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presleyanswrites · 7 months

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i got you.

pairing(s): mcu peter parker x fem!reader

desc honestly such a short concept. reader is whimpering/crying about seeing peter getting hurt on the news but he shows up perfectly fine, maybe a few scratches and holds the reader on the floor, wiping her tears.

a/n currently craving comfort like this so i wrote this specifically for comfort. hope you enjoy loves.

creds to @cafekitsune & @valenschmidt for the beautiful decor

warnings grammar, fluff. lmk if i missed anything.

requests | open 💌 masterlist

You took off your shoes at the door, tossing the car keys on the table nearby.

you sighed and went into the kitchen to get yourself a snack before your boyfriend peter came back from whatever he had to do. you always got worried sick about him when he was out at night for so long.

you sit yourself on the couch as soft rain drips down the window, crunching your cheap popcorn and shuffling to find the remote hidden beneath the cushion under you. You turn on the TV to the news of new york, watching all of the dramatic scenes of crime or new updates.

and then, it clicks to spiderman. spidermans news. you shfited your postion to sit up more, you always loved watching your boyfriend get fantasized and loved by the people of your city. But..this time it was different.

The screen flashed images of peter seriously hurt. you felt your stomach drop to the floor as your eyes filled with flashing images of deep wounds and him knocked on the floor. he looked pale, deep purple bruises matched on his face.

your eyes filled with tears and your throat felt like it was burning flames. you hated that peter had to go through this, the one you loved was constantly in danger and it shattered your heart into pieces.

this was the worst you had ever seen him.

tears streamed down your face and into your ears as you go into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. you couldn't bare to even look at the screen any longer. you feel yourself sink against the door, adrenaline rushing through your entire head. my peter.

you choke on sobs as you felt something pierce inside of you. you held your phone close to your chest hoping he would call you back. you needed desperately to know he was safe, alive.

Peter was always working. always. till' he nearly kills himself. You knew he was equipped with powers to sustain himself, and you also knew he was peter. you knew he was always strong and he always got up, no matter how hard he got smashed into the ground, over and over.

you close your eyes and matching tears peirce your head as they fall into the floor, choking on your own throat, resting your head on your knees tucked into your chest against the door.

you feel the bathroom door open from behind you and you nearly scream.

"is everything okay? i heard whimpering was that-"

Peter looks down at you on the floor. He was in his suit, holding his mask in one hand. His expression changed immediately when he saw your red eyes. you looked like you had been crying for hours. he knelt down next to you.

"im so sorry- did i scare you? whats going on?" His eyes were filled of worry as he held you in a hug.

you sobbed into his chest. "What the hell peter i thought you we're dead!" You whimper as you cling to his suit.

"What? No! Of course not- Why- Why would I be dead-" he breathes out, wrapping his arms around you as he feels his suit begin to get wet with your tears.

"You didn't anwser you phone.." you try to catch your breath, pulling away from him with a sniffle, checking him for any sign of wounds.

"Im so sorry y/n, i-i got out late." he rubs your back as he rests his chin on your shoulder, you crying into his.

your voice breaks, "i-i saw the photos on the news- t-they looked so terrible a-and-" tears roll down your cheeks.

"oh" he wipes your face, holding it with his hands as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "The news shows stuff like that all of the time, they probably edited it or something, i'm okay, i promise! Mr. Stark just needed some back up, everything is fine now.."

"I got you." he leans his head against yours and turns his face slightly to press a kiss to your lips, you breathe in and pull away, he wipes your tears with his hand.

you're chest feels warm with the same feeling of home again. your heart starts to swell.

he reaches for your pinky layed beside you on the floor, as he intertwines his into yours.

"i pinky promise, okay?" he pulls you in a hug as he caresses his thumb against your hand, still holding your pinky.

you nod gently, and rest the side of your face on his shoulder, letting yourself relax again.

he gently rests his chin on the top of your head. "im not going to leave you." he nearly whispers.

you nod slightly. "okay."

He helps you off the floor and leads you back to the couch, handing you a glass of water, sitting next you. you feel him wrap his arm around you.

"are you okay?" he asks slowly as he looks at you.

"yeah of course." you breathe out shakily as you take a sip of your water.

sighing, you set the water beside you and snuggle up to peter.

"im sorry you had to see that." he looks down. "i promise it wasn't real."

you nod and he holds your hand.

"what do you wanna do?" he looks at you softly. "i could get you something, or we could go out to a park." He holds his breath, making a puff in his cheeks.

you shake your head. "i just want you right now."

He nods and presses another kiss into your forehead.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" You ask gently, looking up at him from his chest.

His lips curve down as he shakes his head. "No, not at all." He smiles gently.

"Okay." You press your lips together and wipe your face.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he leans against the side of yours, folding his fingers into your hand.

#mcu x reader #tom! peter imagine #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker × reader #mcu peter parker #peter parker headcanons #peter parker mcu #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter mcu x reader #mcu peter x reader #peter x reader

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allaboutthedongs · 2 years

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Weak knees and apologies | 18+

☆ Pairing: Doyoung x Female reader

☆ Genre: Angst, smut and some fluff if you squint.

☆ Word count: 1 K

☆ Warnings: Dom!Doyoung, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, kinda rough sex, angry sex, bitting, cursing.

☆ A/n: Don't forget to like and reblog if you like it, so it could reach more horny people.

“Just get the fuck out of my room, Doyoung!” You screamed, your face flushing a deep shade of red. Your heart was pounding and you felt sick to your stomach.

“I’m not leaving until this is sorted, Y/N.” His voice was frustratingly calm, which only enhanced your anger towards him.

“You can’t just kiss someone and expect me to forgive you. We’ve been together for 2 years and now you go and do this, for god’s sake!”

You could feel your eyes welling up as the anger shook through you.

“I know, but I already told you how things happened. She kissed me against my will! My only mistake was being too drunk and not reacting in time to push her away from me. It's not what it looks like, I swear!” He enunciated the last sentence as if you hadn’t understood him. His eyes bore into yours begging for forgiveness.

“I know exactly what I saw and it doesn't look like she's forcing you to do anything, Doyoung!" You said, tossing him your cell phone.

That afternoon, an unknown number had anonymously sent you a photograph of Doyoung kissing another girl at what seemed to be a party.

Doyoung took your cell phone from the floor and looked ashamedly at the photograph. Although his conscience was clear, he recognized that you were right to be so upset. The photo really made him look bad in your eyes, but it was obvious to him that the whole thing was staged to separate the two of you.

“I don’t know what else I can say to make you trust in me.” His voice was quiet now, as he furrowed his brow and dropped his eyes to the floor. A tense silence fell upon the room.

“Just… leave, I don't want to see you right now.” You pushed your hands firmly against his chest towards the door.

Suddenly you found yourself pressed up against him, his hands clawing madly up your back as his tongue forced its way into your mouth making you gasp. Your head was spinning and had no idea how you ended up there. You were still furious at him but couldn’t control yourself, you loved him so much and lust overflowed your body anytime you were with him.

You tugged hastily at his t-shirt and hauled it over his head, removing yours immediately after. He walked your body back to the bed and pushed you roughly onto it, straddling his knees on either side of your waist. Crashing his lips on yours, you purposely bit down hard on his bottom lip, causing him to suck in breath sharply.

“I’m still fucking mad at you.” You hissed, wrapping your legs around his waist and drawing his body into yours. He flicked his hot tongue along your jaw before planting wet kisses down your neck.

“I know,” He murmured into your skin. “but you know I’m yours and only yours.”

He continued making his way down, tugging eagerly at the waistband of your leggings. You exhaled deeply as he pulled them past your feet along with your panties, the cool air abruptly meeting the aching area between your legs. You tangled your fingers through his black hair as he began flicking his tongue fiercely across your clit and dug your fingers into his scalp as he briskly introduced two fingers inside you, catching you off guard.

“Doyoung...” You moaned his name, wrapping your legs around his neck when you felt his fingers hitting the sweet spot inside of you. His other hand slid up your body as he began massaging your breasts. “Now you’d better hurry up and fuck me, or you can forget about being forgiven.” You teased him, your anger slowly beginning to subside as you succumbed to his skillful touch.

He kissed his way back up your body until his face leveled with yours.

“Well, if that’s an order…” He smirked, unzipping his trousers frantically and kicking his boxers to the floor, he drove himself into you without any warning.

You couldn't help but scream, his urgent thrusts gave you no time to adjust yourself. You moaned uncontrollably as he fucked you relentlessly. Dragging your fingers down his back, you pulled his hot body into yours, bitting hard the soft skin of his shoulder.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned in pain as you continued nipping at his aching skin. You didn’t care, he deserved it. He deserved it for kissing someone else.

“Harder!” You begged, clinging desperately to his neck.

He obeyed your needs flinging your legs behind his shoulders, allowing him to thrust into you way deeper than before. You tightened your hands around his biceps as you felt yourself coming close to your high.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” He crushed your knees into your chest as he brought his sweaty body close to yours, whispering into your ear.

You moaned in response, digging your nails into his delicate skin as he pushed you over the edge. He continued fucking you as you rode your orgasm out. Powerful waves of intense pleasure surging through your body right to the tips of your curled toes.

Letting your legs fall on either side of him, he quickly pulled out. A mixture of profanities escaped his lips as he spilled all his hot cum across your stomach and breasts. He rolled to your side and onto his back, your chests rising and falling rapidly.

You cleaned yourself up, put on your panties, and crawled back to bed. Doyoung held out his arm for you to rest your head on as you snuggled into him.

“I'm really sorry. I swear I didn't kiss her back.” He spoke, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger. His voice was soft and sincere, and you knew that he really was.

“I know.” You sighed, softly tracing circles on his bare torso with the tips of your fingers.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his warm chest. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, and you both lay there exhausted in a comfortable silence until falling asleep.

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whumperfully · 2 years

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Can't Breathe

Masterlist

CW: drowning, manhandling, recorded torture, humiliation, creepy whumper

Also marks off my bthb:grabbed by the hair

"And since you decided to be a little rebel, he's going to be taking your place."

The man grabbed him by the hair again and, with one hand angling the phone camera at his face, dragged him to the other side of the bed.

Matt blanched when he saw the water-filled bucket getting closer. "No no no... please no!"

The scream didn't make it out as his head was pushed underwater.

For the first few seconds, Matt thought he could take it. Back during middle school swimming lessons, he always used to win the breath-holding competitions. Aside from the uncomfortable position and the hand ready to rip his hair out, it couldn't be that different, right? Right?

He held up well for a full minute- counting it in his head. Right as his chest began to tighten, he was pulled out, a sharp pain in his scalp.

Before his frantic breaths could fill up his lungs again, the hand twisted his hair, forcing his head down again into-

"Please-"

-into the water again.

I can take this. I can take this. I can take this. I can take this- His chest tightened again. His lungs begged for even the tiniest bit of relief. He couldn't take it anymore-

Once more, the hand pulled him out, letting him take not even a full breath before-

"No-"

-pushing him under again. He wanted to breathe. He wanted to breathe. He knew he couldn't underwater but he wanted to- he had to- Or he was sure he'd die. But he couldn't. It would only make it worse. It would only make it worse. It'd only make it-

He was pulled out of the water again, ready. He took the biggest breath he could- but maybe he wasn't ready. Drops of water entered his throat through his nose- the wrong way. He was about to cough but-

"Sto-"

-into the water he was forced to go again. His mouth opened involuntarily, trying to cough out anyway- but he somehow ended up with more water in his throat and shit it burned. His throat burned. His nose burned. He had had enough. He wanted out out out outoutoutoutoutoutout please-

He was pulled out of the water again and in a split second- shoved back down.

No no no no no please. His mind shouted. His insticts won against his fear and, grabbing the edge of the bucket, he began pushing against the grip in his hair with all his might. Anything anything to get some relief.

Yet the fingers in his hair only twisted and turned, the grip tightening further to shove him deeper underwater. His nose hit the bottom of the bucket, his shoulders and back ached with the awkward angle. Finally, his hands slipped out, making him fall in deeper.

He just wanted to breathe... breathe... breathe... just one breath... please...

He could practically feel his consciousness slipping out from his hands before finally finally he was pulled out.

He bagan to cough as his head hit the ground, the man throwing him to the side.

"Aww! Aren't you a little baby!" A distant voice cooed.

Matt covered his face with his arms, curling up into a ball and coughing up water he didn't even knew he inhaled.

"I want you to look at the camera, darling. Wouldn't you wanna beg your brother to help you out?" A boot nudged his arms.

"Please..." He buried himself deeper in. "I just wanna go home."

"Perfect!" The camera shut off. "You're so lovely, darling." The man crouched down beside him. "That should make a nice trailer for him."

As fingers locked in his hair again, Matt let out an involuntary scream- "NO! PLEASE!" -quickly coughing and breaking down into shaking mumbles. "Please please please no. Please-"

"Take your arms off your face, honey. I wanna see it."

As soon as Matt reluctantly slipped them off, he heard the sound of a photo being clicked. Through his blurry tearful eyes he saw a phone hovering above him, the man's mouth twisted into a sick grin.

"Ah! Perfect again." The man pocketed the phone, smiling to himself.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, more tears slipping down his cheeks.

"A- a- a- be careful now, boy." A thumb slid beneath his eyes. "You need to save some of those for later too."

Taglist: @whumpsday @rabbitdrabbles @whumpycries (lmk if u wanna be added or removed)

#whump writing #whump #cw drowning #cw manhandling #cw filmed torture #cw humiliation #cw creepy whumper #a bit short but took me way too long to write #not perfectly happy w the results but i think it turned out okay #cw recorded torture #MattandDom #mywriting

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caramelrxses · 8 months

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One rhythm – Chapter Three

You were the first to leave. After the celebration and pictures with the coaches, you were running out of the building like it was going to collapse. You didn't need to stay forever there, you didn't take photos with your coaches alone – because there wasn't a reason to do it. Because you didn't dance alone. Because you weren't strong enough.

"Hey, Y/N! Where are you going?! The pictures, why aren't you posing with me?–" Your best friend rushed after you. You had to stop; your hand stopped right above the handle. "What's gotten into you?!"

You turned back to face her. You were still as pale as a wall, and you were wheezing. A panic attack? Maybe, you couldn't understand your body's reactions to seeing him after four years. You felt a cold drop of sweat running down your spine.

"Hey, Y/N, wait." Nilou approached you swiftly. She wrapped her arms around your shaking body. She wanted to reassure you, but she didn't know why you needed comfort. Of course, she didn't know, you silly didn't tell her about him. About that damn ginger. "What's wrong?" She asked gently.

"I- I have to go. Loulou, please, tell them I feel sick. Please." You choked out, a single tear escaped your wide eyes. You knew you had to explain yourself later to your friends, especially Nilou. She will be offended that you kept this a secret.

"What, why? But Y/N the pictures, you have to be on them!" She argued softly, grabbing your free hand. You wiped the tear from your cold cheek. You shook your head, and your gaze drifted back to the hall's door, where your teammates were. You were scared that he might just appear, acting like he hadn't left you for four fucking years.

"Please, please, Loulou. I'll make it up to you, okay? Please." You muttered, closing your eyes tightly. You wished you'd wake up from this nightmare.

Nilou sighed. She let your hands go, as she glanced back to look at the opened door. "Go. But you'll have to answer all my questions." She nodded, with a strict look.

"Thank you, Gosh, thank you, Loulou." You thanked her and opened the door. As you finally escaped from her sight, you let your tears fall. The cold wind froze your tears onto your now-burning cheeks. You ran towards your dorm, not even looking back once.

You were scared he might just appear on the corner when you took it. But he wasn't there, those ginger locks stayed at the gym hall, being welcomed by old and new friends. You thought you needed a run. No, that wouldn't be enough. You could try, but your joints screamed at you at the mere thought of another lap around the campus.

You collapsed onto your bed. Your phone rang in your pocket, but you didn't have enough energy to pick it up. It was probably Nilou, Kaveh, or maybe Coach Faruzan. She'll be pissed off if she finds out you left the meeting behind.

You forced yourself to put on an oversized hoodie, a new pair of socks, your sweatpants, and your shoes. You left your hair like it was – in a cute braid. The run will ruin your hair, it doesn't matter if it's braided or in a ponytail.

You ran as fast as you could. As fast as your joints let you. Your ankles hurt like hell, but the pain just made you run further into the early darkness. You didn't know if it was your fourth or fifth lap when you saw your friends entering the campus. You wanted to turn around, but it was only a few meters until you reached your goal – the fifth kilometer around the campus.

Luckily, they didn't notice you. The group that had won this semester at the nationals, the 4ggravate, entered the dorms like you were just a gust of wind. But unfortunately for you, you caught somebody else's attention. The music hollering in your ears made you unaware that he approached you, and tapped at your shoulders.

You jumped with a frightened cry. Your lungs burned like the deepest spot in hell, and pain stabbed through your ankles, no matter how you tried to ignore it. You almost choked on the cold wind, as you found yourself looking into those damn deep blue eyes.

"Can't remember how to say your name."

"Aja-" you choked out, but you bit the end of the word. You tried to sound nonchalant, even if he was right in front of you, and you felt like you could collapse from exhaustion. "Childe." You nodded with a cold welcome.

"Let alone count all the freckles on your face"

"Good to see you again, Y/N." He smiled down at you, and you noticed a little scar on the corner of his plump lips. Goddammit, that one-sided smile made you want to throw up. Countless freckles covered his pointy, annoyingly bad-boy-alike nose. "Why did you run away? I mean, you literally just ran away." Childe tried to have a little chat, but you were too upset, tired of it. And you've had enough of this shitty day.

"A distant memory I used to know"

"Mind your own business, Childe. Especially after you ruined my semester." You muttered, turning around. You didn't have to hide your tears. The wind blew them away from your eyes. With a dry throat, you started to walk away from him, back to your dorm room. You wanted nothing but another hot shower, and a warm blanket to hide from the world. And maybe some painkillers to ease the pressure in your stinging joints.

"Woah, what's gotten into you, Y/N?!" Childe asked, trying to catch up to you. He tilted his head, seeking your eyes. You avoided eye contact, you were still busy trying to normalize your breathing. "Aren't you happy I'm back?"

You stopped in your tracks. He stepped forward, and he got in your way. Of course, how could you be happy that your friend is back? He abandoned you, long ago. You moved on, or so you thought. You didn't need him in your life. "Leave me alone, Childe. I'm not in the mood to talk to you."

Why were you so cold toward him? Did he really deserve your harsh words? Yes, you were sure he deserved them. He left you behind, how could you forgive him after four years? He not only left you, but now he has ruined your comeback into dancing. You wanted to dance alone, it was your life, the solo dance.

All the imagined pictures in your mind shattered like glass when he appeared. You, alone in the spotlights, in the middle of the stage, what is just yours. All of this broke into a million pieces. That could be the perfect comeback after a semester of doing nothing. But no, you were forced into a duo with him, who once crushed your dreams. Was it the second time?

"...Fine." Childe sighed after moments of freezing silence. "See you after the holidays. Merry Christmas, Y/N." His words became cold like the winter wind. He turned around, and just simply walked away. His thick white coat covered him from head to toe, and a long red scarf wrapped around his neck, hiding him completely. Those ginger-haired locks shone brightly in the street lamp's yellow light.

His clothing reminded you that you were practically shivering in your hoodie, which was wet with your cold sweat. You grimaced at his silhouette and entered the dorms.

.・。.・゜✫・.・✫・゜・。.

"Are you sure you'll drive home alone?" Nilou asked, two days later. Her suitcase and snacks were right next to yours, in the middle of the room. You packed every important item up, to take them home from the dorm room. It was a three-week holiday, so pretty much just the decorations stayed. Nilou wanted to take them too, but you talked her out of it.

"Yes, I'm sure. I need to clear my head, I'll listen to something on the way." You nodded. Your best friend smiled at you, hugging you tight. She had an emotional wave, she almost cried that you wouldn't see each other for three weeks straight.

Nilou became aware of your and Childe's relationship, and she just wanted to help you deal with your emotions. But if you didn't know what they were actually, she didn't either. You hugged her back with a forced smile on your face.

"You can call me every time you want, okay? We only have a one-hour time difference, I'll be up when you call." You smiled at her, and seeing her wide grin made your smile real.

"But Liyue is sooo far away! I mean, it's two states away from us. You should visit me sometime, the winter in Sumeru is much warmer. You could sleep in my bedroom, we could visit the boys too!" She tried to convince you. You shook your head, smiling, rejecting her offer.

"I'll make sure to visit Sumeru in the summertime, Loulou. Now, I have to wander around Liyue Harbor, meeting with friends and family. But we'll talk every day, I promise." You promised, offering her a pinky. She nodded with a grin, and then turned to the door.

.・。.・゜✫・.・✫・゜・。.

You were busy putting your heavy bags into the trunk of your car, when somebody called your name. "Y/N, are you sure you want to drive alone? We have a seat in the back." Coach Zhongli's words snapped you out of your inner screams about how big your suitcase was.

"I'm pretty sure, but thanks, coach. I'm sure I don't want to be stuck between the Adepti, but thank you again." You shook your head with a smile. Knowing that your friends in dance, Xiao, Yanfei and Ganyu, were a loud trio, you were sure you didn't want to travel home with them. The two girls would be arguing about what music to play, and Xiao would sleep with his headphones on, in the passenger seat.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually, Y/N." Coach Zhongli continued. Your previous and secretly favorite coach sighed worriedly, as he helped you with your heavy bags. He leaned against your car, after closing the backdoor. "About our decision."

Before you could even react, he continued. "Y/N, avoiding any contact with Childe doesn't solve anything. He told me about your confrontation two days ago. You can't just ignore him."

"Coach, you are the one who has to understand my view. You have to understand why I don't want to dance in a duo. Why do I not want to dance with him." You complained. You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head once again. "I'm a solo dancer. I don't want to dance with anyone, especially not him."

"You weren't a solo dancer under my wings, Y/N." He corrected you. "You two were my biggest stars, you know that. You were inseparable from one another."

"Well, the times change." You argued. You didn't want to hear his scolding. You didn't want to be reminded again about your old relationship with Childe.

"Y/N, I know what happened." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But you can act more friendly, you know. At least give it a try. You've been put together by choice, not by accident. Everybody knows you two were an incredible duo – act like it."

"Coach, please." You pleaded, lowering your head. You wanted the coaches to change their minds about you and Childe. They had to understand why you didn't want to be his duet partner. "You have to understand. I want to be alone. I want to dance solo."

Coach Zhongli sighed. His firm gaze pierced into you, his mind didn't change. He was not willing to change his mind, and his words confirmed this. "Y/N, get used to it. If you refuse to dance with him, Coach Faruzan will put you out of the competition team without a second thought. Remember that, Y/N. You dance with Childe or you don't dance."

His words left you speechless. Your jaw dropped to the floor, as you looked at the coach, like he had said the moon was habitable. Your thoughts were racing, you couldn't process his words for a second. "You can't be serious, coach." You choked out.

But he just shook his head. He was serious, deadly serious. How cruel, you thought. Putting you out of the competition broke your heart, even if it was just a suggestion. It was your life, you were fighting to keep your place on the team. Putting you out would be your end. You fought for this, you impressed the coaches a thousand times, they even showed favor when they put you on the team when you were just a freshman – and they never do that.

It hurt your ego like an arrow through your heart. You knew your dance life would end if you couldn't perform anymore. They've forced you to make a choice. A choice that you end your dance career, but you can avoid your past best friend's proximity, or a choice that you can finally dance alone again – well, almost. You could dance with your ex best friend, in a duet. You would have to share with him. With Chide. How cruel.

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sawtastic-sideblog · 6 months

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Part 5 I think.

Amanda: Gordon is sick. The DOCTOR is sick

Lawrence: it isn't unheard of.

John: do you need anything?

Lawrence: rest, fluids, Tylenol or anything to keep the fever down

Jill: I'll bring some by when I get off tonight

Lawrence: thank you Jill

Mark: it's oddly quiet. Where's Adam? Shouldn't he be screaming about how Gordon is dying or some shit?

Amanda: no clue. William?

William: I'm not even in town. How am I supposed to know?

Mark: idk aren't you like horse girlfriends are something

William: no

Logan: I saw him leave this morning around 8

John: it's 4:30. He's been gone 8 and a half hours without sending a message. I don’t like this.

Mark: last time that happened he was in Texas with Schenk

William: it was a fun few days. Horseback riding, watching Adam get scared by the lions roaring at the zoo.

Amanda: thank you for the videos of both incidents. They're hilarious to watch.

William: no problem.

William: he also accidentally propositions a trucker at Waffle House

Logan: I have questions

Jill: Lawrence was asleep when I came by. Someone tell him I put medicine in his cabinet.

Mark: he says thank you

Jill: no problem at all

William: guys it's been 12 hours with nothing from Adam.

Amanda: I hope he's okay

Mark: search party?

John: I'll stay with Lawrence. You all go out and give me updates.

Logan: he's not at the library

Mark: he doesn't read. Not at the arcade

Amanda: not at the diner

Mark: grocery store clear

Logan: bar clear

Amanda: lake clear

John: he's not answering his phone.

Amanda: ice cream shop clear

William: this is concerning

Logan: Mexican restaurant clear. Anybody want dinner?

Mark: I sent you the normal orders

Logan: I saw. Thank you.

Amanda: extra guac please

John: everyone come back. We can have dinner and then figure out what to do about Adam.

Logan: someone come help me with the food.

Jill: I called Adam's phone. An employee from Hot Topic at a mall 3 states over answered. They remember Adam. He dropped his phone and just kept going. They tried to find him. They said that if he doesn't come get it by closing tomorrow they can discuss sending it back with a manager.

John: thank you Jill

William: 3 states over? What the hell is he doing?

Mark: you're out of town. What the hell are you doing?

William: steak out with Zeke Banks

Amanda: I don't believe you.

*William Emmerson sent a photo*

Amanda: he looks bored

William: we are bored

Amanda: kiss him

William: that's unprofessional

Mark: you're a Jigsaw Killer apprentice. You kill your colleagues.

Mark: and you think kissing your coworker is unprofessional

Amanda: weak dude

Logan: don't listen to them. They're just jealous and horny

Mark: horny yes. Jealous no.

Amanda: horny yes. Jealous yes. Touch starved yes. Someone just hold me please.

John: 📯📯📯

Mark: I regret teaching you emojis

John: 😂😂🤣🤣

John: any word from Adam? 🚶‍♂️

Amanda: no

Lawrence: I'm worried about him. Should we file a missing persons report?

John: if he's not back by tomorrow morning ☀

William: I forgot my keys. Is anyone awake to let me in

Lawrence: I am

John: 24 hours nothing from Adam. I'm going to fill out a missing persons

Amanda: are you still sick Lawrence?

Lawrence: I feel much better thanks.

John: Adam just called. He's fine. He realized he lost his phone. Decided to stay at a hotel so he could go back to get it and got drunk and was hungover. He just got his phone back. He's driving back today. His phone is charging.

William: I'm glad he's okay

Lawrence: me too

Amanda: yay

Mark: oh joy he's back

Logan: I just talked to him. Work brought me out a little ways. So he's picking me up on his way in.

Adam: hey guys I live.

Mark: how disappointing

Adam: rude. I was out getting Christmas presents. I may have also spend waaaaaayyyy too much money at build a bear.

John: don't text and drive

Adam: stopped for lunch.

Adam: LAWRENCE IS DYING?!??!!?!?!?!?!?!??!!???

This series is fun and quick and easy to write. It doesn't take both of my brain cells as I suffer from writers block and brain rot. I'm enjoying writing this now crack fic. Hope yall enjoy it too.

#saw 2004 #saw franchise #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon #leigh whannell #amanda young #john kramer #mark hoffman #saw fanfic #tobin bell

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grimreapest · 1 year

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I used to like making art.

Or I must have, I'm pretty sure. I ended up in art school, after all. I was always the "art kid" in primary. I know now that it's a dangerous game, identifying your entire being with a single attribute. Because when you lose it, you feel like you're nothing anymore. You feel like you lost yourself.

The same happened to me with the "(academically) gited/smart kid" thing. I'm still destroying myself today just to keep up with that reputation. But at least I know it's a fairly common thing, it happens to people.

I'm a very introspective person. Most of my unsolved issues don't remain unsolved because I don't know they're there, I just don't know what to do about them. But losing art and being this distraught over it is something that I never saw coming.

I never heard people talking about it. There isn't any relatable content floating around the internet like there is for a billion of my other issues. My mental health must have deteriorated so quickly I lost the ability to make art before I could realise just how much it meant.

It was so long ago now. I don't remember enjoying art. All I know is I want to enjoy it. More than anything.

I see the world through an artist's eyes.

I was supposed to be an artist, I simply can't imagine otherwise. It's as if I was torn in half when I was created and an essential part of me is missing, a void that can never be filled. My mind is always full of ideas, begging to be turned into something more, something tangible...

But that's all they'll ever be. I'm like a person who wants nothing more than to be a singer but has the most terrible voice and a crippling fear of people's judgement.

I want to be an artist so bad. I see other people's beautiful art and my heart drops like it's flooding with lead, but shoots up to my throat to choke me regardless. I envy them. I want to yell at them for being luckier than me. I want to beat myself black and blue for not practising, for not forcing my way through the pain and clawing my way to where they get to be. I want to tear my lungs apart screaming about how unfair this is and how it isn't my fault, it's my brain, you couldn't do it either if you felt the same. And at the same time it's all my fault. I failed again. They deserve their success and I've done fuck all with my life. I'll never be what I so desperately crave.

And that's probably it I think, haha.

My one true pain. I'm worth nothing.

I know I've done good things. I know I've done impressive things. It doesn't matter. I need more external validation, but it also does little when I don't believe it, when I don't value myself. It just feels like a lie. A blatant, mocking, pitiful lie.

I want to be beautiful, but I'm just not. I want people too look at me and go wow, she's so pretty. I don't want to feel sick when I see myself in photos. But there's nothing I can do.

I want to be cool. I wish I had the energy and bravery and resources to try all the hobbies I think I might like. But I just don't. Nothing I can do.

I want to be an artist. I want to be hunched over my sketchbook when I wait for the bus, furiously drawing as if in a trance, instead of staring at my phone. When I find a new media obsession and fantasise about the characters day and night, I wish I could put them on a page to bring me joy when I'm down, to make them more real. I wish I could draw just for fun, maybe make little doodles for my friends to make them laugh, just because. I wish my first thought when I get inspired wasn't "there's no way I can do this justice". I wish I didn't feel physically in pain when I force myself to stare at my open sketchbook with pen in hand. I wish I didn't feel ashamed when I have to show people my art. I wish when my friend showed me her sketchbook, full of exactly the type of art I yearn to make, I could tell her it's beautiful without the sharp claws of envy splitting my ribcage in half.

But there is nothing I can do

I need this

And I can't have it

And it hurts so much

And no one else seems to quite feel the same.

Worse yet, it is well known many people find relief in art. They compensate for the pain, they express it, use it, channel it, find refuge from it. Sometimes their mental state inspires great artworks.

But I can never have that. I got shoved to the ground in a cold dark alley and robbed blind, robbed of any help, any outlet. It took my meaning. It took my craft. And left me to bleed out, knowing no help would ever come.

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yyukhei · 2 years

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Not saying it's true or isn't but for the Johnny thing, don't a lot of people feed those they're close to? I've seen a lot of idols share food with staff and I don't see what the big deal is. fttm0 is really asking for a slap, I don't even wanna be nice because someone like her does not deserve any kindness. Especially the amount of torment she's put YY and LC through. I don't know if this is from fttm0 or another ssng, but there was a photo of Taeil allegedly smoking but they put a huge emoji to cover something up and you can't really see Taeil fully or what he's actually holding. A lot of people think he's holding his phone and put it on speaker. That already makes that pic look suspicious and screams manipulation. The problem is that this photo was taken and edited to make it look incriminating(?)–not the word I'm looking for but the only one I can think of. I really can't fathom how former ssngs confess how they were normal before and grew obsessed. Like no, honestly I don't believe that. If that were true, then almost all fans would be this obsessed. These people have been bored since the beginning have since found an outlet to dim their boredom in fandom. They need fucking therapy and/or a nice orange jumpsuit. I'm sick and tired of these self proclaimed fans who are notorious for lying to defame their "faves". Ssngs are not fans. Not at all. They are parasites because once they get bored of that idol, they will move onto another to torment because they are simply bored. I fucking hate these people.

I agree 100% with everything you said. I just wish with everything in my soul that ppl would stop supporting these sasang, bc let’s be honest, if their stalking photos didn’t get thousands of likes and ppl didn’t eat up all the private info they drop (flight schedules, hotel bookings, etc) they would just get bored and do something else.

It’s no wonder these fake accusations and manipulated photos are treated as the truth only when it aligns with someone’s personal prejudices.

Why is it so hard to believe real fans are skeptical of accusations when Photoshop and Deepfakes exist? We seriously can’t just treat everything at face value just bc our moral instinct is always to trust the accuser. It’s innocent until to proven guilty in America for a reason. Because ppl weaponize anything they can against those they hate. It’s the sad reality of the world we live in now. It doesn’t make you morally superior in a court case if you always believed the accuser from the beginning. It just makes you subjective.

We have a serious issue in many countries where idols personal lives are treated as public entertainment. It’s not okay to harass and follow someone when they’re not working. That’s their private time to rest, even in public. And YES I understand how celebrities expect this kind of treatment, but what kind of career is one where your fans would literally try to rip the hair off your head to sell on Etsy later? (I’m referring to a Nicki Minaj incident) where you sign an autograph and it gets sold? Or you give someone something special you performed with and see it for sale later? Wouldn’t every interaction feel like a money grab? It would be extremely hard to feel a connection with fans when you don’t know who is genuine.

I saw someone got sent a misprinted version of Taylor’s new vinyl album and the comments were FULL of people saying to sell it for 8x the price she bought it for. Like why is that your first thought? You received something rare that makes you a unique fan, and ppls first thoughts were money?

Idk, there’s just something about fan culture that has gone so wrong. At least on tumblr, I remember YEARS ago that ppl refused to share paparazzi pics and anything leaked from a celebs personal life. But now not only are pap pics acceptable, but fansites photos run by sasang are as well?

I pray ppl start standing up for these idols before we lose any more of them.

#ask #answered #anon #johnny #taeil #lucasconfessions #lucas #Yukhei

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inkykeiji · 3 years

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anonymous said: i would like to suggest, keigo having you on speed dial to call you up and use you whenever he's too pent up because his public girlfriend wont sleep with him. you feel guilty for being the other woman but you were such a big fan of his. you want to end this but keigo isn’t about to let his little bird get away

warnings: 18+, dubcon, rough sex, manipulation, minimal prep, cheating, mentions of caning, noncon photography, dacryphilia, slight degradation peppered with slight praise

words: 3.3k

Gentle vibrations coursing through your mattress and quivering softly against your skin rouse you from your half-conscious state, bleary eyes blinking slowly as you gain your bearings again. It’s late, the wall of full-length crystal windows allowing the moon’s beams to stream into your condo, weakened by the magnificent glow of the city below it, encased in halos of turquoise and jade and violet.

And then, the vibrations start again, and your heart drops.

You know who it is before you even glance at the screen of your phone. Only one person ever calls you this late.

You had been expecting it, to be honest. Crime has hit an all-time high, and it seems like every time you turn on the news, or scroll through your social media feed, there’s a fresh story about a new villain he’s just defeated, headlines in big bold letters, peppered with photos of windswept golden hair and an award-winning smile, or grainy footage of him zipping around, so fast he’s just a blur of gold and crimson, as he neutralizes the enemy, serif words chalk full of praise for the Number Two Hero. As always.

It makes you sick, makes your stomach churn with a toxic mixture of guilt and revulsion.

Yet, in spite of this, your hand moves on its own, disobeying your brain as it screams at it to let it go to voicemail, just this once, thumb pressing that little green button before bringing the heavy electronic to your ear, quiet and groggy as you answer.

“I’m in the lobby,” his smooth voice, always laced with just a hint of cheekiness, flows through the speaker like melted chocolate, dark and decadent. “Let me in?”

You know he could get in on his own if he really wanted to—he chose this building for a reason, after all. He chose you for a reason, after all.

He could’ve had anyone—could still have anyone—he wanted, with a plethora of beautiful, adoring, devoted young women hanging on his every word, but he picked you. He picked you, because no matter how dedicated and supportive all of those other girls are, none of them have ever loved him the way you did—the way you do.

The feeling lingers, much to your disgust. It lingers when he gives you that gentle, private smile—the one the cameras have never seen, the one that he saves just for you, in the middle of the night after he’s filled you with cum and sucked his name into your neck; lingers when he murmurs sweet nothings into your hair, arms curling around you in the early morning sun; lingers when he fucks you stupid, until you’re a sobbing, drooling mess, until all you can think about is his cock.

The soles of your bare feet echo as they pad against the marble floor, powerless to stop the heavy sigh that slips from between your lips as you fiddle with the little keypad close to the front door, those soft beepbeepbeeps forcing chills to skitter across your skin.

Once, this condo had been everything you had ever wanted. Once, you had considered yourself lucky to be the mistress of such a well-known, distinguished, so-called good man. Once, you had dreamt of him, every single night, of lazy smiles and easygoing drawls, of wicked golden eyes and matching tousled hair.

Once.

Now, it feels like nothing but a cold, empty cage. Fitting, you snort to yourself, shaking your head a little.

Now, all of those extravagant items he had bought for you—the expensive coffee machine, the stupidly massive 4K TV, all of the shimmering dresses and lavish coats, the silk sheets outfitting your gigantic bed, the delicate Agent Provocateur lingerie—have bile rising in the back of your throat, coating your tongue in bitterness, dread sinking thick and heavy in your stomach, turning your blood to concrete in your veins.

Now, that golden gaze makes your skin crawl, those large, impossibly soft hands—protected by those ridiculous gloves, of course—make you want to scrub your body with scalding water until it’s raw, until you’ve ridded yourself of his stare, of his touch, of his scent—sickly sweet and sticky like toffee, blazing and spicy like cinnamon.

And yet, the feeling still lingers, taking root deep at the very core of your body, feeding off your soul like a fucking parasite.

Teeth clack against yours the moment your front door swings open, your body slammed up against the wall a second later as he skillfully kicks the door shut, producing an echo of tremors through the surrounding walls much too loud for three in the morning.

Hands, silky and smooth, are gliding up your bare thighs, playing with the hem of your lacy babydoll slip, lithe fingers tangling in it and pulling as he sucks on your tongue.

“Missed you,” he mumbles between kisses, catching your bottom lip and tugging on it just to hear you whine, a delicious chuckle vibrating against your mouth a moment later, inspiring a shameful, scalding heat to begin spreading in the pit of your belly. “So much,”

“Did you?” and you hate how breathless you already are, hate the way your head tilts and neck arches as his lips travel down the sensitive skin, nipping gently with his front teeth.

“You know I did,” he singsongs, but you can hear the irritation sown into his tone. Hands grip your shoulders, pinning you against the wall, a soft noise of surprise escaping your lips. “Mm,” he hums appreciatively, pulling back a little as lidded eyes scan your form, dark like thick caramel when they meet yours again. “You know this one’s my favourite,”

It is, composed entirely of scarlet lace that dips just below your sternum, the delicate material clinging to your body like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination.

His hands roam, taking the hem of the dainty fabric with him as he pushes it over your hips, up your abdomen and to your breasts, before letting the garment slide down your body again.

The softest, sweetest mewl of his name escapes your lips as the tip of his tongue flicks over a lace covered nipple, circling it once before taking it between his teeth and tugging slightly.

Another laugh, deep and dark, vibrates against your chest, while a hand slips between your thighs, a soft groan rumbling in his chest.

“Such a good, good girl for me, aren’t you?” Two fingers rub achingly slow circles into your clit, Keigo’s tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at a pert nipple again, drenching the lace in saliva. “Following the rules, just like I asked,”

A whimper catches in your throat and you nod, spikes of sharp fear shooting through your stomach as faded memories float languidly through your mind. You can barely remember it, brain so delirious from the pain that you hardly retained any of the experience, but the sound of the cane slicing through the air, mingled with the sound of your own wails echoing throughout the bachelor condo, the intense sting of its impact against your bare skin, the ache in your fingers from gripping the bedsheets that lingered for days later…Those you remember.

He had turned your backside into a brilliant piece of art, you remember him telling you, the morning after when gentle fingers were rubbing cream into your wounds, the obnoxious click! of his phone camera sounding a few moments later seared into your memory. Such a beautiful masterpiece, full of periwinkle and indigo, and it was all for him—because of him.

You couldn’t sit properly for a week and a half after the incident, and that you’ll never forget, either.

All because you had broken one teeny tiny rule, a rule you didn’t even know was a rule, a rule you thought he had been joking about—no panties when sleeping.

Two fingers pushing into your little hole snaps your mind back to the present, a whine falling from your lips as your hips push towards his palm, instantly craving more of him. Curved lips, formed in the shape of a sinful smirk, drag along your jaw as he murmurs to you. You like that, baby? Huh? Did you miss me as much as I missed you?

It’s only been a few days since you saw him last, but you find yourself nodding anyway, breathy little yeses exhaled through parted lips as his fingers pump in and out of you, knuckles curling with each pull out, catching on the spot that has you moaning out his name, that has you pathetically trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, that has you begging for more.

He’s always impatient anyway, barely takes any time to stretch you out—just enough so it isn’t uncomfortable for him, really, scissoring his fingers and grinding the heel of his palm against your clit until it’s throbbing, until he deems you wet enough to take him.

The drywall quivers as Keigo deftly spins you, shoving you against it, a low whine sounding in the back of your throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you in this,” he says decidedly, as if he’s just chosen what his lunch will be for tomorrow, big hands roaming over your ass, kneading and squeezing.

“Keigo, please, not here—”

“Shh,” he hushes you, and his voice is so gentle, so tender, gathering the delicate lace in his fists and pushing it up, up, up, until it bunches around your waist. “Be good for me, yeah?” sharp teeth sink into the back of your neck hard enough to break the skin, an alpha marking his territory, your responding cry muffled by the wall. “I’ve had such a long day,” he mumbles against you, licking over the bite. “Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you all day, y’know,” his hips grind against your ass, hard cock nearly slipping between your cheeks and accentuating his point, the thin fabric of his grey sweatpants being the only barrier between you. “And that bitch couldn’t satisfy me right even if her life depended on it,”

His tone darkens at the end, and you hate the way it still manages to send a flock of butterflies fluttering through your stomach, hole clenching greedily around nothing.

“So be a good girl—” a slap echoes throughout the empty apartment as his palm collides with your skin. “—and lift your hips for me,”

And then he’s tugging, hands wrapped around your hips as blunt nails dig into your flesh and hoist up, forcing you onto your tiptoes. You obey, of course, because you always obey, aiding him by pushing your ass towards him, chest and cheek pressed up against the wall.

A shiver courses through your body as he leans away for a moment, taking his body heat with him, the shutter of his phone camera click!ing a few times in quick succession.

“Fuck,” he breathes, heat returning as he taps the head of his cock against your soaking cunt, reveling in the soft, wet little slaps. “You’re so beautiful,”

And he sounds so honest, so sincere, unexpected tears springing into your eyes and blurring your vision. Because his words shouldn’t, they absolutely shouldn’t inspire a deep warmth to bloom in your chest, but they do. It’s selfish, and pathetic, and derisive, sour shame taking root at your core a moment later, black and inky and rushing through your veins, eating up the warmth in an instant.

But Keigo shatters it all a second later with one quick, sharp thrust, burying himself deep within you, cockhead nudging against your cervix.

A yelp hitches in your throat at the sudden action, tears spilling over your lashline as your little hole burns, struggling to accommodate his girth. “Too thick, Kei, too thick,”

He doesn’t care, he tells you with a breathless chuckle, hips setting a punishing pace right from the start, refusing you even a moment to adjust. He knows you love it, he says to you, words growled into your ear with a sadistic smile, punctuated by the harsh slap of skin against skin that accompanies each of his thrusts.

Your nails scrape against the drywall, trying in vain to grip something, anything, to keep you upright as he pounds into you. A harsh gust of wind swirls around you, cool against your heated skin, and then his wings are caging you in, slamming against the drywall with such force that bits of it crack and crumble. Your hands fly out to grip them, little fingers curling around the edges as you try to keep yourself steady for him.

The sweetest moan escapes his lips, hoarse and whiny in the back of his throat as you clamp down on them, fingers slotting through the sharp feathers, hissing through your teeth as they leave superficial cuts along your sensitive skin.

It’s beginning to build, that familiar heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, coiling tighter and tighter and tighter with each snap of his hips, broken whimpers and airy little Kei!’s slipping from your parted lips as your legs begin to tremble.

A deep growl rumbles in his chest as he tells you to keep standing, damn it, the order spit through clenched teeth as his fingers grip your hips, spots of blue and purple blooming under them.

You’re trying, you want to tell him, words leaving your throat in the form of pitiful little sobs as your fingers clutch his wings, joints aching and stiff from being curled in the same position for so long.

The heat is rising, higher and higher and higher until your choking on it, scalding your tongue and blistering your throat.

“M’gonna—” you gasp out, the words garbled with spit as teary eyes roll back in your skull.

“Yeah—Y-Yeah,” he encourages breathlessly, hips gaining more speed with each piston into you, cock repeatedly dragging against that spot, the one that alights your entire body, that shoots tingling sparks up your spine and through your veins. “C’mon, baby, cum for me, cum—” a low grunt cuts him off, hips stuttering. “—Cum on my cock,”

It’s pathetic, really, how quickly your body obeys, knees nearly buckling as uncontrollable mewls of his name escape your lips, catching in your chest with his ruthless thrusts as you gush around him, cute little cunt clenching almost painfully on his thick cock.

“Good—Good girl. Now beg for it,” and he’s nearly whining, voice cracking as his movements begin to falter.

Pleads spill from your lips before you even know what you’re saying, voice absolutely wrecked as you beg for him to please, gimme your cum, please k-keigo, want it, I want it, I want it, fill me up, please, please, please!

Honestly, how can he deny you when you’re asking so nicely, so prettily for him, hips messily pounding into you three more times before he stills, the weight of his body crushing you against the wall as his cock pulses, filling you with ropes upon ropes of thick, hot cum.

And he’s relentless that night, insatiable that night—fucking you over the arm of the couch, deep and hard and fast, cockhead slamming against your bruised cervix as a hand fists in your hair and yanks you up, snarling out the dirtiest words as his lips graze your ear, then praising you for being such a good little cockslut for him; fucking you in your giant jacuzzi bathtub, nimble fingers digging into your hips as he forces you to ride him, reinstating the fresh bruises from not long before; fucking you into your plush mattress, sharp hipbones signing his name into the soft flesh of your inner thighs in blotches of navy and violet as endless tears leak from your eyes, streaming into your hairline, head beginning to throb from dehydration.

The sun is just beginning to rise, peaking over the horizon and painting the city in a soft golden light. The buzzing of a phone on your nightstand rouses you from your half-asleep state for the second time, lifting your head to blink blearily at Keigo, who rolls his eyes without even glancing at the caller. It’s her—you know it is, calling to ask him where the hell he is, if he’s alright, if he’s coming home soon, if he’s safe—and acrid guilt settles on your tongue.

He lets it go to voicemail without a second thought.

“I hate her,”

“Break up with her, then,”

“And what, date you?” he snorts, and although you know he doesn’t mean for it to, it still stings. Rolling over, he turns to face you, his head propped up by his palm. “You know I wish I could,” he says softly, his free hand reaching out to cup your cheek, fingers grazing your cheekbone. “You know I would if I could, but…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t need to—you’ve heard it a thousand times before.

Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

But she’s the daughter of a world-renowned, established hero—you’re a quirkless nobody. But she’s good for his image, good for his brand—you’re not.

Sometimes, though, after he’s fucked you into a boneless mess, when he’s laying in your bed with a cigarette perched so artfully between his fingers, he opens up, allows you a tiny peak inside that gorgeous head of his.

Tonight it’s something you’ve heard before, but you don’t mind listening anyway, drawing nonsensical patterns on his bare chest, little fingers following the dips and curves of strong muscle, gliding under smooth skin that almost shines gold in the pale morning light, little blonde hairs catching in the beams as he breathes slowly.

It fucking sucks, he’s telling you, honey eyes trained on your finger’s movements, following its ministrations in a trance. He never wanted this—never asked for this, he admits to you, as he has so many times before, at four in the morning when the city is at its quietest, just before it begins to wake with the dawn of the sun. He hates it, all of the obligations and responsibilities that have been thrust upon him since he was a child.

“Sometimes I feel like my spine’s gonna fucking crack under all of it,” he laughs a little, though it’s wobbly and frail, looking away from you as he stubs out his cigarette.

“It’s just exhausting,” he flops onto his back with a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling. And you can hear it, his voice heavy with fatigue, with the duties that have been forced upon him, the ideals he’s been forced to uphold, laced with a hint of melancholy.

It makes your heart ache, despite the derision you now feel towards him. You don’t know his struggle—never could, never will—but he looks so…sad, eyes desolate as they gaze up at nothing, lips pressed together in a thin line. And that spark of love, the one you repeatedly keep trying to snuff out, blazes with the need to comfort him.

Reaching over, gentle fingers card through his sweaty golden locks, soft and shining in the dim light. His chest rises and falls with the effort of another sigh, eyes closing briefly at your touch, nuzzling ever so slightly into you.

“But at least I’ve got you, right?” he rolls onto his side, hands finding your hips as he drags you towards him, pulling you into his embrace and crushing your body against his chest. “You’ll never leave me, will you, my little bird,”

And although it isn’t phrased as a question—because he already knows the answer—you respond anyway, swallowing thickly against the acid rising past the lump lodged in your throat. “No, Keigo, never,”

#takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #hawks x reader #hawks smut #takami keigo #this is how we're gonna do ask oneshots now #because they're TOO LONG jfc #my own fault i know #WHEWWWW WAY LONGER THAN IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOL #HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEIGO I GUESS #tw manipulation #tw cheating #tw degradation

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years

Text

↳ pro!hero bakugou katsuki x reader → safe

summary: you broke up with bakugou a month ago but you’re terrified and he’s the only person you can call tags/warnings: stalker and confrontation with said stalker, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending word count: 2,698 a/n: this is different from what i usually write but i like the way it came out.

Bakugou had been miserable for the past month. It was so stupid, he couldn’t even remember what the fight had been about. Maybe he had been too busy at work, wasn’t making enough time for you, or maybe he had said something rude without thinking. Whatever it was it had gotten out of hand so quickly. He said stuff he didn’t mean and before he knew it he was walking out of your shared apartment. He had been crashing at Kirishima’s apartment for the time being, he refused to get any of his stuff from his place. If he did that it felt like putting a nail in the coffin that was your relationship.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, your name popped up on the screen and he sighed. You were probably calling about getting his stuff, you had texted him before about it. He knew that ignoring you wasn’t the best tactic at getting back together but at this point, he didn’t know what to do. He tossed his phone down and went to the other room to finish doing his laundry.

He hated what happened, he hated being away from you. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat and it was starting to catch up to him. He felt sluggish and worn down and it was starting to affect his work. He needed to apologize but every time he wanted to call you he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Bakugou knew he would settle things with you eventually but it would take time. He didn’t want to lose you, you were his everything. You had been with him for so long, always supporting him and comforting him when he needed it but refused it from anyone else. He refused to lose you.

Bakugou would apologize to you, he just didn’t know when.

It had started a few days after Bakugou left, photos on your kitchen counter. At first, you thought Bakugou had been by when you were out and left something. Your heart fluttered in your chest, did he leave some thoughtful apology? You were dying to be back with him again but you couldn’t forgive him until he at least showed he was sorry.

Your heart dropped and froze in fear. They were pictures of you, leaving the house, ordering coffee, at work. There was a note with them. Finally he’s gone, you deserve better. Your hands shook as you held it up looking for any clue who left them but there weren’t any. You had gone to the police but they said there was nothing they could do until there was more evidence.

Maybe it was a sick prank from a friend. No, none of your friends would think that was okay. You prayed it was a one-time thing but a week later there were more. The photos were recent, from the day before. I’ve been watching you for a long time, we haven’t met but we will soon. The note made bile rise in your throat. You thought about calling Bakugou but your pride was still too strong and you couldn’t ask for Kirishima’s help either since you knew he was sheltering Bakugou at the moment. You knew the red-head wouldn't keep the information from him.

Another week and more photos. I love you, I’ll make you so happy. You already could barely sleep without Bakugou but with this fear gripping you, you couldn’t get any now. Every noise in the house, every shadow that moved nearly sent you into a panic attack. The police wouldn’t help, you felt so helpless.

It was dark out as you walked home from work. Your phone rang and you were quick to pick it up hoping it was Bakugou. You would give anything to feel safe in his arms again, to spend the evening watching TV curled up on the couch, to fall asleep on his chest lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart beating.

“It’s time. It’s finally time for us to meet, my love. I can’t wait.” The voice that came through the phone was unfamiliar but you immediately knew it was the man who had been stalking you. Before you could say anything he hung up.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest and you couldn’t breathe. You were terrified, more than you ever had been in your entire life. You called the only person that ever made you feel safe, stubbornness be damned. You knew he was always there for you, that he would protect you from anything even after everything that happened.

Bakugou’s phone rang and rang but there was no answer. You called him over and over but he didn't pick up. Tears began to stream down your face. Was he still so mad at you that he wouldn't answer your call? Or was he indifferent to you? Had he moved on? The thought of him at dinner with another woman denying your calls as you feared for your life sent a sting of pain through your chest. You kept calling as you reached your apartment, locking the door and putting a chair in front of it. If he had a key maybe that would help block it. You kept calling, praying that he would pick up. Hands shaking around your cell phone.

The doorknob turned and your heart stopped, the door opened but was stopped by the chair you had propped against it.

“What do you want?” Bakugou’s tone was harsh as usual.

“K-Katsuki, please oh my god. Help me please.” You sobbed into the phone. Fear and relief flooding through you. You were in danger now more than before but you had finally gotten ahold of Bakugou. “T-There’s a man trying to get into the h-house, he’s been stalking m-me.” You gasp through sobs.

“Let me in, love.” The man's voice comes through the door as it shakes and the chair begins to wiggle loose.

“Barricade the door then find somewhere to hide.” Bakugou is breathing heavy, you can hear his footsteps through the phone and you already know he’s on his way. Kirishima’s apartment isn’t far away but you wonder if Bakugou will be fast enough.

You slide a dresser from entryway in front of the door before darting off to your bedroom and diving to the ground. You crawl underneath the bed, the phone still clutched in your hand. You can hear Bakugou’s explosions, you know that he’s trying to get there as fast as possible. All he can hear are your sobs.

“Are you hidden?” He asks trying to keep his voice calm for you.

“Y-Yeah.” You answer, in the living room you can hear the furniture in front of the door being thrashed around. “I-I think he’s g-going to get in. Katsuki I’m so scared.” You cry. Tears are pouring down your face and terror has enveloped you fully. You wonder if this is the last time you’ll get to speak with the love of your life.

“I’m almost there okay, you’re going to be okay.” He says but you can still hear a tinge of fear in his voice. "Just take deep breaths okay, I won't let him hurt you."

"O-Okay," Your words are shaky but you try to do as he says.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I should be there at home with you. I should be protecting you. I didn’t mean anything I said. I love you so much.” He sounds so sad, so scared. It’s not a tone you hear from him often.

“I’m sorry, I should have said it sooner. Katsuki-”

A crash echoes through the house and you know that he’s inside.

“He’s inside, oh my god. He’s in our house.” You can’t help but cry, trying to keep your voice down.

“Just stay quiet, I’m almost there,” Bakugou begs.

You’re curled up under the bed, one hand clutching your phone to your ear and the other gripping the carpet for dear life. You try to keep your breaths shallow, hold in your sobs but you let a quite whimper out.

“You don’t have to be scared, my love.” The voice is in the room with you.

“Katsuki, I love y-” You whisper into the phone but it's cut off by your scream as you feel the man pull you by your ankle dragging you out.

“No!” Is the last thing you hear Bakugou scream through the phone as it clatters onto the ground.

Bakugou’s heart is pounding out of his chest. He’s almost there, running up the stairs to your floor faster than he’s ever moved before. This was all his fault, if only he had apologized then he would be home keeping her safe. If something happened to her, if she died- There would be no forgiveness for him. He wouldn’t deserve it. Every step he beats himself up more and more. Why hadn’t he just said sorry and gone home? It wasn’t worth their relationship and it wasn’t worth your safety.

He thinks about the ten missed calls he saw on his phone before picking up, he thinks about how scared you must have been thinking that no one would help you. Did you think he abandoned you? That he was ignoring you while you were terrified?

He finally gets to your floor, the door to your apartment is wide open and there's furniture scattered in the entryway. A piercing scream sends shivers down his spine. If he leaves a mark on you he won’t hesitate to kill him.

“Stop struggling, I’m here to help you. You deserve someone who cherishes you.” He hears a man’s voice from their bedroom. As he enters he sees the man shaking you harshly against the wall.

“You bastard, get your filthy hands off of her.” He growls out and he’s tearing him off of you before he realizes that Bakugou had entered.

All Bakugou can see is red as throws him to the ground. In a flash he's on top of him, punch after punch, blood covering his face. He can’t hold back, he can’t stop thinking about what could have happened if he was too late. Images of you harmed in different ways flash through his mind and it pushes him further.

“Katsuki-” Your quiet, broken voice pulls him from his cloud of violence. His attacks stop as he turns to look at you. You're on the floor against the wall, hands around your knees and your shaking so bad. Tears are running down your face non-stop and it breaks his heart more than anything ever has. He’s never seen you so scared in his whole life.

Katsuki can hear help arriving and he knows it’s safe for him to get up, the stalker is out cold on the ground covered in his own blood. He doesn’t deserve any more time from him. Not when the love of his life needs him.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Bakugou’s voice is soft as he gets on the ground with you, his hands reach out gingerly to brush against your shaking arms trying his best to soothe you. “I’m so sorry this is all my fault.”

You reach out grasping onto him like he’s a raft in the middle of the ocean. He envelops you in his arms and you feel a wave of relief rush over you. You’re safe now. Bakugou’s here and you're in his arms. No one can hurt you anymore. His hand smooths the hair down at the back of your head and your breathing begins to calm.

Bakugou had called for backup, they had taken the attacker away and sat you down to ask some questions before they left.

You sat at your dining room table next to Bakugou and it suddenly was so quite. Furniture still laid across the floor, you couldn’t look at the door without thinking of the fear that flooded you.

“Let’s go to a hotel for tonight,” Bakugou says softly and you remember just how perceptive he is. “I’ll grab you a bag of your stuff.” He says before giving you a glass of water. “Just try and relax, I’ll be quick.”

Bakugou doesn’t take long before he returns with two duffel bags and your favorite pillow in hand.

“C’mon baby.” He says taking your hand in his.

The hotel room is nice, far nicer than it needs to be. At the top of the building, you can peer out of floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline. There’s a lot of space in the room itself decorated with nice furniture.

The bed is big and looks inviting especially with how tired your feeling right now. Bakugou is behind you, his hand running down your arm softly.

“Do you want to take a bath before bed?” He asks and you nod.

Bakugou leads you into the bathroom and starts the water. The tub is large and fancy, nice soaps and shampoos on the edge. He puts some soap in the water, bubbles forming.

“I’ll grab your bedclothes.” He says leaving the room. You strip down and get into the warm water. You close your eyes, sitting there with your knees drawn to your chest. The day is so unreal, it’s almost easy to pretend that you were just here with Bakugou for an anniversary or a trip. But the events of the day edge there way back into your mind.

“Shh,” You hear Bakugou shush you his hand rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t realize he had returned, and you didn’t realize the tears streaming down your cheeks. He sits on the floor next to the tub, leaning over to press a kiss against your forehead.

He helps you wash your hair and dry off when you’re ready. He’s brought your favorite pair of bedclothes and you change into them. Both of you get ready for bed.

The bed is comfortable as it looks. Getting under the large fluffy covers is comforting. Bakugo slides in beside you. You don’t hesitate to scoot towards him till you’re pressed against his side.

“I can’t go back to our house.” It’s hard to come to terms with and even harder to say. A part of you is scared Bakugou will say that he isn’t coming back to you, that he can take the apartment and you can find someone else to live. You’re tearing up before he can even say anything.

His hand is against your cheek, wiping away the tears there as he draws you to his chest.

“We can look for a new place tomorrow.” He says simply. “That place was starting to feel too small anyway.”

“T-Thank you.” Your words are shaky as you look up at him. He pulls you onto his chest, his hand rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “I’m sorry about what I said to you, I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not apologizing sooner. I failed you, I promised to protect you no matter what and I let you down.” His voice is hoarse with emotions.

“You saved me Katsuki.” You tell him.

“I should have been there, if I was there he never would have tried anything, and if he did he wouldn’t have gotten past the door.”

“What happened tonight was bad but I feel better knowing that he’s going to be locked away. If this didn’t happen I would have had someone stalking me and I never would have known.” You tell him. The thought of going about your life unknowingly being followed makes you sick.

“I’ll never leave you again. I promise you that. I’ll always be by your side.” He says, pulling you even closer. “I love you so much.” His eyes are pressed closed and you can practically feel the love coming off of him.

“I love you, Katsuki.” You return and your heart flutters at his declarations.

It would take a long time to recover from everything that had happened today but you know that Bakugou will be by your side through it all. That when he holds you in his arms it’s like a shelter from a raging storm.

You know that Bakugou Katsuki will always keep you safe.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #katsuki #bakugo

3K notes · View notes

hes-writer · 3 years

Text

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened. Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out. The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference. This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared. Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened. But it was easier said than done. There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop. It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots. Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location. And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips. It was mostly during his days off. She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before. The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it. Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her. It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to. Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her. It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption. A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot. It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her. Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance. Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud. She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, “There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach. It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there. It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts. Feels like he’s everywhere. Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain. She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend. She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey. Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically. “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows. Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl. Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N. Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged. He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything. When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again. So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry. That place meant a lot to you--sure. But it doesn’t matter. What counts is who you are with. Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on. Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you. He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to. Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #deja vu #sour #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic

229 notes · View notes

bts-reveries · 3 years

Text

expect the unexpected | 19

(images in between and in the end)

Jin had just picked up his two oldest and is now back in his office. It’s been a long day. Having Haneul alone with him was already a hard time but adding two more? He tried his best to maintain his composure as Yeonjun told him the rest of the schedule for today.

“So right now we have all this paperwork to go through because it has to be sent out today, and then we have to go to a video shoot at 4:30pm. Jungkook should be here soon. Afterwards, when we get back, we have a meeting regarding the promotional photoshoots for the new drama, Save Me, with their Director, Producer, and the seven lead actors.” Yeonjun says. “I heard it’s really good. Kind of confusing actually when I saw the trailer. There’s this seven group of friends and they all make some sort of bad decision in their lives and they.. Well not all of them but I think some of them die? Then come back to life? I don’t know, but one of them is a time traveler I think..” Yeonjun trailed on, looking up as he thought back to the trailer.

Although, Jin wasn’t really listening.

“Dad, what does this word mean?” Minseok asks, pointing to his book.

“Daddy can we get ice cream in the cafeteria,” Soojin says, holding onto the door knob.

“Carry meee,” Haneul whines, he’s standing by Jin’s leg, trying to climb onto his dad’s lap.

“Anyways,” Yeonjun says, going back on track. “It should be fun. They’ll be here around 6pm. Which, I understand, is around dinner time, but it was the only available time they had for a meeting. This drama was a big hit on webtoon. It’s good exposure for us for them to use our studio.”

“Dad!” Minseok called, he’s now standing next to Jin. “Can you help me please? I don’t know this word.”

“DDDAAAAAADDDYY!” Soojin yells. “Can we please get ice cream!”

“Caaarryyy meeeeee!” Haneul screams, bursting into tears.

Jin drops his head into his hands. “My head. Is going. To ex-plode.”

“Minseok, I’ll help you with your homework, come with me,” Yeonjun says, finally realizing how tired and stressed Jin was. Minseok glances at his dad before walking towards Yeonjun and grabbing onto his hand that he was holding out. Then Soojin came running to Jin’s side, where Minseok was just standing.

“Daddy you’re not listening to me,” Soojin frowns. Jin turns to the side and looks at her. His sweet, precious daughter. The one he can never say no to.

“Soojin it’s cold, you’re going to get sick if you eat ice cream,” Jin calmly says. “And you haven’t even done your homework yet. Go with Minseok and Uncle Yeonjun and do your homework with them.”

Soojin’s lip starts to quiver, “but I just want to eat a little bit. I can do my homework when I’m done…”

“Soojin, daddy said no. Now go,” Jin says, turning to the side to pick up Haneul. He was still crying his eyes out. Soojin looked down, a big frown on her face and tears started running down her face. Jin was too busy wiping Haneul’s tears away and shushing him that he didn’t know Soojin was crying until he heard her sobbing when she walked away.

“Soojin,” Jin called out. She didn’t answer, nor did she look back. “Soojinie,” Jin calls again. “Yah, Kim Soojin!”

“w-AHH!” Jin yells, the three, Yeonjun, Minseok, and Soojin all looked back at Jin when they heard him yell.

Yeonjun has never seen him so mad before.

Jin puts down Haneul and stands up.

Hot coffee dripped down his suit. His tie and white dress shirt was completely soaked.

Jin puts both hands on his desk, leaning forward as he sighs.

Haneul wasn’t done crying, flailing his hand around and started hitting things on the table, grabbing things, causing Jin’s cup of coffee to come flying at his chest. Not to mention, spilling all over the paperwork that had to be done.

“Sir, I have a sweatshirt you can borrow in my bag,” Yeonjun says, standing up immediately to grab his duffle bag. He usually worked out in the gym Jin had a whole floor of in his building. “You can change into it now so you don’t get all sticky,” he says, handing a white sweatshirt to Jin. Jin says a quiet thank you, grabbing the sweatshirt from Yeonjun and placing it on the back of his chair as he took off his blazer, his tie, and his white dress shirt.

Haneul was still sniffling and he quickly ran to Yeonjun when he made eye contact with his dad.

“Yeonjun,” Jin says. “Do you have the soft copy for these,” he says, pointing to the sticky mess on his table.

“Yes sir,” Yeonjun says, running over to get his laptop. “I’ll send them to you right now.” Jin sounded awfully calm right now, which scared the kids even more. Minseok was fidgeting with his book as he looked at his dad and Soojin was sitting next to him, playing with her hands. Haneul was standing by the couch, trying to hide. He would take small glances at his dad as he watched him clean up the mess he made.

“And also, we can’t cancel the meeting so just make sure our guests feel welcome when they come here for our meeting. I’ll connect from my laptop because we’ll be going home soon. I’ll continue my work there. You’re in charge here, make sure everyone is in that meeting and please have someone set up a TV in our boardroom so they can all see me when I connect. Umm, yeah, that’s all-- Oh, I won’t be there for the video shoot. We won’t get anything done and will only be a bother if I come with the kids so just go with Jungkook okay?”

“Okay sir.”

“Kids pack your stuff, we’re going to leave in a bit,” Jin says, going back to cleaning his desk. The kids hurriedly grabbed their things, stuffing it into their backpacks.

Jin wasn’t mad often, but when he was…

He’s definitely scary.

“Hello everyone, first of all, thank you all for being here. I apologize that I couldn’t be there with you in person. I really wanted to be there but I am working as both CEO and dad tonight,” Jin says lightheartedly. He watches everyone smile through his laptop. “Second of all, I want to apologize beforehand. My three kids might pop up here and there and interrupt, but I talked to them before this and we should be okay. But just in case,” Jin says, raising his head to see if the kids are nearby. His office had clear doors for him to be able to see the kids.

“Okay, so it looks like the coast is clear,” Jin jokes, we can start our meeting now. Jin nods his head, gesturing for the first person to go ahead and start off the meeting. First they had to talk about the drama and it’s concept so they can have a feel of how they can take the photos.

“Daddy,” Jin hears from the side. He shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath before moving his head out of frame to see Haneul peeking in the room. “I want to stay with you..”

Jin mutes his mic before talking to Haneul.

“Daddy’s in the meeting, can you please go to your brother and sister and wait until I’m done?”

Haneul shakes his head no, walking towards Jin. “I want to stay with youu~” He says, trying to climb onto Jin’s lap yet again.

Jin sighs, pulling Haneul up and placing him on his lap.

“What do you think, Mr. Kim?”

Jin’s eyes widened, unmuting himself. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

The director laughs. “We’re thinking of doing one concept as school themed. Since the seven characters will be meeting at school in the drama. Would we be able to do that?”

“Yes, that sounds good. We have school props that we can use for the photoshoots, like desks and the blackboard. Yeonjun show them a picture that we have from a previous photoshoot where we did a school concept.”

“I don’t like that,” Haneul says, causing a few heads to look up. Jin looks down and shushes him.

“It’s not for you to like,” he says.

As the meeting went on, Haneul got bored and began picking at things on the table.

“Haneul please don’t touch anything,” Jin says, moving Haneul’s hand away from the table and holding onto them.

“What is it Mr. Kim?”

“Oh no sorry, I was talking to my son. Please,” Jin says, moving a hand to gesture to the camera. “Continue.”

After Jin lets go of Haneul’s hands, he immediately slams a hand on the keyboards, shutting it off.

“What did you do!” Jin yells. Trying to turn the laptop back on but it looks like it froze or something because it wasn’t turning on.

“I don’t want to be in the meeting,” Haneul says, watching Jin frantically trying to get his laptop to work. Jin sighs in annoyance, grabbing Haneul and putting him down next to him.

“Then why didn’t you stay with your siblings?” He says. “This is an important meeting Haneul, I was already supposed to be there in person and now I can’t even join--”

“I just want to play--”

“I’m speaking right now,” Jin says to him, turning to look him in the eye.

“Okay,” Haneul answers quietly.

“Is that right or not?”

“That’s right.”

“You did something wrong, do you agree?”

Haneul nods, his lip beginning to quiver and his eyes starting to water.

“Go stand in the corner, you’re in a time out,” Jin tells him, nodding to the corner of his office. Haneul burst into tears as he ran to the corner where his dad told him to go, holding his face in his hands.

“Stay there until I finish my meeting,” Jin tells him, returning back to his laptop. It still wasn’t turning on.

Jin runs his hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. He grabs his phone and texts Yeonjun.

“Haneul shut off my laptop and it’s not turning on. I’ll connect through my phone just give me a few minutes.”

expect the unexpected

♡ part nineteen: daddy said no ♡

pairings: ceo, dad!jin x interior designer, mom!reader

a/n: the part where jin says “im speaking right now” to “you did something wrong do you agree?” and everything in between was a real convo between him and yoongi when he kept talking while jin was talking😭 i’ll reblog this later with a link lol

edit: actually here it is: 0:39-0:44

taglist: @silentlyimpractical @jillianmarie @waddlebby @cecedrake2217 @ddofa @samros95 @sope-and-shine @joonjoonsmiles @codeinebelle @aianloveseven @Chamchamcham @princessjazzyjazz @notvantaes @casspirit0705 @ramyagovindraj @brinnalaine @ephyra1230 @betysotelo18 @thoughtfultaledreamer @salty-for-suga @cosmicdaylight @dreamcatcherjiah @kookoo-kachoo @justinetingball @josierosie @jayhope88 @butterflylion @hobiismyhopeu @momma-said-that-it-was-oke @ygbubs @catspancake @somewhereofftheglobe @strawberryforever25 @rjsmochii @prdshobi @beeeb05 @eatjeanjin @taekookcaneatme @Cheeely14 @kookietsukkie @anpanman-sonyeondan @glitteringcoffeefreak @chocobetterknot @alpaca1612 @ohmy-fandoms @liljooniecutie @Jikachoo @preciouschimine @fan-ati--c @Joondala @httpmuffin @dammit-jjk @jikooksgirl19

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 3 years

Text

My Brother

Summary: When Inko is fifteen she is handed a picture of her and a blonde boy. She asks who it is. "Your brother. Your parents gave him up because he was Quirkless." Inko spends the next part of her life looking for her brother, only for her son to pull him into her house one day, announcing he found Uncle Toshinori.

On AO3

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When Inko was fifteen, her aunt pulled her to the side and handed her a photo. The photo featured her as a little baby, green hair showing above her head, dressed in a little jumper with a pacifier in her mouth. She’s being held awkwardly by a blond boy with big blue eyes, a big grin across his face.

“Who’s this?” She asked her aunt, curious.

“Your brother.” Her aunt told her.

“What?” Inko asked. She looked at the photo again. “Is… what happened?” She asked her aunt, clutching it in her hand.

“Your parents waited for his Quirk. He didn’t have one.” Her aunt told her, blunt. Her aunt’s hands were threaded together, clutching each other. “They didn’t like that.”

“... but they work with Quirkless Discrimination agencies. They donate money to…” Inko began but her mind began clicking, thinking.

Her father’s slight sneer when talking about Quirkless people when they were home, just the family. Her mother’s muttering about donating money being a pain.

“... they’re pretending.” She whispered. Her aunt nodded.

“They are. Its status, it’s trendy. Pretending you aren’t a bigot.” Her aunt shrugged. Inko didn’t want to believe. She gave the photo back anyway when her aunt asked her.

She had to talk to them.

-0-

“YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A BUNCH OF LIARS!” She screamed at her father. “He was my brother-“

“He was useless to us!” Her father snapped. “Quirkless- worth nothing in the long run. Your useless Quirk at least makes you a viable bride-“

“GO TO HELL!” She screamed and ran up to her room.

“Calm down, she’ll understand. He wasn’t worth it.”

Screw that. She grabbed her cell phone and called her aunt.

“Auntie, can you bring your truck?”

“Of course.”

It didn’t take long for Inko to pack up what she needed. She ignored the knocking of her mother when it happened and she waited.

Her aunt showed up.

“Haruka! Why are you here?” She heard from downstairs and came down, carrying a few bags.

“The rest are upstairs. I refuse to be in a house of hypocrites.” Her parents didn’t like it, yelling she was overreacting.

Her threat to tell everyone the truth about her brother had them letting her go.

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe. She thought so the moment she got in her aunt’s big grey truck, the one she used to deliver things. She looked to the front door where her parents were glaring at her aunt who stood with her arms crossed.

Her tall aunt, blonde hair hanging down her back, like her brother’s, Inko’s father. She was tall, tough. Inko looked up to her. Ever since she was a little kid and her aunt had thrown her father into a wall when he’d dared hit Inko.

“You treat your kid right or I’ll hurt you.” She’d threatened.

Inko blinked, mind going to many incidents in her life where her aunt had stepped in to stop them from hurting Inko. Where her aunt had told her to not listen to her mother who picked at her appearance, where her aunt had snuck her food when her mother forced her into a diet. Where her aunt had given her money and helped her open a bank account her parents had no control over and had fought with her parents who tried to demand she give them the information.

Sitting in the truck, she realized that maybe… the fact they would do that, lie like that… that was the final straw.

-0-

Living with her aunt was different. Inko found herself smiling more. Her aunt had a sense of humour that encouraged loud laughter. She never made Inko do anything she didn’t want and even let her drop out of some clubs that her parents had made her go to.

Inko found herself happy for the first time in a long time as she and her aunt tried to find out how to find her brother.

It was hard though. The files weren’t kept and her parents had given up all custody and signed multiple forms. As well, it had been fourteen years back.

Then her aunt got sick. Very sick.

“Cancer,” the doctors told her. “Pancreatic- most likely from all the chemicals she transported over the years.”

Pancreatic. Even in the 23 century, it was impossible to cure. Medical research in cancer and other such diseases had tapered off when Quirks became a thing. More focus was on that for a good fifty years or so. Then after that more focus was on other sorts of diseases brought around by Quirks or researching how to help people affected by Quirks.

“I’m not dying until you’re old enough to be an adult.” Her aunt grunted when Inko asked her how she was feeling. “Eighteen kiddo.” She bared her teeth. “Gotta hold on.”

Inko was eighteen and just finally finished high school when her aunt died. Her aunt had been living at home still, stubborn and refusing to go to hospice.

Inko came home after a night out after graduating high school to find her dead.

The funeral was a hard affair, her parents at least respectful enough to not start anything until after when they tried to get her to move back in with them.

“I was already accepted into university and will be living in the dorms. As well I told them you are not allowed to ever call and change anything about my classes or living arrangements.”

They were so mad and she got a call from the dorm manager who told her that they’d had several calls from them within a week. Each time demanding she not be allowed to room there or threatening them.

None worked. Inko ended up cutting off contact with some help from a friend she made in a study group, Midoriya Hisashi. He was so handsome and kind. He also understood her struggles.

“I grew up in the foster system for a good portion of my life. I got adopted at fourteen and… they weren’t good. Obsessed with the idea of being my parents, burning things I had of my biological parents. They were the sort of abusers who were kind, the ones you don’t realize are hurting you.”

It was like Inko and her own. She didn’t know their controlling behaviours, their actions were abuse.

Not until her aunt and her brother.

Soon after a few heart to hearts, they started dating, something that her roommate Mitsuki loved.

“He’s freaking handsome, you go girl!”

When Inko graduated with a degree in culinary arts, Hisashi proposed while heading to law school.

They got married the summer after. During that time though they discovered that Hisashi’s adopted parents died. Inko made the choice to try and let her own parents back into her life because she saw how much it hurt him.

“He’s so nice honey-“ Her mother said when they got in, stopping at seeing one of the photos in their apartment. Her and her brother.

Inko kept an eye on her mother after that, right up to the time she caught the woman trying to take it down.

“Stop it!”

“He’s not your brother he’s some thing- “ Inko didn’t let her say another word and shoved her out.

She didn’t talk to them again.

“Please don’t regret it,” Hisashi told her.

“I won’t,” Inko told him.

She continued to look for her brother, her husband helping. But it was hard. Harder, even more, when she became pregnant at age 28, just when Hisashi was finishing law school. They took a break, Inko going on maternity leave from the bakery she was working at.

She gave birth to a perfect little boy she loved dearly. Hisashi loved him too, even as his work became demanding. Being part of a hero’s legal team was hard after all. Especially a destructive one like the Empire who could cause earthquakes by accident.

Mitsuki already had a son named Katskii herself and the two hoped their sons would become friends, and it looked like they would though Inko worried. Katsuki was a headstrong little boy who seemed to love bossing others around. He was sometimes mean to Izuku and his meanness was cruel in ways she knew could cause problems.

Mitsuki at least also saw it. But her own parenting didn’t work well.

“My parents used to slap me around,” she told Inko blankly. “My dad once held my head underwater for a minute because I pissed him off. I… I try you know? But… where’s the line?”

“My parents controlled every aspect of my life. They would force me on diest when I was already too thin, would go through my emails and phone. My dad hit me too, but my aunt… she stepped in each time.” Inko told her back. They both knew already, but it was nice to talk about.

When her son, Izuku, was four though she sat in a doctor’s office and heard the worst discussion of Quirklessness in her life.

“That test hasn’t been allowed to diagnose Quirklessness for twenty-years!” she shouted at the doctor. “Blood test, now!” The doctor was pissed and refused so she stomped out with her son, making sure each parent in the waiting room knew the doctor was using outdated medical information before rescheduling an appointment with a different doctor.

Inko was darkly pleased that Dr. Tsubasa ended up being reprimanded and forced to take more classes. There was some issue with his grandson but his parents dealt with that.

Yet, when the blood tests came back, Izuku was diagnosed as Quirkless.

“He has no Quirk himself, though we believe any child he has with a Quirked individual will have a much more powerful Quirk than their other parent.” the doctor said. He was nicer at least. Izuku was so fragile, so small about this as they went home. He watched his favourite hero video, Inko watching from the door to the office.

“...Mama, can I be a hero too?” little Izuku said. Inko felt like breaking down. She didn’t think so. Izuku was so small, so little. And she had never heard about a Quirkless hero. But then she thought of her brother.

“I don’t know sweetie,” she finally admitted. She walked up to him and knelt down, hugging him. “But… I think you can do your best.” It wasn’t enough and she knew it but she also knew too well the Quirkless statistics.

That was the first night she told Izuku about her brother. She showed him the picture and explained.

“I won’t be like my parents,” she promised him. And she wouldn’t. Hisashi promised as well, and the two worked hard to make sure he was happy.

Inko did eventually go back to work when Izuku was five, hoping and praying her son would be okay.

She knew he was lying when he came home with ruined clothes and claimed it was all accidents. She knew he was lying when he tried to claim he was okay. But she couldn’t do anything. Not without actual proof.

She hoped Katsuki was helping her son.

She had a terrible feeling he wasn’t.

-0-

Inko and Hisashi began talking about opening a cafe when Izuku was six. The little boy was all for it, offering ideas and his own thoughts. They were happy. Inko still looked for her brother but she had accepted it might never happen. Izuku dreamed of being a hero. Hisashi was doing well at work.

And then…

Empire accidentally destroyed his own agency. Lost control.

Hisashi didn’t make it.

The large payout from the agency plus the Hero Public Safety Commission was enough for Inko to not have to work for years if they were careful.

It didn’t fix a single thing.

Inko would admit she lost herself for a year, completely unable to think or do anything. She wandered her apartment blankly.

It took her son hiding a broken wrist from her to snap her out of it. She was horrified and she marched into the school to scream at them. She listed exactly what she knew about anti-Quirkless Discrimination laws, and what she could do to them.

Izuku stopped being hurt that bad. But emotional abuse from his peers and teachers was harder to figure out.

Inko began to work on the cafe again, as well as she began helping out at rallies on anti-Quirkist ideas. Inko also made sure Izuku knew he could go to her no matter what, but also tried not to be her parents. She tried not to butt in at any time and let him live his own life.

As he got older she wondered if she should try more. If her hands-off approach was as bad as her own parent’s actions to her.

But she was terrified. She didn’t want to be them.

Inko watched as her son got older, as he got more secretive and worried. She tried to get him into programs but each time she was refused. Or they would let him go but then stop, saying he kept having people come and harass him.

“Then why is it his fault?” she asked them. They shrugged.

It was just easier to get rid of him than others. Izuku got very quiet after that and stopped wanting to do extra things.

She worried and worried and she would look at the photo of her brother. She wondered if the worry she had would be for him as well. If she had grown up with an older brother who was hated, who had to fight to be respected by anyone.

She was pretty sure she’d be more of a mess.

She also imagined though, a tall man coming in to help with Izuku. Who would help fight against the school. Who would be with her through the death of Hizashi.

She often stared at the photograph of her and her brother, wondering what if.

The cafe she started had a copy of the photograph and any person making any Quirkist comments was thrown out in seconds. She provided a safe space for everyone, and she found that by doing so she got a lot of customers from people who struggled to find a place in society.

It attracted other attention to, including a man she was fairly certain was an underground hero who came in with a black jumpsuit, getting the darkest coffee. He was a nice enough man though, and Inko found herself enjoying conversations with him. Mostly about cats or his loud friend she wanted to tell him was hitting on him.

When a loud man came in asking for the ‘regular coffee order’ for the jumpsuit guy she stared him down.

“Ask him out, we’re all done with his pining.” The man spluttered. “He talks about you nonstop. I don’t know his name, he pays with cash. He has mentioned you though enough I can recognize you on site. Ask him out please.”

Shuichi, one of the cafe workers snorted. “We’re all done. Please just date him already.” The lizard-like teen continued to work while the blonde spluttered but did leave with the regular coffee and an order for himself.

A week later both showed up, holding hands.

“Yay! The pinning is over!” Shuichi said from where he was trying to help Izuku with math, his angry mutters about how the teachers were purposely fudging his grades making Inko plan another trip to the school to threaten them.

“Yay!” Izuku laughed, the nine-year-old grinning at the nasty look he got. “You don’t scare me. I saw you sneak a cat in here in your scarf.”

Inko found herself laughing harder than ever that night, and the two- Shouta and Hizashi- became friends of the family.

As time continued to tick by, even with moments like the one where she made friends with the two she kept worrying. As Izuku got more and more nervous about school, as she saw scars he kept claiming she was mistaken about. As Mitsuki began whispering her worries over her son and how the school seemed to not worry over his anger or his attitude, as they seemed to ignore it.

She tried to talk to him but didn’t know what to do. She felt lost.

Then, he was fourteen and came home with a smile on his face and a spark in his eyes. He spoke happily and told her of his plan to start working out soon. She smiled and told him she was proud. It was March, nearing the end of his second year of middle school and she was happy he was happy.

A week into his spring vacation, he opened the door to the apartment holding the hand of a tall blonde man. She frowned.

“Izuku?” she asked him before she got a good look at the man. Her eyes widened at seeing that face.

“Mom… I found uncle Toshinori.”

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Is Shuichi who you think it is? Yes. Originally I was like: this is just an AU where it just so happens All Might is Inko’s brother but then my brain went: okay but- so Spinner is good in this AU as he managed to find a job with Inko and is the older brother figure to Izuku.

Hope you guys liked this! Next part would be a One Shot from All Might's perspective then we actually get the story-story from Izuku's!

#bnha au #bnha #my hero academia #inko midoriya #midoirya izuku #uncle all might #all might #erasermic #uncle might

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

you didn’t kiss her back

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of nsfw content, brooklyn :/

_____

In hindsight, he should have known.

He should have known when Brooklyn texted him the group invite for dinner in a separate text thread, not the intern groupchat, but he was too busy with work that day to even question it. Just liked the message as his usual form of RSVP.

He should have known when Brooklyn was ultra-polite to him at work that day, not adding any of her usual flirty comments or going out of her way to stroll by his desk. Instead, he was too caught up in work assignments and trying to figure out how late he could FaceTime Sophie that night without waking her up.

After the workday, Rafe was walking out to his car when Brooklyn jogged after him to catch up. “Hey, Rafe, wait up!”

He grimaced but turned around - he’d learnt to just deal with her presence over time. “What?”

“Um, my car’s almost out of gas and I don’t think I’ll make it to the restaurant and be able to make it home. Would you be able to give me a ride?” She asked, almost shyly.

Rafe calculated the drive time in his head. Eight minutes. “Uh...yeah. That’s fine.” He nodded shortly, then nodded his head in the direction of his car.

Brooklyn gave him a grateful smile, matching his quick pace to the car. “How was work for you today?”

“Fine.” Once he got in the car he dropped the act, just turning up the radio so they didn’t have to make more small talk. Just being near her made him feel on edge - the same way he often felt around his father. She reached out to touch his arm and he flinched away, making her giggle. “Someone’s tense.”

“Can you not?”

She rolled her eyes. “Touchy.”

“I’m trying to be civil here.” He remarked.

“Hm.” She let him sit in silence for a solid half minute, then spoke up again. “I saw Sophia posted some picture of her wearing a Cartier ring on her Instagram. Did you pay for that?” Brooklyn pushed, sounding almost nervous.

Rafe shrugged. “So what if I did?”

“You never bought me designer.” She glanced at her nails, trying to appear nonchalant.

He snorted. “You can buy yourself designer things just fine. We both know that.”

“Not the same.” She mumbled, then opened her mouth only to let out a sigh. “It’s just - never mind.”

He looked over with an annoyed glance, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “What.”

“Surely your dad doesn’t approve?”

Rafe tensed and she resisted a smile, knowing she had struck a nerve. Exactly what she wanted. “Since when have I cared about my dad’s approval?”

He might have gotten away with that with someone else, but Brooklyn could read him well. Too well. She’d seen him deal with his dad’s disappointment only a few times, - Ward was always on his best behavior whenever she was around, the model of a perfect parent.

Brooklyn laughed at that, shaking her head. “You’ve always cared about his approval, I find it hard to believe that’s changed in just a few months with some girl.”

“Eight months.” He corrected, his jaw clenched tight. “And you know her name. Don’t be rude.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Sophia or something. I just don’t get it.”

“It’s Sophie. Still. And good thing there’s nothing you need to get about my relationship.” His knuckles were nearly white around the steering wheel as he pulled into the small parking lot, then glanced around with a frown. “Where’s the other interns? Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

“Oh.” She raised her eyebrows, surprised. “I just sent the invite to you. You didn’t notice?”

He hadn’t, of course, but he wasn’t about to let her know that. He parked the car and turned it off, looking over at her with a confused expression. “What?”

“I didn’t send it in the group message, Rafe, I thought we could go out, um, with just us.” She gave him a small, earnest smile. “Like old times.”

He grimaced, closing his eyes for a second and taking a breath. “Are you forgetting that you broke up with me?”

“I mean - Rafe, come on. We worked well together. We could at least be friends.” Her tone took on a pleading edge and she leaned in a little closer, her arm nearly touching his on the center console.

“You made me feel like shit, Brooklyn.” He told her flatly, frowning. The last thing he wanted to do that day was rehash a conversation with his ex that they’d already had at least three times since breaking up. (The first was more akin to a drunken screaming match that ended in tears for both of them, the second was just bitter insults hurled back and forth, and the third was as short as possible, on the campus quad in between classes.)

“I just wanted to help you.” She murmured, then suddenly leaned over and kissed him quickly. He was so taken aback that it took him a second to spring back, eyes wide. “Brooklyn! What the hell!”

She blushed, embarrassed as she started stammering. “I didn’t mean - I wasn’t thinking -”

“Fuck.” He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and shuddered, looking disgusted. “Get out.”

She sat there for a moment longer, not looking at him. Her voice grew impossibly small and she picked at her cuticles, radiating anxious energy. “I didn’t drive.”

“I don’t care. Get an Uber or something, get the fuck out.” Rafe was practically fuming as he glared out his window, not wanting to acknowledge her.

“I - Rafe, I want -”

“Out.” He insisted.

She nodded quickly and scrambled out of the car, casting a wayward glance back after walking away. Once he was sure she was around the corner, Rafe slammed his fist on the steering wheel. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more - throw up or go scrub his body clean of any trace of her. Brooklyn’s floral perfume lingered in the car and he felt nauseous, unable to think of anything but Sophie and how she’d react once she found out.

After he took a few moments to center himself, absolutely livid, he punched the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot, repeatedly swiping his hand over his lips in an attempt to get Brooklyn’s signature cake batter-flavored lip gloss off. (The summer after the breakup, Wheezie had started wearing a vanilla sugar perfume that smelled all too similar - Rafe had a headache for weeks.) He drove to a nearby park and sat out by the water to get away from the overwhelming perfume scent in his car, and his hand was nearly shaking as he hit the app to FaceTime Sophie, nervous as hell.

She picked up right away, grinning once his face filled her screen. “Hi! It’s good to see you. I can’t talk long, I’m getting ready to go out, but what’s up?”

“Um...” Rafe briefly debated bringing it up, anxiously pulling at a loose thread on his shorts. “Just checking in. How’s your day been?”

“Oh my god, so...” She launched into a ramble about a cool new project she was working on, and how she got to be with some of her new friends, and how she aced her Spanish test. He listened, a little impatient, as guilt ate at him.

“Soph -” He tried interrupting, knowing if he put it off any longer he’d make himself sick.

She didn’t notice. “And it’s kind of tricky -”

“Baby, listen.”

“- But it’ll be really rewarding -”

“Brooklyn kissed me.” He blurted out quickly.

She froze immediately, eyes wide with her lipstick raised halfway to her mouth. “She did what?”

He bit his cheek hard before replying, his heart pounding. “I’m so sorry, Sophie, I didn’t - I should have known, her stupid dinner invite -”

“Rafe, shut the fuck up, why are you apologizing? You didn’t kiss her back.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of trust, but he almost flinched from the hard edge to her voice.

He shook his head frantically. “No! No, of course I didn’t. Fuck. She barely even touched my lips before I pulled away.”

“Fucking hell.” She had to set her phone down as she was practically shaking with anger. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew she was going to pull something, that - that -” She seethed, unable to get all her words out.

“That…?” He tried supplying.

“That bitch! Oh my god, what the hell? If I were there, I swear I’d - holy fuck. I’ve never wanted to punch someone until now.” She started pacing the room, flexing her fingers into fists.

Rafe couldn’t hide his tiny smile, raising his eyebrows. “You’re kind of hot when you’re mad.”

“Focus, Cameron.” She snapped. “Oh my god, she’s so fucking petty. First the Instagram messages, then this -”

“Wait, wait, hold on, what Instagram messages?” He interrupted, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh.” She scowled, crossing her arms. “She followed me a couple weeks ago and went through and liked the posts that you’re in, and keeps responding to my stories. Like that group photo I posted the other day at the bar, some of the guys were in it? She literally responded with ‘wow, glad you’re getting some in Spain.’ What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Sophie, you should have told me.” He rubbed his temples, upset but completely unsurprised - Brooklyn had done that same to a friend he had taken to a date party once when they were in one of their many short breakups. “I’ll talk to her, tell her to knock it off -”

“And have her try and kiss you again? No, I don’t think you need to give her any reason to be one on one with you.” She huffed, indignant. “How many days again?”

He paused to think. “Thirty? Twenty-nine?”

“Jesus Christ.” She sighed, running her hand over her face. “Any chance you want to come early?”

He looked apologetic, shaking his head. “Can’t, baby, I’m committed to this internship right up until I see you.”

“Damnit.” She flopped back onto her bed and rolled over onto her stomach to face the camera again. “Next time you’re at dinner, let me know and I’ll text you a picture of my tits or something.”

Rafe snorted. “I don’t know if that’s the best approach, but I wouldn’t be opposed to getting more nudes from you.”

“No, you’re right, she’d probably just tell you I’m slutty or something.” She rolled her eyes, only for him to frown. “You’re not slutty, baby -”

“I know, I know, whatever. What happened, seriously? Why’s she so hung up on you? I mean, I know why, look at you -” she gestured at the phone, making him laugh, “- but for real. Will you tell me?”

He nodded, taking a moment before he spoke. “She, um, cheated on me, but I didn’t find out ‘til after she broke it off. Not until the charity gala, actually. She’d say things like, ‘you’re so needy,’ then would get mad at me if I went to hang out with the boys.” Rafe paused, thinking. “She invited herself to the Bahamas, both times. My dad loved her, that should have told me enough.”

“Oh.” She murmured, frowning. “That’s fucked, Rafe, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, took me a while to snap out of it.” He half-joked, then his tone turned more sincere. “You should know, I was going to take you to the Bahamas house this spring, actually. But I didn’t want you to think I was showing off or something.”

“Rafe Cameron, showing off?” She teased, lifting her hand with the Cartier ring and raising her eyebrows. “Never.”

He immediately blushed, protesting. “That’s different!”

She grinned. “Is it?”

“It is. Totally different. I almost bought you the one with diamonds, that’d be showing off.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t.”

“Yes, I almost did.” He grinned, noticing that she wore the ring on her ring finger instead of her middle finger like he’d originally put it on her. “Sarah talked me out of it, so go complain to her if you wanted that one. She said you’d probably have my head.”

“Smart girl.” Sophie laughed.

“Do you always wear it on that finger?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

Her cheeks tinged pink and she shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but her tone took a defensive edge. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter. It’s just a finger. Why? Does it make you feel weird?”

“No. Does it make you feel weird?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Good.” She shot back, pressing her hands to her hot cheeks for a moment. “I have to go, I’m late for meeting my friends now.”

“Wait, Soph.” He smirked and she narrowed her eyes again, wary of what he was about to say. “What.”

“Love you.”

“That’s it?”

He laughed, grinning. “I’m still not opposed to you sending me pictures of your tits when I’m at dinner.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how difficult it is to take a good nude? I have to be alone, I have to contort myself in a weird position or use the self timer, then I have to edit the lighting because I have to take them at night -”

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m just kidding.”

“You absolutely were not. I love you. Go appreciate the pictures I’ve already given you.”

“You gave me three for the entire summer.” He complained, and she rolled her eyes. “That’s a lie, I left you with three and I’ve sent you a couple since then. Goodbye, Cameron, love you, you ungrateful son of a bitch.”

He grinned. “Wait, Sophie, wait.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not mad? At me?”

Sophie paused, furrowing her brow. “Do I have a reason to be mad at you? You’re already forgiven for not telling me, is there something else?”

“No, no.” He shook his head quickly, voice going quiet. “I just, um. She would have had my head for what happened. I know you’re not her, but I’m just used to that, I guess.”

She softened, wishing she could hold him. “I trust you, Rafe. I mean it. I’m not mad at you. I’m pissed off at her, but you didn’t do anything.”

“And you’d tell me if you were?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a little anxious.

Sophie laughed softly, nodding. “You’d know if I was mad at you, baby, it’s hard to hide.”

“Right. Okay.” He didn’t seem fully convinced, but nodded anyways. “I’ll let you go, then.”

“Not mad at you. Good night, my favorite boy.”

He gave her a small, shy smile. “You promise?”

“I promise. You’re always my favorite.” She returned a bigger smile. “I’ll text you when I’m home if you need to talk more.”

“No, no, I’ll be fine.” He waved her off, not wanting to seem too dependent.

She nodded, blowing him a kiss with a grin. “Night, baby. Sweet dreams.”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

#rafe x sophie #mine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #college outer banks #college obx #obx fanfic #obx #college rafe #frat rafe

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"....So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 8*

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

OHEMGEEEEE!!! A new chapter!

I appreciate the patience this week/last week guys, It's certainly been-- challenging. And it's not over yet, but I did want to get you a chapter since you all have been so understanding and lovely.

That being said I really am here just to break your heart with some good ol' angsty angst. MWAHAHAHHAAHA.

Enjoy.

I may try and put out another chapter tonight, but we will only be getting to 10 with this one I'm 90% sure so I want them to be good chapters.

Tag List

@agentcable

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

@word-scribbless

@storiesofsvu

@believinghurts

==========

“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down,” An officer told him.

“No!” William screamed. “That man kidnapped my wife--”

“She’s NOT your wife!” Rafael cut him off. “You can verify that, she’s his ex-wife,”

“How ‘bout I verify my foot up your ass, dickhead?!” Lewis screamed.

“Lovely, Lewis,” Rafael rolled his eyes with a sarcastic laugh.

“You son of a--” Lewis lunged for Rafael but an officer held him back.

“BOTH OF YOU, GET OUT,” The nurse escorted the two men to the waiting room. “Family only!”

“But she’s my--”

“EX” Rafael finished. “And I’m her--”

“BOYFRIEND,” Lewis snarled. “Not HUSBAND,”

“I’m more concerned about the you're blood covered in, Mr.--” A female officer interjected.

“Barba,” Rafael finished.

“It’s my wi--” Lewis started, but saw Rafael’s eyes glaring at him. “Y/N’s blood, my ex wife,”

“And exactly why are you covered in her blood Mr. Barba?” The officer continued to question him.

“Because I--” He began to explain how he had rescued you from that monster.

“BECAUSE HE RAPED HER!!” Lewis screamed again.

“Alright, Mr.--”

“Loomis,” William stuck out his hand. “Billy Loomis,”

“That is BULLSHIT,” Rafael snapped. “His name is William Lewis, look him up,”

“Alright, you come with me, you go with Cooper,” The woman officer instructed her partner to take Lewis the opposite direction.

“Fine with me,” Rafael grumbled as the other cop dragged Lewis away.

“Alright so why don’t you start from the beginning, Mr. Barba,” She pulled out an iPad from her back holster.

“....How far do you mean, officer?” Rafael asked as they sat down in two waiting room chairs.

“Why don’t you call me Sherrie,” She softened her tone with a small smile. Ah, so she was going to play good cop with him.

“How far do you think will help me understand this?” She continued.

“Well,” Rafael rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s complicated,”

“....How so?” Sherrie raised an eyebrow. She had that look on her face; the same one Olivia got when she didn’t believe a word a perp was saying. Great.

“Well first of all, that man is not who he says he is,” He pointed towards where Lewis had been taken. “His name is William Lewis, and he is a wanted rapist and murderer in several states, including New York,”

“Ah, New York,” Sherrie nodded. “Is that where you're from?”

“Uh, yes, New York City in fact,” Rafael clarified. Why did she say it like that? She used a tone that he should be using. That disdain, that condescending tone. That just pissed Rafael off even more.

“I see,” Sherrie nodded as she jotted down things on her iPad.

“Look just because I’m from New York and you people--”

“Us people?” Sherrie gave him a glare.

“...You all,” Rafael changed his tune. “Think ‘down’ of us New Yorkers--”

“Oh I believe it’s the other way around, Mr. Barba,” Sherrie scowled. Well, she did have a point.

“....Lewis lives there too,”

“Really?” Sherie raised an eyebrow. “Because I just searched his name in our database and Mr. LOOMIS is a non-offender, born and bred New Jersian.

“That is a load of shit!” Rafael stood up. “I am telling you, he is a psychopath. He has several identities across the god damn country, and he’s--”

“Not on trial here, Mr. Barba,” Sherrie finished.

“And I am?” Rafael scoffed.

“We’ll see,” She gave him a look.

“Por el amor de Dios....” Rafael muttered, along with a few other obscenities in spanish. “Look just call the NYPD. Talk to Sergeant Benson of the SVU Unit” Rafael instructed her.

“SVU hmm?” Sherrie raised an eyebrow as she typed.

“Yes!” Rafael cried. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I am the Assistant District Attorney of New York City! I would never, ever hurt anyone. Especially not Y/N. I love her,”

“Right,” Sherrie nodded. “Alright well I’ll call her after we’re done here, okay?”

“Sure you will,” Rafael muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“Do you really wanna start an attitude with me, Mr. Barba?”

“Rafael,” He exhaled. “My name is Rafael,” The more she used ‘Mr. Barba’ the more he felt he actually was on trial. “And I’m sorry, I just-- I’m scared,”

“For you or for her?” Sherrie questioned.

“For her!” Rafael got excited again. “Lewis raped her and tore her rectum, then went and took a shower after haphazardly bandaging her, like it was no big fucking deal!”

“And you know this, how?” She asked in a suspicious manner.

“Because she called me,” He continued. “She called me earlier and told me he had her hostage,”

“He was holding her hostage?” Sherrie continued to use a suspicious tone.

“Yes! And I can prove it!” Rafael suddenly remembered the picture Lewis had so cockily sent him.

The one of him holding a gun pressed to your back. The image would haunt him forever. He went to get his phone, but it wasn’t in his pocket. Shit, it must still be in the car. He had hastily dropped it as soon as he told you he was coming in to get you.

“Shit,” He muttered.

“Is there a problem?” Sherrie asked.

“I have a photo on my phone, but I must have left it in my car,”

“Conveniently,” She nodded.

“NO!” Rafael stomped his foot. “Look if you’ll just let me go get it--”

“Right,” Sherrie scoffed sarcastically with a laugh. “Let me just let you ‘run out to your car’,”

“You can follow me, escort me, whatever,” He huffed. “I have nothing to hide,”

“Alright then,” Sherrie followed Rafael outside the hospital doors, but his car wasn’t there.

“Shit,” He muttered. “They must have towed it because I just parked in the ambulance bay and got Y/N help,”

“Oh, mmhmm, I’m sure that must be what happened,” She rolled her eyes.

“This is insane,” Rafael half laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He felt like he was in an episode of the Twilight Zone. He was being treated like a convict while Lewis was the golden boy of Jersey. This was a nightmare.

“Can we just--” Rafael ran his hands through his hair, trying to think of something, anything that would clear his name.

“Can you just call the NYPD, please?” He begged Sherrie. “I swear to you, Olivia Benson will clear my name and tell you all about William Lewis,”

Sherrie looked at him for a long moment, debating whether to cut him some slack. On the one hand, he was covered in your blood, and had brought you in. Also, he was from New York City, so God knows how slick he was. On the other hand, he did look genuinely scared and pitiful, and if he had the balls to ask her to actually call the NYPD, maybe he was telling the truth.

“Alright Rafael, I’ll humor you,” She finally nodded, typing NYPD into Google. She got the number and began dialing it, waiting for someone to answer.

“Hi, yes this is Officer Reagan of the Jersey PD-- Is there an Olivia Benson there?” Sherrie asked as she gave Rafael a side eye. There was silence for a moment, then she began to speak.

“Hi yes, Sergeant Benson. This is-- Right. Do you know Rafael Barba?”

“Mmmhmm, well he’s here at Jersey County Hospital having brought in a woman who had clearly been assaulted, and he--” Sherrie stopped as Olivia began speaking very fast and loudly.

“Look ma’am there’s no reason to-- Yes her husband-- alright her ex husband, Billy Loomis-- Alright allegedly this ‘William Lewis’. Whoa there ma’am-- Sergeant, there’s no need to get hysterical,” Rafael chuckled to himself as he watched Sherrie get chewed out by Olivia.

“...Well yes he is here, but I really don’t feel comfortable having you take him into custody, Sergeant. This isn’t your jurisdiction, so I’m sorry but you have no claim on Billy, or William, or whoever,” Sherrie was getting fed up with Olivia’s attitude.

“Uh yes, that is so, sergeant. If you’d like to take it up with my sergeant, feel free to come down here and-- well fine! Good, we’ll be here. No I will not be letting Mr. Barba go, he’s still a-- you know what, I’m sick of this. You wanna come down here and raise a fit for your man here, go right ahead,” Sherrie hung up the phone and looked at a now smirking Rafael.

“I told you,” He smirked.

“Yeah well you’re not going anywhere until this ‘Olivia Benson’ gets here. Which I assume will be pretty soon,”

“Your assumption is spot on,” Rafael chuckled to himself. If there was one thing he could count on, Olivia would come running to his defense at the drop of a hat.

-----------------

Meanwhile

“Look I’m telling you, that man abducted my ex wife in the middle of the night and raped her,” Lewis was scrambling.

“And how do you know this, Mr. Loomis?” Officer Cooper asked.

“Because I was there,” He explained.

“And why were you at your ex-wife’s house?” Cooper asked skeptically.

“We--” William was thinking on the fly.

He was still fuming from the balls on Barba trying to rescue you, and agitated that he got the male cop who wasn’t so easily manipulated as a woman would’ve been.

“We were reconciling,” He lied.

“Reconciling?” The officer raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I told her earlier today that I had made a mistake leaving her and my family, and that I wanted to come back home,” He explained. “And then I offered to pick up our girls from school and meet her at home, while she broke it off with that bastard,”

“Broke it off?” The officer questioned him. “So they are in a relationship?”

“...Yeah,” He muttered.

“So how exactly did her boyfriend kidnap her, if she went to him willingly?”

“....He got pissed when she tried to break it off,” Lewis was spinning a thread of lies now. “He called me and told me that if he couldn’t have her, nobody could,”

“I see,” Cooper nodded, typing on his iPad

“So when she came home to me and the girls, he followed her. We didn’t know until he broke in and kidnapped Y/N,” Lewis now focused on keeping his ‘concerned husband’ act. He was pretty sure he had a good story going.

“Mmm hmm,” The officer nodded as he continued typing. He wasn’t even acknowledging him; that was making Lewis’s blood boil. He liked being in control; he hated being ignored.

“Look can I check on my wife, please?” He tried going for the sympathy card again, knowing he wasn’t getting anywhere with this guy.

“Legally she’s not your wife anymore, Mr. Loomis,” The officer finally looked up to Lewis once more. “So technically you have no legal right to see her right now, as you’re not her current family,”

“I AM HER FAMILY GOD DAMMIT!!!” Lewis screamed, losing his cool. He quickly panicked and dialed it back. “I mean, she’s always going to be my family. Her and my precious girls,”

“....Right,” The officer nodded, not amused by his little temper tantrum. He had seen guys like this before; controlling, hot tempered husbands. He had grown up with a man just like that; it was one of the reasons he became a cop.

“And where exactly are your ‘precious girls’, Mr. Loomis?” He added. Guys like these, they lost their heads when they felt cornered. Lewis probably hadn’t even remembered they existed.

“...They’re at home, asleep,” He said softly.

“Alone?” Cooper raised an eyebrow.

“We live like two blocks from here officer,” Lewis lied again, having indeed forgotten about the girls. “I didn’t want to scare them, they’re asleep in their comfy beds, totally oblivious to this nightmare,”

“And exactly how old are they?” Cooper gave him a look.

“...Old enough to be alone for a bit,” Lewis shrugged, hoping he’d take that as an answer.

“Well, at the risk of ‘worrying’ them, I think I’d better send an officer over there to check on them, don’t you think?” The officer asked in a accusatory tone.

Lewis really did want that, he was actually starting to worry about them. He actually had told Maggie that you felt sick and were in your room, and he was going out to get you medicine. But this guy was already clearly skeptical. If he told this officer where you actually lived, he was going to accuse him of child endangerment.

“...Mr. Loomis?” The officer called to him, but he was busy plotting an escape route.

Lewis glanced around the room, gauging how many people were in the vicinity. It was a bunch of pathetic patients with random injuries and illness’s waiting on a doctor, some ER nurses, a receptionist, the two cops, and him and Barba. Then he glanced at the gun in the officer’s holster, a plan formulating in his head. He wanted you all to himself, that was for sure. But you and your fucking white knight might have just outsmarted him for that to happen. Unless... the line you had said earlier about the girls being leverage. He hated the idea of exploiting the girls like that, but he was not going back to prison, and he was not losing those girls.

“Mr. Loomis!” The officer repeated in a louder, angrier tone. Lewis finally looked at him with a very sinister smile, eerily calm.

“...Ah officer, maybe you should take care of that first,” Lewis pointed to something behind him. As soon as the officer turned to see what he was talking about, Lewis yanked the gun from his holster and fired two shots into his head.

--------------

Across the room, Rafael and Officer Sherrie immediately flinched and ducked at the sound of the loud bang from the gun. People began screaming and running around in panic, most of them heading out the front doors of the hospital. Rafael’s eyes widened in horror as he realized Lewis had gotten a gun and had just murdered an officer. He turned to Officer Reagan who looked at him in shock, and a bit in remorse. She knew she had gotten the situation wrong, and now her partner had paid the ultimate price for it.

“Lewis, look just calm down--” Rafael tried to reason with Lewis, but the manic look in his eyes showed him he wasn��t going to get anywhere.

“Why don’t YOU calm down, counselor?” Lewis smirked as he raised the gun to Rafael. If there was one sure fire way to ultimately punish you for trying to run off with the do gooder, it would be getting rid of him altogether.

“No, Lewis don’t--” Rafael barely got out a plea for his life before Lewis had shot a bullet into his chest. More people screamed, and Officer Reagan rushed to help him.

Lewis took this opportune moment to run out of the hospital. He sprinted into the parking lot and picked the first car he saw to break into and hotwire, speeding out of the parking lot back to your place. He had to get the girls before cops found out where you lived. He’d figure out where to go from there.

From inside an examination room, you had started to come to as the IV bags of blood began to fill your system back up. You had barely had a chance to sit up before you heard the first shot go off. You immediately knew it was Billy, he had found you. You saw the doctor and nurses that were in the room with you slam the door shut to keep you all safe from Billy. You could see through a window into the lobby just enough to see Rafael with his hands up, before Billy put a bullet in him. You watched in horror as Rafael slumped to the ground, and a woman officer rushing to help him.

“NO!!!!!!” You screamed, trying desperately to get off the table.

The doctor and nurses held you down and slapped hands over your mouth to keep you quiet, terrified Lewis would come in there next. But to their relief he dashed out the door, and the hands were removed from your mouth. However they kept you pinned down so that you wouldn’t pull your IV’s out, inadvertently letting blood gush out all over the patient room.

You watched helplessly as nurses swarmed Rafael and rushed him off to another part of the hospital altogether.

What kind of nightmare had you woken up to?

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