that this was the reason I had this huge anxiety attack. I couldn’t sleep until you texted me this morning when you landed at the airport.”
His heart grows heavy at that confession. He hasn’t known the extent of her anxious feelings. Max didn’t know how much they overshadowed her in her daily life.
(Y/N) herself never realized how much she has been hindered in her routines by her own thoughts and worries.
“It wasn’t the first time this happened. But it was the worst it has been so far. I thought you died. I waited for my phone to ring or the police to stand at the door, getting notified that you died in a plane crash. I already planned the next steps I had to take from there in my head.” (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look at her boyfriend after this admission.
It is weird to say something out loud, that she used to bury deep inside of her. This kind of vulnerability, it makes her want to crawl back into that hole again.
Over the last couple of weeks she realized that those spiraling thoughts are not here to make her feel safe. That the need of over preparedness is not necessary. That her anxious feelings are not some signs of something bad.
These thoughts are false friends, waiting for your demise, your downfall, to be able to say “I told you so”.
But where to go from here, from the realization of something going gravely wrong, to getting a grip of the situation. To make it all go away?
Max squeezes her hand before putting a kiss on it without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m here for you. I want to hear all those thoughts. As silly as they may sound out loud. I can help you in differentiating if they are necessary, needed, thoughts or if they are the product of overthinking. I want to help you. I want you to not feel anxious all the time. I want to help you through the anxiety attacks. We can get counseling - for only you or together. Just, let me be here for you during every step you take.”
His pleading brings tears to (Y/N)’s eyes. She didn’t know how noticeable her anxiety issues were to outsiders. She doesn’t know what it feels like for Max, seeing her in her most anxious states.
“Yes”, she answers him, “I want you to be here with me. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.” “You don’t need to find out. I’ll be there, for better or for worse.”
Turns out, Max’ deadpan and brutal honesty is exactly what (Y/N) needs.
The evening, where he was away for a race and she had to stay behind, because of her own work schedule. (Y/N) called him in the middle of a not very pretty anxiety attack. “I have this doctor’s appointment. It’s a check-up for my physical health. And what if I-I’m deathly sick and we are catching onto that only now?”
“This is a dumb thought.”
The female halts in her movements. Is it a dumb thought?
“I mean, yes. I regularly go out to donate blood. But maybe they haven’t caught something important accidentally.”
“That is stupid and unlikely.”
She stops again. “You are right. I actually have nothing to worry about.”
The road to having less anxiety is a twisted one, paved by setbacks and a small gap between succeeding and failing. But with Max as a passenger princess on that path (Y/N) knows she got it.
She will be ok, eventually.
#max verstappen image#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#x reader#reader insert#x you
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LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Reader [3]
description: With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward. word count: 9.4k trigger warnings: GORE, blood, Dove absolutely wrecks the jackals I won't lie. Very explicit imagery used for their deaths. Swearing. Layla thinks Dove is the mistress and is angry, talks of dove not owning her body anymore, talks of having bodily autonomy taken away. Quick hint at Dove's dark past. main masterlist | series masterlist
authors note: I hate writing action scenes so if this seems rushed or bad I'm sorry, action is not my strongest point!
Please reblog and comment for your authors!
She watched as Steven was led in cuffs to the black BMW that gave away no hint at being a real police car, eager to scramble back into his apartment from off the moss covered rooftop that had her second death of the week written all over it.
Layla was quick to hop back inside behind her, nearly shoving her out the way to get to her backpack.
“They wouldn’t kill him, would they? Marc said-” The younger woman started, trailing after Layla like a lost dog. This was way out of her depth. The way Marc had described it made it seem like he had it under control. About as under control as Egyptian Gods and resurrecting dead people goes, that is. He had said nothing about his ex-wife showing up or Steven being taken hostage by police impersonators.
Layla stopped at the sound of her husband’s name leaving the girl’s lips.
“Mention Marc one more time and you are walking to wherever Harrow is taking him, you hear me?” Layla seethed, looking at her with eyes cold as ice despite being a beautiful, warm brown.
Dove choked on her words for a moment, swallowing whatever she was going to come back with and instead choosing to nod once.
“Yes- Sorry-”
“Good,” The woman hissed, turning on her heel and heading for the front door. “And remember what I said about talking,”
“Gotcha- right,” She stammered in reply. Layla was more intimidating than Marc had been, more than Donna even. He was annoyed when they’d spoken, sure. Cold? Absolutely. But to Layla, she was actively a pest. A bug. A rodent that had crawled into her marriage bed and weaselled her way into her husband’s life. Which wasn’t true of course. But she understood that Layla had more than enough reason to be upset with her.
Heading after the woman, hot on her heels, she bit her tongue the entire minute they spent in the elevator, neither of them willing to start a conversation with the other. Whether it be pride (Layla) or sheer wanting to avoid getting punched in the stomach (Dove), the two women stayed silent until the metal box dinged and released them from the horribly tense atmosphere.
Layla set off for her moped that she’d parked on the road, unlatching the red leather seat upwards to reveal a spare helmet in the cubby. Shoving the smooth, maroon hard hat into the younger woman’s arms, Layla strapped her own onto her head and swung a leg over the caboose.
Dove followed suit, hopping onto the back, her arms faltering slightly as she looked for some kind of handle to hold onto.
“What now?” The driver’s annoyed voice snapped as she caught on to the fussing from behind her.
“Where do I put my arms?” Said a quiet tone, hating the helplessness in her voice yet the embarrassment was too much for her to have asked otherwise. Layla rolled her eyes, grabbing the woman’s hands and bringing them around her waist.
“Just hold on,” She ordered, a hum of energy blasting into the engine as she kicked off the curb and set off. The motor jumped to life, and the two women were speeding after the fraudulent fed car in no time. She clutched onto the front woman for dear life; she had always hated amusement park rides, and she was sure Layla was at least somewhat tempted to stage an accident with the way their morning had gone.
“I’m really not sleeping with Marc, you know,” She braved to speak, gripping tighter in fear the single comment would tip her counterpart over the edge.
“What did I say about-”
“I know! I know!” She called, loud enough for Layla to hear her over the bustle of London traffic, “I just wanted you to believe me. You’re more than right to be unhappy with him. Truth be told, the one time I’ve met him, he’s not exactly been a charmer.”
That seemed to perk up his ex wife’s ears. “You’ve only met once?”
“Yes. Like I said, I work with Steven at the museum. I only met Marc this morning when he told me-” She cut herself off, unsure of just how much he would want Layla knowing. How much she already knew. She didn’t even know he had a dissociative disorder, it wouldn’t be wrong for her to assume his wife wasn’t privy to other things too.
Maybe that was why they were divorcing? But that was none of her business.
“Told you what?” Layla pushed, which only caused the girl at the rear to sigh heavily. Layla didn’t need to know much. And besides, it was her burden to bear now, not Marc’s. She could tell her if she wished. Hell, perhaps Layla could even help her seeing as she already knew so much about the scarab.
“He told me,” She paused, coming to terms with how insane she was about to sound if Layla didn’t know much about her husband’s second, well third, life. “He said I died being chased by one of Harrow’s jackals, and the only way for him to save me was to give my body up to Setekh in exchange for becoming his avatar,”
Layla was quiet for a moment, the car Steven was in not too far ahead of them as she hung back to avoid suspicion.
And then, after a few seconds, she laughed.
Loud and bitter, but laughed at her nonetheless.
“I just told you I fucking died, and you’re laughing?” Her passenger asked, aghast, which only made Layla laugh again. “Well, fuck you too,”
“No, sorry, it’s just,” The woman shook her head, taking a semi sharp right in order to stay on their tail, “Trust Marc to meddle in someone’s life and end up keeping her around because he feels guilty,”
Her face warmed. So Layla really did know her husband then.
“His meddling saved my life,” She tried to protest, the image of Marc’s eyes softening slightly when she’d grabbed his hand that same morning flashing in her mind. Without Marc, she wouldn’t be here. She tried to pretend the idea he was only keeping her around because he felt responsible for her now didn’t sting.
At least Steven wanted her around. For now, that is.
“Did it?” Layla asked, all remnants of humour gone, replaced with a cold seriousness. Not mean like she had been all day, moreso a sobering tone of reality, “My father told me every story there was about Seth.”
“He’s a historian?” Dove asked, curiosity winning over her bitterness that the woman had laughed at her. She thought now maybe it was out of disbelief, maybe even pessimism at hearing the nefarious god’s name.
“No, an archeologist,” Layla replied, “He said Setekh was once worshipped as a way of protecting crops and villages from the storms he created. He said it was thought because he was the god of foreigners he was responsible for all the oppressors attacking the people. He became the one who caused all the bloodshed, the evil, the barbarity. Every bit of chaos and violence was down to his hand,” The woman said, speaking with a passion for her country it was clear she had lived, slept and breathed everything her father taught her, “It was said while Anubis was the first God of the Dead, Osiris took the role during the later centuries. And when his brother, Seth, slaughtered him and scattered him in pieces around the world, he took on the title of God of the Dead,”
“Glad I’m not invited to that family reunion, then,” The other girl muttered from her place at the rear of the bike. Layla smirked to herself, not willing to let the younger woman know she’d drawn a small smile from her.
“They were always at each other's throats. And when they weren’t, they were usually marrying their sisters.” To which Dove recoiled in horror. The BMW started slowing down ahead of them, which they were both quick to notice as it took a right hand turn into a less populated area. The sky had been quick to overcast shadows, the April air turning cold and darker fast. As if someone up there knew what was coming.
“Lovely,” She mused, “Well, my family doesn’t talk to me anymore so I’m sure we’ll be okay as far as incest marriages go,”
Layla’s expression faltered. She hadn’t expected the quiet mouse of a girl to drop something so heavy, yet it was clear from her widened gaze she didn’t quite mean to say that so bluntly. To set off such a bomb on their already awkward ride. The striking woman wheeled up onto a curb around the corner from the narrow street the car had pulled into, trying to avoid the gazes of the few people they saw communing there.
Cutting the engine and hopping off the seat, Layla held the bike steady as the other woman did the same, all but falling off the back of the moped with a newborn fawn-like grace.
The two women looked at one another, the younger one handing the helmet over sheepishly. “Look, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot,” Dove murmured, unable to quite meet the beautiful woman’s eyes, Layla’s lips neither drawn into a sneer nor a smile. More a mix between pity and as if she were still weighing up the girl who picked at the loose skin around her nails anxiously.
“It’s alright,” Layla said with a long huff, swinging her bag over her shoulder, “Marc tends to leave people to deal with the shit he gets them into,”
The girl bit her tongue, pleased that she didn’t seem to be on Layla’s hit list anymore. They had bigger things to worry about now, like the fact Steven was essentially kidnapped or that they had yet to find somewhere to keep the scarab hidden.
She felt it burning in her pocket, as if it were buzzing with the glory of being what everyone had their sights set on; of being such a harbinger of trouble.
“Maybe so,” She said, handing the jewelled bug over to Layla to keep it safe, “But trusting him is the only hope I’ve got right now. Marc said Seth will be coming for me any day now,”
Layla looked at her for a moment, dark eyes raking over her forlorn figure some few years younger than her. The girl's eyes were soft, new to the world and the shit storm that was about to hit her, but her hands were what gave away her condition. The slightest touch of her fingers to her own where she handed her the scarab and Layla was able to feel just how cold her skin had become. Dead. Corpse like. As if the life truly had been drained out of her ten times over.
She wondered how her younger accomplice would fare as an avatar. Though Layla had swore that once those papers were signed this was not her fight anymore, she couldn’t help worrying just how badly her ex had seemed to mess up this young girl’s life in the space of one evening.
Seth was not a god you wanted to upset. Nor was he one you wanted to be of interest to. If everything that Abdallah El-Faouly had told his sweet daughter was correct, then that girl, barely mid twenties as she was, was in for a lifetime of torment and pain.
“Well, if that’s true, I hate to be the one to tell you to run and hide as soon as you can,” Layla said, her voice empty of emotion but her eyes genuine, “If Seth is the one looking for you, I can guarantee you’ll wish Marc had left you for the jackals,”
“Where is the scarab?” Harrow and his followers cornered Steven, still as lost and dazed as he had been all day. He just hoped that wherever Dove was, she was safe and far away from this mess that his other self had dragged her into.
“We have it.” Steven’s head whipped around at the sound of Layla’s voice, clear and commanding and filling the abandoned building.
And sure enough, his sweet friend stood next to her, eyes wide and clearly thrown off by the El-Faouly woman’s plan to draw attention to them.
“What the hell are you doing?” She whisper-yelled as the two women trailed through the crowd of Ammit’s followers, both of them watching carefully for anyone getting ready to attack them.
“I’m drawing their attention, Marc will deal with them easily,” Layla replied under her breath as they neared the two men in the centre of the room. It seemed Harrow and his followers had renovated some kind of church or antique building to become a communal hall. Community food lay out on tables around, a projector playing an old documentary on the dusty wall.
Harrow’s followers didn’t seem to have anything particularly off about them. In fact, they seemed like regular citizens you would see around the streets of London. Nothing about them screamed evil, yet that only served to make them more menacing. They could be anyone, anywhere.
Dove knew all too well villains and monsters didn’t look like Ancient Egyptian mummies or jackals. They looked like regular people, like the man sitting next to you on the train. Like your family friend. Like your milkman. Or your school teacher. Or the shop clerk. Or young, female gift-shoppists that had a hopeless crush on their seemingly married co-worker.
It didn’t matter who they were, what they looked like, they were tainted to their core.
“That’s a great plan, except he’s not Marc, he’s Steven,” The young girl hissed, as Harrow stared at her with a smug twinkle in his eye, holding out his rough hand to Layla.
“You couldn’t possibly understand the value of what you’re holding. Let me have that, I’ll keep it safe,” Harrow asked calmly, though it was clear with the way his focus trained on the jewel that he wasn’t quite so relaxed as he was making believe.
He was clever with his words, manipulative. Making himself seem honest and responsible to anyone who didn’t understand the scarab. But Layla did. She wasn’t like the ordinary woman Harrow took her for. She was smart beyond belief, and knew more about the legends than Arthur could ever learn from seeing into people’s souls.
“Summon the suit,” Layla ordered under her breath as they reached Steven’s shaken figure. Her almond eyes scoured around the building for the nearest way out as her younger accomplice shook her head in despair and picked at her nails with furrowed brows.
“Sorry what?” Steven asked, just as Dove had suspected. He had no clue what any of this meant.
Layla’s brown gaze cut to his, chagrin mixed with a hint of fear boiling up in her expression. “Summon the suit,” She said again, stepping closer to the man who gawked at her with a lost look.
“‘Summon the soup’? What are you saying?”
“The suit,” She said again, shoving the scarab into his chest, before turning to where Harrow was reaching for his staff. “And keep this safe,”
“So be it,” Harrow said tiredly. Deciding they were in too thick to continue this little joke of Marc’s, she reached behind her for the younger woman, dragging her towards the only available exit she saw.
Layla’s frantic brain caught sight of a flight of stairs that led to the first floor: a wide ledge that overlooked the rest of the room and had tiny archways where passageways wove into the sandstone walls, scaffolding and more of the plastic tarp scattered over and around the steps.
A quick loop around the top of the stairs took them to a second set of steps that led only to an upper ledge and a large arched hallway with natural light coming from the end of it. A fire escape maybe? An open window? Bingo.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Layla hurried, grabbing Steven on the way as one of the men lunged at her. She was quick to rip his hand off her arm, shoving him into a table so hard he went tumbling over the edge and knocking into another of his men.
Forcing Dove ahead of her, Layla directed the young girl towards the first flight of stairs, ducking around the scaffolding that lead to the first floor seemingly still mid-renovation. Steven trailed behind them quickly with a gasp as he dodged another of Harrow’s men.
Practically swinging around the railing on one hand, Dove felt her tired legs ache as she ascended quickly, the only thing keeping her from stopping being the two people behind her breathing down her neck, relying on her to keep going. The temporary staircase wobbled for a moment as the floor shook, small chunks of brick crumbling free from the delicate wall at the movement. A flash of amethyst purple light reflected around the building, filling the space with something odd; something tense that crawled up her spine, like a foreboding that cut her right through her gut.
Reaching the first level, she was quick to stop in her tracks as a man ducked out from one of the tiny corridors woven into the stone walls, and lunged for her. She felt Layla dart behind her and start scaling the second flight of stairs to the open door that hopefully spelled freedom. The man was quick enough to grab her wrists, but Steven's arm was swiftly wrapped around her waist, holding her from being thrown off the edge of the barrierless ledge.
She kicked at the man a few times, desperate for him to let her go. That is until she got one of her hands free and was able to grab him by the collar of his coat.
Remembering how tightly she had been able to grip Marc’s arm that morning, she found it unnaturally easy enough to lift the man a solid few inches off the ground, the stitches of his clothes ready to give way at his body weight. The menacing look on his face dropped when he realised with a cold slap to the face that no amount of holding onto her arms could do anything seeing as she had him scruffed and held like a little dog that was misbehaving.
He let out a sharp squeal as she threw him with ease over the edge and down the ten foot drop, not enough to kill but enough to hear a loud crack from his ribs and legs.
“How on earth did you do that?” Steven asked, his baffled breath rolling over her neck in a way that had her stomach churning up a storm. His arm still held her tight to him as he guided her the way Layla had taken off to, the warmth of his hand alone seeping through her top and onto her bare skin underneath that was still as cold as a cadaver.
His touch gave her a taste of life again, of humanity. Like she didn’t exist again in this world until he touched her. As if his hand alone could find her in the afterlife and pluck her back to mortality.
Which technically he had.
“Come on,” She brushed off his question, urging him towards where Layla was now pummeling the shit out of another assailant that had tried to make a grab for her. She made equally quick work of the attacker, shoving him off the same way the other woman had and sending him flying off the building frame and into a pile of wood that cracked easily with his weight.
Grabbing both their arms, Layla led the two stunned watchers through the open archway that luckily expanded into a long corridor. Tarp lay around the bottom of the huge windows, moonlight filtering in through the surprisingly clear glass panes being the only thing allowing them to see their way.
The three sets of footsteps pounded down the stone hallway, Harrow’s chants chasing them through an echo, spoken in Coptic the younger woman had surmised. It seemed her degree in Ancient Languages wasn’t entirely a waste. She was able to grasp at bits and pieces of what he was saying despite the rushing of blood in her ears from her running.
Something about Ammit’s wrath, eradicating enemies. Calling on the ancient goddess to help him carry out her justice.
Then came the shriek. Familiar at this point, the vengeful growl that reverberated down the hall and harmonising with Harrow’s hex.
Summoning pure evil. She caught that part easily as they skidded around the corner awaiting them at the end of the hallway, coming to a set of huge, varnished wood doors. She threw her shoulder into the left one, hearing it give a small creak of protest before it gave way and slowly swung open.
Her heart dropped as she quickly realised they were at a dead end. It felt almost de ja vu like as they entered the room, her eyes frantic to take in any way out as Layla and Steven rushed to block the entrance off. A thick, brick wall complete with an old fireplace on the right, and two huge windows in front and to her left. By all means it was a beautiful room, but it was an enclosure. A trap. A casket.
“Here. Bolt the door,” Layla ordered, heaving a metal bar through the handles to give them some sort of protection of whatever it was Harrow was conjuring.
More tarp over the floors and piles of bricks, dust and building tools, the windows reaching higher than even the ceiling to the museum. Sarcophaguses piled around the room, some fake but most seeming authentic, as ancient as the exhibits she walked past regularly at work, yet they were just thrown to the sides of the abandoned room as if they were not priceless objects.
A dirty mirror lay to her right leaning against the fireplace, white plastic wrap draped over half of the looking glass, ridden with dust and a deep crack that made it unusable, no doubt why it was dumped here with the rest of the pieces of history they deemed rubbish.
Layla and her rushed to the windows, Layla taking the one on the left and her heading for the one opposite the door, each attempting to jiggle the bottom of the panes, looking for a latch they could flick open to give them an escape. But the glass was thick. Taking up an entire wall, meant only to let light in and keep air firmly out. Meaning there was no movement from any of the panes. The lit up buildings across the street laughed at her attempts in a silent mocking, the block of flats watching the desperate women struggle.
“Oh my god,” Steven said with a tone of utter despair, “I’m going to die in an evil magician’s man cave,”
She would have laughed. Any other day and his words would have cracked her up. But she barely heard him over the desperate way she tugged at the white, chipped frames, urging the damn thing to come loose, her nails splinting painfully at the force she used to try peel the rusted metal from their seals.
It would be no use anyway, she realised. Looking down she realised they were up high, on the third floor to be exact, and the only way down was a long fall onto solid concrete. Seeing Layla turn away from the other window, she guessed she had no luck with that either, and cursed under her breath.
Layla stalked towards Steven’s piteous frame, grabbing him roughly by the arms. “No-no. Hey, listen to me,” She started in a panicked voice, though it was clear she was attempting to be kind to him. The three of them turned to the door as the sound of scratching signalled that something big was out there, waiting for them. Long, sharp knife-like claws raked down the old wood, carving out channels in the barrier, the pieces of timber creaking with the weight of it, like a dog begging to come into the sitting room.
A moment of silence, before the doors began shaking in their hinges with loud thumps. The animal threw itself against the doors, the metal bar jittering in its place at the sheer weight of it.
“Your name is Marc,” Layla said calmly, holding onto his shoulders to keep his attention on her, “There’s a suit, I’ve seen you use it. You bring it out,” Her dark eyes pierced him with something cold and scared hidden in them, as his face flustered and his breathing picked up.
“No,” He mumbled, shaking his head that dripped with sweat, feeling his chest constricting as she grabbed him harder.
“Where are you? We need you to fight!” She yelled, shaking him now as if to hope to snap him back into his senses.
“Let me in, Steven!” Marc’s voice came from the abandoned mirror, his reflection twisted into a cruel sneer as Marc watched him freeze in place, Steven’s bright eyes lost and scared.
It was too much for Steven. He was expected to be something, someone, that he had no idea existed until a few days ago. This was no longer about waking up late or funny dreams, or sand around his bed and tape on his door. This was real. Real consequences. Two very real women depending on him to become this hero and save the day.
They needed him to be Marc. But he wasn’t. He was Steven Grant. And that was all he’d ever be.
“No, I can’t please. Stop it both of you,” Steven’s voice snapped Dove out of her focus on the outside, her fingers sore with where they gripped the window frames distraughtly.
She saw his overwhelmed figure. The way Layla held him in an iron grip, her voice raising in distress as she kept asking him to snap out of it, to bring out ‘the suit’. She saw the way Steven’s eyes flicked between the woman and the mirror, his voice clogging up with unshed tears.
Finally giving up on the windows as an option, she stormed over to where the two of them stood, grabbing Steven by the shoulder and pulling his arms away from Layla’s desperate grip.
“Cut it out, you’re scaring him,” She growled, feeling Steven make a grab for her hand as she confronted the woman.
“He should be scared! If he doesn’t get the suit the three of us are going to die, do you not get that?” Layla’s voice raised, but even the younger woman could see her face was rigid with fear. It was fear causing her to be so harsh, not malice. Layla was only human after all. The memory of that thing that had chased her through the museum resurfaced painfully, a phantom stab blooming over her stomach that seemed entirely healed, as if it hadn’t practically ripped her guts through her soft flesh and spilled them onto the marble floor.
“Shouting at him isn’t going to fix that, it’s not his fault. We just find another way out, okay?” Dove snipped, shutting down any other argument Layla could give her, and turned to Steven with a soft expression, “Okay?” She asked gently.
Steven stayed quiet, but he nodded, tears welled in his eyes, his face just as scared as she felt inside. She was shitting herself, her muscles tensing up with every grunt that came from the creature on the other side of the door. But cornering Steven and asking so much of him when neither of them truly understood what was happening was only doing harm.
��Alright,” Layla mumbled in defeat, her lush brows drawn into a frown, despair lingering in her hazelnut eyes as she headed back to the smaller, side window and peered out to the building below, “I can see a fire escape on this roof-”
But no sooner had the woman come to terms with the fact there was no hero coming to save them from this mess, the barricade had given way with a loud pop as the metal bar split clean in two.
A single breath, a moment of pure silence where Layla’s head whipped from her fraught attempt at seeking an escape route, where Steven and Dove clutched onto each other just that bit tighter. The doors swung wide on their hinges, smacking into the walls with the force and crumbling the bricks into piles of red dust on the already dirty floors.
A figure stood in the entrance. She could only think to describe it as a tall man trying to wear a dog’s body. Its limbs were gangly, skinny, mottled and rotted skin stretching thinly over them. Four feet at the end of boney elbows carried dagger like claws, thin wisps of white hairs poking from its spine. Its face was that of a possessed wolf, skeletal and gaunt, its mouth opening into a roaring snarl with two yellow-green eyes staring back at them with a haunting glow.
The air escaped Dove’s lungs the second it let out a familiar hum of hunger. This was the thing that had attacked her. That had killed her last night. This was the thing that had plunged its hand into her stomach with no remorse, tearing her organs to shreds in a single swipe.
The creature, the jackal, looked ahead at the two of them, holding onto each other for damn near life, her nails digging into his toned arm at her sheer trepidation. Its jaws fell open, saliva dripping from its dead lips as it gathered its legs up and prepared to lunge.
“Jackal, J-JACKAL” Steven yelled, his hands beginning to shake as he pointed at the creature.
“Oh my god- Oh my-” His friend could barely get out her words, panic constricting around her heart that thudded through her ribs hard enough to have her choking on her sentence and stay quiet, mouth agape in disbelief at the sight of the thing.
She much preferred when she couldn’t see the damn thing.
The Jackal took a breath, and the girl set in its sights could have sworn she heard it laugh, before it bolted at them.
The two of them screamed, Steven shoving her to the floor as its lithe body made contact and sent both their bodies flying through the glass, falling, falling, falling down all three levels and onto the hard concrete.
“Oh my GOD!” Layla shrieked, her eyes trained on the huge gap in the wall where her ex-husband had been thrown through by some invisible force, before they lowered to where his not-mistress was cowering on the floor after being manhandled away from the danger. She caressed her scraped elbow silently, her gaze also locked on the broken glass.
Realising the girl was in shock, Layla leaned down to a pile of bricks, grabbing one and promptly raising it above her head, bringing it down onto the side window harshly. The glass cracked slightly, before she hit it again a few more times and it gave way completely, scattering across the tiled roof on the other side. Throwing her jacket over the broken glass, she hopped over the window ledge and onto the slanted roof, careful not to skid on the smooth stone. Whipping back to the girl that had seemed to come to her senses and was now looking at her bewildered, Layla yelled a single “Come on!” through the gap in the window, before turning and heading towards the fire escape alone.
Steven. Not Steven, please not him. Steven’s gone. Steven’s dead, or at least he will be soon, no doubt his body crumpled on the floor, practically laid out as a buffet for that monster.
He’d thrown her out of the way, given his own life for one so undeserving as her own.
A man so kind and gentle, good, shouldn’t have rescued her, someone entirely not that.
Being dragged out of her daze at Layla’s yell, her head snapped to where she’d managed to create an escape, the woman looking at her expectantly before she turned and headed towards the edge of the roof.
Steven could still be alive, she told herself, he could be okay.
Holding that hope close to her chest, she pushed herself to her feet and ran towards the exit Layla had taken.
Please be okay. Please be okay. I’ll give every life I have to give if it means you’re safe.
Her hand was seconds from gracing Layla’s jacket when she heard it. Another growl.
No, not a growl. A chuckle. Dark, deep and rolling, an amused laugh from a thick chest that was loud enough to fill the entire room with its timbre.
And she knew. She didn’t understand how, but she knew. She knew who waited for her to turn around. To meet his black, inky gaze with fright.
But she was frozen. Despite her body being cold for the past day, the chill that ran through her spine was enough to have every single one of her hairs stand on end. Her voice was gone, her chest tight, her throat closed up.
“I know you’ve been waiting for me, my little monster,”
His voice was a rumble, though a smile laced his words. His every syllable sent a thrum of horror through her veins, her body going numb. As if she weren’t here. She was watching a movie through her eyes, and the villain was coming, the story was ending. The credits were about to start rolling.
She said nothing. Didn’t dare move an inch, praying to anyone listening that she could become as invisible as that jackal had been. Yet she felt him getting closer. His feet made no sound, but she felt him draw near. The same way a person feels they’re not alone in a haunted house. Like seeing shadows in the corner of your eye. Like feeling something watching you from the darkness when you wake from a nightmare.
A hand trailed down her loose hair, running long, slim fingers through her locks, he gave a growl of praise. “I’ve been waiting for you too,”
She started crying. Her face got hot, her eyes stinging as she tried to hold the tears back, only for them to scorch her cheeks as they rolled down, her expression pulling into an ugly whimper.
Closing her eyes, she told herself if she couldn’t see him he was just a voice in her head. If she didn’t look him in the eye he had no control over her. It was just a bad dream. A side effect of the stress. An auditory halluc-
“Oh, don’t cry,” A cold knuckle dragged over her cheek, swiping away a tear. His finger alone took up half her jaw. “I’m here to help you. I’m here to save you, little beasty,” His voice was dark, but gentle. As if he cared. As if he didn’t want her afraid. “Think of what we could do to Harrow, together,”
She didn’t doubt he had ideas for what torture he wanted to rain down on the man. But that wasn’t her. She didn’t want to be feared, or to hurt people, or to kill. She didn’t want to be bad. Or to feel even more so that there was something crawling out of her soul, a demon that showed everyone just who she really was. What she really was.
“No,” She whispered, shaking her head and taking a small step away from him.
“No?” He asked, a deadly calm washing over his voice. “People have taken from you your whole life. Taken and taken for their own selfish needs,” Seth cooed, circling her with his behemoth frame as more tears flowed over her cheeks, her eyes squeezed shut with a frown, “I see your anger, your need for vengeance. To make them hurt the way they hurt you-”
“NO,” She yelled this time, her hands coming up to grab at her hair, her body giving in to his words. He knew her. He knew her like an old friend, like he knew himself. Like she knew him. Like he’d been there for every bad thing that had happened to her. Like he was there for the whole of that time, he was there that day.
That day. That body. What she’d done to him.
“You hurt, little beasty,” Seth said, coming to stand in front of her. She felt his two huge hands hold onto her shoulders, one coming to her chin to tip it up to his face.
If she opened her eyes now she’d see his sable black eyes looking down at her in an aching hunger. As if he revelled in the fact she was so pliant to his touch, that he could snap her neck within a flick of his finger and she could do nothing about it. She clamped her eyes shut harder, desperate to not fall for his gentle words, or the familiarity that came with his touch. No, he wanted this, he wanted her to concede, to trust him. To give into him.
No. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.
“I see the way you hurt. I see the fear in you that came long before I did. That they’ll all see you as I do,” He said, caressing her jaw with his sharp claws, a single ounce of pressure too much and her skin would be slashed open.
“Stop,” She begged, her face wet with tears, her throat closing with a sob that drew out her request like a child.
“Stop?” Seth’s voice was different now. The semblance of kindness that had been there in a fleeting moment was gone, replaced again with a thunderclap of a laugh, “You poor sweet morning lamb. We’ve not even begun,”
Her eyes opened for a split second when she felt her body tense up, the feeling as close to rigour mortis as she could imagine, as a dark flash of movement, a row of sharp teeth, and insidious black eyes were all she saw as he took over every part of her body.
Death took her body for the second time, though this time she felt everything.
Layla watched its jaws open as its head flicked to her, its deep grunt of annoyance echoing through the empty street, before it's long, slim arms were thrust outwards and grabbed the two of them by the jugular, boney, rough fingers wrapping around their throats and squeezing.
Steven was lifted off the ground, Layla suffering the same fate after she had thrown an empty beer bottle at the demon’s head, the tiny shards of refracted light bouncing off the glass like a mirrorball and outlining the head of a monstrous creature.
Layla felt the brick smack harshly against her spine as the thing threw her to the wall, the same way Steven was tossed against a parked car, the passenger window cracking from the pressure and the alarm wailing in protest.
They both stood up again immediately, Layla’s eyes scanning the floor for anything to use as a weapon, before her almond eyes fell on the neck of the bottle she’d thrown, the jagged edge of broken glass sharp and fatal. Diving for the shiv, she swiped at the area she thought the creature could be stood, though her attempt only proved futile as her wrist was grabbed almost too easily and the weapon was ripped out of her hands.
The woman made a sound somewhere between a yelp and a cry as she was tossed to the hard ground like a ragdoll, Steven being thrown next to her as he made a move to grab the monster as well.
The two of them gasped as the hands seemed to swipe them to the ground harshly, like a cat toying with its meal, dragging the torture out as long as possible before they gave up and submitted to being ravaged. The two of them looked at each other in alarm, Steven’s eyes a bright white behind the suit, as they felt the jackal grab their ankles and drag. Their bodies scraped against the pavement, the two of them kicking and squealing, writhing to get out of the monster's grip, only to be yanked into the air once more, the blood rushing to their skulls the second they were pulled from the concrete earth.
“Steven, do something!” Layla wailed, her cheeks pooling a purple colour the longer they were held, though she never relented in her hits, her arms and free leg waving around for any soft tissue she could get at.
“Marc’s the one who fights these shits, not me!” Steven called back, trying desperately to reach for his batons to inflict any damage he could.
Layla felt her head building with pressure, her eyes becoming painful to shut as she blinked slowly, the darkened streets turned upside down in her mind. Her thick, dark brows furrowed, her eyes locking in on a figure standing at the other end of the wide street, unrecognisable to her dazed eyesight.
“Steven?” Layla murmured drunkenly, her hand coming up to grab his arm that was still flailing around.
“What?”
“Who is that?” The woman asked, pointing to the dark silhouette that stood and watched them.
Steven’s illuminated eyes followed her finger to see the figure still with statue-like grace, silent yet never relenting their dark stare.
His eyes trailed from their body, muscled and in a wide, casual stance, their arms resting at their sides. Their entire body seemed to be in some kind of black, chestplated one piece suit, pads of armour on their vulnerable parts, thin spindles of gold wrapping around the suit in a skeletal fashion. The armour spread over the backs of their hands, opening out into golden claw-like razors at the tips of their fingers that didn’t so much as twitch with fright at the sight of two strangers suspended in the mid air.
A black muzzle wound its way over their mouth just above where the suit ended at their jaw, their hair falling over the back of their shoulders to reveal more of the golden weaves that fell around their neck and over their breastplate, accentuating the woman’s curves whilst also giving off the look they were wearing a set of bones on their armour.
Two six-inch shells of armour protruded from their headpiece, curved yet in lithe points, like long dog ears, like a Whippet’s, high and alert.
“I-I don’t know,” Steven murmured, though he found himself unable to take his eyes off the shadowed figure. He wasn’t even sure they were breathing at the way they were frozen solid, their head tilted slightly as if intrigued by the scene in front of them.
It was then that it seemed the Jackal realised they had company. But this jackal wasn’t alone. It had brought friends too.
The figure seemed to cut out of their daze as another of the behemoth beasts came stalking out of the darkness, as if to have been waiting for the scraps of the kill. But it had prey of its own now. This mystery woman.
Steven’s heart fell into his mouth, which wasn’t too hard seeing as he was still being held upside down by the creature.
“Run!” Steven called to her, though she seemed to take no notice of his cries, “Get out of here!”
But the woman stood still, head snapping to where the jackal walked forward, slowly and with a hungry grin on its face as a deep growl rumbled from deep within its chest. This thing was going to rip her to pieces, Steven thought numbly. And it was going to be all his fault for not giving the body back to Marc.
“Marc,” Steven said with a panic as the thing stepped closer to her still, her head tilting more at the sound of its approach, though that was the only inch she moved, “Marc- take the body- Marc- MARC-”
But he was too late. Steven winced as the jackal lunged towards her, jaws wide open and large enough to swallow her entire skull with one bite. He wanted to look away but his eyes couldn’t tear themselves off the scene, though he knew a blood bath was coming. He felt the bile rise already at the idea of it, though maybe that was the gravity talking.
But Steven’s heart practically stopped when his eyes caught another slight flicker of movement from the woman and he realised exactly what he was seeing.
The Jackal’s jaws were pried open, stuck in the moment the creature had leapt forward. It took Steven a second to realise the woman’s hands were the ones holding them ajar, her sharp nails latching into its snout and chin, blood already running down her hands at the sheer vigour at which she held onto the dead flesh. The beast gave a whine, its body jolting forward as it tried to overpower her, only to have no luck. She didn’t budge a single hair's width.
Steven’s eyes widened, the beams of light engrossed with the scene before his eyes. Who on earth was that? How could she see the jackals like he could, let alone wrestle one?
“Steven, give me the body,” Marc demanded from inside his head, though Steven caught the trace of nerves that rang at his voice like a church bell on a silent morning.
“Who is that, Marc?” Steven asked, his eyes widening when he saw the figure forcing the jackal to back down a step as she forced herself towards the creature, clearly stronger than the monster twice her size.
“Steven, I will explain everything later, just please give me the body or she’s gonna get hurt,” Marc said with the same edge to his voice that he had before. The way Marc dodged his question had sirens wailing in Steven’s chest, louder than anything else the American man inside him had said.
Steven’s voice cut out when he watched the figure grab the beast's jaws even tighter, yanking them apart with a sickening crunch as the joints popped out of their place. She didn’t stop there, not even as the creature gagged and squirmed, a yawp of pain echoing around the street as it scrambled to get out of her grip. But she was relentless. She tugged apart the lower mandible even wider, wider than could ever be natural, and a gut wrenching rip came next.
The creature stopped moving. Stopped crying. Stopped everything. It slumped to the ground in defeat, the woman standing over its body with no mercy as she held the wad of flesh in her hand, blood running from her fingertips as smooth as water.
The creature's lower jaw was thrown to the ground, its face a mush of exposed muscle, its throat torn cleanly open. It was then her gaze set onto the other jackal with a slow turn of her head and a low growl echoed through Steven’s bones.
It took him a second to realise it wasn’t the creature that held him that was making the sound. It was coming from her.
Layla and Steven were dropped to the ground as she approached the creature, the two of them gasping for air, their heads spinning with the blood crashing around their brains.
The jackal set its sights on her too, eager to avenge its fallen companion, the two of them circling one another for a moment. She made the first move, her black boots near silent against the cobbled street as she leapt with cat-like grace to tackle it to the ground.
She was able to get her arms around its neck as it met her in the air, her muscled arms quick to begin choking the thing, squeezing until they heard the sound of its shoulder popping out of place. The jackal gave a yelp similar to the other one, only it dragged out into an angry snarl as its huge clawed hand grabbed onto her by the scruff of her neck.
It threw her away from itself, desperate to get her strong hands off its body, and tossed her a good ten feet away, into the middle of a busy road where she bounced over the bonnet of a car and smashed its left headlight in.
Steven was quick to jump to his feet as the monster’s head flicked away from the woman, back to where he and Layla stood.
“Steven, you’re being dumb. Don’t do this, you can’t do this-” Marc protested, though Steven felt whatever bravery he had left collecting together as he clenched his hand together in a tight fist.
“I think- I think I can,” He replied, the Jackal stalking closer to him with its three good legs. It stepped forward, its confidence shaken by the woman that was now getting back up and pacing her way over to the two of them much too calmly for someone who had been thrown so harshly. “You want some more do you, you mangy, Macedonian mutt?” Steven tried to taunt, though he could feel the tinge of fear still quelling at his chest at the sheer brute size of the thing even when wounded.
The creature roared in response, gathering its hind legs up to lunge again, as Steven drew back his arm to swing.
But he was too late. The woman had returned with a silent agility. Steven saw nothing but a flash of black and gold as she dived for the jackal’s throat, clawing and snarling at its chest as she took the thing down with her in one swoop. Steven watched with an agape jaw as she lifted the creature up as if it were nothing more than a sack of grain, and threw the jackal into the same parked car already cracked from where Steven had hit it, the opposite window getting the brunt of the attack as it smashed and the door caved easily.
The creature lay still for a while, giving Steven time to confront the woman who had helped him, and hopefully answer the questions that Marc had dodged.
“Oh my god,” Steven started, approaching the woman from behind where she was stood, barely out of breath for what had just occurred, “Excuse me, who exactly are you, you’re just bloody amazing-”
Raising his hand to touch the woman's shoulder gently, Steven practically had the wind knocked out of him as she turned on her heel in less than a blink of his two white eyes, and threw him to the ground as easily as she had the creature. Kneeling over him, his body mushy underneath her sadistic strength, he felt his knees go weak as she grabbed him by his collar and brought him to her face where her eyes trailed over his own face, a horrifically deep snarl emanated from her chest, shaking his lungs with its power.
“WOAH, Woah wait. I’m not going to hurt you, though I supposed I should be more worried about you hurting me-” It was then that he actually took in what he could see of her face.
The colour of the hair that fell around her face as she leant over him, the shape of her face that wasn’t covered by the black muzzle that wrapped around her mouth and over her nose, thin and metallic and yet making her sounds all the more terrifying. Her eyes, the iris gone and replaced by inky black pits of darkness that blinked down at him with famine.
But that face. He would know that face anywhere, he would know it in the thickest of fogs, the darkest of Winters. He could find her in any crowd, in any life. And if he was to go blind by morning, he’d know her by the way she breathed alone.
And he did. Despite the fact her breath was laden with grunts, he knew her. He knew her.
“Dove?” Steven muttered, hands coming to hold her face gently, his brows furrowed with confusion, “Dove, what happened to you-”
His hand had all but brushed her cheek, a gentle action that normally would have had her preening to his touch, had her snapping at the bit, and Steven was sure she would have taken his hand clean off had she not been muzzled like a rabid dog.
Steven jumped back as she came closer to him, an even louder rumble of fury damn near bursting his ear drums as she warned him off of touching her. She was not his dove. Not the girl he knew. Not the girl he loved. She was a feral beast untamed and wild, eager to hurt him as much as she had attacked the jackal were he to get too close.
“Dove?” Steven asked one more time, though he kept his hands in surrender as she manhandled him, pushing him to the floor more as she pinned him down, her black eyes empty and raw as she stared at him, “It’s me, Steven. Your Steven,”
Nothing. He gained no reaction from her, not so much as a blink. This was not her. This was a savage creature that knew no such thing as gentle touches and loving words.
She did nothing but stare at him, waiting for him to make a move out of line so she could tear him to shreds. And yet, Steven lay there as if to submit his body to her if she wanted to do such a thing. He couldn’t hurt her, couldn’t fight back. Could never lay an unkind hand on her even if it came to his last moments on the earth. He could die by her hands and he would still consider himself lucky to have been touched by such a creature.
She raised a clawed hand up to bring down on his masked face, a strength in the hit strong enough to tear clean through the ceremonial armour and likely leave him disfigured, if not cleave his skull in two on the spot. But she didn’t get a chance to strike. No sooner had she raised herself up to end it all, the Jackal launched its beaten body at her crouching form, the two of them tumbling away from Steven’s shaking body and rolling amongst one another in a flurry of wails and growls.
She flew off him spitting and yowling like a feral street cat, a sound no normal human should make as the creature bit down on her arm hard.
Steven felt two arms dragging him upwards and away from the scene, Layla could only imagine what was going on as the mystery woman’s arm sprayed her own blood over the concrete with every swipe of her claws.
“What is that?” Layla asked breathlessly, practically yanking Steven away as he trembled under her hands. She froze when Steven said her name, her name, the name of the girl she had left in that room to make her own way out. “What? Is this Harrow’s doing? Turning her into some crazy dog-woman?”
“I don’t know,” Steven said with a defeated tone, his chest aching at the way she had looked at him with no recognition of who he was. “I think…” Steven thought for a moment, “I think Marc will know how to help her,”
Layla nodded at him, her eyes taking in his broken expression, patting him on the arm gently, “Okay. Okay, bring him out,”
Steven turned away from her, sparing a small glance to the woman who held his life so closely in her hands, who had been seconds away from ending it, who he gave himself to entirely were it to be that he saw her in his last few moments of living. She scrapped with the jackal, two wild beasts gaining on eachother, drawing blood whenever and wherever they could.
“Marc,” Steven said, his eyes never leaving her blank face, spots of blood now sprayed over her nose like freckles. He felt his alter perk up at the name, his body already tensing up as Marc clawed at the reigns to take over now.
“Yeah, buddy?” Marc asked, though he could see everything Steven was seeing, and his heart already sunk at the unrecognisable thousand mile stare she had.
This was it. Seth had her now. “Save her,”
authors note: I used an AI to create what I think Dove looks like in her suit and-
These are the vibes we’re going for! Please feel free to imagine her as ANY shape, ANY ethnicity and ANY height however, these were just what the AI generated!
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‧₊˚꒰♱꒱༘‧⊹ Zane Mystreet headcanons !!
i love this lil emo freak i NEED to get wine drunk n watch ponies w this guy
6'0 (183cm)
go white boy go
hetero. (comfortable with this label, but honestly his attraction isn't limited to cis women and he has even had crushes on femme men (he just wants to be the token hetero friend))
he mostly dresses casual emo, but sometimes my guy wants to rock a pair of demonias and a fishnet bodysuit with some heavy, pure silver chains and rings, alri
piercings,. piercings piercings piecings. no lips piercings... septum and eyebrow, though. and DEFINITELY gauges in his ears. and ABSOLUTELY ones with cute shapes.
if he didn't cover his mouth all the time, i think he would like wearing dark, cool colored lipsticks
and it'd be smudged all the time bc he keeps fuckin snacking on sweets
of course he paints his nails, and he treats them well bc he hates chipped nail polish (rich boy gets the highest quality, strongest clear nail protection youve never seen before in your life)
honestly all the ro'meave brothers are a bunch of gnc kings like okayyy!! pop off boys w your dresses, heels, skirts, n makeup!!
god can that boy sing
idc he listens to vocaloid and his favourites are vflower and rin kagamine
also listens to emo songs (ofc) and cartoon songs
prefers rock band over guitar hero
one time he smacked vylad in the back of the head with a rock band drumstick and he felt so bad he ran off and cried
boy is the most fuck-ugly crier
secretly steals stuff from people he cares about as keepsakes (like, little things: garroth's old gameboy, vylad's old sketchbook, aph's other half of a pair of lost earrings, nana's ribbons and pastry wrappers)
actually has pretty high metabolism, and one time he gloated abt it to aph and accidentally made a joke in poor taste, and she kicked his ass. so, he just lets her call him a lil fat boy as his eternal penance for being an asshole
okay this isn't a headcanon but sort of is but, why were him and dante like Tightrope-walking that fucking incel line as teenagers. like they were one wrong step from falling into an incel category. thank god their brothers would NOT have had that from their baby brothers anyway bc Wtf
anyway
honestly, he doesn't feel as cold toward vylad as he used to as a teen, and kind of wishes he had the strength to show that and reach out and ease the tension between them. but, he's afraid of making it worse by being awkward, so he wants to wait and hope that vylad makes the first move, if he ever does. (and if not, he'll probably ask garroth to do it for them)
has rejection sensitive dysphoria, made even worse by a rejection complex from: garte's blatant favouritism, bullying and rejection in school, and isolation as an adult. it's part of why he became so attached and possessive of aph. but, he's safer now
he was a harry potter kid. garroth was the percy jackson one, and vylad was warrior cats.
he always thought he was a slytherin but i think he's more of a hufflepuff than he realizes (nana on the other hand.)
he has a lot of sanrio merchandise. more than he will ever admit. his pony merchandise does outweigh it, though, of course
yes, his main comfort character and obsession lies with pinkie pie cake. but, the rainbow dash backpack Objectively fucks
you can get him to eat anything, so long as it's candied or chocolate covered. this means if you hand him one of those candied roaches, he won't think twice about gnashing down on one of those suckers
has a plushie collection of really, really soft and sweet-looking animals. and all of them have punk-like accessories (safety pin piercings, spikes, black ribbons, black laces, etc)
the only plush that doesn't have anything on it is an old brown teddy bear with garroth's faded name on the tag
likes to make snapcube sonic fandub references and will just drop random shadow, the devil, and memphis tennessee quotes
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ooo passing out candy with my boyfriend HOOK?
Fall Fluff Prompts
A few weeks before Halloween, you heard about a nearby Trunk or Treat event and asked your boyfriend Hook to go with you to pass out candy. He hesitated since he didn't want to tamper his character on TV in case anyone recognizes him. You work backstage in AEW, so you don't have to worry about that as much, but you do understand him not wanting to pass out at your own house for your own safety. Obviously, you don't want your address getting leaked and to get unexpected visitors looking for your boyfriend.
The week before Hook seemed to get a change of heart as he came home with 2 giant bags of candy. "Fuck it, let's go pass out candy next week. Maybe it will help promote the show and sell more tickets."
You smiled and hugged him, cuddling into his chest. "So you want people to know you aren't always the cold-hearted handsome devil?"
He shakes his head as he pulls back, and his hands caress your cheeks. "Only when it involves my girl."
Halloween - Trunk or Treat
You grabbed the candy from the trunk of Hook's car as he grabbed his backpack and your camping chairs before the two of you found a spot to set up and pass out candy.
You saw so many different costumes, and the kids all looked so cute happily saying Trick or Treat, asking for candy. Your bubbly personality, in contrast to Hook's, made the kids laugh. You happily engaged with the kids complimenting their costumes while Hook simply handed them candy.
That was until you saw a kid walking up with sweatpants and a hoodie with a mini FTW title belt on his shoulder. You awed and looked over at Hook to see him rummaging through his backpack. "Hey there, are you dressed as a wrestler?"
The kid beamed so excited to have someone understand the reference. "Yes! I'm the best wrestler in the world, the cold-hearted handsome devil Hook!"
At that moment, the kid's jaw dropped as Hook turned back around with his own FTW belt slung over his shoulder. "Hey dude. Nice costume. What candy do you want?"
The child was speechless for a moment before you piped up, "How about we take a few pictures, and then you can have one of everything?"
The child nodded excitedly as Hook knelt down next to him, and the child's parents saw the interaction. His mom walked over and took some pictures of her own as you took a few pictures for your memories. His dad walks over with his little sister, who is dressed like Becky Lynch with a WWE women's title around her waist.
"Well, it looks like wrestling runs in the family. I love your title, Becky!"
"Thank you, but my name is Claire."
You tried to hold in your laughter as you nodded your head. "Nice to meet you, Claire. Your brother dressed up like my boyfriend Hook. They are taking pictures now. Do you want any pictures with him?"
She nods and quickly runs over to get her own pictures with Hook before turning to ask him a question. "She's nice. Is she going to be Mrs. Hook?"
Hook smiles, following her finger pointing over to you. "Someday, she will be."
You blush as the girl asks another question, "Are you going to have kids?"
Her parents intervene as her mom rushes over to her. "Claire, we don't ask strangers questions like that."
You and Hook say goodbye to the family as they continue on through the Trunk or Treat event. You see a couple more kids dressed up as wrestlers, and by the end, Hook was smiling from ear to ear. As you place your chairs back in the trunk, you decide to ask Hook what his favorite part was. "The mini Hook and Becky family. The kids were nice, and although the girl got a little nosey, it was still pretty cute."
"So about her questions... do you want to talk about them?"
You sit down in the passenger seat as he sits in the driver's seat, and you both turn to each other. "Well, obviously, I wouldn't be living with you if I didn't expect to put a ring on your finger someday. As for the second question, I hope one day we will have mini versions of us running out."
You blushed before leaning in to kiss him. You pull back and whisper against his lips. "Well, how about we go home and practice making those babies?"
Hook perks up and quickly starts the car before driving you home and giving you his own idea of a Halloween treat.
Tags: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thesupreme316 @99hook @seeingstarks @hooks-martin @hookswifeeyy @hooksredrum @plentyoffandoms @730hook @im-just-a-mississippi-girl
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Pandoras box (Tsu'tey x reader)
chapter (1) (2) (3)
warnings for this chapter- cursing and a light bit of ooc for tsu"tey and death threats
word count- 3K
you are an artist who came to draw and record the flora and animals on pandora after your sister gets sick you are taken under the wing of the next chief of the omaticaya tribe.
this series is hopefully the beginning of many more when more movies come out. the reader is actually my own oc just with a name change. i haven't sene the second movie yet but I am very excited to see it with my boyfriend. no beta-read we die like men but did a Grammarly run through.
When the ship landed on Pandora I walked alongside a man I met on the ship, Jake. He was an ex-marine and was here to replace his brother who had been murdered by a man with a gun. I was no fighter or scientist like the others here, I was an artist. My sister was a scientist here and she had gotten into an accident that had put her out of commission since my DNA matched hers just enough they pulled me in to use her avatar, a pretty similar story to Jake except well Paige was still alive. The number of armed men and women around me was astounding and intimidating but my eyes were drawn to the huge arrows that were jammed into the wheels of a wheel loader that passed in front of us. The colors were unique with yellows and blues, an interesting combination. Jake and I were guided into the building where we were ushered to the safety meeting and after that ushered to different areas. So I found myself in Paige’s room she was hooked up to all kinds of machines that were helping her stay alive and she had deep circles under her eyes.
"You look like shit" I spoke aloud as a threw my backpack onto a chair. She snorted at me before wincing in pain.
"No shit. I feel like shit." She wheezed out to me, I walked to her side and placed a hand on hers. "Listen, kid pandora is a beautiful place but it's still dangerous when you get out there you listen to grace okay? I know you aren't ready for this but they need you to help with this mission. Your drawing skills are going to take you deep into the forest to find plants and animals. You are going to be their eyes you've got to prove that the life out there is worth something to these corporate assholes okay?"
I nodded in the affirmative, eyeing my sister with concern. A nurse came in and said I was needed in the science bay to test my avatar. Grace was eyeing me up and down, she had not talked to me as severely as she had Jake but it was clear I wasn't what she wanted.
"An artist and an ex-marine when I need two scientists who studied for years to be here. Just great." She growled as she helped us get hooked up into our coffins like machines. "Just listen to the smart people and maybe I can keep you alive. Just clear your mind and relax got it, Picasso?"
I gulped and nodded again, grace was intimidating. The lid shut, sealing me in darkness with a light blue hue around me, I steady my breathing as I stared up trying to keep myself from panicking. My eyes fluttered shut as I took deep breaths which smoothed out almost like I was falling asleep. I jolted awake. I could hear more, smell more, feel more. The scientists above me spoke as they were checking my reactions and smiling at me as I became responsive.
"Morning guys" my voice was like I hadn't spoken in days. A racket started to come from Jake's table I turned my head to see Jake ripping off the wires attached to his avatar body. "Jake? Hey, you should probably sit back- you can walk!" I looked in amazement at his legs and smiled at him. The scientist were getting things to sedate him but he was already out the door, norm and I were forced to catch up with him. Norm was shouting about us not supposed to be running but u couldn't help it. The colors around me were so much more vibrant and seemed to almost pulse with beauty to me. The smells around me were new and alluring I found myself running alongside Jake as we skidded to a stop in the garden. I admired the purple fruit growing from the vines.
"Hey, Picasso and marine. Good to see you are up and functioning well. Your motor function seems at the tip-top." Grace's voice came from her gorgeous avatar, I smiled at her.
"Everything is amazing grace" I spoke with a gleeful tone. She nodded at me in agreement as she tossed Jake a fruit that he caught and began to eat.
"Come on let's go eat." She tossed me a large sketching pad with some pencils. "Your sister said you'd need one of those."
And the first night in my avatar body went over without a hitch. Soon after a morning of relaxing, we got our first mission. Norm and grace needed samples, Jake was there to guard, and I was there to sketch out and flora I found. I sat in my avatar body looking out of the chopper as we were in flight my pack full of my art supplies and some rations if I got hungry. Jake rested a hand on my shoulder
"Nervous?" He had to speak loudly due to the noise. I nodded a bit
"A little" I looked at him the placement of his white freckles were pretty to me. "You nervous marine?" I teased him a bit and he huffed at me.
"Not at all" He shook his head as I laughed at him. I looked at my sketchpad and tore out a piece of paper handing it to him.
"Here I drew it on my first night here. You are a good muse when you aren't looking." The paper had a charcoal drawing of Jake in his avatar form chatting with others at dinner. He looked amazed as he looked over it
"Damn you've got a real knack for this stuff huh?" He folded up the paper and put it in his pocket. "Thanks for the keepsake Picasso"
We landed on the ground and grace lead us deep into the jungle. Once she and norm found their spot, I began to wander a bit looking for interesting flora which I found. It was shaped like a lily pad with more layers spiraling upwards. I crouched down and began to sketch it out as Jake looking bored found me sketching it up. He touched one of the plants only for it to shoot closed. He let out a surprised chuckle and I gasped in surprise before giggling setting my sketchbook in my bag as we touched more watching the shoot closed with a goofy sound. Jake touched one and it caused a domino effect to happen closing all the rest and showing us a creature, which looked like a cross between a rhinoceros and a hammerhead shark. The creature let out a bellow and stomped its foot towards us, as Jake took aim grace spoke up from the tree line.
"No Jake don't shoot it, its skin is too tough for the bullets to pierce you'll just piss him off" She was watching with a worried look plastered on her face.
"Well, what the fuck do I do then?" Jake whispered aggressively at her as his tail pushed me behind him.
"Just stand your ground. Don't run or he will charge"
The creature took more stomps towards us letting out another warning noise which Jake hissed back at placing an arm across me to protect me almost. The creature whimpered and suddenly ran off to its mother and Jake let out a slurry of curses at it but my ears picked up on something, a low growl. I slowly turned around to see a jaguar-type creature and let out a gasp hitting Jake's arm to make him realize.
"Grace stand our ground or run?" I spoke loudly as I kept my eyes trained on the creature.
"Definitely run!" She shouted at us and Jake took no hesitation in lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder as he ran. The creature gave chase. Jake ducked under the roots before finally, the creature ended up snagging his bag, sending us to the ground. I rolled further from him. Jake uncapped his pack from around him and slipped out of the straps as he grabbed my hand and began draining behind him as we ran, jumping over the edge into a waterfall. Somehow his hand let go of mine and I traveled further downstream. My head bonked a rock at the bottom of the river and it all went black.
When I came too I had been drug out of the water and it was nightfall. My pack was off of me and so was my knife. I sputtered up water as I coughed it all up out of my lungs. I looked around and my eyes fell on a strong na'vi man pulling my art supplies from my bag as his people stood around him except for the one that had a spear pointed at me though he seemed hesitant as I looked over my clothes I noticed jellyfish like seeds had landed all over me with a white glow surrounding them. The man looked over shocked before it turned to frustration as he growled something out in his native tongue.
"Get up" He spoke gruffly as he shoved my pack to me. "Up!" He snapped again and I quickly got to my feet.
"You speak English?" I asked in my daze and this made him more annoyed as he snapped something in his language again before he lifted my weak body onto the back of his horse as climbed on himself. I fell asleep again as he held me secure to his horse. I woke up as he threw me to the ground
"Get up" He snarled at me as two of his guards grabbed my arms as I yelped. They drug me along through a gigantic tree where I saw Jake also being held by two other guards.
"Jake!" I whisper shouted at him and he smiled seeing me
"Good to see you still kicking." A woman stood before him and the man who grabbed me stood before me both looking disgruntled. The leaders came down from the spiral speaking in their languages before the woman circled us and tasted our blood. She came to the same conclusion both times it seemed.
"What do they call you" She spoke aloud so everyone would hear.
"Uh (y/n) (l/n)" I answered her question. She smirked a bit
"Well (y/n) why should we keep you and jakesully alive? What is your purpose?"
"I am an artist, I'm not a scientist or warrior like Jake. I am simply here to appreciate the beauty of your home and to try to get the Sky people to understand your home is beautiful and should not be harmed. My tribe is broken all that is left is my sister and me. Please I'm all my sister has left."
She nodded a bit at my story and gave Jake time to give his speech which all the na'vi seemed to enjoy except for the two in front of us.
"Very well. Tsu'tey you will train the girl in the ways of our people as you found her and Neytiri will take Jake and do the same"
They both pitched a fit but knew it was already spoken. Tsu'tey eyed me before grabbing my arm and dragging me up the spiral to an area of hammocks.
"Tomorrow you learn. Tonight we rest" He jumped into a hammock and touched the side of it and it closed around him. I slowly entered mine with a lot more fear and did the same and slowly sleep consumed me. And I awoke to Norm lightly slapping my face saying my name over and over again
"She's back with us!" He shouted over to grace as she pulled Jake from his station. Norm eyed me as he helped me up "where were you?"
"Their home"
The next day was full of people looking at Jake and me. We had achieved what many of them could only hope to do so on a miracle. Paige was proud and also a little annoyed at my lack of self-preservation. Paige made me practice the names of the na'vi royalty.
"Tsu'tey is the one who is training me. He's pretty rough but I think we can work out"
I spoke to grace, norm was glaring at Jake they had been arguing. Norm was upset that jake with no training or knowledge was the one to get in good with the clan princess. Grace helped me into my pod and gave me a nod
"Be careful Picasso. Tsu'tey could loose his temper on you and that would screw everything up" and she shut the lid before giving me a moment to speak.
My eyes shut and I drifted back to my avatar body. I jolted up and Tsu'tey seemed annoyed that he had to wait.
"Today we practice your riding skills." He stood up and began to walk away giving me yet again no time to talk.
"Wait up!" I quickly clamored out of the hammocks. Tsu'tey whipped around, teeth bared at me.
"No. You will do things quickly otherwise you will die and if you die my job is over." I put my hands up defensively as he snarled at me towering over me.
"Okay okay. I understand I'll keep up" He nodded a bit grunting at me before turning around and continuing on his path.
Eventually, grace moved us up to the floating mountains to continue our work in peace. Working with Tsu'tey was hard, Jake often said he seemed to run me harder than Neytiri ran him but I could see the change I'm myself. I had toned up, the soles of my feet were stronger and I could run faster and longer. I could shoot a clean kill but mostly I could see how proud Tsu'tey became. At first, he hated me just like he hated Jake then it turned into simple distrust and now we had a good friendship if I had to say. He still hated Jake though not much I could do to fix that.
As I pulled the bowstring back with my arrow lined up I released a breath before letting go of it piercing my prey I quickly hopped down to finish the job whispering the prayer to my fallen prey as I stabbed it cleanly. Tsu'tey watched silently
"Good. A good clean kill tomorrow you shall participate in Tsaheylu" He grabbed my bicep giving it a gentle squeeze of approval which made me smile at him, I saw the faintest glimpse of a smile on his cheeks before it disappeared. I walked alongside him now no longer at his back, he would hiss or growl at me before but now he welcomed it.
"You know tsu' I think you might be warming up to me" I teased him lightly flicking his tail with my own. He scowled at me.
"Do not call me that" He huffed at me before turning his gaze back to the path.
"You didn't deny it" I spoke with a smile and a hand pushed me to the side as he let out a "psh" noise.
"You are annoying. Like a bug" as I was about to defend myself he continued "but you are fast and sharp like poison. You are like Kali'weya"
I was touched by his words And bumped him with my shoulder.
"Don't get soft on me now Tsu'tey" I teased lightly as we walked side by side back to hometree.
"You are gonna be participating in tsaheylu tomorrow. You need to be prepared, lucky for you kid, that your sister wrote the book about tsaheylu. I suggest giving her a call" Grace spoke up as I was eating my food and I gave her a nod. I had met Tsu'tey's banshee. They were a gorgeous blue color with yellow eyes. They were rather gentle with me which seemed to surprise Tsu'tey.
I clicked the button on the screen as my sister answered my call she gave me a weak smile to me.
"Hey, squirt. I heard you are about to get a new friend. Let's talk" Paige explained the details of tsaheylu to me in depth to the point where my nerves were amplified but by excitement as well. As I followed Tsu'tey up the floating mountains I didn't look down once until I had to jump from one to a vine which I did rather poorly making Jake snort before he failed worse than me. The cave was beautiful. Jake and Neytiri went first and then Tsu'tey and myself followed with his other students behind us.
We watched Jake try and find his banshee but I was watching Tsu'tey a smirk was plastered on his face as he watched Jake fail. "He is going to die trying this" he muttered to his students making them giggle his eyes caught on me as and looked at him with a glare before turning back to Jake
"Come on soldier you can do better than that can't you!?" Jake flipped me off as he made the bond and began his flight. I was next I stepped down from the rock and grabbed my rope, walking forward the banshee hissed and would fly away til I found her. She was lavender with golden markings and grey eyes she hissed at me which was a hiss I returned she bared her teeth before trying to take a bite out of my leg which I narrowly avoided. I hopped on her back locking my legs around her snout and keeping it shut as I struggled her to the ground as Tsu'tey trained me for. She thrashed under me until I connected my braid to her neural link on the back of her head. The feeling of linking with another creature was hard to explain every time it was amazing though.
"Fly Kali'weya. It completes the bond you must fly" Tsu'tey shouted to me from the rock and I did just that. Gliding through the air I found I was able to control her rather well and so I named her, Ome. The team took flight together once we all had our banshee as Jake and Neytiri played. I could see Tsu'teys approval in the gaze he gave me. Tsu'tey and I began to fly together from then on.
.
.
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Part two
#tsu'tey#avatar#jake sully#avatar 2009#neytiri#enemies to friends to lovers#alien lover#cat boy#blue people movie#future smut#fluff#angst with a hopeful ending#chapter 1#tsu'tey x reader
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Intro to Scouting for Nancy Drew Fans
i love to see Ace's Eagle Scout status come up in fics. Although it was almost a throw-away line, I think it informs Ace's character and fleshes out his backstory well, beyond just knowing knots and navigating the woods. But I see a lot of awkward phrasing, and I see a lot of missed opportunities to bring it up, and it got me wondering if a little primer would be helpful.
Things Ace could say: "I learned this in Boy Scouts." "My troop leader took us out here all the time." "This trail didn't go this way back when I was in Scouts." "Don't worry, they love me here--my eagle project was to clean up this beach." "Don't talk to me about Jared Spriggs-- I'll never forgive him for what he did to my derby car when I was 14."
Eagle Scout is a rank and an honor that he achieved, not a program he was in. The program is Boy Scouts of America (BSA). People familiar with the program will just say Boy Scouts or Scouts. After 100 years of only allowing boys to participate, the program became co-ed in 2019, so it's now called Scouts BSA, not Boy Scouts. Ace would have grown up in the program before then since he turned 18 in 2016.
If Ace started in scouting before he was 11, he would have been in Cub Scouts. At 11, he could move up to the scouting troop. There are ranks in scouting, tied to the number of merit badges you've earned. Eagle Scout is the top rank and must be achieved before the age of 18. It involves a certain number of merit badges, hours of volunteer work, and a main Eagle Scout Service Project that they must plan and execute themselves (with assistance from scout leaders and parents).
I think it highly likely that the Captain was a troop leader or otherwise involved in scouting, especially before his accident. I can see his mom stepping in as well- if I remember right, women could be pack leaders even before 2016.
Although most people work toward Eagle as 16-17 year olds, it's possible to achieve it earlier, especially if you're smart and committed like Ace. So his pot-smoking days could come after he earned Eagle and lost interest in Scouts, or they could coexist. Your call.
Although people assume scouting is about wilderness preparedness, the program's goal is to create well-rounded, responsible citizens. Ace would have the Oath and Law memorized.
Scout Oath
On my honor I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country
and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong,
mentally awake, and morally straight.
Scout Law
A Scout is: Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, Reverent
As you can guess, being Jewish might have been tricky for Ace in a program that's culturally Christian as many 20th century American institutions are. That'd also depend on what his troop was like--was there one troop for the whole town, or maybe his synagogue hosted a troop?
There's a Sea Scouts program. Where I'm from is landlocked so I don't know anything about it, but Horseshoe Bay or a nearby bigger town would definitely have Sea Scouting!
Lastly, here are the current Merit Badge categories: it covers a lot more than knots! Ace often gets into hacking in pre-series fics by hanging out at the library with his mom after school. But what if he was introduced to programming in Scouts? And I'm sure Florence helped him complete many merit badges.
Automotive Maintenance
Backpacking
Bird Study
Camping
Canoeing
Chemistry
Coin Collecting
Cooking
Digital Technology
Engineering
Fire Safety
First Aid
Fly-Fishing
Golf
Indian Lore
Insect Study
Journalism
Law
Mining in Society
Nuclear Science
Photography
Plant Science
Programming
Radio
Safety
Scouting Heritage
Skating (I know we never see him on a skateboard but come on)
Surveying
Sustainability
Swimming (the way Ace is built heavier in top looks like a competitive swimming shape in my experience!)
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introducing one of the most important players in the IRIS mercenary group:
The Sanitars
these brave men and women are the ones reaponsible for the sanitization and order of the facility and the labs in it.
fun fact: alongside being a PMC IRIS used to be a scientific research facility and thus has many old labs filled with old equippment and dangerous things that need to be safely cleaned and sorted to prepare for repurposing and further use.
that's what the sanitars do!
equipped with anti radiation suits, handy tool belts and sometimes special backpacks they gather and safely dispose of dangerous or broken aparatuses and substances that may harm personel and guests. they also act as janitorial staff
they asist in the medical wing and upper labs disposing of biohazards and bodies failed experiments and the like. they may also be called in to assist after talks with any captured enemy soldiers to keep the areas clean and ready for the next talk.
when employing sanitars IRIS usually looked for people of robust build, cqpable of handling heavy workloads and unruly patients in case the doctors and nurses needed a helping hand. some question whether the sanitars are even human since nobody has ever seen their faces and they all look exactly the same. but that's just hearsay and rumors IRIS employs many different people of all backgrounds and the sanitars are no different.
just like any other member of IRIS staff these important players need to be treated with respect as they are responsible for the cleanlyness and safety of the work environment. it would be unfortunate to run into some nasty hazard while here so for you safe stay in the IRIS BlackPoint facilities and a fruitfull alliance please be cordial with the custodians and don't interfere with their work
we wouldn't want any accidents :-)
@the-whispers-of-death @yellow-stars @izak-gov @fishsinsareacknowledged
#my post#art#cod oc#traditional art#call of duty#my art#cod#IRIS PMC#BlackPoint PMC#BlackPoint corp.#oc lore#lore
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It's time for the end of season 2- The Deep Dive Caper!
What an absolutely showstopping finale!! I'm so thrilled to liveblog it. This episode gets serious like no other episode really does before or since. Lets get started!
Late, as usual. Buy a lottery ticket the day I do one of these on time. Notes under the cut as always!
right off the bat this episode is pretty much unlike any other. they try to have a caper setup- the vile drive- but it's not long before we realize that EVERYTHING is gone. even in the last finale the sort of "caper" of the episode was rescuing devineaux. this episode is all about answers.
"all on my own. the only sure way i know." hrnnrgh carmen
their boat is being so nice and stationary in the middle of a raging storm and waves taller than they are
"MY FIST IS GOING TO MAKE YOUR GUTS EXPLODE" ivy never change
its ALLL GONE
rip vile island we hardly knew ye
the cs team is just showing off their background artists 😌
ah would you like some mashed shadowsan with your steak
maelstrom your plan sucked babygirl sorry. should have sic'd brunt on her on the train like a rottweiler
interesting plan though. if shadowsan really had killed dexter, what would carmen have done? beat him up? sent him to acme? just thrown him out? she promises to hunt him down if he runs but like what were you going to do after that? murder for a murder?
malestrom: maybe she'll show up in botswana ✨ carmen who's been out for the count for half a year and has no reason to have even shown up in botswana as early as she did:
the teddy bear <3
in love with cleo's boob straps. that safety harness does not even clip in the front its like if a backpack was securing you to a car
that explosion animation is so good though its so impactful
its a damn good thing devineaux showed up when he did he could have been blown to the gates of hell in one second flat and no one would have been any the wiser
chase drinks so much disrespect women juice the first two seasons that he blames julia for an impression of her that his own mind dreamed up i love him for that
angry carmen is so babygirl to me. go bestie show emotion. get so mad about that shit
mmm and theres the shot i used for our title card! and what a fantastic one it is. shadowsan's motif playing in the background as carmen pauses at the oni, but the show itself telling us that he is still on her side with that gigantic, massive symbol of him framing carmen in a circle of red. if you pay attention and learn the colors the team likes, you don't even have to worry about this ep its all cool
you know what the dominant color in this entire scene of carmen trying to find out the truth is, though? blue. even when she's in the server room or staring at shadowsan's oni, the water isnt tinted green like they easily could have made it. its. all. blue.
obsessed with how zack wakes up he's being exorcised and the demon was the peppers and onions
agree it would have been hilarious if devineaux finally gets rescued and it turns out to be a really, really pissed off carmen sandiego
roundabout has the air of a theater kid who always got the leads but had to act surprised about it
evil ihop
i love how confused roundy looks its so funny
devineaux stabbing himself and the scream makes me cry laughing every single time
devineaux really goes ↘️↗️↘️↘️↘️↘️↘️↘️↘️
i would watch a series about devineaux being left to fend for himself on the island and slowly losing his mind
his supervisor was so excited about firing him
okay here we go it all gets real now
carmens realization going from my dad was a cop -> my dad was literally the exact opposite of a cop and neither of those things being things she is happy about
i love the realization hitting her face (even if it was animated. a touch blandly)
shadowsan's face s just animated fantastically here. his eyebrows are up- he realizes carmen is there, maybe confused about why she isnt saying anything. then his eyebrows drop, his face falls ever so slightly. he knows the jig is up
also. yes. "your silence is like thunder" is just. ough its such a good line
he isn't even surprised by the question he knew it was coming eventually
"if you run, I will find you." its not a threat its a damn promise. for older viewers its easy to draw the connection between the famous i will find you and i will kill you. it doesnt have to be said.
mm and carmen rejecting the offer to sit and be comfortable around him. she just can't
even in the flashbacks your can see so much of carmen in him its so great. its dishonorable, and everything carmen stands against, but she is undeniably her father's daughter
the plot for this flashback is so sophisticated its so so good. they treat the audience really well about it
also young faculty designs <3
the red on the inside of dexter's jacket to symbolize his secret with carmen im sobbing
also the decision to make carmen have his eyes is. hrngh.
already been pointed out but the way the music softens when shadowsan says "you" HURTS
THAT BABY IS A SNITCH. carmen. snitchdiego
the heartbreak when present carmen speaks again gfgrgh
i like the new mask he hangs behind him before carmen confronts him, by the way. its green and white- the shadow of vile and his past looming over his shoulder, maybe- but also the mask of vile he had to put on to lie about what really happened to wolfe
BABY CARMEN CRYING AS DEXTER TRIES TO HIDE HER :(((
the dolls rdhg im not crying you are
anyone have any thoughts on a dexter voice claim btw?
also also i sprang this on rueitae already but "dexter" while referring to dexterity and his skill as a thief can also mean "the one who dyes" which. jesus. it refers to dying cloth but the double meaning is ouchie
he locks her in gay baby jail!!!
i gotta stop making jokes about the most serious part of the entire series sorry
there's a little bit of a pink panther hint to his theme as he sneaks out the window which is interesting
rue's also already covered it but what WAS this man's plan for just leaving baby carm in there. like shadowsan says desperation i guess
god young chief shooting and killing an unarmed dexter wolfe and presumably orphaning her is the twist. of a fucking lifetime
the despair in the music cue when it reveals it was only his car keys
the matryoshka dolls getting burned in that fire ahrhgfrdshgsghds
love that shadowsan not only sets the house on fire while he and a baby are still in it but gives said baby an object that just got set on fire
also vile protocol dictating that he should have just burned a baby alive?? what the fuck!
bellum's apathy, mael's mild interest/concern, and cleo's disgust towards baby carm shdfjads
little tiny baby carmen shunting her butt at cleo is hilarious
faculty: omg she's a real natural thief she stole that thing without anyone noticing baby carmen in broad daylight five seconds earlier:
btw bb carm is so cute she's so round
carmen finally just sliding to the floor under the weight of all of that information. now that she has at least the idea that shadowsan was not the one who murdered her father, even if she still needs proof
"why would you make me find out on my own?" is one of the most heartbreaking lines in here. she had to go through this realization almost completely alone. her trust in the man she was coming to see as a father was shattered and he could have just told her. he could have just told her
ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shadowsan crying theyre so family
you can just hear the regret and fear and sadness in his voice paul nakauchi is literally so good
REAL CHIEF!
COMMANDER!!!! oh shittt i missed the one and only canon commander caturday rip...
ivy violently hitting the cash register is a mood
the little reveal even in the music as it pans to ivy in the starbucks uniform
chief nailed the good natured but a little exasperated "hmm" when dealing with people who have no idea what they are doing
ivys little look as she sees carmen walk in. the smile drop off her face as she walks away
carmen's theme ahrugdhjdsg the music in this show is so good
what is her hand doing
oh chief no honey
the deadpan "i wouldnt drink it"
i love the little nod/head bow thing of acknowledgement of carmen's efforts
the sinister music as carmen ever so casually pulls off her little trick is GREAT
i didnt know chief could open doors 🤨
congrats on being gay agent argent you did it again
player hack chief so bad the logo goes off of the screen
"somethings wrong" yeah no shit julia
chiefs oh shit face is so funny shes like aohhhhhhhhhhhh noooooooooooooooooo
little guy
im so mature
we love digging up graves
that dawning apprehension on carm's face as she realizes there's a chance she might be about to see the decayed corpse of her twenty-years-dead mom in there
carlotta being modelled after old carmen was a cool choice. lots of fan theories about old carm being her mom this day 🫡
"are you with me?" "to the end of the line." grgfhgjhsdhjsgds im shaking them violently in my teeth if i ever got a cs quote tattoo or something it would probably be that line
the only thing i dislike about this cliffhanger is that in s3 they kind of try to deliver on this big wide promise that this finale gave us and then give up until the last episode of the entire series. like. isk. i feel like they should have either gone harder on the carlotta mystery or left it alone although they did leave me the opportunity to write a 66 thousand word fic series on the concept so i guess i cant complain
half clean shaven half very unshaved chase is so funny its cursed. he shouldnt have no hair but he shouldnt have that much worst of both worlds
devineaux's theme mixing in with that iconic action/danger soundtrack as he grins devilishly is just fantastic shit
chief waiting for a response as chase just silently smirks into the mirror
anyway GOODNESS GRACIOUS i cannot believe we're already through season 2????? what???? tis the end of my favorite season :( but s3/4 are nothing to sneeze at, either!! im super excited to get into more. (plus tsonts? are we doing that?)
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Pls help this is very urgent, I don't feel comfortable nor feel safe going to either women or men's lockeroom can I like find some way around that like use the nurses bathroom or aomwthing??
Lee says:
When I was in high school, I brought my clothes with me and changed in the regular bathrooms instead of the open changing area in the gym locker room.
You may have to keep your PE clothing and sneakers in your locker room locker if you don’t have room for them in your normal hallway locker or backpack, which would mean you’d have to enter the locker room, get your items, and then leave.
So if you don’t think it’ll get you in trouble, just get your clothes from wherever they’re stored and then change in the nearest bathroom without even asking the teacher.
If your school has a gender neutral bathroom, you might have better luck changing in there, even if it’s a bit further away than the nearest gendered bathroom is.
But if you’re out as trans, you could explain that you’ll need privacy to your gym teacher, and ask them to be allowed to change elsewhere, like in the nurse’s office bathroom, and that way you can get informal permission to not change in the locker room and won’t be marked as late.
If you don’t want to out yourself, you can tell your teacher that you have anxiety about changing in the gendered locker rooms and not mention the trans thing at all.
If you don’t think your teacher would be open to making informal accommodations for you, or you asked your teacher and they said no, speak to the guidance councilor or whatever school official is in charge of creating formal accommodation plans and see if you’re able to persuade them.
Whether you reach out to a trusted teacher, school counselor, or administrator, explain your concerns about using the gender-specific locker rooms and express your need for a safe alternative. Make sure you explain why you feel unsafe in detail and provide any examples of incidents that would support your concerns. They're more likely to respond if it's presented as a safety issue (and you said it was!) instead of just a personal preference.
If you do go to the top and ask a school official, you an also ask if there are any single-occupancy staff restrooms that you could use. That isn't ideal for you or the school but you can always ask!
Sometimes, having a written request can make the process more formal and may be taken more seriously. It also provides a record of your request, so if you are talking to school officials get everything on paper or in email.
If your parents are supportive, they can back you up and write a note to help excuse you. When you speak with them about this issue, be clear about why the current situation is not working for you and what would make you feel safer because they might not realize how important it is to you.
If even a parent's note doesn't help, familiarize yourself with any non-discrimination policies your school or workplace may have. Many institutions in liberal-leaning have policies in place to accommodate individuals who do not feel comfortable in gender-specific spaces, so you may be able to point at a policy and get backup that way.
And depending on your location, there may be laws that protect your right to safe and comfortable accommodations. Knowing these can help when discussing your needs with officials.
It's also important to know if a law isn't in your favor because then you will have more success just doing it instead of asking because if the school gives you permission they may get in trouble so they might be trying to avoid that. Organizations like the ACLU or local LGBTQ+ advocacy groups can sometimes provide guidance or intervene in situations where individuals are being denied reasonable accommodations, but that can be hard to do if you have unsupportive parents.
Remember, your comfort and safety are paramount, and you have the right to access facilities where you feel secure. Don't hesitate to advocate for yourself, and seek out allies like other trans people at your school or members of the GSA club who can support you through this process. They may have experience with similar situations and can offer advice or advocate on your behalf.
If you have a supportive friend who will stand up for you and come to the bathroom with you or change together with you in the locker room, that can be a great way to plan for your safety until you're able to access alternative facilities. I would honestly consider that to be your first step to help you stay safe while you work everything out.
Finally, it's clear that situations like these can be stressful! Consider speaking with a school counselor (keeping in mind the requirements of mandated reporting) or a therapist for support.
Followers, any tips for anon?
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They didn't know we were seeds
Chapter 17
Cw: grief, mentions of substance abuse, anxiety, suicidial thoughts
@justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings
Jack is a man on a mission.
He has packed all ne should need, he has a good guide and a peacekeeper’s uniform and a badge that should get him all the way to 12.
His beard is gone as part of Peacekeeper regulations, he has adopted a more Capitol-like accent to sell the lie he is a nobody from there and he has enough time to make it back home without anyone suspecting where he went.
His mother will assume he is with Eva, Eva will assume he is at his cabin, and he’ll be back home before they know it. He just needs to meet with their contacts and know how far he can get before 13 picks them up and takes them. It’s over a thousand miles and it would take a month or so to get there on foot if they managed to get there at all.
But the fake passes and the uniforms he’s stolen could allow more people to leave. Adults and some teenagers could do it. Tall girls and boys could make it to safety, but small children and women too far along wouldn’t.
Unless he could smuggle them in containers.
The train ride to 12 is expected to take about two days at the most, 6 to 10 hours if it’s on the newer trains used for government officials and those hosting the Reapings.
It would be a tight fit and risk far too much, but maybe a sedative in Laurie’s juice could have him asleep in a crate until they leave 12 and walk the rest of the way. They could do it, they have to before it takes more people he loves.
“Give the baby a kiss for me.” His mother fastens the straps on his backpack he’s taken to hide some last-minute things.
“I will, mom. Tell Katie that Eva doesn’t have a phone in her farmhouse, so she won’t answer any of her calls while we are there.” He hates lying to her, but he has to do this.
It was the only way.
Jack Nelson leaves his cabin as Sejanus, some rank-and-file peacekeeper assigned to 12.
“Where to, Sergeant?” the Officer checking the papers asks,
“12, under Head Peacekeeper Cray’s command, sir.”
Eva knows something is wrong when Jack doesn’t come.
“Daddy?” Laurie asks, pointing at the clearing that Jack always comes from because it makes it look like he is coming from a path that leads to a neighboring farm some miles out and not 2. Even their toddler knows something is wrong.
“He’s not coming, baby.”
He never misses the first week after the Games end. He always comes home and stays the week with her because there’s no work to be done on her farm and no one will notice he is gone beyond his mother and sister.
But it’s two days into the week and he has yet to show up.
Eva has no telephone here and spends the rest of the week in a state of anxiety waiting for Jack to come and tell her she was worrying for nothing. It takes her everything to pretend everything is fine for her baby son and she prays that he is not dead.
Jack had been in a terrible state when they left, reeking of booze and high on pills to numb himself. He hadn’t even remembered the train ride to 2 according to Katie who had called her to let her know she and their mother were taking care of him.
Their last call had worried her.
“I don’t know if I’ll get better.” He had unburdened himself completely to avoid taking up old habits and something told her that it had failed.
“You will, just as I did, and everyone here has.” She had reassured him as she kept him from hurting himself even more. “You can’t leave me, Jack. I forbid you.”
If he dies, she dies.
The Victor knows in her heart that she could never survive a world without him.
On the fourth day, someone comes and its not Jack. It is his mother who knows Jack as well as Eva does.
“I had hoped he was here.” She takes the whiskey Jack smuggled out of his district and pours it into her tea. Tea was not enough to calm Atia and Eva would do the same if she could. “I knew he was lying to me the second he began packing, but I thought he was just being cautious.”
“Did you ask Lyme?” Eva paces to keep herself from losing her mind in worry.
“She’s in 11 with her girlfriend, her father hasn’t seen Jack. No one has seen him, and I wanted him to be here and tell me I was being ridiculous, and he is fine.” The red-haired woman bites her nail trying to keep it together, but her mother’s heart cannot be hidden. “Oh, my poor rabbit!”
Eva knows what they do to those who run.
She’s seen how they kill and torture them, how difficult it is to leave one district.
And it is then the young mother and wife knows where he went.
Her husband had told her how he gets deserters to 13. A uniform and a fake badge and train to 12 where one of Shelby’s Contacts, a man by the name of Johnny Dogs leads them out to the ruins of 13.
“I know where he is. 13. He has been helping deserters escape Panem.”
He is able to leave the District with far too much ease.
Something is going to go wrong. He feels it in his gut as he changes into plain Coalminer’s getup in some derelict hut in the Seam.
“I can go with you, you won’t even know I am there, Johnny.” The young man, a grey eyed rebel by the name of Gale, begs with the ringleader who shook his head.
“And what will I tell your mom when you are killed or worse, boy?” the short and strange man ---a Covey man going by the way he acts--- was adamant that he turns back when they get to the lake.
“Can you use a bow?” the young man asks the career.
If they knew who he was, they made no mention of it, but for plausible deniability, Jack doesn’t say who he truly is. They wouldn’t help him if they knew.
“Since I turned ten, why do you ask?” Jack no longer feels any pride in how he was raised and yet it is that training that kept him alive and makes him invaluable to the rebellion.
“Just asking, you won your games with a sword.” The sixteen-year-old boy shows how bright he is by revealing to all who is the man wanting to know the way to 13.
“If I’d known the hell I’d live after, I would’ve let Juno kill me.” The victor says to Gale’s honest surprise.
“Tell me how you won, my name’s gonna be in the bowl forty times next year. I have to know in case I---” even the sullen and strong kid as tall as him cannot even bring himself to say it.
“It won’t come to that, not if you do as I say.”
Gale Hawthrone doesn’t turn back as he promised, and Jack makes sure the boy stays on the right path the entire time. When he does finally stop following, Jack and his group are greeted by a man named Boggs.
“Do you think we could get a kid here safely?” Jack asks Johnny and Boggs as they do the trade off and give Jack new orders.
He isn’t Iacobus Nelson here, he is Private Jack Nelson, another new soldier for District 13.
By the time he gets home, to Eva and his mother waiting anxiously on the porch, he and Gale have devised a way to get their families away from Panem should they need to leave without Johnny.
The last of his days with Eva and Laurie are spent planning an escape for all of them. Jack Nelson won’t let his family die while Plutarch wastes their time waiting for something that doesn’t exist.
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The Adult Baby Adoption Part 1
(This story is complete fiction and although i may desperately wish it isn’t, there is no fact or real world experience behind this story. Also non of the images belong to me)
Having been single pretty much my entire adult life I’d never really had the chance to feel love or to be intimate with anyone and well with all my submissive kinks it was hard to get to know women well enough to date them. So after years of trying and the use of countless non kink sites to meet someone I stumbled apon a site which would change my life.
Miss Harrington’s Adult Baby and Little Space Adoption Agency! I couldn’t believe what i’d found, reading through the main information page 📄 it said: “Welcome one and all to Miss Harrington’s Adult Baby and Little Space Adoption Agency! Here at the agency we like to do thinks proper! In our mission we look to match Adult baby’s with Parents who suit their needs and desires! How do we do this? Glad you asked! Here at the agency we check both Parent and child candidates thoroughly to ensure the best possible match ups. Parents are subjected to several important tests to ensure the safety of adult babies at all costs, firstly their Police and criminal record checked to ensure they present no mortal threat to baby, then they are screened for any illegal drugs to ensure they do not break the law in secret and they are also credit and financially checked to ensure they can support your adoption! Once a Parent has passed these tests your safety is so guaranteed that you will sign a contract agreeing to behave and follow their instructions as their child! However before your matched both sides will answer a kink survey who’s results are then used too match you perfectly too the right parent or baby! Miss Harrington’s has been over 95% successful and for the low fee of only £200 pounds today! You could be a happy baby for the rest of your life!”
The excitement rushed through me as in an almost trance like state I scrambled to pay for and take the kink survey. Answering each question I began building a picture of the type of little sissy baby i was, eventually after excitedly blasting through the questions I arrived at the contract. “I ________ Do agree too give complete control of myself and my choices too the party in this contract known as Parent. I consent too Parent deciding all of my decisions for me and here In promise too stay with and obey Parent”. With shaking hands I signed the contract and felt a rush of excitement knowing that I’d just agreed to do whatever mommy said!
However weeks would pass having heard nothing and i began to believe even in the kink world i wasn’t wanted, until one faithful Sunday morning when i received an email 📧. “Dear Baby, CONGRATULATIONS!!! You’ve been adopted!! Below you’ll find an address, tomorrow morning head to that address to begin your new life as the baby you truly are! Do not worry about your Job, we have already contacted them under the guise of being your Doctor and gotten you 9 months Paid Stress leave so go now and settle in to your new home and get to know the parent who’s been chosen for you! Congratulations again baby and remember…. Follow your contract is all you’ve got to do!”. I couldn’t believe it! Shock and excitement rushed through me like a torrent to such a point i grabbed my Stuffed Stitch teddy and began crying in pure ecstasy into it.
The next morning I awoke and packed a backpack, stuffing it with food, a sleepingbag, comic books and Stitch i would put on my most little space clothing and set off. To my surprise the address was in the heart of London (quite the journey from my west coast of Scotland home), so off i went for the train. Getting sat on the train i knew there was a 4 and a half hour journey ahead of me so pulling out my sleeping bag i got myself all cosy inside and watched longingly out the window thinking about my new mommy! Was she pretty? Would she want a sexual relationship with me? What did she do as a job? Was she rich? Was i the only baby she’d adopted? So many questions rushed through my head as i watched the world go by. Truth be told as a bit of a of a childish move I deliberately decided to drink as much as possible on the train and held it so that the first diaper mommy put me in would be soaked.
Finally after 4 hours and 38 minutes the train pulled into London station, getting out of my sleeping bag i would pack up and get off the train. Then following google maps i would proceed too walk with my fit to burst bladder sloshing as i went, walking for a solid 20 minutes I finally arrived at a huge High end apartment building, stepping inside a security guard took one look at me and said “you must be ‘Baby’, take the lift to the top floor and knock the door… penthouse is expecting you” to which I stuttered and stammered as i replied “oh… uhm… ehm…. Yes… uhm… thanks you sir” and at that i headed across the lobby too the lift. Entering i road the lift to the top floor, when the doors opened i was met by a short hallway with one large and imposing door about 8 feet in front of me. Taking Stitch out of my bag i cuddled him in front of my chest, walking up to the door i stood before it looking the image of a pathetic little boy, cuddling my stuffy while wearing my dungaree’s, a long sleeve tshirt covered in little dinosaurs, a blue shin length puffer jacket, a blue woolly head, blue wooly gloves and a pair of blue earmuffs. Reaching up i knocked the door and the excitement of being this close to meeting mommy was making it really hard not to pee myself.
Then suddenly the door opened, there stood a man easily about 6 and a half feet tall, Muscular, arms covered in tattoos, grey hair suggesting he was older but perfectly cut and styled and him dressed very businessman like. In utter fear and shock my body gave up and seeing this man answer the door I instantly let go, pissing myself on the spot. “AWWWWWW~ hello there baby! Im so glad you finally made it!! Come give Daddy a hug” the man said as he pulled my head into his chest and began hugging me. All i could feel was the now warm and growing patch of piss on the crotch of my dungarees. Letting go the man looked at me and as he saw the piss stain chuckled as he said “ahhh now i see why baby wanted to be adopted, cause your still to little to use the bathroom! Well come in baby and we’ll get you changed out of that wet stuff. Taking me by the wrist the man lead me inside where before i knew what was happening he’d stripped me naked and sat me on a little pink plastic chair across from his sofa.
“Uhm…. I’m… uhm really sorry sir but I…. Uhm…. I think theres been an uhm… Mixup” i said as i watch the man fling my clothes into a laundry basket and walk back over too me. Sitting on the sofa and looking directly at me he asked “oh? How so baby? Are you James ******?” To which I responded, “well uhm yes but i ehhhmmm ticked saying i didn’t want daddies” i replied nervously using stitch to cover my penis. However at that the man pulled out a bundle of paper which appeared to be my information, turning it around pointed to the question which i was referring too and my eyes widened in shock as i reread the question in shock, “Im sorry baby but that question does in fact say which you’d prefer, and you’ve ticked Daddy!” The man said firmly as i began to flap and panic “no but im sorry but you don’t understand! Im baby boy who wanted a mommy gf i wanted a hetro relationship a dommy mommy! I have to fix this! Im sorry but I’m not into men!”
“So your going to break your contract? Alright, thats fine baby but i’ll be suing you for my £20,000 back after all that is what i paid the experts at the agency to be given an adult baby!” The man said quite firmly as he watched me trembling on the cold pink plastic chair. “But… but… but sir theres been a mix up…. I… No please don’t sue me I just wanted a happy life as an adopted ABDL!” I begged on the verge of tears. “Well, honour your contract baby and i’ll see to it you live a happy life ok?” He replied as he stood up, towering over me, and took stitch from my arms as well as grabbing my bag and walking over to what looked like a floor safe. “Now don’t get me wrong baby, i did in fact ask for a female baby from the agency and as you are with me, I’m slightly disappointed however i see looking at your profile and kink analysis that your a good 95% sissy! So from this point forth you will be my Sissy Daughter Jade not James. Truth be told looking at your skinny and weak little frame there, you’ll fit much more comfortably as a little girl” he explained as he locked anything male related in the floor safe.
Hearing him talk my heart sunk, I’d gone from starting the day as a man who was going to be regressed and adored by a beautiful woman too a sissy who was going to be humiliated and god knows what else by this superior specimen of a man to me. However walking over to me the man crouch down cupping my cheek in his hand he smiled gently and said, “Listen jade, I’m your daddy from now on ok? I know its not what you expected but I promise you will be looked after here. Let me introduce myself properly, I’m the CEO (Chief Executive Officer) of Shein, my name is Ulysses Carmichael and I’m a highly involved member of the Christian church. But you’ll just call me daddy or Father at church, oh that reminds me!” He explained, ‘oh shit he’s deeply religious too?!!! Can this get any worse for me! Im an atheist!!’ I thought as from his pocket he pulled a cross necklace, however clearly it was made for a little girl as at the intersection of the cross was the most juvenile and pathetic looking flower design. “For you Jade!” He said excitedly as he moved round to behind me and fastened it in place around my neck. “Thank you Ulysses but I’m actually deeply atheist and don’t believe in higher powers” i said trying to sound confident about something however i received a very blunt response. “Any daughter of mine, living under my roof and being taken care of by me WILL wear religious iconography, WILL pray morning and night, WILL observe rules and customs of our religion and WILL show me respect by calling me by the titles Father! Or Daddy! Or they can expect punishment of a very serious nature do i make myself clear Jade!” As he took me by the hand stood me up in front of him and waited for my response. What could i really say ? Other than cave in! With watering eyes and both hands covering my penis I whimpered “Yes daddy! Crystal clear daddy”
“Good girl, now Jade. Lets get you more appropriately dressed. I swear, once you accept your a little girl… you’ll love and thank me for doing this to you” Daddy said taking my hand and leading me through the huge and lavish penthouse to what can only be described as an explosion of all things pink, princesses and girly. Standing me next to the pink Disney princess adorned bed the man appeared to stop, looking me up and down as though studying me, “Ok jade, so here’s what you need to understand! I’m going to keep you regressed at an age of between 3 and 6. you will always wear pull ups and use them fully. you will NEVER be dressed sluttily and in fact you’ll always have very little skin on show because your my little girl. You will actively take part in little girl activities like ballet, choir, baking, gymnastics, beauty pageants and princess parties. You will publicly be seen and known as my daughter and as such when asked about our relationship you will be honest and tell said person the whole truth. Also you will go to elocution lessons and since you’ve clearly demonstrated poor and sloppy reading skills, in the mistake that lead you here, you WILL be retaught how to read and write” daddy said sharply. However as the man attacked my reading ability my eyes began to water and lip quiver as I became upset.
“Im sorry daddy, i didn’t mean to screw up… its just so hard and uncomfortable to read because i’m dyslexic” I whimpered trying not to cry. At that the man would wrap his massive arms around me and pull my face into his chest. Wrapping my arms instinctively round him and clinging to him he said “ssssshhhh sssshhh baby its ok, daddy is here not just for himself but for you too! Your going to be changing quite a bit to be the good girl daddy wanted to adopt! So now, daddy is going to make it his personal mission to help his daughter with this unfair disadvantage shes been put at ok ? Every night we’ll read before you go to bed ok? You will not let it hold you back in your new life ok sweet pee?” Daddy said rather comfortingly, as i nodded. “Now there, lets get you dressed Jade Carmichael!” Daddy said excitedly as he let go of me and began moving around the room grabbing bits and pieces. Firstly he would manhandle my small penis into an even smaller and humiliating pink chastity cage before telling me “you will never touch this ugly thing ever again! You will pee into your pull ups, you will never ask about it and it will be referred to as your princess parts!” He said as i turned a deep shade of red in embarrassment and quietly nodded. Next Daddy would grab a pink pair of pull ups with Cinderellas face on the crotch, holding them out daddy had me step one leg at a time into them before pulling them up too totally entrap my crotch in a fluffy, padded prison of regression.
At that Daddy smiled and kissed my forehead saying, “see! Much better, now we can’t see that vulgar thing at your princess parts… your beginning to look like a little girl!” He cooed as he then approached the huge wardrobe which apon opening it revealed hundreds of pretty, prissy, humiliation dresses. Picking one out daddy then approached me holding the pastel pink dress adorned with 3 large white bows down the torso, 4 large bows around the skirt and loads of frilly white detailing, sitting it down on the bed daddy then grabbed a pair of white Satin Glossy Opaque leggings which he then guided me into. Feeling the fabric glide up my legs then compressing around my diaper was such an unusual and arousing experience as all i could feel was the cage smothering my tiny erect penis. Then to further ruin my image if masculinity, Daddy would begin securing a pastel pink mid chest length wig with a fringe, making sure it sat perfectly daddy smiled as he finished positioning it and a slight tear came to his eye which he quickly wiped away as he instructed me to sit on the edge of the bed.
Once sat down daddy began to plaster my face with makeup, conturing and highlighting, rosey cheeks and nose, matte pink lipstick, pink sparkly eyeshadow and eyebrow shaping. By the time he was done my face felt so strange, heavier almost however i was yet to see what he’d done to me as he then began work on securing fake nails to every fingernail, all were matte pastel pink except for one nail on each hand which was matte grey with a matte pastel pink bow drawn on it (the knot of the bow being accented by little gems). “Right my little princess! Upsi daisy! Lets get you into your dress!” Daddy said excitedly as he picked up the dress and unzipped the back of it. Opening it up he held my pink pastel bow cover prison suspended in front of me too step into. Not really knowing what to say i nodded and daintily stepped into the dress, guiding my newly nailed hands down into the sleeves daddy slid the dress up into place. Then turning me round, he pulled the dress right into place and then i heard the zip traveling upward as the dress began to cinch from my waste up encasing me tightly in this beautiful prison of humiliation and helplessness, once fully zipped up all i heard was a loud CLICK as daddy locked the zip in place with a padlock. Coming back round in front of me daddy raised the dress skirt and began stuffing and securing 2 poofy white tulle petticoats, i was at a loss as to what to do or say now? After all what could i do? If i ran or tried to escape i was breaking a legal document but to stay meant never having a male orgasm again?! And dressing like this for the rest of my pathetic little existence!
Grabbing a pair of sparkly pink mid shin height Ugg boots, daddy pushed me onto a sitting position on the bed causing my poofy skirt to shoot up, patting it down so i could see i watched daddy slid the extremely fluffy inside boots onto my feet. Unlike other Uggs however daddy had modified these to have a sparkly pink belt around the neck of the boot which he tightened to stop me from removing them without him. Finally he pulled me to my feet, taking my hand tightly in his he used his other hand to dig out the girly little flower Cross chain and display it outside my dress. Walking me over to the full length mirror, daddy stood next to me holding my hand and watched as i caught a glimpse of myself for the first time… shock washed over me quickly followed by squirting sissy cummies into my pull up through my cage. Looking at daddy I quickly began to protest, “what have you done to me!! Im a man!! Please!! Let me live as a little boy!! This is fucking humiliating, i can’t live like this!!” I moaned yanking my hand free of daddy’s. Suddenly a very angry look washed over daddy’s face.
What happened next flash past me as though happening in fast forward ⏩. Daddy grabbed my throat, bent me over the bed, flipped up the skirt of my dress and smashed his hand against my pullup enclosed ass 10 times while lecturing and admonishing me for my disrespect, foul language, ungratefulness, being blatantly wrong and for being a bad Christian! With each hit daddy had to lecture louder to be heard over my screams and crying in pain as with each impact i began sounding less and less masculine and began to scream and cry more like a girl. Once he was done daddy forced me into a upright kneeling position with my elbows on the bed and hands clasped where he insisted I ask god’s forgiveness for such disrespect, ungratefulness and foul language towards my daddy. It was so demoralising and humiliating being forced to pray to a deity i have no belief in through tears of pain all while feeling like my ass was on fire, it was so humiliating more sissy cummies leaked into my pullups.
After about 15 minutes standing over me and making me pray allowed and begging forgiveness, daddy finally stood me up, wiped the tears from my face and said “Jade! Do you have anything you want to say to daddy?” To which I simply sniffled as I whimpered “im…. Im… sowwy daddy…. Pwease Pwease don’t spank me again… i sowwy” like some weak little baby. At that the man once again wrapped his muscly arms around me and hugged me as he said “good girl! I accept your apology but if you repeat those offences it will be 20 spankings! But enough of the disciplinary process. I wanted to celebrate the arrival of my baby girl today!! So dry your eyes princess!” Finally daddy would retrieve from the wardrobe a pink puffer jacket which was just longer than my bow covered dress prison, has pink frills arounds the pockets and bottom and a white fluffy hood. Getting me into it daddy would zip it right up too under my chin where he would padlock the zip in place with a heart shaped padlock “daddy… uhm…. Why do you uhm…. Keep padlocking these clothes on me?” I asked nervously as he walked over to what looked like a toy box. “Dont you worry about that little princess! Thats just an extra measure for now to make sure you realise that I DECIDE when you are allowed to or will be removing layers… not you.” He replied as he opened the toy box and began ruffling around. Hearing that my heart fluttered with embarrassment and regression as i stood examining myself in all my pathetic layers. Finally daddy returned to me, holding and Angel stuffy(stitch’s pink girlfriend), “I really shouldn’t give you this after having to discipline you but, in your adoption profile it said your favourite Disney character was stitch but since he’s blue and blue is a boys colour i figured i’d buy my little girl a pink stitch!” Daddy explained handing Angel too me.
Taking Angel in my arms i felt so touched that he’d read my profile and actually tried to prepare for my arrival. Cuddling Angel I felt the softness of her fur on my makeup coated face and smiled softly as I murmured softly “thanks you daddy~”. At that daddy would take my hand again and would lead me back to the living room, there he grabbed a jacket for himself, a backpack full of duplicates and opened the front door, clenching Angel tightly i panicked shaking my head as i said “no daddy please I can’t go outside dressed like this!” To which daddy took my hand and dragged me out the door and into the lift.
“Nonsense silly! Your a little girl and you look adorable! We’re going to an adoption day celebration at my church! The church flock is made up entirely of CEOs and billionaires who have done exactly what i did. So we’re all bringing our new babies too church today to celebrate what god has gifted us with!” Daddy replied keeping a tight grip of my hand. Looking at us in the lift mirror humiliation washed over me as here i stood only a foot shorter than this immaculately dressed muscular businessman covered in tattoos, while i stood wearing pink head too toe, holding a pink stuffy and with a face caked with feminising makeup and yet still quite obviously male by my totally unobstructed adams apple. I could only stand there holding daddy’s hand imagining what strangers looking at us would be thinking about me….. it was in that moment of thought i squirted cummies for the 3rd time into my Cinderella princess pullups.
(To be continued)
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Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 6
Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: drinking AN: Hey look- Y'all get to meet the kiddo! You think I stretched it out long enough? Chapter 5, Masterlist, Chapter 7 ~~~~~~~~~
Mia wanted to puke as her fingers wrapped around the doorknob. She wasn’t ready to face her sister but Ashley was a storm of her own; Ashley had never once waited until someone was ready to face her. That wasn’t something that was going to change now. The door creaked as she pulled it open, the old hinges screaming for her.
“Mom!” Sally shouted and ran forward as soon as the door opened. You could be forgiven for thinking they had been apart for weeks based on the excitement level but it had only been a day and a half.
“My Little Flower,” Mia wrapped her daughter up in her arms. Picking the small girl up, Mia let the momentum spin them around. “I missed you.”
“Auntie Ashley let me have Ice-cream for lunch!” Mai made a face of over dramatic horror while Sally only giggled. Ashley made a show of lecturing Sally about tattling to Mom about their adventures while Mia cried, “Ice Cream isn’t lunch!”
“It is when it’s over a hundred outside. Vegas rules- it’s on the back of the sign.” Ashley stepped inside, small pink backpack hanging over her shoulder.
“I’ll have to check the back of the sign on my way home next time!” Mia teased the little girl, rubbing her nose against the much smaller button nose. Sally had gotten many of her father’s features but mother and daughter shared noses.
“Why don’t you take your bag to your room?” Ashley swung the bag off her shoulder and held it out. “Your momma and I need to have some words about when ice cream can be counted as a meal.”
As soon as her little feet touched the floor, Sally was slipping light up pink shoes off her feat and grabbed her bag. She glanced at the stranger in her home and gave him a small wave before tiny feet made a series of thumps, loud in the way only a five year old going up a flight of stairs can manage and trailed backpack behind her as she disappeared.
“Unpack your bag!” Mia yelled in the direction of the stairs. A sound that she hoped was agreement came from above. “And put your dirty laundry in the hamper!”
“Should I go somewhere?” Tom wasn’t sure where he would go but he wanted to give the women privacy. Perhaps he was more trying to ensure his safety based on the fire in Ashley’s eyes.
“Stay right there.” Ashely sounded as if she owed the apartment. Mia wasn’t going to put herself anymore in the line of fire by arguing though.
“You better keep that little girl safe.” Ashley was clearly worried and who could blame her?
“I wouldn’t put her in harms way intentionally.” Said the woman who got wasted when she was supposed to just be having a quiet night in the hotel she worked at while the AC was down in her apartment. She was the woman who married a total stranger.
Could she really say that anymore?
Ashley opened her mouth to say something. Mia knew what she would say; everything she herself had been stressing about as soon as Tom made it clear he didn’t want to cut things off.
“I know you don’t know me-” Tom interjected, putting himself in the line of fire with clear hesitation. Family squabbles were always a delicate minefield but this wasn’t his battle ground and he had no idea where the mines were lurking.
“Oh but I do, Mr. Big Shot Actor.”
Mia winced at Ashely’s tone. That had to sting. She was thankful that someone other than her took some shots though.
Sighing, he approached what felt very much like a trap.
“Yes, I am an actor. Yes, I’m experiencing some successes at the moment. Will the momentum continue? I certainly hope so but there is no guarantee.” Running his hand through his hair, he didn’t know what he needed to say but settled on, “Do not hold my career against me.”
“What does an actor who’s working on something as huge as freaking Marvel want with a Vegas casino cocktail waitress?” Ashley’s voice rose and Mia quickly reminded her to mind her volume. Now wasn’t the time to defend her job- Ashley had her points but goddamn did they sting.
“What isn’t there to want?” Mia struggled to read the tone in Tom’s words.
“A kid.” Ashely’s voice was cold as ice.
Mia was starting to feel like a spectator watching a tennis match as Ashley and Tom went back and forth. A beer and some popcorn and it could pass as a Vegas show.
“I don’t mind that she has a kid.” He sounded honest.
“But would you have?” Ashley pushed.
She was good at pushing, that was why she had a decent job and a good partner in her life. That’s why she amounted to far more than a Las Vegas casino cocktail waitress.
“If I speak honestly, I can’t say.” Ashley started to say something but Tom didn’t give her a chance to make more than a sound, “For all I know, she told me last night. I don’t know. Neither of us can remember more than bits and pieces. What I can say is that I am committed to giving this a fair chance for me, for her and from the moment I found out about her, for that little girl up there. This marriage deserves a fair chance and I intend to give it that.”
~~~<3
When Ashely was satisfied that Tom would be safe around Sally, she went up to say her goodbyes upstairs. It was hard to say who was more thankful when the front door clicked shut behind Ashley when she left.
Giggles came from the floor above, giving away the unbothered joy of a child that Mia was envious of. Kids, man- they have things so easy.
“I swear to you,” Tom said, breaking the silence that had started to build in the room. “I will not hurt her.”
“Don’t promise that. There’s no way this works out. Because of that, there is no way she dosen’t get hurt. Hopefully it won’t be bad.”
It had been two years since Ray had walked out of their lives, out of Sally’s life, most importantly. Not once had Mia dated anyone seriously in that long and lonely time.
Sally hadn’t ever been introduced to a boyfriend and now she had a step father and she didn’t even know it.
“Mia-” She cut him off.
“We need to get you settled in.” Mia's voice was thick and she was feeling overwhelmed.
What she really wanted was to go upstairs, find the deepest darkest corner of her closet to sit in and cry. The stress was suffocating and there was still so much that needed to be figured out.
“Are you alright?” Tom scooted closer on the couch and reached out. There was hesitation in his touch but she didn’t have the energy to pull away.
They had been married for half a day and it could be counted on one hand the amount of times they had touched. She didn’t realize she was holding back tears until one slipped from her eye. It felt strange to have someone wipe it away.
It felt nice to have his hand resting against her cheek.
“What do we tell her?” Her voice was little more than a strangled whisper.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Crying could happen later when the neighborhood was asleep.
“I’m a friend visiting?” Tom offered.
“Who’s that?” Mia coughed back her emotions at the sound of Sally’s voice.
Mia jerked back from Tom’s touch. It was reflexive and she nearly fell off the small couch from the force of it. Tom looked to her for guidance, letting her lead him through the interaction.
For that, she was thankful.
“Well,” Clearing her throat, she stood and walked toward Sally. “This is Thomas. He’s a special friend of Mom’s. He’s going to be visiting for a while. Would you like to introduce yourself?”
Sally wasn’t much of a shy child, though if anyone asked her she would insist she was. Short legs took her right up to the couch.
“My name is Sally.” She was matter of fact. “I’m five. In a few months, I get to start school!”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Sally.”
“You talk funny.” Sally giggled. Behind her, Mia cringed back and mouthed an apology to Tom who only laughed.
“I do, don’t I? I’m not from around here- to me, everyone else here talks funny.”
“Where are you from?” Sally was quick to warm up to anyone.
“I’m from England. It’s very far away. There, everyone talks like me and only a few people talk like you.”
“Wooow!” Sally had a way of drawing out her ‘wow’s, as if the longer the wow, the more impressed she was. Mia had no idea where her daughter picked it up but she was always amused by it.
“Everything here is just a little bit different. Will you help me when I get confused?”
Sally nodded eagerly. There were few things she liked more than to have a job. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here visiting and making friends. Will you be my friend?”
“Sure! I’m going to go color you a picture!” She announced, running back up the stairs.
“Well, that went well.” Mia sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, running her nails across her scalp. It was a habit she had tried to break plenty of times, it made her hair look greasy quicker, always seemed to pull some hairs out and it tangled her hair, making it even more of a annoyance to brush at the end of the night. “Thank you for humoring her.”
“To little ears accents can be exciting.” Silence ticked on, neither were sure what to say. The situation was weird and without anything to direct conversation, it returned to two strangers in a room.
“Would you like something to drink?” Mai didn’t know what else to say but the silence needed to end.
“Water is fine.” She wasn’t sure how to make him feel comfortable in her home. Did she even want him to feel comfortable. As the tap ran, Tom looked around. “Is there somewhere out of the way you’d like my bags?”
Mia looked around the room herself. There wasn’t a hall closet, shoes instead were piled on a small shelf by the door and coats hung on a hook by the door. The broom and mop hung from hooks on the wall in the open. Looking at Tom even, it was clear that he wouldn’t fit on the couch.
He wouldn’t fit in the space.
It was more than that though. He wouldn’t fit in her life and they surely couldn’t fit in his.
~~~~~<3
The champagne in her glass was delicious, or she was just so wasted that she thought it was. Either could be true, if she was honest with herself. Her head spun so she did too, in the middle of a sea of white and twinkling lights sparkling off glitter and gems.
Feet tangled together and champagne spilled as the floor tipped and twisted. Strong arms caught her.
A prince caught her.
He was her prince, wasn’t he?
This was a dream, a fairy tale. This wasn’t real. This happened in movies.
Was she in a movie? Was she asleep? If she was, she wanted to enjoy the dream while it lasted.
“Did you pick a dress?” His voice was smooth as velvet as she swam in his ocean blue eyes. Was it lame to think of his eyes as ocean blue? Was that something people only thought in books?
“I can’t pick.” Each option seemed to be swept from her mind with each sip from her glass. “It’s too much pressure!”
“But its for forever.” He leaned down and kissed her hard and quick, leaving her breathless and head spinning for a whole different reason.
“That just adds more pressure.” Time was running out. Like a princess, when the clock struck midnight her life would change forever.
“Ma’am, please bring the most flattering dress. We’ll trust your expert opinion. Shall we dance while we wait for her?” He spun Mia around in a clumsy circle as the staff fluttered off.
It was ten thirty, far too early to be this drunk but it didn’t stop them. They were making their own magic, set to the timing of some internal clock that only they could read. This was their night.a
~~~~~<3 Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri, @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze@kats72
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