#yelling at me in my own voice. I’d understand if it was mom’s or dad’s or grandma’s but it’s not. I was always my own worst enemy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yikesharringrove · 1 year

Text

He didn’t mean to hightail it straight to the nearest bar. He didn’t even know what a dive bar a was doing out in the fucking backwoods of Indiana, anyway.

Billy’d just gotten in a big fuckin’ fight with his old man, shimmied out the window of their new house, and started walking.

And he happened across a bar.

He didn’t have his wallet on him, rookie move, but he figured his black eye and three-day-old moving stubble might help him out a bit here.

The bouncer gave him an odd look, glaring him down as he approached, but let him pass without asking for identification.

There were motorcycles parked in the gravel lot, along with some sensible looking Mom Cars.

It was dim inside, and the floor was kinda sticky, but they were playing Patti Smith on a shitty jukebox, so he decided to stay.

He took a seat at the bar.

The bartender gave him the same funny look the bouncer did. She was one hell of a woman, her leather jacket had a pair of handcuffs sewn onto the front, she had her nose, lips, and eyebrows pierced. Her hair was greying and cropped into a very similar crew cut to Neil’s.

“What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey, please. And maybe a beer, Darling.” He winked.

She laughed.

“Honey, you know where you are, right? This is a fuckin’ dyke bar, and you’re no older than sixteen. You’ll have a pop and you’ll be grateful for it.” She had a slight southern drawl to her voice. Texas. Like his mom.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, quit it with that shit.” She scooped ice into a glass, and poured him a cola from the well. “Why you here? It got somethin’ to do with that shiner?”

He took a long drink of the soda.

He didn’t know if it was her voice, or the fact that for the first time in a long time, he was with his own people.

“Yeah.”

“Someone at home?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Cause you’re a homo?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled at him, although this one wasn’t the sad one he’d been expecting. It was understanding.

“We’ll, Baby. You come here if you ever need a safe place to roost, okay? We all know when one of our own needs saving. You come here, and you ask for Susan, and we’ll get your mind off that bruise.”

He took another long drink of his soda, but this time, to try and swallow down the stupid sob that was trying to force its way out.

“Thank you. I’m, I didn’t realize what kind of bar this is. I didn’t really know that people like us were out here. My dad, he, uh, moved us here. From California. He caught me with a boy.” He averted his gaze from Susan’s face, making patterns in the condensation on the side of his glass. Patti Smith turned over to The Runaways. Some women were dancing by the jukebox now. “He told me we were coming here so I couldn’t do any of that fairy shit.” He furrowed his brow on the last line, puffing up his chest in an imitation of his father.

“Just because people hate us more here, doesn’t mean we don’t exist. Queers live everywhere, whether people like your daddy like it or not. He can’t stop us from living any better than he can stop the sun from rising.”

Susan scooped some ice into a clean bar towel, securing it closed with the yellow crunchy around her wrist. She slid it across the bar to Billy, and he put it on his eye gratefully.

“Don’t lose that scrunchy. That’s my wife’s favorite one, and she won’t speak to me for a month if I give it to some kid.”

“Yeah? Your old lady a hardass?” Billy grinned.

There was something, so fucking good, about talking to Susan. Talking to an actual fucking grown up. Someone with a life, and a partner. A queer, like him, who actually found love. And, by the dreamy grin on her face, had found happiness.

“Hollie would yell herself hoarse is she heard you call her old. She don’t look a day over thirty-five, she’ll tell you. We’ve been together for over twenty years. That’s why she’s my wife. We can’t get married yet, but she’s not my fucking girlfriend. We’re not silly high schoolers goin’ to the prom, and shit. No offense.”

“Nah, I may be a silly high schooler, but I’d rather be dead than go to any prom. Especially with a girl. No offense.”

“Hey, you’re in my bar, and we don’t allow bad talk about women. Unless you ex-girl fucked you over. Then we talk a whole lotta shit.” She refilled Billy’s soda. “But you could always go with a friend.”

“I’ve lived in this town for four days, I don’t have any friends, let alone a beard. Maybe if I did, my dad wouldn’t’ve popped me tonight.”

Susan’s smile faltered a little bit.

“Sweetie, I don’t like to interfere. And I know that most of the time, getting CPS involved makes it worse. But Baby, are you safe? I know he hits you, but do you think he’d-” she trailed off. “I’ve just seen some shit, you know? Boys like you with fathers like yours. Boys that didn’t survive.”

“Everything my dad does, is because he’s scared of how people see him. He’s terrified that people won’t think he’s a great father or a respectable citizen. I don’t think he’d get that low.”

But, in truth, Billy didn’t know.

He’s been getting hits from his dad since he was a kid. And there are times when Billy had thought well, this is it.

But Susan was right. CPS never did anything but piss off his dad.

Susan looked thoughtful.

She grabbed a napkin, and pulled a pen out of her leather jacket.

“I’m giving you the number here. You call if you need anything. We take care of our own, okay?” He nodded in response. “Finish your pop, and get back on home. I’m sure you have a curfew to mind.”

Billy winced, looking up at Susan, feeling like such shit after her kindness.

“I don’t have my wallet.”

“Yeah, you don’t have shoes on either, Dumbass.” She winked at him again. “Holl!” She shouted towards the group of women dancing by the jukebox. “This little birdie needs a ride!”

A short woman came drifting over. Her hair was dark black, and swept clear below her ass. She could’ve sat on it and not noticed.

The scrunchy made sense.

She was short, much shorter than Susan, but she beamed up at her, turning to smile just as warmly at Billy.

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Billy.”

It was kind of nice, being called terms of endearment by these two women. He liked that they weren’t trying to pull one over on him. He felt safe.

Susan slid a set of keys to Hollie.

“Take Billy home, please. We don��t need him walking around outside.”

Hollie ushered Billy out of his seat, climbing in the stool herself to lean over the bar. She and Susan kissed over the bar, and that funny hopeful feeling washed over Billy again.

“You’re welcome here whenever you want, Baby. You’re not the first little gay boy we’ve had in here, and you won’t be the last. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you, seriously, I-thank you.”

Susan beamed at him, sliding Hollie’s yellow scrunchy back in her wrist.

#Susan is based of a real person and she’s the most specialist to me #billy hargrove #yikes writes

208 notes · View notes

corruptedcaps · 2 years

Text

Wolf in sheep’s clothing

Tanya stared at her phone, scrolling through the pictures on Instagram of her classmates hanging out with their friends. She sighed and put her phone down, feeling the familiar pang of loneliness. She was friendless, unpopular, and an outcast at school. No one seemed to understand her or want to be her friend.

Her mom, Isabella, was unsympathetic. Isabella was the complete opposite of Tanya. She was popular, beautiful, and confident, but she had a cruel streak bigger than any girl at Tanya’s school. She would often chastise Tanya for wasting her youth and not trying harder to fit in.

One evening, as they were getting ready for bed, Isabella started again. "You're never going to make any friends if you don't try and pretty yourself up, Tanya. You're wasting your life being a loser loner."

Tanya felt the anger rising in her chest. "It's not so easy being me," she repeated. “I’m a sheep at a school full of wolves!”

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Please, Tanya don’t be so dramatic. If I were you I’d have that school under my heel in a day."

Tanya's eyes widened in anger. "Well I’m not you ok," she said, her voice rising. "Besides what would you know about struggling? You’re just living off dad’s money after the divorce, money that you used to become a plastic fake slut. Your life is as easy as you are.”

Isabella's face turned red with anger. "How dare you talk to me like that!" she shouted. "I'm your mother, and you will respect me."

Tanya's lip trembled wanting to say more but she instead ran up to her bedroom and shut the door. She couldn't help but feel more alone than ever.

But she was more angered by her mom than sad and took out the one thing that she knew could teach her a lesson. Taking out the necklace from the hidden spot she had put it in, she momentarily hesitated before slipping it on. She had sworn to herself to never use it since finding out about it’s ability but she was just so mad that she didn’t care anymore.

The next morning, Tanya woke up feeling disoriented, which she expected. As she sat up, she looked around the room and grinned as she saw it was her mothers room. It had worked. Standing up she looked in the mirror to confirm that she had swapped bodies with Isabella.

As if on cue she heard her own voice yell from down the hall. Smiling she sauntered our into the hallway where she say her mother, in her body, rushing up to her.

“What the hell did you do?” Isabella spat as a triumphant Tanya snatched the necklace from her neck.

“Showing you that being me isn’t so easy. Don’t worry it’s not permanent. You said you only needed a day to get the school under your heel, well now is your chance to prove it. Time to get ready for ‘daughter’.” Tanya she said with a smirk.

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Please, Tanya. Being popular is easy. It just takes confidence and a little bit of effort."

Looking in the mirror at her new body though, Isabella added, “Maybe a bit more effort than usual.”

Isabella begrudgingly made her way to Tanya's closet, looking for something to wear. As she scanned the racks of clothes, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. She had a feeling this was going to be a long day.

Isabella rummaged through Tanya's closet until she found a big red flannel shirt, a remnant of Tanya’s ‘fat’ phase. Isabella couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at the thought of wearing it herself.

As she looked at the outfit though, she realized that while it was too big and modest for her liking she could make it work with a few alterations. She grabbed a pair of scissors and got to work, modifying it to be a dress, something much more to her liking. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel a little pleased with the results.

Combining the dress with some makeup and and a hairbrush and she looked like a new woman.

Tanya's jaw dropped as she saw how Isabella had modified her outfit. "What are you wearing? You can't go to school dressed like that! I look like some stuck up bitch. I won't allow it," she said with a scowl.

Isabella just laughed. "What are you going to do? Ground me? See you later, 'mom'," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Tanya shook her head in frustration. She couldn't believe how irresponsible her mother was being. But she knew that it was better in the long run that she experience what she does every day first hand. She just hoped that Isabella wouldn't cause too much trouble in her body.

Tanya reluctantly made her way over to her mother's closet to find something to wear. As she scanned the racks of clothes, she realized that nothing was her style. Everything was tight fitting and revealing. She had to wear something and so picked the most modest dress you found.

As she slipped into the dress, she couldn't help but feel good. The dress clung to her body in all the right ways. While it wasn’t something she’d ever wear, it looked perfect on her mothers body. Maybe looking good wasn't so bad after all, she thought. She twirled in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress hugged her curves.

Tanya felt surprisingly confident in her mother's older body, there was a certain relief in looking as hot as she now was. Her plastic surgery over the years made her body a wet dream to most men and it felt good to have that power at her fingertips now. As she was admiring herself in the mirror, she heard a knock on the front door.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should answer it. But then she remembered that she was in her mother's body, and that she needed to act as if everything was normal.

She made her way to the front door and opened it to find the handsome pool boy, Carlos, standing there. Tanya had stolen many glances over the months he had been employed but he didn’t even know she was existed. Now however his face lit up seeing her, or more accurately seeing her mother.

"Hello Isabella, you are looking lovely as always today," he said, giving her a charming smile.

Tanya felt a flutter in her chest at the sight of him. She couldn't believe how handsome he was up close. "Hi, Carlos," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Carlos leaned against the doorway, looking at her with interest. "You look different today. Did you do something with your hair?"

Tanya tried to hide her blushing, feeling flattered by his attention. She needed to act like Isabella would. "Something like that. Why, do you like it?"

Carlos grinned. "I like everything about you, Isabella," he said, his eyes sparkling.

Tanya felt her heart skip a beat at his words. She couldn't believe how easy it was to flirt with him. She could feel his eyes drink her in and she knew she held all the cards.

Meanwhile Isabella strutted into the school, feeling the attention she dressed for as she walked down the hallway. She was used to people looking at her in her own body but there was a weird thrill she was getting from people doing the same in her daughters more youthful body.

She saw a group of girls whispering to each other and pointing at her. She couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. This wasn't so hard, and it was actually enjoyable, she thought to herself.

As Isabella was basking in the attention of her peers, she walked into the bathroom and was immediately confronted by Tanya's bully Bianca and her bitchy clique.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to dress up for school today," Bianca sneered.

Isabella for her part stayed stone faced. She had dealt with enough mean girl wannabes in her life like Bianca to know how to handle her, how to destroy them and how to take what they had. Her own years of being the queen of mean allowed her to look at Bianca and pinpoint her insecurities in an instant, certainly enough to win this battle but Isabella hand an extra card up her sleeve, enough to take this bitch down for good.

"Well, at least I don't have a mother who gambles away our entire savings," Isabella retorted with a smirk.

Bianca's face twisted with anger. "What did you say?" she spat.

Isabella was a gossip hound in town and always knew the ins and out of every family. She used that knowledge, and her bitchy attitude, to climb the social ladder over years. No one dared cross her anymore and she liked it that way but as a result she didn’t get to undermine and belittle others like she used to. She missed it. Now however that knowledge and attitude was inside the body of her 18 year old daughter and she was ready to stretch her bitchy muscles again.

“Oh sorry that’s your dad, isn’t it?,” Isabella said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your mom is the one with the drinking problem. Maybe if you had parents who cared about you, you wouldn't be so desperate for attention."

Bianca’s friends started to look at their leader with uncertainty as she failed to retort to Isabella’s words. Isabella for her part felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as she continued to put Bianca in her place.

As Isabella delivered one final insult, Bianca pushed past her and ran away out of the bathroom in tears. Bianca’s friends stood there in shock. Isabella readied herself to deliver some crushing comments to them when one suddenly piped up.

“Oh my god that was… amazing!” She said.

“We never knew you had it in you Tanya.” Another added.

“We were only friends with her because we were afraid of her," one of them said, while the others nodded in agreement.

“Oh?” And you aren’t afraid of me?” Isabella said suddenly staring at them with piercing eyes. Gone was the girl they thought they knew. No this was someone new, someone not to be messed with.

“N-no of course. We’re all scared of you. Isn’t that right girls?” One of them quickly replied as the rest hastily nodded their heads.

Isabella couldn't help but feel elated at their cowardice. In her own body she was used to people fearing her but the idea that others were now afraid of her in her daughters youthful and innocent body was strangely satisfying.

"Well, you should be," Isabella replied confidently. "There’s a new queen in town.”

The former friends again nodded in agreement before saying. “Can we hang out with you instead?"

Isabella looked at them coldly, taking a moment to enjoy their fear. She loved the idea of them being desperate for her friendship.

"If you must," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Bianca’s former friends beamed with excitement, and Isabella couldn't help but feel a sense of power wash over her.

Tanya meanwhile couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as she watched Carlos work. She had never felt this kind of power before, and it was a feeling she never wanted to let go. She couldn't believe that she was the one who was causing him to pause and glance over at her every so often.

Tanya loved the attention, and she basked in the glow of it. She knew that she looked amazing in her mother's clothes, and the effect she was having on Carlos only added to the excitement. For the first time in a long time, Tanya felt like she was in control, and it was a feeling that she wanted to hold onto for as long as she could.

Tanya felt a sudden pang of guilt as Carlos approached her. In her mother's body, she had been acting brash and self-assured, but now she felt like she was pretending to be someone she wasn't. She remembered what it was like to be unpopular and friendless, and she didn't want to lose sight of that.

And yet when Carlos said he was finishing up for the day and asked if she needed anything else she felt his hungry eyes on her like no one had before. She felt wanted. No she felt desired. It was intoxicating. Her mind was exploding with the possibilities of what she could do, what she needed to do. After all it’s what Isabella would do.

"Actually," she said, biting her lip, "I was thinking that maybe you could stick around for a little while longer. I'm sure we can find something for you to do." Carlos nodded eagerly, and Tanya can't help but feel a rush of lust at his eagerness.

Back at school Isabella was hidden between the various backdrops of the drama department. Isabella wasn’t to know that Tanya frequented the exact same spot almost daily, her little escape from the rest of the student body. However Isabella wasn’t alone like her daughter usually was, and far from running from the student body, she had one pushed up against hers. Namely Bianca’s boyfriend Sam.

She had already made him cum twice and she had barely done more than graze his dick. In between kisses, Sam said, "Wow, you’re amazing! How are you so hot?”

Isabella pulled away, grinning, "Years of practice babe.

Sam laughed and pulled her back in for more not knowing the true extent of her words. Isabella thought to herself that she was enjoying this new version of herself. Her talents were wasted on the small time drama of her neighborhood. The married men who were desperate for anyone outside of their marriages.

Here though, there was more of a challenge, especially being in Tanya’s body. Isabella however was a skilled manipulator and seductress and had Sam eating out the palm of her hand in no time. After she had taken Bianca’s friends it only made sense she take his man but she wanted to have some fun doing it. Just as she felt Sam gearing up to cum again she stopped him purposefully.

“Ah ah, that’s enough for now. Until your my boyfriend you don’t get to cum again.” She said with a smirk as she pushed him away.

“I’ll break up with her right now.” He said taking out his phone, desperate. Isabella put her finger on the sleep button however.

“Not yet handsome, I want you to continue to date her for awhile and see me on the side.” She said running her finger along his face making him shudder.

“W-why? I’ll dump that loser right now. I want you Tanya.” He said almost begging. Isabella loved it.

“Because I want this to break her so she is permanently broken. No one crosses me and gets away with it. Besides I don’t want everyone knowing I’m the new big bad in school just yet. I’m just innocent little Tanya.” She replied with a fake flutter of her eyelashes.

“Wow you’re a cold hearted bitch.” Sam replied in equal reverence and fear.

“You love it.” She said stoking the outline of his cock through his pants and he shivered again giving her no end of delight. She pushed him out of the drama department disappointed but she knew it was the right thing to do for now.

Tanya had been right, that her school was full of wolves but for now Isabella was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Once she took down the other wolves she would reveal herself and then she would reign supreme. Or rather Tanya would.

Taking out her phone she snapped a picture of herself and looked at it. It no longer looked foreign to her seeing her daughter staring back. Just over the course of a few hours she had become so attuned to Tanya’s body that it felt like her own. She didn’t want to give it up but she knew Tanya wouldn’t be so easily swayed.

Arriving outside her house later she had decided to convince Tanya that they needed more time in each others shoes. She could appeal to her and tell her that a few more days would give her time to truly learn her lesson and respect her daughter. It would give her time to get the necklace from her and destroy it, hopefully allowing her to stay as Tanya forever.

However as she walked in the door she heard the sounds of wet slapping coming from upstairs and moans Isabella knew all too well. Slamming the door shut purposefully, Isabella heard the sounds quickly cease followed by fumbling.

“Oh your home.” Said Tanya appearing at the top of the stairs clearly flustered but still immaculate looking.

“Yeah listen I wanted to talk to you about something…” Isabella started before being cut off by Tanya.

“Can it wait dear? Mommy is in the middle of something.” Tanya said gesturing to a wake of turned over furniture that led from the pool to the stairs.

“Yeah I guess, wait Mommy..?” Isabella said confused.

“If it’s about your incident with Bianca today, I already know. Her mother called me enraged. I couldn’t be prouder. In all the excitement I seemed to have accidentally broken your special necklace but I don’t think you mind, do you Tanya?” Said Tanya with a knowing grin which was quickly returned by beaming Isabella.

“No of course not… mommy. It was old and I think I needed a new one anyway.” Isabella replied.

“Absolutely dear. Here take my credit card and go to on a shopping spree. No daughter of mine should be dressed in anything but the best.” Tanya said handing Isabella the onyx credit card.

“The PIN number is… well I think you’ll figure it out.” Tanya said with a wink before returning upstairs.

Isabella was elated. She had so many delicious plans forming in her head but one was overridden if the rest. She took out her phone and texted Sam:

“Change of plans. I want you to CUM over and pick me up.”

Hitting send she then moved over to the hallway mirror to primp herself before he arrived. She looked at reflection with excitement. She had made an impact in such a short space of time looking as she did, she couldn’t wait until she bought herself new clothes and some ‘upgrades’. Then she’d be unstoppable.

Hearing the honk of Sam’s car she strolled out with new purpose. She left Isabella behind, that was her mom now. She was Tanya now, a vicious bitch hidden behind an innocent disguise. Once she had taken down the remaining bitches at school who posed a threat to her she would reveal herself to be the wolf that she was but for now she going to enjoy the cover that being a sheep granted to her.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She said coyly as she got into Sam’s car.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you Tanya.” He said his eyes filled with lust.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” She grinned as they sped off.

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #magic jewelry #corrupted jewellery #power transfer #female possession #cc2023

141 notes · View notes

annahxredaxted · 2 years

Text

Think before you speak.

Genre: angst to fluff

Characters: David/angel

Tw: cursing/ argument

——————

It had been hours since I texted him, the message said it was delivered so was he deliberately ignoring me? Had I done something?

I was in a deep train of thought when my phone pinged, I pounced at it just to see his name pop up, I opened the message and he even seemed mad in the texts.

——-

Angel: hey davey, are you on your way? What’s going on?

^read.

*2 hours later*

David: I’m on my way calm down.

Angel: sorry, I was just making sure you were okay

David: yeah whatever.

———

I wasn’t with him, and I couldn’t see his facial expressions, but I can basically feel the rage and anger behind those words, those tiny 1s and 0s on a screen, all have meaning behind them. I haven’t done anything wrong to him, So why was he acting like this?

—

“I’m home.” I heard a gruff voice say from the foyer. He stared at me, as he set his bag down, slipping off his shoe by putting his foot on the back of the sole.

“Hey, what held you u-,” he cut them off not even letting them finish

“,why do you care?” He asked groaning, rubbing his temple.

“I care because I care about you davey.. what’s wrong?” I asked genuinely curious that he wasn’t all there today.

“Maybe I was busy, you ever think about that?” He said back quickly; rudely no less.

“Busy with what?” I asked, wondering what he could be so busy with to not respond to messages for two hours.

“My shit that I have to pull together! God! For once could you mind your own fucking business?!” He exclaimed loudly correcting me for not minding my business yet again. Good job angel. I mused to myself

——-

[10 years ago]

“Yeah that’s a good idea. Yeah.” My mom said on the phone

“Who ya talkin to mom?” I asked jumpily

“Shh. Mind your business angel.” She said rolling her eyes, taking another sip of her beer, putting it down and laughing like a hyena

“Yeah angel don’t you ever learn to mind your business?” Their brother jeered

“I was just asking a question.” I said

“Whatever.” Their dad said, lighting another cigar and laughing along with his wife.

———-

I shrunk. I made myself smaller; keeping my eyes on the floor, and I could not stop fidgeting with my clothing. David made fun of me a lot and I’m not one to let shit get to me, but that statement just gave me ptsd, from my childhood, this amount of degradation and snapping, and yelling that I didn’t deserve, that I’d done nothing to deserve..

‘angel stop your victimizing yourself. Your being nosy get over it’ My inner thoughts repeated like a mantra in my head.

———

‘They say the person you end up dating usually has some characteristics of your parents’

———

That’s when the realization hit him like a truck. David was taking his shitty day out on angel. The love of his life; the person he would kill and die for. And he was yelling at them?

“I’m sorry..” they said no louder then a whisper, a weak whisper that if you weren’t listening for it you would never be able to hear it..

‘Angel? My angel?’ The same angel that tells assholes to shut up? The same angel that burnt water? The same angel that grins when I say anything even remotely dirty? That angel?

I suddenly stopped yelling, I took a second to inhale, and to exhale and to understand the situation at hand okay so first I yelled, then they got upset. That’s it. That’s all that happened. Why are they upset? Why are they being so sensitive?

‘Yeah but David your being a dickhead’ -‘what no their being nosy’- ‘but their your mate’

I mused to myself; feeling horrible, feeling guilty and just plain awful..

“I-I’ll leave you alone now, I’m sorry..” they said yet again with no more then a whisper, no more then a small mutter that only I could hear.

“No wait angel,” I started, gently grabbing their arm pulling them back.

I was willing to push my ego down, and focus on why their really upset, why their acting this way, I don’t know much about their past but I know enough that I shouldn’t have said what I did..

—

They looked up at me with tear stained cheeks, water lines glossy with tears, with short breath, and off body language. That I was to blame for nevertheless.

“W-what?..” they asked trying not to sound muffled with the tears slowly making there way down their red puffy face.

“Why are you so upset? I said one thing and it looked like it struck a nerve.” I said a lot calmer then I was a couple seconds ago, trying to understand the other side of the story.

“Well..,” they sighed angrily “,you’ll think it’s stupid..” they quickly said aggressively wiping their tear with the sleeve of their sweater.

“No I won’t. I promise.” I swore.

“You also promised to be kind, but look where we are now.”

Looks like snotty angels back; but yet again they had a point

“Touché but nevertheless angel, I won’t make fun of you.” I swore once again, trying to pry out the answer as to why my mate was upset.

“My family used to say shit like that..” they muttered.

“What?” I said barely hearing them

“See you think it’s dumb.” They said, in a tone that proved a point.

“No. No I just couldn’t hear you.” I said attempting to redeem myself for my words.

“My family used to say shit like that..” they repeated to me, louder this time.

“Oh. Shit like what exactly?” I asked seeing as how I said a lot to them; ahh there’s that guilt again. I thought to myself

“ ‘Angel stop being nosy,’ or ‘when will you learn not everything’s your business’ or something along those lines..” they finished looking down.

“Oh. Oh.” Yes they’d mentioned their parents not being the nicest people in the world. And yeah they don’t talk anymore. I didn’t realize much about their PTSD though.

God knows they talk to me about everything else under the sun. But when it came to home life they weren’t exactly jumping to tell me their life story.

“Angel I’m so fuckin sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I said with guilt dropping my heart to my stomach

“It’s okay.” They quickly said back

“No. No it’s not. I had a shitty day and took it out on you. I didn’t even tell you where I was. What kind of an asshole does that? I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” I said

“Davey. It’s okay; I forgive you- y-you we’re just stressed.” They proclaimed.

“I know I know and I’m so sorry.” I said remorse dripping from my words.

“Thank you, davey. I appreciate it.” They said appreciatively

“Wanna go watch a movie, or something?” I asked placing my hand on their shoulder.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” They said smiling softly up at me; hints of tears still on their face as I think about all the pain I cause them.

“Okay then let’s go.”I said hoisting them up, where I’m carrying them, chest to chest, with their legs wrapped around my waist.

————

“I’m not saying Star Trek is bad I’m just saying I personally think if they were to have a fight with the two strongest characters Star Wars would win..”

“Also cos Star Treks trash..but that’s aside from the point.” I said to my mate who started a debate on which space themed franchise was better.

“Ya ya whatever.” They said nodding their head on my chest.

“Hey.” I said softly in order to get their attention

“Hmm?” They said raising their head to make eye contact with me.

“Can I give you a kiss?” I asked them

“Yeah..” they said leaning up, giggling into the kiss

“I love you Angel, and I’m sorry for being the way that I was.” I apologetically said

“I love you to davey. And it’s still fine. Don’t feel bad it’s over with.” They said, leaning in for another kiss.

——

And they all lived happily ever after~

The End

—-

Taglist:

@darlin-collins @verrverii @itsdaifuku @youisagayhooman

#redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted angel #angst to fluff #Apologetic David #he’s super sorry #please forgive him

143 notes · View notes

la-principessa-nuova · 4 months

Text

What a day, haha

For anyone who sees this from the tags, important context is that I’m a trans lesbian, on day 5 of HRT, not socially transitioned, and not out at work or to my family.

So today I went to my local Pride celebration for the first time, and I had the perfect cover to participate while not being out because I was volunteering to march for my employer and working at our booth, so I didn’t get to fully enjoy it, but I had a lot of fun and due to some interesting timing of stuff happening at work, we weren’t too bothered about actually advertising and were mostly just giving free stuff out and talking to a bunch of people.

I was so jealous of this girl I work with’s confidence because she was dancing to every song, cheering, and taking charge of everything, and I was just struggling to speak loud enough to talk to the people and trying to keep on top of handing stuff out to everyone.

Because whenever I talk in public, even if i don’t want to, it’s hard to not mask with a deep voice, and it doesn’t carry in a crowd, so I have to be louder, and then that feels way more masculine, and I just can’t bring myself to do it, especially under the pressure of a social situation I’m already struggling with, and I end up mumbling inaudibly.

But anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself, because I had originally assumed I would drive myself to the event, and I bought rainbow prescription glasses to wear for it, and I was planning on going all out. But then with parking being a pain, my mom offered to drop me off, and I realized that morning that it meant she would see my rainbow glasses and how into it I was. But she didn’t say much and dropped me off.

Then at the end I texted my mom and she was confused about where to pick me up, so she sent my dad to get me. So now my dad (who recently said “are you gay and not telling me” directly into my face with an angry/disappointed look on his face when he saw my completely normal glasses that he thought looked a bit too gay) was going to see me in my rainbow glasses and wearing multiple pride bracelets I’d gotten there.

But he was unusually calm about it and didn’t comment, so i figured my mom had yelled at him about the last time and he was now trying to be good about it. So we got back and I stayed at their house for a bit after because my dad had stopped in a drive through on the way home and gotten me food.

While I’m there, he starts “debating” about how kids shouldn’t be taught gay people exist, and surprisingly it actually turned into a productive conversation because he said something about how he can understand why women would want to be with other women (although he worded it as “because they’re emotional or whatever”) but doesn’t get why men would want to be with men because men are gross.

Which gave me the perfect opening to explain about because he only likes women romantically and sexually, so of course to him men aren’t attractive. And I said that I also sometimes feel like, “Why does anybody like men?,” because I like only women (I do like some people outside of the gender binary, but I don’t think my dad even understands what that means anyway, so I kept that to myself for the moment), but then I have to remember that the reason I don’t get what’s desirable about men is because what other people find desirable, I find undesirable, and that’s fine. The conversation continued on and I think I made some headway in explaining sexual/romantic orientation a bit.

But then later my dad brought up that I’d said I liked women and that he was confused why I wanted to be part of Pride if I liked women (which I was able to answer because I would want to go even if I was just an ally), but he then proceeded to tell me how my mom and my sister are convinced that I’m gay and told him to stop being rude about it and let me open up on my own time.

So maybe a little backwards progress that my dad is convinced I’m a cishet man and might start to comment on things again, but I did get a lot of information about what my family’s saying about me behind my back.

But I am so tired now. I really hope I can get a solid break tomorrow and just do nothing.

Oh yeah, and while I was waiting for my dad, a coworker who is one of the two people in charge of planning for Pride at work waited with me and I got to share some of the ideas I had for next year and discuss some of the things we could do better next time.

Everything went really well, but I’m wondering how this is going to pan out with my dad knowing I like girls. Like I imagine he’ll tell my mom that and then if she suspects I’m trans that might recolor things a bit, and if not she’ll probably tell my sister and then maybe she’ll realize I’m trans?

Again, what a day.

#lgbt #transgender #trans #lesbian #lgbt pride #pride month #pride parade #pride #closeted

4 notes · View notes

iwasntfree · 7 months

Text

My mom kept herself together enough to go to work, but at night she’d crumble in self-pity and despair. Her main source of comfort during this time: Lola. As Mom snapped at her over small things, Lola attended to her even more—cooking Mom’s favorite meals, cleaning her bedroom with extra care. I’d find the two of them late at night at the kitchen counter, griping and telling stories about Dad, sometimes laughing wickedly, other times working themselves into a fury over his transgressions. They barely noticed us kids flitting in and out. One night I heard Mom weeping and ran into the living room to find her slumped in Lola’s arms. Lola was talking softly to her, the way she used to with my siblings and me when we were young. I lingered, then went back to my room, scared for my mom and awed by Lola.

A couple of years after my parents split, my mother remarried and demanded Lola’s fealty to her new husband, a Croatian immigrant named Ivan, whom she had met through a friend. Ivan had never finished high school. He’d been married four times and was an inveterate gambler who enjoyed being supported by my mother and attended to by Lola. Ivan brought out a side of Lola I’d never seen. His marriage to my mother was volatile from the start, and money—especially his use of her money—was the main issue. Once, during an argument in which Mom was crying and Ivan was yelling, Lola walked over and stood between them. She turned to Ivan and firmly said his name. He looked at Lola, blinked, and sat down. My sister Inday and I were floored. Ivan was about 250 pounds, and his baritone could shake the walls. Lola put him in his place with a single word. I saw this happen a few other times, but for the most part Lola served Ivan unquestioningly, just as Mom wanted her to.

Then I came back at her, saying she would know all about being a phony, her whole life was a masquerade, and if she stopped feeling sorry for herself for one minute she’d see that Lola could barely eat because her goddamn teeth were rotting out of her goddamn head, and couldn’t she think of her just this once as a real person instead of a slave kept alive to serve her? “A slave,” Mom said, weighing the word. “A slave?” The night ended when she declared that I would never understand her relationship with Lola. Never. Her voice was so guttural and pained that thinking of it even now, so many years later, feels like a punch to the stomach. It’s a terrible thing to hate your own mother, and that night I did. The look in her eyes made clear that she felt the same way about me.

I also tried to teach her to drive. She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, but I picked her up and carried her to the car and planted her in the driver’s seat, both of us laughing. I spent 20 minutes going over the controls and gauges. Her eyes went from mirthful to terrified. When I turned on the ignition and the dashboard lit up, she was out of the car and in the house before I could say another word. I tried a couple more times. I thought driving could change her life. She could go places. And if things ever got unbearable with Mom, she could drive away forever.

The day before Mom died, a Catholic priest came to the house to perform last rites. Lola sat next to my mother’s bed, holding a cup with a straw, poised to raise it to Mom’s mouth. She had become extra attentive to my mother, and extra kind. She could have taken advantage of Mom in her feebleness, even exacted revenge, but she did the opposite. The priest asked Mom whether there was anything she wanted to forgive or be forgiven for. She scanned the room with heavy-lidded eyes, said nothing. Then, without looking at Lola, she reached over and placed an open hand on her head. She didn’t say a word.

Going through her boxes in the attic took me months. I found recipes she had cut out of magazines in the 1970s for when she would someday learn to read. Photo albums with pictures of my mom. Awards my siblings and I had won from grade school on, most of which we had thrown away and she had “saved.” I almost lost it one night when at the bottom of a box I found a stack of yellowed newspaper articles I’d written and long ago forgotten about. She couldn’t read back then, but she’d kept them anyway.

“Where is Lola?” A voice from another room. The next moment, a middle-aged woman in a housedress sauntered in with a smile. Ebia, Lola’s niece. This was her house. She gave me a hug and said again, “Where is Lola?” I slid the tote bag from my shoulder and handed it to her. She looked into my face, still smiling, gently grasped the bag, and walked over to a wooden bench and sat down. She reached inside and pulled out the box and looked at every side. “Where is Lola?” she said softly. People in these parts don’t often get their loved ones cremated. I don’t think she knew what to expect. She set the box on her lap and bent over so her forehead rested on top of it, and at first I thought she was laughing (out of joy) but I quickly realized she was crying. Her shoulders began to heave, and then she was wailing—a deep, mournful, animal howl, like I once heard coming from Lola.

#reading this article again. god #1

0 notes

lifewiththelulus · 1 year

Text

I'm afraid Kindlin hadn't told Cirrus about this.

Yeah she'd probably do it without telling her because she knows there's a big chance she never hears anything from her and doesn't wanna ruin the vibe of their special day if she doesn't

Cirrus finding it in some random papers with a stamp that says "return to sender" a few months after their wedding

Cirrus follows the address and confronts Anala herself!

She has to do that without telling Kindlin because kin would stop her the moment that idea came up

More than likely Anala doesn't live there anymore, and the fire people who live there say she moved to fire land a while ago They do have some stuff that got left behind though and are happy to give it to Cirrus Mostly just family photos, some of Kindlin's childhood toys and clothes.

Cirrus is afraid to tell her what really happened, she tells her that her mom doesn't live there anymore… but she got a package from Fireland and it came with all this stuff, maybe giving you these is a way of saying, I'm still thinking about you. It's a blatant lie and she's not sure if Kindlin will buy it.

Cirrus is good at acting, but it's almost impossible to lie to her.

At first Kindlin is afraid to open the boxes but then starts to go through the stuff and excitedly talks about certain items She cries a little finding a picture of her Dad holding her as a baby, but then it dawned on her. She turns to Cirrus and asks in a confused tone why she was at her old house in the first place, and how she knew where it was since she never came over as a child

Cirrus isn't able to keep up her charade and hands her the letter.

Kindlin stares at it with a mortified look and covers her mouth, then starts to apologize profusely for hiding it and starts to explain she didn't wanna make a big deal about it. She knows Cirrus hates it when she hides things, but she felt this one time was different. She gets all worked up over it and starts to panic thinking Cirrus might mad.

Cirrus is confused as to why she’s the one apologizing when she was the one who lied to her.

She just takes the letter and puts it to the side to hug her tight She didn't appreciate the lying, but she could appreciate why she did it. Once she calms down enough she asks Cirrus what she was planning on doing if Anala had been there.

“I’ve put up enough fake smiles in my life, and if I had to do so to make our wedding day perfect I figured one more couldn't hurt 😌”

Kindlin just sighed and kissed her cheek "She doesn't deserve your smiles, even your fake ones." She paused and looked at the invitation again "Does… it make me a bad person for actually being relieved she didn't RSVP?"

“I’d be worried if you weren't relieved. Why did you try to invite her? I know she’s blood, but she’s well… her, you know… kind of the same reason why I didn't invite my sister. She was never there.”

Kindlin's flames got smaller and she looked down. "I don't know… I guess, part of me believes she's a good person, and she still cares… I guess I was giving her one more chance." She put a hand over her mouth and tried to keep her voice from cracking again. "She never did anything bad to me, she always made sure I had what I needed she just…" Kindlin didn't know why she was making excuses for her "It was hard after Dad died. It was never the same. Then she started that job and started traveling. I think it was easier on her not to see me… I don't blame her for that."

(sorry for the delay) “But it was hard for you too! I can understand what a tole it can take to lose a loved one but she was your still your mom! She of all people should have been there for you and not wallowing in her own misery!” she backs up from her when she realizes she’s yelling.

#falls on her face 🛹#the world is a stage! 🌟

0 notes

tabswrites · 1 year

Text

What We Long For: Excerpt

(I was messing around with Ch 1 again and actually liked the new vibe, thought I’d share)

The scream shook the walls and electrified my veins. I clutched my sister’s hand, every part of me trembling as I was dragged from one room to the next. Vera rushed to throw a few of own belongings into the backpack slung over her shoulder. She seemed completely unfazed by the wailing beast we had trapped in the bathroom.

“Is mom going to be okay?” I whimpered, daring to peek behind me. Her body, unmoving, lay at the foot of the stairs, one arm pinned behind her back. A pool of dark liquid surrounded her.

“Not now.” Vera squeezed my hand. “Help me find my keys.” Her eyes were wide, head whipping left and right. “I put them right here.” She muttered to herself.

The bathroom door thundered with each violent knock from the beast within. My breaths turned into gasps and I froze in place. The house went silent.

Vera spun in my direction, keys dangling triumphantly from her fingers. “Let’s–” Her next words were cut off by a deafening thud from behind me as the bathroom door was blown off its hinges and hit the opposite wall.

A dark figure crawled out of the room on all fours, back hunched and head low to the ground. I noticed a blue and orange friendship bracelet fastened around its left wrist. The realization sucked the life out of me. I collapsed and the creature formerly known as my father quickly descended on me. A bone-chilling emptiness replaced the warmth behind his eyes. Vera’s screams did nothing to deter him. Thick fingers, rough from years of working in a kitchen, wrapped around my throat. Fire ignited in my lungs as we stared at each other, my fear-stricken arms no match for his adult strength.

A picture frame collided with his head, sending him into a fit of rage. The grip on my neck relaxed as he rose to his feet and let out a low growl. I coughed and gasped, desperate for air. I was helpless once again, watching as he stepped around me to approach Vera.

She snatched another frame off the wall and aimed it at his head. “Get away from him!” She pleaded, her voice breaking on the last word. “Please, Dad.”

His body twitched, neck bending at an unnatural angle. “Let me go!” He bared his teeth and pounced, knocking both her and the frame to the floor in a single leap. “Let me go!” He roared, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her into the ground. “Let me go. Let me go. Let me GO!” The floorboards creaked and groaned with every slam. Vera let out a cry, fingers reaching outwards for something, anything to help.

“V-v,” I started, the effort strangling me once more. My lungs whined in protest as I spotted the fallen frame only inches away and grasped for it. A sticky, red-stained hand closed around mine. I looked up into my mother’s face. The right side of her head was still dripping fresh blood from the long scratches dug deep into her cheek. She lifted the metal frame and turned from me with a grotesque smile.

She turned, her dressing gown flaring out around her like a cape. Her footsteps were short and quick as she rushed to her daughter’s aid, raising the frame high in the air before bringing it down into the back of her husband’s head. Glass shattered and rained down in mismatched fragments. Before he could react, she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed hard.

“Now, Vera!” She croaked.

Vera seemed to understand instantly, her fingers closing around a large chunk of glass that had landed beside her. She brought her arm up and jabbed the glass into his cheek with a yell, the motion so deliberate and fluid it was like she had known what to do all along. He thrashed and gurgled, my mother still clinging to him, arms shaking with the effort to keep him down.

“Take your brother and go, sweetie.” She said through gritted teeth.

Vera’s eyes shone brightly. “Mom, no–”

“Go!” Tears fell freely from her eyes, from fear or pain, I’ll never know.

Vera struggled to her feet, cradling a bleeding hand to her chest. “Come on, Grey.” She reached out to me with her free arm.

I was at her side in an instant. “What about you, Mom?” Using Vera as cover, I snuck another glance at my father. He had gone completely limp, like a puppet without strings. His eyes had turned bright red. I gulped.

I felt myself being dragged away before she could answer, down the hall, out the door, into Vera’s cramped Prius. All I could see was red.

#what we long for #tw blood #tw choking #tw mild gore #horror writing #wip excerpt #I think I was being dramatic the other day when I said I’d have to completely rewrite it #wwlf #my wips

1 note · View note

socksbiteshuman · 1 year

Text

I keep thinking at what point in our lives are we allowed to point fingers at our parents, Zack?

If I wasn’t alone I could’ve easily divided us. One child to side with each parent and rotate that combination every now and then to keep peace, to make it look like it isn’t strategic. But there’s only one of me here. I cannot go ask for help.

So I have to go 50/50 between the two except, I can’t. One person is always more wrong. One person has always messed up more.

At what point are we allowed to admit that despite our parents being good people and good parents separately, sometimes we’re out in situations that demand more of us than we are equipped to give? As a child with the best parents in the world am I ever allowed to admit that they hurt me? Am I allowed to even think it to myself?

I keep trying to side more with my mom emotionally, and with my dad logically.

Our very simple tea time conversations turn into grave robberies. We keep digging up the old corpses because they’re still bleeding within us. We keep scratching the wounds and we think it’s the only way to move forward.

I am the guillotine and I keep trying to fall only and only on my own neck. I do not want to ever come close to theirs. But it feels like sometimes,

Like sometimes when you’re angry you break beautiful things even if you don’t mean to. It’s not intentional, but you might wave your hands in exasperation and accidentally hit a favourite flower vase.

But sometimes, I think yknow that that wasn’t an accident.

I know I’m not the glass vase in their eternal battle against each other, but I’m still there, Zack. And I do not understand how to explain it without sounding like a privileged princess.

But then.

Today, my dad said, my beloved dad said my mum would be left alone as an old woman cus he’d be long gone. Long gone. She’d be 80 or 90. And old and would walk with a walking stick. And he’d be long gone. And to lighten up the mood and to keep myself from bursting into anger and tears, I said “wouldn’t you be 80 too?” And he said nah.

The surety in his voice really scared me Zack. Yknow how often I imagine those moments to prepare myself, but it hurt so much to hear it.

I’m not against him wanting to leave this world as soon as he can bc god knows he’s been really put through it and he surely has nothing to live for except his responsibilities.

But it really hurt so much to hear.

He was like “i’d be gone way before that, I’m not getting old and living for that long.”

My mother had yelled at him for not being gentle during our play fights, and she told me that he used to be like this. That he always gets irritated and retaliated out of irritation, not playfulness and that he used to do it to her.

And then he said he never.

And she said, you used to hurt me. You just didn’t slap me but you used to hurt me. And he got so hurt by that accusation.

I got them off of each other and he stormed upstairs and she stayed and-

I wasn’t there Zack. I wasn’t there idk what went down and when.

But I know if I could go back in time I would murder both of them in their sleep bc they are the worst fucking crime that the Universe has ever committed.

These two getting married is the grandest most fucked up crime ever.

But nonetheless, it just.

I don’t like to think about it bc I don’t wanna be one of those people who make up problems for themselves by overthinking but then sometimes I realise that I was formed, born, I came into existence-

as a product of …

This.

Like this insanely horribly formed marriage of two people who would rather die than exist around each other,

And I came out of that.

I am the product of that.

I happened.

And I just start to feel so ugly again.

Everywhere.

Man’s I keep thinking Zack there’s nobody else here and there’s a part of me that wants to run so far from you so utterly far far away, make sure you never find me bc my responsibility in this world is to take care of them.

When they’re old.

I don’t understand it but I would lose you, You, whom I’ve desired since I was born,

to take care of them.

One wants to go as soon as he can and the other wants to stick around for as long as she can for me, Cus she doesn’t fantasise about leaving her child behind.

Im so sorry but I really don’t think I am worthy of your love, because I don’t think I have it in me to love you right. I am a product of this disaster this karmic cosmic crime.

And wherever you are, I just hope you’ll forgive me if I never find you.

Idk exactly how much I’m going to lose and how much I’m going to gain and how much both of things would be decided upon by factors beyond my control, powers older than the Sun, rules written in celestial ink.

But You. I want you to have everything. Anything and everything.

I don’t think I can ever go, Zack.

I had stopped wanting to go, I had started to want to stay.

But now I know I Have to Stay.

There really isn’t another option. One of us has to leave, it’s a very old story. All that. One of us has to stay too. And I will.

1 note · View note

mikecuenca · 2 years

Text

Trash Heap Souvenir No. 4

The Cuencas:

I’d get out of grade school around 3pm. My dad would scoop me up and bring me to his office. He was an accountant. His own business. And his office was sandwiched between what at the time was a Guitar Center and this Chinese take-out place called Koo’s.

From the backseat of my parents’ car windows I’d see a bunch of musicians with multi-colored hair and leather jackets lurking around. They were punkers but my mom referred to them as “hippies”, not knowing what that actually meant.“You better not grow up to be a hippie!,” my mom would warn in Spanish.

Followed by my dad going, “Son unos delincuentes.” [“Bunch of delinquents.”]

But who could blame them? All the gangs in ‘80s movies were punk! Think about it: TERMINATOR, POLICE ACADEMY (the series was a staple in my living room), doesn’t matter, whatever, we can list them off.

Now, the way my dad became an accountant is sort of funny. And this is all hearsay ‘cause he never shared anything. Well, save for two stories:

One about his dog when he was a kid getting scared shitless after a bottle rocket went off. He spent hours looking for the dog, worried sick. Found him dead of heart failure hiding under his bed.

The other tied into his fear of scorpions.

No, not the band. The creature.

“Wind of Change” rules. I will blast that. Right now.

We were watching HONEY, I SHRUNK THE KID and you know when that huge-ass scorpion appears? My dad shivered and turned from the TV to the newspaper (he always watched TV with a newspaper sitting on his gut) going, “No jodas!” The nearest translation being something akin to, “Fuck off.” My mom then taunted him. That’s my family. All ball-busters.

Now, this is a lady who nearly faints every time she sees any sort of reptile. You show her a rubber snake and she screams. When ANACONDA came out, it was her nightmare. I asked her once, “Well, if you’re so scared of snakes how’d you do on your wedding night when my dad pulled his pants off?” Hahahahaha! She turned red, all embarrassed that I said this in front of her friends, who all started howling, by the way, and she yelled out, “Muchachito! Coño! You with that language. The same as your dad!”

You have no idea how much she freaks when a lizard rears its scaly hide. During our second short stint living in Miami, Florida she’d have me smack all the lizards that would cling to our backyard screen door with a broom before she’d enter the kitchen that accompanied it. I will always associate the Disney animated short THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW with this ‘cause she had pulled me away from the haunting TV screen to go take care of these cold-blooded fiends. She was scared of lizards? Well, that Headless Horseman scared the shit out of three-year-old me so thank the heavens for this vicious chore. Americanos made their kids do their dishes and take-out the trash? My Cuban mom made me go gangbusters on these fucking things. WHACK! FWAP! PAP!

Oh, and my aunt, her sister Irene (pronounced Ee-Reh-Neh), same reaction but to cockroaches. Had a blast showing her the cockroach segment in the first CREEPSHOW once. Muahahahaha!

What is it with this whole fainting spell amongst my family when encountering certain species of the animal kingdom?

My dad’s scorpion story goes— and I added this to FRENCH NOVEL as one of Hue’s voice-overs but I pulled it from the final cut— there was this local café where he grew up in Guantanamo, Cuba. Apparently, a scorpion got into the coffee grinder one morning and all the people who drank that batch died of poisoning. This horrified my dad as a kid. And it stuck.

But, no, that’s as far as it went when it came to his past. I watched SAVING PRIVATE RYAN with him at home when it hit video and he had to keep turning away from our big screen TV, going, “You wouldn’t understand.” No, I wouldn’t understand. Why don’t you tell me?

I’d only seen my parents kiss once. And I’d only seen my dad cry twice. Actually, no, three times:

When I showed him DANCER IN THE DARK (my sixth time watching it, probably). When the credits rolled he turned to me with red eyes and said drily, “Why did you show me that?”

And when his brother died. And when his mom died. News from the homeland.

We visited Cuba in 1994. I documented most of it on our home camera. I have the tapes now. My dad hadn’t seen his mom since he left the old country. She had Alzheimer’s, didn’t recognize him. He fell on his knees, trying to remind her who she was. If he cried then he didn’t let me know.

During that trip I met my dad’s childhood best friend: Orlando.

As an adult my mom would remind me, “You remember Orlando? He sends his regards.” How could I forget him? “He’s always asking about you.”

Orlando passed some odd years ago.

When they were kids, my dad, Heriberto-- Beto, for short---

Oh, shit. Oh, yeah, he’d say, “You know why los Americanos don’t get their taxes done here? (Because my parents never referred to Caucasians as white people; they referred to them as ‘Americanos’, just how all Asians are ‘chinos’, and so on and so forth) Because they see my name and they read ‘Be-to’ and think of ‘Vi-ro’ (‘virus’ in Spanish) and run away.”

…what?

Stupid dad-joke that doesn’t translate well. And I’d just roll my eyes. And of course, with my dad, if you didn’t laugh at his joke he would repeat it thinking you didn’t get it the first time.

“No, we don’t laugh ‘cause it’s terrible,” Lida, my sister-in-law, would say.

--but Beto and Orlando dived into a river. Orlando jumped in head first and hit a rock and went deaf for the rest of his life. So he’d communicate by scribbling on little bits of paper.

We were drifting on this small boat in what could have been the same river and Orlando pointed out to me all these homes surrounding the canal, scribbling: YOUR DAD HAS KIDS ALL OVER HERE.

And my dad turned pale and blurted, “Don’t tell him that!” Then to me: “Oye, don’t tell your mom that. Won’t hear the end of it.”

I didn’t repeat shit. “Look at that! My dad was a slut,” would have thought eleven-year-old me, had I such thoughts.

Orlando wasn’t toooooo far from the truth.

One day CHRISTINA comes on. Christina was (is?) what Oprah is to English-speaking folks. She had a guest on. This soap actor. We hear this voice coming from the TV that sounds just like my dad. My mom yells out, “Look at him! Look at him! Identical!”. I go up to the TV with my dad. This soap actor, a popular one at that, I’d have to ask my family what his name is, is there telling Christina that he’s never met his father, doesn’t know who he is, and he mentions his mother’s name and my dad turns that same familiar pale he turned when I was on that boat with him and Orlando.

“I had relations with a woman of such moniker.” That’s the more poetic, broken-English way of putting what he said.

My half-brother Betico (Beto Jr.) went back to the motherland a couple of decades after he escaped with his family on a raft.

Quick note, with Cubans, if there are two people with the same name the elder keeps their name but the younger one gets an ‘ico’ appended to it. Actually, it doesn’t even matter if there’s two of you. If you’re younger in general you get it. Or if your mother’s senile as hell you’ll still get it even though you’re a grown-ass person. But first they have to call you by everyone’s name first until they get yours right. So, my brothers Angel and Osvaldo (who prefers to go by his middle name ‘Luis’) always, to this day, get called Angelito or Osvaldito by our mom, and me, I get Michaelito. It’s ridiculito, if you ask me.

Since my two full-blooded brothers and I are so far apart in age, whenever Angel (the eldest) would take me around town, people would confuse him for my dad. But Betico? Dude, I look more like him than anyone else in my family. Striking resemblance. Both lanky and tall with bad posture and messy/curly hair. Eerie, I’m telling you. I take after my dad more anyway, while Angel and Luis take after my mom. I get my lips and nose from my mom, everything else from my dad (including his dad-jokes and sometimes temper). But my green eyes, my green eyes I get from my grandmothers on each side who were both named Lydia and both had blue eyes (my cousin Maritza is the only person amongst my big large family to have light-colored eyes). You can argue that my eyes are kinda blue, and kinda green.

“Linger on, those pale blue eyes.” – Lou Reed.

Betico was hoping to locate his mom. In layman’s terms, the woman my dad knocked up. He learns that she’s dead and had a son. Another son with my dad. And that she was the village prostitute (I hope to fucking God no one translates for my mom any of this stuff I’m jotting down).

Turns out my dad’s other illegitimate son is named Orlando. Orlando, I repeat. He was named after my dad’s childhood friend. And when I meet him in person in 2016, briefly, as I was traveling back from Guatanamo to Havana, I’m immediately transported back in time because he looks just like how my dad looked like when I was growing up. You know, when I think about my parents, because I wasn’t close to them as an adult (I keep in touch a lot with my mom now) and rarely visited them, I imagine them just as how they looked when they played a large part in my life… twenty + years ago. I am just blown away. Same mannerisms. Same voice. Everything.

Heriberto died before he ever got to meet Orlando. Betico’s discovery was news to him.

And see, my dad wasn’t this macho dude. He was a hard worker, provided for his family, drank like a bandit on his off-time, and was a gambler and ballbuster who sometimes went too far, to be Frank. But he still didn’t like to show any vulnerability. Except for when he passionately and dramatically recited poetry aloud (I could post a video). Maybe not until his last years when he turned from commanding dude with dagger-like eyes to Mr. Magoo did he let people come see the softer side of Sears. So, as backed by Betico’s detective work, he never shared shit about his youth.

Everything I know about my dad I learned from my mom, or my aunts, or my uncle. Mainly during that 2016 trip:

My mom’s sister, my mom being the youngest of her siblings, Nuerka (pronounced Nee-Ooor-Ka), told me, “You know how your parents met?”

“I know that story.”

“Yeah, your dad saw her from afar and he was infatuated with her. He was crazy about her! Love at first sight! Believe me. He was twenty-five and she was fifteen.”

“Wait a minute, I thought he was twenty-five and she was sixteen when they got married.”

My uncle, also named Angel, “They were eleven years apart.”

Aunt Nuerka, “Ten.”

Me, “I thought it was nine.”

“Ten.”

Uncle Angel, “Eleven.”

Me, “Whatever.”

Nuerka, “Point is that he was obsessed with her and she would run away hiding, going, ‘El Viejo! El Viejo viene!’” [“The old man! The old man is coming!”]

One afternoon my dad kissed my mom during a screening of a Brando movie she was attending with her sisters. She ran home in a panic, crying, thinking she’d been knocked up. Because back in those days, as seen in CINEMA PARADISO, whenever a couple would go to kiss, the frame would cut, and next thing you know they were married with a kid. That’s how naïve my mom was. You get knocked up by kissing in her world. Heriberto and Arelis got married shortly after. And soon? They had my eldest brother Angel and, two years later, Luis.

As the timeline shows, all my dad’s dirty deeds which produced offspring children were committed in his late-teens or early-twenties.

Nuerka added, “Your dad never strayed after he met your mom. And I wouldn’t tell you a lie. He talked a lot of shit. He whistled and howled as most of them do. But he never strayed. I guarantee it.”

But…

The way my dad became an accountant (thanks for getting back on topic, Mike) was HE pretended he was mute. He pretended he was mute because to this day my mom doesn’t know how to speak English and my dad never learned either! So he took community college courses that they didn’t offer in Spanish and would never have admitted him into in order to get his certification to become accountant. But because my dad is my fucking dad and he had a booming voice and loved to spin yarns and command the stage and dare not a soul derail him, he was chatting away on campus with friends and a professor over heard him. Caught red-handed. But because he was so charming they let him pass.

And now he owned his own business. Enough to support my mom and this total accident of a kid. Anchor baby, they tell me. Meet my mom and the first things out of her mouth to you while pointing at me will be, “Accidente.”

She doesn’t mean harm. In a way, she’s delighted. She kind of laughs nervously when she says that. But it’s like, gee, thanks. Thanks for reminding me I was never meant to be here. I mean, are any of us planned? Aren’t the majority of us accidents? Sure. Some are. But she nearly died when she had me. She wasn’t supposed to have me. She was too old. They had to cut her open. And she chose to have me than to live, against my dad’s wishes. Enter guilt-trips.

By the time I was five my brothers were married, awaiting, or about to have, children of their own. So, what do you when the kids have flown the coop and now you have to start all over with this pain-in-the-ass, overly hyper, spouting gibberish a mile-a-minute child?

You plop him in front of a television set and tell him to behave.

My mom was a babysitter and also cleaned houses. I used to have this big red scar under my left eye until my mid-teens. There was this two-year-old my mom was sitting. And he was in his crib. But that little shit had these long, sharp fingernails. I went over to play with him and the motherfucker ripped the skin half an inch underneath my eye with his talons. I bled everywhere. Screamed. Cried.

Luis would joke, “Hey, the Yankee Scarface!”

Well, actually, Luis, the original Scarface was Italian. But I didn’t catch the Howard Hawks one until later.

But most of her life, my mom didn’t really work. Lots of health issues. Bad health issues. But during this time she was cleaning offices or rich people’s homes and on those days I was stuck at my dad’s office. Just watching the clock turn. Just as I did at school. Nothing to goddamned do. No, I could be at home right now catching the last five minutes of GILLIGAN’S or WOODY WOODPECKER and tuning daily, same bat time, same bat channel for some WHIZ! BANG! POWS! in all its four-color Adam West glory. But, nooooo, here I was marooned with the TV always set to Univision for all of my dad’s Spanish-only speaking clients, broadcasting its CHESPERITO and CARRUSEL nonsense; shows I wanted zilch to do with.

But, thankfully, there was this typewriter sitting there, plain as day on an abandoned desk. And, boy, was this kid bored. And, boy, did this kid have a wild imagination…

#trashheapsouvenir

1 note · View note

farfromharry · 2 years

Text

Veronica and Beth's meeting

Summary: The story of what happened during the first meeting between Beth and her birth mother

Word count - 2009

Warnings - shitty mother idk

a/n this is for all of you that kept yelling at me :/

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Beth was a whole mix of emotions going into the day. She was excited to meet her mother, her birth mother, despite having a perfect figure in that position in her life anyway. It was thrilling. But she was also scared. In the back of the little girl’s mind, she couldn’t help but wonder if the whole reason her father had agreed to this was because he didn’t want her anymore. She was asking herself if she had done something wrong, anything that could have annoyed him to the point he’d consider sending her away. At only seven years old, she wasn’t thinking of the implications of her own mother being the one to force this meeting.

As the two of you made the short journey from the flower shop, where you’d just left Eddie with your friends, to the diner you worked at, she couldn’t help but feel the need to ask just in case. “Mommy?” she muttered, lightly tugging on the hand of yours she was holding as you walked.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” The smile you flashed her was so sweet that she didn’t understand how you could be willing to give her up. Maybe she had it all wrong?

“A-Are we meeting my mom because daddy doesn’t want me anymore?”

The question alone completely broke your heart, but the look of despair on her face really sealed the deal and made it so it could never be repaired. If you and Eddie had known she was thinking like this, there was no doubt in your mind that your fiance would have chosen to fight for her, rather than just give in to what that horrid woman wanted. If he knew she was thinking like this now, he probably would have stormed in that diner and called the whole thing off. Above everything in Eddie’s life, she came first, and if his baby girl didn’t want to do something, then you best believe he was finding every possible way in which she wasn’t going to have to.

You stopped the two of you walking right in the middle of the sidewalk. Luckily, the streets weren’t busy during this time of the day (not in the area you were in) so you weren’t hindering anyone’s path– even if you were though, right now you wouldn’t have cared. “No. No, absolutely not, sweetheart. Your dad loves you more than anything in the world,” you told her. You hoped she could hear the sincerity in your voice. But the look on her face told you she still wasn’t sure. “Beth, you are the best thing in your dad’s life. He wouldn’t give you up for anything.”

Her voice was shy when she next spoke. “Really? You promise?”

You nodded, without hesitation. “Absolutely. I’d bet anything on it.” Your hand brushed over her hair, your thumb lightly stroking her cheek. There was a brief instant shared between the two of you that really felt like a true mother-daughter moment. Eventually, she flashed you a smile, letting you know some of the upset she was feeling had dissipated.

With that reassurance swimming in her mind, the two of you continued your journey, making it to your workplace in no time. You wished you would have taken longer actually, put off this meeting as long as physically possible.

Upon entering the building on arrival, your eyes immediately latched onto the lone woman in one of the booths. If you weren’t guiding Beth, you definitely would have let an eye roll or two slip. You were supposed to be civil, for everyone’s sake– that’s why you came instead of Eddie– but that didn’t mean you were doing a great job at pushing the distaste you held for her down. It was the same distaste that had been building since the first time she had shown up in the diner back in late August.

“Is that her?” the small voice next to you asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, come on.” Her grip on your hand was almost deadly as the two of you made your way to the table, weakly greeting Veronica before sliding into the opposite side of the booth. As her eyes landed on Beth, she seemed shocked. There was something swimming in her eyes that you couldn’t decipher.

“Hi,” she greeted, earning a tight lipped smile from you and a nervous glance from Beth. “Can I get something for either of you?” she asked, attempting some sort of peace offering you thought. It was a shitty one considering all she technically had done over the years.

You turned to Beth, brushing some of her curls out of her face. “You want anything to drink, sweetheart?”

The little girl didn’t speak, just shook her head and buried herself in your side. She could still see the lady, but she felt much safer with the knowledge that she was nice and protected in your embrace– your arms wrapped tightly around her. In this position nothing could get to her and no one could take her, she knew you would make sure of that before anything else.

“So,” she turned to the child, a sickly sweet smile on her lips that made even you uneasy. “What’s your name?”

Before she answered, she looked at you, like she was asking permission to answer. You nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. “Beth,” she answered quietly.

You saw her nose scrunch quickly, similar to something like disgust which you certainly didn’t appreciate. “I wanted to name you Ashley. I always loved that name.”

“I like Beth, my dad did a good job.” She was understandably defensive over her father. There was no way in hell the little firecracker next to you was going to let this random woman say anything about the man that raised her, the one she loved with her entire being– the one you loved with your entire being. “Why are you being mean?”

You didn’t necessarily scold her, you were enjoying seeing the lady be put in her place, but you did give her a quick look that let her know to tone it down a little bit. If you had to be civil for the sake of your fiance, so did his daughter. Being mean or confrontational could only put your little family in more danger.

The moment was quickly moved past. “Well, um, I wanted to meet you to see what you were like. You clearly take after your dad in a lot of things.” Now she didn’t remember that much about Eddie from highschool, but she did remember he was explosive and often spoke his mind to those that taunted him. Just like Beth was in that moment. There were the obvious traits also; the hair, the big puppy eyes– basically all of her features she got from Eddie. But, now it seemed like she got some personality from him too, maybe you as well. “You’re like his twin.”

Despite what she thought was a compliment, the child still didn’t trust her– she had already left a bad taste in her mouth and Beth desperately wanted to leave. From that first instance where she questioned Eddie’s decision, things went downhill.

Not once throughout the entire meeting did Beth uncurl herself from your side. It was clear she was scared and a little uncomfortable, and you would do anything in your power to soothe her. Eventually, you thought the girl might benefit from a break. Upon catching sight of the owner, of whom knew both you and Beth well, you sent her to talk with him. Even suggested the idea of asking for some sort of dessert to keep her content and occupied for a little.

Just as she rushed over to the old man, you watched her, making sure she was okay and everything was fine.

“You’re really good with her,” she noted. Your eyes shifted from where Beth was giggling with the owner, to the woman sitting opposite you. Although you would have liked to make some sort of snarky comment, you knew that wouldn’t have helped the situation. If you were being honest, you didn’t really know what to say, so you just nodded.

She could feel the tension between you both. It wasn’t like she expected a welcome party when deciding to come back and talk to Eddie, but she didn’t know she would be met with this level of hostility. “Have you and Munson been together long?”

“Me and Eddie have been together for almost three years.” Some might have thought the emphasis on your fiance’s name was unnecessary, but you didn’t like how the woman referred to him as Munson. Back in highschool she had obviously thought less of him, especially considering she wanted no one to know about their brief hookup, but you weren’t going to let it continue until now if you could help it. He was a better person than she’d ever be. She didn’t need to know the ins and outs of your relationship, not when you knew she didn’t really care. The technicalities didn’t matter anyway, two official years, three realistically, who was counting.

Veronica smiled awkwardly, recognising the agitation radiating off of you. “Long time. Guess you’re basically Beth’s mom then, huh?” It was supposed to be a lighthearted comment, but you had quickly grown sick of the small talk.

“Look, Veronica, you can’t just think that you can come back here with this pathetic excuse of trying, and everything will be fine and dandy. We aren’t going to think you’re suddenly some saint because the guilt finally ate you up inside and you came back. Eddie has had to struggle for the last seven years because of you, and he loves his daughter so much, but what you did was terrible. So, sorry if you think we’re a little angry at you, but we are,” you told her. “You gave her up. That’s not something you can undo because you suddenly want her back, not when she has a loving family already. Eddie became a great dad because you made a selfish choice seven years ago, you don’t have the right to take his family or the life he’s made for him and that little girl away from him.”

She seemed at a loss for words. Obviously she realized how unfair it was for her to appear back in your lives, but she hadn’t realized the entirety of the pain she was causing to your little family. “What we want is for you to disappear again, go live your life how you were before. Stop with the lawyers and the threats; leave Eddie and Beth alone.” By the end of your speech, the little girl in question had made her way back to the table, remnants of the cake she’d been gifted by Maurice still around her mouth. The sight made you smile, brushing them away for her.

There was nothing left for you to say to the woman, nor did you want to hear anything she had to say back. This wasn’t a situation you were going to leave up for debate, she just had to accept it.

“Let’s go back to your dad, yeah?” Her entire face lit up at that idea, to the point she got so overwhelmed by the thought she wasn’t being abandoned with the strange woman, that she began to cry. You pouted, attempting to brush the tears away– though it didn’t work; they only kept falling.

Veronica watched on with a frown, feeling guilty at the fact she was the one who had caused such a reaction for her own selfish reasons. You were happy to shoot her a glare as you led Beth out of the diner, her hand firmly grasped in yours as the two of you began the short journey back to the flower shop where her father was waiting. Even though that hadn’t gone as great as some would have hoped, you were happy you had the news for Eddie that Veronica wasn’t going to be a problem anymore.

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

beth taglist - @ches-86 @kiszkawagnerwhore @ssqra @leftcloudparadise @aereth @destielbuckyboy @eddiesaws @whatawildone @husherstan @chickensinrainboots @spencestyles @simonsbluee @naivences @eddiemunsongffff @shreklover123 @stevesred @mcueveryday @spencerstits @ajeff855 @strawberrykittey @little-diva-gurl @deydeyyyhhh @what-a-strange-constellation @psychdelephantt @roguemetalmaster13 @lovesleepybearwriter @cherrypieyourface @sincerelli @lj127 @that-80s-chick @bloodyxheaven @bva14 @1800letmesleep @taramaria @boomhauer @eddie-the-angel-munson @soft-munson-hargreeves @eddiesviolet @welikeicecream @eddiemunsons-sweetheart @paintmekala @audge-podgeee @s0fia-14 @asthetic9646 @urmomashleyyy @chrissysgf @hazydespair @tvserie-s-world @andreead @ily-jupit3r @certainlynotasimp @spideysbae @taz-devvil @shotoskitten @idontfeelanythinganymor3 @lexi-2004 @ilovereadingfanfics @mlktea13 @jvmisvu @munsons-sweetheart @aureatopia @crabbygabby @pikispixies @lethalbeautiful @angie1djonasgg @phantomxoxo @graywrites20 @thesundrop @yeah-seems-legit @wydmonday @fangirling-4-ever @yaskna @ems-alexandra @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ajdelilah @d4td7ewmachine @eddie-my-love-munson @lovecleastrange @hairringgt0n @matty-blossom @olivialou13 @mcntseee @obsessed-with-f1 @smol-book-nerd @alex—weasley @jessphill400 @dhtomholland @ollyoxenfrees @yamatosworld @homeagain-1 @gabriella-gvf @alphashadows @sav7689 @sorryav14 @vecnaschargingstentacles @munsonlcve @hehesafa @dearelliewrites @sl0opno0ts @lys009 @doodlebob-mp3 @sandrayaret @purple-storm @peachiicheries @haveyoumetme @lubsana @mushy-mushroom04 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @jaannaa @rockstarmunson @skyfall8600 @rockqbvebby @munsonmolls @forgiveliv @dream-alive789 @politephantommenace @lilylilyyyyyy @lydiascottage @heartyhope @etherealdarlin @xbxexcxcxa @pop-rocks-and-skittles @peakyoup-03 @iluvved @parasadic-blog @loreenswriting @gooblerstan @livlaughquinn @miracleboysel @taramaria @alysianc @okiegirl24 @mjmunson93 @espressopatronum454 @baileydjart @un-lilting @gamorxa @ureleesian @scarlettphantom @livasaurasrex @smilingtheodoisa-blog @fanaticalfantacist @joekeeryswife @ch4ot1ccoff1n @daydreamin-lol @lacunaanonymoused @renaroo123 @calamitylass @thaniyaaa_ @thxliaaa @simsteo @dazed-and-confused101 @elamity @wateryblue29 @simpfoegeorge @ahoyitsagus @katieskidmore1 @helpimspiraling @jakeysangel @sunwardsss @eddiesskittle @bittafrylight @dumblreumblr @eddiethesexy @papaya184 @sincerelyklare @lovelyarinii @nina211544

(if theres a strike through it wont allow me to tag you, pls make sure your tags are on!!)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 4

182 notes · View notes

solarwonux · 3 years

Text

10. I still remember the way you taste.

yoongi x f!reader

w.c: 3.8k (YES I GOT CARRIED AWAY SUE ME)

warnings: smut, semi unprotected sex, make up sex, some angst. Briefly edited.

note: lol i think I forgot how to write smut but anyway, hi, um, yes I got carried away lmao. But yeah let me know your thoughts. Send me a drabble prompt hehe. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoy.

drabble game

“I still remember the way you taste.” Yoongi’s knee is wedged in between your thighs as he attacks your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses. “Yoongi, f-fuck, s-stop.” You say in between pants, placing your hands against his chest in an attempt to create some sort of space between the two of you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin and lifts his head, eyeing you down, pushing his hips further into yours, showing you how much he needed you. “I’ve been holding back from you all weekend. The guys even have a bet going on to see how long I can keep my distance from you.” His hand travels down the side of your body, bunching your silk dress up to your thighs. “Safe to say Jungkook, Hoseok, and Seokjin have lost.”

You roll your eyes. “God, don’t talk about them right now.” You run a finger down his clothed chest, stopping above the first button of his vest. “At least not when you’re about to fuck me in the bathroom of your best friend’s wedding reception” You pop the first button, earning an enticing low groan from your ex-boyfriend.

“Hey!” He exclaims flicking your forehead lightly, “he’s your best friend too.”

“Yoongi, I’m serious I hear their names come out of your lips one more time and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” You say as he apologizes with a nod of his head. You unbutton the next two buttons of his vest, stopping before pushing it off his body finally taking in the situation and your surroundings. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, nor was it clean. It had a musty smell making you wonder if someone had already done the deed before the two of you walked in. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” You quirk a questioning eyebrow.

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m not walking through the reception and the hotel lobby with a boner.” He grinds his hips against yours, proving his point. You let out a moan throwing your head back, hitting the wall behind you lightly. He felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand dryer was painfully digging into your back. You would’ve agreed with his statement.

“Just stay behind me, I’ll cover you. Who’s room is closer?” You push him away, finally creating the distance you needed. You turn to face the mirror, fixing your smudged lipstick. Yoongi was shocked, staring at you. God, you were so sexy, the product of his late-night escapades by himself. Especially after the two of you had mutually called it quits.

All throughout the weekend you were driving him crazy, reeling him in to then push him away. He suspects that was your revenge for breaking up with you. One you only agreed to because you knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no way to talk him out of it.

He had almost survived. Almost. That small buzzword was thrown out the window the second you entered the green room where he and all the rest of the groomsmen were waiting in to let them know the ceremony was going to start in five minutes. The long silk lilac dress you were wearing left little to his imagination, one he didn’t have to use much because he had spent years memorizing every single part of your body.

You giggle at his dazed look, sending him a wink through the mirror before turning to face him again, planting a slow sensual kiss against his lips, pulling away before he could respond. “Hurry up or I might change my mind.” You pat his chest and walk past him. “I’ll wait outside.” You say in a sing-song voice and Yoongi was now fully convinced you were messing with him. Exuding your revenge and he had foolishly fallen into your trap.

The walk through the reception was a nightmare.

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hand sweating in between yours. He sent glares into your back and they only got worse every time you stopped to talk about your new start-up business, with someone he barely recognized. He was proud of you for finally leaving your job. He had witnessed many of your angry breakdowns, his heart shattering every time you cried into his chest because of how unhappy you were working for your dream company. That when he finally got word that you had left and started your own company, boldly rivaling your old one. The sigh of relief he let out was monumental. He was proud of you and would’ve told you, praised you, as you happily explained your ideas. That’s if he was thinking with his head and heart not his dick, which was straining painfully against the waistband of his slacks. If it wasn’t for his suit jacket doing most of the work in hiding it he would’ve died out of pure agony and embarrassment.

“We finally found an office and we’re moving in when Jimin gets back from his honeymoon. Sadly, he says I’m not allowed to start decorating without him, scared I’ll put an outside fountain in the middle of the whole place.” You say, prompting a booming laugh from Jimin’s dad.

Jimin’s mom shakes her head, “he gets his perfectionism from my side of the family, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, honestly, I don’t have an ounce of interior design in my body, so I’d rather he be there to supervise before he yells at me saying that I’ve ruined everything.”

Yoongi could feel the sweat start to pool above his brow, tuning you and Jimin’s parents out. He had never felt this needy in his entire life. He supposes it's the adrenaline rush of seeing you in such a revealing dress or the fact that he missed you. The last year and a half without you had been awful. Everything reminded him of you and he had to fight the urge to just call you. He never did. Afraid you had found it in yourself to finally hate him for breaking your heart.

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Jimin’s mom asked, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, making him flinch. “Oh dear, you’re burning up, maybe you should go lay down.” The worry in her voice was evident, melting his heart. Jimin’s parents always treated him like he was one of their own, welcoming him with open arms when Jimin had first invited him and the guys over for lunch after school almost ten years ago. When Yoongi’s parents had kicked him out for choosing to study music production instead of something ‘meaningful’ they had taken him and even offered to pay for his school expenses. He owed them a lot, and if circumstances were different he would’ve thanked them profusely, just like he always did.

“I think he has a fever so I’m going to walk him back to his room.” You nod your head, letting go of his hand and looping your arm with his. “It must’ve been the shrimp appetizer, he’s never been good with seafood, right baby?” The evil glint in your eye was too much. You’re teasing was getting too much for him to handle. He’s never seen this side of you. It excited him.

“Right!”

“Oh please, hurry, we’ll let Jimin know you had to leave early I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jimin’s mom said, pushing the two of you towards the exit.

Once the two of you were away, closer to the double doors of the reception hall you leaned in, “How are you holding up?”

“Get me out of here before I drag you to the nearest bathroom again.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold your hand out before Yoongi can step any closer to your body. A sound of annoyance erupting from his chest. Once upon a time, Yoongi had prided himself in being patient. Tonight was not one of those times.

The second the two of you were alone in the elevator, his hands and mouth were all over you. Painting beautiful flowers with his mouth against your skin. The noises he had elicited from you made his chest swell with pride and his cock throb painfully against his pants. Every ounce of self control he once harbored was long gone. He didn’t want to miss another second where he wasn’t touching you.

Yoongi had almost lost his mind while you were fumbling to get the door to your hotel room open. Though, that was mainly his fault, he literally couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Yet, now that you were finally in the safety of your hotel room, Yoongi didn’t understand why you were still resisting him and it made him even more frustrated both sexually and emotionally. “What, what do I have to wait for now, I’m so close to coming in my pants please just let me fuck you.” He all but begged, even considered getting down on his knees and kissing the ground you walked on. Though, when he saw you smirk, he knew he had done exactly what you had hoped he would do.

“Fuck you.” He closed the distance, sighing when you innocently took a step back.

“I’m trying to but I need to take my shoes off.” You pouted, pointing to your heel cladded feet in front of you, arms behind your back as you swayed from side to side. Yoongi shook his head before taking you into your arms and walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell back sitting down as Yoongi got down on his knees in front of you.

“Are you punishing me?” He asked with a pout on his lips.

You giggled placing both of your hands against his cheeks and squishing them. “Yes.” You affirmed kissing his lips, “I think you deserve it for leaving me.” You gave his cheeks a light tap. “Now get to work or I’ll kick you out.”

Yoongi scoffed, placing your left foot on top of his knees. His fingers unbuckling the buckle around your ankle slowly, his eyes burning holes into your soul. You swallowed nervously as he slipped it off, his lips connecting with the skin of your ankle, kissing the tiny stick n poke tattoo he had given you after a particularly stressful week of finals, almost three years ago.

It was crooked. The points of the star weren’t as perfect as he would’ve liked them to be. But it had been entirely your fault. You kept moving, yelping out in dramatized agony every time he poked the needle into your skin, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He knew you were just doing it to scare him. Your pain tolerance was higher than any normal human being, which is why he continued his masterpiece, ignoring your pleas to stop. Nevertheless, with a childish pout you had expressed your love for it in more ways than one and vowed to never cover it up no matter what.

You had kept true to your word.

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed, kissing your inner thigh, then moving to the other one. He had long removed your other heel and was now showering you with all the kisses he hadn’t been able to give you in the last year and a half. “I didn’t want to break up with you.”

His hands traveled up the side of your legs, pushing your dress up further until the white lace of your panties were visible to his soft eyes. He bit his lip, taking in how much of an effect he still had on you. In all honesty, it made him feel on top of the world that your body was still so responsive to his touch.

“Why did you?” Your voice wavered and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Though, you had agreed with his decision to break things off. It had hurt more than you had intended it to hurt. You were left dazed and confused wondering how he could just wake up one day and decide that you weren’t enough for him anymore.

“You stopped chasing your dreams because of me.” The guilt he had felt every time he held you while you cried out in anger spilled out. The tears now fell down your eyes while he laid you down, taking your dress with him, bringing it over your head and throwing it to the side knocking over the glass of water you kept on your nightstand every night.

You jumped hitting his chest, “That dress was expensive.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re the biggest idiot I know, I hate you.” You said, burying your head into his chest, mascara staining his pristine white dress shirt, while you unbuttoned it.

He knew you weren’t crying because of the dress, but this was also not what he meant when he wanted to have you crying tonight. You were right, he was an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, grabbing your head making you look at him. His own eyes were now filled with tears as he wiped away your own. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t happy.” He kissed your cheek then moved down to your neck, tonguing the spot underneath your ear that he knew would have you weak in your knees. “I-I wasn’t happy.” He confessed against your skin.

He had never once said it out loud and now that he had, while you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, undressing him further, he felt childish. “You could’ve just talked to me about it.” You sighed moving your hands down his chest, your manicured nails scraping his skin lightly. He shuddered, the coldness of your touch was something he had never been able to get used to. He had missed it.

“I know.” He licked down your neck, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, taping it lightly. “I didn’t know how to approach the situation.” His eyes all but rolled back as you took his fingers into your mouth, moaning around his digits. Your mouth was so hot and wet. He wanted to be inside of it, fucking it until you were sputtering and crying tears of pleasure, his precum mixing with your saliva. But he decided he could wait to fulfill his fantasy, right now he needed to show you much he still loved and cared about you.

Yoongi took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his moist digits down your neck, painting a masterpiece until they wrapped around your nipples, pinching it, while his mouth kissed around your other nipple. The low sighs of pleasure you were making were astronomical. A beautiful melody he will never get tired of listening to.

“S-So you decided to break up with me, f-fuck.” You gasped when he lightly bit down on your nipple. It was euphoric, enough to have you reaching your orgasm. You were overly sensitive, overwhelmed with the fact that he was so close to you again.

“I thought we already agreed that I’m an idiot.” He joked and sat back on his knees, pushing your thighs apart with his hands. The only thing keeping you covered were your panties that were sticking onto you like a second skin and it was driving him insane.

“Let me keep reminding you then.” You smirked and sat up on your elbows, lifting your hips from the bed to meet his. “Break my heart again and I’ll cut off your dick, and this time I sincerely mean it my love.” He shuddered, your menacing words filled with possibilities and hope. Hope that after tonight you and him could start over again.

“Have I ever told you how much you actually scare me?” He tilted his head with curiosity, pushing your panties to the side. His mouth watering when he felt how truly wet you were for him. He wanted you in every single way possible. To drink you up like sweet honey dew juice. If he wasn’t so impatient he would’ve buried his face in between your legs, until you were cumming on his tongue.

“Once or twice.” You lifted your hips as he slid your panties down your legs. He threw them to the side giving your hip a light kiss. “Maybe more than three times.” You gasped as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you.

His eyes catching sight the other miniscule stick n poke tattoo he had given you after graduation. This time it was a beautiful cursive ‘y’ adorning the skin of your mound, the adrenaline along with the alcohol that was running through both of your veins that night, had numbed you out enough to have you lying still, giggling at his concentration instead of screaming out in pain.

He moved his fingers, his cock aching to be freed from it’s constraints. He was so painfully hard, aching to be buried inside of you. “I think I told you more than that.” He curled his fingers, hitting the mushy spot inside of you making you gasp.

“Yoongi, whatever, just please get inside of me before I kick you out.” You arched your back, lifting your hips as his fingers slowly teased you, opening you up for him. You hadn’t been fucked in such a long time. In fact, the last person you had sex with you was the one teasing you right now.

He huffed rolling his eyes and took out his fingers. “Stop threatening me like that.” He said, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, painting your lips with your arousal. “It hurts my feelings.”

“Then hurry up.” Your fingers reached over playing with the button of his pants, popping it open as you eyed him through lust filled hooded eyes, “We can play more another day, right now I need you inside of me before I die.” You pleaded. His eyes got wide, his mind ran faster than usual, making sure he had heard you right.

Another time, you had said. He had heard you right. His hearing wasn’t as bad as he claims it to be, especially when it came to you and anything that leaves your mouth. He nodded and helped you push his pants along with his boxers down his legs. He kicked them away. A low moan escaped his lips when he felt your delicate hand wrap around his hard cock. Your thumb running over his red tip, spreading around the precum.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked in a choked whisper as he tried his hardest not to cum in your hand.

You shook your head no, a pout forming on your lips, “I don’t, I thought you would have one.” You kissed his chest lightly as you kept moving your hand around him. “I’m still on the pill though.” You pulled away and looked up at him giving him a knowing wink.

He swallowed and pushed you softly, laying you down. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would ever happen again so I didn’t bring anything.”

Your hand around him fell to your side as he climbed over you slowly. “Tell me if it hurts okay, I’ll stop.” He reassured before aligning himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock over your pussy gathering your essence before pushing himself in.

“Y-Yoongi, oh my g-god, f-fuck.” You arched your back, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. You felt so deliciously good around him, your name falling out of his lips like a silent prayer.

He buried his face into your neck, planting open mouthed down your neck, biting down lightly when he felt you clench around him. “Can I keep going?” He mumbled. “I need to feel all of you.”

“Yes, please Yoongi please.” You gasped when you felt him bottoming out inside of you. The pleasure was mind numbing. Your pussy stretching over his cock after such a long time was otherworldly.

His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, placing your arms above your head as he started thrusting into you slowly. His eyes burning into yours, refusing to let your gaze go.

Nothing was heard, except for skin slapping against skin. His low grunts combining with your loud moans as he fucked into you faster. The sound of your wet pussy motivating him to continue his ministries. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed, the only thing that mattered was the desperate chase of your highs.

“Make me cum please.” You pleaded over and over again, as he pistoned his hips into you faster and harder. The knot forming against the pit of your stomach. You kept clenching around him and he knew you were close to the edge. He was too, he could feel the tightness of his balls as his thrusts became sloppy.

“B-Baby, I’m close.” He bit down on your neck as you arched your back, your nipples brushing against his lightly.

You dug your nails into his knuckles, raising your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “Me too, I’m so close.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours. The change of rhythm had you screaming out in pleasure.

He let go of one of your hands, not wasting a second in finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast circles against it with his thumb, “Gonna cum around me my angel, gonna let me paint your walls white.” He panted, his sweaty bangs falling over his eyes. He looked like a greek God, Adonis himself.

“F-Fuck yes Yoongi, fuck I-I’m coming.” You choked out, the pressure at the pit of your stomach finally breaking. Your pussy fluttering around him, your orgasm taking over your body in pleasure filled spasms.

Yoongi pushes into you harder, his thumb working against your clit as you ride out your high beneath him. Seeing you so fucked out was enough to tether over the edge, in a silent moan, his own orgasm taking over his body, painting your walls with his sticky substance, filling you up to the brink. “G-God, I love you.” He said after he had somewhat composed himself.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your body. You didn’t want him to move yet, “I love you too Yoongi.” You whispered leaving innocent pecks against his jawline. He chuckled laying his head against your chest. You brushed his hair away from his face. Both of your chests heaving at the same time, as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Was that okay?” He spoke after a long moment of silence. He rested his chin against your chest looking at you through worrisome eyes. “You don’t hate me anymore right?”

“I never did.” You smiled, making his heart sore, “It was perfect, I missed you...a lot” You added kissing his nose.

“I missed you too, maybe a little too much if I’m being honest. I really am sorry angel.” He cuddled into you further, feeling himself grow soft inside of you. You felt his arousal along with yours slide down your legs and you had to hold back from begging him to take you again and again.

“I know just don’t do it again.”

“I’d be actually crazy if I did.”

#kdiarynet #kpopscape #bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi drabbles #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios

330 notes · View notes

k3rm1e · 3 years

Note

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

accomplishments

hello anon! i’m sorry i took a while to answer this. i went a bit off track with this and got A LOT more angsty, so i’m really sorry about that. If you want me to make a much more fluffier or mellowed-out version, i’d be happy to. please, read the trigger warnings before reading this.

i don’t plan on writing more angst-y things like this, especially not this angsty, so don’t worry. once again, please, if you would like me to rewrite this into a less emotional version i’d be happy to

cw: swearing

tw: talk of god and the church, slight manipulation, repetition of words

accomplishments:

holy shit. you were in disbelief. a state of shock. one million twitch followers. one. million. followers. you were silent. shock can have many effects on a person. some scream and laugh out of joy, or a misplaced sense of mania. others cry, because they cannot handle it. some remain confused, because their brains are unable to conceptualize the event. you were silent.

what should you do? would a “thank you” tweet be good enough or would it come off as insincere? should you wait to stream? or would that make people feel you didn’t care because you took so long? through the anxiety you could feel the true realization that you now had one million followers. like a truck, you were hit with the most excited feeling ever. getting up, you jumped around your room. you spun and jumped and cheered and whooped and yelled and smiled and danced and were overflowing with joy, with the acknowledgement that you had done it, you had really fucking done it.

opening the window above your desk, without a single fuck, you screamed. “WHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!” let’s just hope your neighbors don’t wake up.

you stayed up all night, celebrating. tweeting out a thank you, you received congratulations from your fans and friends while you talked with the people in your discord vcs.

in the morning, your mother and father had woken up. with a newfound determination, you ran downstairs. streaming was your passion and you wanted to tell the world what you had done. but, because of limitations, your mother was your metaphorical world.

“mom! mom! mom! mother, mother, mumther!!” you shouted, dashing down the stairs, tripping over your feet. stupid wood flooring and slidy socks.

from your place at the bottom of the stairs, you heard her sigh, “yes, sweetie?”

you bounded over to her, setting your arms on the kitchen counter. from the hallway you could see your dad, who was sitting on the couch drinking his sunday morning coffee. “mom! guess what?” without giving her time to respond, you shouted, “i hit one million follows on twitch! one freaking million!”.

your mother didn’t seem as enthusiastic as you. “is that why you were causing such a ruckus last night? and, watch your mouth, even though ‘freaking’ isn’t a ‘true’ curse, i don’t want you swearing. especially not on the lord’s day. i couldn’t fathom going to church everyday, only to allow you to have a mouth like that.” she continued to stare at her work papers.

“oh, uh, okay mother. dad? did you hear me? i hit one million on twitch.” you awkwardly turned your head over to your father.

“she’s right, you know that, don’t you sweetie?” your father stood up, and made his way into the kitchen. “language like that, it’s shameful. surely, we don’t need you to have a private session with father paulson, do we?” your dad stood next to your mother, rubbing her back as he stared at you.

“no, no, of course not. um, i’m gonna go upstairs now.” you turned around, wishing you could simply disappear.

“without breakfast? are you truly that upset with us? we can’t have you ending up like those people, committing sinful acts and going to hell. god would never forgive you. we’re already taking a risk allowing you to stream, putting yourself out there.”

both your mother and father stared at you. your blood felt like ice in your veins. the white walls of your house seemed so much brighter, yet duller at the same time. everything felt a white-pure-pink-orange. your breathing got uneasy. choppy. in, out, out, in, in, in, out, in, in, out, out for different increments of time. 5, 3, 2, 7, 10, 9, 6, 4, 1, 6, 8, seconds, over and over and over.

“we just wanna protect you, dear. we love you, don’t you get that?” your mother stared at you.

you felt like a scene in those movies. the ones that directly cater to teens who thought their lives were shit when in reality they just hadn’t grown up enough to make sense of something yet. were you one of those teens? or is this actually wrong. you don’t think it is, but you don’t talk to others about this. family matters stay in the family was a common phrase repeated in your household. the church was family, they could know. your mother and father, they could know. others, they must not know, never know.

“of course, mother, father.” you wanted to force yourself to speak, but syllables were incapable of getting past your lips. your mouth was full of peanut butter from the sandwiches served in your elementary school cafeteria. but, the partly frozen chocolate milk always washed it down. “of course. i love you guys too. love you.” you smiled, a disgusting smile that felt violating to exist on your face, violating, violating, violating.

you dashed up the stairs, to your room, up, up, up. running in, you wanted to slam the door, scream out the window, puch your pillow, smash your pc, cry, whatever you could do to get out your emotions. but instead, you lightly shut your door and slowly walked over to your desk chair to see who was online. you would go live later. it was only 5 AM, after all. they could wait. at least, you hoped they could.

opening discord, just to see what everyone was doing, you saw philza minecraft was online. you went over and messaged him, ‘phil. philza. philza minecraft. vc please?’ in response, you received a short, ‘sure m8, gimme a minute’ you waited, until you heard the noise confirming he had joined.

“good morning phil.” your energy from before had receded back into the confines of your chest. the prior excitement was gone and replaced with a feeling of fatigue.

“morning mate, how are you? congrats on the one mill!” phil sounded excited, happy for you. you smiled, chuckling a bit.

“i’m alright man, just tired. how are you? and, thanks for the congrats.” you smiled, feeling the fatigue set in.

“i’m good. but you, you don’t sound very good. couldn’t sleep, could ya’? that was how i was when i hit one mill. way too excited to sleep.”

“yeah. yeah, i’m just tired.” you were getting a bit too tired to talk. the day had barely started, and yet the full-body emotional exhaustion had set.

“‘just tired’? the hell happened kid?” phil’s voice sounded concerned. fuck. the last thing you wanted to do was worry him. he had his own life and you had already caused enough trouble today.

“it’s nothing big phil, seriously. just my parents.” there, a slight bit of information. family matters still within the family, just a few words.

“they being shitbirds? or are you lying, and something big did happen?” he was being inquisitive, which was dangerous. questions were dangerous.

“no, why would i lie?” his inquisitiveness would continue, you knew. so you spilled the metaphorical beans. “they just, just weren’t as supportive as i’d wished they were when i told them. i was really psyched, y’know? and them, just sort of, not giving a shit? i don’t know man, it just feels bad.”

“i get you. it’s shit, when people don’t care about your accomplishments. my parents never really saw streaming as a true profession in the beginning, which led to shit like you describing. i promise it gets better though, even if it feels like shit now. and, for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you.”

“it’s fine phil, you don’t need to try to make me feel better. i’m okay, seriously.” you didn’t need or want his pity. accepting it would feel patronizing.

“no, you need to understand that i’m not fucking around. one million is a big fuckin’ thing, especially for you who hasn’t been streaming all that long to achieve. it’s fucking amazing, mate. be proud of yourself, for christ’s sake.” his fake anger chimed through your headphones. even though you were being berated, you still felt better.

“thank you, phil. i needed that.”

“your welcome, mate. and look, anytime your parents are being shit, don’t try to hold it all in. call me, or wil, or someone, okay? don’t hold that shit in.”

you fake sighed, just to piss him off. “okayyyyyy….”

“good. now, go take a nap or some shit. i love you, kid.”

“love you too, dadza.” this time, your words didn’t feel forced. the smile on your face wasn’t violating, but an invitation to better times. it would be alright. okay.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader angst #philza x reader

370 notes · View notes

weirdkpopgirl · 3 years

Text

Enhypen Reaction: When You Need Comfort

Reaction: When you need comfort

Reaction: When their s/o needs comfort

Genre: Mostly angst...a little fluff

Warnings: uh...some sensitive topics like food, nightmares, and mental health, self-harm. Please be aware of this before you read!

A/N: I wrote this for anyone who is going through a hard time and needs comfort ^-^

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

HEESEUNG

This time you sprang up from your bed, sweating bullets. Sobs escaped your mouth, as you remembered the horrifying nightmare you had just woken up from.

“Bad dream?” You suddenly heard Heeseung’s voice murmur in a sleepy voice. You almost forgot that he was staying over tonight.

You grabbed a tissue from your nightstand and blew your nose, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Heeseung sat up and gently stroked your hair in hopes to comfort you, “You’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. Is everything okay?”

“This week has been so stressful,” You said honestly. “And you know stupid me always overthinks every little thing.”

Heeseung caressed your cheek, “One, you’re not stupid and two, do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “No it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? Do you need anything?”

You nodded, “Just...just hold me please.”

If Heeseung was more awake he probably would’ve smiled at what you said. He happily brought you to lay back down on the bed and held you as you asked him to. You instantly felt better by his warmth and touch.

“Good night Jagiya,” He whispered.

You snuggled closer so your head could rest in the crook of his neck, before pecking his lips.

“Night, Heedeungie.”

┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈

JAY

You really didn’t want to go to Jay’s dorm at 11 pm, when it was nearly midnight. Especially because he probably had a hectic schedule today and he needed to sleep. But here you were, pathetically standing at his front door wearing only a thin sweatshirt, shorts, and sliders.

“Noona? I didn’t know you were coming,” Niki was the one who answered the door.

You tried to smile at the younger boy, “I’m sorry...but is Jay home?”

Fortunately, Jay had already headed toward the entrance after Niki went to answer the door. His heart rate increased when he recognized your voice. He motioned for Niki to let him know he could handle this. The maknae nodded and carried on with his nightly routine.

“Jagiya, what are you doing here?” He asked without thinking. “I mean not that I mind at all.”

For a few seconds, you looked at Jay who looked exhausted, most likely due to hours of dance practice. You regretted why you even came here in the first place when Jay and his members needed to rest.

“I-I...it’s not a big deal actually,” You lied. “I’m sorry for bothering you guys at this hour, I’ll just leave-”

But Jay took your hand before you could take off, “No you’re not bothering us. Stay.”

When your eyes met his own, he could tell that you need him right now. He knew better than to let you slip away like this when you clearly weren’t okay. He could care less if it was late.

He knew it must’ve been really bad because you never came to him like this. Usually, you kept to yourself. He felt a little guilty for feeling happy that you finally came to him.

“Were your parents fighting again?” He asked after bringing you into the dorm’s living room. He gestured for you to come to sit beside him so he could bear hug you.

“Yeah…” You replied, almost inaudibly. “My d-dad was cursing at my mom and she was saying really hurtful things.”

“And you couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah pretty much…” You gave a half-suppressed laugh. You always made it seem like a joke when you were talking about your struggles. It was how you coped.

You wiped away tears that fell without you knowing, “I don’t understand why they don’t divorce already. Our family is already a wreck.”

“If I could make everything better with the snap of my fingers, I swear I would (Y/n),” Jay gently moved your head so you could rest on his shoulder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tighter, “Can I stay here, just for tonight? I promise I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“You can stay here as long as you want Jagiya,” Jay kissed your temple. “Hell, you could even move in with us if you want.”

“Jay, you know your managers will not allow that.”

Jay shrugged, “I’m sure we could work something out. Besides, I need someone to help me cook for these six children.”

He smiled when he saw you laugh at his humor. At least you were feeling a little bit better.

“But seriously, you’re always welcome here,” Jay said. “Don’t you ever feel like you’re bothering me because you’re not, okay?”

┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈

JAKE

“(Y/n)-ah, I made some ramyeon for us!” Jake came over to you with a steaming pot. You weakly smiled when the puppy came to sit down next to you at the table.

“I’m sorry Jake,” You said quietly. “But I’m not hungry.”

Jake set the food in front of you and pouted, “Really? But this is your favorite!”

“That’s why you should eat deliciously for the both of us,” You encouraged, patting his shoulder.

“Jagiya, I know you’ve been skipping meals recently.”

In contrast to his words, the kindness in Jake’s voice didn’t change in the slightest. You could hear the genuine concern in it though.

You’ve never had such a sweet boyfriend like Jake before. He always wanted to take care of you as much as you took care of him. So whenever something felt off about you to him, he immediately wanted to find the cause so he could help.

“I’m just on a diet, Jakey,” You ruffled his hair, trying to downplay the situation. “I’ve been wanting to lose some weight.”

“Diet?! Why?” Jake was so confused. He had never seen you like this before. “You don’t have any weight to lose, Jagi.”

You avoided eye contact, looking down at your hands.

“I just don’t like the way I look okay?” You said in almost a whisper. “I want to be pretty like all those girls in the k-pop groups.”

“But you’re just as pretty as they are, (Y/n)-ah,” Jake said, not understanding how you could think you weren’t. He absolutely adored you.

“Did someone say something? Is that why you’re dieting?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, not at all. I was just looking through Instagram the other day and I got insecure.”

“I understand how you feel. But you’re perfect the way you are,” Jake said. He made sure to be careful with his words because he didn’t want you to feel hurt.

“And you shouldn’t starve yourself,” He added, taking his chopsticks and twirling some noodles around them. “It’s not healthy and I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Jake…” You looked petulant when your boyfriend held up some food to your mouth.

“Please eat. Just one bite, I promise!”

You just couldn’t resist those brown puppy eyes of his, could you? With a defeated sigh, you let Jake feed you. When you did, he kissed you happily on the lips.

“That’s my girl!”

┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈

SUNGHOON

“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon asked when he saw the look on your face. It was a mix between mild panic and disappointment.

Your eyes didn’t leave your phone, “I-I got 0.5 off on my math test.”

“What? That’s pretty good!” Sunghoon smiled, thinking that you were happy. But you weren’t, you really weren’t.

You knew that everyone hated that overachiever type of person who got angry when they got anything lower than an A. But it wasn’t just that for you. The standards you brought onto yourself was anything you did that was less than a 100, was considered a failure in your eyes.

“I-I don’t know what I did wrong. I should’ve studied harder,” You started to ramble to yourself. “Damn it, now my grade is going to lower.”

Sunghoon’s smile was crestfallen when he heard this. He knew how much of a perfectionist you can be but he didn’t think it was to this extent.

“(Y-Y/n)-ah, are you crying?”

You quickly swiped your cheek with the back of your hand, “I-I’m sorry. It’s just I really want to get straight As by the end of this semester.”

“I know you do. You’ve been working so hard,” Sunghoon said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself Jagi.”

“I know...but I can’t help it,” You said, trying to keep your voice stable. “I just feel like I could do so much better.”

Your boyfriend sighed, wanting to cheer you up. He understood the feeling of not being good enough.

“It’s okay to want to improve,” He told you. “But your grades don’t determine who you are (Y/n)-ah. You can fail a class and I’d still think you’re the smartest person I know.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Sunghoon’s ridiculous statement, “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I mean it,” Sunghoon insisted. A teasing glint appeared in his eyes. “Should I show you that I mean it?”

“Sunghoon I don’t think-” You tried to say before Sunghoon shut you up with a passion-filled kiss.

He was going to make sure you knew how much he truly admired you, no matter what your expectations of yourself were.

┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈

SUNOO

“I wasn’t yelling at you (Sister’s Name), I was just saying that-” You tried to keep your voice calm. You were flustered enough as it is because you were having an argument with your sister when your boyfriend was here.

“Stop acting like you’re better than me,” your younger sister retorted. “At least I’m not the one who cuts myself!”

Sunoo watched as your face turned red at her sister’s hurtful words. You wanted to scream and tell your sister to shut up and that she didn’t know what she was saying. But you knew that you wouldn’t be making anything better. So you stormed into your bedroom.

Sunoo quickly ran after you, “(Y/n)-ah!”

He made sure to close the door when he entered the bedroom. There you were with your head in your hands, trying not to pull your hair out.

“(Y/n)-ah…” Sunoo slowly walked over to hug you because he knew you needed one.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, “I-I can’t believe...I can’t believe she said that to my face. Sh-she has no idea how crappy I feel.”

“I know,” Sunoo spoke softly, gently patting your back. “Don’t listen to what she said about you.”

You pulled away but still held his hand, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay,” Sunoo reassured you. “I’m right here by your side. So you can just let it all out alright?”

You giggled when he peppered your face with kisses. He always did that whenever you were feeling down.

“Thank you, Sunoo-yah.”

┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈

JUNGWON

It was late in the evening and you two were the only ones still awake at the dorm. You had come over earlier to bring them food and by the time everyone finished eating, it was too dark out. So Jungwon insisted that you stay the night.

That’s what brought you two sitting together on the sofa and just talking. One of Jungwon’s favorite things to do with you was to cuddle and talk for hours. You always listened to whatever was on his mind, whether it was good or bad.

But tonight was different because Jungwon wanted to listen to you talk. He didn’t want you to think that he didn’t care about your life and how you were doing. So you just told him about school and how things were going at home. Somehow the topic traveled to your mental health which was something you hated talking about with others.

“It’s okay, Jagi,” Jungwon reassured you. “You can talk to me, I promise not to judge.”

You let out a shaky sigh, “To be honest I haven’t been doing that great.”

Jungwon sat up straighter so he could listen to what you had to say. Just by your first sentence, he could tell that you’ve been holding in a lot of feelings.

“I just hate myself so much,” You confessed quietly. “And I know, I know there’s something wrong with me.

Even though he wanted to say something, he stayed silent and placed his hand on top of yours.

“But I’m afraid to get help because my-my mom has anxiety and my sister has her own problems and I-I know it’s hard for my dad to handle,” You added, feeling tears build up.

You mentally cursed yourself, you didn’t want to cry in front of Jungwon but your heart wasn’t listening to you. You couldn’t hold it in, no matter how hard you tried. Jungwon held your hand tighter when the first tears fell.

“I don’t want...I don’t want to be a burden to them and I don’t want them to see me as weak. So I decided that when I’m older I can find out what’s wrong with me. But...but sometimes I’m afraid that the longer I wait...the longer I wait...I’m scared that something bad will happen.”

At this point, any walls you had built to protect yourself were taken down. You usually never let yourself be vulnerable in front of someone. You don’t know why you were being so emotional right now. Maybe...maybe it was because you had bottled it all for so long and everything has piled up until now.

Nonetheless, Jungwon didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. He felt upset with himself because he didn’t know you were feeling like this and he wished he had known sooner.

You harshly wiped your tears away and sniffed, “I don’t even care anymore, Jungwon-ah. I’m fine and I’m...I’m sorry for telling you all this.”

“Why are you sorry?” He frowned. “I’m your boyfriend, so you should tell me these things. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t.”

Jungwon held you tighter and kissed your forehead, “If you ever want to get help, I’m right here for you. And if you don’t then just come to me whenever you need to.”

You listened quietly to Jungwon’s comforting words and let the warmth of his hug envelop you. For the first time, you didn’t regret spilling out your heart to someone. Then just thinking about Jungwon made you realize that-

“You’re not alone Jagiya. I may not understand everything you’re going through but I love you a lot and I don’t want you to feel like a burden anymore, because you’re not.”

“You love me, Jungwon?”

Jungwon looked into your eyes for a moment before he leaned down to kiss you tenderly.

“More than you and I could ever imagine.”

┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈┈❀┈┈┈┈┈

NIKI

Niki didn’t know what to think when he found you sitting on the floor, hopelessly crying in the dance practice room. You had been here since last night, trying to perfect this one choreography. But you kept making the same mistake no matter how hard you practiced. At this point, you were losing confidence and breaking down.

Niki kneeled in front of you, “(Y/n)-ah?”

“I keep screwing up this one part in the dance Niki,” You cried out in frustration.

Niki gently reached his hand to wipe your tears, “Don’t cry, (Y/n)-ah. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not okay,” You said in denial. “If I don’t get this dance right, I won’t be able to debut. And-and then I’ll let my members down, my managers, and you.”

“(Y/n)-ah, you’re going to debut. I know you are,” Niki tried to encourage you. “Everyone has those off days, even me.”

You had stopped crying by now, which left Niki feeling relieved. Still, he made sure to hug you.

“Let’s just take a break,” He said. “I promise to help you with the choreography later, okay?”

He smiled when you nodded and cutely sniffed like a bunny rabbit. He wasn’t used to taking care of others, but he learned a lot from watching his hyungs. So just like his hyungs, he was going to make sure that you didn’t overwork yourself.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

#enhypen writers #enhypen fanfic #enhypen reactions #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #niki #ot7 #comfort #angst

254 notes · View notes

luimagines · 3 years

Note

Could you write something for Twili! Reader, possibly Twis lost daughter? Keep up the cool work!

Masterlist

Dad! Twilight! I've been asked to write Dad! Twilight!?

I think I can make it work. Thank you so much for the request.

Out of habit at this point, I’ve made the reader gender neutral but it doesn’t really matter.

Content under the cut!

It wasn't every day that a portal opens up in the Twilight Realm.

Even less so that you're alone enough to check it out without anyone knowing that you were by that sort of magic.

Your mother wouldn't appreciate it and would at least send ten people to keep you from going further and anther fifteen to try and stifle the unfamiliar magic.

But what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

You feel a little excited and bubbly at your very core. This is your chance! Your chance to see what's beyond! Your mom didn't talk much about your father but you knew that he was from beyond the Twilight realm and a brave adventurer.

Maybe it will take you to him?

Maybe you can go on your own adventure?

Follow in his footsteps.

Your mother did always say that you reminded her of him.

You've decided.

With determined and unquestionable confidence you walk through the portal onto the other side without once looking back.

It was colder than you were used to and there was a lot you couldn't really see in front of you. At some point it was pitch black and strangely warmer than before until it lessened again and you traveled to the other side.

For starters, it was brighter than anything the Twilight Realm had to offer. And startlingly green.

Immediately, you hear voices come from the side.

"I told you, the portal opened up over here! It's not that much farther, we can go to where we need to go."

You stunned where you stand and gulp slightly.

The portal closes quickly behind you, taking away your chances of changing your mind and heading back the way you came.

You’re quick to shift your weight onto your toes and try to make your way away from the upcoming company.

You don’t get far.

“Hold it!” Someone shouts. “Who are you? State your name and purpose!”

You wince and curl into yourself, no longer feeling as confident as you did when you first found the portal. You’re mother is going to have your head when she finds out about this. And if the people around you take your head instead, you fear what your mother will do once she finds out. She still mourns losing your father. You can’t bare the thought of her losing you.

“Hold on guys!” Someone else says. “I know their kind. You’re from the Twilight Realm, right? What your name? Wild, put your weapon. Down.”

You state your name and slowly look upwards and toward the one who was speaking to you. You both stare at each other for a moment. You notice that he’s Hylian with a fur pelt around his shoulders and tattoos on his face that seem familiar to you. He’s looking at you with what could only be described as shocked, horror.

You tilt your head and begin to calm yourself down.

There’s nine hylians around you, each armed to the teeth and all of them seem to be of varying ages. They all seem to be staring between you and their friend. Some going as far to hesitantly put their weapons away when you don’t show any hostility.

“...Midna...” The pelted man speaks up. His voice is so quiet that you have to strain yourself to hear him. “Do you happen to know anyone named Midna?”

You pause and frown slightly. “How do you know my mother?”

He chokes on his own spit. “Mother?”

You stand up taller and look down on the man with suspicion. “How do you know my mother?”

“We’re... We were..” He stutters and continues to openly gape at you.

“Lovers.” Someone else speaks up. You look at him, almost insulted at the prospect. He a bit shorter than the pelted man but holds himself in high regard by the way he looks at you head on. He wears a long and fanciful blue scarf with large golden embroidery of what has to be the country’s emblem.

“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyebrows.

“Who’s your father?” He raises an eyebrow in challenge.

This time you preen with pride and place your hands on your hips. “My father is named Link. Savior of the Twilight Realm.”

“Very interesting.” He smirks slightly, entertained by an idea that only he seems to understand. The group takes a step back away from you in unison and the pelted man looks paler than he did two seconds ago. It’s starting to worry you.

“Why do you ask?” You match his tone and try to at least make it seem like you know what you’re doing.

“I’ve also met your mother, if what you’re telling us is the truth. You look like her, sure- but you have his eyes. She talked a lot about Link and how much he meant to her. You look a bit like him too. You have his nose if you look close enough.” He shrugs.

“She was pregnant?” The pelted man falls on his knees. His eyes never leave your form as he does so.

Something clicks.

“By the stars...” You gulp and take a better look at him. What his companion said was starting to make things a little more clear to you.

Yes, you see it now.

You have his nose, his eyes- and his lack of self preservation considering the circumstances and the portal that brought you here. He knew your mother- intimately by the sound of it. He’s armed to the teeth like all the others and your mother did say he was an adventurer and a hero. This other man who you’ve never heard of claims to know your mother and father and all of the stories point to this man in front of you.

“You...” You trail off and blinked intelligently at him.

“But it’s only been five years...” He gulps and falls backwards, only barely catching himself with his hands.

“Does this make me an uncle?” Another one from the group speaks up. You snap your head to him. He has deep and long scars across his face and long hair that’s draped across his shoulder.

“You’re my uncle?” You blurt.

“I don’t think the timeline actually cares about how long it’s been for you.” Someone with pink hair speaks up and pats the pelted man’s shoulder in sympathy.

“But this means that I wasn’t.... I was never there... I don’t ever see her again, do I?” He looks like he’s going to cry as he falls to his knees and you’re a little self-conscious about where the conversation is going.

“By Hylia, I’m a grandfather for sure now.” The oldest of them speaks with a delayed revelation. You side eyes him to see his armor and the scar over his eye and bit your lip.

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re Twilight’s father!?” The smallest yells out. He has the most colorful clothing choice.

“I’m his descendent.” This ‘Twilight’ speaks aloud. He takes a deep breath and puts his face in his hands. “And now...”

“Congrats! You’re a dad!” The brunette of the group cheers quietly, trying to clear the tension but it doesn’t do much.

Your father looks up at you, tears in his eyes but he makes eye contact. “How is she? Your mother? Is she well?”

“She’s queen of the Twilight Realm. So I’d say she’s doing pretty well all things considered...” You reply and begin to rock on the ball of your feet out of awkwardness. “She misses you...”

He sniffles and chokes on a laugh. “I miss her too...”

You hum and look off the to the side. “Never really knew my father.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’d like to.”

Twilight takes a deep breath and stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. “You know what, I’d like to get to know you too.”

You smile and take it. He’s crying and you feel like crying to but you’re actually happy with how things have turned out.

You suddenly hear a voice break through the silence, calling your name with a screech. You tense and take a step back. “Uh oh...”

“Uh oh? What’s uh oh? What’s going on?”

Scarf man speaks up again. “Are we going to talk about Twilight being Time’s descendent? Or how Twilight’s child is from another realm? Or that he has a child at all?”

“No.”

“Nope.”

“Not now anyway.”

You curse as Twili guards burst through the tree line into your direction.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing bad but...uh... My mother is going to kill me.”

#linked universe x reader #linked universe #linkeduniverse #this one did not want to be written #I apologize for any mischaracterization #I've never played Twilight Princess #I know what happens but I never played so...#I hope this is ok!#The ending is a bit more abrupt than I would have liked but here we are

256 notes · View notes