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#(i was stuck so i never knew what happened after)
sophiethewitch1 · 2 days
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What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight
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In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.
And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.
Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.
And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.
This was just… bizarre.
“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.
Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.
He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.
“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”
It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.
“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.
Tim hums. “No, we did not.”
Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.
“Seriously?”
“What? You’re the friendly one.”
Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.
Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”
“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.
“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”
“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”
“You mean stalking.”
“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”
Dick sighs again.
“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.
‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx
“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?
“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”
“What?!”
“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.
“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”
Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.
“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.
The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.
He glances back down at his phone.
“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.
“Intrigued yet?”
Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.
He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.
Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.
Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.
Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.
A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!
He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.
Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.
Underwear_guy: Where are you?
Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.
Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.
You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.
“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.
You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 
“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.
Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.
“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”
Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.
-
George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.
Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.
Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.
Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.
You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?
You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.
…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.
You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!
“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.
Good. That was damn well good.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.
Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.
“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”
“You bit me!”
Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.
“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.
“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?
You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.
“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.
George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.
George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.
White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.
Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.
You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.
You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.
“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.
“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.
“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?
Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.
“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.
He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.
…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.
“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”
You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.
“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.
Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.
Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.
Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.
Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.
There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?
For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.
He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.
Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.
“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.
“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.
“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.
He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.
You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.
Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.
“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.
While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…
“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”
“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.
You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.
Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.
Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.
Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.
The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.
“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”
“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.
“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.
You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.
Dick doesn’t make it any better.
“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.
“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.
You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.
Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.
His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.
“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”
Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.
Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.
Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-
You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.
And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.
Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.
“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”
“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”
“And you know I always will, right?”
Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.
It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.
You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.
Your feelings must show on your face.
Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.
“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.
Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.
You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.
“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”
Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.
“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.
Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.
You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.
In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.
Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.
For now, you give him your back as well.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
292 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 2 days
Note
Hey girl!!! I was wondering if you could write something about yandre!miguel x shy!reader to IFHY by Tyler The creator. If not that’s okayyyy
I had to google the song lyrics to know what it was about haha. Def different for sure...Personally, not my cup of tea, but I can try and make it work.
Also, my next story after Over-Time will be a Yandere!Miguel x Gamer!Reader! So I hope you enjoy that one when it comes out!!!
Warning: Language, thoughts of murder, possessiveness, stalking, thoughts of abuse, kidnapping
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I never would've thought that Feelings could get thrown in the air 'Cause I accidentally caught that I need some new boxing gloves, shit got hectic whenever I fought back For example, ten minutes can't go past without you brushing my thoughts That's fourteen forty a day so I'll say a hundred and forty four times I think about you or something like that Lost match, the fucking thought of you with somebody else I don't like that cellular convos getting left in the wrong 'Cause I get so fucking mad when you don't write back This isn't a song I just happen to rhyme when I get emo And find time to write facts (fuck) I love you
How could anyone ever thought about claiming you as their own? Especially since Miguel had decided to make you his. Not that he officially told anyone, but it should be common knowledge. Miguel spoke to you and that was enough.
He didn't want these feelings at first, because he knew what would happen. You plagued his mind constantly, unable to let him breathe for even a minute. It all started out simple enough, but then it kept getting worse as time went on.
Miguel loathed the thought of someone dating you.
For every second the two of you share a room and you don't look at him, oh it boiled Miguel. How dare you not give him the attention he deserves? How dare you not give your love to him as much as Miguel does for you.
Miguel knew everything about you. Every like and dislike. Miguel knew your pattern going home. He knew how you worked. Miguel followed your every movement.
Miguel did everything in his power to understand you. He would always be right behind you, no matter what.
Don't you realize how much Miguel loves you?
How much you are supposed to love him?
I fucking hate you But I love you I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah
I fucking hate you But I love you I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah
Miguel had done so much for you. He had tried to hide these obsessive feelings, but how could he? You were beautiful. Miguel went out of his way to make sure you felt loved.
To make sure that you relied on him!
So why the fuck were you not giving him more attention?
Why the fuck were you just stuck at giving Miguel hugs and pats on the shoulder?
Miguel was starting to lose his temper. What did he have to do to get you to understand his feelings? To get you to understand your feelings for him?!
WHY WERE YOU DOING THIS TO HIM?!
Girl you fucking with my emotions The fuck is all this noise about? I even considered picking up smoking You turned to a bitch, who let the dogs out? But in my dog house My bitch is the raddest Crazy who makes me the happiest Can make me the saddest Look, Alice Let's get lost in your wonder-er-land, fuck an atlas You're perfectly perfect for me What the fuck is this, practice? Actually, if you even consider leaving I'll lose a couple screws in due time, I'll stop breathing And you'll see the meaning of stalking When I pop out the dark to find you And that new dude that you're seeing with an attitude Then proceed to fuck up your evening Make sure you never meet again like goddamn vegans 'Cause when I hear your name, I cannot stop cheesing I love you so much that my heart stops beating when you're leaving And I'm grieving and my heart starts bleeding Life without you has no goddamn meaning Sorry I'm passive aggressive for no goddamn reason It's that my mood change like these goddamn seasons I'll fall for you, but I love you
Miguel was furious. How dare you play with his feelings like this? How dare you agree to date anyone else while Miguel was right there for you?
Oh, how Miguel considered following you home.
Oh, how Miguel considered killing that scum of a boyfriend you had.
You were just confused. You just needed to practice with someone, right? You just wanted to be perfect and ready for when you finally confess your feelings to Miguel.
RIGHT?!
Miguel had to keep his cool. He knew that this was just a short-lived practice for you. He still had to be there for you. To show you your mistakes. After all, Miguel couldn't live without you. You belonged to him and you knew that.
You fucking knew that, so why the fuck were you playing this game?
I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah
The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it tonight The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, bitch, let's try to catch it tonight, come on
The smile Miguel hid as you cried onto his shoulder. Your practice boyfriend didn't understand you as well as Miguel did. He kept hurting you like this. Making you feel like you've done something wrong.
Which you did.
Miguel would just welcome you into his embrace. Comforting you as he thought of about killing that son of a bitch. You were made for Miguel. You were his.
So, Miguel was going to give you a chance to redeem yourself.
This was your last chance.
Come on baby Even though I hate you I still love you I love you And Salem I know I'm passive aggressive (I'm sorry, fuck) (Come here) I like when we hold hands (You're the best around) See I get jealous (fuck) And if I see that nigga (if I see him) I just might kill him (look) (Look, I wanna strangle you, till you stop breathing) Love, love, love (Spend the rest of my life, looking for air) (So you can breathe, or we can die together, you and me) (Fuck, look) I'm in love (love) I'm in love (love)
You were so beautiful. Miguel could never hate you.
But he did.
But he loved you.
You were still with that practice boyfriend, holding his hand as he joined for a work dinner party. Miguel just smiled as he burned holes in that fucking asshole's head.
How dare he claim you.
Unable to withstand this pain, Miguel pulled you to the side. He needed to hear your voice alone. He needed you to want his attention. Miguel just needed you to admit your feelings for him.
As the two of you talked in the balcony, Miguel withheld his breathe as you reached for his hand.
The smile you gave him was unlike any other.
Miguel tuned out your words as he watched your lips move. The temptation to take you away and make you his. How sweet Miguel would treat you.
"Miguel, I'm sorry...but we should see each other less."
And then you had to fuck it up.
You blew your last chance.
I fucking hate you But I love you I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah
Yo, so why is Samuel such a fucking dick? He isn't such a badass actually He's only here because he ran away Because some shit happened back, home he's actually a dweeb Yo, what happened?
Washing blood off was no easy task. Hiding the body was much easier.
If only you had admitted your feelings.
If only you weren't being difficult.
Making his way to the basement, Miguel hummed lowly as he faced you. The light was dimmed, but Miguel could see you clear as day. You had a new look in your eyes.
Fear.
Miguel just smiled as he approached you, watching you flinch as he went to hold you. This was your lesson. This was your punishment. You should have listened to Miguel.
Now, you were Miguel's little prisoner. His darling girlfriend. You were never going to go against Miguel's wishes ever again.
"I love you so much, (Y/N)." Miguel chuckled as he kissed your head.
His hand stroked your cheek, waiting for your response.
"I-I....I love you too."
There is was.
Why did it take so long for you to admit that?
But it didn't matter anymore. You were now where you belonged.
With Miguel.
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Hope you enjoyed, def different than what I usually write.
Hope I did a decent job with the song tho!!!
62 notes · View notes
jaylver · 2 hours
Text
THE FIVE YEAR DEAL — P.JS
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synopsis: having to deal with a four year long situationship was hard enough in the first place, but when your favourite situationship texted you on a random night after a year of no contact, it was a much harder scenario than imagined. what happens when he brings up that old pact you made about getting married in 5 years and you start rekindling a relationship that was lost?
pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader
genre: ex-situationship to friends to lovers, second chance romance, angst, romance, pining
warning(s): profanities, drinking and partying, slight violence
wc: 6.5k
a/n: after a month of not posting, here's a very very belated jay fic that was meant to be for his birthday (scream). please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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Park Jong Seong was your roman empire. There, you actually said it.
He was a thought that constantly hovered in your mind from time to time. Whether he was a ghost that lingered to haunt you or a sweet thought that remained, you couldn't tell. All you knew was that he had changed your life for the better and the worst.
A lesson you'd often tell others is to never get yourself involved in a situationship, worse if it's with your best friend. Unfortunately, you were speaking from experience which involved Jay, your ex situationship slash best friend. Look how you and him eventually turned out.
An almost four year long situationship with Jay that took an absolute toll on you had ended the year before. You agreed on no contact with him after, trying to create a peaceful life without him out of your life, yet it was entirely impossible when you shared mutual friends that reminded you of your good times with him even though he wasn't around. 
You hate to admit it, but losing a person who was your best friend cut deep into your gut and heart combined. It was, at least, for the better. That was something your friends told you that you gradually recited in your head. It wasn't very effective, however. You still thought about him, quite often actually. But you supposed that was the haunting and painful part of having a relationship with someone that was almost a lover but never became one. 
It was the same exact night you were thinking about him when a text appeared on the homescreen of your phone. You stared at the notification for God knows how long, debating if your lack of sleep was finally catching up to you. The contact name was unmistakable, there it was, Jay's text. Jay, your Jay? 
The strength you had trying to act casual, but in reality, you were dying internally. The hold that man has on you was unimaginable. 
jjong: you up?
you: ?
jjong: did you delete my number?
If only he knew, he would've probably laughed. You never deleted his number, nor did you even change his contact name. His name constantly stuck out in the list of contacts, just like the memories of him in your head.
you: no, i didn't. what i meant was why are you texting me at 2 am?
jjong: i thought of something, something we said four years ago
you: okay …?
jjong: you said if we're both still  single in five years, we should get married
you: you took that seriously?
jjong: should i not have?
you: dumbass, i was tipsy
jjong: you didn't say that when i brought it up after you were sober
you: it's stupid
jjong: it's not. come on, y/n, can we please start afresh? i miss you.
He missed you?  
jjong: i'm serious. can we please meet up?
you: you swear you're not going to pull something?
jjong: no?? the most i'll do is pull out an engagement ring but who knows
you: cut the crap, jay 
jjong: don't act like that didn't make you giggle even the slightest
jjong: meet me downtown. the usual place we go to :)
How could he act so nonchalant when bringing up the past? The usual place that you haven't been to after cutting contact with him was something he still recalled, but to you, it was a place you avoided up until now. 
It was hard to sleep when your mind was filled with thoughts of him, except this time, instead of missing him, you dreaded him and the part where you're going to meet him for the first time in a year. What was he going to say? 
The wish you wished upon the lone star that night was for Jay to finally set his feelings and emotions clear. But whether it will come true or not, the truth will soon befall on you.
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The day you planned to meet Jay was a cloudy one. It was likely a foreshadow, but you chose to ignore the overthinking you constantly did.
You were the first one there in the cafe, specifically sitting at that table by the corner which you and Jay usually hogged. Being there early due to mostly the anxiety, you got to calm your nerves down and prepare yourself to face Jay. 
It shouldn't be hard to meet someone you already knew, but why did it feel that way? The unspoken feelings and those that were left hanging, unaddressed, was what haunted the both of you. You supposed this meet up with him would hopefully change that the slightest bit. All you hoped for was that he didn't become a stranger to you.
You failed to realise his approaching figure as you were sitting with your back facing the entrance, it was your usual spot anyway. Not to mention, his footsteps were quiet as ever, a thing about him that was unchanging. 
"Y/N," you heard his voice before meeting his eyes, watching as he slipped onto the chair opposite of you, the warm aura of his never failing to provide a sense of comfort for you. "Hey,"
The change of his hair colour grabbed your attention first. The silvery colour that the light bounced on suited him well. He always wanted to experiment with his hair, and you didn't expect him to really do it. Other than that, he had the same features, same smile, same warm colour tone eyes and skin. All in all, he was the Jay you knew, the one you loved.  
"Jay," you spoke his name as if it was a foreign taste on your tongue. His irises flashed an unreadable spark at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. You fell into silence, not knowing how to start the conversation whereas he seemed rather speechless instead. 
He shook himself out of it, a slight frown etched onto his lips. "Thanks for making time to see me. I know … you probably didn't want to, so I'm glad you came," his tone contradicted the way his texts sounded, the initial confidence was currently wavering.
"It's no problem," you shook your head softly, a secret hope you had kept shouting in your mind where he would fix everything. 
"I didn't want to leave us at that, Y/N," his sudden confession surprised you, but it left your heart beating in both anticipation and anxiety. "The way we left things, it wasn't right. I wasn't right for doing the things I did,"
You knew what he was talking about, or at least the obvious one out of the bunch. That night at his place where you were tipsy and he was holding you in his arms, you accidentally let out the secret you've been holding in: you loved him. As expected, it obviously strained the relationship as he insisted on it being nothing serious. You were stupid for thinking he would've reciprocated it, but all he did was leave you stranded on the empty space of heartbreak alone. 
"I'm sorry. I was an asshole, and I was an idiot for not realising how much you meant to me until you weren't there next to me. You carved a hole in my life and my heart was moulded for you," his gaze fell to the table, an audible draw of breath from him. 
Jay glanced up to lock his eyes with yours again, the twitch of his hand that was holding itself back from reaching over to you. "I'm not a religious man, Y/N, but every night I prayed for God to lead me back to you," he swallowed thickly, "I know I fucked up, that's why we stopped … everything. I deserved it, but I really want to fix everything,"
You opened your mouth to speak just to close it after a passing second. He said exactly what you wished for him to say, but why was it so hard grasping everything before you? Was it the shock? 
"I missed you, Jay," it was the truth, an angering truth that you held onto for ages. "I really did. I think about you a lot and the mistakes we made. I wish we could go back to the way we were. You're my best friend," you knew that word wasn't just what it was, it held something more than that. "And I just want you back,"
The softening of his gaze only exposed the vulnerability on your face. "Can we start again?" He said quietly, seemingly testing the waters. "As friends, and we'll go slow,"
"I'd like that," you nodded, never leaving his gaze. You didn't say it, neither did he, but you weren't putting away the chances of something more than just friends, an unspoken hope that you kept. Maybe this time, everything would turn out right. 
Before you parted ways with Jay and left for home, you shared a simple conversation in front of the cafe. Just like old times, the conversation flowed naturally as if time didn't separated the two of you in the first place. 
"Can I hug you?" 
For the first time in many months, you felt the warmth and touch of Jay's that you missed. It was familiar, comforting, a band aid that covered the crack on your heart. This was the first step to heal that broken heart of yours. Closure. It was for the better. 
The rest of your day was only filled with thoughts of him, till the point where it had you lying in bed, awake and turning, wondering about the fate of you and him. A second chance was about to make or break everything.
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The next time you saw Jay again was at a party his frat brother held. 
Ever since that day at the cafe, you didn't stop texting Jay. You realised at one point that you had fallen back into your old self once more. Giggling at his messages, anticipating his notifications, calling him at odd hours. All of which didn't go unnoticed by you, and you wondered if you should be horrified or nonchalant. Given that you and him were on better, speaking terms now, you brushed it off as nothing.
"Well, isn't it my favourite girl," Jay had his arms wide open the moment he approached you, that smile of his glowing from a distance away. 
You smiled back, you always did anyway, letting him embrace you into his arms. "You smell like beer," you scrunch your nose up in distaste, pushing yourself off of him, but your arms around his shoulders remain.
"But I'm sober," he casted a wink at you, ignoring your eye roll as he took your arm from your shoulder and slid his fingers into your hand. "Come on, the guys are over there,"
To think about explaining this to the rest of your friends was going to be interesting to say the least. They already knew from your continuous text screaming for bloody help, but for them to witness it in person? You couldn't help but wish to cower into a corner out of embarrassment.
Heeseung was the first to raise a discreet eyebrow at you when you approached, hands intertwined with Jay, the same guy you swore you cut contacts with. That's a lie, apparently. Jake and Sunghoon seemed impassive, but you could tell from their several exchanges of glances, they thought the same as Heeseung did. However, both you and Jay were their friends, and no matter how messy it was, they were just the people stuck in between.
Jay eventually excused himself from the conversation to get more drinks for himself. You had a feeling he was about to be drunk by the end of the night no matter how he denied that. You knew his patterns through and through. Once he was out of ear shot, the boys turned to stare at you accusingly.
"Did you guys kiss?" Jake was the first to be blunt. The other two were eager to know the truth as well.
You practically jumped in your seat, as if a bullet had shot through your chest. In that way, his zero filtered question had that effect. "What? No! We agreed on being just friends,"
"For now," Heeseung chimed in.
"What?"
"You were literally holding hands with him," 
"It's platonic,"
"Considering your past with him, I think that's the last thing you can claim as platonic when it comes to Jay," Heeseung quipped back, making a valid point that you chose to ignore.
"Whatever. We're currently friends and we're not rushing into anything. We don't want to ruin it," you rubbed your arm uneasily, the thought of your past recurring saddened you. 
"Then when are you going to actually get together?" Sunghoon asked, sounding rather exasperated as though he's the one in your position. At one point, you wished you could trade places. 
"Ask him that," you leaned your head onto Jake's shoulder for emotional support, the question from Sunghoon was a second bullet to your heart. You had been the one sending signals from the start, but when it came to Jay reciprocating it, it was rather bleak.
"You're still hung over him? It never … went away?" Heeseung leaned his body closer, increasingly immersed into the conversation deeper.
"How could it go away when I've always been in love with him?"
The words stuck to you throughout the night. The truth and reality of you loving a man that threw everything away was a burden you carried. The egging thought of wondering if Jay even reciprocated the feelings after a year crept into your head. He didn't reach out to reconnect for nothing, did he?
Just as you've guessed, Jay was truly drunk out of his mind by the time the party was ending. Your friends were trying their best to haul Jay into his apartment while you trailed behind, wishing you were more of help than this. Jay was eventually dumped onto his bed, slurring out random sentences that made zero sense to you.
"Do you need me to drop you back? I didn't drink," Heeseung turned to you first once all of you stepped out of Jay's room. 
"I'll be fine. I didn't drink much, so I think I can drive myself back. I also want to stay a while more to make sure he's fine," you took a glance back at the open bedroom door, seeing Jay still awake and turning uncomfortably. 
"Will you be okay? I mean, you just started talking again, I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Heeseung placed an assuring hand on your shoulder, concern filled eyes boring into yours. You hadn't even thought about this before, the emotions you had whenever with Jay. 
You smiled at your friend. "It's Jay. I will never feel that way about him,"
Heeseung reciprocated your smile, seemingly more relieved. "I know."
Your friends soon left, the loud sounds of their drunken chatters faded into the night, leaving you in a deafening silence. A deep intake of breath was what helped you regain your confidence back to finally step into Jay's room, facing a dazed looking Jay who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He seemed a tad bit more sober from the multiple cups of water he had drunk. 
"Are you alright?" You took a few steps forward, holding onto the doorframe.
He glanced up, the dim light provided by his desk lamp illuminated his face, the sharpness of his features contrasted the tears he had swimming in his eyes. It was unmistakable, but it weighed you down onto the ground, not knowing if you should be taking another step. 
"Jay?" You called out cautiously, swallowing thickly. A quiet sob broke the short silence which followed, the glistening tears made their way down his cheeks. It was your first time seeing him as vulnerable as this.
You got to his side, knelt on the ground, trying to search for his gaze which persisted to run away from yours. He tried hiding his face behind his hands, but you were quick to stop him, holding onto them tightly. It was then he was forced to finally meet your eyes. 
"I'm sorry," you heard his weak voice utter out, his hand that you held onto gripped yours. "I'm sorry," he whispered tearfully.
It was your first time witnessing him this broken, crying nonstop and leaving his emotions out on display. For the first time in ages, you couldn't properly read him like you've always done. Was it your fault for making him feel this way? Was there nothing but pain in this so-called relationship you and him shared?
"I miss you," it was a confession, a painful sounding confession that he's held onto for a long time, the look in his eyes told you he meant it, but there was something else that he had: grief. "I'm sorry,"
You didn't know how long it was that you stared at him for, the thoughts in your mind had been long gone, the shell of your body remained. His words and the emotions behind them were heavier than you anticipated, it hit you hard and rough. You sighed, lowering your head for a second. "You should get some sleep, Jay. It's late and you're buzzed. I'll talk to you in the morning,"
Jay was silent. You could tell there was a hint of disappointment from him that you wished you weren't the cause of it. You got up to your feet, staring at the top of his head as he fought to avoid your eyes. So be it. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.
"Will you stay?"
You've heard this one too many times. Yet, you were always a victim to it. Unlike most times, you knew this was different, letting your heart guide you to him instead of your head. It might've been foolish, but you were willing to be a fool that was persistently in love just for him.
"I'll stay."
That night, you barely slept as he laid in your lap, sound asleep. Your fingers traced the sharpness of his features, smoothing over the softness of them. You wondered to yourself whether reconnecting was a good idea in the first place if this odd feeling of yours kept cutting deep into your heart every time you're with Jay. 
You would never wish to leave him once more, but did he feel the same as you do? Or will he be the first to let you go again? 
Maybe, just this once, you'd have to be the first to let go, even if it's a small step, it was something better than nothing.
With one last apologetic look at Jay, you closed his bedroom door and left his home with a heavier heart than usual. By the time morning comes, you hoped both yours and his memories from the night before would be a fever dream. Something so intimate and vulnerable, how were you to forget quickly? Even as you drifted off to sleep in your bed, you could still remember the tears on Jay's face, it being the last thing you remember before waking up to your doorbell ringing.
It was as if your thoughts had manifested Jay to show up at your doorstep. He wasn't a figment of your imagination, but actual flesh and bones. No matter how you rubbed your eyes trying to get yourself to be more awake, he wasn't disappearing away from view. He was real. 
"Can we talk?" 
Those three words immediately brought dread for you. Jay's face was impassive, but it was evident that he was tired, restless. You nodded, moving away to let him in. It was easy for you to let him in, whether it was your home or your heart, you've always kept a space for him.
"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You stepped closer to him, seeing as he hadn't taken a seat and feeling something odd shift in the air.
"Us, Y/N, us," Jay breathed out, strained and hoarse, as if saying that word had pained him deeply. "I don't like this, I hate it. The 'us' that we are now,"
"What?"
"We can't keep continuing on like this. We can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not,"
It was too early for this, too early for you to be feeling burning internal rage. "Are you kidding? So what are you going to do? Leave me alone again? Go no contact with me again just because you don't want to face me again?"
"No!" Jay took a step closer to you, eyes blazing with equal fiery as yours. "I'm not ending things again, never. I can't lose you this time," his voice wavered, his hand reaching for yours and you let him hold your hand. Was that your first mistake? "I'm in love with you,"
You wished those words hadn't left his lips. For ages, you thought him confessing his true feelings would've fixed things, fixed you and him both, but at that moment, you realised it wasn't that easy, the cracks on your heart remained. 
"I know when you look at me, you see everything that went wrong, but when I look at you, I see the person I'm in love with," every word pierced your heart deeper, the desperation in his voice was clear, a saddening tragedy was imminent. 
"You don't get to do this," you whispered, backing away from him and freeing your hand from his hold. The hurt that flashed across his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you. "You don't get to tell me you're in love with me out of nowhere after we stop talking. It's not fair,"
"Am I … too late?" His voice was quiet, in the midst of the hurt was a pinch of hope. 
"You're not," you didn't want to lie, you knew your feelings were the same and unchanged, but you just weren't ready to cave in and accept his feelings that fast. It wasn't fair. "Time. That's what we need to start afresh,"
Jay nodded, jaw clenched, face stoic. There was no denying that he was hurt, he didn't hide it anyway. "I'll make it right. I'll fix us."
Was it possible to mend everything?
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Attending a party to get drunk was probably the worst idea you had in a while. 
The thoughts of you and Jay haunted you like a sickening plague, the conversation you had with him was constantly eating you up from the inside. You were pushing him away, you knew so, you were becoming like him in some ways. How ironic it was. 
That was why the moment Julie invited you to her boyfriend's house party, you knew you had to have some type of getaway, though it wasn't the most ideal. The only problem you didn't appreciate her not telling you earlier was the person you wanted to avoid most was standing with the rest of your friends in a corner playing pool.
"Look, I didn't know they were coming," Julie defended herself, leaning her body close to your side. "What's up with you and Jay anyway?"
"It's complicated,"
Julie sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it is, but how blind and dumb could you both be?"
"Hey!"
"It's obvious you like him and he likes you, why can't you guys just—I don't know—get together?" 
"It's not that easy, I wish it was. I think we're both hurt, or I'm the coward this time. We … talked, he finally said he loves me, but I can't accept it just yet,"
"Why not?"
"I gave my heart to him, Julie. For years I willingly gave my heart to a man that constantly blocked me from his heart, which was why we ended things. Only then he realised his true feelings and right now he's asking for my heart back. I just don't think it's fair," your eyes dropped to the carpeted ground, gripping onto your plastic cup tightly.
"Then would you rather regret it?"
"Huh?"
"Would you regret after pushing him away and never becoming something you've always wished to be? Constantly think about the what-ifs? I know I'm not in the right to say anything since I'm not you, but the only thing I wish to say is to go with your heart," she placed a hand on your shoulder. "If your heart yearns for him, it'll always stay that way."
Why couldn't you stop your heart from yearning for Jay? It was as if Julie had read you like a book, even in those times where you and him stopped contacting one another, you never once forgot about him. It was true, your heart was yearning for him. 
Meeting new people that were introduced by Julie and her boyfriend momentarily took your mind off Jay. Their friends were people you probably wouldn't meet again, so you didn't mind when you were left alone with one of them. 
"You come by here often?" Juyeon, one of the guys, was by your side like a leech instead of being a good company. His presence was screaming red blaring signals to you.
"Not much," you chuckled awkwardly, wondering when Julie would return with the rest of her friends.
"Can I take you out some time?" Wow, he sure knew how to cut to the chase. 
"What?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to come by to my place after this?"
Oh, this was your sign to run, wasn't it? "I—well, I have someone to meet—"
"Come on, give me a chance—" he grabbed onto your hand right before you could successfully leave, this was when you remind yourself never to get involved with frat boys.
"Sorry—" you didn't have the chance to finish your sentence when your hand was forcefully ripped away from his hold, another familiar feeling of someone's hand on yours instead. You turned just in time to see Jay standing beside you, visibly fuming.
"Leave her alone, man," he placed himself in front of you, shielding you away from Juyeon. 
"Look, I'm just trying to invite her over. You know what, she's nothing special anyway—" the sound of Jay's fist clashing into Jueyon's jaw stopped him from continuing on. You were too shocked to comprehend everything happening before you, even as Jay lunged onto the man, you could do nothing but stare. 
"Jay!" The shouts of his name clicked in your mind, breaking you out of your shell-shocked state. Every one of your friends rushed to get Jay off of Juyeon who ended up scrambling away, leaving a crowd of onlookers. 
He was hesitant to turn around and look at you, you could tell so from his stiff shoulders, but you stayed hoping to see his face. You reached your hand out shakily to touch his shoulder, yet, before you could actually do so, he turned around, eyes avoiding to meet yours.
"Jay—" 
There he went brushing past you, not a single word spoken from him. The slamming of the front door snapped you out of the hurtful daze you were in to follow him out of the house. He was standing on the pavement, unmoving. You approached him carefully, scared and paranoid of executing a wrong move.
"Jay," you walked to stand before him, feeling a tinge of hurt when he took a step back away from you. "Jay," you repeated his name, this time with a bit more desperation. "Why did you do that?" There was no answer, only a sullen silence which blurred into the night. 
You shifted your attention to his fist, the forming of a bruise and some cracked skin decorated the fist he used to punch Juyeon. Your hand absentmindedly reached for his. "You're hurt," you were about to touch his hand when he pulled away, avoiding your hold, a look of hurt flashed across your features, but you tried to hide it.
"I can't let him talk to you like that," he whispered, looking anywhere but you. You wished to grab his shoulder and forcefully make him look at you. 
"Jay, it's okay,"
"It's not!" He snapped, finally having the nerves to meet your eyes. His change of tone shocked you, your feet took a step back unknowingly. "It's not okay. Not when I feel like I'm going insane thinking you're going to get yourself in danger,"
"I'm sorry—"
"Don't," Jay heaved a breath in, voice shaking slightly. "I should be the one to say sorry for acting this way. I'm sorry," 
"Jay—" 
"I'll see you around. Get home safe." You couldn't even reach him and he was already gone, leaving into the night. There was a twisting feeling in your heart that was unbearable. Was this the end of it all? 
You felt even worse walking back into the house when the rest of your friends asked you about Jay and his whereabouts. It was awkward staying there after what went down, so you ended up going back home too, throwing yourself in bed to forget everything that had happened. 
Jay, the fight, Juyeon, you wished those three things never happened that night. You wished you and Jay never happened at all. 
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"You're just going to leave it at that?"
A bottle of alcohol late at night with the company of your friends without Jay was what you needed after a rollercoaster of a events. The amount of shots you've taken wasn't enough to blur the image of Jay's tear stained cheek or the hurt in his eyes when he told you he loved you, not even the time he avoided your touch. You wondered if love was meant to be this painful. If it was, why were you so adamant on it?
"I … don't know," you set the glass down, chewing the insides of your cheek. "It'll be too cliche and stupid to say it's complicated, right? I think I'm just hurting him. I still love him, but I can't let myself to do so. It's weird, him reconnecting after a year and suddenly telling me he's in love with me out of the blue. What does all that mean?"
Sunghoon let out a hiss from the shot he took in one go, then turned to you. "Jay might be a dumbass for realising his faults and feelings a little too late, but there's one thing I'm sure about him, and that is how much he cares for you and loves you. I remember after you guys cut contact, he had trouble sleeping for months. He said the thought of you leaving haunted him,"
"I know it's unfair to you how he's only realised his true feelings now," Heeseung interjected, pouring another round into your glass. "But I think you're just hurting yourself more by pushing him away, just like how he did to you. You love him, don't you? Don't repeat the same mistakes, you've wasted a whole year together, don't waste a lifetime regretting what could've been."
Two stubborn people walking in constant circles, that was you and Jay. Too scared to face your feelings, hurting not only the other but also yourself. 
Being absolutely emotional and pissed drunk only resulted in you crying your eyes out, which made your friends worried out of their minds till the point where they had to call the person who would know how to comfort you. However, they  failed to realise in time that the same person was the cause of your tears. 
"Where is she?" You heard his voice from a mile away, it was something you'd never forget. The others were slowly leaving your apartment after hoisting you to your bedroom. The process of which involved you sobbing and your drunk friends trying not to drop you. 
The thudding sound of footsteps filled the silence in your home. It stopped right at the doorstep to your bedroom, the hesitation was evident when he entered after several beats. You laid on your side, facing away from him. His approaching figure made your heart race, you felt the bed dip beneath you upon him taking a seat next to you. 
"You're awake, aren't you?"
You glanced up at him, the dimness of your room casted a shadow across his face, but he was still the most beautiful person you've seen. You slowly sat up, trying to move your body a distance away from him to make everything less surreal. The silence in the room was overwhelming, neither of you knew what to say first.
"Do you hate me?"
"What?" 
"I was the first to let go this time," you chuckled dryly, doing everything but meeting his eyes, maybe you were the coward all along.
Jay let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. "How could I ever hate you?" It was a question, it was his truth, his dying truth that he held onto with all his heart. He glanced down, staring at his hands, the bruises from the hard punches thrown were healing. "I shouldn't have lashed out on you that night. It wasn't right for me to do so,"
In the midst of your hazy mind, your brain functioned well enough to recollect the memories he mentioned. Oh, that night, that incident. "It's alright, I know you didn't mean it, you were trying to look out for me, I get it," you averted your gaze, letting yourself smile a little to lessen the tension. "I think I was just scared,"
"Of what?" 
"Of you leaving again," 
Jay's gaze softened in the darkness, his hand reaching out to hold yours and it was one of those times that you let him do so knowing how your heart felt like exploding. "I'm never leaving, nor do I hate you. I hate myself for pushing you away, for realising everything too late, for hurting you," he took a deep, yet shaky breath, "If anything, I love you,"
The drowsiness you were experiencing somehow disappeared in a blink of an eye, your mind blank, all you could hear in the back of your mind was those three words which Jay uttered. The air around you and him had shifted, the angry tension dissipated. 
You felt his hold on your hand tightening, just the same as your heart tightening at the sight of Jay's heartbroken smile. "I love you," it was a confession, something ever so freeing to finally be able to say to him knowing your true feelings were reciprocated. "I'm sorry for running away,"
Jay moved closer, his face now barely a few inches away. Everything was a blur, how his other hand travelled to cup your cheeks, his breath practically fanning your lips. "I should be the one to say sorry," those were his last words before pressing his lips on yours.
It wasn't your first time kissing him, but something about the kiss was unlike the times you've experienced.  Despite all those playful, lighthearted kisses you shared with Jay, you knew this was different. Jay was pouring his endless unspoken apologies and devotion, a mix of relief, sadness, longing were hidden behind it.
Even as you pulled away, you could feel the palpable longing between you and him. It was as if years of silent desperation, confusion and pining had melted into one, finally being addressed at that moment. Neither of you spoke a single word, just holding each other close, admiring one another. It was intimate, something you couldn't recreate with someone else. 
"I will never leave you," he whispered, his thumb stroking your cheek reassuringly. "You're a piece of me and my heart, you make me whole. I would be a fool to ever let you go again,"
You stared at him as if he was your entire universe, the effect of his every word carved a space into your heart. Eyes closing momentarily, you let yourself melt into his touch, smiling softly. "I trust you."
That was all Jay needed to hear before a small smile spread across his face. You could hear it in silence, see the look on his face and that spark he has in his brown irises, you knew what it was, he was in love.
That night, he stayed with you until morning came. You held onto one another tightly, as though scared that it was the last day to be together. Little words were exchanged, but you were content by him holding you close. 
For the first time in a while, you were able to fall asleep with no lingering thoughts, and for the first time ever, he was yours, and you were his.
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Telling your friends you and Jay were finally together was a rollercoaster of emotions that you'd never forget. 
It has been months since you and your best friend officially got together. The reactions from people around you were nothing but relief and support after knowing how much hell you two went through. For once, you actually believed in the 'forever' that was promised.
You didn't question the sound of keys unlocking your front door. It has become a habit for Jay to stop by your place every evening, almost just like before and it felt as if everything was falling back into place. Every visit of his came with something he prepared to surprise you, which was why his cheeky grin gave it away.
He pressed a kiss on the top of your head before joining you on the sofa, the playful smile of his never once left. "I have a surprise,"
"Chocolate cake?"
"Okay, something not edible," 
"What is it?" You couldn't help smiling too, nudging your boyfriend in an attempt to get him to reveal his so-called surprise.
"Close your eyes,"
"Are you serious?"
"I'm serious. Come on, close them!" He was giggling, egging you on to go along with whatever he has up his sleeves. "Now, give me your hand," You complied. Not long after, you felt something cold and small making contact with the skin of your palm. "Open your eyes," 
You were first met with Jay's anticipating gaze, then you looked down, seeing a ring sitting on the palm of your hand. "A ring?" You were surprised, picking it up to look at it closely. It was beautiful, simple yet so intricate in detail, as if it was customised for you. 
"Don't worry, it's not an engagement ring, it's a promise ring. I know we did make a five year deal, but we're still taking it slow," he picked the ring from your hold and gently took your hand, slotting the ring into your ring finger. "Maybe in another five years time, I'll actually get to fulfil our pact and replace this with an engagement ring,"
This was the closest you've felt your heart exploding. Heat rushed to your face, heart beating nonstop, you were suddenly the person who's first developed a crush for Jay all over again. "Since when did you become so cheesy," you scoffed, a small smile rested on your lips.
"Only for you, duh," it wasn't a lie whatsoever, Jay never hid himself when it came to you. "Let's call some takeout and stay in,"
"Are you staying over tonight?"
"Only if your bed is open to let me in," he made himself comfortable next to you, throwing his arms around you to pull you closer to his side. 
"You know it always is."
Jay didn't say anything, but his smile was enough of a response. No matter if it's your bed, house or heart, you've always reserved a spot specially for him. He made up a part of you just the same as you were with him. He was your home and safe space. You were glad you made that stupid pact on one drunken night that led him back to you.
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edensremains · 3 days
Text
consequences
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↳ summary: vox’s ars goetia girlfriend doesn’t like the limelight but you know who does? him!
↳want to see Vox in pain? there’s a part two!
↳ not my fav piece but it’s There, there’s a second part to this but it’s Vox going through it. I wrote this for myself before and edited it up….. this feels TOO indulgent like Dulce Vida😭 it’s almost midnight let me get my ass to bed… i haven’t watched helluva boss yet so ars goetia being nobility is all i know my fault yall LMFOAOOOOOO
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Vox loved to be in the limelight. His girlfriend did not.
You were a person that didn’t enjoy being paraded around like a commodity, and you weren’t one! But Vox was a very public person by nature, and it was practically expected that when Vox entered a relationship, he’d make an announcement to all of Hell on a broadcast showing off his beloved. It’s not like you two were exactly subtle about their relationship, not very much anyways, you were the only one who really tried to uphold that rule of yours around the cameras. Vox loved to stress you out by practically hanging off you whenever one of his millions of cameras fixated on you two during a live broadcast.
To the public, you were an Ars Goetia that was taking an interest in the Vee’s which did wonders for their reputation, and you’d had a hand in a couple of their marketing decisions as well as their internal division. To the Vee’s, you were just Vox’s girlfriend who was practically royalty that lorded over them when they’d act up, which caused a lot of friction at first. Quick to snip them back into line whenever risky decisions that could impact their reputation were about to happen, they didn’t end up liking that much. Although you didn’t enjoy getting involved you knew that the Vee’s reputation was important to Vox, which meant you had to give a fuck if Velvette was getting into trouble or Valentino was seconds away from storming away with one of his guns in hand headed straight for the public.
As time passed, the two eased up around you and hesitantly began to accept these new circumstances. After more time, they’d come to see you as Vox’s girlfriend who lived with them and stuck around every day, just like them. Which meant Velvette could get a free model on short notice and Valentino could try and get her in the studio when he was down one whore.
…Over Vox’s dead fucking body was he letting his girlfriend star in a porno with some other fucking bastard touching you in any way, sometimes he could barely handle Valentino touching you on his more stressful days. Velvette was fine, you looked stunning in anything she made you wear.
The silence in-between those times was getting to him though.
Everything is about reputation and with you being an Ars Goetia, which is the closest thing to the royal family there is without actually being royally tied, it could elevate the Vee’s status in the eyes of hell just by association. It could have been a great story for the news, if you weren’t so vehemently against revealing your relationship to the entirety of Hell. Vox didn’t actually care for keeping things under wraps, but he likes to pretend just to keep you quiet on the matter and avoid yet another argument about the subject. Doesn’t mean he won’t still grab you by your waist and pull you in every second he can. So what if the camera’s are on? He’s allowed to want to hold his girlfriend. If his hands roam a bit, you can just slap them away like always.
Even so, he pissed you off this time.
During a broadcast, you’d agreed to make a guest appearance for their reality show in the Vee tower, it was supposed to be a focus on Velvette today with her day in the life section. Vox never took the need to hide your relationship secret too seriously, so the other Vee’s didn’t either. After her part playing model for Velvette, she’d gone ahead and retired to Vox’s floor of the tower. Sandwiched between Valentino and Vox, you were laid across their laps and idly scrolling through her phone. Valentino was pressing kisses against your neck as he watched you, trying to get you to set down the phone for your second unofficial boyfriend. Vox? He was watching the broadcast as it was playing out, it wasn’t often they did it live after all. It was risky, but it provided good content when Velvette could interact with the viewers comments immediately.
It was going great until he shifted his attention away for one moment to press a kiss to your wrist before Velvette bounded in through the doors, the camera pointed right at the three on the couch.
“Here they are—? Couldn’t fuckin’ find Val for a second but here he is! See his coat? You’d think I did that shit, but the fluff and all isn’t me, that’s actually his wings. He can alter them or whatever. Yoo-hoo, lovebirds! The two boyfriends and their girlfriend, give us a hoot!” Velvette grinned as she kept her eyes on the stream, unaware of just how deep your reluctance to be in the public eye went as she gave the camera a shake in your direction.
Immediately, Vox felt you stiffen, practically shoving the two off yourself before giving Vox a look. “Velvette!” You hissed, your eyes wide and panicked. Vox, sensing the immediate shift in mood, swiped his hand over a glass panel and the broadcast cut off, ending the show’s episode with a bang. He barely got a word in before you were storming out, heading to your own room on the floor (not that you ever used it, really, Vox’s had plenty of room for the two of you and more), slamming the door behind you and clicking all the digital locks.
Now two hours later, Vox had finally deactivated the electronic locks and let himself in after your refusal to come out. He wasn’t going to wipe the broadcast, the views were already skyrocketing beyond their usual at the announcement. Everyone seemed happy for them! What’s the big fucking deal? It’s not like anyone was really surprised. Maybe that fuck ass mentor of hers was, the one who kept her away from them every now and then for training away from the Pride ring; but who cares about that bastard really? Maybe the nobility or whatever.
Valentino was pacing around, practically twitching with the urge to go in himself and drag you back out himself. Probably to shake her around back and forth, trying to assure himself that you weren’t mad at him for some godforsaken reason that he couldn’t immediately fix with sex. Velvette on the other hand, almost tore him a new one when he’d explained the very strict rule you had about publicity. She’d guessed they were just waiting to announce it and decided to crash and do it for them, not that you were vehemently against it.
“Baby, please. You can’t stay in here forever, what’s the big deal? Velvette didn’t mean it, you know that.” Vox began with a playful lilt to his voice, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He’d deactivated all the locks after getting sick of trying to convince you to let him in. Why should he have to beg to see you face to face in his own home?
“What the fuck do you mean what’s the big deal?” You hissed, your wings flaring out behind you as you paced around the room, your hands in tight fists beside you. “The entirety of Hell knows about us! I was fucking— I hated even making myself known to help out the Vee’s but I did it for you! Vox, this is too far, you know that.”
“Babe. If this is about the attention, it’s all positive and shit! They all love you. Everyone suspected we were too close anyways, they’re all eating out of our hands right now. Royal gossip and all that junk! Why are you being like this?” His digital screen displayed a frown and furrowed brows, his sharp claws coming up to try and touch your wing gently before you turned away, your wings pinning to your side flatly as if burned by his attempt.
Distance, silence, anger, rejection. This was all wrong. You looked like a goddamn cornered bird, wings flared in defense with a low sound emitting from your throat. It made something odd stir inside him, a desire to reclaim, to soothe her, to possess or reassert himself.
“Come on, baby, you know I hate it when we’re not on the same wavelength. Talk to me, please?” He tried to coax you into calming down enough to talk to him without it brewing into a full blown argument, his voice sickeningly sweet as he let his hand fall back to his side, although it irritated him to have to be complacent yet again about this issue. Why couldn’t you just accept the fame? You’re already at the top of the ladder, what’s some more? “They all love you and I. No one is rioting like you think they are.”
“It’s not about that.” You snap, then your expression flickers for a moment, a trace of guilt. There it is.
He doubled down, coming up closer beside you with a soft, artificial as can be, smile on his face. “Then tell me what’s going through that lovely head of yours. Why are you worried, baby? We should be celebrating right now, hand in hand with some dr—“
“I’m not in the mood, Vox. Really.” You cut in, your fists tightening at your sides as you move around him to continue pacing around the room. “I don’t want to hear about how this is a good thing, when it’s something I never wanted, not now, at least. I wasn’t ready.”
He pauses, eyes scanning your form for a moment before his grin is back smoothly displayed on his screen. “Alright alright, we don’t have to talk about it. Come back into the lobby with me and we can forget all about this tonight. Val is beside himself with anxiety, we can settle down for the night with him.”
“No—“ you begin, expression crumpling before Vox narrows his eyes as soon as the words leave your mouth.
“No?” He repeats, leveling her with a look.
“I don’t… want to just act like everything is okay. Vox, I don’t— this isn’t right. I told you I didn’t want to get pulled into the spotlight, the public.” You stop pacing, instead standing there with a conflicted look in your eyes.
“I didn’t do this, so why am I being punished?” He raises a brow, moving his screen to catch your gaze again. He didn’t care if you were being stubborn, if she wanted to talk, they’d talk. He offered you a way out and you didn’t take the damn olive branch. Typical of you when things got like this.
“Because—! Velvette didn’t know, why didn’t you ever tell the Vee’s that we were hiding it for a reason?” You’d hissed out, your hands reaching up to tangle in your hair, seconds away from pulling.
“NONE OF THAT.” Vox’s voice blared out at a higher volume, a momentary glitch flickering across his screen abruptly as his arms immediately extended out to grasp at your hands, stopping your from trying to yank on your hair out of frustration.
He watched you with an intensity as you briefly paused, then grit your teeth and lower your hands, clasping them tightly around your necklace instead.
He eased up, letting his arms extend back into him after letting go of you. Straightening himself back up, he considered your words.
“It slipped my mind.” It didn’t. “I thought they’d understand because we never made it public.” He never told them for a reason, deep down hoping something like this might happen. It worked, didn’t it? The Vee’s were the talk of the town now, like they always were, the frenzied public eating it up. Not pictured on his screen was him monitoring the comments on the broadcast that he refused to take down.
“Still, I…” Your voice wavers, and he knows he’s almost got you. He’s so close to winning this, to having you back in his arms and the publicity he wanted so desperately, having both would be so, so fucking satisfying.
And then.
“You’re not listening to me, are you? It slipped your mind? It should have been the very first thing you told them after I made it clear to you, considering we spend a lot of our time around the other Vee’s.” You seem to harden with your resolve, gaze flickering to the floor before it settled back to him.
The hell?
He was so close. What happened now?
“Baby, I—“
“Don’t call me that right now.” You interrupt, strict.
“…Alright, then. I’m sorry, but what’s done is done. I can’t take back my mistake, or Velvette’s.” He tries, his voice a faux soothing tone. “Let’s not argue, okay? I just want to hold you right now, you look so…” He trailed off. Honestly, you looked fine right now, a far cry from your earlier trembling and muttering when he’d first checked the cameras of your room hours ago.
“Take down the broadcast.”
“What?” No, absolutely not. That fucking video was earning them so much money right now, and engagement. Why the fuck would he do that?
“Take down the broadcast and put out a statement that Velvette was just exaggerating, that there’s nothing going on.” You calmly stated, then gave him a look, something he hadn’t seen before, not when you usually gave into him and his words.
“We— We can’t do that,” He glitches slightly, before forcing his circuits back into a stable flow. “That’ll just make things worse, and it’s likely been uploaded a million times over on other people’s channels for commentary.”
“Take it down and we can go back to how things were.” You repeat, posture stiffening the more and more he refused. “It’s not the first time Velvette has stirred something up for publicity, they’ll understand.”
“Baby, no. What’s done is done. Wiping it out won’t change things, it’ll just douse more gas onto the fire.” Vox frowned, his hands reaching out for you. “We can make this better. We can keep public appearances to a minimum, we can do whatever you want, but taking it down isn’t going to magically make it all better.”
He watches as your brows knit together, and as you try again. “Take it down, and we can work from there. Please.” You let out a small sigh, your wings trembling a bit as you maintain your composure for the most part.
“I can’t, you know that. People are going to think we have something to hide.” Vox takes a deep breath, unnecessarily but a habit from when he was alive, in order to keep his cool. “Baby, be reasonable.”
“I am being reasonable. I just— Why can’t you do it? Take it down, Vox. Delete the broadcast and we—“
“I SAID I’m not taking SHIT down—“ Vox glitches in a sudden surge of frustration, his screen flashing a multitude of colors before settling on an angry red that blares brightly for a few moments, a string of incomprehensible text rapidly filling the screen. “You s—sound like a fucking broken record, th—this video is making us money and you want to stop it? Who the fuck do you think pays for y—your shit? Ssssshut the fuc—“ The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, the sudden error preventing him from filtering his true thoughts out. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. He can see the beginning of realization of what he just said dawn on his girlfriend’s face as he immediately clamps his mouth closed, forcing himself to play damage control before things get more out of hand.
“Baby, I didn’t mean that, I—“ He begins, that soft, coaxing tone returning, a sharp contrast to the vulgar and harsh biting sound he’d just spilled out. The petname is laced with something sweet and belittling, as if this was just another tantrum about his lack of awareness about the cameras. You, however, cut in again.
“I told you to stop calling me that.” You speak up, eerily calm now. With a deep breath, you give him that same stare you had before. “You’re not listening to me. Is that what you’ve been thinking all along? You’re a fucking asshole is what you are.” You grip at your necklace, before yanking on it hard enough that the strong snaps and beads fly everywhere in every direction.
“You’re not listening and all you care about is fucking profit. Why am I sitting here wasting my breath talking to a wall when it’s clear you’ve already decided what to do? Fuck you, fuck the Vee’s, and fuck all of Hell. I’m out of here.” You seethe, hands dropping the broken string and some of the beads, and Vox watches as they hit the floor.
He’d given her that pair.
It gave him a headache to make it, but he’d done it for her because she couldn’t find anything she liked in stores. Only a fucking simp would do what he did. A bastard in love would spend their time making it even with his stupid fucking claws, who just watched them tear that shit over a stupid fucking argument on something that was clearly unavoidable. He opens his mouth to fire back another response but you take a step towards the door and all of his composure goes out the window right in that moment.
“STAY.” His voice blares out, speakers blasting with the force of his command and his screen contorts into a swirling pattern, a hypnotic expression overtaking your face the moment your eyes settle on the screen the moment you turn your head, and he sees the effects of his, immediately activated at your movements, hypnosis begin to repay benefits as you remains rooted into your place.
There’s a brief moment of clarity for him. Ah. So it does work on you after all. Then, a deep seated panic hits him. M -;You’r)e going to fffffucking kill h—hi,m.
He freezes, then forces himself into action.
With a trembling hand, he points towards the bed. “…Sit down.”
He watches as your limbs begin to move, expression blank as you seat yourself on the edge of the bed. Your wings are limp, gaze glassy as you wait aimlessly for further directions.
He swallows thickly, before re-engaging the locks on the door, then disables the swirling pattern as soon as the locks click back into place. He’s never used his hypnosis on her for the entirety of their relationship, no matter how infuriating or tedious their arguments got. He’s never been tempted enough to try, but the passing thought if it would work occasionally flickered through his mind. He almost brought it up once to ask her opinion about using it in the bedroom before he decided that was much too insane to ask during their peaceful dinner at one of the hellfire Michelin restaurants he’d taken her to. He didn’t want her to choke on her steak because he couldn’t keep his curiosity in check.
He can only watch as her expression morphs from a listless blank one to slow realization. Then, big tears start to slowly fall from her eyes, silently slipping down her cheeks.
He’s fucked up again.
“Baby, no no, no…” He moves to kneel beside you, taking your hand in his securely. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want you to leave. Please, let’s talk about this.”
But all you do is continue to sob silently, pulling your hand away immediately.
Vox's digital heart sinks at the sight of her pulling her hand away, the tears streaming down her face like a silent accusation towards him. He knows he fucked up, did something he shouldn’t have, crossed a line he can’t uncross at one of the worst moments he could have chosen to.
“Love, please.” He pleads, remaining kneeled beside you on one knee. “I know I fucked up, I should have never— I was scared you were going to leave a-and I panicked.”
He almost wants to reach out and just bring you in, take you into his arms and comfort you, hold you until things start to make sense again, or until he’s sure he isn’t losing the thing he wanted to stay most despite it all.
“Just— Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything to make this right. Please, what do you need right now?” He hates the way he sounds right now, everything is tinged in desperation and a plea for her to stay.
“I just,” Another choked sob. You reach your hands up to harshly wipe at your eyes, more tears silently streaming down your face. “—want to go home, I don’t want to be here anymore.”
He feels a sharp jolt of pure desperation, rejection, everything he didn’t want, stab through him. He nearly glitches out again, his screen flickering before he bypasses it and forces his composure.
“But this is your home—“
“Vox, please. I want to go home now.”
"Okay, okay," Vox responds quickly, his voice a low sound, trying to soothe you despite the tension that fills the air between them. "You can go… home. I won't stop you. I just—can we talk first? Please?"
He knows he’s about to lose you, right on the edge. He knows he can’t logically force you to stay forever, you’re falling apart just at a few moments under his hypnosis, it isn’t feasible and he knows that.
"I'll have one of the cars take you wherever you want to go," Vox offers, his words laced with regret. He isn’t sure where you’ll go, but he wants to know you’re there safe. "Just let me make sure you get there safely. That's all I ask. Let me make sure you're safe."
You sniffle, your eyes reddened with more tears as you slowly shake your head. “N…No please, I’ll be okay…”
His screen flickers, limbs twitching with need. He has to force down another error from surfacing, bad enough to almost make him crash. The only thing he can do right now is agree. With a swipe of his hand, the digital locks unlock and the door swings open.
“Alright, if that’s… if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you anymore.” He speaks up after a moment, an overwhelming sense of loss washing over him as he concedes. “Just… be careful, okay? Hell isn’t as kind as you think it is.”
The least he can do is watch over you, right?
He has cameras all over the city, she’ll be fine. He’ll be watching over his beloved to make sure she gets home just fine. He doesn’t know where that is, but he’s sure to find out now. And when she’s ready to talk, they’ll talk and iron this out. It’s not like this is the end of everything, what would he tell the other Vee’s? The media? What would he do?
He swallows, then takes a step back. “Just… text me when you feel better, okay?”
“Yeah… Okay…” You nod slowly, then stand up from the bed. Your wings are curled around yourself protectively, and you begin to walk towards the now unlocked door. With each step you take, Vox twitches a bit, hands trembling with the need to reach out and stop you himself. He contemplates something, and with a grimace, his screen activates it’s hypnotic swirl. He hopes you’ll look back at him for just a moment, just for a second. All he needs is just one moment and he can get them to talk this out.
“G—Goodbye, take care of yourself. Talk soon, okay? Message me when you’re home safe.” He forces out, his screen going pixelated with various colors in a moment for a moment before resuming its swirl. You pause your steps, as if contemplating something before you swallow, and continue on your way out. Without sparing him a glance as you go.
You don’t look back at him. Instead, you mumble something he can’t catch out, probably a half-hearted goodbye, and walk out on him.
The text never comes and neither do you.
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queensunshinee · 2 days
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 3
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Part 3:
Liana hadn't seen Art for three days. Ever since they started studying at Stanford, not a day had gone by without his presence being felt. Even if just for five minutes, he would pop up suddenly and disappear just as quickly. Liana wouldn’t say it out loud, but his presence had started to grow on her. She was never the most popular kid or the most popular teen. She always had two or three friends. And Art, it's not very clear who he is in her life, but he's a figure that's there. Present. Breathing the air she breathes. Knowing the people she knows. Laughing at her words, annoying her with his. She hadn't seen him for three days and it's bothering her. So today, she decided to go to the open practice for the first time, and Art wasn't there either.
"Are you looking for Art?" a female voice sounded behind her, and she turned around. Facing her was Tashi. Liana searched for the words, something that was always complicated for her; finding words in front of people she didn’t know or felt threatened by. Right now, she needed to answer 'yes' or 'no', and all she could do was stare. "You're Liana, right? Patrick showed me a picture of you with the boys, and I’ve seen you a few times with Art. Are you looking for him?" she explained and asked again. "Oh, yeah..." Liana managed to find her voice, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. Unwanted color flooding in. "Did you see him?" she squeaked, trying to steady herself in front of the girl before her. "He just texted that he wasn't coming to practice today. Nice to finally meet you. Maybe we can have lunch sometime." She smiled briefly and moved towards the court, leaving Liana in the stands. A bit more worried than she had been before.
She knocked on his door three times. Then another three. And then six more. After the fifth round, he opened it for her. It was the first time she had been in his room, and he couldn't hide his surprise. "Li?" Art's voice sounded weaker than usual. "You didn't come to the open practice," she said coolly, looking at him and furrowing her brows. He didn't look good. In fact, he looked like shit. His hair looked greasy, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sunken with dark circles around them. Art Donaldson looked awful. "What happened to you?" She gave his arm a light push, which made him lose his balance and almost fall, but he understood her intention and moved aside. He ran a hand through his hair, a tic she knew he had; when Art was nervous, frustrated, or confused, his hand automatically went to the back of his neck, a few seconds of that until he gets a grip and acts as if nothing had thrown him off balance. "You were at the open practice?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Stuck on that piece of information. Almost wanting to request that the sentence be engraved on his tombstone when the time came. 'Here lies Art Donaldson, whose open practice Liana Levi attended.' His parents would surely be thrilled. "For four and a half minutes, then I realized you weren't there." She said as she walked to the window and opened it. "Your room stinks," she stated, turning her gaze back to him. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" she added. Sure, they weren't best friends, but they were supposed to be each other's emergency contact. They were supposedly here together. He made sure to remind her of that once a day. And now, in a real emergency, he wasn't talking to her. "Because it doesn't matter, I already feel better," he tried to speak in a more upbeat tone, one he thought characterized him but failed miserably at it. Her hand was on his forehead, causing him to immediately lean into it and close his eyes. "You're burning up, damn it, Art." She moved her hand from his forehead to his cheek, realizing that the situation might be worse than she thought and beginning to think of a plan. "Okay, I need you to get in the shower, alright?" she spoke softly. He looked at her, his mouth half-open. "Where's your spare key?" she asked, without looking at him too much, opening the closet intending to find clean sheets there. Art watched her bustle around his room, and despite feeling awful, worse than he had felt probably in the last two years, he found himself smiling. Liana was worried about him. She would make sure he was okay. "Art, do you hear me? I need you to get in the shower, I'm going to get a few things. Can you do that for me? I'll be back in half an hour." she said assertively, and he handed her the key as she requested. "Please be done with your shower when I get back." She ran her hand over his forehead once more, almost causing him to surrender to her touch and close his eyes again, but just as she had entered like a storm, she left like one.
Liana went down to the cafeteria after making a phone order. She returned to her room with the soup and grabbed the bag she had prepared for Art. When she entered his room, the shower water was still running, so she decided to use the time to change his sheets and put the lemon, ginger, and honey in his fridge. He came out in a towel and looked at her, leaning against the doorframe. He felt blessed. His head hurt, he had sneezed forty times that day, and all his muscles ached, yet he felt blessed. "You didn't have to, Li..." he mumbled, and she turned to him. "Good, you're out. Get dressed and eat the soup. If it's cold, let me know and I'll go heat it up." There was a microwave on each floor, so that was an option. Art went back to the bathroom and put on long pants, unable to bring himself to wear a shirt. "I also brought you some pills I had. If you need anything else, I can go get it, this is just what I had in my room," Liana babbled, realizing she was behaving in an uncharacteristic way. It dawned on her too late that Art probably thought she was crazy. More than that, that he didn't want her presence in his room right now. She had invaded his personal space and decided on her own that she was there to stay, when he hadn't really invited her. He had done everything to avoid seeing her in the past few days. He sat down to eat the soup at his desk, unable to take his eyes off her for fear she would disappear and he would be alone again, wallowing in his own misery. "Is it hot?" she asked, not knowing what else to say. "It's great. Thanks, Li," he smiled sincerely, and she reached her hand towards his forehead again. "Can I?" she made sure to ask this time, hesitating and seeing him nod. Her hand moved from his forehead to his cheek automatically, and he sighed for a second. "You're still warm." Her brow furrowed again. "When you finish, take this pill, okay? It's supposed to help with the fever..." she added, starting to gather her things. "Are you leaving?" he asked. Art's voice sounded more desperate than he intended. He wanted to sound indifferent, as if he didn't mind being alone. As if the last three days hadn't been an isolated nightmare filled with self-pity. "You can stay a bit longer. If you want," he added quickly, saying the sentence fast as if it would make it vanish from the air. "Okay," Liana said and nodded. "We can watch an episode of 'Gilmore Girls'," she smiled. Every summer, she forced Art and Patrick to watch a few episodes of 'Gilmore Girls'. If she had to be stuck with them, at least some of the time they would do what she loved. She was sure they liked the show because sometimes they would make comments about it. Art shrugged while finishing the soup, acting as if he didn't care if she stayed or not. In reality, he wanted to smile victoriously because he had won today. No one could argue that Art was the winner of this day. "You can take a shirt from my closet if you want," he told her, and she nodded. If they were going to watch an episode of the show, they would watch it on his laptop, in his bed. She couldn't stay dressed in jeans, and besides, they had seen each other in much less clothing over the years. So Liana put on one of his oversized boxers and a Stanford shirt that was at least two sizes too big for both of them. Art looked at her and nodded for a moment, lying down in bed and waiting for the moment she would say it was too much for her. That despite all her good intentions, she and Art weren't going to share a bed just so he could feel better. They hadn't done that since they were six, probably because she wouldn't even sit next to him on the same couch. "We're in Logan's season, are you excited?" she asked with exaggerated enthusiasm and sat down next to him. He automatically pulled her closer. "Aren't you afraid of getting sick?" he felt like the biggest jerk in the world for asking only after he had pulled her that close. "My immune system has never let me down, Donaldson, and it’s not going to let me down today." She started the episode while getting comfortable next to him.
As the episode progressed, her hand found its way to his hair, playing with one of his blonde curls that, just like Art Donaldson himself, had grown on her. "That feels nice…" his voice was barely audible as he was close to falling asleep, his head half on the pillow and half on her shoulder while his arm was wrapped around her. Just before Art fell asleep, focused on Liana's breathing and her fingers in his hair, instead of the show, he realized he didn't need much to feel good.
heyyy there. How are we feeling about this chapter? I hope the slow burn isn't too slow for you...any thoughts? I know that Patrick wasn't here at all, but he'll have his comeback, don't worry. Also, should I do a tag list? It feels a little too much since I really don't know if there are readers who want to come back. I really want to hear from you so feel free to talk to me (PLEASE). By the way- I still feel like my English is ruining the story, but again, I'm trying. Thanks for reading. It means a lot ❤️
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strawberrywinter4 · 2 days
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May Prompt 29 | Hero
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Warnings: Violence and a little bit of steamy stuff at the end (definitely not too bad though)
——
John Watson has always been known for his heroic antics. It’s in his nature, it’s who he is. Sherlock has always found it admiring, though of course, he’s never been one to show it.
John Watson is a force to be reckoned with. He puts up a fight when needed and defends the weak. Sherlock knows this is because John has been in the weak’s position before, so he has a feeling on what it’s like to be so helpless.
Yes, John is a hero. He serves and protects. He’s a loyal individual who knows what he wants.
Right now? Sherlock hates it.
Right now, Sherlock wishes John were a selfish man who only provided for himself.
It always begins with an innocent person who’s stuck themselves in a predicament. Sherlock and John were on a case, and they happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. The suspect was pointing a pistol at their next victim, ready to fire it. Sherlock and John walked in just in time. John tried to talk him out of it, but the man had vigorous eyes that showed no sign of dropping the gun. John saw this. Damn John for his somewhat acceptable observation skills.
John ran forward right as the pistol went off, tackling the victim to the floor to save him.
Sherlock’s breath hitched, his mind stopped, and his body broke out into a cold sweat.
John, on the floor, holding a man tight, maybe shot, maybe not.
Sherlock wanted to cry, scream, kill, anything that would represent the terror that settled in him.
His mind coming back after a few moments, Sherlock saw the man raise the pistol again, and Sherlock attacked him. He fought for the gun, threw it to the side with purposeful force, and began beating the man with no mercy. It must have lasted for a while since his hand became numb. He felt strong arms grasp his sides and pull him back effectively, dragging him into a firm chest that instantly brought him comfort.
Sherlock turned, meeting steel blue eyes that forced him to calm. Before Sherlock knew it, police were parading the scene and taking care of the loose ends. Sherlock could barely form two words, shock still coursing in him. John took care of everything else, receiving praise for his actions.
How dare they. How dare they congratulate his selfless acts that nearly got him killed. Sherlock held a sneer for the rest of the time.
They have returned to Baker Street, and John senses Sherlock’s anger. They don’t say anything as they take off their coats, hanging it on the rack.
In effortless composure, John walks into the kitchen to make tea. Sherlock wants to tell until his lungs give out. Yes, they’ve encountered dangerous situations before, but the bullet was centimeters away from John. Sherlock could have lost him. Sherlock could have come home alone tonight.
“Tea?” John asks from the kitchen, as if his mere existence isn’t a miracle. “I know you’ve been running off an empty stomach for—”
“Shut up,” Sherlock interrupts, striding to John and cupping his bewildered face before colliding their lips together. Sherlock sighs through his nose in relief at feeling the familiar softness. John hums in delight, gripping Sherlock’s waist and pulling him closer.
Once John pulls away, he’s grinning like a mad man. However, when he sets his gaze on Sherlock’s troubled expression that he tries to keep neutral, though it’s no use, his face morphs into concern.
“Sherlock—”
“Don’t,” Sherlock says, and he’s surprised to find that his voice is edging on cracking. “You are an idiot.”
“What?”
“An absolute idiot,” Sherlock repeats, eyes flooding with tears that he would find embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that John almost died. “Is there some requirement that’s bestowed upon you that you have to risk your life?” Sherlock scolds, his tone built in frustration. “You don’t always have to be a hero, John. It’s—I almost…you could have—”
“But I didn’t,” John whispers, taking his hands. “Sherlock…love, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Sherlock scoffs. “No, but you were going to risk your life so that I would find you dead?”
John’s face turns stern. “That wasn’t my intention and you know it.”
“It certainly seemed like it,” Sherlock bites back. “You jumped in front of a bullet.”
“It was a reaction, Sherlock. It all happened so quick.”
“That doesn’t excuse you!” Sherlock snaps. “You almost left me, John. All because you wanted to be some savior—”
“Yeah. I jumped in front of a bullet because I wanted all of London to hear my fucking name in the papers,” John replies with seething sarcasm.
Sherlock shrugs John’s warmth off him, walking into the living area. He will not cry over this. He will not cry over John yelling at him. Overstimulation is a weakness that’s so human, it makes Sherlock sick.
Sherlock hears a sigh behind him, and he knows John is either running a hand through his hair in thought or rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.
A moment later, hands wrap around his waist, and John turns him so that they’re facing each other. Sherlock’s arms are crossed, closed off. He stubbornly doesn’t make eye contact with John, though the doctor doesn’t make any effort to push for that sort of attention.
Instead, to Sherlock’s surprise, he leans forward and kisses his jaw. The soft run of lips make Sherlock’s lips open partly, his hands coming up to grip John’s shoulders. John’s lips travel down to his open neck, where he begins to breath in fully, as if memorizing his scent. Sherlock’s hand fists through John’s hair when the former soldier begins sucking marks on his skin, no shame attached.
At a particularly hard bite in the middle of his throat, Sherlock gasps, “John.”
“Sometimes showing you is better than words,” John murmurs, his focus now placed on licking up Sherlock’s throat.
Sherlock tries to stammer out something, but what for? John’s determination has kicked in, and the doctor is ruining his neck like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
“You know I love you,” John says, kissing around a bruise that Sherlock knows is turning a deep purple. “You know that I would do anything for you, love. But you must acknowledge that I know where my loyalties lie. My first instinct is to…” A lap of tongue around the base of his neck. Sherlock whimpers. “…protect you. However, this was a situation I needed to act quickly on. No, wasn’t sure if the bullet would hit me or not, and I apologize for making you worry so. But the man needed my helped and I helped. I wasn’t trying to prove anything and I certainly wasn’t trying to make you lose me.” John kisses up his neck, then his jaw, and then finally his lips. They kiss for a long moment before John pulls away, his breath against Sherlock’s. “All right?”
Sherlock, still in a bit of a daze, nods. “All right.”
“I will try to be more careful.” He picks up Sherlock’s hand and kisses it. “You know I adore every piece of you. I never want you to worry like that again, but…”
“Yes, I know,” Sherlock breathes. “It’s part of The Work.”
“I know you know.” John sends him a pointed look. “And you’re not free from this blame either. You get yourself in dangerous situations all the time.”
Sherlock rolls his eyes. “Yes, but I actually know what I’m doing.”
John gives him a glare that’s sparked with mischief in his eyes. “We’ll talk about that later, but first I think I need to take you to bed.”
“That seems most delightful. And John?”
“Hm?”
“I adore you as well.”
——
I know I haven’t been posting a lot. I’ve been so busy lol. But just a little something for @calaisreno ‘s prompts. Thank you!
Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @thegildedbee @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @7-percent @itsonlytext @chinike @peanitbear @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @jolieblack @gwendelaneyisjohnlocked @cortina @kettykika78 @johnlockbbc @dapetty
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Animals
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another request 🙏please go easy on me if it happens to be cringe, this is the first spicy thing i've ever written but i tried 💔
18+ | patrick zweig x male reader | 1893 words | if you liked it enough pls reblog 🥲 it motivates me greatly
PS i love all three of them. do not separate. this is just a patrick centric one shot <3
You sat down on the carpeted floor in front the two, eyeing them with an amused grin. Nothing happened yet but surely, good company paired with alcohol promised to be a good time.
Both Patrick and Art donned the same smile, and it was a pleasant surprise how easily you got along, plus you were sure the 6-pack you brought in addition helped a bit.  
"So... Fire and Ice... isn't that a bit cheesy?" you asked, finishing the second can of beer you had while they sipped along in tandem. Patrick let out an amused little snort, Art grinning and shrugging at the question as if the answer was obvious. Biting your lip, you looked from one to the other, just taking in the atmosphere that was both arousing and just that sort of lazy, relaxed kind of air. The kind that naturally occurred when you started drinking with two other hot tennis players who just happened to be dudes. Even in your half-hazy state though it didn't escape how Patrick eyed you up and down occasionally, more so than Art.
"Well, in our defense, we didn't come up with that, it just... happened  one time, and then it started circulating and just kinda stuck."  Nodding in understanding, you set the empty can aside, you leaned on your knees forward, looking between the two boys with a dopey grin, who more or less looked the same.
"What?"
"Truth or dare."
Art rolled his eyes.
"C'mon..."
"Come ooonnn this is like the truth or dare situation. There's no better time for this." you pleaded. You would've asked what you wanted to anyway, but this was more fun, and a hazy summer night like this basically begged for it.
"Yeah, come on Ice." Patrick joined you leaning closer to him before sitting back with a satisfied smile on his face. Nodding as if that's all you needed to hear, you didn't waste any time asking the question that had been plaguing your mind since the match they played previously that day, seeing how they celebrated after Patrick hit the winner.  
"So... have you two ever, y'know... together...?"  
"I don't think that's how you play truth or dare..."
"A-ha, you're totally deflecting dude, I knew it!" you pointed at Art who leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling, exasperatedly shaking his head, strawberry blonde curls bouncing with the movement. You looked at Patrick for help, hoping he'd be more willing to share,  which honestly you had no real doubts about. In fact, he looked like he was dying to tell you. You were feeling good, really good, this was fun.
"....Well--"
"PATrick, no."
Art was hiding his face in his shirt now, and that small gesture was so adorably shy of him it was almost unbearable. God, they both were. They really were fire and ice, but now you saw that in a completely new light. Patrick was all showing off and completely unashamed, while Art was somewhat held back, you noticed. They're both really fun though.
"Patrick yes?" you pleaded, goading him further, fully lowering down onto the floor comfortably on your stomach. His mouth pursed, but his smile never left his face, especially now seeing you in that position. He subtly tried to shift his legs in a way that could make his half-mast dick less apparent (emphasis on tried). He wondered if you just changed position to do the same. Now half-laying on the carpeted floor, you were situated next to Patrick's stretched-out legs, and Art on your other side peeking out from his shirt, shaking his head at the other.
"Don't leave a bro hanging like that, dude..." You looked at Art with the dopiest smile ever, and he knew he couldn't stop this, it was clear by the heavy sigh that left him. Despite the situation, he still felt relaxed with you here, aside from how you teamed up on him with Patrick. The beer almost made him forget that they invited Tashi too and he wondered if she was still going to show up.
"Oh my god dude, Patrick's gonna tell you anyway..." he mumbled out before a sudden ring made all three heads perk up.
"Your phone's ringing."
"I can hear it dickhead,"
Looking between the two of them, you watched with a snort as Art scrambled to find his phone with the elegance of a sloth on Adderall. Looking at the caller ID with a roll of his eyes, he begrudgingly went for the door, and you made a mock-displeased face at him, thinking he could walk out like that and not see his expression during Patrick's storytime.
"Ugh, I gotta go and take this..."
"Pfft, nice excuse Art..."
He took his leave, but not without flipping the both of you off for good measure.
Immediately, at the same time, you looked at Patrick, and Patrick at you almost conspiratorially, and yet you weren't even sure why, it was just first instinct. You couldn't deny, the first thought in your brain at the invitation to their hotel room was nothing less than obscene. They were both so fucking hot. Ascending to sit on the pushed-together beds, casual as ever you observed the room a bit more keenly before your eyes were back on him again. The message behind your movements didn't escape him.
"So... 'm still dying to know how it went."
Setting down the mostly empty can on the cluttered drawer behind him, Patrick rose up, not bothering to hide the tent in his pants anymore.
It only took half a moment for Patrick to straddle you, pushing you back down as you let out an amused huff at his eagerness before it turned into a strangled moan. Your clothed dick rubbed against his, another moan from Patrick following yours.
"I got other things on my mind right now, maybe later..." he gave that same cheeky grin that was present on his face most of the time.
"I wanted to do this the moment I saw you play..." The mention of that made you buck your hips into his instinctively, imagining just how Art and Patrick observed you with calculating eyes as you played the day before. You wish you could've seen that. You could see the smugness ooze from his expression, pleased with your reaction. You didn't let him get a word out though, pulling him down suddenly over by his shirt and he quickly got the message, all the while never ceasing the movement of his hips.
Your senses were quickly taken over by his smell, and you hated how much that turned you on even more, wanting to feel more of him, physically and in every other way. Not how you expected to find this out about yourself, but you quickly shoved that thought in the back of your brain as Patrick bit down on your lip, resulting in another throaty moan out of you.
You returned the sentiment enthusiastically, grabbing at the sleeves of his shirt and tugging it down carelessly, Patrick having the same idea. He didn't stop the assault on your senses, sliding his hands up your torso before he got rid of your shirt too.
"Fuck me..." Patrick growled out at the sight, and you couldn't help but grin, arching your back off the bed as if taunting him for a moment.
"No, you-"
"Shut up..." with that, he was back on you, palms stroking up and down your pectorals. It was hot, messy and sweaty as he kissed you, the only thing you could do was snake your fingers through his curls as his nose bumped into yours, and teeth clashed in the process. You didn't know kissing could turn you on this much, seeing as you could feel yourself close to cumming inside your underwear embarrassingly soon.
"'M gonna cum dude--mmph--"
"Good," he mumbled out against your mouth, reaching down to unbutton his shorts, before pulling down yours just the same. You groaned out into his mouth at feeling his hand wrap around the both of you, eyes rolling back into your head, which didn't escape Patrick's notice, letting out an amused chuckle at your blissed-out expression.
"Anyone else ever jerk you off, huh...?"
"Mm... n-no... fuck..."
You could imagine his hands were just as calloused as yours from the way you held a racket, and you were correct, and yet it still felt so different from your own hand as he slowly began stroking the both of you at the same time, your cock twitching against his as your mixed pre coated your flesh.
"I can only guess you got that treatment though..." you huffed out as Patrick moved down to your jaw now, licking and biting messily, letting you take a breather, and you could feel him grin into your neck in response, which was enough of an answer for you. He squeezed his hand occupied with your dick against his, not far behind you as he slightly sped up, the movement becoming frenzied and in turn making you raise your hips further up against his.
"Fuck, 'm close, 'm close..."
"Mm, me too..." This time, his voice was almost a whine as his forehead lay on your collarbone, and it was weirdly endearing. You couldn't help but brush your fingers through his hair again affectionately, unable to hold any moans back now.
Just as you thought that you could possibly hold on for a moment longer, Patrick's thumb began swiping at the tip of your cock, and as if in an instant you were thoroughly overstimulated out of nowhere, which is what exactly Patrick imagined would happen.
"That feel good, hmph...?"
That easy smile never left his face, watching your expression only helping him further as he kept stroking, looking down, and seeing your cum coat the flat of your belly. It was fucking dirty and he loved it. If he didn't know better he would've thought you passed out by the way you laid so limp under him, aside from the few twitches in his hand. He bit down on your neck to see if it would bring out another reaction from you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." you felt his teeth against your pulse point, mouthing little praises and growls into your skin before he tensed up against you, his grip tightening as he released all over your abdomen with a strangled groan, collapsing down on you with a deep sigh. You were both feeling sticky with sweat and cum, more so as Patrick laid over you tiredly, gently petting the back of his head again as you both caught your breath, feeling his now limp length against yours sending a shiver down your spine, slowly processing what just happened.
"Fuck... you do that often...?" you mumbled out after a few moments of quiet panting.
"What, y'mean with Art...?" he replied with a question of his own, smiling lazily, just barely turning to look up at you. You couldn't help but snort out loud at the reply, letting that answer linger in the air, content to just lay there for a few more minutes in silence with the warmth of another body against yours. Until both of you heard the door creak open, completely missing the sound of footsteps leading up to the room.
"Hey, Tashi came-- nope, nope, fuck. Fucking Christ Patrick."
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madridfangirl · 21 hours
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Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fanfic)
Chapter 2
Jude * female reader. No warnings.
……………………………………………
A few hours later that evening, when Jobe checked his phone, he found two notifications from his brother.
Two messages sent, 15 mins apart, but both deleted shortly after. He decided to ping him to check in.
Jobe: Hey wassup?
Jude: Hey. Just about to crash.
Jobe: Anything playing on your mind? Nervous about tomorrow?
Jude smiled at his screen before answering. The answer was yes, in more ways than one.
Jude: A bit, yes. Yet, I can’t wait for tomorrow to come. It’s strange but, y’know what I mean?
Jobe: It’s warranted I guess. First Classico of your life, that too at home. Would be intense. But exciting too.
Jude: Hmm.
Jobe: Should I ask Mom to call you? She would anyway call tomorrow morning, though.
Jude: Nah let it be. Let her take care of Aunt Tracie. I know she wanted to be with me here for this but that’s important too. I am anyway gonna crash soon.
Jobe: Good luck for tomorrow. Kill it.
Jude: Thanks mate, need the luck. Talk to you soon.
He put the phone down, dimmed the lights and pulled the blanket all the way over his head. After tossing and turning for 10 mins, he checked his Whatsapp again.
No message from her. But she was online. Her DP was super cute, he thought. A sun-kissed photo on a beach in a yellowish floral dress.
Jude: Reached safely?
He went with the only segue he could think of. 45 seconds later, blue tick.
Ananya had reached just a few mins ago. One hour’s work took over two coz she just couldn’t focus. And she actually ended up getting stuck in the rain, just as he had predicted.
Just then, his name flashed on the phone. Reminding her that she hadn’t hallucinated all this. Her roommate was blasting music loudly in her room, in the weekend spirit. If only she knew what happened, she would die. Roma was an Indian American, who had never really lived in India. She was her colleague at work and as big a Madridista as her. They had hit it off instantly during the internship last year.
Ananya: Hey, yes I am home. Thanks for checking in :)
Jude: Super :)
She tapped her thumb on the phone screen, thinking whether her next question would make her look silly. But she decided to ask anyway.
Ananya: Is there some of..dress code for players box? I see a lot of people dressed in suits and formals.
Jude: No no, those are the corporate / business guys mostly. You can wear whatever you want.
Ananya: So, I can wear my jersey?
That brought a big smile to his face.
Jude: Ofcourse, dove! In fact, I would insist you do that :)
Instead of asking which jersey, rather whose jersey she was gonna wear, he tried a different tactic.
Jude: I could get the latest season’s one sent to you before the match.
Ananya: Nice try. But I have a favourite one I am planning to wear. You can guess whose it’s gonna be.
Jude: Can I change your mind?
Ananya: From now to tomorrow evening, I highly doubt it.
Jude: Is that a challenge, dove?
Ananya: Don’t you have an important match to focus on tomorrow?
He sighed.
Jude: I do. Really should have crashed by now.
Ananya: Think about how dreamy tomorrow would be. Even the ride through the training ground to the stadium would be nuts - thousands of fans on the streets. We need you well rested and charged up, and I am speaking on behalf of all fans when I say this. Close your eyes and get your beauty sleep now.
He chuckled over how quickly she switched from her own self to a fan representative.
Jude: Are you working for Carlo on the side and not telling me?
Ananya: Maybe, who knows. Good night, Jude. Sleep well. You would be amazing tomorrow.
Jude: Thank you. And Ananya?
Ananya: Yes?
Jude: I can’t wait to see you in my box tomorrow, cheering for me. Good night, dove!
With that, he finally put his phone down, snoring softly in a few mins.
But she ended up staring at her phone for a good 15 mins. The last line. Him calling her dove. Dear lord, what even was happening? This made no sense. They had nothing in common. This was not logical at all. The surrealism of it made her pinch herself a few times. She looked back at his DP - hugging his mom during his signing, both with a big smile. It was so sweet. Everything about him was so sweet. So normal. How could it be?
She shook her head and went to her roommate to break the news. Roma didn’t believe her at once but when she saw the passes, and a few messages from him as she practically snatched the phone away from Ananya, she jumped around like a 5 year old girl on a sugar high.
Ananya just laughed at her friend’s antics. She kept her anxiety on the Jude situation aside for a moment, at Roma’s insistence, and the two just celebrated getting to watch a Classico tomorrow. And, to see Zidane up close. The joy of the moment took over the nerves and they both jumped on the bed, hugging each other. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
Next evening, they reached well in advance, not wanting to take any chances with traffic or queues. The players box and the attached lounge were luxurious - the girls checked out the place thoroughly, sampling the appetisers and drinks. 30 mins later, when the girls went back to their seats, Ananya found a few unread messages popping on her phone. They were from him. She held the phone close to her chest, so others don’t see the name, and clicked on the messages.
Jude: Reached?
And then, a from few mins later.
Jude: Came out for warmup. Didn’t see you in the box. Stuck somewhere?
She quickly typed the response.
Ananya: We are here. Sorry, lost track of the time while checking out the place and trying to get Zizou in a selfie frame. Not so much a selfie but us trying to get an angle with him included, while he was having his croissant far away.
Blue tick. Immediately.
Jude: Haha, he’s a nice chap. You could just ask him for a selfie.
Ananya: Considering I ran away when he looked in my direction, don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.
Jude: (laughing emoji)
She was still feeling guilty for missing the warm-up, so she decided to send him two photos. The first was the half selfie with Zidane, and the second was her in the box with her three friends, with the field as the background.
There was silence for a bit. She thought he must be getting ready to come back on the field, so she started checking her insta and added the two photos. The fan groups she were a part of would go nuts at this, she already knew.
Two minutes later, his name flashed again.
Jude: Who’s that guy in the picture with you?
Ananya looked back at the picture in question. It was her, Roma and her two work colleagues. The girls had invited them too. They were all standing next to each other, hands casually around each others’ backs as they posed with big smiles. Jude must be referring to Arjun, she figured, as he was the one right next to her.
Ananya: He’s my colleague. Well, they both are. You had sent 5 passes so Roma and I asked them. Is that a problem?
She wondered if she had overstepped the invite somehow and bit her bottom lip as she nervously saw him type.
Jude: Is he with you?
Her brows furrowed in confusion.
Ananya: I mean, I just said all three of them came with me.
Jude huffed in frustration, staring at the photo again. He could tell it was meant to be a casual photo but the guy’s hand was too comfortable on her back and too close to her waist. Something about him immediately irked Jude. He just hated his guts.
Jude: But he’s not WITH you right?
It was her turn to get annoyed now.
Ananya: Jude, seriously? Right now?
She jumped when the phone rang. It was him ofcourse. Roma looked at her curiously and Ananya rushed back into the lounge to escape from prying eyes. She found a quieter corner and answered the phone.
‘Before you say anything, I have 30 seconds after which I have to rush into the tunnel. You have every right to be mad but can you pls answer my question now and I will make up for this behaviour later? I don’t wanna go to the field like this.’
The mix of earnestness and child-like hope in his tone somehow assuaged her annoyance.
‘Please?’
She sighed audibly on the line and he looked at his teammates who had already started exiting the dressing room.
‘No, he’s not WITH me like that.’
She could practically hear him smile at the other end.
‘Thank you. I knew it but just needed to hear from you. And like I said, I will make up for this. Gonna score for you, dove. And later tonight, gonna apologise when I see you.’
His teammates were calling him in the background now, everyone was in the tunnel. He got the last sentence in before he absolutely had to hang up.
‘After the match, meet me in Pavillion 2 Parking lot, Pillar 4. It’s only for the players, no media or fans would be there. It’s a private exit from the back so no one would see us together. Then we can have a quiet dinner. Come down when I ping you. Yes?’
Another long, audible sigh at the other end.
‘Ok.’
She could again hear the darned smile.
‘Won’t wish me luck?’
‘Good luck, Jude. Now go, please. The anthem has started playing.’
‘Keep your eyes on me. See you soon. Bye.’
With that, he hung up and rushed to join his team, and got some looks which he totally deserved. But that was a small price to pay.
Ananya ran back to the box, not wanting to miss the anthem. She was a fan, first and foremost, and this was a big match. Hala Madrid Y Nada Mas blared at full volume. The girls stood up and sang along, waving to the beautiful melody.
Just then, the team stepped out. Serious game faces on. Her eyes scanned the whole team, marvelling at seeing them all only for the second time. Finally, her eyes landed on Jude, who was standing at the end of the line. And Roma elbowed her in the ribs just then because guess what? He was looking up at the box.
When he spotted her, he gave a slight nod in her direction which only the two girls could decipher. But very quickly, the game face was back on. She could tell how focused he was for tonight.
It was a tough match, heavily competitive, like any Classico. Barca were marking Jude really well, given he had been the most destructive force of Madrid in the first few months. He was getting frustrated but kept at it.
The group soaked in the riveting atmosphere. And the girls fangirled over many notable people in the VIP box. Nadal was quite an animated viewer in person which they were amused to see.
But mostly, they sang along for every chant, every song that was reverberating in the stadium. And the view was just perfect, not like when she had watched from the stands last year.
She did find her eyes going to Jude many times. Gosh, he looked fit. And played marvellously. He really was a vision tonight.
And just like that, first half was over. The atmosphere was tense as Madrid was down 1-0. The coaching staff rallied the players back to the dressing room, to regroup and strategise for second half. They were definitely going to get an earful for the set piece defending. She couldn’t look away from Jude as he walked off - he looked disappointed, angry yet still determined. He walked with intent, already talking to the coaching staff on the way.
The crowd started discussing different nuances of the first half as the highlights played on the 360* screens.
She pulled out her phone and sent him a quick message.
Ananya: There is full second half to go. As they say, 90 mins at the Bernabeu is a long time.
There was a blue tick but no response. She figured he would be busy, as he should be at this time.
The second half began soon after. Both teams went at each other but Madrid was playing with more aggression now. More pressing, more tackles, more forward movement.
And 20 mins later, out of nowhere, from way outside the penalty box, Jude scored a long range screamer.
The crowd went berserk, as did the boxes. Nadal nearly stood on his chair and waved his coat. The girls hugged each other and screamed their lungs out. The whole squad and the coaching staff ran on the field and ambushed Jude.
Once they dispersed, he raised his arms to the fans, pulling out his trademark celebration. And the fans sang ‘Hey Jude’ with love.
As he was walking away, he did sneak in one look towards his box. Nothing too obvious for the cameras to catch, but she saw the slight nod again. He knew she could see him on the 360* cameras and would know it was meant for her.
Roma saw it too. And dug her nails into Ananya’s arm.
‘Girl, is this real or am I in a trance? Did he really just do that?’
‘Honestly, I am asking myself the same question.’
As it turns out, he wasn’t done scoring for the night. In the penultimate minutes, the man scored a winner from close range.
The noise in the stadium was deafening. Some fans pulled their shirts off while others cried with joy. The two girls jumped from their seats and kept jumping for a good minute.
The celebration from the team was worthy of a Classico winner. Jude and Vazquez did some mental dance and then Rudiger tackled them all to the ground. Later, Valverde jumped on Jude who caught & held him with just one arm.
‘Pretty boy is strong too, huh?’
Roma whispered in Ananya’s ear, making her flustered. She nearly wanted to retort saying if Roma was just realising that and not during the match when he outmuscled all midfielders in duels.
Before she could say anything though, he did that sign with both hands, looking towards his thighs. The crowd roared back at him.
Ananya found herself paralysed in her seat as Roma elbowed her violently.
‘Maybe he’s giving you a message’
Ananya buried her head in her hands as Roma continued to tease her endlessly. Even with her fluster, she couldn’t help notice how the arrogant confidence suited him perfectly on the pitch.
Soon after, the final whistle came and the fans roared again along with the anthem. The team took a lap around the stadium, thanking the fans for their support. As they were walking off, Jude looked up at the box and his gaze lingered for a few seconds.
He looked away just at the right time, before the cameras caught his gaze. Ananya sighed inwardly - she had been worried about this all evening but thankfully it didn’t look like anyone had caught a whiff.
The rest of the group went to the lounge to grab a bite before leaving. She stayed back in the box and took in the atmosphere some more.
When Jude managed to check his phone 10 mins later, it was buzzing with messages. He checked the ones in his family group first and pinged them that he would call soon. Their happiness and support was the biggest reason why he did what he did.
Then, he looked for another name, and giggled with joy to see an unread message.
Ananya: Congrats. That was a special performance. You guys made the fans very happy, especially you. Savour the accolades, you deserve them.
He smiled from ear to ear, re-reading the message a few times.
Ananya was in the washroom when her phone buzzed again.
Jude: Did I make YOU happy?
Ananya: Very much so :)
Jude: Am I forgiven for earlier, then?
Ananya: Mostly, but not fully.
Jude: Ooh tough crowd :)
He sneaked into the shower to quickly call her from there, as the dressing room had erupted with champagne and food fights and all kind of hip hop jazz performances.
She picked up instantly.
‘Hey.’
‘Hey, sorry for the background. The lads are losing it. I am gonna need 20 mins more to take a quick shower and meet you downstairs but given the mood outside, might become 30. But I definitely will make it down in 30. Would that be ok?’
‘Yes ofcourse. And hey, don’t cut down the celebrations. These are the moments to cherish. In fact, if you just wanna hang with the team..’
He didn’t let her finish.
‘Are you mad? I have earned, EARNED this dinner with my blood, sweat and tears. No way I am giving that up. Nu-uh.’
She giggled at his theatrics and he giggled back at her.
‘Ok. Gotta go now. The sooner I wrap up here the sooner I see you. Sending you the car number. Will ping you 5 mins in advance. The parking lot is a bit secluded but it’s meant to be that way. It’s perfectly safe so don’t worry when you walk down there. I will anyway pick you up in 30 seconds of you being there. Ok? See you soon.’
‘Cool, see you.’
‘Bye, dove.’
‘Bye, Jude.’
He hung up and rejoined the mad dances that Vini and Cama were leading, still keeping track of time.
While Ananya grabbed on to the washroom counter, looked into the mirror and stared at her own reflection.
It was really happening. In 30 mins, she was going to get into his car, go to his house, and have dinner with him alone for a few hours.
…………………………….
There you go, this was the second chapter. Tons more to come in this story, feedback / comments are very welcome. Would love to hear your thoughts 😊
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XVI. Prisoner Heist
Author: @firelordsfirelady
Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 
Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader
Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal
Word Count: 2054
Destined to be Yin and Yang 
I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story. 
Author’s Notes
The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 
Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.
See Y/N’s inspiration here. 
Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)
With the light of the moon guiding me through the shadows of the city, I snuck my way outside of the palace’s walls where a lonely guard stood on alert. Knocking her out with a rear naked chokehold, I drug the body into a nearby shed before I stripped her of her Earthbender armor and tied her to a wooden post in the room. Putting on the uniform, I quietly made my way back to the unconscious guard’s post before walking towards the front gates. I gave a nod to the guards as I walked past them and into the palace.
Once inside, I walked around while trying my best to look like I was in that location with intention before I arrived downstairs at the holding cells. Another Earthbender guard was talking to an older Earthbender guard as I arrived, but I stuck to the shadows as I listened to their conversation.
“Sir, I was assigned prisoner transfer duty,” Zuko’s innocent voice floated through the air around me and my eyes widened as I realized he had also come up with the same idea to rescue his uncle. “But I’m…late. If my commander finds out--” Zuko’s words were spoken with uncertainty. “I’m already in enough trouble this month….” A small moment of silence passed between the two before the Earthguard spoke.
“The Firebender was taken to the Pit; the other prisoner is still here.” My eyebrows furrowed at the mention of a second prisoner. 
“The other prisoner?” Zuko asked the same question I thought in my head.
“Yeah. The bald kid. He’s with the King right now.” I frowned as I realized the predicament Zuko must’ve felt at this moment, but I hoped he was smart enough to know that he had better luck rescuing his uncle than taking on the whole earth kingdom with no help other than a Waterbender.
“Thank you sir. I will make haste to catch up.”
“Don’t forget that the path through the forest is the fastest route. Take the shortcut through the tunnels ahead to try and catch up.” The Earthbender guard bowed as Zuko did and then left down another hallway. Once the guard was out of sight, I quietly stepped out of the shadows and down the stairs. Zuko turned to look at me, but I knew the dimly lit hallway hid the details of my face just as well as it hid Zuko’s.
“At ease, soldier.” Putting my hands up in mock surrender, I softly spoke the words. The tension in Zuko’s shoulders slightly eased as he realized when I stepped closer that I was a friend. “Come on, we’re late enough for the prisoner transfer as it is.” Zuko nodded as we walked through the tunnel like the Earthbender had said and arrived to a small trail in the woods around the palace.
Once we were a safe enough distance away, Zuko and I tossed the helmets away and started running along the road in hopes to catch up to the convoy. After a few hours, I had to slow down to a stop as Zuko and I reached a split in the road. I was breathing heavily as my lungs tried to compensate for the intense amount of running we had just done, but I was suddenly thankful for all the days I would drive the crew crazy running laps around the deck. Resting my hands on my knees, I watched Zuko walk over to the path on the right and lean down to pick something off of the ground. I straightened up as Zuko did, but I couldn’t see whatever he had picked up.
“This way.” Zuko called back to me over his shoulder before he started off down the right path, and I was not too far behind him. As Zuko and I jogged along the path, I watched the thin sticks of the trees in the forest around us slowly disappear as an early morning fog crept in and permeated the forest. We came to a small clearing where we could see the imprints of wagon wheels in the moisten road of the path.
“They were here recently.” I said as I leaned down and touched the slightly damp spot on the ground. “We are close, Zuko.” I stood up and wiped my hands on my earthbender outfit then looked ahead of us. “We may be able to cut them off if we travel on either side of the trail.” I stripped off the heavy gear that weighed me down, and I let out a relieved sigh as I didn’t realize just how heavy that piece was for me. Looking back to the Firebender, I found him staring at me, and I felt my heart somersault in my chest before I moved to the right side of the trail. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
We heard the convoy before we saw them, and I briefly looked at Zuko as he jumped to set a tree on fire in front of the large bird an Earthbender leading the convoy was riding. Both of the large birds threw their rider off as the tree crashed down to block the convoy’s route before snapping at the humans and running away from them. Throwing a ball to block the back side of the cart in, Zuko jumped and landed in front of the convoy. I followed his lead as I used the back ledge of the cart to jump and kick the guard in the back. I formed a small block of ice at the bottom of my foot as it connected with his cheek, sending him flying back with an audible thud on the side of the road. Landing of my left foot, I spun on my heel and roundhouse kicked one of the guards that tried to run towards me. I shifted to attack the guard again when a blast of fire from behind the Earthbender made the man drop to the ground in front of me.
Looking over, I watched as Zuko approached Iroh’s outstretched hands and used a downward kick of fire to bust the metal chains binding the older Firebender’s wrists. I tried not to think about the heat rushing to my cheeks as I turned my attention to the Earthbenders as they helped on of the men up. I walked forward as Zuko sent a fireblast their way as he leapt over the wagon and flipped to the ground beside me. Iroh joined Zuko’s other side as the three of us looked at the three Earthbenders.
Two of the earth benders pulled two large chunks of rock from the earth and sent them in our direction. Zuko pulled me back as Iroh used one of the chains that had been wrapped around him as a heated whip to break both of the chunks apart. Letting go of me, Zuko used one hand to flip in front of Iroh as he released a spin kick full of fire and knocking down the two Earthbenders. I gathered the water molecules from the fog around us and encased the remaining Earthbender’s upperbody in a case of ice to prevent him from bending the rock from the earth as Iroh flung his chain like a whip. The chain wrapped around the Earthbender’s leg and sent the Earthbender falling to the ground as Iroh pulled the chain quickly. My ice shattered as the guard fell to the ground. Iroh walked towards the Earthbender with a serious look on his face. As the Earthbender scrambled to crawl backwards from the older Firebender, Iroh gathered his chains into his right hand as he stood above the guard.
“Do it.” The guard said through clenched teeth as he accepted his fate. The forest around us fell silent as I held my breath to see what the older Firebender would do. He took some deep breaths as he looked at the younger man on the ground.
“We’ve all seen enough death.” Iroh turned away from the guard and walked towards Zuko and I. Zuko turned to follow Iroh. As I turned to do the same, I saw the guard quickly get up and let out an angry grunt. Without blinking I felt a sharp sting as a large sharp rock pierced my shoulder and let out a sharp cry as I sent ice daggers at the Earthbender. Closing my eyes and gripping the protrusion of the rock implanted in my shoulder, I focused on keeping my breathing even as I pulled the rock out. Biting back a scream of pain, I toss the rock to the ground before placing a hand against the bleeding wound as I faced the two Firebenders.
“We need to go.” Iroh said as he looked around us. “There will be more of them coming.”
“But Y/N--” I waved a dismissive hand at Zuko’s concerned words as I walked between the two of them.
“We need to go, Prince Zuko.” I said while applying slight pressure to my wound. My heart squeezed within my ribcage, and I couldn’t look at the man whose voice held concern for me as I led the walk towards the boat.
Once the sun had almost set behind the horizon, the three of us arrived at the boat we used to get to the shore. Climbing into the boat, I bit my tongue to control the yelp as my wound reopened from the motion. After Iroh and Zuko settled into the boat, I used my waterbending to coax the boat into the water.
“It seems like we are always getting on or off boats.” Iroh lightheartedly said as Zuko rowed away from the coast. I let out a small chuckle at the older man’s words, but the motion of laughter caused a slight grimace on my face. Silence filled the boat briefly as Zuko stopped paddling as he looked up at the sky above us. Looking above us, I could barely make out the dark silhouette of a large flying creature in the darkened sky.
“What is it, Zuko?” Iroh asked as the figure disappeared behind the treeline.
“It’s nothing.” The younger Firebender said without turning back to look at Iroh as he slowly started to paddle again.
“Are you alright?” Iroh asked as he shifted his attention to me. The older Firebender’s face showed his sorrow for my injury. I shrugged, but put most of the effort into the side that wasn’t hurt. Shifting slightly to lean over the side, I rinsed my hands in the water as Zuko slowly padded. Once my hands were clean, I sat up as I maneuvered the water to create a small wave to propel the small canoe along back to the ship. Zuko turned to look at me as he opened his mouth to say something, but he closed his mouth at the shake of my head as I avoided eye contact with him. “It’s faster than you paddling.”
“You’re bleeding again.” Zuko’s soft words caused me to look down at the white undershirt of the Earthbender armor that was red with fresh blood from the small wound in my shoulder.
You’re just a distraction. Zuko’s words echoed in my mind as I sped up the boat a bit and avoided any further eye contact with the eyes staring at me with concern. 
“It’s a mere flesh wound.” Iroh bit back a bark of laughter that helped to offset the rapid pounding within my chest.
Once we arrived back to the ship, I bit the side of my cheek as I climbed the rope ladder first to get back on the boat. Lieutenant Jee helped me up, but accidentally grabbed a tender area of my injured shoulder and I couldn’t hold back the cry of pain. I was quickly released as I held a gentle hand to my shoulder.
“I’m sorry--” I dismissed the Lieutenant’s apology with a wave of my hand.
“It’s okay Lieutenant Jee.” I heard Zuko’s angry steps as I saw the Lieutenant’s face pale at the man approaching. “Calm down, Prince Zuko.” My calm words made him stop behind me. “He couldn’t have known. Show him a bit of mercy, please.”
“I am tired.” I announced without turning around to look at the man with the heated stare, then I left to go to my room.
Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @junieshohoho @0kauy @coolgirl458 @hypnoticbeing @angelruinz @preeyansha @playboygeniusphilanthropist @ssonniiu  @chi-ara @hagridshaircare @stell404 @kyo-kyo1 @herondale-lightworm @simonsbluee @nadlx33333 @nerdisthenewcool @jewelsrules @soggycrout0n @mymomsdisappointment
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psychesalcove · 16 hours
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WHEN YOURE ALL ALONE, ILL REACH FOR YOU (when you're fellin' low, i'll be there too)
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college au! jason grace x gn! reader
yes, from amandamariee
⚠️: reader is a bit of an overachiever, crying, being overwhelmed bc of school work, shitty ass writing (sorry gang) not proofread AT ALL
in which ; jason comforts reader who is overwhelmed by school work due to finals.
a/n: thank you so much for the request babes!! i hope this lives up to your expectations,, i loveee fluff and comfort fics so so much like it's actually scary 😔 ALSO i made the reader have a history major – just in case anyone was wondering :)
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finals season was upon the students of new rome. cafes were filled to the brim with students, workbooks, and the sound of typing on laptops (that were specially made for demigods, of course).
you were one of the studnets who found themselves at the cafe more often than you would like to admit. earlier today you were at a popular cafe downtown with annabeth, but, around two hours into your study session, you wanted a change of scenery.
and that's how you found yourself back at the condo you and jason shared.
your wooden desk that you had gotten at ARC had every surface possible filled with studying items. old assignments, papers your professor handed out, your notes, and every color of highlighter imaginable.
your tea (which jason had made for you) was long forgotten on the edge of the desk, close to tipping over onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. you had been in the same posion on your chair for about an hour and a half, eyes focused on reading an essay you had wrote a couple months ago.
jason would have already had you take a break by now, but he was downtown. you and jason were supposed to meet with the seven for dinner tonight, but you decided to stay home and study more. jason had insisted on staying with you, but with much persistence on your end, he was out the door and on his way downtown.
and of course, when you're studying for the most important test of this year, your dyslexia decided to act up. you had been stuck on the same sentence for about 5 minutes now. the words kept getting jumbled in your mind, floating from place to place on the page. the monster attacks you could deal with; but not being able to read a simple sentence?
you sighed heavily through your nose, setting down your pen onto the desk. this essay should be easy to read; you were the one who wrote it after all. your eyes shifted from the essay to the rest of your desk. you had no idea how you were going to manage getting all of the information you needed for the test in your head.
you reached for your laptop that was under a folder, because you decided that it might be easier to do work digital instead of on paper. you quickly logged into your laptop, and went to google classroom.
your eyes were drawn to the notification icon, seeing that there was one. you clicked it, mouse hovering over the writing that appeared on the screen: a comment from your professor.
y/n, i've seen you do amazing work in my class this year. what happened with this? i know you have more potential than what you wrote. i'll have to give you a D for this one, but it shouldn't affect your grade to much considering you have an A. it'll bring it down to an A- or a B at the most. i'll hope you gain your skill back in further work.
oh.
you quickly changed the screen onto where your grades were shown. there it was. a B. you knew that it wasn't a bad grade or anything, especially remembering when percy showed his grades to you once, but it still didn't sit right with you.
this was your best class, the one you always understood and got at least an 80 or higher on. you've never gotten a D.
tears quickly filled up your eyes, causing you to bink rapidly in an attempt to keep them at bay. you looked at the desk, in hopes of feeling better by now staring at the large B on your screen, but it only made it worse. all the papers and assignments quickly overwhelmed you, seeing how much you still had to do.
how will you even pass this test if you can't write a simple article about an artifact?
with that thought in your head, tears quickly started dripping down your face. a rational part of you told you that a small assignment like that didn't show your worth of the class, but the emotional part of you quickly overtook that thought.
as you sat there, posture rigid and tears freely falling down your face, you were to focused on your own being to register the sound of a door opening and footsteps going down the hall twords the bedroom you were in. you only got out of your head when you felt cold hands rubbing up and down your upper back.
"hey, love, what's wrong?" a voice, that you quickly recognized as jason's, said. you didn't know how to verbally respond, so you coughed hard and brought a hand up to your face to try to remove the tear stains from your face.
jasons hands moved from your back to go over your shoulders, hugging you from behind. "how about we get you into a bed first, hm?" he questioned gently, leaning awkwardly so his face was closer to your ear. after registering what he said, you nodded slightly as you made a move to stand up.
jason aided in getting you up, and then put a hand over your shoulder when the two of you started the short walk to the bed. he let you sit first, and then quickly followed in suit. he sat in front of you, letting you get a clear image of his blonde hair and concerned face.
he grabbed your hands and held onto them lightly, giving you the option to leave his grasp at any point. "love, try to copy my breathing, okay?" he instructed, making eye contact with you. he slowly took a deep breath in through his mouth, waiting for you to follow. once he saw the movement , he slowly exhaled through his nose, again, waiting for to follow his breathing pattern.
this continued until jason deemed you collected enough to talk about whatever made you upset. "want to tell me what got you so worked up, my love?" he asked again, softly smiling at you when you two made eye contact.
you quickly explained your situation in a shaken voice, still getting own crying. his eyebrows knitted in concern as he listen to you, and his thumb started slowly rubbing circles on your knuckles when he noticed your teary eyes.
once you finished speaking, he took you into his arms and held you gently. "how about you take a break. i'll make you tea, and you can eat if you want. then, we'll come back, and i'll help you with whatever you need help with. sound good?" he explained, already making a move to stand up with you.
the two of you quickly found yourself in the kitchen. jason had dimed the lights to emit a soft orange glow from above, and turned on the stove light as he filled the kettle up with water.
"you know, you're amazing at what you do, love." jason said, turning to you as he turned off the sink water after the kettle was filled up. "and, i know that you also know that, somewhere in there," he continued, brining up a finger and pointing at his head. you chucked softly, making jason get a small grin on his face from making you laugh, even if it was only little.
he walked over to the stove and placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the stove top, then moving over to where you sat on the counter. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you into a gentle embrace. "yknow you could have asked for my help earlier, i would have stayed with you, my love." he said as he rested his head on your shoulder.
"i know, but i wanted you to go out. i didn't want to keep up cooped up in here with me just because i didn't want to have dinner with them." you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, bringing you closer to him.
"i never feel 'cooped up' with you, love. and i wouldn't have minded not going, although leo and piper seemd very pressed about you not being there tonight. said they wanted to meet up with you tomorrow to 'add to their gossip'." he said, chuckling lightly at the thought of leo and piper.
you smiled softly as you thought about your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. just then, your stomach growled, notifying both you and jason that you were starving.
"how about we make you some toast? then we can go back and start on some flashcards for you, sound good?" jason asked, pulling away from the embrace and walking over to the pantry, signaling with his hands for you to follow.
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a-stupidbisexual · 2 days
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Teenage Dirtbag babyy !! - F2/3/F1 academy grid
my first smau - please be kind I’m new with the tools
Y/N x Paul Aron - Ollie Bearman x Andrea Kimi Antonelli - Abbi Pulling x Doriane Pin
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Later - 3 am
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Yourusername
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Yourusername I’m just a teenage dirtbag babyyy
tagged : paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, racerbia and 6 others
User1 young drivers on social media are a blessing
User2 WAIT IS THAT OLLIE AND KIMI ?!!
            User3 AND DORIANNE AND ABBI ?!!
maxverstappen1 stop posting on social media and answer our calls
User4 oh to be a part of that friend group …
Racerbia
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Racerbia never let Y/N plan the hangout
tagged : yourusername, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli, paularon_ and 6 others
Yourusername hey !!! It was amazing !
User6 AFTER BEARNELLI AND PINING WE GOT PAULY/N ?!!!
Arvid.lindblad actually the best hangout of my life
            Yourusername finally who someone likes my hangout plan
            Landonorris wait until tomorrow morning
The next day
Sunlight was already picking through the curtains when Y/N woke up. Her head was hurting, like someone was hitting it from inside. She tried to get herself up, but some weight was keeping her pinned against the mattress. She turned her head and saw a blond head she knew too well. Sure, her and Paul were big on physical touch but sleeping like this never happened. She carefully shifted to see the room without letting go of Paul’s embrace.
Y/N observed the room and the people in it. She could recognize Kimi and Ollie on the couch opposed to her, the older spooning the other. She had a moment of confusion, but she knew Kimi and Ollie had always been big on PDA even as friends. She kept looking around, checking if all her friends did make it back to the apartment. Arvid, Dino, Maya and Bianca were all sleeping on the floor with some blanket resting on them. And on the armchair, you could find Abbi and Dorianne literally glued to each other, managing to fit in the tight chair. Y/N tried to get up to go eat something but all the moving and shifting in Paul’s arm woke him up.
“Hi princess!” he said with the sleepiest voice ever.
“Hi baby!” she responded, hugging him tighter.
Then she got up, after spending a few minutes convincing Paul to let her go. Y/N walked to the kitchen, open the door and faced Charles, Max, Oscar and Lewis. She brutally closed the door before reopening it. “Good morning, everybody!”
“Good afternoon actually!” Charles pointing the clock on the wall. He was right, it was indeed way past noon. 3pm actually.
“So, what’s the reason for the visit?” said Y/N trying to act cool in front of her 4 grid-dad.
“Humm…You don’t remember last night, do you?” Oscar asked.
“Euuh no …?” She responded.
“Well, we have a little explanation to do when everyone wakes up” Oscar sighed.
Max stood up and entered the living room to shout, “EVERYONE WAKES UP NOW!” The mass of teen made a groaning sound, some of them complaining about their head. There was also some confusion like Abbi and Dorianne who were looking at each other, not understanding the how and why they were like this. Same for Kimi and Ollie. After a couple minutes, the other older driver entered the room and told everyone to sit and listen to them.
“You kids are fucking mental; you should definitely know that! Before we start scolding each of you, do you actually remember what happened yesterday?” Charles was endorsing his role as the principal grid-dad of those kids.
“I remember that we met up here, we drank maybe one or two beers then we went to the bar.” said Kimi, rubbing his eyes.
“Yes, and Y/N picked up a worksite cone and put it on her head.” Gaby completed.
“I remember something about Ollie and Kimi, and Abbi and Dorianne, like they kissed or something like that” Arvid said earning some weird looks from the four.
Bianca finished their story and added “I remember Y/N got stuck on a tree, we called Oscar to help but Paul got her back before he arrived.”
“Well we have a base to work on” Max said pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It’s actually not that bad, I thought they would black out like completely.” said Lewis.
“So kids, you all got wasted at the bar and started doing random shit, like sitting on rooftops, stealing shopping carts, scooters and you also did some private things, you should check your insta especially Bianca and Y/N” Charles resumed the whole night and let all the teens check on their insta and realized all the things they did while he decided with the others grid-dads to post something to try to peace the situation.
Charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 2 others
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Charles_leclerc why did we have to adopt that many teens?
Tagged yourusername, paularon_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 7 others
Olliebearman  we’re sorry dad 😖🥺
            Yourusername speak for yourself
User8 the dads regretting their choice 🤣😭
Paularon_ it hurts but it was amazing
User7 The Bearnelli and PaulY/N pic 🥹
Dinobeganovic_ never let me have alcohol ever again
            Maya_weug same
            Gabrieleminiofficial same
____
well that's it ! I'm kinda proud of this, i hope you're gonna love this as much as me ! byye :)
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dean-a-mean-tae · 2 days
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Industry Friends | Stray Kids Additional Member AU
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Some of Nicholas's friends in the Idol industry
WARNINGS: Mention of trauma dumping, lost idiots, chucking paper at people, unedited... idk. I think that's it.
Nicholas Ross Master List
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✧*̥˚Min Yoon-gi*̥˚✧
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A Warm Drink On a Cold Day
Honestly, it's hard not to notice the new Afro-Korean idol with all the gossip about him. When Yoongi found out about the way people treated Nicholas, he reached out. He apologized for they way some of ARMY treated him and told Nicholas to reach out if he ever needed anything.
Fast forward to Nicholas asking for his help on his album Damage. They spent time on the phone and even in person talking about lyrics and beats for the songs. It was mostly Nicholas ranting and Yoongi helping him find words to rhyme with, but he still helped. The older man told him not to mention him in the writing process. He believed people would take away the meaning and importance of Nicholas putting it out there.
Their friendship is one where they can go a long time without speaking to each other but when they meet up or reach out the conversations just keeps going. It's never awkward between the two. Sometimes Nicholas and Yoongi rant and give advice to each other, it's usually Nicholas ranting.
Bonus: Yoongi and Nicholas meet up in cafes and such to bounce ideas off each other. Literally. They write an idea on a sticky note and chuck across the table at each other.
✧*̥˚Kim Nam-joon*̥˚✧
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Sleep During a Storm
Namjoon knew of Nicholas because of the same reason as Yoongi. He was disappointed when he found out some of ARMY were against the younger boy being in a Kpop group. The older male introduced the two of them, and after a misunderstanding, they became close.
Sometimes Nicholas will call Namjoon to check if he's alive. The man doesn't answer the phone when he's in a productive mood and it leaves Nicholas on edge. Which is hilarious because Nicholas does the same thing and it scares the crap out of everyone.
These two are the types to get on a call with each other, and after catching up on everything, the call call goes silent. It's a comfortable silence, and they just sit there on the phone with each other doing their own things.
Bonus: Nicholas has affectionately named Namjoon Mr. Wizard and it has not gone away. In retaliation, Namjoon calls him Mr. Shackleford. It's the name of The Man In The Yellow Hat from Curious George. Nicholas regrets showing him his favorite childhood cartoon.
✧*̥˚Lee Si Yeon*̥˚✧
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A Compass Pointing Home
They met when they slammed into each other while running around during an event held for idols. They were both lost after Si Yeon went to the bathroom and Nicholas went to get something he left behind. They stuck together until Chan noticed on the big screen that Nicholas was stuck in the middle of the place with SI Yeon looking lost.
Their friendship is literally just them finding each other lost somewhere and helping them find their way back to where their supposed to be. It got to the point where Nicholas will call her when he's lost and she's like "I'm on tour. What do you see around you?" Neither of them think to get Nicholas to call Chan or one of the others.
Si Yeon usually finds Nicholas before he finds anyone he knows. It's not hard to see a 6'3 man with a brightly colored hairstyle. He's just slowly turning in a circle trying to find out where he is and she's just like "How does this keep happening to us?"
Bonus: When they go out together, one of them will hook a leash or something onto the other's belt loop. It's freaking hilarious for bystanders.
✧*̥˚𝘽𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙆*̥˚✧
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Tranquility After Chaos
Lisa and Jennie came across an edit of Nicholas interacting with SKZ while scrolling through TikTok. Rose later heard about the issues going on about fans thinking he shouldn't be apart of Stray Kids. Then Jisoo heard about him at a Kpop event. Rose, Jennie, and Lisa were like "That's Nick." And Jisoo was like "Who?" So they had to explain the Nicholas Lore to her.
They're a bit of a strange group. And a bunch of STAY and Blink thought Nick was dating one of the members. None of the members have done anything to go against the rumors and Nicholas acting all cuddly with them doesn't help. They kind of just help each other not cause chaos when at events.
Sometimes they don't speak to each other for like 3 months but then they one of them starts blowing up the group chat so they can catch Nicholas up on the drama and vice versa. Nicholas has and will continue to be used as a step ladder to the higher cabinets by the girls.
Bonus: Nick asked Lisa to help him create a fun song but Nicholas just kept trauma dumping into the song. So the girls laid him on a couch and had him rant to him like a old school therapist.
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Nicholas Ross Master List | ©️DEANAMEANTAE2024
Tags List: @bada-lee-ily @jinnie-ret @hwxnghyynjin @foxilsdenn @rensahazard @mynameisnotlaura @lucianidealz @ziipzeepzop-eez @michelle4eve @leezanetheofficial @spookzyclown
You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.
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opikiquu · 2 months
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.Aventurine. Aventurine. Boy wh y
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You want me to talk about Eleanor and Talbert from My fazbear frights re imagining?!
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kittlyns · 29 days
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I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day
#what made it worse was the client I spent most of my day with was a brand new client. and she booked super last minute#so I wasnt mentally prepared for doing a 5 hour color. and her natural hair was already pretty light so I had to foil foil foil. go back.#pull out first couple foils. foil foil foil. go back. pull out the next few.#over and over and over.#and her hair was so fucking long. and so fucking thick.#and after the first hour she wouldn't talk. like I like my silence so I don't fight it much#but every now and then I would try to engage with her. I'd say something and she would straight up ignore me. no acknowledgment.#which makes me feel anxious cuz it's like jesus... does she hate me?? did I piss her off somehow?#even when I finished her hair (it looked fucking amazing no lie. one of my best highlights yet.) she had next to no reaction to it#she was like 'it looks fine. I mean good. it's good.' completely deadpan#I laughed it off and was like yeah it's been a long day girl! but it looks amazinggg on you!!#no response. deep inhale. alright.#whatever tho.#when I did finally get off work I stopped @ bojangles cuz I was lightheaded and hadn't eaten since morning#and when I tell you I almost broke down into tears cuz there were so many people crowding the goddamn pickup area.#and so many bizarre conversations going on. genuinely felt like I was in some form of hell#like my feet hurt. my back hurts. I'm tired. I didn't get the validation I like to have over a 5 hour transformative color.#I'm hungry and there are two elderly women blocking the pickup counter. one is hard of hearing so she keeps yelling HUH???#and the other only speaks in soft baby whispers. that goes as well as you can imagine.#there's a man behind me grilling an employee abt whether or not he goes to church. he starts witnessing to him#and the employee says 'I've never thought about it like that before' no less than 4 times.#there's a child in front of me playing tiktoks @ full volume. and this is all happening simultaneously.#I really considered just leaving without my food but I knew I needed to eat and didnt have anything at home so I stuck it out#was it worth it? no. bojangles honestly sucks these days but what's a girl gonna do.#got home and tried to pass out but nope. tossed and turned all night.#put on hot n cold patches to try to soothe the pain a little. didn't work cuz one pain would be eased a bit and another pain would take over#blahhhhhh#and now. I get to do it all over again! yippeeeeeee!!!!!!!!
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dont-offend-the-bees · 3 months
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We need better fucking care infrastructure. I should not be trusted with anyone's care ever 💛
#thing is caring for myself? I'm not GREAT at it but i can scrape by#i know my limits i know how much or little i need to survive i know that i can usually more or less bounce back after a tough time#i think if my life fell out from under me i could probably scrape it back even if i wound up doing a lot of couch surfing in the meantime#i genuinely don't know how I'll survive if i have to be fucking sole carer for someone#dad's on his way back now and he's been prescribed antibiotics and hopefully that's that#but at least a couple of times a year there's some shit like this#an awful cough or an infection or a fucking insane choice to like do some diy on the outside of the house standing on the windowsill#he fucking nearly chokes on his food once or twice a week#maybe he's just one of those cockroach type motherfuckers who'll never die no matter how the universe steps on him#but I'm fucking PISSED that he's taking that for granted and won't even sit and fucking talk to me about what happens when his luck runs out#I've been looking after mum alone for what four hours today and I'm already so tired and frustrated i wanna die#i am. a deeply impatient and unsociable creature.#i can be infinitely patient with friends! those are my fave people i chose to have them in my life I'd wait like a fucking mountain for them#mum and i were.... already sort of At Odds before all this started.#i'm the kid she never 100% really wanted and who never really 100% wanted to be here#and now we're stuck together and one day possibly sooner than any of us want it will be. just the two of us.#and i just. i don't know what that looks like. i really don't.#anyway. mental breakdown over hopefullly.#with a bit of luck dad and i actually fucking TALK before the next one#idk man. i never really knew what i wanted to do with my life but i thought I'd have time to figure it out#but maybe I'm just. the unqualified burnout with covid memory damage and a whole ass other human to care for#the exact thing i set out to avoid when i decided never to have kids#anyway. enough oversharing.#thank you anyone who's read my spiralling tag rambles in solidarity i love you#mr. bees speaks
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