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delicatebarness · 4 months ago

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winters widow | chapter x

Summary: The shock of the incident still haunts you as Lord James faces the consequences of his actions.

Warning: Mentions of previous Sexual Assault. Violence. Murder. Trauma and Revenge.

Word Count: 1599

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A/N: I know it's not Saturday but I wanted Lord James okay, deal with it. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The gentle sound of water pouring into the bath was meant to be soothing, but today, it only heightened your fear. Two of your attentive and careful handmaidens began to move closer to you, their intentions clear. They were to help you out of your nightgown and into the warm water. Yet, the mere thought of being touched by anyone filled you with a deep, unshakeable dread.

“Please, my lady, allow us to assist you,” one of the handmaidens said softly, her hands reaching for the string on your gown.

“No!” you cried out, your voice trembling. Stumbling back, your breath came in quick, shallow gasps. Their touch, gentle as it was, felt like an unbearable intrusion.

Alarmed, unsure of what to do, the handmaidens immediately stepped back. They exchanged worried looks before one quickly rushed out of the room. Her steps echoed down the hallway as she went to the council chamber.

Within the council chamber, Lord James was in deep discussion with the advisors, but he knew something was wrong the moment the handmaiden burst in, pale and out of breath.

“My lord,” she panted, “Lady Romanoff… she needs–”

Lord James did not wait for further explanation, nor for the handmaiden to finish her sentence before he pushed back his chair and rushed out the door within an instant. His long strides took him swiftly through the Reach’s corridors. Hurrying behind him, the handmaiden tried to keep up with him, concern still etched on her face.

Reaching his chambers, Lord James could hear the muffled sound of your panic and refusal from within. He threw open the door and saw you, standing by the bath and clutching your nightgown tightly against your chest. Your eyes widened with fear. Standing helplessly nearby, the other handmaiden was unsure how to help.

“Out, now,” Lord James commanded, his voice firm and authoritative. “Leave us.”

Obeying immediately, the handmaidens bowed their heads and exited the chamber. Lord James closed the door behind them. He turned to you, his expression softening as he approached.

“My love,” he gently said, his voice instantly soothing your frayed nerves. “It’s just me now. You’re safe.”

Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at him. “I can’t… I can’t James. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

His movements were slow and deliberate as he took a step closer. “You have no need to apologize, my love. You do not have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he paused, his gaze flickering between you and the filled bath. “May I assist you instead? Only if you’re comfortable with that.”

For a moment, you hesitated but the trust you held in your betrothed, outweighed your fear. Nodding, your voice strained barely above a whisper. “Yes… please.”

Approaching you with the utmost care, Lord James’ hands were steady and reassuring. He gently undone the spring tying your nightgown together, his eyes never leaving yours. He silently asked for your consent with every move. While you nodded again, he began to wase the fabric over your shoulders and down your arms, his touch respectful and comforting.

As the nightgown pooled at your feet, he wrapped you in a large, soft towel, keeping you covered and warm. He then guided you to the edge of the bath, trying to disguise the hitch in his breath as he caught sight of the bruising against your skin.

“Step in when you’re ready,” he said, his voice a calming presence in the room.

Taking a deep breath, you found your strength in his steady gaze. You stepped into the warm water with his help, feeling the heat seep into your tense muscles. Lord James kept hold of the towel until you were fully submerged, he draped it over the side of the tub within easy reach.

Lord James knelt beside the bath, his hands resting gently on the edge. “I’ll stay right here, my love.”

You managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, James. For everything.”

His eyes filled with love and understanding, returning the smile. “Always, my love. Always.”

The warmth of the water and Lord James’ presence began to ease the tension in your body. And, for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax. If only a little, knowing that you were truly safe with your lord, and wolf by your side.

The bath and Lord James’ presence had calmed you significantly, and once you were settled, he left his chambers to allow you some privacy and to return to his duties.

The council chambers were now empty except for Lord James and his father, Lord George of House Barnes, Lord of Winter’s Reach, and Warden of the North. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of unspoke words hung in the air as Lord Barnes stood with his arms crossed, stern but fair gaze fixed on his son.

“James,” the seasoned commander began, his voice heavy with disapproval. “We must discuss what you have done.”

Lord James’ turned to face his father, defiance, and weariness etched on his expression. “Father, I merely did what had to be done. He deserved to pay for what he did to her.”

Lord Barnes shook his head, frustration etched in his brow. “Acting on vengeance might feel justified, but it jeopardizes our position and our plans to rebuild. We need stability now more than ever, you can not let your emotions cloud your judgment.”

The White Wolf’s fists clenched at his sides, struggling to keep his anger contained. “Stability? That monster violated the woman I love and you talk about stability? I could not stand by and do nothing.”

“You think I don’t understand your pain?” His father’s voice rose, his emotions breaking through his usual stoic facade. “I’ve led my men into battle, I have seen horrors that even you can not imagine. But, as leaders James, we must rise above our personal vendettas. Your actions could have far-reaching consequences.”

Lord James took a deep breath, his resolve unwavering. “Consequences or not, I had to do it. For her. For the peace of mind that she can begin to heal knowing that man is gone.”

Lord Barnes let out a heavy sigh, his anger giving way to a more somber tone. “And, what about your own peace of mind? This burden you’ve taken on– it will haunt you. Killing him might have satisfied you, but… it won’t erase what happened.”

“I know, Father,” Lord James’ eyes softened, his thoughts drifting back to you. “I did not wish to rewrite our history. But, I’ll bear that burden if it means she can sleep a little easier. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”

Stepping closer, Lord Barnes placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I may have let my emotions take over. But, I will not regret what I did.” Lord James spoke, breaking the short silence between father and son.

“Nor should you,” Lord Barnes replied, his tone softening. “But, you must learn to find the balance between protecting those we love and leading our people with a clear head.”

As the men delved into discussions about fortifications and resources, there was a sudden commotion erupting outside the council chambers. Sounds of muffled shouts and hurried footsteps grew louder, pulling their attention away from the map of the realm, and spread out plans.

Lord Barnes frowned, looking toward the door. “What in the Seven Hells is going on out there?”

As Lord James rose from his seat, the door burst open, and one of the guards, wide-eyed and breathless, stumbled into the room. “My lords, your attention is needed outside. Now.”

Exchanging a puzzled glance with his father, the lords quickly followed the guard out of the chambers. The scene that greeted them as they stepped into the courtyard was one of awe and chaos.

The people of Winter’s Reach were gathered, fear and curiosity mixed on their faces. In the sky, circling above them, were not one, but three dragons. The creatures cast long shadows over the grounds, their scales reflecting in the sunlight.

The first dragon held a majestic and commanding presence, landing with a thunderous thud. Its rider, Lady Natasha, dismounted with a practiced ease. Her braided, fiery hair flowed in the wind. Lady Natasha’s dragon, was the eldest and a leader, with its regal bearing and steely gaze exuded authority and strength.

From the west, a fierce and valiant dragon descended. This dragon, ridden by Lady Yelena, was smaller in stature but no less intimidating. With an almost metallic gleam, the dragon's scales shimmered and its eyes burned with determination. Sliding off her dragon’s back with the grace of a seasoned warrior, Yelena’s expression was that of urgency.

A much smaller and distinctly adorable dragon, followed closely and riderless. Its scales were a brilliant array of colors, and its eyes sparkled with a playful curiosity. Know for her endearing demeanor and fierce loyalty, Sunflower, Sunny for short, was your dragon. She landed softly, nuzzling Yelena affectionately as they approached the Reach.

“Why are there suddenly three dragons in the North?” Lord James muttered to himself, bewildered by the appearance of the legendary beasts from the sky. His heart raced as he recognized their riders, shaken by the sudden appearance of your sisters.

Striding forward, Lady Natasha’s eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Lord James. With the confidence and authority of someone accustomed to command, Yelena followed as the dragons watched over them protectively.

“James,” Natasha called out, her voice cut through the murmurs of the onlookers. “Where is she? Where is our sister?”

---

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a-certain-romance · 1 year ago

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She can hardly wait

Characters/Ships: Yae Miko x fem!reader & Dehya x fem!reader

Synopsis:

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, a/b/o dynamics (both) possessive tendencies (Miko), biting (Miko), fangs (Miko), mentions of blood (Miko), Praise (Dehya), Riding (Deyha)

In actuality, you had nothing against not wanting Miko to help you through your heat. But you couldn’t help but be somewhat wary of the person she would become when the cycle gets to her.

So when your heat came around the corner and you avoided her as best as you could, this sly fox decides to make no interference whatsoever. If you really think you can handle it alone, so be it. She won’t stop you. Miko knows you’ll need her eventually. It’s only a matter of time until you come crawling to her with tears in your eyes.

In fact, she’ll do things to purposely tease the shit out of you. Showing off her legs more, whispering in your ear with a breathy voice, lingering touches too close for comfort. “I’m sure you must have a good reason to keep this from me. But dear, wouldn’t your rather let me take it from here, hmm?”

She wants you to beg for it. Her favorite part about this whole process is how weak and willing you would undoubtedly become. Miko can smell your desire from a mile away so it’s only a matter of time. She finds this whole idea laughable. What am I going to do, break you? She’s debating it.

It’s all fun and games to her. That is until, your scent starts to attract the attention of others. Left and right, men & women approach you more often, offering their their “assistance” to help satisfy their your needs.

And it ticked Miko off. Tch, like they can do any better. Perhaps she spent too much watching you tremble and not enough time doing anything about it. It’s about time she gives you what you’ve been aching for.

“My, you are desperate little thing” her index finger slides slowly down your stomach. “Tell me. Would you have said yes to them? Those faceless scoundrels who don’t know you like I do.”

“Never, Miko—“

“That’s right, because you’re mine. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good” She taps her finger firmly at your entrance in a familiar pattern. Three, two, one…one, two, three.

“Alright, I believe I’ve teased you long enough. It’s about time to let the world know who you belong to, don’t you think?”

Her pointed teeth pierce the skin right above your collarbone. At the same time, Miko slides the end of her cock past your folds. With that, every sensation becomes heightened. Even though it’s only the tip, you arch yourself close to her.

“Well aren’t you needy” She swipes a bit of blood off her pointed fangs as she smirks down at you. “It’s only just the tip. I’ve barley touched you yet.” Miko leans down to lick your wound clean.

“There. If anyone should dare to defy this mark, they shall answer to me. Now let’s finish this, shall we?”

Dehya on the otherhand is the polar opposite of Miko. She would drop everything to be with you if you called for her. She’s on you in seconds the minute she smells you flare up. Deyha’s managed to keep track of the time of your cycles so she can prepare accordingly. She’s been with you long enough to know the signs: flushed cheeks paired with a stronger scent and a little bit of extra clinginess. It makes her wonder why you’re hiding this time around.

Deyha brings a bag of overnight clothes to your place where you’ve been isolating yourself. She finds you huddled in a pile of blankets, sweating profusely. Only this time it wasn’t because of Sumeru’s intense weather.

“Missed me?”

You mumble out a response to which she shakes her head at. Before tending to your sexual needs, she forces you to drink a cup of water and removes a few blankets from your bed so they won’t get in the way later. You explain afterwards how Dehya’s involvement with Sumeru’s chaos lead to you decide to go through this one on your own since she seemed preoccupied with other matters. She lightly scolds you for not mentioning this sooner. Dehya doesn’t stay mad for too long though. Now that she’s here, she’s going to make you spend your day and night working through your heat.

“That’s it..that’s my girl. Think you can take it all the way?” Dehya opens your legs wider around her waist and pulls you close to her chest. It never fails to shock you how she can go from pampering you to pounding you at a moment’s notice.

She groans into your neck when she bottoms out. “You’re taking my cock so well baby”. Her hand caresses your cheek, “I’ll make you feel so good. I’m gonna start thrusting now, okay?”

Her stokes are languid as you get used to the position. But your intoxicating scent triggers a rut of her own. Her breath hitches. A new feeling suddenly being awoken. She brazenly pulls you you closer by the hips to meet her thrusts. The closer you are, the further she fucks her shaft into you.

“Nnh, please just hold still for me, like a good girl would” Dehya changes the angle to hit deeper than before. The way her cock drags against your walls feels heavenly. Despite this being your heat, she’s a whimpering mess trying to please the both of you.

“Baby, you feel so good,” she whispers close to your ear, “Such a good girl. I need to—“

Her the throbbing head repeatedly knocks against your cervix. She swells, pulls out, and shoots her load on your stomach. Your slick still continues to drip from between your legs; your satisfaction not entirely met. You still need Dehya’s help. And that means you’re going to let her take you however she wants, right?

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #yae miko x reader #yae miko imagines #yae miko smut #yae miko x y/n #yae smut #dehya x reader #dehya x y/n #dehya x you #dehya smut #💋

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sgiandubh · 1 year ago

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Saw your comment: "We're not all thirsty mommies, nor 12, nor bitter bitches. I'd love to see and hear more about what is beneath that mask, not beneath that shirt." Sam has done that before. He wrote an entire book about his journey but the book is called bullshit and he a liar. He's written well-thought out articles and forewords to books. He speaks intelligently and passionately and knowledgably about his liquors and the process of getting to market, and is called a shill. His work with Prickly Thistle is expensive and taking peoples' money, even when it helped this woman-owned mill immensely. It goes on and on. Today he's been accused of hypocrisy for a plastic cup, thirst trapping to change a conversation and using his social media as a PR tool to fool gullible women. Some may want to see beneath the mask but when he's shown what he is willing to you get the above.

Dear Hypocrisy Anon,

Thank you for your thoughts. I have read your long comment very carefully and let's say I agree with about 85% of it. The itching point is, of course, the book: Waypoints is a good ghostwritten memoir I have commented at length, with a more benevolent view than most of those who found it took some substantial liberty with what they (and I, for that matter) think it's the current state of play in SC Land. Note I am not saying the truth: that's only for Them to know, not for us. So dismissing it and calling everything a lie is a bit of a stretch. It's just a memoir, to be followed by other projects, other books. And who knows, another memoir, later on, where he could correct the course again at his convenience. He's only 43. Give the man some credit.

Trouble is, the world is a vast and diverse place. It's not just this fractured fandom. If he wants to remain relevant beyond OL, he needs, in my humble opinion, two things: a) to score a big role in a big budget production, which would improve his notoriety and help him reach a different public and b) curate his personal image a bit more and get out of this midlife crisis fake character he's peddling around. The only people who find it interesting are the thirsty mommies in *urv's crowd and that's, uhm... a bit irrelevant, in the big scheme of things.

So, no more political blunders, please and thank you. Shut the hell up and play Switzerland on complicated and divisive society issues which can get one in boiled water for a comma. Carefully picked and curated CSR projects, he'd ideally be more actively involved in. And yes, maybe a bit more transparency on the so many great things he does, like that partnership with the Edinburgh's Youth Theatre he didn't even mention himself or include in his stories (no doubt, out of a very British and endearing sense of modesty). And always remember: when faced with something beautiful and fragile, like that story, people will try their best to smear it and break it. I am not bitter, just realistic.

Same goes for your conclusion: I am sure many would like to see more of what is beneath that mask. It's too bad that a bunch of bitter, nasty, clueless, but also very noisy women occupy a bigger part of the stage than they should.

But have faith, Anon. For the moment, all of this is nothing what a good PR, not the clowns he obviously hired, can't fix with relative ease. Trust me. I've seen way worse. And remember, always remember what dear Wilde (God, I love that soul!) said: 'every saint has a past and every sinner has a future'.

You just gave me an idea for a future post and for this, I thank you, Anon. But for now, I have to catch up on a thing or two, rather than determine the morality of a plastic glass. I hope this long answer helps somewhat. Thank you for dropping by: it was a pleasure reading your musings.

#Anon

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fincalinde · 1 year ago

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you’ve mentioned a few times in your meta that you view nmj as being hypocritical, and i’m inclined to agree with you! would you share some specific quotes from the text that you feel especially support this reading of his character? 👀

It is one of my favourite words to apply to him, isn’t it! I think that’s because a) it’s true, and b) NMJ’s reputation for righteousness (and his belief in his own righteousness) grant an in-universe illusion of consistency that often bleeds through to external readings of him. So I press the point, because it’s fundamental to his character and I usually see it elided or reduced to all-bark-and-no-bite-grumpy-bear-with-a-heart-of-gold fanon NMJ.

And oh yes, there’s an absolute wealth of quotes supporting this. As always, I use the EXR fan translation because I’m old school.

Christ, this got long. Click for more.

It’s all relative, man

First we need to establish what NMJ’s principles supposedly are.

[Nie Huaisang’s] brother, Nie Mingjue, was extremely resolute when carrying out orders, quite renowned in the cultivation world. […] Nie Mingjue had always taught his younger brother with extreme harshness, particularly caring for his studies. (Chapter 13)

[…] he took over the Nie Sect before he even reached twenty, doing everything in a direct, forceful fashion. (Chapter 21)

When he lived, Nie Mingjue was often exasperated by the fact that his brother didn’t meet expectations, so he disciplined him strictly. (Chapter 21)

In spite of Nie Mingjue being a junior to Jin Guangshan, he conducted himself in a strict manner and refused to tolerate Xue Yang no matter what. (Chapter 30)

Without any hesitation, Nie Mingjue scolded, “Drinking the water he brought you while speaking such spiteful words! Did you join my forces not to kill the Wen-dogs but to make idle talk?!” (Chapter 48)

“A proper man should carry himself with proud righteousness. There’s no need to care for the talk of those idlers.” (Chapter 48)

As we can see, NMJ is all about righteousness, but we don’t get too many details confirming what that righteousness entails. We’re expected to make assumptions based on context: that his values are in line with the ideal values of his society, and that he’s living his life according to those principles (and enforcing said principles on others).

This is worth keeping in mind. We know NMJ is ‘righteous’. We know, in a general sense, what societal standards for morality are in this setting and we see the tension between society’s theoretical standards, its actual standards, and the moral frameworks of characters such as WWX and LXC. And there’s tension between those standards and NMJ’s moral framework, too. But though WWX attempts (and fails) to opt out and LXC attempts (and fails) to find a better way through open conversation and consideration of context, their failures are not due to hypocrisy but instead larger forces at play. In other words, they go up against society and society wins.

NMJ has a problem with society too, but for him the problem is not with its rules and assumptions—it’s with the individuals who make it up. He has no problem with the system. To NMJ, the system is a good thing. If only the people in it would rigidly conform to the rules, everything would be fine. And an outlook like that can only ever lead to hypocrisy, not just because human beings and their actions don’t fit into rigid categories, but because by not attempting to navigate the system (LXC, JGY, JC) or even attempting to opt out (WWX, LWJ, XY), NMJ positions himself above society, as a moral arbiter.

This is why he feels entitled to upbraid JGS, who is a generation above him. It’s why he feels entitled to harass and attempt to murder JGY for not being loyal to NMJ over and above his filial duty to his father. These actions are after he’s reached the point of no return with the sabre spirit, yes, but they didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s just the nadir of a path he’s been on presumably his entire life.

All the information is on the task

NMJ is very good at bending his supposedly rigid principles when it��s convenient for him, while not offering any grace or understanding to others who do the same. And ‘others’, let’s be real, usually equates to JGY. The horror vortex of NMJ’s obsession with controlling JGY really cannot be escaped.

Let’s start with the biggie. JGY is naturally the one who calls NMJ out, because he’s the only one who can see the emperor has no clothes, and by clothes I mean leg to stand on.

“But, Brother, I have always wanted to ask you something—the lives under your hands are in any regard more than those under mine, so why is it that I only killed a few cultivators out of desperation and you keep on bringing it up, even until now?” (Chapter 48)

“Are you saying that all of the people you killed deserved their deaths? […] Then, may I ask, just how do you decide if someone deserves death? Are your standards absolutely correct? If I kill one but save hundreds, would the good outweigh the bad, or would I still deserve death? To do great things, sacrifices must happen.” (Chapter 48)

Chifeng-zun, my man, he has nailed you. The point is not to start drawing equivalences in quite the way JGY is doing—I would certainly argue that if you’re killing undeserving people for the greater good you’d better have one hell of a greater good to be aiming for, even in the crapsack world of MDZS. JGY’s argument is partly a numbers game, but I want to set that aside, because it’s a distraction from his core point, to which numbers are irrelevant: can NMJ truly justify every single murder he has ever committed? Because if he can’t, he’s condemned by his own supposed standards. Note JGY’s use of the word ‘absolute’. NMJ is a moral absolutist! Is he absolutely sure? And if he is sure, does it matter that he’s sure? Why is his certainty more important than anyone else’s?

NMJ never once grapples with these questions. If he did, he might be able to pull the teeth of his own hypocrisy by acknowledging it and engaging with it. But of course he’s not capable of that, certainly not by the time of this scene.

And speaking of NMJ’s hypocrisy re: who does and doesn’t deserve to die…

“Very well! I’ll kill myself after I kill you!” (Chapter 49)

But Roquen, you cry! NMJ says such an utterly mad thing because he’s battered and beaten and not thinking clearly, not to mention past the point of no return with the sabre spirit as he’s been cultivating with resentful energy intensely throughout the war! That’s why he walks it back after LXC intervenes!

To which I say: it is almost as though context matters!

And yes, I’m aware of the context. I’m aware that just before this bit of dialogue the narrative claims JGY pointing out ‘if I hadn’t killed them you’d be dead’ is a subtle way of saying ‘you can’t kill me because you owe me your life’ as though that’s purely manipulative rather than being, you know, true. ‘Even if you refuse to accept I acted for the best, please don’t kill me and I’m going to subtly remind you that you owe me to maximise my chances of getting you to not kill me (after I just risked my life to save yours when it would have been 100x better for me personally if you died)’ is hardly an outrageous position.

It’s interesting, though, isn’t it, that NMJ never again mentions taking his own life as a matter of principle, despite the fact that he subsequently attempts to murder JGY again for the apparently unforgivable crime of … not being able to overrule his abusive father about XY, and then having the temerity to complain to LXC about NMJ’s attempt to murder him.

Obviously the Jin are a huge threat after the war, but these are all pretty feeble reasons for piling on JGY. Sure, maybe JGY would also have tried to protect XY if JGS weren’t around, but the fact is that JGS is around and he’s calling the shots. Besides, once JGS is out of the picture JGY has no issue disposing of XY (with Dr Evil levels of ineptness, apparently), so that’s a fairly decent indicator he’s not ride or die. As for the fact that JGY is making nice to NMJ’s face but complaining behind his back, well. Regardless of any genuine desire to vent to his only friend, I have no doubt he was indeed trying to drive a wedge between NMJ and LXC as a strategic move. But is it wrong of him to do so, considering NMJ is a genuine and present threat to his life and LXC is just not getting it? And does any of the above, including his struggle to maintain his position and all the other work he does for his father mean he deserves death—immediate, extrajudicial and violent death?

Let me put it this way. NMJ is making JGY responsible for his father’s actions and his father’s orders—the question of whether JGY is on board with his father’s instructions is academic, because he has no choice in the matter. JGY cannot opt out of his situation. The only opt out is death, and that is not a meaningful choice because no one else is getting vilified for having the audacity to fight for their place in their world rather than lie down and die. And even if JGY really were a cackling supervillain 100% on board with his father’s diabolical plans, NMJ’s focus on him to the exclusion of JGS is driven by emotion and not by a rational evaluation of the morality and logistics of the situation.

And when he’s insisting that JGY deserves death (and trying to mete it out to him) NMJ never again considers for a moment whether, if JGY really deserves to die, then maybe he does too.

As a third example, to make it a hat trick, we have this:

However, Jin Guangyao wasn’t his subordinate anymore. Only after they became sworn brothers would he have the status and the position to urge Jin Guangyao, like how he disciplined his younger brother, Nie Huaisang. (Chapter 49)

“Brother, it really was my father’s orders. I couldn’t refuse. Now. if you want me to take care of Xue Yang, what would I say to him?” (Chapter 49)

NMJ is perfectly aware that according to the rules of their society and the moral framework he himself subscribes to, JGY’s highest authority is his father. But NMJ can’t accept that. He thinks he should be the ultimate authority over JGY, and though he couches it in moral terms about wanting JGY to follow the correct path, what he really means is what he himself considers to be the correct path. As always, he doesn’t listen to JGY’s perfectly valid points about how it’s not possible for him to do the ‘right’ thing as he just doesn’t have that kind of authority and will only end up making his own life worse. I don’t have a quote demonstrating this, but considering everything we know about NMJ, I think we can infer he would not take kindly to JGY ordering NHS to do something futile and self-destructive in the name of the correct path, purely on the grounds that JGY is now his elder brother.

I’ll acknowledge again that JGY is absolutely an accomplice in his father’s schemes, and the originator of a fair few of them since he’s politically gifted. But it’s just not possible to untangle JGY’s complicity from his need (and his right!) to survive. NMJ is correct to be concerned about JGY as a risk, because he’s a huge asset to JGS. But once again, making JGY a target is not the moral or even the sensible thing to do. We know JGY enjoys aspects of what his father asks him to do. We also know that once his father is out of the picture he gets rid of XY, purges the Jin of corruption and pushes through the watchtower project. When he has agency as a clan leader he doesn’t follow his father’s political agenda to the letter, to say the least! So there is certainly a large dollop of truth in his claims that he has no choice and he’s unhappy and vulnerable.

And then a bonus, something not linked to JGY to demonstrate that NMJ’s hypocrisy extends beyond his personal vendetta.

Nie Mingjue spoke coldly. “If she responded with only silence and not opposition when the Wen Sect was causing mayhem, it’s the same as indifference. She shouldn’t have been so disillusioned as to hope that she could be treated with respect when the Wen Sect was doing evil and be unwilling to suffer the consequences and pay the price when the Wen Sect was wiped out.” (Chapter 73)

Charming. Funny how NMJ says this after spending the war fighting on the same side as the guy who invented demonic cultivation and controls an army of desecrated corpses, violating every possible social and cultural principle they have. But the Sunshot Campaign would have failed without WWX’s contributions, so I suppose NMJ thought that compromise was acceptable. It’s all right for him to stay silent and not oppose WWX, since WWX has been useful to his own agenda. What’s not acceptable is staying silent when the consequence is your own violent death and literally no good whatsoever being achieved thereby.

Aside from being a hypocrite, NMJ is also pathologically incapable of self-reflection.

Finish him!

At the end of the day, NMJ’s principles are inherently contradictory because he’s living in morally relative world where the narrative expects us to take context into account and root for a protagonist who brutally tortures his enemies to death and a romantic lead who find+replaces his ethical framework with ‘Wei Ying’.

It is simply not possible for NMJ to be both righteous and rigid, so when he chooses to be rigid he foregoes being righteous. Even in his moments of flexibility, he continues to apply harsh standards to others that he refuses to apply to himself. That’s what makes him a hypocrite. He isn’t a bastion of absolute morality in a sea of corruption. He’s in denial about the nuanced reality he’s living in, and placing himself on high as a moral authority with no actual mandate. Hypocrisy inevitably results, and the consequences are hugely damaging to everyone around him.

#ask #thatswhatsushesaid #roquen meta #like i said he is FASCINATING #but in a horrifying kind of way #i should also sling in the tags a clarification #that i literally do not care that wwx has an army of desecrated corpses #i'm just pointing out that like you know #it's relevant #if i applied my actual real life moral standards to this text #i wouldn't be able to engage with it all #bc everyone is a walking war crime

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skyfallslayer · 4 months ago

Text

A Careful Whisper || Chapter 1

-AQP D1: Eric x Fem!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🔇Chapter Summary: You knew that this day was going to be full of risk and danger, but you didn’t think you’d be stumbling through New York with a hole in your side. All you needed to do was wait for the signal and everything should be okay. Everything… well… from the sound of it, you might be too late anyway.

🔇Pairings: Eric x Fem!Reader

🔇Rating: Mature

🔇Word Count: 3,077

🔇Date: 7/11/24

🔇Warnings: Reader Has Military Training; Reader Has a Potty Mouth; Death/Murdering; Talks of How to Unalive People; Reader Might Have Done This a lot In This Chapter; Gun Use; Assault; Fighting; Mention of Blood and Open Wound. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🔇A/N: Hot damn! It's finally here. A bit of trial and error here for this one. I hate when I have an idea of what I want and then you either A) have trouble writing it out, or B) start write it until a new and better idea forms and changes everything. Lol. Anyway, it's short, but enjoy!

The day was June 18th, 2020. How did you know this? Well… this was the day you were looking forward to. It was the day you were supposed to change everything, to make sure the inevitable doom didn’t destroy lives. But of course–

Your life went to shit. It always found a way to go to shit. The day had turned sour before you even could blink. And now–

You’re stumbling through the Big Apple with a huge wound on your side.

This whole situation was supposed to be easy, a quick pop in on your ally, a quick exchange that was supposed to be easy – not traumatizing and changing your plans immensely. You’re already feeling dazed and confused as you run out of your colleague’s apartment, a death grip on the laptop he left behind. You’re sure you can hear your attackers moving around and trying to find you.

No. They can’t find you. Not when you had something that could literally save billions of lives worldwide. They can’t stop you. They shouldn’t stop you. You don’t understand why they didn’t want this info to be public. Sure, maybe questions will be thrown around about them, but–

As you turned and were about to bolt down the stairs, you saw one of the men a few feet behind with his silencer trained on you. You duck and nearly throw yourself down the stairs as the casing jams itself into the wall. You pretty much just took as big of a step you could without falling to cut some of your run time down — while you listen to the echoes of the three footsteps above. As soon as your feet touched the floor on the last level you were out of the building in less than a second, blending into the everyday busy streets.

You and your colleagues agreed to meet at the apartment for that very reason in case someone unwanted came along and wanted to end the party. Yet to be honest, you thought you guys would be out of the blue, safe in a busy city that could have a hundred witnesses at a time. But you were wrong, and now you’re struggling to get through the crowds without passing out.

You heard the laptop, the ones that could fold in half like a tablet, beep and you glance down. An error message popped up on the screen making your curse.

Fuck. No. You nearly stumbled into a passerby-er upon reading it.

“Sorry.” You said, looking frantically around. The smell of freshly grilled hot dogs hits your nose, your stomach rumbling from the lack of eating for several days, but you push it aside and hide beside the food truck. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You start furiously tapping the screen, typing any code you could muster to get the error to disappear. “Come on, you piece of shit. Work.” You kept typing and typing, the screen beeping and returning to normal. You smile. “...Yes.”

“Hey!”

Your eyes snap up and you see one of the men storming towards you, bitterness on his rough features. With all your strength, and your deepest apologies, you grab and shoved the civilian next to you at the attacker before bolting. You duck through the crowd, occasionally looking back. Your heart was in your throat, dark spots danced through your vision, and your head was pounding.

Come on! Will this stupid thing finish uploading already?! You yelp in surprise as someone’s hand latched around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

“Hey, Baby.” The man said, grinning, and started pulling on you – there was also a lie resting on his very punch-able lips. “Why did you leave in such a hurry? We didn’t even finish our meal.”

You groan at the pressure, and how he starts tugging into an alleyway. You look around again, realizing how ‘normal’ this must look in a city like New York. He starts reaching for the laptop, and you shift your body away from his reach; Upon doing so, he starts applying more force, ready to snap your bone if necessary. You hissed through your teeth, trying to find some kind of an opening.

“Come on, Lieutenant.” He urges, a deranged look in his discolored eye. “Comply.”

“Comply, my ass.” You spat, before headbutting him in the nose, temporarily stunning him.

You dodged the punch and the attempt to put you in a choke hold; You even managed to grab his own wrist and put him in some type of submission. When you finally see your opening, you push him gently forward while grabbing his gun off his belt, and proceed to shoot him once in the back of the kneecap. He falls flat with a cry, and your gaze looks out of the alleyway, checking to see if anyone heard or saw that (Shocker, nobody notices a thing in this city). You then made your way out of it when your coast was clear.

“L-Lieutenant!” He choked, trying to reach out for you. “You don’t know what you’re doing! Lieutenant!”

You ran back into the crowd, the silencer tucked underneath your jacket. You needed to get out of the city, but how? You look around, you see a taxi, an electric scooter, a subway sign.

A subway sign!

That’s perfect. You made your way down the stairs to the underground system, pulling your jacket closer to conceal the weapon – your ever oozing wound. You knew the subway lines pretty well, it was just the matter of getting on one that’ll take you far, or at least get on one that was already pulling into the station when you get there (You can’t really afford to wait around for one too long).

But of course, your luck continues to be shitty as you hop over one of the turnstiles. You immediately feel the worker’s hand on your shoulder and you cuss mentally.

“Subway pass or ticket?”

You bite the inside of your cheek before flashing up a smile. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.” You reply, trying to look and sound really genuine. “I-I lost track of time and I’m running late for work, completely forgetting my wallet.”

The woman’s face softens a smidge, but she doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry about that, but you still need a ticket or pass to get on.”

You sigh, sadly. “Can’t you let this slide once, please?” I mean, people jump these things all the time. Come on, Lady.

“I’m sorry–” She continues, and your eyes catch the two remaining men coming down the stairs. “But it’s policy. Or otherwise–”

“Hey!” You perk up with a giant grin. “What a coincidence!” You start pointing as they suddenly spot you. “That’s my boyfriend over there coming with his brother. Maybe he can pay for my ticket.”

“That’s your– HEY!!”

You’re already flying down another set of stairs when she shouts after you, and your attackers pick up the speed. The platforms were crowded, but that can only give you so much cover, especially since your ride wasn’t here yet.

“Fuck…” You mumbled, and stole a peek from your laptop. The uploading sequence was almost complete, but god damn it! It was slow as hell. “For Christ’s sake.”

“Y/N!” One of your attackers yelled out, as he and his partner came down the steps as calm as cucumbers. “Sweetheart! Where you at?”

“Shit…” You know what they’re doing. They’re going to try to out you in public. Make people feel bad and accidentally out you. And it seemed to be working as you can faintly hear them describing you to someone what you look like.

You start hanging your head low and slouch your body. Alright, what can I do? If I get on the subway they might not be able to do anything with the amount of people… but what if they don’t care? This is New York. They could just shoot me blank in the head and scare civilians enough to blend into the crowd at the next stop.

You gnawed on the tip of your thumb. But what if I get on the subway and there’s hardly anyone? I’ll definitely be a dead man for sure so…

You heard someone mention what you’re wearing and took a peak, watching as a random civilian nodded at your attacker before gesturing your way. Jeez, thanks, man.

What do you do? What do you do? What do you do? What do you do?!

You heard the intercom chime and announced the subway was pulling up from your right; So that’ll give you less than a minute for arrival time, and probably around the same time to load everyone up. That’s enough time for what you’re thinking about do–

You saw the men start stalking closer and you said a little prayer. This has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

That’s when you took a risk and jumped onto the tracks, heading to the left tunnel and booked it. You heard people shouting, and your attackers screaming your name and telling you not to do this. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought of what “backstory” they came up with to try to woo people over – probably told everyone you were his wife who forgot to take her meds this morning and is storming NYC in a crazy state. – Sounds like a story two out of three people would believe.

Despite your very vague idea where you were going, your plan was to run to the next platform, crawl out, get above ground and take a taxi out of the city. Or maybe, in the mince of panic you’re about to ensure, you can possibly sprint to your apartment in Central, get some stuff before you’ll have to go off the grid for betraying your country. Heck, the more you think about that, the more that’s probably compromised too.

But first things first. Get this thing–

The wind was knocked out of you as soon as you tackled from behind. The laptop gets slammed onto the tracks by your weight before slipping out. The guy uses his size as an advantage to hold you down with his legs, and begins applying pressure to your neck with his hands. You make a gasping sound for air as your own try prying him away. Meanwhile, his partner picks up the device to examine it.

“How’s it coming?” The guy holding you down, asks.

“It’s at 96 percent.” His reply made you wheeze. You were so close. So close to finishing what you started.

“96 percent?” His eyebrows shoot up before looking relatively cocky again. “Man, Lieutenant, I got to say you were one of our best hackers, so I guess I’m not surprised it’s almost complete in… hmm. How long have we been chasing you since Captain Reeds’ apartment?” His gaze catches his partners. “What’s your guess? 8 minutes? 10?”

“I’d say 10.”

“Yeah? Ten’s a good number.” He grins, creepily. “You did quite the number on Michael back in the alleyway. Didn’t think you–”

You managed to slip out your gun and press it under his chin, igniting the trigger. His body falls and you push it off you with a gasp of fresh air. Maybe you really should try to hide away in Hawaii before the world went to–

The other guy heaved you up from behind, an arm around your waist, a hand over your mouth. You start kicking the air and frantically wiggling your body. Your attacker was much taller than you, bulkier too – it was hard enough for you to try to use your gun on him ‘cause he was restricting your arm movement.

“Lieutenant, come on. Just listen.” He pressures, as you send him a nasty look before sinking your teeth into his palm. “Ow!” He removes his bleeding palm to wrap his arm around your head and press it against his shoulder. “Lieutenant–”

“Let me go!” You snarled, wiggling some more. “For fuck’s sake! You know I’m just trying to help!” Can’t these dummies see any kind of sense of what you’re doing? You’re not the bad guy here!

His moments slightly faltered. Slightly. But he still didn’t give in to your reasoning. “Sorry, Lieutenant.”

He starts shifting his stance, placing his hands in the position to snap your neck as you start pleading with him. Maybe… lady luck is going to be the one to pity you this time. ‘Cause now, lights were in your view and the rail line was shaking below you.

Like a deer in some headlights, your attacker froze at the sight. He mumbled something and his grip loosened enough for you to elbow him in the chin. You dodged his efforts to grab you again, swooping down to snag the laptop and run – the damn subway hot on your tail. The tunnel was coming up to a split, and you noticed which direction it was going in and headed for the clear side. But…

You had to deal with the other issue first. You still had the silencer you stole, not sure how much ammunition you had left, and part of you wants to risk it all and try to wing it. So when you whipped around to see he was a few steps behind you, you had to wait for the perfect moment to get him off guard. However, in that very moment, something was nagging you. What if there weren’t just three guys? What if there was more waiting for you somewhere around the city? Then what? Your hand-to-hand combat could only get you so far.

You don’t know what you’re thinking, you almost felt guilty for taking out the man in this form of fashion; Yet when he got to be about an arm’s length away…

You plant a kick square in his chest and sent him into the passing subway car. Then…

You nearly collapse.

You let out a mixture of a sigh and a groan, your hand subconsciously touching your side. You felt like it was bleeding more now, but your adrenaline was so high and your body was a big ball of sweat, you could hardly tell. But you need to get it checked out soon, especially when the dark spots return to your (Y/E/C) orbs.

Wonder if I do have time to go home? You lick your chap lips, thinking just as the device beeped. You pull it up into your view, the words illuminating your face making you smile like you won a prize.

You did it.

You actually did it. You managed to get the words of the invasion out to every newsroom, radio station and any big social media platforms out there worldwide.

You did it. You could almost cry, but you laughed with joy instead. Andrea, Jose, Matt, Winston. We did it. You guys’ plan actually worked. Took a bit, but it all came together in the end. Now I really have to go off the grid.

But maybe you could help a few souls along the way, point them in the right direction, tell them what they have to do when the invaders come. You know as soon as the news station gets wind of it it’s going to be all over people’s phones and TVs. And when it comes to a place like NYC, you know despite the warning you sent of ‘Not Panicking’, there’s going to be panic. Maybe it’ll be a blessing in disguise for you, a crowd running wild in the streets maybe will give you enough coverage to run and hide.

It’s almost too good to be true. You managed to pull yourself up onto the platform at the next station, surely getting one or two looks, but whatever. You didn’t care. You could care less as you unplugged the USB from the laptop and tucking it away before discarding the device in a trash can. I’m going to head back home, address my wound, get new clothes and take anything that can help me along the way. I just hope nobody’s waiting in my living room for me.

You took the last step up and out from being underground, stopping at the top with a smile still on your face. Sucks that I’ll never get to– What?

It was like time itself had frozen, and you wonder if your dizzy head is causing this, but you suddenly saw that everyone in the city had stopped. Stopped. Stop their walking, their phone calls, their cars, their bikes – stop everything to…

Look up.

You felt the immediate fear and dread in your gut as you dared to see yourself. You swallow and stare into the bright blue sky. That’s when you saw the very thing you swore to stop – The thing came in the form of what people would think would be meteors, coming down so slowly in great balls of fire… great balls of death.

Your eyes widened as you took a step back in disbelief, nearly tripping down the stairs (You steady yourself on the railing). Everyone was so… quiet while watching. Even the birds didn’t chirp, even the dogs seemed too scared to even breathe. You were too, no doubt.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no–

You had time. You had time. You were supposed to have time before they got here. Time to prepare everything and everyone. It wasn’t supposed to be this early, they– they–

You mentally slapped yourself. Pull yourself together, Y/N!

You knew what to do. You had training. You prepared yourself for this moment when it came.

“They’re not meteorites!!” You screamed, getting most attention (Even though your throat burned and ached after being choked, you still had to try). “You need to move away! Hide! And stay quiet! These things are attracted to–”

You didn’t even get to finish your warning when one came crashing down just a few feet in front of you.

The impact was strong, strong enough to throw you and a few people backwards like you weighed nothing. You flew back down the stairs,

And that was the last thing you recall before hitting your head and blacking out.

(TBC)

A/N: Sorry it was a bit short. Consider it a teaser.

-Taglist Is Open-

@idontreallyexistyet @pantheracatluv1105 @tjohn63 @temptressofthetarrot @sunmoonstars666

#skyfallwrites #my fanfic writing #a quiet place day one #a quiet place fanfic #aqpd1 #eric aqpdo #sam aqpdo #frodo the cat #jospeh quinn #lupita nyong'o #eric aqp x reader #sam aqp x reader

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marknee · 2 years ago

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bts fanfics i think shakespeare is rolling around in his grave about right now.

chapter i. ✷ chapter iii.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — dude, what has that grave ever done to you?

( ♬ ) — i think we broke him.

( ✎ ) — he hasn’t moved in a while. should i check on him?

( ♛ ) — he’s deceased. again. dunno if that’s possible.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content will be highlighted in bold.

NOTE: yes, this is a series now. exciting, am i right? i fear there are too many incredible fics on this app to fit them into one part, so this will be multiple parts — you can access the masterlist above! leggo.

⠀

( ✮ ) CASTAWAYS — by @rmnamjoons

!! namjoon x reader | 25.5k !!

smut (18+) with plot, slow burn, fluff, angst if you squint, happy ending, so much teasing.

you ever seen the 2000 film ‘cast away’? the one with tom hanks and his inanimate volleyball named wilson? yeah, this fic is exactly what that film should’ve been. it largely lacked the existence of namjoon, and the undeniable sexual tension we were denied for a throwing ball.

namjoon’s characterisation in this is unreal. he’s so gentle and tender with his words, yet so rough and unforgiving within the sheets. you almost don’t realise it’s the same person, but am i complaining? not really. quite the contrary actually.

also, i like that it’s very realistic in some aspects. everything they do to survive on an island is exactly what you imagine yourself doing if you were dropped into their shoes, lost and fearful that any moment might just be your last.

though i went through years of scouting myself, i do not feel i am equipped enough to survive on a deserted island with an embarrassingly hot guy i met days prior. but if miss y/n can do it with less experience than i, then o ye of little faith.

i wish i could engrave this fic into my brain so i can read it whenever i please, so i guess i’m just lucky it exists here on tumblr for free. an honour, really.

@rmnamjoons has outdone themselves yet again.

⠀

( ♬ ) TAMPED — by @chimoona

!! jungkook x reader | 19.7k !!

smut (18+), fluff, humour, slow burn, mild angst/jealously, barista!au, lil bit of yoongi smut.

never mind shakespeare, this fic had me rolling around in my grave. and i’m not even dead.

if you had to choose any piece of advice to take away from this essay, let it be do not read fics like this in public. or in the presence of literally anybody. you will either a) start kicking your legs and squealing, or b) throw your phone and need a moment to compose yourself. learn from me, yes?

min yoongi is the funniest mf in this, especially in the way he teases the reader about not having been laid in a millennium. he makes this fic just an absolute treat to read. and the friendship with seokjin is so incredibly warming. you can feel the fondness they have for each other bursting through the pages (…screen? have i said that before?).

but, undoubtedly, what pulls everything together is the relationship between the reader and jungkook. it starts as toleration, then care, before it blooms into tenderness and finally, love. and you can’t get enough. of them and of the story.

you can’t help but fall in love yourself. definitely worth a read.

⠀

( ✮ ) ADJUSTMENT — by @yminie

!! hoseok x reader | 7.1k !!

smut (18+), fluff, chiropractor!hoseok, patient!reader.

the fact the authors note is, “promise it’s not a cheesy porno,” needs a mention of its own. it made me laugh, and it definitely lived up to that statement. it was better than a cheesy porno.

this fic alone at 7k does what some 20k+ fics fail to do. and that’s a talent, truly. i swear, there were moments i felt as if i was third-wheeling and intruding on something very private and very personal. i probably should’ve walked out that doctors room and left them to it.

i think i’ve said it before, but this is another great example of a good smut laced within a good plot. it was interesting, hooked you in, and left you feeling quite satisfied. content is the word i think i should say.

shame shakespeare never wrote smut, but also not really because we have authors like this who do it better.

@yminie, i’ll be keeping my eye on you. an incredible fic, really.

⠀

( ♛ ) WATERLOO — by @kinktae

!! art prodigy!taehyung x art student!reader | 13k !!

fluff, angst, some light smut, slow burn.

this was one of the first fanfics i ever read on this app. and that was what? a few years ago? wow. i’m old.

now, my memory isn’t incredible, but the fact this is one of the few fics i remember reading in a fandom i was unfamiliar to all those years ago, says a lot. about the story, the writing, and the author.

waterloo was like a soft push of the hand that guided me into the world of bts fanfics, and for that, i’m eternally grateful. i’ve never been one to dive into things straight away. i like guidance. i like ease.

so, my dear reader, if you have any friends who’re just getting into tumblr fics about bts and need that sturdy push, i solely advise you recommend this to them. but if not, this is a great fic to read otherwise.

it’s angsty, it’s cheesy, it’s cute, and it’s memorable. who doesn’t love an art prology taehyung? people who’re boring, that’s who.

⠀

( ♛ ) FROM EDEN — by @ddaenggtan

!! hoseok x yoongi x reader | 15.6k !!

greek god au, hades!reader, thanatos!hoseok, persephone!yoongi, smut, fluff, angst, violence.

anyone else go through a greek god phase? i consumed all those stories like they were my breakfast. and as you would have it, my favourite to read about was the story of hades and persephone, also known as the coming of spring and winter.

this fic is genuinely so addictive and it really knocks the tag ‘greek god!au’ out the park. it does an amazing job of representing the story we all know and love, while adding some adaptations of its own, giving the story a unique twist.

i would happily write a five thousand word essay on how much i adore bangtan as greek gods, but i fear what would become of me if i did. so i shall not. for both my sake and yours.

as shakespeare never said, but lady gaga did: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique.. etc.

and yoongi, for heavens sake, no pomegranates!

⠀

( ✎ ) VOID — by @btssavedmylifeblr (series)

!! bts x reader | 82k !!

space!au, science fiction, a lot of smut (18+), angst.

one of the reasons why i created this series is so i can do one of my favourite things ever: share what i love. i think there something so beautiful in the art of spreading appreciation. and usually, my friends were the ones who had to listen to these essays before you did, sweet reader. and this fic was one of those i didn’t shut up about.

by the end of my rant about this series, i don’t think they even needed to read it. i’d done it for them simply by talking. which is why, i will keep this short and simple. so i don’t do the same for you.

this series is so well thought out. every little detail, every hurdle in the road, every step seems to have been thought of before hand and it makes the journey that much more gripping. so, kudos to the author for that. extra brownie points.

every member has their role, their part, their moment in the story and they’re all indefinitely important and make up a team. alike bangtan, they’re all needed in order to make the ship work. without one, it’d be going down and they’d all be yelling timber. (love that song).

teamwork makes the dream work, people.

⠀

( ♬ ) PEACHES AND CREAM — by @snackhobi

!! jimin x reader | 9.1k !!

pure smut (18+).

let’s start with three words: lord have mercy. personally, i think that sums everything up pretty well. but if i left it at that, this wouldn’t be an essay now would it? so let’s continue.

the fact this fic was almost called ‘jimin and the fucking peach’ after james and the giant peach deserves extra credit for the absolute monstrosity of a laugh that escaped my mouth after reading that. a missed opportunity, truly.

honestly, jimin and his actions within this fic desperately need examining by a team of scientists in the study of inane methods to get someone’s attention because, and excuse my french, fuck me.

shakespeare was definitely giggling reading this. perhaps even kicking his legs. love that for him.

but, according to the key i put down for this fic, i also think we broke him. understandable, mate. same here. i’ll never be the same.

⠀

( ♛ ) OH MY GOD, THEY WERE (QUARANTINED) ROOMMATES — by @ot7always

!! jungkook x reader | 22.8k !!

college!au, roommates!au, fluff, smut (18+).

the absolute audacity.

the reader really has the gall to sit and complain about what unfortunate circumstances she’s in, all the while she’s stuck with the jeon jungkook of all people. i cannot deal. i wish my quarantine trapped me inside with one of the hottest men on the planet.

apart from that, how can you not love this fic? rhetorical question, dear reader. you can’t.

the undeniable sexual tension that lingers throughout the entirety of this story builds up, like lego pieces on top of one another, until it finally falls and breaks into two. and you can’t reject the satisfaction of it all.

i was lucky enough to have read this two years ago (three now as i’m writing this) while we were actively going through lockdown, and it does an amazing job of describing everything we were all feeling during that time. bored, worried, confused, lonely, frustrated, and horny (…just saying).

it made things a bit more bearable. and it’s got shirtless jungkook.

⠀

( ✎ ) THE WAY TO YOUR HEART — by @joonary

!! yoongi x reader | 9k !!

fluff, humour, office!au, coworkers!au.

the fluffiest fluff that ever did fluff. bet you shakespeare never said that in his life. shame. at least i beat him in something.

believe me when i say i was grinning like an idiot the whole time reading this, with my cheeks lightly aching. with this app filled to the brim with angst and heavier stories, this fic was like a breath of fresh air. a warm, hearty homemade meal after a rough day out in the merciless world.

if you’re in need of a hug but aren’t the physical touch kind of person, the solution is right here, my friend. this fic will rejuvenate your system and make you feel a whole lot better. believe me.

also, can i just say. the author made an impeccable job of leaving me even pickier about attributes of my future spouse than what i started with. like, how am i supposed to explain to someone i want a partner just like this exact, specific version of yoongi? like. i mean this one. all i’ll say is it proves difficult.

@joonary is the shakespeare we needed. instead he wrote romances disguised as tragedies where both parties die at the end. what the fuck.

⠀

( ♛ ) STUCK WITH YOU — by @taleasnewastime

!! seokjin x reader | 29.6k !!

strangers to lovers, smut (18+), angst, fluff.

is anyone else surprised @taleasnewastime is here again? ‘cause i’m not. her work is next level (naevis? is that you?). and i’m not ashamed to say i stalked the entirety of her masterlist after this masterpiece. hint, hint, nudge, nudge, people.

the chemistry etched within this fic is off the charts. everything is there. the banter, the tenderness, the angst, the longing to accept love, the grief. all wrapped into a bundle and gifted with a side of heartache and woe.

we all need a person like seokjin’s character in our lives. someone who lifts us from dark times and (re: figuratively) throws us into the light. i fear helps might be a better option of wording. am i right?

this story dragged my hopeless romantic ass on a one-way skydive to pain. and that’s without a parachute. it was more of a free fall, really.

and i’d most definitely do it again.

⠀

( ♬ ) WRAPPED TOGETHER — by @lemonjoonah

!! namjoon x reader | 18k !!

christmas!au, romance, drama, smut (18+).

you know those people who don’t listen to christmas music during the rest of the year because they swear it brings bad luck? well, they must hate me, ‘cause i’ll happily stream michael bublé’s christmas album in august if i have to. probably explains my bad luck too. great.

my point is, whenever you may be reading this post, whether it’s rainy october or sunny july, this fic is worth all the so-called bad luck.

it’s got the christmas spirit. the jolly music, the beautiful lights, the festive mood. and it’s got namjoon. it’s got namjoon, people! if that’s not tying the knot, then i don’t know what is.

in all seriousness though, i religiously come back to this fic whenever the holidays hit and the radios all over the uk start charting mariah carey and wham!. and it’ll cure any holiday blues.

@lemonjoonah may yet pop up again in this series. their work is definitely worth the time and read(ing?).

⠀

( ✎ ) HERE COMES THE BRIDE, ALL DRESSED IN PRIDE — by @hansolmates

!! jungkook x reader | 17.3k !!

fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating.

“boy, i, boy, i, boy, i know, i know you got the feels.” the feels, twice. literally the first song that came to mind when i finished this fic. and twice never lie.

unpopular opinion (i think?), i’m a sucker for when y/n is petty in fanfics. i love a good revenge story, especially when it’s rightfully deserved, pristinely plated and justly served. you know, all classy like. and this had all that in the bag.

the relationship in this fanfic was so respectful and i loved that. they considered each other’s feelings towards what they were getting into, so that gets a gold star for communication and consideration from me. yass healthy relationship!

shakespeare cannot relate. hence why he’s tagged under ‘hasn’t moved in a while.’ he’s flabbergasted such things exist. since he killed one of the parties in the only healthy relationship he ever wrote. like, bro?

an amazing story yet again from @hansolmates if you’re in need of that satisfaction. (not like that you pervs. i meant revenge).

⠀

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rubberfuckey · 1 year ago

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summary: After a worried phone call from Wheezie, you decide to come back to Kildare. Fourth part! Mentions of blood and a teeny snippet of violence.

part one part two part three

wc: 1.5k

a/n: as always, let me know what you think! hope y'all love it!

masterlist

talk to me

It always started the same.

Rafe was sitting outside on the porch at his house. Rose comes out holding a large bowl filled with the salad she just chopped up, everyone else already sitting at the table as they prepared to enjoy a nice dinner together. Everything was as it should be. Even you were there, sitting next to him holding his hand under the table, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Rafe told stories and cracked jokes, everyone laughed and listened intently to every word he said. All of a sudden, your smile dropped as you looked past him. His head turned as he watched JJ and John B walk across the yard towards the table. He went to stand up and tell them to leave the property, but he was stuck. He couldn’t get up from the chair he was sitting in. As they approached, he tried to yell at them, but his voice wasn’t working. He thrashed in the chair, trying to yell and move his legs. He felt completely powerless as they got closer. John B and JJ laughed as they ran up on Ward, all Rafe could do was sit there and watch as they raised a brick and smashed it right against the back of Ward’s head. His head hit the table, and they ran away. Rafe panicked and started sobbing uncontrollably as he watched him bleed out.

You woke up on the sectional across from Wheezie after hearing a scream. Wheezie was still in a deep sleep but you sat up, hearing footsteps on the floor above you. Rafe came down the stairs and stopped when he saw you sitting up on the sofa. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet. He looked exhausted.

“Uh, I’m sorry if I woke you, I was just coming down to grab a bowl of cereal.”

You looked at your phone for the time, who eats cereal at 2:47 in the morning?

“You want some?” he asked. “Sure,” you weren’t hungry, but you didn’t want to leave him alone like this.

You sat in the kitchen quietly eating, you didn’t know what to say to him.

“Rafe,” you dropped your spoon and turned towards him “does that happen often?”

“What?”

“The nightmares.”

He looked at you and shook his head, “I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

He should know by now that if you wanted an answer to your question, you weren’t going to let him skirt around the topic.

He rolled his eyes, but still answered, “Just about every night since I found out he was dead.”

You nodded slowly as you watched him push a single piece of cereal around the bowl of milk.

“Do you want to tell me about them?”

“Yes, but not right now baby. I’m so tired.”

You felt your heart break as you watched him get up and dump the milk down the sink, grabbing yours on his way. He called me baby, he didn’t even realize what he said. It just felt natural. He was shirtless and barefoot with just a pair of old gym shorts on his hips. His hair was starting to grow back and it was a complete mess right now. He looked like a hollow, cracked shell of the man you once knew and loved.

“You should get back to sleep,” he whispered, “I’m sorry again for waking you up.”

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. The couch was kind of hurting my back anyways,” you looked down nervously, hoping he’d take the hint.

“Oh, do you want to take my bed? I can take the couch, or you could just take the guest room. I don’t know, whatever you want,” he said all in one breath. You just smiled and grabbed his hand as you pulled him up toward his room. You sat down on what used to be your side of his bed and patted the space next to you. Not even back for 24 hours and you’re already back in his bed. Should you be concerned? Maybe a little. Did you care right now? Not in the slightest. He bit back a smile as he walked towards his bed and sat next to you, unsure of how to lay down. You moved down his bed, pulling him down too. You weren’t cuddling, in fact, your upper halves weren’t touching at all. You were both too scared to make that move. You faced each other, breathing each other's air and you moved your legs slightly to rest under his. He sighed contently, no matter how much he wanted to hold you, he was ecstatic just to have you here lying next to him, your cold feet on his legs like they belonged.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and he whispered gently, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Rafe.”

You woke up the next morning, in a completely different position than you had fallen asleep in. Somehow during the night, Rafe had turned his back to you and you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your face was smooshed against his bare back as he held onto the arms wrapped around him so tight it was like he was scared you would slip right out of his grasp. You didn’t move, if he had really been having these nightmares every night consistently, he needed the rest. You stayed still, dozing back off, until eventually, he started to stir. You pretended to still be asleep as he turned his head slightly and let out a chuckle at the feeling of you all wrapped up against him. He had to still be dreaming, right? Your phone buzzed on the nightstand and he grabbed it, Wheezie had texted you. Morning voice in full effect, he called your name to wake you up.

“Y/N, wake up, Wheezie texted you.”

You groaned, not ready to get up for the day, but you pulled yourself off of him as he handed you your phone. Hello?? Where’d you go??

You hated lying, but there was no way you were going to tell her you had slept next to her brother. Guest room, couch was uncomfy. Be down in a sec.

Rafe watched you send the message and snorted, “Liar.”

“Hush,” you giggled. You sat up from the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. He got up and walked into the bathroom attached to his room, grabbing a toothbrush.

“I, uh, still have the toothbrush you left here if you want to brush your teeth.”

Your heart swelled at the sentiment, “Gross, Rafe, that thing is probably all dusty and dirty by now.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re probably right,” he laughed, “I have brand new ones too.”

“Perfect,” you smiled as you got up to join him in the bathroom. You shared the sink as you both brushed your teeth together quietly. You left the room and went downstairs to where Wheezie was, making Rafe stay up in his room for a few minutes so it doesn’t seem suspicious.

“What do you want to do today, Wheeze?”

“Let’s go shopping!”

You nodded excitedly, “Okay! Go get ready, and then we can stop by my house so I can change and then we’ll hit the town.”

Rafe passed her on the steps as she went to go get dressed for the day. You sat on the sofa scrolling through Instagram as you waited. Rafe came down and sat next to you and you looked up from your phone.

“Y/N, do you think you could unblock my number? I promise to not leave you an embarrassing amount of drunk voicemails anymore.”

You laughed and nodded, going to your phone app to resave his number.

“What did you guys decide on doing today?”

“We’re just going to go do some shopping.”

He nodded as Wheezie ran down the steps, dragging you out the door, shouting goodbyes behind her as you looked back to smile and wave at Rafe.

Shopping was great, you tried on so many clothes and filled your arms with shopping bags. As you were walking into the next store, your phone buzzed, it was Rafe.

Let me take you to dinner tonight.

As a thank you for last night.

He double-texted? You shook your head with a smile, this should not be making you as happy as it is.

No need to thank me. I didn’t really do anything.

He texted back not even a minute later; Think about where you want to go. does 6 work for you? I’ll pick you up.

Kk that works see you soon (:

“What are you smiling at?” Wheezie questioned, pulling you out of your own little world.

“Nothing!” You locked your phone and put it back in your pocket quickly. Real smooth.

“Okay, I’ll pretend I don’t know you went upstairs with Rafe last night and now you’re smiling at your phone like a weirdo.”

Your smile dropped as you looked at her, shocked, “When did you get so grown?”

She just shrugged and walked over to look at a dress that was hanging up across the store.

part five

Tag List:

@allthesefanfics @f4ll-for-you @colbysbrocks @writtenwordslover

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks imagine

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disruptveyouth · 2 years ago

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SHUT UP & DRIVE

0 - you’re on your own, kid

summary: a deal is offered, unwanted memories resurface, and god damn why do women have to do everything themselves???

WC: 6.2k

warnings: angstttt, google translated French, mentions of Horner lol

a/n: buckle up besties

‘I looked around in a blood soaked gown and I saw something they can’t take away.’

“You’re a phenomenal driver, a real up and coming talent. We see great potential in you.”

Normally, you wouldn’t believe a single thing to come out of Christian Horner’s mouth. But this, what he’s saying now, you can get behind.

“That being said, we’re willing to extend an offer for a one year contract to have you race for Red Bull in the upcoming 2019 season alongside Max. We think you’d be a huge asset to the team.”

You want to scream ‘what’s the catch?’ because there has to be one, right? Your rookie season driving for Toro Rosso was a good one, you favored better than rookies in the past. It was one of your strengths as a Formula 1 driver, the ability to mount pressure on your shoulders, bear it all, and come out shining like a diamond. But are you really that much better than your teammate Pierre, can you really fill the large shoes left behind by Daniel?

What price will you have to pay for the risk Red Bull is taking choosing you?

Silence sits heavily in the room like it’s its own entity, taking up too much space, making the area feel too tight. You’re going to say yes, you and your team knew this was coming, it’s no great shock. Yet, it feels exactly that. Your fingers tingle, your throat dries, and you find it incredibly hard to focus your vision, everything appears slightly fuzzy and distorted.

You want this, you’ve always wanted this. A chance to drive for Red Bull meant a chance to collect enough points to be a true contender in the World Drivers Championship. That’s every driver on the grids dream, to hoist the trophy, to read your name in big, bold font above everyone else’s.

It’s so close you can taste it, right on the tip of your tongue, sweet and addictive.

You want this. So, why can’t you reach out and take it?

A extra pointy heel digs its way through your shoe under the table, the plastic sting of breaking skin clears your vision almost instantly. You don’t need to look beside you or down to the ground to know who’s heel has punctured you, Liz has taken a habit to wearing sharp shoes and aiming for your big toe.

‘Waking you up’ is what she calls it.

‘Borderline torture’ is what you choose to coin it.

But, she knows you better than anyone else. She sees the signs and she knows exactly how to pull you out of a hole before you’ve buried yourself in too deep to crawl out. Without her and her Red Bottoms, there’s no way you could have made it here. There’s no way, without beautiful and terrifying Elizabeth Canton, that you would be sitting across from Christian Horner, forming a wide smile and saying,

“I’d love nothing more than to drive for Red Bull in 2019.”

——

The Red Bull racing headquarters in Milton Keynes is nothing you haven’t seen before. Being a member of Toro Rosso gave you grand access to all that was potentially waiting for you, just a few rungs higher on the ladder. It’s been dancing across your fingertips, just out of reach. The sparkle of promise began to dwindle after the first few visits, but the gleam never completely faded out. There’s a different power bouncing against these walls now as you make your way through the various halls, taking your time to soak in the history and the future portrayed before you.

To know that now you walk these halls as more than just a maybe, it brings something better than a twinkle of light and hope. It’s like an electric current that runs through you, hot and fast and thrilling. And you haven’t even sat in a Red Bull car yet.

Time doesn’t matter, other people don’t matter. In that moment, it’s just you and the thrill and-

And a solid, warm chest that you round the corner directly into. Hands reach out to steady you but, before you can register the feeling of them against you, they’re pulled away. Your eyes collide with Max Verstappens unmistakable blue ones, closer and clearer than you’ve ever seen them before.

That’s not entirely the truth though, is it? You have seen his eyes this close, even closer than they are now. All these years later and you can still practically feel the tingle and hints of warmth that his lips left behind on your skin. You hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t felt it, in a very long time. But with him this close, flooding your scenes with his scent and his smile and him, the memory is all you can seem to conjure up in your mind.

“This place is insane.” You grinned as your fingertips traced the delicate wallpaper lining the hallway you slowly walked through. The house of one of your friends from your karting days was bigger than the entire neighborhood you’d grown up in. It stretched for acres across the lush, green fields of Southern France.

“It’s very .. bold.” Max kept close behind you, watching the way your eyes soaked up every inch of the environment surrounding you.

“Bold? That’s the word you choose to describe this?” You gestured to the long hallway with its rich colored carpets and fancy crown molding. It was an unusually warm winter day in that area of France, a fresh, crisp breeze traveled the corridors of the mansion through various open windows. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You shifted your eyes to Max who was still looking at you, not at all as entranced by the ornate details of the home as you were. Sixteen years of life and you’ve never been looked at the way that Max looked at you then. It filled you up, stuffed you like a teddy bear full of cotton and comfort. You were young, too young to understand love but, what floated between you and Max was what you imagined love to be.

You leaned your back against the wall, submerging yourself in his stare. There weren’t a lot of times where you and Max found yourselves completely alone. With your racing careers, the words free and time weren’t necessarily within your vocabularies. And that little free time you did have was rarely spent together since you lived in different countries. That moment together felt rare, that moment felt right.

Max leaned against the wall beside you, close enough to reach out and touch.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked quietly, trying not to burst that bubble of peace you found yourselves in. You couldn’t gather enough courage to tell him the truth, to tell him you were thinking about how much you wanted to kiss him, to hold his hand, to be around him constantly. You were so sure he felt it too. You were so sure you saw a spark in his eye when he looked at you. You thought he reserved a certain tone of voice for you, one with coated with care. You truly believed he had a smile, one that only touched his lips when he saw you.

You were so, so wrong.

Words were the hardest puzzle to solve in your mind, actions somehow seemed easier. You leaned forward, slowly inching your way into his space. Anticipation thrummed in your chest, a feeling you equated so naturally to the moments before lowering yourself into a race car. It fueled you, shot through your veins, had you leaning deeper and deeper into him until his lips were a whisper away from touching yours.

“Y/N.” He breathed out, the small call of your name drew a shiver from somewhere deep inside you.

Without another thought, you connected your lips. And he kissed you back. Hot, liquid lava flowed through your veins, melting you against him. It wasn’t your first kiss but, it felt like it should have been. No kiss you had before could compare to that feeling.

Before you could register it, Max pulled away. You blinked slowly up at him, still a little dazed and unsteady under the new warmth that flooded your system.

“I’m sorry.” Max said before clearing his throat and straightening. A piece of your heart cracked then, a piece so small that you couldn’t feel the pain of it breaking just yet. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” You straightened beside him.

“That was a mistake.” His eyes darted to the floor. A breath lodged itself in your throat, leaving you nearly gasping. “I don’t-“ Max scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. You knew what he meant, in that moment where all the warmth drained and you were left with the cold reality of his words, you knew exactly what he meant. But, you also needed to hear it. Because maybe you were wrong, maybe one of the best moments of your life wasn’t about to turn into the worst.

“I don’t like you like that, Y/N.” He spoke through a tense jaw. You shook your head, stepping backward slightly.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You-“

“Why would I lie? Why if I liked you and I could have you, would I lie?” He released a deep exhale and shook his head, still avoiding your glassy eyes. “This isn’t what I want. You’re not .. good enough. You’re not it for me.”

You’re not good enough. You’re not good enough. You’re not good enoughyou’re not good enoughyou’re not good enoughyou’re not good enough-

Those words clung to the air in between the silence in the hall as you turned away from him, from your friendship, and walked out of that mansion in France. They clung to you as you returned home from your trip and got back to training. They clung to you the first time you saw Max again at one of your F2 races. They clung to you as, instead of smiling and wishing you luck, Max turned away from you and didn’t look back.

Those words clung to you even now, many years later, as you found yourself still vibrating in his presence like a kid who thought she knew what love meant.

“Verstappen.” You try your best to sound as unamused with his presence as possible.

“Still on a last name basis, are we?” His voice doesn’t hold any malice, it’s teasing in a way that makes you want to grind your teeth together. You roll your eyes, fighting against the grin pressing at the corner of your lips. “Well I believe now the proper greeting would be something along the lines of ‘hello teammate’.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s what we are now .. teammates.” The word doesn’t taste as bitter on your tongue as you hoped it would.

“Teammates and ..?” He raises a brow.

“And ..?” You raise an eyebrow back.

“Friends, Y/N, we’re friends.” A twinge of annoyance flashes across his face.

“Oh,” you cross your arms over your chest. “So now you want to be friends?” His features soften, the veil of annoyance stripped away at your words.

“Look, Y/N-“

“We do not need to have this conversation right now.” You take a quick glance around the hidden second floor hallway of the racing headquarters, thankful for all the attention being drawn to another level of the facility for the day. The more you thought about it, the more you didn’t want to have that conversation at all. Max rejected you. Then continued to act like nothing had happened, other than choosing to keep you at more than arms length away for the rest of your youth.

You had been heartbroken, yes. But overall, it hurt more that you lost a friend.

The longer you stand there, so close but still so far from him, the more you start to believe that being teammates with him will only make things between you worse. You’ve managed to stay civil, exchange encouraging words at times but, that was it. It could have been so much more. But, he made it clear it never would be.

When you turn to walk away, a hand claps around your own.

“I think we do.” Max closes the small gap of space you extended when you went to leave. “I’ve thought about it, for so long. And I’ve prepared-“

“You prepared?” You raise your eyebrows with a mix of amusement and horror.

Max just shrugs. “Always good to be prepared”

“Right, well ..” You don’t give him a chance to continue with whatever he prepared to say to you if this moment ever arose. You can’t imagine he would somehow manage to break your heart again but, you certainly won’t be offering him the opportunity on a silver platter.

“It doesn’t matter what car I’ll be in,” you continue, tilting your chin up at him “or what you are to me, a teammate, a friend … I’m prepared to kick your ass this season. See you on the track.”

You step around him and make your way back toward your team, faintly hearing (and completely ignoring) Max mutter something along the lines of ‘we have to train together before that though’.

Conversation over.

——

You should have known right away that this wasn’t going to end well. When you took a glance around the group and realized you were alone in a circle made up of older, white, rich men, you should have known where this would head. Maybe you did, realization sat heavy in your stomach like a stone, but you chose to ignore the gut feeling. You chose to tuck your shoulders back, straighten up and plaster on that smile. That smile reserved for these kinds of men, the sweet and innocent and ever so fake smile.

“I don’t suppose you could share with us how you pulled this one off?” A deep, grainy voice has you blinking away the glaze that was coating your eyeballs.

“Sorry?” You clear your throat, still blinking rapidly in the direction. You try your best to ignore the rise of the man’s eyebrows, the presumptuous gaze he holds over you.

“How did you manage to secure the seat with Red Bull Racing?”

The strung out smile across your lips falters, you feel your muscles twitch downward involuntarily. A quick glance around the circle has your face falling more, you hold the genuine attention of all these men surrounding you. They’re curious to know too. Isn’t it obvious though? You earned the seat through hard work and good results for Red Bulls sister team, your talent spoke for itself.

Didn’t it?

“Well, I assume based on what Christian has said, that it was because they saw potential in me. They believe that I could win a WDC.” You make an effort to keep your voice strong and sturdy under the heavy weight of their stares. A chuckle brakes out amongst some of them, a light and short burst of amusement. Like they know something you don’t.

“You don’t suppose it’s because you’re a woman?”

“A-“ your voice cracks then, the pressures mounting mounting mounting and you can feel its crushing power against your throat. “A woman?”

Another chuckle.

“That’s what you are dear, correct? You certainly look like one.” His gaze drops down your body quickly then slithers its way up and you’ve never been so mad about looking so good. At the beginning of the night, when you shimmied that tight dress on, the one that hugged your curves, extenuated your best features, made you feel beautiful, you knew you looked good.

Now, all you feel is wrong.

“Yes, I am.” Your face burns, so much that you have to physically stop yourself from pressing the cold glass of champagne you’re clutching to your cheeks. “And why would that matter?”

“Sweetheart.” the man tsked and shook his head.

“One would think Red Bull may see it as an advantage. To draw attention. To create a spectacle.”

“You know, sponsorships, brand deals, reputation, matters almost as much as racing results. Maybe even more.”

“With a female driver, Red Bull is basically opening up the doors to infinitely more financial opportunities.”

“It’s not like they need help winning races, not with Max showing the promise that he is.”

“Did you really think the reason was different from simply that?”

They were all speaking now, different voices, different insults, all being fired off from one mouth to the next all in your direction. All of it, all of those words and the different tones they spoke in, boiled down to one simple message: it was never about your driving. And it never would be.

This misogyny is not new. This sexist attitude toward women in Motorsport doesn’t sting like the fresh cut of a blade against your skin. Instead it aches and burns like a deep wound that’s never healed quite right. One that every time it’s pressed, reminds you of the pain of experiencing it for the first time.

You can’t let these words burrow into your skin no matter how strong and sharp are. Not when you’ve spent the past year fighting in the trenches to prove that you’re just as fast as any man in a Formula 1 car. You are more than your face and curves and your gender. You are your heart and your brain and your skill.

You can believe it all you want yet, somehow believing that no one else ever will hurts more.

“And why can’t it be both?” You hear yourself asking this group of men, these so called supporters of your team. “Why can’t I bring Red Bull good publicity and win them races? Why because I have long hair and prefer to have my nails painted does that make a difference? Why because I have a vagina does it mean I can’t be capable of having that kind of success?”

You’re panting now, you hadn’t meant to say any of that, let along raise your voice while spilling it out.

“Oh God ..” you breathe, still trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry, I-“ you break off in another small gasp, words suddenly appear foreign and jumbled in your brain. As the silent seconds tick by, the darker your vision and your thoughts and your future become.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter one last time before you bolt.

The path to the exit is nearly clear, only a few bodies hang in the space between you and the fresh air you desperately need. The chatter and commotion of everyone else in the venue is nothing more than background noice to the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears. You aren’t paying attention to anyone or anything other than escape, you certainly aren’t hearing the calls of your name from close behind your heels. It’s only when a firm hand catches your elbow, halting you in place, does reality suddenly shift back into view.

“Where are you going?” Liz’s normally warm tone feels like ice against your skin. You knew she’d be pissed if she thought you were trying to ditch, especially with all the responsibilities you hold tonight, especially when you promised her you’d find her if you needed an out. This definitely looks bad, you can tell by the way her features are taut when you turn to face her. It is bad but, you can’t let her know that.

“Just need some air. I’ll be back, I swear.” You can tell the sentiment passes directly through her. She only crosses her arms in response. “It’s the truth!”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“Nothing!”

“Y/N-“

“Liz, please!” You snap your mouth closed after the sound of your plea echoes around you. Again, you hadn’t meant to raise your voice but, the emotion is clawing its way up your throat, desperate for an out. “I can’t be here right now.” You say in a much quieter, not at all composed tone.

“You have to be here. This is your job.” Liz keeps her voice lowered too but, it holds no softness, only a distinct sharpness you’ve become accustomed to understanding meant nothing but business. Liz is a woman but, she is not a coddler. She is not a mother who rocks and hushes, she’s a competitor who will pry and push because she knows it’s exactly what you need to succeed.

Look where she’s gotten you.

“Don’t you think I know that?” You step closer, holding a hand against your heart beating rapidly inside your chest. “But I can’t stand around and try to convince these people I’m someone that I’m not.”

“No one is asking you to do that.” Liz’s face softens, sympathy bleeds through the cracks of her tough facade.

“Of course they are. Smile pretty but, don’t be too bold or else you’ll seem too cocky. Act innocent but, not too innocent or else you’ll seem naive. Show some skin but, not too much or else you’ll be asking for it. When had a man ever been accused of any of those things?”

“You wanted this, Y/N. To be a woman in Motorsport, to show everyone that gender doesn’t matter. That anyone can drive if they have the determination to do so.”

“Yes, I wanted to drive. Not to play pet. I am me and it is becoming alertly clear that’s not enough.” Your fist clenches so tightly at your side, you can feel the half moons your nails are pressing into your skin draw blood. All of whatever face Liz puts on during work hours has disintegrated into a look of pain and understanding.

“Go,” she motions to the door only a few feet from you two “be back before your speech.” You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and turn for the exit. “But, Y/N.” You look over your shoulder. “Know that you will always be good enough to me.”

——

“30 minutes in and you’re already trying to make a run for it.” Max’s familiar voice startles you slightly. You spin around to see him sauntering his way over with an easy grin, looking effortless good in his suit. For a split second, you let the sight melt your frozen core. Then as soon as the split second passes, it’s frosted over again. Because of course everything is so effortlessly easy for Verstappen.

“I wish.” You grumble, turning yourself back around to the view of the lake under the glowing moon. “I just needed some air.”

“Mind some company?” His voice is much closer now, just over your shoulder. You suppress a shudder under his presence, the warmth of his body heat close to your own.

The truth is that yes, you do mind company. In this moment, you want to be alone. You want to wallow and sulk and maybe cry until it’s all out of your system, until you can confidently walk back into the venue with your head held high and your confidence back where it should be.

But you can’t get yourself to form the words to tell him to leave. Instead, you find yourself shrugging, feigning indifference.

“Won’t they miss you in there?” You ask after a few seconds of nothing passed between you two other than the breeze shaking the bare branches of the trees around the water.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Max replies, both of your bodies stay facing forward. The wind picks up, brushing some hair off your shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its chilly wake.

“I doubt it.” You glance towards Max just in time to catch his eyes darting away from you, away from your skin. The goosebumps certainly do not go away after that.

When Max’s gaze find its way back to yours, you don’t shy away from holding his eye. Something has come loose inside you, a bolt or a screw jarred of its axis by those men in suits who talk as if they truly know you. Normally, you wouldn’t let yourself bask in the light and warmth of Max’s stare, you’d ignore any pulse of feeling that grew stronger in moments of closeness like this. There’s a reason why there’s been so far and few since that night all that time ago.

Tonight, you find your walls already cracked, already unsteady. They’re breaking and it’s dangerous and you know that. Yet, you stand in front of him and hold his eyes and feel the vulnerability threaten to shatter you.

“Can I ask you something? And can you be completely honest in your answer?” You lower your voice, keep it soft like the words passing between you are too fragile to be spoken at a loud volume.

“Of course.” If Max is uncomfortable with the eye contact you’ve maintained, he doesn’t show it. Instead he draws his head a little closer, listening intently.

“Why do you think Red Bull asked me to take the open seat?”

Confusion twists his features, his eyebrows pull in, his noice scrunches slightly. He doesn’t answer right away and you can feel yourself, in those fleeting seconds of silence, regretting asking him at all. It must make you seem weak to not have an unshakeable sense of confidence in who you are. It must make you seem foolish to seek the validation of your future teammate who, when it comes down to it, will be your fiercest competitor on the grid.

“Because you’re an amazing driver.” Max says, like it’s obvious, like that was the easiest question he’s ever been asked. And you can’t deny the rush of affection mixed with relief churning in your chest at the response.

“Am I?” You whisper, your voice hallow and weak against the strength of the winter wind. Max’s face softens before he reaches a hand out to touch your shoulder. “Don’t answer that.” You step away, down closer to the edge of the water. You can’t let him touch you, you can’t let him look at you with empathy and care and something else you can’t quite place. If you do, you’ll break.

Why are you doing this? Why are you allowing yourself to spiral down this hole when you have dug and dug and dug until your hands were raw and your fingers bled, until you were finally on an even playing field? This can’t be how your stint at Red Bull Racing starts, this infection of self doubt with do nothing but spread until it’s taken you whole.

“Y/N ..” You hear the crunch of Max’s dress shoes under the dead grass behind you moving closer. Enough of this. Enough of drowning in this feeling of uncertainty, it’s time to sink or swim.

“I am a woman.” You spin around quickly toward Max. He blinks in surprise as he pulls his hand back down to his side.

“Yes, you are?”

“And I am a great driver.” You have to stop yourself from stomping your heel into the ground.

“Yes, you are.” The corners of his mouth turn up, just the slightest bit.

“And those two facts can coexist.” You feel your mouth curving up too though you don’t mean to do it. “And Red Bull can want me because I am both a woman who is paving a path for other women to be in Formula 1 and because I can win races and become a World Drivers Champion even if it means beating you!”

Max’s eyebrows are raised, his lips pressing themselves into a thin line, and you can tell he’s fighting for his life against a rush of laughter threatening to spill out at your little burst. But he doesn’t laugh, he just nods and breaks out a wide grin.

“I will gladly agree with you and accept that challenge.”

You tilt your head to the night sky, releasing all the tension in your shoulders and sign. It feels good to get it out, to speak a truth you know so deeply in your bones. You belong here. And it certainly doesn’t hurt to have Max there, standing by you, agreeing with you.

One thing you know about Max is that he doesn’t do something unless he truly means it. He’s fiercely loyal, honest to a point of almost rudeness but, reliable in a way that feels safe. What you see is what you get.

Maybe that’s why it hurt so much when he told you he didn’t want you that night. Because as you knew all too well, Max doesn’t do something unless he truly meant it.

That doesn’t matter now, though. The time for mourning the possibility of something between you has come and gone. A new era is upon you two, one of teamwork, possibly friendship. Something that could turn out great.

Or so terribly bad.

——

The crowd of the gala and their loud conversing was unchanged when you return into the venue, almost as if your absence didn’t send everyone into a discombobulated frenzy. What a shame. Regardless, you and Max blend seamlessly back into the masses just minutes before you’re supposed to make your speech.

The lingering chill of the winter weather clings to your skin even inside the warm venue, surrounded by the heat of bodies and laughter and booze. Even as the seconds tick by, you shake underneath the silk of your dress. It would probably be proper of you to admit that what you’re feeling is not cold but, rather dread from knowing what’s to come.

There are a lot of people in the room. A lot of important people who should mean a lot and do mean a lot to you and your team. Some of which had already heard plenty from you tonight. But, that doesn’t matter now. This is a new chance, a fresh opportunity, to show everyone that whatever preconceived notion about you they have was wrong.

“Où étais-tu toute la nuit?” Where have you been all night? Arms wrap themselves around your shoulders from behind, pulling you back into a sturdy chest. One small inhale of a familiar spicy scent is enough to have you melting back into him, into the comfort of his hold. Pierre’s love language is touch, you found that out quickly after joining Toro Rosso.

“Why are you so cold? You’re shaking.” He murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down your bare arms.

“I was outside with ..” You turn your head back toward where Max is, or was, only to see his back retreating away toward a group of people on the other side of the room.

“With Max? And you did not manage to kill him? I am proud of you.” Pierre smirks as you look back at him, causing you to roll your eyes and playfully smack his arm.

“I’m as surprised as you are.” You chew on your bottom lips as the moments you spent alone outside with Max flash through your mind. “It was actually kind of … nice.”

“Wow, who are you and what have you done with my friend?” Pierre raises a brow and takes a cautious step backward, as if you’re suddenly contagious.

The confusion of what happened outside mixed with the anxiousness of your impending speech is brewing into a dangerous concoction inside you.

“I’m nervous.” You tell Pierre in a quieter, more serious tone. You didn’t want to talk about Max anymore or whatever transpired between you.

“You’ll be brilliant.” Pierre’s smirk dampens down to a sweet smile.

“Everyone expects something different from me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or who I’m supposed to be to please everyone.” You grit your teeth against the feeling of a fresh well of tears gathering in your eyes.

“Mon ange,” Pierre rests a hand on your arm, squeezing it gently “you do not have to be anyone but yourself. That is plenty good enough.” You place your hand on top of his, hoping the contact will allow you to transfer the words from his mind directly into your bloodstream.

“What am I going to do without you next season?” You chuckle softly, blinking back tears for an entirely different reason now. You and Pierre’s friendship has blossomed during your time at Toro Rosso. Though you know you’ll always still mean something to each other, to not have his constant support and companionship will feel like a brutal punishment you don’t deserve.

“Oh, mon ange, you will most certainly suffer greatly. And I will be sure to blow you a kiss as I pass you on the track in your fancy new Red Bull car.”

You’re about to bite back with a grin on your face when you hear the distinct sound of feedback from the microphone on the stage. All of the fear lingering inside you swarms up your body and settles in your chest. Pierre rests a gentle hand on the small of your back as your attention is drawn to the front. It’s time.

Somehow, by way of a miracle, you manage not to hurl on your shoes while you patiently wait and watch the various presidents and CEOs of sponsors speak. They express their love for Red Bull, their appreciation to be a part of the organization and their excitement with their investments in the teams future. Which you happen to be a very big part of. God, you might just crumble up and die at this point. Can you really do this?

“Thank you, everyone again for all of your commitment to our program, to the members of our team.” Christian Horner smiles against the microphone and holds a stage presence like no other. You desperately wish you knew his secret, his key to appearing ever cool and confident. Maybe too confident.

“As the Team Principle for Red Bull Racing, I cannot be more excited for what’s to come. I know I say that before the start of every season but, this time I really mean it!” Laughs radiate through the venue. “No really, we have a great engineering team building us a race winning car and a driver lineup that can undoubtably deliver us results. In fact, we are introducing a new driver to our team this year. Up from our sister team, Toro Rosso, this driver has significant potential. We’ve seen her do brilliant things in her rookie year and look forward to standing by her when she accomplishes more in a Red Bull Racing car. Everyone, please extend a warm welcome to our newest driver, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The steady, loud sound of clapping and cheering surrounds you on all sides. Some turn to face you, Pierre included, his own prideful smile in place as he applauds you. You send him one last grateful look before navigating your way through the crowd toward the stage. You keep your hands in fists by your side, holding the shivers of nerves and to your surprise, excitement, at bay.

Christen extends a hand and helps you step up the small steps toward the stage. With a deep breath, you take the microphone from his hold with a smile. Christen offers you one back with a small nod before stepping to the side, letting the lights pointing on the stage swallow you and only you whole. Behind the glaring yellow light, you can hardly make out the faces of the crowd but, in the back of your mind you’re reminded of just how many faces there are, their focus solely on you.

“Thank you Christian for your kind words. And thank you to everybody at Red Bull who believed in me enough to offer me this opportunity. I could not be more grateful to be here. I think it goes without saying but, I’ve wanted to drive a Formula 1 car for as long as I can remember. And to now be given the chance to do so with such a legendary team, I’m honored.” You adjust your slick palms on the mic and take another breath.

“I am not the first female Formula 1 driver. There have been many amazing women to proceed me in this sport and I would not be here if it were not for them. If I hadn’t gone to the tracks as a kid and saw girls racing among all those boys or turned on the TV and saw women racing, and winning, against those men, I would not have believed it was possible for me to do the same. Yet, here I am. Every time I sit in one of these cars, I picture myself as a child, I think about who I saw, who showed me what I could achieve. I hope that if nothing else comes of my time at Red Bull, of my time in Formula 1, that I at least continue to pave that path for females in Motorsport the way they have paved the path for me.”

“Being a woman does not put me at a disadvantage. It is the way that women are perceived that changes the way I have to act, the way I have to race, the person I am allowed to be. I always have and always will be proud to be a female in this sport, hopefully changing the future. But, above all else, I am a race care driver. And I’m thrilled to now be a driver for Red Bull Racing. Thank you.”

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @opium-den @honethatty12 @sabrilad @idkiwantchocolatee @revengze @lawwwy @storyteller-le @butterflyydancestuff @indieclarke (if for some reason the tag didn’t work, sorry!)

#formula one #f1 #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #mv1 #red bull racing #f1 x you #max verstappen x you

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slaytheprofessor · 5 months ago

Text

"Well..." You exhale. "If he doesn't really know what he's doing, maybe I can talk with him. See if he'll see reason."

The Guide: ...

The Guide: You can certainly try.

Voice of the Rebel: Oooh. Just got chills.

Voice of the Researcher: *mutters* Oh my god.

The Guide: You head down the street in the right direction. You know instinctively where to turn, which signs to follow, which landmarks to look out for.

The Guide: Finally, you are standing in front of the library---a small, one-story space sandwiched between two taller buildings. The windows are boarded up, and a closed sign is hanging in the door.

Voice of the Rebel: Okay, so... do we, like, smash the window, reach in, and open it from the inside, then? Or do we just kick the door down?

Voice of the Researcher: Have you considered, oh, I dunno, just opening the door? It might not even be locked.

Voice of the Rebel: Uh, it's closed. That usually means that it's locked.

The Guide: Maybe attempt to open it before engaging in destruction of property?

Voice of the Rebel: Thought you said this place was abandoned, big guy! There's nobody to make a fuss if we do a little B&E action, right?

Voice of the Researcher: I've decided that I don't like you.

Voice of the Rebel: *singsong* Ask me if I care! Teacher's pet.

Voice of the Researcher: Hey, Guide, can I punch---

The Guide: No.

The Guide: And, by the way... the professor is, by nature, a clever man. He will lie, he will cheat, and he will do everything in his power to stop you from killing him.

The Guide: You can reason with him, if you want. But I would keep your guard up. And I wouldn't be quick to trust him.

Voice of the Researcher: We're still hearing him out.

The Guide: Yes, I know. You've made that clear.

You cross the street and open the door to the library, the creaking of the door and the ringing of a little bell sounding as you do. And when you step inside...

The voices in your head are quiet for a minute.

Voice of the Researcher: Okay, uh... what the hell am I looking at right now?

The Guide: *completely and utterly befuddled* The... the library is a patchwork of so many different libraries, blended together in an ill-fitting design that seems on the verge of falling apart. Is it an office space? Is it the interior of a cave? Is it a waiting room? Is it a lab? Is it a workshop?

The Guide: The library is all of them, and they are all the library. The only thing that's clear---the only thing that makes sense---is a pristine blade, perched on a desk that resembles an impossible object drawing more than a real, tangible thing.

The Guide: The blade is your implement. I wouldn't recommend going down there without it.

Voice of the Rebel: No coffee shop? Booooo.

Voice of the Researcher: We're standing in the middle of a fever dream, and you're worried about coffee?!

Voice of the Rebel: I mean, I obviously don't need to worry about edibles, seeing how trippy this place is. *laugh-snorts* Fuck me, I feel high already! Forget the coffee bar, this place rocks!

You allow yourself to ignore the fact that there is, apparently, a part of you that enjoys taking psychedelics. Because as confusing as this place is, the Guide has neglected to mention one thing.

Hovering above the wall next to the door---and it must be hovering, since nothing fits right in this place---is a mirror. Made of black glass.

#slay the princess #slay the professor au #the shifting mound #the long quiet #stp princess #stp the razor #if the narrator is a railroading dm then the guide is the dm who really wants you to get somewhere but will still deal with your crazy bs #maybe he's voiced by matt mercer idk #he's still british in my mind tho

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small-sinclair · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! I saw you posted the A/B/O prompt list, so I bring you

“I got into some trouble today. I sort of punched an Alpha in the face when he touched me. Long story short, there’s a couple of officers at the door who would like to talk to you about getting control of your Omega.”

With Bo Sinclair, he obviously is all like “I’ll teach them a lesson!” To the officers but as soon as that door shuts it’s praise and kisses to the reader (reader can be gn)

Thank you for being my first ask! :D Never wrote for an a/b/o prompt, but I think this turned out well!

Alpha!Bo x gn!y/n

Tw: hints of sexual assault, strong words, mentions of past abuser

Tarts and Swears

"Let me talk to him? Please--"

"Those Sinclair boys should keep you on a leash."

As much as you wanted to snap at the officer, you knew that you were in more trouble than you wanted. It's not your fault that you're in this mess! Clearly, the other Alpha knew you were claimed by the ungodly amount of marks on your neck and shoulders. Shit, everyone could see them when you were in town to get fresh fruits for that fruit tart you promised to make for Bo and Vincent! You always bragged about it, and, because he's such a star, you were able to go to town to get the items for the tart. You made sure to were a cute shoulder flare shirt with strawberries on it (Bo's favorite fruit), and a list with everything you need. Yes, you never leave Ambrose without Lester, but you promised Bo you'll be careful! You promised...

Now, you're coming home in the back of a cop car with your bike tied to the roof, knee scrapped, and your favorite shoulder shirt dirtied and ripped. It'll take more than Dawn soap and a good wash to get the mud stains out. But the worst part? You didn't even get the chance to buy anything for the tarts!

"Just let me talk to him," you said in a sigh. "I think it'll be best if he hears it from me." You felt so defeated as you stepped out of the back of the squad car, the bruised Alpha stepping out of his truck. Gods, what a sleaze ball. He was the one that cornered you and tried to--

Swallowing hard, you raised a hand to the door and opened to go inside, officers following in along with the Alpha.

"Bo?" You called, noticing the T.V. on in the den and the smell of something spicy in the kitchen. Vincent must be cooking chili tonight. "Honeycomb?"

From above, boots patter on the wood and a shadow cast down the steps, getting closer and closer, until your Alpha stopped halfway on the landing. Though you've seen him many time ins his work uniform, seeing the sleeves tied at his hips and white, greased stain shirt underneath made his sweaty curls glow like a halo made from mud and oil. Confused eyes glossed over the two officers then the blue eyes lit in flames when he saw the unknown Alpha in his living room. You thought you heard a low growl coming from him, but it might be the wooden steps as he stomped down, fists falling tightly until his knuckles turned white. You could feel the other Alpha smirk at this, his ego growing bigger by the minute.

You left your spot and stood between the officers and Bo, your hands slipping onto his chest. You could smell the anger boiling over as his eyes snapped down at you then at the officers. Over his shoulder, you saw Vincent stick his head around the corner. He leaned against the doorway to watch the show (or step in if things get out of control).

You cleared your throat and said nervously, “I got into some trouble today."

Bo scuffed. He might've as well punched you. "I can fuckin' see 'at."

"I sort of punched an Alpha in the face when he touched me." You breathed out, touching his arm. You felt his energy shift as when he noticed your hurt knee and torn shirt. Before he could get a word in, you said, "Long story short, there’s a couple of officers at the door who would like to talk to you about getting control of your Omega.”

Vincent stiffened as soon as he smelt the scent of the other Alpha on you, and he could see where his hands were. He clinched his jaw tightly as his lone eyes glared at the man, who was being guarded by the two officers. Bo caught on as if he could read Vincent's thoughts, and, oh, how he hated the smell.

Icy blue eyes look up from you to the officers. "'S true, Andrew?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Andrew (the one on the right, the smaller one with no wedding ring) answered. "Dustin says he got hurt by 'em. Gotta control 'em, Sinclair."

Bo bit his lower lip and looked at his brother, who was gripping his sweatshirt a little too tight. "Yer tellin' me 'at my little darlin'," he pushed you to the side as gently as he could, but he was firm, "hurt him? Are we talkin' 'bout the same Omega, right?" He then gestures to you in disbelief. "I mean, look at 'em! Pool noodles for arms and damn chicken legs. Wha' happened? They barked at ya wrong?" Bo didn't mean to laugh, but it was just so damn funny to him! How could a little thing like you do any harm? He could tell there was a lie somewhere, but this is an Alpha's world, and an Omega's word means nothing.

"Just want an apology, Sinclair," the Alpha--Dustin--said. "'At's all I want."

"Ya ain't getting it," Bo answered, crossing his arms. "I only smell you on 'em." Then he took a deep breath, narrowing your scent in the air. It traveled around the officers to Dustin's bruised cheek. You did a beautiful right hook, but he didn't show his pride for you. "Not the other way around."

Andrew shifted his weight, uncomfortable with all of this. This was wrong, all of it! He's known Bo since kindergarten, and they shared snacks and math test answers throughout high school! Yeah, he and his twin are a bit out there, but who wasn't it? He promised to be lawful and right for all, and here he was. This was eating him from the inside out, and you almost felt sorry for him.

But if he wants to stay in the den, stay in the little pack who took him in no matter the methods, he has to follow the rules like a good dog. A good boy... just like his mother told him when he learned about this world. "You can say it an' not mean it?"

"Andrew--"

"Arron, we're 'n someone else's home askin' fer an apology fer something that-- the Omega had every right to hit 'im! An' ya know 'at!" Look at that... Andrew found his voice for the first time.

You look between him and the others, Bo stepping in front of you as if there was going to be blood shed. You closed your eyes as you gripped the back of Bo's shirt, letting out a low whine just for him to hear. You wanted this to be over and done with. Yo knew you'll be locked forever and never be left free. You'll be chained to the floor as punishment like by the Alpha before. The things your Alpha before did to you was enough to make Bo's stomach flip.

Bo's shoulder straightened. "Andrew," he said firmly. "Don't worry. I'll teach 'em a lesson on manners." Your heart shattered. But... but you were so good. He saw what happened! Shit, he could smell it from two miles away! "As fer you," he nodded at Dustin, "git off my lan' an' never look back."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Then keep that thing on a leash."

Bo bit down hard on his teeth as he watched the officers leave. "Vincent," Bo said, his voice making you jump. "Go get y/n's bike off the car."

As Vincent past him, he stopped and looked between you and Bo, who gave a silent nod on not letting Dustin leave this town. He wanted him alive. Breathing. Just so he could take all of that away.

Andrew was the last to leave, his green eyes cast down at the wooden floors. "'M sorry, Bo."

"It'll be fine," Bo answered. He stayed firm but... "I hope ya fin' yer path, Andy."

Andrew swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Alpha." he closed the door behind him, leaving you and Bo alone.

The house never felt so silent until now, and you wait for him to start yelling, to call you careless and a disappointment, asking you if you knew better or not. You wait for the sting of a hand to cross your face like the Alpha before him did, and you flinched when he turned to face you. His shadow towered over you like raves over the dead, and you might as well be dead. You had a good run at being alive in this town. You've been running on barrow time in a town known for time limits. As you felt a hand lift your head, you didn't realize you were crying as you looked at your Alpha.

"Y/n?" It was just you and Bo... why do you feel like eyes are watching your next moves. "Sweetie-belle, did he push ya? Hurt ya?"

You found yourself nodding. "I-I was so scared, Bo," you didn't mean to sound so pathetic, cringing at your own voice. "I-I said no but he didn't--" You finally broke as you feel into his chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively, tight and warm. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Bo--!"

"Shh, shh, darlin'," he whispered, rubbing your back in gentle circles. "Ya did good. You stood yer' ground an' fought back jus' how Vince and I taught ya." He kissed the crown of your head. "You did so well."

"But-but the tarts--"

"Those can wait another day, yeah?" He finished. He had you look up at him, a hand brushing the tears away. "Ya did so well with standing your ground." You never seen how warm a smile could be until you met Bo Sinclair. How safe and protected you were when he and Vincent are around. "'M so proud of you, y/n." He lowered his head and stole a gentle kiss from your lips, tasting faint cigarette and mint.

He searched your eyes, his ocean blue eyes mixing with a bright hazel nut and gold. He kissed you again, deepening it this time, holding you as if you were going to fade from his arms like dust if he ever let go. He should've been more careful with you, more protective and went with you. Seeing you hurt, knees scrapped and perfect skin damaged was enough to drive him, but to hear you apologize through tears as if it was your fault? Ambrose has seen blood shed before, but it'll see Hell cracking underneath the church floors after he's done with Dustin. Putting you on a leash? Where does this prick get off?

And I bet he ever ruined your favorite shirt, y/n, he thought bitterly to himself.

He pulls away from your lips and let you nuzzle into his neck. "I swear, darlin', you'll never see him again." His grip tights around you. "I swear to you."

#bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #bo sinclair x gn reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x gn reader #vincent sinclair x gender neutral reader #house of wax fanfic #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #house of wax (2005)#house of wax fanfiction #alpha!bo sinclair x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher au

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ike-bana · 2 years ago

Text

Fragments (Dabi x reader)

Pairing : Dabi x fem! reader

words: 1.9K

Genre: Angst

Content warning : Toxic relationships/unhealthy relationships, arguments, alcohol use, smoking,angst,mentions of abuse, swearing, mentions of violence,pregnancy,mature/adult themes,no clear spoliers except you squint really hard,manupilation(if you squint). Minors DNI

Summary: All that's left of your relationship were tiny fragments, tiny little fragments you were trying to put back together yet even you were reaching your limit.

Songs to set the mood: Been like this by Doja cat / I hate everything about you by three days grace. If you have your own playlist,it's fine as well!

A/N: I was in a angsty mood and this came up so suffer or enjoy whichever. I also used the British past tense of burn cause that's what I use. I view the reader as female but I don't think gender was stated here so do with that what you wish

You sat there on the cold tiled floor as your back was leaning on the kitchen wall. You covered your face with your trembling tear stained hands. Your eyes were red and puffy and your head was throbbing. Your body was worn and weary from all the crying that you could no longer let out a proper sob. You let out a shaky sigh as you were terribly exhausted. This wasn't new to you, you were used to situations like this, often times you'd lock yourself in the bathroom hugging yourself and sobbing uncontrollably until he calmed down. It wasn't like it was an uncommon occurrence .All couples fought at some point in their relationships,it was always bound to happen

but damn, this was the fifth time this week.

You folded your legs under your thighs in a cross-legged fashion kicking a ceramic shard in the process. That was your brand new plate you got for 20% off at the store

or at least what was left of it.

You scanned the kitchen carefully, taking in the blatant state of complete disarray. Broken plates and cups flooded the room ,chairs toppled over and one of the table's legs had come off, knocking it off balance. you had to replace the good as damaged piece of furniture the next time you went shopping. As saddened as you were,a small part of you was grateful he didn't burn the place down with his quirk.You knew very well what he was capable of and you wouldn't stand a chance with your subpar quirk. You could turn small items into powder. It couldn't be used against people or animals and it wouldn't work on anything larger than small notepad.You wouldn't want to call it useless as it has helped you quit the number of times but you knew it couldn't hold a candle to your boyfriend's flame quirk.

You grimaced as you heard a blunt being lit in the next room followed by the clanging of bottles from the cabinet. His usual routine after a fight like this, you could count the number of times you had told him to stop but he'd always snap at you so you gave up trying. It helped him keep calm since he couldn't burn the place down. He had never raised his hand against you,something you were once again grateful for but he almost burnt you with his quirk.Almost. It was just that one time and he apologized. That was what you kept telling yourself. Dabi did indeed apologize and he went above and beyond to make it up to you both physically and emotionally,in more ways than one.

"Y/N"

your train of thought was disrupted as you heard him call your name,you were so deep in thought that you didn't even notice him come in. You stood up from the kitchen floor abruptly and dusted your skirt. He stood there towering over you with a cigarette between his middle and pointer finger and a rocks glass on the same hand.

"Y-yes" you stuttered trying so hard to fix your composure but failing woefully.

"Get out" He said plainly and clearly

"what?"

You stared on in disbelief ,your lips parting slightly gripping the hem of your shirt tightly , tears long and forgotten threatened to repeat their cycle.

"Don't make me repeat myself"

"B- But Dabi I live here,I paid for this place "

He had moved in with you a couple of months ago after you insisted. Although he wasn't always around due to his work in the league,he did stop by and sleep over. He deemed it unnecessary seeing as he already stayed a couple of nights and slept in your bed. You said you just wanted to feel closer to him so you urged him to move all his belongings here

"Fine , guess I'll leave" He stormed out of the small building, slamming the door in the process.

The sobs came out naturally and the salty tears like the gushing waters of Niagara falls. where did it all go wrong?.Oh you wanted to fix this so badly but what more could you do?.

You used to be so happy together,so,so normal. But now everything was all in shambles. All you had done was call him out on his secrecy and urged him to be more open and honest with you. you knew he was hiding something about himself. Instead of being calm and understanding he snapped at you and this led to a full on world war 2 in your kitchen

You leaned your back against the wall and slid down to the floor. You let yourself cry once more but now with less restraint. You sobbed,sniffiled and whimpered until nothing came out. You don't know how long you sat there but you were sure hours had past. You couldn't properly tell as it had already been dark out long ago. You couldn't do this anymore,you loved Dabi with all your heart as strange as it was. You don't know what exactly attracted you to the raven haired villain.Whether it was his bad boy persona or the undeniable urge you had to "fix" him, you could never tell. But love works in strange ways. That's why it was hard for you to do this but you had to end this. For your sake and theirs

Gathering the last ounces of strength, you had left in you,you stood up from the floor,stumbling slightly. You walked into your shared bedroom and pulled out a black duffel bag from the closet drawer by the door. You took every item of clothing he owned and hurriedly folded them into the bag. Knowing him,he probably wouldn't be back till the next day or week,it was impossible to predict. But either way it gave you enough time to prepare yourself. You didn't know how he was going to take this but you had to stand your ground,you weren't going to take this lying down.

And just like that as if fate was trying to play some cruel sick joke on you,the door flung open and Dabi came sauntering into the bedroom.

"Listen Y/N I-"

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him looking like a deer caught in headlights , clinging desperately to the black t-shirt you held in your hands. He looked you over,carefully processing what was going on. He narrowed his sapphire eyes and clenched his fists tightly

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked surprisingly calm

"Dabi,I'm tired. I can't do this anymore. I'm done" you managed to let out

Just as that was said,he let out a warped hysterical laugh. A look of fear in accordance with pure confusion was evident on your face.You always knew your boyfriend was off his rocker but you weren't expecting him to react this way. Your lips were quivering and a chill ran up your spine.He calmed down and wiped the non-existent tears from his stapled eyes.

"You know what's funny? I came back all the way here to apologize and this is how you repay me"

"Dabi,I'm serious,we can't do this with you anymore" You finally found your voice once more although it didn't come out as assertive as you wanted it to.

" Wait,we? The fuck are ya talking about"

"I-" you paused.

You had managed to hide this for a span of two weeks now. He'd been going in and out lately so it made it a lot less tasking to conceal it. But now it seemed futile to keep this up any longer especially since he was putting you on the spot like this

" Dabi I" you exhaled

"Dabi I'm pregnant"

His face visibly softened when you told him that. He stared blankly at you as if you had grown a second head. You glanced at him when he hadn't said anything,his silence made you apprehensive. It wasn't something that was planned so it wouldn't surprise you if he was upset. You could have sworn you had used protection but alas these things do fail.

"Wait,are you serious?" He asked,forehead creased

"Yes,I am" you avoided his questioning gaze

What he had done next after had shocked you. He pulled you into a warm embrace. His charred hands combed through your strands of hair.

"I'm so happy,this is good news" His voice was muffled as he had buried his face on your shoulder

"Wait,what?"

"I said I'm happy Y/n,this is good news"

"No,I heard what you said,I'm just surprised that you're not upset"

"Why would I be upset?,you're carrying my kid in you"

You broke out of his embrace and stared at him with your eyebrows furrowed. You were confused as to who this man was and what he had done to your rather abrasive boyfriend

"Hey earth to Y/n" he waved his hand in front of your face

You gave him a hard look before glancing around the room like a patient with amnesia. Your eyes caught the half-open duffel bag that lay long forgotten on the floor. It was then that you recalled what had brought you to the bedroom in the first place .If he thinks you'd sweep that under the carpet then he had another thing coming.

"Babe,are you OK?. You look tense" he spoke up when you hadn't said anything casting you a worried look.

"Dabi,I'm glad that you're happy about this whole pregnancy and all but that doesn't erase what's going on. Having a baby doesn't make this situation suddenly resolved,we still need to end this"

The look he had given you was one you had never seen before. It was a perfect blend of remorse,anxiety,sadness and you could could have sworn you saw fear in the mix.Nothing like the scowls he had given you that night

"I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately and I know I've done nothing but fuck things up but please give me a chance" he had reached out a hand to you and placed it on your shoulder but you shrugged it off

" Dabi,shit isn't that easy,I've given you more chances then I could conceivably count. You've gotten even more aggressive than usual lately and it's concerning. I can't keep placing myself in this kind of toxic environment,it's not healthy for me or the baby"

Your back was turned away from him now.If he kept staring at you like that, you might change your mind. His broken expression made you want to run into his warm embrace and break down right there but you knew better than that.

"Y/N, come-come on let me fix this"

"No Dabi,you've done more than enough" You said bitterly looking down in regret

" OK Y/N,i know this is probably a joke and you got me good,I won't lie. Now stop playing around,I get it"

His forced chuckle made you grimace,he was being persistent and this was making it harder for you.

"Dabi,look if you don't leave then I'm afraid I have to"

You made your way over to the closed closet to pick out your clothes, passing over the discarded duffle bag on the floor. Before,you could fling the closet doors open,you felt a tight hug on your waist from behind. You wanted to protest,to shove him away from you but you knew he was stronger than you,so you just stood there. Dabi was never the clingy type so his actions made you perplexed but not as perplexed as the words that left his mouth not long after

"Please don't leave me,Don't take everything away from me,just like-just like they did"

what exactly did he mean by that?. His words made you further realize how little you truly knew about your villain boyfriend. He had never spoken of anything like this .But then again,he never spoke about himself or his past. That was part of the various reasons why you were even in this situation in the first place.This was definitely out of character for him so you wanted to press further

"Dabi, who is they? what are you talking about?"

"They took it all away from me,my life,my childhood. It was "his"fault,he did it to me. Please don't treat me like he did. Please you're all I have,you're the only person who could ever love me" He kept pleading keeping whoever he was talking about in question anonymous.

You had never seen him like this,it broke you to say the least. And just as if a fragile cord had snapped inside your brain,you let tears flow out once more that night,returning the villain's embrace. He sounded so distressed and you couldn't take this any longer. You weren't sure whether it was the hormones or a genuine sympathetic response that made you lose your resilience,but all you knew was you wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright.

"No Dabi I won't" *sniff*" I won't leave you" what were you thinking?,he needed you,you couldn't just leave him.

"Really?" He broke apart and gave you a crestfallen look.

"Yes Dabi.Really. We can work something out this time" you stroked his cheeks, devoid of skin and replaced by open flesh and staples.

His little rants had deeply concerned you but you knew you would have to pry about it some other time.

He dove back into your arms and squeezed you tightly,not enough to hurt you but it was still a tight grip. You returned his embrace and leftover tears fell from your eyes as you smiled.

" I promise you,you won't regret it" The staples near his cheeks rose as his lips formed a malevolent smirk

" You won't regret it at all"

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faghubby · 1 year ago

Text

wife, mother, whore

I laid on the bed I was so sore, and covered in cum. I just couldn't deny him anything. It had all started months ago. When I asked Paul to tell me his deepest darkest desire. I figured it would be wanting a threesome orsomething. But what he told me would change everything.

"Katie I would love to watch you with another man" he told me. I was floored.

"Like a threesome?" I asked.

"No, I want a man, or several to use you. Fuck you" he told me.

"Several?!" I repeated back surprised.

"You want to watch?" I asked.

"If you let me" he responded. He was now acting very meek." I know you don't get off with me" he added.

"OH baby I love you and that's not true" I assured him

"Yes it is, I know you fake it for me" I told her. He then kissed me gently from my neck down to just above my pussy.

"I would love to lick real men's cum off of your satisfied body" he told me then buried his head between my thighs. He always made me cum with his tounge. But he was right he had never made me cum during penatration. He came on his tounge. I pulled him up on top of me.

"Your turn" I smiled.

"It's okay, I know you don't want me" he said.

"That's not true baby, I love you" I kissed him. I would do anything for you.

"Before I met you, I was not experienced" he said.

"I know baby, you had only been with what was her name?" I kissed him I loved that about him.

"I never told you she never let me inside her" he told me. What I had married a virgim? . I laughed as he confessed.

" But you told me" I questioned.

"Yes we had sex, well kinda. She loved her pussy eaten" he started.

"Well we have that in common" I giggled.

"She would let me hump her while she wore panties" he continued "but never inside her, I knew she had lovers. I often tasted them when I went down on her." Now I was completely confused.

"I wonder if you would be willing to do the same?" He asked me. I pushed him off and got out of bed. I put on a pair of white satin panties. And came back to bed. Then stopped and thought about turned around and added a satin camisole.

"You like this?" I asked his hands caressed me. He climbed on top and dry humped me. Thru the panties and caressed my breast thru the satin material. I found the whole thing rather erotic. As he came all over my clean panties.

"Feel better now baby?" I asked he just snuggled against me his head resting on my chest.

In the morning I asked about last night, was it what he really wanted or was he just really horny.

"Yes, I would love it if you fucked our friends" I told her. This started a conversation on which ones. As he told me there was a clear pattern. All the guys he mentioned where in great shape. And bigger then his 5' 7".

The first thing we did was add, sex toys to our sex life. BIG ones. Paul loved to see me stretch as he slid a thick toy into me. He was quite happy with a hand job, or humping my panties. He especially loved humping my panties ass. I him try one of the smaller toys on my ass. And soon I was begging him to stuff toys in both holes. At the same time. One night I cried out so loud I woke our daughter. Paul went and got her back to sleep. As I recovered.

we had set me up on Tinder, so one night when I called and told him I would b home late from work. I was meeting someone.

"Can I play with myself" he asked. I was Abita taken back.

"No, I don't think so" I told him. I met this man at a hotel I was nervous as he opened the door. But a moment later I was naked kneeling innocent of him sucking his big cock.

He was everything Paul wasn't. Alot like most of my exboyfriends. Forceful, demanding, very much in charge and used to getting what he wanted.

He fucked my ass that first night. And called me names as he smacked my ass. It all turned me on so much. Knowing I would go home to Paul. Afterwards as I got dressed I told him how Paul wanted to watch but with our daughter it just made it hard. I also mentioned how he wanted men like him to use me. Even mentioned more then one.

"Well I have friends" he joked.

"Well if they all have cocks like yours" I smiled

"The name is John" by the way. He said

"Julia" I smiled "call me soon" as I left

At home Paul met me at the door. But Our daughter was still awake.

"You need to get someone to bed, or should I just take a shower. He pressed against me kissing me his hand slid into my pants.

"What are you doing" I laughed. As he bought out his hand and licked it. He really was going to eat this strangers cummout of me. I thought.

"Sorry sweety he came in my ass" I whispered in his ear. He looked like he would cry. I peaked around the corner our daughter was engrossed in a cartoon. I turned and pulled down my pants and panties in one motion.

"Unless you would like to eat my dirty ass" I said he dropped right in the front hall and licked my cum, lube covered asshole, I kept watch only allowing him a minute to enjoyIt. Then pulled my pants back up.

"I had a wonderful time" I said kissing him on the cheek. "Your breath smells like ass" I laughed and smacked his ass. As I headed to take a bath. I was in bed by the time Paul joined me again.

"So?" He asked cuddling up to me. He was looking for details.

"Not sure a virgin like you should hear such dirty things" I teased. I reached down and discovered he was naked. I stroked him.

"OH what a perverted little boy" I teased. "You are my perverted little virgin aren't you?" I teased. He came in my hand. I licked my finger then offered him my hand.

"Want some?" I asked he licked my hand clean. "My good little cum eater" he smiled and cuddled. I held him against my breast as I watched TV. We just sat and held each other.

"Paul is there anything else you like to tell me? Try prehaps?" I asked. My hand sliding down his back. He looked up at me.

"Your my virgin husband now, I may never let you inside me again" I told him. "Would you like that?"

He looked up with puppy dog eyes. My hand grabbed his ass. He didn't answer just kissed my breast. I knew at that moment our whole marriage had changed. In the morning I had him shower with me. I didn't say a word. I picked up my razor and shaved his pubic hair.

"Little virgin boys shouldn't have hair down there" I told him. He never hesitated just allowed me to do it. As we got out I looked him up and down. "Little boys don't have body hair" I told him as he watched me get dressed. He got dressed and went to get our daughter up.

I texted John thanking him for a lovely evening. Paul was making pancakes I came up and grabbed his ass.

"Such a good Daddy" I kissed him on the cheek. "I texted John, was hoping to see him again today" I told him. I reached around and felt him grow in his pants. Smiling to myself I went to play with our daughter. John texted

/Can we meet at your place?/

/of course, noon?/

/see you then/

"Paul why don't you two go to the zoo this afternoon?" I asked. Paul looked up at me

"That sounds like fun" he responded

"Mommy come too" our daughter asked

"Mommy has a play date with her friend" I told her. Paul packed a lunch and took off for the zoo before John came over.

As soon as I answered the door John was all over me. I was naked before we made it to the bedroom. Where I stripped him as well. He pushed me over the bed and drove his cock into my pussy with one stroke. He was balls deep. He fucked me hard. Smacking my ass. And calling me his whore. I heard someone else in the house. Then saw another guy walk into the bedroom.

"This is Tommy" John told me. Tommy pulled out his cock. It was huge like 10 inches long I thought he placed it right in front of my face. I took it in my mouth. John fucked me as Tom fed me his cock.

"This little slut has a no dick husband. She loves cock though" John told Tommy.

"She must be a total whore the way she can take my cock down her throat" Tommy replied they talked like I was just a thing for their pleasure, and that's how they treated me. I sucked both their cocks and had them both cum inside me before they left. I laid there wishing Paul was there to hold me. He arrived home shortly after they left.

"Where is" I moaned as he kissed me between my thighs.

"Sleeping" he told me. As he devoured the two men's cum from me. His gentle tounge made me cum again. When he finished I had him strip and lay on the bed. I sat next to him and spread his legs. I lubed his asshole and worked in a finger.

"Do you like that? Do you want me to take your ass?" I asked him. He just moaned as I massaged his little balls. I told him how John had invited Tom over and he had eaten two men's cum.

I teased him but didn't let him cum. Instead I got up and pulled out a pair of light blue satin panties. He was surprised when I slipped them over his feet and pulled them up.

"How's that? Do you like how they feel?" I rubbed him thru the panties.

"YES" he moaned loudly and came in the panties. I left him on the bed and went to get washed up. He joined me I the shower. He handed me my razor. I knew what he wanted.

"Are you sure?" I smiled he just nodded. And I shaved his chest and back. Having him hold his arms up to do his pits. I finished by having him bend over so I could shave his ass.

"You have to shave your legs yourself" I told him. Getting out as the water got cold.

"Paul, you are going to have to do a few new things around here if I an busy out being someone's whore" I told him.

"I understand" he said.

"First you need to start hand washing all these panties you keep making a mess on" I told him. He rushed off to do it right away. Later that night when he came to bed I noticed he had shaved his legs. I rubbed him all over telling him how proud I was of him.

I continued to meet up with John and sometimes Tom a few times a week. John made sure I understood I was his. He even made a little movie for Paul to watch. Of John and Tom fucking me Tom in my pussy and John in my ass. He took me on a weekend away.

And that brings us to today. Where John had arranged for a gang bang having six men use me however they wished. John stood over me.

"You are one dirty whore" John said looking down at me. His fingers slid into me.

"I bet I could push my whole hand in there " John laughed. I spread my legs in case he wanted to try. John left and I called Paul. Just wanting to hear his voice.

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