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baby-yongbok · 12 days

Text

𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦

Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers

♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.

♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?

♡ Word Count - 9.2k

♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!

♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major

✧ Masterlist ✧

When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.

Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.

That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.

As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus.

You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side.

“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories.

“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”

You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.

“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.” He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”

Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items.

Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder.

“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”

“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.

“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.

“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.

You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.

“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin.

“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.

“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”

Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”

Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”

“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional.

“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile.

“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend.

Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”

“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art.

“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest.

“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection.

“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”

“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to.

In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating.

When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point.

“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”

You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.

The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.

Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.

“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?”

“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.

“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close.

“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”

“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here.

You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.

You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.

It was a dream.

Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.

He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong?

That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.

He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.

You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants.

You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin.

“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”

“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”

“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”

“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails.

“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.”

“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway.

You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.

He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him.

“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs.

“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal.

“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”

“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.

“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.

“You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”

Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all.

His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze.

His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.

He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes.

His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen.

His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.

He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time.

Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster.

She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once.

“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist.

Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.

He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance.

“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.

“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?

He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin.

He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times.

“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday.

“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right?

Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.

Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest.

Both of you feel like you can’t breathe.

Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.

“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.

A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.”

You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you.

“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear.

“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”

“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.

“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”

You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”

Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.”

It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”

Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”

Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”

His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”

Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious.

“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.

“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of.

“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape.

“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.”

You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.”

Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours.

A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.

You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you.

A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.

The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.

You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it?

On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious.

For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.

The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.

He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror.

You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.

The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name.

“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants.

“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?”

He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.”

Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.”

The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.

“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.”

“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.

“I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”

“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you.

“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”

Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”

Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”

“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams.

You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance.

You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart.

You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest.

You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him.

You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to.

Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss.

His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -”

“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”

He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again.

“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it.

His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.

He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”

You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan.

His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it.

Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”

You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe.

His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.

Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?”

He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you.

Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”

He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”

He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.

“You can. Please, I want you to.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.

“You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.”

“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.

“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric.

“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”

“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.” He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.”

His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.

“You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length.

“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember.

“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”

You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts.

He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit.

“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.

“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.

“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”

“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.

You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available.

Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.

“You didn’t finish that one.”

He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.

“It looks like you."

It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame.

Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.

The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery.

It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself.

“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders.

“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile.

“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist.

You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.

“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie.

“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you.

“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?”

Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.”

“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?”

You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh.

“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying.

“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.”

It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze.

“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.”

She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.

“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow.

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak.

“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles

“Shut up.”

Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you thought about this fic! Leave a comment or send an ask to let me know! ❣️

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r3ynah · 5 months

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THE FAMILY OF BEAUTIES

The girls the boys they all like Carmen.

(In this scenario Carmen is the fentons).

I just want to headcanon, that the Fenton's have a ethereal type of beauty, not sexy or hot. Ethereal, like if you didn't know that they're a family of Mad scientist, a obsessive therapist and a dead boy. they could've passed as deity's.

And the amity park's citizens can and will totally agree, they might've disagree and fight for a lot of things but the only thing they can agree on was the Fenton's was down to earth beautiful.

Like Jack Fenton for example, He has built that can seemingly bench you without any hesitation, but a himbo at heart, the greys of his hair compliments way it mixes with the black hair of his, if Jack isn't in his ghost hunting suit, he is pretty decent when it comes to his fashion sense, When Jazz first brought along her friends, the first thing they asked was if Jack was single, which caused Jazz to smack their heads individually with a newspaper.

And don't get me started with Madeline Fenton, because I cannot stop when it comes to her, My girl with her short straight Reddish-brown hair, looks like a masculine but also feminine beauty, Can and will bench you, if you have any ill intent towards her family, she came from a long line of riches if I say so myself. Tall as fuck, about 6'7 while Jack is 7'0. very elegant when it comes to fighting, that it looks like she's just dancing, Was titled as a Milf by Danny's classmate which made the boy groan in annoyance, Sam and Tucker calls out to Maddie and says "Mother is Mothering", just to get something out of Danny who looks at them with disgust knowing full well what they were trying to do. While Maddie is just happy for the kids to see her as a mother figure.

Now Jazz, My love, my girl. Her long Red hair that came down to her hips, and her blue eyes, made all the girls and boys in her college swoon, with her 6'4 figure she strutted down the halls with confidence, beauty and brains everyone would oh so called it, and her knowledge in martial arts didn't lessen her attractiveness, The humans and ghosts can agree with that delightfully.

And now her dearest sibling Danny, Danny is a nonbinary fuck that can gender envy anyone he meets, that's why he got bullied in the first place, he was too fucking beautiful and handsome at the same time, all the boys and girls of his school have atleast had a crush on him, He was the only cute boy there, what could they do? He stared at them with his icey colored eyes that made their legs tremble from the pressure, and that black hair that always seemed messy but in a good way. It didn't help when he got that lichtenberg scar, that ran up his neck and the side of his face. you should've seen him in P.E cause my guy got everyone staring at him.

And the Fenton family has fashion sense, if they really put their mind and soul into it, everytime they dressed up for a family reunion or just an outing it was a very sweet treat for everyone's eyes. like how it is right now.

The Amity parkers waved goodbye at the Fenton's as they went on and attended a gala they were invited to, it was supposedly because of the sudden rise and popularity of their works and how's it been helping the environment.

One citizen sighed as he looked at the car that family was driving as it slowly became smaller and smaller.

"You think they can handle Gotham, heard nasty thing bout that place." She questioned

"Girl, Gotham should be the one readying to handle them, that family may be beautiful, but their crazy." Her friend's answered

"well that does give them a more attractive look isn't it?"

"I hate how you're right."

The Gala the Fenton's went to certainly had an awkward atmosphere when they went inside, all the guest kept staring at them that it was starting to get creepy, did they overdress or underdressed, come on just walk towards start to talk or criticize them, because it's starting to get embarrassing for the family.

Gotham wasn't fucking prepared to meet the Fentons like as in, They had been awestrucked when the family walked in. A very tall man seemingly in his 40's with his hair gelled back, and a suit that fitted him too perfectly, gosh dang, even the homophobic guests couldn't help but stare, And then there was his Wife her straight her was curled and brushed out leaving a wavy effect that compliments her face shape, and that dress she was wearing was utterly gorgeous, fancy but also simple and mature, the heels certainly helped her height more and made her look more intimidating, The ladies blushed when she looks at them and smiles.

And don't get them started with the couples children, who looked adorable and elegant at the same time, The older sister had a aura that says: 'Im in your presence bow down' (And they would've if it was in a more private area due to the paparazzi's out the window). She wore a spaghetti strapped dress that had a slit on either side and was , making it more comfortable to move in for the girl, partnered by a white shawl made of silk, she had heels that also complimented he already tall stature, her hair was tied in a neat bun, with a few strands free to not make her face feel bare. And lastly the youngest everyone assumed, wearing a suit, double-breasted suit that was elegant and sophisticated it matched the way his hair is messed up for him to still look young, he was also wearing a black shawl that had specks of white making it look like stars. The family had a colour scheme of green, that made all gothamites present swoon, Including a certain family of bats.

(I might make a fanart of this later.)

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpdc #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc fanart #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny is nonbinary #the fentons are beautiful #amity park is just built different #Spotify

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voxsmistress · 1 month

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Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part NINE

PHHEWWW this seems a bit of a filler but I wanted to show you some little moments she had with the Vee's - after all not everything can be big dramatic happenings - how else will we get to the good stuff if they dont build some trust together ;)

Plus what do you think is Y/n's surprise?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

It had been a week since that last meeting with the Vee’s and it had flown by. You were singing at the clubs, having meetings with Velvette to get your measurements done correctly, being more social on Sinstagram and other socials, you had a few interviews with small time magazines promoting you. You were a busy bee. And you loved it!

Tonight, you were going to a club opening that had asked you if you wanted a part time contract there as a singer – before you agreed you said you’d like to see what the night life was like first, which they then invited you to their opening night. Once you had the date set, Vel had been nonstop harassing you with pictures, sketches and videos of her designs and then letting you know all the progress when you chose the outfit you wanted. Sometimes you caught Vox or Valentino in the background of her videos; both rolling their eyes dramatically or pulling faces making you laugh. Or sometimes they took over the video and had a little chat with you pushing Velvette out the screen completely.

It wasn’t just Vel that you were in constant contact with either: Vox had taken to messaging you every day letting you know that certain media outlets wanted to talk to you (after he ‘persuaded’ them) about an interview or have you on their show. He also, a few days after you complained that your phone had such a crap camera, sent you a brand-new state of the art VoxTek phone. You laughed for ages when you turned it on as he set the background as himself standing proud with that charming grin of his. No matter how many times you tried to change the background, after a few hours it always switched back to that photo so after a few days you just left it.

Valentino, he was a bit more subtle than the other two. Sending selfies of himself and the other two on SinsChat with flirty little messages to you, a few text messages here and there but nothing too ‘Valentinoish’. When you mentioned that you were going to the club opening, he actually suggested some ideas to talk about if you were stopped by the paparazzi. Which you doubt would happen but better to have the ideas and not use them, than need them and not have them. Right?

You were in the elevator heading up to Velvette’s floor, you had a few hours to get ready and she was already in boss mode ordering everyone about when she phoned you this morning waking you up. You could only imagine what she was like now. Which is why you have brought the coffee: one for her, one for you, and two more in case the other two appear. They seemed to have a habit of appearing when you and Vel were having a meeting, usually causing Vel to have to kick them both out as they tried their best to distract you.

Striding onto Vel’s floor you hide an amused smile at everyone running around like headless chickens and Velvette in the middle orchestrating the mayhem. Your phone buzzing in your pocket distracted you, walking over to one of the tables with no fabric on – you were not risking your undead life by getting coffee near Velvette’s designs – you pop the coffees, your purse and jacket on top. Yanking your phone out your leggings leg pocket (thank you Vel for that genius invention) you spy Angel’s face pop up on a notification. Pressing it you quickly read the message, frown appearing on your face. He was letting you down tonight, so much for your plus one. Now you think about it, all this week you hadn’t see hide nor hair of him and his usual constant messaging was getting less and less. Hmm. Reminding yourself to call him tomorrow to speak about it you pop your phone back in your leggings pocket. Okay no plus one, you can totally do the opening by yourself. Wouldn’t be the first time.

A hand grips your wrist and swirls you into a seat. No longer surprised at Velvette’s ways you just get comfy and sit up straighter in your seat. After the third or fourth time she’d done this to you, it’s easier to just accept the gentle manhandling.

“Finally, you are here. You know you were meant to be here an hour ago, right?” She raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you, lips pulled down in a scowl. Yanking her coffee from the holder you hold it up as a peace offering, your best sorry expression across your face.

Taking the cup off you, a quick sip later she hummed under her breath before smirking: “fine you are forgiven! But do it again and I’ll start cutting that pretty hair shorter and shorter – an inch for every hour you are late” she threatens, swirling away to grab another sinner to start on your hair while she got her make up out ready. She had determined she was getting you ready for this club opening before you even thought about how you were going to get ready.

You closed your eyes as they got to work, the sinner working on your hair was sectioning it off and placing it in large curlers to make bouncy waves in your waist length hair and Vel was cleansing your face. At ease you barely notice anyone else until you smell the distinct aroma of a certain cigarette.

“Good evening, Valentino” you murmur, completely docile because of the fingers combing through your hair. You didn’t realise you liked it so much, not remembering if it felt this way when you were human or if it was a new thing now you were in Hell.

“Evening Princessa, it looks like you’re getting all the works tonight”, opening your right eye you smile at the Moth Overlord. Over this past week you’ve settled into a more relaxed relationship with each other. Less threatening and overbearing sexual innuendos and more flirty banter, which you could cope with.

“Yes, Vel was determined she was the best one to get me ready even though I offered to do my hair and make up myself” a small tap to your nose with a brush made you scrunch it.

“Well darlin’, if you want something done right, sometimes you just gotta do it yourself!”

Humming in agreement you close your eyes again at the feeling of the sinner sorting your hair, sighing happily. Or you did until you heard a snarl and the fingers stopped combing through your hair: “enough. Fuck off!” Blinking in shock you look up to see the sinner running quickly away and a glaring Velvette stood with her hands on her hips. She flashed you a smile when she caught your bemused stare, “she was taking the piss bae, Val is gonna finish off your hair. It only needs a few more curlers put in and then to set”. Hmm … a smile tugged at your lips from her behaviour. Was she jealous that you were enjoying someone else touching your hair?

“Like you said, if you want it done right, you got to do it yourself. My hair is in your talented hands Val” you close your eyes again at Velvette’s instruction as she starts on your eye make-up.

Fingers raked through your hair that hadn’t yet been pinned up and curled, nails scratching at your scalp caught you off guard as a moan nearly escaped your lips. Okay. You learn something new about your body every day. Even in Hell. Clearing your throat when you hear him lowly chuckle you try to distract yourself from the luscious feeling that he was pulling from you by playing with your hair.

“There’s a coffee on the table for you Val if you want one. I know you are usually up late with shoots so figured the caffeine fix might be what you need” you tell him, nose twitching when Vel turns and her hair tickles it.

“You are so kind to us, mi cariño” humming your agreement you allowed them both to work, chuckling every so often as the bitched and picked at each other. A week or two ago you would have thought they’d hated each other the way they spoke – now you realised this was just how they showed each other they cared. Toxic and not your style but it worked for them so who were you to stand in the way and judge.

You must have dozed off as the next time you opened your eyes Velvette was putting the last touches to your make up and Val was taking the curlers out of your hair. Closing your eyes you felt yourself being blasted with a fuck tonne of hair spray. Not a hair would be out of place and your make up would not be smudged. You’d be surprised if you could move your own face with the amount they used.

“Now who is your plus one to this opening Princessa?” Opening your eyes you look in shock at yourself in the mirror that a random sinner was holding in front of you. The demon who looked back at you from the reflection looked like some kind of Siren. Velvette and Valentino worked miracles. In awe of their skills, you mumble how your riding solo tonight as Angel cancelled on you, missing the look they both shared behind your back as you twisted to see how the waves rolled down your back.

“Guys you are miracle workers, thank you so much! I don’t think I’ve ever looked this good even when I was alive!” Spinning in your seat you clap your hands giddily as Velvette giggles with you.

“Now for the outfit babes, then we’ve gotta get some photos of you posing before you go”, pushing you towards the dressing room you spy Valentino aggressively typing on his phone. Strange. But too excited to put on your clothes to give it another thought you barge into the room. A small shriek of excitement escaped your lips as you saw it finally. A black feather bustier with accents of the pink that you are starting to be known for, high waisted black leather pants which flared at the bottom, your favourite black stilettos with the pink bottoms were waiting for you. Pushing Velvette out the room to get ready you wafted away her complaints that she wanted to help you get ready saying you wanted it to be a surprise when you finally were all done up.

Carefully putting on the bustier, wriggling into it into place making sure it hugged your curves and synched your waist in but didn’t expose anything you didn’t want exposing. No nip-slips here people! The leather pants were a little easier to put on but again there was a lot of wriggling and jumping to get them completely up. And men thought we looked sexy putting these outfits on? The heels were the easiest thing to put on thank Lucifer. Slipping on the black choker you check that the little pink sapphire crystal was dangling correctly at the front of your throat, matching bracelet and ring then added. A quick spritz of your favourite perfume on your neck and wrists you were finally ready. Turning around to look in the mirror you grinned happily. Never in a million years did you ever think you would look this good.

Opening the door, you step out into the studio. Velvette and Valentino both talking about something heatedly together with their heads turned so you can’t read their lips. Hmm. Clearing your throat at them both to get their attention. Velvette was the first to look at you, beaming she claps her hands together as Valentino just licked his lips in a flirtatious manner.

“GIRL! You look AMAZING!! Right, we’ve gotta get some pics ready for your Sinstagram – you are gonna be trending tonight!” Suddenly there was a flurry of movement around you, lights blinding you as you were shoved in front of a backdrop. A photographer appeared from behind a big camera, him and Velvette directed you how and where to stand. Blinking in amusement you give your best seductive smile from over your shoulder to the camera, catching Valentino and Velvette watching you intently. Both of their gazes dark, Valentino was puffing aggressively on his cigarette. Blushing at their attention you lower your gaze before winking at them both. Screw it, you were going to have fun tonight! A few more photos turned into hundreds with you in different positions, places and sitting on different things. Your last set was you lying against the pink (you noticed this was a new addition in Vels studio) chaise lounge, back arched and your hair rippling down your back.

When you finally finished with the photographer you grabbed your phone and took a few selfies of yourself while you still had the light. Velvette appeared at your side, pulling your phone down a little you both took a few cute selfies together until a huff was heard from behind you. Smirking at the pouting Overlord you pull him closer by his hand.

“Come on you big baby, you’re gonna have to take the photos though as you’ve got the longest arms” you tease. Velvette clutching your arm on your one side and Valentino with his arms wrapped around your waist on the other you took a few selfies, laughing at how some of them turned out. Though you were having a blast with them both you couldn’t help but miss Vox’s sarcastic comments and charming smile. Shaking that thought from your head you check the time and squeak. It was time to get moving!

Thanking them both for helping you get ready and promising Velvette you would take loads of photos tonight you grab your purse and phone – glancing at the lone coffee left on the table you sigh a little under your breath. It woulda been nice to have seen Vox’s reaction to your outfit. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts. Jeez y/n get a grip! Walking to the elevator you miss the smirks crossing Vel and Valentino’s faces. If you had, you’d have known you were walking into a big surprise.

Taglist:

@tasha-1994 @azullynxx @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda @twinklethewarrior @wonderlandangelsposts @th3rizzler @martinys-world @rosiethevoxobesser

209 notes · View notes

theitgirlnetwork · 28 days

Text

Earn It

Ch. 4: Perfect

Baby Pics:

Birthday Looks:

Note: Okay, the love this story is getting is insane! I appreciate it so much because I love these characters and hearing what you all think. Thank you for the reblogs, notes, likes, comments and messages, I love hearing your feedback and all of the interaction. Apparently this obsession isn't going away anytime soon so I should update frequently. Also, I feel like Long Way 2 Go by Cassie is the perfect song to describe where Art and Heaven are right now. And Boyfriend by Dove Cameron gives me Heaven and Tashi. Best Friend by Rex Orange County reminds me of Heaven and Patrick right now. Let me know if you guys want me to keep giving song recs. There is a trigger warning in this one, pretty mild mention of eating disorders. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! MDNI! Love y'all <3

Warnings: Mild sexual content, mild eating disorder, strong language.

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams @butterflyybabe @sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

“It’s supposed to be right up here, on the left.” Art instructs, pointing to try and guide Patrick along the cobblestone road to the large black metal gates. “Are you…left not right.”

“Okay! Well, you said both so-”

“Yeah, right up here on the left.” Art laughs, shaking his head and resting his forearm on the hot leather under the window on the passenger side.

“Would you chill out? It’s…we’re not even that late. Plus, I’m not especially excited to be meeting two sets of parents today.” Patrick drums his fingers on the steering wheel, leisurely turning onto the road and pulling up to the gate.

Art scoffs, looking at his friend out of the side of his eye. “I guess I’m not under the same pressure as you.”

Silence falls over the car as they wait for the man at the gate to place a guest sticker on the windshield of Patrick’s car. The brown haired man sits with a wry smirk, staring forward while willing himself not to glance at his friend. He was happy that overall, things haven’t changed between him and Art despite the fact that they were no longer going to school together and his sweet, sweet best friend is clearly desperately into one if not both of his girlfriends.

To be honest, it was nice to see Art want something. He’s always been a, you get what you get and don’t have a fit type of kid. The kind of guy who agreed to race Patrick to the dorms when they were kids and slowed to a jog at the first sight of Patrick pulling forward slightly. But this time things were different. He wasn’t stupid. He could see the looks. He could hear the little snarky remarks Art hides behind his easy smiles and feel the pats on the back that are suddenly leaving behind a little sting.

But he was also still his best friend Art Donaldson. The guy he taught to jerk off. The friend he shares everything with. The best partner he’s ever had. Maybe that’s why he thinks he’s okay with how he looks at them. It’s interesting to watch these two women they met draw out a side of his friend that he could never. That doesn’t mean he’ll let him have them, though.

Which is why, he made sure to take the weekend off of his tour, to the coordinator’s outrage, to attend Tashi and Heaven’s joint birthday party back in their hometown.

People used to say that Patrick and Art were crazy close, but Tashi and Heaven were on another level. Apparently, the two were born a couple hours apart. Tashi on the night of September 15th and Heaven the morning September 16th. So here they were, driving to Heaven’s big ass house for their birthday party.

They pull up to the imposing home, and see various balloons and streamers. Next to the columns bracketing the stairs are two blown up pictures, the one on the right is clearly a baby picture of Tashi posing cutely with her hand out. The left is of a little Heaven, smiling hard with little pigtails on the side of her head.

Art hangs back a little as Patrick argues with the valet who is apparently parking the guests' cars, demanding he treat his truck with kindness. The blond man smiles softly at the picture of young Heaven and discreetly snaps a photo, sending her a text.

8:30 p.m.: Oh god, burn that shit. We’re out back. Tashi’s gonna come get you guys.

He laughs to himself and glances over to see Patrick reluctantly handing his keys over to the clearly annoyed valet.

He had been worried he and Heaven were gonna stop talking after he basically begged to finger fuck her and eat her out over the phone. There was an awkward lack of calls and messages for a few days and he grit his teeth and gave her space. But when he was sitting in the cafeteria with Tashi, she mentioned that Heaven’s first rehearsal was later in the afternoon and he couldn’t help himself. A quick message telling her he thinks she’ll do amazing revived the conversation between the two.

The large dark wooden door swings open and reveals Tashi in all her glory. She has her hair pinned up to look shorter and curled. She’s wearing a tight white shirt with light washed baggy jeans and golden hoop earrings. She looks great. A bright smile fills her face as she sees them, jogging halfway down the steps before tugging Art into a hug. “Hey, you guys made it.” she pulls away from him and Patrick steps forward giving her a kiss on the lips. Art doesn’t bother looking away and is surprised by how little the action bothers him. “You’re late. Heaven’s in the back with everyone else.”

Patrick rolls his eyes with a scoff to Art but otherwise lets the girl drag him along, Art following behind. The house looks even grander inside. Marble floors, long wooden tables with floral arrangements. A balloon arch leading into the backyard area.

Tashi moves about the place like she owns it, like she does with most rooms. But it was something about knowing she and Heaven had grown up spending time here together that made the men curious.

She steps out into the grass and smiles brightly at a group of girls that neither man recognizes, waving hi and accepting the ‘happy birthdays’ like a fucking celebrity. Music booms through several speakers and crowds of people stand in the grassy space. The gift table is filled with presents, split down the middle, one side labeled Tashi, the other Heaven.

“Tashi come dance with me.”

And there she was. Her silky dark hair is down and curled with a colorful scarf wrapped at the top. She was also wearing large gold hoops with a tight, white crop top and baggy jeans. So baggy that Patrick and Art got a clear shot of her underwear peeking through. She’s standing on the edge of the crowd with her hand outstretched for Tashi to take.

“Damn.”

“Fuck.”

Tashi smirks as the pair of men drool over Heaven, pushing from in between them and going to take her hand. “One second. You’ve got to say hi. The world’s worst boyfriend and friend are finally here.”

“Hmm,” Heaven hums, wrapping her arm around Tashi and resting their intertwined fingers on her hip. “Late, aren’t we?”

“Uh, there was traffic-”

“He said we didn’t need to leave so early-”

Patrick and Art look at each other briefly before back at the girls.

“Hm.”

Tashi shrugs, pulling Heaven along with her to the drinks table, ignoring the fact that Art and Patrick were tailing behind. “Did you invite my cousin Vivian? She's over there boring my hitting partner to death.”

“No,” Heaven snorts, grabs a solo cup, putting it between her teeth as she reads the different punch flavors they had in supply. “She’s a bitch, it was probably your mom, or mine-”

“Cousin Vivian, she’s the one who-” Art begins.

“Tried to drown me at Great Wolf Lodge? Yeah, fucking lunatic. I can believe you remember that story, I told you that while you were half asleep.”

“I told you I was listening, it’s fucking wild.” Art laughs.

“I don’t know it.” Patrick cuts in, eyeing the exchange with a smile.

Heaven shrugs, passing the first cup of punch she poured to Tashi and grabbing another. “Oh, baby, the story is dorky and boring.”

“Yeah and speak of the devil and she shall appear.” Tashi chuckles, bringing the drink to her lips.

Patrick reaches into his back pocket, glancing around before producing a flask, waving it between them. “Should we, uh, make these drinks more interesting?”

Tashi’s face immediately drops and Heaven rolls her eyes, kicking Art in the shin lightly underneath the lawn table, nodding her head in Tashi and Patrick’s direction.

“We have matches coming up. No alcohol.”

“You’re going against college kids, you’re gonna win regardless of whether you have a drop of tequila.”

“Yeah, that’s not the point. And Heaven’s in rehearsals-”

“Heaven is a big girl-”

“Heaven, what do you want to drink?” Art pipes up, grabbing a solo cup himself and walking around the end of the table Heaven is on.

She clasps her hands together, glancing at the first jug she sees and decides on that. “Just, some lemonade would be great.”

“Okay.” Art smiles, starting to pour.

“I know Heaven is in rehearsals. But it��s her fucking birthday.”

Heaven’s eyes widen at that, immediately shooting to Tashi’s face. Her scowl is set in stone as she leans down into Patrick’s face. Her grumble of “You think I don’t know that?” drowns out Heaven’s correction of “Our birthday.”

A second barely passes before Tashi is flipping her hair over her shoulder and storming off in another direction. Patrick scoffs, as if he didn’t already take a step forward to follow her, being propelled even further by Heaven’s mouthing of “fix it”.

Art sips his own lemonade, looking to the ground and shaking his head.

“I don’t want to hear it. Seriously.”

“I wasn’t gonna say a damn thing.” He laughs, ignoring Heaven’s small fist colliding with his muscled arm. He bites back a smirk when she winces, pulling her hand back to herself. “Did you…hurt your hand?”

“Could you like, shut the fuck up? Thank you.” Heaven whines, rubbing the wounded hand with the other. “You think you’re all big and bad because college tennis is doing you good? Giving your scrawny ass some muscle.”

“Glad you noticed.” he says playfully.

Heaven opens her mouth to respond, her lips part and no words come out as she drops her gaze to the ground, taking a swig of the lemonade. Two women step out of the backyard doors and make their way over to the pair, dressed in workout clothes. One of them is a black woman that could only be Heaven’s mom. She looked exactly like what Art envisions Heaven will look like in about 20 years and if you asked Art the future is fucking bright.

The other is an older white woman with a kind face and eyes that reminded him of Tashi. They looked like extremely unlikely friends. Heaven’s mom holds a stern face that makes Art feel like maybe he should take several steps away from her daughter right now while the other woman looks like she’d probably made the sugar cookies that people have been shoveling since he’d gotten there.

Despite having spoken about her family, Art knows very little about Heaven's mother. All she ever mentions about the woman is that she's very invested in her dance career and has always been pretty strict. Beyond that, whenever Heaven recounts pleasant memories from her childhood with Art, they always involved her stepdad, Tashi and her family, or when she was performing. Her mom is notably absent from almost all of her stories.

Heaven’s mother lowers the dark shades rested on her face to get a good look at Art before pushing them back into place, letting go of the other woman and wrapping her arm around Heaven’s shoulders.

“Hi, mom.” Heaven smiles in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, placing the cup Art poured her down on the table.

Her mother picks the cup and sniffs it before putting it back down. “Let this be the last drink you have that isn’t water, Hev. I think we’ve had enough calorie intake for the day, we don’t need you slow when you go back to rehearsals this week.”

Art’s brows furrow as he watches Heaven deflating, nodding quietly as her mom pats her stomach and talks about not eating any birthday cake on her birthday. He can’t envision anyone finding her to be anything other than beautiful, dancing or not. But he rolls his tongue in his cheek and stays silent. Maybe her mother knows something about her health that he doesn’t.

But from Heaven’s face with the verbal lashing is over, that’s not the case. Heaven’s sad brown eyes land on Art’s and she remembers that her mom hadn’t even taken the time to introduce herself. “Mom, this is Art Donaldson. He plays tennis for Stanford.”

The inspection is on him now. Heaven’s mom scans him from top to bottom before fixing him with an unimpressed look. “Is he any good?”

“Oh, I’m…I’m pretty okay-” Art says nonchalantly, cheek dimpling with an easy smile. Heaven’s mom simply blinks at him before shifting her gaze to Heaven.

“He’s great, Mom, full tennis scholarship.” She tries. “And…Tashi says he’s really good too.”

“Well, good for you.” The older woman says, nodding at her friend waving her over. “We’re going to give you kids some space and have a late dinner over at the Duncan’s house. Nothing but fruit and water, Hev.”

Heaven just dumps the lemonade into the grass, and refills the cup with water. Art watches as her mother murmurs a patronizing ‘good girl’ into Heaven’s hair, pressing a kiss there before slinging her purse over her shoulder and power walking away.

He searches his brain for something, anything to say that might make her feel better as she tugs her crop down a little in an attempt to cover up as her eyes follow her mother.

Heaven’s face is hot with embarrassment. She was used to her mother’s comments about her weight, her looks, her focus on dance. She knows that it's for a reason. She wants her to be the best dancer she can be and so she prioritizes that over all else. She’d given up her life to put Heaven in the best position possible to become a prima ballerina. Heaven is…grateful. She should be grateful. But it’s pressure. She’s doing what she loves, but it's never enough, there’s always weight to lose. She can always be stronger, faster, and work harder. And her skin could always be thicker. But even diamonds crack with the right amount of pressure.

Heaven just hates when people are there to see it.

Tashi is fucking pissed. Her hitting partner was sick and she needed to practice for a tournament coming up, so she’d asked Heaven to fill in. She couldn’t count how many times she’s sat up with Heaven, watching her dance, standing in as a partner, plotting what dance she should master for which audition. She doesn’t ask for much else in return. So, the fact that the bitch failed to show up at the courts knowing what this meant to Tashi…

She’d better have a good fucking excuse.

The tennis player storms around the back of the house, not bothering with the front door and streamlining for the stone elephant statue that kept the spare key to the back door to the house, Tashi snatches the key out of the trunk hole and pushes her way in.

Mrs. Whitlock’s car wasn’t in the driveway so she doesn’t bother stopping by the woman’s office to say hello, opting instead to stomp her way straight to Heaven’s studio. She pushes the sliding door open and prepares to tear Heaven a new one, her bag clutched tightly in her fist. She can hear her inside. She knew she’d be here. She probably found some kind of new dance she just had to learn. Or she’d forgotten her while daydreaming. Or she was late.

Tashi fucking hates late people.

“So, it’s fuck me huh?” Tashi asks, crossing her arms as she leans in the doorway. She was right, Heaven was inside. Facing away from her, standing in front of the large mirrors, something white at her feet. When the girl doesn’t even acknowledge that she’s there, Tashi rolls her eyes and steps into the room. “Fuck you, Heaven.”

She fully plans to whirl around and stomp her way out of the house. If she wants to forget her, ignore her, fine. Plenty of people would fucking love to be Tashi Duncan’s girlfriend.

But then she sees that the floor is soaking wet. Heaven’s bun is curling up from the water. The girl is drenched, standing in a pink leotard, her shoulders shaking. “Heaven?” Tashi powers forward, grabbing a wet shoulder, not letting her shock show on her face as she cups the girl’s cheek, forcing her to look at her and sees the tears streaming down her face. “What the fuck’s wrong?” She leans forward to see what’s in front of her.

A scale.

“Heaven-”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m-” Heaven wipes a hand roughly at her cheeks, turning in Tashi’s loose grip. “Nothing, what time is it?”

“It’s…it’s uh, four.”

Heaven’s watery eyes widen, a stray tear manages to escape as the girl glances down at the bag in Tashi’s hands. “Shit, babe, I’m late. I…got caught up. M’sorry. Let’s go practice. Really, m’sorry, let’s practice. We can walk to the court’s at the center.”

Tashi’s eyes flick between the scale and Heaven’s determined look. “You good?”

Heaven sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face. “Let’s practice.”

“Yeah?” Tashi asks, tilting her head to the side as she observes her girlfriend. The girl impatiently shifts on her feet, looking off to the side and Tashi nods. “Okay.”

“Um, so,” Heaven clears her throat. “I think my dance partners are busy. You wanna dance?”

Yes. Art thinks. Immediately yes. But, was he supposed to pretend he didn’t see that interaction? Was he supposed to act like he didn’t watch how quickly her mother was able to stomp out the light in her eyes? The flirty smile she offers him isn’t the real thing that makes his heart beat fast. “Heaven-”

“Look, Art, it’s my birthday. It’s not gonna get better in one day, and right now I want to dance with a friend.” She sighs. Heaven pulls his own drink from his lips, placing it down on the table and taking his hand as she backs towards where the crowds of people were dancing. “Is that gonna be you, or do I need to find someone else?”

The pleading look on her face wears Art down and he lets her pull him to the edge of the makeshift dance floor. “I’m not a good dancer.”

“It’s not about being good, it’s about having fun.” She grins, this time genuinely as Art lifts her hand, spinning her as she leads them the rest of the way.

“Yeah,” he laughs sarcastically. “Says the best fucking dancer in the world.”

“Okay, okay, it’s a little bit about being good.” Heaven giggles, pushing up on her tiptoes and raising her own arm, eyebrows lifting as she waits for Art. He shakes his head chuckling.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, go.” she snorts as he rolls his eyes, ducking down under her arm so that she can spin him too. “Okay, ow, my arm, too tall.”

“See?” Art snarks, hooking his finger into her belt loop and tugging her closer, rocking them side to side as Heaven wraps her arms around his neck.

“Okay, normally I’m the one being turned, so that’s on me.” She shrugs. The music changes and Long Way 2 Go by Cassie starts blasting through the speakers. “I fucking love this song. You know this one white boy?”

“What is with you and Tashi and calling us white boys?”

“Is that not what you are?” She asks, spinning away from him as gracefully as she had the day he’d watched her at the school theater. But this time he’s part of it. He’s not just an observer, even with her just dancing casually he’s hypnotized. He hadn’t even realized he was moving with her. She’s all there is. It’s just Heaven. “It’s about how it makes you feel. Dancing makes me feel better.”

Art nods, watching her intently as she turns in his hold, back pressed to his front, hands in his hair. “I think it feels just fucking amazing dancing with you.”

“Well,” she smiles, sliding her hands over his where they’re resting on her hips. “I think it’s fucking amazing watching you play tennis. I wanna see you play again.”

“I wanna play for you.” He says desperately.

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Heaven grins, facing him again, pressing their fronts together, giggling as he turns his face into her palm, pressing a kiss there. “You want to play for me?”

Before he can answer, the smile drops from her face, her head turns to the left slightly as she looks off to the side. Art turns his head, his gaze follows hers and lands on Patrick and Tashi. Always Patrick and Tashi. He brings his hand up to her jaw, gently guiding her face back to his. “I want you to look at me.”

“I am.” she whispers, looking up at him.

“Just me.”

“Art.” she says, stepping away from him with a disappointed frown.

"I know, I know, but-"

"Jesus fucking christ." She huffs, pushing his hands away completely and stomping off.

Art’s eyes scan the party carefully, as he tries to nonchalantly flick the ash from his cigarette to the ground. He has seriously cut back on smoking since he doesn’t have Patrick everyday to share them with and Tashi and Heaven turn their noses up at them. But, to say he felt anxious was an understatement.

He’d thought they were having a…thing when they were dancing before. To be fair he’s thought they’d had a lot of ‘things’ and each time they do, she retreats back. He’d like to be able to just shrug her off. To decide that she’s more trouble than what she’s worth and obviously the opposite of available and fuck off. But he can’t. It was something about her. Her eyes, the way she moves, her smile, laugh, just…Heaven. It’s what she is. The name just fucking fits.

Which is why he’s turned away three girls since she’d scrambled away from him into the house with one look back over her shoulder that had him wanting to follow behind her like a lovesick puppy.

So, here he was, blowing smoke into the night’s air while he stares at this pristine, glass back door that the girl he’s obsessed with that happens to be, at minimum, fucking his and her best friends, disappeared into.

He should have some self respect.

He should find a girl…hell he should find Tashi, the other girl who seems to occupy his mind, albeit less and less.

He should let Heaven fuck off if that’s what she wants to do.

How long can he beg her to like him back, to be interested in him?

How much more can a man take?

Art, apparently, can take at least a little more.

He flicks the bud of the cigarette to the ground and pops a piece of gum into his mouth, worried that Heaven will smell the smoke on his breath when he finds her. Art pushes the door to the house open, glancing back once to see if Tashi and Patrick were still “talking” back by the garden area.

When he’d first walked through the house he took the time to appreciate it in its glory. It’s a fucking ritzy house. It reminds him of Patrick’s house. Large and beautiful. It echoes. It’s not like his parent’s house at all. His is a family home, nicely sized but nothing as grand as this. Patrick always hated his own home, ever since he’d gone home with Art one Christmas, he almost refused to spend any holidays there. He said Art’s house seemed more ‘lived in’. Even when Art finally did get to see his best friend’s house one summer, he felt like his friend looked out of place there, even though it was where he was raised.

But Heaven…she looks like she belongs in a place like this. A place full of beautiful things is where she should live.

After searching the lower level Art stops at the bottom of the spiral stairs. His mom would kill him if she knew he was considering going through someone’s upper level without explicit permission like this. But, if…if there was a chance she was up there…

He respects the place enough to take his shoes off before making his way up the cold stairs. The upper level is dark and several degrees cooler than downstairs. He knows her mother stepped out about an hour ago, so he’s a little more confident as he slips through the long hallway, peeking his head in the open room doors, searching for her.

“Can we please not do this now?”

“So when, Heaven? I broke up with you and you don’t seem like you give a fuck. You haven’t checked on me once.”

Art pauses, hearing what he knows to be Heaven’s voice accompanied by a distinctly male voice in a room he can see is lit through the bottom of a sliding door.

“What was I supposed to do? Beg? I have too much shit to do. We didn’t work, that’s fine.”

He can almost envision the shrug she must’ve given. Her voice is so unfeeling, indifferent as the man spoke passionately, voice raising that has Art stepping closer to the door.

“So you don’t give a fuck?”

“Do you really want me to answer you?”

I wouldn’t. Art thinks to himself.

“Fucking-you can be such a bitc-”

Heaven flinches as the door to her studio slides open roughly, wood slapping into the wall as quick, heavy footsteps make their way into the room and suddenly Trevor is ripped from in front of her.

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Art grits his teeth, his fists balled in Trevor’s shirt, the men stumble away from Heaven a little due to the momentum of Art rushing his way into the room.

Heaven’s eyes widen at the act of aggression from the gentle man who literally refuses to bring his voice above a soft tone when speaking to her and it's almost humorous. Like, she didn’t know what was throwing her more, the fact that he’d basically appeared and darted in to defend her honor, or the fact that he felt like he needed to defend her from the literal nobody that is her ex Trevor that clearly came to her party because he was some kind of masochist. “Oh my god, Art, that’s not necess-”

“Jesus, Heaven, how many guys are you fucking at this party?”

Oh. Well.

Now that he said that, she doesn’t feel bad when Art’s fist goes flying into his face.

Shocked? Yes. Bad? No.

A little turned on…maybe.

And that tennis must be doing more for the blond man than just making his muscles look good, because Trevor fucking hit the deck. She’ll acknowledge that she was attracted to the way Art’s jaw ticks in anger as he positions himself in front of her and plays knight in shining armor. A nice guy like him getting so mad on her behalf…

“Oh, shit.”

Trevor sputters, gripping his nose and looking up at the man in front of him. “Did you just hit me?”

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that-”

“Okay, okay, Arthur…um, wow,” Heaven chuckles humorously as she stands between the two men, nodding her head toward the door. “Trevor, get the fuck out, you dumped me okay? You win. Get the fuck out.”

The red-headed boy grits his teeth in annoyance, pushing off of the floor but opting not to do much more than give Heaven a sneer because, truthfully, this blond, preppy looking kid she has guarding her knocked the shit out of him. But as he makes his way to the door, he stops and turns, unable to hold his tongue completely. “I wouldn’t bother, man. She plays games. They only give a fuck about each other. It’s not worth it.” He finishes as he cups his aching nose, turning and leaving the room.

Heaven looks at Art at that, carefully watching his expression. She can’t tell what he’s thinking as he stares after Trevor, tight muscles still tense.

“What am I supposed to call you my hero or something?” she jokes, awkwardly trying to break the silence. The room suddenly feels too full with Art’s presence in it, despite the fact that Trevor had left.

“He shouldn’t be yelling at you like that.”

“Pft, Art,” she giggles, wrapping her arms around herself. “I am not afraid of Trevor. Trust me. It doesn’t matter-”

“No one should talk to you like that.” he says seriously. He doesn’t take the bait at all, and suddenly, Heaven realizes they aren’t just talking about Trevor anymore, and not only does the room feel small, she suddenly feels naked, for his examination. His eyes are somber as he looks at her, he steps forward and she’s even more crowded.

“Did you know you have heterochromia? Your eyes are a little blue…a little brown.” She tries, taking one step back for his two steps forward. Art stops, eyes flicking down at her movement before trailing back to her face. He takes a non threatening stance, shoving his hands into his pockets and tilting his head down as he looks into her eyes with the softest gaze anyone had ever given to her. He won’t push. Not if she doesn’t want him to. “Are you enjoying our party?”

Our. Right now she’s running. And he’s chasing. It seems to be how they like it. Both of them.

“I am.” He says breezily, a small smile gracing his face. “I even danced with this girl.”

“Was she hot?” Heaven jokes, walking out of the middle of the room and resting her hands behind her on one of the bars on the wall.

Like a string is pulling him, Art follows. She leads this dance. Bringing him in, enticing him to follow her, giving him a taste before pulling away for him to trail behind her again. It’s like an invisible string is pulling him when he steps forward, wetting his bottom lip as he moves to stand before her again. “Fucking gorgeous. But she left me on the dance floor.”

“What a bitch.”

He chuckles, shaking his head no. “She’s just got a lot going on.” He shrugs, looking down at his feet. Art sucks in a breath at the next thing that pops into his brain, but he can’t stop it. He looks back up at Heaven with a wry smile and releases his breath. “But I’ll wait.”

The offer hangs in the air. And Heaven retreats. Her hand shoots up to her name chain as she uses the other to clutch the bar even tighter, dragging herself closer against it. “Why?”

“Because she’s…perfect.”

Heaven’s head drops immediately at that, she purses her lips, looking over to the large mirrors to the left of them, staring at herself. “No. She’s not.”

“Yes, you are.” He says indignantly, dropping the facade and taking away the privilege of space. He reaches out and encases her wrist gently in his large hand, tugging her closer to him. Art walks them over to the mirror and pushes Heaven to stand in front of him, rubbing his hands along her sides. “You’ve got perfect everything.” His hands slide along her hips and squeeze, eliciting a gasp from Heaven. “Perfect hips. Perfect legs-” they move to the front of her thighs before trailing over her pelvis and along her stomach, “Perfect stomach and arms,” Art’s hands squeeze Heaven’s shoulders before dropping back to her stomach, holding her against him, “Perfect shoulders, and neck-” he murmurs against the soft skin of her shoulder before dragging his way up to her neck, placing deep kisses there.

He expects her to push him away. He feels her hand slip up into his blond curls like it had when they’d danced, but she just pulls him closer. Her back arches forward slightly as she tugs his hair and he kisses her neck. “Art-”

“You’re so fucking perfect, please let me touch you.” he pleads. And forces himself to wait. All he wants to do is bruise her perfect neck. Leave his mark. Make her feel good. Know that he did it. Art knows he’s playing the long game. The first match that he lost to Patrick, it was just the first set. The game isn’t over. Art wants to win.

So he fucking waits.

He’s easygoing, and offers her a smile when she wrenches herself from him, breathing heavily and rushing off to a bathroom to get a first aid kit from his hand he hadn’t even noticed started bleeding.

“Does, um…does that hurt?”

“No.” He says, sitting criss-crossed on the polished wooden floor with Heaven perched in front of him, refusing to look up from his hand. “Thank you.” he smiles sweetly.

“Yeah, for sure.” She stammers, finishing off with the last of her band-aids. “Sorry, they’re all my skin tone-”

“No, it’s fine, thank you, Heaven.” He tries to soothe her nervousness. “She’s a fucking medic too, ladies and gentlemen. See, fucking amazing.”

Heaven rolls her eyes and leans down, pressing a light kiss to his hand. “All better.”

Art hangs his head, laughing breathily and before looking back at her, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You suck you know that?”

A small grin forms on Heaven’s own face as she rocks from side to side. “What? Why?”

“How is a guy not supposed to fall in love with you when you’re doing shit like that?” He says, laying back on the wooden floors, absently thinking how nice it would be to see her dance again as he envisions what it's like in here when she’s alone, letting go, dancing for herself.

Heaven shrugs, laying down beside him, nudging his arm. “I dunno. Remember that I'm dating your best friend…and mine…and that you walked in on my ex basically calling me the wicked bitch of the west-”

“He’s stupid, you’re a goddamn princess.”

“I just dance like one, Art,” she turns her head to face him and wiggles her eyebrows. “It’s all an illusion.”

“No. It’s not.” He says, reaching over and taking her hand, bringing it to his lips before resting it on his chest, toying with her fingers with his own. Heaven groans loudly, kicking her feet up and letting them slap back to the floor sloppily. “What?” he chuckles.

She sits up, twisting her body and planting both hands on the floor, one on each side of his head, her hair dangling around them as she stares down at him. His blue and brown eyes swirl with something she’s not willing to acknowledge as she stares down at him. Heaven leans down, bringing her face close to his. “You’re not making this easy for me, Arthur.”

He offers her an innocent look back, willing himself not to tug her down the rest of the way. “Can’t help it.”

“Hev,” a voice calls from the doorway. Heaven scrambles back from Art, leaping to her feet and sees Tashi leaning in the doorframe, an easy smile on her lips. Her arms are crossed as she takes them in. “We’re ready to sing happy birthday. It’s a few minutes ‘til midnight, you’ll officially be 19. You done here?” She asks, a cocky smile on her face as she raises her eyebrows.

“Um,” Heaven smoothes her hair out, glancing down briefly at Art who is still on the floor, staring up at her. “Yeah.”

Walking straight for the door, Heaven grabs Tashi’s hand and leads her out of the room, powering forward as she drags her girlfriend out of the room. She doesn’t bother looking back for the blond man she left behind, painting a smile on her face as they made their way back outside.

As their friends and family countdown from 10 she and Tashi are guided to the middle of the backyard with a large cake in front of them, their names scribbled next to each other. Heaven squeezes Tashi’s hand, pulling her closer and wrapping her arm around her as they look at the blue and pink candles lit in front of them. “It wasn’t anything, T.”

“S’okay, babe. Seriously.” Tashi says through her smile as one of the girls from school takes a picture of them, cupping Heaven’s face and kissing her deeply. She knows that he’s watching. That they’re both watching.

So Art won a set. So the fuck what? Tashi smiles to herself as Heaven grins at her, murmuring a happy birthday as they hug each other. She can see the two men standing together, watching them intently, not knowing if they were jealous of them or because of them, and she knows the match isn't over.

#oc #earn it #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x oc #art donaldson x patrick zweig #tashi duncan x oc #patrick zweig x tashi duncan #art donaldson x tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x oc #patrick zweig #love #art donaldson challengers #challengers spoilers #challengers 2024 #challengers movie

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bad268 · 14 days

Note

maybe a kimi antonelli x reader oneshot where the reader is a journalist and kimi and her fall for each other?

love your stories!

The Exclusive (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Journalist! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (thank you love! I had fun with this <3 I used to be a journalism major so it was fun going back to my roots lol)

Warnings: Aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1067

Summary: The exclusive interview with Kimi.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Right now, it was just a hobby. A little blog you started before college that then turned into a podcast and full-blown career. At least, that’s what it was looking like.

You started writing about the Formula 1 feeder series’ years ago because you wanted to give a platform to the smaller categories, and it blew up. It also blew your mind that these people who were around your age were already getting their feet in the door to the pinnacle of motorsport. You also had a knack for writing, so reporting on the drivers’ and the series’ themselves proved to be easy for you.

Soon enough, you started getting invited on behalf of different teams to interview their drivers. Mainly Prema, ART, Van Amersfoort, and MP Motorsport, but they were the biggest teams in each category, so it made sense.

The first time you went to the track was with Van Amersfoort in 2021. There was a race at your favorite track of Red Bull Ring, which you had mentioned on the blog at one point, so they invited you. You had heard of a new driver joining one of the teams, but since it was not Van Amersfoort, you did not plan to do a deep dive until after the race weekend.

You were running through the garages, looking for your iPad, so you could interview Oliver Bearman, the championship leader. Plus, you were already a guest in their garage. Might as well capitalize on it.

You finally found it, so you pulled out your microphone from your backpack as you walked down the pitlane. Most of the drivers were getting the track limits rundown from the stewards, so you knew Ollie would be free after the meeting.

Almost as if it were planned, you ran into someone while you were distracted. Looking up from where you dropped the microphone and a paper with the questions you had for Ollie, you’re met with a brown-eyed, curly-haired boy, and you're a goner.

You couldn’t help but stutter out an apology, but funny enough, he was doing the same. When you both finally stopped stuttering out apologies, he said, “My name’s Kimi.”

You told him your name, and the rest was history.

There was an unspoken rule that from that moment onward, mainly because you two became official not long after. You were only a guest of Prema. It was just a joke that Kimi made up, saying he would crash if you wore any other team’s merch on a race weekend. Sure, you did not believe it, but it’s not like you had anything against wearing your boyfriend’s team merch.

It also meant that you got exclusive Kimi Antonelli interviews whenever you wanted, and you would ask (manipulate) Kimi into messaging any driver you wanted to interview. There was one interview that boosted both of you into the ranks of motorsport.

“Kimi,” You said simply as soon as the podcast started.

“Y/n,” He repeated back as he looked at you over the microphone. You had recently started recording the podcasts to be posted to YouTube after being told to do it by Clement Novalak. He had a successful podcast, so you thought you better listen to his advice.

“2023 Formula 2 Champion has a nice ring to it, don’t you agree?”

“It does, yeah,” He laughed.

“Good, it would suck if you didn't,” You muttered into the microphone. “Anyways, I know this already because I’m cool, but I think my viewers should get the exclusive. Kimi, where will you be going next year?”

“I'm still racing,” He knew that was not what you were asking, but he’s been on enough of your podcasts to know that your fans love the banter.

“No shit, Sherlock,” You deadpanned with a dry laugh. “I mean what team will you drive.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He teased, eyeing you from his place across from you.

“I already know, and if you don’t spill the beans, I’ll say it,” You threatened. “I’ve got your PR manager on speed dial, so don’t even try to threaten me with Sophie.”

“Fine, I guess I’m going to Mercedes,” Kimi sighed in mock hurt, but you knew it was all for show.

“How does it feel to be teammates with the George Russell and share a grid with the guy who introduced us again?”

“Ollie did not introduce us, don’t get the story messed up,” Kimi accused as he leaned forward on the couch, causing you to do the same. “You and your clumsiness is what got us to meet.”

“Oh, please! You were a stuttering mess, too. Do not put all the blame on me!”

“I never said I was blaming you!”

“It sounds like it!”

“Why are we arguing about how we met? We are both saying the same thing!”

“You’re right,” You said normally as you leaned back on the couch before whispering, “for once,” Into the microphone. You looked up at Kimi as he also sat back. “Anyways, now that we’ve settled you’re going to Mercedes, what track are you most excited for?”

“Monaco,” Kimi said immediately.

“How did I know you would say that?”

“Probably because I told you this a couple of days ago when you tested this question on me, and I answered Singapore, but you said that wasn’t good enough.”

“Hey, don’t expose me on my own podcast here!”

“Ok, my answer is Singapore,” He changed his answer as he raised his eyebrows at you, almost asking you to dispute his answer.

“I’ll cut this out,” Spoiler, no you did not. “But I don't think that’s the right answer.”

“What do you mean?” KImi gasped as he laughed in disbelief. “It’s my answer!”

“What is so special about Singapore? It's literally just hot, that’s it!”

“Well, yes, but-” Kimi tried but was cut off by your laughing. Eventually, you died down, and he continued, “The atmosphere is insane.”

“The atmosphere is also insane in Monza or Red Bull Ring but ok.”

“I’ve raced there.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that!”

“You thought I would prefer a track that I’ve already driven and won at?”

“I forgot the implications of my own question,” You giggled at yourself. “Anyways, I think that’s enough for today’s episode. The blog post will be up tomorrow, and the video will be up by Sunday. We’ll see you on the track!”

~~~~~

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hyuckkaiji · 9 months

Text

my love - ominis gaunt x f!reader

summary; pt.2 to only mine. Ominis has loved you since the moment he met you. He found the universe cruel to give him such a love yet allow you to love his best friend. But now you're his, and he can never let you go. Not after all he did to get you in the first place. Ominis!pov up until the actual smut then it's kinda dual!pov pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian

word count; 5.1k

warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!ominis, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of cheating/infidelity, manipulation, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, If I'm gonna be real with y'all ... yandere!ominis

note; in love with this man, need him to treat me like this. idc if he locks me up in his basement as long as I'm with him. maybe went a lil overboard. Second ever smut 🥴🫶 also ik I didn't specify but the spell he used locked her in the house so she couldn't run away 🤪

The memory of meeting you is ingrained in Ominis' mind, every part of you is. The sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin against his. You are undoubtedly irrefutably the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth. He's known that since he was fifteen.

But you didn't love him back, much to his dismay. Although he could understand it. Who would love him? Not even his own family did. No, he didn't fault you for not loving him. He faulted you for loving Sebastian Sallow.

He would tell himself he understood, of course he understood. He loved Sebastian too, Sebastian was one of only three people he had ever loved. He understood it, he did not blame you, he understood it, he did, he swore he did. But he didn't, not really, and as time went on, his lack of understanding only furthered.

And he began to blame you, such an intelligent witch, and yet you continued to be fool when it came to Sebastian. You watched him make all the wrong decisions, for merlin's sake, aided him in those decisions. You not only stood by but stood with Sebastian as he delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all in hopes of saving Anne.

Constantly defending his decline into utter insanity, "If it were my sister..." But you didn't have siblings, Ominis did, and he would never do what Sebastian was doing. It wasn't right. When would you stop being such a fool? He told you and told you and told you some more how bad the dark arts truly are. But you always did favor ignoring his warnings.

Did you just not care about what he had to say? No, you cared, you told him you cared, and he knew you spoke truly, but you cared about Sebastian's happiness more. Even when he couldn't take it, even when he begged you to speak some sense into Sebastian, you defended your lover. "Would you not use the unforgivables to save a loved one?" For you he may, but he had pushed that thought away, doubling down, telling you under no circumstances would he ever.

His last straw was the killing curse, the bloody killing curse. There was no coming back from that. He could no longer stand by his friend, his brother, really. The only family he had, he couldn't stand by Sebastian when he wouldn't even stand by his own blood for using such heinous magic. He had expected you to side with him. You weren't that much of a fool. His heart broke when you didn't, Sebastian it was always Sebastian. You begged him not to tell, Sebastian had good reason for his actions. No one need know what he did.

According to you, Sebastian always had good reason, and you begged so prettily, the word please sounded so right coming from your lips. Until he remembered why you were saying, "please," why you were begging. But he agreed none the less, agreed to keep Sebastian's secret. But that was a lie, a lie he swore to take to his grave. Sebastian had gone too far.

Ominis hadn't slept. In fact, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. Tea, tea, you had told him, with some of the other ladies, wives, of Feldcroft. But tea does not take all night. He had opened up a book when you left, opting to read until your return.

He had wanted to beg you to stay in with him, wanted to let his hands roam your bare skin, wanted to drop to his knees, and hike your leg over his shoulders then and there. But he is a gentleman. So he decided to wait until you got back home to satiate his desires, you wouldn't be long and he's not an animal, he could wait.

Waited he did, waited until the book began to bore him. Waited until the moon hid away, waited until the vibrant colors of dawn began to paint the sky. You were like this sometimes. He had learned to work around it. So, like the good husband he is, he waited. Other men would have demanded you stayed. Other men would have gone out and dragged you back home, beat you bloody perhaps. But he isn't like that he loves you and he'll work around your moods. You always come back to him any how.

He knows it's just one of your moods or moments as he calls them. Those times where you think you want to leave him, where you think you'd be able to. But you know and he knows, he's all you have and you'll come back. He'll wait until you feel better, but he'll not sleep without by his side.

So there he sat, swirling a fourth cup of coffee, with just a hint of milk and sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. The sun not yet fully in the sky when he hears you shuffling your way to the front door. Perhaps you thought he'd still be asleep. He did enjoy extra time in bed on his days off. Perhaps you thought you could climb into bed with him and pretend you hadn't been out contemplating running away, again.

You did that semi-often. He would pretend to be asleep, he would pretend not to notice you'd walked your night away, lost in that pretty head of yours. But he knew, he knows everything about you. It doesn't bother him the way you feel, not really. He would love it if you loved him back. Hell, he'd be over the moon about it, but it's not important. You can hate him, he doesn't really care, as long as you're his, your feelings don't really matter.

As long as you sleep by his side at night, as long as you have breakfast with him every morning, as long as you welcome him home with false kisses in the evenings, as long as you quiver when his cock enters you, he's perfectly happy letting you have your little day dreams about leaving.

Something about tonight had felt different, though. He had felt off. It was not long before dawn when he let his worries get the best of him, the sky more dark than light when he cast his spell. His intuition was right, it always was.

Sebastian Sallow was in Feldcroft. Ominis should have been more diligent with his wards, he knew he had been getting slack. It had been so many years now, he thought surely Sebastian would have moved on by now. But no, he supposes, had roles been reversed, he would not have moved on either. It's his own fault, he should have never slacked on his wards. He would need to remedy his mistake.

Perhaps you hadn't run into Sebastian, perhaps it had just been a normal walk for you. No, Ominis knows Sebastian, even after all these years, he knows him. He found his way to you, his perfect little wife. Gods help him if he has touched you in any way.

How to deal with this dilemma? Oblivate maybe. No he doesn't feel right casting such a spell on you, a good husband would never. He needs more information before-

"Husband." Merlin, how he loves hearing you say that. Yes, yes, he is your husband, you needn't ever speak his name again. Only call him husband, stake your claim on him, call him yours. Yes, your husband. Your good husband, your sweet husband.

"Wife." His voice is calm, he looks over in your direction. Wand in one hand, coffee in the other. "You did not sleep, darling." A statement. "You did not come home, I couldn't sleep without you." True.

"I-I-" You didn't continue, letting the awkward silence settle, thick and heavy. "Come sit, my love, I was worried when you did not come home, but as you said, this is Feldcroft, so I did not necessarily worry for your safety." A lie, normally true, but tonight had been different, "Do not take that the wrong way. I always worry for your safety, I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, husband." You tossed your coat over an armchair before sitting next to Ominis. He set his wand and coffee to the side on a small table, uncrossing his legs, patting his lap for you to rest your head. A common gesture, he enjoys the way your hair feels like woven silk between his fingers. You obeyed, such a good wife, his wife.

You wiggled a bit before finding a comfortable spot on his lap. He was still in the same outfit. Though he was only in his dark blue trousers and his white button-down shirt. "Where were you?" His fingers started their routine, your hair was knotted, more than usual. His fingers gently worked out the knots regardless.

"Walking, I'm sorry, I should have come home. Should have come back to you." Liar, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to speak the truth. He knows where you were. He always knows where you are. Just as he always knows where Sebastian is.

It was one of his main reasons for becoming an auror. Of course, he enjoyed his job and enjoyed taking down dark wizards, scum of the earth. But his main reason was to keep Sebastian away from you, to keep you all to himself. You, you have been his reason for everything, his reason for living. His need for you is insatiable.

Before he met you, had Sebastian went down this dark path he might have mourned his friend, would have left his life but never betrayed him, never turned him in. But after you, you his sweet wife, his one true love. You're the reason Sebastian is on the run, this is really all your fault. If only you had loved him to begin with, he would have never needed to get rid of Sebastian.

Never needed to do all that he has done, for you, he did it all for you. Do not misunderstand, he regrets nothing but still it must be acknowledged, he is no betrayer by nature, he is only what you have made him.

"Speak the truth, y/n." He has no tolerance for liars, your falsities he could deal with but blatant lies, he could not. You shot up from his lap, moving to look in his face. Though his eyes could not see the worry etched into your features, he could feel it radiating off of you.

"Ominis." He perfers when you call him husband, but his name has never not sounded heavenly on your lips. "I speak the truth. Why do you accuse me otherwise?" Do you think him a fool? Blatant lies, by the gods, he never took you for a liar, yet here you are. He is a fool. He stands quickly, grabbing his wand.

"Ominis." You sound afraid, your voice coming out in a slight whimper. You've never sounded afraid of him before, something about it sends a jolt to his cock. You should sound afraid. He is a powerful wizard, after all, one of the most renowned aurors of your time. Him and his partner are responsible for putting almost half of the new prisoners in Azkaban, several he managed to capture on his own.

You should be afraid of him, you should respect him, you should love him. After all this fucking time and everything he has done for you, given for you, why don't you love him? Why is it still Sebastian. You would rather live a life on the run, a life of a criminal, than be with him?

He casts the spell while you still cower before him, one of his own creation. One, powerful witch you are, even you could not take down. "What...what was that?" Still whimpering, he'll give you a reason to whimper, a reason to beg.

Too long he has been the gentleman, the good auror, the perfect husband. Clearly, you crave something different than what he's been providing. "A spell."

"Cleary." You snap, fear gone, back again is his angry little wife. He loves you, anger and all, but dear, this not the time. His hand connects with your cheek, the sound of the slap vibrating in the silent house. He can smell the tinge of blood in the air, he must have broken your lip. He does not know his own strength, he should not have struck you so hard. No, you deserved this, he needs to teach you a lesson. He grips your face harshly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He knows it's bothers you, makes you squirm to look a blind man in the eyes.

"You will not speak to me like that again. Unless you enjoy being struck?" You did not respond, at a loss for words he supposed. He's never been harsh with you, never even raised his voice at you. He can be a cruel man, truthfully he is a cruel man, just never to you. It's a side of him he has made sure you were never subject to.

He leaned down, until your noses were almost touching. He could feel your eyes scan his face, hear your short rapid breathes. Fear or anger? He wished you would speak. "Do you understand, wife?" He could barley hear you and he has superior hearing to most men, "yes."

"Yes, what?" He did not know what he wanted more, for you to anwser correctly or incorrectly so he could strike you again. Feeling you tremble beneath him, it was exhilarating. You need to understand how good you have it, need to understand all the leniency he gives you is a courtesy, one he will rescind unless you learn to behave like a proper wife, the wife he deserves.

"Yes husband." Such a good girl, his good little wife. He should be kind, he wants to be kind to you. But making you bleed, making you afraid has awoken some animal instinct in him, unchecked need.

He tilts his head letting his tongue dart out to swipe away the blood building at your lip, letting the metallic taste settle in his mouth. A part of you he is only tasting for the first time, a taste he wants more of. But he pulls back, he needs to control himself at least some what, at least until you beg him to continue.

He crouches before you, his hands against your knees, face tilted up towards yours. "My love, I know where you were." You shake your head, "I was walking, I just needed to breathe, needed to be away from the house for some time. I-" You let out a choked sob, fighting back your tears, he wants to comfort you, he hates when you cry, "I just wanted some time alone, sometime to feel like my own person. Not just Ominis Gaunt's wife."

His wife, his wife, his wife. Those words made his cock twitch, not the time. He stood and struck you again, this time you cried out, this time you brought your hands up to shield your face from another blow. His hand snaked into your hair, wrapping the loose strands in a fist, yanking your head back painfully.

"Speak the truth woman, unless you wish for me to forcefully extract the information." He was a master at such tactics, an empty threat when it came to you. He would never harm you in such a way, but you needed to believe he would.

"Ominis." Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, but the way you said his name didn't have the intended affect on him. "Truth." Was his only response.

"I was with..." A hiccup, a sob, "Sebastian." The truth. Ominis released his harsh hold on you. Taking a seat next to you, pulling you into his chest, gentle hands stroking your head, rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "There, there my love. All I needed was the truth, if you had only been truthful to begin with." That only made you sob harder, but you did not pull away, instead burying your face deeper, holding his shirt tightly in balled fists.

When you finally calmed down, the only remnants of your break down being dried tear streaks and the occasional hiccup, Ominis held your face in his hands running a thumb over your busted lip softly. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, my love. I apologize."

"I-I can forgive you husband. Can you forgive me?" Did you mean it? Do you regret the night you spent with that fugitive? It doesn't matter, as long as you're in his arms, his wife, his love. "Tell me why you did it? Why you are not happy with me?" You face snaps to his, shocked at his words.

You stutter, unable to form a reply. "Yes, I know, I've always known. I just," He paused, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "hoped you would learn to eventually." A shiver runs down your spine.

What made you do it, he isn't sure, but you lean in, closing the distance, locking your lips in a frenzied kiss, hands coming up to bury in his sleek blonde hair. Guilt? Best just to enjoy the moment. He kissing you back just as hurriedly, hands tearing your clothes off in a manor of disregard he has never shown before. Slow and loving has always been his way .

In a matter of moments both of you are naked, your kiss a mess of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and nails raking across bare skin.

His teeth bury into your neck, sucking and biting an angry red mark into your skin. You moan in response, using his shoulders to steady yourself, nailing digging into his pale flesh. "You're mine, my wife." His mouth is back on yours before you can respond.

This feeling is new for you, this way that Ominis is treating you. But you can't help the spark you feel, the tingles making their way through your body. You rub your thighs together to ease some of the friction, to feel some sort of sensation where you need it most. Where you need him, your husband, Ominis.

He slowed down, feeling you shift around, kissing soft chaste kisses, his normal kisses, into your skin. "Are you feeling needy, my love? Tell me what you wish." You always come first, "Your mouth, fuck, please Ominis."

Normally he would, as soon as the words "your mouth" left your lips he'd be down on his knees lapping away at your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit just the way he knows you like, the way that makes you come undone and shake beneath him. This is not a normal day.

He forces you down on your knees, your face aligned almost perfectly with his waiting leaking cock. "Ominis?" You're confused. He looking down, looking into your soul again, it's sends a shiver down your spine. But it's different this time not kind, not loving, but angry, hungry, a beast in a man's skin.

"I always give you what you want, I do my best to make you happy, I fuck you the way you want to be fucked. And still you have the gall to shut your eyes and imagine Sebastian while it's my cock you come undone on." His hand is in your hair, firm but not painful, "No more love, you're going to start being a good wife to me. You're going to listen and you're going to learn."

For the first time you want to, you stare up at Ominis' face, taking in every minute detail, the way his hair clings to his damp skin, mapping out the moles the scatter across his body, the ridged muscles he gained from years in the field as well as the scars he's got in battles, you've never cared to notice all this before. But right now I this moment, you can't deny, he's beautiful.

"Lesson one," He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips, "use that pretty mouth of your for something other that talking back to me."

"How do you know my mouth is pretty when you can't even see it?" He sneers at you, holding your hair a little tighter and it sends a wave down to your core. With his other hand he grabs his cock directing it down to press again you're lips.

In the four years you've been married to him, you've never done this. Sex has never been about his pleasure, only yours. Time and time again he had delved between you legs until you came apart on his tongue, yet he never asks for anything in return. You're not quite sure what to do, not sure you want to, not sure you could make him feel good if you did.

He taps your lips once more, "Open." His voice is gruff, he looks like he's barely restraining himself. You open hesitantly, but he's pushing his way in before your ready. You moan around him in protest, hands shooting up to push against his thighs, to no avail.

He's using his grip on your hair to make you bob around him, your tongue wrapping around the underside of his cock almost instinctionally. His head in thrown back, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants. "Fuck, pretty girl, I always knew your mouth would feel like heaven." He's jutting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

He keeps at this, holding you in place until he find his release. He lets go of your hair, moving both his hands to hold your face in place as he fucks the last few thrusts roughly into your throat. Your nails claw into his thighs at the assault. He doesn't pull all the way out, forcing you to swallow his load, the salty flavor settling, not nearly as bad as you would have imagined... almost pleasant.

He pulls you up, peppering kisses on your face. "You did so good, my sweet girl, my lovely wife." You don't know what to say but you feel an odd sense of pride, having made him feel so good, having made him come undone as he has you so many times before.

"Do you want me to touch you?" He's nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You hum in response, "Please husband." You can feel him smile against you, one hand grips your hips and the other trails up and down your spine.

"Good start, my love. But I know you can beg a little better than that." He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Do you remember how you begged me not to out Sebastian, you almost got down on your knees, you were on the verge of tears, begging me, it was so pretty, you were so pretty. I used to touch myself every night to the way you sounded that day." He chuckles, "Ominis, Ominis, please, I'm begging you Ominis, please. Fuck I can never forget how you sounded." He groans.

"Be a good girl and do it again. Beg me to touch you." Your face flushes, a mixture of anger at him for bringing up that situation, embarrassment at his mockery, plus an overall heat radiating through your body at his confession and demand.

You don't give in at first, you need not be at two men's mercy, allowing two men to abuse your body in such a way. But Ominis' hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat, your breath catches, unable to successfully suck in another. "P-lease." The word is rough and broken. "Atta girl." His grip loosens and you suck in a greedy breath but he doesn't let go all the way, "Go on, love, beg."

"Please husband." Your tone is soft, low, testing the waters. Ominis says nothing. "Please, Ominis..." You debate, will you really lower yourself to this, begging your own husband to have sex with you? But he struck you, forced his cock down your throat without permission and you still stand here, aching to feel his long slender finger burry themselves inside you. You need it and you will grovel to get it.

"Please touch me, please husband, I'm burning up, I feel as though I will combust if you do not touch me soon. I need to feel you inside me, please Ominis." He moans, actually moans at your words alone and without missing a beat his hand is between your legs.

"Fuck." He groans, leaning in to nip at your neck, "You're so wet, pretty girl." He run a finger between your lips, gathering the fuilds with his fingers, bringing it back up to circle your clit. You buck at the contract, electricity coursing through your veins as his slender fingers circle delicately, the pace and pressure teasing.

"Is this what you want, wife?" You grab his hand, trying to force him to put more pressure, how you like it, how he knows you like it, what will make you come undone in a matter of minutes. But he only tsks at you catching your hand with his free one, pulling it away as he continues his teasing ministrations.

"Yes, husband, yes, please" You whine, moving to grip his shoulders for balance. At your surrender, Ominis moves his free hand back to your hips, holding you in place.

"Did you beg Sebastian like this?" He doesn't stop touching you, "Did he make you this wet?" The teasing is becoming too much, you really do feel like you'll combust, "Does he know how to touch you just the way you like?" His fingers adds more pressure, pace quicking and in mere moments you're putty in his arms. Body tensing and convulsing against him as his strength only is the only thing to keep you upright.

His free arm wraps protectively around your waist, his other collects your juices, giving one final swipe over your clit that makes you jump in hypersensitivity. He brings the his wet fingers to your mouth, forcing them in with little resistance. "Do you taste that, pretty girl?" You hum around him.

"I did that to you. Not Sebastian. Me, your husband. This," his arm slides from your waist down to your bottom, grabbing the flesh roughly, "is mine. You are mine." He pulls his fingers free of your mouth with a pop, a thin string of saliva still connecting you two.

Before you can prepare yourself, Ominis' hand is back between your legs, three fingers buried deep inside you, curling at that spongy spot that makes you jump, that spot he always knows how to hit.

"This." Another curl of his slender fingers, "is mine. Only I get to touch this, taste it. Do you understand, wife?" That sensations is building in the pit of your stomach for a second time, it's too much you think, you always stop after the first one, he never pushes you further. You try to shove at his chest, he doesn't budge, but it's more so that your arms are too weak to actually push.

"Who do you belong to, my love?" You're so close, you can feel your resolve snapping like an old rope, string by tedious string. He stopped when you don't respond and you cry out in protest, trying to rock your hips against his still fingers. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ominis, I belong to you, my husband, my beloved. Fuck, please, I'm so close, please Om" His pace is punishing and in all of three strokes you feel the coil snap, see white behind your. You hold onto Ominis, trying to ground yourself to this reality as his fingers continue, drawing out your orgasm.

You couldn't stand if you tried, couldn't move a single muscle. But Ominis isn't done with you yet, no, his plan is to break you. You are his, only his, today is the day you finally get that lesson through your thick skull. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms to your shared bed.

He lays you down and you give an appreciative moan, your bed is so soft, familiar and welcoming. It smells like him you realize in your haze, you've never stopped to notice how his scent clings to everything in this house. How his scent gives you a feeling of safety, of home.

Ominis lines himself up with your entrance while you aren't paying attention, half gone nuzzling your face into the comforter. You moan at the intrusion, a mix of pain and pleasure and total oversimulation. You screw your eyes shut, trying to adjust to him inside you.

"Over my dead fucking body." Ominis grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Keep your eyes open, I want you to watch me, look at my face as I fuck you. Remember who's cock it is that's inside you." You nod, or you think you did, your body is so heavy, so far out of your control. All that exists is the overwhelming pleasure and Ominis face.

Ominis, you watch as his jaw clenchs, his head falling into your chest before picking back up just so you can see him, his brows scrunch together in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut. His hold on your waist is brusing as his hips jut against yours. Once again your struck by how beautiful he his, how consumed he is by you. You feel that pride again. You make him feel like that, why has it taken you so long to see it.

You reach a hand up, just as his trusts become erratic, your own body falling in sync with his, you pulls his face down just just enough to let your lips meet his in a ghost of a kiss. You finish for the third time this morning just as you feel him shoot his load inside you, he pulls you up holding you tighter against him, burying his face in your chest as he rides out his orgasm.

You rest your head on top of his, running a near limp hand softly through his blonde hair. "I-" the word catches in your throat, "I love you, Ominis."

He pulls away at that, bringing you into a gentle kiss. "I knew you would. I knew it. That's why I had to get rid of Sebastian. My wife, my love, you're mine."

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #˗ˏˋ꒰ 𖹭 my work 𖹭 ꒱ˎˊ˗

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kookslastbutton · 11 months

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. V

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,342

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jk has milk obsession, oc injured, both lonely :(, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: I've heard the requests and I think it's time to fulfill them–how did they get together?! Yes, it's here and I'm excited to finally share! Also, yes this took up whole chapter so a tiny break from present-day stuff but we'll be back at it next chapter. 💞

<< ch. IV ༓ ch. Vl >> | series masterlist

Before marrying you, Jungkook had the same routine. He got up, showered, brushed his teeth, put work clothes on, grabbed breakfast, and ran out the door with twenty minutes to spare. Trying to find a parking spot at 7 a.m. at the university was no joke and he had to leave early or some college kid would take the last spot and not think twice.

His night routine was similar. Jungkook finished the day between 5 and 6 pm, slowly regretting he ever agreed to teach evening classes. He’d kick off his shoes, eat dinner, grade some of his student’s papers if needed, brush his teeth again, and went to bed.

It was a constant cycle and with no one around, not even a pet, Jungkook’s life was fairly quiet and systematic. Sometimes his buddies would come over on the weekend for a couple of hours and that surely rocked his world.

But that wouldn’t happen often during the school season due to his ridiculously packed teaching schedule. The most recent person he’d hang around during those months was Taehyung and if he wasn’t free, Jungkook would spend his time at the grocery store–stocking up on milk.

4 years ago

“That was two weeks ago man,” Jungkook says, pushing a cart with five-gallon jugs of milk to his car. He’s on the phone with Taehyung who's reminiscing about the grand opening of the new art exhibit and how “lovely” it was to meet you there.

Jungkook doesn’t need reminding though.

He clearly remembers seeing you there and Taehyung happily making a complete fool of him once he found out who you were. Thankfully you hadn’t seemed to mind too much since you and Taehyung soon moved on to discuss various art theories, masterpieces, and underrepresented artists.

“You didn't have to stay y'know.” If Jungkook didn't know any better he'd think Taehyung was salty. "You could've left at 8 pm like you planned. __ and I would have been fine."

Jungkook winces hearing the man's argument. He did think about going home at 8, but it unsettled him to leave you alone with Taehyung. His colleague was enjoying himself a little too much that night and there’s no telling what he’d do or say when he’s overly comfortable.

Jungkook had to stay until you left.

"Are you kidding me? Leaving you unsupervised would've been the worst idea after all your endless blubbering." Jungkook pops the trunk of his car, stuffing the jugs of milk inside. "God knows what you'd scar __ with."

On the other line, Taehyung smirks through the speaker. "No, that's not it......you weren't going to leave me alone with a woman, an attractive one at that."

Jungkook grabs the last jug of milk, slamming it on the floorboard. "Student, and stop talking about her like that. She's my stu—"

"Say student one more time and I'm going to take all your milk and give it to Yoongi hyung's cats."

"I swear to god, Taehyung, if you touch my milk I'm never going to another art museum or wine tasting with you again." Jungkook is very protective of his dairy products.

"That's okay. I don't need you when __ says she'll be happy to go with me sometime." Smug bastard, Jungkook thinks. There's no way you said that.

"That's bull Taehy—"

"Look she's in her masters and is literally eight years younger than you. It's not that serious so stop acting like she's fresh out of high school. Besides, you said it yourself, she's not a child."

Jungkook grunts, shoving the cart into the others. "She's a young lady who happens to be enrolled in the school. As faculty, we have no business thinking or talking about her outside those terms."

"For fucksake, Kook. You always make things so complicated!" Taehyung's baritone voice cracks through the speaker. "I'm just trying to get you to admit that you're into her some way or another. How many other students have I stayed to talk to and you couldn't give a—"

Just then a loud, high-pitch screech interrupts the call. Jungkook whips his head around immediately. He doesn't spot anything at first but a string of profanities remains audible in the distance.

"Jungkook, are you okay?"

"Yeah, but someones screaming and I can't tell where it's coming from." Jungkook walks around the grocery parking lot, eyes darting left and right. "Oh shit!"

There, near the bus stop, you lay on your side with your right leg stretched out and blood running from your temple. You try getting up but you fall right back down, cursing sharply.

"Taehyung I gotta go, it's __. I don't know what happened but she's laying by the bus stop and I think she needs help!" Jungkook shuts his phone and races to where you lay. He kneels next to you with sheer horror on his face. "__, what happened? What can I do?"

"Damn college boys, Dr. Jeon," you spit, dragging your leg up as far as you can. You reach for your bag which had flung about a foot away when you crashed. "So fucking eager to get off the bus and—oh damn that hurts like a bitch!"

"What hurts?" Jungkook lunges forward to catch your torso from slamming on the hard concrete. "Stay still okay? We need to get you to the hospital."

"I'm all set, but thanks. It'll likely heal in a day."

Jungkook shakes his head and wraps an arm under your back and legs. "Can you put your arms around my neck?"

"Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but I don't want to go to the hospital. Please."

You're serious. No trace of bluffing or even simply trying to act tough. You really don't want to go.

"You need to be checked by a doctor sweetheart," Jungkook insists. "Whatever happened has made it so you can't walk. C'mon, my car is nearby and I'll drive you over."

"No, wait!" He feels you push against his chest.

"__. I'm not leaving you without making sure you didn't break a bone or something. I don't want to make things worse but you don't look so hot right now. So please, let me take you." Jungkook lifts you up when you give a barely consenting yes.

"You sprained your ankle pretty bad hun." Dr. Kim Seokjin draws your attention to the X-ray scan. "Second degree." He points to the visual of your partially torn ligament. "There's going to be a lot of swelling so you're gonna need to stay off your foot for at least 4 weeks."

"Do I have to stay here?" is your first question.

"For the first couple of weeks, we strongly advise—yes." Dr. Kim moves on to the next X-ray scan. "You also cracked a rib which will also take about 4 weeks to heal, or more. Of course you're head has suffered a mild concussion as well but it's very mild thankfully." Dr. Kim catches sight of Jungkook next to you, staring at the scans. "You're wife's going to be okay," he says mid-diagnoses.

"We're not—" you start to say but Dr. Kim continues talking.

"Wife, girlfriend, lover, what have you. The point is, much of what we have here will recover with a month of rest, ice, and elevation." He takes a pen from his pocket and starts jotting down something on paper. "I recommend two weeks here for moderation purposes. If things look good, you finish the healing at home. Still, be careful though, no funny business."

The blank looks on both your faces tell Dr. Kim he wasn't clear enough. "Yah, my filters going to die with you two doe-eyed deer. No funny business means no sex!"

"Oh god!" You outburst, mortified by the thought. Jungkook whips his head to your slack-jawed expression. "Dr. Kim, it's not like that between us."

The older man suddenly zeros in on your professor, eyes narrowing slightly. "What's the matter son? Having trouble getting it up?"

Jungkook jolts in his seat, startled by the crass response. "I—no, what? There's nothing wrong with my—"

"We're not together!" You shout before Jungkook's sentence finishes. "We're friends." Saying that your professor brought you here sounded a little odd for some reason, especially when Dr. Kim was already convinced you two were a thing.

"Mhm sure, heard the same thing from my wife before we went off and eloped." Dr. Kim treads to the door. If he has a dime for how many times he's heard that "we're friends" bs he'd be...well, he's already rich so never mind. "Let's move on to something more productive now, like getting __ settled in a room. The sooner she starts the healing process, the sooner she can be good as new again."

"Thank you Dr. Kim," Jungkook says, slowly standing up to stroll you and your wheelchair out of the room. You didn't like it but the nurses insisted you be in one to keep pressure off your muscles.

"Yeah yeah." Dr. Kim waves him off. "Just remember what I said, no funny business. Especially here at the hospital. You don't know how many times I've heard the nurses catching their patients on top of one another at 2 am in the morning. That better not be you two, whoever you are to each other."

"Yes, doctor." You both reply, thankful of the fact that neither of you are in any position to be looking at each other.

"Is there any way I can be here for less than two weeks?" Jungkook watches as you plead with the nurse. It worries him that you're still anxious to avoid medical attention.

"I'm afraid not," the nurse says simply. "If you need anything, press the call button and I'll be in as soon as I can."

Once the nurse leaves, Jungkook pulls up a chair next to your bed. "Stupid question but how are you feeling?"

"I'm in an ankle brace, my rib burns, and my head is still dizzy. I'm trapped in the hospital for two weeks and all because a bunch of nineteen-year-old boys couldn't wait to hit up some frat party," you groan, not bearing in mind your tongue. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this Dr. Jeon."

"You didn't drag me into anything __. I'm glad I was there when this happened and I'm even more glad that you're here, getting help." Jungkook clears his throat before continuing. "Even if it isn't ideal for you."

You ignore the subtle pry for information. "Please, Dr. Jeon. You don't have to stay any longer. It's the weekend and I'm sure you have plans."

Jungkook gives a faint smile. "So, you're saying this is none of my business?"

"No, not—not at all. I mean if you want to stay then I guess you can but I don't want you to feel obligated or anything."

"I want to be here," Jungkook says simply. "But you know that's not what I meant. I'd like to know why it bothers you when anyone tries to help you...if I may."

"Just habit," you mumble quickly, averting eye-contact. It's not your professor's job to bear the weight of your problems.

Jungkook nods in reply, pretending you gave a satisfactory explanation. He wishes you'd tell him but if you didn't want to share more then that was your choice —he wasn't going to force you. "I understand." He grabs his phone from his pocket and rests his elbows on his knees. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" You look back at him, his question going right over your head.

"I asked if you're hungry. It's about dinner time so I can get you something if you want. I also have a bunch of milk in my trunk that needs to get to a fridge. But I can place the order now and pick it up in my way back here."

"Milk in your trunk?" Is the only words you repeat, dumbfounded. "Like chocolate milk or...?"

"Nah, Whole Milk." Jungkook grins at your scrunched up face. You try to hide it but not very well. "Don't look so disgusted. Milk is good for you."

"Yeah when you're ten years old."

"On the contrary!" You flinch when his voice rises, along with his eyebrows. "Milk has a lot of health benefits as adults. It has thirteen essential nutrients and helps maintain muscle and bone strength. I drink at least two full glasses a day, if not more."

"I'm sorry but that's nasty." You shudder at the thought of drinking milk in your twenties let alone your thirties. "You really enjoy it? The taste?"

"Yup, always have since a baby! Loved it so much that my mother-" You raise an eyebrow to which he abruptly switches topics. "Anyway, do you want me to pick you up something or no?"

You giggle, a little uncomfortable with whatever he was about to disclose to you.

"That's okay, no thanks."

"You sure? Otherwise I'm gonna be eating in front of you." Jungkook knows how this sounds — he's trying to force you to eat. But the truth is, he just doesn't want to eat by himself tonight. He also doesn't want to leave you alone this early, especially when you obviously detest being here, for whatever reason.

"I'm sure," you say. "But...if you want to come back you can. Not like I have anything to do anyway."

"Good then." Pleased, Jungkook opens up his phone contacts. "Give me you're number in case you change your mind while I'm out."

Over the next couple of weeks, Jungkook continues to stay by your side. He leaves to teach his classes of course and to go home late at night, but he stops by every day—hours at a time.

You keep insisting that he not come so much but he always makes the same excuses. "I just brought food" or "You're on my way home from the university". Sometimes he brings in class notes too.

Due to your current predicament, you're missing a lot of content so Jungkook thinks it best to go over key principles with you and takeaways from his lectures. He says it's his duty as a professor–never minding the fact that many of his other students are in a predicament of their own yet he’s not bothering to do jack for them.

"Look Dr. Jeon, I appreciate what you're doing but you really don't have to. I'll be perfectly alright to catch myself up from the textbook and study guides. You don't have to keep stopping by." You try again but Jungkook keeps his wall just as strong as yours.

"I know I don't have to __. I know that I could leave right now, take all these lecture notes home with me, and not feel guilty about a thing. But I told you I was going to be here and I'm going to keep to that no matter how many times you urge me to leave. I also want you to call me Jungkook outside class but have you allowed for any of those to happen?" Jungkook tosses the folder of notes in his sachel, a loud thump following. "A simple thank you would suffice."

"I am grateful, I really am. But I never asked to be given so much of your time. I feel bad because maybe you're just one of those overly nice people who feel it's their duty to stick around or what not when someone's in trouble. I don't need to be pitied over! Also, you said I could keep calling you the usual, so Dr. Jeon it will remain!" Why you're raising your voice, you don't know but it's happening either way.

"Yeah I did," Jungkook quips, matching your tone. "But after the last, nearly two weeks I think we ought to be on a first-name basis! And I'm in no way pitying you okay? I'm here because I care dammit! I don't want you to be alone and I don't want you to be behind in getting your Masters. So I' try to be be here every day for at least fifteen minutes if not more!"

You don't fully process what he says so you reply to what you remember most. "Why? Why can't I call you Dr. Jeon? It's been that way from the start, twice every week. So why do I need to call you Jungkook all a sudden?!"

"Because it makes me feel younger, you insulted my milk after I first took you to the hospital, we've been eating dinner almost every night since your injury, you told me about your childhood cat named Mr. Muttonbottom, and you just called me by my first name so there are no take backs! Now, if you're done making a fit, do you want bibimbap or jajangmyeon for dinner tonight?!"

What the actual hell? You cease your arguing at once, hearing your professor, or excuse you, Jungkook, all fluffed up. Obviously, you're not the only one high-strung over being stuck in the same routine day in, day out.

"Jajangmyeon...please," you mutter.

"Thank fuck," he swears. Yeah that's new too.

"Sorry for getting mad earlier." You mumble the words as soon as Jungkook returns with the food. "It just feels odd that you've been here all the time...you're my professor."

Jungkook mauls over your choice of words, stiffening ever so slightly. "Well, I'd like to think we're sorta friends now but alright. Does this actually bother you __? I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, you know that." He places the bag of take-out on the small desk near your bed.

"No, it's doesn't bother me." you just don't know how to react or what to say besides a measly thank you. More so, you don't want to make someone feel responsible for you...you should take care of your own shit without bringing others with you. It's not the best mindset, you're aware, but its the one you have.

"Okay good because to be completely transparent, I'm sorta here for me too. I live my myself, eat by myself, talk to myself....I do most things alone so it's nice having someone else to be around." He's not sure where to set his eyes, so he looks downward, fumbling with the napkins in front of him. "I'm making this awkward, sorry."

Feeling the strange need to offer comfort, you stretch a hand over Jungkook's arm. "I get it. It's nice having someone around too."

You and Jungkook hold each other's gaze for a few seconds more, letting the brief silence do the rest of the talking. Maybe you've been looking at this a little too one-sided.

"How are you feeling today? Any better?" Jungkook cracks open the bowl of Jajangmyeon, handing it to you with a pair of chopsticks.

You take the steamy food and gesture to your ankle which has swollen down a good amount. "Still more healing to be done but it's better."

Jungkook hums in approval. "That's comforting to hear. Dr. Kim going to discharge you soon?"

"Yeah, I think so. A few more days and he said I should be able to rest up at home."

"Really?" He chews on his bottom lip. "Well great, uhm , do you have stuff going on when you get back?"

You think a moment, trying to recollect if you made plans with Na-Rae. "Maybe some but not much. I don't have a ton of people around me right now either...down here I mean."

"Well, do you wanna go out to dinner then?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected. It's almost like he planned this or at least has been thinking about it for a bit. "We've been eating together for a while now and I think it might be a nice celebratory thing."

"Are you asking me on a date...Jungkook?" Because it defiantly sounds like he is, as indirect as it may be.

His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well...let's go with "hang out", like friends do."

A/N: so yeah, thats how they got together 👀😅 anyone surprised? Thinking about a drabble for thier first date now haha. Anyway, next chapter we get back to present day stuff where more drama goes down. Also, adding a chapter bc this flashback took the whole chapter lol. Lmk your thoughts 💞

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onskepa · 25 days

Note

Hi, could I get a fic where the Sully kids + Spider learn through Norm what a wedding is so they organize one for Jake and Neytiri? Thanks in advance.

Ask and you shall recieve! This is such a cuuuuuuuuuuute idea~!! Hope you and everyone likes it! Enjoy~!!

P.S: Cover was done by none other than @jakexneytiri check her page out! Thank you darling for giving me permission to use your art!

---------------------

A wedding? A wedding!!!

Tuk sighs dreamily as she twirls and admires a flower kiri picked for her. Admiring the pretty color as how the sunlight reflects it. It somehow reminds her of her parents' love story, how they met and how they mated. In na’vi standards, it was not ideal but to tuk, it was perfect. Forbidden love? How tragic and romantic!

Of course she has seen a few small handful of na’vi courting, and heard stories of her friends' parents' romantic paths. Yet she cannot help but wonder, do humans court the way na’vi do? Or is it different? Only one way to find out!

“Tuk, for the last time, I may be human, but that doesnt mean I know every human custom” spider patiently explains to a happy little tuk. Her tail sways in hopes she can gather as much information as possible. Even with spider’s lack of knowledge, she doesn't give up!

“What about uncle norm? He is from Earth, maybe he knows” tuk suggests.

Spider nods in wonder, slightly agreeing. But then he turns back to her, “why are you interested in human customs all of a sudden?” he asks. Tuk isn't one to search for anything human related, she is fine with what little she is exposed to.

With a happy smile, all too pleased to be asked that question.

“I know all about na’vi courting, but I wanna know about human courting! Mom and dad didn't do either, so I wanna know!”

Shrugging, spider seems to see her point of view.

“Alright, lets go ask uncle norm”

“I'm busy” Norman says without looking at the kids. They give him an unimpressed look.

“Reading star wars comics for the millionth time doesnt count uncle norm” lo’ak says deadpanned. Norman stayed silent for a few seconds before putting his comic away.

“What did spider or tuk eat this time?” he asks with a tired sigh. Both spider and tuk gave him a rather offended/surprised expression.

“WOW, you really take us for a couple of skxawngs?” spider asks, putting his hands on his hips.

“Sharing jake’s single braincell, yes”

“Whatever, we didn't eat anything mysterious, yet, but, tuk wanted to ask you something and now we all wanna know” spider defends while slightly pushing tuk forward.

Having norm’s full attention, tuk finally asks “How do humans court each other?”

norm ‘s shoulders deflated a bit, “of all people to ask, you had to choose the most single, and lonely human”

“Wedding? And the females wear white while the males wear black?” tuk asks as she sees some wedding photos lended by scientists who were married. Norm nods, “thats right. Of course not all weddings are like that, it is traditional but many choose other colors for their weddings” he adds.

Tuk looks at the various photos of brides, many in odd looking clothing. But all were so beautiful. Different long dresses, each unique to their own. Various flowers tuk has never seen before, and the grooms were also handsome. Wearing similar outfits but also in different styles. The more tuk learned about the concept of weddings, the more she began to form an idea.

“So, man and woman plan a wedding, woman finds a pretty dress to wear, walks down the tiny path to meet her mate, they kiss and marry right?” she reviews, norm nods again. Sensing something is up.

“Yes….”

“What are you thinking about tuktuk?” Kiri asks.

A mischievous little grin forms on tuk’s face. Her eyes sparkling with a devious glow. The expression reminds norm of the Grinch when he has a grand scheme.

Taking the day easy, jake and neytiri hold hands happily as they make their way to the village. They had a rare free day to themselves. No duties to attend to, no training, no meetings, no chasing their kids from death related troubles. None. They were free to do as they like.

And what they wanted to do for now was stroll in the village, perhaps collect a bit of fruit. Maybe later hunt for a delicious dinner neytiri has in mind. So many possibilities.

But….

“Woa, is it just me or are the people acting strange?” Jake asks, He and neytiri notice the odd behavior of the people. Many give them happy smiles, way too excited greetings, some even offer special gifts!

“Is there something we missed?” Jake wonders. Neytiri tries to remember but nothing seems to remind her.

As they walk further, there was a huddle of na’vi, all their eyes and ears facing the same direction. Jake and neytiri make their way through, and see someone giving them instructions….

“And look for white flowers! Anything will do, oh and those beads will do so nicely! Yes yes, and take the woven clothes over there! That path must be super pretty!”

It was tuk.

And she was giving directions to everyone like a tiny, cute boss.

“Tuk?” Neytiri calls out in confusion.

Her little one heard her, smiling, tuk makes her way to her parents with a happy squeal.

“Hey babygirl, what's going on?” Jake asks as he picks her up in his arms. Tuk just giggles and snuggles up to him.

“Planning your wedding! Duh!” she responds as if that was the most obvious thing.

“Wedding? What?” There were a lot of things going through his mind.

Neytiri was just as confused.

“What is a wedding?” she asks. But before tuk can happily answer, the rest of their children returns. With arms full of things.

“Ok tuk, took us forever but we got what you needed” lo’ak said with a tired sigh. He, neteyam, kiri and spider were holding flowers, beads, baskets full of white colored cloths, and black paint.

“Kids, what is going on?” Jake asks, more eager to know the answer. Because nothing is making any sense to him.

“Tuk wants to make a special wedding for you guys” kiri replies as she shows tuk her findings, who nods in approval.

“What is a wedding??” Neytiri asks a bit loudly.

Tuk clears her voice, “a wedding is a special mating ceremony for humans. They decorate everything so pretty in white! The female wears a special gown called a wedding dress, and she walks down a flower covered path to meet her mate at the end. Where someone who holds spiritual power blesses them, the mates speak their vows and promises and kiss! Uncle norm showed me!”

The little smiled so proudly of this knowledge being shared.

Jake inwardly groans. Damn norm.

“Tuk, sweetie, is that why are you doing this?” he asks another question. Tuk just rapidly nods.

“A wedding….” Neytiri repeats, still trying to wrap her head around the idea.

The sully family returned to their home in need of a family meeting.

“Why…?” she asks.

Tuk plays with her fingers, feeling more nervous by the second.

“Well…..you and daddy tell your love story all the time. How you guys met and stuff. But you never really did any courting like everyone else. Grandma says that courting is very important, to see if the relationship is possible. I thought a wedding would be nice for you two….cause you never courted…” she explained her reason.

Neteyam was sitting behind her, rubbing her back to sooth her.

There were many things to go over of what she said. Jake brings tuk over to his lap, releasing a deep sigh.

“Am I in trouble” Tuk asks worriedly. Both of her parents shake their heads.

“No baby girl, but you can't do things like this without telling us. Or even asking, how are you sure we wanted this?” Jake pointed out as gently as he could.

Neytiri turns her head towards her oldest four, “and all of you for not stopping her”.

“We also thought it was a good idea…” neteyam answers while scratching the back of his head.

“When uncle norm taught us how humans courted, tuk wasn't the only one to like the idea. And it is true what she says mom. You two never really had the chance to do it right. Why not now?” Kiri tries with calmness in her voice. Knowing her mother is very short tempered when it comes to anything human related.

Neytiri and jake look at each other, a special communication between them.

“You did take me straight to the tree after my trials were finished….” jake reasoned. Neytiri rolls her eyes but fondly remembers that night. Yes, she did, she was not going to let him slip away now could she?

And there really was no room for courting since the war started literally the next day.

Going over her options, Neytiri turns to tuk and jake.

“How does human courting work…?”

Whatever pace the people were working at, doubled. By either prayers, or some miracle of Eywa, neytiri accepted to wed in the human custom. Tuk wasted no time and needed back up from the help of uncle norm. Who became her second in command in all of the organization.

Her siblings become her little servants, repeating her orders to the people.

And someone had a big role to play.

“Come ma’ite, we must get you fitted” mo’at say with a bright smile on her face. Gently she tugs neytiri to her hut, kiri and other fellow na’vi woman takes her away.

“Fitted for what?” neytiri asks, feeling a bit excited for whatever is to come.

“For your wedding dress mom” kiri replies. Closing the flaps of the hut, the ladies began to work their magic.

While on the other side, jake was being taken to a different hut, being led by his three sons.

“Seriously?” jake says while raising an eyebrow.

“Tuk’s orders” lo’ak grins a bit smugly.

A few handful of Jake's friends entered the hut with him, with preparations of getting him ready.

“Oh, and dont forget to write your vows!” spider reminds as he snaps fingers in remembering what tuk told him.

“My vows?”

“This is going to take awhile”

“Oh yeah, its all coming together” tuk says, pride grows in her little heart as the wedding decorations and the set up is nearly completed.

Norm was beside her, whistling impressed. “Gotta hand it to you tuk, you do know how to design” he compliments. This makes little tuk humph with glee.

They were at the spirit tree, white veils, flowers, the Atokrinia’s floating around elegantly. Her image displayed ever so perfectly.

“Ok, it's all set tuk!” lo’ak says as he with kiri, spider and neteyam arrive.

“Good! So we are good to go!”

“Almost” kiri teases.

“We just need one more thing” neteyam smiles, but tuk was panicking a little.

“Did we forget something? It's the bells, isn't it? Dang it I should have-” she was interrupted mid sentence when she felt something land on her head.

Looking at what it was, it was a flower crown.

“A wedding isn't complete without a flower girl” spider says. Gasping in happiness and surprised, tuk shouts in great joy.

“Come on, we still got time!” the three siblings drag tuk away to have her be the prettiest flower girl pandora has ever seen!

The flutes began to play, releasing harmonic sounds as the notes echoed to the people’s ears. Ninat taking the lead of the melodious choir, her voice and the others balance with the instruments. In tune to perfection.

The Atokirina floating all around, giving the path a heavenly glow.

The people sat anxiously, all in rows as they respectfully cleared one long path.

A path the tuk carefully walks through as she delicately lays flower petals. A flower crown on her head, wearing the cutest light pink loin cloth and pearl like bead top. Tuk truly looked like a flower girl. Behind her was the bride. Her beautiful mother, The one where all eyes go to see.

Neytiri walks gracefully on the path her daughter leads. Wearing an all white outfit, her loincloth, her top, her head piece, and the veil she wears. All white. Her hair braided loosely behind, flowers decorated on her hair as well. Neytiri never felt more beautiful than she did at this moment. With a bouquet of flowers she holds tightly, her eyes search for her mate. The love of her life, Jake.

At the alter, at the root base of the spirit tree was Jake. In all of his might glower, wearing a black loin cloth as his warrior armor at the waist, his hair braided in the similar fashion he wore during the war. Feather and bead amended to the braids, and small black paint to enhance his handsomeness. Jake looked so good it made neytiri want to run towards his arms.

As they reached the altar, tuk took her place beside kiri who was wearing a style similar to tuk. Neteyam, spider and lo’ak beside their father as they admire their mother.

Jake offers his hand to which neytiri happily accepts. Removing the veil to reveal her beautiful face, jake could help but mutter “beautiful” in awe. Together they both turn to face mo’at who smiles with heavenly joy.

“Welcome everyone. Today, we gather in great celebration to bring these two wonderful people into union. Through trials and tribulations, these two souls have been challenged time and time again. But their love has pulled them through. Proving to us all that love truly conquers all. That being with your true one, anything can be accomplished”

mo’at gestures to Neytiri and Jake that it was time to say their vows.

But as they speak, tuk listened as best as she could. Hearing her parents story over and over never waivered with time. If anything it only sounded better each time. And hearing their vows right before her big eyes, it was adding a whole new perspective.

Yes, tuk is a sucker for romantic things. Even if her siblings tease her, tuk won't stop. And seeing this made her love romance even more.

“And by the great blessing of our great mother Eywa, I can now happily announce, Jake and neytiri as husband and wife! You may now-”

Neytiri didnt let her mother finish as she dragged Jake down to kiss him like her life depended on it. Jake happily reciprocates.

The na’vi cheered in celebration. Applause, screeches, everything was heard.

Tuk sighs dreamily as she sees her parents kiss.

“I can't wait to get married”

Kiri: “never”

Spider: "nope"

Lo’ak: “not gonna happen”

Neteyam: “over my dead body”

Okie so this kinda became a tuk main story but I like it how it turned out. What do you guys think? Until next time! See ya!

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mrsshabana · 9 days

Note

honestly i need a story time about the cult? also the link to that podcast, im intrigued now lol

𝐌𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭

Ok children gather around. It's story time 🤓

Note: Now I won't provide a link because I talk about a lot of personal stuff including my name and location, and I don't want so many people having access to that. But I don't mind telling my story here.

Content warning: Mentions of religious trauma and eating disorders

Ok, so let me set the scene. I was 18 and moved out of my parents' house. I lived in a ghetto apartment near my university where I was studying art.

Now when I moved out my parents stopped talking to me. So I really felt alone, I had no family, no friends, and I was in a new place so I was very desperate to have a connection with someone. So really I was the perfect victim for a cult because I was vulnerable.

One day I was walking out of the mathematics building when a student stopped me and asked me if I would like to read the bible with her. She was a Korean international student and she was really nice so I was like sure why not. Now at this point, I wasn't super religious but I did consider myself a Christian. But I never knew the bible very well and my family was the kind of family that only went to church on easter and Christmas.

So anyway, I read the bible with her and she explained it to me. The way she explained the passage was insinuating that there was a female version of god. That was something I had never heard of before but it was interesting to me so I decided to come with her to her bible study.

Long story short it ended up being this organization called "The World Mission Society Church of God." I went to their church and spent hours with them every Wednesday and Saturday because they made me feel accepted. They welcomed me and became like my family which I didn't have at the time.

Something I really loved about them was that their church was so diverse. There were so many different kinds of people there, I really felt welcome. Because growing up churches seemed so segregated. I'm biracial, my mom is white and my dad is black so growing up we either went to the white church or the black church. And at both I felt like people would stare at me and my family and that I wasn't welcome there.

So it felt really nice to have such a diverse church where I felt truly welcomed. Anyway, I ended up making a lot of friends there and I stayed with them for about 6 months. Then I figured out they were actually a cult. It's a long story but I won't go into it because this isn't even the main part yet.

After leaving the World Mission Society I felt really lonely again because I lost the only friends and sense of belonging I had. But I had to just keep going.

Maybe about 3 months later this random Korean guy approached me on campus and he asked me if I'd like to participate in a survey thing about the bible. I was skeptical at first because my previous church had told me that every Korean person was a part of their church. (Which obviously is NOT true). But my mind was thinking, "Oh no, what if they are trying to get back to me."

But I decided that it's not right to assume that this man is a part of that cult just because he's Korean. So I agreed to participate in this survey and I gave him my phone number.

Basically, a professor was writing a book where she'd answer people's most common questions about the bible. And she was surveying students to collect questions for the book. It sounded pretty cool to me so I was very interested.

I met up with the professor at a Starbucks on campus and I answered her questions about things I've always wondered about the bible. We'll call this lady Anya.

During our meeting, I expressed to Anya how I felt discarded by god because of my previous cult experience. I felt like I wasn't worthy of his love and I was very ashamed of what I did. Because we would literally pray to a human man who claimed to be god. After leaving I knew that wasn't true, and I figured god no longer loved me for what I did.

Anya was so encouraging and kind. She told me that is it 100% untrue, and that god does love me. That he put me through that experience for a reason and it only made me stronger.

Then she offered to do some bible study lessons with me so I could learn things the right way and start to feel a little bit better about my situation. And of course, I agreed. I was desperate to redeem myself and make friends again.

So I started going to this bible study once a week. Which turned to twice a week. Which turned into me going to some woman's house to have lessons. We'll call this woman Cara.

Cara was from Korea and so was her husband, they were extremely nice and welcomed me into their home. They would feed me ramen and cool snacks, and I honestly felt like a part of their family. There were lots of people in this bible study too and I made a ton of friends.

So fast forward, I had been studying the bible with them for about a year now. And nothing crazy, I was learning about the parables of the bible and the meanings of all those things in the bible that make no sense. It was very informative and interesting but nothing outlandish.

They sit us down for this big "reveal" about who the 2nd coming of Jesus is. Now they hyped it up so much and they told us that we can't judge this person no matter what. This whole time I thought it was going to be someone crazy like Kanye West or something. But no, it was an old Korean man.

He seemed unassuming enough? I had never heard of him so I didn't know why they made such a big deal out of it.

Now at this point, you are probably thinking, "Why the hell would you fall for this again?" Listen, trust me I was frustrated with myself when I left but you have to understand these people love-bombed me when I had no one. They became my family when I had none. They lied to me for an entire year so I'd trust them and get close to them before they revealed who they really were.

And they were a church called Shincheonji.

And I had no problem accepting this because these people had been my family and my best friends for an entire year. They'd feed me, watch movies with me, do anything to help me out. So I trusted them wholeheartedly. But really I was just being brainwashed.

So after I found out that they were Shincheonji they put me in their group for advanced students. And I'd begin studying multiple times a week at Cara's house and Anya was always there too. I would join the twice-weekly sermons via zoom as well. Where one of the Korean tribe leaders would give a sermon about something. I was in the Mathias tribe by the way, though that doesn't really matter.

I would do so so much with them, we even all went on a road trip to Houston where the other branch was. They even got me a birthday cake and surprised me for my birthday too. It was honestly great, and I loved them a lot.

We were basically encouraged to recruit as many people as we can because if we don't they will go to hell. They put so much pressure on us for this. They'd say things like, "Don't you want to save them?" And I am a very empathetic person so I felt like omg I want to save everyone! But on the other hand, ever since I joined Shincheonji my anxiety and depression went through the roof. The pressure to save the entire world is a lot for a 21-year-old girl. So I never recruited anyone myself because I didn't want them to have to struggle with the same mental health issues I did when I joined.

I also had some physical health issues arise as well. Their teachings would always preach how "The word of god is all the food we need." How spiritual food was more important than physical food. And that really stuck with me, especially when I got food poisoning and I couldn't eat solid food for two weeks. Something about not eating made me feel good. Like I didn't even need food because the word of god was enough, so why not just not eat at all? Not eating felt like the only thing I could control, so I clung to it. And I became anorexic. Being with Shinchenji was the only time I was ever considered underweight.

Anyway, I have so many crazy stories to tell about my time with them but I'll save those for another day.

I had been with them for about two and a half years before I started to question things.

We got a new teacher from Korea to replace Cara because she was going to have a baby. And this new teacher was a lot different and a lot less loving and nurturing than Cara had been.

She had said some things that I didn't agree with, and it started putting some doubt in my mind.

Ok so, on a side note I used to work at the library at my school doing data entry in the basement. And I would listen to podcasts a lot throughout the day as I did my work.

One day I found an interesting podcast about cults, where the host would bring cult victims onto the show and they'd tell their story. Well I was listening to an episode about the Moonies and I thought to myself, "Huh, they sound very similar to Shincheonji in some ways..."

But I knew I could not think such thoughts and that if I did any research then the devil would poison me through the internet. And I needed to strengthen my spirit for even thinking of such a thing.

So I went to reddit, and I found a subreddit called r/Shincheonji. I was like, "Oh yes! Now I can talk to other Shincheonji members and we can strengthen each other's faith!"

But it wasn't a subreddit for believers. It was a subreddit for ex-members and people who were against Shincheonji.

And at this point, I had already seen enough to plant that seed of doubt in me. I read more and more even though Shincheonji warned me I'd be poisoned if I ever researched them. But I couldn't stop myself.

I went through so much inner turmoil, you guys have no idea. My reality was crumbling so hard and I felt like my world was ending. It's hard to explain, but I was so indoctrinated and brainwashed by this point. This really ruined me.

I had to mourn the loss of all of the family and friends I gained these past years. I would cry almost every night because I missed them, and it was so hard to accept that they never truly loved me at all. To be honest, I still think about some of them to this day and I hope they got out and found peace in their lives.

No one in my life had known I was a part of Shincheonji. My closest friends nor my family, who had slowly started talking to me again. But I had to tell someone so I told my childhood best friend, we'll call him Blaine.

I got in a Playstation party with Blaine and I just cried. I cried so so much, and he was so confused. But eventually, I told him everything. And he was really supportive and gave me no judgment at all.

My main issue was, how could I leave? I have quite literally been living a double life this entire time and not having that scared the shit out of me. But Blaine advised me to cut them off completely and just leave without saying anything. Because his concern was that if they got the chance to talk to me, they would most certainly be able to pull me back in. And I know them well enough to know this is true. So that's exactly what I did, I left and went cold turkey. I even went as far as changing my work schedule too.

And here's where things get creepy.

I hadn't spoken to them for about a week now, and I'm at work. I'm working as usual in the basement on the computers and low and behold, three girls walk in. Girls from my cult, girls that I was close to.

Now students aren't allowed to just waltz into this room so they had some big balls to do that. But the weird thing was, I had completely changed my schedule and I was working on a day I normally had off. They should have had no idea I was there.

But here they were, holding a large cup of boba from my favorite place. And in my favorite flavor too, winter milk cap with mango popping bubbles.

They came up to me and said, "Hey girl, we noticed you haven't been coming to worship lately. Is everything alright?"

I said, "Oh uh yeah everything's fine! I've just been super busy with work and a ton of projects for class..."

"Ok, well we got this for you," they handed me the boba, "We were hoping to talk to you. We can wait for you outside and talk to you when you get off."

I started panicking so I said, "My mom is actually picking me up as soon as I get off so I won't be able to, I'm sorry! Maybe another time though, I'll text you."

They were convinced by my response so they left. And boy did I RUN so fucking fast after I got off work. I even called Blaine so he could talk to me in case they came after me, but luckily they didn't and I got home ok.

He started yelling at me for drinking the boba saying, "YOU IDIOT! THEY PROBABLY POISONED IT!"

But hey, free boba is free boba.

Anyway, after that event I knew I had to text that girl and tell her I was deciding to leave Shinchenji because I didn't want them to show up at my job again or follow me around.

So I texted her, trying to be as nice as possible and explain to her that I just couldn't do it anymore. I told her how this affected my mental health and my physical health. How I developed an eating disorder from being in Shincheonji too.

Her response was really rude and condescending. She said my mental health issues and my eating disorder were my fault and the work of satan trying to blame them. She told me that once I leave I can never be accepted into heaven, that I'm damning myself to hell as well as all of my family members. I'll be honest, she made me feel incredibly guilty and selfish for leaving. Their teachings were still ingrained in me. But I knew that I could never return after everything, so I blocked her and never spoke to her again.

Oh yeah and that book the professor was writing in the beginning, that wasn't real and she wasn't a professor. It was just a ruse to lure students in.

I will admit I could never get their teachings out of my head. And to this day, even though I know they were wrong, a part of me believes I am going to hell for what I did and all of my family will suffer because of me. So now I can't even look at a bible, and I no longer consider myself religious.

And after this experience, I reached out to that cult podcast that helped me realize I was also in a cult, and I got an episode of my own where I got to tell my story.

So yeah haha that's my story!

Today only my close friends know, and I never told my parents. They still have no idea and honestly, I don't know if I will ever tell them.

I'm still really plagued by a lot of things they did, and my worldview has never been the same. My life has never been the same. But I've been cult free for about 2 years now so I'm just taking it one day at a time.

I'm sorry this was so long. But if you read the whole thing I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading my story. And if you are a college student, please be careful because cults like this are rampant on college campuses, especially in the U.S.

After leaving the cult, I needed something to obsess over, something to make me feel normal. And that was Gyutaro! And I gotta say, obsessing over him is much healthier than obsessing over the teachings of a cult.

Anyway, I want you all to know that this blog has been an escape for me and helped me to feel normal again after this experience. And I don't need a cult to make me feel loved anymore. Because I have all of you :)

#𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ʚ♡ɞ #𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 ʚ♡ɞ #my experiences

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undercoverpena · 8 months

Text

milk and cookies

marcus pike x f!reader

summary: milk and cookies go well together. just like you and marcus - as a halloween costume.

word count: 2.5k warnings: fluff, established relationship. marcus is in love with you, bcus of course he is, you're amazing. dedication: a huge thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for being there for my insane thoughts, for reading this, and also agreeing this outfit is so marcus coded

As soon as Marcus scans eyes over the paperwork on his desk, he knows his evening has gone up in flames. It torched, practically set alight right in front of him.

The warmth from it licks at his skin as he slowly begins to pull out his phone, closing his office door—needing privacy, a semblance of being alone with you.

He hates this. The disappointment that he brings. That he has to explain, again, that he needs to rearrange, change things—uproot a plan he’d been excited to put into place.

“Hey, I was just about to reply to you—”

It almost falls from his tongue, cutting you off—the simple, short apology. When he does it, he’s purposeful with how he laces it with affection. Wanting—needing—you to know that he means it, that he’d rather be with you than anywhere else.

Even if he loves what he does.

Even if what he loves also means letting you down, it practically comes with the job title.

He swallows it, as best as he can. Allows it to crawl back down his throat, lets it remain there—in the pit of his stomach, swirling with all the other things he hates that he has to tell you. Like I’ll be back in a few days, I wish I could lie in bed with you.

Because, even if the two of you have said those three magical words, he still braces for them to be retracted. For his job to the thing that yanks the two of you apart, rips them both down the middle.

“—I just got caught up, and oh, I managed to find that syrup you liked—the one you told me about—so I’ll pop that in my cupboard for the next time you stay here.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he realises (quickly) that it isn’t going to be today.

“I may have to rain check tonight, baby.”

He waits for the disappointment, a sharp tone—a sigh, all littered with frustration and sharpened by annoyance. But as always, it doesn’t come.

Marcus did not hear anything close to that. If anything, words flow from your tongue, all calm, genuine—all full of understanding: It’s okay, I know you wouldn’t cancel if it weren’t important. Is it a new case?

“I’m really sorry.”

He’s sure he hears you smile.

Sighing, he runs his hand over his face, finger sliding down the bridge of his nose as he slumps himself into his desk chair. Not sure how he can articulate how much he had wanted to see you, had craved nothing more—the thought had been getting him through the day’s meetings and bullshit casework.

The thing—all key-shaped, wrapped in little pumpkins—has been burning a hole in his wallet for the past two weeks while he waited for a moment such as tonight.

Because, fuck you’re so nice. So kind. So understanding. To the point, a part of him worries. Just a little thrum. It there, being plucked like a string, in the moments where he can feel himself falling—all set to slide his foot over the ledge and tumble—what if he chose the wrong time to ask, and broke it—what the two of you have. What he thought he’d found with others, but now he realises had just not been you.

“Plus, I mean, you’d be really upset if someone stole your art,” you add, voice closer to the phone, likely halting whatever it is you were doing to talk to him.

A thought that pulls at the corner of his smile, a thing you do more and more as the weeks turn into months.

Shifting in his chair, he faces himself at the window—the car lights twinkling as they make their way wherever they fancy.

Smirking, he drops his hand to his lap. “There’d be another team involved if someone stole my art.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, still, you’d be needed, wouldn’t you?”

His lips twist further, teeth showing—a smile so large it almost fucking hurt. Because, shit, you’re adorable, funny, beautiful—

“There’d be another team because you’re my art. I don’t really deal with missing people, baby.”

“Oh.” It’s different than the one before—to the point he swears he can feel the heat from your cheeks through the phone. “Well, I—I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t… you don’t have to say anything. Just tell me when I can next see you—give me something to look forward to.”

He hears the phone move, likely from one ear to the other.

“It’ll be Friday—at the party.”

“Friday it is then. Can I still call you later?”

He hopes you’re mirroring his smile from where you’re standing. Marcus hopes he’s not alone in this feeling, the one which has come from nowhere, and makes him worry—more than he has before—because he’s not sure he has it in him to fall, crash and burn all over again.

“I’ll look forward to it, Pike. Especially seeing you in your outfit. Now, go and do good. In the meantime, I’ll count down till we’re reunited in the kitchen, which is everyone’s midnight fantasy. If you can make it, that is.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Don’t worry, if you can’t. Your job is important,” you say. “I’ll… find someone else to dunk myself into.”

Your laugh fills his ear, and he smirks in his chair as he sees the time. “Respectfully, baby. No.”

“Go be a hero, and call me when you land.”

“𝙳𝚘 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢?” 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠. “𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖?” “𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙿𝚒𝚔𝚎.” 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. “𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸’𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚍.” “𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢.” “𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝. 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸’𝚖 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.” 𝙻𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚙, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚊𝚠. “𝙾𝚑, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸’𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?” “𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎,” 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚕𝚢. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚎, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍.

It had begun as a joke.

You mindlessly scrolling for costume ideas, nestled between his side and the sofa, showing him ones to gauge his reaction. And then you had landed on it.

A grin so big, it could rival the sun with how bright it was—a little kick of your feet that made his chest fill with warmth, happiness and unfiltered joy.

Marcus Pike, will you do me the honour of being the cracker to my cheese?

His finger, though, had scrolled, moved to the next pairing down, grinning—thinking of all the times you’ve found him getting crumbs over the counter.

Rather be the milk to your cookies, baby.

He hadn’t regretted it. Not even when his half arrived, when he had to slide it on in his car—almost getting stuck on the exit of his vehicle as he straightened up outside the address of your friend's home.

Because all he wanted to do was reunite with you.

The days had dragged, and the hours had slumped slowly by. Even the nightly phone calls and occasional texts did nothing to speed it up.

If anything, it just made the question—the one that’s been swirling in worrisome-bile in his chest—more important to ask. Even if the last few times he’d asked a bold question with someone he thought was the one had gone wrong, crumbled away, withered until nothing but weeds were left. h

But then, Marcus supposes, none of those people were you.

As he’d been previously told, he hadn’t needed to knock—the door was unlocked. Immediately greeted by music, by flashes of orange and purple lights as he pushed the door back into the frame behind him. A smile already desperate to cut into his face, the week fading from his shoulders, from his muscles and bones, quickly being replaced by giddiness—a usual symptom of knowing he was going to see you.

Where he’d find you, he wasn’t sure.

A part of him wondered if you really were cliché, and he’d find you in the kitchen, or if you’d be with friends—in the thick of the hustle and bustle, even if you’d told him you didn’t know half the people attending.

People always seemed to like you.

Your kindness shining, practically illuminating—glowing. It’s why he hadn’t really tried to fight falling for you, not at first and not after the first time he sat knee to knee with you at a restaurant table. Because, you were charm, brilliance and captivation, all wrapped up in a person with a stunning smile and a heart of gold.

His thought is cemented when he walks through the open door to his left, and his eyes land on you. You, who is standing nursing a red cup, eyes trained on the window—likely looking for him. Not sure which way he’d have walked up to the house, not realising he’d parked the entire other way—having overshot the house when he’d driven down it.

He’s grateful. Selfishly steals the seconds to just admire you, take you in. Because even if he’s seen you dressed to the nines, bare in his sheets and standing in one of his tees at his kitchen counter, the fact he gets to admire you standing in a costume that matches his, makes his heart skip.

Even more so when your eyes slide across the room, landing on him.

Fuck. He’s sure his heart stops, then.

It’s why he’s grateful time slows. Allows him the chance to restart it as he gets to bear witness to the realisation he’s here, flickers over your face. It absolves the worries and doubts which had been etched into your brows; it vanishes away any nibbling of your bottom lip, that he’s sure you’ve been doing. Instead, it replaces each part of your tinged frown with relief and gratitude.

He should hate it, but it feels like a movie. Not at all factual or sensible, but rather unexplainable and life-altering.

Something he’ll replay when you’re asleep against him, unsure how it is he got to find you in the sea of everything he’d already been lucky to experience.

“You made it,” you say, voice carrying just over the music—standing in front of him.

His lips somehow (between the edge of his milk carton and your inability to twist) manage to find yours, finding they taste a mix of salt and sweetness, spotting the mini-pretzels in your hand. “Of course. Couldn’t leave you here to fend without something to quench your thirst.”

“My hero.”

“You know it.”

Your body curls into him, trying to anyway. Eyes unable to tear themselves away, staring at him, as though he’s hung the stars for you. The two of you silent, admiring—lost entirely in the other until the song changes, snapping you back, reminding you that the two of you aren’t alone.

Even if he wishes you both were.

“C’mon, I need to introduce you to people.”

Before tonight, he’d met most—the ones who matter, you’d explained. But, there were others. Some hidden, disguised too well, behind makeup and SFX that he did wonder if he’d spot them so easily tomorrow when the evening was over.

What he hadn’t banked on, was that you were doing so, to try and carve a place for the two of you to be more secluded, more alone. Moving from room to room, stealing bits of food, cheers’ing your cup, until the two of you were on the back porch—mist blowing from your lips, your sigh heard, loud in the quiet compared to the party inside.

“You having fun, baby?”

Turning your head, you nod—sliding yourself closer to him. “Yeah.”

With minimal awkwardness, he manages to press a kiss on your forehead. Getting a glimpse of your perfume and shampoo, finding it unlocks something—an idea, a thought bubble. Having spent so long looking for perfection, he hadn’t known tonight had been blooming itself to be one.

“Just thinking,” you add.

Sliding his arm around you, he fans his finger out over your back, Humming, resting his head against the top of yours.

“Just that… maybe we can host one of these. You know, one day?”

He feels it hook into the edges of his mouth, a smile growing, sliding up into his cheeks. “Together?”

“Together.”

“Think we should enforce people to dress up as pairings.”

“Oh, for sure. I think we could do better thought—maybe be a piece of art and a paintbrush. Make everyone else be food or something—or their jobs. Otherwise, we’ll just get loads of cops and robbers.”

His laugh rumbles out, feeling you try to move closer next to him—the cookie edge and his carton edge making it difficult.

“Maybe we can do it next year.”

“The outfit? I mean, I think I can make a paintbrush outfit… would need to get on it soon—”

“The hosting,” he adds, cutting you off.

Smirking, you lift your head, tilting it up to see him as he lifts his head from yours, spotting your narrowed eyes. “Is this you asking me to live with you, Marcus Pike?”

Holding up a finger, he fights a laugh. Because if only you fucking knew. His hand slides, shifting under his costume, into his pocket—his wallet emerging, your eyes following his movement.

“So, I’ve been walking around for the past few weeks with this,” he says, undoing the pocket, pulling out a key—one wrapped in pumpkins and little ghouls. “Just... waiting.”

“Oh my…”

“So, baby, if you want to, I’d love you to move yourself and that syrup into my place. I’ll let you decorate my home—our home—from top to bottom and host the most cheesiest party ever.”

“Marcus...”

He licks his lips, turning the key in his finger and thumb. “I really want to keep a close eye on my art, baby.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, baby. More than anything…”

Misting up, he watches your eyes shimmer more under the flashing lights coming through the window, and the bright moon in the sky, before you’re nodding. Softly at first, then enthusiastically, little glitter tears sliding down your cheeks, accompanied by an I love you; I’d love to move in.

Your body tries to move, almost knocking over a plant pot as you try and throw your hands around him.

Clumsy, he thinks, steadying you, cupping your cheek and holding what he can of your side in your costume.

“Weeks, ay?”

Snorting, he swipes his thumb against your cheek. “Trying to find the perfect moment.”

“I think you achieved it.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you take the key from his fingers, turning it, before looking back up at him. “I’m so lucky to have you, Marcus.”

I’m lucky to have you, he says. Not with his words. But with his lips against yours, pressing your lower spine to the porch fence—because fuck he loves you.

an: ily all.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal characters x reader #pedrostories #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fanfiction

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f1oricide · 9 months

Text

Yan Michelangelo hc

OK so-

I literally had a thought abt this and it was so jarring and crazy I had to write abt it. Keep in mind that writing is NOT my strong suit so bare with me okay. Also for the record I don’t condone any of this stuff Irl okay, there’s a diff between fantasy and reality.

TW: dark, possessive themes, gore, blood, cannibalism, mentions of worship, nonconsensual touching (not sexual), kidnapping, delulu Mikey <3

When you guys first meet, after the initial freak out you might have, he gets attached quick

It’s love at first sight <3

Could you blame him tho? He’s socially outcasted from society ofc not-

Anything you want? You got it! He will do anything to get that thing you barely mentioned wanting, no matter what

He would definitely try budding in every time your with anybody but him

Skateboarding with Leo? He happens to walk in with a skateboard. Having a tea party with Raph? You guys look like your running out of tea, but don’t fear! Your new butler is here!

Point is, he’s fine with sharing your time because like all good things, it’s even better when shared! He just has to be there too…you don’t mind right?

Won’t mind if you get a partner…

Just don’t expect to hear from them if they have the AUDACITY to make you so much as frown-

He doesn’t need to be your center of attention 24/7, he’s a secure turtle after all. He just wants to be near you, to keep you happy and safe!

Even if you can’t tell he’s there-

He is a VERY Delusional Yandere, you can be doing the most devious, horrendous war crimes and he’ll still think your a saint, everyone else is in the wrong for being in your way

Anyone who talks bad abt you, well… you can’t waste perfectly tenderized meat can you!

Real talk for a sec, I see a lot of people hc Mikey to be a heavy worshipper but I don’t think he’d think your a GOD, going down on his knees for you, but I think he’d see you as a angel and treat you as such

How? Lots and LOTS of cuddles (even if you don’t want to), positive affirmations, and overall codling

Cutie pie, angel, sweet potato, expect lots of cheesy nicknames

Now onto the juicy stuff-

Cooking, in his opinion, is a form of ART! Something to express himself with while also sharing that experience with his loved ones

Putting so much blood sweat and tears into perfecting his craft, creating a delectable meal for all

So imagine his (not so) sudden shock when he starts fantasizing abt you…eating him…literally…

HEAR ME OUT OKAY PLEASE-

In that one meat sweats ep, he was SO DOWN TO BE EATEN, because he sees Rupert in a higher light, he’s his idol!

He put his own blood sweat and tears for you, your his everything! This is his declaration of love for you and you alone, the one dish he won’t give to anybody else

At first he felt an immense satisfaction when you chowed down on the dishes he made specially for you, the sight made his chest swell!

But soon that feeling faded, something inside him started wanting more, until it eventually became Mikey’s every waking thought, pounding against his ribs until it’s satisfied again

So he did what any rational person would do! Invite you down for a taste test! Hah you thought I would say kidnapping didn’t you?

…

Well your right, he may or may not have laced those pastries you were taste testing

“Think of it as a forever slumber party! I knew you’d be just as excited as me, can’t hold in those happy tear too huh? :’)”

He really believes you want to stay as much as he wants you to stay, doesn’t matter what you do, you’ll always be his saint, wanting to stay by his side <3

You have a specially made “room” hidden in his room, that you stay in

Has all the necessities and everything, thanks dee

He often comes by to chat, make arts and crafts, and cuddle you, he’s barely out of his room even his brothers start to worry

Can’t have his brothers believe your…”funny” jokes now huh? They’d ruin the fun!

Starts to ever so slowly try to get you to agree with his… idea

Slowly starts incorporating more meat into the meals he makes you, mentioning how turtle is a delicacy in some places- you get the idea

But in Mikey fashion, he doesn’t like to wait to get what he wants

He suddenly starts asking you strange questions from, “did you know that cute hamsters cannibalize each other? CRAZY right!?” To “have you ever wanted to know what turtle taste like..?”

Eventually his patience thins and nervously asks the big question, but you’d understand right? Ofc you would! He shouldn’t be so nervous around you!

Ofc after hearing his request you start to understandably freak out, will he want to take a bite out of you too? Is this it? You don’t want to die like this!

Don’t worry! he could never ruin perfection, your a work of art!

(He’ll be happy breaking your skin with his teeth and lapping up the blood tho)

Surprisingly, he won’t FORCE you to do it, but be prepared for his mighty persistence and requests

He’s pretty much trying to hype you up

If you cave he is OVER THE MOON

He is inside you.. LITERALLY (idk how else to phrase it don’t be weird pls-)

Constant praise and affection is what you earn while you contemplate what you had just done

If you don’t cave, he’ll start to get a bit aggressive with his hype, and starts slowly giving you less and less food you until you do it-

Before he kidnapped you he was a bit clingy, but AFTER? Attached to your hip 24/7 baby

5/10 experience, you will be scarred for life leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth. But other than that expect lots and lots of cuddles and delicious not human food!

Sorry if it’s a bit all over the place, pls lmk if I made a spelling/grammar mistake. Writing this was actually very fun, I might do more in the future until I draw again. Maybe I’ll do both!Okay thx for reading tho bye :>

-f1oricide <3

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #fanfic #yandere rottmnt #yandere #yandere mikey #yandere Michelangelo #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #x reader #yandere x reader #crazy shit

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augustinewrites · 1 year

Text

autumn tends to be dawn winery’s busiest season.

because the harvest season heralds weinlesefest, which brings people from all over to mondstadt to celebrate, well, wine. so, it goes without saying that dawn winery not only has their own booth set up, but also supplies bars all over the city, hosts more wine tours and tastings, and works hard to accommodate the rise in exports to all over teyvat.

and if dawn winery is busy, that means diluc is busy. he’s got less free time, frequently going over budgets with elzer, meeting with potential vendors, and overseeing the winery’s increased day to day activity.

but weinlesefest is special, and while most of the ragnvindr’s family traditions died with his father, this one was much too precious to let go. especially now that diluc had a family of his own.

your two children hold wicker baskets as they walk through the orchard, each clutching one of their father’s hands. they love this little tradition as much as he does, listening intently as he lectures them in the art of picking the finest grapes.

he teaches them the textures to feel for, the scents. it’s a little much for a three and four year old to understand, but they get the point when he gives them ideal grapes to munch on.

tonight, they’ll even get to crush what they’ve harvested themselves. though most of the winery’s products are crushed in a press, the age-old maceration method of grape-treading is part of the fun and messy ragnvindr tradition.

there’s a soft smile gracing his face as he follows them around the orchard, lifting your little daughter in his arms to help her reach the grapes at the top of the vine. it’s a sight that pulls the words right out of your mouth and instead resonates deep within your chest.

you’re content to watch from your spot on the picnic blanket, humming as you unpack the lunch adelinde had prepared.

“do you think we picked enough grapes for aunt jean?” you hear him ask, to which they both nod fervently.

“well, you definitely didn’t pick enough for uncle kaeya.”

your daughter’s little face lights up as said uncle strolls into the vineyard, eyeing the rows of unpicked grapes like a cat that got the canary. “uncle kaeya!”

diluc rolls his eyes as his kids run toward the cavalry captain, but the smile on his face is fond as his brother (who is, much to his chagrin, his children’s favourite at the moment) kneels down to wrap them up in his arms. your husband makes his way back to your side, groaning as he sits beside you on the blanket.

“of all the people,” he muses, shaking his head slightly, watching as kaeya leads your children in harvesting more than the required bunches of grapes, giggling together as they do so. “the grandmaster of the knights, the chief alchemist, literally anyone else. even that bard.”

“he’s the cavalry captain,” you remind him, leaning into his side. “and he’s decent enough at watching the kids.”

he replies with a noncommittal hum, wrapping an arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “we should have him babysit more often then. say…tomorrow night?”

“it has been a while since we’ve gone out,” you agree. a night out is just what the two of you need after how busy the both of you have been preparing for the festival.

“i know. i’ll make us a reservation and you…you can put on that black dress i like.”

you shake your head, face suddenly hot with embarrassment when you remember what’d happened the last time you’d worn the dress. “oh no. the black dress is retired, diluc.”

“since when?”

“since i had two children!”

“then i bet it’ll fit even better now because of—” he gestures vaguely at your chest.

you’re about to offer him a witty retort when you see kaeya appears before the both of you, your daughter clutching his hand and rubbing at her eyes. “looks like someone’s feeling the effect of missing her nap.”

you move to take her, but diluc beats you to it. “i’ve got her.”

of course, your little girl relaxes at the sight of her father, holding her arms out to him. diluc hoists her up, pressing his lips to her forehead and murmuring something only she can hear, her little face scrunching with laughter as he nudges her nose with his. “come on, let’s go get your brother so we can crush some grapes.”

“it’s like they get cuter everyday,” kaeya sighs, joining you in watching your little family in the vineyard. “you guys did good.”

“we ‘did good?’” you chuckle, sending him a strange look.

“yeah,” he shrugs. “it’s good to have proof that my straight-laced brother’s had sex more than once in his life.”

you roll your eyes, but are unable to hold back a smile. "what about you?"

“oh, i’ve had way more se—”

“i meant kids, kaeya.”

he hangs his head between his legs, shoulders trembling as he laughs. "ah, my lifestyle isn't exactly conducive to kids right now," he tells you.

then, after a moment, "someday, though. definitely someday."

you watch as diluc shifts his daughter into one arm, scooping your son up with the other. you’re graced with one of his rare, soft smiles when they both cuddle into him, clinging to his neck.

"hey, kaeya?" you ask. "do you feel like babysitting tomorrow?"

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #diluc fluff #genshin drabbles #diluc x you

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afreakingdork · 2 months

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 63

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

EDIT 4/30/24 DUE TO A MORAL DISAGREEMENT THIS CHAPTER ART HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY REMOVED

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: crutches, muscle weakness, talk of abuse, mental breakdown

“So that’s the menu.” Mikey rose up and dusted his hands.

You leaned against a counter getting some time upright and nodded over the messy handwritten note cards Mikey had brought over. Coated in loving use and old ingredients, Mikey had clearly been fine tuning these recipes for years. They felt to you like precious artifacts with their ancient evolving notes. Moving them around affectionately and wondering how many total of these cards there were, you tipped your head towards the turtle. “How are you going to bring all this over?”

“So, we got ingredients purchased and being delivered to an agreed upon location first thing tomorrow.” Mikey paused to give a raised hand to Donnie for his participation.

Donnie, who had been writing some code on his computer, scarcely looked over.

“I’ll take everything down, start placing my mise and then head over here for my regular shift around noon to cook it up.” Mikey fanned out the cards once before sliding them back into a fold. “If I did my math right then everything will be ready for dinner at 6:30pm sharp and our guests will arrive.”

You nodded, thinking over the process.

“I’ll have my assistant in spurts.” Mikey winked at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sworn to rest when I need to. I get it, but I’m not letting you do everything.”

“Everyone has different kitchen dynamics.” Mikey chirped happily. “I love seeing how they all mix and our cooking chemistry though, like 90% of the time, I default to get out of my way!”

You laughed along with him. “I get that.”

“Having someone you can deal with in your space in that kind of heated situation is a big deal.” Mikey wiggled his brow ridge around his pun.

You hummed affectionately and remembered one particular time with Donnie. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah, gotta be a marker of true love.” Mikey picked his cards and was slow to take on a forlorn look. “This is it…”

“Yeah…” You straightened a little yourself.

The family dinner marked the end of the Hamato watch. Though it hadn’t been officially discussed, you knew Mikey had passed on the information about Donnie meditating and Raph had obviously reported Donnie’s first time disengaging his powers. It had been a good sign and just about every person who’d entered the apartment since had seen some form of Donnie’s practice. The little purple particles that would percolate at a certain focused step were unmistakable. Whether Donnie was testing his emotions to manifest them or simply working on their creation, you had yet to know, but since he’d gone weeks without a single mishap, he was deemed safe enough to be left to his own devices.

Leo was just a portal away if anything went wrong.

You dampened more thinking about the blue brother. You guessed this was how it was now. You weren’t going to repair things with Leo and, after tomorrow, you never would have another chance to. You wouldn’t see him again and he would be an emergency contact at most. It stung. You knew it was probably for the best, but leaving whatever your relationship was with him in such disrepair deeply bothered you. You guessed you had others like this, people from your past that you were doomed to only have a negative memory of, but it ached regardless.

“Michelangelo.”

That was Donnie’s voice and you raised your head where your back was to him.

“Yup?”

Leo would be next and then Raph before Mikey returned for his final watch.

“I want to meet with him.”

You almost didn’t want Mikey to leave.

“…”

Maybe you could ask Raph to switch so you could sleep through most of Leo’s shift.

“Well?”

“Why?”

You blinked.

“Obvious.” You turned to find Donnie with narrowed eyes, but little heat as if he found the exchange tenuous.

“If it was, I wouldn’t have asked.” Mikey bit back with a similar lack of heat, but faint irritation.

You didn’t interject, but sent confusion toward your mate who didn’t look.

“I need to… speak with… him.” Donnie swallowed bile.

“About what? Why now?” Mikey folded his arms.

Now on one crutch, you moved from where you were leaning your weight on the counter and hooked it with learned ease to your body to go over to Donnie.

The movement caught his eye and he watched you with his closed off affection.

“If I could discuss the matter with any of you, I would have.” Donnie told you, though he spoke to Mikey.

You heard Mikey unfurl with a huff.

You tilted your head in question.

Donnie’s eyes had little response.

Mikey made an upset sound.

Donnie’s lip moved a centimeter which was the most smile you could get under these circumstances.

“He can come to dinner.”

Donnie’s head flew to Mikey in fury. “A joke!”

“Nope.” Mikey’s brow ridge bobbed, smug. “Not a question either. That’s the only way I’ll pass the message along.”

“This conversation is not for any of you!” Donnie’s lip curled back, but it was obviously out of tender fear as opposed to actual anger.

“I’ll head out when it's time.” Mikey’s shoulders bounced. “Give you space.”

“Not for…” Donnie trailed off and looked at you in a similarly anxious way.

You weren’t meant to listen either.

You frowned.

Donnie’s gaze shot away in a pained way.

“We’ll.” Mikey was quick to add. “Step out.”

You looked to Mikey.

He nodded to you for encouragement.

“You need to talk to Splinter that badly?” You asked quietly.

Donnie flinched at the name and his wounded gaze stayed glued to the floor.

Mikey bent his elbows to the counter and waited.

“Yes.” Donnie spoke as small as he could.

Your chest tightened.

You knew you’d been keeping things from Donnie, but to hear the inkling that he was doing the same felt like a new wound.

It wasn’t on purpose, you wanted to scream.

You were going to unload on him as soon as you were alone.

That meant he probably would too.

The realization sobering, you leaned heavily into your crutch.

One more day.

“Dinner. The whole dinner. You don’t get to kick dad out after just because you feel like it.” Mikey laid down his ground rules.

This time Donnie surfaced slowly and with actual anger. “You expect me to entertain that-” He bit his tongue to keep a derogatory word out of his mouth. “-in my own home?!”

“You’re doing that with us, aren’t you?” Mikey spoke without malice.

The younger turtle even seemed oddly stoic.

He almost looked like Donnie when slipped all of himself under that emotionless mask.

Donnie’s eyes only narrowed.

“It’s either that or you try Leo, which, good fucking luck. Then there’s Raph and we both know how that’s going to go.” Mikey’s head cricked with the slightest tip.

Donnie inhaled slowly.

“You asked me for a reason.” Mikey spoke knowingly.

Donnie juggled something mentally before looking back to Mikey. “I did.”

“My terms or nothing.” Mikey lifted up and out of the conversation.

He walked over to where Leo’s portal would appear.

You saw that, as soon as Mikey’s back was turned, Donnie let a whole litany of emotions pass over his face.

There was outright fury.

You could see how much he wanted to strangle the other turtle.

There was bargaining.

He tried to work out a thousand ways he could get out of this.

There was anxiety.

The chance to speak to Splinter was slipping through his fingers and you could see just how much your boyfriend needed to do this.

You touched Donnie’s arm lightly.

He jarred from his swirling mind and you saw the whirlpool settle at the sight of you.

Another tap was more of a nudge.

You had his back.

You could take the verbal heat off if need be.

You could be Splinter’s chaperone.

Donnie’s expression welled with gratitude before he looked back to where Mikey still had his carapace to you both.

“Done. Do ask-” Donnie’s voice was gravel.

“For him to be on his best behavior?” Mikey cut Donnie off with a turn of his head that just barely showed his face’s silhouette. “I’ll ask him. I’ll do what I can, but he’s my dad.”

Leo’s portal appeared and the blue light reflected off Mikey’s eyes for a malevolent gaze.

“Our dad. The three of us.” Mikey spoke venom. “Don’t you forget.” He stepped through the portal.

The rest of the time until Mikey’s return was done in a preparatory wait. Leo had appeared casual with a levity that said he was ready to get this last shift over with. You imagined that he might even enjoy the dinner since it was a final blemish for him to endure. Skirting away from him to keep the mood light, you had very little to do. You mostly stuck close to Donnie who was trapped with the weight of what was coming.

Your mate stood in various parts of your apartment with nothing to keep his hands busy and eventually you coaxed him out of sight where you lingered in his space. Sneaking behind a partition felt juvenile in your own home, but you signed to each other regardless.

‘Why now?’ You started.

‘Can’t explain like this.’

‘Later? Alone?’

‘Both of us.’

‘I’ve been planning to.’

‘Good. You’ve been avoiding Blue.’

‘Yeah. Long story.’

Donnie made the motion for ‘kill’ and raised his brow with delighted question.

You shook your head and placed both your hands over his.

He brought them up to his lips.

You mouthed, ‘I can’t wait to be alone with you.’

“Me too.” He murmured warmth and came down to press the side of his head to yours.

You lingered like that as long as you could.

You did your best, but the closer it got to Mikey’s and subsequently all the turtle’s final appearance in your home, Donnie’s stress was transferring to you. With each second hand tick of the clock, Donnie got more on edge. You meant to be strong for him. You wanted to show him that this was alright; that even though you didn’t know what big thing he wanted to discuss with Splinter was, you would be unflappable.

The only problem was, you were painfully in tune with your partner and him being upset was then permeating you through your bond.

You hated to see him uncomfortable and, though Raph recognized the dense air in the room, you could tell the older turtle was mislabeling it. All four men hadn’t been in the same room since the hospital discharge. You imagined Raph, rightfully, imagined the entire bale together bothered Donnie, especially in his own home. If there wasn’t some big talk added on top, you were sure that would have upset Donnie too, but you found it hard to believe that would have driven him to his current state.

You guessed Raph might have also thought Donnie was concerned to then be alone with his ninpo.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to the older turtle and now still wasn’t the best time because he was just as distracted as you in watching Donnie move about like a stubborn plant searching for a crack of sunlight. In slow rotations, Donnie swayed, barely perceptible and feeling out his space blindly. He couldn’t do an activity because he was too emotionally confined to the pot, but he was deprived of something vital which had him wriggling with all his remaining strength.

You could hardly breathe by the time Leo’s portal appeared.

Raph was up and prattling on about lending a hand just to have an excuse to leave.

In a file, you watched as Mikey and Raph carted a bunch of food, pots, pans, utensils, and other kitchen gadgets in until your home was overflowing. Donnie made space on his desk and helped arrange the spill before Raph turned with his hands on his hips.

“Alright. I got class and then me and Leo will come by right on time?”

“6:30.” Mikey swung a spoon to cement his point.

Raph threw his own finger up genially and spun on one leg to leave through the portal.

“Ah!” Mikey suddenly fussed and passed the spoon off to you. “Hold it! I have something else to grab! Forgot something! You know me!”

Donnie’s head shot up where he was clearly cataloging as everything had been accounted for thus far.

“Don’t spike the food!” Raph complained but pressed a hand up to the top half of the portal like he was holding a door.

“I’m not! In this house?!” Mikey shot you a wink out of Raph’s eye line before ducking through the blue light.

“Yeah, yeah.” Raph shook his head after Mikey. “See y’all.” He gave a parting nod and disappeared as well.

“There shouldn’t be-!” Donnie furiously searched for what was misplaced.

You were about to help when Mikey returned with two stumbling leaps and a bottle of soda in hand.

Donnie gave an irritated face.

Mikey shook his head. “This was just cause I saw it. I actually forgot…”

It brought Donnie’s brow up before there was a blur and the portal shut.

For a moment, you didn’t register a change.

Then Donnie inhaled sharply and went ramrod straight.

You looked to find Splinter standing where the portal was holding a baking dish wrapped in foil. With his eyes downcast and wearing a little cardigan, he looked the picture of trying to do his best.

Your heart squeezed and you were in motion with a clunk of your crutch. “Splinter.”

“Y/N!” He walked up with his dish and found it occupying his hands. “I was worried! The boys kept me updated. I’m glad to hear that you…” He breathed a bit unsteady. “I am sorry this happened to you.”

“Yeah…” You’d heard that more times then you could count. “It is what it is…”

“Still! Those police are an absolute joke! Useless! A waste! Morons!” Splinter huffed.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Big Mama has been on a rampage.” Splinter told you casually before heading towards Mikey.

“Huh!? What?!” The younger turtle lowered himself to take the dish from his dad. “She what now!?”

“She was disrespected!” Splinter spoke as if this should be obvious news. “She has been methodically tearing down and restructuring the entire city center in her fury! So very her!”

“She’s…” You shook slightly in a rotation.

You looked to Donnie and couldn’t tell whether he knew that or not.

“Doing it for you!” Splinter threw a gesturing hand to you as soon as he was freed from his dish. “Oh, this is my very special green bean casserole, by the way! Also for you!”

“For…?” You took a few steps. “Wait, Big Mama can’t be doing that for me.”

“You, you.” Splinter waved a hand and looked around the packaged kitchen. “This place is too small!”

Mikey tapped his dad’s head with a spatula. “Don’t complain.”

“Hmph!” Splinter rotated. “You were her guest. Her new hotel’s poster couple! I’m surprised she hasn’t killed off and replaced the entire police department. Morons!”

He’d repeated himself, but the words didn’t seem real. “It didn’t seem like she liked me.”

“She likes you plenty! She wouldn’t do that for anyone!” Splinter turned, remembering something. “Put that in the fridge, orange!”

“I’m gonna be doing fridge Jenga, dad.” Mikey rolled his eyes. “Y/N, wanna help?”

“Uh, yeah!” You moved to set your crutch on a nearby counter.

Splinter saw he was in the way and scrambled a few nervous steps out of the kitchen.

As you passed him, you saw him keep his head down as if he wasn’t allowed to look around the living room proper.

Concern stuck to your features as Mikey held the fridge open for you.

Stepping around it, he used the door as a barrier for a private conversation.

You moved a few items in the icebox and gave a skeptical look as it would hide nothing.

He frowned and gave up trying to translate to instead focus on the task at hand. “How about I pass you perishables? That good?”

“Yeah. Standing in one place is easy. I’m just wobbly if I move too much.” You settled as a wedge in the fridge door as Mikey moved to pass things.

“It didn’t take too long to prep. I mean I’ve got a good few hours here so I wasn’t sweating.” He passed a few things over.

You methodically organized them.

“You’ll have to return my dear Tupperware.”

You paused in show of holding an old butter container that had something chopped inside.

“A family heirloom.” Mikey told you haughtily.

“Clearly.” You joked back and slipped it in.

Mikey walked you through the upcoming steps as you stuffed the fridge then freezer. When you came up with a semi-cleaned work surface, you glimpsed Splinter sitting on the couch near the closest arm and Donnie standing at a side angle near his desk. You imagined it would take some time for them to be able to approach each other and dove into the normalcy with Mikey. He ended up being a better teacher at cooking than meditation and walked you slowly through what you could best help with. In contrast, his own tasks disappeared in a flurry where he chatted casually as he moved around a full stove’s worth of burners and an active oven. You weren’t sure how he kept track of all the different cook times, but he seemed to know just when to move or extract something.

It had been at least an hour and you were casually washing some utensils for their third or fourth use when you heard Splinter’s voice. “You’ve made… quite the home.”

You didn’t hear Donnie respond and instead turned to Mikey who knowingly held up more dirty dishes.

With those soon cleaned, you moved on to oven Tetris for the many dishes that needed to be baked when you heard Donnie say something.

“You are still in contact with Big Mama.”

“Y/N!” Mikey blurred through your vision, moving faster than your eye to put the last pans in and slam the oven door shut for you. “You gotta look at this sunset!”

“Sun… set?” You blinked.

“Yeah!” Mikey slipped around you and opened the kitchen window.

“The sun doesn’t set for another-”

“It’s beautiful, you have to see!” As if it were a door, Mikey stepped right through the opening.

You stumbled a few steps after him in confusion and bit your lip on a noise when his arms shot out to grab you. In one perfect tipping lift, you were hoisted up and angled right through the window before you were set on the fire escape. “Wha-!?”

Mikey held a finger up to his lips and put great care in slowly closing the window.

When it was noiselessly shut he let out a big sigh.

“It’s time.” Mikey told you and then fell back to sit on a metal step.

“They’re talking?” You perked up.

“Yep. Not about to be a part of all that.” Mikey twirled a lazy finger and took a deep breath of city air. “Sky’s mostly blue.”

You leaned against the brick to look up. “Yeah…”

“It’s pretty.” Mikey murmured.

“Yeah.” You agreed.

For a long time you sat in the moment and let the bustle buzz as a dull hum until you made it over to Mikey. He moved aside to give you room and you both occupied the same step.

“Can you hear them?” You asked softly so as not to disrupt the moment.

“Nope.” Mikey tipped his head towards you. “Donnie’s got super glass or whatever he does.”

You snorted. “You’re going to slip up calling him that.”

“He can get me then.” Mikey threw up lazy fisticuffs.

“Thank you.”

“For saying I’ll fight him?” Mikey still had his arm’s akimbo and looked at you.

You bumped him with your shoulder, but left your body pressed to his. “For helping save me. For shortening my healing time. For teaching Donnie meditation. For making all this food. For getting Splinter...” You shook your head at the list. “For texting me about Donnie cooking.”

Mikey lightly chuffed and leaned a metered amount of his weight back. “I should thank you.”

“For what?” You looked at him.

You got to see up close how gooey his expression was when he turned to you. “For saving him.”

“I didn’t.” You shook your head. “He saved himself. I just got to watch.”

Mikey thought for a moment and returned. “Let me rephrase.”

“Go ahead.” You chuckled.

“Thank you for making him happy.”

Your heart jumped and you smiled brightly.

“Cute.” Mikey teased and leaned his carapace back on the steps.

You nudged him lightly where you couldn’t do the same and stared out at the darkening city until you felt a familiar pressure in your stomach. “Oh no…”

“What?” Mikey’s voice was sleepy.

“I have to pee.” You groaned and remembered how you’d been so on edge with Donnie many hours before Mikey had even arrived. That added to the current till, meant you hadn’t visited the bathroom since early that morning.

“Hold it!” Mikey sat up. “Do you know how rare this is!?”

“You think I don’t want to!? This was dropped on me the same time as you!”

“Yeah!” Mikey’s head shook with stress. “Stupid secret diner meetings with dad were not on my Donnie bingo card, but this marks the fourth time they’ve spoken ever! So I say again: hold it!”

“We have to go inside eventually!”

“Yeah, when the timers go off!”

Something beeped.

One single clear time.

“Mikey…”

Mikey paled.

“What was that!?”

“The… fifteen minute warning?” Mikey eeked out and went to grab his phone. “It’s 6:15…”

“We need to go inside!”

“We can wait!”

“Let’s just peek!”

“You peek!” Mikey scrambled up a step further from the window. “I’m not chancing nothing!”

You didn’t blame him in the slightest and inched forward slowly where your hips were weary. Nothing you couldn’t handle as you were a base level of sore as of late, you edged forward and carefully placed your fingers to the sill before hoisting yourself up to look inside. A clip of the counter blocked some of your vision, but you could see Donnie sitting with his back toward you and looking down the couch where you imagined Splinter was.

“What do you see?” Mikey was obviously impatient.

“I can only see Donnie, but there’s no signs of a fight. He’s just…” You stared hard at the back of your boyfriend’s head. “… sitting there.”

“That’s probably fine…?” Mikey seemed to be genuinely asking.

“Yeah…” Your crouch put further pressure on your bladder. “I’m opening the window.”

“Y/N!” Mikey clanged against the fire escape as he shied another step away.

“We have to go back in eventually! Everything will burn!” You pressed the jamb lightly before cracking it.

You felt the rush of air and the scent of food waft out, but little more.

Your heart beat fast in your chest and you moved to check with Mikey.

His eyes were a new kind of wide.

‘Bad?’ You mouthed as obviously as you could.

Mikey shook his head furiously.

Your abdomen pulsed.

You pushed the window further up.

Mikey caught your arm.

You wordlessly pulled from him.

His head shook so fast his hair was coming out of its tie.

You yanked to the side and both of you struggled in front of the window.

“Is it really possible to love someone who is evil?”

Both you and Mikey froze at the sound of Donnie’s voice

Then you were nearly beating each other to try to close to the window.

“I once told her I knew there was still good in her.” Splinter’s response came next.

You heard a dull sound.

Something indistinct and electronic.

Mikey’s eyes turned white and he disappeared from you.

Blinking into the empty fire escape, you swore you heard the faint sound of a timer in the distance.

That meant the food was done.

You had to go inside no matter what.

Stunned, you looked toward the window with your heart plummeting and pushed it all the way up so you could climb back inside.

“I was wrong!” Splinter’s voice cracked as your belly pressed against the sill, halfway through. “Still good!? What does that mean!? She never said anything, but she must have known. Why was I so hung up on the distinction? Good. Bad…” He heaved a heavy breath.

You nearly somersaulted over, but you channeled every ounce of your physical therapy and just barely saved yourself with a careful foot to the floor.

“Love does not know such things! I loved her in spite of everything. I loved her after she imprisoned me. I loved her because I loved her. Her alignment or however you would say was not what my heart chose. I chose the woman who understood me. Who sat by me. Who liked going out dancing as much as she appreciated a good movie night on the couch!”

The last of your muscle strength was spent on dropping as silently to the floor as you could.

“I wonder if it was… my fault we drifted apart and… that may be…? Oh, but these things happen... I did not condone her activities. I still don’t, but I’d be lying if I didn’t think I liked that she’s still feisty!”

Donnie gave what was almost a laugh.

It also sounded congested.

You slithered on your belly with only the intention of getting to the bathroom and not interrupting.

“Donatello. None of us chose the life we are born into. I’d say we get to choose after and to a point I did, but a certain destiny caught up with me. Right… Wrong… Who’s to say? I made the decisions I did.”

You were close to the edge of the counter.

“What I can tell you is that when the time comes, for whatever that may be, you get the choice in how you react. When I had my hand in stopping the Shredder or the Krang, I wish I could say I thought of humanity. I didn’t. I thought of my boys. I thought of…” Splinter cut himself off and his voice shook. “I did what I did out of love. I continue to do it for the same. If you are worried that is bad, then you are wrong. Love may be the only right choice any of us can make.”

Your head appeared out from the wood and you saw Splinter first.

He had slid down to the middle of the couch at some point and Donnie now took his old spot at the sofa’s arm.

With his back to you, Donnie was slightly hunched, but that wasn’t what you were looking at.

Down on Donnie’s knee, you saw Splinter’s spindly pink hand settled on top of Donnie’s.

Neither party moved and there were tears in the air.

You meant to run.

You meant to fly.

You were going to lock yourself in the bathroom.

You weren’t going to intrude on this scene.

Instead you rose at the same time a blue light flashed.

Your heart hit the floor.

Donnie and Splinter jolted apart and turned in that direction.

“Y/N!” Mikey hissed as quietly as he could behind you.

Your head tilted toward the sound, but you couldn’t peel your gaze away.

Leo slipped out of the portal with his eyes closed and a carton of cream in his hand. “Yello, dinner party people!”

Raph’s arm appeared next, but Leo froze in his way.

Donnie spun and was heading towards you with his head down.

Staring at where your boyfriend had just been on the couch, Leo was looking at the vision of his father with huge fat tears in his eyes.

“Dad…?” Leo whispered a silent spell.

As if your blood pressure hadn’t fallen enough, it broke through the floor.

Leo didn’t know Splinter was going to be here.

Mikey’s earlier action slapped you in the face.

“What-” Leo’s voice darkened and he moved toward you.

Donnie passed you and Mikey squeaked where he was clearly still in the window based on the way he struggled.

A blue light broke out behind you and you turned to watch Leo’s head appear there, cutting Donnie off. “-did you do!?”

Donnie’s head snapped upright and from this angle all you could see was Leo’s face.

It was broken glass and horrified awe.

Raph whispered something to Splinter.

He was making sure his dad was alright.

“You…” Donnie spoke against the will of his body.

Leo was stuck by only his own accord while Mikey was very literally wedged in the window.

Donnie’s got his sights on the youngest.

“Why was Leonardo not informed?” Ice crystals could have formed on Donnie’s words and you would have believed they were real.

“Th-th-that’s-! U-um!!” Mikey’s hands splat against the wall where he tugged as hard as he could before he popped out of the jamb.

He hit the ground in a flop and shot to his feet, curling around Leo’s portal.

“Th-this looks bad, but I-I told you! There was no way Leo or Raph would have agreed! I couldn’t tell them!” Mikey stopped just shy of passing his disembodied brother.

No one moved.

“They would have stopped me! Or dad!” Mikey pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. “You know that!”

Donnie inhaled a single time.

“I agreed!”

The scene had not defrosted, but you felt everyone’s attention shift to where Splinter had yelled out.

“When Michelangelo told me you wanted to talk, he shared his concerns about the others!” Splinter’s harsh voice didn’t have a single edge. “I agreed it would be best for me to slip in! They know I am stubborn! As long as I got here, they would not make me leave!”

Smoothly, his words slid and coiled around the group.

“Do they…” Donnie lifted his head and you knew he’d placed his villain persona on. “… control you?”

Splinter made an audible jarred sound.

“Elderly rat at the whims of his more powerful sons?” Donnie was careful in rotating so he stayed out of your view and hit a button to turn off the oven.

“Donatello…” Splinter begged.

“All you do is lie.” Donnie’s malice broke and it dripped to the floor with several hard plops. “Always! All of you!” In a spin, you finally glimpsed your mate and the tears that flung from the velocity of his rage. “You never stop! You compulsive animals!!! HOW?! HOW CAN ANYONE BELIEVE ANYTHING YOU SAY!? WHEN YOU TAKE NOTHING SERIOUSLY?! WHEN YOU NEVER HAVE!? HOW CAN ANY OF THIS BE REAL!? WAS ANY OF THIS-!?!”

“It was!” Splinter stepped up onto the arm of the couch with tears matting his fur. “Donatello, please! You have to understand! I take this matter more seriously than any other!”

“Oh.” The cadence of Donnie’s words bled. “This then? You take this seriously? Now? NOW?!” He bellowed and even you flinched. “OBVIOUSLY NOW IN YOUR OLD AGE! LATER! OF COURSE! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! YOU ALWAYS HAD IT IN YOU! YOU JUST HAD TO HAVE ME GROVEL! NOT BEFORE THOUGH! THIS IS THE MATTER OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE! NOT WHEN A CHILD GOES MISSING! NOT WHEN A LAB EXPLODES AND YOU SAW, YOU SAW, ONE OF FOUR NOT END UP IN YOUR CLUTCHES?! NOT THEN!? NOT TO EVEN LOOK ONCE!!! NOT WHEN A LITTLE BOY WAS LEFT AND TORTURED FOR YEARS!!!”

Donnie choked.

Splinter welled up.

You looked to the others.

Mikey had brought his hands up to cover his mouth and his tears flowed from grossly large eyes.

Leo still hung, half in, half out, of his portal across the apartment and his face was painted with the bitter weight of the knowledge.

Raph’s lips drew a warped line and his features winced, but he refused to look away.

None of them knew.

Like Leo hadn’t known about the library.

Only you knew Donnie’s past.

“Now…” Donnie threw up his tear stained cheeks and checked around the air. “NOT, NOW HUH!? NOT IN THE ONLY APPLICABLE MOMENT?! NOT A SINGLE GUN!? NOT EVEN A BULLET! WHAT A HANDY FUCKING SCAPEGOAT THAT ALLUDES ME!!! YET ANOTHER BLIGHT BROUGHT UPON BY THE HAMATO NAME!! WHY!? WHY NOW!? WHY DOES MY ACCURSED NINPO NOT MANIFEST NOW!?!”

“It’s because you’re not angry.”

Donnie turned to you with outright betrayal on his features.

You rose with the blow of it and felt your face crumple. “You’re not mad… You’re… You’re sad…”

You watched, up close, how every emotion fell off Donnie’s face.

Left only with featureless surprise, his pupils shook with the empty off-whites in his eye before he turned.

He was going to run.

He needed to leave.

You would field the others.

You only needed to stop four mutant men.

Simple enough on a broken body.

They were already looking at you.

You would give Donnie an opening.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!!” Raph’s voice cut through at a volume that caused the wall fixtures to shake.

It created a new spell, this one stopping time instead of freezing it.

“NO-!”Raph reached into the portal near him and yanked Leo out of the kitchen and to his side where he threw an enraged finger over top to keep his younger brother in place.

Leo’s eyes took up his entire face and his head shrank down into the top of his plastron in translation that whatever Raph was doing was new.

“MORE-!”Raph stormed into the kitchen where he skirted Donnie long enough to pick up Mikey.

The youngest was thrown clear across the apartment, toward the door, where he barely activated his flight, and staved off colliding with the surface with a burst of orange sparks.

Raph then looked out at his family across the apartment and pointedly put his shell to you and Donnie. “-LIES!!!”

Again, the apartment shook.

He stood there, a shock of muscles quivering with rage before he turned with watery eyes. “You’re right!” Raph told Donnie. “You’ve been right!”

One of Donnie’s hands started to lift.

“All this time!” Raph’s features fragmented and he had to scrub them back into place like a sliding puzzle. “Not how you did it! You fucked that up so bad, but about us! Of course you wouldn’t trust us! How could anyone trust us!?”

Donnie had clear reservations, but didn’t speak.

“We’ve said a thousand times before that we’ll change, we’ll tell the truth, that we’re finally going to quit lying, and not once has it been different! We’re not going to be different until we stop acting like it is! What happened!? Happened! What’s done!? Is done and I’m sick and tiredof pretending it’s anything else!” Raph shook with what was almost a laugh. “I’m out, Lee. As of right now? I quit.” Coming up, he looked the most serene you’d ever seen him. “I quit the team. Hell! As it is? I quit the family.”

You heard Leo scramble.

Raph looked right at Donnie. “I’m going to the roof and I’m going to explain our ninpo. I’m going to tell the damn smoggy sky for all I care. You come or you don’t. Raph is currently a solo act.”

Raph then walked straight over to the window and stared at it for only a second before he grabbed the casing.

Your body pulsed with fear, but Raph barely flexed and pulled the entire frame straight out of the wall and brick outside. “I’ll fix this later.”

Setting the window frame down with far too much care for the destruction he just wrought to your wall, Raph walked out onto the creaking fire escape and climbed up out of view.

Donnie only surveyed some rubble that had landed by his foot before he moved to follow.

You stared as your partner stepped onto the metal.

He paused for a moment, never looked back, and continued after the oldest.

You felt a brush and looked down to find Splinter at your feet.

The old man gave you a single even nod before he too followed out the hole.

Leo made a noise.

As soon as Splinter stepped outside a blaring red wall appeared to block the path.

You heard a knob click.

You spun just in time to see Mikey in your front doorway where he had a similarly empty expression.

Your lips parted to ask.

Mikey drew a tight line with his. “No more lies.”

You wanted to yell that you weren’t.

Of the entire lot of them, you’d lived the most honest.

That wasn’t quite true.

You only had excuses.

Guilt wringing you out, Mikey left and the door closed behind it.

That left you and Leo.

With Mikey manning the front door and Raph blocking what was once a window, you were now trapped with the only turtle who despised you.

You stood in the lingering heat of the oven.

Despite melting down, Donnie still took the time to save the food you and Mikey had worked so hard to prepare.

You loved your mate so much.

Had you hurt him?

Why had you told him that about his ninpo?

Should you have stood up for him more?

You held your hands close to the oven handle.

It seemed then, and still did, that you had said what you needed to.

You needed to be alone with him to deal with everything that had happened.

You’d already agreed to do exactly that.

It would help if you had a few of those categories sorted.

Donnie always did prefer you to have done your homework.

He’d done his both with Splinter and then would come with spades having had a conference with Raph.

That left you now needing to deal with your shit.

So you said what you needed to. “Guess we could start with the easiest stuff.”

Leo grunted lightly in what you imagined was him getting to his feet.

“How you’ve said you wanted me dead twice now.” You threaded your fingers through the oven handle, but only held it.

“Wrong.” You heard Leo try the front door.

Either Mikey or S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was keeping it closed.

You imagined the automaton was somewhere with popcorn.

“At the gala, one. You wouldn’t remember my name.” You squeezed metal. “And the last time we really spoke. You said I hoped I would be your final straw.”

“I didn’t say hope.”

“But you did say you wanted me dead.”

“This is purgatory.” Leo decided and a thunk sounded that you knew to be his head against the door.

“Welcome to hell.” You gave a sort of smile. “We’re doing this.”

“Raph can’t quit.” Leo spoke distant.

You crossed the apartment.

“We all agreed. No one was coerced. He’s not going to talk about our ninpo. We agreed.”

“It’s over, Leo.”

“I’m their leader.”

You stared.

There was no way to reach him.

He was going to encase himself in as many lies as he needed to protect his fragile heart.

You knew that all too well.

You had your own man doing the same.

You were careful in signaling you were going to touch him before you did.

Leo only gave you a sharp glance, but didn’t move. “Dad’s there. He’ll stop him. Dad knows the threat.”

You took Leo’s wrist and led him to turn.

He came with his head down, locked in on his delusion, and turned toward you in a show that he would not be moved.

“Mikey took a different route. He’s got me. Mikey is always my best back-up. He makes openings with his ninpo. He takes the heat. He’s fire incarnate.”

You released Leo and sized him up.

“Then I slip in. You never got to see us work coordinated. Raph’s too obvious as a bruiser. Mikey’s the real tank. I’m the speed and precision and Raph finishes them off.” His foggy gaze gave way to how happy the memories were.

Your body ached and you used the pain to watch him clearly.

“We head home to dad.” Leo was exactly where he described. “He wouldn’t ask what we did. We wouldn’t ask what he did. We existed in the moment. That’s how it was. ‘Orange, whip something up.’ ‘You got it, daddy-o!’ ‘What’s on the menu tonight?’ ‘Well, we’ve got quite the array of the latest day old delights! Locally sourced from the finest dumpsters.’ ‘I’ll take the chef’s special.’ ‘Coming right up!’ ‘Think we’ll be able to pronounce it this time?’ ‘Not a chance, Rapharoni. Not a chance…’”

You hugged straight into Leo’s center.

He made an audible, “Oof.”

Getting as much of his carapace in your hands as you could, you squeezed him with all your might.

Leo’s arms hung limp over yours.

“’It’s knock-knees.’ ‘What the!? Gnocchi! What’s wrong with you?’ ‘You say it like no-key!’ ‘Of course there’s no key! We live in a subway! Where would we keep a door?’ ‘Leo!’ ‘That’s worse than your bit yesterday with the pho.’ ‘I thought you’d pho-geddaboudit!’ ‘Not again!’ ‘Why do you always do that!?’”

Fat tears knocked on your head one at a time.

You hugged him tighter and his sentences devolved until he was humming the tune of the past.

What had you really learned about this man?

You had no idea.

Leo never said what he meant.

Where Donnie was precise, Leo was ambiguous.

Both calculated, Leo played mental chess thinking of his finishing move while Donnie remapped the board at each step.

While each had their advantages, it was Leo’s methodology that you couldn’t follow.

Retroactive action had once threatened your relationship with Donnie.

It destroyed your knowledge of Leo before you could even place what it was.

He was too sharp.

He knew exactly how to push other’s buttons.

He was a master manipulator.

He’d done exactly what he wanted and kept you at bay.

Not without taking critical damage himself, it just so happened that you had a knack for such a thing.

You’d only inflicted him with wounds because you hadn’t planned at all.

You had time now.

It was with yours, you found Leo, small and trapped in what had to be his teen years.

He clung to memories before the world came crashing down around them.

His family.

He never saw them differently.

That was why he spoke the way he did.

It shaped how he acted.

He created a mold then and there and pressed the rest of him through melted wax.

Only the die was imperfect.

He decided his final move as a child and never looked back.

His family was his entire worth and everything he did was for them.

Only he was so focused on preserving the them of that moment, that he hadn’t seen the field of play had changed.

They no longer needed him in the way he’d decided.

No matter how many times they tried to tell him, he kept stubbornly forcing himself through that old mold.

Each time he extruded a blue shape that was more and more malformed.

It showed every edge where the plates hadn’t been properly set.

Trying relentlessly to make it work, Leo had spent decades refusing to rework the machine.

He only needed to try again.

The wax was wrong.

He was wrong.

He could fix it.

He just needed to try.

He’d sat stubborn.

Long past when the materials ran out and he had begun to crush his skin between boiling metal.

Through each throttle and scar, he continued until he no longer knew when to stop.

When his family acted out of the distorted image he drew, it was an attack of his very being.

He was betrayed again and again and forced more of himself into the mold.

If only he could get it right.

It would be an injustice for you of all people to stop him.

Not you.

Not when he’d worked so hard.

He’d worked himself past flesh and to bone.

Then from the dust, he continued to toil.

He’d been right.

You both were.

You were happenstance over a sandwich.

You’d told him about choice, but his answer sheet was worn down.

How could he make any other, when he wasn’t on your plane?

He was a trapped time traveler and his portals only cut space.

He was also wrong.

Raph’s fed up speech ghosted your ears.

Things happened.

It was done.

You felt the shift.

By speaking those few words into existence and disrupting the flow, Raph had upset the status quo in the same way you had.

Then Splinter followed.

Before Mikey made his own path.

Which left two, one wholly present and the other here in body alone.

You anchored that side of him, having hugged him so long your arms screamed with a force very unlike all the stressors from your crutches.

Leo was sobbing, but he didn’t hold you.

He simply rained his sorrows down.

What could you do?

You couldn’t tell him.

He’d heard a thousand words.

They’d had family meeting after meeting.

They’d spent a lifetime and were still in the same rut.

What about Raph’s simple action had been so different?

What about yours scared Leo so deeply, to his core?

If it was what you said, then you should have reached him.

He’d said you’d dug it out of him.

Eyes damp against his shirt, you saw a mental flurry of Leo’s baring their souls.

It wasn’t you.

It had never been you.

It had been time.

Just like Donnie.

It was time.

“You did good.”

Leo babbled a few more syllables, before he stiffened in your hold.

“You did so good.” Tears threatened your vision so you closed your eyes and put all your strength into the hug. “You were right!”

“That-” You felt his hands ghost up to push you away.

“You were!” You forced your body flush with his and sent a watery grave into his eyes. “You were right to love! You were right to fight! You were right to worry! You were right to try! You were right to do everything you could to protect your family! Leo, you did an amazing job!”

A revelation did not pass over Leo’s features.

He stared down at you, spellbound.

He saw you.

The current you.

He saw now.

“They lived!” You told the parts of him, one foreign and aged mingling with the other who hadn’t properly looked in a mirror in years. “You did it. You got them all here! You protected them!”

“I…?” He believed you.

Your cheeks threatened to swallow your eyes. “Every one of them.”

“But they…”

“But nothing!” You stepped closer into him and he had to widen his stance to stay upright. “You can keep punishing yourself, but that doesn’t do them any good! They’re waiting for you! They don’t care what you did! They care what you do now! So, you didn’t save them the way you wanted? Does that really matter? The end result is the same!”

His own philosophy crashed the pieces of him together and he wobbled.

You squeezed until you thought your shoulders might pop out of their sockets. “And that’s where you are. You’re at the end of the road, Leo. You did it. You’re done. Your job is done.”

The first breath he took gave his new form life.

The second felt the years he’d lost.

The third sipped bittersweet in the many lives the old him had touched.

Then came happiness.

In a wave so large, his teeth lined up for a decade’s wide smile.

The time between flowed like a river down his face in droves.

“You can rest.” You buried your face into him, but saved your mouth. “Your loved ones are here and they’re waiting. They’ve been waiting all this time. They want to thank you. You did everything you could.”

Leo hugged you.

In one giant sweep, all that you had squeezed into him was returned until you were nearly bowled over.

You genuinely had no idea how either of you were still upright.

“He’s in good hands.” You added as soon as you got your oxygen back.

It was crushed right back out of you and together you both cried.

The downpour washed the slate clean.

You weren’t sure if you would etch it anew, but for now you were going to store it.

There was time.

So much so, especially for Leo, that you languished in it. It brought you both stumbling to the couch where neither of you could let go. It was only after being seated side by side did you feel sturdy, but Leo didn’t let go with an arm slung around your shoulders. He grew into a frustrating weight, but there was a certain comedy to it that had you both barbing each other with little spikes for a sense of normalcy. You weren’t sure if that would be your relationship moving forward, but for now it felt like you could traverse it on your own terms.

When Raph came down the fire escape in a series of clangs, Leo only arched out where he still had a hold on you and greeted his brother with a wry smile.

If Leo’s newly current presence was obvious to you, it was plain as day for Raph, who was moving forward. “Leo!”

“Hey, bro. Miss me? Bring that big beautiful mug over here for me to see!” Leo extracted his arm from you and whispered a parting sorrow in your ear. “Sorry, doll.”

For a moment you were on a rooftop until you were back in your apartment looking at Leo.

“What can I say?” He was all smarmy charm. “A fling’s a fling! No hard feelings?”

You had a thousand insults on your tongue, but Donnie’s arms wrapped around your middle and he extracted you with a bitter glower.

Leo didn’t pay him any mind and caught Raph by the cheeks to squeeze them. “Prickly, you forget to shave?”

“What can I say? It’s past five o’clock.” Raph fluttered his lashes.

“Big news: I’m thinking about quitting too.” Leo gave Raph’s face one last squish before he let go.

“Oh?” Raph craned his brow ridge through his mask.

“Yeah, thinking about starting a new team. I’m still workshopping a name. I’m thinking Mayhem’s Mutants. We get ourselves a cute mascot. Everybody loves a cute mascot.” Leo tipped his head, amused.

“He is cute.” Raph caught the joking bug. “Good luck with that, I’ll have to see. I sent out a ton of resumes and have already gotten a few calls back.”

“That right? Well, make sure to suit up for the interviews and when they hit you with that bit at the end asking if you have any questions, you always, always, ask ‘em about parking. They eat that shit up.” Leo threw out his hand in a smoothing sailing motion.

“Thanks. I think I will.” Raph chuckled.

“Also, like remember though, I’m just saying, my thing has dental…! So… you know… keep your options open, alright?” Leo clucked.

Donnie cuddled you close where he’d pulled you clean over the back of the couch.

You leaned back and bumped your head against the underside of his chin.

He rested there.

Little nail clicks were Splinter and you opened your eyes to see him crawl up onto the couch to approach his middle son.

A small fear caught you and you grabbed Donnie to share the load.

He held you tightly.

It hadn’t occurred to you that Leo’s change could be an impermeant one, but faced with this father, a certain manifestation of how he came to be could upset the balance.

You wanted to interfere, but it was out of your hands.

Splinter touched Leo’s arm before moving to cup his son’s cheek.

He then pinched hard and pulled.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Leo squawked.

“Do you know how long we’ve been waiting!?” Splinter complained.

It was the perfect response.

Leo immediately welled up with tears.

“Come on, pops! C-can’t have been that long…” Leo spoke weepy.

“Foolish boy!” Splinter scolded, but his sharp edge was disintegrating by the second.

Raph smiled and you watched his eyes flash red.

Leo’s joined for a flicker of blue and you felt Donnie jolt around you.

Looking up you found him with a shine of purple in his iris and then the front door exploded open.

“Leo!!!” Mikey shrieked and flew straight to tackle Leo off the couch and into Raph.

“Alright, alright! There’s enough of me to go around! Stop acting like I’ll disappear into another dimension or something!” Leo complained.

A beat of silence passed.

“Not funny, Leo!” Raph growled and pulled all the Hamato into a hug.

“What is wrong with you!?” Mikey hissed.

“You dare joke-!” Splinter threw out frustrated balled fists.

Leo laughed brightly and you felt a very specific fracture in the family mend.

You leaned further into Donnie.

He moved to envelope you, but a growl rumbled out from his stomach.

There was a pause that could only be broken by Mikey, “Dinner bell!”

Everything then went into motion. The meal was salvaged in various stages and you found that the cream you had seen Leo with was because Raph wanted to make his own dessert. He apparently had a cobbler recipe he was proud of and wanted to show off to you specifically. Splinter was able to present his green bean casserole which was admittedly delicious and supposedly his tout to where Mikey got his culinary skills. There was talk of jobs and this and that. In moving groups, you got to mostly rest as the men scarfed down comical plate loads and got into arguments over the silliest things.

It eventually broke off where Raph took full advantage of the kitchen and its central food hub as he always baked. Making quick work of repurposing a casserole dish, he eventually had time to take some measurements of a wall and Donnie dismissed him only to point outside. Raph poked his head out to find supplies on the fire escape and a calling card post-it with a caricature of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. on it that made Leo shudder. Clean up happened with Leo taking heavy point of washing many dishes and Mikey humming alongside him as a mystic dryer with orange tinted air. Raph stacked things up to eventually take with them and Donnie shot off a message to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. from his computer about what was left for the window repair.

It eventually brought a curious Raph over to the computer as he wasn’t going to let his promise go of being the one to fix it. The eldest tacked on a resume of the work he’d done around the lair where he’d expanded arch ways to better fit his size and architecture slid into Donnie’s special interest category. Both men were soon scouring blueprints and you feared it wouldn’t just be a window put back in place in your kitchen.

Nothing you could really do to stop them, you drifted to the side, where the other pair of turtles were entertained and found Splinter alone with a cup of tea on your couch. He gestured you over and made you one where you only faintly wondered where he’d gotten his supplies. You drank an incredible cup of smooth liquid that had you sending awe at the old man who took your praise in stride. A timer went off and Leo got a little too excited. His hand went up where it had been hand mixing a bowl of cream. The fling brought ire then a laugh from Mikey who seemed relentless in hanging off the blue brother.

All of it brought smiles to Leo’s face where piping hot cobbler was passed out with fresh dollops of cream running off.

Donnie was busy fixing a schematic and didn’t step away to grab a portion.

You’d been resting for long enough and got him one sans cream as you knew the melting whip would only sog the cobbler’s crispy top, a complaint you’d known well of your partner. Bringing the plate and a fork over, you set it down beside him to take at his leisure and he passed you a distracted glance along with an affectionate mating call for your effort.

It brought a plate clanging silence to the room.

Donnie immediately bristled.

Raph was the first to break out his excitement. “Life partners?!”

Fury was abated for repulsion on Donnie’s face. “Is that your descriptor?!”

“Uh, duh.” Leo rolled his eyes. “Kinda bigger deal than boring old English to have a special way of saying ‘I love you.’ What do you call it?”

Donnie turned and tried to bury his beak into his computer.

“Nope! Not letting that go!” Leo jumped the counter with Raph excitedly gushing about romance right behind him.

It caused Donnie to up and run from the pair where they circled the apartment making kissy faces as your boyfriend got more and more flustered.

Mikey appeared by your side with a forkful of cobbler. “I’m not into the whole thing.”

You nodded for the sake of it, watching the display and witnessing Splinter doing the same with an overflowing affection.

“Cretins!” Donnie reared a hand on a turn and with it came a wall of purple that Raph and Leo both slammed into.

Leo blinked a few rapid times before he peeled his face off the projection.

“Woah…” Raph ran his hands over the clear purple swath. “When’d you learn to make less lethal stuff?”

“Was he mad mad?” Mikey asked you. “Like ninpo making mad?”

You shook your head as you honestly didn’t believe so.

That made this Donnie’s first projection seemingly created his will alone.

This was confirmed for you as Donnie came forward to study the barrier with a finger curled to his lips.

“Amazing.” Leo was unenthused. “It’s literally a rectangle. Whoop-dee-doo. Wanna actually impress me, egghead? Make it disappear.”

“Here we go.” Mikey exaggerated an eye roll.

“It’s not magic!” Leo bristled.

“You were one step away from saying abracadabra.” Raph snarked.

Leo mimed the magic word mockingly to the oldest.

Donnie had his brow wrinkled during the exchange in clear effort.

Something then occurred to him and he leaned away with a slow exhale as if giving up.

The wall crumbled with pixels collapsing like a perfectly cleared Tetris screen.

Leo arched his mask. “Huh. Well alright.”

“Let’s try for a pistol.” Donnie flared with a tame malevolence for him.

“I’m blameless! You shoot your sensei!” Leo pointed at Raph as he exited and headed over to Splinter. “Got a cup for me?”

“I’d need to boil more wa-” Splinter yawned.

Mikey’s expression grew gooey. “About time.”

“I can stay up!” Splinter complained.

“He’ll be passed out in ten.” Raph told you.

You giggled.

“I will not! This is a special occasion!” Splinter brushed his eldest off with a wave of his hand.

Leo put the kettle on and Splinter fell asleep before it even hissed.

Burners clicked off, there was a quiet movement of gathering things and dividing leftovers. It struck you that Donnie hadn’t consumed anything, but you had a feeling he might later. All based on chance and how things held up, you did your best in choosing to take dishes he might like and a portal was soon formed to transport the rest. Straight into the lair kitchen, things were filed out with the final retrieval being Raph carrying a snoring Splinter through to put him to bed. The eldest then returned once the apartment was emptied and the three Hamato children stood in front of the portal for their goodbyes.

A less than poignant affair, you mostly got a group hug where they wished you well and there were promises of check-in texts. All in order, Donnie stood politely aside and watched on for a slight nod as his great thank you. It was accepted with a few jeers that he barked at and with that the men exited one at a time and Leo’s portal blinked away for the foreseeable future.

Donnie swept you off your feet within seconds. “What happened?”

“Which part?” You tittered as he was pressed behind you and carried you like a hostage to the bathroom.

“You were close! You smell like orange and blue all over.”

“Mikey pulled me out the window and I finally got through to Leo, for real this time.”

“You will shower and explain.” He decided gruffly and it was so endearingly him that you didn’t mind as you stripped.

He sat off to the side, peeking through the curtain as you did a quick wash of your body while regaling him with all that had occurred that night. For Mikey, Donnie cared little, but he ran a gambit of fury at the audacity of the middle Hamato for slighting you. He was still mad, but quieted as you exited the shower damp and nude. It distracted him and he only held a huff as he did his washing up at the sink where you eventually brushed your teeth. Whisked to bed in a none too romantic sense, Donnie instead ate up physical affection in a very literal sense. Mouthing over whatever skin wasn’t coated in pajamas, he obviously scented you before cuddling close where you finally asked him about how he watched your physical therapy.

He began by impressing upon you how proud he was to have you as his mate. He explained that even when he struggled to watch or help, you fought mercilessly and he couldn’t have been more enamored. He even went so far back to remark on your handling of the kidnapping, a lost time that he still applauded you for because however long it was, you’d survived. You’d eventually kissed into him, sweetly at first, in a way that reminded you of tasting a rare bottle of wine. The complexity came with airing and outpoured details.

You found out Donnie had in fact been doing mental constructions during his meditation. While Leo had stopped him from implementing new security cameras, Sinai Hospital had their own footage which Donnie had pilfered and gone through. When he played the tape back and examined it, he’d found that his ninpo didn’t just appear out of thin air, it was constructed there, piece by piece just as he had learned as a child. Hearing Mikey say meditation came with a variety techniques helped him pair the ideas and he found the schematic process to be a soothing one regardless of the lethal creation it was trying to curb. He was pleased with the progress and, as you had seen, had recently start to tap into his ninpo as a pool of energy.

Until tonight he hadn’t been able to conjure anything, but in his increased meditation, he no longer found the raging purple flame inside him. It was now an organ like any other, only it extended far beyond his body’s reach. He could now imagine himself approaching the well as if it were a materials cache. He imagined with practice not only could he manifest anything he could imagine, but there were probably other uses for the purple ooze beyond that.

You added what you knew about the other turtle’s power and Donnie revealed to you the conversation had on the roof. Just as Raph had said, he only explained the history and knowledge of the ninpo and nothing more. It was apparently a combined manifestation of the Hamato clan’s essence. A generational pool of power passed down, it was an exclusive art that was thought to only be tapped by wholly connecting and trusting one’s family. It manifested uniquely to each user, but seemed as unlimited and wild as all mystic arts. There was no discussion after the presensation and the trio on the roof had spent a time in silence, allowing the knowledge to permeate.

You tucked in close to Donnie at the thought of him wholly connecting to save you, his family, and he confirmed that, in that moment, he forgot all else, but a drive to save you. Overridden yourself, you felt compelled to open up about your healing humiliations. From stink to lashing out, Donnie took his time dismantling your concerns while also rubbing those exhausted muscles of yours.

Exhaustion and eventual mutual caressing coaxed loose lips where revealed he’d asked Splinter over because he needed a firsthand account of how love worked between a supposed hero and villain. Now that the forewarned grave harm had finally come to you, Donnie found it difficult to imagine you could have any sort of safe life together so he had to turn to the only pair he knew that had chanced and survived such a feat, successful or not. You admitted what you’d overhead and Donnie didn’t fault you. He only plied affections on how you’d snuck in without his knowledge.

Beofre he diverted back to you, there was something about the way Donnie spoke of his conversation with Splinter.

He had a finality to him.

Not as an ends, but a means to, something about his tone made you think this was the final barrier that had kept him from actually proposing.

You had to ask if that was the case as your lids grew heavy.

It was drawing close to dawn.

You’d spent hours catching up.

“Yes..” He breathed warmth at your intuitiveness. “I had reservations. Unrelated to the grotesque concept of asking a father’s permission, however.”

You were both gazing at each other from your pillows. “That last bit hadn’t crossed my mind. I swear.”

“He… did help...” He admitted. “He apparently proposed to Big Mama.”

You startled as much as your tired body could.

“Her response was to reveal her plans and imprison him to fight as a slave in her arena.”

“Oh…”

“He… still has the ring.”

You reached for Donnie.

He met you with careful fingers.

You wondered if Splinter had been any sort of stuck like Leo. There was the many names the old man had and he’d been open about his regrets. A frustrating like father, like son, you supposed it made sense and felt optimistic for the Hamato going forward.

Their familial bonds were apparently transcendent.

“His didn’t work out, but you think ours will?” You murmured.

“He was happenstance, to be clear. An example, if anything.”

You made a curious trill.

Donnie wormed closer. “Sleep, my love.”

“What was it, Don… exactly?”

Donnie’s beak lightly brushed the tip of your nose. “I was reassured that I am unlike them. Their cycle does not apply to me. I am something new. I am me and am immune to their failure.”

You brushed his cheek with a sloppy swipe. “Only one of you.”

“And you.” He pressed closer to seal the comment, before giving you space to sleep.

💜NEXT💜

Can you believe these two have been around since chapter 21? Hard to imagine a time before my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

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