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#not having your efforts be acknowledged being seen as the bad guy despite giving yourself away to a cause you never believed in
grimxark · 1 year
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I’m so obsessed with Prowl because by all means he is kind of a tragic character. He’s a bit of a jerk and has questionable morals but he’s very much all that because he was unable to escape a war he wanted no part in. Ultimately everything he did was selfless under the guise of selfish. Sure it hurt a shit ton of ppl but he was truly going “either I do this or a shit ton more people die” . Like even the g9 incident is somewhat explainable bc they were stuck on earth with 18492 other things going on and no real way of helping. Even the thing with tarantulas can be explained as a sudden guilt and regaining consciousness. He gets beat up by the people he trusts the most and gets violated over and over again. People are more sympathetic to megatron than they are to him. More sympathetic to shockwave than they are to him. ‘Oh but they were victims of a flawed system’ and so was he! He was constructed cold. He lived in a functionist neighborhood while having been constructed cold. How fucked is that
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Awkward Encounters
Authors Note: At first, I was going to write this as the reader being in Tessa’s perspective but then I thought that it would be too much of a copyright. There may be some similarities to the story but I have written Tessa in as a separate party. Tessa is still with Noah in this. Also, I will be referencing parts from both the movie and the novels. In this particular fanfiction Tristan is a girl, like the movie.
Summary: You are a freshman at college and your life there started pretty normally. Your best friend is Tristan who is dating Steph who is roommates with Tessa. That was until you went to a party with Tristan and the girls. You had no idea that the mysterious British boy was going to intervene when you come face to face with the Bitch that is Molly.
Warning: Swearing
Pairing: Reader x Hardin Scott
Word Count: 4,423
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“Come on Tristan, I told you.” I moan. “I can’t go to another party; I am still recovering from the last one.” I cling to a cold compress, trying my best to shield my eyes from the light that is seeping in through the open door.
Tristan threw a pack of Ibuprofen onto my lap that she snooped around in my bag for. “If it’s that bad, take one of these and get your butt out of that bed.” I groan at the impact from the small box just for the effect. “Don’t be a baby and get up.”
I roll over on the bed to face the wall. “Can’t you just go with Steph?”
“No!” She abruptly spat out. “I want to go with you. Steph is bringing Tessa and I don’t want to show up alone.”
“But you will be with her when you’re there. What’s the point in me getting out of this lovely cocoon that I have made, just to walk you to the party?”
Tristan had her head bent over, pulling her hair into a high ponytail on the top of her head. “You know that what you just said was the whole point.” She sighed. “Everyone is going to stare at me when I walk in there all on my lonesome.”
I eyed the short revealing dress that she was pulling onto her petite and envious body. “You know everyone will be staring at you no matter what if you wear that.” I laugh. “Those legs are going to be the headliner for that party.”
Tristan winked at me and continued adding more accessories to her ever-growing ensemble. “That my dear naïve British friend is the goal of this outfit.” She dropped to her knees faster than I could pry open the antibiotic wrapper. Gripping onto my hand she pulled me away from my mission to rid the world of the swirling furniture before my very eyes. “Y/N, if you do not go, I will literally never talk to you ever again.”
I raised my eyebrow at the sight before me. “Is that a promise.” I bravely say.
“Y/N! Please!”
“Fine alright. Give me five minutes.” I surrender, using every ounce of strength that I had left to lift myself from my comfy nest. “But you owe me, big time.” Tristan’s arms were around my neck faster than I could respond. Her soft lips that I am sure Steph adores, pressed against my forehead.
“I love you so much Miss Y/L/N!” She squealed.
I let out a stiff laugh as I saunter off to the bathroom to sort whatever state I currently appeared to be in.
***
“You know, when you said that this was going to be a cool night for us both? When did I factor into the equation?” I scoff, lifting the red solo cup to my lips. The bitter taste made my stomach curl, but what was worse was not drinking around all these over-the-top drunk people.
Tristan was straddling Steph on the sofa by the side of me. These two did not understand the true definition of PDA and why some people may find it uncomfortable. Including myself.
I inch further down the sofa that was unsurprisingly very sticky. If I wasn’t feeling queasy when I turned up, I certainly felt it now. I try to distract myself from the fact that I had to peel my legs from the leather material just to cross them. The sound was very unflattering.
“Why are you in my seat?” I roll my eyes the minute I recognised the irritating voice that filled me with angst and hatred from across the room. Molly Samuels. Her whole presence just irritates me, and it appears that I am not the only one with this response. I gaze over to my left to see Tessa shaking her head at the general distaste she had for the girl. I lift my cup up to Tessa who shyly mimics. ‘To stuck up bitches, ay?’ I say to myself, quietly so that she couldn’t hear.
Molly pushed Zed Evans and his girlfriend for the night out of her shitty throne causing his date to land hard on her arse. I am sure it wasn’t the first time that Molly has done this to declare her ‘power’ to the whole room. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” The blonde cried as Zed attempted to pick her up from the floor which was soaked in alcohol.
“Does this brat literally think she can talk to me right now?” Molly scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Turning to her so-called friends for approval of her comment and actions.
“What did you just call me?” The poor young girl shook off Zed’s protective arm and stepped right in front of Molly’s nose. Probably not the best move, but I have always found that Molly needed taking down a peg or two.
“You heard me, loud and clear” She popped her tongue on the letter ‘l’ in loud. “A little slutty brat who thinks for a second that Zed will call her back after he fucks her tonight.” Molly’s teeth were snarling almost like a wild animal.
“At least I’m not a bitchy whore who thinks that everyone here is her friend.” There were a couple ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ almost as if we were at a panto and not a college party after Zed’s girl’s response.
The second Molly let the words register her hand was leaving that poor girl’s cheek, along with a bright red handprint in its place.
“What the fuck, Molly!” I heard the words clear as day, but I never in a million years imagined that they would come from my mouth. But there I was, standing right in front of Molly, shielding the young girl from another blast to the face.
I could hear people whispering behind my back. ‘What is she doing?’ ‘Is she stupid or something?’ ‘Does she not know what Molly is like?’ Despite being close friends with Tristan, I never would have expected her to step up to defend me, especially when Molly Samuels was involved. She stayed on Steph’s lap; eyes bugged open. Utterly frozen.
“Wow Y/N? Get involved in other people’s business much? Just because your life is too sad, you feel like you can insert yourself into other people’s.” I roll my eyes at her pathetic attempt to rattle me. “You’re just a sad little virgin that no body wants around. Tristan only invited you tonight for her own benefit. Just look around, you don’t fit in here.”
I stay silent. I may have only spoken up once tonight, but that was enough for me. Frat parties are my least favourite place to be. The only reason I came here tonight was for Tristan. I should have left the minute she started making out with the red-haired beauty.
“Cat got your tongue now, bitch.” Molly’s face was inches from mine and I choked on the strong aroma of alcohol on her breath. “Oh, wait I forgot, the girl doesn’t own a backbone.” There were a few stifled laughs here and there. Zed stayed silent, as did Tristan and Steph. None of them making the effort to stand up for me. “Let me guess. Tristan batted her big eyes at you and begged you to come tonight, didn’t she? Then ditched you the moment someone prettier came into the picture.”
I gulp back the bile that I knew had risen to the back of my throat. “Why don’t you go back to your dorm. Oh, better yet, get on a fucking plane and fly back to shitty England. We could only get lucky and hope the thing crashes with you inside it.”
“That’s enough Molly!” The voice behind me held a British twang similar to my own. A voice I had only heard about but never actually seen. The bad boy, Hardin Scott.
Hardin Scott was attractive. Since I got here, I knew he was the talk of the college. Everybody knew who he was and that he wasn’t good news. His white shirt displayed his various tattoos clearly through the thin and tight fabric. His black hair was pushed back to show his piercing eyes and anger set eyebrows. His eyes never left Molly who was stood behind me.
“Oh, Hardin you know I am only messing with the virgin.” She forces a small laugh. “It’s not like I can control the planes is it.” Her head tilts to the side as her gaze locks onto mine, only to intimidate. “I mean I wish I could.” She muttered so that only the people stood around her could hear.
“Do you ever know when to stop!” Hardin barks, not acknowledging me physically. “Do you ever think that you’re the one that people don’t want around?” He questions, moving slowly across the room. I hadn’t noticed but the volume of the once booming music had been lowered to a slight hum in the background.
Hardin was now stood right beside me glaring down at Molly who mimicked his stance. “Ding Ding. Come on guys let’s just drop it!” Nate calls over when he noticed their glares on each other were far from breaking.
Molly was the first to move. “You’re right Nate.” She coos. “Let’s play a game.” She scans the room of her so-called posy who all appeared to be done with her shit for the night. “It’s Friday night. We need to play a game. I will even let the little virgin here play along, too.”
I am very aware that all the eyes were now back on me.
This wasn’t something that I wanted to be a part of. It took me what felt like an eternity to move my feet across the room to where Tristan was sitting. “I am going to head back to the dorms.” I declare quietly to her, but I can tell that they are all listening.
“No please stay, it won’t be the same if you go.” Tristan reaches for my hand which I pull away.
I don’t know why I am letting Molly’s words sink in so much. Everybody who knows her knows that she is full of herself and couldn’t give a shit who she hurts.
“No, it’s late.” It was only nine. “And I have assignments that are due.” I lie, they are all finished. “I’ll see you back at the dorm.”
I start towards the door but I can hear Tristan calling after me to stay.
As I reach the front door to the frat house, I hear Molly’s voice loud and clear. “So, Hardin truth or dare?”
***
The walk back to the dorms was anything but peaceful. The cars were loud and honking at me as they passed. Classy.
I reach for my phone in my bag. I could do with tuning out the world for this half hour walk back in the dark. But my fingers only find a vibrant red lipstick that I couldn’t pull off in a million years.
I stop dead in my tracks. This was Steph’s bag; I grabbed the wrong one during my never-ending embarrassment.
I couldn’t go back, but I couldn’t go further either. Where was I supposed to go, Steph’s key wasn’t in here so it’s not like I could sleep in her room for the night. No cash, key or phone meant that I had no other choice. I had to suck it up and go back.
“Fuuuck!” I shout, not caring that I startled an elderly woman who was placing a rubbish bag in her bin just outside her front door.
“Not a very ladylike thing to say.” I hear a mocking chuckle behind me causing me to jump out of my skin.
When I turn around, I am greeted by the tall British bad boy covered in ink standing about 6 foot in front of me.
His head cocks to the side when I don’t answer him. “You don’t say much, do you?” My eyes scan over his attire, black ripped jeans, white top, and a jet-black leather jacket. “But you do stare a lot, don’t you?” That British chuckle makes it’s second appearance tonight.
“What do you want?” I blurt out, shaking my head at the fact that I was indeed caught staring at the boy.
He steps a little closer to me, closing the gap between us ever so slowly. I watch in amazement at how sexy he makes walking look. “You left this at the party.” I hadn’t realised that he had extended his hand to reveal a clutch bag. My clutch bag.
“Oh!” I speak. “Thanks.” I take the bag from him and prepare myself for the walk back.
“Don’t take any notice of Molly. She is a bitch.”
“Yep.” I chip in, turning to walk back towards the college dorm rooms.
I only get a few steps ahead when I feel a cold sensation wrap around my bare arm. Why the fuck didn’t I bring a coat? I gaze down at the hand that is pressed to my skin. “Where are you going?” He softly says. His tone and action were not at all forceful but something about him made me shiver with fear deep inside the pit of my stomach. I was warned about Hardin Scott. Tristan said that he wasn’t exactly good news around her group of friends. Acting with his fists before connecting his words, that’s what she said at least.
“H-Home.” I stutter, half from the interaction, half from how fucking cold it was. I straighten up. “I am going home.”
“Alone?” He jumps in straight away.
I don’t answer. I just look back at his hand around my arm.
“S-sorry.” He stutters, removing his hand from my arm. “It’s just it’s a long way back to the dorms and it is late.”
I shrug my shoulders at his declaration. “I know.” I simply say and start to walk again but I am blocked by the gorgeous boy standing in front of me. “Oh fuck, you’re not going to kill me, are you?”
“No of course not!” He blurts.
“Good! Now could you” I gesture to the fact that he is stood directly in my path. He catches on to my hint and steps aside.
“You’re not going to walk there alone, are you?” His voice sounding desperate.
I spin and mockingly look around for people, lifting my hand to shield my eyes as I continue my search. This provokes a choked sigh from Hardin. Once I am satisfied with my ‘search’ I say “yep” and continue to walk.
“But it is late.” He chimes in again walking backwards trying desperately not to break my gaze as I try desperately to avoid his. “And you’re alone.”
“Yes, we have established this.” I mock, glaring at the stoned pavement or sidewalk ahead of me.
Hardin reaches both hands out in front of himself creating a wall which stops me from taking another step. “What is your problem?”
I take a step back, alarmed at his outburst. “My problem. You’re the one who has continuously blocked my way for the past ten minutes.” I bark. I try to move around him but he doesn’t budge, copying my actions to stay ahead of me.
“I am trying to offer my services.” Hardin exclaimed but then scowled at his choice of words. I too have a hard time accepting the word ‘services.’ Just as I go to argue he opens his mouth. “Fuck that’s not what I meant to say.” His hands instantly dart to push his hair back out of his face. A nervous tick I assume. What did he have to be nervous about? He is the one stalking after college girls at half 9 at night.
“Look can we start over?” He offers shoving his hands into his jacket. My arms promptly raise to cover my bare arms where goosebumps have started to form. Why didn’t I bring a jacket? “Could I possibly walk you back to the dorms?” His eyes dropped to the ground to stare at a pebble that he toyed with his shoe. Was he anxious?
“Why?” I question fairly quickly.
“I just want to make sure that you get back safe!” His tone wasn’t very friendly. I cock my head to one side. “Sorry, that came out bad.” His tone softening. “I just didn’t like the way that Molly spoke to you earlier and I also hate the fact that you would be walking back in this sketchy neighbourhood alone.”
“Fine.”
***
We walk all the way back to the dorms in silence. Hardin looked uncomfortable the entire time as if he were being forced to be here. I sure as hell did not make him.
I pull the key from my bag and slot it into the lock on the door. Pushing the door slightly open I stand with my arms still draped across my shivering body in the doorway. “Well, thanks for walking me back and bringing me my bag.”
Hardin didn’t budge. His eyes were locked on my body, traveling from my legs to my face. His face turned a shade of white when his eyes caught up to mine. “Fuck!” He announced.
“What!” I jump at his sudden change in demeaner.
“Your lips.” He gestures to my trembling lips that haven’t stopped shaking since I stepped outside of the frat house. “They are fucking blue!” Panic surges over him as he rakes his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?” He started passing back and fourth in front of me.
“There wasn’t much you could do.” I counter. “My own stupid fault for not bringing a coat.”
I walk inside the room and grab a jacket and throw it on over my shaking body. Hardin enters after me and grabs my hand carefully. “Fuck lot that will do.” He picks up a towel and drags me back down the hallway.
I try to pull my arm back but it is no use. “Where the hell are you taking me?” I say a little too loud. Silently cursing myself if I may have woken up any of the other students living down this dorm.
“The showers now come on.” He tugs a little harder as his feet guide me towards the shared bathroom just a few floors down from my own.
As we reach the bathroom, Hardin throws the towel over the railing and reaches in to turn on the water. I couldn’t help but watch his every move. “Get in!” He cries. Gesturing to the box that was filling with tempting hot steam.
I hesitate. “Y/N, get in the fucking shower.” I jump, not at his tone. But at the fact that he used my name. How did he even know it? Oh right, he was at the party when Molly was insulting me. “If you don’t start undressing now, I will have to start doing it for you.”
I raise an eyebrow but decline his offer, stepping into the box and pulling the curtain across to shield my naked body.
***
Hardin was right, I needed that shower. I hadn’t realised how cold I had gotten from that walk home. I stood in that shower for what felt like half the evening.
I shut off the water and begin to pull the curtain slightly across so that I could reach for the towel that Hardin had placed on the rail when Hardin’s hand slips through holding the towel between his fingers.
“Thanks.” I mutter, draping it around my soaking body.
I step out to find that Hardin’s hair has dropped and started to stick to his forehead in places from the steam. His eyes dart up and down my body, quietly.
I am the first one to break the silence as we stand there in the shared bathroom. “So, I should um, probably get back to my room.”
I watch as Hardin lets my words break him from his still stance. “Yeah, um, after you.” He holds his arm out and follows me out of the bathroom. Something has shifted in Hardin. Tonight, I have seen him; angry, intimidating, shy, solemness and lost for words. It was a lot to take in during a short period of time.
I open the dorm door and step inside. When I hear the door shut, I jump and almost drop the towel. “Shit, sorry I didn’t mean for the door to shut so loudly.” He curses under his breath.
“It’s okay.” I mutter. I cling to the towel as I stare back at Hardin who hasn’t moved or made any effort to leave.
“Y/N?” Hardin’s voice softer than ever tonight, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What do you mean?” My words coming out slowly. His head dropped to face the floor. Was he trying to count the flecks of glitter on the carpet from Tristan’s body butter or something?
“Why didn’t you say that you were cold?” I roll my eyes, this again. Crossing my arms over my stomach.
“Like I said, there wasn’t anything you could have-”
“I could have given you my jacket.” He interjects. Taking a step closer to me. His body was merely a foot away from mine.
“But then you would have been the one with the blue lips.” I counter. Tilting my head to the side in a modest challenging manner.
This stirred something within Hardin, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I know that he isn’t used to a woman not agreeing with every word that comes out of his mouth.
I suddenly shake my head as I feel a slight chill spread up my back. I am still in my towel and now I am very much aware of that. Quickly I turn away from his locked-on gaze.
“Can I have some privacy please.” I mumble, not able to turn around to face him. “I need to, uh, get changed.” I add.
Hardin lets out a small grunt but eventually I do hear the click of my dorm-room door close. I don’t know why but I feel a shed of disappointment at the fact that he listened and actually left.
It takes my hands what feels like hours to release the tight grip that I held on to the towel. Allowing it to fall onto the floor.
“You know what-” I hear the click of the door and his voice fill my ears. I jump from my spot in the middle of the room. He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead Hardin slams the door behind him. “Fuck!” His eyes firm but glued on my body.
I quickly try to grab the towel up off the floor, but it is no use. Hardin instantly placed his foot over the soggy material. “Don’t.” He lets that one word fall from his lips as he slowly continues to decrease the distance between us.
“Hardin!” I shout. “Give-” I can’t finish my argument as I find his finger is placed over the top of my lips.
Hardin doesn’t speak, he just shakes his head. His soft hand moves from my lips and trails off to my cheek, holding me in place. My eyes locked onto his own, frozen in place. I watch as his eyes bounce from my own to my lips, seeking permission. His other hand snaked its way around and laid itself on the small of my back, pulling my naked body closer to his.
I was completely thrown off by the audacity of my body responding to his touch, bringing me to him. Everything happened in slow motion from the second we were back in my room. I knew that Hardin was trouble, everybody did. But no one actually prepares you for a moment like this. Where you are stood in front of a gorgeous guy whose whole attention you own. Did I say he was gorgeous?
I shake my head breaking the eye contact trance I was in. “Har-”
“You’re so beautiful.” He interrupts, breaking right through the barrier I was desperately trying to build. Correction, he shattered the wall to pieces and I find myself pushing my lips aggressively against his, hungry for the contact.
It takes him a second to return the haste in my actions within his own. Moving his lips to mimic the speed that I had set for him. It took no time at all for that jacket that he kept holding over me for not taking since we got back to the room to be thrown onto the floor, revealing the crisp white T-shirt underneath.
His hand wandered lower to lay slightly above my bare arse. While my hands slithered up underneath his shirt. Desperate to feel the skin underneath and to trace the ink that it held. The hand that rested on my cheek now held tightly to the back of my neck making it impossible to break the kiss, not that I wanted to.
I could stay like this forever, kissing Hardin has awoken something inside me that I didn’t even know existed. This overwhelming hunger for his contact. I tug a little on the hair on the back of his head which in response summoned a deep growl from Hardin that I didn’t think I was prepared to hear. Any sense of doubt that we should stop kissing left my mind the second I heard that sound.
“Y/N? You would not believe what you missed after-” Tristan stood in the open doorway, her mouth held open just as wide.
Fuck. I jump back from Hardin and scramble for the towel, concealing my naked form from my roommate. I look over to Hardin who didn’t look at all affected by the events in the last ten seconds.
“I can tell your busy so I will just, yeah.” Tristan steps back and shuts the door behind her.
I run into the closet and quickly throw on a set of underwear and a long-oversized shirt that came down to lie just beneath my arse. “I think it’s about time I start locking that door.” I joke as I step through the closet door.
My eyes roam the room for the handsome boy I was just making out with only to be greeted with an empty room. My shoulders fall, “I guess that’s goodbye.” I mumble, trying my best to hold myself together. Locking the door before falling onto my bed.
Part 2?
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forever-rogue · 3 years
Note
For the 390 prompts, how about #381 “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” with Catfish... My devil side want to make it angst but it's totaly up to you 😭 🌱
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It’s angst hours, baby!
Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: language
MASTERLIST
FRANKIE MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Hey,” Santi slipped into your abandoned stool at the bar next to Frankie. You were all at the bar for weekly get together, but Frankie had noticed you seemed down from the moment you walked in. He was attuned to you, very much so from years of being your closest friend, but it hadn’t taken much to see that you were upset. Your lips barely managed to curve into a smile, and your eyes had a heavy tiredness behind them, despite your best efforts to appear happy, “you heard about what happened, right? With Bee?”
“I...no? She hasn’t said anything to me,” his brows knitted together in confusion as he downed the rest of his beer. A sense of worry settled into his bones at your behavior; it was so strange and unlike you, “w-what happened?”
“Mark,” Santi dramatically rolled his eyes at Frankie before flagging the bartender over for another round of drinks; it seemed like you could all use it. Rage boiled in his blood at the sound of the name; he’d hated Mark from the day the two men had met. It wasn’t just because he was the man that had won over your affections, although that was definitely a large part of it, but because after a while it was clear that he was genuinely an asshole. He wasn’t good, or good to you, but for some reason you’d never seen that. You ended up putting up with so much shit that you’d normally never take from anyone else. Frankie’s grasp around his empty bottle was so tight it was a surprise it didn’t shatter into little pieces, “he cheated on her...she finally dumped him.”
“He cheated on her? That fucking asshole,” Frankie almost jumped out of his spot as every bad thing he wanted to do to the man that broke your heart bubbled up, “I will-”
“She found them together,” Santi put his hand on Frankie’s arm to calm him down, “and apparently he still tried to make it seem like her fault. She’s really upset, Fish. Don’t make things worse right now. I know - we all know - how you feel about her. Give her time and space.”
“I’m her best friend,” he huffed as he slid out of his spot, “I need to be there for her. I’ll just...I’ll make sure she’s okay. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me...:”
“Why do you think, Fish?” Santi cocked a brow at his friend before letting out a long sigh, “she knows you’ve always hated him. She doesn’t want you to do anything stupid and get yourself into trouble. She loves you too, you know. Even if she doesn’t realize that.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Everyone knows it,” Santi was amused at how blind the both of you could be at times, “it’s so obvious to everyone...except perhaps the two of you. The way you look at each other, how you act...that shit ain’t just friends shit. You both know it.”
“Then why did she date Mark? For almost two years and waste that time on him?” Frankie grew frustrated as he slid off the stool and hit the dirty floor of the bar with a dull thud, “why wouldn’t she say anything to me?”
“Why haven’t you ever said anything to her?”
“I don’t want to lose Bee,” he pulled off his old, batted cap and hand a hand through his curls in frustration, before slapping it back on his head, “I’d rather keep her as my friend forever than face a life without her.”
“There’s your answer.”
“I’ve got to see her,” he insisted, brushing past Santi, “I have to let her know.”
“Don’t - give her time and space,” Santi grabbed his arm and insisted, “don’t push her just because he’s gone. She’s hurt and been through a lot. Be her friend and let things happen on their own.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Frankie snapped as he pulled out of Santi’s grasp and headed to the back of the bar, where he’d seen you step outside and disappear a little bit earlier.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You were pacing around with your phone pressed to your ear as you tried to keep it together and not break down into another fit of tears and sadness. The whole day had seemed like a blur, one painful, horrible nightmare and you just wanted it to be over. You just wanted to sleep and wake up and have no memory of anything. Perhaps not even the last two years.
“I can’t believe he did that to you,” your sister sounded as incredulous as you felt, “you’ve been so good to him, more than he deserves honestly, and for him to do that? Asshole. I am so, so sorry for what he did to you, babes.”
“Me too,” was all you could choke out as your lips trembled with effort not to cry. You looked at the inky black sky, dotted with glittering stars as you tried to ground yourself.
“At least you’ve got the guys with you. If he does or says anything, you know they’ve got your back,” she reminded you, causing you to experience a momentary pause of peace, “and now you can finally tell Frankie how you feel.”
“No,” you insisted firmly as Frankie stepped outside, quiet as a mouse as he tried not to interrupt. He hadn’t meant to be sneaky and listen in, truly, but now that he was there, he couldn’t stop himself, “I’m not telling him anything.”
“You love him! You’ve been in love with him for what? Almost six years?” she scoffed at the other end of line, “you have to tell him how you feel, now is the time. He’s not...he’s not to wait for you forever. If you love him, let him know.”
“I don’t,” you lied thickly, steeling your nerves as you bit back bile. It was hard to lie; especially when it came to Frankie. He was everything you were not: good, gentle, pure, loving. He didn’t deserve to have you dragging him down. He deserved the world - something you felt you could never give him. He would be so much better off without you, no matter how much you actually loved him. 
“You’re such a liar!” she insisted as you groaned, “the two of you are in love! You’re just blind fools, scared to get hurt.”
“No!” you shouldn't have called her, you should have just gone home and cried yourself to sleep like you had planned on, “I don’t love him! I don’t love Frankie. He’s nothing but a friend and he’ll never be anything else!”
Frankie’s breath hitched in his throat as he listened to your angry tirade. He must have heard wrong...surely you hadn’t meant it, right? Santi had said...everyone had told him….he loved you. But...you didn’t love him? He needed to get out of there and fast; he left like he was going to be sick. But as he turned on his heel, he almost slipped on a rock and made a small sound of surprise. 
You froze in fear at the sound, realizing for the first time that you weren’t alone at all. Your sister was still babbling away at you, calling you a liar as you turned around and found Frankie, frozen in fear as he tried to get back inside. You swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what had happened; he had heard your blatant denial of love. The lie you wish you’d never spewed. Ending the call without a word, you stepped closer to him as his own eyes appeared glossy with tears.
“Oh Frankie,” your voice cracked as more tears rolled down your cheeks. Could this day really have gotten that much worse? You wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole, “you weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“I wish I hadn’t,” he admitted quietly, “I came to look for you, to make sure you were okay. Santi told me what happened.”
“Frankie, it was a lie,” you might as well tell him the truth now. There was nothing left to lose at this point, and he deserved to know the truth finally, “I was talking to my sister and it was all a lie. I didn’t mean it. I-I do love you-”
“You don’t need to lie to me now to spare my feelings,” he stared at the ground before slowly opening the door to the bustling bar back open, “if that’s how you feel it’s how you feel. I just...I should have known better. I was the fool, not you.”
“Francisco, don’t go,” you darted towards him but he was already inside and weaving his way through the crowd, barely acknowledging your friends as he made to leave, “Frankie! Frankie! Don’t do - don’t walk away. It was a lie to get her off my back and because I….”
“Because what?” he turned around, and the look on his face was enough to break your heart then and there. His cheeks were already tear stained and his eyes were nothing but hurt, as you struggled to find the right words. After a few beats of tense silence, he shrugged, “I’ll see you around, Bee. Eventually...I just need some time to deal with my own feelings. I’m sorry I thought there could ever be more between us.”
“Francisco,” his name was a pitiful whimper as you watched him get into his truck and start, leaving without hesitation. Your hands flew to your face as you stood there in panic, “what have I done?”
“Bee?” Benny came up behind you, confused as he looked between you and the spot Frankie was previously parked in, “what happened? Is everything alright?”
“I think I just fucked everything up,” you admitted as you let him pull you into a hug, “I think I just lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“He’ll come around,” Benny promised, although it felt hollow, “it’s Fish. You know he will.”
“I hope so,” you cried, “I sure hope so.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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petalsmooth · 3 years
Text
Ok.
Let’s talk Lili.
First off we only know what stars put out about themselves or other people say about them. We are not friends with these people. We are not in their homes. We don’t usually hear what they say in unguarded conversation. What we know is what is out on social media with some highly distorted soundbites from chats or DM’s with her mother that were exposed.
We were initially presented a portrait pushed by her and her family no less of a middle class family with the standard girl next door hit it big narrative. Down to earth, relatable, somewhat quirky. Strong two parent supportive household. All that was missing were the apron and pearls.
This girl came out of the gates talking about a modernized Riverdale with two girls who would be actually close and not vying for the same redhead. Feel free to add/or correct along the way of course...especially early on when not following as closely.
We got very little in the way of insight into Cole and Lili because they were trying to keep it quiet even if there were hints together. Mostly during this period what fans were fed was that she was slightly awkward socially, maybe not the most intellectual but nice and harmless. She spoke of empowering women, independence, she constantly shut down the idea of Barchie and praised Bughead. Along through the year’s she would speak to social bullying or bullying in general. She would openly talk about struggles with mental health. She’d talk and show her cystic acne and share photos not all airbrushed in ode to body positivity. She’d talk about not having an hourglass figure, and cellulite and often go out in ratty shorts and a bun sans makeup. You see she’d talk about it then follow through by showing lived the walk or calling out photoshops done of her.
Again this is “relatable girl next door quirky Lili” we told was the REAL Lili.
She would frequently talk and post about her family and dogs at home and how much she loved and missed them...though oddly not so much her older sister.
At a certain point it became undeniable Cole and Lili were together to even the hardest deniers. Of course also the Met gala eventually made official for media.
We get have her liking posts such as Miley’s about how lucky she was to have a man who checked off all the boxes. But at times there were glimpses all wasn’t kosher. People have mentioned various cons where she’d be caught flirting somewhere else, or she’d be in a bad mood giving Cole a cold shoulder. We recently saw an old video of them walking and her basically demanding he drop the fans and attend her. We have the con were Camilla is sexually harassing Cole everywhere and Lili doesn’t shut it down until Camilla tries to grind on him. It was so bad even Mads intervened. We have the interview where she is talking over him or rolling her eyes and basically being the unprofessional brat her fans claim she is not. Even though it’s ON CAMERA. Snapping at your co worker/boyfriend and rolling your eyes during a professional interview is not deniable.
Flashforward to the trip to Italy because for me there was always something off about that. That trip was obviously planned far in advance. Clearly Lili was supposed to be there. Her fans quickly blamed Cole because Lili was working. Lili didn’t have to work. It wasn’t a career changing move to do that film. It did not do well. I’m not entirely sure what was happening around that time but I have the sense Cole was disappointed/a  little angry she prioritized it over him accepting very likely the offer AFTER the trip was planned.
Lili spirals during this time. Cole comes back to clean up mess. They are quiet on social media for a long time then slowly emerge again and eventually get the photo booth shots, the wedding and her mingling with NY friends for once. Turns out close to the end for them.
I don’t want to make this a Sprousehart post though although some relevance to bring part of it up. The point is Lili put her career over her relationship. It was a calculated decision. It was also the wrong decision. Her fans talk about her being this warm giving person but that was a cynical call and a pretty lousy thing to do to your boyfriend of several year’s. I’m all for supportive partners but there are time’s where you make sacrifices if you really care for someone and this was a special trip planned long in advance. She blew it off. If I’m the partner she does this too, I question why I’m putting in the effort if it doesn’t mean to them what it means to me. 
TBH I think the bad choices she made there is why tried to make it up by meeting with his friends, the wedding etc...
Something than clearly happened because by January they were done. Not sure we’ll ever know but it looked like they were trying to fix things given the happiness hadn’t seen on Cole’s faces in a long time in those booth pics and then...it was done. We didn’t know at the time, but this is timeline Cole gave. There was a brief attempt at reconciliation where she babysits him at a photo shoot and posts a photo of them in bed and then shortly after...Cole calls it off. 
He heads to LA, she follows him there but not without making sure to shove Casey’s face into her chest to post and rent a place close to where he is staying. She posts weepy messages about the world ending etc....and weird new photos mimicking old shoots with him so naturally people think this means whatever happened they worked through. Around same time she and hers manipulated her fans to try to cancel him earlier because she misunderstood a picture of Kaia....although flat out if he had been with Kaia he was SINGLE and it was no longer her business.
She tries to walk back the firestorm she unleashed on him by “defending” him from a lesser twitter trend after realizing misconstrued the Kaia picture, All summer she weirdly seems to be trying to avoid the topic if they are together or not despite saying once if they weren’t she’d tell people. She finally puts her foot in her mouth one two many times' and Cole confirms they broke up which she doesn’t acknowledge. Because she doesn’t want to be broken up.
As we know know it wasn’t all rainbows on the set even before all this happened as in the musical she’d launched an object at him hard enough to have the crew concerned. Lili fans keep saying Cole is abusive but the only evidence we have of abuse is her towards him. We also had her suddenly doing a 180 from past 4 year’s and excusing cheating with Archie and promoting everyone in her live recaps except Cole/Jughead.
Back to the events following Cole’s post....then we get a sudden string of interviews taking shots at Cole, doxxing him, implying he could have strayed (just to resurrect hate against him) but can’t say he actually did because she has no proof. We know this because in those chats admit it was just suspicion and paranoia and never did have any names.
We learn that Lili has been funneling news and gossip and photos to keep her mother’s hold on the fandom in check and her mother in turn has been bullying people who would stand on Cole’s side. They sought to ruin him. This is not debatable.
For year’s people had made fun and called Bree out for being an obsessive stalker unable to let a relationship go, then Lili starts doing the same. We know she has tried to copy Ari’s style, her mother made a snide comment about breast size, Lili tried to taunt Ari from on set and Ari shut her down. A girl who almost never was in the line of sight of paps suddenly is snapped everyday following break up even before the public new. That doesn’t just happen. She wanted the attention.
I’m not going to go into all of it, you all know it. Suffice to say revealing she has a bitter vindictive attitude she has submersed herself in ever since Cole made it clear no reunion. She won’t even broach the topic of Bughead/Jughead unless forced. You can spin all you like but the split screens was not an artistic choice by RD. It was spurred by need to keep them apart.
Lili last summer was doing precious little other than a post or two of Black Lives matter and then when Cole gets arrested suddenly she jumps on the me too and sets up impulsive lives. Maybe she meant well but a part of me thinks she did it to attract his attention. Notice once she got praise for it and the initial protests faded she more or less doesn’t bring it up anymore. Cole never intended to get attention, it just happened because he’s a star and got taken in to a jail cell. He never put himself on camera for notice. 
Lili also co-opts the murder of a girl to flaunt she thinks she looks good naked. Completely tone deaf. 
Lili very rarely is seen in fan photos, only usually when she’s getting flack for it online. She, a girl who talks about bullying, went on a  midnight tirade against a guy who dares to critique or poetry setting her fans on him. Then deleted it probably because publicist in her ear.
She first said poems not about Cole, than said you could read into what you wanted to sell them. Now she doesn’t want to talk poetry or sequels because it flopped and was critically panned.
There are constant rumors about Lili on sets of productions to point they even had someone on her newer movie try to downplay. Yet we see in a video the cast barely talking and looking tense on a boat. 
The girl who used to talk about body positivity now lets them airbrush abs onto her.
The girl who used to talk of therapy and mental illness now promotes OTC supplements for $ and cults.
If she mentions cellulite she uses other tik toks of people showing not her own. 
She said she would never be on tik tok, yet now has her own and post old videos that aren’t funny.
Lili once tired to attack Cole by talking about losing yourself in drugs or alcohol or sex yet we’ve seen her drug paraphernalia because she advertises. Her friends post and laugh over her being drunk. She was in an off and on relationship with Wallis that doesn’t seem to be about anything but sex.
We were told Coles friends are bad influences but Taylor is out there solicitating questionable clients and making videos slamming LILI’S COWORKER as a bad actor and his brother,
The majority of Lili’s posts no longer feature Sunny or her family/Addy. 
She insulted Vancouver, compared to a prison, and made it clear her creature comforts were of more importance than a pandemic. Not quite the attitude of an empath. Which she claims she is with intention to be a master which require sucking more gullible people into the cult.
She brags about being a “rich man” without understand the context. She went from artistic photos to modeling pinups to fuel her lack of self esteem.
She’s in her mid 20′s, claims she had grown and matured in the last year but there is no evidence of it. Still can’t work with her ex without buffers which still influences show direction though her fans deny.. Still lives off junk food and hangovers. Those glasses aren’t just for sun. Her timeline is mostly an ode to her vanity with pictures of herself and then her dog. She doesn’t seem to have any causes she’s deeply involved in on the side apart from her cult. She’s still stalking Cole as her impulsive makeup tutorial showed. She said she cut out of her life anyone who doesn’t service her. I highly doubt she is receiving quality therapy on the regular right now. She still does not seem to possess the ability to own her mistakes and apologize when warranted, rather deflects or erases when heat becomes too hot.
The content she puts out about herself post break up is very different than the bill of goods fans were sold before. She is a far cry from that quirky girl next door that stood FOR something more than vanity and shallow affirmation. So no, I don’t see what you see in her stans. Everything that once seemed to distinguish her from other spoilt princesses has long faded. 
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Text
Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)
The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.
genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe)  words: 3.5k
a/n: ah the sweet sweet smell of mutual pining. also 3 more chapters are planned, not written yet though bc i just decided i’d be writing them lmao. hopefully can get started on that this weekend and post them next week 🤗
taglist:  @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie @oikawasbooty @chocolate3010 @sugawarabby @greenyiplier @kritiiiii @tokyosdawn @youstydiaa @h3llok1ttygirl 
one | two 
Chapter Three
“You want me to help you with what?” You ask, a bit stunned when he showed up at the door, a terribly annoying but also cute pleading expression on his face.
He groans, his shoulders hunching forward in exasperation. “Ya really gunna make me repeat it?”
You peer closer at the top of his head and see that he’s being serious. The roots of his hair growing in are a dark brown and it had never even occurred to you that he dyes his hair the blonde color you’re so used to. “No, but why do you need my help?”
This is so embarrassing. Normally his roommate or a teammate can help him but none of them are available today and he’s already let the roots grow longer than he likes. But when one of them suggested you help him out instead, something inside him rebelled. For some reason, the thought of having you dye his hair for him made him uncomfortable, like he’s showing you an intimate part of him. This hair has been a part of him so long he can’t remember the last time he’d let it grow out.
“I can’t see if I got everything,” he admits. It took a lot of pacing around his room and staring at his roots for him to get up the courage to come over here to ask you. He can’t really explain why he was so against it, especially since you don’t seem to mind after you got over the initial shock of realizing this isn’t his natural hair.
A wave of relief washes over him when you sigh, conceding, “Alright. Just let me change into something I can get bleach on. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”
While he waits for you, he busies himself with mixing the dye together so it’s ready for you, and when you arrive in a t-shirt and shorts with paint splatters all over them, he mentally kicks himself for thinking about how even wearing something so simple you still look better than anyone he’s ever seen. Crossing your arms, you motion for him to take a seat at his desk. Before he does so, he reaches behind his neck to grab at the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head.
You stand there dumbfounded for a moment, it taking you a second to process that he’s now standing before you shirtless and you’re free to ogle his muscular chest and arms to your hearts content. He doesn’t pay any attention to you, knowing if he meets your gaze, he won’t be able to stop the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. Instead, he wraps a towel around his waist to protect his shorts and sits in the chair to wait for you.  
Except now, you have free reign to stare at his back, which is just as defined as the front of him and you need a few more seconds to reel your thoughts back.
“Whaddya waitin’ for darling?” He drawls, throwing you a glance over his shoulder, not expecting you to be standing there frozen, eyes pinned to his now bare chest.
He opens his mouth to tease you further, but your eyes snap to his and you practically shout, “Do you have another towel?” He just cocks a brow and then points to his closet where another towel is hanging on a hook. Snatching it, you return to him and drape it over his shoulders, hiding most of his annoyingly toned body. “Don’t want to get any bleach on your skin,” you explain, no way in hell ever admitting to him that you’re finding it hard to focus with him on display like that.
Absentmindedly, he hands you one of the clips he bought a long time ago, one that’s almost completely bleached itself and you start running your fingers through his hair to section it. He closes his eyes, focusing intently on the soothing sensation of your fingers on his scalp, doing his best not to groan out loud at how good it feels. With anyone else, this isn’t anything special, normally he sits as patiently as he can whilst trying not to annoy whoever is doing his hair (lest they decide to ‘mess up’ as punishment). But with you, it’s a different feeling entirely.
It's jarringly intimate as you clip his hair back and reach over him to grab the plastic gloves that came with the dye. Lathering up the applicator brush, you start slathering it onto his hair, trying your hardest to make sure it’s evenly distributed and surrounding each strand. As you do so, you ask, “How long have you been doing this?”
He resists the urge to shrug, not wanting to jostle you, replying, “Osamu and I started in middle school.”
“Osamu dyes his hair too?”
“Yeah, he goes for gray. But I’d heard blondes have more fun so—here we are.”
He grits his teeth as your fingers skim over his scalp, glad for the towel you wrapped around him to hide the goosebumps skittering along his bare skin.
“Let me guess,” you muse. “You guys did it because people couldn’t tell you apart?”
“That,” he laughs, “And we thought it would look cool. The first time we did it, it looked like shit.”
Your answering laugh warms his heart as you unclip a section of hair and keep working. “I can’t imagine your mom being too happy about it.”
“Livid. We got bleach everywhere.”
You laugh, continuing to move through his hair methodically. It doesn’t take very long as you’re just dying his roots and they weren’t that bad to begin with, contrary to what Atsumu thinks. When you finish, he gives you a sheepish look and has to swallow his pride to ask you to help him wash it out. Every time he’s tried to do it himself, he always ends up leaving a huge chunk of bleach somewhere.
You oblige, following him to the bathroom, not bothering to care about the looks you get along the way. If they want to stare at a shirtless Atsumu and then glare at you for having that all to yourself, that’s their prerogative. It does wonders for your confidence, regardless that all of this is a ruse.
Luckily, the bathroom is empty and Atsumu dutifully bends over the sink to let you start washing the dye out of his hair. He’s immensely grateful his eyes are shut, and his face is shoved into the sink to hide his flushed cheeks as he thoroughly enjoys your fingers running through his hair. The sensation of your fingernails lightly scraping over his scalp makes him ball his fists as he has to bite his lip to keep from making any sounds.
You’re unbothered, until you notice the towel has slipped from his shoulders and with the way he’s bracing himself against the counter every muscle in his back and arms is on display for you to see. It’s an effort to continue your task as if nothing is wrong and force yourself to look off into the distance instead of eyeing him up.
It’s no easy feat. Especially when you finish and he rises, scrubbing at his face with the discarded towel before moving on to his hair. You press your lips into a firm line and let yourself indulge just a little bit looking at the way his muscles flex with the movement, droplets from his damp hair trailing down the planes of his chest towards the waistband of his shorts and—your attention is broken at the sound of him chuckling and you snap your gaze to his.
You find him staring at you with mischief sparkling in his eyes, so you speak before he can tease you. “Is that it?”
“We have to actually dye it now.”
“Oh.” You turn on your heels desperate to escape his gaze. “Let’s go then.” A smirk plays across his lips, but he refrains from teasing you, solely because he very much enjoyed the way you were looking at him and doesn’t want you to stop.
And yeah—sue him if he thinks about your hands in his hair for the rest of the day. In the end, he might be a little grateful no one else was available to help him.
When mid-semester break arrives, it comes as a surprise that you actually miss each other. What surprises you even further, is that he’s the one to bring it up. Within the first night, he video calls you, a sheepish expression on his face, explaining he needed someone to complain to.
“What do you mean?” You teased. “Sounds like you’re getting stuffed with good food from Osamu and you have plenty to brag about.” You winked, smiling devilishly at him and pointing to yourself. You’re only joking. Slightly. You aren’t sure what will come about if he tells his family about you, or if that’s even a good idea. It’d be much easier to break this off cleanly without the involvement of each other’s families.
He sighs, flopping down on his bed and scrubbing his face with one hand. “They’re just dyin’ to meet you now.”
Your brows lift, half-expecting him to have tried to keep this a secret. “You told them?”
“I wasn’t gunna,” he explains. “But apparently some college sports news channel caught um—,” he coughs awkwardly, remembering very vividly this day, yet the two of you haven’t acknowledged it since. “Our—uh—celebration.”
Eyes widening, you stare at him a moment before the both of you burst out laughing. Between your giggles you manage to say, “Oops.”
Laughing alongside you, he grins, despite the pang in his heart at the voice in his head desperately trying to remind him all of this isn’t real. You aren’t his girlfriend and the moment all of this ends, you probably won’t bat an eye at him ever again. He hates how much that hurts.
Forging onward towards his demise he discloses, “I am now a very proud owner of a very jealous brother now, so thank you.”
That only makes you keep grinning, setting a hand on your cheek and dramatically saying, “What? Of little ol’ me?”
He fights the urge to tell you that yes—jealous of little ol’ you. The girl who is slowly becoming the girl of his dreams. The beautiful, funny girl who deals with him and everything that comes with him. He swallows all that, keeping the mood and saying, “He refuses to let me try any of his onigiri. A crime, really.”
“Of the highest caliber,” you agree, stifling your laughter. “Though I’m sure you steal some when he isn’t looking.”
“Yeah, but he caught me and hit me on the head with his spoon.”
“How dare he. Lucky for me, my family is clueless.”
“What do they think yer doin’ right now then?”
Shrugging you say, “I told them I had a project to work on with a classmate. Which isn’t entirely a lie, I do have a project to work on. But someone interrupted.”
He smirks. “Wonder who that could be.”
“Beats me.” His responding grin does something to you that’s been happening a lot more frequently lately. Making you feel like all the air has been punched out of you and like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Though, you’ve gotten quite good at hiding it.
In the distance, you hear someone calling his name. He panics, it’s bad enough his family knows about you now, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for them to meet you. Especially Osamu, who he has the sinking feeling is already suspicious of this. It’ll be a miracle if he can slip this by him.
“Gotta go!” He says quickly, and before he ends the call, he hears you chuckle and say, “Beware the spoon.”
Every day his situation only gets worse.
The next night he can’t get Osamu off his back. Enough that when he tries to retreat to his bedroom to give you a call, pathetically missing you again, Osamu bursts in when he’s about two minutes into the video call with you. He tries to shove him out, embarrassed and afraid Osamu will see straight through him. But Osamu is stubborn, and he hears you laughing on the other end of the call before saying, “Aww, Atsumu won’t you at least let me try to charm the pants off him?”
He grits his teeth, the thought that he wants you to charm the pants off of him, not his brother flitting through his head before he can stop it. But he relents, letting Osamu sit backwards on his desk chair to join the conversation.
He isn’t sure how, but somehow you get Osamu to believe this is real in a matter of minutes. You have him laughing and talking about culinary school and he almost feels jealous that your attention is now on Osamu instead of him. It’s a ridiculous notion, he knows it, but it doesn’t stop him from keeping the camera on him as much as possible.
When the call ends, Osamu looks at him seriously, and for a moment Atsumu thinks he’s just been pretending to believe you this entire time. However, he breaks into a smile and smacks him on the back saying, “Got yerself a keeper, there.”
Atsumu tries to grin with as much sincerity as he can. Yeah—he knows he does. But that isn’t going to stop this from ending.
That night, both of you go to bed feeling like you’re getting in too deep.
And as per usual, when school starts back up again, neither of you bring it up. You’re happy to keep ignoring it, hating yourself for liking this arrangement and him more and more every day. It sad really, how much time in your day is spent thinking about him. Wondering if there’s any possibility that the two of you could just transition to a real relationship. Because to you, that’s already what this is. Nothing would change, but at least you’d stop feeling guilty every time you enjoy his hand in yours or the soft press of his lips to the top of your head.
A few days after returning to school, you find yourself alone with him in his dorm room studying. He’s sitting at his desk, hunched over a textbook while you lay on his bed, head propped up by an elbow. You can feel your eyes drooping, the words blurring together, it becoming harder and harder to stay awake. His bed is too comfortable and smells overwhelmingly like him, a scent you’ve come to enjoy every time you’re pressed up against him. A mixture of his body wash and the ever-present faint smell of the volleyball court. Eventually you’re powerless against the solace of sleep.
When Atsumu notices you, his heart jumps into his throat. You look so serene and peaceful, your chest rising and falling ever so slightly, part of him wants to crawl in beside you and press his face into your neck and fall asleep right along with you.
But he too has begun to feel like this game has gone too far. The moment he had to tell his family, lie to Osamu, he knew he’d crossed a line. It isn’t fair to you. No longer does he need to pretend for his teammates that he can have a serious relationship, there isn’t a reason to torture himself and keep you tied to him anymore.
Yet, thinking about not being without you, no longer eating lunch together, studying together, or having you in the stands at his games wrenches his heart in such a way he actually feels like it’s crumpling inside his chest. He hasn’t been able to admit it, but at some point along the way, he thinks he fell in love with you. And it just hurts too much to keep pretending. Especially when you’re only doing this for peace and quiet during your showers.
For you, he shouldn’t drag this on any longer.
So, a couple days later, you texted him telling him you were in the library and can join him anytime if he wants. A harmless text, one you’ve sent him many times since this whole thing started, but this one makes his heart sink. Knowing this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for to talk to you. He tries to not think about it, trying to let volleyball take over his thoughts, but it’s futile. All he can think about is saying those words to you, and how it’s quite possibly going to utterly destroy him.
But you take it well, as he expects, squashing the hope that you might feel something for him too.
That night in the library feels particularly lonely. There’s no quick-witted remark from the boy who carved himself a place in your life, no one there to make you laugh when you’re struggling with a problem. Instead, you’re met with nothing but the darkness and silence of the library. It’s almost too much to bear, and once the silence starts closing in on you—you force yourself to leave, refusing to let yourself wallow.
The next weeks are hard. He never imagined that he’d think that after all of this was over. He keeps showering in the mornings to avoid you and uphold the deal you two struck months ago. He ignores the empty hole in his chest when he eats lunch without you, or studies late alone. The most jarring thing is your absence at his games. He constantly finds himself searching the crowd for your face, before remembering you won’t be there. He misses that intense gaze he could always feel on his back, the one that kept him awake at night when he let his thoughts run wild.
He feels as though something has been ripped from his life, leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind that seems intent on devouring him whole.
The same can be said for you.
Who knew you’d ever miss his teasing remarks while you shower? Or miss how you could complain to him endlessly about classes and then have him comfort you in the warm solace of his arms? Even the little things like walking to class together, now that you do it alone, it feels like there’s something missing.
The two you go on like that, thinking of the other every night before sleeping, tossing and turning with the thought of what could have been.
And eventually, you reach the point where you’re over it. Over pining after him day after day, peering out your door to make sure he isn’t around, or taking detours just to avoid him in the hallways. You’re over it. Enough that you’re willing to swallow your pride and confess to him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way—maybe you can fucking move on then.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you stomp to his dorm room, his roommate opening the door; his eyes widening upon seeing you. Immediately, he grabs his keys saying into the room, “I forgot I need to go to the store Atsumu, see you later.”
He leaves no time for Atsumu to protest, out the door in a matter of moments, leaving you standing in the doorway. Atsumu is just sitting in his desk chair, looking dumfounded at you, having fully expected to never see you again.
The gears in his head grind to a halt as you say, “This is stupid.”
He gives you a bewildered look, unsure what exactly you mean by that.
You steel your courage and press on. “I like you. And you like me. I think. And all this pretending that we don’t is stupid.”
After a few moments, his lips curve into a smile, the mischievous one you used to hate but now feel relief seeing. He can’t help the joy building in his chest at your confession. How many sleepless nights thinking about this very moment did he endure?
“You said it,” he teases.
Despite giving him a look, you do nothing to stop the grin rising to your lips. “Well, it didn’t seem like you were going to.”
His smile only widens, and he motions you into the room. “Get yer butt over here already.”
You move on instinct, striding into the room and climbing into his lap, settling your legs on either side of his you wrap your arms around his neck. The overwhelming sense that yes—this is exactly where you want to be, washes over you. He smirks up at you, his large hands resting at your waist, waiting for your next move.
“I can’t believe I actually missed that stupid smirk,” you say, lowering your lips to his, fingers slipping into the short hair at the base of his neck.
His smile hasn’t faltered, muttering against your lips teasing, “Does this mean I can shower at night again?”
A laugh bubbles out of you, but he smothers it in another kiss and refuses to let go.
309 notes · View notes
hotchley · 3 years
Text
strawberry cheesecake
BAM! IT’S HERE!!! BEFORE MIDNIGHT AS WELL!! It was 23:14 when I hit publish on ao3 and I really do need to go to sleep, but it’s here, with some level of accuracy because I googled what happened when someone has an allergic reaction.
Finally, I, the pioneer of Aaron Hotchner’s strawberry allergy, has written the fic where he eats strawberry cheesecake at an FBI function and has a reaction. It got unexpectedly dark, but we’re going with it.
As usual, I have not proofread it, and I kinda need you to suspend all belief about how the FBI works/is run because the function kinda doesn’t make much sense and yeah... you’ll see what I mean when you read... I’m really hoping this doesn’t suck because you guys actually looked forward to it??
Trigger/Content Warnings; food, referenced child death (most recent case), alcohol consumption, anaphylactic shock/allergic reactions, child abuse, hospitals and I think that’s everything
Word Count: 7669 (it got really out of hand...)
read on ao3!
If there was one thing David Rossi hated more than local press giving unsubs ridiculous names because they believed it would make a good headline, it would be FBI functions. And not just any type of FBI function. The FBI function where the Behavioural Analysis Unit- which nobody had believed in- would be mentioned so frequently that it felt like they were on a case.
It was just his luck that one was being held on the same day that he was supposed to be going to the ballet with one of the lovely women that worked in the White-Collar unit. Because despite the rumours that went flying around about him and his dating habits, he was not going to take advantage of his position and make rookies or anyone else uncomfortable. The woman he was supposed to be meeting had approached him and asked if he’d liked to go.
Hotchner had been watching him, looking slightly scandalised as she had placed her hand on his tie, and so Rossi had said yes. He’d even leant in slightly and asked if she would have a problem with him giving her a kiss on the cheek. When she said that she wouldn't, and would actually quite like that, he did and Hotchner had fallen off his chair.
Rossi had smirked, the lady had laughed and Hotchner had hit his head trying to get back up, gone an even brighter red and made something up about dropping his pen and needing to grab it. Rossi’s date had snickered, whilst Rossi had just raised an eyebrow.
Hotchner had excused himself to the bathroom.
As he ran out of their area, closely followed by Anya- she’d slipped Rossi a piece of paper with her name and number, Erin Strauss had walked in, holding two envelopes.
Rossi didn’t need to be a profiler to know what was in there.
“No,” was the first thing he said.
“David,” Strauss warned.
“Erin,” he mocked.
Strauss sighed. “Look, I know you hate these things, but the entire bureau is founded on politics and people-pleasing. If you come to this, then there may be less questions about what exactly it is you do all day, apart from ogling the other agents.”
“I do not ogle. And I guess it’s too much to hope that the other invitation is for Anya, isn’t it?”
Strauss nodded. “It’s for Aaron. Do try and get him to come, it’ll give us all something pleasant to look at whilst we slowly die inside.”
Dave stared at her.
She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m not saying that I want to ruin his marriage or sleep with him, I’m just saying he’s objectively attractive. And I don’t know why you look so surprised, Jason told me about the women that flirt with him. And that you started calling him pretty boy, which hasn’t exactly gone unnoticed.”
“Right.”
“Just make an effort to actually attend. And please get Agent Hotchner there too,” she said.
Dave just nodded.
Aaron had returned from the bathroom.
“Agent Hotchner. I hope Dave hasn’t been making you feel too awkward with all of his comments,” she said. It was clear that she was just trying to see whether any had been made.
Aaron’s cheeks flushed again. “Not at all ma’am,” he said, holding the door open for her. She nodded and left, but not before turning to Dave one last time as she gave him an extremely pointed glare. He made a face at her, which caused her to laugh.
When Hotch had sat back down again, Dave finally acknowledged him.
“That trip to the bathroom seemed rather urgent,” he joked.
“I- well, so,” Hotch stuttered.
Dave shook his head. “It’s fine. And it doesn’t look like that date will be happening anyways, so it’s not a big deal.”
“Wait why won’t it be happening? You both seemed… excited at the prospect of going.”
In response, Dave threw the second envelope at his head. Aaron’s reflexes weren’t fast enough, so it just bounced off and landed on the floor. As he bent down to pick it up, Dave began to understand why Erin and the other agents thought of him as being something pleasant to look at. As in, Aaron had pretty eyes. And his hair was constantly falling in his face, which was endearing.
“That envelope is why it won’t be happening.”
Aaron stared at him and then opened it. “Oh.” He seemed even less enthusiastic than Dave did about attending. 
“I thought you would have been thrilled at the thought of going. It’ll be like all those balls you went to when you were just a young boy growing up in the good old South Virginia," Dave said. He knew he was toeing the line.
Aaron's silence about his childhood revealed more than his words ever could.
"First of all, I didn't attend balls when I was a young boy. The only dance I ever went to was my prom, and that was only because Haley basically forced me to go. And South Virginia isn't that good, that's just a stereotype that people have because people live in fancy houses with white picket fences," Aaron snapped. It was uncharacteristically sharp.
"Sorry," Dave said. And he meant it.
Aaron's eyes widened. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You've not done anything wrong. I just-"
"It's okay. Do you want to talk about it? There's no pressure, it's just if you wanted to. That seemed like quite an extreme reaction to something so trivial." Why was he so bad at this? He could charm any woman he wanted, yet the moment he tried to speak to Hotchner about anything other than work and Haley, he sounded like an idiot.
"I left prosecution because it was always more about politics than actually helping people get justice for the terrible things that had happened to them. And now it just feels like nothing has changed and time that could be spent stopping someone from destroying lives is just going to go on people-pleasing," Aaron confessed. He wouldn't meet Dave's eyes.
Dave wanted to pull him in for a hug, but he knew it would most likely not be well received. He also knew that wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't his place to push. Aaron felt things, more deeply than the rest of them, but he would never admit to anyone that there were certain cases that got under his skin.
Like the one they had just finished. A child wasn't going to be coming home, but the look on the mother's face when they informed her was not one of sorrow. It was one of relief. Aaron had asked to stay behind to speak to her for just one more moment. And when he returned, there was an anger written in the clench of his jaw that Dave had never seen before.
Jason had told everyone to give the kid space. Against his gut instinct, Dave had listened to him. Which he now very much regretted.
"Kid. We all have limits. Nobody can spend every hour of every day hunting down these guys. At the end of the day, we're all just human. I won't lie to you, it will be a lot of people-pleasing. However, it will also- if you let it- be a bit of fun. You're a good agent Hotchner. And an even better person. Let yourself breathe for once."
Aaron looked down. "Thanks Dave."
Dave just shrugged. It was only when Aaron left the room again did he let himself groan. Now he was going to have to pretend to enjoy himself at the function or else Hotchner would just be upset because of his ruined date.
Depending on how you looked at it, the members of the BAU were either lucky or unlucky when no cases turned up the morning of the event. Dave had been watching the fax machine intently, and Max had been looking through a suspicious number of case files the entire day. But in the end, there was nothing.
Which was how Dave found himself standing around, sipping a glass of champagne he thought tasted horrible, talking to strangers he couldn't care less about and silent seething at Hotch. He wasn't there yet, despite phoning Dave to say he would be there in half an hour about forty five minutes ago. 
The only reason he'd bothered to attend and not faked some form of emergency that would let him go on his date with Anya was because he wanted Hotch to have someone to keep him company and make him laugh as he suffered through conversations about being an ex-prosecutor and the change to the FBI.
He was looking round for a waiter so he could take yet another glass when Aaron appeared in the doorway, fiddling with his cuff links. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his hair was more ruffled than usual. As he entered, awkwardly greeting people and tripping over his own feet, Dave rolled his eyes.
How the kid had managed to pass all of his assessments and be the best shot in the entire building was still completely beyond him.
"Hi," Aaron greeted, a dopey grin on his face.
"It's lovely of you to join us," Dave remarked. He just couldn't help it. When Aaron's face fell slightly, he regretted it. He kept forgetting that Aaron took the things people said a bit too literally sometimes. Especially if it came from someone he looked up to.
"I'm sorry about your date being ruined," Hotch said. He was looking around at all the other people in their perfectly tailored suits and beautiful dresses. It made him- with his slightly too big shirt and undone bow tie- look even younger than he already was.
"Well barring any disasters, this should be over in time for me to make it. Anya said she could wait."
There was a slight silence, broken only by Dave rejecting what would have been his third glass of champagne and Aaron quickly accepting it. And then it became too much for him to bear.
"Kid, why is your tie undone?"
Hotch's eyes widened like he had only just realised. Rossi wouldn't have been surprised if that was true. For someone that was a profiler, he was quite oblivious sometimes. Not realising that if you took your vest off and then someone shot at you, you would suffer more than a few bruises, forgetting that his shirt collar wouldn't cover his entire neck, the list went on.
But this was something entirely different. Aaron Hotchner's tie was never undone.
Rossi raised an eyebrow when an entire minute passed without him explaining himself and the colour rose to his cheeks.
"Well, it took me a really long time to do it the first time and then Haley came into our room to grab her bag. And then she really likes it when I get all dressed up because I normally hate doing it- I mean I always hate it- so then she, you know and then I thought I had tied it properly but clearly I hadn't."
Rossi had never heard so many words spoken in a single breath. He did however, understand what the kid was trying to say. "Well at least one of us got to have some fun tonight," he joked.
"Is that why everyone's been staring at me?" Hotch asked, turning his back to Strauss. The woman simply raised an eyebrow, then raised her glass of champagne at Rossi, who glared at her, just because he could.
"Yes," he lied, because he was not about to be the one that explained to him that people were staring at him because he had been deemed the eye candy of the Quantico and therefore, everyone loved him.
"You're lying to me. I can tell! What's the truth?"
Not for the first time, Dave wondered what he'd been thinking when he saw the lead agent in Seattle run after a suspect without any sort of back-up, slip in poison ivy and then carry on running, even though everyone else had realised it wasn't the killer they were after and decided that he would make them into a profiler.
"Are you sure you want to know?" he said, making his voice as serious as he could in a vain attempt to make him change his mind.
"Yes. Because it's nowhere near as bad or as serious as you're making it out to be."
Damn him.
"Fine. But I did warn you. It's because you are- objectively- attractive. And apparently, your slightly repressed accent makes everyone swoon. Also Strauss thinks you have a nice ass," Dave said, completely nonchalant.
Hotch's cheeks went brighter than ever before and he spun round, searching for Erin. She had rather coincidentally turned her back to the two of them as she engaged in a very serious conversation with another Section Chief.
"I- I don't even want to know how you know that," Aaron muttered, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, looking like a petulant child.
"Oh I thought you would love it! You're basically a Southern Belle."
Dave was lucky he was immune to the Hotchner Glare as it came out in full force. "Don't call me a Southern Belle. Do you even know what that is?"
Dave shrugged. "I'm sure I could guess. Look, I'm sorry, I'm just being bitter. Come here."
Aaron regarded him suspiciously. "Why?"
If it had been anyone else, Dave would have told them it was a surprise. Or that they wouldn't know until they stepped forward. But Aaron wasn't anyone else, and Dave needed to remember that. There were certain things he just couldn't say.
"We're going to be here for a while. You can't just stand there with your bow tie undone."
Aaron narrowed his eyes, but stepped forward. When Dave reached forward and grabbed the ends, he tensed. To anyone else, it was too minute a gesture to be noticed. But Dave had spent more time reading people than he had with his second wife. He knew why Aaron was tensing. It was why he took as little time as possible tying it neatly, even though he wanted to take forever.
So that the other agents wouldn't be staring and making him self conscious. That was his only reason. It had nothing to do with the attachment he could feel himself forming, and it most definitely was not linked to his desire to help Aaron associate touch with love and comfort.
When he stepped away, Aaron seemed to relax slightly. "Thank you," he said, ever the gentleman.
Dave just shrugged. "You look better with it done properly. Speaking of, where is Haley?"
"What does Haley have to do with me looking better with my tie done properly?"
"Your tie wasn't done properly because of Haley. Come on Hotch, I thought you were meant to be an ex-prosecutor. And we both know the two of you are inseparable."
Hotch flushed, the way he always did when someone mentioned just how in love with Haley he was. Dave found it adorable, even though he hated himself for that. But he knew how important Haley must have been to Aaron's survival, so even though he wasn't her biggest fan, he begrudgingly respected her.
"She's out with her sister," he mumbled. "They made plans ages ago and they've been so excited for it that I couldn't ask her to cancel just to keep me company."
"That's kind of you. Most men probably wouldn't let their spouse just leave them when there's an event like this going on," Dave said. 
"If you want to go on your date I'll cover for you when Strauss comes calling," Aaron said, rather suddenly. 
Rossi frowned at him. Aaron had seemed excited at the thought of spending the evening together when he first arrived and for him to suddenly seem so willing to spend it apart, just so Dave could go on a date with someone who he was sure was lovely but he couldn't envision a future with, was more than a little unusual.
"Like I said, barring any disasters, I should be able to make it. Are you annoyed at me for bringing up Haley? I know that we had a bit of a rocky start when we first met, but I do respect her. And I like to think she appreciates the fact that I keep you alive."
"I'm not annoyed at you for bringing up Haley," Hotch said, huffing slightly. He was fiddling with his cufflinks. Dave wanted to comment on his behaviour, but did not want to be reminded of the no-profiling rule- which Hotch himself had implemented.
"Well you're annoyed at me for something and I would appreciate you telling me, instead of just bottling it up until we're on a case and something else happens."
"Dave, I am fine," Hotch snapped, tone mitigating his words.
"I'm sure you are," Rossi snapped back, turning away. Strauss was frowning at the two of them and he rolled his eyes. Screw etiquette, and screw the people that thought they were being unprofessional and causing a scene.
They were, but he wasn't going to admit it.
"Do you really think I would forbid my wife to do something as harmless as going out with her sister the same night that I have to attend quite possibly the most boring function known to man?" Hotch suddenly asked, tone laced with malice.
"Of course not Hotshot. I was joking," he said, softening his tone as the problem clicked.
"I wouldn't. I'm not her keeper. And I'm not-" he caught himself, shaking his head. "I just wouldn't."
"I know. I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to joke that like that," Dave said, catching Erin's eye. She nodded, clearly pleased that he had resolved something without resorting to violence or shouting.
He didn't acknowledge her. He wasn't an idiot, and he knew that resorting to violence or even raising his voice would lead to some sort of shut down from Aaron. And he did want the kid to enjoy himself, even though he did agree that playing politics whilst people were dying was stupid.
"The decoration is nice," Aaron commented, a few minutes later.
"It is, isn't it? It reminds me of this opera house I took Carolyn to, for one of our anniversaries. Actually, that opera house seems like the sort of place Haley would enjoy going to. I'll give you the name, you can surprise her," Dave said, deciding he would take the win and prod later.
Aaron choked on his champagne, colour rising to his cheeks when he realised people were watching him cough. He cleared his throat once more before turning to Dave, making absolutely no attempt to hide his shit-eating grin.
"What?" Dave said, hating himself for taking the bait.
"I have to tell Haley that you think she's the kind of person that would go and enjoy herself at an opera house."
"Is she not?"
"Dave, for our last anniversary, I took her to the local theatre because they were putting on Pirates of Penzance because that's what got us together. And the year before that, we both thought it was a week later than what it was, so her sister ended up taking us out."
Maybe Dave wasn't as good a profiler as he thought he was, because in his mind, he had a very specific image of Haley, and none of what had just been said fit with that image. He supposed that was what he got for making assumptions, having never actually met her in person.
"Oh, that's certainly interesting," Dave said.
"She's a very interesting woman," Hotch said, smiling so wide it physically hurt Rossi to see because he knew how the BAU burnt out love, and the strain it put on marriages. Hell, he had lived through it.
"Hold onto her Aaron," he said, without thinking.
Aaron frowned. "Of course I will. Dave, you've been acting weird the whole time we've been here. Are you okay?"
In all honesty, he wasn't. He always said he wasn't like Jason. He had no interest in being a mentor, or finding the next generation of profilers. That was never what he wanted. But there was something about Aaron, and his too large suits and his floppy hair that made him feel things he wasn't ready to confront. 
But if he said any of that, Aaron would probably run for the hills. Hell, he probably would too.
"Of course I am. Now loosen up and enjoy yourself. I can tell you want to," he said, smiling when Aaron's eyes sparkled.
"What do you think Strauss would do if I told her I know what she thinks about my butt?" he asked, the smirk on his face far too mischevious for anyone's comfort.
"You can find out now," Dave said, nodding as Strauss approached them.
"Dave. Aaron, you look very handsome," Erin said, looking him up and down once.
Whatever had possessed Aaron just a few moments before had clearly vanished, as his cheeks flushed and he awkwardly stuttered out something that nobody, not even the person speaking, understood.
"Thank you… Ma'am. You look very nice too," he eventually managed to say, sipping his champagne to distract from his failure at speaking.
"Is there something you need?" Dave said.
"No, just making sure you weren't too bitter about your date being cancelled. And also making sure that Agent Hotchner would save both of us a dance after dinner. I'm sure everyone from Quantico wants to know whether or not our Southern Belle can dance," Erin said.
Hotch downed the rest of his glass. "I'm not- it doesn't work like- I don't- I really don't think- fine. One dance. But that is it, and none of you are allowed to laugh if I mess up, because I'm not the dancer. Haley is."
Haley seemed to be a lot of things that Aaron wasn't. Maybe it was part of the reason they were so well-matched.
Erin nodded, smiled at them both, then went to mingle with different people.
"See, everyone thinks you're a Southern Belle!" Dave said, smirking.
"But why? I've done everything I can to repress my accent, and I have done since the day I started law school," Aaron said. He did not whine, because grown men that worked for the FBI do not whine. But if they did, his sentence would have definitely sounded like whining.
"I know, and most days, it's only the slightest thing. I don't really know how everyone worked it out, but they did. And that's fine!"
Hotch pouted.
"Look, if you really don't want to dance, you could always land yourself in the hospital with some kind of injury. I could take you, sneak off to my date, Haley would affectionately roll her eyes and then give you all the kisses you want…" Rossi said, smirking.
"No it's fine. I'm not going to fake an injury, that would be so embarrassing," Hotch replied.
"Then stop pouting, you look like a child. And go mingle with someone else, if you spend the entire time before dinner with me, what will people say?"
Hotch snorted, then schooled his face into a look of neutrality, before nodding and going off to speak to one of the other higher-ups. Rossi noticed, rather fondly, that it was the one person that actually cared about the people involved in their cases, as opposed to just the politics and the prestige.
About five minutes later, he realised he missed the kid. And then he started to panic. Because he didn't get attached to people. Especially not new agents that had too much hope and faith. Not new agents that were that nice. He didn't. He couldn't.
Him and Aaron ended up seated next to each other at the banquet table, because there genuinely was no other way to describe it. It was long, and grand, and every platter was filled to the brim with food of so many different types. Dave honestly could not remember what the function was actually for, but a part of him was tempted to comment that if part of the budget for these events went to the BAU then they'd probably be able to properly fund the unit.
He refrained, if only because Aaron looked so excited at the prospect of finally eating something. Dave had learnt long ago that you had to eat before you came to these events because people loved talking and more often than not, you'd drink the champagne just to get through their conversations, but clearly Aaron hadn't quite learnt that lesson yet.
"So where is that wife of yours?" Max asked, seemingly out of the blue.
Hotch tensed. "Out with her sister. Why?"
"I've only seen you smile like you are now when Haley is around, but I don't see her anywhere," he said, in that annoyingly patronising tone of his.
Hotch relaxed, but flushed. "I-oh. Yeah. She's out with Jessica because they had made plans a while back and they don't really see each other as much anymore because Haley's busy teaching and doing the school production, and Jessica's getting her Masters so," he trailed off.
"I think it's lovely, how much you love Haley," Erin added.
Dave snorted into his glass, not at the fact that Aaron looked so uncomfortable but at the fact that these people hunted down serial killers and criminals for a living, and yet the thing they got the most joy from was teasing a kid about his marriage.
"Right, that's enough being mean to the newbie. What about dessert?" Dave said.
Aaron flashed him a grateful smile. He just shook his head. He remembered when he’d turned up to his first event, Carolyn in awe of all the decorations and outfits, and everyone else had been ruthless with their teasing. He wasn’t about to let Hotch suffer that same fate. He’d probably faint with embarrassment.
Erin laughed at the two of them, and Jason smiled at Dave’s defensiveness over his new protege. One day. One day Jason would get Dave to admit that the way he felt towards Aaron was nothing short of paternal. Max just rolled his eyes, but the waiters came to clear their plates before he could make another biting comment.
Aaron excused himself to the bathroom, and then the dessert was brought out. Dave, being the saint he was, switched his and Aaron’s plates because he wasn’t getting younger and he knew he was meant to be cutting down on his sugar. So if Aaron had the bigger slice, then it would do them both a favour. And it had a whole strawberry to decorate it, not just the jam.
Erin was giving him one of his looks when their eyes met and he resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. He knew what that look meant. It meant Erin had an opinion on whatever he had just done, and it was one he wouldn’t like or approve of. 
“Look, it’s strawberry cheesecake!” Dave exclaimed, poking his fork in Aaron’s direction in an attempt to distract from Erin’s gaze.
The smile that had been plastered across Aaron’s face since they’d been sat down- and Dave really didn’t want to think that it was as a result of Erin’s comment about his butt, although it was the only thing that made sense- faded, and the colour seemed to drain from his face.
“What is it? Come on, you must love dessert, you’re the kid,” Dave said, slightly teasing.
Aaron opened his mouth, seemingly contemplating saying something that he thought would ruin the entire evening, but then he closed it and gave Dave a forced, tight-lipped smile. He almost pushed, but they had been having fun, so he just grinned back and urged Hotch to eat it.
If anyone noticed him wince as he swallowed each bite, or the fear that flickered in his eyes when he ate the strawberry, they didn’t comment. For that, he was grateful. He still had no idea what he was meant to do when the inevitable happened, but so long as nobody realised, he had time to work it out. All he needed was time.
He did really miss Haley though. If Haley had been there, she would have said something on his behalf because she would have known there was no way he would do it himself. It was too late to turn back now though. There was a tiny part of him that secretly hoped he’d outgrown it, but the moment he felt stomach cramps forming, he knew that was wishful thinking. Still, if he was lucky, nothing too serious would happen until he got home. Haley would panic, take him to the hospital and everything would be fine. Nobody else would have to know.
Or so he thought.
He’d gotten so good at not eating strawberries that he had completely forgotten just how badly, and quickly, the effects would hit him. He had forgotten just how allergic he was to the fruit. And he was aware of how stupid that sounded, but it was just one of those things.
Dave was staring. So was Erin. He cleared his throat, awkwardly looking down. When the waiters came out once more to clear the plates away, he smiled at them, hoping his cheeks didn’t seem flushed, or his palms too clammy.
“You promised me a dance,” Dave said, nudging his elbow.
“I did, didn’t I?” Aaron responded, hoping his voice didn’t sound too strained. When he stood up, his vision went slightly fuzzy and unfocused, and he found himself grabbing the table in order to stay upright.
He was going to be fine. All he had to do was make it through another few hours, and there was always a delay between his vision blurring and breathing becoming difficult, so with just a bit of luck, he could still do it.
Luck had never really been on his side.
Erin was standing, talking to Dave, and he couldn’t remember what he was meant to be doing, or why nobody was dancing. Maybe they had just been teasing him when they said he owed them both a dance. Or maybe they were waiting for him to do something. Either way, the confusion wasn’t helping him function.
“Kid, what’s happened to your hand?” Dave said suddenly. It reminded him of that time his cousin had eaten shellfish, but that didn’t make sense. There was no way Aaron had hit adulthood without realising he was allergic to the things they’d eaten.
Aaron stared at him.
Erin grabbed his wrist, the look that crossed her face one of fear and panic. “Aaron.” 
It couldn’t be. There was no way the ugly red rash forming on his hand as they watched him was being caused by an allergic reaction. It just couldn’t, because Hotchner may have been stupid and irresponsible, but there was no way he was that irresponsible.
He cleared his throat.
“Now would be a terrible time to tell you that I’m allergic to strawberries, wouldn’t it?” he rapsed.
Dave’s jaw dropped. “You’re what?”
Aaron Hotchner’s timing had never been good. It had actually always been abysmal. He was born early, in both senses of the word, met the girl he would end up marrying on the last day before a three month holiday which she would spend out of the state, and was generally just not smooth with the way he did things.
So as if on cue, he fell to the ground, completely losing consciousness. Clearly the delay between his vision growing blurry and his breathing becoming shallow was not the large space of time he thought it would be.
“Aaron!” Dave yelled.
Erin dropped to her knees by her side. “Dave, phone for an ambulance. Now.” 
Dave blinked a few times, then realised what she was asking him to do and ran out the room to find the phone. When he was patched through, he realised he had no idea if what Aaron was experiencing was just a reaction, or anaphylactic shock, but he just explained himself as best he could, only relaxing when they said it was likely everything would be fine and they would be there soon.
He re-entered the room only two minutes later, and Aaron was still in the recovery position.
“The idiot doesn’t have an EpiPen on him. I don’t know why, but he doesn’t, so now we literally have to wait until the ambulance gets here and hope for the best,” Erin said, some strange mix of angry and terrified.
“He doesn’t have his- what kind of- why not?” Dave said.
When he looked around the room, he realised it was suddenly startlingly empty. It was just Erin, him, Aaron- who still hadn’t come around- and Jason. Max was suspiciously absent. He figured that was for the best. If anyone would make the situation more awkward than it already was, it’d be Max.
“He managed to get everyone to go downstairs, then said he would stay with them. We figured the less people around when he woke up, the less embarrassed Hotchner would be,” Jason explained. “And on that note, I’ll go explain to the paramedics what happened,” he added, as sirens filled the air.
“Dave, when did our lives suddenly become co-parenting this mess of an adult if only so he gets home safe to Haley?” Erin suddenly asked.
“We don’t co-parent him. No. We just… look after him the way we would do with any other new agent that was his age,” Dave said, although he wasn’t even convincing himself. Erin didn’t respond, just looked at him with that glint in her eye.
He didn’t get the chance to carry on with his argument because Jason entered with the paramedics, and him and Erin moved away. It seemed like they had already been informed that Aaron didn’t have an EpiPen on him, because the first thing they did was inject him. There was one terrifying moment, in which Erin grabbed his wrist, where Dave thought they were too late, but they weren’t. 
Aaron opened his eyes, obviously disoriented and immediately after lifting his head, let it hit the floor again. He seemed far too pale, but nothing gave the impression that he was going to be sick, so Dave relaxed. When he and Erin were finally able to go over, Aaron was almost done answering their questions, some of the colour returning to his face in the form of flushed cheeks.
If he was capable of embarrassment, then everything was going to be fine.
“We’re going to need to take him to the hospital for observation and to make sure he doesn’t have a secondary reaction, but one of you is welcome to come. In fact, it would be preferred, wouldn’t it Aaron?” one of the paramedics said.
Aaron nodded, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes.
“Dave, you should go. Aaron, I don’t want to see you in the office until you’ve been cleared both by the doctors and by Haley to return. Do you understand me?” Erin chastised, sound every bit the mother Aaron had never had.
He nodded miserably, closing his eyes, and for a few moments, Dave felt terrible for him because so many pieces seemed to be falling into place now. And then he remembered that the whole thing had been caused by Aaron not saying he was allergic. He still felt terrible, but he also wondered what the hell he was meant to say to Haley.
“Come on kiddo,” he said as gently as he could, helping Aaron to his feet and into the elevator.
When he was safely sat in the ambulance, and they were well on their way to the hospital, he raised an eyebrow at Aaron who pulled a face.
“Don’t,” he protested weakly.
“So you’re allergic to strawberries,” Dave said. “How long have you been sitting on that piece of information for?”
“I’ve known since I was four and ended up in the hospital after I went strawberry picking with my mother and ate one of them.”
“Aaron, nobody was going to be offended. You could have just said something, it would have been okay. Really, you can’t judge someone just because they have an allergy, and everyone would have just moved on. You didn’t need to eat it.”
Aaron swallowed. “When I was eight, my father bought strawberry tarts for my mother and I, because he knew she had friends round and he wanted to seem like a dutiful husband. He didn’t- she’d kept the first time a secret from him because he’d been out of town. And when she tried to tell him, he said I was being difficult, then he made me eat it whilst she told her friends everything was fine. I only survived because she snuck in with my EpiPen.”
“Oh kid,” Dave said, chilled to the bone.
He shook his head. “I knew, realistically, that nobody would say anything, but I just couldn’t shake the memory of being told that if I was going to waste food, then I didn’t deserve it.”
“Aaron, that’s not-”
“I know that. Now at least. Thanks for not reacting weirdly. Or thinking less of me.”
“Agent Hotchner- are you still esquire, oh it doesn’t matter, esquire- nothing would ever make me think less of you. Especially not this. It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault, and I know it’s easy for me to see, but I need you to know that.”
Aaron gave him a slight smile, eyes watering. “Thank you Dave.”
“I do have one question though. Where the fuck was your EpiPen?”
He made a sound, one that Dave was not going to dignify by actually naming in his head.
“That didn’t sound like an answer young man,” he teased.
Aaron sighed. “It- okay. My blazer pockets weren’t big enough to fit it, and I figured strawberries isn’t exactly a common thing, so it would be fine if I left it in the car, but then I didn’t want to say anything, and then I passed out before I could- oh.”
“What?”
“Did everyone see me collapse?”
Dave considered lying, but Aaron had bared his soul to him. He owed him this small piece of honesty. “Yes, but they also witnessed me running like a headless chicken to get to the phone and Erin completely freaking out, so it’s all okay. I promise.”
Aaron nodded, not fully convinced. “Thank you. For caring.”
And one day, Dave would teach him that caring was what people did for each other. That it wasn’t something he had to earn, or something that would be snatched away at the smallest transgression. He would teach him that the love he had always deserved but never been shown was going to come from more than just Haley. It was going to come from every single good person he knew.
But in that moment, he just leant over and ruffled his hair. And maybe the gesture was paternal, but he could live with that.
“Mrs Hotchner’s been waiting for you all to arrive,” the receptionist said the moment they came through the doors. Aaron relaxed at the mention of his wife.
“You can send her in as soon as we go in. He’s been treated, we’re just keeping him for observation,” the paramedic said. The receptionist nodded and turned to one of their colleagues, who immediately got up.
Dave hung around as they got him situated, wondering when would be an appropriate time to leave. He didn’t want to step on Haley’s toes, or make her feel like she wasn’t trusted, but he also didn’t really want to leave either of them. Not if the real timeline matched the one he’d created in his head. She would have just been a child too, but children always believed that they needed to save everyone and anything less was a failure. He didn’t know how to say that their job was to be a child, and it was on the adults to keep them safe without patronising the two of them.
So he sat instead, keeping Aaron company until he was no longer needed.
Haley came rushing in the moment she was allowed to, her eyes slightly red. They must have told her how severe the situation was, and Dave felt guilty for making her panic so much, when Aaron was doing much better already.
“Baby, they told me what happened. How are you feeling? Is your heartbeat erratic? Is there anything you need?” she asked, not even acknowledging Dave. He wasn’t offended though. The love Haley had for her husband was the most fierce thing he’d witnessed, and now he understood. She’d spent her entire life defending him and the love she had for him.
He shook his head, then grinned at her. “Kiss me?” he asked, and for a moment, he was just a normal man, so in love with his wife it physically hurt to witness.
“I shouldn’t- me and Jess had strawberry margaritas before we got the phone call. She’s coming round tomorrow to check on you herself by the way,” Haley said, brushing his hair off his head with a smile.
Aaron nodded. “I’d expect nothing less. Oh Haley, this is Dave. And Dave, this is Haley.”
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Dave said. 
“You too. So, what happened? Because you told me it was just a function, and then when I got home, there was a message from the hospital that you were being brought in for anaphylactic shock which doesn’t make any sense because you don’t eat strawberries anymore!” Haley said.
Aaron had the decency to look away. “I didn’t want to cause a scene so I ate this slice of strawberry cheesecake. And I thought it would be fine- well not fine, don’t look at me like that. I thought I’d be able to last till I got home. I’m sorry.”
“Baby, I’m not angry, don’t worry,” Haley said, taking his hand. “Just do what the doctors say, okay? And please don’t eat strawberries anymore just to be polite.”
“I’m afraid I may have made it worse,” Dave confessed, needing them to know, even though it had not been intentional, by any stretch of the imagination.
“What do you mean? How?” Haley asked. Aaron lifted his arm enough to signal that he had the same question.
“I switched our plates when they got given to us so Aaron had the bigger slice. It also had a whole strawberry on it, instead of just half a slice. Maybe if I hadn’t done that, his reaction would have been less severe. I’m sorry.”
Haley, in spite of, or maybe because of that single comment, started laughing. Aaron just watched her laugh with a smile on his face like he had never seen something so beautiful, and he probably never had. Dave watched them, confusion across his features.
“I’m sorry. It’s not funny. It’s just- Dave you have nothing to apologise for. He was always going to have a reaction. And given that he didn’t even have his EpiPen-”
“It was in the car,” Aaron said, not quite whining but definitely getting close.
“Didn’t have his EpiPen,” Haley said, like Aaron hadn’t even spoken, “it was probably always going to end like this. I’m just laughing because you sound like such a parent. Like switching slices is something my dad did for me and Jess when we were little. It’s cute.”
Aaron looked to Dave, fearful and hopeful all at once.
“What can I say? Erin and I need to make sure someone keeps an eye on him,” he said. There were a lot of things in his life he wasn’t proud of. There were lots of mistakes he had made. But this? Being considered Aaron’s parent? It would never be one of them.
Aaron smiled at him, the light in his eyes returning. Haley nodded her approval. When the nurse came in a few minutes later to check Aaron’s vitals, the silence felt comfortable and natural, as though they had already become attuned to the others’ needs.
“Are you two going to be okay?” Dave asked. Someone needed to tell Erin that he was okay, and he really wanted to go to bed. He realised that he hadn’t even considered trying to salvage his date with Anya. He supposed they could always reschedule. Besides, Aaron was more important now.
Haley nodded. “Yeah, I’ll drive us home, make sure he takes a bath and have him back and safe with you on Monday, don’t worry.”
Dave stood up and started heading towards the door. “Oh don’t worry too much about rushing back to us. I’m sure we’ll survive. His cute butt will be missed, but we’ll make it through.”
Haley snorted. “Aaron didn’t I say that there was no way people hadn’t noticed?”
Aaron did not reply, but he did glare at both of them.
Dave smiled. Just before he left, he hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not it was the time and the place. But he just couldn’t resist. “So are there any other allergies we need to be aware of? Shellfish, pollen, nuts? Pretty ladies that want you to call them back?”
“Dave!” Aaron said, and this time it was definitely a whine.
He just smiled, leaving Aaron and Haley in the hospital room. Had it been a normal event? No. But he wouldn’t trade the night for anything in the world. After all, he had just found a whole new family. And he couldn’t wait for Haley to meet Erin. The two of them would definitely cause Hotcher a whole new level of embarrassment.
It was going to be the messiest and most random family to exist, but a family nonetheless.
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I'm. The new covers, op. The new covers. Gosh. Both of them hold so much symbolism. And technically they both are canon, they are both original ideas that could perfectly be valid. Horikoshi simply found something better. But anyways, I'm going to go ahead and ramble about it because Im- Op, prepare for a long ask! Hope you like it!
So!
On the one where Katsuki's the one in the picture, he's not on his knees like he is in the other two covers. Instead, he has his face down, body forward, one hand on one leg, the other one holding out for something...He's bowing. Bowing in Japanese culture is a pretty big deal. Hes not just tilting his head a bit, his head and body are on full on commitment.
Such a tilted bow means a LOT, specially from THIS guy, Mr dont let anyone walk in front of me. Even more when hes not just bowing, but accepting such an open display of given help, Mr shonen anime lone wolf. Accepting something he always has trouble admitting to. Accepting the past, accepting the wrongs. Accepting Izukus help means so much, and that's what these three covers have in common.
His hand is sctretching out. He's ready to say yes to that hand out in the air.
(Ps. I wonder if he's watching his own reflection on the water in this panel, as well?)
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Hes in middle of the picture with those childhood friend at the back, which means audience. It means letting people see what hes done, what he's sorry for. He is being open and exposed and vulnerable. That's no fighting stance.
Remember guys, in case you haven't noticed before, Horikoshi puts lots of metaphorical value in his manga and on his covers. Sometimes you've got to dig in deep and think to get the bigger picture. And in this case, the bigger picture screams regret and wanting to make things right from the start.
This cover occurs in the past, at the moment where everything started, and Katsuki fully remembers this. Katwuki has thought of this, is thinking about this. He's had eye bags for gods sake, he's clearly troubled by all of what it means.
These three covers are the visual explanation of what's going on inside Katsuki's head, because this is clearly focused on him and his perspective.
(Ps. Rivers symbolise the massage of time. If that doesnt add to everything else, I dont know what to tell you.)
So! Next!
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Wow, if this isnt one of my favourite things ever. Okay. Christ.
I have two options here. Scratch that, three options. Scream into the void, scream into this post, or actually make a good presentation of my inner turmoil. I'll have to go by the third option. (Haha. Just like horikoshi did. Dont # me, I'm funny in my head.)
This cover melted my insides, froze them all over, and hit me with them like a hammer.
I know they're kids, but let me get this straight-so kids seriously look at their friends with these looks in their eyes and think "ah, yes. This is my very good friend. This gentle smile and kind look I'm giving him as if he was my whole world? Well, hes just a very good friend."
I looked at my childhood crush this way, I dont know what to tell you.
Anyway, let's actually jump to the information at hand.
This panel seems like it's making a reference to what Katsuki wishes could have been. And if that's not absolutely soul-crushing...this cover is Katsuki's feelings, guys. These are probably his very thoughts. This scene has gone through Katsuki's head at some point.
We've got Izuku in his stuck up pose all over again, in just an awkward angle. It's like katsuki isnt looking AT this katsuki right now, but at the spot where the actual past Katsuki, at some point, was. As if this Isuku is frozen in time. Dont believe too much in this paragraph, I still have my doubts about that, but I feel it's a possibility. Izukus eyes seem to be focused on the water, while Katsuki is just the tiniest bit back, reaching for Izukus hand. And gosh.
I dont think I've ever seen older NOR child Katsuki have this look plasted into his face before. He's...sheepish. Kindly, awkwardly sheepish. No hate, no anger, no shame, no nothing. His face is clear and sweet and has this "Whoops. You got me. But thanks." kind of expression on.
The hand behind his head, just the tiniest but embarassed? That little smile? It's all so soft.
Rambling about softness though- I really liked the hand scene in this particular panel. If you close up your view, you realise that theres no effort to pull anyone out of nowhere. In this panel, they are simply holding hands in frozen time for no purpose at all.
Katsuki has his hand around Izuku...simply holding there.
Again, because the angle is awkward, it's kind of messy, but you get the point.
It's all simply beautiful. Horikoshi clean likes give me life.
And lastly. The actual cover.
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I screeched so hard when I saw this. My first instinct when seeing this for the first time was to straight up go trigger happy fingers and write about it to my friends. Christ.
Everything is so...SOft. horikoshi made a good decision by mixing both previous drawings in one. We have parts of the two covers in one, which is amazing. In this one, Katsuki isnt alone, as Izuku's there too. But we dont have the audience either. Probably because the main focus on this panel is no one else except them two.
Again, Katsuki looks like he's bowing, but instead of looking all the way down, he's in the middle. Not looking at Izuku nor looking at the ground, like it shows in the previous covers. Instead, Horikoshi found a middle ground. He's looking at his hand. At the gesture.
Hes not holding hands quite yet, but his hand is there. At arms reach. Not close enough but there. Wanting.
Theres so much regret and again, softness.
Again, like you Op said a bit bad, the angle is off here. This is present Katsuki remembering his past. The angle is off because this Izuku isnt holding out for our Katsuki. This is a memory. A wish. Katsuki's wish.
(Ps. Izukus trousers drenched in the rivers water. This detail was so nice. It's a subtle action that describes Izukus characterization so much. Izuku went in the river with Katsuki in mind, not caring if he got his clothes soaked in the process too. For Izuku, only Katsuki was there. And for Katsuki, only Izuku is.
As a plus, I can't believe the cover of this is literally called Bakugou Katsuki rising. They named the entire thing after that one chapter. Actually, I very much, totally believe it. It's the moment so many people have been waiting for, after all. The moment so many scenes have been amounting for, little by little.
*dreamy sigh*
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little thing, I had to get it out of my system and dont want to bother my dear friends anymore than needed.
Have a good day, OP! I'll stay updated!
You kinda just...took my heart and curb stomped it, not gonna lie. Your observations are so beautiful and so accurate. The sketch with little Bakugou taking Izuku’s hand is so...raw, and yeah, that expression is definitely one of love. Those eyes, the way he is HOLDING Izuku’s hand, not TAKING it. He isn’t taking it to stand up, he is literally just...holding it. 
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That isn’t the way you take someone’s hand when you’re trying to pull yourself up. It’s an awkward angle and just...wouldn’t work right. No, he is literally just holding his hand, and that’s exactly what Bakugou wishes he did all that time ago. He wishes that he not only took Deku’s hand, but held onto it. Held it as if it were something precious, something to be cared for and protected. 
These are Bakugou’s true feelings expressed in these drawings, and I think Horikoshi released them on purpose, to show us more of what he wanted Bakugou to be feelings through all of this. Since after all, we know that Bakugou expresses himself in action, not so much words. And because Horikoshi is an absolute genius, he thought to give us these other glimpses in how he feels through these actions. 
And the other sketch with him bowing his body to Izuku, and the way the log looks like it’s on his back with his ‘friends’ on top of it. 
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The pressure of needing to be the coolest, the strongest, the best. Those kids put that kind of pressure on him, even if they never realized it. They encouraged his behavior and fed his ego, and it never allowed him to see how he was wrong. But now he is realizing it, and he is bowing himself in light of that acknowledgement. He is lowering his head and putting his pride away, so he can get back what he lost all those years ago; the opportunity to take Izuku’s hand.
To take the hand of the only one of those kids that ever loved him unconditionally. Who never pressured him or expected him to be invincible. Who saw all of his flaws and was completely prepared to support him despite all of it. The only one. 
I’m just a mess over all of this, and I am so incredibly thankful to Horikoshi for creating this beautiful relationship. AND IN A SHOUNEN MANGA, NONETHELESS!!  
Thank you friend, for your beautiful thoughts. I think they’re spot on, and I am so emotional all over again because of this. 
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annab-recs · 4 years
Text
Midsummers Nightmare - JJ Maybank
Rafe seems to have a little crush on you and you do not realize it until it’s too late. You don’t react as he had hoped, and you don’t have the best timing when it comes to telling your friends and boyfriend, JJ.
Requested by @rochyu 💙
Warnings: some curse words; small amount of verbal and physical abuse
Word Count: 2.2k+
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"I hate your brother." The insult falls from your glossed lips as you roll your eyes at the eldest Cameron who stood farther away from you and Sarah, his blue eyes locked on your swaying figure. Sarah chuckles before nodding in agreement with your statement.
"Yeah, he can be an ass," the blonde in the elegant white dress acknowledges as she grips into your arms gently and spins you two around so that you don't have to be in his line of sight anymore. You give her a small thank you smile as you get back to dancing with your friend. The midsummers music flows through the two of you and together, y'all sway your hips and spin around as giggles fly from your mouths.
"I think he has a crush on you, to be honest." Sarah's sudden words cause your eyes to widen.
"But I'm with JJ." She laughs before leaning into you to whisper in your ear.
"Let me tell you a little secret. I'm with Topper but I'm crushing on someone else too." She pulls away from your ear with the deepest hue of red spreading across her cheeks.
"Who?" Your curiosity is just dying to know but she shakes her head, indicating she will not be speaking more on the subject. You decide not to pester her any further and just vibe to the music with the brown-eyed beauty next to you. All good and fun vibes leave as soon as you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see who it is. Rafe.
"Can I help you?" Sarah spoke harshly to her older brother but was soon distracted when Wheezie came running up.
"I just want to talk to you. Please? I won't bother you anymore." The way he spoke sounded like there was something more bothering him and his blue eyes appeared to be almost scared. That in turn worried you and caught your attention so you nodded your head, letting Rafe grab your hand and lead you away from your friend and the crowd that had gathered on the dance floor.
"Okay, so what's wrong?" You asked him as soon as y'all were alone in a room upstairs. He still had that worrisome expression on his face and it just made you even more anxious.
"I need girl advice," he mumbled softly. Relief washed over you as your mind could quit making up worst-case scenarios and focus on the frazzled boy in front of you.
"All right, spill," you instruct, and he nods before beginning.
"Well I like this girl a lot, but I don't know if she feels the same way as I do. I think she does, but I don't know. I feel like something is holding her back."
"Do you think the thing that is holding her back can be overcome?"
"Yes, and if she's scared to overcome it by herself, I'll surely help her." It was nice to see Rafe be so vulnerable and open and it was a side you wished to see more of. As being friends with Sarah for a long time, you had known Rafe for equally as long. You have seen him be nice and sweet but as he's grown, he's become harder and meaner. You don't know why but by the way he's acting now, you see the sweet Rafe you had known when you were younger.
"Have you told her how you feel?" You question as you lean against the wall next to you.
"No, but I have made it so obvious," he states as he takes a few steps closer to you. Absentmindedly, you take steps back as well.
"Rafe, you like this girl. Tell her how you feel. Make your move." You feel your back hit a wall behind you.
"If you say so." His hands lay softly against the sides of your face as your mind tries to understand what happening and when it all clicks, his close proximity to you, how he's always staring at you, how Sarah literally said earlier that she thinks he has a crush on you, how the thing that's holding you back is JJ, it's too late. Rafe's lips are on your own.
You push against his chest to get him off you and your face shows nothing but pure disgust. As Rafe watches your actions, that soft and sweet Rafe you saw previously had left as quick as he came, and his demeanor changed completely. He raises his hand in the air before smacking it across your face.
"Rafe!" He has never done anything like that to you before so to say you were shocked would be an understatement. His hand comes towards your face again and grips your jaw harshly.
"I was going to try to save you from the dirty pogues, but I see that you are the same trash that they are," he spoke through gritted teeth. Using the grip he had in your jaw, he pushed you back into the wall, your head hitting the wood enough to leave you with a pretty bad headache. Your hand flies to the back of your head as Rafe walks over the window, gazing at the party below. 
"Looks like your dirty pogue has arrived. I'll take care of that." And with that, he left. You had no doubt in your mind that JJ couldn't handle Rafe, so you stayed put, mainly in fear. You could feel the stinging handprint on your face, the pounding in the back of your head, and it was almost as of Rafe's hand still had a hold of your jaw.
You sat there as tears brimmed your eyes. You would have to go downstairs eventually and have to face the people you had grown up around. You also didn't want to pass Rafe or his two lackeys, Topper and Kelce. Not wanting to see anyone just yet, you sit and think back on all that just occurred to you. You had never expected the man in the baby blue tux to come on to you like that and you definitely didn’t think he’d hit you.
Scrambling to your feet, you slip out of the room to a bathroom next door to examine your face. You didn’t look too bad. No one should be able to tell anything after you fix your makeup. Thankfully, you had brought some with you in your purse and applied it to where it had been smudged by Rafe’s hands. Your eyes are still tear-filled, but none have fallen just yet. You are not going to let yourself break until you are home, alone. When you finally build up enough courage to go back down and leave, you are met with a bit of commotion amongst the party as you watch JJ shove a guy in a black suit.
“Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie and Y/n,” the battered blond speaks to you both as he points at you two. He moves his finger towards Pope. “Pope, you as well, all right? Rixon’s Cove. Let’s roll.” His attention goes back to you and Kiara. “All right, girls, come on. Workers of the world unite. Throw off your chains!”
You happily run to your boyfriend and jump into his arms after he and John B salute each other. He spins you around as you three wait for the other two who have to put up a small fight against their parents. Pope runs up to y’all as his father yells from afar and he wraps his arms around John B. Kie comes seconds after, laughing as she runs into JJ’s arms. Pope pulls you into him as the five of you run away from the kook-filled place, but not without John B yelling, “Later losers!”
Soon enough, y’all make it to Rixon’s Cove, get a fire started, and sit around discussing what the mandatory meeting is about. John B explains that the gold in on the island before providing the evidence of Denmark Tanny and how he used the gold and his whole story.
“So, what’s the plan?” Pope questions as he looks at the letters with a flashlight. You look over his shoulder to get a look at them too.
“Good question. So, Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight. She’ll bring an original survey map-” John B starts but is cut off by Kie.
“Hold on. Sarah? Why Sarah?” John B stays silent while JJ mutters, “This is gonna be good.” You were just as confused as Kie. Why was Sarah getting involved in this? She was your friend, but she was not near as close to you as the pogues were and this was a pogue thing anyway.
“Sarah, um, she got me into the archives in Chapel Hill yesterday, and that’s where I got the letter.” John B tells her as you watch the disappointment and betrayal wash over her features.
“You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?” She asks as he agrees. Of course, JJ has to make the situation worse with his little comment, “He was mackin’ on her.”
“I wasn’t macking.”
“You were totally macking Sarah Cameron.”
“So that’s what Sarah meant earlier when she said she had a crush on someone else that wasn’t Topper,” You add before the boys go back to arguing.
“I wasn’t macking on her, okay? I was using her for access.”
“There was access, all right.”
“Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kie interrupted the two boys bickering.
“I was just trying to get into the archives.” John B defends himself, basically admitting to telling her.
“Is that a yes?” Kie pushes.
“I- I left out key details.” He still doesn’t deny telling Sarah Cameron about our secret.
“Yo, what? You let a kook in on our secret? What about pogue life? What about the t-shirt company, bro?” Kie continues as Pope and you sit back and watch it all unravel. They all continue to talk as you zone out watching the fire until Pope speaks from beside you.
“Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club.”
“Yeah and he kissed me, slapped me, and pushed my head against a wall earlier.” The group fell silent at your confession. You didn’t realize you had spilled until the silence came over you.
“He what?” JJ spoke as he walked over to you from beside John B and Kie.
“When did this happen?” Kie asked you.
“An hour or so ago. It was right before we left. I came down and you were going off about coming here. I wasn’t going to bother you with it until later because I know how heated you get,” You say calmly as you grab his hand to make sure he doesn’t get too riled up and angry, but your attempts seem to fail.
“I’m gonna beat the shit out of him,” JJ speaks through gritted teeth as he stands to his feet.
“No, JJ.” The softness of your voice brings him back to where you stand. The tears have come back, and one manages to escape despite your efforts to not cry. The blond pulls you into his embrace where you finally break down, the hurt and pain from Rafe’s actions finally taking a toll on you. Soon, you are wrapped up in all the pogues' arms as they comforted you. Later, you and JJ left for the chateau while the other went to meet Sarah.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” JJ asked you as you laid against his chest, his fingers fiddling with the ends of your hair.
“I didn’t want you to worry about it and if I had told you there, you would’ve fought him right then and there. I couldn’t tell you then.”
“I’m still gonna beat his ass.”
“That’s okay but be with me first. Your time for revenge will come, but don’t insinuate it. Okay? I don’t need you getting hurt more than you already are.” You lean up to rest your chin against the top of his chest as you stare into his gorgeous blue eyes. You bring your hand to rest on the side of his face, and he leans into your touch before letting out a sigh.
“Fine. I won’t do anything until it’s time.” You rubbed your thumb over his cheek softly as his eyes fluttered closed. When he opens his eyes again, they appear to be glossy.
“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask as you sit up. He follows suit, leaning against the wall.
“I never want you to have to experience what you did tonight.” His sad eyes lock with yours.
“JJ, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you speak softly, running your fingers through his smooth golden locks. You let your hand trail down the side of his face to his arm and finally, it meets his hand and your fingers interlock with his.
“It’s not okay. You may be okay, but what he did was not. I’m not going to let that happen again. I should’ve been there with you tonight, but John B-”
“John B needed you. That’s okay. Let’s just go to sleep and forget about it, all right?” He nods as the two of you go back to laying down. You rest your head back down on his chest and with the soothing sound of his heartbeat, you fall asleep in seconds.
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jamestrmtx · 3 years
Text
Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]
[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]
Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 2 of 3)
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When you're done freshening up, dinner's already underway. The scent of vegetables and broth hits your nose, and the cold temperature left behind by the storm brings forth an additional hint as to what the monster's cooking up for dinner. You try to stay soundless as you sneak off to the kitchen and stand behind him, looking over his shoulder when you make it there.
"I can tell you're here, pal," Sans says, chuckling. 
He turns to you with a spoon held out in his hand. There's a sample of soup on it, waiting to be tested. The scent reminds you of having missed lunch break due to the stormy weather, with the hours it lasted bringing forth your boss's decision to call the rest of your shift off. You were supposed to be at your last meeting by now, but the rain and wind had proven to be superior, canceling all plans. Less work meant less pay, though you try to refrain yourself from worrying too much about that right now. "Taste it." He offers it out to you, still waiting. You, on the other hand, take a while to do anything, overthinking the situation as you then debate on whether to grab the spoon or taste it right off his hand. The first option had the risk of you brushing hands with the monster and spilling the soup in the process, yet tasting it right off his hand was almost unthinkable to do. 
Another thought pops into your mind, and that's whether it was fine to trust the skeleton by tasting the food and giving him the benefit of the doubt about it not being tampered with. Though you knew him for a few months now, it's still impossible not to acknowledge a possibility like that one. If a man you'd known for so many years had ended up leaving you, only to make a scene like yesterday's when trying to get back with you, who's to say a stranger with customs far different from yours wouldn't do something similar -- or worse?
You remind yourself of your main and original task: confronting him and the rest of the monsters over the choices they made back at the Underground, regardless of how charming and kind they were being with you currently. Sans was no less of an exception. This wasn't only for Frisk's safety and their overall state of well-being, but for your reputation as their parent -- and for your peace of mind, too.
You figure you've taken too long based on how the skeleton backs the spoon away.
His grin widens, and he then sips the contents off the spoon, leaving it empty. "I promise it ain't poisoned." He gives his back to you as he goes to wash the spoon, offering it to you after it's been cleaned. "You can taste it now." Sans moves aside, creating space for you to step forward and scoop a bit of the soup still bubbling in the pot.
Just as you're about to eat it though, he says, "I'm not the best cook around, so go ahead and lemme know if it tastes funny." 
A smile forms on your face when you hear that, captivated by the idea of him having no clue how to begin cooking, and even more considering he was at your home instead of his. If it was often difficult for beginners to cook in the familiarity of their own home, you can't imagine how it must feel doing that at another person's place. For a moment, you wish you could've seen him in the process of cooking, an opportunity you'd lost while you went off to shower and change.
When you taste it, what's missing drops into your thoughts; years of having cooked at home reveal the capability of identifying that quickly. You consider the suggestion and confirm what the soup's lacking when you clean up the spoon and take a second sample off the pot. "It's good," you say, setting it aside. "Just needs a bit of salt and more time to stew. The rest is fine."
"Thanks," he replies, hands going back to his pockets. "Paps wants to improve his cooking, so I figured I've gotta better mine some more before I teach 'im anything."
Again, your mind finds itself in a conflict. While it's charmed by the thoughtfulness of that comment, it's also clouded by the morose reminder of why you'd asked him to stay for dinner in the first place. To distract yourself, you add the missing ingredient to the soup and walk with Sans to the couch while it finishes boiling.
It feels strange to sit so far apart from each other, but he doesn't close off the distance, nor do you.
You prop a leg over the other and rest a hand over your knee, bouncing the one on the floor when you lack anything more to say. Your thoughts scramble around as you try to find a way to make the situation less awkward. When you glance back at him, you see it's something he also seems to want to end; your gaze meets with his when you both decide to look at each other's side -- synchronizing.
He shifts closer and you do the same, continuing until your hands touch.
Almost immediately, you pull back, yet your gaze remains locked with his, eyes drifting down to his teeth. Even as he gets nearer, you stay put, lost in your thoughts and the risky scenario unfolding. Your brain and heart scream at you to stop; your body -- conversely -- refuses to move out of its current spot and rebels by inching closer to him, until you're near enough to catch the scent of the only soap brand you often bought for showering: soft-scented, cheap, and antibacterial. It's strange to catch that aroma from someone other than yourself. Frisk preferred using a different kind, making the situation much more intimate than you would like it to feel.
You grab his hand again as he leans into you, only stopping himself when your back presses against the armrest. Then, he pulls his hand back and uses both to hold your shoulders and corner you right into place. Height difference makes it so that his legs stay knelt on the couch while yours hang off it, these tucked aside as you focus on the matter at hand. He brings himself closer as he tries to level out your heights, grip on you staying. The sound of your heart and of the soup simmering by the kitchen are the only two other things to keep your mind occupied from what's happening; anticipation makes your breaths waver.
As if the situation couldn't get tense enough, the door of the living room opens and in barge two people, leaving you in an iced state. 
Rather than Frisk and Toriel, it's Frisk and Jerry who stand at the frame, one casting a look of betrayal at the monster while the other scrutinizes the scene. You try standing up, yet the monster's hands hold you back, body held up over yours -- still cornered. His face reveals nothing but conflict, an expression similar to your state of mind regarding how freely to act with him. 
Jerry leaves without a word and shuts the door too slow for it to even click. Frisk does the rest of the job for him by locking it, checking it again, and saying nothing themselves as they look at you in the eye and sign, "Can we talk later, ren?"
Still in a tough position, you nod once, lacking strength or words to say anything out loud. 
Sans doesn't move even as Frisk disappears into the hallway.
You see his irises falter when you look at him; his gaze isn't fully there. A few drops of sweat are present on his forehead, and you can feel his hands grow colder with each second. "...Are you okay, Sans?" you ask, voice faint. "I, um... I think the soup should be ready now."
You hope that's enough to snap him out of it, only to have that contradicted when his hold on you stays. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he mutters, huffing, "I failed you."
Sans moves back while you sit up straight; silence returns. He stands up and goes to turn off the stove, all done within more time than you would expect as he chooses to stay there a few more minutes, staring aimlessly at the kitchen's wares. You rest your hands on your knees, and you wait to see what he does next. There's not much you can do now that you were caught in a moment like that one, and there's no time to beat yourself up over it, either. All you can do's admit your blame where it best seemed fit, and that was in letting your inner voice act before you. You'd given it your strongest efforts to wait until your first year of college to date Jerry, only to then wait until you had a stabler job by your second semester to actually do anything more serious with him, and later waited six more years alone, watching as Frisk grew up in your care for most of the time, only to let your wants show through now of all times.
Excuse through excuse -- be it valid or not -- you'd restricted yourself at every moment you saw possible.
All that, and yet it still felt as if you hadn't done enough.
You wanted to be stronger. 
"Frisk told me 'bout your situation," Sans says, distracting you from your thoughts. "Not whatever happened with Jerry, but the way you see monsters, and well… me, in general." He turns away from the kitchen and sits back down on the couch, looking directly at you, though for wholly different reasons than earlier ago. His hand stays over yours, more comforting than sultry. Were you to know him for any longer, you would've assumed he's holding his soul on his sleeve, yet you remind yourself he's still a stranger. "Maybe this's my habits showin' up, but if I were to judge you based on what they told me, I'd say you're labeling yourself as the bad guy." His fingers intersect with yours, squeezing your palm. "Of all the things I've gotten to learn about you, this's one of the least you should be blamin' yourself for. If anything, you're not exactly the only one responsible for all that's been happenin' right now."
Your breaths grow tighter the longer you keep listening to him. Your heart's racing again, yet it's not the same as before. The monster lets your hand go, continuing with, "I can't tell you just how different we are from each other, and how much I wish I had a fraction the amount of willpower you and your kid have." He sighs; a hint of a smile shows despite the furrow in his gaze. "You've got some things right about me, and one of 'em's havin' chosen to act too late. Being unable to be there for those I care about, more specifically." His nose cavity flares as he lets out a stifled laugh, remorse showing in spite of his best efforts not to let that happen. "I hate who I used to be, and even now, I still feel like I could've done more. I wanna try harder, but I don't have a clue on where to start with that."
Sans tries to stand up, yet fails to. He heaves out a breath as he closes his eye sockets and surrenders himself back on the couch; he rests his elbow over the armrest and lets his chin rest on his hand. After that, he looks back to your side, an apologetic gaze showing as his grin widens and his crease deepens, the way his monster anatomy worked allowing him to further display similar movements to that of a human narrowing their gaze. "Keep taking credit where it's due, (Y/N). And when you've got somethin' you want to improve, try your best to overcome it." He pauses, and the crease in his gaze lessens as he casts a fonder look at you. "Not that you ain't tryin' already. But you're still takin' up too much of the blame, and not realizing when you can be free. It doesn't have to be with me -- or anybody else, for that matter -- but try to live life a lil' more. Don't just dwell on the past and restrain yourself from stuff you want to achieve for yourself. You should live for you, just as you're tryna live for others."
He closes his eye sockets and brings a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead until he lets out a hushed sigh. Then, he opens them and straightens up on his seat, hands resting on his lap. There's a brief pause, broken when he breathes in again, saying, "...So a skeleton and a single parent walk into a bar," he takes another stop, continuing with, "One bares their skin to the bartender, earnest down to the bone," his breath hitches, yet he composes himself quickly, "the other sits back, looks into the past, and then wonders why he's feelin' so lonely."
He huffs and ends it all with a chuckle and an attempt at covering his face away from your sight. You stop him with the brush of a hand, taking his cheekbone when he turns to you. His body's shaking and a few tears escape his sockets, these he tries to wipe with his free hand, only for you to hold him back by doing that yourself. Caught in the moment, you kiss one of them away, the expectance of a salty taste proven wrong as you receive a hint of sweetness instead -- reflecting the memory of your day with him at the pâtisserie. His shoulders shake as he chokes back a sob, breaking down. His hands grab your back, bringing you in for a hug as he seeks more comfort. In that embrace, you can feel how his rib cage rises and falls at quick intervals, slowing down when you hug him back and wait until he breaks it apart.
The wait's as long as you expect it for someone in his state; the weight of his breaths diminish as he calms down and lets you go.
"Sorry about that," he comments, chuckling. "Wasn't really myself for a moment there, huh?"
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missjaystone · 4 years
Text
What’s up, Doc?
This is my submission for darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ ‘Watching-Stalker AU Challenge’ (And yes, after asking initially from an entirely new account before posting on a secondary blog, I’m too embarrassed to tag Roo again.)
Prompt 11: Everyone knows about celebrity stalkers, but what happens when a celebrity is the stalker? Kinks: Forced Pregnancy/Breeding, A/B/O
Word Count: 3000
Relationship: Dark!Steve x Fem!Reader x Dark!Bucky Trigger Warnings: nonconsensual/dubious consent, forced pregnancy/breeding, A/B/O dynamics, abuse of power(?). PLEASE DONT READ IF THESE OFFEND YOU (PS Everyone: I’m sorry to redirect everyone to another blog but I’m too nervous about having 'missjaywrites’ as only a secondary blog. The first blog post on miss_jay_stone with stay but that blog is officially abandoned. Henceforth everything will be posted here.)
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Being a doctor meant stressful moments, being a military doctor meant stressful days, weeks, months, or years. However, being a doctor specifically for the Avengers was an entirely new level of pressure. Being the person to patch up or perform surgery on literal superheroes made you miss working in the middle of warzones. You knew one wrong move could quickly spiral into a major issue, but you knew this when you took the job.
The choice itself wasn’t easy, there were more than enough reasons for you to respectfully decline, reasons like; despite being as accomplished as you were, you were still fairly young, the pressure was enough to age someone half a century, there were about a dozen security measures in place to make sure you said nothing to anyone, numerous contracts and NDAs to sign, and possibly the biggest reason to say ‘no’ was what you really were. An omega. You could very well be arrested because of how many official government forms you’d falsified and signed stating you were a Beta. You did what you had to do to accomplish your goals and it landed you in the medbay of the Avengers compound, often in close contact with the numerous Alphas on the team.
In your opinion, you were pretty physically average and never thought of yourself as someone that turned heads. That was more than fine by you, the less attention you had on you the better. Recently, though, you felt something subtle change, you always felt like somebody was looking at you, even if nobody else was around. The constant feeling and incessant nagging in the back of your mind sent a chill up your spine daily. There were some days where you found yourself feeling something like an internal tug towards whatever alpha was close by and now more often than not, the closest alpha was one of the two blue-eyes super soldiers. If you had listened to the alarm bells in your head, you would have left your job the moment you felt something strange.
You would’ve moved to Calgary or Portland or Dallas, but you brushed it off as silliness and an overactive imagination. And because of that, here you were, stuck in a web of your own design, your protruding stomach a reminder of the mistakes that led to this situation. Of course, you’d love them when they arrived but that wouldn’t lessen the naivete you felt for falling into their game. Their words forever holding your heart and soul firmly in a vice grip. “C’mon, doll, you can be our good little ‘mega and get everything you could ever want” “We can keep your secrets safe, we’ll make sure nothing bad can ever happen to you.” The words seem to play on repeat in your mind. You can pinpoint the exact moment a small mistake led to where you were now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 8 Months Prior~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Wow, where are you going all dolled up like that?” Your colleague and friend Alex asked as you stepped out of the storage room with a bundle of clothes in your hand. He paused typing his report to watch you gather your things. “I’m going to a 50s themed party with a guy I’ve been seeing and he’ll be here to get me soon,” you answered, motioning to the very-50s inspired outfit you wore. “Lucky you, kid, knock him dead but use protection,” he called with a chuckle as you left towards the elevator. You rolled your eyes at his comment but got a chuckle out of it yourself. He loved acting like he had 25 years on you instead of 10. The entire elevator ride down you were checking to make sure everything was perfect and not a hair was out of place.
You didn’t even look up when you stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. You did however look up, when you collided with a firm body. Your apologies were stopped by two things; the feel of cold metal on your back thru the thin fabric of your top and the strong scent, familiar scent of cedar & sandalwood and sage & pine. “I’m so sorry about that Captain Rogers, Sargent Barnes; that was totally my fault for not looking and I’m incredibly sorry to have almost steamrolled you,” you rambled awkwardly as you hurriedly tried to step back and put space between you and them. It took several long moments before Bucky removed his hand from your back, putting both in his pockets.
“Don’t worry about it, accidents happen,” Steve said with a smile that just didn’t seem quite right. There was an uncomfortable couple of seconds where you felt their eyes raking over you and you would’ve sworn their pupils dilated. “You know, it’s funny, you look like you’re straight out of a magazine from the 40s,” Steve said with a chuckle to break the silence. “Thank you, sir, I have a date at a themed party and this is the theme,” you sheepishly replied. The blond cleared his throat to cover what almost sounded like a growl at the name ‘sir’ and his features momentarily hardened when you mentioned it was a date. His smile was quick to return “well we don’t want to hold you up, enjoy your weekend, Doc and we’ll see you around.” You politely thanked him and returned the pleasantry before stepping passed them to leave. If only you had looked back, you would’ve seen them begin an intense, hushed conversation before they disappeared into the elevator.
That little conversation seemed to be when all of this started, but it was only little things that never drew much thought. At least, it started small; things on your desk would be moved, lights would be left on when you showed up the next day, your door would be unlocked, just little things that you couldn’t definitively say you did or didn’t do and the feeling of surveillance being minute and random. Then it got bigger; clothes you’d left at the office would disappear like jackets you kept in case you got cold or a spare change of clothes if what you wore got messed up, and papers you were sure you’d put away would be scattered on your desk but the feeling of being watched was more often, and one or both of them often came around for seemingly any reason. Like when Sam came in to get stitches after a mission, Bucky stood to the side almost brooding when you only mildly acknowledged him to tend to his friend.
Then alarms started to go off in your head but you ignored it. They were celebrities, they were superheroes. There’s no way on Earth they’d give you more than a second though. Your internal alarms kept going off; you never felt alone anymore, even in your own home. Your cozy little home that you’d fallen in love with always felt like somebody else was there or had been there. You often felt like your skin was burning, especially when they were around which was now multiple times a day, you always seemed to run into them. Bucky was normally quiet when you crossed paths, always asking if you felt okay and commenting on your flushed and flustered appearance, taking two steps forward for every step you took away from him. Steve seemed to be more physical whenever you two met around the building, he’d pull you into a friendly hug before you could object and make conversation with you, often brushing hands with you or setting his hand on the small of your back.
It went on like that for two months and you’d never been more thankful for fall to turn to winter, the cold breeze helping to sate your increasingly uncomfortable temperature. You thought everything had passed when you started to feel more normal and they stopped coming around you as often.
One night you decided to stay late to get some reports finished, submitted, and filed properly. It was perfectly fine for a while but then you felt yourself heating up again. Even after removing your scrubs and changing into some clothes you stored here, you were still burning. Soon you were fidgeting in your seat, trying to find some way to quell whatever what happening with you. You ended up nearly running to the bathroom to splash cool water on your face and get something to drink but you should have just gone home.
When you took two steps back into your lab, you were immediately pulling back against someone’s broad chest with superhuman strength. On instant contact, a familiar and unnerving scent surrounded you; cedar and sandalwood. It was Bucky hold your back flush against his chest. Panic set in seconds later when you felt him pressed into your lower back, the size alone was enough to take you out of your paralyzingly-afraid state. But it wasn’t like that helped any; you were an average human and he was a Super Soldier, it took no effort to keep you in his grasp. All he had to do to keep you in line was move one hand around your throat and growl quietly in your ear.
“Easy, doll, if you move too much he may have to hurt you and that's the last thing we want,” a calm voice said, the tone almost soothing. Steve stepped into sight from where he’d been looking at some things on your shelf. “I know you’re probably a little confused but we’ve been keeping an eye out for you. Keeping creeps away at bars, making sure your train ride home goes without incident, taking care of the men you go on dates with. You’ve quite the active social life doll,” his voice was tender as he approached you, gently stroking your cheek.  By now your eyes were wide with bewilderment as your brain attempted to process this situation. “We want you to be our good little Omega, start a family with you, and give you everything you could ever want or need,” Steve continued when your attempt to speak came out in a whimper.
Just as you went to correct him, Steve stopped you, cupping your cheek “please don’t lie to me, doll, we can’t create a future built on lies. We always thought you were a cute little Beta but after running into you that day, we both got a nice strong whiff of your cleverly hidden Omega scent, made us both incredibly hard, especially in that outfit that looked like it was from our time. That little incident made us see you for what you are; a good little ‘mega perfectly tailored for us, made to be our girl and have our pups. Unfortunately, we had to wait sometime to wean you off of those nasty chemical suppressants but now that you’re on the verge of your first heat, your body is more ready than it ever will be to take us,” Steve explained in that eerily calm voice, the intimacy of the town and him gently stroking your cheek was easily beginning to jumble your mind as it told you to do what you’d been fighting for years, what you hoped to always avoid.
“Steve,” Bucky grumbled, finally speaking up when his friend paused, he’d started steadily grinding his hips against yours for friction. “I-I can’t, I d-don’t want this,” you stammered out, nearly biting your lip off to keep yourself from whimpering or moaning as you felt Bucky’s hard-on against you, so close to where you needed but didn’t want it to be. “Well, that’s why we’re giving you a choice, princess. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you and if you’re our girl we can make sure nothing bad ever happens to you. You’ll be the safest person on the planet. Alternatively, people will find out about your status and well, perjury, falsifying federal documents, and falsifying medical documents are serious. You’d lose your medical license permanently and it’ll be at least a decade in prison but that’s not what we want,” Steve reassured before planting a small but quick kiss on your lips and smiling.
“C'mon doll, you can be our good little 'mega and never have to do anything ever again, you’ll never have to worry about money, job security, gross bar creeps, medical issues. We just wanna take care of our girl,” Bucky whispered in your ear, his tone too gentle for the situation. When you began to object again, a strong cramp in your abdomen had you nearly double over with a pained moan. You’d have been on the floor if Bucky wasn’t holding you and Steve wasn’t in front of you. “We can make all of this pain go away right now, just say you’ll be our best girl,” Steve coerced as he moved a few strands of hair out of your face. You knew you couldn’t open your mouth without moaning in pain or screaming so you furiously shook your head. Steve continuing to stroke your cheek, though small, was enough to distract you from noticing Bucky untying and pushing your shorts down.
As much as you hated yourself for it, you moaned out in surprise when you felt Bucky’s cool metal fingers rubbing your clit slowly. The man let out a groan and pulled his hand back, smirking as it glistened in the dimmed lights of the lab “fuck, Stevie, she’s so wet for us.” The words renewed your sense of panic and you began struggling hard. That seemed to be all it took for Steve to let go of his restraint. He lunged forward and captured your lips in a harsh, hungry, and dominating kiss. The blond wasted no time ripping your shirt and bra away, sending buttons flying to the floor. He didn’t break away from the bruising kiss as he began to fondle your breasts, paying extra attention to the nipples. In your state of unwanted pleasure, you didn’t notice Bucky quickly unzipping his pants and pushing them and his boxers down enough to free his aching member.
An entirely new sense of panic filled you when you felt his head nudging at your entrance; you would not make it through this in one piece, they were going to split you in half. When Steve’s lips finally left yours, he haphazardly pulled his member out and pulled you down until your face was level with his cock. When you didn’t do anything, he seemed to signal to Bucky who then buried himself into the hilt and moaned out happily, his breathing hitching as he mumbled “fuck, so tight, feels s'good.” Just as anticipated, you opened your mouth in a silent scream of pain and forced ecstasy, he gladly took the opportunity to thrust into your mouth, making you gag when his tip hit the back of your throat.
It took them no time at all to set a bruising rhythm, their moans and groans combined with your muffled cries of pleasure and fear filled the moan. You hated the way you felt your body betray you, how your core ached from Bucky to go faster, how your mind was quickly falling into the role of a submissive little Omega that you’d avoided all your life. Pretty soon you were beginning to move with them, the logical part of your brain being overshadowed by the need to please the two Alphas violating you.
“That’s it doll, that’s our good little Omega, such a good girl cooperating with her Alphas,” Steve cooed soft praises as he proudly watched the last of your resolve vanish. He took one of your hands and wrapped it around the part of his cock that wasn’t in your mouth, helping you build up a good stroking motion before letting go. He held your hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugged whenever he felt you run your tongue along the veins. Bucky on the other hand had a vice-like grip on your hips as his thrusts gradually became erratic. He reached underneath you and started rubbing your clit quickly, this time with his flesh hand. “C'mon doll, cum for your Alphas, you’re gonna feel so good being our Omega,” he muttered into your ear, nipping at your earlobe.
You couldn’t stop yourself. Between his words and the way he rubbed your clit and Steve’s praises and encouragements, you didn’t stand a chance against doing what he asked. You came with a muffled scream as your searing orgasm raced through every one of your veins, leaving you in a seemingly endless state of white-hot euphoria. You could barely acknowledge the feeling of Bucky erupting inside of you, filling you with his seed. His thrusts slowly becoming more languid.
“C'mon, hurry up,” you heard Bucky say, even though it sounded muffled and far away to you. You admittedly whined at the loss of his member even though he still held you up. You coughed when Steve removed himself, finally taking in deep breaths of air. They switched places quickly, Steve emitting a groan as he entered you more gently than Bucky did. This time, you didn’t hesitate before taking Bucky’s cock into your mouth, just following the part of your brain that said to submit to them, that they alone could bring you this much pleasure and everything they promised. Steve gave a few thrusts before he pulled your hips flush against his and spilled himself with a content moan.
You all but collapsed to the floor when they were done, them being the only reason you didn’t. Bucky scooped you up bridal style after Steve wrapped his jacket around your used, naked form. You were only semi-conscious as they carried you out of the lab, barely awake enough to mumble out “where are we going?” “We’re going to our room, little 'mega, and we’re gonna keep doing this every night until we see you round with our pups and we’re gonna make sure you’re treated like a princess, our princess,” Steve said, using his soothing tone from earlier. Barely clinging to consciousness, you merely nodded. The last thing you remember before passing out into sweet, sweet dreamland was you saying “alphas know best.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Current~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You looked down at your stomach before looking back at the sonogram in your hands; clear as day, you could see two 8-month-old babies. You’d stopped fighting when the pregnancy tests turned positive, they were very clear that no matter where you went, they’d find you and bring you home. They kept their promise about giving you everything you could ever need or want and protecting you. They kept their promise to keep you safe and always be there for you. You resigned from your position and didn’t renew your rental agreement, officially moving in with them in a bigger room. Once you safely passed the second trimester, they claimed you as theirs and let you claim them as yours. You’re not sure if you’ll ever forgive how this started but it wasn’t so bad.
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Yeah I'm honestly a bit surprised by how passionate and vocal people are about hating twenty one pilots? It's kinda upsetting that when I try to interact with content about them I'm always a bit worried in the back of my mind because I'm a pretty sensitive person and it's hard not to let stuff get to me.
I don’t know why it’s always felt like twenty one pilots has gotten a ton of hate for no reason? I’ve been into them since 2013-2014 so pure unadulterated vessel era, I’m a very old fan of them and their music, like one of the oldest picture in my phone is this
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(This picture isn’t important I just love it, plus something fun to look at with a not so fun subject material)
(Long history as a fan rant incoming lol)
I’ve been an emo kid for a really long time, back when all of the emo bands were big, when seeing another kid wearing a panic! shirt always meant you talked to them in the mall, I still remember when I would wear the one twenty one pilots shirt I could afford outside, that anyone who knew who they were would come up and start a conversation with me
And it’s like through the years the hate has changed to be... somehow worse
Back in the early days tøp used to get called not a true emo band because they didn’t have anyone playing the guitar so everyone hated them because they weren’t emo Enough
Plus there was the whole ‘emo trinity’ ‘emo quartet’ infighting nonsense but that’s so long past idk if anyone even remembers it lol
Then blurryface rolls around and fans are being made fun of for dressing funky and going through that one fandom phase where everyone was calling the boys smol beans it was great and cute, we were all really close, we called each other frens, told each other to stay street it was great! So what people made fun of us or whatever we were absolutely vibing
Twenty one pilots felt like the coolest secret gang of fans, we were absolutely huge, more so than most people would think, and man it was awesome!! If you saw a tøp fan you knew that you were cool with that person and that person would be cool with you!! It was amazing!! Sometimes I do miss this vibe!!
But then Stressed Out ended up on the radio...
I feel like it really all changed here, all of the sudden the old fandom things were cringy, the boys were sell outs, and every family member you knew was suddenly the biggest fan despite only knowing stressed out
I remember being upset around this time because of strangers invading my space, this was my group, filled with people who understood what the lyrics meant and knew and understood how much they meant to all of us, and suddenly it was filled with people who didn’t belong
I didn’t blame the pilot boys, obviously they can’t control what’s on the radio, I’m fact, there’s plenty of pilot songs that mention never being played on the radio because of one reason or another, so my problem was never with the boys, it was with the influx of new people, and by new people I don’t mean new fans, I mean news outlets and tv show host, and with that influx came the people who didn’t get it, you know? That were rude and outright nasty and refused to understand anything about the genre and effort put into the story and why it mattered to us
(Tw for suicide mention, and uncomfortable themes involving people making fun of themes involving it, tw for mentions of school shootings)
All of the sudden we were the fans of Tyler Joseph the man who ‘Glorifies Suicide’ and actively is supposedly encouraging that behavior
We were the cringy fans everyone knew in high school and hated who were described as being ‘JuSt So QuIrkY 🤪’, instead of the mentally ill kids we all were, by people who hated us
We were the fans of those ‘white boys who look like school shooters’ (this one honestly rocked me to my core, it still hurts to even see??? Like idk why but it almost makes me want to cry)
At the same time a lot of the old fans were turning their back on the pilots, they didn’t want to be involved anymore, they hated ALL of the new fans whether they were respectful or not
It was a REALLY hard time to be a new fan, very few people were open to having them involved in anything, I think this is when a lot of hatred happened in the fandom not only fan-fan fighting/hatred but also fan-band sentiments weren’t great either
The more songs that ended up on the radio the more the hatred grew, in fact this got so bad Tyler did this
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Here’s a transcript in case it’s hard to hear
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Like... this was the state of our fan group.... it was suddenly cool to hate all the songs that ended up on the radio so much it affected every part of our music journey
There was a lot of infighting, it was an awful time to be a fan, new or old
Then came silence era, in which every tøp blog I followed except like 2, became kpop blogs and I’m not sure any of them ever came back lol, I actually really disliked kpop because of this for a bit in like a jokey kind of way in my own head lol (ahh how the turn tables have turned... kpop and tøp are the only things I listen to now haha, actually because of all my tøp mutuals becoming kpop blogs I vowed to myself to not change this blog to another group so I have two music blogs now, which makes me laugh but also shows how important music is to me so it makes me happy anyways you know?)
It was kind of a sad way to have the fandom disappear, everything was strangled, the boys were gone, and no one kept up with the fandom, it felt really lonely
When Trench era clues started back people started coming back, the mood was different, we had something to do and it was fun to work on something with others, we had the Clancy letters, and all the clues, and the tower of silence and the vultures!! It was great! It started to feel like we had rebuilt something from the rubble of what we had been
The fandom started calling Tyler stinky and he called us b*stards it was great, sometimes people were a bit meaner than I think they thought they were being, but it worked you know?
When the album released we had more people come back and things slowly started fitting back ok again, more songs ended up on the radio and a lot of older fans said the same things they’re saying now, but it wasn’t that bad, it was mostly very positive
And then we got to the over the summer drama, which........... is a sensitive subject, but I legitimately do not understand how it was Tyler’s fault that people assumed he was talking about something when he wasn’t talking about it at all... especially when people have been begging him for years to talk more about mental health, he wanted to introduce whatever he was going to do with a joke, I personally never though he was talking about the big issue at the time of the incident, but it blew up like wildfire and the next thing you know he’s canceled because Other People Assumed Something
So now it’s ‘Morally Justifiable’ to hate Tyler because he’s r*cist or something, despite it never being his intention and because people assumed something
It’s literally not even with good reason that people are doing this, but because it blew up when it did and about what it did, no one knows what really happened and people just wanted a morally justified reason to hate them because you can’t just dislike something anymore without it being justifiable I guess? I feel like with all of the years I’ve spent on the internet everything has only become more hateful...
All this to say.... yes, it hurts when people hate the things that you do, I get really sensitive about it as well, especially with how long and how many arguments I’ve seen, and I am extremely sensitive to discourse and hatred, it’s why I don’t engage with much of it online, in fact I was about to delete the post complaining about everyone hating on them before I saw it was really resonating with you guys
I guess my best advice to you anon, would to try to understand where it’s coming from, that’s what’s helped me, I know a lot of people dislike the pilots because of the fact that they became ‘mainstream’ during blurryface era, and people are really upset by that, so understanding that, even when it hurts, I can acknowledge that they feel that way and that it’s ok that I feel differently
It’s easy to take that point and test it against your own morals, ‘do I think twenty one pilots became mainstream, or only makes songs to get on the radio?’ If your answer is no, then you can both say ‘I don’t agree with them but they’re allowed to have their own opinion’ and kind of give yourself a wall and barrier against what they say
I know this isn’t perfect advice, but it’s helped me a lot
I know there are two big arguments against this album, that it’s mainstream and made to have radio singles (the underlying argument here I guess being Tyler and Josh are money hungry and no longer care about the music)
And that it’s no longer lyrically meaningful, but I think this has to do a lot with how involved people are in the Dema lore, if you’re not a fan of lore I would imagine this album being propaganda and supposed to be fake and bright to prove a point would really bug you if you didn’t really get it
To best thing to do is digest an argument (only if you can handle it emotionally of course 🖤) and know it’s ok that think differently than other people, and that the chances of someone being mad at you are very slim
A lot of things I’ve enjoyed have been stolen by the fear of getting hated on for something - while in actuality, the very few times I’ve gotten real hate over something barely affected me
I admit the fear of getting hate bothers me a lot more than actually getting it, but I just want to encourage you to stay strong in the face of it, it will pass, as it all does, but if nothing else in this post resonates with you, PLEASE HOLD ONTO YOUR JOY FOR AS LONG AS YOU CAN! And don’t let ANYONE take it from YOU!!
If twenty one pilots makes you happy, just remember that the only person who can take that true joy away from you is yourself, remove the people who make you feel sad out of your life, I apologize if this is a physical person in your life as this makes it a lot harder, and sometimes impossible depending on the situation, but on the internet unfollow anyone, block anyone, don’t engage and leave them alone, it’s not with your energy or effort, and they’ll never change their minds but they can change yours you know?
Being sensitive in a time when everything is hateful is hard, especially when everyone tells you you’re a bad person if you aren’t engaged, but you really don’t have to be, you get to choose your own destiny you know? Don’t let other people choose it for you
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capri-ramblings · 4 years
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Ruggie Bucchi x male reader Angst? (it's ok if you're uncomfortable, you can put neutral reader in here! ^^) Reader confess their feeling to ruggie but ruggie reject reader feelings and say sharp words towards the reader. Time passes and ruggie starts to develop feelings toward the reader and starts to regret what he did. I hope it's not too much to ask for this!
This was too long I have to make a separate post for Part 2 lmao but I hope you love this as much I loved working on it even when angst isn't my best skill 😩💖
[A Hyena's Nip] Part 1
Ruggie always kinda knew you had a thing for him. It was in the glances you stole at him when you thought he couldn't see, in every good morning smile you gave to him each time you passed him in-between classes. You also always seemed so... flustered whenever he came near you, but if he was being honest, it didn't bother him all that much.
He did find it a bit weird though, cause he was a guy and you were a guy and there's like a lot of other guys out there that you could be crushing on and honestly, you looked like the clingy type too. The same type of clingy Ruggie always wanted to avoid in girls.
So,it didn't came as a surprise when you went and confessed to him after club activities, telling him how much you liked him and stuff, but it still kinda took him off guard. Ruggie wasn't actually expecting you to pour out your feelings, well, he was hoping that you weren't going to because if he had to be honest,this situation you put him in was very awkward.
He didn't like guys as much as he didn't like girls and not because he doesn't have those kind of urges but because he finds the whole 'i like you,you like me,let's date!' relationship kinda pointless, and time consuming.
You were a good kid though. Ever since you came and got stuck in this school, you always made an effort to lend a hand to anyone who needed it, and there was that time when Leona almost turned his hand into nothing more than dust particles and you practically threw yourself in front of him to stop that from happening. He was grateful, of all the people present then, he wasn't expecting you to come and save him.
Staring down at you now, with your head lowered as your hands fiddled with the hem of your gym wear, Ruggie felt bad that he was going to reject you flat out and he wasn't going to be nice about it too, cause chances are you'll tell him it's okay and that being friends is just enough and when has that actually worked out well for both parties? No. You weren't going to be okay and being friends after telling someone that big of a secret isn't a good story.
He was doing you a favour. Yeah, you'll be down about it, but there's literally a bunch of guys out there other than him. You'll move on and get over him quick. All Ruggie had to do was give you that first push. Even if you'd scrap your knee from it.
"I really,really like you, Ruggie and I know this sounds weird seeing that we're both guys but—"
"But what?" Ruggie cut you off before you could finish and all the nerves you were trying to not acknowledge immediately came washing over you as you saw Ruggie's expression shifted into annoyance.
"If you know that this is weird, what were you expecting? Some kind of fairytale to happen?"
He sounded so harsh despite his voice barely budging, and the words he threw at you made your skin cold. Was he mad? Did you actually went and made Ruggie mad? You were hesitant at first to use this opportunity of the two of you being alone to cleanup after club activities to confess to him, but was it a bad move?
"I,well,I...um.." You tried to speak but your words seemed too far away now and instinctively you averted Ruggie's gaze.
This was a mess. An absolute nightmare. And as if it couldn't get any worst, Ruggie started laughing. He started laughing and you could feel your existence cave in on you.
"Man,look at you! You actually did think some kind of lovey-dovey scenario was going to play out, didn't you?"
One of the things you always found attractive about Ruggie was his laugh. It never failed to make you feel better about a bad situation. But as the realization dawned on you that the same laugh was being used to condescend you...You wanted to cover your ears and run away. If only you could though, it was hard to move when your knees felt like buckling down.
"Hey,answer me." Ruggie nudged you in the shoulder and you winced. "Did you think I was going to feel the same?"
No. Of course not. You had a feeling this was going to happen, you kept denying it but it was often there lingering in the back of your mind. You only hoped for a mutual feeling from Ruggie.
"I'm sorry." You muttered out,lips quivering and eyes burning from the tears you fought back. Your throat felt dry and your chest hurt. Scratch that, your heart felt like it fucking stopped and you regretted ever thinking Ruggie would like you.
"What? Now, you're apologizing?" Ruggie sounded frustrated and looking at you trembling from the rejection kinda ticked him off somehow. Were you really a boy if something as simple as a crush got you all teary eyed?
"Look, I don't know what you were expecting from this whole confession thing, but the bottom line here is that I don't like you that way, and I probably never would." He placed a casual hand on your shoulder then, giving you a slight shake before he pulled away and turned on his heels, his hands folded behind his neck.
"So,just drop it okay? See ya around,kid."
The sound of Ruggie's voice along with the light steps he left behind felt too distant for you to actually hear, but the weight of it all, the rejection and hurt that swelled inside you then, seemed too real to be just a simple nightmare.
As you stood there, motionlessly staring at the ground, you felt your heart shattered in your chest, the bits and pieces of its shards prickling into your flesh.
***
"Hey,____!" Deuce was waving his hand in front of your face, his brows furrowed when you looked up at him all dazed and distant.
"You weren't even listening were you?"
"...Sorry,Deuce. I was thinking."
"And here I thought thinking would only hurt Deuce that way but I guess you guys do share a brain cell after all,huh?" Ace was smirking when he said this, obviously pleased with the reaction he got from Deuce who all but scowled at him.
Another class had ended today, and still, you weren't sure you even heard anything that went on throughout each lesson. Ever since your confession, your headspace had been slightly off. It's like you couldn't even go to your own thoughts without replaying Ruggie's words.
You planted your head on your table with a dull thud and both Ace and Deuce looked to you worryingly.
"You look kinda sick,dude. What about you just skip classes for today?"
"Ace, skipping classes will only get him into trouble"
"What are you? His mom?"
Deuce frowned but turned to you instead, staring at you as if he was trying to read your defeated form, and though you knew well enough that neither one of them would know the reason behind your dispirited self, the fear of them actually finding out still bothered you.
So when you lifted your head, you forced on a smile even when the simple gesture felt like tearing off parts of your own skin.
"I'm fine guys,stop worrying or you're really gonna start looking like my mom."
"Yikes" Ace grimaced. "Definitely not letting that happen,no offense. I'm sure your mom's pretty decent"
Deuce was touching his face when he shook his head and crossed his arms. He still looked worried and unconvinced, and it was starting to give you a churning feeling in your stomach.
"Still,I think you should get some early rest today. You look too pale and your eyes are super red. Didn't you get any sleep?"
No. No you didn't. You spent most of your nights staring blankly at your ceiling while your chest throbbed against your ribcages. You couldn't sleep because whenever you did you heard Ruggie's laugh mocking you and then you'd see him glowering down at you like you were the most disgusting thing he's ever seen.
You heaved a shaky sigh, trying so desperately to keep up your smile despite your voice cracking slightly when you spoke.
"It's nothing,really."
Deuce still frowned,but he let the subject go and the three of you spent the remaining day in various classes as usual before school day ended, and you were heading back to your dorms.
"You could stay and hang with us for a bit, bet Riddle wouldn't mind if we told him you were coming over?" Deuce sent you a sympathetic smile, as if somehow despite how dense you thought he was he knew something wasn't right with you, and for a minute, you wondered then why you hadn't fell for Deuce instead. Maybe he wouldn't have been so harsh.
"Thank,Deuce, but Grim stayed behind today cause he claimed one of the ghosts punched him too hard while they were playing and I think having too much alone time for him would be bad"
Deuce laughed and nodded his head.
"See ya around then, Mr. Prefect"
"Yeah. See ya."
The walk back to Ramshackle Dorm felt like an eternity, and as you placed one foot in front of the other, each step heavy and reluctant, you were beginning to wonder if you'll ever get there without passing out. It's been like this for almost a month now. You were eating lesser each passing day too, which didn't really help your already lethargic self. But every food you ate tasted stale, every small thing you did made you too tired and nothing really meant much point to you now. It all seemed so dull, so terribly agonizing. And all because you believed in that stupid dream of yours where Ruggie Bucchi would return your feelings.
You let out a self degrading laugh before rolling your eyes and gritting your teeth.
"What a dumbass" You said, speaking to yourself. "He's right you know, did I really think he was gonna sweep me up in his arms and say he liked me too? What a load of bullshit."
You stopped, shoulders slumping as the air you tried breathing in turned cold and hard to swallow.
How pathetic did you looked to him then? You couldn't help but wonder. Did he feel weirded out? Disgusted? Did he went back and told Leona and made it their joke of the day? The thoughts spiralled you back to square one and suddenly your throat burned.
Staggering to the closest bush, you fell to your knees and began to throw up.
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writingblock101 · 4 years
Text
Teasing (Jason Todd x Reader)
You know, I meant to write this sooner, then I found a really good fic series that I’m going to be posting the link for. 
Request for anon: Jason and Funny 1 (”What do I look like? A knight in shining armor?”) and Fluff 6 (”Do you have any fucking clue what you do to me?”) 
Warnings: it’s a bit sexual so do with that what you will
Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013 
Word Count: 1,700 words
Jason pins you against the wall, his warm hands sliding under your shirt as you knot your fingers into his hair, sucking a dark hickey under his jaw. He groans, one hand pulling you flush against him while the other braces itself against the wall. You smirk to yourself, feeling his fingers twitch against your side as he lets out a sigh. Right under Jason’s jaw has always been one of his sensitive spots which you are always sure to utilize. 
He pulls you into a searing kiss then breaks away for a moment to pull your shirt over your head and shower the newly exposed skin with kisses, love bites, and hickeys. You tilt your head back resting it against the wall with a blissful sigh and wrap both of your arms around Jason’s neck. He hikes one of your legs up against his waist and is about to pick you up when a knock at the door interrupts your activities. 
Jason barely acknowledges the knock, fully picking you up and bracing you against the wall, but you pause, opening your eyes and looking toward the door. 
“Jay, were we expecting anyone today?” 
“Doesn’t matter,” Jason mumbles against your skin, grinding his hips against yours. “They’ll come back,” He promises, kissing you again. 
You give in, melting into the kiss as Jason’s hands slide up your thighs. You run your hands down his defined shoulders. Someone knocks at the door again. This time, you both ignore it, until you hear a familiar voice. 
“Jase? Y/N?” Dick calls. 
“Oh shit,” You curse, breaking away from Jason. “What’s today?” 
Jason frowns but shifts his hands holding you to glance at his watch. 
“The 17th?” Realization dawns on him. “Oh fuck, I completely forgot we invited him over. We could--” 
“We can’t blow him off,” You roll your eyes. “That would be the third time you’ve canceled these plans.” 
“I had valid reasons!” Jason argues. 
“You did,” You admit. “Pop up missions with the Outlaws are valid. Sex isn’t.” 
“I beg to differ,” Jason grinds against you again, showing he is very hard. 
“Wow, sounds like your life is pretty hard,” You grin. 
Jason groans with an eye roll. 
“A dick joke? In a time like this? You wound me.” 
“I don’t see a better time for one,” You grin, giving Jason a quick kiss. “Now, let me down before your brother bothers our neighbors.” 
Jason groans again, mumbling something about Dick being a cockblock, but lets you down so you can put your shirt on. 
“You answer the door,” He grumbles. “I gotta go fix this,” He gestures to his crotch. “Since apparently you won’t help me in my time of need.” 
You roll your eyes with a grin, adjusting your shirt. 
“What do I look like? A knight in shining armor?” 
“No,” Jason murmurs to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss against your ear, making you shiver. “You look like--” 
Dick knocks at the door again. 
“Guys?” He calls hesitantly, interrupting Jason’s last chance to talk dirty to you. 
“Oh, cockblocked again,” You wince with a grin. “Go take care of your friend, horndog. I’ll talk to your brother.” 
Jason grumbles again, smacks your ass then heads back to the bedroom. You open the door to see a very puzzled looking Dick, frowning at his phone. 
“Hey, Dick,” You greet. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you. I was in the bedroom and Jason’s in the shower.” 
“It’s all good,” Dick grins. “I was worried I knocked on the wrong door.” 
“Come in,” You step aside, allowing Dick in. “How are you?” 
Dick shrugs, tossing his jacket on the couch. 
“Just got back from the Manor. I wanted to check on Damian and Duke.” 
“I’m sure they appreciate that, especially Duke.” 
While you haven’t gotten a chance to meet Duke personally, Jason speaks very highly of him. 
“Yeah, I’m not worried about him,” Dick sits on the couch opposite of you. “He’s smart and he’s not looking for Bruce to be his dad which I think will save him from a lot of problems. I’m more worried about Damian.” 
“What’s going on?” You frown. 
Dick sighs, running his hand through his hair. 
“Bruce has been stressed lately so he’s been really throwing himself into being Batman which is leaving Damian in the dust. He’s not being a parent to Damian and I’m afraid Dames is going to do something reckless.” 
“Did you try talking to Bruce?” You try, despite probably knowing the answer. 
Dick chuckles. 
“Went about as well as you think it did.”
“Huge blow out argument?” You wince. 
“Not quiet that bad, but enough for me to storm out of the Cave. I might take Dames back to Blud with me for a few days so Bruce can get his shit together.” 
“He’s going to need a lot longer than a few days to do that,” Jason says as he walks into the living room, his hair wet. 
You notice Dick eyeing the hickey you left under Jason’s jaw, but he doesn’t say anything, probably connecting the dots on the real reason you and Jason didn’t answer the door. 
Dick chuckles. 
“Fair. You heard from Cass recently?” 
Jason shrugs, sitting next to you, his arm stretched across the back of the couch. 
“She sends me selfies. She seems to be enjoying Hong Kong, but I think she misses us.” 
Dick smiles fondly. 
“Yeah, I miss her too, but I’m sure she and Steph are living it up.” 
“Of course they are,” Jason rolls his eyes. “How could they not?” 
The three of you continue catching up, Dick telling you about the craziness in Bludhaven while Jason tells Dick about the Outlaws. Eventually, Dick produces the original reason he and Jason made plans-- Dick was outraged to learn that Jason has never seen Fight Club. Once getting some movie snacks and resettling on the couch, you start the movie, curled up against Jason’s side. 
While you enjoy Fight Club, you’ve seen this movie before and instead get distracted by another idea. You casually spread a blanket over your and Jason’s laps, and glance over at Dick who’s on the opposite couch, engrossed in the movie. Perfect. 
You shift against Jason’s chest, your arm casually laying on his thigh, your hand dangling in dangerous territory. He doesn’t seem to notice, or mind. Instead, he curls his arm tighter around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s when you causally brush your hand over his crotch that Jason tense for a moment. He relaxes again, probably chalking it up to an accident. 
You move again, this time, pressing against him with more purpose, but keeping it brief. Jason quirks an eyebrow, looking down to give you a look, but you smile innocently, and redirect your attention to the movie. You wait a minute, then reach under the blanket and cup Jason through his sweatpants, rubbing your palm against his hardening dick. 
Jason grabs your wrist under the blanket. 
“You are in very dangerous territory,” He murmurs lowly to you, sending chills down your spine. 
You grin mischievously then lean up and press a soft kiss to Jason’s jaw. His grip on your wrist and shoulder momentarily tighten then he shifts his hand so that he’s holding your hand, stopping you from your teasing antics. 
You smile victoriously to yourself, leaning against Jason again. While it’s fun to tease Jason, with Dick being here, it’s a very fine line of teasing Jason versus making him uncomfortable. Some couples might go for the full-on hand-job under the blankets with a relative in the room; however, just as you wouldn’t be okay with Jason doing anything too risky with someone else in the room, you’re not going to give him a hand-job with his brother is sitting on the opposite couch. All your teasing stays above the clothes. 
A few more minutes of the movie goes by before you decide you to try your luck in a different form. You shift against Jason again, this time, wiggling your way into his lap. He adapts easily, wrapping his arms around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulder. 
You lay back against him, happy to let him hold you. In this position, you’re getting the ultimate double whammy. While you are very happy to be close to Jason and shower him with affection, you know every time you shift, you press against his dick, and you know your efforts are not going unnoticed. 
You turn, pressing a kiss to his cheek and lightly scrape your nails up and down his arms. As you shift, Jason’s arms tighten around your waist momentarily. You continue your antics throughout the movie, occasionally moving to kiss Jason’s cheek or neck, or shifting down against him. By the end of the movie, you can feel that he is fully hard. 
“Did you like it?” Dick asks, glancing over at you two once the movie credits start rolling. 
He hasn’t seemed to notice you doing anything unusual which was your intent. 
“It was good,” Jason nods. “I really liked it.” 
Dick grins then stands up, stretching dramatically. 
“Well, I’ve gotta get back to Bludhaven and I’m sure you two want to resume your previous activity from before I got here,” He grins at you and Jason, who’s gone very red. 
“W-what?!” He sputters. 
Dick points at his own neck. 
“Yeah, the hickey isn’t discrete there, dude.” 
Jason glares at you who laughs with a shrug. 
“Sorry, babe,” You grin, not sounding sorry at all.
“Your shower story wasn’t very plausible either,” Dick shrugs while Jason looks like he wants to sink through the couch. 
“Can we talk about something else?” He groans, making Dick laugh. 
“I won’t torture you anymore, Little Wing,” Dick ruffles Jason’s hair who swats at him. “Thanks for letting me hang out. Bye guys!” 
“Bye Dick!” You call to him, then right as the door shuts, Jason has you on your back, pinned to the couch with your hands trapped above your head. 
He hovers above you, using his hips to hold yours in place. 
“Do you have any fucking clue what you do to me?” He murmurs, grinding against you. 
“I can take I guess, but I’d prefer you to show me,” You grin. 
“Gladly,” Jason promises, then dips his head for a long kiss. 
492 notes · View notes
tiaragqueen · 4 years
Note
Can I please request a yandere shinso trying to make his darling notice him again? like, he became kinda popular ever since he got into the hero course everyone praised him, and everyone said hello and hi to him in the hallways, 'you're gonna become a great Hero shinsou!' and he became kinda bratty and slightly arrogant there, but then reader didn't like that anymore so she just avoided him ever since and he was like what the fuck y/n? why aren't you answering me or my texts anymore?! y/n: who u
Imperious
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✂ Pairing: Yandere! Shinsou Hitoshi x General Ed Student! Reader
✂ Word Count: 1,4k+
✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness
[Edited]
***
If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!
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“You’ve changed, you’re not the angel I once knew. No need to tell me that that we’re through. It’s all over now.” - You’ve Changed [Ella Fitzgerald]
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You knew that underneath the cold shoulder you’d been giving to Shinsō lately, lied profound disappointment and dejection over his change of attitude. Your heart would wrench whenever you listened to his arrogant response towards the constant praises and support that surrounded him daily, and tears would prick your eyes whenever he attempted to strike a conversation with you.
Were you overreacting? You didn’t know. All you knew was that he’d stomped on your feelings, on your delicate trust, with his behavior.
And all of this happened without his knowledge.
Not that you’d bothered to tell him, though. It was hard to bring yourself to look at him in the eye and feign a smile. It was hard to avoid him when he always lingered in front of your classroom, waiting for an opportunity that you’d never give. It was hard to ignore his messages when he practically bombarded your phone every day.
Today wasn’t an exception, either.
[06.18 pm] Shinsō: What the fuck, [Name]?! Why do you keep ignoring my texts? First, in school and now this. Heck, you even took a roundabout route just to avoid me yesterday! What have I done to you?!
Seen.
You frowned. How did he know that you took a longer path to your home yesterday? Was he… was he stalking you? No, that was impossible. He must’ve seen you somehow, despite your painstaking efforts to elude him. Then again, if he did spotted you, why didn’t he approach you? Although you wanted to diminish any possibility of confrontation, it’d be strange if he didn’t try to at least grab the chance.
Was he simply biding his time?
[06.23 pm] You: Who the hell are you? Stop spamming my phone.
Seen.
The reply came quickly as if he’d been waiting for yours, or relieved that you finally answered his desperate questions.
[06.23 pm] Shinsō: Very funny. Your first reply and you already made a joke.
Seen.
[06.24 pm] You: I’m not joking, tho. You really should stop spamming me. I don’t know you anymore.
Seen.
[06.25 pm] Shinsō: Oh? So you move on from me now, huh? Got a new friend or something? A boyfriend, maybe? Is that why you’re so cold towards me lately?
Seen.
[06.26 pm] You: The hell are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.
Seen.
[06.27 pm] Shinsō: He can be from another school for all I know. Or maybe it’s Agoyamato. You do seem close with each other, after all.
Seen.
[06.27 pm] You: Stop it.
Seen.
[06.28 pm] Shinsō: Why? Are you scared because it’s the truth? Tell me, how long have you been dating him, huh? Since I transferred to the Hero course? Or is it longer than that?
Seen.
Scowling, you refrained from breaking your phone out of sheer exasperation. This guy thought he could ruin your evening and interrogated you as if he was a disapproving parent or boyfriend. He really had changed for the worst, and you didn’t know whether you should be enraged or calmly confronted him about it. You weren’t sure if you had the courage and patience to do the latter, though. And yet, on the other hand, a sentimental part of you yearned for that forgotten connection and wished to solve things instead. You knew you were being childish with this whole silent treatment stuff, and why the result was counterproductive then your expectations.
If only there was a way for you to sever the ties without hurting you both. But the world hadn’t been kind to you, had it? First, his accession and now, his baseless suspicions over your imaginary relationship with a classmate.
When your mother said that high school time was ‘eye-opening’, you didn’t expect it to be like this. You thought you’d deal with the arbitrary romance or schoolwork, not handling conflict with your ex-friend.
[06.30 pm] You: We are not dating.
Seen.
[06.30 pm] Shinsō: Oh, lying now, are we?
Seen.
You groaned loudly. Why was he being so goddamn difficult?! What did you have to do to convince him that you weren’t and would never date Agoyamato? What did you have to say to knock some sense into that thick skull of his?
No, wait. Why did his opinion matter, anyway? It wasn’t your job to justify things to him, and it wasn’t his job to meddle with your affairs too.
Sighing, you gently massaged your throbbing temples and proceeded to end the conversation. Hopefully, once and for all.
[06.33 pm] You: You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care if you think I’m lying or not, because I already told you the truth. I’m tired and I want to sleep. Goodbye.
Seen.
[06.34 pm] Shinsō: No, this conversation isn’t over yet. Not until I say so.
Seen.
[06.37 pm] Shinsō: [Name]?
Seen.
[06.40 pm] Shinsō: So you’re back to ignoring me again, huh? Very mature, [Name], very mature.
Seen.
[07.00 pm] Shinsō: Look. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just… scared that you found another friend already. I know it sounds silly because you’ll never ditch me like that. But the truth is… I miss you. I miss you so much, [Name], you have no idea. So, please, text me back. You don’t have to speak to me at school, but please don’t ignore me here too. I’m lonely without you. If I could, I would’ve brought you to the Hero course too.
Seen.
[07.05 pm] Shinsō: [Name]?
Seen.
[07.10 pm] Shinsō: [Name], answer me NOW. I know you don’t sleep around this hour, so stop this childish game. It’s not funny.
Seen.
[07.15 pm] Shinsō: Oh, fine! Do you want to keep ignoring me? Go ahead, but I hope you know that there’ll be consequences.
Seen.
[07.15 pm] Shinsō: I will make you notice me again.
Seen.
Frowning, you immediately shut off your phone and rolled to the other side of the bed. You ignored your mother’s call for dinner and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to dispel the last message from your mind. You refused to acknowledge the dread that crept to your chest or his tone of finality.
Nope, it was just your mind overanalyzing a simple and harmless text. There was nothing to be feared about tomorrow. Besides, what could he do to you that wouldn’t garner attention from the students anyway? That’s right, none. Because he was officially the student of Hero course, therefore, his movements would be more examined than other faculties.
He was the face of the school now, so there was nothing for you to be worried about.
That was what you tried to reassure yourself. Then again, the world hadn’t been kind to you ever since your abrupt separation with Shinsō.
It was as though you were doomed to be the bad end of the stick while he got the pleasant one.
“Wah, [Name], I didn’t know you’ve been dating Shinsō-kun!”
“Yeah, why didn’t you tell us? I thought we were friends, [Name]-chan!”
“Who confessed first? Him or you?”
“Are your feelings genuine or are you just dating him because he’s in the Hero course?”
“Man, I know this is late. But congratulation, [Last Name]-san! You’ve got yourself a keeper, you know?”
You clutched the doorframe, trying not to topple from the enthusiastic classmates that crowded you the moment your foot crossed the threshold of General Department class. What was this nonsense they were spouting on? You were dating Shinsō? Didn’t they know, or at least notice, that you no longer hung out with him and actively avoided his presence? You might not go around babbling about your problems to everyone, but you’d thought they could sense the tension that grew when Shinsō tried to confront you in front of the class a few weeks ago.
“W-what are you talking about? We’re not dating, I swear.”
“Oh, really?” A girl sneered and shoved her phone to your face. “Explain this, then.”
Bygone photos of you and Shinsō laughing and eating together burned your eyes more than the bright contrast. Your visage froze in a state of bewilderment and sullenness as she swiped the pictures rapidly and locked the device, barely giving you a chance to process with her challenging yet irritated stare. Overwhelmed with the silent questions that begged for your affirmation – not that they needed it, though, they just wanted to know if you’d be honest or deny it again – you took a step back and glanced over your shoulder.
Sensing your incidental look, Shinsō smirked and waved mockingly from his spot against the windows outside your classroom.
“Hello, girlfriend.” he mouthed.
576 notes · View notes
teawithkpop · 5 years
Text
[M] - PhysCom - Pt 6
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pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6
Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader
Rating: Mature [18+]
Length: 6.0k words
Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)
Warnings: swearing, sex with ulterior motives, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), throat fucking, spanking, clothed sex, unprotected sex, ripping clothes, degradation, throat holding (not to the degree of choking), licking, cum play, it’s nasty it’s just nASTY
I hope you don’t all hate me after this ahahahahahaha love you guys <3
☕💕 If you enjoy this work, please consider supporting me and my writing on KoFi ^^ ☕💕
-------
We must build a brighter future for PhysComs.    They are people, just like you and me, and they are severely undervalued in our society. We employ them, we rely on them, and yet, they are ignored at best, and abused at worst, with punishment and persecution waiting should they dare to speak out about the horrific injustices through which they suffer.    We cannot live in this double standard. I refuse to accept it, and I urge you to open your hearts and imagine what it would feel like to be needed but shamed. To be relied upon, but to never receive recognition for your efforts. They are people, just like us. They live among us, yet they are treated like ghosts.    As of now, Physical Companions are employed by most entertainment companies, but are given no benefits and no job security. They have only the protection of their own agencies and any underground communication they might have between each other.    These people should be respected. They should not be forced to live in the shadows.    It’s time that we acknowledge and thank these tireless workers, and provide them with some support in return for all of the support that they provide this industry.
You read over the words again and again until they become a continuous stream of overlapping thoughts, filling you with utter confusion.
What the fuck does this mean?
You look away from your ComGear and pull up the document on Namjoon’s computer again. “Jungkook!” You call out to him, your heart hammering, and the door opens enough for him to poke his head through, his eyes widened expectantly.
“Yeah?”
You hastily gesture for him to come in, your eyes glued to the screen. “Come read this. Out loud.”
He seems confused, but comes up beside you and looks over the document, murmuring as he reads. “We must build a brighter future for PhysComs…"
As he confirms by reading back to you what you’ve seen with your own eyes, your confusion heightens to a fever pitch, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Is this… an essay? About PhysComs?
“Wow,” Jungkook says softly, his eyes scanning the words in fascination. But when he turns to look at you, you can see that it isn’t fascination at all. His eyes contain something that stirs worry in your gut. “I, uh… I didn’t realize things were so bad for you.”
Pity.
No. No, this is bad. This can’t be happening.
Your brief feeling of ease at finally getting some answers vanishes in an instant as your mind becomes a whirlwind, spiraling down, down, down… You can see, clear as day, what will happen if Namjoon shows this essay to the other boys.
You’ll become someone they pity.
Pity is bad, pity isn’t hot, pity isn’t sexy, pity isn’t fuckable, pity means they’ll feel bad when you do your job, pity means they’ll use other sluts to lessen your burden, pity means they give you more fucking vacation time, pity means they’ll never look at you the same way again, pity means-
You don’t realize you’re short of breath until you’re gasping, hyperventilating, your knuckles white against the dark armrests of the chair.
Jungkook is beside you. He’s saying something but all you can hear is a high pitched whine and the thunder of your own pulse as it crashes in your ears, reminding you with every thump of your beating heart that you’re a failure.
You’ve failed.
You stand up, probably a little too fast, as your vision grows dark in the corners. Jungkook immediately goes to help you when you stumble, but you fend him off.
"I'm fine." You put a hand to your head, trying to force it to stop throbbing. "I don't need your help."
He seems hesitant to reply.
“Where is Namjoon? I-I need to-” Your voice trails off as stars swim in your vision. “Fuck…”
The room becomes blurry, and you feel weightless as you sink to the floor, the distant echo of Jungkook’s frantic voice fading into nothingness.
-------
“Some clients may become… misguided.” Madame paces in front of the class, checking everyone’s form and breathing as they lay on their backs at their stations, legs propped and parted as fucking machines train you all for stamina.
This is a relaxing class, despite the nature of it. After a while, you barely even notice the dildo sliding in and out of you, the whir of the machines becomes background noise. It’s a good chance to focus and meditate.
“They may come to hold… pity for you.” Madame bites on the word as she lowers her ever present riding crop, gently coaxing one girl’s legs further apart.
“They’ll think, aww, the poor little sluts are forced to be used. They’re being objectified. They don’t get a say.” You can barely see Madame’s arm from your position as she drags the riding crop along the girl’s thigh, and the girl shivers in pleasure.
“Pity is useless, girls. This is your job. You don’t pity the mailman for having to be out in the weather. Safety is key, and rules are in place for a reason. That’s why people never hire just one Physical Companion.”
The class snickers at this. The idea is preposterous. PhysComs are always hired in sets, proportional to the amount of clients they’ll be serving.
“You are never forced to serve your client. You are independent contractors. Anything you do for them, you do willingly. This is why we train. To broaden our capabilities, and make ourselves-” Here, she adjusts the setting on one girl’s machine. The dildo moves faster, causing the girl to let out a breathy moan.  “-as flexible as possible for our perspective clients.”
You inhale steadily as Madame examines you, her eye keen enough to pick up every detail of your posture, every twitch of your muscles. She clicks a setting on your machine and you feel the dildo expand slightly in girth, stretching you out further.
You smile and sigh at the stretch, proud to beat your previous record for time needed to move up a size. Madame’s expression gives away no approval, but you can tell from the twitch in her lip that she finds you to be a promising pupil.
She moves on, examining the next girl in line. “Our job is to assure them. To remind our clients why we are here. When we are with our clients, we are purely sexual beings.”
The girl beside you has her hands clapped to her mouth, trying desperately to conceal her noises. You can see her legs quivering and feel a twist of pride at being one of the few people eligible for an orgasm suppressant. Until you get your Opticon implanted, it’s an excellent advantage for stamina training.
Madame returns to her post at the front of the class, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of you as she continues her lecture. “If you are pitied by your client, then you have failed to make them see you as useful. Useless toys are thrown away.”
-------
Regaining consciousness is like being pulled up from the depths.
You vaguely register the softness of a bed beneath you. You blearily open your eyes, and see someone sitting at your side, their face swimming in your vision.
“Jagiya,” Taehyung pets your cheek, his large hands warm against your clammy skin, his voice is gentle. “Are you with me?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, suppressing a groan as you shove yourself onto your elbows.
“Woah, woah,” He stops you, guiding you to lay back down. “Easy there. How are you feeling?”
You feel like shit, honestly. Your head is still pounding and there’s a ringing in your ears, though the dizziness has faded significantly.
“I’m fine,” you croak, surprised at how weak your voice sounds. You wish you had the strength to shove him off, but your hands are braced uselessly on his arms.
A quick glance at your surroundings tells you that you’re back in your bedroom. How did you get here? The memories of what you discovered begin to come back to you, and with them, your sense of urgency returns. You try to push him off again. “N-need to see Namjoon...”
Taehyung shakes his head with an air of duty. “Namjoon isn’t home yet, but he said to keep you company and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.” He rearranges your arms and tucks the blanket up around your shoulders, then reaches for something on the night table and gently coaxes a straw to your lips. “Here, have some water.”
You reluctantly take a sip. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry.
He seems satisfied, and gives a nod before setting the drink down.
"What happened?” You ask with a looming sense of dread.
“You fainted,” he replies somberly.
You squint at him. “Yeah, I meant after that.”
His face brightens in understanding. “Oh! Well, Jungkook said he tried to call Namjoon as soon as you collapsed, but he didn't answer right away so he had to leave a voicemail. Then he brought you back here to your room instead. Carried you the whole way.”
There’s amusement in his eyes, though you can’t imagine what he finds funny about the situation. “It was perfect timing, so I said I’d look after you until you woke up.” He smiles warmly. “And now you’re awake.”
“What do you mean perfect timing?”
His smile falters for a moment. “Because... I just got home from shopping. See?” He says brightly, gesturing to some shopping bags sitting by your door with big name brands on them.
You also notice that your door handle is broken clean off.
“What… happened to my door?” You gape at the sight.
“Oh, I guess it must have been locked when Jungkook brought you home.” Taehyung chuckles. “I don’t think an elephant could have stopped him. You had him really worried.”
Something inside you feels warm at the notion that Jungkook would care so much.
And that warmth is immediately doused by frigid guilt.
Fuck, what are you thinking?
You’ve let them get too close, you’ve let them see your struggles, you’ve let them see you as a human being, as someone to worry about, instead of a mindless toy. Namjoon has written an entire persuasive essay about the supposed plight through which he believes you’re suffering.
You’ve become too relaxed around them. Fuck, you’re sitting here letting Taehyung fuss over you, when you should be offering him your body, sucking him dry, and letting him fuck your brains out.
That document puts things back into perspective. Letting this… tentative emotional connection that you've started with them go any further could be career ruining. Not just for you, but for the rest of their PhysComs. The dozens of Secondaries they employ could be at risk for losing their jobs too, if your clients suddenly feel guilty for using your services.
And then what? The members’ sexual drives will get out of hand. They won’t be regulated, they might stick their dick into a lucky fan and end up with a pregnancy scandal to cover up, or they’ll become tired, sluggish, and distracted due to unregulated sexual maintenance, which could affect their performance.
You are a necessary piece of their daily routine, their health, their jobs.
Vacation be damned, you are not about to let Namjoon’s blind optimism put himself, the other boys, or your own career at risk. It's for his own good.
You should have deleted the damn document when you had the chance. But it would have been too late anyway. Once they see you in that light, once they start pitying you, then that flicker of doubt will linger in their minds no matter how much you try to extinguish it.
You need to remind them of your place.
Jungkook and Namjoon are lost causes, they’ve both been exposed to the document’s propaganda. But there's still that mysterious vote they’ll be having by the end of the week, presumably about your future. That means you still have a chance. If you can convince a majority of them to view you once more as a purely sexual being…
You try to clear your head, mustering your strength to serve, but before you can ask Taehyung how he wants to use your body, he speaks.
“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving.”
Your whole body tenses. You don’t like where this is going. He’s starting to sound an awful lot like Namjoon.
Taehyung seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans closer and bestows a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s time for you to receive.” His eyes are warm as he stares down at you, and he holds a glimmer of something secretive in his smile, like he just told a private joke.
Your confusion grows. “Taehyung… what are you talking about?”
“He’ll be here any minute,” he says by way of an answer, and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Just relax, jagiya. You deserve this.”
“What do you-?”
But before you can question what he means and why he’s acting so strangely, your door swings open, and Min Yoongi enters.
“Here to take over,” he says, his mouth and nose still covered by the same black mask from earlier.
Taehyung looks surprised, almost shocked. “Where’s Jimin? He was supposed to-”
“Asked me to come instead.” Yoongi lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Said something about not feeling right.”
You look between the two of them. Taehyung’s mouth flaps like a fish and Yoongi sighs, coming over to take his place. “Come on, you’ve been up here for hours.”
Hours? What time is it? You reach for your ComGear and find that it’s not in your utility belt.
“No, but Jimin is supposed to-” 
Oh, there it is. Plugged in, resting on your night table. Maybe Jungkook saw that the battery was low. That boy is way too considerate.
“Why don’t you go check on him, then?” Yoongi doesn’t give Taehyung any room for argument, staring him down. “I think he went to the practice room.” 
Why is it on the settings screen? Shouldn’t it still be in your emails from earlier…? Weird.
Taehyung reluctantly stands up and takes a few steps towards the door, shifting his weight with uncertainty. He looks to you, then back at Yoongi. “But she was about to ask me something.”
You put aside your ComGear, pushing away any prior thoughts to focus on your mission. “It’s okay, we’ll talk later,” you assure him with a nod, your mind whirring into action.
You have to remind five men of your place as their personal sex slave, if all goes well. The order in which you remind them of this is inconsequential. Plus it might be more effective to go for Taehyung later. He may be less eager to fuck you after nursing you back to health.
But Yoongi… you haven’t seen him since earlier in the day. Yoongi doesn't have feelings for you. Yoongi’s only ever known you as a slut, which makes him an easy target.
Taehyung doesn’t look happy about leaving, but he nods, retrieves his shopping bags from the floor, and gives both of you a final glance before shutting the door.
You wait just long enough to know Taehyung is out of earshot. Yoongi walks over to your vanity, takes off the jacket he’d been wearing and drapes it over the back of the chair, leaving himself in a plain black t-shirt and black sweatpants.
While he isn’t looking, you carefully sit up and shed your oversized hoodie, leaving you topless. Time to get back to business.
You take a deep breath and slip into your persona. It feels good to wear it again, you feel less dizzy, more focused. Ready to fuck.
“Did you miss me, Master Min?”
Yoongi freezes, his back to you. You suppress a laugh. You know you’ve caught him off-guard.
“I’m sorry?” He tugs down his face mask and turns around, only to see you in nothing but a pair of leggings, perched prettily on the edge of your bed. His eyes widen only marginally, but it’s a big reaction, coming from him. "What are you doing?"
You tilt your head to the side and cover your breasts with your hands, groping and squeezing them together. “What do you think I’m doing, Master?” You bite your lower lip, keeping eye contact with him while you feel yourself, rolling a nipple between your fingers. “You always tell me to show off my pretty body.”
Yoongi looks off to the side, averting his eyes to your actions, but the tent forming in his pants tells you he didn’t look away soon enough. “Stop fucking around. You're suspended.” He says, echoing your words from earlier in the day.
You hum in agreement, a pout forming on your lips. “Mm, but I don’t want to be.” You let out a desperate, breathy sigh. “I want to be filled with your cock, Master. I need it.”
You watch his adam’s apple bob. His weight shifts. His lips press together. Every movement you analyze for signs of weakness. It’s like playing chess.
“I know you want me, Master,” you purr, sprawling back onto the bed. You bring one hand down to your core, massaging your mound through the stretchy material. “I’m yours for the taking. No one has to know.”
"Is that what you really want?" He asks with a distinct note of skepticism.
You bristle, but try to hide your irritation. Here they go again with their fucking consent.
“Yes, of course, Master.” You mold your face into submissive desire. “It's my dream to be a good little slut for you. Being stuffed with your thick cock, pounded into the mattress, and pumped full of your seed,” you whine, grinding against your hand for effect. It feels good, better than usual, and you come to find that you mean what you said. 
Sex actually sounds good right now, if you’re being honest. A good fucking might be just what you need to forget your worries, so it’s really a win-win.
You sense Yoongi’s hesitance, and you try to think of a way to convince him that you’re serious. The only off-the-clock sex you’ve had so far was with Hoseok, and that had been… far too intimate. But maybe some of the same principles could apply here. Hoseok had wanted you to want it. He’d asked you to use his name.
“Yoongi,” you breathe his name, dropping your character for just a moment. His eyes snap to yours. “I want you.”
He stares at you for a second. Two. Then he’s hovering over you, hands planted on either side of your shoulders.
“You want me?” His breath is warm and heavy, and you can see the way his pupils dilate when he looks at you.
Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected intensity. You nod, your lips slightly parted as he holds his body only inches away from you.
He seems at war with himself, his jaw working as his eyes roam down to your chest, then travel slowly back up, settling on your widened eyes, your pink bitten lips.
"Fuck it," he mutters, and surges down to crush his lips to yours.
It's unexpected. He's never shown any interest in kissing you, he's always preferred shoving his fingers in your mouth.
But you're grateful for that, because if he'd ever tried to kiss you before, you don't think you would've been able to keep your composure.
Yoongi is like fire. His lips are searing with passion, his tongue flickers and licks into your mouth. It's a stark contrast to his icy fingers as they brush against your ribs.
He's full of contradictions. His kiss is greedy but controlled. He grinds his thigh between your legs, causing you to moan, but his hands are feather light as they caress your breasts. He's fire and ice.
You feel yourself getting hotter by the minute, and all too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, leaving you gasping as he trails his mouth down your neck, biting a bruise there.
"Ah! Yoongi…" Your fingers twine through his hair of their own accord, and you're appalled at how easily you've given in to your desires. But it's all for the cause. You're saving careers.
He groans, his voice low and tempting as he kisses and licks your skin. "You really want me, princess?"
Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. "Yes. Fuck, yes, please…"
"You want me to fuck that greedy cunt of yours? Fill you to the brim?"
His words light a fire in you, and you writhe beneath him. "I want it so much, Master. Please fuck me…"
He grabs your jaw. "You're my slut."
He says it more like a question than a statement. You nod as much as he'll allow.
He drags his thumb across your cheek and dips it into your mouth. "You're mine. I can use you however I want…"
You didn't think he'd be so easy to convince. Well, mission accomplished, you suppose. One down, four to go.
You suck greedily on his thumb in answer, widening your eyes to draw him in. He hums, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag around the digit.
"Good girl." His eyes are half lidded as he looks at you. Then something changes, a sharp glint appearing in his gaze as he removes his thumb and squeezes your jaw, forcing your mouth open.
He licks past your lips in a kiss of complete dominance. Despite his control, he's gentle, savoring your taste, praising you for it between breaths.
While your mouth is occupied, his other hand snakes down to cup your heat, palming you through your frustratingly thin leggings. His dexterous fingers find your clit faster than you would expect, and he circles the pads of his fingers there intently, nothing but the thin material separating him from your skin.
You buck into his hand, though you hope he doesn't keep you there for too long. You know the ache between your thighs will only get worse with no release.
"So fucking wet…" he mutters, pulling back from exploring your mouth to lick a possessive stripe up your cheek. "Tell me how much you want me, slut. Beg for it."
"Please!" You whine, falling into the familiar routine. "Please, Master, all I want is your cock inside me! I need it, I want it so badly…"
Yoongi exhales through his nose, and soon he's up and off of you. "All fours."
This is what you're used to. The familiarity of being told what to do, knowing what's going to happen next, it makes you relax. You get in the position he asks, wiggling your ass towards him.
But Yoongi needs no encouragement. He spanks you hard, rubbing his hands all over the smooth material covering your ass. "Fuck, so juicy…"
He's silent for a moment, and his hands still. You're about to say something to provoke him when there's the distinct noise of ripping fabric behind you. Your hips jerk towards him as he tears the seam of the leggings right down your core, exposing you.
"Yoongi!"
But he's already digging in, dragging his tongue along your folds and sucking at your dripping cunt. His hands grip your ass, spreading you apart for him, and you quiver, his tongue igniting sparks as it plunges within you.
You try not to let it get to you, but the lack of constant sex must have made you extra sensetive. Every thrust and flicker of his tongue has you breathless, squirming, needing more. It was never like this before, you have to pull yourself together. Keep control.
But Yoongi seems to like your enthusiasm. He hums, and the vibrations buzz at your clit, sending tingles straight up your spine. You let out a shriek of surprise as he sucks on the overly sensitive bud and you feel yourself throb.
Fuck, he's too good at this. How did he get so good at this? Your arms give out, and you fall onto the bed, your face buried in the duvet as Yoongi fucks you expertly with his tongue.
"S-stop…" you plead weakly, trying to avoid the inevitable disappointment that will soon follow if he keeps this up.
"What? I didn't hear you use your safeword, slut." He growls, landing a warning spank on your rear ashe rises onto the bed behind you. A shuffle of fabric as he pulls down his sweatpants. "You like this, don't you? You like being exposed. Being treated like a pornstar? Dirty girl."
You do. Fuck, you do. Especially when Min Yoongi happens to be the actor starring with you.
You feel him tap the head of his cock against your ass, slide the thick length along your center. "Look at how fucking wet you are already. So desperate... pathetic."
You feel a flash of heat at his assessment. Yoongi's always enjoyed a little degradation, but his choice of words hits a little too close to home in this particular scenario for you to fully embrace it.
You cover your embarrassment with a thicker cloud of pretend. "Of course I'm dripping, Master. I'm your fuck doll. I live to service your cock..."
"Damn right, you do." He shoves into you without warning, and you gasp for real. Fuck, you've been denied dick for less than twenty-four hours, and you're already off your game? Come on, shake it off. Get in the rhythm of it.
But Yoongi sets such a relentless pace, it's impossible for you to keep up. It's as if he's got something to prove. He fucks into you so hard it hurts. You moan and try to relax, try to cling to the familiarity, but you feel a weird pressure building in your chest. It makes it hard to breathe, hard to focus.
He takes your moans and gasps as a sign to go harder, and he leans over you, pressing his chest to your back. His hand slips around your neck, holding you in place while he growls against you, his nose digging into your cheek. "Gonna fuck the living shit outta you… yeah? That's what you want? Gonna make you see stars and beg for my cock, over and over until I say so."
You moan in gratitude. You're grateful he's so easy to convince. You're his slut, and he knows it. This is where you belong. You feel happy. Safe. You smile, closing your eyes as Min Yoongi fucks into you like a freight train, and you finally get a moment’s peace from the past day’s turmoil.
He suddenly grunts, lifting himself off of you. "This cock belongs in your filthy mouth." He pulls out of you and takes you firmly by the shoulder. You hastily follow his implications to sit up.
He grabs his cock at the base and guides it to your face, nudging your cheek and spreading the coated wetness across your skin. You get a glimpse of his length - rock hard, nearly purple, and leaking - before he stuffs it down your throat. You relax, humming and taking all of him and gagging obediently upon request, just like always.
"Such a good whore, yeah…  just like that," he moans, bracing his hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "This is how it should be, yeah?"
You hum around him in confirmation, glad that you're both on the same page.
"You're our slut. Nothing will ever fucking change that… " he starts rutting into your mouth, and you obediently let him fuck your throat.
He huffs, his voice dropping lower, “No use pretending you can be anything else.”
The change in his tone of voice is so stark, it gives you pause. You almost lose your concentration. He sounds almost... sad? Why would he be sad? Are you doing something wrong?
You redouble your efforts to please him.
"Look at you. So filthy." He praises you softly as you gurgle around him, drool starting to leak from your mouth. His roughness starts to return at the sight of you, and you beam with pride as he resumes his filthy dialogue. "This is what you want, isn't it? To choke on our dicks all day, huh? This what you signed up for?"
He pulls out to let you gasp in a breath, then shoves right back down. He does this a few more times, letting the blowjob get sloppy. You nod desperately between thrusts, assuring him of your devotion. You graze your hands over his clothed thighs, caressing him while he fucks your throat.
“Nothing else matters.” Yoongi huffs, and as his face swims back in forth in your vision, he looks resolute.
You surge forward to hold his length down your throat, swallowing around him, your nose touching his abdomen.
He groans, pulling your hair taut and holding you in place. "Yeah, that's it…. You were built for this, weren't you?"
He finally lets you come back for air, but no sooner do you take a messy gasp than he pushes you backwards onto the bed and crawls on top of you.
"Say it." He grabs you by the jaw again, and his voice is low and soft, his eyes like hot coals. "Tell me what you want."
You sputter and gasp, still reclaiming your breath, but obediently say what he wants to hear. "I want you, Yoongi. I want your cock..."
He let go of your face and hoists your legs up, bending you in half. "You're gonna get it, too," he mutters, grabbing your calves, keeping them up and out of the way as he shoves his thick cock into you again.
You moan compliantly, gasping and staring up at him. This is all going according to plan, you just have to hang on and not let your throbbing pussy distract you from the goal.
"You want to be a whore, huh?" He asks, maintaining a gravitational sort of eye contact as he slowly slides in and out of you, torturing you. "Cum for me. Cum around my cock."
You shiver and within a few moments, clench around him convincingly, letting your eyes roll back as you moan in delight.
"Cumming on command, within seconds... look at that." He braces your legs with one arm and starts rubbing your clit with his other hand as he picks up the pace. You feel a jolt as his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves, and you actually flinch.
"So sensitive." He growls, reading your mind. "What a needy cunt."
You can't form any words, the way he's kneading your clit has your head thrown back, your breath coming in gasps. It’s never felt like this.
Yoongi picks up on your arousal, and quickly gains speed, fucking you relentlessly, with little grunts of his own as he keeps you spread wide open for him, watching as your pussy takes his cock over and over again.
After endless minutes of stimulation, your core is swollen and aching, but still somehow desperate for more.
Yoongi's hips buck and stutter, and without warning, he leaves you painfully empty, clenching around nothing. His cock in his fist, he pumps himself to completion, letting his seed cover your puffy, aching pussy.
"Yeah, yeah, that's it…" he grunts, using his cock head to smear his release along your folds.
You start to relax, trying to overcome the disappointment your body feels at getting frustratingly uselessly stimulated.
But before you know it, Yoongi is lining himself up with your entrance again. "You thought we were done?" He chuckles darkly, using his cock to collect cum around your entrance, then he sheathes himself to the hilt with a low groan.
It feels so fucking good, you can't think straight. You cry out, your body desperate and screaming for more but knowing it's not enough, and it'll never be enough.
"Yeah, you want it deep inside you, don't you, you little cum slut?" He mutters, shoving his fingers into your mouth, and you're grateful that he's muffling your embarrassing noises.
"Gonna fuck you like the worthless little whore you are," he barks, ruthlessly slamming into you, and you moan with every thrust.
You would have said something if you still had an ounce of coherent thought in your brain, but the sensations are quickly taking over. Your whole body is wound up, desperate for something. His fingers reach down to rub hastily at your swollen clit and your vision blurs, your pulse pounds in your ears - are you going to faint again?
No.
You peak.
A scream catches in your throat, broken and gutterel as pleasure takes over your entire body, coursing through you in waves, lifting your body off the bed, convulsing, throbbing through you, inside and out.
It feels so good it hurts. You want to stay in this moment, extend it for as long as possible, but you know there's something wrong. Your mind is so addled, you're scared, terrified, before you even remember why.
You shouldn’t be capable of climax. Something’s wrong.
Yoongi keeps fucking you, grunting as you clench around his cock, but you're clawing at him, begging him to stop, tears leaking down your cheeks. Something’s wrong.
He realizes you aren't moaning anymore, but wailing. Sobbing. Something's wrong. He pulls out of you, shouting to be heard above your panic. He looks scared. Guilty.
Just then your door bursts open, and Jimin enters the room with a shout, quickly followed by Taehyung.
“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”
Taehyung’s mouth falls open, and he appears too alarmed to speak, apart from a very small, “Fuck.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? What’s your fault?” Yoongi’s shouts at Jimin and Taehyung are drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears as your shoulders shake from dry sobs. Your eyes flash between the two younger members, their guilty expressions, and you remember your private conversation with Jimin just yesterday.
"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."
"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."
He’s the only one you’ve ever told.
“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-”
Your ComGear. The settings.
You're too shocked, too betrayed, too sore to get up on your own. You feel some of Yoongi’s release drip down your leg, and a robotic voice fills your mind, drilled into you from the hours of safety lectures you’d had to sit through during training.
… If at any point the user experiences orgasmic sensations before, during, or after sexual activities, then this may be a sign of malfunction in the Opticon Miracle Implant, rendering the user susceptible to sexually transmitted disease and/or pregnancy. Side effects of a malfunctioning Opticon Miracle Implant could become severe, or in some cases life-threatening, if left untreated. Please consult your local physician and refrain from any sexual activity until the Opticon Miracle Implant may be examined by a specialist.
They’re all shouting now, and you feel your throat constrict in horror at the implications of what just happened. The words get caught in your chest, bubbling up with your mounting fear, and finally fall from your lips in a raw cry for help.
"Someone call an ambulance!"
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tarotchariot · 4 years
Text
Return with past pick a card
Pick a card reading: Dealing with the hurt
This is a free pick a card reading for those going through a challenging or hurtful situation. I’m not certain how these will turn out, but I hope they bring some kind of clarity, peace or comfort to any of you. I understand that some may feel lost and almost begging silently for some help, yet not seeing anything to get advice or a sense of stability from again.
I will use 6 groups to choose from, believe it or not - simply because to me, 6 symbolises harmony and reciprocity. Please know that you are not alone, and something will find you in a wonderful moment.”
So moving on, please take a quiet moment and use your intuition (for example taking 3 deep breaths and clearing your mind, or envisioning a number perhaps)
And choose between the numbers 1, 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , or 6
____________________________________________________
Group 1 :  
Knight of water, The dreamer, Unity, 3 of air, synchronicity
Alright you guys, you had quite a few cards here. At first glance, it’s appearing like a new start is necessary. Maybe something didn’t go well at work or school, or what you thought was a solid and stable place has become uncomfortable due to someone in your vicinity.
It’s odd, it’s looking like someone wasn’t entirely truthful. The angels want to point out that there will always be light and dark.
Getting the vibe of feeling left out, not part of the group anymore. Or at least not feeling like you are. Maybe someone has literally excluded you or pushed you out because of something they see as “bad” in accordance to the groups beliefs or interests. I’m seeing a crisis of faith here.
There’s quite a few possibilities. I’m seeing, maybe for just one singular person that they have lost someone that mattered very much to them. I get such a playful and light hearted energy about the person. Whether you believe in life after death or not, if it were for certain a thing I could say one thing they would be saying to you, even now: Please laugh, have fun.There are so many things to be happy about.
There is a deep loneliness, and for that I feel for you, so much. Your Angel(s) are right next to you.
For others, feeling left out or excluded, most likely undeservedly. However, I’m getting the message that you are being guided to a new way of thinking and being, and to acknowledge that there is good and bad in everyone. No one is perfect, we each have our shadow. Please try not to take their treatment of you personally. It’s more to do with them, and not you. It is projection. It’s likely you have witnessed and seen who can be trusted and cannot. Run with that fact and hold the lovely one(s) close.
Those in this group are being guided extremely in the form of synchronicity. Please be on the look out for further advice, and insight through the following forms, and even more:
Music that really resonates Conversations you over hear Signs out and about Seeing a similar image many times Hearing the same kind of message similar times An idea keeps popping up in your mind Some of you may want to move forward with a creative project. It’s encourages as it will aid you in positively letting out your emotions. Not only that, it may be simple and overlooked, but simply by just spending time and being around any loved one or friend (not even talking directly about your situation) will give a small bit of peace and gratitude.
This is a signal of a new chapter, and you are guided to have the fun you are meant to have.
Hope that did somethin’.
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GROUP 2: 
Queen of earth, Page of air, Ace of earth, The miracle of forgiveness
There seems to be an issue surrounding give and take. Queen of earth talks about kindness, practicality and nurturing. It could also symbolise a mother, or someone who has motherly energy.
With the theme of pentacles, the material, and page of air here who seems to have a wolf around them, I wonder if you have been taken advantage of in the material sense (financially, physically). And it seems you are very aware of this, since forgiveness is the crux, and the advice. It’s like the more you get, the more they take.
I’m seeing there might be debt as well. I’m seeing someone here who has had to uphold a whole lot. You’re the kind that can make things happen. I’m also seeing great resentment, and that doesn’t happen from just anything. Yes, I can’t help but see someone else having a hand in your finances and do whatever they like, or did that in the past. Wasteful. Basically - it’s not fair and it’s cruel, because there’s something here that I see that you want to do, but this is getting in your way.
I’m seeing a talent in you that is not to be wasted. Know that it cannot be taken away - it is yours, and god given, No one can truly take what matters. The comment I receive from the angels is that the abundance for you will always come. What is truly yours and needed will always find its way to you. I feel a very powerful solidarity, independence and ambitious feeling.
Your future is yours, not theirs. Not anybodies.
I would like to also say, that despite this, there really is actually love still there. Whether you want anything to do with them in the future is another thing. You’re asked to (in whatever tiny way you can) try and understand them. Understanding is the first step to forgiveness. And forgiveness opens up doors and new energy for you personally.
I recommend that you try and understand the truth of forgiveness, and not just what you hear or see on tv, This could become something that actually drives you further.
I really see you as such an inspirational and strong person.
That’s what I see for you, thank you.
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GROUP 3: 
Page of earth, six of earth, awakening, eight of air, take time to breathe
So here there are themes of feeling trapped, having to wait, unemployment/difficulty finding a job or career and possibly even being taken advantage of as a student or in a low level job as a trainee. Off the top of my head.
Patience is a big note here. Something is not happening as fast as you would like here, and I can understand how scary/stressful that can be. You might be scared about your security or future here. I’m seeing that you have put a lot of effort into this situation. I’m also seeing that maybe you have felt alone as well, hints of valentines keep coming up.
I’m seeing that you might be under a lot of scrutiny/judgement, so I’m wondering if you guys have been suffering in terms of anxiety or being just plain down, or more. If you have been struggling with confidence or motivation or anxiety, I encourage you see a professional or join a support group/forum online. Even talking things out in a journal can release a lot of that pent up energy,
I’m sensing a lot of pressure that you may be placing on yourself, and I hear the angels want me to say “Darling” withsuch love and care. Please give your worries to the angels. They say they will take care of them. And will take care of some issues.
Oooh, I am truly seeing so many pent up emotions that they encourage you get out - if you have to scream at the ocean, or in a car, do it.
Get it all out, empty your mind for some quiet time, and just be.
You will see the appropriate solutions at the right time, and as a result of taking your mind away from its current habits, you will be so much more capable of seeing them.
Please, give yourself a break. The angels want you to see just how good things are in some ways, and how much you may be focusing too much on others.
Take some time and be willing to see things differently, things can change just that much. The angels want to say how much they love you and adore you, feeling much love for you here. I hope you can feel the peace they want to send you in this writing. And you are capable of so much.
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GROUP 4: 
King of water, The magician, Live your joy
With the king of water here, it’s showing you may be finding it difficult to trust people or life. What feels difficult here is that you may not be receiving the help or advice that you deserve and should be receiving as a default.
It might be showing that a paternal figure in your life is withholding themselves or even being manipulative. Basically, not being the role model they should be.
More than anything though, I’m seeing that you want to create something, something that really gives you joy, that truly speaks for you and is your honest expression. Which makes me think: perhaps there is someone who doesn’t like that. There is certainly an abrasiveness there.
For whatever reason, perhaps someone here doesn’t accept you, or your self expression, or whatever it is that makes you feel right.
When it comes to this, the answer is very simple. Choose to release those binds.
How, you ask.
2 things. simply practice this self expression or take part in whatever it is that you want - that will set the energy up. 2. raise your vibration. Do not involve yourself in the negativity, refuse to take notice of anyone elses expectations or judgements. in general have more fun, express gratitude, see the positive
Truly embrace whatever this is. If it has to be, let it be at night when others are asleep, and build your confidence. Change things bit by bit.
a few of you here may be psychic, or have a spiritual hobby or talent. Embrace this role, you are meant to be someone who spreads higher knowledge and support.
There’s someone I see that plain just doesn’t like change. But hey, since when did it have everything to do with them? never. This is you. The message I’m getting for you guys is: be proud. Be so darn proud of you. No one will ever be big enough to diminish you. You, in spirit, the divine part of you, will always be such a special and wonderful thing to behold. When you live your joy and your truth, you shine like no one else. Let this change you, shape you and gravitate towards joy no matter what this person, or people say. You can create the life you want.
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GROUP 5: 
Three of fire, ten of earth, express your creativity
I’m seeing some distance with loved ones here. perhaps there has been a quarrel, a falling out. Or perhaps a family member has moved a fair bit away. I’m feeling a family or community that was once warm, has experienced some kind of change that has left you feeling quiet, humble and retrospective.
if this is not family, it could be a group of friends that felt like family, or a job where you felt like a family with the team.
I’m seeing for sure for some, that there was a blow up and the effects are still rolling. You may feel as if the effects won’t end, but it appears you will be left alone in that way for the time being. It seems very much on your mind.
It is really looking like the aftermath of a big storm here, a sweeping change or an eruption from an argument that has separated two or more people. For a couple of you it might have been triggered by something very small. I’m seeing a lot of hurt here, true heartbreak. Please know that there will be peace. Things always calm after a storm.
No one seemed to be necessarily right or wrong, it appears to have been something that simmered in the distance for a long time.
All I can say is now, you are on solid ground and it’s time to calm down from it all. Something the angels want to put forward is that the strangest things happen, and we may not understand for the longest time, but it triggers the right change for us, or sets us on a certain route for our most divine path.
I’m seeing the universe, and its connections and paths that we all take, that as humans we couldn’t understand. I do see that one day, when you are comfortable and feeling at home, safe (which I promise you will be) - you will get the zap of a vision. How things worked out. Why. What it led to.
Moving forward I can see the suggestion of working as a co creator and envisioning how you want things to go. What do you want for yourself, or you and your family. What kind of connections do you want. Be as creative and imaginative, and extreme as you want.
The message I get from the angels, again and again, is calm. Take time to be calm, cool down from it all, take a rest, and feel your angel/guide next to you, supporting you and shielding you.
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GROUP 6: 
seven of water, renewal, knight of earth, the inner voice
For some, I’m seeing being worried about the loyalty/faithfulness of another - the recommendation seems to be to look at the dedicated actions of the person. Do they display through action and practical means that you are their priority? (other than their purpose or work of course). Use this as an opportunity to both review if you feel you are receiving the level of dedication and care that you deserve and need.
Perhaps your person has been unfaithful in the past and you decided to give them another chance, but again, there is worry. There are too many factors that you may be holding onto from the past that have no part of the thought process you should be taking, or judging with currently.
So either way, it appears to be a time when you need to judge for yourself, are you able to trust the other or if this gives you what you need. Are you willing to go forward with it? Not just recklessly, not for the sake of it, but after great thought and deliberation.
For others, I’m seeing feeling at a loss as to what to do next in their life/career.I know all too well that this can feel scary and like a major crisis. Straight up, I can say from experience that the answers come gradually, and in a relaxed way in the right timing.
The guidance in both cases is to listen to your inner voice, your higher self.
I know, it sounds a bit annoying, or like it might not give you fast answers but it’s the way that you can feel confident in your own conclusion. It won’t come from anyone elses judgements, words or coercion.
Come to a point where you know you, you know what you want and need, and you only accept the right things.
When it comes to making your decision or conclusion, you may need to discern whether this comes from the angels or higher self, vs the ego. If it comes from the ego, it will speak in terms of winning, of gaining something, or appearing a certain way. If it’s from spirit, it’s often for the highest good of everyone involved, is sympathetic, loving and understanding. It does not judge, only seeks to help.
I would like to affirm for everyone here, that there is much love for you here. And let everything you do, be because of love. Of yourself, and others.
Thank you.
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“Wowwwww that was a lot. Guys, I hope that helped in some tiny way.
I do this simply out of love. I wish you all the best.”
(A copy of an old pick a card reading by myself, not shown on this account until now)
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