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#who made life miserable for everyone else before they went to college or whatever
littledemondani · 2 years
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misery
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warnings: angst, fem!reader, post-breakup, mentions of alcohol use, implied depression, sort of a happy ending if you squint really hard, reader is a cheerleader, secret relationship
word count: 1.1k
request: "anonymous asked: maybe you could write an angst fic/blurb for eddie… with a major argument because the relationship is private but eventually the fic ends on a good note somehow. really make it whatever you want lol i’m just a sucker for any type of angst!!"
a/n: it didn't quite end up the way anon asked for, but i'm pretty happy with the overall result. i hope y'all like it <3
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they say time heals all wounds.
whoever came up with that can seriously go to fucking hell.
ever since your breakup with eddie munson, you had been absolutely miserable.
it’s not like you hadn’t seen it coming - quite the opposite, actually. and for the days, even weeks leading up to it, you tried to be oblivious. tried to tell yourself that it was all in your head and everything was fine.
eddie had slowly pulled away from you. all of the late night phone calls, sneaking him into your room after your parents went to sleep, meeting him in the woods behind hawkins high, the pet names he had specifically for you, all lessened in their frequency.
you figured that’s what happens when you keep something a secret for so long, but you had hoped that your relationship would withstand all the obstacles thrown it’s way until you both graduated high school.
that particular day, he had asked you to meet him at your spot, and stupidly, you thought that maybe things were coming around and it was just some shit he was going through at home that he didn't want you to know about.
you couldn't be more wrong.
he stood there, completely barren of any emotion as he told you he was done. that there was no way he could continue lying to himself, and to you, that he actually cared about you. you were nothing more than another notch on his belt, a conquest for him.
it felt like your world was crashing in on you, making it hard for you to breathe. you shook your head, repeating a slew of ‘no’ and ‘eddie, please’ as you grappled to process what the hell was going on.
since day one, he had made it clear this is what he wanted. that you were what he wanted most. he didn’t care about the stereotypes that seemed to dictate everything everyone did or didn’t do. he was above all of that, and looked beyond the bullshit labels at the person behind them. you were "a beacon of light in the darkness” as he once put it.
yet he stood there, unbothered, watching you fall apart in front of him without doing anything. even as you cried and begged him not to go, he still did absolutely nothing. 
“i’m sorry, y/n,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, looking everywhere else but at you. “i don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
there was so much more he could say. like the truth. that he was a two-time senior living in a trailer park, and you were the pretty cheerleader, top of the class and on your way to college to become everything you’d always wanted to be in life. he had nothing to offer you, that much was clear to him, and it killed him to do this to you, but he felt like he had no other choice.
the days that followed were a living nightmare. having to go to school like your heart hadn't been pulverized into a million pieces had become the bane of your existence. even though you put on a fake smile, it was completely obvious to everyone who knew you that there was something off.
whereas eddie seemed completely fine.
fucking asshole.
now here you are, almost two months later, alone in your room, sobbing into your pillow as the songs in the mixtape eddie made for you flow through your stereo.
flashbacks of the day he gave it to you come to mind, and you find some kind of solace in them, despite the ever present ache in your chest.
eddie knocked at your window once before opening it and hopping in. he was all smiles, completely proud of himself for the hard work he had done to make it perfect. 
“for you, madam,” he says in a goofy tone, making you giggle as you take it from him.
“what’s this?”
“only the coolest mixtape i’ve ever made for anyone,” he says, plopping down onto your bed as he kicks off his shoes. “well, the only one i’ve ever made for someone, but that's besides the point.” 
you place the cassette tape into your stereo, curious to hear what’s on it. the trooper by iron maiden comes blasting through, and you turn around to find him playing air guitar and mimicking the sounds.
“whose that?” you ask, climbing on the bed next to him.
he stops air strumming and glances at you, a feigned look of shock and offense on his face before he pretends to be shot and falls off your bed. 
“only the greatest band to ever fucking exist, iron maiden,” he says as he holds his hand to his heart. “don’t worry sweetheart, i’m gonna teach you everything you need to know, okay? i know those preppy weirdos have you brainwashed into thinking wham! is the greatest ever.”
“they are, though,” you tease, chuckling as you sit on the floor next to him. “george michael is amazing.” 
he pretends to groan like he’s in pain, shaking his head. “no! no! i don’t wanna hear it!”
you’re pulled back to reality when the phone on your bedside table rings. you glance at the clock, 11:45pm, and wonder who the fuck would be calling this late. wiping your tears, you answer the phone, only to be met with silence on the other end.
“you know it’s real fucking weird to just call people and not say anything,” you huff in annoyance, waiting just a little bit longer to see if maybe they’d say something.
nothing.
you roll your eyes, muttering a soft ‘whatever’ before rolling over to hang up.
“y/n…”
the voice on the other end makes your blood run cold, your heart racing so fast you swear it’s going to burst at the seams. you sit up on your bed, bringing your knees up to your chest and furrowing your brows slightly.
“eddie? w-what the hell?”
“i miss you,” he says, a slight slur to his words that makes you think he’s probably drunk. “i miss you so much…”
all rationale goes out the door the minute you hear those words. you should hang up on him, curse him for putting you through hell the last couple of months, for wasting your fucking time by making you think he actually gave a shit about you. but the pain in his voice, despite being under the influence, is what you cling to the most.
“i miss you, too…” you whisper, sniffling a bit as the tears begin to fall down your face uncontrollably.
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welpnotagain · 1 year
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random number generator gives me 3 words. I have 15mins. no correcting, no revision, just 15mins whatever comes to mind. the words don't need to appear in the writing and finally, I can break the rules if I want to.
the words are: entertainment, primary, superior
You cringed as you opened the door to Lily's apartment and could hear your monologue from the tv, you enjoyed your work and you even thought you were rather good at it but having to listen to it when you were already done with work, was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. Tomorrow morning you'd rewatch it anyway and take in the feedback you'd get but why did it have to be on the same day. on the same day you knew from experience you'd still have it too fresh in your mind and you'd know exactly where you didn't deliver the jokes quite like you had hoped, mess up the delivery of a joke and you might as well tell people that we sure had nice weather today huh? But then you could hear Lily's small chuckle, that particular joke wasn't even written by you, an intern, the promising kind, had written that one. And you knew you could have done it more justice but that's the thing about a daily show. you had about half a day and then you went ahead to tape it and as long as it didn't go miserably wrong that would be the take they'd take because you only have so much time. But Lili had chuckled and your heart had felt light and so it was alright. You had met her on campus, she was your sister's roommate in the dorms, she was a few years older than you and didn't take you seriously at all. You didn't think her particularly pretty at the time, her dark blond hair and chubby cheeks were cute sure but they didn't flash you. She was just your sister's roommate, one she had told you who had a tongue sharper than even yours.
Your wit had always seemed random, uncalculated, your mouth had said something before your brain had even thought of it. Often you heard it for the first time when it left your mouth just like everyone else. Lily's wit however was just a reflection of her intelligence, while you sometimes pushed too far, and hurt people with your comments that were meant as light-hearted jokes Lili would always balance on the line. She danced entire ballets around your silly unthoughtful wit while never crossing the line, she was kind and lovely and beautifully caring. She didn't put up with the insensitive comments that were meant as a joke and would put you in your place without ever seeming to blame you for your missing feingef[hl. She knew you didn't intend to be mean and if she had ever tried she could have taken your job, your life, your body, your hand.... (you had always been a bit dramatic). When you had confessed that to her one very drunken night she had laughed (it didn't sound sincere but you were very drunk that night so you weren't sure) hugged you tight and told you to grow into yourself a bit more and maybe then you'd be enough to tempt her(you had rolled your eyes. You had watched pride and prejudice that week in the theatre). Her arms around you and the smell of shampoo in had sobered you up, though you weren't quite sure what "growing into yourself" meant.
You think you had figured it out over the next few years, you learnt to hold your tongue when it was needed and made use of your wit to think of jokes that were more than jabs on the person meant in good jest. You had graduated college, but it didn't help you nearly as much as Lily's natural good-willed humour to develop your writing in the way that ended up scoring you a job at a satirical news program. While in the beginning, you felt like a cheap copy of her, over time you figured out what style you enjoyed. You ended up with a mix of sincerity and biting jokes that were meant to have teeth, they were meant to make sure politicians still knew people were keeping their eyes on them and they'd better act like it but you managed to balance it with a compassionate appeal that (you hoped) made it harder for them to simply block you out as a "someone who wanted to cancel them" (god how you hated this development).
You were grateful that Lily had rejected you at the time, she had understood you better than you think anyone had ever before at that point. You had needed time to grow into your writing, your expectations of your future and yourself. Both of you had been close ever since you started college and while she pursued grad school you already started working, figuring out what job would end up actually feeling right for you. Since you were both busy there were times you had grown distant and times were you again felt like the closest of friends. You had overcome your childish admiration of her and had grown to love her as a real person a close friend, exactly how she was. A few years later, you both are now in your thirties, and you had loved her for a few years now, Lily hadn't been in a relationship in a year. She made it so easy to fall for her, so she was never short of people shooting their shots. But her last relationship had been long, a few years, and you had thought that she might marry them.
She had shown up at your apartment, just a few minutes after you had come home, and asked if she could stay a few days, only until she had found a place she could call her own. Of course, you had let her in, you cancelled the date you had in the evening, ordered pizza and watched pride and prejudice. "We have different expectations for our future" was the reason they had broken up, they were still in love but it would only lead to resentment. You held her as she cried, she already knew it was the right decision, she just needed comfort and so you held her close as she drenched your t-shirt. It wasn't then that you realised you were in love with her. It was in the tenderness of your everyday life the two of you shared for the next two months while she was looking for a new apartment. It was in every "have a good day at work" you wished each other, in the way you shared your bed when she was crying again, in the way she'd smile at you thankfully when you had cooked her favourite dish when she had a particularly hard day.
Lily's ex had come by a few times since then and they had both cried, mourning over a relationship with so much love but an unpromising future that would lead to resentment. The two of them spent hours talking, and you made sure to give them the space and time they needed. Lily would tell you what they had talked about, they had tried to make it work, and find compromises but it was a fruitless pursuit, they were both holding on to something they knew they had already lost. "It just took some time to accept that we weren't each other's future." Lily's ex had always been a kind soul and you ached for them both. A few times you had met them at a bar to hear them out and provide a comforting hug. In contrast to Lily it took some time to their light, they were easy to overlook but once you had noticed the way they made everyone feel at ease and listened to you couldn't help but see them as the reliable rock -not stoic but calm, dependable, a seemingly neverending will to help when they could and strength, strong enough to live up to their potential- that Lily had described them as.
Lily had moved after a bit more than a month into a new apartment, you and a few friends helped her. Her ex offered to help as well when you and your sister had shown up at their flat to pick up Lily's furniture. They looked like they had been crying, they knew it was for the best that the two of them didn't meet so it wasn't difficult to turn them down. You asked them to call a friend that could distract them and they agreed. Their friend showed up and the both of them left shortly after. At the end of the day you ordered pizza for everyone, and as a group, you managed to fill a bit of the emptiness of a new flat with liveliness.
Lily didn't need to tell you, you knew her well enough, that she felt lonely in her new space. You made a point of spending the next weekends in thrift shops trying to find cheap furniture that didn't fit the clean white style lily disliked and coming by in the evenings with takeout or with a practised casualness just to find her already cooking for two. Somehow she always knew when you dropped by on impulse, a bit too desperate to see her, without enough time to think about picking up food on the way.
It had been a bit over a year since Lily had shown up at your place, and it has become quite natural for either of you to just show up at the others. You both had keys, so it happened twice that you had shown up at Lily's apartment while she had gone to yours. The first time neither of you could stop laughing about the silliness of the situation for a good couple of seconds. After the second time both of you agreed to send a text beforehand, neither of you really remembered to do it every time.
It had been a bit over a year since her last relationship had ended and you had realised you loved her. You went to her apartment after work, you think you had texted her though you weren't sure. Lily was watching your monologue and chuckled even if you messed up the timing a bit. You open the door to the living room, she is laying on her couch, her new kitten sleeping on the backrest. Her eyes lock onto you, standing in the doorway, and she smiles at you radiantly. "I love you," you want to say, you're pretty sure she loves you too. "Welcome home, how was work?" this was how you had fallen deeper for her and you are still falling. She seemed to leave you falling endlessly. You smile back at her, "Good," you say as you squeeze yourself onto the couch, your monologue was over. She turns off the tv and makes a bit more space for you. "I love you." you say as she is laying her legs over yours, you hadn't mean to just spill it out. She didn't freeze, unlike you expected, instead, she places a hand on your cheek and pulls you down to her face. "I know," she says as she gives you a quick kiss, "I love you too." She kisses you again and your arms sling around her waist and you pull her up on your lap. "You could have said it at a more romantic time." she lamented later, "I just couldn't hold it in anymore" you answered honestly, she groaned but gave you another quick peck.
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chicago-geniza · 2 years
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gotta figure how to articulate this better when i am less brain-clouded but intergenerational friendships & mentorships are lifesaving for ~*~queer kids in mukhosransk/buttfuck-level rural areas, like, places that don’t have paved roads or high-speed internet or public transportation or much in the way of Outside besides cow pastures, maple farms, & the odd general store. they’re necessary, they keep you from drowning yourself in otter creek, & this trend of casting suspicion on any Age Gaps re: interpersonal relationships of any kind like they MUST be motivated be pedophilia on the older party’s end makes me so insane i lose speech 
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woniepop · 3 years
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feel special ༉‧₊˚✧
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➜ the three times you didn’t want to be Karl’s best friend any more and the one time you weren’t
Pairing: Karl Jacob’s x Fem!Reader
Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au
Warnings: Mentions of bullying, cursing
Word Count: 2.0k words
a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for a mcyt streamer, but unfortunately I will not be writing works for more streamers anytime soon. This is for my lovely friend basil Ly and losingvienna’s follower event, which you should definitely check out of you are in to mcyt streamers!!
I highly recommend checking @basilly and @losingvienna out if you haven’t already!!
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Ever since you met Karl, you’ve hated everything about him. He was sweet, he was caring, he was everything you’ve ever wanted in anyone. From the moment he stepped foot in your kindergarten your life had become a living hell. He was great! You on the other hand, had never felt more miserable in your life. It had never occurred to you that being different was a bad thing, but apparently, to your whole kindergarten class of 26 kids, it was terrible. But, somehow, amidst the screaming kids and the poorly colored art projects, Karl only saw you.
Your fellow kindergarten classmates stared at you, perhaps a bit too judgingly, as you sat down in your seat. Feeling super excited to come to school today, your grandma has recently gotten you your very own pink sundress, equipped with a pink satin ribbon to tie a cute little bow in the back. You wanted your classmates to like you, so you had to be the prettiest you could ever be. 
“Why are you wearing a dress to school? Do you think you’re a princess?” one of the children say, rather, shout across the room. And with that, the whole class starts laughing, except you. 
“What? Are you trying to impress someone?”
“OOO Y/N HAS A CRUSH!”
“I bet it’s Karl”
“Of course it is. She just wants to daaaaaaate him, doesn’t she?”
With tears welling up in your eyes and boogers dripping down your nose, you quickly stand up just to take the hall pass and run to the nearest bathroom. It was humiliating, feeling like you had tried so hard to make friends just to get laughed at. It felt terrible. 
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You were NOT excited for your first day of high school. Why would you be? It was just another year of “light hearted” jokes about you and how you were “so different.” Settling with a seat in the back, you tilt your head down only for the teacher to walk in right after. 
“Good morning, students! Welcome to your first day of Freshman Year! I’m sure you’re all very excited for these next four years, but before that why don’t we all introduce ourselves to each other!” The teacher says, in a high pitch, peppy voice. You had stopped listening to her after that. You already knew what was going to happen, you were going to be paired up with some immature male football player looking for a tall, hot, and blonde cheerleader girlfriend, then he was going to say something stupid like, “Girls like you aren’t really my type.” No shit you weren’t his type. It happened every year. Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you force your head up, preparing yourself for the dreadful introduction. 
“Hi! I believe we’re partners for the All About Me project. May I sit here?” he says, pointing to the chair beside you. He, as in Karl Jacobs. The Karl Jacobs. The man, the myth, the legend, the boy that filled your entire life with “She just wants to date Karl. She’s such an attention whore.” With that, your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you ever this mad about anything in your life. You didn’t want to know anything about him, let alone do a whole project learning about him. 
“Yeah, you can sit there.” You answer through clenched teeth. 
“Thanks! I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to finish this within the period considering there are like 30 questions, so did you want to work on this in the library after school?” he asks.
“Sure.” You say promptly, not even bothering to make eye contact with him. 
“I believe we went to the same elementary school, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you, so I’m glad we got to be partners for this project. I’m excited to get to know you.” He says, a glint of hope in his eyes. You hated it. Was he actually being nice? To you? 
The rest of the period would have been answering all the questions on the list, but instead you guys had been side tracked, going off topic and talking about anything and everything. Putting aside your hatred for the boy, Karl seemed like a genuinely nice person. You had learned he loved gaming, which he was surprised you had a knack for as well. 
“Well, Y/n, I’m sorry we couldn’t get a lot done this period. But, I’ll see you at the library later, and maybe we can even try out that new game you talked about tonight.” He says, standing up out of his chair and leaving the classroom. Maybe today wouldn’t be too bad after all.
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ONE “Move!” you say, playfully shoving Karl off of you. It was the summer before your senior year, and you would have never guessed that you, Y/n L/n, would be spending your whole high school career with the boy you loathed most, Karl Jacobs. If there was ever anything you'd ever looked forward to, it was spending every Friday night with Karl Jacobs. That fateful day at the library was the start of the best tradition ever known to man. 
“But we’re watching a movie!” Karl exclaims. 
“So? You don’t need to watch it while squishing me half to death.”
“What do you mean? Have you ever heard of CUDDLING?” 
“Cuddling has never consisted of MURDER.” 
It was always like this. Every Friday night Karl would come to your house, your mom would gush at how handsome he was while she set a plate down of whatever food he wanted, and him telling her that she was the best cook ever. This is what you’ve always wanted, right? You had a best friend, who accepted you as you were, and you him. Despite always having heartwarming and laughter filled moments with your best friend, your heart hurt. A lot. Maybe the moment was just too heartwarming, or maybe this was the universe telling you that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. 
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TWO “Hey, Karl!” she says. Ah, yes. Her. Karl’s childhood crush since what? Fourth grade? 
“Oh, um, Hi!” He replies. There it was. That dreadful pain in your chest that only grew bigger as she sat down right next to him, disregarding the fact that you were sitting right there. The way she twirled her long blonde hair, the way she leaned over to show all of her cleavage, the way she wore skirts so short you could almost see her underwear, and the way it made your blood boil and your heart hurt until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wanted to walk away so bad, but as Karl’s best friend you should support him in his romantic interests, even if you didn’t like them. 
“So… I’m sure you’ve heard already. I broke up with my boyfriend.” she says, tracing her finger up and down his arm, making him noticeably very nervous.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” You hear him say. Of course he was always here. He was there for everyone, and he would never try to exclude anyone from his kindness. 
“I broke up with him because of you!”
“W-what”
“I want to be with you, silly!” she says. And with that, you felt your whole world go black and white. Did you hear her correctly? She wanted to be with him?
“I- I’m sorry, I can’t be with you.” 
“WHAT?!? BUT I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND JUST TO BE WITH YOU!”
“Well I’m sorry, but I love someone else. You should’ve consulted me before you threw away your relationship.”
Did you hear HIM correctly? He loves someone? You couldn’t take it anymore and excused yourself. Yet again, you ran to the bathroom feeling the same pain in your chest only 10 times worse. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore. Not like this.
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THREE “I can’t believe you’re moving to California, Y/n” Karl says as he pushes his hair back, sighing in disbelief. “You’re really going to leave me?” He continues, tears welling up in his eyes as he turns to look at you with his signature puppy eyes. 
“I have to! It’s always been my dream to go to college there!” You reply, feeling guilty for leaving behind everything for your dream. 
“But I’ll miss you!” he says, fully knowing facetime exists, and you would always visit him during breaks. 
“I’ll miss you too! But, I need to do this. Can you stay strong? For me?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. You had gone on one of your late night drives again, parking in an empty parking lot as you have deep late night conversations. Today’s topic happened to be college, and while it had been always known you were moving across the country after high school, the day was coming closer and it all felt too real.
 As Karl leans his face into your hand, he lets out a yawn. “I guess it’s time to go back then.” you say.
“No, I don’t want to. I have to spend every second with you until you leave.” he whines. You wanted to as well, but then, there it was. The stinging in the back of your heart. You were tired of it. You hated feeling this way. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore.
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THE END The warm summer air blew past you as you and Karl sit atop your roof, staring into the distance in the comfortable silence that was there from the moment Karl got to your house. Neither of you had spoken a word but neither of you cared. You just wanted to be with him. What would’ve made the night perfect was if you weren’t getting on the plane the very next morning, moving across the country. 
Building up as much courage as you could, you said the three words you’ve been wanting to say ever since you had become friends. You were leaving, but before that you wanted more than anything else to let him know this. “I love you.” You say, causing his eyes to go wide. You… loved him? That was impossible. 
“Yeah, I love you too.” He says casually. 
“No. I love you more than in a friendly way.” You reply.
“Really? Why?” He asks in disbelief.
“I don’t know. Maybe it was because you were my first friend, but it’s definitely because you’re you. I’ve been bullied almost my whole life, and you know that. But, no matter how the world brings me down, and even when hurtful words stab me, I can smile again. Because you’re there.” You say, tears rolling down your face. You pause, before continuing on about how much he means to you. “I mean, my whole life, one moment I feel like I’m nothing at all. Like no one would notice if I were gone. But then you came! And I was so happy. Or maybe it’s cause you make me feel loved. But when I’m with you, I feel so special.” 
And with that, Karl makes no hesitation in cupping your cheeks, silently wiping away your tears. In that moment, he decides that he doesn't want to be your friend anymore either. Leaning in, he whispers, “I love you too.” before he crashes his lips onto yours.
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youryanderedaddy · 3 years
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Love Fuel
Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.
Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking
this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit. 
Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience. 
Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were  calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.
But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.
You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it. 
It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.
“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a  half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.
The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others. 
***
That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism. 
Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve. 
***
The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.
It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.
 ***
You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 
He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.
“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place. 
He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire. 
“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.
“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”
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starryevermore · 3 years
Text
to be a simp ✧ colby brock
pairing: college!colby brock x fem!reader
request: What about college colby in his frat and he acts all tough emo boy but his brothers catch him out with the reader being the ultimate simp and they tease him for it and he’s like ok and??
summary: colby’s a simp for you, but no one knows. until they do.
word count: 1,054
warnings?: talks about fraternities, some mention of sororities, mention of alcohol, colby’s a simp
note: if you want to request I write anything, you can do so: here.
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Colby Brock liked to think he lived two lives. There was the life that was known by his frat brothers, by the campus community as a whole, by the professors, by the tutors, by the staff. The one where he had his walls built up, but professed what his brothers (lovingly?) referred to as “balcony tweets”—whatever the fuck that meant. He was the emo heartbreaker, who they were all sure had a long list of “conquests” (gross) and could get any girl he wanted. But then there was the other life, the life that only two people in the whole world got to see. His mother and, well, you. 
Yeah, 😍💖🤩💗🥰 you 🥰💗🤩💖😍, if he wanted to be extra cringe about it. 
The woman who he had affectionately put in his contacts as “The One Person I’ll Ever Need”. The woman who got to see him cry as you watched soldiers coming home compilations. The woman who got to hear the aforementioned “balcony tweets” before his brothers could. The woman who made him feel happy, the kind of happiness he didn’t get to experience often. (Before you, he only ever felt that happiness when he joined his fraternity and when he became friends with Sam. Now? You make him that kind of happy every fucking day just by thinking of you.) 
He didn’t feel like he had to be someone else around you. He could just be the soft teddy bear he is on the inside but tried so hard to shield from the world cause goddammit the world sucks. It shits on anything good and happy because everyone needs to be fucking miserable so they be a cog in the capitalist machine and—fuck! 
But you took that all away with your pretty little smile. The way you curled yourself around him when cuddling. The way you played with his hair. The way you always asked before you could kiss him, always with a “pretty please? with a cherry on top?”. The way you let him be the little spoon sometimes because why the hell can’t a grown man be cuddled too? 
Yeah. Yeah, you were the only person he’ll ever need. 
The one downside was that his brothers didn’t know about you. Which, admittedly, was his own fault. When the two of you first started dating, he wanted it to just be between the two of you for a little bit. Not have the pressures of others placed on your budding relationship. And you understood, agreeing that telling people too quickly can result in a good thing ending before it can really begin. 
And then when you went public? Well...He just didn’t his brothers. He knew how they were. He knew their incessant teasing would get to him. Fuck, it bugged him when they teased Sam and Kat, or Jake and Tara, or Reggie and Cassie. And they all took it in stride, teasing back, but...Well, Colby didn’t want you to be teased. You were his fucking queen, and you deserved to be treated with respect. 
So, yeah, you never met his brothers. Which you were slightly hurt by, given how they were such a huge part of Colby’s life, and so were you, and why wouldn’t you want the two biggest parts of your life together?
But Colby liked the separation. He liked that he could be soft with you. But the moment he introduces you to his brothers, he knew he would be on edge. And he shouldn’t be!! He knows he shouldn’t be!! Because holy fuck you’re the picture of perfection and any man would be lucky to have you!! But he just couldn’t get out of his own head sometimes. 
Still, he made an effort to treat you extra special to make up for his insecurities. You shouldn’t feel bad about yourself because he couldn’t get out of his stupid fucking head! And that’s why tonight, on your sixth month anniversary, Colby was taking you...bowling.
Okay. Okay. 
Not that big of a thing.
But, that’s what your first date was. And Colby wanted to capture the feeling he had on that night for the rest of his fucking life. 
So, he tied up his bowling shoes, indulged in the overpriced stale nachos, and laughed as you pretended you didn’t know how to bowl so he would have to teach you. And, it was as you laughed, your head falling back on his shoulder, as he “taught” you how to throw the ball that he heard it.
The stupid fucking obnoxious laughter of his brothers.
God, could they be anymore stereotypical?? 
He grit his teeth as you released the ball, cheering as you knocked down all the pins. You spun around, hugging Colby tightly, and planting a soft kiss on his lips. And he nearly forgot who’d just walked in when—
“Bro, what the fuck?” the ever-annoying voice of golden-retriever-in-human-form, Chad, said. “You a simp or something?” 
If this were a cartoon or a cheap direct-to-DVD movie, Colby was sure there’d be smoke coming from his ears. He turned, seeing a small group of his brothers in the lane beside the two of you.
“Yeah, what about it, Chad?” Colby grumbled, his grip on your waist tightening. 
God, why did they have to ruin such a good night? 
“Nothing, bro,” Chad carried on. “I just didn’t take you to be simp!”
And then—
You laughed.
You laughed?
What the fuck? 
“Wait, wait, hold up—are you the one who can’t hold his liquor?” you said, trying to stop laughing. (And Colby knew the exact story you were talking about—Chad, trying to impress a sorority girl, tried to chug a bottle of beer, but immediately threw up as soon as he began.)
Chad’s face burned red as the rest of the brothers whooped and hollered. “Oh, what, you think you can beat me?” 
“Oh, I know I can. Just name the time and place,” you smirked. 
And Colby knew then that he really didn’t have anything to worry about, after all. Because, while he couldn’t be bothered to use witty comebacks like Sam or Jake or Reggie, he knew you’d always have his back.
And for that, he was grateful.
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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years
Text
Your place Part 2
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)
Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, degradation, dubcon.
Words: 1776.
Summary: You suffer in the arms of America’s golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.
Part 1
P.S. Some more smut, finally! All characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you’ll enjoy!
______________
"Are you going to come on Saturday?"
Steve moved his hand down your naked belly, watching you laying close to him on your bed and breathing softly. You glanced back at him, his handsome features illuminated by the dim light coming from the lamp on your nightstand.
"Where to?" You asked as he covered the back of your hand with his palm twice bigger than yours.
"The field house. We have a game."
He traced your knuckles with his fingertips and you thought how odd Steve was. Who could have thought the school's biggest bully was such a cuddle-bug after sex? It wasn't bad, though. You actually liked this side of him.
"Sure."
You weren't interested much in basketball or any other sports, but it was easier to come rather then fight Steve again. He was stubborn like a mule. Besides, a part of you felt like you belong there - many of your classmates were coming to see almost every game.
Why did Steve care whether you were there or not? Surely, he had already been showing you off in front of everyone as much as he could as if you were his trophy - now you sat close to him in class and then in cafeteria during lunch time; he was dragging you with him after classes along with his stupid friends. The whole school knew the nature of your relationship, and the first weeks it was making you bitter and hateful. Steve Rogers head fucking forced himself on you, yet instead of sympathy all you got was an enormous amount of jealousy. You were still receiving hate mailes dropped into your locker. The girls kept whispering curses behind your back as you walked down the corridors with Steve and his pack of wolves. He was able to make everyone silent, though. Now even his friends had no right to bully you like before. He reserved it purely for himself.
"Did you buy yourself a dress?"
"What dress?" You blinked in confusion. "Do I need a dress on Saturday?"
Steve smiled at you and leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your lips.
"No, kitten, I'm talking about the prom."
You rolled your eyes at his words. Of course, Steve Rogers needed to show off everywhere he possibly could - he definitely hoped to become prom king. You, on the contrary, didn't care much. In fact, you didn't want to come there at all. You hardly had any friends at school, and coming to watch Steve flashing his smile and basking in the rays of glory would only make you more irritated with him.
"No, I didn't."
"Then we could go together. I know one nice place."
"Where? 5th Avenue again?"
You smirked, watching the guy frown. Last time you went shopping together was a nightmare for you. You ended up with several bags of expensive lingerie Steve paid for, and you were disgusted at yourself for giving in to him. True, his family was twice wealtier than yours, but it didn't mean you wanted anything from him. Except for leaving you alone, that is.
"And what of it?" Rogers asked you sharply, rising above you. "If I want to buy you a dress, I will."
You sighed, turning your head to Steve and pulling your body closer against his. You learned to enjoy this intimacy with time as he taught you what making love to each other meant. You were pleasantly surprised at his efforts to make you feel good.
"Steve, please. I don't want to think of it now. It's... ruining the mood."
He purred as you caressed his blonde hair and snuggled closer to you, dropping little kisses to your face and touching your cheek affectionately. Steve loved being tender. You believed he had a real physical need to touch you one way or another, often without any sexual subtext at all. It was almost as bad as his need to bully you verbally, especially when he was aroused. You were still learning how to cope with that.
If only he didn't make those photos of you and him in the locker room that time. It was the only reason you obeyed him three months ago when he declared he wanted to keep you close. You didn't know if Steve had stored those pictures somewhere, but you weren't worried about them anymore. His obvious obsession with you would keep him from showing photos of you naked with his cock buried inside your wet cunt to the hilt. You could walk away now, yet everything wasn't as easy as before. Steve made sure to gain trust of your parents, pretending to be the perfect caring boyfriend to you and just a very good guy to everyone else. He also made you meet his parents who turned out to be surprisingly nice, nothing like their son. Steve's mother Sarah took an immediate liking to you and often sent you a huge piece of her famous raspberry pie. It was a highlight of your day when Steve handed it to you during lunch. If you broke up with him now, you were sure he'd make up some story where you were the one to blame, and it would make your life even more miserable.
"Why are we doing this, Steve?" You asked him quietly as he played with a lock of your shiny hair. When be looked back at you, you realized he knew what you were talking about.
"What do you mean?" He grunted in return.
"You know this can't last forever." You said, your voice tired. "There are only a few months left before the graduation."
You were still stroking his hair as he bit down on his plump lower lip, his eyes not leaving your face as he stared down at you from above. There was something unsettling in his gaze, something dark, even scary, but you refused to be afraid of his temper tantrums.
"We're applying to different colleges, and they're not close to each other. How do you think we can keep... this going?"
Steve struggled for words, and you saw he was getting frustrated. It was odd - he liked to use aggression as his shield, rarely showing his vulnerable side to anyone and barking off whatever accusation you threw at him. Yet here you were, looking at the guy who couldn't utter a word to answer a simple question.
Was it despair you saw on his pretty face?
"You can choose the same place, too."
"Are you joking? My family would have so sell our house to pay for my studies then." You let out a sigh.
"You can apply for a grant. With your grades it's not impossible."
"Steve, let's be realistic. You wanna go to Columbia University. Do you have any idea how many people are applying for a grant to study there?" You said and, seeing him getting more agitated, wrapped your hands around his muscular shoulders, reaching out to kiss him again.
He deepened the kiss immediately, swirling his tongue around yours and then licking the insides of your mouth when you mewled softly beneath him. The soft vibration against his lips made Steve shivered from pleasure. He spent a bit more time rolling the tip of his tongue all the way around yours and finally released you, dropping a kiss to your chin.
"If you can't make it, I'm going to apply to the same place as you." He whispered, and you felt his cock gradually getting harder. "I'm sure they'll be happy to take me."
"Steve, you're mad." You shaked your head. "What are your parents going to say? They want the best for y-"
"I don't care what they want, it's up to me to decide." The guy growled and bit your lower lip gently, lowering himself on top of you again. "You're my girl, and my girl is going with me. I still have those photos in case you forgot."
"Ah!"
You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers touched your overstimulated clit, rubbing it skillfully as you squirmed. Your mouth fell agape as you were left gasping for air, trapped under Steve's athletic figure. Moaning at his touch, you looked at him, feverish, getting aroused again, your hands caressing his back as he smiled at you. He loved when you were a blushing mess beneath him, crying out his name as you were orgasming. No one else got to see you like this.
"I know you were a good girl today, but I want some more. You can handle it, can't you?" The guy cooed in your ear. "Come on, kitten. Show me how you mewl with my cock inside you. You're gonna mewl for me, right? Do it. Now."
You did as he said when his fingers were slowely fucking your sloppy cunt, your core aching for his dick almost painfully. Mewling softly, you kissed him again, and Steve slammed into you, muffling your high-pitched cry with his mouth  as he started rocking his hips. It felt so good, so fucking good. A wail of pleasure ripped from your throat, and Steve grinned at you.
"You're such a good little kitten, Y/N. I think next time we won't go to a restaurant, I'm just gonna give you a cat bowl full of my cum. You're gonna lick it clean, yeah? You're gonna do that for me, dear?"
"Yes, yesss, Steve." You whined as you felt your pussy kissing the base of his cock with a lewd sound. Panting and moving with Steve, you already felt one more orgasm building up, your mouth open and drooling. "I'm a good kitten, I'm a good kitten... pleaseplease Steeeeve..."
He groaned at your words, speeding up gradually and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head: he was rubbing against your g-spot to make your pussy milk his balls dry. Of, he fucking loved seeing that stupid expression on your face when you came, completely helpless, dependent on him to give you pleasure no one else could.
Steve was the one and only who could make you like this. Who the hell cared what his friends or parents said if he could hear you moaning his name beneath him whenever he liked? You were becoming more and more accepting, clinging to him when others were to mock you in public, spreading your legs for him when he cornered you in your or his own room. You grew to enjoy obeying him like a good girl you were, and Steve was going to keep you, finally, after all those long years of waiting.
He would make sure you never left his sight again.
___________
Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@lovelydarkdaydream
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1994sunflower · 3 years
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Are you still doing requests for Michael? I would really like to see a “when michael first meets your parents” thing ❤️
you literally don't understand how much I loved making this. thank you for the request. I hope you like it!  
the first meeting was definitely explosive buut I think as the relationship progresses, the parents start to get more used to it (even if they still don’t like it) so it isnt ever as tense and volatile as the first. we also get to see protective!yn here which I really liked exploring. 
in which michael meets your parents
You were constantly going back and forth from cleaning and straightening your living room to staring at yourself in the mirror, fixing your makeup and trying not to convince yourself to change outfits completely.
It wasn’t that your parents were judgmental. Just extremely traditional and if you didn’t have everything looking pristine and perfect, a comment was sure to leave one of their mouths. And with this reunion with your parents being so different from past ones, you couldn’t afford for anything else to take attention away.
But mostly you were a nervous sort of excited and maybe thats why you were jumping around, constantly in motion. You hadn’t seen your parents for the better half of year and to say you missed them was an understatement. You grew up pampered with love and their constant belief in you and whatever you dreamed of achieving. Even if at times they felt too strict and expecting perfection. But still, it was hard to even leave home for college because of how close you were with them. That didn’t mean you didn’t constantly call to check in or go over for holidays. But even that wasn’t enough. Each year you organized a day when they would come over to your apartment and you would eat out or eat in and have a family day. It was one of your favorite days because it was one of the only times you weren’t stressed because of school and you felt so absolutely surrounded by love and the people closest to you. Except for nearly 2 years now, your moment with the people closest to you was missing someone. 
They definitely knew about Michael. Ever since you started dating, you told them all about him and how much he meant to you. But you hadn’t wanted to introduce him right away, afraid that it was too soon or afraid that you weren’t completely in a serious relationship just yet. And lucky for you Michael didn’t seem all that interested either. But Michael had become such an integral part in your life, someone you could see yourself being with forever. Someone you didn’t want to part with. So you knew it was time. And you think your heart might erupt at having all your loved ones together at last. You couldn’t hold back the little excited squeal that escaped you when you called to let your parents know about the addition to your family day.
You were staring at your spotless white living room then, going over everything in your mind to make sure you hadn’t let something slip your mind. Yes, you were excited but you were also so nervous. You usually were when it came time for your parents to visit but this time was so much worse as it felt that this unique visit actually had something riding on it. You felt tense despite yourself. Your fingers played with the fabric of your knitted sweater with the white collar peaking up under it. Maybe you had time to change into something your conventional parents might like even better.
But you felt arms wrap around your waist before you could dwell on that thought for too long. A surprised gasp left you but you could recognize Michael’s strong presence anywhere. You were so in your head, you hadn’t even heard him unlock your apartment door with his key. You relaxed in his arms, leaning back against his chest. 
“Thank you for being on time.” You breathed out. You asked him to be there before your ever punctual parents were scheduled to arrive. And you hoped your serious tone was enough to let him know just how important it was to you.
He hummed in response and finally you turned to get a look at him. 
It might’ve been the first time you’d seen him with long sleeves. The shirt covered up his arms and fit respectfully around his chest. But it was impossible to even try to hide the tattoos covering the expanse of his neck and his hands and fingers. And he still had the familiar set of chains draped on his jeans. You weren’t ashamed of him and you would never force him to hide and transform into something he was not to appease your parents. So you never mentioned what he should or shouldn’t wear, how he should or shouldn’t act. You wanted him to be himself, the person you loved so much. Even if it wasn’t what your parents would want, expect or even accept. But still, you couldn’t help but swoon at this subtle way of him showing you that he cared enough to try - at least a little, even if it was only because you cared about your parents.
Because sure you told them about him but maybe the way you saw and described him wasn’t exactly how he was to everyone else. To you, he was sweet, caring, gentle, protective, loving with a hard exterior. But even if they didn’t like him, which you knew they likely wouldn’t at first (ever critical and frankly, just shy of snobby) with how much Michael’s image clashed with the one they were trying to maintain and the same one they wanted for you, you were determined to get them to warm up to him eventually. Because you didn’t know how you could handle it if they didn’t like him at all.
Michael, for his part, was much more relaxed on that front than you were. Because, he didn’t have to wonder or stress about being liked by your parents. Ever since you brought up him meeting them, he already knew they wouldn’t like him. And he wasn’t particularly worried about trying to change their minds. The only opinion that mattered in his mind was yours and you liked him just fine. He could see their reactions already, the horror plastered on their faces when they saw him beside their daughter. They might have seemed willing and excited when you first told them he was invited but that was because they had a false image of him in their heads by how you described him. He almost wanted to skip it because he already knew the outcome, one that would only serve to make you upset and by default then, make him angry. But he knew how important family was to you, how close you were with yours and he couldn’t deny you. When he saw how you smiled and giggled with excitement, he didn’t have the heart to ruin that. But even Ashton had seem privy to what would happen, his smile then telling him not so subtly You’re so screwed.
And maybe that was also the reason he consciously decided to wear something that would hide his tattoos more than before. He knew they still wouldn’t like him but it would be better for them to not absolutely detest him - at least not straight off the bat. He didn’t care if they liked him as your boyfriend but he did care if their hatred was so bad that they tried to pull you away from him because if how obvious it would be that he didn’t deserve you. Not that he would ever accept that even if they tried. Maybe that’s why he felt a little more antsy than he ever expected to feel. He wasn’t nervous to meet them, he was unsure of what meeting them could end up meaning for his relationship.
He had to be at least a little better than he was usually with others. It also didn’t help that he never had to be in the position of meeting a girl’s parents before - especially one that was so incredibly different from him already that her parents, her strict, professional parents would probably blow up to see the type of man their daughter took with her chosen partner, the kind that didn’t seem like would amount to much - which was ill-suited for you who everyone knew would achieve her wildest dreams. For the first time in a long time he couldn’t help but think just how different your paths in life were before they converged and how much he wished, at least for tonight, that he was just a little less inconspicuous, in all fronts (height and body art) so that just the sight of him wouldn’t be an omen for your parents of how badly he was suited for you, how much he would destroy you and their dreams of your future.
It had to be a testament of his love that he hadn’t tried to back out of this already.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and went on your tip toes to try to look him more at eye level - still miserably too short but trying all the same. “I know I already told you but I made food for all of us instead of going out so it’d be more of a personal thing. And please don’t mention anything about me living with you, okay? They-”
“They still think you’re a virgin like a good little girl.” His smile was anything but sweet and you slapped his arm playfully at his words. Oh, another thing they would hate him for. Another way he ruined their precious daughter.
“Michael. This is serious.” It wasn’t what you were going to say. But you didn’t deny his words were true, either.
You didn’t technically move in together. But you spent most of your time with Michael and slept at his house more often than you did in your own apartment. For Michael, it was weird not being there right then with you, even weirder if you were here instead of his house. In your parents minds however, you lived and slept in your apartment 24/7 and this would be the first time Michael was ever in there for an extended period of time. And if they ever found out the truth, they would probably drag you back to live with them and away from Michael tooth and nail. Same goes for if they ever had a clue that he even had a key to your apartment, allowing him access whenever he wanted and for whatever purposes. As far as they were aware, you were still the shy girl who had barely even had her first kiss yet let alone have experienced all you had with Michael. If they even had a clue, they would think Michael was an even a worse influence than his appearance would already lead them to believe; they may even believe he was a devil. 
You took his face in your hands, “One last thing. They may seem a little…snobby but whatever they may think or say at first doesn’t matter. I know they’ll end up loving you just as much as I do.”
Michael didn’t have to respond. You made a small jump to kiss his lips and he caught you in the air easily, holding you up to him so you could kiss more easily. He hadn’t commented on your very conservative outfit, your usual choices of skirts and light dresses (his favorites, the ones that always had such easy access) were done away with and instead a sweater that hid your body and jeans that stood between him and being able to feel your core against him whenever you wrapped your legs around him were in its place. Even without the day starting yet, he already decided the change in wardrobe your parents inspired in you was one of his least favorite part of the day.
Maybe he would end up disliking them just as much as they did him.
You yelped when you heard the knocking at your door and Michael groaned at having to separate from your addicting lips and even more when you wiggled in his arms to be set down again. You scrambled quickly to the mirror, fixing whatever lipstick he had smudged and he had the decency to at least wipe at his own lips to get rid of any color.
Off to a rough start. The last thing you needed was for your parents’ first impression of Michael to be with your lipstick still smeared on his lips. 
You took his big hand in yours, loving the way his fingers immediately entwined in yours, as you made your way to the door, dragging him along. His chains rattled as he followed you. You opened the door with a big happy smile on your face and he was almost sad to know that eventually that smile would be gone. His gaze was on you, almost wishing that he would be wrong about their reactions towards him because he wanted nothing else but to keep you the happiest person in the world, even if he knew the way to do that (to have your parents like him like you wanted them to) was unlikely. 
“Mom, dad!” You jumped excitedly. You hadn’t seen them in nearly a year and at the sight of them, standing side by side at your doorway, dressed as impeccably as they always did and wearing their parental, loving smiles, it suddenly hit you how much you missed them. You could almost cry.
But you didn’t let go of Michael’s hand. And finally, Michael’s gaze shifted from you to the two people he could thank for your marvelous existence. They were everything he imagined they would look like. Just as prim and proper as their daughter, or at least as you were before he came along.
Your hands squeezed Michael’s and he noticed you were shaking a little. He resisted the urged to collect you in his arms to calm you down. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement. 
“This is Michael, my boyfriend. Michael, these are my parents.” You looked between them expectantly, your parents only having moved from outside to through the doorframe, and Michael realized you were expecting a warm welcome from them at his introduction. 
But both of you watched as your mother’s eyes slipped to your entwined hands, no doubt eyeing the tattoos running up and down Michael’s hand and fingers that basically completely enveloped your small one. To her credit, her grin was still intact. Faking it until she made it.
Your father, was much less of an actor. He stared up at Michael. Your father wasn’t a short man, at least compared to his own wife and his daughter. But very little could measure up to Michael in height. Maybe that had something to do with the way your father’s eyes constantly flickered between the top of your head and to Michael’s eyes, almost bristling at the difference. It was one thing to have a taller boyfriend but it was quite another to have someone as big as Michael, shoulders wide and tall, that seemed to rise dauntingly at your side. It almost felt, to your father, as if you were being taken advantaged of, ravaged by what could be the embodiment of everything he had tried to protect you from.
You watched, your smile slowly fading but still holding on, as their eyes slipped to Michael’s neck. To where his tattoos still were on full display, with an expression of distress. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if Michael had chosen to wear a short sleeve. You just hoped they would never have occasion to see him shirtless. You made a note to self to never have a family pool day.
The silence was dreadful. It only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like a lifetime. Especially when you hoped they would have greeted Michael with warmth and even if it had to be fake, excitement. Okay, maybe it would take a little more convincing for them to like him than you thought. You thought this could be a possibility, that they wouldn’t like him at the start, but you convinced yourself it wouldn’t happen. Convinced that they would see how much you liked him, enough to introduce him to them, enough to trust him so completely. 
Michael didn’t stray his eyes from your parents. He wasn’t trying to be challenging or mocking, even if that was usually exactly what he tended to be. But their reactions were exactly what he expected them to be. The looks of uncertainty, as if this was just a big joke they were waiting to be clued in on. They looked at him as if he was the bad guy on the wrong path that had somehow ensnared their precious daughter. He felt every bit as scrutinized as they obviously were scrutinizing him, they didn’t try to hide it. They saw the way they eyed his tattoos, his chains, his size with disapproval and judgement. If he actually cared about their opinions he might be hurt. But it was almost funny. They didn’t even see half of all they could judge him for. Part of him wondered just what you told them about him to make them not expect what he actually turned out to be.
They stood so still, he wasn’t sure if their minds literally malfunctioned or not. But as he felt you pull yourself closer to his side, almost as if trying to protect him, uselessly attempt to shield him from their eyes, he finally glanced down at you while squeezing your hand for comfort. He didn’t mind the silent criticism and immediate rejection. But he saw your eyes swirl with uncertainty and worry. You hadn’t expected this, that much was clear and it was hurting you. You wanted them to meet but you hadn’t wanted to put Michael in a situation where he would feel unwelcome or judged. Michael loved your hopefulness, even if it was fruitless from the start. The only thing making you feel better was that he didn’t seem really bothered.
“Nice to meet you.” His voice was curt but not cold, as polite as he could manage to force himself to be. For your sake, he’d make the first move.
And it was as if your parents sprung back to life. As if they weren’t aware that they had let their façade slip. Your mother’s smile was back in full force, granted it was forced, and it suddenly struck Michael just how much you two resembled one another, your smile was the same. Your father didn’t look happy but he was back to his usual strict faced expression.
“Oh! We’ve heard so much about you Michael.” Your mother clasped her hands together and while everyone could tell her excitement wasn’t genuine, it seemed enough for your hope to come back.
Because your grin came back, matching your mother’s, before you finally let go of Michael’s hand and bounded over to them. “I missed you so much, mom.” You hugged your mother tightly as your father smiled at the two women of his life. Such a different look to the one he had when you were next to Michael. 
“And you too, daddy.” You mumbled as you moved on to hug your father with a relieved sigh.
Oh for fuck’s sake. Michael clenched his lips together into a thin straight line. It was wrong to see you then, bubbly and jumping around excitedly, looking so adorable and wholesome in front of your parents. While you spoke the title you had so often times moaned out as he had you trembling under him, so tiny and submissive that he could completely take over your entire figure, the one that gave him all the power and dominance over you. 
But to hear it in this context just reinforced what Michael already knew. You were a good girl. One that got good grades and obeyed her parents. But he was slowly tainting that goodness, leaving a new part of yourself just for him. And the rest of the world had no idea. It was almost comical to see you put on this mask of a demure, chaste daughter when he knew the truth of what you were for him.
He had to look away from you, the sight of you looking so pure while saying a word that should have no other connotation was a reminder of how innocent you were and just how much he enjoyed ruining that, how much he already had but evidently not enough because there it was still in front of him. 
He had an urge to take it away right then too, to destroy that facade you currently had up, remind you that he had taken away that pure innocence a long time ago. An urge to hear those words you had just uttered but this time directed to him, like he was used to hearing. A fuck you to the parents that thought they knew you so well, that thought you were, were currently seeing you as, an angelic shy daughter who’d never so much as been touched while in reality her big possessive boyfriend had changed that the moment he decided to have you, it was what made you his, preventing anyone else from ever being able to have you again. But the thought of you being that in front of him right then despite all that, being shy, modest and acting virginal was enough for his body to be heating up with need.
It wasn’t the time for those thoughts but he couldn’t help it after hearing your words, spoken with such modesty when he could imagine drawing it from your lips for him with a very different tone. Oh what horror it would come to your parents, to know that he had that same little girl that currently looked as if she held all the pureness in the world was already marked by him, and all the sinful things he had compelled you to do, the path he was taking you along because of it. And there was nothing they could do about it.
He felt a hand clap his shoulder and he snapped out of his thoughts, glancing down to see your father. His grip was tight and his eyes were unfriendly but his words were playful, likely for your sake. “Great to finally meet you, Mike.” Michael cringed at his words, he hated nicknames. Hated what they seemed to mean, that whoever spoke it thought they were close enough, knew him well enough to give him a personal title. Unless it was from you. “You’re a lot different from what Y/N told us, though.”
“Dad!” Your words had a tone of warning to them as you opened your eyes wide in alarm. His words weren’t straight out critical but the meaning was well received. And any hint of a problem was enough for you to jump in.
Your mother squeezed your shoulders. “Oh come now, little bird.” She laid her cheek on the top of your head, it was hard to be mad at them when she was holding you so maternally you almost felt like a child again. Her gaze was on Michael, however. “You’re a lot taller than I imagined. It isn’t hard to be taller than our Y/N though.”
Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the reminder of just how small you were, this time in front of your boyfriend, but Michael couldn’t stop the albeit tense smile that escaped him at your shyness.
But maybe it wasn’t supposed to be an airy comment. He was taller, but maybe too much. It made it seem as if he was somehow exploiting their poor defenseless daughter, using her to fulfill whatever sick desires he had brewing inside of him. If only they knew.
Your mother hummed, “But if you’re anything like what she tells us about you, I’m sure it will be lovely to get to know you. Even if you do seem so different from all the other boys she’s had interest in.”
The silence that comment was met with was palpable.
Michael’s eyes narrowed at her words. The implication of you with other men (men he had no doubt were a world’s difference from him, men that your mother obviously approved and preferred), thinking of them and crushing on them, was worse enough. But what it meant that your mother purposely remembered and brought them in front of him, your boyfriend, just added a further element.
You had the good sense in moving forward, pulling at his arm before he could retort. Your parents or not, he wasn’t ever good at controlling himself when he got volatile. You cleared your throat. “I made lunch for us. Let’s just sit and get started.”
You were pulling him away and guiding him to your already set dining table. You were uncomfortably aware of the rattling his chains did when he began moving and saw how your parents glanced at them in quick glances. Their lips were set tightly as they walked behind you and Michael and you could feel the way they wanted to talk to each other, no doubt expressing opinions you wouldn’t want to hear.
Michael sat next to you, never letting go of your hand while your father took his place next to him and your mother across from you. If you took away the tension, it almost felt like Michael was the new addition to your small family. The thought made your heart swell. Maybe everything would settle down and get better from then on. You wanted your parents and him to love each other so much, needed this to work on. You weren’t sure if you could handle it if the most important people in your life didn’t get along. You knew Maia already didn’t like him, you didn’t need to add more to the mix.
Your father glanced sideways to Michael. “So, do you study anything in science too? Our daughter spoke all about how kind you were.” His eyes did a not so subtle glance to Michael’s appearance that showcased just how uncertain he was of his daughter’s truthfulness on that account. “But she didn’t mention much about what you do.”
Maybe that was on purpose. Because while you didn’t look the least bit embarrassed when he spoke, your parents didn’t share that sentiment. “No, nothing in science.” He was trying his best, really he was, hiding his contempt and warningly low voice he wanted to take on. You noticed it, the way his tone was still calm, even bordering polite. Or at least his version of polite.
“But Michael helps me out a lot when studying so he knows a thing or two by now. He’s really supportive.” You said. It was true in that you often went to him to study but most of his help came from you practicing bandaging people up after his fights. Not that you were going to make the clarification to your parents.
Your mother nodded, eating your words up. “Well that’s great! It might be even better that you two don’t study the same thing, no competition or anything like that.”  
You loved your mother so much in that moment. At least she was making an effort. And how could you doubt her, really. She was the woman who raised you, the warmest person you knew.
Your father, however, was more blunt. Kind of like Michael. You wondered if having that in common would help them get along better or just dislike each other more.
“So how did you two meet?” Your mother continued, “Do you live on campus as well?”
Michael talked much more than you expected him to. And you were grateful when he responded to each question instead of just a nod or shake of the head. “I live a few blocks away from here. But we met on campus.”
It seemed he knew when to leave out some details as well. Telling them you met him bleeding and hurt after a fight would not have fared well.  
Your mother smiled tightly, “Oh. I suppose it’s easy to visit each other then.” Her gaze split to you and you saw the warning in them. She wasn’t a fan of the prospect of her daughter being alone in a boy’s house, especially one like Michael where he would be free to allure her into unconscionable things a woman like you should not do, particularly one that was raised to do things ‘correctly’ and in the confines of marriage. You hoped she would never have a hint otherwise even if what she was afraid of already happened, and much worse than she ever imagined. Even worse that you had enjoyed it so much, welcomed his allure even.
But before either you or Michael could answer, she continued. “Our little bird cried her eyes out when she moved out.”
“Mom.” You said, hiding your eyes shyly. You didn’t want to think of Michael’s thoughts at that moment, hearing you sound so childish. Maybe thats why your mom said it, knowing that didn’t fit in at all with Michael’s very mature look and aura.
But Michael was staring directly at you, smirking without meaning to. Even then, you were so pure, the worse in your life was leaving your parents. It was as if he was at last being clued into just how much he managed to taint your unsullied person, just how much he managed to change you. From a precious daughter who cried at the thought of parting with her parents, to a slut who cried for his cock and cum. And yet your parents was still blissfully unaware of how he corrupted you. He had to clench his jaw to stop himself from getting hard. 
“She adjusted really well.” His words were filled with a humor only you could understand. The double meaning that went lost to your parents ears, mostly because he knew they wouldn’t want to understand it so they didn’t. 
Your hand was on top of Michael’s on the table, your fingers tracing circles on his hands. Mostly to comfort yourself, but knowing it was helping Michael relax as well. Your father was staring at you with a clenched jaw, visibly frustrated with Michael’s answers, or lack thereof. Maybe he had been hoping that this was just a set up but to see your intimate and gentle interactions with Michael, it was evident that wasn’t the case. It looked wrong to him to even see Michael allow such touches from you when he clearly didn’t deserve it. Especially when he looked so cold. Both of your parents noticed it when they arrived, the coolness with which he regarded them and even you. The warmth you seemed to radiate was so strange next to his mean expression. 
But then the conversation was on you and your studies, your excited chatter filled the air, and Michael was glad for the reprieve. Though he felt as though eyes were still on him constantly. The things he would endure for you.
You had warned him that they were judgmental. But how could they have raised such an open minded girl, one that could’ve been capable of falling in love with him? Or perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps he really had ruined you in more ways than he thought. The thought filled him with a twisted, possessive pride.
“I’ll be right back, I have to bring the dessert from the kitchen.” Michael was getting ready to rise to join you when your mother jumped in. 
“Oh, I’ll help”
Your eyes widened in alarm at the thought of leaving your visibly frustrated father with Michael. “O-Oh. Actually, Michael was going to…”
“Nonsense. He’s a guest.”
You didn’t respond, just nodding tensely. Besides, what could you say? That Michael had spent more than enough days and nights here to no longer hold that guest status? Your parents might combust.
And it seemed as if your dad was waiting for an opportunity to finally speak because as soon as you were out of sight, his gaze was on Michael’s tall figure beside him.
“You know a man like you doesnt strike me as the type to be interested in my daughter.” He said, “You know with your certain look to you. Might scare them away.”
Didn’t scare your daughter away. Michael wanted to quip but your father continued before he had the chance to dwell on whether or not to speak his mind.
“I don’t figure that my little Y/N is your type of woman, normally. What changed?”
How had he gotten you. Was what he was trying to say. How did a man like Michael, get a girl like you. He was sure the rest of the world asked themselves the same question your parents were currently asking themselves. Why had you even given him the time of day? Sometimes he asked himself that too. But usually it filled him with satisfaction knowing how great of a girl he had gotten, to be able to arouse those questions.
He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t the type of girl he usually would’ve gone for before meeting you. He’d never been with an inexperienced girl and your differences, perhaps if anyone else, would have dissuaded him from ever pursuing you. But he couldn’t pinpoint what changed, just that when he met you, none of that mattered.
Michael didn’t lift his own gaze from your father’s. This time not caring if he looked challenging or not and not bothering to try to speak more than just a clipped response. “I don’t know. But seems like I’m your daughter’s type, so it worked out for me.”
“Really, she’s not to...peppy for you? You seem much more .... stoic” 
In fact it’s the happiness you bring in his life that he loves so much. He wasn’t stoic with you but his smiles, laughs and chuckles were reserved only for you. And he loved seeing you look so shy and cute next to him. 
“No.”
Just as blunt as your father. And while it may not seem so to anyone beside you, he really was still trying to be as proper as possible. That included some slightly unmannerly responses and behaviors, but he wasn’t cursing or intimidating. So he counted that as a win.
If your father expected a boyfriend desperate for approval, he wasn’t in luck. Michael didn’t care for his acceptance or support. He didn’t care that your father’s face was turning red with anger; at the suggestion that his daughter, the one he raised so carefully, the gentle and smart one that they were so proud of, the one destined for a nice marriage with a nice rich man, could possibly be attracted to someone like him who, with the small portion of ink he could see, screamed bad news. Michael had an urge to let him in on a little secret; you were much more than just attracted to him, you were weak for him. He wondered how much angrier your father would be if he knew his daughter called him daddy too. 
“Listen here, Michael” He tried his best to be well mannered. “I don’t know what a guy like you wants with my daughter, your intentions. But it’s not what’s best for her, you’re not what’s best for her. She might be blinded from that right now but when she wakes up, and she will, you won’t be around for too long afterward. So take whatever sick fantasy you have away from her because guess what? She won’t be participating. She’s too smart to fall for it. I won’t let my little girl be defiled by someone like you.”
A little too late for that. He had lost count of how many times he made sure to cum all over your face to prove it. 
Michael was silent, staring at him with dangerous eyes. But even still, a taunting smirk was threatening to form on his lips. If only he knew that Michael had ‘his little girl’ on her knees yesterday with his cock down her throat.
Your father was right. He likely wasn’t what was best for you, you could do better. But Michael was a selfish man and you had already allowed yourself to be claimed by him, wanted him just as much as he did you. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him. The thought that your father was still worried about your cherished chastity with someone like him, just increased the lust fueling in him at the knowledge that he had already tarnished the sweet girl no one expected, or dreamed, to have been ensnared by someone like  him.
“She’s a big girl, now.” He said with a secretive smirk. “And I plan on staying for a very long time” He let his sentence stop there for your sake but the rest of his sentence hung between them in silence. so get used to it. Maybe whatever rich loser you wanted her to be with would be afraid of you or cared, but like you said: I’m not what’s best for her. So I don’t. 
Your father’s voice rose so much Michael was surprised you hadn’t heard and come running to defuse the situation. “Look at you! You can’t expect me to think you have good intentions with a girl that you tower over, one that still looks at the world with wonder and has nothing visibly in common with you. She’s never done drugs, never drank, doesn’t have tattoos, she dresses in pastels for God’s sake. One you can easily manipulate especially as it’s pretty obvious to anyone that has eyes that you are more….lived than she has been. She’s lived a sheltered life and that makes her susceptible to bad influences, one that try to take advantage of her for their own twisted desires or kinks.”
Michael didn’t even know if he could deny the accusation towards his intentions. He loved you, couldn’t imagine spending his life without you. He had nothing but good intentions in being with you. But yet, the intentions that swirled around in his mind constantly, the ones that saw you on your knees, bent over, crying for him, body moving alongside him, eliciting you to do every sinful desire, every bad influence, in his heart were anything but good. Only fueled by your tiny size, how everything about him was too big for you, your innocence and wide eyed look to the world, and how that is visible in the way you dress like a naive slut without even realizing it. You were the completely opposite of him and him being able to taint you, leave his mark on you in that way by using that pureness in all the dirty ways he saw fit was a kink he would never get sick of.
As much as Michael wanted to fight back against his words as angrily as he felt. He didn’t. Because he knew you would come back and fix everything and he didn’t want his lapse of judgement to stick in your father’s memories. Despite what he thought, Michael loved you and knew you enough to know that.
But his words held the same amount of punch nonetheless. “Trust me anything I do to her, I don’t have to manipulate her to do it.” He told you that he’d try with your parents. But he never promised that he would try that hard.
And just like he predicted, you were sprinting over to them in an instant. He could only hope that you hadn’t heard his words, only enough to see your father’s veins practically pop out. You stood between and it might’ve been to spite your father that Michael stood at that moment, resting his hand on your hips and pulling you into him protectively. The top of your head just skimming his chest. Showcasing to your parents in visual terms that he was your boyfriend. Maybe it was their worst decision ever to allow you to move out and into university. But it was too late to regret it now. In fact, watching that realization dawn on them, seeing firsthand just what he had taken from the world, a proper innocent girl. You were his now, introduced to sex and pleasure by his hand, ruining you, when that was never meant to happen, just seemed to stoke the fire burning in him.
“Dad!” You stared at your father with a hurt gaze, allowing your figure to be held tightly by Michael.
+
You sighed dramatically as you entered the kitchen. Knowing that if your mother insisted on coming with you it was because you were about to have a talk, one you definitely did not want to hear.
“Y/N.” She started and you slumped against the counter, crossing your arms defensively. Just when you were starting to think she liked him, that things were going more smoothly than they started to be. 
“If you’re here to judge my boyfriend, I’d rather not hear it, mom.”
Your mother nodded as if she was on your side. “Oh, darling. I know all girls go through this phase of liking the boys like this and you’re in college now so everything seems so new and interesting. But if this is just you rebelling or trying to prove something to your father and I. Like, I don’t know maybe you resent us from keeping you from experiencing your teen years then…”
“A phase?!” You stared at her with horror. “You think this is a phase? That I’m with Michael because I’m trying to prove a point or something, I’ve been with him for 2 years mother!”
“And you are just now introducing us, what does that tell you?”
“That I knew you’d act like this and I didn’t want him to be put in a position where he has to defend his very existence! I’m not ashamed of him.”
Your mother touched her forehead in exasperation. “Listen to yourself defending him. Boys like him…they’re only interested in one thing and I don’t want you getting swept up in it, because it isn’t you. Don’t think Maia hasn’t told me all about him, too” You might kill your best friend before this dinner is over. “I raised a kind, gentle, wholesome girl and I don’t want to see what someone like him can do to that when he is very obviously anything but. He’s a bad influence! Honey, really he looks so cold and tense, like he’s half a beat away from killing someone. Can he really give you the love and care you’re used to? That you deserve? He’s walking a different path than you are. And one day you’ll wake up from this and realize that your father and I are right and that we’re just looking out for what’s best for you. You should be with boys more like you. Like Daniel! You remember him from church when you were little? His mother tells me he studies here too and I hear he has grown up very well, I-”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Was your mother seriously attempting to set you up while your boyfriend was in the other room? 
She was partly right. Michael had been walking a different path than you and he had changed you. He had introduced you to things you never could have imagined and you have been side by side with things you’ve been warned all your life to never partake in but he never forced you, he respected boundaries and he wanted to keep you safe and pure as much as anyone.He taught you everything you knew about the world and what it had to offer, he opened your eyes and other parts of yourself and you never felt more exhilarated and safe than with him.
But how were you supposed to tell her that your love for Michael wasn’t a desperate attempt of rebelling or a phase to do so. That you were already swept up in what ‘boys like him’ wanted and you were all too happy to fulfill that. You loved everything she was warning you about. You loved his possessiveness and how wanted you felt with him, how he treated you like a princess, gently yet so roughly. How he was so much bigger he could throw you around however he wanted and you were oh so happy to be his submissive toy. You felt cared for, despite him looking colder than he really was; in fact even more knowing you were an exception in his life, that he was only that way with you. Everything he taught you about sex and pleasure and how good he made you feel. 
 You weren’t going to wake up one day and see what they claimed was the truth. Because the real truth was, you couldn’t be happier with Michael. A man who respected you and made you feel like the center of the world, you’d never felt more loved and cared for than you did with him. And the thought of dating someone like Daniel when you’d already had a taste of Michael, his danger, his protection, his adoration, was dreadfully boring and distasteful.
You were going over your head how you were going to explain all this when the rough clanging of silverware sounded from the dining room. You’d been with Michael enough to know the sound of problem when you heard it. So you dashed away from the kitchen, leaving your mother to trail behind you without a word.
You didn’t give anyone a chance to speak. You saw your father’s angry face, replacing his usual collected strict one, but you didn’t even want to hear what Michael could have said to trigger it.
“I was so excited.” Your voice broke despite yourself, your eyes turning glassy. “I was so happy that the three most important people in my life were finally going to meet because I wanted you to love each other just as much as I love each of you.”
You squared your shoulders, happy that your parents were at least giving you the decency of listening. “The last thing I wanted was to subject my boyfriend to feeling inferior or like he isn't welcome or accepted. He doesn’t deserve that and I love him too much to put him in this position.” 
You felt Michael’s hands tighten around your figure but you kept talking. It broke his heart to see just how happy you had started the day and how you had finished it. “He might not be what you expected but I want to make it clear that the way I described him to you when I mentioned him, that is how I see him and it’s not my fault you’re too stuck on appearances or stereotypes to see that. He’s not taking advantage of me and he’s not a bad influence or using me or whatever I represent to satisfy some…perversion or whatever you think.” 
You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke that way to your parents. But at that moment, you couldn’t really care. You were too hurt, the excitement and hope you felt at the beginning was squashed and instead there was just a fierce protectiveness for the love of your life. “Michael tried but you couldn’t even give him that? I love him and he loves me and I've never felt more secure in being loved, adored or protected. He always looks out for me and never lets me do something that is bad for me. He has never pressured me to do anything and in fact, he's stopped me from being pressured to do things I’ve never done or wanted to do before. I can see a future with him and yet my own parents won’t even take the time to get to know him without already having made up their minds.”
It was your tears that had your parents glancing at each other guiltily before back to you. They weren’t being fair and while their minds were certainly not changed about Michael, they understood their need to at least tolerate him, especially when he meant so much to the only person that mattered in their eyes: you.
Your father spoke first, his eyes jumping around to avoid staring directly at Michael but he nodded as he forced his words out. “You’re right, darling. We’re sorry, to you and Michael. I think we just got caught off guard, plus we were already not going to like him - being your first boyfriend and all. Can’t blame us for being worried.”
And Michael should’ve expected it from his too kind girlfriend when you smiled through your shed tears. You nodded at his words as an acceptance of the apology, just happy they gave Michael one in the first place. You sniffled tearfully. “Of course, daddy. Thank you.” 
Okay, Michael would seriously have to force you to stop saying that to your father or else your dad would really hate him. And he’s afraid he wouldn’t give less of a fuck.
But then your parents were sitting down again, a time for a restart and so Michael guided you down, rubbing his hand up and down soothingly on your back. He knew your parents wouldn’t really ever change their minds about him - especially when, if he was honest, a lot of what they said about him deserving you or how he was changing you, were correct. But they didn’t understand your dynamic, that that very corruption of you was his favorite part. And he was teaching you to love it just as much.
“Yes, again, I’m very sorry Michael.” Your mother nodded at him, “And thank you, if all that she just said is true about looking out for her. Actually, we wanted to thank you. Since you started dating, our little bird has really stepped out of her shell.” You whined embarrassed and Michael fought back a smirk, he was helping you with that all right. But maybe your mother wouldn’t be thankful for that if she knew the truth. But your father just nodded along. 
Michael didn’t respond. He wasn't protecting you for your parents, he would protect you even without them. 
“We wondered who this man was that was helping her so much but now I see it’s because you’re so….free spirited” The reference to Michael’s tattoos couldn’t be more obvious. He couldn’t be nice to Michael even if he tried. But maybe a backhanded compliment was better than a boxing match. 
Michael hadn’t even wanted to wear an uncomfortable long sleeved shirt, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide all his ink anyway and he didn’t really care too much about the difference in your parents reactions if they’ll react negative to their daughters boyfriend having neck and hand tattoos anyway. But right then he thought maybe he had made the best choice. 
Michael watched them carefully. Tolerate. That’s all their new behavior was towards him and he could appreciate that. Because equally, he was forcing himself to be as proper as his mind would let him towards them. Of course, that didn’t mean he was anxious about their acceptance or good feelings towards him.
He had a feeling any future meetings would be like that, the knowing that neither of them really approved of him, the sneaky attempts of guiding you away but the general fake pleasantries thrown his way. And he would try not to ruin that by letting his anger cause him to speak his mind, he could be proper. 
And either you were blissfully unaware of the tense peace compromise between them or you didn’t care, but you just laid your head to rest on his shoulder as you listened to your parents prod more into Michael’s life, asking questions about their daughters boyfriend as if they were accepting him into their lives. You couldn’t be more grateful. And happy. It felt like it was true, your most loved ones were living side by side in harmony. It was everything you wanted and more. A bubbly smile filled your face that your parents, despite themselves, noted how starkly it stood out next to Michael’s tough face. 
They hadn’t tried to take you away from him, you were still in his arms. Along with the pride he felt at you standing up for him when you didn’t have to, when he was very aware of your feelings for him and secure in them. He felt more appreciative than he would ever let you know. All of that that was enough for Michael to play along, play nice and just wait for this entire meeting to be over with. Wait until he could finally be alone with you and content, like he wanted. Like he only ever was when it was just you two.
Besides, despite his best attempts, all these reminders of your differences had left him hornier than he would like to admit. His desires were flaring up to have your parents ‘pure little daughter who he didn’t deserve’ moaning under him. They couldn’t leave fast enough. 
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morningfears · 3 years
Text
Hiking
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Rating: PG-13 (Language, mostly)
Summary: College!Luke and hiking for the 10k celebration. 
Word Count: 2.1k (...this was supposed to be a drabble, whoops)
“Tell me why we’re doing this again.”
You listened to the crunch of gravel beneath Luke’s feet, a signal that he was rounding the car to meet you at the trunk, and bit back a laugh as you reached for the extra water bottle you’d packed because you knew that he was going to forget his own. He’d been whining since you picked him up, a pout on his lips and sunglasses perched on his nose, and you knew that he’d stop the moment you truly got annoyed with him.
For now, though, you were enjoying making fun of him just as much as he was whining.
“It was my turn to pick our activity. I like to hike.” You pressed the bottle into his hands, a saccharine smile on your lips, before you closed the trunk and shrugged. “I also like to see you miserable.”
He turned his head toward you, bright blue eyes hidden by the sunglasses he’d snagged from you years ago, and scowled. “You owe me pancakes for this. It’s so early.”
“It’s nearly ten, Luke.” He waved a hand dismissively when you scoffed, unashamed of his status as the late riser in your friendship, and leaned against the car to take a sip of his water. “Don’t drink too much. If you puke on me, I will murder you. No one will find your body up here.”
Luke snorted at that, his hands moving to tighten the cap on his water bottle before he waved them at the nearly full parking area. “There are literally fifty other people on this trail right now. Someone would find me.”
“Shut up and start moving, yeah?”
Luke breathed an exaggerated sigh and made a show of dragging his feet, sending dust and rocks flying in his wake, but followed you toward the trail. He was joking - that much he made clear when he cracked a grin at your laughter - and you knew that he had no intentions of making the hike miserable for either of you. He was annoyed to be awake so early on his only day off but there was no one he’d rather spend the day with.
And, besides, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone hiking with you.
The first time Luke went hiking with you, you were both freshmen in college and equally shy. You were a friend of a friend of a friend - Ashton was dating your roommate’s older sister - and had somehow gotten roped into going hiking with the group of them. It was Ashton’s idea, to drag all of you out to the middle of nowhere right before fall break, and Luke had only tagged along because Calum and Michael dragged him.
While you weren’t exactly the most social of the bunch, it was clear that you and Ashton were the only ones who’d actually hiked before. Whereas everyone else showed up in black, wearing various old band t-shirts and, in Michael’s bad judgement and mildly hungover case, jeans, the two of you wore actual gym gear and appropriate shoes. 
Luke quickly fell to the back of the pack, happy to be away from the chatter and the attention as he struggled up the mountain, and somewhere along the trip, you fell back with him. He knew that you were capable of beating them all up the mountain - and probably back down, if he had to wager a guess - but you kept pace with him and never even made a face at the sweat that made his t-shirt stick to his skin.
You were halfway up the mountain before either of you spoke - to everyone’s surprise, it was him; he complimented the All Time Low sticker on your water bottle - but it seemed as if neither of you knew how to shut up after that moment.
Your friendship formed quickly, bolstered by your commonalities and strengthened by your differences. If you weren’t in class or at work, you were at Luke’s. And if you weren’t there, the pair of you could usually be found elsewhere together.
When he moved into a frat house and you moved into an apartment, nothing changed. The brothers knew you, just as your roommates knew him, but your nearly nightly outings - to diners, to the movies, to the mall, to the park near campus - shifted to once a week activities that you took turns planning once you both delved deeper into your respective majors.
Luke was your best friend, just as you were his, and you were grateful for the strange hike that brought him into your life. That was, however, to everyone’s surprise, all that you were.
You had a small crush on Luke when you met - even drenched in sweat and struggling to keep himself upright, trudging up the side of a mountain he was cute - but the more you got to know him, the greater your crush grew. He was everything you’d always wanted, all wrapped in an adorable package, but you told yourself early on that you weren’t going to push; whatever happened with Luke, happened.
You knew, deep down, that Luke felt the same. You saw the way that he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You saw the way he blushed when you complimented him or the way he grew flustered whenever anyone pointed out how cute the two of you would be together. Neither of you hid your feelings well but you were content to see where things went.
You always said that you’d rather have him in your life as just a friend than not at all.
Your line of thinking had recently undergone a bit of a shift. You were both approaching your senior year; two semesters away from the great unknown. Luke had plans to stay in the city and work for a record company. You were weighing your options to continue your education and considering leaving to give life elsewhere a shot.
It hurt, thinking that you’d be separated from Luke after so long of him being your only constant, but you knew that you either needed to make a move or move on.
“Alright, you haven’t said a word in almost a mile. Stop thinking, start talking.”
Luke’s words, said through huffs of air forced past his lips, broke you from your thoughts and you blinked when you noticed just how far down the trail you’d made it. You were glad you’d chosen one so familiar - the one you hiked the first time you met and found yourself returning to, time and time again - as you’d mostly relied on muscle memory to make it this far.
“Nothing to talk about. Just stressing over that Media Law final. Baker’s a dickhead and is going to make it unnecessarily difficult.” You knew that you should tell Luke the truth, spill your worries as you normally did, but you couldn’t force the words out.
It was easier this way, to continue on as you had for the past few years, and pretend that the heartache blossoming in your chest wasn’t real.
“Bullshit.” Luke stopped, nudged you to the side of the trail to let others pass, and met your eyes to search them. “That was your sad face. Baker gets the mad face. What’s up? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“Of course I do, Luke.” The words fell past your lips readily, confident and clear, because you knew that. You knew that you could talk to Luke about absolutely anything and he would be there to listen. You knew that he’d never judge or laugh, not if it was a serious discussion, and that helped calm the raging sea of emotions in the pit of your stomach.
But nothing could quell the ache that settled in your bones when he looked at you the way he was.
He had a habit of looking at you like you were the one who hung the stars and moon. His eyes, usually unfocused as he zoned out, were clear and bright and shining with an admiration that rolled off him in waves. Whenever he looked at you like that, right in the eye, he always had a hand on you in some way. This time, he had one hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek.
“What happens next May?”
Luke blinked, confused by the question. “Next May? After graduation?” When you nodded, your eyes flicking between his own and the sand beneath your feet, he shifted his weight and nodded slowly. “I’m staying here and you… You’re going to do something amazing. You might stay here, you might move to fucking Siberia. But whatever you do, you’re going to do it well because that’s just the kind of person you are, honey. You can’t half-ass anything, even if you try.”
Luke grinned when that got a small laugh but it was quickly replaced with a frown when you shook your head. “That’s not what I meant.” You trailed off, almost embarrassed to ask, before the words escaped your lips in a near whisper. “What happens to us?”
That was a question Luke had long considered. He, too, wondered what would happen to you both as you moved into the working world and farther away from one another. He wondered what would happen if you left the city. He wondered how he would continue on without seeing you every day.
And he realized that he didn’t want that.
“We’ll still be us,” he answered finally, his voice just as quiet as yours had been. “We’ll see each other every minute we can and if you decide to go somewhere else, we’ll FaceTime so much that we might as well just livestream our lives to each other. If you leave, I’ll come visit whenever I can and you know you’ll always have a place to stay with me if you want to come back. Nothing will change for us after graduation because I love you and I won’t let it.”
Before you could speak, before you could ask him if he really believed that was possible, Luke continued speaking.
“You know that I mean that in every sense of the word. You’re my best friend and I love you but you know that I also love you with a  capital ‘L’. Being friends with you is something I’d never change but I don’t want to spend our last guaranteed year together wondering what could be. I don’t want to just dream about kissing you, I want to actually kiss you. I want to wake up to you asking me to go hiking and kiss you to convince you to stay in bed. I want to hold your hand and wake up beside you every morning. I want to be the annoying couple everyone already thinks we are because it’s us. And it always has been.”
It felt as if a weight was lifted from your chest as Luke rambled, words spilling past his lips in a rush. He was passionate, certain, and braver than you ever could be. He took the first step, just when you were beginning to think neither of you would ever make it there, and the only way you could think to respond was with a kiss.
Pressing your lips to Luke’s didn’t send fireworks erupting across the sky nor did it feel as if the earth was going to shatter at your feet. It did, however, feel as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. You were wrapped in his arms, hands tangled in his curls, and nothing had ever felt more right.
You were upset that you’d wasted so much time, waiting for life to just happen. But, as you pulled away and rested your forehead against Luke’s, you decided that nothing else mattered anymore. The future, the one where you and Luke existed and everything else came as it would, was all that mattered.
Luke, with his bright grin and flushed cheeks, grabbed your hand and began tugging you back the way you’d come. With a laugh, you dug your heels into the ground and shook your head. “Nope. Finish hike first. Then, we go to my place and shower.”
“You’re going to make your boyfriend hike two more miles?”
“For every half mile you finish, I’ll give you a kiss.”
“Make it every quarter and I get to touch your butt.”
“Shut up and start hiking, Hemmings.”
With another grin in your direction, Luke returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose and kept his hand in yours as he tugged you along down the path. In the future, there would be more hikes and more kisses.
And neither of you could wait.
___________________________________
Author’s Note: ....there’s not as much hiking in this as I wanted but I got started and it, uh, had a mind of its own. Anyway, two fics in like a week? Who am I?
108 notes · View notes
xpeachesncream · 3 years
Text
off the grid | five
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summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.
pairing: reader x pjm
genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)
words: 2.8k
chapter warnings: cussing, alcohol consumption and intoxication, possible inaccurate depiction of transportation, events and whereabouts in South Korea since i only did my research thru the internet, sweet jiminie, fluff, lots of overthinking & slight angst
> series masterlist <
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"Mm, it sounds like you're having fun which is the most important thing. It's nice to see all the places you've been visiting on your stories." Yoongi replied on the other end as he fixed his position in bed.
"Yeah, I'm really enjoying my time here."
"I can tell." He chuckled. "So, is that guy really Yana's brother?"
"Who said that?"
"Namjoon. He's been hanging out with Yana alot too."
"Surprise, surprise." You said sarcastically as you laughed. Namjoon can be a huge flirt, but nonetheless, he was a great and loyal guy.
"Surprise, surprise to both of you." Yoongi added. "He says Yana is pretty happy about her brother spending time with you though."
"I don't know, Yoongs."
"What is it?"
"I'm just not trying to get attached. I don't live here, you know?"
"Then why do you keep hanging out with him? I'd say you already are."
"Because he's fun, and caring, and super sweet. Just so wholesome and pure." You gushed, explaining all the things right about Jimin. The list can go on. "It's hard to be away from someone who has that kind of energy. His friends are the sweetest things, too. Nothing but good company."
"Which is great, honestly. You deserve someone who can do right by you. But just remember to always look out for yourself, okay?" Not gonna lie, Yoongi was pretty worried for both you and Joon. He knew you both had pasts of sorrow, and the last thing be wanted was for you both to be sad or upset. Don't get him wrong, he's happy you both have been stepping out of your comfort zone and meeting new people like this. He just didn't want you both to get too attached because what if you do go living your life the way it was before Jimin came in? Then, what? Instead of coming back feeling refreshed, would you be even more miserable counting your what if's? "Try not to flood your head with all that mess and just have fun while you're still there. Time is moving pretty quickly."
"Yeah, I know." You sighed. Time was moving pretty quickly. You'd be packing up to head back to LA before you know it.
"What are you doing today?"
"It's Jimin's friend's birthday thing. They're doing dinner and karaoke."
"Sounds dope. Have fun, tell me about it later when you're free. I'll let you finish getting ready."
"I will." You sighed.
"Aye, what did I say?" He whined. "Have fun, don't be sad. You don't need to let it consume you."
"Right." You smiled and quickly shook your head to brush off the lingering thoughts. "Alright, I'll talk to you later. Love you, dude."
"Love you too!" He threw up the peace sign before ending the facetime call. You took one last look in the mirror before finalizing your outfit and look. You didn't wanna do too much in this weather, but at the same time, you still wanted to look good. As you were about to give yourself a little spritz of perfume, a knock came at the door. You hurriedly sprayed a good amount into the air and ran through the perfume cloud before heading downstairs. How else would you put on perfume?
"Hey." You smiled at Jimin as you swung your bag over your shoulder. "Ready?" You furrowed your eyebrows as he hadn't replied. Did you look that bad? Why wasn't ol' boy saying anything?!
"Yeah.." He slowly responded to your question. "You look really good."
"You're not too bad yourself, Park." He sure as hell looked fine in those distressed jeans.
"Mmm, thanks.” He blushed a bit, catching you looking at his thighs poking out from the holes in his jeans. “Uh, the karaoke restaurant thing er, whatever isn't too far, but did you need anything on the way? Tae is driving so I can make him take you." You laughed and shook your head.
"Are a ton of people coming out tonight?"
"Not really. Jin doesn't have friends." You laughed.
"He has you guys, silly."
"Moreso acquaintances that deal with him." You playfully hit him.
"That's not nice!"
"Okay, okay. I'm kidding." He pouted. "God, I wish you cared about me like you do about Jin-hyung."
"That's not even a fair statement being that I've spent most of my time with you."
"Yeah, you're right. I just wanted to hear it."
"You're a piece of work." He winked.
"Hey, I told you that color would look nice on you." He gently ran his fingers down the fabric of your coat.
"It's warm." You snuggled into the coat. "Definitely not making the same mistake I did when we went skating."
"Why, you don't like wearing my jackets?" He chuckled. Boy, was he wrong cause you absolutely did. And you absolutely loved how his scent lingered on your clothes.
"It's not that, I just worry cause you're left in the cold."
"Y/N, I told you, I'm used to this. I'd rather you be okay than me." At this point, you were climbing into the car, with Taehyung in the driver's seat, Jungkook in the passenger's seat and Hoseok near the window. You squished into the middle seat, Jimin and Hoseok's thighs both touching yours. They all yelled their greetings to you as Taehyung began to drive off to the karaoke restaurant. They blasted songs in the car, resulting in all of you dancing and singing along loudly as a warm up for what's to come.
When you had arrived, there were a few unfamiliar faces but the group overall wasn't huge. Jin had reserved a whole room at the back of the restaurant for everyone to eat, drink and sing their hearts out. Jimin had introduced you to Jin's other friends, his hand gently pressed against the small of your back.
"Okay," Jin stood as he rose a shot glass full of soju. "I just wanna say that even though I hate you guys most of the time-" Lots of boo's came from their friend group, making Jin laugh. "I'm still super grateful that we can all be here together to celebrate the most important day in history - my birthday. Cheers!"
"Happy birthday, you asshole!" Jungkook yelled as you and the rest of the group took the soju to the neck. The food came out slowly, but by the time the rest of the orders had arrive, one shot turned into two, then into three, then into four. So on and so forth. You hadn't drank in awhile, being that the last time you got pretty drunk was at Yoongi and Namjoon's apartment and all you had was a whole bottle of wine to yourself. You remember that day clearly; Romeo had promised he'd hang out and spend another night with you, but ended up ignoring you the entire day. You cried so much, feeling so dumb for having let him in yet once again. He was shady like that, and he only came around to apologize and spill a lame ass story when he wanted something from you. Something he knew you'd give even though he wasn't there for you 100%.
But that's in the past and you were leaving it where it belonged. It was a little embarrassing how tipsy you felt right now, but who gave a fuck? You were enjoying yourself with your new friends annnd you had a fine man right next to you. You said what you said, you thought what you thought. No takebacks. This liquid courage has you battling with yourself on whether or not you should try flirting and being a little more touchy with Jimin. Should you give him that signal, or nah?
Time was of the essence.
While the group was singing Tearin' Up My Heart by Nsync together, which was your fucking jam, you and Jin sung your hearts out the most. You had used up so much of your energy that you made yourself comfortable on Jimin's lap after the song was over. At first, you were regretting the move simply because you couldn't see his face. Did he even want this? Is it too late to hop off and run the fuck home?
But you felt his arm snake around your hip and pull you closer to his body.
His other hand held the mic as he started to sing along to the next song that came up in the room while you let your body sink into his. He rested his cheek on your arm, while you watched everyone else get even more wasted. Taehyung wasn't even drunk but he was all over the place, singing and dancing around, doing karate chops in the air and showing off his elegant spins. Jungkook was pretty tipsy and would imitate Taehyung every now and then. Hoseok was next to you and Jimin, but completely minding his own business and laughing at everyone in the room while roasting them at the same time. You didn't want to get too comfortable on Jimin or else you'd feel bad, so you tried to wiggle off but he wouldn't let you.
"Where are you going?"
"Aren't you tired?"
"Of holding onto you? No."
"I feel bad."
"Don't. I like having you close to me." His puppy dog eyes looked up at you as he continued to rest his cheek against your arm and hug you tighter. If you weren't in a room full of people, you were pretty sure you'd kiss him right now. But, you kept yourself together and instead smile toothlessly and pinched his cheek. You both continued to sing along and join the group in the chaos, Tae even coming towards you two at one point to have you guys stand and dance with everyone.
The two hours had gone by quickly, with everyone's voices raspy as shit from all the yelling and singing. Jin's childhood friends had gone their separate ways, while you, Jimin, JK, Tae, Hoseok and Jin decided to walk around town. There were a bunch of flyers up for a fair that was going on in the next town, so everyone ended up having to squeeze in the car, with you being on Jimin's lap once again. You tried to duck and keep your body low just to make sure Taehyung wouldn't get in trouble for hauling more than the maximum amount of people in the car, with Jimin's hands comfortably resting on your thighs.
"Let's go on that ride!" Jin pointed at the boat that swung highly from side to side.
"It goes so high." Hoseok made a sour face. "I don't think I'll make it out alive."'
"Come on!"
"Is this a good idea?" Jungkook laughed. "We just ate and had drinks." Jin pointed at him and nodded. He had a point. You all were still definitely tipsy off the alcohol, besides Tae being the sober one. He wasn't going to go on the ride alone, though.
"You're right." Jin laughed. "That makes it even better." He began to run over, making the rest of you follow him.
"You're such a dummy." Jungkook and Jin continued to playfully fight and bicker on the way to the ride.
"Ah, I'm nervous!" Jimin groaned as your group headed to the entrance.
"Are you afraid of heights?"
"No, but I don't like that feeling you get." He rubbed his tummy to signal the butterfly feeling you get after big drops on rides.
"You'll be okay." You laughed. "It'll be over before you know it."
"Can I hold onto you?" He chuckled as he intertwined his fingers with yours. You simply nodded as you both followed Jungkook to the backseat, with Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin in the seat in front of you. The ride filled up quickly and started shortly after the last person boarded. Even with the slightest tilt, both Jimin and Hoseok were screaming, with Jimin damn near cutting off the circulation to your hands. His grip became tighter every time your side of the boat tilted upwards. He would close his eyes and dig his head into your shoulder every now and then, making you and Jungkook cry from the laughter, mixed with the wind hitting your face every time the boat swung. But with all good things, the ride comes to an end.
"See, that wasn't so bad." You lightly patted his chest.
"Agh, I hate it." He groaned as he grabbed his chest and continued to get himself together, making you laugh. Hoseok was pretty much checked out after that ride and was certain he wasn't getting on anything else that night. You all continued to walk through the fair, stopping to play games and win little stuffed animal prizes before riding on rides that were a little bit more lowkey. Once you've reached the end, you noticed there was a crowd gathered around, standing and looking out at the view.
"Jimin, let's go." You nodded towards the crowd. You held his hand and led the way, seeing the fireworks starting to pop off. You squeezed your way to get through the front as much as possible until you found the perfect spot, where no one was in front of your view and there was no one lingering around to potentially block it. "It's so pretty!" You looked ahead at the colorful fireworks. You leaned your body against Jimin's, signaling that you were comfortable with his presence behind you. You felt his arms snake around your neck, hugging you tightly. You rested your hands on his arms, and tilted your head sideways, making Jimin rest his cheek against your temple.
"You're so beautiful, Y/N." He says, softly near your ear.
"Jimin." You squeezed his arm.
"I mean it." His thumb caressed your shoulder. "I'm really happy to be spending time with you."
"I am, too." You kept your eyes on the fireworks. He gently pressed his lips against your temple and continued to hold you close.
"Sorry, I-I should have—" He stumbled on his words, a little shy about having placed that kiss on your temple without asking if you felt comfortable first.
"No, you're okay." You grabbed his hand and placed a kiss on top to reassure him. He placed another gentle kiss on the side of your head before holding onto you tightly as you watched the rest of the show. 
After the fireworks were over, the speakers started to blast some pretty ubpeat songs, making Jimin grab your hand and twirl you around. He held your hand as you both began to dance around freely, you both showing off your random, but cute dance moves to each other. Sooner or later, the rest of the troop gathered around and danced along with the both of you. It got a little crazy and chaotic at some points, but nonetheless, it was such a perfect way to end the night. Once people started to disappear slowly, you all called it a night. Taehyung drove you home first and said his goodbyes, while Jungkook and Hoseok sleepily waved in their seats. Jin pulled you into the tightest hug before climbing back into the car and blowing you a kiss from the window, making Jimin roll his eyes.
"I'm so tired." You yawned and sleepily said as you climbed up the stairs to the loft.
"Did you have fun?"
"Of course I did. Thank you." You swung your arms around him for a tight hug. Pulling away, he kept his eyes on you. You figured, this was it. He was gonna lay one on you and that would be the end of you. But, he doesn't. Instead, he brushes the hair out of your face. He's having an internal battle of whether or not he should though, because after tonight, he really, really wanted to. But he also wanted to do right by you.
"No problem. I'll see you later, yeah? Sleep tight, Y/N." He caresses your cheek before slowly backing away with his hands retreating into his pockets.
"Goodnight, Jimin." You softly respond. Jimin is honestly cursing the fuck out of himself right now as he's slowly heading down the stairs. Why didn't he just do it? Why was he acting scared all of a sudden? Why—
"Fuck it." He says to himself as he races back up before you can completely shut the door. "Wait, Y/N!"
"Hm?" You say as you peek your head out from the door. Jimin rushes over and gently grabs your face, pressing his plump lips onto yours. His thumb caresses your cheek while you continue to kiss back, not wanting to break the kiss.
"That's better." He says, chuckling. You bite onto your bottom lip before tiptoeing to give him one last peck for the road.
The fireworks, the butterflies. You weren't expecting this to be a part of your trip, and now you just wanted it 24/7. He unleashed this new and exciting side of things that made you want to keep exploring, as long as he was there by your side. Nothing else really mattered at that moment.
Not LA, not Romeo, not anything back home.
youtube
Alexa, play: Forever x Chris Brown
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friendandphoe · 3 years
Text
okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95
There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.
“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”
She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.
You ruined everything.
“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.
“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.
What makes you think we want you around?
“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”
It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.
Leave us alone.
“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.
Leave us alone!
“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”
They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."
She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”
A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”
You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.
A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”
“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”
Don’t ever come back here, you little— 
“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”
Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”
She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —
I didn't want you.
— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —
Do you understand me?
— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.
You were a mistake.
Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—
window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—
— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.
Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.
She’s so fucked.
Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.
You show up to my door looking like that?
River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.
Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.
But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.
Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—
You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.
It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.
Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.
You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.
“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”
I think you should leave.
“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”
Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”
She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”
Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.
A mess. You're a mess.
Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”
Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.
“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”
 ...
She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”
Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”
“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”
She turns.
The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”
And with that, she’s on her way.
Get out.
So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.
Probably.
She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.
It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.
And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.
Capture this.
It's important.
Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.
She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.
You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.
Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.
The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.
Which.
Wow.
Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.
One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.
There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.
She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.
What made you think we want you here?
“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”
Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.
Twelve forty-six.
So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.
Worth it.
Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.
But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.
“Alejandra Ochoa?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.
“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."
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28dayslater · 3 years
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okay so basically my question is, is uni as fun as it looks?
i'm 23 and never went, i couldn't even finish college bc of mental health and then i never knew what i wanted in life so thought it didn't matter that i didn't go right away and i kept meaning to like figure it out but then i fell into a job i really like and have been here for a few years now and am content enough. no one in my family went to uni so it was never expected of me so when i didn't go there were no consequences y'know.
but social media is full of people in/who just graduated uni and it looks so fun that i feel like i've missed out. people posting videos in their new accomodation and with their flatmates and becoming best friends and staying up all night, going out doing random things and just having fun and being young with no expectations, and i feel like i've never experienced anything in my life.
like i did some of it, i moved out but there's no parties, no events or societies or getting off with strangers. and i hate to admit it but i still only have a single friend, not the friend group i always wanted. i've been on nights out a few times but it's always different because i know i have to go to work tomorrow, it's never the carefree "i don't know where i'll wake up and that's fine just living in the moment" type of experience. everything is different as an adult i guess. i'm tired by 8pm and going out until 10 is late for me.
and like i know myself i know i would not do well in uni due to my mental health and i would have dropped out or failed, and honestly i do not want to study i do not do well in education. i like finishing work and not having to worry about homework or whatever, but i really wish i could have experienced the social side of uni. i don't know if i'd have even enjoyed it, and it might have gotten old real quick, but i wish i could have at least tried it. and especially when everyone i work with met their partners and friends at uni, and i'm here doing everything i want to do just on my own because my singular friend doesn't share most of my interests.
but i also know people often exaggerate things on social media, and that lots of people don't share their experiences so i'm not sure whether uni is as fun as it always seems or whether it's just select people only sharing their few good experiences. idk i'm just kind of feeling like my entire life has just passed me by or something idk.
sorry for the dump omg i did not mean to say all that i was just gonna ask the question but lost the plot a bit 😭
i think the thing with uni is that like most things it is what you make of it. its a wonderful opportunity to hang out with people your own age, party and ignore your lectures and make stupid decisions bc youre on your own for the first time, and theres no other situation where youre gonna be so free to do what you want, but even when youre there that opportunitys only there if you take it. i went uni for three years, spent half of it violently depressed and not getting out of bed or doing any work, fucked up my actual degree and left with precisely one friend that im still in contact with. so even if youre in the position to be having the time of your life its very easy to waste it and end up having had no fun at all.
it sounds like you wouldnt have enjoyed the actual studying and what you're envious of is purely the social side. and tbf the social part of it does get old quickly, i spent my entire third year living with my best friend just watching crap tv every night instead of ever leaving the house or seeing anyone else. but also, theres no reason you cant create that social life for yourself! all the parties and that i went to at uni were just club nights in town or occasionally at the student union, you dont have to be invited or know anyone before you go.
and as miserable as it is to do and as trite as it sounds, you can make friends even when you're not forced together by school or uni or student accomodation. coworkers, friends of friends, roommates, online mutuals who don't live hundreds of miles away, you can ask those people to hang out and see where you can get from there. and as much as it sickens me to say bc i sound like my mum, theres always societies and events and stuff you can join if you go looking. most my adult friendships have only stayed in my life bc ive put effort into them and made a point of seeing those people and actively making plans. fucking sucks shit but thats the nature of being an adult, when youre not forced together by circumstance every day you have to cling to every friendship youve got and dig your claws in hard
but i hope you do okay! and i think you will
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mytrashcanlife · 3 years
Text
Ashes to Ashes Jasper X Reader Part 4
After that conversation you avoided everyone for a while. This wasn’t like you but the Cullens knew you just needed some space. Maybe some normal friends. Which you got in a sense. You met these two girls in your history class Priscilla and Penelope (bonus points if you know the inspiration for these two). They were not in your normal social group, but you decided that if Carlisle was going to treat you like a rebellious child you were going to ask like one. A few days later you got your chance.
You were deciding what to wear a for party the girls had invited you to that night. It was at some kid’s house. You didn’t really know him, but it didn’t really matter. You wanted to dance with your friends and look good. You decide on a red knee-length dress with silver accents. You do your hair and makeup the way Alice and Rosalie taught you to catch a man and decided on a pair of silver stud earrings and the necklace Jane had given her a few weeks ago. It was pretty. I silver chain with a clear round pendant holding some sort of liquid. You paired it with some red heels and headed downstairs to meet her friends, but Edward stopped you.
“Where are you going this late?”
“Edward it’s eight at night calm down. And my new friends invited me to a party tonight so I’m going.”
“Did you tell Carlisle?”
“One: no, I did not we are still not on speaking terms, and two even if we were I am an adult I don’t have to ask his permission to do anything. Now get out of my way, I’m supposed to meet the girls down the street for a ride.”
“Just be careful okay? Come back in one piece.”
“I’ll try my best”
You walk down the street and get in the car with Priscilla and Penelope.
“Hey girls. You both look amazing.”
“You too red is definitely your color”
“Yeah and I love that necklace. Where’d you get it?”
“It was gift from my aunt. The one who lives in Italy.”
“That is so cool.”
After a few minutes of driving you notice the road beginning to look more familiar than the rest of the drive. You realize where the girls are heading and ask to make sure.
“Hey Penelope, where is this party again?”
“It’s in the woods on the reservation.” You start to panic internally. You could not go back there.
“Ummm. Hey, I don’t really feel comfortable in that part of forest. I have an ex there and his family kind of hates my family for some reason, it’s a long story.”
“Well we’re going.”
“I’d rather not. Could you just turn around and take me back home?”
“No way. I am not backtracking just cause you don’t want to face your ex.”
You see a gas station up ahead and recognize the area. You aren’t on their land yet.
“Fine just pull over at the gas station and let me out. I’m not going.”
“Fine. You are such a buzz kill. No way are we inviting you out again.”
They pull the car over and you get out. You go inside the gas station and take your phone out of your purse. You can’t call Edward he’ll just tell Carlisle, same issue with Esme and Rosalie. Emmet would just tell Rosalie and now you’re back to square one. Alice is out of town. That leaves you with one option: Jasper. You decide to take your chances and hit call.
“hello?”
“Jasper thank god”
“(y/n)?”
“Yes, look I messed up. It’s a long story and I know that we aren’t on the best of terms, but I need help and you can’t tell anybody. I’m at the gas station on third and McLane, just please come pick me up.”
You hear complete silence for a few moments.
“Hello?”
“I’m on my way.”
Within a few minutes Jasper was there. You jumped in the car, tears already streaming down your cheeks. He feels the sadness coming from you in waves. You tell him to drive and he does.
“I’m sorry. I messed up and I didn’t know who else to call. After this whole fiasco with Carlisle, I couldn’t call him, and the others would just tell him, and I can’t face him right now.”
“What happened?”
“You remember my new ‘friends’?”
“yeah”
“well they invited me to a party tonight.”
“explains the dress”
“right. Well I didn’t ask where the party was. They said some kid was throwing it and I assumed it would be at his house, but it turns out it’s in the woods on the reservation.”
“You Were going to the Reservation!”
“NO! as soon as figured out where it was I told the girls I didn’t wanna go, but they wouldn’t turn around, so I told them to drop me off at the gas station and then I called you. I’m surprised you even picked up the phone.”
“Of course, I did. What did you think I was going to do ignore you? Leave you stranded out here?”
“I thought you’d tell Carlisle, so you didn’t have to deal with me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you hate me.” You lurch forward as Jasper slams the breaks.
“you think I hate you?”
“yes. Though I don’t know why.”
“(y/n) I don’t hate you.”
“Then why do you ignore me constantly? Or give me the look of death? What did I do?”
“Nothing (y/n) you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re smart, and kind, and happy and I’m not. I just didn’t wanna kill your mood.”
“well that was counterproductive. Maybe smile at me? Hug me like everyone else does? Hell, even just acknowledge my presence instead of hiding?”
“I picked you up didn’t I? and I didn’t tell Carlisle.”
“Okay that’s a start. Just promise me you won’t tell him what happened?”
“I promise.”
“Thank you, now can we please continue forward before another car runs into us?”
“Of course,”
Jasper drove the rest of the way in silence. Dropping you off a little ways up the street so you could pretend he never picked you up. Before you get out of the car he turns to you.
“You look really pretty tonight. I’m sorry you ended up with such terrible friends.”
“Thanks. And Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Anytime.”
He drives away, parks the car in the garage and walks into the house to find the rest of the family waiting for him at the door. Rosalie speaks up first.
“And where exactly did you disappear to?”
“Nowhere important. I just went for a drive.”
“He’s lying.”
“Shut up Edward.” Jasper and Edward exchange looks, and Edward decides it’s best to keep his mouth shut.
“Fine”
“No Edward not fine. Jasper where did you go?”
“Rosalie drop it.” Edward leans over to whisper to Rosalie
“Who does he smell like Rosie?” Rosalie furrows her eyebrows inhaling slightly before her eyes widen.
“Where’s (y/n)?”
As if on cue you walk through the front door. Rosalie and Carlisle give Jasper a look that says, ‘we’ll finish this later’ and they all go to the living room.
“(y/n) I thought you were going to a party?”
“Edward you had one job. Keep your mouth shut. It doesn’t matter anyway, I got to the party, there were drugs, and the other two were drunk so I took a cab home. This night has been nothing but a waste of an outfit. I’m starving. Mom do we have any leftovers in the fridge?”
“Yeah honey, I’ll make you something.”
“It’s okay. I got it. Thanks mom.” You give Esme a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen. As you pass Rosalie she breathes in slightly to confirm her suspicions. She looks at Jasper with rage. As soon as you’re out ear shot she’s at his throat.
“Outside now. All of us.”
Esme stays in the house long enough to make sure you’ve taken your food upstairs and gone to your room before joining the others about a mile away. Rosalie looks at Jasper likes she wanted to kill him and if Emmet hadn’t put his hand on her shoulder to calm her down She may have.
“What did you do?!”
“I didn’t do anything. I went for a drive.”
“Care to explain how (y/n) fits into that drive?”
“She didn’t she told you herself she went to a party.”
“Then why does she smell like you?”
Edward cuts in. “Jasper just tell them the truth.”
“I told her I wouldn’t say anything.”
“Fine then I will.”
“No, you will not.”
Carlisle joins into the conversation with his normal calm demeanor.
“Edward stop it. Jasper we can see that you obviously didn’t hurt her. We just wanna know what happened.”
“look she made me promise not to tell you what happened Carlisle because she doesn’t want your judgement. She’s mad enough at you so if I tell you then you have to promise me that she will never find out about this.”
“I just want what’s best for my daughter.”
“And I just convinced her that I don’t hate her, don’t make me lose progress here.”
“She never has to know Jasper that’s why we are all out here.”
“Okay. She found out the party was on wolf territory, she didn’t wanna go but her friends wouldn’t take her home. They dropped her off at a gas station and she didn’t wanna face any of you, so she called me. I drove her back and dropped her off a little ways away so she could pretend that she left the party for whatever reason and not have to face Carlisle’s judgement for her horrible choice in friendship. There. Ya happy now?” Carlisle seems satisfied with the answer, but Edward had another question.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“Why pick her up? Why not tell one of us to go get her?”
“Because she said not to tell any of you.”
“Why listen to that though? Why go through the trouble of lying to us when you know we can tell?”
“because I didn’t want to lose the trust I just gained from her. I just convinced her that I don’t despise her.”
“Why do you care what she thinks of you?”
“Because I love her!” There’s a beat of silence as Jasper looks at the shocked faces of his newfound family. “There. I said it. I love her. And I wish I didn’t because every time I smell her blood I wanna tear into her throat, but she is the happiest person I have ever met, and I want to protect her at all costs. So as much as I want her I know that she will be miserable as one of us. I am doing the best I can.”
“She’s your mate.”
Rosalie cuts in with a harshness in her voice.
“No, She Is NOT. We have worked her entire life to protect her from our kind. She is not turning. She is going to finish her senior year and go to college and be a normal kid for once.”
“And how exactly do you plan to keep explaining away ya’ll never aging as she grows old and dies? Or better yet do you plan to explain at all?”
“We will cross that bridge when we come to it”
“No, you’ll burn it.”
Carlisle cuts in to prevent Rosalie from killing anyone tonight.
“Jasper’s right. We haven’t thought this all the way through and besides she has to turn within the year anyway. Aro said she turns before she’s nineteen or he’ll do it himself.”
“You didn’t think this was important information for us to have weeks ago?”
“He made a comment about how he thought it would be Jasper who turned her. I thought he was referring to his lack of self-control, but now I’m thinking that may not be the case.”
“Carlisle you need to tell her what’s going on.”
“I know. We’ll tell her in the morning. Be prepared though cause I can’t see this going over well in any way.”
As the family enters the house to go about their normal business, they know something isn’t right when they smell blood. Esme heads towards the kitchen and screams. The rest of the family rushes to see what the matter is. They find (y/n) on the kitchen floor collapsed. Hand bleeding and the glass pendent she had shattered in her palm.
“CARLISLE!”
“I see her.”
“Do something! What’s wrong with her?”
“She cut her hand open the pendant was glass it’s probably what cut her hand, but this shouldn’t cause this type of reaction.”
“Wait, didn’t that necklace have water in it?” Carlisle’s eyes widen as he picks up the remains of the pendant. He looks closer at the small droplet of liquid left on the glass shards.
“It’s not water Edward. It’s venom. It’s in her veins already.” Carlisle looks to his family as the stare back at the poor girl on the floor in horror.
“She’s turning.”
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spiras-stargazer · 3 years
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Hannibal/Will fic ideas dump: Part 2
These fic ideas are very flushed out so beware the are longer. Basically I don't have time to write them. I used to write all the time and now with no where to go, the stories haunt me.
1. Dracula Hannibal - Humans and all other manner of 'kin, coexist together peacefully and are overseen by a council, with representatives from every group keeping the peace. Hannibal once sat on the council being the original Vampire, but has since left to let others handle the task. He doesn't even like to admit it himself but for the last century he has noticed a dramatic decline in his strength no matter how much blood he drinks. He accepts his time is drawing to a close and he prepares to quietly fade away as all creatures evidently do, when a man(?) comes knocking at his door. "Sorry to bother you Count Lecter. I'm Special Agent Graham. I am here at the request of one of your...daughters." "And what was her request?" "To save your li- to give you my blood." "And what do you get out of fulfilling her request?" "An answer to why I keep hearing your voice in my head Count Lecter."
2. Reaper Gene- Years ago a deadly plague covered the Earth. Using combination of faith, science and magic, humanity stopped the plague but they went too far. All death stopped, but injuries and pain didn't. Bodies still had to heal, still aged but death doesn't come. Eventually the Reaper Gene is discovered. To die, someone with the gene has to make skin to skin contact with the person to end a life. Even so, the gene is incredibly rare. Every known current murder is tested, since regular people, even if they have the gene, can't stomach death easily. Hannibal, who is in jail but not yet sentenced has the gene. In light of his now rare talent, he is pardoned but to receive that pardon he is forced into the now humanitarian service of ending lives. But death is a lonely business. No one wants to be around the only thing that can kill them. Hannibal spirals into a depression working long hours and only just barely taking care of himself. After 3 years, killing alone and miserable, Will darkens his doorway. "I need you, Hannibal." "Get on the list like everyone else. I owe you no favors." "I said I need you, not your...skill." "You cannot pay the fee for my service, whatever your need is Special Agent Graham. Now I have work to do-" "What's your price?" "Unbreak my heart."
3. Abigail AU- After catching Freddie at the Hobbs house, the officers on site do a thorough extra sweep of the house and arrest Nicholas Boyle for trespassing. Abigail is seen by everyone as a victim, forced to help her father to stay alive. After she completes her therapy, Hannibal extends an offer to adopt her, if she is agreeable to the idea. She knows Hannibal is using her mostly to spend time with Will ("You just need to ask him out Hannibal.") but free college, a mansion to live in and lots of time with dogs she doesn't have to care for all the time is hard to pass up. And if Hannibal's cooking tastes familiar who is she to judge?
4. Teach Me - After they've fallen off the radar in a small cuban port city but still in the process of reconnecting and recovering, Hannibal starts helping out at a small Cafe, and Will starts offering boating and fishing courses across the street at the Marina. Hannibal is thrilled because he loved hearing Will teach his FBI classes, and so he takes the opportunity to bring Will an early lunch everyday, just to listen. Will doesn't catch on and instead changes his schedule thinking they could spend some time together. Hannibal takes the change in schedule as Will doesn't want him hanging around so he just brings Will his food and leaves. Will takes this as the other man's rejection and he starts pulling away from Hannibal at home. Will starts offering personal one on one classes to stay busy and preparing for Hannibal to leave him and be on his own. Hannibal starts spying on Will and he catches him with another man, close to Hannibal's age, flirting and sharing soft touches. Hannibal snaps and kills the man before he realizes what he's doing and he falls to his knees before Will. "You are the cruel siren I deserve, but you do not have rocks below you to end my suffering against." "'Cruel siren'?! Hannibal! You lured me in and then got tired of me!" "Never!" "So you didn't start ignoring me when I specifically made time so we could share lunch together?" "What? You made it clear you didn't want me at your classes!" "I made it so you didn't have to be bored listening to me!" "I came early specificly to listen to you teach!"
5. Bride Hannibal- Hannibal of course wanted a big fancy wedding, but now being a well known serial killer and having Will 'that would require me to be social' Graham as a partner, Hannibal quietly decides to just try and be happy with what he has, since Will actually loving him back was more than he could have hoped for. Will can tell something is off with Hannibal. He's been toying with the idea of asking Hannibal to marry him and for once he wants to be seen. Hundreds of people, staff and friends, a live video stream...he wants the world to see him, happy for once, with his dangerous and handsome husband. He knows Hannibal loves a party and must have ideas but every time Will gets the wedding conversation started Hannibal contributes but is despondent or at least isn't contributing like he usually would. Will eventually stumbles across a scrap book in Hannibal's study filled to bursting with scraps of fabric, magazine clippings, recipes, vows...so Will secretly sets to work on the Wedding they both obviously want.
6. Arranged Royal Marriage- Prince Hannibal (late 20's) has never felt the sting of cupids arrow. His father, worried for their country's growth and prosperity and his line, summons every proper suitor far and wide to Lithuania to finally get Hannibal married. Thousands of suitors arrive, thinking if they don't find a match in Hannibal they can find a match among the other guests. Hannibal finds all the parties and events enjoyable but non-productive and sneaks away at night to the royal gardens. One night he finds another man in his usual spot but decides to stay as long as the other man isn't there for conversation. They spend a surprising easy silence together and Hannibal is shocked to find himself feeling drawn to the man even with no words yet spoken between them. Unfortunately for Hannibal, by the looks of the man's simple attire he is likely a royal servant or a chaperone, not a suitor. But the man, King William Graham of the Lakeland realms, Father of Wolves, is a suitor...he's just not very good at communication, or at being Royalty. As interesting as Hannibal is, why would a prince like him choose a fisherman and houndsman King like Will?
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redhoodssweetheart · 4 years
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Robin Tattoo
Genre: Soulmate AU
Relationship: Older!Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader
Requested: Yes (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED)
Word Count: 2.6K
Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, swear word
Description:  Damian has known you were his soulmate for some time now.  And it isn’t until he gets a little too jealous that you manage to put two and two together.
A/N: The soulmate that Jason is talking about is actually an OC from my story with Jason called Under the Mask.
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The little robin had been tattooed on your side from the moment that you had been born.  It was your soulmate mark, the thing that connected you to your soulmate and would help you find them.  You often stared at it wondering who your soulmate was and what they were like.  Would they be sweet and kind, or maybe shy.  Would they be strong and confident.  Thoughts were constantly swirling about what they looked like as well.
There were some worries as well.  What if you never found them?  What if they rejected you?  There were rare occasions where one soulmate rejected their destined partner.  It could be for any number of reasons, but it was very rare.  Only about two percent of people rejected their destined partner.
And you didn’t want to be a part of that statistic.
Your friends tried comforting you and telling you that if your soulmate rejected you then they were an idiot for passing up the opportunity to know you.  You would smile at them and tell them thanks, but their kind words did little to quell your fears.
Damian had always thought the robin was laughable.  When he had lived with Ra’s there was something about it that seemed weird and strange.  Why would he - the grandson of the demon - have a robin soulmate mark?  It wasn’t until he went to live with his father and took up the mantle of Robin that he understood.  The universe was weird like that sometimes.
Damian was now a freshman in college and he still hadn’t discovered who he shared the tattoo with.  He hadn’t been vocal about wanting to know, Dick and the others had a tendency to tease him about it, but deep down he wanted to know who you were.  Who was the person that was supposed to be the other half of his soul?
Seeing the tattoo had been a complete accident.  He had met you through mutual friends and one day he caught a glimpse of the robin tattoo when your shirt raised up slightly.  Damian had frozen in that moment, just staring at it until your shirt lowered again concealing the soulmate mark from view. 
You.
You were his soulmate.  Your friends were currently at the beach, Damian had invited everyone to come stay at the beach front house that Bruce had.  It was spring break and instead of going to the overcrowded beaches that most crowded to Damian had brought you all here.  It had been several months since had discovered your tattoo and he had yet to tell you what he was to you.
He remembered going to Jason one night, it was late and everyone else had gone to sleep, but Damian couldn’t shut off his mind and he knew that Jason would be awake.  He was always awake.
“Jason, if I ask you something… will you promise not to tease me or tell the others?”  Damian had hesitated, but he wanted to get his brother’s opinion because despite what others believe he looked up to his older brothers.  He loved them in only a way he could.
Jason had paused whatever it had been he was doing and leaned back in his chair.  Jason’s soulmate mark was on his wrist, it was his soulmates name, Freya Andros.  Some people had names of their soulmates, some had a shared image, and some had the first words a person would speak to their soulmate.  “I promise,” Jason loved to tease Damian, but he knew when he needed to be a big brother to the younger member.
“When you… when you met Freya how did you know you wanted to tell her?  I mean, I know it was easier for the two of you to find one another especially in today’s day and age with technology.  But with everything that goes on in our life how did you know you wanted her to be a part of it all?”
Jason studied Damian, he had wondered if he had found his soulmate, he seemed on edge and there were times when he would check his phone and smile, a rarity for the young Wayne.  “I wasn’t going to seek Freya out,” he admitted.  “I thought having a soulmate would distract me from our mission.  I covered my tattoo when I became Bruce’s adoptee that way people couldn’t trick me into making me believe they were Freya.  She came to Wayne Enterprises one day while I was there and begged to see me. They wouldn’t let her in, but I knew she was there.
“When I died Bruce told me that she came to the funeral, that she was devastated.  He said he had never seen someone look so broken before.  And then I came back.  When Bruce told me about her coming to the funeral, when I heard how it had affected her, I just didn’t see a point in not being there for her anymore.  I was miserable without her before I died.  Knowing she was out there, but not getting to see her, watching from afar to make sure she was safe was torture.  She was right there and I could’ve held her.  Seeing her face when I knocked on her apartment door, seeing the confusion and hurt and relief broke me.  I told her everything.  I explained why I stayed away, it wasn’t because I wanted to reject her, it was because I wanted to protect her.  She told me I was an idiot, but that she could also understand.  I knew I wanted her in my life because I felt alone, odd seeing as how I have you and a whole group of kids that Bruce has adopted over the years.  But I was missing something and it was her.”
Damian considered Jason’s words now as he watched you through the window.  You and several of your friends were already outside playing in the sand.  Billy stepped up beside Damian, “You’re not that subtle for a vigilante you know.”
Damian turned toward Billy and narrowed his eyes, “Watch it, Batson.”
Billy smirked, “Ruffling some feathers, Robin?”  He started backing toward the door, “Maybe I’ll go join them and hang out with Y/N.”
Damian gritted his teeth, “Leave her alone.”
“See you later, Damian,” then he was out the door and heading your way.  
Damian couldn’t help the jealousy that rose inside him and the feeling of anger.  He tried tamping it down, but when he saw you laughing and the way Billy was getting close to you he couldn’t take it.  He stormed outside and pushed Billy away from you.
“Damian!”  You shouted, but he barely registered it.
“You’re an ass, Batson!” Damian yelled.  “You know that?”
You watched Damian, saw the anger and jealousy all over his face.  He had always been like this when you were around and there were other men giving you attention.  He would sling an arm around you or angle his body just a tad bit closer to yours.  You hadn’t really thought anything of it before, hadn’t paid attention to the queues that he was giving you subconsciously.  It wasn’t until just now, the pure anger and jealousy on his face when it clicked.
Damian was your soulmate.
You looked to Billy, the knowing grin on his face, the mischief in his eyes.  He had known too.  He had figured it out and was pushing Damian to tell you the truth.  Which begged the question: why hadn’t he told you?
If he knew then what was stopping him?  Was he disappointed that it was you?  No that couldn’t be it because he wouldn’t want anything to do with you and you doubted he would get this angry and jealous with another guy flirting with you.
You reached out and took Damian’s hand, aware of everyone watching the situation unfolding before you.  He looked at you when he felt you slip your hand into his.  “Damian, come on,” you gently started tugging him toward the house, wanting some privacy from the others.  
He went willingly with you inside and once the door clicked shut behind him he said, “Y/N, I would like to apologize for my outburst, it was-”
But before he could finish his sentence you were wrenching his shirt up to see the robin tattoo.  Seeing it, actually seeing it there, made you pause.  Your eyes were locked on the delicate design of the bird, the way it matched yours completely.  Your gaze traveled up to his eyes and you saw pain there.  “Were you ashamed?”  Your voice was barely above a whisper.
“What?  No,” he said, of course you would think that.  “There is so much I need to explain, but I can’t do it here.  Not when there are so many people around.  Not when we’re not… alone.”
You let go of his shirt, “I need to go.”  You turned and darted up the stairs to your room where you slammed the door shut and crawled into the shower to cry.
Damian ran a hand through his hair and began swearing in Arabic.  This is not how he had seen this going.  Feeling eyes on him he turned to the windows to see everyone trying to act like they hadn’t just been spying on them.  Billy was the only one still looking at him with no remorse written on his face.  Damian would deal with him later, but for now he had to figure out how to fix things with you.
You hadn’t come down for meals, but one of your friends had brought you dinner.  They asked if you were okay and you told them you would be.  You had wanted to ask about Damian and see how he was, but then you remembered that you were mad at him and didn’t want to know.  You didn’t want to think about him.
You were staring up at the ceiling when there was a knock on your door, “Y/N?”  Damian’s voice drifted in and it caused you to sit up quickly, your eyes wide as you looked toward your door.  “I know you’re not asleep.  May we please talk?”
You wanted to tell him to shove off, but you also wanted answers and you would only be able to get those if you let him in.  Slowly you rose from your spot on the bed and opened your door.  He seemed relieved that you had and stepped aside to let him in.  You wondered if anyone else was awake and going to try and listen in on your conversation.
“They all went out,” Damian said as if he had read your mind. “I waited to make sure they were all gone before coming here.”
You climbed back onto the bed and watched as he perched himself on the side, unsure if he should be close to you or not.  “You said that we needed to talk, so talk.”
Damian glanced at you, a hint of a smile on his face, but it was gone before you even really registered it.  “First let me say I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be my soulmate,” he released a breath and squeezed his hands into fists.  “I’ve known for a couple of months now, and I debated telling you the moment I saw it.  But my life is, how do I put this?  Complicated?”
“Everyone’s lives are complicated, Damian,” you told him.  “Life isn’t easy.”
He snorted, “You’re not wrong, but there are certain factors that make my life a bit more complicated than most.  Where should I even begin?  I guess with where I grew up.”  
He launched into his tale.  He told you about growing up in the League and then coming to live with his father.  How Bruce Wayne was Batman and he was Robin.  He explained that he wasn’t sure if it was worth it putting you in danger, if he was being selfish if he told you the truth.  Was love worth the pain of possibly losing you to something that could potentially be his fault?  You listened to him talk and never once said a word.
You could see why he would be scared.  He explained about his brother Jason and how he hadn’t told his soulmate and then he had actually died.  He had wanted to save you from that same kind of pain because there was no guarantee that he was always going to walk away from a fight.  He then told you that it was Jason who convinced him that he should tell you, that when Jason had been returned from the dead he had sought his soulmate out because life just wasn’t worth living it without her by his side.
He even told you about how his mother had once tried to kill Bruce’s soulmate because she had this delusion that she and Bruce were meant to be together.  Thankfully, Selina Kyle was resourceful and had nine lives.  But that had made an impression on Damian and he hadn’t wanted to put you at risk like that.  You weren’t Selina and you weren’t a trained fighter like he was.  Obviously Damian had been through a lot and he had acceptable reasons to be a little wary when it came to letting people in.
Damian then said that he had planned to tell you after spring break.  He was going to take you to his favorite place in Gotham and just spill his soul to you, but Billy had had other ideas.  You took it all in and when he was done the two of you were quiet.  Damian waited for you to kick him out and tell him that after this trip you never wanted to see him again.
Instead he felt the bed begin to dip as you crawled toward him and perched yourself next to him.  You gently tilted his head toward yours and kissed his forehead.  Damian froze at the feeling of your lips against his forehead, surprised by this.  “Y/N?”
“I’m still mad,” you told him.  “But like your brother’s soulmate I can understand.  I still think it should have been my choice to tell you whether or not I wanted to be with you or not.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he told you.  “But let me make it up to you.”
“Okay,” you smiled at him and Damian thought that he had never experienced so much happiness as seeing his soulmate smile at him like that.
You pulled him back and the two of you curled up together under the covers, Damian gently kissing your head and telling you more stories of his family.  You listened wanting to know the things that no one else knew about him.
The rest of the trip went by a lot more smoothly and the others weren’t surprised when they finally caught a glimpse of the matching tattoos on y’alls sides.  Billy elbowed Damian and gave him a look like ‘you’re welcome’ and Damian knew he was going to have to teach him a lesson when they made it home.
When you made it back to Gotham you met his family and instantly fell in love with Alfred.  The kind older man took you under his wing and showed you how to patch up Damian if he was ever hurt and treated you like a granddaughter.  His presence was calming especially on the nights when Damian was on patrol or on mission.
Jason’s soulmate, Freya, was also a huge help, the two of you bonded over shared experiences given who your soulmates were.  And you slowly became more comfortable with them all and considered them family.
One night Damian took you to one of the rooftop balconies of Wayne Enterprises and you could swear that you could see the whole city from this vantage point.  As he held you that night you wondered what the future would bring for the two of you, but you hoped that it would be good for the two of you and that you could hold onto this happiness forever.
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readbyred · 3 years
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“Pathetic” Ted Spankoffski x Reader
a gender neutral, reverse hurt/comfort fic
warnings: cursing; mild sexual comments; a very tired dyslectic author
Lately, things haven’t been going so well for Ted. Charlotte broke things off for good and it was far from pretty, the atmosphere was crushing to be honest. And so with time he latched onto Paul more and more, using his best friend as a distraction from his own life and failiures. Unfortunately his companion seemed to be a bit distracted and not very eager to spend time, at least less so than usually. Ted pinned the fault on a crush of his, Emma, one of the baristas at a nearby caffee. She was hot and would be great if onyl she didn’t speak, or at least that’s what he told Paul. His friend didn’t seem to agree for some reason. But that’s how it was, in Ted’s opinion. She always got offended for so many small things and tried to make him out to be the bad guy of every confrontation. But it wasn’t Ted’s fault that their uniform shorts were so short and besides one or two comments were just a given considering how good her and her coworkers looked in them. But she always had something to say, a name to call him or even a complaint to make, if her boss was around. But even then it was all fun and games. Until one day it wasn’t.
It all started “innocently” as he considered it. He spotted Paul using the stairs on the opposide side of the building. Some time ago his friend had stopped using the ones by Ted’s office, for one reason or another. And so they made their way together, Ted trying to get some information out of him as to how things with Emma were. Finally after a conversation more painful than pulling teeth Paul announced that he was going to ask Emma out. It was a big step and it surprised Ted but after some teasing he promised not to blow this. So far so good and it wasn’t until they stood in the line, inside the cafe, that it went downhill.
It was meant to be a harmless comment, he knew Emma found them at least a bit funny too, for sure. Nothing bad, he just asked whet else could she do for a tip if she didn’t want to sing. She already looked very annoyed, he never expected her to appreciate his humour and so he nudged Paul saying that he might give her a different tip if she didn’t want his money. That, for reasons unknown to Ted, crossed the line and Emma whipped around to face them frustrated. She turned to Paul to announce that although she liked him around if his friend was going “to come around only to be a gross creep” then they might as well just go to starbucks instead, since she “didn't go to this shitty job to get harassed”
Ted didn’t even get to say that technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong because Paul who was now done with awkwardly apologizing to his very pissed off crush, dragged him out of the Beanies, furious. They didn’t talk and to be honest Ted started to feel a bit anxious inside, like a child feels when they tip off their parent in public and know what will await them home.
But that was just how he was! A sleazeball, a jerk, a horny bastard at best. He didn’t want to accept that same persona that was now basically his whole self could have gotten him in trouble with his best friend. And he was never a fan of feeling guilty in general so as soon as he realised that Paul wasn’t going to address it he turned to the first person that asked what happened.
It was Bill who questioned the situation first and although he asked Paul what was up the younger man seemed not to be in the mood to talk and so there was Ted, ready to offer his, very objective, point of view. Leaning on the wall of Bill’s cubicle he announced, trying to sound like he didn't care that he obviously did something bad.
“His grumpy barista got pissed for no reason” chuckling nervously he exclaimed glancing over at Paul working on his computer and ignoring him “it’s not my fault she’s so stiff, alright? And there are many more girls than her, it’s her loss, ey?”
No response. Bill seemed to glance at Paul pitifully.
“Oh, come on! You can do better anyways! And as your best friend I-”
“Can you shut up?” Paul didn’t raise his voice but he as well might have, the tone he was using was way worse. He fully turned to face his older coworker, and for a very long time in a while Ted was, in fact quiet. As he spoke however he became more visibly frustrated “Can you finally stop following me around when I don’t want to be followed, trying to insert yourself into EVERY conversation i have and ruining everything with your gross comments? Why can’t you take the hint? We are not friends, you- you’re just this guy, a guy from work that’s just there when no one wants him to and is just too... pathetic for anyone to directly tell him that''
Ted’s face went blank as Paul let out his years worth of frustrations.
Ted often heard those words. “Pathetic” yes, he was familiar with the term more than anyone. It was alongside such titles as “annoying” “sad” “lonely” “disposable” “a nobody” something he heard often. Sometimes from Sylvia who worked on the top floor and had no real fun qualities besides looking hot (in his opinion). Other times from Emma who would be a decent friend if she wasn't so annoyingly ‘horny for Paul’.
Most of the time he said them himself though. It was normal, you know. A truth he accepted without any brooding except for those lonely nights in his apartment where he drank and let his emotions out. But it hurt no less to hear such remarks be thrown at him from someone like Paul. Someone who, despite his flaws seemed to be genuinely liked by people around him and wanted around. But if Paul wasn't his friend did he have anyone else at all? Not only in his job but in general. After all he didn’t have much besides his work life.
In his youth he was a nerdy little kid that quickly bloomed into a bitter, insecure adult, no magical glow up or ‘it gets better after high school” crap. When he got this job sometime after college, still a mess after that happened a few autumns earlier, he thought he found his place.
Even if he never felt very wanted he liked it here a lot. Only now had he realized he might have been the only one to see it as such. Was he just as sad as everyone apparently saw him as?
That moment made him way too conscious of his own existence and choices, it was no longer a matter of convincing himself that it's all in his head now that the truth was out and clear, the words hanging in the heavy air seemingly for the whole world to see.
And to be fair he had no arguments against the claim, because how sad that was to consider his coworkers, coworkers that apparently hated his guts, the closest people he had?
Because sure, Bill was stiff and boring but there was a certain dose of fun in their usual banter. Sylvia always knew all the gossip from the office and wasn’t all that bad at times. Melissa was always fun to hang around and even brought him lunch on a few ocassions. Even the intern that joined merely two months before, (Y/n), was someone he accepted as a friend. Not to mention Paul and Charlotte, two of the closest people he had, both of which didn’t want him around. And from what Paul said no one else did either. He had no reason not to believe it.
It took him only a few seconds to get it together when Paul finished.Ted always had a habit of getting very obviously defensive when his ego was hurt.
“Okay, whatever!” he shrugged angrily “Well, it’s not your problem then! I know when I’m not wanted”
He made his way to his office, away from Paul and Bill and all those people who he considered to be his friends.
*
The whole day was a bit messy, ever since (Y/n)’s foot stepped into the office they were sent on endless errands by their superior, Mr Davidson. Whatever happened up above in the chain it created one hell of a mess in the documents and so (Y/n) along with Melissa were the busiest they’ve been in a while.
Hence when they finally found time to get some well deserved coffee most of their friends were on their way back to CCRP.
That led to a lot of confusion when after stepping onto their floor they were met with an unusually tense atmosphere. They must have missed something important, they thought.
It wasn’t a long time ago when they joined the team and they never felt like the new person they were and all the efforts at staying purely professional faded with first friendships. And as much as they tried to,they became fond of their coworkers quickly. And so the current mood around them concerned (Y/n).
This wasn’t snooping around, they told themselves approaching Bill to ask what was up. He was a nice man, older than them and equally unskilled in the tech field but overall a very sweet man. If there was something to be concerned about he’d tell them for sure.
The day was almost over, one hour was left until Ted could go home and drink himself to sleep. But for now he just sat in his chair, staring blankly on the screen of his computer displaying a familiar black and orange webpage he was unusually uninterested in, mindlessly squishing his old and used up stress ball. The busiest hours were over and all files seemed to finally be back in place and safe and so he didn’t have much more to keep himself busy with.
He was angry, upset and hurt. Already keeping so many negative emotions inside, those new ones threatened to spill over the edges of the walls he built over the years but so far he managed to keep it together as much as he could.
And that’s when someone knocked on his door.
“What?” he sounded just like he felt, his own voice betraying him greatly. The person on the other side must’ve taken it as an invitation because soon they revealed themselves to be (Y/n). It wasn’t the last person he wanted to see, sure, but it was only because he didn’t want to see any of them equally. Maybe Paul a bit more than the rest “What do you want?”
“I heard what happened and-” they began, watching him carefully. Ted felt even more miserable under their gaze, truly pathetic and judged with his emotions on display. But there was no more space left for him to push them further down and ignore.
“Great, you came here to tell me how much you hate me too, or what?” he scoffed giving them a bitter look “Because I ‘acted like an asshole’?”
“You did from what I know” they responded. It wasn’t something he didn’t expected to hear but he felt even worse hearing it come from (Y/n). They were someone he had his eyes on for some time but never got to try anything. First, because he was with Charlotte and, as much of a jerk as he considered himself to be, he would never forgive himself for being just like Sam. Later when she ended things it was just too painful to jump back into ‘his game’ as he called it. As he always believed, he wasn’t able to fall in love. He did so once in college and never again. It was easier to believe than to face his fear of rejection and not being enough again. Sure, he didn’t exactly love (Y/n) and even if he could do it at all he probably wouldn't, knowing them for two or three months tops. Those sorts of feelings though, weren’t distant at all and their arrival was, at this point, almost inevitable. And so to hear them stand against him, even if rightfully so, hit him in a way he never anticipated. Hence his confused expression when they added “But I came here to check on you, you’ve been locked in here awfully long...”
“I was busy” he barked back quickly returning to his defensive tone. They sometimes asked him things like this one for no apparent reason as to why would they want to know that. He never fully gave in, only sometimes in passing throwing one or two passive-aggressive remarks referring to his situation with Charlotte and such.
“Bullshit” they raised their eyebrows looking down at him. If it wasn’t for the fact he felt anything but up for joking he’d point out how unusual it was to hear them curse. Unamused they added, awaiting his response “Your screen reflects on the glass behind you. So?”
“’So’ you can leave” with Paul’s words still vividly playing in his head he avoided their gaze. The possibility that they thought of him so lowly seeming very overbearing and terrible all of a sudden “I’m fine, alright? So what else you came here for”
“You know acting like this never worked on me, right?” they took the seat opposite to him, still acting very unbothered by his aggressive demeanour, maybe a bit impatient.
“And why do you even want to know that, huh? I mean really, (Y/n), I know you’re new around here but you really don’t have to kiss ass to-”
“Get over yourself, will you? If you’d like to know I was worried” their frown was gone almost as soon as it appeared as they went one, seemingly letting their words fall from their mouth freely “And yeah! You cross many lines, I’m not surprised Emma was mad, whatever you said to her. But you’re still someone I care about, as a person. And you’re not that bad most of the time, you know?”
“If you really want to have a place to stay over the weekend it wouldn’t hurt to ask more nicely, you know” Ted jumped between acts and masks, desperate to find one strong enough to hide whatever that was that made his expression soften.
“Look, I came here on my own but if you want things to go back to how they were you’ll really need to drop the act” they sighed, gaining a bit more of a serious tone.
“And you tell me that? It was Paul who decided to call me a lonely pathetic asshole” Ted knew well only one of those things actually came from Paul but if there was even the smallest possibility to have someone disagree with what he and others thought of him he’d gladly take it, even if it wouldn’t be honest. But what was more pathetic than fishing for a surely insincere ‘oh no, you’re not!’?
“And he regretted it right after, I spoke to him, really. I’m not going to try to make you shake each other’s hands and apologize, you can do that on your own if you want to. I’m just saying you both screwed up, there isn’t one person to blame”
“Okay, (Y/n)” he sighed “That’s cool of you to try and be moral like that but I don’t need to talk or make up with anyone so you either want to cheer me up my way or you can get back to work”
He let his eyes travel up and down their body freely, assured by their earlier statements and a bit relieved that they didn’t share Paul’s opinion. He looked back up when they stood up, torning to the door. Just before he could mentally curse himself out for ruining it they stopped.
“Tell you what, it’s Friday. I’ll make something up to get out of softball practice and we can go grab a drink” they said grabbing the doorknob “That’s the closest I’ll get to doing it ‘your way’. What do you say?”
“Wait really?” it was rare to see him truly surprised like that but it was the last thing he was expecting to come from them.
“Yeah, I can show you a cool place” they smiled walking out and turning back for the last time “come by my desk in an hour and we’ll be good to go”
The door closed leaving him alone again in a much brighter office.
Ted felt a small smile form on his face, a geniuine one too. Things were awful and he didn’t even want to think about how (Y/n) made him feel or how awkward things were going to be in the office from now on. But even if nothing was alright yet, it seemed that he was getting a bit closer to ‘okay’ and that was more than enough.
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