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g1rlken · 6 months

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hi dolly! 💕i just discovered ur blog n i love ur writing sooo much! 🙈💞 can u pls do 2 or 16 for nate!! 💗💗

you’re so freaking nice woah I love u sm 😠🫶🏼

Prompt: 2. Sunshine x grumpy + 16. Help get out of a toxic relationship

Nate Jacobs x fem!reader

2.7k words

Just the ninth if not the tenth party of the month. Another house party, on a school night, way past her usual bedtime and really overwhelming that it just won’t near its end. Y/n couldn’t bare it sometimes but she had to attended because her boyfriend Ryan did. It was fun though, driving him home as he’d be piss drunk and the party itself had the most obnoxious teenage charm. In order to block out on the godawful bass and flickering lights y/n guided herself into the kitchen when Ryan most probably didn’t even notice.

“Oh what have we here!” Nate exclaimed as he followed in some time after, she jumped down from the kitchen counter where she previously sat with an awkward smile. She’d known of Nate and him partially. They were supposed friends ever since that one term last year where she had to tutor him. Though they didn’t really reconnect after that once she started seeing Ryan. It was somewhat majorly due to him that y/n didn’t see a lot of her friends who seemed potential threats to him.

“Hi” she greeted him awkwardly looking out the door to see if Ryan was coming, she was scared he’d cause a scene if he saw her with Nate. Even if it was just a conversation, two of them at a reasonable distance with a probable small talk following. Ryan wouldn’t have it, he’d loose his shit over her even breathing in the direction of some other guy.

Nate could tell that she was a bit frantic over something and he was fast to connect it was a ‘someone’ rather. “What are you doing here all alone?” He asked pouring himself a glass of water.

“Nothing really just uh-“ she tried thinking of proper words to say. But the soft dread of Ryan walking in any minute made her mind preoccupied.

Nate interrupted her pause, “Beer pong’s too boring for you? Already calculated the probability of winning?” He joked, when she had helped him with math and there were similar questions as such counting probably of winning a coin toss. So it was a small jab from something between them.

A small laugh seemed to escape her genuinely as he correlated their previous connection through maths, “I didn’t think about that wow…” she trailed off, “one throw amongst ten glasses”

“One in ten probability of winning.” He answered his instant calculation.

“I don’t know the glasses are set up like a triangle and they’re not all equally probable to get in, maybe we take like one row at a time and then apply bayes theorem for each-“ she was going off about the self curated math problem between the two of them as he listened intently but looked absolutely clueless so she stopped herself “oh wait I’m rambling aren’t I? Sorry” she cringed to herself letting out a soft chuckle.

“It’s alright sweetheart” he added with a shrug, “I like hearing you talk.”

“Surely because math is so fun isn’t it?” She said sarcastically rolling her eyes at him.

“It’s not. But when you talk like that, it’s fun to watch.” Nate replied just mildly, contrary to his chance making intentions out of this conversation. Even apart from that he did mean that, he’d missed it, her.

“Like what?”

“That…” he pointed to her face vaguely, unable to describe how her eyes lit up and a cheery tone followed her voice whenever she talked about something she liked without being made felt like it was a chore to the listener “You get all smiley...happy. When you talk about something you love”

“Well I don’t necessarily love math.” She told him, it was true. Despite of being good at something, having a passion for it was unilateral to it.

“I guess you love being heard then.” It might just have been a note as Nate mentioned it so casually but as she thought about it, she couldn’t help but wander back to Ryan and how he never listened.

No. That couldn’t be, everyone’s a different lover perhaps “Yeah…” she trailed off with a small smile as her expression fell. Comprehending those moments where talking to Ryan about something in her life would just feel like talking to a wall.

“What’s wrong?” Nate asked catching on her fallen expression.

“What?” She asked confused, nonchalant because surely he wouldn’t fix anything “Nothing…”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, what’s wrong?”

“What?” She frowned but couldn’t help laugh when she saw his ever so concerned face like her smile falling was that big of a deal. “Nothing’s wrong!” As a joke, she splashed some of the tap water on his flickering it on him through her fingers. She laughed as he took the attack of tiny droplets.

“You did not just-“ if it were some one else he would’ve most probably said the worst cusses in the book but with her he just let out a small huff.

“Did what?” She attempted to sprinkle his face once again but this time he got a hold of her wrists with one of his hands, she couldn’t contain her laughter. It was infectious to him as well, this light hearted moment was flooded all over like a forest fire with an irking voice.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” Ryan seethed, y/n immediately pulled her hands away from Nate’s as that boy strided in.

“W-we uh were just talking” y/n spoke frantically, it was disheartening to Nate to see her all panicky and frantic again, when she was just laughing and at peace a few moments ago.

“That’s what you’ve come up with?” Ryan questioned as he aggressively walked towards her “Why do you always have to slut your way about, everywhere I take you huh?”

“I wasn’t doing anything I swear-we were just talking, I used to tutor him math and we were just reconnecting over it I-“ y/n jumped rapidly to explain herself before Nate could intervene for her.

“Over math huh?” Ryan scoffed “Someone dumb like you? You were talking about math?”

“Hey calm the fuck down alright” Nate interjected before y/n could. “She said we were just talking so we were just talking.” He added authority to her words but it just made things worse.

“This is our matter so can you fuck off?” Ryan barked at Nate, the two weren’t friends but just distant acquaintances. Ryan naturally couldn’t stand anyone trying to talk to her because it was all ‘flirting’ and Nate couldn’t naturally stand y/n because that boy made his sun rays embodied girl feel awful.

“No.” Nate said adamantly “How about you grow a pair and stop being a little bitch about everyone who looks in her direction? Do you not think yourself man enough to keep her or do you have to berate her to have her around?” Nate was poking at him purposely because he himself wanted a go at this guy but he didn’t want y/n to think Nate was the guy who’d throw first punch, even though he wanted to.

But that was it, Nate received the punch he was asking for but he barely flinched very overpowered with his own urge of showing Ryan his place they two were at each other’s throats. This was the exact scene y/n was worried about Ryan creating, she tried to soothe the fight pleading them both but it didn’t work.

“Get off of him!” She kept on trying as she held Ryan from his arm, trying to tug him away but it was distracting him so much from throwing his hands at Nate. Her constant nagging and tugging.

“Get the fuck off me!” Ryan roared at y/n pushing her off of him very aggressively, intently pushing her so hard she fell to the ground and that was when Nate no longer held his punches. He beat the boy bloody red. By now the others had gathered too to help escalate the situation but it was of no help, Nate was like an animal unleashed.

A week since that, y/n couldn’t even meet Nate’s eye. She ignored him in hallways, changing her direction, she sat far across him in class always hurrying out before he could talk. She wouldn’t reply to his messages, not even see them. He hadn’t seen her around with Ryan either in their designated spots around the school so that was a good sign but he just wanted to talk this out with her because he couldn’t understand the relentless feeling of having lost her. Even as a friend. He never regretted having beaten Ryan, he deserved it. Nate was so certain of it. But y/n. He hated thinking she saw him differently after that, his obnoxious rage to protect that he wanted to cherish. Did it repel her? He felt entitled to at least find that out, he’d leave her be to just glance from the sidelines and wait till she’ll finally look his way if that made her happy but he’d like to know.

Another house party after that one with a facade, Nate as he lounged with his friends overheard a group of girls behind him gossiping about how y/n and Ryan are back together. Eavesdropping as his blood boiled he found out that she’ll probably be around here since Ryan’s here. When he heard that he immediately rose to his feet setting down his beer without a care to respond to his mates who asked about his sudden leave, they kept asking where he was going before he was lost in the crowd. He could barely register anything at this point.

As he walked through the crowd in disbelief and anger he finally did find y/n, out in the garden with some other girls he simple pulled her by her arm to himself without a word or explanation to others he received a few woahs he didn’t care for.

Nate would’ve pulled her aside to talk to her if she was standing with Ryan if that boy weren’t to busy getting piss drunk. “Hey!” Y/n resisted trying to walk herself but he continued to drag her with a tight grip on his arm getting to a quieter place by the small space between the backward and out shed. “Nate what are you-“

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked her, brows furrowed.

“What? What are you talking about…” y/n trailed off as some embarrassment and regret creeped within her but she full well knew what he was talking about.

“How are you even seeing Ryan again? Are you out of your mind?!” He exclaimed. He had so much to demand about, Nate swallowed his pride with timid hurt whenever she ignored him. He could bare her dismissiveness but not her sadness.

“Look…” She breathed unable to meet his gaze, “it’s different-“

“It’s different is it? What is tell me, has he come up with more ways to make you feel shitty?”

Remaining silent as she looked to the ground like it was the most interesting thing ever she felt horrible. Even more horrible of the life she could be otherwise leading but the life she was afraid of leaving. Afraid of the change leaving ryan would bring, afraid of its consequence the emotional weight.

“And you’ve been ignoring me this entire time. Do you think I can’t see that?” Nate spoke and this time she looked up increasingly confused at how he could see through her that much “You don’t look at me, always hurry away even right now you can’t even meet my eyes what are you so afraid of?!”

“It’s just…it’s difficult to explain” y/n tried to reply mildly as she sighed on the verge of tears.

“As long as you can explain it to yourself right?” He scoffed, really agitated how she couldn’t see what he could. Nate was an intense lover too, ferocious one that. But he’d never make her feel this miserable if she was his. She wouldn’t even have to be his he just wanted Ryan to leach away from her because she’d be happier exactly like she was before that boy. Constantly governing her and disrespectful. Nate had a bad temper and he was difficult but he’d never be difficult enough to the extent of hurting her.

Now tears brimmed her eyes and he instantly held back from his words realising just how distressing it must be for her “Hey…hey” he urged her raising her chin with his fingers to make him look at him “I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry…” he apologised but it didn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. “Y/n…it’s alright” he brought her to himself enlacing her into his arms and he rubbed her back letting her cry it out.

“I just don’t know what to do-he—he apologised and he said he’d change and this is the second time this has happened and I-i felt embarrassed to see you because you did so much and yet I went back to him…I keep on doing this, I just, I’m very lost on that account” she wept “He’s my first-first everything and I do really like him but he just makes me miserable and awful. Every second I’m with him I just feel horrible I don’t even want to be here at this party but I am…because of him.”

“Look at me” he said pulling away from the hug to face her but she still kept looking down so Nate cupped her face in his hands “Look” he urged “It’s okay…it’s difficult. You’re learning to love and you’re too attached to him right now. You will get out of it only if you get out of it. You have gotten over much difficult things and you have been okay. You’ll be okay this time around too.”

“How do you know that?” She asked as her voice broke but her tears composed.

“Because I love you.” Nate blurted and didn’t even regret it, almost felt free of letting out a feeling so intense in him whether or not she reciprocated “I love you. I love all of you and I’m not embarrassed to admit it but I want you whole. I want you happy, I promise you i will maintain it and I don’t want you to think of it now” he said wiping her tears “we’re going to go home. I’ll drop you home. You’re not answerable to anyone if you don’t want to be at a place you don’t want to be. You think about Ryan, break up, sort your head out yeah? You deserve better than him because love shouldn’t make you feel awful and miserable. it doesn’t necessarily have to be me or anyone, your own self needs you the most right now. Act right by you.”

Nate drove her home after that, she was truly glad. The car ride was full of a comfortable silence and the genuine serene smile which adorned her face when she told him good night after dropping her off was all worth it to Nate.

Following two days were a bit long as Nate didn’t hear from y/n in any way. She wasn’t even at school. The game day was on the weekend so people rarely came from class these days. Regardless on the game day when he had to play himself he searched for her in the crowd full of people but couldn’t find her. That’s what he told himself weighing light on the fact that she might not have showed up.

He played his well that game, where they won. But he still felt like he had lost somewhat. Since he didn’t have y/n, or a sign of her that could bring his heart some peace. It’s as if his wish was turned alive, he saw y/n come rushing towards the team where everyone was congratulating each other.

He dropped his helmet to the floor when she came running and picked her up in his arms, feeling won, feeling at home. Nate hugged her as if she wouldn’t exist if he let go and likewise. Y/n finally felt liberated, happy, like herself again. Following his word of advise.

Y/n had broken up with Ryan, with a lot of comprehension and conversations with her feelings y/n had reciprocated Nate’s. “I love you too” she replied to what she couldn’t that night at the party and he smiled so hugely kissing her as she was still lifted up into his arms. She kissed him back wrapping her arms around him and like he’d promised, she felt alright again.

HEY!!!! Please let me know your thoughts I will think about it twice a week if you commented a smile face even. Anyways, THANK YOU for reading I love you and go drink water

+is my nate semi non toxic? Yes as a descendant of bob the builder family I fixed him

#nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x y/n #jacob elordi x y/n #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x you

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madaqueue · 2 months

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eternally, yours

chapter 7 | servitude

synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.

pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff, angst, smut. language, mentions of death/loss, mentions of blood, oral (f receiving). 18+, MDNI

word count: 6.3k

a/n: sorry this took me AGES lmao been in a real gojo brainrot moment the past few weeks but i hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me xoxo

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Choso is a patient man. Part of it is innate, sure, but more than that, his patience was carefully crafted, curated through experience. He was made into the man he is today, a good man. But even good men get pushed to their limits.

Which is why he has moments where it takes everything in him not to scream; he wants to grab anyone who dares to walk past him by the shoulders, nails digging into their skin, and force them to listen. He wants to create a captive audience, any outlet for the unfamiliar feelings constantly bubbling over inside of him, a volcano threatening to erupt. It’s too hot, too violent.

Sometimes, he thinks there must be something other than blood coursing through your veins - something mysterious, something addicting. That’s why he can’t stop thinking about you, that’s why his heart pounds and hands shake when he’s with you.

Since the day he met you, you have slowly overtaken his soul, his thoughts, his very being, watering the garden of his life until it’s overgrown. He would profess his love to every person who could hear it, a proclamation of his undying dedication. Every moment without you he feels empty, as though a piece of his soul is missing, only completed when your warmth bleeds into his.

And you, you don’t seem to notice; or, at least you don’t mind if you do. It’s peaceful, to blend into another person like this, to let him see you and be seen by you. Of course there are hurdles, but he easily lifts you over them without a second thought, letting you run forward into the future together.

One recurring challenge you’ve come to note is his diet. As winter settles, the two of you become increasingly creative to work around the less tasteful components of vampirism, the primary one haunting the back of your thoughts: blood. He’s always careful to avoid letting you see him feed, rinsing any remaining crimson from his teeth before rejoining your company. Outings to restaurants become increasingly exhausting, growing tired of explaining to strangers that he just “isn’t hungry.” Instead, you opt to stay inside under the comfort of your home, simply content in each other’s company. It’s easier here, there are fewer risks, it’s safer, both for you and him.

Which is why it comes as a surprise when Choso arrives at your apartment one morning after his overnight hospital shift, letting himself in with the key you had given him a few weeks ago out of ease due to his disruptive work schedule, grinning ear to ear. “I have an idea,” he whispers as he climbs under the covers of your bed, careful to not jostle you as you rouse yourself from sleep.

“Oh?” you murmur, tiredness still clouding your vision as you rub your eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” he smiles, “but whenever you’re awake enough, get yourself ready, and wear something cute.” Nuzzling into you, he wraps his arms around your waist, heat radiating off your body. “Oh, and warm,” he remembers before pulling himself away. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your head, “love you.”

“Love you,” you hum as your eyes flutter closed, the depths of sleep pulling you back. The bed shifts as Choso removes himself from it, rustling echoing through your apartment before you hear your front door close again as he leaves.

You’re awoken again a few hours later to the sweet scent of coffee hitting your nose, Choso’s deep voice humming some song you don’t quite recognize from the kitchen. As the sheets rustle beneath your movements, he suddenly appears at your side, a sweet grin plastered across his face. “G’morning,” he whispers, gently kissing your forehead. Your skin is warm under his lips, his cool fingers resting against your cheeks still flushed from sleep. Setting down a mug atop your bedside table, he continues, “I got your favorite from that coffee shop down the street.”

You tiredly smile up at him, his small acts of devotion a consistent light in your life. Every chance he gets to show you how much he thinks of you he takes, your presence a constant hum in the back of his mind, every thought punctuated with you.

Slowly rising, he never leaves your side as you get ready, his arms wrapped around you while you brush your teeth, his fingers lazily combing through your hair as you style it, his lips trailing every bare inch of your skin as you get dressed.

When you finally pull on a sweater and skirt, fuzzy socks lining your calves, he feels his heart flutter in his chest. Absolute, utter perfection. There’s a softness to you, a tenderness that resides within your body. It contrasts his sharpness, the harsh edges he’s been forced to develop; every moment with you he feels them wearing away, dulling into a gentleness he’s never known. Yet, one he has grown to crave.

Walking hand-in-hand through the snow-covered city, his grand surprise is revealed as he leads you to a small lake hidden behind brick facades of unfamiliar buildings. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue down the thin gravel path until you’re met with a freshly-shoveled bench along the outskirts of the pond. Setting the gym bag that had been slung over his shoulder onto the ground, he gestures for you to sit. Complying, he unzips one of the side compartments, revealing a crisp, white pair of ice skates.

“May I?” he asks with a hesitant smile, placing the skates onto the ground. A grin tugs at your lips as you nod, a blush forming across your cheeks. He planned this? When did he have the time to find this place, to prepare all of this? Removing your boots he replaces them with the ice skates, meticulously tying them snugly up to your ankles.

Kneeling on the ground he pulls out another pair, black and much less pristine, as he settles next to you on the bench. Lacing up his own skates, he rises, holding his hand out to you. As your fingers intertwine with his, the coolness of his skin sends a shiver through your spine.

“Oh,” he hums as his gaze covers your body, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he rummages through them. When he pulls them out, they hold something unfamiliar: small black and orange packets rest in each palm. Closing his hands into fists he shakes them before rejoining his fingers with yours. Heat pricks at your skin where your palms rest against his, your fingers interlaced between the mysterious objects as understanding suddenly clicks.

“Hand-warmers?” you ask, tightening your grip around them as warmth courses through your body.

Choso nods. “I saw them at the store and figured I’d pick some up.” Joy exudes from him as a lopsided grin plays across his face. “And now we can hold hands without me getting you cold.”

He seems almost giddy as you rise from the bench, guiding you to the frozen lake. You’re too lost in the simple happiness of the moment to recall your utter lack of experience with ice skating, until the ground suddenly falls from under you as your skates slide against the ice, landing you flat on your ass.

As the shock settles, both you and Choso erupt into a fit of laughter. The frozen ground is cold under your skirt, forcing you to attempt to stand before slipping and falling forward onto your knees.

“Okay, okay, I got you,” Choso chuckles, extending his arms for you to grab. Pulling yourself up, you manage to stabilize yourself enough to temporarily balance. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he holds you in place.

“Don’t laugh,” you dramatically pout, “I’ve never done this before!”

“That’s why I’m gonna teach you,” he smiles, pulling you closer into him. “Just trust me, okay? I’ve got you.”

The next few hours are spent with your hands tightly gripped around his arms as he coaxes you across the ice. Eventually you learn how to stand on your own without slipping and can even manage a few glides forward. The sun begins to hang low in the sky as evening settles, casting a warm glow over the small lake.

“Okay, you ready?” Choso prompts, skating backwards slightly and holding his arms out.

You nod, determined, as you lock your gaze ahead. Pushing off on one foot, the blade carves through the ice - your ankle wavers, but just in time you place your other skate down, catching yourself. Another push, and you land in Choso’s waiting embrace through an excited cheer.

“I did it, I did it!” you exclaim through giggles, throwing your arms into the air. He effortlessly lifts you up, twirling you around on the ice.

“I’m so proud of you,” he exhales through a grin, still holding you above him.

Gingerly setting you down, his heart feels full as the setting sun reflects golden hues off your face. Pulling you into him, his lips crash into yours, a familiar hunger behind his motions as lust overtakes him. Before you realize it, the cool brick of one of the surrounding buildings hits your back as his hands roam your body.

“I’m so proud of you, you’re so talented, so strong,” he murmurs praises against your skin as his lips trail down your neck. Searing kisses light his path as he moves, covering every exposed inch of you in his love.

Warmth begins to spread inside you as his fingertips slowly make their way up your thighs, his palms groping at the soft flesh of your ass. He easily hoists you into the air, your legs wrapping around him as he pushes you further up the wall behind you. Struggling to balance yourself, your hands land on his shoulders as he adjusts lower and lower until he’s settled in between your legs, calves dangling in the air as you carefully position the blades away from his back.

Wet kisses tingle up your inner thighs as he draws closer and closer to where you need him, but hesitation overtakes you as you struggle to keep your skates from piercing him. Sensing your apprehension, the hand against your calf pushes you against him as he murmurs into you, “It’s okay, you won’t hurt me.”

Recollection floods your thoughts: oh, right - the inhumane strength, impenetrable flesh. Tentatively, you lower your legs as they rest against his shoulders, allowing yourself to pull him closer.

There’s an awe behind his gaze, a gratitude to whatever gods of fate blessed him with you. Sometimes, he still can’t believe it, that you’re his, that he’s yours. As he slowly makes his way closer to your aching cunt, his eyes land on the wet patch forming against your panties: he still can’t believe you get this wet, all for him. Finally, his head ducks under your skirt, placing gentle kisses against your clothed core.

“Cho, please,” you whine, lowering your hands into his hair to tug him into you.

And that’s all he needs to hear. Hot breath hits your cunt as he exhales contentedly, willingly acquiescing to your shared desires. With one hand he pulls your soaked panties aside, easily supporting you with one arm. You mewl as he licks a slow stripe up your slick folds, the cool air biting against the heat of your skin.

“So perfect,” he breathes into you, “s’soft, s’pretty.” Everything about you seems crafted by the heavens, perfectly melded, all for him. He’s lost in you, in your thoughts, in your body. It intoxicates him as he allows himself to fade into the quiet hum of your soul.

A soft giggle escapes your throat at his lust-drunk praises, the sound transforming into a moan as his lips attach to your clit. Reflexively, your heels dig into his back, serrated skates piercing his clothes. Choso groans at the slight pain lighting a fire beneath his skin.

Two opposing senses, the hot and cold, soft and sharp, overwhelm his body in a blissful haze. As your grip in his dark hair tightens, the stinging air burning his lungs, he finds respite in the oxygen-deprived space between your thighs.

Nothing had ever, and could ever, truly harm him. Blades can’t scratch the surface of his skin, but as they dig through the denim of his jacket, they attack like cold pinpricks of rain. And it feels so, so fucking good - refreshing, almost. A part of his desire claws its way out, begging you to hurt him, begging you to try.

Shared moans fill the air as your back arches off the brick wall behind you, grinding your hips against his tongue as he flicks over your sensitive folds. Gliding his tongue into your aching entrance you gasp, cold air filling your senses against the burning fire of lust within you.

He babbles incoherently into you, muffled proclamations of his love etching into your core. Heat begins to fill your body, your cheeks flushing, chest warming as tension builds in your abdomen.

“C’mon, pretty,” Choso murmurs into you, a quiet plea. “Let go, lemme feel ya.”

Picking up his pace, his tongue relentlessly circles your clit, alternating between needy suction and patient motions of the wet muscle against you. Despite the flurries of snow beginning to fall and swirl around you, all you can feel is hot.

Grabbing into his hair, your skates dig into his shoulders as you come undone. Through whines of pleasure, he greedily laps at every ounce of your essence, his hot breath fanning across your skin. So fucking good.

After a moment, both of his hands return to your hips, adjusting your weight to gently lower you to the ground. Legs shaking beneath you, your arms instinctively reach over his shoulders as he holds you up, a smug grin on his face overcompensating for his blown-out pupils and flushed cheeks. As he leans in to kiss you, the taste of you still lingering on his lips, warm air fills the space between you.

“I’m so proud of you,” he hums into you through a grin.

As the haze of your ecstasy finally begins to clear, you muster your strength to respond. “For the ice skating?”

“Amongst other things,” he smirks, pressing his lips against yours once again.

Admiration swells in his heart as you walk home, fingers intertwined over the heat of his newly-purchased hand warmers. Everyday you surprise him with your dedication, your talent; yet, you remain unendingly humble. He’s never seen you brag, never boasted about your immeasurable smarts, kindness, or strength. So of course, he takes it upon himself to do it for you, singing your praises at every opportunity.

Just as you’ve changed him - allowing him to soften, to find comfort and love in his life - he’s begun to change you. Hearing his compliments, receiving his veneration, you almost start to believe him, believe that maybe there is something special about you. To date, your life has been filled with service to others, prioritizing caring for your family, but maybe you hold your own unique worth, too. Until you truly feel it, understand your place in the world - in his world - Choso will tell you, every single day, until the end of time. If only you could see yourself how he sees you.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Choso was never bothered by the cold. He felt a certain peace in the stillness of snowfall, allowing his thoughts to wander, as though the world was truly quiet for a moment. Maybe now, in its silence, the universe would have to listen to him, a captive audience to his prayers.

Watching the blanket of white cover the landscape from your apartment balcony, he suddenly feels the heaviness of an avalanche, nearly suffocating. The bright warmth of the sun is buried under it, the flowers of summer long gone, the trees having shed their final leaves, a now barren wasteland. Yet, they don’t seem to mind; instead, they allow the cold air to become a part of them, to change them. It’s not the sun’s fault it couldn’t protect them indefinitely, nor was it a responsibility. But does the sun not wonder if it should have done more to keep life safe?

Warm puffs of steam leave his parted lips as he exhales, a fleeting glimmer of proof that he is here, that he is alive. Yet, as snowflakes land on his open palm, they pause before melting, a hesitation in the forces of nature. Blood courses through his veins, his cells grow and die, but is that enough? Where does the burden of proof lie when deciding what is human?

Where is the boundary between human and humanity?

It’s in devotion.

Dedication.

Servitude.

He is human because he serves, he protects. Since he was born he swore himself to save those who could not save themselves, to shield them from harm.

In the silence of the night, the gusts of wind howling against his ears, he nearly mistakes the sound for screams. Kechizu. Eso. Flames burn under his skin, surrounding him, his lungs closing, filling with smoke.

No.

Tightening his grip on the railing, the cold metal scalds his palms, veins pulsing against his arms.

He failed to save them.

He wasn’t strong enough.

But now, he will do anything, everything, to ensure that it doesn’t happen again. He will never, ever, fail to save those he loves.

“Choso?”

Your voice cuts through the air, it’s softness cradling him. The momentary tensing of his muscles is immediately soothed as he registers your presence, turning to face you. Under the gentle illumination of the moonlight as it reflects off the freshly fallen snow, you look picturesque. Sleep hides behind your eyes, the slight mess of your hair haloed around your face, as your hands grip onto the blanket shrouding your shoulders. Slowly padding across the balcony, a gentle crunch punctuating the steps beneath your slippers, you find your place next to him, resting your head against his body. His arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you into his warmth.

The pale skin of his bare arms seems to glow softly against the darkness of the night sky. “Aren’t you cold?” you murmur into him, instinctively wrapping the blanket around his torso. As soon as your hands make contact with his cool skin, you hear him lightly chuckle above you.

“I don’t exactly get cold,” he smiles, “but I appreciate the gesture.” Placing a gentle kiss to your head, he allows a silence to fall between you, praying you don’t ask him what he’s doing. He wants to protect you - needs to protect you - and if he tells you the truth, it would only do more damage. He can’t hurt you; you don’t deserve to be held under the weight of his fears.

“Why are you out here so late?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates for a moment as he formulates an answer, navigating his thoughts to avoid unnecessarily worrying you. “Sometimes I like to come out here and think,” he responds truthfully.

“Think about what?”

Concern laces your tone, interwoven with your love for him. Was he okay? Was something wrong? You’ve caught him out here before, shrouded in the comfort of the night. Sometimes you’d be awoken to the porch door latching, despite Choso’s best efforts to close it softly, or sometimes you’d catch his shadow moving across the curtains lining the window. You never pressed him on it, waiting for him to feel comfortable enough to tell you, but you couldn’t help but worry when he’s been coming out here more and more, seeming more and more detached.

You noticed it the first time when you were out with Yuji and Megumi, the two boys running through nearby snowbanks while you and Choso rested on a covered bench. Choso sat next to you, hands folded in his lap, as he watched them. Yet, when your eyes caught his, something seemed off. He was far away, somewhere deep in the tortuous maze of his thoughts. Gently reaching out your palm, you rested it on his thigh, slowly rubbing circles into his skin. It took a moment, maybe two, before he seemed to register your movements, his attention flickering as he returned to reality with a soft smile.

You wanted to ask, but you knew better than to push him. After the tears he shed, the pain he felt, the last time he talked about his past, you were hesitant to force him to relive it anymore than he already does. Yet, in the back of your mind, you wonder: where do you go, Choso?

A weak sigh escapes his lips, warm breath circling in the freezing air pulling you back to the present. “I think about my family,” he finally murmurs. He pauses, gaze far away as he looks into the darkness ahead. “I think about how I failed them.”

Your chest feels like it’s cracked open, your heart bleeding at his words. Your soul aches for him; you wish you could take his pain away, carry his grief for even just a moment. You’ve heard the words of his history, seen the outlines of his past, but it suddenly hits you that he truly lived it.

A familiar sadness forms between your ribs, the dull ache of regret. Before you can think, you speak. “Sometimes, I look at Megumi and I get this pang, right in my stomach. It feels like I just got punched, like I can’t breathe. For a long time I don’t think I really knew what it was, but now I think I know. It’s guilt.” You don’t know where the words come from, pulled from the depths of your mind, but as you say them, there’s a weight behind them, a truth.

Taking in a steadying breath, you continue. “I feel like I’m not doing enough for him, like all I do is let him down over and over and over again. The worst part is that he doesn’t seem to notice, because he loves me anyways, he’ll love me no matter what.” A dark chuckle bubbles from your lips. “I’m pretty sure I could literally punch him in the face and he’d still be smiling, still hug me afterwards and apologize for making me hurt him.”

Tilting up, your gaze meets Choso’s, his eyes glassy beneath the tears that have begun silently covering them. Your voice threatens to shake as you speak, suddenly overcome with the shared connection, your emotions melding with his. “His love has cursed him. It blinds him to the cruelty in the world, to the people who would hurt him. But then I get stuck thinking ‘who would I be if I wanted him to see that?’ I don’t know, it’s like, I want him to be able to protect himself, but does that mean I failed at doing so in the first place?”

Choso smiles weakly, a tired understanding behind it. “I get that sometimes with Yuji. I know it’s not the same, but I can’t help but feel like he’ll never have a normal life just because of the circumstances he was dealt. It’s not his fault, he didn’t ask for this, to be raised by Sukuna and me. And sure, he seems okay with it now, but what about when he’s older, when he learns his place in the world? If he was given the chance, would he choose the same life again?”

A soft grin graces your lips as you breathe in, cold air burning your lungs. “I can’t say for certain, but it sounds like he has a life with two people who love him, almost too much. If I were him, I’d choose that every single time.”

Finally, the warmth returns to his eyes, his body relaxing into you as his lips meet yours. Your eyelashes flutter closed, stray snowflakes landing on them as you softly kiss him. It’s slow, a patience to his motions as his tongue swipes against yours, hot breath filling the space between you.

When you finally pull away, you’re both glowing under the fading moonlight.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he smiles, one that finally reaches his eyes.

“But can we go back inside now? I’m freezing,” you giggle as shivers begin to rack your body, the cold reaching its fingers into your bones.

Without another word, he wraps his arms tightly around your torso, picking you up as you mold yourself around him. Resting your head on his shoulder, he carries you inside. Settling under the blankets covering your bed, you finally begin to warm up as Choso intertwines himself with you, his fingertips rubbing small circles into your lower back.

Yuji is so lucky to have him, you think. It feels impossible that Choso would think, for even a moment, that he was letting Yuji down - every moment they spend together you see the pure adoration Choso feels for him, the sense that he would give anything to see his brother happy.

A sudden thought pops into your mind as it begins to cloud with sleep.

“Can I meet him?” you murmur, eyes remaining closed as you speak into the darkness. “Sukuna?”

Choso is grateful you couldn’t see him react, a momentary fear flashing across his face. He hopes his hesitation wasn’t noticeable as he blurts out an answer. “Of course,” he states, silently pleading you don’t hear the way his voice wavers.

In response you simply release a pleased hum, nuzzling your head into his chest. His grip tightens around you, as if it could keep you here with him forever, frozen in this moment.

He knows you’re strong; all he can do now is hope it’s enough.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

“Come in,” a gruff voice calls from behind the door before Choso swings it open.

The warm smell of cinnamon and spices fills your senses as you step inside, eyes scanning the surroundings. Sukuna’s home is clean, grey and white tiles lining the open kitchen, simple yet sophisticated art hanging around the walls. High-pitched screams echo through the halls as Megumi and Yuji careen towards you. Your brother’s arms wrap around you in a tight hug as the boys babble about the movie they had watched earlier in the day, something about worms? Their chatter blurs into the background as a man steps out from the same hallway, leaning against the off-white walls.

He’s tall, probably around Choso’s height, but something about him, the way he carries himself, feels almost ancient, especially in contrast to the grey t-shirt and black sweatpants currently adorning his body. Striking tattoos line the contours of his face, their path continuing across his arms and presumably down his chest from what you can see beneath the collar of his shirt. Pink hair, an uncanny match to Yuji’s, seems to glow against the warm light of the living room. When his gaze meets yours, a chill runs down your spine as red irises bore into you.

“Hey,” he mutters, his voice rougher than Choso’s, the absence of any softness in it. “I’m Sukuna. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you wave, clinging to the shreds of your strength that seemed to disintegrate the moment his crimson eyes met yours.

Choso’s arms instinctively wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to him, his presence steadying. “Did they eat already?” he asks, gesturing to the boys who had run off and currently bounce on the couch cushions, pillows being tossed back and forth over giddy squeals.

“No, I was just about to feed ‘em,” Sukuna trails off, marching into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge, he tilts his head back, turning his attention to your still-frozen frame in the doorway. “You can eat, too. Hope you like sushi.”

“I-I do,” you stammer, finally taking a full step inside, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at your inability to muster a full sentence. “Thanks.”

Sukuna just hums in acknowledgement, pulling out a tray of delicately hand-crafted rolls from the refrigerator.

As he moves across his home, the silence weighs on you, amplifying your nervousness. “So, um, Sukuna, what do you do?”

Without turning to you, he huffs a curt response. “History professor.” Before you can say anything else, his loud voice crackles through the space. “Food!” he calls into his home, summoning the boys to the dining room table. Placing three plates down, the white ceramic contrasting against the dark wood, he allows you and the boys to feast.

Hesitantly grabbing the nearest roll, you pop a piece into your mouth. “Oh my god,” you mutter through a full bite of food, “this is incredible.”

Sukuna simply grunts before Choso fills in the conversation. “Sukuna is an amazing cook, he’s actually the one who taught me,” he muses.

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise: the idea of the man in front of you, his gruff demeanor, his stoic strength, standing in the kitchen patiently chopping vegetables almost makes you giggle. “I wouldn’t have guessed that,” you manage to get out through a stifled smile before shoving another bite into your mouth.

“What, you don’t think I’m talented enough?” Sukuna asks, his tone serious.

You nearly choke on your food as the implication of your words processes in your mind. “N-no, not that, I just-”

Suddenly his boisterous laugh fills the space, something in it deeply haunting. “Oh, you humans are so fun to tease,” he practically giggles. Choso reaches out to smack his arm, his gaze darting to the two boys sitting across from you, as if to silently say shut up. “It’s fine, the brats aren’t even listening,” Sukuna continues, gasping in air through his nose to quiet his laughter.

As if on cue, Megumi and Yuji shove the last remaining pieces of sushi into their mouths before pushing their chairs away from the table. “All done!” they proclaim, cheeks puffed out and full of rice before they run back to the living room.

Sukuna quirks an eyebrow at Choso, as if to taunt him. “See?” he smirks.

Choso just rolls his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Whatever,” he mutters under his breath.

Leaning onto his elbows, Sukuna’s maroon-tinted eyes land on your face, making your blood run cold. A fire seems to rage behind his gaze, an aura of control exuding off his body. As his mouth curls into a smile, sharpened canines poke into his lower lip. “So,” he begins, “how did a little human like you manage to get tangled up with him?”

“Um, well,” you stutter, struggling to form coherent thoughts under the pressure of his watchful eyes, his presence overwhelming you, “he helped Megumi when I had to bring him to the hospital.”

“Oh, I see,” Sukuna muses through a devilish grin. “You fell for the saviour complex then, right, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call her that,” Choso grumbles, shooting daggers at the man across from you.

“Fine, fine, no need for the theatrics, Kamo,” he giggles in response, an unseriousness underlying his very essence. Before he can continue, childlike screams echo through the room as Yuji and Megumi burst in, chasing each other in some complex game of tag. “Will you brats shut up already?” Sukuna growls, grabbing a nearby pillow from the couch before hurling it at the boys.

“Ha, you missed, old man!” Yuji taunts before running out of the room, Megumi following closely behind.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, but you can’t help but notice the genuine smile flash across his features before they darken again, returning his attention to you. “Anyways, I have to ask - what will you do when it comes time to die?”

“Sukuna,” Choso chokes out a stifled yell, agitation brewing under his skin.

“What?” he feigns. “I can’t be the first to ask - after all, I’m sure you understand the implications of our lifestyle, the immortality it entails.”

Heat fills your body as your hands begin to shake, nervousness drowning out your thoughts. “I, um, I hadn’t really thought about it,” is all you can get out before your eyes start to sting. You truthfully hadn’t given it much thought beyond the nagging questions lingering in your mind, ones you worked hard to shove down. You tried to reason them as irrational, yet here you were, being confronted with them head on.

“That’s enough,” Choso growls, the sound of his chair sliding against the wood floor filling the silence as he stands. Reaching out an arm, he takes your hand in his as he pulls you to your feet. “Thanks for dinner, let me know when you need me to watch Yuji again.”

“Aw, leaving so soon?” Sukuna taunts, yet he makes no motion to stop him as Choso drags you to the front door. “It really was nice to meet you, little human!” he calls after you. As the door slams shut behind you, you swear you hear his giggle echoing through the empty halls.

The drive home is…uncomfortable, to say the least. Choso’s hand never leaves yours as he drives in silence, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Rage bubbles inside him, threatening to overflow at any moment. When a car suddenly cuts him off, he lays on the horn, profanities muttered under his breath.

You had never, ever, seen him this angry - annoyed at work, sure, even a little grumpy when you beat him at whatever video game you picked out - but never like this. He was absolutely seething, his entire body practically vibrating with wrath.

“Choso?” you whisper into the silence - you had been sitting outside your apartment for a few minutes, yet he had not made any move to get out of the car, his eyes screwed shut as he rests his head against the steering wheel.

Exhaling a shaky breath, his eyes flutter open; any remaining shreds of resentment seem to fade away as he looks at you, replaced with something closer to despair.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his shoulders collapsing inwards. “I just…fucking hate him sometimes.” Squeezing his hand, you wait for him to continue. “He’s just so purposely cruel to people, it’s not fair. He shouldn’t have said that shit to you.”

Reaching your free hand over to him, you slowly rub your palm up his back, a small comfort against the raging storm inside him.

“I’m sorry for bringing you there. I know how he gets, and I shouldn’t have let you anywhere near him.”

Your motions falter for a moment as you trail your hand over to his jaw, forcing him to face you. “I asked to meet him, remember? If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

Sadness flashes across his features at your words. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all.” He sighs, struggling to hold your gaze.

“Choso?” Somber eyes meet yours as you take in an uneven breath, the questions from earlier in the night swirling through your thoughts. “What is going to happen when I die?”

His stomach drops, eyebrows knitting together as dread overtakes him. “I don’t know.”

Body trembling, you find the strength to verbalize the words you’ve been mulling over for months, their shape engraved in the back of your mind. “Would you…would you ever turn me? Make me a vampire, like you?”

He inhales sharply. “No.”

Pain ripples through your chest, an open wound from his verbal knife. Mouth curling downward, your eyes begin to sting. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I just…I can’t.”

“Cho, I know you want to protect me, but-”

“No.” The intensity of his voice takes you aback at first, the finality of it. There’s a silent detestation behind it, an unspoken resentment. Resting in his lap, his palms ball into fists.

“But…why?”

Before the question can land, he’s already speaking. “I have a grave.”

The wind is sucked out of the car, suddenly too quiet, too tense, a vacuum of your thoughts. “What?”

“I don’t visit it, I barely did even before we moved here. But I have a grave, a tombstone, the whole deal.” Silence once again falls, this time painfully so. Any bite left in his words is now gone, replaced with something akin to agony. “They didn’t find my body after the fire, obviously, so they buried an empty casket next to my family.”

“Oh.” It’s the only sound you can get out, barely a word, more of a sigh.

“I just…I always know it’s there, an empty tomb of the life I used to have. I can’t dig it up, I sure as hell can’t go back to it, I can’t reclaim it. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

Your voice is stolen from you, shaking your head as his glassy eyes meet yours.

“It’s like the universe’s cruel joke, like it’s waiting for me to die, begging me to rot in that hole, but I can’t. I physically can’t.”

A wave of sorrow hits you, knocking the wind from your lungs. To you, immortality always felt like a blessing, a way to ensure your survival long enough to protect the safety of those you love. It was never feared, always sought after, but now his suffering digs at your soul, tearing cracks through your ideals. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “You deserve to rest.”

Finally breaking his gaze from yours, it turns to his hands, consciously unclenching his fists. Silently, he vows to protect you, but never to change you. When he finally inhales to speak, his voice comes out low, taught against the strings of his pain. He wants - no, he needs - you to understand: you can never be like this, like him; death would be a more merciful end. Lifting his eyes, they meet yours as crystal-clear tears pool along his lash line. “Eternity isn’t always a gift.”

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#eternally yours #q writes #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamo choso x reader #jjk choso #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic

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cravetive · 9 months

Text

THE MESS WE LEAVE BEHIND

❈ Pairings: Namjoon x F!reader , Jimin x F!reader

❈ Genre/Au: M (18+);smut;Marriage Au;Namjoon x Jimin best friends! Cheating! Angst.

❈ Synopsis: Falling in love with your husband’s best friend was not at all how you imagined your life to go, and his return has you unraveling under the lies you’ve created to keep your family.

❈ Warnings: smut, dirty talk, thigh riding, foul language, mentions of cheating, fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex (don't do it), pregnancy, Namjoon is a angel from above, Angst, riding, Y/n is a mess, pet names ( baby) , Angst with no alleviation, spanking, orgasms , mentions of arousal, did i say angst?

❈ Word Count: 8.0 K sumthing brief

❈ Authors Note: I don't know how to feel about this, but I was compelled to write it so bone apple teeth Y'all! btw, i did not proofread this.

“As for the dog, he’s still riding that log” Namjoon read from the child book in his hand as he brushed his other hand through his daughter's hair. “What a crazy dog” Namjoon chuckled at his daughter but as he looked down, he noticed the now-sleeping child resting peacefully on his chest. He observed closely as his daughter snored softly, a smile rising to his face. Namjoon recalled the first time he had heard he was going to be a father, he remembered how nervous he had been, fear quickly consuming him and filling him with doubt.

He didn’t think himself capable or worthy of ever filling the role of a father but as soon as he saw her little face for the first time, he knew he didn’t want to be anything else but her dad.

Now she was 6 months old, and he couldn’t even understand why he had been so nervous in the first place. She was his entire world, and he was hers. Before her arrival, he looked for meaning in everything, trying to find something missing in himself but now, having his daughter asleep peacefully on his chest, he discovered it was all that he needed.

He carefully laid the book down and proceeded to softly move her into her crib, covering her with a blanket and leaving a sweet kiss on her forehead. He walked towards the door and held onto the light switch, looking at his sleeping child one last time before turning off the lights.

He took a deep breath and walked towards his kitchen, softly humming a lullaby to himself.

“You know, I think I'm going to open a daycare in the museum” he spoke as he stepped inside the kitchen. His wife giggled loudly from where she stood putting away the dishes. “a daycare? In the art museum?” she asked, a laugh pouring out afterward. He chuckled as he reached her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and planting a kiss on top of her head.

“I just think it will allow me to see Harumi more” he explains, leaning his chin on Y/n shoulder. He closes his eyes as he breathes in her scent. Finding comfort in the familiar smell of her Coco Channel perfume. “Namjoon, it’ll be hard for her to incorporate herself into her daycare if you keep this up” Y/n whines.

“Fine, but it's not easy for me” he replies, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“I can't imagine not seeing her chunky cheeks for 8 hours every day” he continues “It’ll be torture!” he chuckles.

“We have to go back to work eventually, Joon” Y/n responds.

“6 months is not enough time” he exhales, looking up at his wife.

“Joon, you are the best curator they have” Y/n voices “I know they have been in shambles since you left.”

“well, what about you? how do you think they have been doing without their top exhibit designer?” he mocks, a mischievous smile forming on his lips.

“oh god, please try to make this easier for me” she groans “If we are both reluctant to return to work, how will we feed her?” she asks, a giggle pouring along with it.

“Fine but I'm talking to the board of directors regarding this family leave thing, it should be way more than 6 months” he pouts whilst Y/n nods in agreement.

He reaches for her glass of wine and takes a gulp. “Hey!” she protests, slapping his arm playfully “That’s my wine.” “What do we say? Sharing is caring Y/n” he says, side-eying his wife. She rolls her eyes and turns on her feet, snatching the glass of wine from his hand.

“How was bedtime today? Did she give you trouble?” she asks, taking a drink from her glass.

“I gave her the dad special” he brags, wiggling his eyebrows which causes another laugh to fall from Y/n’s mouth. “I read her a bedtime story and she was out like a light” he smiles, recalling his daughter sound asleep in her room. Y/n joins his smile and leans into his chest, burying her cheek against it. He moves his arms around her, pushing her into him and swaying side to side.

“You know, I’ll miss this” he comments, looking down at her. She pushes herself slightly and looks up at Namjoon. She doesn’t speak, only admiring the man who towers over her, and she swears she has never felt more loved by someone in her entire life. “Me too” she hums, pushing herself on tiptoes and planting a warm kiss on his full lips.

“But as we promised, despite our busy schedules we will make a habit of coming home before 5 pm and making dinner” she reminds him, pulling away. He gives her his famous dimply smile and leans forward to plant another kiss on her lips.

“Do you think I can take her to the museum?” he insists, and Y/n laughs and shakes her head.

“Absolutely not, last time I let you take her Jin almost kidnapped that poor child” Y/n answers, giving him a disapproving glance. They both join in loud laughter that echoes inside the room. “In his defense, she is very cute,” Namjoon says with a fond look.

Once the laughter subsides, they stand in silence. Namjoon stares into Y/n’s admiring his wife. To this day he tokens himself as the luckiest man alive for being able to call her his, he loses himself in her eyes.

“You know I love you right?” he hums, brushing her hair back and giving her a small peck on her forehead.

Y/n giggles and moves away from Namjoon's embrace, setting her empty wine glass inside the sink.

She leans onto it for a moment, pressing her lips together. She ponders on the question she has wanted to ask for some time now but has been hesitant to. She looks over at her husband and observes as he types away calmly on his phone. “babe” she calls for him, he hums in response, but his attention remains on the screen.

“When will Jimin be back?” she asks, her voice a mere whisper almost as if she doesn’t want him to hear her ask.

He removes his eyes from the screen in front of him and looks over at his wife, a sigh leaves his lips. “Uhm, I'm not too sure really” he answers “He’s been touring all of Europe, he’s in Spain now actually” he notes which makes Y/n nod slowly. She diverts her eyes back to the sink where she has sat her wine glass, and she proceeds to pick it back up.

“More wine?” Namjoon asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Y/n offers him a cheeky smile and goes to grab the half-empty bottle of cabernet.

“Just a bit more” she giggles.

She pours herself another glass and hums when the burgundy liquid touches her lips.

“Alright, I'll head to bed now” Namjoon whispers, laying one more kiss on her wife's lips and disappearing through the door.

It is only when she hears their bedroom closing that she allows herself to unravel in tears. She grips onto the counter, attempting to not collapse on her knees.

It has been like this for months, even before she had Harumi and married Namjoon. She feels like she's walking on needles every day. The burden of the secret that she carries weighs her down, making it impossible for her to enjoy the life she has created for herself. She has wanted to come clean, has wanted to be brave enough to tell someone, anyone about what has been happening to her but she's unable. She isn’t capable of breaking Namjoon's heart.

She’s unwilling to take away from him that he has yearned for all this time.

So, she pretends. She contains all these feelings in her chest, and she carries on with her days as a happy wife and mother all while she collapses inside. She is a good person, an honest person. but somehow, she has found herself in this crippling situation. Withholding the truth from a man who deserves the world, crying herself numb when he leaves the room.

“I'll meet you at the entrance” Namjoon spoke excitedly, almost running through the halls of the museum. “Joon, please relax” Y/n giggles through the phone. “I want to help you with the stroller” he huffs, nearing the lobby of the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art. Being the persuasive man he was, Namjoon had been able to secure a daycare ward in the museum, making it possible for all employees to bring their children to work during their shifts.

“I don’t even want to know how you were able to get this done” Y/n speaks whilst Namjoon jogs towards his wife and daughter. He gives her a wide smile and raises his brows. “it's best you don’t know” he replies, reaching for Harumi and pulling her out of the stroller. He carries her in his arms and gives her a soft kiss on her plump cheeks.

“I’ve missed you, Haru” he sings into her little ears.

He looks back at Y/n who struggles with closing the stroller in her hands.

“All alright, come on let's switch” he chuckles, handing Harumi over to Y/n and beginning to close the stroller. “6 months and I still don’t know how that works” Y/n hisses. Namjoon laughs, looking back at his family. “it’s really simple, Yn” Namjoon advises. “Simple for you” Y/n retorts.

They join hands and begin to walk into the halls of the museum. “I have a meeting soon with one of the investors, but I should be done by 3 pm and then we can have lunch together” he informs Y/n. “Joon, I'm not sure I’ll be done by 3 pm, it's my first time walking into the office again” Y/n replies. Namjoon frowns and gives her a quick saddened glance.

“Fine, then I'll have lunch with Harumi” he then smiles, making a silly face at his daughter which causes her to gift him a gummy smile.

“I don’t know what I will do with you two” Y/n laughs.

“What else but love us” Namjoon responds, laying a quick peck on Y/n’s cheek.

“Hey Namjoon Hyung!” a voice calls, Namjoon looks up and his eyes widen.

“No way!” he almost yells. “Brooo you’re back!” he leaves Y/n’s side and jogs up to the man, embracing him in a tight hug.

“How was Spain?” he asks.

Jimin chuckles and nods his head “It was beautiful, I couldn’t get enough” he replies. “I can tell you have been gone for a year, we’ve missed you around here” Namjoon confesses, slapping his friend's shoulder softly.

Whilst engulfed in his conversation, Namjoon doesn’t notice the way Y/n tenses or the way that she tries to direct her eyes elsewhere but at the 2 men catching up in the hallway. She holds onto Harumi tightly, holding her breath. Her daughter coos up at her but she can't focus. instead, her eyes try to find the closest exit.

“Hey Y/n, guess whose back!” Namjoon cheers and she curses under her breath. She turns and her eyes grow panicked as the two men approach her. She wears her best fake smile and attempts to act natural. “I see, welcome back Jimin,” she says halfheartedly.

“Hey Y/n, nice to see you again” he answers. She shuts her eyes for a moment, begging for someone to stop the dumpster fire that’s about to occur. Y/n’s breath becomes labored the closer he gets; his voice sounds soft in contrast with the way Y/n’s heart beats Uncontrollably against her chest. She musters a small smile, blinking uncomfortably.

Jimin smirks, a taunting stare taking over his eyes as he takes her in for the first time in a year. Her skin appears to glisten under the dim lights around them, her cheeks becoming flushed at his sudden appearance. He looks her up and down, noticing the small changes she has gone through since the day he last saw her. This only makes Y/n grow uneasy as she notices the way he is unable to remove his eyes from her.

“Is this?” his eyes widen, noticing the child she holds in her arms. “Yeah bro, Harumi” Namjoon interjects, causing Y/n to jolt in place. “Wow, she’s huge” he rejoices, reaching forward to touch her small hand. “What is she? 6 months now?” he asks, his eyes looking into Y/n’s for confirmation.

She doesn’t say a word as their eyes collide, his stare provoking her to remain completely still. he gives her a smug smile and then looks back at Harumi. “Yes, can you believe it!” Namjoon says proudly from behind him. Jimin nods knowingly and glances back at Namjoon. “she’s gorgeous” he grins, sharing another look with Y/n. “I’m sure she gets it from her mother” he speaks, dragging his words.

“Oh, come on, give me some credit” Namjoon protests. “I'm sure I gave her some of my good genes.”

“Did you now?” Jimin taunts, his eyes remaining locked with Y/n’s.

“w-well, I have to go” Y/n interrupts, taking a step away from Jimin. He lets go of Harumi's hand and stands up straight, another smirk appearing on his lips. He notes the way Y/n nervously adjusts the strap of the baby bag around her shoulder and turns in the other direction.

“See you around!” He calls after her, lifting his hand and waving.

He remains there, even after Namjoon calls out his name. his eyes stay on the spot where Y/n stood only seconds ago holding her child. His smirk falls and he takes a deep breath before turning to face Namjoon again.

“Ready for the meeting?” Namjoon asks, pointing towards the other direction of the hall.

“Ready as I’ll ever be” Jimin responds, moving towards Namjoon.

“fuck” Y/n mutters as she steps into her office, she throws her purse onto one of the empty seats in front of her desk and runs her hands through her hair. “fuck” she repeats as she unbuttons her blouse and falls back onto her chair. She feels like the room is spinning and the suffocating feeling she has grown so accustomed to, returns. This was not the way she had pictured her first day back at all.

She is unraveling and she knows it. she buries her face into her hands and warm tears begin to pour down her cheeks. She doesn’t know what she has done to find herself in this predicament, but she isn’t brave enough to get herself out of it either. She looks back at a picture framed on her wall. It is a shared photograph between Namjoon, Jimin, and herself. They both look down at her with big smiles as she stares into the camera with a smile of her own.

Her eyes narrow as she slips her hand down to her mouth, covering the sobs that escape it.

| a year and 2 months ago |

“If you aren’t quiet, they will hear us” Jimin pants into Y/n’s ear.

But She's deaf to all reason, overcome with her own pleasure as she moves her clothed pussy against his thigh. Her dress has risen above her ass, soft moans pouring like symphonies past her lips. Her cunt pulsates as she continues grinding herself against him, Jimin’s hands travel to the top of her dress which he rips open causing her to hiss.

He skillfully undoes her bra, his eyes admiring her now-exposed breasts in complete awe. He licks up her chest onto her neck as she throws her head back in pleasure. “God, you are gorgeous” he compliments, bringing one of her nipples into his mouth. He laps his tongue over her sensitive nub while his other hand softly rubs against the other.

“Jimin” she pants, the sensation she is feeling is overwhelming, but she has no plans on stopping, the feeling of his hands and tongue alone giving her a high she never wanted to come down from. She feels Jimin’s hand wander down her body, stopping at her hips where he guides her movements.

“You like that baby?” he moaned breathlessly.

She can’t respond, small whimpers erupting from her mouth whilst she remains in complete euphoria. “You like the way it feels when you rub your hot wet cunt against my thigh, baby?” he purrs, earning another loud moan from Y/n. he smirks, his eyes focusing on her hooded eyes and plump lips. “You want more?” he hums, moving her hips a bit faster against him.

Jimin’s cock pulsates painfully against his pants, begging to be released. He moves forward, trying to find quick relief from the agony of the restraint. He wants to turn her out, to have her screaming his name repeatedly. it is all that he has ever wanted and having her here, dampening his pants as she fucks herself on his leg feels like a complete dream, he just wants to savor this exact moment. He wants to engrave this so deep into his memory that he is never capable of forgetting it.

Y/n slides her hand down to the front of his pants, getting hold of his hardened cock. She glides her hand smoothly, feeling his throbbing head through the fabric. Jimin moans loudly, gripping her waist tighter.

“shhhh” she mutters into his ear, planting a wet kiss below it.

He can feel her quicken her movements, seeking out her release. He captures her mouth into his, his tongue intruding past her lips and dancing against her tongue. His hand moves down to her ass, gripping her skin there.

“Nice and slow baby, I want to see you cum all over my lap” he breathes, pulling away from their kiss. Her scent brings out a certain animalistic surge from him as he watches her eagerness to satisfy herself. “Look at you leave all your juices on my pants, you naughty girl” he chuckles lowly.

“Jimin” she responds, her voice a mere whisper. She’s unable to concentrate as his words bring her closer to her orgasm, her hand moving up and down against his hardened member. His pants are drenched in her arousal, but Jimin adores it, he can't get enough of watching her and he can swear that this is his purpose, that he was brought onto this earth for this exact moment.

“You want to ride me, baby?” He hums, his hand holding onto her face which he brings closer to his, his other hand pushes back loose strands of her hair that have stuck themselves to the sweat forming on her forehead. She nods, eagerly. “Look at me” he commands. She breathes out, her mouth agape. She struggles to keep her eyes open as they look into Jimin’s in complete pleasure.

“Yeah, you want to ride me?” he asks again.

“I wanna ride you, Jimin” Y/n answers, whimpering as he lifts the leg which she straddles.

“How bad do you want it?” he purrs, his thumb pressing against her lips.

She takes his digit into her mouth and sucks, which causes Jimin to whimper painfully.

“Real bad” she moans out.

“Fuck, you look beautiful like this” he notes, his eyes narrowing on her. “I want to fuck you” he groans.

“Fuck me, Jimin” she begs and he almost cums from those words alone. Her voice is soft and raspy and it's enough to disconnect Jimin from all rationality. she’s unable to catch her breath, her hips buckling down on his thigh as his hands come down to grip her ass harshly.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long” he confesses, his eyes devouring her state. The way her breasts bounce with every one of her movements, her flushed cheeks, and clammy skin which glistens under the lamp above them.

“How long?” she asks, mustering a smirk on her lips.

“Since the day I met you,” he groans, going back to guide her hips against his lap.

“Steady baby, I'm not in a rush” he hums which brings her to slow down her movements. She feels her panties sticking to her soaking cunt, her hips rotating leisurely. He wanders his hand behind her head and takes a fist full of her hair, pulling back with little force.

He kisses down her throat and continues down to her breasts, he licks along them. giving each of her nipples his undivided attention.

“I'm Cumming, Jimin” she blurts, urgency in her voice.

“Are you?” he asks, teasing her.

“Y-yes” she whines.

“Hold it, baby, I want you to cum on my cock instead” he instructs her whilst pulling her off his thigh. She hisses at the absence of pressure between her legs but allows him to lead her. He remains in his seat, her wet-clothed pussy in front of his face now. She looks down at him, her mouth agape in anticipation of what he will do next.

He can feel his dick quivering as he takes in how engorged she had become. “Look at you baby, you’re drenched” Jimin announces. He runs his fingers against her clit, causing her to jolt towards his touch. He takes the digits away and puts them in his mouth, where he licks her arousal away.

He unbuckles his pants and pulls them down to his knees, Y/n drools at the sight of the imprint of his dick against his underwear. His cock appears painfully constricted and the tip oozes pre-cum which leaves a wet spot against the fabric.

“Come on, baby” he reaches for her waist, bringing her closer. “Be a good girl and come sit on my lap.”

Y/n does as told, lying face down over his lap, her ass in the air.

His hands rub softly against her ass cheeks, the motion causing her legs to squish together, giving friction to her pulsating cunt. She moans loudly, her hands holding onto his leg. Jimin dips his fingers in between her folds, moving them against her cunt. She can feel the blood flowing to her head. The combination of that and his touch, causing her to grow dizzy.

“Do you hear how wet you are for me?” he groans, the sound of her juices lathering his fingers echoing inside the small room. He inserts his pointer and index finger inside her and moans at how warm it feels.

He holds a quick pace, moving his fingers in and out and her pussy begins to cream over his fingers. Y/n yelps, unable to contain the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach. He can feel her wetness dripping onto his bare leg now, the scene in front of him enough for him to nut in that very moment but he holds himself together. He’s more than determined to cum into her pretty pussy and that’s exactly what he will do.

“Oh Jimin” she purrs, closing her eyes in pleasure.

“Wish it was my cock, right?” he asks, his free hand coming down hard against her left ass cheek, leaving a red imprint on the skin there.

“All you have to do is ask,” he says, his fingers moving at a slower pace now.

“Please Jimin” Y/n cries out.

“Please what beautiful?” he teases, licking his lips in admiration.

“Please fuck me Jimin” she begs.

“That sounds delicious coming from your mouth” Jimin coos, his dick continues to twitch against his underwear, and he can't hold out anymore. He wants to fuck her senseless, have her screaming his name at the top of her lungs.

“Come here” he mumbles, removing his fingers from her dripping cunt and guiding her off his lap. He notices how her legs shake while she refrains herself from Cumming. She's such a good girl for him and he wants to reward her.

He removes his boxers and his cock springs out, resting rock solid against his lower abdomen. She straddles him, bringing the head of his cock between her folds, her juices wetting the tip of his dick. He throws his head back in complete rapture. “Oh fuck, fuckk” he groans out. He can feel the heat emitting from her cunt and her arousal leaking down the rest of his shaft.

She moves her hips skillfully, rubbing herself against him. his hands fall onto her waist and his lips search for hers, moaning into her mouth as he slips inside of her smoothly. Her warm and sleek walls push him over the edge as he begins to pound up into her whilst she grinds down onto him.

“Just like that baby” he moans loudly “Just like that, don’t stop” Jimin voices, cheering her on. “Fuck It feels so good” he continues. He closes his eyes shut and hisses fall from his lips. Y/n feels so good, so tight and warm against his palpitating cock. He had been right all along, from the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she would rock his world and oh, how good was she doing it.

Her tight walls gripped his cock masterfully, his mouth falling open and his brows pushing together as he becomes immersed in complete lust. He never wanted to leave, never wanted to pull out. Soon the sound of their skin slapping together filled the room along with their whimpers and moans that created a melody he never wanted to stop hearing.

He buried his face into her chest, unable to withhold himself from fucking into her hard and fast. Their sweat-clad bodies moving in unison, Y/n embraces him as he rests his hands on her back.

“You feel so good, Jimin” Y/n yelps, his thick cock pushing against her walls. Jimin bites down on his lip, pounding into her uncontrollably. “Fuck uh,” he groans, losing himself in the sensation. He doesn’t care how loud they are or who is listening from the other side of the door. All he cares about is how good her hair smells and about the way she grips his shoulders as she fucks herself on his dick. The sound of her soft moans and the feel of her clammy skin against his becoming his favorite things.

He continues to drill into her, her small whimpers turning into full-blown screams, and he smiles in satisfaction, knowing that he’s the one causing them. Y/n’s legs ache at the tempo, almost collapsing against him. She buries her nails into the skin of his shoulders.

“Jimin, oh Jimin I can’t” she calls out like a prayer.

“Take It, baby, don’t stop now, take all this dick” Jimin growls. his hands gripping onto her waist tightly, Keeping her still as he moves his cock up into her dripping core. He can feel the familiar tingling in the pit of his stomach and he knows he's going to cum soon but that only makes him pick up his pace. He looks up at Y/n, her eyes shut as she throws her head back.

“Jimin, shit I can’t” she yelps, moments later he feels her walls contract around him, and her body spasms as she becomes undone on his dick. Her vision blurs and there's a faint ringing in her ears, her mouth falling open as her orgasm blocks all her senses.

“so fucking sexy” he moans out, admiring how vulnerable she looks under the dimmed light.

His movements begin to falter, unable to hold back anymore. Her walls are still tight around him, urging him to cum into her throbbing cunt. His breath becomes uneven, and he digs his fingers into the skin of her thighs around him trying to keep some of his control but it's too late, he thrusts into her one last time before hot strings of cum shoot into her. Y/n moans at the feeling of his milk filling her up and her legs tremble as both their orgasms leak down her inner thighs.

There's silence as they both struggle to catch their breaths; she looks down at him and it is only then that realization hits her. Her lips tremble and she begins to move away, trying to cover herself with what remains of her torn dress.

Jimin sits up quickly, watching her closely.

“Hey Y/n” he calls out to her softly.

She turns away from him, warm tears pouring down her cheeks.

“What have we done, Jimin” she cries.

Y/n would be lying if she said it was the last time that it happened, that she didn’t become a skilled liar in order to receive the pleasure only Jimin was able to bring to her. She would kiss her boyfriend goodbye under the pretense of work meetings, girl night outs, and a busy schedule all whilst sneaking away to any dark corner available with his best friend. It was wrong and she knew it but that didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered was the way Jimin made her shudder under his touch. He knew her body like it was the back of his hand, and she was addicted.

Now she was condemned to carry this guilt everywhere. The better Namjoon treated her, the heavier it became. She wasn’t capable of ruining what she had built, even if the foundation was shaky. She had a home and a family, and she was happy.

But Jimin’s return threatened it all, threatened everything she had, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that it scared her.

Perhaps, the pleasure she sought was never worth the pain it would cause.

There’s a light knock on her door which causes Y/n to quickly wipe her tears away, she runs her hands through her hair, and buttons up the blouse she wears. “Come in” she instructs, attempting to gather herself before the door opens.

But once it does and she sees who is stepping through it, Y/n regrets the words that have just left her lips. Her heart drops to her gut and she stares wide-eyed as Jimin closes the door behind him.

“Hey,” he says calmly.

Y/n shuts her eyes, throwing her head back in frustration.

“Listen, Jimin I don’t have time right now” she utters, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ease the pounding headache she now has. He blinks, narrowing his eyes as he takes in her disarranged appearance.

“Are you okay?” he asks, quickly moving towards her desk.

She removes her hands against her temple and holds them up in the air.

“don’t, I'm fine” she mumbles.

“you don’t look fine to me” he states. Y/n lifts her head and looks over at him, her gaze holding a certain enmity. “why did you even come here?” her lips tremble as she asks, her eyes filling with tears that she blinks away, aiming to appear okay. “I wanted to come see you, to check up on you” he answers, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“no” she replies, closing her eyes for a moment and then opening them just as fast. “why did you come back here, why didn’t you stay in Europe” she clarifies. He lowers his gaze and steps away from her desk. “I had to return Y/n, my entire life is here” he answers.

She admits it's true, she knows that his return was inevitable but to say she was prepared for it would be a joke. She thought she would have more time to get her affairs in order or to at least grow some balls and own up to the things she had done.

Namjoon loved her and of that she was sure, but he didn’t know her, not all of her at least.

“I didn’t come here to cause you any trouble, Y/n” Jimin assures her, holding her gaze. He feels his heart ache whilst noticing the way she has become undone in the time he has been gone. If perhaps he hadn’t run like a coward, leaving her to carry their secrets all on her own, she would be less subdued.

But hearing her say she wasn’t able to continue with their affair a year ago had proven to be too much for him to bear because even if he couldn’t tell her he loved her, at least he was giving her a bit of himself in those sheets. Being told he could no longer have access to her, that he couldn’t hold her like he only ever yearned to, well it had hurt him beyond comprehension.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jimin” she sobbed, covering her face in shame. “But I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth either.”

He wanted to reach over and console her, but he doubted that it was something she wanted. she had made that very clear the day before he had booked the first ticket out of South Korea.

“Jimin, we need to stop, I can’t see you anymore” she sobbed. “What we are doing, it's fucked up.”

The memory of that conversation replayed in Jimin’s mind as he stood in silence. It tormented him in the night when he tried to sleep. Pain and guilt tearing him to pieces. He didn’t know what was more fucked up, the fact that he betrayed the man that was like a brother to him or the fact that he never felt bad for it. in his mind, she was worth that and much more. for her, he was willing to betray even himself.

“Which truths are you hesitant to tell?” he asks.

Y/n uncovers her face, her glassy red eyes staring back at him with confusion.

“What do you mean?” she sniffs, rapidly cleaning her tears with the sleeve of her blouse.

“Well, which truth can’t you tell him” He repeats.

“That you and his best friend went behind his back and had sex for an entire 3 months or that Harumi is my daughter?” He leans his head to the side, tears streaming down his cheeks now.

“Because both truths are going to destroy his life” he states, a sob escaping his lips.

Y/n is at a loss for words, her throat becoming dry. She can only stare at him whilst growing mortified. Indeed, she had become a professional at harboring secrets. Once she had begun lying to Namjoon, the lies quickly began piling up, leading her to a point of no return.

“H-how did you know?” she musters to say, her eyes widened in panic. He looks away, his eyes falling on the framed picture of Y/n and Namjoon on their wedding day. “She has my eyes” he whispers.

Y/n follows his eyes, her chest tightens at the image on the wall and more sobs escape her. she’s unable to contain herself and she knows she’s fucked up. She never meant for this to happen. She was happy with Namjoon until one day she just wasn’t and Jimin was there, to help her with all her grievances.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, he’s in agony and Y/n can see that. She remains motionless as the truth begins to unravel in front of her eyes. She feels relief and immense pain all at the same time, so she stays silent, conflicted with her emotions.

“I’ve missed so much” he states. He reaches over to her desk and picks up a picture of Harumi. He admires his child, tracing his fingers over her gummy smile. The woman who sits in front of him has taken something from him, has hidden the most precious thing away. Yet, he can’t bring himself to hate her. instead, he understands. From within his anger and resentment, he digs out his compassion.

“He’s a good dad, Jimin” she cries out. He lifts his stare towards her, sorrow flashing through his eyes.

“I could’ve been a good father too, Y/n” he affirms.

“I know Jimin, I'm sorry” she weeps, she stands up from her chair and approaches him but Jimin backs away, holding the picture of his daughter to his chest. “Please Jimin, I just couldn’t just throw away everything that I had” Y/n attempted to justify.

“you left and I-“she began. “No!” Jimin shouts “No you pushed me away!” he shakes his head, frustration seeping through his mind.

“What we were doing was wrong and I had to put an end to it” she yells back. “Please, try to understand” Y/n tries to catch her breath as the sobs that rip through her leave her shaking in anguish.

“How wrong could it have been when this came out of it?” he asks, holding up the picture of Harumi. Y/n stares at it, her lips pressing together. He leans in closer to her, his hand lifting her chin so that her eyes could meet his.

“How could it have been wrong when we loved each other?” he asks, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Jimin, he's your best friend” she whimpers, closing her eyes in an attempt to ignore the pain that she sees in his eyes which only causes her further torment.

“Either you tell him, or I will, but I'm not missing out on my daughter’s life on account of your happiness” he whispers, he leans back and leaves the room, taking the picture of his daughter with him.

Y/n collapses onto the floor, becoming a heaving mess. “I'm a good person” she bawls onto the floor as she holds onto her aching chest “I'm a good person” she repeats to herself.

Yn drags her feet across her front door, shutting the door quietly as she enters. She drops her work bag on the floor and slips her heels off. She’s met with the sweet aroma of baby lotion and baby wipes, and for the first time since the day began, she smiles. She glances over to her living room, taking in the TV that plays Harumi’s favorite show and her teething toys that are sprawled around the couches. She lingers on the pictures that hang on the wall; she can’t help but admire her happy family as tears begin to sting her eyes.

She takes a moment to look around, to try to engrave this sight into her mind because soon she will be destroying all of it. her heart pulls while she watches Namjoon appear from the hallway, holding her daughter in his arms. “Long day, my love?” he asks, approaching her with a full smile. She hums unable to form any words at all.

The knot that forms in her throat is painful and as she swallows, she realizes it doesn’t budge.

“Uff, yeah very long day” Namjoon jokes taking in her glassy eyes and messy hair. He embraces her with one arm, holding Harumi with the other. “Have you been drinking?” he chuckles. She nods absent-mindedly looking up at the man of her dreams. “Yes, the girls wanted to go out and celebrate my return” she lies again. Namjoon smiles “Good, it’s been a while since you went out with your colleagues for a few drinks,” he says, kissing the top of her head.

Her chest aches at his words, bringing back the memories of the lies she had spoken to him in the past. she is reminded that she could live a thousand lives and she would still never deserve a man like Namjoon.

“You think you can put Harumi down for a bit? We need to talk” she sighs, unable to withhold much longer. He furrows his brows in concern, noticing how Y/n shifts in place.

“y-yeah sure, babe” he walks towards the living room and sits Harumi in her booster seat, passing her one of her toys. He groans as he stands up and approaches his wife.

“Can you give me a massage after this?” he requests, rubbing his back.

Y/n looks up at her husband and nods slowly, sure that after the conversation they will have he will want her to be as far away from him as possible. They walk together into the kitchen and Namjoon notices the uneasiness that pours from Y/n’s aura. He frowns, worried that something bad has happened.

“Okay my love, what’s going on I'm getting a bit worried here” he warns, following behind her as she stops in front of their dining room. She turns to face him, and tears are already pouring down her cheeks. Namjoon panics, taken aback by the sight before him.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He scans her face and reaches forward to try to hold her, but Y/n holds up her hand which stops his movement.

“Please, just let me speak” She shakes in place, her mind wanders endlessly on how to approach the truth, she tries to find a way in which she can break his heart painlessly, but she knows it's impossible. Once she delivers him the truth, she knows everything will be over, but reflecting on the ultimatum Jimin offered her a few days ago, she can't let him find out through anyone else.

“I uhm I’ve been lying to you” she mutters which only gains her a puzzled look from her husband. He takes a step towards her, wanting to stop her tears. Namjoon has never liked to see her cry and seeing her like this only brings him discomfort.

“What are you talking about, Y/n” he tries to reach for her once again but Y/n steps back, shaking her head. “Please, Namjoon” she implores, trying to distance herself from the man she knows loves her.

“Please let me just explain” she continues, he nods but his heart aches. He wants to bring her into his chest and whisper words he knows will soothe her. He has never seen her like this before, she has always been happy by his side and in this moment all he wants to do is protect her.

“About a year and a half ago while you were away in France, Jimin and I met up in my old apartment” Y/n swallows as she looks at her husband, Namjoon nods still holding a puzzled expression. “Initially it was just to hang out because we both missed you and we thought that since we were both alone then it would be okay for us to keep each other company.”

“Okay babe, there's nothing wrong with that,” Namjoon says, a smile appearing on his lips. “you guys can be friends too, I trust you” he continues, taking a step closer towards Y/n. She shakes her head and looks down; she can feel Namjoon’s arms wrap around her.

“Why are you crying, Y/n?” he asks, reaching for her face which he brings up to look at. His brows are furrowed, and he doesn’t understand why she's making such a huge deal out of something so small. He knows his wife and he knows her heart.

“Jimin and I slept together” she trembles, pushing back on his chest.

Namjoon leans his head to the side in confusion, he blinks looking down at her, but his arms stay around her, unable to move from where he stands.

“And not just that night, we slept together for 3 whole months” she continues to confess.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice beginning to grow shaky.

“And Harumi” she begins but cuts herself off as the knot in her throat begins to choke her. She feels the room spin around her and she is trying to hold herself together but she's shaking, and her heart is pounding painfully in her chest.

“And Harumi isn’t my daughter” he finishes her sentence, looking down at her with such compassion that she feels like throwing up. She stares up at him wide-eyed, unable to register the words that he has just spoken. “I know” he whispers, nodding his head. “I've always known” he finishes, he reaches for her cheeks, wiping the tears that slip down them and he presses a kiss on her forehead.

Y/n is shocked, blinking quickly as she comes to terms with what he means, she leans back staring at him in complete disbelief. “w-what?” she asks, he holds no reaction or hatred in his eyes as he looks at her and that only makes her guilt grow. “What do you mean?” She studies him, unable to understand why he isn’t shouting or berating her.

“From the moment I saw her I knew she wasn’t mine, Y/n,” he says, his tone calm and he stares at her in complete adoration. “But I love you and I love Harumi and I wanted this to work,” Namjoon says.

“Why would you do something like that, Joon” she hisses. She shoves him away and steps back, distaste in her expression.

“I don’t care that she's not mine, I've raised her” he answers, attempting to hold onto Y/n again but she pushes his hands away as tears continue to flow past her cheeks. “I’ve been holding this secret for so long Namjoon” she sobs “And you’ve known this entire time?” she asks, fury burning through her at the revelation.

“Since when do you know? Since when!” she shouts. Namjoon flinches and his eyes fill up with tears. If she has been harboring this secret, then he has been harboring some of his own. The moment he laid eyes on the child he knew that she didn’t belong to him but he had to make this work, he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life, he’d rather die than let that happen.

“I didn’t know Jimin was the father” he tries to step to her but Y/n moves, the expression on her face only breaking his heart further. “But I was sure I wasn’t” he contemplates, recalling the day he first held Harumi in his arms.

“let's just forget about all of this please” he begs, and he begins to cry. He is desperate and he just wants this conversation to end, He is reluctant to admit that their relationship might be coming to an end, he can't imagine a life where Y/n isn’t by his side and that breaks his heart more than any truth she has concealed from him.

“No, I'm tired of not facing reality” she responds “Of hiding so many things, Jimin and I are to be held accountable” she continues to shout. “Why? Because you think that will help you feel less guilty for what you’ve done?” he asks.

Y/n goes silent, she now notices the tears that spill down his face. She looks away, unable to hold his gaze because he’s right, the fact that he knew all this time was not the problem. She needed him to be angry so that in some way she could feel better about all of this.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Y/n” he whispers.

“I don’t want you to forgive me Namjoon,” she says “I want you to be angry, to be resentful” because only then could she stop feeling so fucked up, only then can she free herself of the fact that she fucked over a good person. A person who even now can keep empathy in his heart, one that she never had whilst she slept with his best friend.

Namjoon was being merciful, and she couldn’t bring herself to understand why.

“I can’t be angry at you Y/n, not when I love you and if forgiving you means that I get to keep my family then that’s exactly what I will do” Namjoon fights back but he doesn’t realize that there’s nothing left for him to grasp.

“I'm in love with Jimin,” she says, and it is only then that his composure falters. He sighs and looks away.

“No, you don’t” he declares, his eyes hold anger, but he is unable to direct them at her.

“don’t say that” he continues, he feels his heart shatter and the truth finally consumes him. He can’t admit to himself that the woman who stands destroyed in front of him will never be his. That even whilst she lay on his bed every night, her heart belonged to someone else.

“Joon, I'm sorry” Y/n voices, he glances back at her, and Y/n lets out a sob. She’s aware of the way she has broken down the man whose only intention was to love her, and she feels herself crumble under the culpability of the mess she has made.

“I know” he mutters.

should i turn this into 2 parts? please let me know

i might just leave it like that

hope you guys enjoyedd!

#jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin au #park jimin #jimin bts #jimin fic #namjoon x re #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon series #namjoon fic #kim namjoon #bts angst #bts smut #bts au fanfic #bts x reader

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iamadequate1717 · 11 months

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Stede in Season 1

After seeing some rather awful bad faith takes flying around after 2x7, I'm throwing out a beginning defense of Stede Bonnet (loml). It seems insulting Ed's fish is the worst thing that anyone has ever seen, and it really seems to be a continuation of anti-Stede sentiments within the fandom and viewing him as a prop for Ed (and sometimes Izzy) rather than his own character. Fanon Stede is ever patient, ever kind, ever devoted to his partner, and I'm seeing a lot of shock that Stede is a flawed, imperfect person with his own needs, that he says things in the heat of the moment, that people are seeing a less interesting character than what DJenks and friends have created. Stede's a fucking lunatic and I like it.

I'm going to break this into a few posts as I ramble on to the end of 2x7. I have big thoughts on the ending, but I need to lead up to it! I am going to try to be as brief as I can up to the lead up, but I'm not happy with certain parts of the fandom right now (it's just a spat, love you all).

(If you haven't seen the "I hate Stede!" and "I'm so mad at Stede!" posts after 2x7, I am so, so jealous of how you have curated your social media experience.)

Part 1: Season 1

I'm going to note first that this is really a more rambly companion piece of this:

In time budgeting, most of Stede's character introduction and motivations are built into 1x1 through 1x3, but you all know it is a common refrain of these episodes: "Just wait for episode 4!" (OK for newbies, but huge side eye from me with people who have watched multiple times.) Episode 4 is when Act 2 of 3 of Season 1 begins. The foundations of the story have been laid, the cast has been fully assembled, and we enter the rising action (i.e., the meat) of the story in 1x4. It is not that Blackbeard alone improved everything: it was the story structure itself that shifted.

Preferring Act 2 (ep 4 to mid ep 8) and saying Act 1 was bad and "boring" is a disservice to the story and really robs yourself of the payoff action in Act 3 of Season 1 (and now Season 2), in particular with regards to Stede's character. It's a TV show, so you don't have to like all parts or watch it equally, but if you're going to criticize Stede and what he does, you can't ignore the part of the story that tells you the why of everything.

For example, we see people saying Prince Ricky is "exactly how Stede used to be!". Episode 3 disagrees.

Ricky is some Evil Star Trek Mirror Universe version of Stede, and they have fundamental differences in their view of piracy, which feeds into the action of the tail end of Season 2: Stede wants to be part of the piracy world, but Ricky thinks he's above it. The few hours in 2x7 that Stede spends enjoying being cool in the Republic of Pirates is overall sweet (sliding past the murder, lol), not a relationship red flag or Stede being a dick. If you tried to join a group and they finally embraced you, how would you initially act? Being excited for a few hours does not mean Stede has made a forever commitment to piracy and not Ed.

But, I digress. To me, Episode 2 (along with 6, 9, and 10) is far and away the peak of Season 1. We see the crew bonding (and those unique interactions are missing in Season 2's truncated runtime), and we get a deeper look into Stede's head: his initial naivety toward violence, his insecurities, his unique captaincy style and problem solving. If I look at just his insecurities, Badminton's Ghost is Stede talking to himself (like Hornigold was vocalizing Ed's feelings in 2x3). Stede is harsh with himself about his abilities and maturity, and we even see that he took Badminton's petty body shaming in 1x1 to heart.

(Oh, I have thoughts on Stede finally being told he's pretty and then instantly dumped!)

But he continues to degrade himself.

"You're a child with a toy" Stede says to himself. Compare this to Ned Low calling him a "bumbling amateur" in 2x6. Real people voicing these thoughts (like Chauncey in 1x9) messes Stede up.

The local therapist clearly lays out the motivation behind 1x9&10, and Stede still continues with the negative self talk.

And then we get the best mantra!

Yes, baby! You can only be as good as you can be, and you deserve the world.

Stede does not banish his guilt that is haunting him, but Ed comes in at Episode 4, and any more serious feelings is all about Ed.

(Second GIF is a joke. I know it's important to Ed's character. Plz, don't be mad.)

Ed is the deuteragonist, and the story now needs to spend time establishing Ed's character and motivations. This doesn't make Stede's go away, but if you only watch Episode 4 and on, that's what it looks like. There are brief moments of Stede's vulnerability and guilt from then, but not much.

(Side note from a Midwesterner: I've spent too much time finding out if "grain tower" is colloquial for "grain silo" somewhere, and I still don't know.)

Ed and Stede just met here. Ed isn't absorbing much of Stede's comments (Stede also feels trapped, Stede has family guilt, etc), but it goes the other way, too, doesn't it? Stede is recovering from his gut-stab, they're still in a life-or-death situation, and Stede is still feeling his guilt (and just saw more guilt ghost hallucinations). Registering and internalizing what Ed is saying doesn't take priority.

And they enter their cute early relationship phase: They have fun together! They can easily talk to one another! Stede easily forgives Ed wanting to kill him!

Again: in between all the cute and fun, all the heavy stuff is about Ed. Stede deals with the aristocrats who mocks Ed. Stede is gentle with Ed's red fabric. Stede listens to Ed's past without judgment. Stede openly accepts Ed as a friend. We don't see Ed engaging with Stede in a reciprocal manner.

(I was so delighted when Stede called some of this out in 2x4.)

Stede is a few steps behind in their relationship: He doesn't know it's a romance. He doesn't know he was flirting with Ed. He's not immediately understanding what the Act of Grace was to Ed (hubby commitment!) as he's having his Nigel guilt, family guilt, and being seconds away from death swamping him all at once.

In the academy, Ed isn't even listening to Stede. He's moved onto his domestic marriage role while Stede is dealing with his demons.

With 2x7, I see people saying, "Ed was very clear in wanting to leave piracy!" If he was speaking to someone fully engaged with him, I would agree. (That also doesn't make Stede having a few hours' fun the worst thing ever.)

(Aside of what I see below: In Season 2, I see overwhelming praise of Ed and Izzy's performances and very little on Stede. This is not to disparage TW or CO, but Ed and Izzy are more in-your-face and obvious with what is going on internally in their scenes and they are nailing the drama scenes. However, Stede becomes quieter, shutting down into himself, when having high feelings, and RD's acting is very subtle and very beautiful in these moments.)

In The (First) Kiss scene, Ed is clear! He just wants to be Ed, and Ed is happy just being with Stede.

But look what Ed walked in on:

Ed is saying things, but Stede is trying to process big feelings of his own at the same time. Stede is there self soothing, still thinking about what Ed ignored him about in the bunks. "How are you handling things so well?" means Stede isn't handling it well. Ed is excited, but he (and apparently some of the audience!) is brushing off all of what Stede is saying while expecting Stede to take to heart everything that Ed is saying. (I mean, the beginning of S2 shows why Ed is so excited for this life change, but it is frustrating!)

If you only feel bad for Ed at the end of 1x9, please try to imagine Stede's perspective: suppose you have low self worth and are consumed with guilt about people you've hurt and then are seconds away from death twice, are you going to be thinking clearly and prioritizing (and recognizing) the feelings of a guy you've known for a few weeks and didn't know you were dating?

Stede has drawn inward this whole conversation. His answers turn monosyllabic, and his body language turns more and more panicy as the heavy reality of everything sets in.

Stede enjoyed The Kiss, but was this the appropriate time for him? (Like Ed enjoyed The Sex, but was that the appropriate time for him?) They aren't in sync yet, but that doesn't make one party's feelings more valid than the other's or one party evil for being a bit ahead.

With 2x7, I don't know why people thought Stede should be a mind reader and be able to quickly piece together a few statements Ed made while Stede was mentally drowning.

I think it should be noted that as of the end of 2x7, Stede is the only crew member who hasn't had mental reflection and/or therapy in Season 2. He realized Mary, Alma, and Louis didn't need him and he was in love with Ed in 1x10, but the voice calling him a child with a toy, an idiot, weak, and ugly is still there.

Continued in Part 2! (Still to come...)

#stede bonnet #stede did nothing wrong #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd 2x07 #ofmd s2e7 #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #rhys darby #Baby's first attempt at GIFs #ofmd meta

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leovenuslatina · 11 months

Text

Dear you 💖

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

a love letter from your fs 💝

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

psa - this PAC is a little different this is more a channeled message than a tarot reading enjoy!

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

* take a deep cleansing breathe

and pick a pile that calls to you *

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 1

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Dear pile one, I am absolutely thrilled to express my utter joy and excitement at the mere thought of being in your presence. It feels like an exhilarating adventure filled with endless possibilities. When I am with you, time seems to stand still as we embark on an enchanting journey of love and inspiration. Your warmth and comfort embrace me like a cozy blanket, providing solace to my weary soul. Every moment spent together is cherished, as we create unforgettable memories and share the deepest of conversations. Your companionship brings out the best version of myself, igniting a flame within that cannot be extinguished. In your delightful company, I find solace, encouragement, and a sense of belonging that surpasses all expectations. Pile one, you are my safe haven where happiness thrives and dreams come alive – and for that, I am eternally grateful.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 2

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Oh "Dear Pile Two, You Complete Me" - how you fill my life with joy and clutter! As I gaze upon your haphazardly stacked papers, misplaced knick-knacks, and random odds and ends, I can't help but feel an inexplicable sense of fulfillment. You are like the missing puzzle piece to my organized chaos. Who needs a meticulously tidy workspace when they can have the delightful chaos of a well-curated pile? From bills that need paying (eventually) to notes scribbled on Post-it's, you hold the irreplaceable treasures of my forgetful mind. Sure, some may scoff at your seemingly disorderly nature, but little do they know the hidden wisdom within your disarray. So here's to you, oh magnificent dear pile two - although your tidiness might be questionable, your charm is unmatched.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 3

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Dear pile 3, it's only you and me against the world. As I stand here, overlooking the vastness of our existence, I can't help but feel the weight of the universe pressing down upon us. It is in this moment that I realize the magnitude of our relationship, for within your embrace lies all that we hold dear. The world may attempt to tear us apart, but we shall prevail. Our bond is forged through the trials and tribulations we have faced together; a stronghold against adversity. As the tempest rages around us, threatening to consume all that we hold sacred, know that I am steadfast by your side. Our unity imbues me with an unwavering strength; no longer alone in this tumultuous journey through life's torrential storms. Together, pile 3, we defy fate and conquer uncertainty as champions of love and resilience.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 4

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Dear Pile 4, you are my perfect person. The mere thought of your existence fills me with an indescribable mix of joy and longing. Every fiber of my being yearns for your touch, for the sound of your voice whispering sweet nothings into my ear. In this chaotic world, you are the anchor that keeps me grounded, the lighthouse that guides me through stormy waters. Your presence brings clarity to my thoughts and purpose to my existence. From the deepest depths of my soul, I believe that we were destined to be together - two halves of a whole seeking solace in each other's arms. Yet, fate continues to test our resolve, placing seemingly insurmountable obstacles in our path. But fear not, for I shall endure any hardship and surmount every challenge to be by your side. For you, dear Pile 4, are worthy of every sacrifice and every drop of blood spilled in this epic battle against destiny itself.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

#black tarot readers #pick a pile #future spouse #channeled reading #pick a card tarot #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #tarot #tarot cards #tarot daily #tarotblr #love reading #love messages #lovers #i love them

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dinsdjrn · 1 year

Text

everything i wanted | j. miller | track two

track one | track three | masterlist

bodyguard!joel AU

AU!Joel x singer!f!reader

summary: I'm scared to death I'll scream your name and still there's not a thing I would change. That's okay, but I think about it. rejection never gets any easier, but we all find ways to move on. [w.c: 4.4k]

tags for the series: 18+, minors DNI, angst/fluff/eventual smut, sarah's dead (plot), ellie is alive, parental manipulation/abuse (maternal) (reader is in a classic love bombing abuse cycle please note the mother is not redeemable), depression, drug and alcohol use, sobriety, stalker behaviour from a fan, will update as i go, this ones gonna get dark but it will have the happy feel good too! as always if anything is missing tell me and i will add it!

a/n: i am back from vacation and ready to write the days away. this one is for @tightjeansjavi who keeps me going and reminds me not to quit.

track two - think about it

It always felt weird to record a song that struck a chord close to your heart. You were pulling on the most exhausting day of your life, and it wasn’t even entirely yours anymore. It had been polished and produced into something you recognized, but not something you knew and understood. It was a frustrating, but undeniably, good song. It held some of the grit you craved, whilst keeping the image that was carefully curated for you.

Overall it had been a successful morning in the studio and your complaints were for you to bury alone. When everyone had taken a break to grab a coffee and come back with fresh ideas, you stayed behind to send a small clip to your parents.

[Audio Message]

Finally a complete song for the deluxe!! Can’t wait for you to hear the rest :)

Your dad loved the message, all you got back from your mom was a ‘Call me’.

You sighed making your way out into the hallway where there would be better reception. To no surprise Joel was just outside the door of the studio waiting.

“I’m just making a call, uh, to my mom,” you said, not entirely sure why you explained it to him.

“Do you want some privacy?” He asked.

“Oh, oh no, it won’t be long. Sorry, I just didn’t know-“ you rambled, cut off by your phone buzzing in your hand. You swiped to answer it, now flustered from the most meaningless interaction with Joel.

“Hey Mom, How’d you like the clip?” You asked excitedly.

You slowly sat down on the floor across the hallway from Joel.

It was something that could go either way, but you were hopeful your excitement would deter a rude remark.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She spat.

“What?” Your voice dropped, clearly defeated.

Joel looked at you perplexed. You just rolled your eyes and sighed.

“This isn’t a hit for the deluxe! Telling your fans you hate them is no way to make people WANT to listen to you,” She exploded, completely missing the point of the song.

“Well you’ve just heard a bit, it’s about more than that.”

“It’s not what it’s about, it’s how it’s perceived.” She was condescending.

“Okay, sorry mom.” Your voice broke.

“Well don’t make me out to be the bad guy, you asked for my opinion. At the end of the day it’s your album and whether you sink or swim is up to you,” Her tone was sharp and quick. It dug into your mind in a way only she knew how to do.

You weren’t sure why you put up with her anymore, maybe you felt guilty, maybe she is just under a lot of stress, maybe, maybe, maybe…

“No, you’re right,” you sighed wiping tears away, “We’ll work on it.”

“Love to hear it sweetie. The next one will be it I’m sure!” Her tone changed again, giving you emotional whiplash.

“I have to go, the studio is going back in.” You lied.

“Go on! Make a hit! I miss you!” She promptly hung up before you could reply.

As the call disconnected you felt the tears welling in your eyes spill over. Her words didn’t hurt you like they used to, they frustrated you to no end.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

You weren’t paying super close attention to your surroundings, but you felt a presence sit next to you on the floor.

“Hey, hey, it will be okay,” it was Joel talking to you, comforting you.

“I’m sorry, she is just so fucking frustrating,” you leaned your head back against the wall.

This was so beyond what you’d ever expect of him, but it was comforting nonetheless. Your heart swelled at the sentiment. You weren’t one to really crush on anyone, but Joel had this gravity to him that pulled you in.

“You’re okay, she has no idea how amazing it is,” he continued softly.

“What?” You asked, confused at this new softer side of Joel.

“The song, it’s great. I know people are going to love it.” He offered a small smile.

“We won’t know until it’s out there,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Well I know, for a fact, one fourteen year old girl is going to love it,” He continued, “Hell I’ll probably hear it so much I’d pay you to take it off the album for me.”

You offered a sympathetic laugh for his attempt at a joke.

“Ellie?” You asked.

“Yeah, the kid loves you, it didn’t connect until well… we got here.”

“What made you finally recognize my music?” You asked out of curiosity.

“The album on the wall, I’m pretty sure we have it on vinyl. And I’m fairly certain that vinyl rarely leaves the record player.” He rolled his eyes, they were softer than normal.

You weren’t sure if it was out of sympathy for your pathetic display, or fondness for discussing his daughter. Either way you liked this side of Joel, it tugged at your heart. His complexities making your mind wander, you want to see him, really know him.

“Well, she is welcome here anytime,” you said.

You placed a hand on his crossed arms, it sent a chill down your arm and spine. Just a touch sent you into a frenzy. Your hand lingered and the silence drew on for just a moment longer than it needed to. Joel cleared his throat and it brought you back.

“Thanks, uh, yeah thank you,” he turned away from you standing up.

You had stopped crying and stood up to meet Joel.

“Thanks, for being there. Well, and boosting my ego,” You smiled making your way to the door behind him.

“Anytime,” he said with some southern drawl.

You didn’t spend much more time in the studio that day. Your head wasn’t in it anymore and everyone could tell. You also had drinks with James to get ready for. Once everyone called it an early day you headed home to change and get ready for a night out. He didn’t say anything the entire way home, just like the day before. Joel followed, he kept his distance, staying in the common spaces looking somehow both devastating and intimidating.

“Joel,” you breathed, dizzy and giddy from the atmosphere and the alcohol in your system.

When you had agreed to go out, you only committed to one drink. Then one drink turned to four, and pounding back drink after drink made the world fade away. The booth gossip no longer interested you, you took James by the hand and made your way to the dance floor, Joel following suit.

“We should get you home,” he stated, attempting to shuffle you back to the table.

“This could be fun, if you let it! We could make the most of a bad situation!” You threw your head back and laughed.

You brushed your hand against his arm. This was bold and unlike you in all aspects, but you were letting go. Letting go of the past 3 days, letting go of the past 5 years, letting go of every rational thought you’ve ever had.

“No, you don’t know me. You’re drunk. I’m here to do a job, nothing more, nothing less.” He pulled away from you and forced you back to the table.

“Joel, you don’t understand. I haven’t felt like this for anyone in a long time and you have to tell me you feel it too.” Your tone growing serious, accusatory.

What he said next sent an arrow straight through your soul. It was sobering and rejection hadn’t hit this hard in a long time.

“I don’t, there is nothing between us. If you got caught up with me that quickly you’ll get over it twice as fast.”

His words winded you, you were too drunk to read him, but you tried. There was no sense of regret, mistruth, no sense of anything really. He was cold as the moment you met and it was harrowing. You’re sure if you were sober you’d see nothing but a cold, uncaring man.

You had never felt a pull like this from anyone, and in the short time you’d known one another you desperately wanted to believe he felt it too. That’s all it was though, desperation. The first person in so long that made you believe that they might care about you, even if it was just for a paycheck. In less than three days he had treated you like more of a human than half the people you had met in the last five years.

“Take me home, now.” You whispered. Unable to look him in the eye.

So he did, like any security detail would, he got you into the car with minimal disruption from paps. Not a word was spoken between you, the silence warped to your despair. Being turned down so blatantly was something you were used to from labels, but never like this. Never with someone you felt such a connection to so quickly.

In the car your phone buzzed, you thought it was James asking where you went. It came from an unknown number.

You can leave, but I will always follow…

It was definitely from the same person, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care. This was your secret to keep. You didn’t want to come off as overly dramatic as your mother had previously accused you of doing. So you deleted the message and moved on, it wasn’t like it was a note at your door.

When you got back to the apartment you made your way to your room without a word, stumbling down the hall. You didn’t want to cry, not for this. You wanted to sleep and hoped that this night would become a hazy memory, bound to your drunkenness like a secret.

You stared at the bathroom mirror hoping that at the very least you could harness this feeling into capital. The thought made your palms clench and chest tight, you felt like you were suffocating. It sent you into a spiral you hadn’t felt in a long time, the fear of failing, not being good enough overwhelming you. This album was eating you alive and all around you you were surrounded by rejection, from Joel, from your mother, from your label; every direction pulled your head below the water in a new way.

You hadn’t had a panic attack in years. You reached in the cabinet for your meds, you hadn’t needed them in so long, but as the tension in your chest began to build you felt yourself slowly losing control.

Gripping the counter you let this feeling fester until it slowly passed. All you were left with was the fading buzz of the drinks in your system becoming a sleepy haze you were sure to regret in the morning.

The next morning, the night before wasn’t brought up. It was almost unnerving how cold Joel was toward you but somehow he came off as indifferent. You knew any trust or relationship you had built was officially gone. Nothing left but ruins in your wake.

By noon, he was gone and his relief Will Jones had arrived. Will was an older gentleman who clearly kept up with himself over the years. He was warmer than Joel and would make conversation the same way you’d make it with your dad. You knew you’d get along fine, but he also wasn’t Joel.

You weren’t too keen on conversation, somewhere between the dull ache in your chest and your hangover you’d forgotten

your kindness. So Jones gave you your space and you worked on your music.

And that’s how it went… for three weeks you’d rotate between Joel and Will. Not saying much to either of them. Wake up, go to the studio, get nothing done, go out and forget your frustrations, and repeat. Three weeks of failure in the day forgotten with a bender in the night.

Texts would come through, always from a different number. Always along the lines of missing you and loving you, never threatening you. You never thought much of them and always kept them to yourself deleting them soon after they came in.

You were falling apart and didn’t think anyone was going to notice. No one ever had before and there wasn’t anyone close enough to you to care.

You felt stuck creatively, nothing you were making was impressing producers enough. You felt stuck personally, forever between a rock and a hard place. Your mother berating you for coming up with nothing, receiving a cold shoulder from Joel who you had only grown more fond of, feeling so isolated and alone even though this is what you’ve always dreamed of. You should be grateful for everything you have, but it came at the expense of your soul.

It had been a particularly bad night for you, Will was with you tonight and you had gotten particularly clobbered. It was messy and no one was brave enough to stop you. You felt the eyes and phones on you and it was the moment you knew this was going to be a mess your team would have to clean up. Your carefully curated image of a humble small town artist was being thrown out the window. Just one night where the eyes at the bar looked a little too closely, they found out a little too much about you. It would all come crashing down in just a few short hours.

“Get me out of here,” You said to Will, pulling on his sleeve like a toddler.

“Let’s go,” He quickly shuffled you out of the bar and to a car that was waiting outside.

The paparazzi were insane this time around and you had never felt so scared. The word must’ve already been out where you were and everyone wanted the shot that would destroy your image. It was worth so much more than a photo of you leaving the studio, or on a pre planned date with another emerging artist.

The flashes made you nauseous and the banging on the windows and shouting from outside the vehicle had installed a new type of fear and anxiety within you. You clenched your fists and loved your eyes solely focusing on your breathing and heart rate. It was hard to focus in with all the noise around you and you knew that if their cameras got the shot it was going to be messy but you had to calm down.

Eventually your car had made it through the mob of people and back to your apartment. You needed to collapse in bed, just sleep and forget everything. As soon as you came through the door you made your way to bed, fully clothed, make-up on, and began scrolling through twitter. Of course there were photos of you from tonight that had begun circling. TMZ was already spinning a story about how you had flown off the handle, with a full segment to come in the morning. Daily Mail had jumped on an article too in the forty minutes it took you to get home.

Just like that it had all come crashing down so fast. Maybe it was the attention you had wanted, maybe not. Something about having your image fall apart and the world watching you come undone was cathartic and yet you didn’t feel any better. You knew you were making a mess for someone else to clean up. You were still buzzed beyond your capacity to form a coherent thought about the repercussions you would face. You knew what was to come and yet, in your state, couldn’t bring yourself to care. So in the most pathetic attempt to make the pain go away, you fell asleep.

Someone had woken you up the next morning, it didn’t feel like you had slept for very long. It could also be that you had slept a long time, you were just hungover. You rubbed your eyes which had felt extremely dry, and when you looked at your hands the black smears of mascara reminded you of the night before. You had fallen asleep without even making an attempt at getting ready for bed. You had never felt so disgusting, you’re sure you were a pitiful sight.

“What time is it?” You croaked.

“It’s nine in the morning.” A voice you hadn’t expected said.

“Mom?” You questioned fully opening your eyes and looking at where the voice had come from.

There she was in the flesh. She looked as if she had just walked off the page of a magazine, not a single piece out of place.

“What are you doing here?” You sat up and questioned. Your head was pounding and you struggled to put the pieces of why she would show up unannounced together.

“I flew out as soon as I saw what was going on on twitter,” She started, “And I’m glad I did. This was the first thing I saw when I landed this morning.”

She stood and stalked toward you dropping a tabloid paper on the end of your bed.

There you were in all your drunken glory, right on the front page, trying to escape the bar the night before. You flip to the article which basically called you out for cracking under the pressure of fame. Maybe they were right, you had reached your tipping point of rejection.

You couldn’t stop what came next, but everything just came crashing down. And as if you were a kid again your mom came to your side and wrapped herself around you.

She whispered that it would be okay, and how proud she was of you and for a moment you believed her. It didn’t matter what her motives were, whether or not she just wanted you back in the studio. It was nice to feel like someone cared, you’d been so surrounded by ghosts who didn’t give a shit about you to sit and be held and be told your love was enough to forgive her all over again. These were the tender moments you clung to for dear life. Without them there would be no one left to care about you, and you would fade away.

“Come on, let’s get you ready to go,” she said when you had started to calm down.

There it was, she wanted you back into the studio to capitalize on this. For the moment you could forget about that though, because at least she was here, at least she cared.

Within the hour you had made it to the studio and started tweaking some of the songs you had worked on before. Your mom had made herself brief and was on the next flight back to New York. Her work was done and you had been put on a strict studio to home lockdown by your team. It was for the best.

The morning in the studio had been weird, Will and Joel were supposed to switch off today and as the day grew later you wondered if Joel had finally thrown in the towel. Just as your mind got away from you he came in flustered with a kid in tow.

“Thanks for covering for me man,” He said to Will.

He turned to you and looked apologetic, “Is it okay if Ellie sticks around today? She got into trouble at school and my brother was already at work, no one was available to watch the kid this short notice?”

“Oh yeah, of course!” You smiled and said a little too cheer-y.

Joel looked at you for a second longer than comfortable and his eyes grew softer. He was reading you like a book. You’re sure you didn’t look great but no one had made a note of how miserable you looked.

“Thanks,” he stepped toward you.

“You alright?” He spoke softly, looking directly at you.

You melted away at his concern, you felt like you were the only person in the world. His features grew soft just for you and all the feelings you tried so hard to get rid of had pushed their way to the surface again.

“Yeah, I will be,” And just for a second you believed it.

Your focus came back to the room and the young girl shifted behind Joel.

“Hi! Ellie, so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!” you stood and made your way to her.

Ellie then smiled so big and beamed your way. You pulled her into a hug and she reciprocated. When you pulled away you could tell she was just buzzing.

“I’m such a huge fan,” She said.

“So I’ve heard. I hear you’re also quite the guitar player?” You looked at Joel who was smiling fondly at the interaction between the two of you.

“I’m alright,” She said shyly.

“Well, I have a song I need some help with so let’s see what you’ve got?”

You and Ellie took a seat on the couch, you were excited to introduce someone to this world. You always felt like the one who knew the least but you could see the light and excitement in her eyes.

“So I usually try to tell a story, pull from hardships in my life,” you explained.

“Oh,” Ellie said and shifted a bit uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to though? Is there anything you feel you want to get out in the world?” You asked.

“Well,” Ellie hesitated, “I guess there is one thing, that’s kinda bugging me.”

“Okay?” you pressed.

“See, there’s this, uh, girl. She isn’t out yet but we were together for a bit.. and uh, well she ended things but I still have feelings for her.” Ellie’s demeanor changed and became disheartened.

“Wait, I actually think I have something you might be able to help me finish,” you said frantically digging in your bag for your notebook.

And that’s how it started. You and Ellie spent the day writing a melancholy love song together. Little did she know the piece you had written was for her father.

The song spoke of the one person who could derail your whole life if they wanted and you had so much fun writing and recording with Ellie. She even helped with the harmonies and the production. It was a great song and throughout the whole process you and Joel shared knowing looks with one another. For a moment there was a sense of understanding and forgiveness between you.

You wanted to grip onto this moment and never let it go. Forget all the scandal, the fear, the things that got you into this position and just hold onto the feeling of understanding between you, Ellie and Joel.

All good things must come to an end though, as Ellie left with her uncle so did the warmth that Joel carried. You felt as if you were back at square one and there was nothing you could do about it.

The drive home was quiet and uncomfortable as it had been the night he turned you down, but you couldn’t figure out why.

When you returned to the apartment it was so quiet. You and Joel hadn’t spoken much in the last three weeks but this silence was deafening. There was so much you both wanted to say but neither of you could find the words.

“Goodnight, Joel,” You said quietly, getting ready to take your leave.

“Y’know I saw the pictures from last night?” He said and you were taken aback.

“I’m sorry?” You tensed, not needing a reminder of your downfall.

“I saw them all, you dancing with those random guys. Shit faced beyond yourself. I couldn’t help but blame myself,” He looked at his feet.

“Joel it’s not your-“

“I lied to you,” he cut you off.

“Oh?”

“Three weeks ago, I lied to you and told you I didn’t feel anything. I don’t know if you were being truthful or if you were just drunk, but I felt that connection too.” He admitted.

You were left speechless.

“I lied because I have a job to do, and I have to keep you safe. I couldn’t risk that for what I thought was just a fleeting moment of attraction. Seeing you last night though? That nearly killed me. I wanted to rip their damn heads off, the men, the paps, all of them.”

He sighed and continued, “I care about you, I care about the way you feel. I want to know you, I want you to care about me and that’s fucking terrifying.”

“Joel,” you said barely above a whisper, not sure what to believe.

You hadn’t realized it but he had made his way to you, and once you noticed his presence was suffocating.

“I want to keep you safe. After seeing you with Ellie today I don’t want to wonder what could have been. I need to know.” He looked right at you, moving a piece of hair away from your face. Gently cupping your cheek.

“Joel, I’m a mess.” You turned away from him. “The whole reason you’re here is fucked up, and I clearly am not one to handle things well. I’m so fucking scared and I-“

Before you could continue his lips found yours and you were pulled into an all encapsulating kiss. The way his lips moved against yours was like a man starved. It was delicate but desperate all the same. You sighed against him and he wrapped his hand around your waist gripping you close. It said everything you couldn’t say to one another. Nothing had ever felt more right and for the first time in so long you had felt safe, like everything was going to be ok.

When you finally pulled apart his hand lingered on your waist and you knew there would be so much to discuss in the days to come. Now was not the time though, the what ifs, and logistics could come later. For now you were wrapped in the bliss of the truth, the safety of your apartment, and the idea that this moment was just for you.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you smiled, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he said and released his hands from your waist.

You were on cloud nine as you got ready for bed, tired from the emotions of the day and still nursing a wicked hangover.

Just as you were getting ready for bed another text from an unknown number came through. Your heart stopped and elation came crashing down.

How could you?

tags: @pedgeitopascal @morning-star-joy @canseethebrushstrokes @skysmiller @contemplatingchemtrails @kyloispunk @skythighs @reader-without-a-story @aryastark-baratheon @thetriumphantpanda @ilovepedro @beskarandblasters @joelsversion once again i am horrid at tag lists but happy to make an attempt at adding u <3

#joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel miller

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Backburner 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is easy going until he’s not.

Characters: Sam Wilson, this reader is known as Dizzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Diz,” Sam strolls up to your desk, startling you so your chair tilts dangerous, “what are you doing tonight?”

Your lips open and you blink, turning your dumb expression into a weird smile. You sputter, surprised by the question. You take a breath and fix your posture.

“Drinks,” you blurt out.

“You asking me out?” He tweaks a brow and smirks.

“Oh, no, me and the girls. It’s cocktail night!” You can’t help but clap your hands.

“Cocktails? Get an appletini on me,” he says.

“I’m more into mimosas,” you say sheepishly, “is there--” your smile twitches, “is there something tonight? For work? Did I forget--”

“No, I was curious. Was gonna offer you some tickets to this hockey game. I’m not much into it but a vendor sent them.”

“Mm, no, I’m not very sporty. I did play badminton in high school but I don’t really know about hockey or whatever,” you shrug, “sorry.”

“That’s fine, I’ll ask Marty. I think he’s a Habs fan. Go figure.”

You nod and wait until he strides away to go back to your work. Well, you were playing solitaire when he walked up but it’s been a very dull day. You sigh and check your phone. You’re still on for tonight. The girls all seem jazzed for it. Except for Izzie but she’s living her life up in some confidential location.

You piddle away the day. Sam can’t seem to sit still as he comes in and out of his office several times to chat or just to ask you the same questions over and over. Admittedly, it’s a slow day. When at last you’re free, you’re eager to get home and get into something cuter.

Your commute goes quickly as you listen to a podcast about animal facts. You get off at your stop and hurry to your building. That feathered sweater is going to look so cute with your mini skirt. You put on the loud red top over the primary blue sheath and pick out your platform loafers. You’re a bit topsy turvy and a few mimosas won’t help that but you’re ready for fun.

You get to Retro’s at the same time as Rosie and jump her with a surprise hug from behind. You giggle as you enter and give your reservation to the hostess. She remembers you from all the other times and gets you seated. The 80s hits bop from the speakers as you wiggle in your seat.

“I love Whitney,” you vibe along.

“You’re silly,” Rosie chides.

“Come on, get funky,” you clasp your fingers through each other and do the wormy thing with your arms.

““Hey, guys,” Missie appears in a cluster of polka dots and frills, “how’s it going?”

“Miss Missie,” you greet her with a giggle, “waiting to get the party started.”

“Ah, yes,” she sighs and rubs her shoulders, “after today, I need a double! My boss... well, let’s leave work at work.”

“Izzie’s not coming,” Rosie says.

“Yeah, too bad. I can’t remember the last time I saw her,” Missie tuts. “Excuse me, I gotta hit the bathroom.”

Missie walks off and you and Rosie chatter about the new knitting pattern she found on pinterest. She shows you on your phone as the din fades into the back of your mind. You’re a bit too talented at blocking out the world.

“I feel better,” Missie proclaims as she sits down, “been holding my bladder since work.”

“The others on their way?” Elfie asks as she appears behind the other girl. You flinch in surprise, ripped back into reality.

“Georgie’s running behind,” Rosie says, “she just messaged. And Billie’s been quiet today.”

Elfie sits and you all reach for your phones in unison. You open up Izzie’s video message and show the table her recording of a parachute jump. Wow! You wouldn’t mind trying that one day.

Billie shows up shortly after as the chatter around the table continues. You sit with Rosie and Georgie joins you soon after, looking defeated as she explains she’s going away tomorrow. It all sounds so exciting. Izzie’s jumping out of planes, Georgie’s going to Barbados, and Billie got a new position. Your job is so boring. As fun as Sam is, he’s predictable.

You get into the music again, swaying and bouncing, as Billie gives you the side-eye. The waitress approaches with a full tray but you don’t remember ordering. Elfie crinkles her nose, “I don’t think that’s for us.”

You eye the bright green drinks in stemmed glasses.

“Some gentlemen sent them,” the server nods over her shoulder.

You sit forward to see through the crowd and a hand waves over the heads. You stand slightly as a few other girls raise themselves up. The waitress hands out the appletinis and Billie mutters about her tequila.

“Who is that?” Rosie asks.

“That’s my boss,” you exclaim and wave back at Sam.

“What the hell is he...” Billie starts then quickly turns around and hides. “Shit, he’s with my boss!”

“Your boss?” Elfie wonders.

“One of them,” Billie growls.

“And... is that... Mr. Rogers?” Rosie utters. “What are the odds?”

You purse your lips and look down at the glass. Well, you did tell him you’d be there so you’re not so sure of the coincidence. You’re not going to tell them though, Billie looks ready to fight.

“It’s so nice of them to send some drinks though,” you say.

“Yeah,” Rosie agrees.

“But why?” Elfie wonders.

“I won’t deny a free drink,” Missie slurps and her cheeks pinch, “oo, sour.”

Georgie drinks silently and checks her phone. She quickly tucks it away and takes another deep gulp. Elfie doesn’t taste hers, staring at it in disappointment. Well, you’ll enjoy yours. It’s about time you switched it up.

“Should we buy them some drinks?” Missie suggests, “it only seems nice.”

“No, it’s girls’ night,” Billie insists, “that’s just an invitation and I think we can all agree, we’re done with bosses tonight.”

“Here here,” Elfie raises her glass for a cheers, “fuck work.”

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #backburner #series #au #drabble #bad bosses #mcu #marvel #falcon #captain america #avengers

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putschki1969 · 1 year

Text

New Message Service "yodel" for Keiko Fan Club Members

A new service will become available for members of KEIKO's Official Fan Club "Meat & Chocolate". The mobile application "yodel" offers a service that allows each member to receive messages directly from KEIKO. Those messages will contain exclusive photos, videos, and voice recordings featuring a more candid and casual KEIKO that is completely unlike from the KEIKO you see in the Message Movies.

The app has a free trial period of 2 weeks, so be sure to give it a try! Message delivery is scheduled to start on Monday, July 10th at around 12:00 (JST). Don't miss the first message! ■ Message delivery start: July 10, 2023; 12:00~ ■ How to participate: Click the 「検索ワード」 button on the FC site to confirm your FC membership and receive your keyword! ■ Download the "yodel -message app-" in your app store [Please note that the app isn't available in all local app stores!] ■ Enter your designated membership information on the "Add Artist" screen in the app, click "Subscribe" when KEIKO appears. ■ Precautions ・You must be a member of the fan club to subscribe ・The first 2 weeks after registration are a free trial. After this period ends, you will automatically be charged 300 yen monthly ・You cannot receive messages unless you subscribe ・Messages will be sent at random ・There is an additional charge for sending letters (160 yen/letter)

yodel - メッセージアプリ - General Description yodel is a new communication service that connects you with your admirers by "talk" and "letter". [Main functions of yodel] ■ Talk By subscribing to your favourite artists, you will receive messages that can only be seen here, such as "photos" and "videos", as well as "voice messages". You can also send a reply message. ■ Letter You can send fan letters directly to your favourite artists. There are "card" type and "letter" type templates for letters. Please choose according to the message you want to convey.

Thoughts: Oh boy, I just spent an entire post ranting about Hikaru using a weird app and now Keiko launches a similar service. It's almost as if I jinxed this🙈 Why do they feel the need to use such "cheap" idol tools??! Is it just to earn a few extra bucks? Or to appeal to a wider (younger) audience? Because I can imagine there are FAR better ways to do that. I've never had an issue with fan clubs as a concept, paying a bit of extra money for a bunch of well-curated exclusive content is totally fine with me (especially since it's such a big thing in Japan for all sorts of artists) but having to subscribe to shady, little-known apps or platforms that feed into unhealthy parasocial relationships is on a completely different level...

#kalafina #keiko #news #keiko news #fan club exclusive content #meat and chocolate #niku to chocolate #yodel

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the-priestess-of-dawn · 8 months

Text

but you still matter: (grima x chrom) because the whole story turns on the memory of a friend

Tracklist + thoughts under the cut

1. Hollow - Cloudeater

I stay empty, I feel the hunger So simple when I was younger I awaken with the thunder A bold statement to end my slumber

2. Valentine's Day - Linkin Park

And the ground below grew colder As they put you down inside But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing

3. Black Sun - Death Cab for Cutie

How could something so fair be so cruel When this black sun revolved around you?

4. When I Watch The World Burn All I Think About Is You (Demo) - Bastille

Oh, lay me down in ash again And watch the world crumble Oh, oh, oh, oh All I think about is you

5. Youth - Daughter

And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one 'Cause most of us are bitter over someone Setting fire to our insides for fun To distract our hearts from ever missing them But I'm forever missing him

6. Back to You - ROMAN

I hear your voice like a crash but It's only a whisper, it’s already fading I yell so loud at the world I'm lost in the shadows It's already fading

7. Echoes of You - Marianas Trench feat. Roger Joseph Manning Jr.

You know I tried to make it vanish I just want to make it vanish But the notes of an old mistake Still ring louder every day

8. Asking for a Friend - CHVRCHES

'Cause I filled my bed with my regrets But it hasn't killed me yet None of it mattered None of it mattered And the mess we made on Fridays Gave me Sundays on my knees But you still matter You still matter

Enjoy crying over Grima :::)

No but see, I was listening to my (large, disorganized) main Chrom/Grima playlist when I started thinking... you know, I could divide some of these songs into sub-categories... make some curated playlists focused on a particular theme...

So I decided to go with "Grima's eternal longing for their dead other half."

There's kind of a... not exactly a narrative, per se, but... a progression, I guess, with these songs. Starting at the beginning with Hollow, we have Grima's feelings of emptiness, of hollowness... and that's it. And then we have Valentine's Day, where it's like, okay, sure, Grima took note of Chrom's burial, but it's not THAT important. "The heartless wind kept blowing." (and what does it say that Robin was the wind at Chrom's back?). Moving on to Black Sun, we get to the idea that okay, maybe it was important, actually. Chrom was the center of Grima's world. His death was cruel. With When I Watch The World Burn All I Think About Is You we see a further concession. Fine, so Grima thinks about him constantly. They're destroying the world but he's what's on their mind. No big deal. But then we have Youth, and the reveal that burning the world down is really just "setting fire to our insides for fun, to distract our hearts from ever missing them." Then we have Back to You, where Chrom's voice is fading, Grima's very sense of self is fading, and no, it's not what they want. It's not. Echoes of You is a swelling of guilt. The remnants of memory, the echoes of Chrom, won't actually go away. And then, finally, we reach Asking For a Friend. Nothing that Chrom and Robin fought together for mattered. They made a mess of the world and failed to create peace, failed to save anybody at all, only brought ruin... but even though their story was a failure, it still mattered. To Grima, Chrom still matters. He never stopped mattering.

I remember reading a post here on tumblr a few years back (and I'm sure I'll never find it now, because well, you know how tumblr search is) about the value of tales that end in tragedy. How these stories tell us that even when our heroes fail, their journeys, their lives, nevertheless mattered. That they had an impact worthy of being shared.

And of course, me and my 24/7 Grima brainrot immediately thought...

Damn, did Grima ever ensure that Chrom mattered.

#chrom x grima #chrobin #fire emblem awakening #fe13 #fanmix #playlist #hope you enjoy this one 'cause i sobbed for hours putting it together

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sunriseverse · 20 days

Note

soooo how DO u write fem aus that don't feel stilted and ooc? :O

hello anon i owe you my LIFE thank you for asking <3 this is a topic i have a lot of feelings on. i'm not like, the One True Fem AU Rules Maker, obviously, but i think that having a multitude of fem au fics and getting praised on my ability to write canon male characters in character in fem aus gives me the right to have some thoughts on the topic.

okay, to start with: my complaints on things that i've spent over a decade running into. historically, i've found that fem aus tend to have a couple persistent problems across fandoms (and i do mean across fandoms—i've seen these in everything from massive fandoms like marvel, middling ones like pacrim, and tiny cnovels). in my experience, usually they boil down into two flavours: "that's not [xyz character], that's a female oc with his name slapped on" and "oh, you just have no idea how most real sapphics live, do you?". oftentimes these two are entwined; it makes for an off-putting, often cringe-inducing experience as a lesbian trying to read something that's supposedly meant to speak to my experiences—and this is a shame, because often the concept of whatever the fic's plot is is pretty interesting!

(i should specify that i have no experience with het shipping for fem aus—when i say “fem au” i mean all parties romantically and/or sexually involved are women* and that the dynamic is a sapphic and/or lesbian one. also i haven’t seen (much) het shipping with r63 since i started to aggressively curate my online experience—though i remember when i was younger it was often a way for fanfic authors to get around the squeamishness of shipping two men.)

the "that's an oc with a canon name" problem: this is the one i see the most often. for reasons i cannot fathom (i can. it's misogyny), a lot of people writing fem aus come off as, rather than writing "what if these men were women", instead writing the idea of male characters as Women, since, as we all know, Those Soft Pink Women are an entirely different class than Big Strong Men. it's gender essentialism, to be blunt—sure, not an insidious manifestation of it, but one which reinforces misogynistic, sexist stereotypes nonetheless. instead of considering ways a character's traits would remain as a woman, they're reduced to Idea Of Woman. i should specify—i'm not saying that men and women don't often have different lived experiences, especially when it comes to gendered social expectations and what's permitted/not permitted by society. but what often gets missed is that a lot of things can remain the same. you've met a gnc woman, haven't you? i'm not going to get into specific things like "should you change a character's name in a fem au?" because i think that in a lot of cases you can make arguments either way; my point is that, if a character is stubborn and argumentative as a man, why can't they be as a woman? if they're toxic as a man, or passive-aggressive, or intensely emotional, what stops a female version of them being like that?

(and to go on a tangent, of course, if you keep these "unfeminine" traits, you instantly have the opportunity to do some really fun exploration—if this character is one who actively tries to conform to their gender as a man, how do they handle this? how do the people around them treat them differently (or not!) for being "unfeminine" in personality? assuming, of course, that those traits are even considered unfeminine; it's very cultural.)

a note i'd like to add here is that, if you want to keep a character from being ooc as a woman, it's a good idea to keep their dynamic(s) with key characters in canon as canon-typical as possible. of course, this isn't always going to be possible; sometimes, dynamics are a certain way because of gendered presuppositions/assumptions, but that, too, can be something that makes it feel more real! however, i should say that, generally, if you're making a slash ship femslash, unless there's a very compelling reason (and i've almost never run into one), keeping their canon dynamic as best as possible will make not only their relationship, but the characters themselves feel more in character.

the "have you ever met an actual sapphic" problem: this one, i'll emphasise, isn't restricted to any type of person—i hate to break this stunning news, but even if someone isn't straight, this doesn't exclude them from writing something worthy of showing up on what i've personally dubbed "r/straightpeoplewritingsapphics" (and, i should be upfront, some of my early femslash aus suffer from this as well, because i hadn't really ever met any other sapphics, so all i had to go off of was stereotypes around sapphics and sapphic relationships). but i think this stems largely from the fact that fem aus almost never get much traction—so they aren't discussed in wider fanon, so there aren't examinations of dynamics happening the way they do for slash, so writers aren't prompted to critically analyse their depictions, so the depictions tend to be one dimensional or skewed or just badly ooc and feeling unrealistic, et cetera, and into infinity.

however, i think another problem is that, similar to the problem i raised earlier with writing what feels like ocs, is that instead of writing about sapphics, people are writing about the Idea Of Sapphics. i see people go into long internet research rabbitholes to make slash ships make sense for the time period, or culture, read and watch and investigate personal accounts by lgbt men about their lives and relationships, etc—and yet, i don't see people doing the same for female characters as often, let alone sapphics and sapphic relationships for fem aus. and i don't mean that you have to read critical feminist theory and writings about lesbian eroticism if you want to write a 3k oneshot fem au; i just mean that the experiences of sapphics, especially lesbians, are not given importance, even when it comes to portraying us. if you were writing about firefighters, wouldn't you consider how their lives might be different from, say, a doctor? and yet, often, fem aus feel like two (or more) straight women who kiss each other and maybe have sex—hyperfeminine, highly gender conforming, without any connection to other sapphics, sapphic culture, sapphic history, sapphic experiences. you've seen the complaints about two actresses giving the most pursed-lip kiss when they're supposed to be romantically and sexually involved—this is, in my opinion, the fanfic version of that. if you want to portray sapphics and sapphic relationships better—don't make assumptions! read posts or watch videos or read novels or watch films or read manhwa etc etc by and about sapphics and sapphic experiences. if you're not sapphic, it'll help give you a better idea of portraying sapphics; if you are sapphic, you'll probably learn new things and find a greater sense of community! (this is what happened to me—being a lesbian who loves and is friends with and spends time in lesbian spaces is so much better than being an isolated lesbian as a young teen!)

however, i'll leave on a bright note! i've found that, historically, for danmei novels, fem aus tend to be more in character and realistic feeling—hualesbians, for one, and shl fem au fics, for another. i think this has a bit to do with the fact that danmei novel fans tend to be more likely to be sapphic, or at least spend time around sapphics, and fem aus are just more common to start with.

anyway, thank you for the ask!

#lesbian tag #ask #c.txt

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sangijazz · 1 year

Text

Love MegaBytes - a LoveBug AU Stanley x shadow!Narrator fanfic

Chapter 5

----

Notes:

- Content Warnings:

- Viral Corruption;

- Gaslighting and Emotional Manipulation (by both parties);

- Obsessive Behavior;

- Unhealthy Possessive Behavior;

I don’t think that the contents of this chapter are heavy and/or explicit enough to warrant the skip-summary treatment, I hope I’m right, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

And I also apologize in advance if my depiction of sign language is wrong, feel free to correct me.

—

General Notes:

They /them pronouns for the Timekeeper;

They/them pronouns for the Bucket;

I made a little playlist for you, my dears, with songs that I listen to when writing Love MegaBytes (and in general really)

Here

I like stalker songs, there are some odd ones there but they are my Stannarrator songs. I accept recommendations for new songs for the playlist!

Some typos in the dialog are intentional.

I hope the zalgo is readable ;p but if it isn’t there is a transcript at the end of the chapter.

Enjoy~

----

In recollection, resetting might have been a bad idea, but everyone knew it was the only chance. Pink, pulsating, vein-like ruptures assaulted his opening eyes, it was on, in, everything, and everywhere . The ominous throbbing rose light coming out of them was the only thing illuminating the place. Stanley could see from his trapped position, chunks of the wall were missing, much like that little hole that began this all, the headache-inducing green binary he remembered, now laid bare and broken now too with that pink color, they were also bare, his drawings, all gone, stolen? Eaten? Were more things missing?!

Desperately, he darted his gaze to his hand, checking for that same corruption in himself. There was nothing, his model looked untouched.

“O̴k̵a̸y̴,̷ ̵S̸t̴_n̴l̷e̷y̷ ̵d̶e̵a̵r̸.̴ ̶L̷e̷t̴’̶s̵ ̸s̶t̷a̷_t̶ ̸t̴h̷i̷s̶ ̶a̶g̴_i̸n̸”

The voice that rang through the parable was as familiar as ever, but together with it the maddening glitches worsened, now the words were coming out even more broken, repeating, pieces missing.

Now, again in this paralyzed state, his plan seemed flimsy and not that good, too much like last time, he felt the dread and uncertainty quickly creeping through his coded nerves.

“T̷r̵y̷ ̴t̴o̶ ̶f̸o̶l̴_w̸ ̷t̴h̷e̶ ̴s̸c̴r̴i̷p̴t̷ ̸t̸h̷i̶s̵ ̵t̸i̴m̸e̸,̶ ̷a̴l̶r̶i̵g̶h̵t̸,̵ ̵d̷_r̵l̵i̴n̸g̵?̴~̶”

The pulse of the light created stark shadows that looked oh-so alive, and all-consuming. The contrasting forces battled for dominance and also worked together to swallow all.

The Narrator cleared its nonexistent throat, the cue to begin.

“T̵h̵i̶s̴ ̴i̵s̴ ̴a̸ ̷s̴t̴o̶r̷y̸ ̸o̸f̵ ̸a̸n̸ ̸a̷m̴_z̶i̴n̶g̷ ̷m̶a̶n̶ ̴n̵a̴m̷_d̴ ̶S̷t̴a̷_l̶e̶y̵~̸”

Taking the situation into consideration, it would be better to play smart (how he didn’t think of this before is more evidence he wasn’t the smart one), starting to run now would probably be a bad strategy, waiting for a better opportunity closer to the Curator then give chase. Stanley almost felt proud of this one, he prayed it would work.

Surprisingly, the screen of his computer blinked to life, the disparity of its black-gray background and white font against the pink roots covering its surface.

"Hello?!1!

Is anybody there?!?!1?

What the hell is going on?!!?1?"

[??] [??]

Is that…

IS THAT THE TIMEKEEPER?!

Oh, thank the gods, Stanley wasn’t alone! There was another being just as confused and terrified as him. If only he could move he would answer them, send a life signal and assure them they weren’t alone. This made Stanley’s core sprout a wee bit of hope. Were the Narrator and the Parable the only affected? This could be proven to be beneficial, if everyone else was still sound of mind. The dark being was still talking, but its words weren’t registering correctly, they were almost too mangled to understand.

“ –d̵i̸d̷ ̵e̵v̵_r̸y̶ ̵d̶a̸y̸ ̴o̴f̷ ̸e̸v̴e̷r̷y̸ ̴m̵o̸n̷_h̵–”

The second he was allowed to move, he would find a way to click a button as an answer, for the Timekeeper’s sake.

Stanley took a deep breath, ‘siking himself up to put up to the task of pretending he wasn’t scared shitless. His body shook with fear, as the Narrator got near the end of the introduction. Keep it steady, Stanley. He had a task to do.

“S̷o̷ ̶w̷i̴t̸h̶ ̶a̵ ̶s̴_i̴l̸e̶,̸ ̷h̵e̷ ̵g̶o̶t̸ ̸u̷p̵ ̸f̵r̵o̵m̵ ̷h̵i̶s̸ ̸d̶e̴_k̵ ̸a̶n̸d̴ ̷s̶t̵e̴p̸p̶e̶d̶ ̶o̷u̸t̶ ̴o̵f̶ ̶h̵i̵s̵ ̸o̸f̵f̷_c̴e̵.̴”

As soon the engine read and loaded the line that gave him movement, he let his hands fall, purposely letting them hit the keyboard’s key and he hoped it was enough of n answer for them.

Thankfully it was since the effect was instantaneous as more words in white font appeared like they were frantically typed, not caring for spelling.

"Stamley?!?!? Are you okay??! Do you now what th e fuck is going on!?!"

This was unfortunately, that was all he could do – without drawing too much attention or letting the Narrator get impatient – no matter how much he wanted to. Now, he had to play along, he would ask for forgiveness later.

Before the watcher entity could voice its impatience with threats, the avatar stood up, did his best to crack a smile like it wanted, and made what the narration asked for.

All he could see was in the same state as the 427 office and here made Stanley realize how he missed the low humming of the fluorescent light that was much better than the eldritch and indescribable sound of code falling apart hammering bass inside his head, assaulting his ears.

All the Office’s usual colors were muted, gray-scaled except for that bright pink, that the vessel swore that he would hate for his whole life, and now he feared his retinas were permanently stained with that shade. His smile threatened to falter.

“O̵h̶!̸ ̵S̶o̶_e̴o̵n̸e̸ ̸i̷s̶ ̵e̶a̴g̶e̶r̶!̷~̶” beamed the Narrator, thankfully not noticing the minor stumble. “N̶o̴w̵,̸ ̷g̵o̷ ̸o̶n̷,̶ ̶l̷o̴v̴e̷,̴ ̷t̸o̵ ̷o̸u̸r̸ ̸f̷a̵v̸o̵r̷i̸t̵e̸ ̸d̸o̴o̷r̷s̷!̴ ̵A̵n̴d̸,̴” the voice dropped to a lower tone “D̷o̷n̴’̷t̵ ̴f̸o̴_g̸e̵t̴ ̴t̸o̸ ̵ f̶o̷l̷l̶o̶w̸ ̷m̶y̸ ̵e̵_e̵r̶y̷ ̵w̸o̷r̴d̷,̶ ̴w̴e̴ ̸b_t̴h̸ ̸w̵a̴n̷t̷ ̶f̴o̵r̶ ̴y̸o̴u̵ ̶t̴o̶ ̵g̶e̵t̵ ̵t̴o̶ ̵t̵h̶e̸ ̷s̸u̷r̵_r̴i̶s̷e̷,̵ ̷r̶i̸g̷h̵t̸,̶ ̵S̵t̸a̷n̶l̷e̶y̶ ̷d̶e̸a̵r̸?̷~̴”

Nodding with fake excitement, Stanley began to carefully take steps forward since the floor also was being eaten, with holes leading to the eternal void where the parable was situated. The computers’ screens shone with errors and random ciphers. Everything was breaking.

In the next room of cubicles, on their usual spot, shone the Bucket in the darkness, untouched by the infection, a beacon of hope. The sight made the man hurry to embrace his old friend, the metallic creature eagerly embracing him too, and reassuring him they were fine. The action generated no comment from the Narrator, thankfully, it had gone unnoticed or seen as unimportant, maybe it was still in the mind set they were still a nonsentient object.

The Bucket asked if he had a plan and he hugged them tighter against his chest and nodded slightly, it was half-baked however it was all he had. They comforted him, assuring him it would work.

“S̵t̷_n̷l̷e̵y̵ ̶n̸e̷v̸e̸r̵ ̷h̴a̵d̷ ̴c̷o̴w̴o̷r̷k̸_r̴s̴ ̶t̴o̸ ̸b̴e̴g̵i̵n̷ ̸w̶i̵t̵h̴,̴ ̷t̶h̷e̴ ̶O̵f̵f̵i̵c̵e̶ ̸w̶_s̸ ̵o̶n̷l̸y̶ ̶f̶o̴r̵ ̴h̵i̸m̵ ̸a̸n̸d̴ ̷t̴h̷e̵ ̵N̵a̷r̸r̷a̸t̴_r̸.̸ ̴N̸o̶ ̴o̶n̵e̶ ̸t̴o̴ ̶t̷a̸k̶e̵ ̸f̸r̴_m̴ ̵e̷a̵c̷h̷ ̷o̷t̴h̴e̷r̴.̶"

The collision was still active, the Bucket told him as they saw Stanley hesitate next to a big hole in the hallway, he wouldn’t fall.

“H̸_v̸e̵ ̴I̶ ̴e̶v̴e̸r̵ ̸t̶o̴l̵d̸ ̷y̶o̵u̵ ̴h̶o̵w̵ ̷m̴_c̵h̷ ̵I̸ ̷l̴o̶v̷e̵ ̵y̶o̵u̸?̴ ̴Y̷o̶u̷ ̵a̴r̷e̶ ̶s̸o̵ ̶p̵r̸_c̸i̶o̴u̷s̵ ̷t̷o̴ ̵m̵e̴,̶ ̴m̶y̶ ̸l̴i̴t̴t̵l̷e̷ ̴c̶r̷e̸a̴t̸i̴o̴n̵…̵” it seemed to be monologuing not really looking for an answer “W̷i̸t̶h̵o̷u̴t̸ ̸y̷o̵u̸,̶ ̷h̶o̶w̵ ̸c̸o̸u̴l̸d̷ ̵I̶ ̴e̴x̴i̷s̶t̶?̶ ̸W̸i̶t̶h̶o̸_t̷ ̶m̵e̶,̵ ̵w̶h̵o̸ ̶w̴o̷u̴l̴d̷ ̴y̶_u̸ ̵b̸e̷,̵ ̸u̶h̸,̶ ̷m̵y̸ ̸d̴a̶r̷l̸i̶_g̵?̵” it growled, sounding so possessive “M̵i̸n̸e̶,̸ ̴m̶_n̶e̶,̶ ̷m̷i̴_e̸~̴” it spat as the avatar turned the corner like an only-child throwing a fit because they hated to share their toys, but stopped as they got to the next relevant stop on their journey.

Like always, Stanley found himself in front of the two doors. Now, he just needed to go through the left door–

“W̸h̷e̶n̴,̸ ̵m̷y̶ ̶d̵a̴r̴l̴i̷n̷g̴ ̵S̴t̴a̵n̷l̶e̸y̵,̵ ̸c̵a̸m̴e̴ ̶t̸o̸ ̶a̶ ̸s̵e̷t̴ ̶o̸f̷ ̵t̵w̸o̷ ̴o̵p̵e̸n̴ ̴d̵o̸o̴r̶s̴,̶ ̶h̷e̷ ̵e̵n̸t̴e̸r̸e̷d̵ ̴t̷h̸e̶ ̸d̷o̵o̵r̷ ̶o̵n̶ ̷h̵i̶s̸ ̶r̴i̷g̷h̵t̷ .̷” even with the distortion, the entity had an audible smug smirk.

The vessel’s eyes widen with horror and surprise. That was not good. Not at all. Shit. Stanley didn’t want to begin running right now. Shit. Breathe and think. Think!

The Narrator laughed with self-satisfaction, it was expecting that surprised reaction from him.

“O̸h̸,̷ ̴I̴ ̶k̴n̶_w̷,̶ ̵d̵e̴a̵r̴!̸~̶ ̸I̶s̶n̶’̸t̵ ̶t̷h̴i̴s̴ ̸e̷x̷c̶i̷t̵_n̸g̶?̸!̸~̵” it beamed with delight “N̸_w̸,̷ ̷I̴ ̷k̵n̷o̵w̵ ̵t̵h̶a̶t̴ ̶y̶o̸u̷ ̶l̷o̴v̴e̸ ̵t̵o̵ ̷g̴o̷ ̴a̴g̶_i̶n̸s̸t̵ ̶m̴y̷ ̶n̷a̸r̶r̷_t̸i̶o̷n̵,̸ ̶a̴n̷d̵ ̷a̷s̷ ̷m̵u̶c̷h̵ ̶a̶s̵ ̸I̶ ̸l̵o̷v̸e̴ ̵i̸t̸ ̸w̵h̵_n̶ ̵y̶o̴u̷ ̴a̶r̵e̷ ̸a̶ ̶b̵r̷a̸t̵,̷ ̴I̷ ̸w̸o̶u̷l̵d̵ ̵a̶d̵v̷i̸s̷e̵ ̷y̶o̵u̵ ̸t̴o̴ ̷g̴o̴ ̴t̸h̷r_o̵u̵g̶h̸ ̶t̴h̵e̸ ̶r̵i̶g̸h̵t̵ ̵d̴o̷o̶r̴~̴ ”

A terrified mind raced to find a way out as he slowly stepped forward. He needed to get to the Museum. Shit. Think, think, THI– Ah ha!

It was awkward to sign with the Bucket but he did it anyway. What if I want to do the Freedom Ending, Narrator? He signed making sure and clear he used its name-sign, the sign for N together with the sign of Story. The entity had never seen it before, he was sure. It was worth a try.

The being made an inquisitive glitched noise “W̵_a̷t̸ ̷w̷a̷s̶ ̸t̵h̷a̸t̴ ̵l̵a̸s̶t̵ ̵s̸i̵g̸n̵,̴ ̴d̵e̴a̴r̸?̴ ̶I̵ ̴h̵a̶_e̴n̵’̷t̶ ̶s̷e̵e̵n̴ ̴i̶t̶ ̷b̷e̷_o̴r̸e̷…̸” good, he got its attention “C̴o̸_l̷d̸ ̷y̷o̴u̶ ̸d̴o̴ ̵i̵t̴ ̴a̴g̷a̴_n̵?̵” so he did “N̸…̵?̴S̷t̴o̸r̷y̵.̴.̶?̷–̵” it gasped, finally getting it “I̶s̸–̶ ̷i̶s̵ ̶t̸h̴a̴t̵ ̵a̷ ̵n̴_m̵e̶-̸s̵i̴g̶n̵?̷!̶ ̸F̷o̵_ ̵m̴e̵?̴!̴ ̷M̷-̷m̴y̷ ̸n̸a̶m̶e̶-̷s̶i̴_n̶?̷” it asked unsure but extremely hopeful and squeaked when Stanely nodded and he couldn’t help but smile at little because, Gods, how cute was its reaction. If it only this was his Narrator.

“O̴h̸,̶ ̴S̷t̴a̸_l̷e̸y̸…̷” the was so much obvious emotion in its voice, the entity was feeling giddy, and he was sure if it had blood it would be blushing furiously, this made the man instantly him feel bad for using something so dear to him to manipulate the only one he loved. The Bucket tried to reassure him that it was necessary, they had to get away. The other will forgive him when it sees reason, they told him. The Narrator giggled dreamily to itself “O̸h̴,̴m̶y̶~̶ ̵H̸o̷w̸-̶h̷_w̵ ̷c̷o̸u̵l̸d̶ ̷I̸ ̵r̸e̶_u̸s̶e̸ ̵t̸h̵a̶t̸ ̷w̴_s̶h̴ ̸a̶f̷t̵e̷r̷ ̶t̸h̶a̶t̵?̵!̴” it exclaimed “I̷ ̵w̵o̴u̶_d̶ ̷b̶e̴ ̴v̶e̴r̸y̸ ̶h̴a̵_p̷y̵ ̷t̶o̸ ̸g̷o̸ ̵t̸h̴r̵_u̸g̵h̷ ̵t̸h̵e̶ ̶F̵r̴e̵_d̷o̵m̶ ̵E̸n̸d̴i̸n̸g̸ ̵w̵i̶t̴h̵ ̶y̴o̶u̸~̴”

Stanley smiled at the defective ceiling, at it. The cleaning-throat sound effect played.

“W̶_e̵n̸,̸ ̸m̶y̸ ̷d̷a̵r̵l̵i̶n̴g̴ ̵S̸t̷a̵_l̸e̵y̶,̴ ̷c̵a̴m̴e̸ ̶t̵o̸ ̸a̷ ̷s̷e̷t̵ ̷o̴f̶ ̶t̴w̸o̸ ̴o̵p̶e̷n̴ ̶d̴o̸o̴r̸s̴,̷ ̷h̴e̴ ̶e̶_t̴e̶r̸e̷d̵ ̴t̶h̴e̴ ̷d̸o̸o̶r̵ ̴o̶n̶ ̷h̷i̶s̶ ̷l̶_f̴t̴.̴”

Relief filled the duo as Stanley stepped through the left door.

----

Transcript:

“Okay, Stanley dear. Let’s start this again.”

"Try to follow the script this time, alright, darling?~"

“This is a story of an amazing man named Stanley~”

“ –did every day of every month–”

“So with a smile, he got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.”

“Oh! Someone is eager!~”

“Now, go on, love, to our favorie doors! And,”

”Don’t forget to follow my every word , we both want for you to get to the surprise, right, Stanley dear?~”

“Stanley never had coworkers to begin with, the Office was only for him and the Narrator. No one to take from each other.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you? You are so precious to me, my little creation…”

“Without you, how could I exist? Without me, who would you be, uh, my darling?”

“Mine, mine, mine!”

“When, my darling Stanley, came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his right.”

“Oh, I know, dear!~ Isn’t this exciting?!~”

“Now, I know that you love to go against my narration, and as much as I love it when you are a brat, I would advise you to go through the right door~ ”

“What was that last sign, dear? I haven’t seen it before…”

“Could you do it again?”

“N…?Story..?–”

“Is– is that a name-sign?! For me?! M-my name-sign?”

“Oh, Stanley…”

“Oh,my~ How-how could I refuse that wish after that?!”

“I would be very happy to go through the Freedom Ending with you~”

“When, my darling Stanley, came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.“

----

Notes:

Hey there, my darlings! (◍>ᴗ<)ﾉｼ

I missed you all too

My life went to shit for some time (and not the shit that makes you inspired, unfortunately) so I had a massive creative block since then

But here I am again, back to you, my dearest. ( ᐢ˙꒳˙ᐢ )

You can thank the DDos attack on ao3 (and consequently it being down) for getting me to return to writing this fic, due to boredom and fear of spiraling from fanfiction abstinence.

A surprise Timekeeper appearance! And the Bucket too! So happy to see them here! More characters to torture~ o(*>ω<*)o

I'm almost finished with Chapter 6's draft as I write these notes, so I hope it will be posted in three weeks or so but as always, no promises.

I never expected this fic to be more than 3 chapters long but now here we are…

Thankfully, I already know how this is going to go and then end! I won't say much to not spoil it for you all (´⊙ω⊙`) but let's say…

It will be for all tastes and hopes~

Thank you for your comments and kudos, you know how much I appreciate them.

You are all my dears and I love y'all! (*´∀`)~

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