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#thank you everyone for all your comments on my previous pieces
krakenfly · 1 year
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I I   -   T h e    H i g h   P r i e s t e s s
The next bug in my series of tarot designs, this is based on a hooded mantis
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sebscore · 1 year
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gen z!reader is this sweet, bubbly, bright ray of sunshine who could honestly do no wrong, so I'd love to see a fic where in a driver's meeting gen z!reader loses their shit and calls out the FIA for their blatant sexism and misogyny in front of everyone and everyone is shocked cause they've never seen them gets this mad before.
NO ONE LIKES A MAD WOMAN
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pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (+ cameos from brundle, susie and buxton) 
warnings: sexism. fia is fia'ing. swearing. my own unaccurate ruling of penalties (it's for the sake of the story, just go along with it). susie mothering. it wasn't sure to me who conducted the driver's briefing during this time so I just picked a random name from the many that I came across. 
author's note: less comedic one this time, hope you enjoy it anyway! 
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''Alright, thanks for clarifying, Checo.'' Derek concluded, glancing down at his journal to see what the next topic of discussion was. 
The director scratched his voice before addressing the drivers again. ''Uhm, we also wanted to remind everyone to be wary of what they say in the media regarding our organization,'' he stated, ''the FIA has the feeling that there have been deliberate attacks on them the last few weeks and they are willing to give out penalties if it happens again.'' 
The drivers looked at each other, confused by the sudden declaration that the FIA has been receiving ''attacks'' from the drivers. ''Can you give an example, because I think I speak for everyone when I say that I'm confused.'' George spoke up, the others nodding along to his question. 
Derek flipped through his papers, trying to find the notes his colleagues had given him regarding the ''offensive'' comments that had been made against them. 
''Oh, here,'' he put on his reading glasses, holding the piece of paper farther from his face, ''the comment they're referring to was one made by… Y/N at the previous race.'' 
The young woman's head sprung up at the mention of her name, clueless as to how she could have upset the FIA. ''What? W-what did I say?'' She managed to stutter out, all the eyes on her making her feel uneasy. 
''Uh, you were asked about the diversity in the sport and you said, and I quote: 'The FIA should do more regarding women in motorsport, there are still many things that need to be changed.' End quote.'' Derek answered her, putting his paper back in place. 
Y/N frowned at the man. ''I don't see what's wrong with that, to be honest.'' She told him, failing to see how the FIA would feel this was a ''deliberate attack''. 
The director sighed, already getting the suspicion the woman would not be happy with what he was about to say. ''Certain members of the board were offended by your words, because they saw it as you accusing them of being sexist.'' 
The silence in the room was deafening, every single person awaiting Y/N's reaction to Derek's clarification. The drivers took a glimpse at her, trying to read the indifferent expression on her face that didn't give much away about how she was feeling. 
''They think I'm accusing them of being sexist? What I meant was that they should take more actions in encouraging young girls to get into racing- I don't understand how that would correlate to me calling them sexist.'' Her usual cheerful tone was replaced by a monotone voice that almost scared some of her colleagues. 
Derek took a deep breath again. ''Well, they felt like you were insinuating it and they are offended by the alleged insinuation.'' 
''Just because they are offended doesn't mean they're right.'' She bit back, not missing a beat. 
''I'm simply delivering their message, Y/N,'' the director told her politely, wanting to remind her that he's not the person she should be upset with, ''anyway- if you go up there and apologize for your comment, they're considering leaving it as a warning for you and also the others.'' He finished the list of notes they had given him. 
The reaction from the room wasn't one he was expecting; absolute outrage. 
''She shouldn't apologize for that neither should she be penalized for it.'' Sebastian was the first one to speak up, directly looking Derek in the eye. 
The drivers agreed. ''Yeah, it's called freedom of speech.'' Max added, also not seeing why Y/N should go down there and say sorry to the members of the board. 
''Like I said earlier, I'm simply delivering their message.'' Derek repeated himself, feeling the tension and frustration growing in the small space. 
''But don't you see how ridiculous this is?'' Sebastian rebutted, hoping the man at the front could at least agree with them and say that it was indeed a weird request. 
Derek shook his head. ''I'm just the middle man, Seb,'' he sighed, turning his head towards the quiet female driver, ''Y/N, make it easier for yourself and go up there after the meeting, you don't want to receive a penalty for something like this.'' 
''I'm not apologizing.'' Her voice comes out strong, not in an aggressive way, but in a manner that lets everyone know she's not backing down. ''Give me as many penalties as you want, I'm not accepting them.'' She crossed her arms, indicating she was sticking to her words, almost stubbornly. 
The other drivers looked on proudly, glad she was standing by her belief and didn't give in simply because it would make everything ''easier''. Lewis gave her a nod, subtly letting her know he supported her and had her back. 
''Alright, then that will result in a fine of a number that is yet to be determined.'' Derek picked up his pen and wrote down that she would not come by their office, already knowing his colleagues wouldn't be happy with it. 
''Just so you know- I'm not paying that.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly. 
Derek looked up from his journal. ''If you refuse to pay the fine, we can either add a grid-place penalty or a time penalty.'' He recited the rule as if he had done it a million times before. 
''Derek, this is stupid,'' Kimi decided to voice his opinion, ''the race shouldn't be affected, because of a comment she made that had nothing to do with racing in the first place.'' He defended her, allying behind her stance to not accept any of the penalties they give her. 
''I'm just doing my job, Kimi.'' 
''I also want to just do my job, Derek, which is racing, but these ridiculous rules to silence me prevent me from doing that.'' Y/N argued his response, just wanting him to see her point of view. 
The director's hand went over his face, seemingly wiping his agitation away. ''No one is trying to silence you, Y/N.'' He quickly answered. 
''That's why all the other drivers receive penalties whenever they question the FIA, right?'' Her comment must have shut him up as he solely put his pen down without saying another word about the matter. ''Yeah, that's what I thought.'' 
Y/N felt her presence wasn't longer necessary as she stood up from her chair, ready to leave the room and join her engineering team in preparation for the upcoming race. However, Derek felt different about that. ''The briefing isn't over yet, Y/L. Sit back down, please.'' 
''I'll see you at the next meeting, Derek.'' She ignored his plea and walked towards the door. 
The director stood up from his desk at the front. ''Y/N, if you leave before it's done, the board will-'' 
''The board can kiss my ass.'' 
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''Y/N Y/L RECEIVES A 20-PLACE GRID PENALTY AHEAD OF THE 2021 SPANISH GRAND PRIX DUE TO DAMAGING REMARKS AGAINST THE FIA'' 
''FIA RE-EVALUATING Y/N Y/N's PENALTY AFTER BACKLASH'' 
''FIA SUSPENDS GRID PENALTY OF Y/N Y/L DUE TO AN ERROR'' 
The day after the driver's briefing had been quite eventful to say the least. As soon as the FIA announced that she had been given a penalty, the backlash from drivers, fans and reporters started. 
Lewis had condemned their decision claiming it was based on nothing and that nothing about her comment was an attack on the organization. His teammate, Valtteri, followed him in his opinion stating: ''Drivers should be able to say what they want to say, she doesn't deserve a penalty for that.'' 
Sky Sports F1 reporter, Martin Brundle, also came to the driver's defense. ''If we're going to punish drivers for stating their opinions, we might as well get rid of the entire sport, especially if what they're saying isn't far from the truth.'' 
After finishing P5 in the race, Y/N spoke to Will Buxton in her post-race interview. ''You must be very happy with your result today, considering you almost had to start from the very back of the grid.'' 
''I'm content with today's race, obviously would have loved a podium but Mercedes was better today,'' she chuckled, ''yeah, it wasn't fun waking up to that news, but I'm happy that it was reversed and the support I received was just- wow, I'm very grateful for everyone.'' 
''According to some sources, it got pretty heated in the driver's briefing on friday- would you like to clarify?'' Will asked her. 
A sarcastic laugh left her mouth. ''I would just like to forget about it, moving on is the best thing to do right now.'' She smoothly avoided the question, figuring she shouldn't make the FIA more mad by airing out all their business. 
''Alright, thank you so much for talking to us, Y/N and congratulations on your race today.'' He nodded, bidding her goodbye. 
On her way back to her team's hospitality, she was stopped by none other than Susie Wolff. ''Lewis told us what happened during the briefing- I'm very proud of you for standing up for yourself, not everyone could have done that.'' 
''It was so awful, Susie,'' Y/N hugged the older woman, ''it's like they just wanted to give me some sort of punishment- I don't even want to know what would have happened if I went down there by myself.'' Susie rubs her back at her words, also not wanting to think about what could have gone down. 
''It's okay now, honey,'' they pulled apart, Susie's hand staying on her shoulder, ''by the way- did you really say that the board could kiss your ass?'' 
Y/N laughed at her question, excitedly nodding her head. ''At first I wanted to say something like 'the board can stick that penalty right up their ass’ but I needed a cool getaway so I opted for something shorter.'' 
''Atta girl'' 
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ja3yun · 3 months
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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.8
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brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, fingering, rose toy, multiple orgasms, confrontation, ynhee's mum (she's a warning all in herself), anything else lmk! ch. 8 synopsis: the weekend of nationals is finally here and there's a buzz in the air but of course, nothing can run as smoothly as you plan. sunghoon lets you in on minhee and his private conversation, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place. wc: 13.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i cannot believe melting point ends NEXT WEEK like wdym :( this chapter really explains everything you need to know about the story and everything w the mum so this is an important one <3 thank you all so much for the love. as always i really value your feedback/comments/likes/reblogs. nothing makes me happier than reading your theories and comments, thank you so much! pls enjoy.
Heaving your case, you start to wonder if you packed too much for the weekend. It’s not like you meant to cram in 6 different outfits, 3 pairs of shoes, and every piece of makeup you own - you just wanted to be extra prepared; that and you’re indecisive.
It’s finally Nationals weekend which means everything the boys have been working so hard for is here, only 2 days away. Technically, they should have been in Seoul already but you had a prelim exam today so they both waited for you to be finished before heading out.
The decision wasn’t your favourite, considering they’re missing parts of the press conferences and extra training but they assured you it was the easiest scapegoat out of travelling with the coaches and answering the usual ‘ideal type’ and ‘boyfriend’ questions that get thrown at them.
Considering they were top athletes, you would think the reporters would have more intelligent questions. Sunghoon had told you the last press event he did, the reporters just decided to try and ask him questions he knew would make him look arrogant and cocky with both women and on the ice.
It irks you how everyone has this preconceived perception about the man you love who would bend over backwards to make people happy. He says it doesn’t bother him and therefore it shouldn’t burden you but that's your man and he’s being slandered over news websites, it’s only right you get a little annoyed.
You can hear Sunghoon now as you think about it, telling you “at least I can back up my massive ego with a first place”, and he’s right, but it still doesn’t make you any more okay with it.
Presently, you’re walking down your campus path to the main road, on the way to meet both Minhee and Sunghoon. Somehow, you’ve managed to convince them to drive to the competition together. It took Minhee more convincing than Sunghoon, his biggest objection being you and your boyfriend all over one another.
There’s a mastermind plan to your reasoning; you want them to get along and forcing them in a close proximity for more than 3 hours seems like the best way to do it. Well, you’ve convinced yourself it’s the best way. Plus, you can try and pry out of them what they were talking about the other day in the coach’s office.
Looking ahead, you see Sunghoon and Minhee talking, or rather bickering about something. 
This might be harder than you thought.
“You are NOT driving my baby, she doesn’t need your hands all over her,” you hear Sunghoon say, arms crossed in defence.
“Come on, man! It’s a 3-hour drive and you look tired. I’ll take the wheel and you go for a sleep in the back,” Minhee retorts, pleased with himself for his reasoning; yet, Sunghoon doesn’t budge, adamant that your brother will never get the driver’s seat. 
It’s oddly refreshing to see them argue about something so trivial and not try to tear each other’s character down. They’re nipping at one another like friends do. You and Rina have had your fair share of minisode arguments about throwaway things like this so seeing them do the same makes you smile.
However, you will stop it, just in case Sunghoon gets too riled up - you know how he can get when it comes to his car. You spilled the tiniest bit of your blueberry juice on the seat and he nearly crashed into the traffic light. He’s very dramatic and overly protective.
“Mini, if you drive, I’ll just make out with Hoon in the back the whole drive there,” you laugh.
Your boys turn around at the sudden sound of your voice, both wearing different expressions. Sunghoon’s face upturns into brightness as he sees you, his arms come undone, and his body visibly relaxes. He looks as handsome as ever with his hair styled and smart-casual outfit; grey-collared sweater with black pressed trousers.
Minhee on the other hand is disgusted at the thought of you climbing all over your boyfriend for hours on end. He’s wearing some jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket, it’s his typical choice but he suits it.
Taking your luggage, Sunghoon whispers a ‘hey’ into your lips as he kisses you tenderly. The display of affection only makes Minhee fake gag, “Suddenly, I don’t want to drive anymore,” your brother scoffs, yielding his earlier argument in trade for some peace from the love parade.
You let out a light laugh, moving from Sunghoon to hug Minhee, “You’ve made the right choice,” the airiness in your voice matches the contentment you feel as he hugs you, ruffling your hair in the process. 
While Sunghoon puts your case in the boot, grunting about how heavy it is, you take the opportunity to warn Minhee, “Please be nice to him, okay? I want you both to get along.” It’s a simple request but the seriousness in your eyes conveys everything Minhee has to know.
"I'll tolerate him," he pinches your cheek and offers you an understanding smile when he notices your harsh expression, "Okay, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour." He enters the car with hands raised in faux defence.
You knew he'd behave even before you warned him, but you had to do it since the temptation to fall back into habit might be too strong for both of them. That is why Minhee isn't the only one whom you are warning.
As you walk up to Sunghoon, he closes the trunk with a soft thud, "Can you try getting along with Mini today? It'd mean a lot to me if you guys could at least give friendship a shot," you gently suggest.
"I'll do my best to make us leave here best buddies," Sunghoon replies with fake enthusiasm, "But baby, I gotta tell you, the drive here wasn't great. Did you know he sticks his foot up on the seat? Made things pretty uncomfortable for my girl," he says, giving the car's rear a pat, still bothered by Minhee's lack of respect for the second most important girl in his life.
Your brother wasn’t always the best at reading a situation and considering it’s the first time he was in Sunghoon’s car, he should have been a little more gracious. But he’s Minhee, that’s just how he is.
“Did you tell him not to do it?” you ask, looking through the back window to see the back of your brother’s head.
“Obviously, he just ignored me,” Sunghoon feigns a pain in his heart, “It was tragic.”
His dramatic act earns him an eye roll and no reaction, “I will tell him if he does it.”
With the promises sealed up with one more kiss, you both clamber into your respective seats, ready for the long journey ahead.
The roads are busier than normal, a traffic jam on the motorway is going to add an extra 25 minutes to your time. You don’t mind it, given you're not the one driving, but Sunghoon is getting impatient, the fingers on his left hand tapping on the wheel while his right hand subconsciously grips your thigh, using you like his personal stress ball.
Minhee couldn’t be more relaxed, his body has somehow managed to lounge himself over the back seat, phone in his hand as he plays house flipper. 
“We should put on the radio or something, might make this go in faster,” you suggest, already reaching for the screen. None of them complain, too busy in their own worlds to notice. This car drive was supposed to bond them and so far the only conversation they have had was to text the coaches and let them know they would be late; hardly riveting.
The speakers quietly play the sound of Sza’s Kill Bill which has both of them bobbing their heads. Even just the addition of music has made the car feel less awkward. 
You don’t want to force them to be friends but you also want to say you tried to meld them together in some capacity. These two men are the most precious people in your life and if they don’t get along, your plan to hang out together will be foiled. Even worse, your secret scheme to have Sunghoon over for Christmas dinner would also be ruined. Christmas is already tense enough never mind adding in two people who can’t even speak to one another.
The next song that plays makes Minhee sit up sharply and you whip your head around to look at him.
Maybe it's the way she walked
Singing the song at each other, you and your brother showcase your sibling brain cells by belting out your joined karaoke song. It was unintentional and you don’t remember specifically how it happened, but one day One Direction’s Best Song Ever became the song you would sing together at every function, both of you staying up late to learn the dance and all the dialogue lines. Minhee swore blindly that he would make a better Liam/Leroy than you but you proved him wrong pretty quickly. 
The abrupt change in atmosphere jolts Sunghoon to look at you both wildly while you both sing loudly. He does note how Minhee can actually sing and you, well, you’ve got spirit. The smile on his face gradually gets bigger, the happiness between the siblings infecting him. 
And we danced all night to the best song ever
We knew every line, now I can't remember
He hasn’t seen you get this excited in a while, the pressure of keeping too many secrets from too many people had a weighted effect on you, yet, now that’s gone, you look as light as a feather, enjoying your life free of guilt and shame, a life where you have Minhee by your side and him on the other.
If it’s the last thing he does, he will make sure to become friends with Minhee by the end of the weekend. 
The makeshift choreo you and Minhee created for the verses comes back easily, both your arms flapping around the place, hairography and all the rest of it. The laughter filtering through Minhee’s singing makes you feel like you’re finally home.
Minhee extends a metaphorical microphone to Sunghoon, attempting to draw him into your shared joy. It's not a conscious effort, but rather a natural inclination to include him in this moment, making him feel like a part of the Kang family, even if just for a song. There was also a tiny bit of him hoping Sunghoon had the worst voice out of the three of you, giving him something to slag him about.
“Nope, sorry, I don’t sing,” Sunghoon protests, moving his focus to the ever-so-slowly moving traffic.
“Come on, Hoonie, you know the words! You already told me you were a Louis girl,” you chuckle, also holding out your pretend microphone to join Minhee.
With the Kang siblings eagerly awaiting his participation, Sunghoon relents, quietly joining in the singing. His voice isn’t loud, he’s cautiously singing the song with you and Minhee, letting you both take the lead on it. He appreciates the effort Minhee made to involve him but this is also clearly you and Minhee’s joint thing, he doesn’t want to intervene too much.
However, that’s not sitting with any of you, “Sunghoon put some chutzpah into it!” Minhee encourages.
Minhee is trying his best, the once subconscious act is now intended, he wants you to know he’s trying to get along with your boyfriend despite their past. You deserve that much.
There’s a glimmer of amusement in Sunghoon’s eyes as he gets sucked into the infectious energy of the moment and becomes more vocal. What neither you nor Minhee expects is for Sunghoon’s voice to be as good as it was. You had heard him sing maybe once in the shower but you weren’t paying attention, not like now. Now he has your full attention, leaving him and your brother to harmonise together.
As Niall's part comes on, Minhee playfully nudges your arm, signalling your turn to sing, a cue you eagerly follow. At that moment, the confines of the car seem to expand, enveloping you all in a bubble of pure bliss and laughter. It's something you want to etch into your memory, a snapshot of unfiltered happiness that you'll treasure forever.
The final lines of the song resonate through the air, and a sense of contentment settles over you all, transforming the cold winter morning outside into something warm and inviting, much like a spring day.
Minhee reaches over and pats Sunghoon on the shoulder, offering him a genuine compliment. "You've got a set of pipes on you, mate," he remarks, devoid of any tension, prompting a surprised look from you.
“Thanks, you’re not that bad of a singer either,” your boyfriend relays.
“Nah, it’s just singing next to her I sound like Adele or something,” Minhee pokes fun at you like always, clearly amusing Sunghoon because he just laughs and nods along. Honestly, if making some lighthearted jokes about your singing is the thing that makes them friends, you’ll allow it.
The rest of the car journey is now filled with chatter, mostly you and Minhee reminiscing about your upbringing, telling Sunghoon all the stories that embarrass one another while he drives you closer to the city. 
Sunghoon enjoys the way you two interact, it shows him why you were so determined not to hurt Minhee for all those months, putting aside your own happiness for him. Whenever competitions happened, he got to see you and Minhee’s relationship from the sidelines and that made him a little envious.
Ice skating has always been so lonely for him with no time to make friends with fellow skaters because his mum would be pulling him away to go home or keep him on the ice while everyone else went to get a sweet treat after training. His mum made him so lonely that she was the only one he could rely on.
That was until now. Jay and Jake were always there for him but it’s harder for them to understand since they aren’t in the sport directly, whereas you and Minhee both have grown up in the same gruelling surroundings as him. 
Sunghoon’s jealousy grew the more he saw Minhee, the loving sister, the nice coach, even a little less toxic of a mother, granted his opinions of her have wildly changed now that he knows everything. But even with that, Minhee seemed to have it all - he had everything Sunghoon wanted.
He would trade in every trophy for a little stability, for his dad to still be alive, to have someone devoted to him no matter what. That’s why when he saw you all those years ago, he knew you had to be in his life. 
The hatred he had towards your brother stemmed from his mother’s toxic whispers planting little nuggets of rumours and lies to make him hate Minhee, yet, as he looks at both of you now, he knows it wasn’t hatred, it was envy. And when Minhee said he couldn’t ask you out when he was a teenager, it fuelled anger in him for hogging you.
Your love and kindness shouldn’t be confined to your brother.
But like you said the other day, Minhee was scared to lose you and Sunghoon understood that feeling all too well now.
Enclosing your hand in his, Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours, longing for contact after his brain even thought about you not being with him, even for a second. 
You twist your neck to look at Sunghoon, fondly smiling at him. Watching his eyes shake, you know he’s thinking about something that requires your touch; he always did this, no matter the issue big or small, like having you there was enough for him to brush through the knots in his brain and sort it out. 
It felt so amazing to be so needed and loved like this.
Minhee interrupts the silent show of love and points out the windshield, “Looks like they know we’re coming,” he sighs as reporters hover outside the hotel entrance, cameras hanging at their sides while they chat about nothing. 
Sunghoon and Minhee are used to this but today is the day they’ll make a spectacle over them. For the first time in history, the two rivals are arriving together and not just that, they’re both a day late. It’s the perfect opportunity for them to sniff around and fabricate some sort of story, you’re just scared of what.
Pulling up to the front of the hotel, the reports poise their camera to get the money shot, they don’t know they’re in for a goldmine,
“Remember, head down, no comments, and just get in there,” Sunghoon instructs, earning a scoff from your brother.
“Nah, you can do that, I’m the pleasant prince, I pander to my audience,” Minhee smiles proudly.
This is where they differ in so many ways, how their brands set them apart. You have to say, you’re surprised Minhee is keeping the Princess Diana brand your mum created considering he hates it so much. Then again, it has created more opportunities for him regarding public events and ads.
Your mum was a witch but she knew what she was doing.
It does pose the big question: where is Mum? Is she already here? There has been zero communication between both of you since the phone audio incident, it was sickening to look at her for too long, not that she was home a lot of the time anyway. 
However, right now isn’t about her.
“I think Sunghoon might be right, Mini. They’ll hound you about why you and Hoonie are together,” you put forward, hoping he sees your point. But Minhee is Minhee, he loves being in the spotlight.
“It’s all good, Bubs. I got this,” Minhee pats your head, trying to bounce some reassurance into your brain.
Sunghoon is quick to jump in, “No. Minhee, you keep Y/N safe. There’s no way they won’t push and shove for a picture and if one of them touches her I swear to god, Minhee, it’ll be your head on the hotel pole,” his voice is strong and shoulders are wide and sturdy as he speaks.
You suppress the urge to bite your lip as Sunghoon talks, trying not to give away how much his protectiveness turns you on, although, as much as you’re trying to focus your face on staying neutral, your pussy is meowing out for him, the pants you're wearing sticking to you a little.
“Don’t tell me how to protect my sister, okay, I’ve been with her my whole life, you’ve only got a couple of months under your belt,” Minhee retorts, tone annoyed at the accusation that he would do anything other than put your safety first.
If there was one thing that would make them argue, it’s over you. 
“Guys, let's just focus on getting into the lobby, okay? No pandering, and no punching,” you point to them for their retrospective warnings. You seem to be intimidating enough because they fall back from their tense gazes and start to unbuckle their seatbelts.
When you step out, the cameras click rapidly, a few flashes getting in your eyes which Minhee’s hand reaches over to protect you from, one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other covering your eyes. The shutters are more intense once they see Sunghoon coming around from the other side of the car.
A few gasps and ‘whoas’ can be heard as your boyfriend catches up to you both. As soon as that happens, all hell breaks loose.
Sunghoon! Are you finally changing your ways?
Minhee, did you steer Sunghoon away from his reckless life?
I’d watch out, Minhee, Sunghoon might be after your little sister next.
The last one creates tension between the boys on either side of you, as soon as you’re mentioned they both want to physically leap over and slap the journalist silly. You don’t like the inclination either, the idea that Sunghoon would just use you for his own gratification. 
Did the reporter say it outright like that? No, but all three of you knew that’s what he meant.
Minhee gracefully bows and smiles as he leads you through the reporters, thanking the ones who respected your need for space.
Sunghoon, on the other hand, remains cold, his look as frosty as usual, displaying little tolerance for the paparazzi's intrusive behaviour. Despite his apparent displeasure, he followed his own advice: keep a low profile and push ahead.
Once the chaos subsides, Minhee gently withdraws from your side, placing a comforting hand between your shoulder blades as he guides you further into the foyer. The interior wasn’t anything fancy; adorned with beige walls, plush couches occupied by guests, and a reception desk manned by two staff.
“Are you alright?” Minhee’s concern was palpable as he peered into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort or vision loss. The flashes were extra bright today.
You shake your head, offering reassurance, “I’m fine, it wasn’t too bad, certainly could have been worse.”
The hotel staff promptly retrieves your luggage from the car, each of your party expressing gratitude. Minhee also hands them a tip, slipping in a signature wink as he did so. 
Sunghoon huffs beside you, stroking the back of your head, “Fucking ridiculous. They’re acting like they haven’t seen us before,” he states, the patting of your head getting rougher the more he thinks about it, “Heard one of them call us Blades of Glory.”
Minhee lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hands in amusement. The other boy didn’t find anything funny about the situation.
The receptionist checks you all in, a room for you and Minhee, and a room for Sunghoon. He had a double room to himself since his mum wasn’t coming.
One thing Sunghoon refuses to speak about is his relationship with his mum, as far as you’re concerned, they haven’t spoken since the argument a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes when you look at your boyfriend when he is training, you wish he had her there. He assures you it’s for the best but you do mourn it a little, hoping they could patch up their relationship and start anew with him as her son, and her as his mother; no manager roles and athlete, just family love.
Sunghoon isn’t so sympathetic to the situation. Sure, he misses having her around but that’s just because it’s a habit, plus, she was his manager and having to navigate everything on his own was becoming overwhelming, but he’ll manage.
Sadly, he doesn’t even miss her as a mother figure.
Luckily, you’re all on the same floor just 4 doors apart. Once you reach your respective rooms, you kiss Sunghoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. His hands run up your back, accidentally picking up your jacket and t-shirt in the process, the feeling of his fingertips leaving a warm trail in their absence.
Sunghoon smiles into the kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you. He could do this all day, and some days he has, but this time you have your brother impatiently waiting for you both to untangle yourselves.
“Enough, that’s disgusting,” he retches, fake poking a finger down his throat, “Are you guys always like this or is it your attempt at torturing me?” 
Pecking Sunghoon’s lips one more time, you plant your feet back on the ground and face Minhee, “You’re so dramatic. I can kiss my boyfriend whenever I want to,” you sarkily reply.
“Not in front of me you can’t,” he mumbles, face holding an expression of disdain for you and your boyfriend's PDA. He doesn’t protest further, instead unlocking your room and waiting for you to get inside.
Hugging you from the back, Sunghoon leans down, “Come to my room tonight? And the night after, and the night after,” between each request, he kisses your neck, each one lingering a little longer than the last.
The butterflies in your tummy never settle when he’s around and the love in your heart only gets stronger, “I’ll pop in tonight but I promised Minhee I would spend the night before Nationals with him, it’s kind of a thing we have.”
Before every big competition, you and your brother pick a TV show, grab a few face masks and play smash or pass with the cast. You came up with it randomly one night and it stuck ever since, helping him to relax and you to eye up whatever Song Kang drama you manage to persuade him to watch with you. 
Nodding, Sunghoon smiles, spinning you to face him, “Sure, makes sense you guys would have a ritual or whatever,” there’s a tiny hint of sadness in his voice which throws you a little.
“I can ask Minhee to swap it to tonight?” you propose but Sunghoon shakes his head quickly.
“No, no. Do your sibling stuff-”
“You’re welcome to come,” Minhee’s voice interjects behind you. It’s strange how quickly Minhee is accepting Sunghoon into your routines and quirks; first it was the song in the car and now this, “You don’t have to but it would suck for you to be on your own the night before a competition.”
You want to ask what happened to your brother and why a clone has taken over his body, but this is exactly what you wanted, so why fight it?
“I don’t know, seems like your thing, I don’t want to just jump into it,” Sunghoon scratches the back of his hand, a habit he has when he’s nervous. In this instance, it’s cute.
“If I’m inviting you, it’s not you ‘jumping in’ is it? Plus, you get to see your precious girl drool over other men right in front of you,” you nudge your brother's stomach with your elbow before explaining to Sunghoon your plans and that you absolutely do NOT fawn over other men.
Everyone knows it’s a lie.
“Then yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Minhee,” Sunghoon is genuinely appreciative of the offer. He’s never had anyone to do things like this with, usually opting to just rest up and force himself to sleep early.
Minhee nods, “Great, just don’t be all kissy and touchy, it’s gross.”
A ping hits Minhee’s phone and as he reads the message, his once relaxed face turns tense, “It’s mum. Wants to take us out for dinner after the press conference,” he doesn’t bother replying, locking his mobile and stuffing it back in his jean pocket.
You don’t want to go to dinner with her, or even see her. Truthfully, you hoped she just wouldn’t turn up, “Do we have to go?” 
The pout on your face is exaggerated, your eyes pleading with Minhee to say fuck it and not go, however, he doesn’t give in to you, “I suppose.”
Looking at Sunghoon, they do that stare again, the same one when they came out from their secret conversation at Belmore. They nod to one another, making you even more confused.
Before you can pipe up and ask, Sunghoon gives you one more kiss, “I’ll see you later, baby,” and with that, he retreats to his hotel room. Your boyfriend was probably your best chance at getting information, Minhee is too strong and wouldn’t slip up as easily, so you leave it to rest, hoping that it’s nothing too serious.
One thing is for certain, you know it’s about your mum.
_____
“Can we steal the soap?” Minhee pops his head around the bathroom door, eyes gleaming with mischief.
You and Minhee are resting up after the press conference. All in all, the reporters asked straightforward enough questions, intrigued by Minhee's secret routine and the promised 'surprise' he hinted at. Of course, you've witnessed the routine firsthand and are eagerly anticipating everyone else to experience it with the same amount of awe as you did.
To your surprise, there were just two questions concerning Sunghoon: one asked whether Minhee and Sunghoon were now friends, and the other asked if Minhee was afraid of his rival. Minhee's reaction to both was a solid 'no', however you think the first answer might change.
You sit up on your bed, rolling your eyes in dismissal of your brother’s question, “No, Mini, we can’t steal the soap.” The one thing about Minhee was that he loved a freebee, and you too honestly but you draw the line on bath soaps that you know no one will use and just collect dust in your toilet back home.
“But if I put it in my case and hide these ones, the staff will need to give us replacements,” he says, showing you the tiny bottle of liquid soap as a way to entice you to agree with him.
"Let me guess, then you'll swipe those too?" you retort, crossing your arms.
Minhee nods eagerly. "Of course!" he says it with such conviction, as if you're missing out on a golden opportunity for more soap.
As you get up, you snatch the bottle from his hand and head to return it to its rightful spot. "I'll just buy you some soap, alright? Let's leave these here. If there's any left, we'll take it home." Sometimes, you feel like you take over the role of your mother when you have these talks with Minhee.
"Fine," he grumbles, flopping onto the mattress. "I'll just ask Sunghoon to swipe me some then."
You whip around at the mention of your boyfriend's name, watching as Minhee starts tapping away on his phone. It's like entering the twilight zone.
"You guys text now?" you ask incredulously, eyebrows raised
“Only for important things,” he mumbles, too busy planning a scheme to get Sunghoon on board with his ideas. 
You try to imagine in what world hotel soap is important.
If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that your brother and boyfriend were actually getting along, and not just that, that most of the initiation was from Minhee, you would have cackled in your face. There was no chance in hell of that happening, yet, there is it. All those months of worrying about both of them, the arguments, the fighting, the hatred, all washed away so quickly. 
Sunghoon and Minhee aren’t best friends, they tolerate one another; that’s what they are telling themselves at least. Your brother asked for Sunghoon’s number after the conference to ‘keep an eye on him’ but you knew better than that.
Minhee wanted to be his friend because he knew if he did, you would be happy. Everything in his life, he does for you.
A ping sounds from his phone, and a wicked smile spreads across his face, “Ha! See, your boy is on board!” he shows you the text message from Sunghoon which reads ‘If you get the soap, I’ll grab the shampoo and conditioner. We go halfsies?’
“You’re both ridiculous,” you quip, pushing Minhee’s phone away from you. 
You can’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you watch Minhee laugh at his phone, the friendship between them both blossoming in front of your very eyes.
A loud knock on the door startles you both, your hand reaching for your chest at the fright. Was it really necessary for someone to bang the door so ferociously at 5pm, especially when the hotel rooms are already small, echoing the vibrations around the walls?
Minhee stands up, making his way to answer rudely to the person on the other side for almost giving him a heart attack; however, when he opens the door, the last person on earth you want to see barges through your door.
“Ugh, can you believe they’ve put me in a room on the other side of the hotel away from you? Took me 10 minutes just to get here,” your mum huffs, blowing her fringe out of her flushed face. She looks like she’s just run the London Marathon, not walked across a lobby and rode the lift.
It’s amazing how one woman can change the atmosphere of the room. The once happy and carefree vibe you and Minhee were basking in has now been sucked out, replaced with a heavy cloud of anguish.
There’s an anxiety creeping up into your chest as you face your mum for the first time since that day. You were unequipped to handle the situation because of her sudden presence, thinking you would at least have a few hours before she requested you for dinner. 
But she’s here, right now, and you have to face this head-on. 
She clasps her hands together and spins to face Minhee and yourself, “I have news,” she exclaims, delighted with whatever information she is about to share.
A quick glance at Minhee and you both share the same sceptical expression. He steps closer to you, hoping that you can find some comfort in his presence, which you do but this is also your conniving mother you’re both faced with, anything can fall past her lips, and that makes this ten times more nerve wracking.
“After Sunghoon pulled that god-awful scheme - so sorry, Y/N,” her words speak of condolences yet her tone is anything but sympathetic, “I have found something else.” The delight on her face makes you feel sick. You know Mrs. Park is the biggest cause for this rivalry, so why is she so intent on bringing Sunghoon down to the lowest pits of hell and back? 
You nor Minhee have told your mum that you know the audio of Sunghoon was AI-generated, or that you and Sunghoon are back to being as in love with each other as ever, in fact, she might have brought you closer together. Her little plan actually got you and Sunghoon to promise to be one hundred percent honest with each other, especially about your feelings for one another. 
Sunghoon meant it when he said he wanted to start fresh, a clean slate, but for him that just meant professing his love to you all over again, determined to make sure you never doubted his true intentions for you ever again. Of course, you did the same, telling him how you would trust him and your relationship before anything else because why on earth do you have any reason not to?
“What are you talking about?” Minhee is the first to speak between you, taking the lead as your bigger brother. He didn’t know what she had up her sleeve but he wouldn’t believe a spoken syllable that came from her mouth; not anymore.
Happily, your mother picks out her phone from her handbag and searches for something. There is a sickening feeling rising in your stomach again, the deja vu washing over you. Minhee senses your unease and rubs your back softly, and as you turn your attention to him, he shakes his head, assuring you that whatever you are going to see will be fabricated.
However, as she passes your brother the phone, you see a video waiting to load and see a familiar-looking lawn.
Oh no.
As Minhee hits play, you see Sunghoon’s fist connect with that boy's face, the same boy that touched you, the night you called him to come get you. The sickness that had stilled before has now reached the tip of your throat, your heart pounding outside your chest only making it boil more.
This is real, this isn’t fake.
The scene in the video is so strange because as you hear your cries for him to stop, you don’t remember it that well. You knew he punched fuck out of the guy but you hadn’t really visually recalled it in your memory, yet, it was like living the feeling all over again. 
Your brother watches the video with the same shock and horror as you do, except, he is more concerned by your shrieks in the background. When was this? He ponders to himself, confused as he continues to see Sunghoon beat the boy down. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Sunghoon killed him. Fuck, he genuinely might have as far as Minhee is concerned.
He recognises the boy in the video, having had a few altercations with Yeonjun and his team himself over the years, so he knows that whatever caused this ruthless beating, it was probably something bad.
“W-where did you get this?” you ask tentatively. If your mother has seen it, anyone could have.
With a glint of victory, she answers, “Facebook of all places! I was just scrolling and someone shared it,” she shrugs, leaving you to battle with the information that your boyfriend's attempt to protect you might be the very cause of his downfall. You recall something he said not too long ago,
“Everything wrong in my life seems to be because of your family.”
Sunghoon spoke those words and you knew they were true, yet, you hoped it excluded you, but this just proves you’re just as bad as your mother.
Minhee feels your distress beside him, your body shaking slightly as you continue to watch the video. He doesn’t know what happened or why but he knows you’re traumatised by it. He stops the video, locking the phone abruptly, “Mum, what does this have to do with anything? This is just a video of him punching that guy from the hockey team,” Minhee tries to downplay it, hoping and praying your mum hasn’t already done something drastic with the video.
“I’m taking it to the board, obviously. He can’t get away with causing violence,” your mum speaks. You take the time in the silence that surrounds the room to wonder if she would be so eager to share the video if she knew why Sunghoon was on his knees, beating the guy to a pulp.
Minhee shakes his head definitely, “No, mum, you’re not,” his voice wavers; this is the first time he has stood up to your mum in such a long time. Her claws were usually so deep into your brother that he stood back and took it, but not any more.
“Huh?” your mum asks perplexed, head tilted to the side in curiosity, “Don’t you see, Minhee, this is how we guarantee you the win, they might let him skate but nullify his points. Remember what we have on the line,” she tries to be secretive but you already know what she’s talking about.
“Stop! Just stop trying to interfere with this, with my skating, with the Parks. Just fucking stop.” The sudden rise in Minhee’s voice makes you jump but he is quick to rub your back again, trying to prove his determination to make this right, for all the times he let her puppeteer him into doing her dirt work.
He breathes out, “I told Y/N everything, and I told Sunghoon. We also know that the phone call was fake and that you’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a mother,” his voice is venomous, the words harshly leaving his mouth. 
Your mum is silent, not even her breath can be heard amidst Minhee’s speech, “You’ve done nothing but hurt us since dad left, constantly blaming me for putting you in debt, never acknowledging your daughter or any of her achievements. I won’t stand here and let you do this anymore.”
“But Minhee-”
“No, you listen to me. I will win on Saturday and when I do, take all the money you get from this shitty bet and fuck off out of our lives, understood?” You stare at the ground with wide eyes, scared to look up and see the anger in Minhee’s face, his voice being scary enough. 
It’s unlike your brother to get this angry, you thought the extent of his rage peaked when he confronted you about your relationship with Sunghoon. But this is much worse, more dangerous. 
Then again, this is also years of being told you owe your career and livelihood to someone who only uses it against you would also take its toll on you.
Sucking in a breath, your mum moves forward, “What are you talking about, baby boy. I’m your mother,” she tries to soften him up but it won’t work. He’s too far gone in his rage.
“No, you’re not. From this point on, you’re no one’s mum. When you get your winnings, take them and never speak to me or Y/N again. I am sick to the back teeth of you putting unnecessary pressure on me, getting me involved in all this mess with Sunghoon. Not to mention how you’ve been treating Y/N the past few months.”
“You can’t kick me out of my own family!” she protests, all acts of sorrow gone in a flash, replaced with fury. 
“I just have. I’m moving out, I’m taking Y/N with me, and this is the last you will see us,” Minhee’s chest is closing in on itself as he finally loses all cool, ready to give your mum everything that’s been waiting for her.
Exhaling, your mum yields, nodding disapprovingly, “You make sure I get my money. You brats deserve nothing considering the life I provided for you both.”
That last sentence confirmed everything you two already knew, it was always about the money. Part of you wonders if it was always about the money, or if that was just something at came along the way. For your peace of mind, you hope it’s the latter. 
Despite her ways, you like to believe she did love you guys at some point, and deep down still does.
The tension in the room is so thick, it’s choking you, causing you to clam up and stay silent. You want to say so much; how she never gave you both anything, that it was your dad who set you both up with your lives, how she took away your happiness and put the relationship with the love of your life in jeopardy. You wanted to shout and scream at her, but it was useless. She won’t listen, her face beat red.
Without uttering another word, she goes to leave the room, snatching her phone back, but Minhee isn’t done, “Oh, and don’t think for a second of showing that video to any of the skating board, or else I’ll turn myself in about Sunghoon’s skate and tell the police exactly what you’ve been up to.”
Both you and your mother exchange fearful glances – you, worried for Minhee's cherished career, and your mother, concerned about her potential loss of status and wealth.
Clicking her tongue in irritation, your mother scoffs, shaking her head. "You wouldn’t dare," she argues, trying to convince herself as much as her son.
"Try me. I have nothing left to lose," he retorts.
"You wouldn’t sacrifice your Olympic dreams," she counters smugly, believing she's won the argument.
"I would sacrifice anything for my sister's happiness, a concept you clearly can't grasp."
Your eyes fill with emotion as Minhee's words sink in. Could he really be prepared to give up his dream just to protect you from your mother? To safeguard you from any potential harm. As you lock eyes with your brother, a deep realisation sweeps over you: absolutely, he would.
Your mother walks out of the room in a disappointed huff, leaving behind a heavy atmosphere packed with unresolved tension. Left alone with Minhee, you both silently battle with the weight of the dramatic event that just took place, processing it all in your own way.
As the echoes of your mother's departure fade, a solemn stillness settles over the room, punctuated only by the sound of your shared breaths. You and Minhee exchange a wordless glance, each grappling with the weight of the confrontation that has unfolded.
“The video…you were there. What the fuck was that about?” Minhee questions, his voice not quite accusatory, but still webbed in anger. Honestly, you should have expected it, the bloody scene would be a cause of concern to anyone and after he just said he vowed to protect you, he wanted to know how this situation arose.
"It was a party, about three or four months ago, I think," you begin, weighing your words carefully as you try to gauge how much to reveal to Minhee. Your brother is already teetering on the edge of adrenaline-fueled rage, and recounting the details of Heosun's unwelcome advances towards you doesn't seem like the best idea in the current tense atmosphere.
Minhee listens attentively, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Go on," he prompts gently, sensing the weight of your hesitation.
Taking a deep breath, you continue, "There was this guy who wouldn't leave me alone, and Sunghoon came to pick me up, and well, you saw what happened." You lower your gaze, feeling a pang of shame at the memory of the chaos that ensued that night.
Now, with your mother's hands all over the incriminating video, you feel the weight of the burden resting heavily on your shoulders. If she were to show anyone that footage, it could spell the end of Sunghoon's career – all because of the consequences of your past decisions.
Despite Sunghoon's reassurances that none of it was your fault, the guilt gnaws at you relentlessly. It's one thing to hear those words, but it's another to truly believe them, especially in the face of such dire consequences.
Minhee can feel your body tremble and it softens his mood, his brotherly instincts taking charge over his anger. He pulls you in for a hug, scratching the back of your head to soothe your thoughts.
“I would say I’d kill that hockey player if I wasn’t convinced Sunghoon’s already taken care of it,” he chuckles at his attempt to lighten the mood, but your overthinking is taking hold of you, scared for what will happen. 
Knowing you your whole life, Minhee knows what your brain is doing right now, “Hey, you aren’t to blame for any of this. Heosun is the one to blame for trying to take advantage of you,” his fingers dig into your scalp as he says the crime out loud. He can’t stand that he wasn’t there for you during your time of need.
However, he is thankful Sunghoon was there.
He leans back to look at you, your eyes glazed over with thoughts. Patting your head, he tries to reason with your mind, “You can’t let mum’s manipulation make you feel responsible for all of this. Sunghoon is a grown man and he made his choices,” he sees his words infiltrating your doubt, like a soldier breaking down the gate to the castle, “He did what anyone would have done.”
You manage a weak smile, grateful for his support even as the guilt continues to run through you, "I know, but... what if I could have handled things differently?" you mumble, the weight of self-blame heavy in your voice.
Minhee shakes his head, his eyes filled with conviction, “Don’t do that, Bubs. You did everything you could, I believe that.”
His words provide a glimmer of consolation amidst the disarray of your thoughts. For a minute, you allow yourself to lean into his calming presence, drawing strength from your brother's support.
You both sit in silence for a while, needing to calm down from your emotions. The whole ordeal has led you away from a pivotal point in his conversation with your mum, something that you wanted to question.
“What if you don’t win?” you pull your head from his chest, looking up at him concerned. If he doesn’t win, there’s no knowing what your mum might do. She would lose far too much money just to let it slide, not to mention the vendetta she probably has against Minhee after his harsh words.
Calmly, he smiles, “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.” With a kiss on the top of your head, he releases you from his grip. It’s a clear indication that he doesn’t want to push this conversation any further.
But you can’t help but be concerned.
_____
Pressing your key card to the door, you walk in and instantly hear laughter coming from Minhee and Sunghoon. The sound fills you with a sense of relief, worried that your absence from the hotel room to grab some snacks from the shop down the street was enough time for them to start arguing and throwing punches.
You really should have had more faith in them, particularly after the car journey, yet, you still have a horrible feeling that settles inside your chest because it’s all going too perfectly.
Minhee is doubled over, face red from laughter while Sunghoon’s eyes are wide, an incredulous smile smacked across his features. It’s amazing how well they shine together when they don’t have their mothers putting the weight on their shoulders, forcing them into unhealthy competition.
“She padded it so much to impress you, it was hilarious!” you hear Minhee cackle as he speaks as you shut the door behind you. They haven’t noticed your presence, too caught up in the hilarity of their conversation.
Sunghoon lets out a ‘huh’ in realisation, “That’s what that was? I was so confused, I thought she had a reaction to something,” he chuckles, still processing whatever information Minhee was divulging. 
The atmosphere is light, making you smile widely as you walk further into the hotel room, “What are you guys talking about?” 
Turning to face you, both boys burst into another fit of laughter as soon as they see you. It makes you self-conscious, suddenly making you wish you checked yourself in the lift mirror before coming back.
Minhee wipes a tear from his eye before letting you in on their little secret, “I told him how you stuffed your bra with tissue paper trying to impress him,” he points his head to Sunghoon who is currently rolling on the bed in stitches.
The memory flashes in your mind as your face falls. You were young, foolish, and watched 13 going on 30 a little too much; it was a stupid idea. In your defence, a rumour was circulating that Sunghoon’s ideal type was someone like Irene from Red Velvet and she was so perfect you tried to look like her, stuffed bra and all.
You stand traumatised for a minute as you start to vividly recall the way your tissue boobs must have looked to everyone else, “Oh my…god! Can you guys shut up, I was like 12,” you groan hiding your face behind the bags of starburst and skittles.
“You didn’t even need a bra,” Minhee argues back, clearly enjoying the torment his story is providing you, “It’s my brotherly duty to tell your boyfriend all the embarrassing stories I have about you,” he’s smug, lips upturned in a grin.
Forcefully, you toss his sweets at his head, aiming for pain. But Minhee has fast reflexes and dodges it easily. Out of all the stories to tell, why did it have to be that one? Couldn’t it have been the one where you accidentally vomited all over him after he punched you too hard in the chest or that time you wrote a marriage proposal to Niall Horan and even set a date. Anything but the padded bra. 
Sunghoon is still laughing, also reminiscing about that day, however, he isn’t so embarrassed. To be honest, he didn’t pay much attention, and he certainly didn’t know it was to impress him. Knowing it now only gives him more reason to be completely in love with you because even at 12, you wanted to be with him so much you were willing to change for him.
But he never wants you to change. Not ever.
“I honestly can’t believe you thought that would impress me,” he starts to calm down, beaming up at you; however, he is just as guilty for laughing, so you throw the last packet of sweets at his head. He isn’t so used to avoiding flying objects and you hit him straight on his nose, “Okay, ow!” he winces dramatically.
Sometimes you forget Sunghoon is an only child and didn’t have the sibling reflex, “Shit, I’m sorry, Hoon,” you apologise, leaning down to assess the damage but before you get too close, Sunghoon bursts into laughter once again. Slapping his chest you sit next to him, disgruntled. 
Once he has composed himself, he sits up and pulls you into his side, kissing the top of your head, “Honestly, I think it’s kind of cute,” he whispers into your hair, trying to ease your brass neck. You can’t help but smile at his words, glad that he didn’t see you as some pathetic little girl.
You fail to understand that Sunghoon could never perceive you as anything other than perfect. Sure, no one actually is flawless, but you’re pretty close in his eyes; you’re perfect for him.
“Okay, I will stop telling stories if you guys stop acting so mushy,” Minhee relents, opening his packet of Skittles. 
Tilting your head up, you place a soft kiss on Sunghoon’s lips, just to add a little torment to your brother which works because he’s fake gagging on his bed. He’s so dramatic but you’ll take the teasing over him holding a grudge about your relationship.
“I love you,” Sunghoon whispers tenderly, his hand squeezing your soft side, “padded bra and all.”
“Shut up, oh my god,” you push him away playfully, trying to act annoyed but it doesn’t really work, you can’t stay angry at him for longer than a day - your entire relationship journey has proven that; even when you fight, big or small, you always find your way back to one another quickly. 
You don’t mean to think so seriously in such a lighthearted moment, but you can’t help but be thankful for everything that has transpired. There are times you want to start over completely, not lie to your brother, stick up to your mum, skip the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal and just be with one another completely. But in truth, it’s just made your relationship stronger, both of you releasing that there isn’t a day you both don’t want to be together.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Sweets?” he asks in a whisper, petting you with love. 
You shake your head, “Nothing, just happy. That’s all.” And it was the truth, you’ve never been more content with anything in your life.
Minhee clears his throat, “Guys, seriously. Glad you’re all in love but can we pick a show now?”
Sunghoon and you shuffle to sit on your bed, getting comfy as Minhee flicks through the TV section on Netflix and when you and your brother both see My Demon in recently added, you both turn to one another, smiling brightly.
Your boyfriend isn’t completely aware of your obsession with Song Kang, but he is about to find out.
_____
As the hours go by, face masks have been done and subsequently making the whole room smell of paella and vanilla, you begin to hear Minhee snoring on the other bed; you’re 5 episodes into My Demon and clearly, he has had enough. Fair enough, it is reaching midnight and he is up extremely early tomorrow, but so is Sunghoon and he is wide awake, not caring about his beauty sleep one bit.
In fact, he has started caressing your thigh a bit too close to a certain area. All night he’s found some way to touch you, either a hug, spooning you, or grazing his fingers over any skin that isn’t covered. Luckily for him, your shorts have ridden up just enough to leave the tops and inners of your thighs exposed.
You push his hand away, “Mini is right there,” you speak lowly, trying to caution him off but Sunghoon couldn’t care less, only tracing up further to your core.
“He’s sleeping,” he argues back as he spares a quick glance to a passed-out Minhee.
Honestly, he was so sick of you melting when Song Kang popped up on the TV, he’s not afraid to admit that he’s jealous. Every time you held in a squeal as the actor smiled or had his top off, he knew he had to get you back to reality, back to the time when all you saw was him. It was childish but he doesn’t bother to worry about that, knowing you like it when he’s a bit possessive and clingy.
You sit up straight to face him, eyes flashing in warning, “He could wake up,” you’re trying to reason with him but his face doesn’t show any sense of understanding of how badly this scenario could end. You’ll do a lot with Sunghoon but fucking him while your brother is in the room is a hard pass. He was insatiable, you always knew it, you just thought he had some decorum when it came to having sex in front of family.
Smirking, Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “With how loud you are, he probably would wake up.” Teasing you isn’t the best approach for getting what he wants, he sees that in your peeved expression, “Fine, how about we go to my hotel room?” he offers as a solution.
With his fingers now dancing along the top of your pussy, you quickly agree, already standing up and pulling him out of the room, making sure the door doesn’t slam shut. 
Once you both enter his room, he wastes no time, kissing you roughly like he has been wanting to do since you changed into your little pyjamas. The heat from his body is a telltale sign that he’s ready to just ravish you as soon as he gets you naked.
And that he does, stripping you of any material you have on and pushing you onto the bed. You’re a vision in front of him, some hickeys and bruises scattered over your body from the last time you had sex, which in Sunghoon’s mind, was far too long ago. 
With hungry eyes, you watch as he sheds his own clothing, revealing his arousal as he strokes himself slowly. Your breath catches in anticipation, craving the feel of him inside you, the throbbing intensity of his desire mirrored in you.
“I’ve got a surprise,” he says suddenly, licking his lips mischievously.
You lean on your elbows, confused by his words, “What kind of surprise?”
Holding a finger up, he  bends down to his suitcase, rummaging through it to find something, only making you more curious, “It’s in here somewhere,” he states more to himself than you, his smile widening as he comes across something, “There you are.”
As he stands back up, you look into his hand and your jaw hits the floor, “Where did you get that?”
Sunghoon stands proud as punch as he twirls the pink rose toy in his right hand, smiling at it happily, “I know a thing or two, Sweets.”
You had your own rose toy at home, literally more prized than the award you won a few months ago. It’s your saviour when you’re too stressed or just craving some release when Sunghoon isn’t readily available. You hadn’t told him about it, so you’re a little shocked he had one.
It also looked much better than yours so you’re going to have to sneak it into your bag before you all leave on Sunday.
Snaking his way to you, he shows you it up close, “Y’know, I used to think these toys were the enemy, taking away something from me,” he pauses, spitting on the top of it, rubbing his saliva into the creases of the rose petals, “But then I thought, it could really be an asset.”
Pressing the power button on, the machine starts to vibrate and suck in air, making you swallow dryly in anticipation. You knew how good it felt when you used it on your own so you can only imagine the power it holds in Sunghoon’s hands. 
Sleeking it to your folds, he wastes no time in pressing it directly on your clit, wiggling it around to make sure he has it on your sweet point. As you gasp and fall flat on the bed, he knows he’s found it.
Sunghoon knows how it works but this is admittedly his first time seeing it in action and by God was he glad he stumbled across it on Twitter. The way you’re already wriggling under its suck is causing his cock to jump straight up in arousal. This is such a nice change for him, to see how your tits move from side to side as your body responds to the sensation on your clit, your mouth falling open so beautifully as whimpers escape. Normally, he’s got a different view, his head buried where the rose toy is right now; he’ll need to find more ways to witness you from this angle.
“Hoon! It’s-” You don’t get to finish your sentence as he loosens the toy which only makes it suck your clit up harder. What you were going to say is that it’s already got you close, the mix of the vibration and everything else proving a bit too much. 
Typically, when you use the toy back home, it’s a 5-minute job, the flower living up to its hype, and now is no exception. But there’s something even more arousing about your boyfriend being in control of it all. If it got a little intense, you could normally pull it away of your own accord, but with Sunghoon in control, you don’t have that luxury; you need to power through the fire that is burning within your nub.
Seeing you close, he licks and bites his bottom lip, thinking of how he can take credit for some of this climax, rather than congratulations only being on the vibrating machine in his hand. He suddenly shoves three of his fingers into his mouth, gathering his spit onto them before brushing them along your hole. 
The rose already has you super wet so it’s easy for him to slide his digits right in, getting to work on finding your spongy spot, the very spot that he always curls into and gets you cumming. 
With the addition of Sunghoon’s fingers, your eyes roll to the back of your head, only the whites of your eyes visible. It’s intense and you’re going to cum so hard over his fingers you might genuinely be spent after this one orgasm.
Like a crash, you cry out his name, chanting a few swear words for punctuation as you cum. Your clit throbs and puffs out as you orgasm, only making the toy have more to suck and pulse onto. It’s like heaven and hell all came at once, not sure if the pleasure outdoes the pain or vice versa. To be fair, the pain isn’t excruciating, you just feel yourself being overstimulated by the rosebud and Sunghoon’s fingers which isn’t a bad thing, just takes some time to adjust.
Sunghoon’s fingers thrust into you fast, each time he drags it out, more of your essence is left on the hotel covers, painting them a darker shade of ivory. He thinks it’s a waste, how the bedsheets get to soak up your juices when it should be his tongue, but he can’t change up the pace now, your body speaking the words you can’t. You’re enjoying this far too much.
“Sunghoon, please!” you whine while your body instinctively tries to retreat from his touch to find relief. 
“You want something, baby?” he asks so innocently, his fingers still thrusting into you with velocity, “Use that pretty mouth of yours.”
He sits on his knees, looking down at you to wait for your response, one he knows will take all your strength to muster. You’re a sight to behold; eyes screwed shut as you try to work through the overstimulation yet your mouth breathing out loud moans. 
“Cock,” is the only word you can say, so drunk on the pleasure that you’re practically dumb in lust, not a thought in your brain other than getting fucked by Sunghoon’s thick cock.
He laughs lightly, shaking his head, “You want my cock?” your boyfriend’s ego is already big but when he gets you into bed, it increases tenfold. He adores that you want him and his body just as much as he wants yours.
“Fuck, yes, Hoonie, please,” you beg, trying to remove both his hands so he’ll just slip into you. 
“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he says huskily, his heart swelling in his chest with pride. 
However, what you want him to do is remove the toy with his fingers, which is clearly a pipe dream since the next thing that happens makes you scream. 
His fingers are replaced with his long cock, but he doesn’t remove the toy from your aching nub, rather, moving it even more directly over you, dancing it along with your body as you try to get away. He’s being so cruel to you, causing this torment of excessive stimulation.
Sunghoon doesn’t see it that way though, he knows when you finally relax and ride through the burning, you’ll be begging him to keep going. Also, with every thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, he gets a jolt of vibration hitting the end of his shaft, giving him a new sense of pleasure.
He hasn’t ever used toys on himself, his hand and you being all he needs, but he might just have to find a few new ways to incorporate some toys into the mix. Perhaps he can convince you to let him use a massager in the future.
Jackhammering into you, he throws his head back, getting lost in the feeling of your walls slamming down on him. Your body is busily thrashing beneath him, only giving the tip of his member new areas to get in amongst. 
“You feel so fucking good, Sweets,” he groans out, only going faster and deeper into you. The toy is an excellent companion, however, it’s limiting his horsepower, wishing he could just bend you in half and drive into you with no mercy. 
Finally, he takes the flower from your clit, and your body instantly relaxes. The cold air whisking over your hot pussy is like breathing in fresh air after being in a stuffy room for too long; it’s heaven. 
It doesn’t take Sunghoon long to find a new purpose for it though, placing it over one of your hardened nipples, “Hold that there for me, baby,” he asks, making sure that your nipple is full inside the hole of the toy. You feel the vibrating all the way up to your jaw, but you oblige, anything for him to fuck you like he always does.
Getting into a new position, he finds a new harsher rhythm, his pointed thrusts snapping into you with the purpose of getting you both off. Sunghoon’s entire body is rocking, the bed squeaking lousy under you both, only drowned out by the clusters of your moans.
Before you know it, you’re cumming again, this time, you think you’re going to squirt all over him, the feeling of release far too intense to be a normal few sprits that will coat his cock. Instead, you roar loudly, like no noise you’ve ever made before, one of those groans that comes straight from your toes and through your chest. You lose grip of the toy and focus on finding anything to anchor onto, scared you might float away with your second climax.
Hearing you cry out erupts a drive in him, his hips moving into you just as you like it. Flinging your legs over his shoulders, he grabs both of your hands in his and piledrives into you, his lips finding yours in a fevered kiss. 
You can tell he’s close too, the heavy rise and fall in his chest a dead giveaway. His cock is leaking cum into you in short bursts, causing his hips to jerk quickly into you, almost like he’s trying to make sure his dick is stuck inside you as deep as it can possibly go. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, a little bit of drool falling from his lips which you gladly lick up before slipping your tongue into his mouth. Sunghoon can’t stop cumming inside you, each time he thinks he’s finished, a few more ropes escape him. 
You can feel both of your cum running down your ass cheeks, the escaping liquid running hot as Sunghoon musters up any energy he has left to hold himself above you, “I think I might have set a new record for how much cum can spill from a man,” he laughs, giving you eskimo kisses.
Reaching over, you turn the rose toy off, leaving the room filled with only your intertwined heavy breaths and laughter. You feel so happy in this moment that you could honestly die happily right now.
Sunghoon climbs off you, pulling you up with him, leaving a gentle his on your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom to find something to clean you both with. You lean over the bed, finding one of his t-shirts sitting in his suitcase and putting it on your spent body. The best part of spending any form of time with Sunghoon is stealing his clothes.
Walking back in with a face cloth, he wipes your pussy and thighs down, his fingers fishing out any cum remnants left. The sudden curling of his finger makes you clench again, “Sorry, Sweets. That was just a lot of cum, need to make sure it’s all out,” he whispers.
“I’ll go pee, that’ll help,” you say back, pushing him away to give you a pathway off the bed to excuse yourself to the toilet.
While you’re in there, he tidies up and puts on some fresh boxers, his cock still softening from the intensity of the fucking it just had. As he picks up the rose toy he smiles, chucking it into his case with a promise to use it at least once more before you leave. 
“Tomorrow is a big day, huh?” your voice travels from the bathroom as you wash your hands. 
“I suppose so,” Sunghoon responds, a little too nonchalant. 
He should be nervous, it’s a massive competition that is broadcast to thousands. Sure, he has done this a few times but surely with the ankle injury, he should be a bit apprehensive about going out there. 
You climb onto the bed and sit on his lap, arms circling his neck, “Why don’t you seem worried about this?” you ask, playing with the ends of his dampened hair.
In response, he shrugs, “I’m the number one skater, why should I be?” This isn’t his normal cocky attitude, this is something else. He knows something that he’s not telling you.
And you’ll be damned if you’re kept in the dark about another thing.
“Tell me the truth, Sunghoon. We promised not to lie to one another anymore.”
“It’s not lying if I just withhold information,” he replies, his lips trying to distract you as they pepper kisses up your neck and behind your ear.
But you push him away before you do get too into it, “That wasn’t the case when I ‘withheld information’ about Minhee breaking your skate,” you retort, hating to bring up the past but when push comes to shove, you’ll do it.
Closing his eyes, he nods in understanding. Sunghoon knows you’re right, you don’t deserve to be in the dark, “I’m throwing the competition tomorrow.”
The room goes quiet as you process his words. At this moment, you feel a sense of burden creeping back onto your body, “What do you mean throwing it? You haven’t lost a competition like this since you turned 16.” He isn’t the Nation’s best skater for nothing, he’s proved time and time again that he’s not to be underestimated.
Suddenly, the conversation with his mum pops back into your head for some reason. Her lack of acknowledgement of Sunghoon’s talents must have been with him for so long - fuck, they might still be with him. Maybe he’s throwing it in defiance?
He sees you think it over and over before he finally interjects, “I’ll still place top 3, Sweets. I’m just making sure he comes first, that’s all.”
“Why would you do that? You know if he finds out, he’ll be livid.” You can’t imagine Minhee ever wishing Sunghoon to yield it so easily, your brother worked too hard to perfect his routine to win by some giveaway.
“Okay,” he breathes out, knowing this conversation is about to get a little difficult, “We both decided it, actually. That day we went into the coach's office? Yeah, that’s what he wanted to talk to me about.”
“You want me to what?” Sunghoon asks, accompanied by a scoff. 
Minhee bites his tongue from making any rash comment, needing the other skater on his side for his plan to work, “I want you to throw Nationals.” 
Letting a venomous laugh out, Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re seriously asking me to purposefully lose at Nationals after everything you’ve done to me? To Y/N? You can forget it.”
Storming off, Sunghoon can barely reach the door before Minhee swings him back around to face him, a fire in his eyes that Sunghoon has never seen before, “Look, this isn’t for me. It’s for Y/N.” 
“Yeah of cours-”
“Let me fucking finish, Park,” Minhee snaps, his voice raised and arm gripping Sunghoon a little rougher, “Y/N told you about our mum, how she has stakes on me winning?” he waits to make sure you did actually have such a conversation with your boyfriend, to which Sunghoon nods, waiting for your brother to continue, “If I win, she gets a boat load of money, it’s all illegal and there are rules and stakes that I don’t even know the full detail of but either way, she’s playing it dirty with some big bosses. She took money from some guys to put the bets on, y’know?”
Minhee’s explanation isn’t convincing his counterpart, wondering where you come into this, “I don’t hear Y/N’s name in this. If your mum has a gambling addiction, that’s between her and the guys she’s fucking over, not my girl.” 
“The bets are in Y/N’s name.”
“What?” Sunghoon yanks his arm from his grasp, stepping back a little, “You mean she’s tied up in all of this?”
Nodding, Minhee feels the familiar boil of rage within him. He still can’t fully comprehend how his mother could do this to you, she is meant to look after you, not cause you harm, “I know, it’s fucked. If mum loses these bets, guess who everyone is going to be gunning for?”
Sunghoon’s heart quickens, the thought of you being in danger is making him feel sick and the words hang heavily in the air between the two people who love you the most. Your entanglement within this mess of a web was the last thing Sunghoon thought Minhee would say.
“So if you win, and she gets the money…”
“Then they get their cut. Happy days, my sister is no longer in danger,” Minhee rubs his temples, trying to give his brain a moment to gather itself before he divulges the rest, “I’m telling you this because I know you love her and as I said, you’d be doing this for her.” 
There is so much to think about that Sunghoon’s brain is sparking out a little, but one thing is for certain, he is going to do everything in his power to protect you, “Fine. I’ll lose. But how do we know your mum won’t do something else?”
“I don’t,” Minhee confesses truthfully. He has no idea if she’ll even give the men their cut once he wins, “I’m gonna tell her that I know about her gambling and the illegality of it all, hope that scares her enough to not try and fuck any of us over, y’know?”
“That’s all you’re going to do? The love of my life is out there with a target on her back and you’re just going with a presumption that she’ll back off by a threat?” There is steam coming from Sunghoon’s head and his fists are balled up in rage. This isn’t something to be taken lightly.
Minhee holds in his frustration, knowing Sunghoon is only looking out for you, but the lack of faith in him is making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool, “She might be your girlfriend, but she’s my sister, alright. I have been doing everything in my willpower to keep her safe since we were little…Listen, I know my mum, she’s scared and I can see it. She’s way deeper into this than she knows how to deal with, she wants that money and to get away from those gambling sharks, yeah? My mum won’t do anything like this again, I feel it.”
It’s a hunch, a loose, untrusted huch, but it’s all he’s got. He just wants to protect you right here and now. If your mum stoops low enough to bring you back into a mess like this, he’ll sort it when the time comes.
Seeing Minhee’s resolve, the raven-haired boy retracts, calming down. He knows Minhee is trying his best, and if he can keep you out of immediate danger by coming in second at a competition, he will gladly do it.
You sit still, processing the bomb that has just been dropped on you. The gambles being in your name is something you had no idea about, hence why they probably didn’t tell you about this grand plan. 
What does someone even do in this situation? 
Sunghoon rubs your arm reassuringly, trying to get you to speak or even make a noise of acknowledgement. He can’t imagine how difficult it must be to hear this for the first time but he knew that he couldn’t tell you; if he let you in on Minhee and his secret, you would have tried to solve the problem yourself, to help everyone else in the situation as best you can, and he couldn’t watch you do that, not when none of this was your fault.
“Don’t throw it,” you say firmly. 
Sunghoon freezes, his hand stilling on your arm as he looks at you, surprise evident in his eyes. He hadn't expected those to be the first words to break the heavy silence that enveloped the room, “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you crazy?” 
Perhaps you are, but you can’t watch anyone sacrifice their livelihood, especially a chance of gold at Nationals, just for you. It’s selfish, on both your part and your mother's. No, you didn’t ask to be put in this situation, but there was something you could do now.
Unfortunately, this is what Sunghoon was afraid of.
“You saw Minhee’s skate, he’s phenomenal. I want him to win this properly,” you confess quietly, still struggling with the information relayed to you only minutes ago.
“What about your mum? Sweets, this is a full-proof plan to get you both away from your mum, to let you both live without her mess,” his left hand cradles your cheek as he moves closer to you, as if hearing the solution from a closer distance would suddenly help change your mind.
It won’t, you’re determined to have this conversation end your way the only option forward is, “Please, Hoonie. If he loses, we will deal with it…but I believe in Mini so much, especially after seeing the rehearsal a few weeks ago. I want him to know he can win this on his own merit.” Your eyes search for any ounce of understanding.
Sunghoon's brow furrows in frustration, his mind racing with the weight of the decision before you both. He wants nothing more than to protect you, to shield you from harm, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to upset you and go against your wishes.
Taking a deep breath, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his embrace offering silent reassurance and support. "Okay," he says finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "We'll do it your way. I won’t throw the competition but ONLY if he does well. He’s on before me on the card so I’ll make the call then,” he can barely believe he’s agreeing to this.
A mixture of relief and fear wash over you. You understand the gravity of his concession, knowing that it's not an easy decision for him to make. It fills you with gratitude that he actually listened to you.
"Thank you, Hoonie," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you lean into his embrace, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "I promise, we'll figure this out together. And Minhee... he'll do amazing, I just know it.”
The belief you have in your brother is something Sunghoon only wished for growing up, seeing how determined you are to make sure Minhee knows he’s talented enough to win and solve this mess by just being good at what he does makes your boyfriend a little envious. He knows why Minhee is so protective of you, but now seeing how you protect and only do the right thing for one another, putting your sibling before anything else, it’s admirable.
“What time is he on?” you ask, twiddling with the hem of your shirt.
“2:35pm. I’m on at 3:45pm so I’ll see the scores and whatever in plenty of time to determine what to do.” There is a new sense of life in Sunghoon, certain that no matter what happens tomorrow, he’s going to make sure you and Minhee walk out happily, with no worries perched on your shoulders.
taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops
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harrysfolklore · 10 months
Note
Can you write a blurb where y/n is pregnant and she and harry are at a family party or something and everyone keeps touching her bump and she’s very uncomfortable, and harry comforts her? Xx
as usual, i hated the ending for this but i hope you guys like it 🥲 let me know your thoughts and thanks for the request <33
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
GIF BY @whatsthereinthename
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The world was going crazy over Harry Styles becoming a dad.
And the fact that the picture he posted on his Instagram to announce it gathered over 30m likes, making it the 10th most liked picture on the platform’s history proved it.
However, his millions of fans all over the world weren’t the only ones feeling absolutely ecstatic over his wife being pregnant with his first child, his family was also losing their minds over the news.
The Styles family loved YN to pieces, and not only Harry’s nuclear family consisting of his mom and sister, his extended family including aunts, uncles, cousins and even family friends had grown to love the girl over the years. So when Anne called up to invite them over for one of her famous get togethers, they were over the moon because they knew the couple would be there and they would catch a glimpse of a pregnant YN for the first time.
“You ready, love?” Harry said as he entered their shared bathroom where his wife was applying the finishing touches to her makeup.
“I am, just need to spray on some perfume and I’m good to go.” She said as she turned around to face her husband, and when Harry got a proper look at her his breath almost hitched in his throat.
She looked absolutely breathtaking with her navy blue sundress and the brand new bump that adorned her body.
Harry swore that he had never seen someone more beautiful.
“Look at you, darling.” Harry simply said, putting a hand on his chin, looking at her almost in disbelief.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” YN joked for a moment, battling her eyelashes at him.
“No, you’re just the most gorgeous woman on this earth.”
“And you’re a total sap, let’s go, I don’t want us to be late.”
The car ride to Anne’s house was nice, their favorite soft tunes and small talk filled the air until they got there, and before getting off the car, Harry took a moment to reassurance his wife about the evening.
“If you feel uncomfortable or want to rest let me know immediately, okay? I don’t want you or baby to be overwhelmed.”
She pecked his lips softly before speaking, “We’ll be good, don’t worry.”
They got off the car and we’re instantly met with Anne waiting for them by the door, a fond smile on her face at the sight of two of her favorite people.
“I’m so happy you made it,” she said as he hugged Harry first, “Darling! You’re absolutely glowing!” she hugged her daughter-in-law, gently caressing her bump.
“Thank you, Anne. It’s so good to see you.”
The three of them headed to the backyard where the rest of the guests were mingling, and once YN stepped foot all eyes were on her, complimenting how beautiful her bump looked.
“YN darling! Long time no see!” one of Harry’s aunts approached her, hugging her before placing a hand on her bump.
At this, she immediately tensed, not used to anyone aside from Harry touching her bump.
Harry noticed it and he placed a hand on her back protectively before speaking, “We’re going to sit down for a bit, the missus is a bit tired from the drive here.”
Once they were seated next to Gemma and her boyfriend Michal, YN squeezed Harry’s leg gently and gave him a soft smile, as a way to thank him for his previous action.
The evening went on smoothly, they ate Anne’s delicious food and engaged with family they haven’t seen in a while.
However, every time someone came close to YN, trying to touch her bump or just invade her personal space, she grew more and more uncomfortable.
“Your bump is getting so big!”
“Is the baby kicking yet?”
“I miss having a baby bump.”
Were some of the comments YN had heard all day long, and by the time another of Harry’s aunts tried to approach her, she had enough and quickly exited the backyard before she could reach her.
“Love? Are you okay? Saw you running away back there.”
Harry’s voice made its way to her ears, she was leaning on the kitchen counter, her back facing him.
“I’m okay, just needed a breather.” She said, her eyes closed and still not facing him.
“Hey,” Harry slowly approached her, standing next to her but not touching her, “Can you look at me please?”
YN slowly turned around, and once Harry saw her watery eyes with tears threatening to come out, he pulled her to his chest.
“What’s going on, love? What made you upset?”
YN took a few breaths before speaking, “I just, I’m not used to anyone but you touching my bump and being close to me, and your aunts have been all over me all evening and I guess I got overwhelmed,” she sniffed before continuing, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude to your family but these hormones are acting up.”
“It’s okay love, nothing to apologize for,” he pecked her forehead softly, “Do you want to get out of here, we can leave now.”
“No, we don’t have to leave,” YN interrupted him, “Can you just, stay next to me when we go out there? I feel safer when you’re close.”
Harry almost melted at her words, and she grabbed her chin and kissed her lips softly.
“Of course, my love. I’ll always make sure you and baby feel safe and comfortable.”
And with a final shared kiss, they headed out again, Harry staying by YN’s side the entire time, making sure she and his baby were always safe.
taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry
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cdragons · 5 months
Text
Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2
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Previous Part, Next Part
Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.
Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic
Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇
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Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006
“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”
Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.
“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”
He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.
But he made a mistake.
The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.
Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.
No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.
But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and
“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”
Fuck, he was getting soft.
Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.
That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.
Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.
His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.
He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.
Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.
Oh God, he was going to blow.
Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.
Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.
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First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006
Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.
He had to know more.
Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.
All the better for him to keep observing you.
As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.
He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.
But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.
He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.
He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.
“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.
You were American. How adorable.
“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”
You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.
Must have been Farleigh’s idea.
Anyway, back to you.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.
Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.
Except that he was.
He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.
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Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.
It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.
My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋
Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.
By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.
“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”
“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”
Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”
Felix just shrugged.
“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”
Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.
“Merry Christmas, indeed.”
A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.
“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”
“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”
“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”
Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.
“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”
Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.
Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.
Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.
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Manchester, December 2006
You were having the time of your life.
Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”
But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.
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Oxford Dining Hall December 2006
You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.
“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.
Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.
“What?” you croaked out.
“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”
“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”
“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”
You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.
You hated feeling small.
“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”
He rolled his eyes at your concern.
“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”
You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.  
His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.
When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.
“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”
“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”
Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.
“Look, are you coming or not?”
You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.
“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”
A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”
“Don’t push it.”
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You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.
His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.
“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”
When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.
“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”
“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”
“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”
“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”
Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.
“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”
You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”
“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.
“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”
Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.
“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”
“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”
“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”
“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”
Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.
“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”
“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”
You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.
“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”
“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”
Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.
“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”
“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.
Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.
The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.
You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.
When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.
You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.
But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.
Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.
At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.
Well – everyone except one.
Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.
Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.
Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.
“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”
You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.
“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”
If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.
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Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006
In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.
He had to get out of here.
In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.
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dark-fics-4-you · 11 months
Note
step bro rafe who plays football or hockey. idk it just seems hot🙏
Number One Fan
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I’m gonna combine this with this request: Something with step bro rafe where the reader calls him rafey and it turns him on but she doesn’t know…
(This can be read as a continuation of my previous step bro!Rafe fic, but i’m not sure if I want to make a bunch of drabbles or one connected narrative so we’ll see what happpens ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
Next chapter
Warnings: drinking, relationship between step siblings, rafe is having unpure thoughts👀
The stadium was packed with college students and fans, roaring as the whistle blew.
You were close to the field, eager to get a good view of Rafe. He was the star quarterback of East Carolina University, and for good reason.
He had led the team to victory in all 10 of their last games.
The score was evened out, with only a few seconds left on the clock, everyone was eager to see what would happen next.
When the whistle blew again and the ball was passed to Rafe, you cheered loudly.
He dodged two players, dancing around them before running all the way to the endzone.
Everyone on the crowded bleachers jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming at the touchdown, but no one was louder than you.
“Go Rafe! Go!! Woo!!!”
You beamed proudly as you watched him pump his fist in the air, fist bumping his teammates as they congratulated him.
You were one of the first people to rush to the field, running up to your older brother and practically jumping on him in your excitement to hug him.
“Oh my god, Rafey! That was such a good game!” You squealed. “You were awesome! That last touchdown was amazing!”
Rafe flashed you a grin, perfect teeth winking in under the bright lights of the stadium. “Thanks, Y/N/N. You know I win every game just for you,” he joked and you giggled along.
“Hey, some of my teammates and I are gonna go out for drinks after we get cleaned up, wanna tag along?”
“Sure!” You smiled up at him. You were always happy when he included you in things he was doing, which admittedly was a lot of the time.
“Perfect, sugar. Here are my keys,” he tossed you them. “Why don’t you bring the truck around to where the locker room exit is, you can wait in there till I’m done. Okay?”
“Yeah! Sounds good!” You parted ways, heading to the truck but you didn’t notice how his gaze stayed on your back as you walked away.
~~~~~~
“That’s a pretty hot piece of ass you had hanging around you, Cameron,” one of Rafe’s friends joked, suggestively nudging the blond with his elbow.
“Shut up, Wilson,” Rafe snapped. His stomach lurched at the comment. He didn’t like the idea of any of his friends trying to sleep with you.
In fact, he didn’t like the idea of anyone trying to sleep with you. The very thought made him sick.
“Hey, I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind if she came around more, amiright?” Wilson asked the other guys around him that had seen you and they all laughed and nodded.
“Knock it off, seriously,” Rafe warned. “She’s not interested.” He could feel his irritation rising, his face heating up.
“Damn okay Cameron, chill. We were just joking,” someone else interjected.
“Well I’m not fucking laughing.” He pulled on his shirt before slamming the locker door. “I don’t think I’m gonna go out tonight anymore. See ya at practice.”
A few guys complained, “come on Rafe, we didn’t mean anything by it.”
But he was already halfway out the door.
~~~~~~
“Change of plans,” Rafe said as he climbed into the driver’s seat and you clicked your buckle.
You looked at him inquisitively. “Oh?”
“We’re gonna go out, just the two of us. None of the guys.” He started the truck, pulling out of the parking lot and towards the road.
“Oh, okay.” You said in a confused tone. “Why are they not coming?”
He was silent for a moment and you glanced at him again.
“Rafey?”
“I just decided that I’d rather go out with my favorite girl instead,” he said with a smile, ruffling your hair and you grinned.
“Oh, okay!” You said happily. “Ooh could we go to this bar that I know, it’s on Seventh street.” You babbled away about the bar you wanted to go to.
Rafe shifted in his seat, trying as hard as possible to hide his growing erection, nodding along but he was finding it hard to pay attention to anything you were saying, attention shifting between watching the road, and turning to examine your features.
He pulled up to the bar and you hopped out of the car. You both showed your ID’s at the door and found a booth to sit at, Rafe pulling you in to the same side he was on so you could be closer.
A waiter came to get your drink orders, you got a fruity cocktail and Rafe got a beer, and Rafe ordered a plate of loaded nachos for you to share.
Your drinks came quickly and you offered Rafe a sip of your cocktail, which he took before offering you a sip of his beer.
You took a quick swig, face scrunching up at the flavor. “Bleh, I still have no idea how you like beer so much, Rafey!” You giggled, leaning against him in the small booth, his arm wrapped around your waist.
“You get used to it if you drink enough, Y/N/N.” The blond laughed, grabbing a nacho off of the plate in between the two of you.
“I just think it’s so gross,” you shook your head, smiling.
“Please, you’re one to talk. I still remember that time you tried to make mixed drinks for us at that party and they sucked so bad I nearly threw up.” He chuckled.
“Shut up! I got better afterwards!” You laughed hard at the memory. “So mean, Rafey,” you said with a fake pout.
“Not true, I’m always nice to you, Y/N/N,” Rafe sounded surprisingly earnest. “You know I would do anything for you.”
“I know, I know,” you finished your cocktail, catching the waiter’s eye before ordering a second.
You leaned back, melting into your step brother’s arms.
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” Rafe whispered quietly. “You know that, right?”
There was a strange moment when you met his eyes, odd feelings washed over you. The intensity in his look stirred something in you that you couldn’t identify.
“Yeah I know, Rafey. You’re my favorite person too.”
He smiled at that, pulling you closer to his warm body. You cuddled against his chest, enjoying the circles he was tracing lazily into your back with his fingers.
Your second drink arrived and you downed it quickly, feeling a little beyond tipsy by the time the two of you stepped out of the bar.
He drove you home, comfortable silence most of the way. You felt warm and the alcohol in your system made you feel much more affectionate.
Rafe opened the front door of the house for you, allowing you to lean on him drunkenly as he guided you inside.
When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, not wanting to go to bed alone.
“Would it be okay if I slept in your bed tonight, Rafey?” You asked, looking up at your step brother with hopeful eyes. “I just feel more comfortable when you’re by me.”
“Sure, Y/N/N.” Rafe smiled at you, leading you to his room.
You kicked off your shoes, taking your shorts off before dropping them on the floor. “Do you have a shirt I could wear, Rafey?”
His eyes fell on you, noting your bare legs and the pink panties you had under your shorts. His mouth felt dry, and it took him a second to remember you had just asked him a question.
“Um, yeah I should have one…” he searched in a drawer, before tossing you the oversized shirt.
You pulled it on, unclipping your bra underneath the shirt before putting it with your shorts and top.
Rafe kicked off his shorts, stripping to his boxers before pulling his shirt off over his head. He stepped towards his door, flicking the lights off.
You crawled into his bed, breathing in his smell in the sheets, scooting over when he followed.
Usually when you slept in Rafe’s bed, you were the one who pressed to him, hugging his back as he faced away from you, but this time, you were surprised when you felt the warmth of his chest press to your back, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.
As you dozed off to sleep, you were none the wiser that your step brother was beside you, hard as a rock, and imagining things that were far from brotherly.
Chapter 2
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doki-doki-imagines · 7 days
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Hybrid!Cow Nagi x Reader
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tw: Smut, afab reader, use of she/her, hybrid x human sex, Nagi is a bit mean, but he is also very very in love.
a/n: a small piece of a much bigger fic inspired by this official art. This is just the smut part, but I wanted to get this idea out of my system. It was set in a world where most people are hybrids, and just a few (like reader) are born human. Nagi is one of the local mailmen and the first person to meet you. It was going to be a long, fluffy fic ending with filthy smut. So take just the cherry on top, lol. Maybe one day I'll complete this.
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Seishiro isn’t used to rough nights like he isn’t used to scratched knuckles and sore muscles, but it seemed the only right thing to do when that shit poor example of a cat hybrid treated you like that.
He lays on your bed, white hair sprawled on your soft sky-blue pillow, his large-fitting hoodie and blue pants miraculously clean.  “Smell nice” Seishiro thinks, cow ears fluttering when your smell on the pillow hits his nostrils. It’s relaxing after such an intense fight. For that dude, not for him.
“It’s an honor to be my partner-“ “Nobody wants a simple human as a partner, I’m doing it just because my parents asked, and anyway they should thank me since I could get much better-“ “I don’t want a loser nerd as a partner, they should start to dress and eat better-“ 
Seishiro doesn’t remember what came first, but the clear image of you crouched on yourself, lips trembling and fat tears hanging on your lower lashes keeps playing in his head. His tail beat nervously on your mattress, remembering the entitlement in that loser voice. Nagi bites the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood, your pillow now pressed to his face, trying to calm himself down with your smell. His leg twitches, remembering how hard he kicked that douchebag,  straight on his chest, making him hit a table behind and surprising all his friends.
It was already a pain to go out with everyone, but seeing you on a date with a guy that wasn’t him, and treated that badly was the cherry on top of his already poor patience.
“Is everything okay Nagi?” A shiver runs down Seishiro’s body, making every muscle twitch for the surprise. He moves away the pillow, side-eyeing you, before plopping it on his back to look better at you.
“I have to ask two things-“ You nod, prompting him to ask whatever he wants, while sitting on your bed, eyes locked with his ones.
“Call me Seishiro-“ You nod “and-“ He gulps, throat dry from the moment your figure met his sight. “Are you trying to seduce me?” His voice is calm as always, but the intensity of his eyes makes you jump on the spot.
“Seduce? I mean, I usually dress like this to-“ You turn around, not wanting to look at him, embarrassed by his comment. Your sheer nightgown, with cute sunflowers embroidered on it and matching panties, left very little to the imagination after all. Not to talk about you being braless, a sight that sent in short circuit his brain.
 “Usually, so not always-”  He whispers, almost into your ear. He can see a shiver running down your spine making you arch. The desire to run a finger from your neck to your lower back is tempting.
He lay his chin on your shoulder, letting out a sigh, annoyed by the whirlwind that is happening in his stomach. “Can I kiss you?” His greyish eyes lock with yours, trying to read your emotions. Seishiro doesn’t move, waiting to understand your intentions.
You nod, and to Seishiro's surprise, you make the first move. Your soft lips touch his ones, it’s a butterfly touch that lasts way too little for the white-haired guy's tastes. “Is it good?” Your voice breaks a little and Nagi has to keep himself from pinching your cheek. “Yeah, but let’s improve.” He mutters back, full lips locking with yours, tasting a different shade of love from the previous one. Seishiro’s eyes are closed but he can feel your softer hands cupping his cheeks, before sliding lower to his chin and neck. He worries that you may have pyrokinetic powers since every time you touch his naked skin he seems to get hotter.
You moan into his mouth when his big hands start to wander, one groping your mound, protected by his rough touch thanks to your thin nightgown. The other pushed you towards the mattress, making you both slide lower into your bed.
“Sei-“ You break the kiss, breath heavy and barely open eyes, just to notice your lover laying at your side, the end of his tail tickling your right thigh.
“Can I go further?” He is surprised by himself. Seishiro, Mr. Hassle man suddenly asks for more and more, knowing exactly that he’ll have to do most of the work. You nod, neck turned in an uncomfortable position. Nagi notices and decides to leave little pecks down your throat, trying to make you relax.
Such a gentle gesture as opposed to his deft fingers lifting the end of your nightgown, exposing the soft skin of your leg to his rough handling. Hand groping and slapping your thigh with no finesse and for his own enjoyment.
“Ngh, Nagi-“ You get interrupted by another slap to your leg, making your ass grind into his lap, a gesture that generates a choked moan in Seishiro’s throat.  “I told you to call me Seishiro-“ He spits out, leaving a small bite on your shoulder, not too hard to bruise, but still leaving a sign.
Nagi’s lips find yours again, his tongue prodding at your entrance, asking, wanting, to lap into your mouth, to drink your moans, and to taste your spit. You surrender immediately, your tongue weakly fighting against his, lost to the pleasure this entire situation is bringing you. The hand that was massaging your leg is sliding closer to your core, bunching your nightgown to your waist. A deft finger slides into your panties, playing first with one curl of your hairs, before pulling it, making you groan.
“She kept herself untouched for me, maybe she hoped to scare that loser off-“Seishiro thinks, pushing his hips, and therefore his boner against your ass, that idea clouding his brain even more.  “I like them, keep them for me, mh?” He pants in your mouth, your lips still slightly open from the previous kiss. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips and Nagi takes it as consent to his order instead of a response to his forefinger assaulting your clit.
Seishiro has never been a patient guy, and it shows even now when his fingers caress your outer folds before digging a bit deeper, but never enough for your taste, edging you constantly while playing with the bundle of nerves with no grace. He wants to see fat tears roll down your cheeks, he wants to hear you beg for him, he wants to feel desired, and he wants it now.
“Sei-Seishiro!” You half scream, closing your eyes and finally, making tears escape. Nagi keeps himself from smirking, but his heart roars in pleasure at the sight. “Good-“
“You-you are a bully.” You interrupt him, your own phrase is broken by sighs of pleasure. Breath gets caught in his throat, not expecting to hear that from you, dick twitching when hearing your voice in strain.
“So, you don’t like me anymore? You want me to get out?” Seishiro teases you, speeding up the movement of his fingers. Your head moving left and right tells him all he needs to know, together with the hand that keeps pulling at the collar of his hoodie to keep him close. He finally pushes his middle finger inside your wet core “So wet, for me.” He mumbles biting his lower lip, thrusting faster, and soon adding the ring finger, curling them so deliciously that your eyes cross in pleasure. You are a mess, but Seishiro is no better, grinding his clothed boner into your ass desperately searching for relief, while his tail keeps trashing on his side of the bed, trying not to hurt your softer, human skin.
“Ah-ah” You moan, almost into his mouth, tears still rolling down your cheeks.
“Why do you keep your mouth open? C’mon if you need to say something, say it-“ The malice in his voice is clear, teasing you so meanly, but he can’t really stop himself from trying to push your buttons.
“Ngh-bully!” You groan back, your hand sliding to his hard-on groping it through his gym pants, noticing the big wet patch.
And how big he is.
“Ah-“ He moans too, the touch of your smaller hand driving him almost immediately to completion. It soon becomes a competition on whom would crumble first, both your bodies hot and sweaty trying to pull away but at the same time searching desperately for each other touch.
You reach your end first, throwing your head back into his shoulder, and letting out a high-pitched moan that Seishiro is sure to remember till he breathes. He pulls away as soon as possible, laying on his back and immediately pushing down, just the needed amount, his pants and boxers, freeing his erection, which hit his still-covered abdomen.
“Angh-“  He groans half in pain and half in pleasure for being finally able to free his cock, all flushed and angry for being edged for so long.
“Sei-“ You turn around. The mixture of your sweet, wet eyes and soft voice almost makes Nagi cum on the spot. “G-give me a moment. Then I-I can try to ride you.” You say in between heavy breaths, still swimming in the pleasure of the previous orgasm.
But as much as Seishiro would like to accept “N-No, turn around like before.” He orders, but to your ears, it seems more like he is begging you. Nagi notices and damn himself for sounding so pathetic, but the image of you on top of him, wet eyes, pouty mouth, and trembling legs, still wearing that damn sheer nightgown, wouldn’t make him last.
To say the truth just that image is sending him over the edge.
You nod at his request, turning around just like he asked; you must have thrown your panties somewhere since your back is completely exposed to him. Some droplet of your essence stains the apex of your legs, making Seishiro damn himself for not going down on you, having now to settle for his fingers to taste you.
Seishiro doesn’t indulge too much in your taste, even if it matches your smell, intoxicating, therefore he rolls on your side, grabbing your waist to pull you closer, his erection grinding against your back, slick with all the pre that copiously rolled down during your intercourse.
“Is-Is it gonna fit?” You look at him, and Nagi doesn’t have in him to lie to such sweet eyes “Maybe. I’ll go slow. If you were a cow hybrid it would have been easier-“ He brushes away some hair sticking to your forehead to land a sweet long kiss there “But I want you. More than any hybrid, ever. If it hurts I’m gonna stop.” He kisses your cheek, now dry after all those tears, before pushing just the tip inside your core.
Seishiro sees you wince, but you don’t tell him to stop. His left hand that was holding your waist is now entwined with yours, the other massaging your bosom, but not resisting the desire to pinch your pert nipple. Nagi pecks down your neck, to your chest, while sliding his throbbing member inside you, trying to ease your pain.
“Ngh-“ He groans, irises become liquid bliss. You are so warm and welcoming, sucking him in like you were made to fit together. All those hybrid theories could go fuck themselves because the white-haired guy is sure nobody could make him feel so ecstatic. “You are so good- so good for me.” He moans in between kisses, pushing your nightgown up to touch your trembling tummy, mouth now kissing and sucking your covered chest, pulling sweet moans out of your throat, while his tail tries to encircle your lifted leg to keep you impossibly close.
“You-You feel so nice Sei-“ You breathe out, scratching the little hair on his nape pulling a guttural groan from his mouth. He looks back at you, and you twitch feeling his hot mouth leaving your bosom, missing it already “Can I fuck you?” You tighten around his length and nod, biting your lower lip eyes looking at him so deeply he thinks he may drown in them.
He starts slowly, never really pushing out, not wanting to be separated long from your warmth. But things start to go downhill when your sweet, almost mellifluous moans meet his ears, calling his name so deliciously that he soon gives up on rationality like a sailor enchanted by a mermaid’s voice. His thrusts are deep and fast, making you both mewl out each other names.
“I’m-close-“ You slur out, one hand gripping one of the small horns on Nagi’s head to find purchase to reality in this frenzy. Seishiro just nods at your words, having noticed way before you told him, his length almost slipping out for how wet you are. His deft fingers return to your clit, rubbing furious circles on it to bring you to your apex “Ngh-no, together.” You grumble, trashing a bit and trying to pull away the hand that was bringing you so soon to delirious pleasure.
He looks at you from the nook of your head, not sure you are serious about this. But the look in your eyes, so determined and confident makes him crumble. “Ngh, ah-“ A pathetic mewl escaped his throat making him wince for how cringe he sounded, his thrusts now sloppy and with no finesse, just trying to grind the both of you to the apex. Seishiro kisses your already swollen lips when you reach your peak, too worried about the pitiful sound he’d make, but damning himself for losing the occasion to hear your voice one more time. Your walls spasm around his length trying to suck everything from his cock, desperate to have all of him inside you. He thrusts a bit more into your core, not wanting to leave your warmth so soon, but the overstimulation feels soon overbearing.
You break the kiss, both your breaths are heavy, lashes hanging low like you are waking up from a dream. You cup his cheek, your thumb tracing little hearts making his heart thump harder than before. It seems like you want to say something, you have a cute little smile on your face but Seishiro doesn’t give you the time, his plump lips against yours, tongue already begging for one more dance. The overstimulation subdues to desire, and from the twinkle in your eyes, Seishiro knows you are on the same page.
The night ahead is still long.
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love letters and second sons | part 3.
Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.
Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Previous Part | Series Masterlist
A/N: Sorry this part is so short
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You stood in the drawing room of Kew, waiting for your mother and father to arrive in just a few minutes. Instead of a huge breakfast in the dining room, you opted for a light tea in a more casual setting. Honestly, you were mildly annoyed. The only thing you wanted to do after people returned from their church services, that they never attended weekly because no one cared about the priest admonishing them, was go to the Featherington house. You were shocked that Colin was calling Marina. But friends didn’t always fall in love.
It wasn’t like Penelope was upset about it. She didn’t even like Colin. But like your mother you wanted to matchmake someone and figured they would have been the easiest couple to form. But you wanted to spy on Colin and Marina under the guise of aiding in chaperoning with Penelope since Lady Featherington was running around between girls and their callers.  
Your thoughts about who to matchmake were interrupted by your parents arriving. You poured tea for them. Breakfast was a bit awkward in a way it had never been before. George and Charlotte were assessing you intently. You got in two bites of bread when the physician entered. Your parents continued their conversation while you were being checked over. The physician made little comments for the nurse to jot down. Overall, you were fine. That seemed to satisfy your mother and father. There was a glint in Charlotte’s eye. 
“The King an— Everyone, out.” 
The room, aside from Brimsley and Reynolds, cleared out. 
“George and I have decided that we’d like to give you an opportunity. There is an opera coming up. Agatha and her friend Violet will be attending. You may come with. You will meet them before the show starts and then we will stay to watch the entire performance. Afterwards, you must go home. No exceptions.” 
“Thank you! Thank you so much! I wo—” 
“Calm yourself. You know getting excited makes your condition worse.” 
You sat back down, trying not to bounce up and down. She was right after all. Being overly excited made you sweaty or a little hot for some reason and being too warm made you start to see things or think strange things. When your parents left, you ran to your wardrobe. 
The dresses needed to be fancy but not too fancy since it was a sit-down event. You picked a yellow dress with short puff sleeves. It ended just above the bottom of your ankle — very stylish for the times. Pairing it with light blue gloves that went past your elbows, you added a light blue skirt piece that made a small train. 
“You look beautiful, Your Highness,” Brimsley said. 
“I have to agree.” Both Pandora and Reynolds looked at each other, shocked they said the same thing at the same time. 
“Thank you. Shall we go? Reynolds, would you like to be dropped at home to see Father?” 
“That would be nice, Your Highness, thank you.” 
“Then let us leave now.” 
You rolled your eyes in the carriage, setting down your copy of Lady Whistledown’s society papers. 
“It is utterly ridiculous. She is a disgraceful woman. I tolerated the gossip but speculating death, wishing death on my father is something I cannot accept nor tolerate. How dare she?” 
Your confidantes agreed with you and shared their own opinions on society and gossip. 
Whispers started to spread throughout the opera house while people still rolled in and music still played. How could it not? The youngest royal child was actually outside. There was no opening for the mouth on this particular mask which meant this was not your introduction. You might speak to a lucky few but there would be no speeches or announcements tonight. People couldn’t hear you from far away with ceramic blocking your mouth. You stuck close to your mother while everyone tried to look at you or talk to you. 
“Lady Bridgerton!” Lady Danbury yelled from across the room. “Do join us.” 
Violet tried to conceal her wide eyes and smile as she grabbed Daphne’s arm before her daughter could walk away from whoever she was trying to avoid. She made eye contact with you. You watched as she rather frantically waved over someone else. 
Anthony — or should you call him the viscount for the evening — began walking towards you, bowing to the Queen before turning his full attention to you. You let him take your hand and give it a kiss. A kiss that you noted was considerably longer by a minimum of five seconds than when he kissed you as Miss Beckett. So it was definitely Violet trying to set up the princess with her son and not the valet with Colin.    
You let Anthony talk your ear off about his responsibilities as the eldest and his horseback riding hobby, notably leaving out the details of riding through the mud and staying out there for hours. He was considerably more boring when trying to impress a woman. Ignoring the whispers that permeated through the room, you tried to focus on your friend. 
You motioned for him to lean in so you could speak into his ear and actually let him hear you rather than sounding muffled, practically silencing the hall. Anthony laughed at the joke you told which caused both of your mothers to turn around. This was the Anthony you liked better. Violet gasped when you placed a hand on her son’s arm — your mother raised her eyebrows as she and Lady Danbury gave you a slight nod of approval. 
“Will you escort me to our box, Viscount Bridgerton?” 
“Please, call me Anthony.” 
“Lord Bridgerton, that is most forward when we don’t know each other.” 
“I was told royals didn’t obey our rules of upper society.” 
The two of you started up the stairs, away from prying eyes, that led up to the Queen’s box. 
“Anthony?” 
“Now we speak of first names.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I will allow you to call me by mine, just this single occasion. Anthony, where are the other Bridgerton siblings? If I remember correctly, you have seven of them? Miss Bridgerton is here but I do not see the others.” 
“Truthfully, they were very bored by the show being put on tonight. We’ve seen it before. I’m merely here to aid my mother and chaperone my sister. Have you seen this show before?” 
“If I have then it was when I was very little.” 
“Well, then please do not let my words discourage your enjoyment of the performance. Here is your stop.” He extended a hand to help you up the short steps into the box. “Y/N, thank you for the flowers from the other day. Truly, they are appreciated.” 
You studied his face for a moment. He really was handsome. His hair didn’t cover as much of his face this evening as it usually did whenever you visited. The stark colors of his black and white attire made his features stand out. 
“I am glad you liked them. Now is where I leave you for the evening, Lord Bridgerton. I shall hope to see you some more once I formally introduce myself to society.” 
“I will look forward to that day. Goodbye… Y/N.” 
“Goodbye, Anthony.” 
Taking your seat, you waited for your mother and her friends to come to the box. The smile on Charlotte’s face grew wider the closer she got to the box. She was going on about Anthony. Obviously, you were going to have many suitors to entertain but a viscount was certainly a very important suitor and only made your prospects have to be better in their courting. 
“Excuse me, I’m going to the privy,” you told your mother when you felt your throat start to tighten up. 
She just gave you a nod. The shadows of the opera house were closing in on you and you couldn’t calm your mind down. You needed to be in a place with more candlelight. You jumped at the sound of several dogs barking from the shadows. They were big creatures. You had never seen them but you could tell from their bark and — when you got too close — how their breath fanned across the top of your head. Hastening your steps to get away, you ran straight into Violet. 
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I decided to take a walk after going to the privy and wasn’t watching where I was going.” 
The woman in front of you smiled. “Your Highness, if I may be so bold to ask? Would you like to attend a dinner we are hosting? The Duke of Hastings will be there. I understand that you aren’t yet introduced but it woul—” 
“I shall love to come. Just tell me when.” 
“Saturday evening.” 
“Perfect.” 
Saturday evening couldn’t have come any sooner. You were tired of counting the floor titles in the bathroom and needed to leave. For the sake of your valets, you hadn’t snuck out at all that week.
You turned to your valets. “I will be back in a few hours.” 
“Please be careful,” Pandora said. 
“I always am.” 
“Not really.” You heard someone mutter inside the carriage. 
Marshall escorted you in. You had to stop yourself from smiling, remembering that he had no clue who you were. It was almost alarming when everyone — including the Duke of Hastings — stood when you entered the dining room. You weren’t sure why you didn't expect it. Perhaps you were already too used to your disguise as Miss Beckett. You gave a slight curtsey. 
“I apologize for being late.” 
“No. You aren’t late at all,” Anthony said as he started to gather his plate. 
You shook your head. “Oh, stay where you are.” 
“But, Your Highness.” 
“I can afford to not be the head of a table for a single night.” You looked around. “I shall sit across from Miss Daphne Bridgerton.” 
“She knows your name!” Hyacinth’s voice rose three octaves. You figured you could make her night by having the princess knowledgeable about the Bridgertons. 
Colin and Benedict scrambled to pull their chairs apart so you could sit in between them. You waved Marshall away, plating your own food. You could feel the silence of the dinner table as you did things the normal way you would at Kew or Buckingham House.
They also might have been preoccupied with your disguise rather than the way you dragged your own spoon through the mashed potatoes. It was natural. Your siblings had told you all about how people would scrutinize the different masks you would wear. They'd try their hardest to get a real glimpse of your face.
The eye holes had sheer coverings on them that made it hard to see your true eye color. And when it came to your mouth. Your maids had taken their painstakingly slow time making sure the makeup covered up an unique qualities around your mouth and changed the shape of your lips to a shape unrecognizable to you at all. Hungry mamas with daughters they'd want to be in your court or sons they'd want to court you are able to sniff out something like the tiniest wrinkle by the bottom of your lip and use that to scout the whole ton until they found you without the mask on.
It happened to Edward countless of times and was the reason for all the rules regarding the masks in the first place. You looked up after cutting your chicken. 
“What were you all talking about before I arrived?” 
“Lady Whistledown,” Eloise cut in before anyone could stop her. 
“Really? Tell me more.” 
“You want to know?” 
“Of course I do. I must know her identity. However I must say I will be having a private word with her about not publishing speculation of my father’s death.” 
“How is he?” 
“Oh, he’s perfectly fine. No matter, though, I need to know every thought you have on our mysterious Lady Whistledown?” 
You enjoyed the bickering between everyone. There wasn’t even a firm thought on what class Whistledown belonged to. In your opinion it had to have been an upper class woman. Only someone like that could have enough time on their hands and still survive day to day needs. You dipped your fork into the potatoes. 
“Viscount Bridgerton, I must say that any correspondence between the royals and the Bridgerton House should be sent to Kew. I stay there now.” 
“Correspondence?” Violet asked, trying to suppress the excitement in her voice. 
“Yes. I shall need to understand the ton more than what I have studied. Don’t bother putting them together. I much prefer to read individual letters. Now, I have engagements already arranged for tomorrow so I must be on my way. However, I would love to attend dinner again. Goodnight, Lady Bridgerton, Viscount, Bridgertons, Your Grace.” 
Anthony stood up from the table. “Let me escort you to your carriage.” 
“That would be much appreciated, Lord Bridgerton.” 
~~
My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 
I implore you all to remember that gossip, particularly baseless gossip, can be a dangerous thing. While we all are very entertained by Lady Whistledown, remember that you must discover the truth for yourself. I would hate to see lives ruined over entertainment. 
Yours Truly, 
Princess Y/N Hanover
Dear Viscount Bridgerton, 
The dinner at your house was very lovely. Your family seems to be a wonderful group of people. I am sorry for keeping my lady’s maid away for so long. She has been in Ireland, procuring plant seeds and fabrics for me. Please fret no more for she will be back soon. But I do have to say our correspondence might be limited to letters for a majority of our current time. Until I am introduced to society, it is not wise for me to constantly be out. I shall look forward to more times spent with the Bridgertons at a later date. 
Yours Truly, 
Princess Y/N Hanover 
You finished signing the letter, handing it to Pandora to take to the press for copies to be made. Moving an entire printing house from Buckingham to Kew wasn’t exactly quick and easy but your staff had managed to do it in no time at all. For the time being, Kew was entirely self-sufficient. 
“Please take the letters for the Bridgertons to their house after you have visited the press.”  
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Brimsley, what is on the schedule after the physician leaves?” 
“You wanted to ride horses and then prepare a bouquet for the ball tomorrow night to be delivered by one of us.” 
“Yes, thank you. And after that?” 
Reynolds looked at you and then his partner. You had just made the schedule no less than an hour ago. It didn’t seem normal for you to not know. Their eye contact didn’t waiver as they silently communicated to not say a word but just answer all your questions. You got up, moving to your wardrobe to get a petticoat for outside. 
“Ah, yes, Brimsley. Are we preparing the bouquet tonight before or after the physici…an…”
Tears started to well up in your eyes as you realized you had asked the question already. Brimsley and Reynolds were a tad too slow. You were already in the wardrobe, trying to calm yourself down. Every time a sob left your mouth or you begged them not to tell your parents caused some pain in their hearts. Reynolds stopped Pandora from leaving, handing the letters to a different lady-in-waiting. 
You looked up in the dark space when you heard the knocking. It was hard to ignore the dogs in the shadows just waiting to snap at you. But the dark stopped the heavens from coming in. It was always a compromise. And since the heavens confused your mind and blocked your memory, the dogs would have to wait. 
“You can open it.” 
Pandora stuck her head in, trying to prevent too much light from coming in. “You’re stronger than whatever you have, you know? It doesn’t matter. None of it does… Maybe you should show the planets and shadow dogs and other shadow creatures that they cannot control a princess. They do not control you.” 
Reynolds sighed as he said a quick prayer to not be fired. “Maybe going to the ball would show the shadows that they cannot control you.” 
You didn’t really have a choice. Pandora practically pulled you out of the closet and started making plans for tomorrow’s ball, including how to enjoy yourself but stay hidden.
(part 4)...
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imagine-knowing-a-name · 10 months
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déjà vu
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Summary: After Age of Ultron, the team are left with the decision of what to do with Wanda, and they’re not in agreement. Natasha becomes staunchly defensive of the witch, remembering her own fate at SHIELD was decided in a similar manner.
(Summaries are tricky but Nat defends Wanda, R defends Nat, then they comfort each other at the end)
Word Count: 1188
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Wanda Maximoff & Reader (Platonic)
Warnings: Half the team are being mean to Wanda and Natasha gets sad :(
A/N: Based on this request. Thank you all for the awesome response to my last fic, it gave me the motivation to write despite everything else going on rn, so thank you and reminder to reblog and comment on fics if you can, because that’s what keeps writers posting their fics on here :) Enjoy!
»»————- ★ ————-««
"We cannot let her waltz around scot-free without any repentance for her crimes!"
"She just lost her homeland and her twin brother; you don't think that's enough punishment?"
"She's HYDRA. She volunteered. She is everything we've been fighting against and you want us to, what? take her under our wing? make her even stronger than she already is?"
"Yes! That's the kind of power we want on our side-"
To nobody's surprise, Steve and Tony are at odds, driving the argument. Thor had backed Steve with the insight that second chances had done his brother a world of good. But everyone remembers the Battle of New York, and soon even Steve is wishing the God of Thunder would rescind his support. Bruce agrees with Tony, still racked with guilt over the Johannesburg incident. Then Clint voices his support for Steve, upon a conditional level of trust, to return the sides to an imbalance.
Sam and Rhodey use their newcomer status to remove their ballot from the decision; the two of them sneaking off, likely to do better things with their time.
The argument continues, never ceasing for breaths since everyone talks over each other, constantly interrupting the previous point. You grimace from your place in the corner; sitting, observing, and waiting for them to tire themselves out before you say your piece. Natasha meets your eye. She is doing the same.
"She's a child!" Steve continues
"She's going on 26! Steve you were Captain America by that age, I was the most famous CEO in the world! We weren't let off the hook for anything, were we? We weren't told we were 'just kids so it's all okay'. I paid for my mistakes, same as you did, and this glowing ball in my chest is proof of that."
"That's enough," Natasha finally speaks. Her voice is all it takes to bring the group to silence. "She's a victim. She was manipulated into her actions and she came around as soon as she realised that. We've all made mistakes, and joining the Avengers was our chance at redemption; let her have that."
"Her actions are her own, and I'm sorry, but they're too severe to wave off as a mistake, or ignorance"
"Is that the same with me?"
"What?"
"See, I was a victim too, but no one ever treated me like one."
"Nat-"
"No. Nobody was controlling me when I went through the Red Room; my actions were all my own, same as Wanda. But when your childhood is defined by manipulation and indoctrination, how much does that matter? I did the only thing I knew how to do and followed orders, same as Wanda, and I lost people along the way, same as Wanda. Have you even spoken to her, Tony? She's known since the age of 10 that your missile killed her parents, and HYDRA took advantage of that; you think you'd keep a levelhead if you found someone responsible for your parents' deaths?
So no. I spent too long thinking my transgressions were all my own, and I won't stand here and let Wanda believe the same."
Natasha strides out of the door with purpose and speed, while all eyes in the room track her movements in silence. It is only when the door slams that the team begins to break from their stupor.
You look around unsurely, meeting everyone's eyes as if to confirm its truth. You are the first to break the silence. "I'm going after her." Nobody contests.
You don't rush, you know where Natasha is after all and you know she needs time alone, but you also know to check up on her after an argument like that. You were there when Clint brought her back to SHIELD, when Fury and the archer broke into arguments echoingly similar to the one the team just had. You remember how much she struggled from her own mind, how they left her in a cell, just as the Avengers now have to Wanda, and you remember the thin walls, where Natasha could overhear all their arguments regardless of how you tried to distract her. 
It isn't a surprise to you when you open Natasha's door and she refuses to speak. She watches you enter and makes space for you to sit beside her on the bed, but she doesn't speak. You talk to her for a bit, praising her stance, but it's clear she needs longer alone.
"I'll be here when you need," you say. She nods. You walk back to where you're needed most, passing through the common room still full of arguing Avengers on your way.
"Stop thinking about yourselves for once, and think about your fucking team," you say without even stopping to look at them, then you continue your path out of the room.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Guilt sets in on the remaining Avengers as they fall to silence yet again. Clint reminds them what Natasha went through and from that memory, Natasha's hasty exit, and your outburst after seeing the assassin, they can all conclude how much the topic has hurt their teammate.
Clint apologies through her bedroom door; the others say sorry to her face once she lets them in. Natasha sighs, then nods her acceptance of their apologies. "The person you really should be saying this to is Wanda. She deserves support, not solitary isolation."
"Yeah, I don't think it's all that solitary," Tony says. He flicks his wrist to the wall, and soon enough FRIDAY is displaying a feed of Wanda's cell.
"Is that Y/N?" Steve asks, squinting for a better look.
Meanwhile, Natasha smiles, recognising the scene in front of her and knowing, with certainty, that it was you. She watches you and Wanda sit cross-legged on the floor with a plastic yellow board coming up between you. You both analyse it closely until you pull a circular blue chip from your hand and slide it in.
"That's four!" you cheer. Pointing out the four circles you had managed to connect. Wanda frowns, but you can tell it is not akin to the sorrow she had felt so often recently. At this moment, her mind is distracted entirely from that and focused only on the game. 
"We have to play again. I can win this, I know," the Sokovian frowns. "I get first move."
You're still dividing the 'connect 4' pieces into their respective colours when a knock sounds on the cell door. You look up as Natasha opens the door, greeting Wanda with a smile.
"You doing okay?" you ask.
Natasha nods. "Thank you for being here, Y/N. And as for Wanda-" she switches her gaze- "we've got a room prepared for you if you're willing to stay. You can learn to control your powers; the team agreed I can train you."
"I would like that," Wanda mumbles, her nerves around the assassin still clear.
"Come on then, I'll take you to your room.” Natasha smiles and escorts her out, but before falling out of your earshot, she leans into Wanda conspiratorially, “I’ll even give you the secret to beating Y/N at that game.”
423 notes · View notes
jo-harrington · 8 months
Text
Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.
Previous Part: Closing Time
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating
Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
"You look cute today."
"Thanks!"
"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"
"Got it."
Every day.
"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"
"Yeah it's at home."
"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."
"Don't worry Eddie."
He reminded you every day.
"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."
"Alright I'll be there."
"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."
"I swear to god!"
Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.
It was cute endearing.
October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.
And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.
Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.
Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.
And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.
But with Eddie...it was different.
A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.
You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.
Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.
Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.
"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."
You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.
"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.
"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."
"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.
Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.
Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.
They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.
"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."
---
Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.
You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?
Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.
However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.
Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.
"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."
"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.
"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."
"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."
"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."
"Hi."
"Nice of you to finally join us."
Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.
Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.
They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.
Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--
"She's real, I swear."
--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.
"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."
"They are."
"You like hockey."
"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."
You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.
"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.
"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.
---
Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.
"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."
"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."
"More blood! More! MORE!"
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.
A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.
To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.
To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.
Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.
Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.
"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.
"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."
"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."
"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."
"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.
"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."
Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--
"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.
"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."
"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."
"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.
"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.
"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.
"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."
"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.
The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.
"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.
They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.
But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.
"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."
"Impress is a stretch."
"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."
You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.
"Go before I gnaw on your brains."
"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.
"Go!"
---
It was an eventful night.
You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.
The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.
You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.
The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.
"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."
He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.
"Listen to your mother!"
And the nickname just stuck.
Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.
"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"
The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.
After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.
"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.
"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.
"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.
"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."
You both froze and you started panicking.
Why had you said that?
Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.
"Or uh...undeath. Considering."
Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.
---
By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.
"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"
"Of course."
"Enough to do it again next year?"
"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."
"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"
"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"
"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.
"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."
He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.
You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.
You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.
"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."
"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."
He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.
Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.
Hands held comfortably together.
Next Part: Promotion
300 notes · View notes
kenposting · 11 months
Text
New Guy
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Summary: Short & sweet; Ken is the new guy at your work - somewhere he keeps calling the ‘real world’. You don’t get that, but what’s new, he never really makes any sense. 
WC: 2.2k
AN: (Insert crying emoji) thank you for all the kind comments on the last Ken brainrot story I wrote omg!!! I just like him... did nawt expect all that. A small part of this was very loosely inspired after reading a blurb by @ideas-live-forever where Ken doesn’t like a latte. Its very cute and you can read it here!
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You wished you had words to describe him, really. I mean, how many times could you redirect the conversation away from the two of you? Your friends, roomates, classmates, even your family – they all picked up on your recent busy schedule. You were seeing someone, and that someone came off as incredibly alluring and mysterious to them after your hesitance in explaining. 
Ken was not alluring, let alone mysterious. Bless his heart, he was a bit dense actually. You didn’t want to tell people about him - not out of embarrassment, but out of protection for him. This world was a lot different from the one he claimed to be from… another piece of him you didn’t quite understand. You chalked it up to at best a joke or some weird pick up line (him saying he was from “out of this world”) and at worst an actual delusion, but you didn’t mind it. You found it kind of charming. 
You still remember when you first heard about him. There was a new guy at work and your coworkers were laughing about some of the answers he gave on his job interview. You felt a little bad, knowing his answers should’ve been kept confidential, but you couldn’t help but laugh when you overheard them. 
“No, yeah he literally said his last job was ‘beach’. Not lifeguard, not pool attendant, not national park ranger, not even the beach, just beach.” 
You laughed a little to yourself, finishing wiping down one of the tables. You had a morning shift today, like most days, but you wouldn't be open for a little while. You had time to listen. 
“I don’t know, man. At least he can wash a mean dish.” 
They weren’t laughing with him, but rather at him. It did make you a bit sad. He sounded hilarious, honestly. It was probably just a bit that he took too seriously. After all, a job interview isn’t always the best place to joke around like that. 
A metallic ding rang through the restaurant as the door swung open. You looked up to be met with quite the character. He was tall, probably around 6’3” or 6’4”, and tan. Must've been all that time at beach. His stature was broad and his shoulders barely fit through the doorframe. He was dressed in the same uniform you were, except his yellow diner ringer tee was tucked in to a pair of light blue cuffed jeans, paired with white tennis sneakers and white crew socks. He was blonde, clearly by choice, not birth, and he stood with a clean dishtowel draped over his left shoulder. He looked like he just stepped out of an 80’s back-to-school Target ad. 
“Morning, Ken.” 
“Morning! Thank you for the opportunity to work here! So cool…” 
You smiled to yourself, grabbing menus to set out on each table. He looked just as odd as he everyone made him out to be. 
Prep duty was your given task for this morning. Since you typically worked an opening shift before school, you only had to wait tables until 2pm. Doors didn’t open until 9am, so that left you three hours to cut vegetables and fruit while you supervised the new guy. 
“Hey, my office please.” 
Your boss beckoned you, explaining what Ken’s tasks were so you could keep an eye on him. 
“He’ll probably keep to himself, honestly. He seems nervous, but he’s glad to work here. I don’t really… get him.” 
“What do you mean, sir?” 
You boss sighed and shook his head, searching for a way to explain everything. 
“When I asked him about previous employment he just said he worked at ‘beach’ and that he was 'very good at it'. His references were all listed under the name name… his name. Ken. I kept asking if he was, like, a lifeguard or something and why everyone he’s worked for was also named Ken. He just kept repeating, ‘no, sir, just beach,’ and ‘I’m not sure I understand, sir, is your name not Ken too?’ like that made any sense.” 
Air quotes punctuated the absurdity of the whole thing. 
You bit the inside of your lip, stifling a laugh. This guy was wither a genius or actually insane. 
“Anyways…” he trailed off. “He didn’t have much more to say about work, but he said he was in town to study – of course, without any documentation. I guess you don’t need a diploma to wash dishes.” 
Ken did keep to himself mostly, but you could tell he took his job incredibly seriously. His brows furrowed while washing the plates from last night’s dinner rush. He wanted to be good at this, you could tell. You wondered if he took beach the same way, like his life depended on it. 
The day went by quickly. All the girls – and Ken – got off at the same time, switching aprons as the evening crew trickled in. 
“Wanna come to the bar with us tonight? It’s half-price on Tuesdays!” 
You smiled at the offer, but respectfully declined. 
“I’ve got homework, but maybe next time!” 
They sighed, saying you were no fun, waving to you as they all left together. You stayed behind to count and divide the tips. So did Ken, for some reason. 
“You can go home whenever you’re ready, Ken. Good job today.” 
You pretended not to notice his ears perk at your compliment. He was blushing, like… actually blushing. 
“Oh, thank you.” 
He sounded surprised, like he hadn’t ever been told he did well before. 
“What are you doing now?” 
You looked up at him. He was actually quite handsome up close. You both had your backs turned to each other most of the day so you didn’t get a chance to notice. 
His eagerness to learn was also attractive. He wasn’t handsy or gross or trying to hit on you like some of the previous employees you’ve worked with. He was kind and appeared genuine. 
“I’m counting the tip jar from this morning so I can divide the tips between all the morning waitresses. Each of them get their own tips on the bills or in cash, but the ones in the jar are kind of random, so we split all of those. We count morning separately so whatever the evening crew makes can be divided amongst themselves, in case they were busier or slower than us. Its fair that way. You get some too.” 
He looked like you just told him his childhood home caught fire. He was just bewildered at the concept. 
“I get some? But I already got paid for today, they said I’d get it on my 'check' in two weeks.” 
He did not know what a check was. You smiled to yourself, still deciding on wether he was being smart with you or if he was just inexperienced in the world. 
“Yeah, see? 20, 40, 60, 80, 100 in 20s, then 110, 120, 130, 140 in 10s. I already counted the fives – 145, 150, 155, 160, 165, 170, 175, 180, 185 there – and ones, so 186, 7, 8 ,9, 90, 91, 2, 3, 4 ,5, 6, 7, so that’s 197, divided by the staff is $32.83 each.” 
He did not get it at all. He nodded hesitantly, hoping to convince you he understood you just fine. You were explaining it like he should know this, afterall, and he felt kind of insecure that he didn’t get it. You didn’t mean to hurt his feelings and he knew that, but he was just more sensitive than most. 
“So I take it you didn’t make any tips at ‘beach’?” 
He shook his head, answering with complete seriousness. 
“No. We didn’t have money at all, actually.” 
He was always like that. It had been a couple of months now since he started with you. Every day he said something weirder than the day before. Just like today, when he asked if you were doing anything after work. You said homework, as per usual, and watched him panic, replying with, “Oh yeah... me too actually…”
“Yeah? You’re in school?” 
He nodded, another serious look on his face. He had forgotten about homework for a while now. They didn’t have homework in Barbieland. 
The thought alone of this man in a classroom was enough to have you laughing. Sure, he was smart and charming and handsome and good at his job and personable and kind and… lots of other things you didn’t want to admit, but he didn’t strike you as someone that would thrive in an academic environment. 
You took him out for drinks that afternoon. It was a small cafe that also served daydrinks, like mimosas or sangrias. It was a comfortable and safe environment, which was welcome, as today’s assignment was complicated even for you. Who knows why you took organic chemistry as your major. You hated chemistry. Everyone hated chemistry. 
You felt him watching you attentively, like he was checking if you might’ve needed anything. 
“What’s your homework on?” 
He was gentle in his approach. He liked you. 
You looked at him. He truly wanted to know, it wasn’t just small talk. 
You explained it as best at you could, truly, but he looked like he was about to cry, like it physically hurt his brain. Changing the subject, you asked what he was studying. 
“I’m majoring in Patriarchy and minoring in Horses and Beach.” 
You didn’t ask more. He was dead serious, too. He really was highlighitng and placing index notes on a book about horses. Stacked in his (pale yellow) backpack (with tiny embroidered flowers) were heavy textbooks, though, so he must've been studying something. Maybe this was part of the joke. After looking over his course catalogue to help him figure out assignment priority based on credit weights, you saw he was majoring in Gender Studies and minoring in Equine Science and Marine Biology. So yes, patriarchy, horses, and beach. 
The waitress stopped by your table and he panicked again, ordering the same thing as you. A little while later, two Espresso Martinis arrived. You sipped the drink casually, focused on your assignment. 
He didn’t mind it when you weren’t focused on him. He enjoyed your company, even in the quiet. He never felt like you were laughing at him. It was more like you found him funny, but in a nice way. He liked that about you. He liked all of you, actually. 
“Oh, wow!”
He had a sort of outburst that startled you from whatever it was you were reading. You couldn’t remember actually, the look on his face made you forget what you had just read. 
“Oh my gosh, that is terrible!!” 
He spoke in an elevated whisper, careful to not offend the workers. 
“Why does it hurt, is something wrong with it??” 
You covered your mouth to keep from laughing at him. He looked truly horrified. 
“Have you never had anything with alcohol in it before? I thought you were, like, what, 24? 25? Aren’t you in college?” 
“I don’t even have an age – wow, I’m so sorry, that is so bad.” 
He was so weird. So so weird. But you really liked that about him actually. He was sweet about everything and very kind and thoughtful, too. 
He clearly hated his drink but finished it anyway, probably out of courtesy. His face crumpled a bit every time he had to wash a dish that had a lot of food leftover. It was like he felt great sorrow for the chef – that their work wasn’t good enough for the customer, and they tried really hard, so that made him sad. 
Oddly enough, he put a $20 in the tip jar on the way out, shrugging when you asked him about it. He said sure, he didn’t like it, but that wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was grateful they ‘took good care of him’. He was just repeating what he’d heard other diner guests say when they tipped. He was so cute. 
You walked him home. He insisted on the other way around, but he was tipsy and didn’t really know what to do about it, hiccupping and catching his balance. He wasn’t frightened or anything, reassuring you he’d ‘seen this in the movies before’. You assumed he was referring to knowing what it’s like to be inebriated. Still, all this after only one drink, and a stereotypically girly one at that. 
“Thank you for walking me home and helping me with homework and letting me hang out with you today!” 
You smiled, nodding your head. 
“Sure, Ken. Do you work tomorrow?” 
He nodded excitedly, standing in a salute-like pose. 
“Sure do! I’m gonna wash the hell out of some dishes.” 
Cursing, although incredibly light for him, was something he told you he was learning to do since he was now ‘in the real world’. You didn't understand that, like most things about him, but you were excited to see him tomorrow nonetheless. 
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
For more Kenpostings I’ve written, click here.
For part two, click here!
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thewinchestah · 5 months
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"INTERMISSION" - ALASTOR X READER
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Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, masturbation, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etC
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Part I  | Part 2  | Part 4
A/N: Hello,hello everyone! Again, thank you all so much for the amazing reception to "Good things come for those who wait". I'm truly touched by your words and praise. I never really tought my writing would see the light of day at this point, nor this much love. My biggest thanks to everyone who takes the time to leave a comment.
So, I'm a bit self concious about this piece. "Intermission" is supossed to be a light break from the previous two fics. A breath of fresh, sex smelling air as I write the next long chapter. (It's gonna be nasty). My intent with this fic was to make it kinda chaotic, kinda rushed like Alastor's mind would be as he masturbates himself at the thought of you and what you are doing to him.
I truly hope I can do your hopes and expectations for my writting justice. I really appreciate feedback on this one.
As always, my special thanks goe to my lovely friend @smallershorteranduncut, who always support my ideas. Te amo amiga <3
Taglist: @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir  @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby  @lady-valtieri . If the tags aren't working or you wanna be tagged, let me know.
PART I | PART II
-
Alastor considered himself a smart man, a cunning, self-sufficient, resourceful man. So, naturally, the irony of him being locked inside the bathroom, his cock in his hands while he tortures himself with thoughts of you made him frustrated at best, murderous at worst. 
He hates everything about it, he hates to admit that his rut indeed makes him on edge and out of control, he hates to admit that before he met you the ways he dealt with his rut were… undignified. And he hates even more admitting that since he had you at his every whim, to fuck, to breed, to inflict the most depraved ways of torture his rut was becoming a pleasurable thing. All because of you, only because of you.
He had quite literally just fucked you so hard you passed out, his name a scream on your lips, so loud heaven might have heard it. Some part of Alastor wishes that heaven heard it, so they know they made a mistake, so they know they let one of the most sacred things to exist get down here. In hell, with him. Your heavenly body is his to do as he pleases, to break it, desecrate its holiness as he fucks you into submission, granting him a relief so pure, so all consuming that it shouldn’t even be allowed in hell. And they will never correct this mistake.
Some part of Alastor wishes no know never knew about how you always make a mess of yourself for him, how you gladly sprawl yourself open for him, eyes lustful and hopeful that if you let him take it out just a little more on you tonight he will send you over the edge with those two little words: good. girl. 
And what a perfect good girl you were, doe eyes always seeking for his across any room, with adoration, with barely hidden lust, with love. Such a contrast when compared to his eyes, burning red from desire, anger, lack of empathy. Red condescending eyes filled with excitement about what he is going to do to you, what he is making you endure for him.
It doesn’t make it any easier on Alastor’s painfully hard cock that you are sleeping just a door away after a rough fuck, his seed still coating your thighs.
He flicks his wrist up and down his shaft, slowly. 
Just as slow as how his cock stretched your tight cunt, inch by inch when he first took you.  You weren’t nearly as wet as you should be for the first time taking his cock but you darling thing decided to break one of his rules. Your legs desperately spreading in a futile attempt to accommodate him, the delicious fear in your eyes as you realized what you’ve gotten yourself into, completely at his mercy, enduring the pain of being broken by his monster cock. The scream you let out when he buried himself to the hilt inside you, you liked it even when it was hurting, because the pain Alastor inflicted on you was ten times better than any pleasure your silly mortal lovers had ever given you. 
The Radio Demon has a knuckle white grip on his cock now, even with hands as big as his, Alastor is having trouble fully closing his hand around the swollen member, his need to claim, to mark, to breed you strong as ever. Precum leaks for the engorged red tip and a hiss escapes his lips, the feeling of powerlessness consuming him in waves of a maddening, unprecedented carnality. The only thing the mighty demon overlord can do to mimic the divine feeling of your cunt being spreading the glossy drop around his overly sensitive tip, grip his cock even tighter as he strokes himself harder and faster, like a maniac. 
How the mighty have fallen, he thinks to himself, he’s completely cunt struck by you.
Naturally, he’s gonna make you pay for it. 
Alastor fucks himself fast and hard, trying to pic up the breakneck speed he usually does when he’s burying himself inside your heat, his grip sometimes painful. Exactly how the way he wants to be next time he fucks you.
The raw carnality consuming him is too overbearing, so overbearing he closes his burning red eyes as his brain process the severity of his situation: he found the perfect plaything, a deliciously submissive doe for him to breed until she’s numb with the feeling of his cock thrusting into her, completely filled up by his seed. It made his rut more bearable, it made his rut pleasurable, everytime he needed to scratch that primal need you’re always there, always ready to completely  submit to him, to completely ruin yourself for him. Alastor honestly thought having you always there, as fun as it was to toy with you that way, would make things better. But it actually made it worse. Because now he knows.
Oh fuck, now he knows.
More pre cum spills, running through Alastor’s claws, dripping and staining his pants, making a mess under him. But it’s not enough, because it will never be enough. It’s not your mess coating his cock, running through his claws, it’s not the sinful invitation of your wetness staining his clothes.
Realization hits him like a curse. 
His wrist flicks around his cock with a purpose: to find relief in pain. 
You’re the only thing he wants. You are the only woman he will ever want like that. You are the only one he wants to see the obscene amount of his seed dripping from a perfectly swollen red cunt. You are the only one who could possibly deserve this. Now he knows what it is like to feel, to want someone. To have an irrevocable connection. No one in heaven, hell, and all the other possible realms of creation have the right to even think of you in that way. You are his and that’s final.
Next time he takes you he will make sure you know that. 
Stroking himself erratically now, Alastor pictures you peacefully sleeping next door, luscious body sprawled on the bed like you don’t have a care in the world. He wants the first thing you feel when you open your eyes is fear. Good, you should feel scared. You should be very, very scared of what he is going to do to you. He hopes to relish in fear in your eyes as he enters your tight pussy, stretching your velvet walls apart in ways you’ve never felt before. Being obscenely broken to accommodate the girth of his rut swollen cock.
Fear, because you should be scared. Fear because you aren’t. Fear because as the realization that Alastor needs you terrifies him, the realization that you fucking love the pain of being a submissive slut to the Radio Demon will undo you, in unholy ways.
The scene of your ass on his lap, red with regret from his whipping and a symphony of your soft moans overrides his mind. You were sobbing from those little whips? He’s gonna double that. He’s gonna give you something to truly cry about. He’s gonna see you cum from the pain of being whipped into submission and his voice only. Because it is  what you deserve for making him feel like this. Because it is what you want.
He’s close now, he can tell. He’s gonna cum soon. And it is not going to be inside your pussy. Alastor is enraged about that. 
A clawed hand grips the wall besides him. He strokes himself at a merciless pace. Just as merciless as he is gonna be with you. He knows your body like the palm of the hand that is clawing the wall because of the maddening desire he has for you. He’s gonna lure you so you purposefully make a mistake. Just so you can give him the excuse to punish you into understanding that you are irrevocably his. He’s gonna take all of you as it is his right.
His cock twitches, claws scratch the posh wallpaper all the way down, he spills so much cum, all over his lap, his hand. 
The sight of Alastor’s flustered face, in post orgasmic daze after mercilessly touching himself at the thought of you is something you definitely should see. But he will never let you.
Because now his mind is clear, he knows it and delights in acceptance. You are his, his mate, his love. 
And he’s gonna take his sweet time torturing you into compliance and understanding. With pain, pleasure and all that is Alastor’s nature.
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sovietpostcards · 6 months
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hi! i really like and enjoy your blog, but this question just keeps popping up for me whenever i see some of your posts recently, which feel like youre kind of romanticising life in russia… and i know that people can choose to be apolitical etc etc, im not trying to be mean, but i was wondering what you stance is towards ukraine or just the general situation in russia (i know its also not easy there rn with the repercussions for standing up against the regime and for queer people for example…) ?
i just wanted to know if you support russia politically or if youre just choosing to show your life in there and embrace the soviet aesthetic?
i will unfollow if youre pro-putin (as is the right of anyone using any social media site) but wanted to ask first and give the benefit of the doubt since i really like some of your content and have been following for a really long time.
Hi! I'm not apolitical in real life and the current situation in the country nauseates me. However, I originally started this blog (years ago) as a safe haven and a way to look at the good things in the past that happened despite the regime and all the horrible things (that also happened). Perhaps you're right and I'm romanticizing it, but perhaps it's different for me because I know more of the context.
It was difficult for me to keep going after February 24, and for months I wasn't posting anything except an occasional ask. Eventually I started missing my safe haven and slowly started posting again. I got a lot of support messages--much more than hate or disgust--it helped me stay afloat, not only in the blog but also in life. I'm very thankful to everyone who reached out or left supportive comments.
I do love old pictures very much and the atmosphere and old things and clothes and toys, and black and white pets and animals, and random shots of a tree or a piece of bread someone thought to take 70 years ago. It connects me to previous generations--seeing that they did and loved the same things we do and love today.
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luvinescent · 7 months
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Mismatched Hearts
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Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Reader
Summary: Y/N and Robb have been friends since childhood; the two harboring feelings for one another without the others’ knowledge. When Robb’s mother makes the choice to meddle in his love life by constructing an engagement between the two—Robb is left with guilt at the belief that he has trapped her in an unwanted marriage with him because of his status. Neither one choosing to confess their feelings or address the situation; they do more harm than good towards their friendship and future marriage.
Warnings: angst angst but fluff but angst but fluff yk
Word count: 5996
Part 2/2
Previous
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The scent of roasted baby pig filled the dining room, along with the various dishes that had been laid out by the servants. Presently, a family dinner was being held between the Starks and the Y/Ns. Eddard had sought out Y/Ns father; inviting the family to their household to bond with one another. The table setting was situated with Eddard at the head of the table, his wife beside him, Robb beside her, and the rest of the Stark children (minus Jon, per Catelyn’s request). Y/N’s father sat on the other side of Eddard, her mother next to him, herself beside them, and her younger sibling sitting at the end. From her position, she sat right across from Robb. While jokes and talk was being shared between the parents, and laughter between the younger siblings; Y/N and Robb hadn’t even shared a glance at each other. Sansa was the first to crack Y/N to speak, asking her on what color she had decided for her dress.
“Oh, I haven’t even thought about that kind of stuff yet…” Y/N extended, “I guess white for traditions…maybe gold”, she answered, smiling at the young girl. Digging into her meal, Sansa scrunched up her face in enthusiasm, “I’m so excited! Soon we’ll be sisters!” Robb had let his eyes linger up from his dish and land upon Y/n as she laughed, watching Sansa and Arya now argue about “You already have a sister!” and “Well, not a good one!”. He took in her beauty, memorized by the sound of her laughter and the way she held a kind of glow in her eyes. Sensing someone was watching her, Y/N turned her head; her laughter stopped abruptly as she made eye contact with him. The two shared a long glance until it felt all too much, and they both looked back down at their plates. Both blushing immensely.
Y/N’s father patted his belly, letting out a grunt of satisfaction, “That meal was heavenly, Ed. I cannot begin to thank you for inviting my family and I into your home”, he said with her mother nodding along. Catelyn waved her hand in the air, replying in her husband’s place, “Nonsense. We are to be family soon, so a dinner is expected. I hope you saved room for dessert.” At the mention, servants began to enter the room with plates containing slices of lemon cake. Once given to each person at the table, everyone began to dig in; except for two people. Y/N stared at her slice while Robb observed her. Noticing her untouched piece, Eddard questioned the girl, “Lady Y/N, you have no appetite left in you? Or are you participating in the practice that ladies do of cutting sweets off to lose weight for your wedding?”. Y/N cringed at the comment in displeasure, but hid it behind a smile, “No, my lord. I am just not fond of sweets- “
“She hates lemon cake”, Robb announced to the table. Picking up her plate, and his, he called a servant over, “Take this back to the kitchen. Bring the lady a slice of strawberry cake instead”. The servant nodded and scurried away. Sitting back down in his seat, Robb chose to ignore all the stares that were put on him and focused his attention on only one person: Y/N. She nodded at Robb and spoke a very gently, “Thank you”. Their mothers gave each other a knowing glance as they watched their children interact. Robb cleared his throat and returned her nod, “It is alright. It would not be fair for everyone to be enjoying dessert and for you not”. The servant returned into the room, handing Robb his plate and Y/N hers. Before she could grab it, Robb took the plate from her and replaced it with his; their fingers gently brushing one another’s. “Here,” he pulled back his hand quickly as he set the plate down, “this one is a larger slice”. She thanked him once again as he continued his talk, “I know how much you enjoy your sweets”.
There was a hint of mischief in his voice that only she could hear. Y/N understood his little inside joke; referring to all those times when they would steal the baked goods from the kitchen. At their small age, it was an intense mission of trying not to get caught that involved a lot of running and tripping on their feet. In the end, they would still get caught as all Lady Catelyn had to do was follow the trail of dropped biscuits. Y/N smiled fondly at the memory and let out a small giggle; which she felt embarrassed for as now all the attention was turned on her. “Sorry,” she apologized as she must’ve looked crazy for laughing out of nowhere, “Yes. I do enjoy my sweets very much”. Robb grinned, feeling happy that she was able to notice his jest.
Smiling while staring at the two, Y/N’s father interrupted their moment, “I must thank you son. You two are not married yet and you are already acting like an attentive husband. I can rest easy knowing my daughter shall be in good hands”. Robb smiled and nodded at his words but hidden behind him were his anxious thoughts that were returning once again.
Good hands? he thought, you mean the hands that have confined her.
Eddard raised his glass of wine, with everyone else following through, “To a happy marriage and alliance”. Some moments later, after everyone had finished their dessert and wine, people began to stand and leave. Robb made quick work of heading straight towards the door but was interrupted by Y/N wrapping her hand around his forearm.
“Robb, can we please talk- “
“I’m sorry my lady but I must go”. And with that, once again, Robb left—leaving her standing there by herself.
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Since their last encounter in the dining hall, several days had transpired and not a word had been spoken between Robb and Y/N. At first, Y/N sought out Robb several times, but the male had refused her advances or hidden from her. After that, Y/N was fed up and gave him similar treatment; ignoring his presence when she passed him down the halls on her way to see his sisters and not greeting him when she saw him with Jon.
“Jon. Lovely day we’re having today.” She smiled warmly at the boy, disregarding the other who stood tall right next to him. “It is quite a lovely day, my lady”, Jon spoke, “Where are you heading off to?”. Nodding, she turned her head in the direction of the great keep, “Lady Stark has been giving me lessons on- “, ever so quickly, her eyes had darted over to Robb before returning back to his brother, “-being Lady of Winterfell. I, uh, I should get going. I’ll see you later”. And with that, she picked up the skirts of her dress and left their company. She was a few steps away when the Greyjoy boy came into view, “Theon. Hope you have a good day” and she was gone. Theon was given little time to process the greeting, returning a stuttering “Y-You t-too, my l-lady!”. Walking up to the two brothers, his eyes were bulging in disbelief, “I must have hit my head or something! That’s the first time I ever heard her call me by my first name. A lovely sound it was for my name to come out her mo- “
“Do not go all lovesick. Her hand is spoken for” Robb said annoyed with a hint of anger in his voice. Jon was also quick to notice the jealous tone that was hidden in there. He cleared his throat, staring around the castle yard, “Her hand is spoken for, you say? Yet you two have not spoken a word to one another in days”. Robb’s head turned quick and a glare was delivered to Jon that made even him slightly quiver, “Mind your business, Snow”. A stare down between the two was in motion, several seconds of pure silence gone by. Theon, still not good at reading the room, threw in his two cents and slightly laughed “You two still aren’t talking? Sounds like her hand is up for grabs to me. Maybe I should go find the lady right now and convince- “. Theon had no time to finish his banter as he found himself on the ground, in mud, having been pushed by Robb. And hard.
“Ow! You prick! I was only joking!” he exclaimed.
“Joke or not, remove such thoughts from that head of yours. As if I would ever let Y/N go with the likes of you”, Robb glared down at him fiercely.
Jon pushed his brother aside to help the Greyjoy boy to his feet, both frowning at the Stark heir. Theon grumbled in irritation, “Yeah, yeah, fine. Now look at me—I got mud all over me!”. Jon rolled his eyes, taking out the piece of cloth he has kept on him for the past weeks now, “Stop wining like a baby and use this”. Before Theon could take the item, it was confiscated by Robb. “Oh, what?! Am I not allowed to get this shit off me?!”, Theon expressed.
Staring down at the handkerchief, Robb recognized the coloring as well as the sewing of a badly stitched direwolf. “Where did you get this?” he questioned, fixating his eyes on Jon.
Jon sighed at the sight of Robb, “She gave it to me. Said to burn it but I didn’t have the heart to do it”. Robb stared down at what originally had belonged to him but had given up because of his insecurities. Ever so carefully, he caressed the fabric, turning it around and now noticing the small stitched initials in the corner. The first initial was sewed perfectly, while the second looked as though a mistake was made or a new thought had been formed. Robb knew right away that Y/N had originally sought to sew her last name initial, but changed her mind and replaced it with an S instead.
First/Initial S.
Y/N Stark.
Not being able to handle his feelings, Robb left in a hurry, taking the handkerchief with him. Jon watched as Robb left; it felt like he was seeing more of Robb’s back than he was of him entirely these days. To Jon, maybe this could finally be what can reconnect Y/N and Robb again. His thoughts were interrupted, eyes rolling as Theon yelled beside him “Hey, where you going?! While you’re at it, bring me back something to clean myself with, you cunt!”
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Finding her was never hard for Robb. Once he spotted her, walking alone down the halls, he quickly jogged up to her. “My lady,” he called out but she chose to ignore him and his repeated addresses. “My lady,” he tried once more as he finally caught up to her, standing right behind her, “Y/N”. With that, she turned ever slowly to face the oldest Stark child, hand clasped in front of her, “Yes, my lord?”. He chewed on his bottom lip and vexedly looked around, “You know I am not a Lord until my father passes down his title. Call me by my first name”. Laughing bitterly, she placed her hands upon her hips, “I can do many things —call you many things. But I just won’t do that”. He stared deeply into her eyes before pulling out his handkerchief, “Was this one of the many things you can do?”. She gaped at his palm, looking back at him in furry, “Where did you get that? How did you get that?”.
He answered her question straightforwardly, “Jon had it—said you gave it to him” he raised the cloth to show her initials, “Never mind that. Explain why you put this here”.
Angrily, she took the handkerchief out of his grasp and held it tightly against her chest, “I gave it to Jon because you said, and I quote, “I never asked you to do this and I don’t need this”, she said doing her best to deepen her voice to impersonate Robb. Before Robb could cut in, she continued “And I put that there because I wanted to give you that gift not as a friend, but as your wife. When we were to be married, I thought the best first gift I could possibly give you was my time and effort. As if any of that matters now”.
Robb locked eyes with her as he fully took in her revelations. A part of him felt jubilation that she never felt obligated to make him his gift but instead did it out of her own accord. The other part pf him felt deep anger towards himself for how he acted towards her. Taking a step closer, Robb conveyed, “What do you mean it doesn’t matter- “. Robb stopped talking abruptly as he fully took in her previous speech.
“What do you mean by when we were to be married?”.
Swallowing harshly, Y/N sheepishly looked away; not having the strength in her to look him in the eyes. “You were bound to find out by the end of the day,” she cleared her throat once more, “I spoke with my parents yesterday and I came here to speak with yours today. They agreed with my outlook on the matter and our engagement has been suspended”. Robb felt all the oxygen in him get knocked out by the words she spoke. He tried to keep his composure, but his labored breathing was something he could not control. Anguished, he mumbled “You had no right. What about my say on the matter?”
His question made Y/N turn her head rapidly and gawk at him in shock. That shock then turned to anger with her own heartbreak mixed in. Jabbing a finger in his chest, she gritted her teeth and hissed, “You’re say on the matter?!” she sucked in a breath, “I did this for you. You! All you! A little thank you would be appreciated”. Grasping her hand in his, he held it tightly as he held her fury faze, “For me?! I never asked you to do this!”
Scoffing, she pulled her hand back and slightly pushed him, “Well, it sure felt like I had too! You hardly look at me anymore, hardly speak to me or spend time with me- “, her voice cracked immensely as Robb took notice of the tears forming in her eyes, “Was the thought of marrying me that torturous?”. Robb gaped at her in confusion and in sorrow, taking a step close to her and placing a hand upon her face, “What are you talking about? Spending my life with you could never be agonizing”. Shaking her head, she pushed him once again, “You don’t have to play me for a joke Robb. I know, okay. I know you don’t want to marry me, and I understand. I’m sorry that you were put into such a situation and as your friend, I could not bear to watch you suffer so I fixed the problem. What’s done is done”.
Robb started to shake his head, raising his hands up to calm the girl, “Y/N. Please. I think we need to talk clearly. You must know that I- “
“I’m being sent to the Riverlands”.
Silence had enveloped the two; the drop of a pin could be heard. Robbs’ labored breathing had returned and more intense now. “…What?” he questioned.
Y/N stood her ground, tears still staining her face, but no emotion now present upon it. She looked lifeless as she spoke her next words. “Since my engagement to you has ended, my parents have returned to their original plans when it came to my future husband. I am to wed one of Lord Frey’s sons”. Robb lost his senses and engulfed the girl in a tight hug, “No. No, you cannot” he begged, “I’ll talk with your parents. I-I’ll make things right”. This time, Y/N didn’t push him away immediately. She basked in his warmth and security. Slowly, she placed her hands upon his chest and made some distance between the two. Emotionless, she uttered, “I have to go”, now heading towards the end of the hallway. Grabbing ahold of her forearm, Robb begged once again, “Please, Y/N! We need to talk- “
Turning around, the crushed look she held upon her face was enough to silence Robb. Raising her shaking hands, she cried out, “Please Robb, please. Do not make this hard for me. If you have any respect for me as your friend, as a human, you will let me leave. I cannot do this right now. Please”. Hearing the desperation in her voice, Robb took a step back. Y/N gave him one last glance before taking her leave. Robb watched in silence as her figure got smaller and disappeared. It was then he noticed that he had been crying the whole time as well.
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A week and a half had passed since the announcement made by House Stark and House Y/N of the annulment of their household union. Robb and Y/N were both depressed and a mess. Y/N would isolate herself in her room and would only come out when she needed to eat or bathe. She occasionally would still have to go to her septa lessons within the castle but would keep out of sight of her (ex) best friend. Robb, on the other hand, had increased his time practicing his swordsmanship and shooting. His family grew worried that he might over exhaust himself but did not know what other ways to help him. His temper and outbreaks of anger had increased vastly. So, to them; this was a great way for him to let out his frustrations and not upon them. Today, his rage was high as he had overheard his parents speak about Household Y/N beginning preparations to send Y/N away by the end of the week.
Y/N was equally displeased and terrified. She had tried her best to convince her parents not to go through with their plans (she even suggested devoting her life to the faith), but their minds were set. Rushing down the halls of Winterfell castle, she squeaked and hid behind a corner at the sound of someone’s voice. Peaking out her head, she let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Arrya Stark. Walking up the girl, she smiled and greeted her, which was returned back.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately. I’ve missed you”, Arrya spoke frowning.
Y/N winced but smiled weakly at the girl. Aside from Robb, Arrya was one of the Stark children she would spend a great deal of time with. Whether it was playing or practicing their archery together (Arrya giving her lessons instead of vice versa), they were friends as well. Patting Arrya’s head, Y/N shook her own, “I am truly sorry. I have just been…dealing with certain things. You are far too young to understand”. Arrya gave her a look of awareness, “I know about everything. Robb and you are no longer getting married, and you are going away. I think I can understand how difficult that ought to be”. Y/N gulped as the young girl continued “Robb is in shambles you know. Been a real ass to everyone lately”.
Lightly laughing, Y/N forced a smile upon her face at the mention of the man she holds deep affection for. “I’m sure he will be alright. Our friendship was something we both held dear, so it is very sad to see how much it has and will change”. Arrya shook her head vigorously, raising her eyebrows high.
“No. It’s because he loves you”.
Y/N stopped petting the girl and gave her a confused look. She then suddenly let out a loud chuckle. “I’m sure he cherishes me very much as a friend”.
Arrya continued shaking her head, trying to get the older girl to understand. “No! He does love you. Like loves LOVES you!”
Arrya wanted to bang her head against the wall at how dense Y/N was continuing to be. “This is what I mean by you being too young to understand. There is a difference between having love for a friend and having love for a lover. Robb only loves me as a friend”, Y/N returned to petting the girl.
Arrya moved away from her hand and let out a groan. “But I truly mean it. He is going crazy- “
“Would you like to go shooting with me?” Y/N interrupted the girl; choosing to ignore Arya’s previous comments of false impression. Arya was quick to change her expression of annoyance to excitement. Her mind threw out all thoughts about her older brother’s and friend’s problems and was replaced by the thoughts of one of her favorite activities. Readying herself to say yes, her smile dropped in remembrance. “I can’t,” she scowled, “I was on my way to see my mother. She’s making me take extra lessons to better my needle work”.
Y/N tsked her tongue at the statement. “That’s too bad. I really needed something to calm my thoughts”, staring down at the ground she raised her head up, “I guess I’ll just go alone”.
Arya’s eyes bulged out as she saw Y/N turn her back and walk away, “You can’t go alone. It’s dangerous!”. Y/N turned her head and waved her hand, “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine. It can’t be any more dangerous than me having to wed a Frey” she made a joke at her own troubles. “I’ll see you another day. Bye!”
Arrya waved her hand and returned her goodbye, along with a “Be safe!”. Once Y/N was out of sight, she sobbed in defeat and headed down the hall to her classes.
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At the same moment, Robb stood in the castle yard working on his own shooting. He had been doing so for hours and his aim had gone from perfect to flawed as time passed by; his thoughts continuing to run wild. At this point, he wasn’t even trying as he let go his of bow and barely made the mark.
“You missed”. Turning towards his side, Jon and Theon stood there—having been watching the Stark heir for almost an hour. This was per the request of Eddard Stark who wanted to make sure his son didn’t go mad and accidentally harm himself. He chose to ignore them and picked up another arrow; preparing his stance, he let the bow go and watched as it missed the target. “Missed again”, both boys said in unison. Robb shrugged his shoulders and went to retrieve the arrows he had thrown, “Don’t care”.
Theon watched Robb return to his stance, deciding to speak his mind. “Have you spoken to the girl?”. Jon did not even bother to hush the Greyjoy boy as even he was readying himself to ask the same question. Robb chewed his inner cheek, trying his best to control his temper, “No, I have not. I haven’t seen her around the castle, and it will be inappropriate of me to go to her home”. Theon let out a low whistle and crossed his arms, “That’s shitty”. Robb inhaled deeply as the sound of the Greyjoy boy was getting on his nerves. Before he could speak, Robb was interrupted by a young female voice.
“She was here earlier”. The trio turned and saw the youngest Stark girl come out from the shadows. Jon laughed and pointed at the girl, “Aren’t you supposed to be taking your extra lessons?”. Arrya’s face flushed as she defended herself quickly, “I was let out early”. A clear lie coming out of her mouth. “Anyway, not that matters. Y/N was here earlier—I know that she’s been coming here a few days for her septa lessons”.
Theon let out a loud cackle as he turned to Robb, “Haven’t seen her around the castle? The girl is clearly ignoring you”. Jon slightly smacked the boy upside his head to which Robb nodded at him in thanks. He returned to shooting his arrows, listening in on the other three’s conversation but not joining. Part of him wanted to quickly distract himself from thinking about Y/N and how she was purposely trying to be out of his sight. In a sense, it was the price he had to pay for doing the same to her originally. Jon ruffled up his half-sister’s hair and questioned, “And did you speak to her?”. Arrya nodded, “Yeah. Said she missed me; I told her I missed her. Blah Blah Blah. Then she left to go practice her shooting”, she scanned over the boys and eagerly spoke, “Can I please practice with you guys?”.
Robb had stood still for a second, taking in her words before sharply turning his entire body. “What do you mean she left to practice? Alone? And in the woods?”.
Both Jon and Theon tensed up and frowned as they took in the younger Starks words, realizing the implications of what she said. Arrya nodded once again, setting her sites on Robbs bow, “Yeah, alone. And I assumed so if she’s not out here with you guys”, she scanned her surroundings, “Don’t worry. She said she’d be safe. Can I practice now?”.
Robb moved quickly, grabbing his sword, and brining his bow along with him. Placing his hand upon his half-brothers’ shoulder, he spoke sternly and swiftly to him and the Greyjoy boy, “Grab a weapon and grab your horses. Split up into the woods— whoever finds her first, make sure she’s not injured and bring her back safely. Do you understand?”. Both Jon and Theon nodded, taking in their orders and seeing how Robb displayed himself as man and a future Lord. He gave them a nod and wasted no time in hurrying to his horse.
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In the midst of the woods, a gentle chill lingers in the air, a refreshing coolness that swirls among the trees. A carpet of fallen leaves crunches under the feet of Y/N as she strolls along. Her face had turned into a slight flush from the cold air and her own physical movements. She had been able to shoot a couple of arrows within the half-hour she had been there. She had no targets in mind; deciding to leave the critters of the forest at peace and chose to just aim randomly at certain tree’s. She stopped suddenly at the sound of movement coming from her side; the large bushes moving. Scrunching her face, she set her bow down and stayed low, still distancing herself slightly. Ever slowly, she extended her hand out and called out to what she assumed was a wild rabbit, “Pss pss pss. Come here little guy”. More movement continued to happen until it stopped and out from the shrub came a wild boar. Y/N’s smile dropped instantly, and her fight or flight senses kicked in; standing up from the ground immediately. The sudden movement made by her had alerted the boar; its eyes landing upon her.
Without warning, the creature charged.
With a surge of fear-fueled quickness, she dove to the side, narrowly evading the boar's razor-sharp tusks. Her bow still in her hand, Y/N was quick to shoot at the beast. From her angle on the ground, the boar was only grazed slightly on its back. Her eyes never leaving the beast as it whirled around, desperation was fueling her actions as she struggled to recover from her fall. Once again, she narrowly avoided the onslaught of the boar, lunging herself on the other side of the forest ground. One more time, she raised her bow and released; this time, the arrow impaling its backside. Y/N thought she was safe at last as the boar let out a pained squeal—but the animal was strong willed as it did not fall to the ground. Y/N actions only fueled the boar’s anger. Being caught off guard, she did not have the time to stand up again. The boar raced at her, and Y/N felt her heart drop; letting out a petrified scream as she was about to meet her fate.
That never came. To her own shock, another arrow came out of nowhere and pierced the animal. The impact diverted the boar’s trajectory, causing it steer away toward the left of Y/N; falling to the ground and succumbing to it’s injuries.
Y/N’s body trembled with the aftermath of the encounter, chest heaving with exertion and relief. Looking up, she saw her savior was Robb.
Robb, himself, was breathing heavily. He had almost witnessed the death of the woman he loves but came in time to save her. The two stared at each other for a few seconds before Robb got off his horse and ran to her. Engulfing her in a hug, still on the ground, he hushed the girl and caressed her hair as he let her sob into his chest. “Shh. You’re alright. You’re safe— I’ve got you”, he placed a kiss upon her temple. A minute or two passed before Y/N had started to settle down. Robb, taking notice, placed both hands upon her face, his eyes slightly watery, “What were you thinking?! You can’t come this deep into the forest—especially with such little defense. You could’ve gotten hurt!”. Y/N shook her head, not being allowed to speak as Robb continued, “If I was just a little bit late, I could’ve found you dead! Do you not see how much that would’ve scarred me for life?!” He finally let his tears drop.
Sobbing heavily, she apologized to her friend. “I’m sorry! I know. I know I shouldn’t have come out here alone, but I needed some time to myself. I have so much going on- “she gasped deeply “I do not want to leave for the Riverlands”. Robb looked over the girl, looking at all the bruises she had gained. “We need to get you to a maester. Come on, your parents must be worried sick about you”. He raised her up to her feet and was walking towards his horse, but Y/N did not budge from her position. Turning to face her, Robb sent her a puzzled look.
“Robb. I do not want to marry the Frey boy”.
Robb bit his lip, trying his best to suppress his own emotions and focus on his friend’s health first. “Y/N, we need to get you checked- “
“Why exactly was I a bad candidate for your future wife?”
Robb felt all the air leave him as he starred at her emotionless face. “What?” he questioned.
Y/N shook her head, continuing her maundering. “I have known you my entire life. I know your likes and dislikes. I’ve been there for your ups and downs. I share so many precious memories with you. I wish to know why you would want to settle your life with a random stranger instead of me” she said not caring how desperate and draft she sounded. “…Am I not pretty enough? Am I a terrible person to you? There were a couple times I thought you felt something for me-“
Robb interrupted her, taking a step to stand in front of her. “Hold on. I do not think such things about!”, he held her gaze, “You are the most beautiful woman I know. The word terrible can never been used in the same sentence as you”. Nodding his head, he finally confessed, “Yes. There were times I did feel something for you. I still do. That is why it would not be fair for me to marry you”.  Y/N scoffed as she took in his words, ever so confused, “What does that even mean?!”.
Robb took a step back, creating a bit of distance between the two. “I could not marry you knowing that it was against your will. My household name trapping you into saying yes. Just as you are now being forced to marry the Frey boy, you were being forced to marry me”. Y/N stared at him like he had grown a second head. She took a step forward, closing their gap once again. “Trapping? Forced?! I agreed to the union on my own accord and very happily I must say!”, she pointed a finger at him “All I ever wanted was to be with you”. Robb gaped at her; his eyes wide in disbelief. “You wanted to be with me...You wanted to marry me?”.
Nodding her head, she spoke sternly. “Yes”. Y/N’s facial expressions softed a bit, gulping air and preparing herself to speak. “…Did you not want to be with me?”.
Robb took her face into his hands, their foreheads connecting. “Yes! You’re all I have ever wanted. I have been in love with you almost my whole life”. Y/N could feel her own tears and see his as well. She smiled at Robb and spoke gently, “So have I”. The two stared at each other in awe before Y/N raised her fist and striked Robb’s chest. “Stupid! Stupid! You’re so stupid!”, she said knowing she was just as dense. “Dumb, stupid, foolish- “
Robb caught her wrist in his hands. The forest was alive, full of birds chirping and the wind rustling through the trees. But, to them, not a sound could be heard as they looked into each other eyes. Robb was the first to lean in, taking her lips in his. The kiss was slow and slightly inexperience at first. That was before Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and the two further deepened the kiss. It became very intimate and carnal instantly; deep love still hidden behind it. Y/N was the first to pull away, needing to catch her breath. Robb heaved heavily, his lips now a slight red and swollen. The two grinned at one another— Robb hand placed on her hip and the other on her cheek. “I love you”, he spoke honestly.
Y/N held back a chuckle, biting her lip as she stared lovestruck. “Now I really don’t want to marry the Frey son”.
Robb’s expression dropped, turning into a serious one as he stroked her cheek. “I’ll make things right. I will talk to the Freys, my parents— I will talk to yours. One on one. This time, I will ask for your hand without the meddling of my family”. Robb gulped, asking anxious, “…that is if you will have me”. Y/N nodded eagerly, smiling up at him, “If you’ll have me, then yes”.
“Always”.
With that, Y/N leaned in and closed the gap between their lips once more. They felt a warm, velvety feeling that flowed from their lips and sent waves of emotions coursing through their bodies. The kiss depended, a silent invitation for a more fervent connection. Robb had to decline that invitation. Pulling away, he was hit with the memory of what had just occurred a few moments ago. Looking down at Y/N, he took in all her bruises, scrapes, and dirt that covered her body.
“We still need to get you to a maester. Come on.”
Y/N groaned as Robb dragged her by the hand towards his horse, “I feel fine”. Shaking his head, Robb let out a chuckle, “We’re still in dangerous territory. Besides, that’s just all the adrenaline talking— it is bound to run out”.
Y/N gave him a mischievous smile, placing her hands on his chest and speaking quietly, “We can stay here. I can think of a few ways to keep my adrenaline pumping”. She leaned up to kiss him but was met with a flick on her forehead. “Ow”.
“Maybe another time”, he laughed, “Lets get going”. Placing her and himself upon his horse, he headed towards his home. Y/N turned her head, smiling up at him, “You looooooove me. That’s so gross”.
“Stop”.
Now aside from the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the trees, their laughter could be heard throughout the forest.
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jeankluv · 6 days
Text
The forgotten boy - Geto Suguru | Chapter 02
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words: 3,9k
summary: He made a deal with the devil, over 1,000 years ago. Just for the sake of his loved ones but the deal came with a condition. Everyone he met from now on, would forget about his existence within minutes, and will be like that for the rest of the eternity
Like that Suguru Geto has lived for the last 1000 years being forgotten but everyone he met, not being remembered by anyone and being alone.
"You remember me?"
You nodded. “Of course I do.” You smiled. “You have been coming here for a few days now. Always at the same hour and always asking for the same coffee.”
tags: angst, fluff, fantasy au, different lifetimes, dual pov, use of y/n, fem!character, modern settings but also past settings, eventual smut, destiny, characters death (in the flashbacks), blood [more tags in the future]
notes: thank you to everyone who liked and commented the first chapter 🫶 this second chapter is from the pov of y/n, some of the scenes that happened in the first chapter will be tell by y/n’s pov but we will also know more about her. Enjoy 💜
Also for those who read my other fic Birdie, the next chapter will be out this weekend. The chapter it’s a bit long so that’s why it’s taking longer.
materialist | previous chapter | next chapter
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You remember seeing him come in on the first day. It had been 10 days since the coffee shop had finally opened and both you and Yuji had been bursting at the seams with work. But you perfectly remember the man's face and sweet smile. You remembered him because in that moment when you saw his eyes, something inside you moved and began to function, as if there had been a piece that had always been missing all your life. And that at that very moment it appeared.
You had tried to get closer to him, there was something that attracted you towards him, as if gravity was pushing you to go towards him. But your hustle and frenetic pace had not allowed you.
On the third, he stayed longer so that’s when you took the courage to go to him. You walked towards him, feeling how your heart was about to come out of your chest at any minute.
“Suguru…”
You shook your head. Why was that coming to you? You kept walking and placed yourself right next to him.
“Do you want more coffee?” You saw the man salthering a bit when you spoke. You were too loud, weren't you? “I have noticed your cup is empty.” You pointed to the cup with a smile, trying to relax your nerves. “You want more?”
The man looked at his empty cup and shook his head. “No, it’s okay.”
What were you doing? He would probably tell you to fuck yourself and never come back there. "But are you sure? It’s in the house, so please accept it.” You smiled.
The man smiled back at you and handed his cup. "Alright." You took the cup between your hands and walked back to the and walked back to the counter.
Yuji immediately noticed your smile and began to pester you with questions. You had known Yuji since you were little, you had gone to school together and you even went to the same college, although different degrees and now there you were once again. You considered him a good friend, although your circle of friends was not even close, you barely knew two of his closest friends and Yuji more of the same with you. But you were grateful that he was your coworker at the coffee shop, he made everything lighter and more entertaining.
You focused your attention back on the coffee. You wanted to be able to make him coffee before the workers from the offices across the street arrived and crowded the establishment, but Yuji started telling you a story and by the time you realized it, the establishment was full and you couldn't leave Yuji alone.
You sighed with resignation and looked back at the table, he was still sitting there, so maybe if the orders were finished quickly you could go to him with his coffee.
“Here you have your order sir!” You smiled giving the last client his order.
You wiped your forehead and turned to make that coffee.
“What are you doing?” Yuji spoke behind you back.
“Preparing this coffee for a client.”
“Which client?”
You turned to look at Yuji and pointed to him. “The one sat on…” He was gone. “He left…”
“There was someone there?” Yuji titled his head.
“Yeah. That cute guy with long black hair and piercings.” Yuji looked at you with confusion. “He comes everyday. I promised him I was going to invite him to a coffee but…” You sighed. “There were too many clients.”
“Well don’t worry, just invite him tomorrow. If he comes back.” Yuji smiled at you.
You nodded and smiled back. That was what you were going to do, you were going to invite him for coffee and maybe try to get to know him better. There was something that made you very curious and you wanted to know more about it.
You spent the next two hours serving customers and clearing tables, until you and Yuji closed. You said goodbye to Yuji upon arriving at the subway stop, as each of you went in opposite directions. You sat in one of the free seats and looked at the views of the city, it was beautiful.
You couldn't stop thinking about the young man in the coffee shop. There was something about him that attracted you so much. You rummaged in your bag and took out an old notebook and a pen and began to draw the silhouette of the young man drinking coffee in the coffee shop. His long, black hair, straight nose, strong jaw and the two earrings, each one in his ear. But then the elegant, almost classic style you could say. They gave it a touch of mystery, timelessness, and intrigue.
Tomorrow you would definitely not miss the opportunity, You would talk to him. Shit you would even take courage and ask for his phone number. Yes, definitely you would do that.
You looked at the drawing, it didn't do justice to how beautiful he looked in person. You closed the notebook when you heard your stop and left the station straight to your house.
Opening the door to your apartment you were greeted by your cat, Blue. You moved to your own apartment after finishing the third year of your career, already three years ago. You used to like sharing dorms but you needed your space.
But the first few weeks you felt lonely, so you adopted Blue, your cat. Blue was still a baby when you adopted her, all her siblings were adopted before her because she was a black cat. But the first moment you saw Blue you knew it was going to be yours. And since then you have been living on your own with Blue.
You sat down on your coach and grabbed your phone from your bag, hoping there would be an email from one of the thousands of jobs applications you sent. But your inbox was the same as yesterday, nothing new.
“Blue.” You looked at your cat, climbing next to you. “Do you think I will be able to work as an artist one day?” Blue purred, stroking her head against your hand. “That’s right, I need to hold some faith, right?” Blue looked at you with those big blue eyes. “And the coffee shop is not that bad. Is great having Yuji with me and you know Blue.” You grabbed her and put her on your lap. “There is a really interesting man coming every single day. Tomorrow I will ask him for his phone number.” You nobbed for yourself .
You laid back with Blue on you and closed your eyes, feeling how sleep was taking over you and the warmth of Blue on top of you helped you to fall asleep in minutes.
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“You think we are soulmates?” You smiled wildly. You were looking at a face, a faceless one. But you could tell it was smiling. A smile that was making your heart flush.
“We are.” The faceless person spoke.
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“Your drawings are exceptional.” Again the faceless person spoke.
“Thank you. But I doubt anyone would be interested in buying them.” You looked at the portrait.
“I would buy them.”
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“It seems I can’t fulfill my promise after all.” You whispered, feeling how your life was coming to your end.
“Please, my love, just hold on.” The faceless person embraced her. “Stay with me. Stay.”
“I’m sorry…”
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You woke up startled and with the heart pumping on your ears. It had been a while since those dreams with that faceless person had occurred. Why did they suddenly come back?
You looked outside the window and you could see that it was already dark, had you slept that long? You hadn't felt it that way. You sat up on the couch and sighed. For years when you were little you had recurring nightmares, so much so that your parents sought help, but found absolutely nothing. When you were about 15 years old those nightmares disappeared or at least they were not as recurring as they used to be and if you had them you did not remember them as vivid as you had felt now.
Your tummy rumbled, letting you know that it was time for dinner. You actually had fallen asleep more than you would have liked. Dragging your feet to the kitchen, you opened the refrigerator and to the surprise of no one's, you just had some apples and an egg carton with only two eggs. You sighed to yourself and closed the refrigerator.
“Should I order something to eat?” You asked for yourself. “Or maybe call Utahime and meet her?”
Blue tilted her head, to which you laughed knowing she couldn’t understand a thing of what you were saying. You rubbed her head and walked to where your phone was, searching for the name of Utahime. You pressed call and waited a bit for your best friend. You knew Utahime would pick up, she always did and if she didn’t it was because an emergency was occurring and she couldn’t answer.
“Hello my beloved!” You heard on the other side of the line.
“Hello my princess!” You replied using the nickname you liked to use for her. “Are you free?” You listened as Utahime hummed on the other end of the line. “Would you like to go to dinner at the new restaurant that has opened near my house? It’s on me."
“Sure!” Utahime replied. “I will be there in like 15 minutes, I was shopping nearby so it won’t take me long.”
“You bought new clothes?”
“Of course I did.” You heard the sound of bags moving. “You will love them, you will see.”
“Can’t wait. I will see you there.”
“Okay, bye!”
“Bye!”
You left your phone on the kitchen table and walked to your room to change. You looked in the closet for a long skirt and a sweater. It was already spring, but the nights were still cold. You put your makeup back on and smiled to yourself in the mirror. You walked to the kitchen and grabbed your cell phone from the table, saying goodbye to Blue.
"Behave well. Mom will be back in a while.” Your cat meowed back and nuzzled your hand with her head.
Leaving your house you walked to the new restaurant that was opened a month ago. You, along with Utahime, Shoko and Yuki, loved meeting up to have dinner or a drink and then go to karaoke. But this week Shoko was full of work at the hospital, putting in non-stop hours and Yuki had traveled abroad again. So today would be a night just for you and Utahime.
You had met Utahime in high school, you were put together for a task and you had become practically neck and neck, later you met Shoko and finally Yuki joined. The four of you had become extremely close, so much so that in class you always ended up in detention for chatting. But to tell the truth, you didn't care at all.
Entering the restaurant you asked for a table for two, luckily you were placed at the tables that had armchairs. Utahime always said that these types of seats were much better than regular chairs, because in the end they left your butt sore.
You looked through the menu while waiting for your friend to arrive. Your mouth was actually watering just looking at the names of the dishes.
“Y/n!” You heard on the entrance. There she was, your best friend, wearing dark sunglasses, although it had been dark for a long time, and a face mask. Many times you wondered if this would draw less attention or attract more attention.
“Hime!” You waved at her and she rushed to sit in front of you. “You really bought!” You said looking at the bags.
“What can I do? I got paid and my heart was screaming.” She made a sad face. “I bought so many cute dresses!” She showed you a blueish dress with a ribbon on the back. “Cute right?”
“It’s just your style.” You smiled.
“I know.” She said excitedly. “But now tell me, how is your job in the new coffee shop going?”
“It’s interesting, I like it.”
“I remember back in college you saying how much you loved going to the old coffee shop that was nearby for the smell of the coffee.”
“And it’s true, the smell is so nice.” You pointed out.
“It’s good to hear you are doing okay.” She grabbed the menu. “And if you want, you can always work for me, I would love to have you on my team. All your paintings are just breathtaking.” She encouraged you.
“I know, but I want to achieve it on my own. But still appreciate your proposal” You sighed.
She nodded and looked back at the menu. “Oh!” She opened her eyes wildly. “Let’s try this!” She pointed at the menu.
“Looks nice.”
“Right?!” She called the waitress and ordered for both of you. “By the way.” You looked at her. “Have you noticed Yuki’s attitude lately?”
“Hmm.” You shook your head. “Something happened to her?”
“I think she is seeing someone.” You opened your eyes in surprise. “Lately she has been glowing so much. Let me tell you something y/n you only get that look when you are in love with someone.”
“Do you for real think Yuki is seeing someone?” Utahime nodded. “What kind of person do you think they are?”
“No idea, but I’m sure Yuki chose correctly.”
The order came and you both thanked the waitress and started eating your dinner.
“By the way.” You spoke, swallowing the piece you just ate. “How was your last date with the guy?”
“Don’t.” Utahime cut you off. “Don’t ever mention that date or that guy. My agency thought it would be a good idea for both of us to go out on a date, and you know get publicity because he is an actor, I’m a singer and you know all that. But ugh, he got on my nerves.”
“Was it that bad?”
“The word bad is too nice to describe it.”
The two of you continued chatting and eating until finally you were only left with the glass of wine on the table. Utahime insisted on going to bars at night now, because you were young and you deserved it. But you reminded her that tomorrow you had to get up early to open the coffee shop and Utahime stopped insisting.
You paid the bill and the two of you left the establishment, although Utahime used to drink and tolerated alcohol well today it seemed that had not been the case, seeing how she moved from one side to the other.
“Stay with me today.” You said grabbing her to which she nodded.
You entered your apartment with Utahime, being greeted by Blue as she always did. You gave Utahime a glass of water and then settled her on your bed. She had really gone too far with the drinks. You smiled when you saw how she was sleeping. She was lucky no one had met her, Utahime was a singer. And a pretty well-known singer to tell the truth. She was discovered by a talent scout years ago and had not stopped working since then.
You lay down next to Utahime and told yourself again that you would achieve your dream on your own. You would make it. You appreciated Utahime's offer but you wanted to do it yourself.
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You left the note on the table and rushed to the coffee shop. The alarm hadn't gone off and now you were running through the city because you were going to be late. You had to hurry the first hours and the first hours in the morning were always the busiest and you couldn't leave Yuji alone tending the place.
“Just on time.” Yuji smiled, opening the door for you.
“Thank you.” You said trying to catch your breath. “The metro wasn’t very crowded so I was able to make it on time.”
“What happened?”
“I went out with a friend yesterday and the alarm didn’t rang.” You grimaced. “But luckily my biological clock woke me up.” You looked at him and noticed his tired eyes. “Were you playing video games all night again?”
Yuji scratched his head and laughed. “Megumi and I wanted to try a new video game that came out yesterday and we spent all night playing.” He took the apron that was hanging on the coat rack and put it on. “But I'm perfect! Today is going to be a great day right y/n?”
“If you say so.” You smiled at him and also put on the apron.
You turned the sign at the entrance and you and Yuji began to serve the first customers, little by little the coffee shop filled up and before you realized it was packed and you were walking around from one side to the other. Taking orders and serving them. By the time you tried to blink, 3 hours had already passed.
You looked around searching for a specific person in the place. You heart skipped when you saw him again, sat on the same place, wearing a similar outfit and again with the man bun on.
“Who is that coffee for?” You asked Yuji.
“Huh?” He turned the paper around. “It says Kento.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Kento? I don’t know who…”
“I know who he is.” You grabbed the coffee. “I will give it to him. Don’t worry.” Yuji nodded and went back to taking a new order.
You took a deep breath and started walking towards the table where he used to sit. Next to the window. It had good views, you could see the main avenue and how people were hustling from one side to the other. During the days that you had seen him, you had noticed that he used to spend long periods there, reading the newspaper and looking out the window. But always alone. You wondered if he had anyone to share a coffee or a chat with.
Your hands shook the closer you got to the table. You should breathe, just talk to him a little and maybe ask for his number. But without looking crazy.
You cleared your throat before setting the coffee down on the table and smiling at him. “Here.” He looked at you with a surprised look on his face. “I’m sorry for yesterday. I got busy with my coworker Yuji and when I was going to give you your order, you were already gone.” You explained. “That’s why, this one is on me.”
He still didn't say a word. You noticed how he got paler after those words left your lips. Was he okay?
“Is everything okay?” You tilted you head looking at him with curiosity.
“You…” He swallowed, trying to moisten his dry throat. "You remember me?"
You nodded. “Of course I do.” You smiled. “You have been coming here for a few days now. Always at the same hour and always asking for the same coffee.”
Why was he so surprised? You couldn’t understand it but he didn’t look okay.
“You are okay?” You moved closer to him with clear concern on your face.
“I…” He tried to catch his breath, he felt like he was out of breath and in any moment he was going to pass out.
“Hey!” You touched his shoulder and kneeled in front of him. “Tried to follow my breathing okay?” He nodded. And followed your instructions.
“Thank you.” He whispered.
“It’s nothing, but you scared me.” You stood back up. “Kento…”
He looked at you, with a look that you could tell he was confused but then relieved. “Yeah, that’s me… You haven’t told me your name.”
“Y/n.” You said with a smile.
You heard your name being called by Yuji. Shit. Your time was over and you didn’t even get a chance to ask his number but almost gave him a panic attack.
“I’m coming Yuji!” You shouted and turned around to look at him once again. “My coworker is calling me. But stay here as much as you want.”
“I will.” He said your name once again to say goodbye.
“Bye Kento!”
You could die if you heard him pronounce your name one more time. It was so elegant and subtle. You got to Yuji and he looked at you with a face like “what's wrong with you?” to which you tried to ignore him and continue with the work.
Once the clients decreased you started cleaning the area, you needed to be active or you would go absolutely crazy. You heard Yuji talking to someone, so you decided to look over his shoulder. To see Kento in front of the counter talking to Yuji. Instinctively you smiled and stopped what you were doing to go there.
“Oh Kento!” You approached them with a smile.
“Hi.” He whispered only you were able to hear him.
“Y/n, you know him?” The boy wondered.
“Yeah! He comes here every single day, at the same hour and orders the same thing.” You kept on looking at him. “You literally attended to him all these days!”
“Did I?” He titled his head. “I’m sorry I can’t remember.”
“Don’t worry.” He smiled. “A lot of people come here, it’s normal that you don’t remember me.”
“With that face it is hard to forget about you…” You whispered for yourself.
Or maybe it wasn’t for yourself. Shit.
“Oh.” You covered your mouth. “Did I say that out loud?” He nodded. “Sorry! That was very inappropriate! But I think it’s true…You are really handsome and a face like yours is not easy to forget.”
“Thank you. I think you are the first person that has ever told me that.” You nervously looked around, trying to hide somewhere after what you said. You were so stupid. “I wanted to talk with you.” You looked back at him. “If you have time.”
You looked around and nodded. “Yeah, there isn’t a lot of people around, so it’s fine.” You walked to the side, so you wouldn’t disturb the people. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I was wondering when do you finish your shift.”
You opened your mouth, forming an O in surprise. “In…” You thought for a moment. “An hour and a half.”
“Great.” He nodded. “Then I would like to invite you to a coffee, if that’s okay with you of course.”
“I…” You were going crazy, was he asking you out? Oh my god .
“Sorry, I probably made you uncomfortable.”
“No, no it’s not that.” You shook your head. “We can go and grab a coffee without a problem.” That made Kento smile. “But I will have to leave early, I have other things to take care of.” He nodded.
“It’s fine by me.”
“Then… I will see you once my shift is over.”
“Alright.”
Did you have a date? You had a date in less than two hours. You wanted to scream and dance, but you had to behave after all you were at work. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Or by God, what was happening to you, you were really happy.
“Suguru.”
You stopped dead and touched your head, that name and that headache again. What was the name Su… Sug… damn you had forgotten, again.
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infinitydivine · 3 months
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Baby, you light up my world like nobody else!!!! 💜💜💜PAC reading- How do you light up everyone's life? ✨
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Hello everyone, I am back again with a new PAC reading. Thank you all for loving my previous PAC, I appreciate it.
*This reading is just for entertainment purposes*
Please leave feedback as comments reblogs, or Asks. It helps me to improve myself. And if you want you can tip/book reading with me because I am saving up for further education.
Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are two Piles.
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PILE1 PILE 2
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(●'◡'●)Hello Pile 1 and Welcome to the reading (●'◡'●)
From Gateway Oracle cards- Mending Bridges, Giving Birth, and Stepping into Stillness
Pile 1, you are a natural-born healer. You are the bridge that connects people. You are a natural diplomat who can solve any problem with diplomacy. You are a mender. You help others mend bridges in their lives. But there are wounds inside of you that need to be forgiven too. You are a creative person who has a soul and mind full of different ideas. I am also getting empath vibes here too. There is something about your ideas and thoughts that helps people a lot without you even knowing. I didn't do Tarot for this reading but I am seeing the Sun tarot card here for this pile. Words are not enough to describe how people are genuinely thankful to you for being there in their lives. You are not a dramatic person and you like to stay away from them as much as you can. You avoid dramatic confrontations too and would like to resolve a situation by peaceful methods. Your approach to life is very practical. (I am getting chills for this pile but the windy one). I am getting a lot of calmer vibes here, some of you might have prominent water placements in your chart, especially Pisces. You handle situations very well and you are an old soul too. You are wise beyond your age and people might often come to you for your pieces of advice and solutions.
Thank you for your support ✨
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(●'◡'●)Hello Pile 2 and Welcome to the reading (●'◡'●)
From Gateway Oracle cards- Igniting Courage, Revealing radiance and Expecting Miracle
Pile 2, you are the Magician Tarot card. The one who can manifest things easily for yourself and for the people around you too. You are strong, valiant, and courageous. I think you guys are someone who fights for social justice for example if someone is getting bullied you will not just stand there and watch. You will step out and speak against it. You believe in change and the quote "change starts from within". You are a firm believer in "doing" things. Your fearlessness is what makes people attracted to you more. Your positive light shines from within and people can just see it. Although they might not know what is it about you that makes you so extraordinary, they are attracted to you just like a moth to the flame. You are a light bearer for others. There is something about your aura that stands out most to me. It illuminates others and brings light to the darkness. Your radiance also acts as a sacred beacon that calls the bounty and support of the Universe to you. Some may even call you "Miracles of their lives" because you might have helped them when they were struggling to get them out of their darkness. You don't hold yourself back when you are expressing yourself and it is very impressive to others. People around you might even think of you as their role model or someone to whom they can look up to.
Thank you for your support ✨
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