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#super angst
candywife333 · 9 months
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There is Never A Right Time
Summary:
Jungkook hadn’t thought about the woman he had left for a long time. He had gotten secretly married to her, his judgement clouded under the influence of alcohol,  and all it took was a shadow of distrust to make him abandon her. If the world questioned the sanctity of her character, then the world had to be right. Right? He hoped he was right at least. Because if he wasn’t , he had lost the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life. As he continued to work as a top idol, artist, and entrepreneur time went by. He had other women but they never lasted long in his life. When he attended an award show with the rest of the members, he saw a girl there. Another artist. Definitely someone he knew he had never seen or heard of before. Who was she? Something about her was familiar. Maybe her eyes. And then it struck him, making him go as cold as a corpse. He had seen those same eyes somewhere else alright, in the mirror when he looked at his own reflection every morning.
DISCLAIMER: The character written in this fan fiction does not represent the real Jungkook’s personality or behavior. All of this is fiction. 
WARNING: Fic mentions noncon/rape (does not describe it explicitly in this part), please don’t read if this is a trigger. 
This series is slated to be a trilogy. Here is PART ONE, hope you guys enjoy. Also, I will be creating a permanent tag-list for all my chubby reader fics, please let me know in comments whoever would like to be a part of that. 
  PART 1
The lady stood in front of him and the other members. She exuded a powerful aura, regal and dignified. These qualities were rather an unusual combination for idols, especially Korean idols so he was a little starstruck. Something that was rather unusual for any member of BTS to feel. She couldn't have been more than 18 years old though based on her appearance. The girl must be mixed race because she had very unconventional features for an idol. She had dark thick curly black hair that trailed to her hips and her skin reminded him of strongly brewed milk tea. The even more startling features were her plush lips, a prominent straight nose graced by a diamond stud, and double lidded eyes fringed with what seemed to be thick eyelashes.
She was sporting an unusual outfit as well; a customized skirt and bra set that he only saw gypsies and belly dancers wear. A gold belt adorned her waist sitting lower on her hips with a diamond belly piercing highlighting her lithe , toned figure. He couldn't stop looking at her because strangely enough something about her was familiar.
He made eye contact with her accidentally and what he saw made his heart palpate against his chest. He had seen those same eyes every day of his life in his mirror. Her doe eyes were too similar to his own. They say that eyes are a mirror to the soul, but her eyes were a mirror to his own.
Who was she? He felt a stir of panic as their eyes met and she bowed down low. She was of average height, but her presence seemed to envelope the room since other well known artists,  idols, and staff greeted her politely. The stage director came near her bowing. To Jungkook’s surprise , she spoke in fluent Korean though she seemed to be a foreign artist.
The stage director and the girl were a few feet away from BTS when the stage director exclaimed , “How is your mother doing Cha-ya? She must be worried since you have only promoted up til now in the US, Thailand, and India. Are you having a comfortable time adjusting over here?”
The girl’s eyes lit up in glee as she responded with a little chuckle, “It has for sure been a different experience than the U.S. and India for sure. The stage is so organized and everything is so close by for promotions. I am enjoying it to the max. Mom told me to eat well and sleep 8 hours a day. You know how doctors are like. She’s constantly checking in on me to see if I am stressed out. Saiyan and Arang are also being such worrywarts since this is the first time I’ve been here.”
The stage director continued in mild surprise, “Are they your brothers? I thought you were an only child ?”
She guffawed in a cacophonous fashion which made several idols and artists look her way, in awe and confusion. Jungkook thought that she was a rather different type of artist. Very uninhibited by social norms. Clearly she had not been brought up in Korea.
“Director, we are actually triplets but both of them were born a few minutes ahead of me so they insist that they are my older brothers. We are very tight knit and they will be coming to visit soon. Saiyan is a pretty popular model right now and so he will be finishing his Engineering degree at Washington State and rush over here for Seoul fashion week. Arang on the other hand finished his MBA/Medicine dual degree, so he will be managing a chain of Health and Wellness Resorts over here. “
The director’s jaw slid open in an exclamation. He sputtered in disbelief, “ How are all of your siblings so well studied and managing jobs like that? You must be the only sibling purely in entertainment.” The girl deliberated for a second before responding, “Mom made sure we all had solid educations before pursuing these types of careers. She is always skeptical of fame, and she brought us up to be extremely disciplined, stable, and loyal individuals. I am actually finished with my course in Law (focus in international law) ,but currently all that is stalled for the time being because of my activities in entertainment.”
As Jungkook was hearing this conversation along with the other artists in the room who were curiously eavesdropping as well, the Director continued in awe, “Your mother seems to be an extremely strong lady. I knew she was a doctor  who seemed extremely rich and well off, but she must literally be a goddess to give birth to such high achieving kids. What about your father, what does he do?”
Cha-ya scoffed with a quizzical, somewhat bitter look, “He actually left her before we were even born. We found out who he was when we all finished college. Our mother made sure our upbringing was never lacking. We saw him a lot on the Korean and world news growing up but never knew that he was our dad. You know,  he is someone whose popularity never fades strangely enough. He sold his soul for fame, so it is to be expected perhaps.” The director looked so intrigued and invested as he prodded for more info, “ Who is he? Definitely we would know who he is? Is he a singer, actor, businessman in the industry over here?”
Cha-ya’s entire expression became rigid and mask-like as she replied in what seemed to be a disinterested tone, “ We do not consider him our dad, so neither my brothers, nor I would like to claim him. He was a sperm donor. That is the long and short of it. Who he is, is as irrelevant as what today’s weather forecast is. He betrayed my mother and trusted the world over her. She went through so much pain just to be by his side. And when she thought the pain would end, he left her. I have to be on stage, so if you will excuse me now Sir.”
She side stepped the director and went closer to the entrance of the main stage. Jungkook could feel the bile and vomit rising to his mouth. She had been pregnant when he had left her? He had three kids, that he never knew anything about? This grown beautiful artist was his daughter?And he had two more accomplished sons?  His parents had grandkids? And how the hell did she brith triplets?!! Wouldn’t her vagina tear ??????!!!
His world was crashing down on him as the rest of BTS stared at him with stark grief painted across their faces. They all remembered her name, it was unforgettable.
Before he could process anything, he heard the booming noise starting up on the stage. Wait, wait up a minute! This track was the most popular pop/ rock release of the year all over the US. He saw his daughter he never knew he had on stage in an elaborate headdress dancing with precision and fluidity on stage. She had no backing track, the other idols could tell. This was live. Only one artist sang with no backing track in all her performances this year in the US. She was on MTV and all other award shows, becoming sensational, l hitting all headlines for singing with no backing track usually acapella . Shadow, that was her romanized name, but in all Asian countries she went by Nee-Da.
She had risen to the top for the past 3 years for her herculanean work ethic , creative marketing/business acumen. She was known for her cutthroat ruthlessness in the music industry, mostly aided by the fact that her mother was known to own and manage the world’s most innovative new security system, Poison. He did not know what to be more shocked about at this point? How could he not have recognized her? Seeing her in real life was different from seeing her on stage with all the makeup and ornamentation on.
She was the pop-star of the era, a business mogul with a net worth of close to 300 million dollars at such a young age due to her clothing and makeup line. She was his daughter. How could this even be possible? Jungkook could feel his identity crisis coming. How did he birth the most iconic popstar of this generation, who as of now hated his guts? What scared him even more was the realization of who her mother was.
The lady he had left, the woman he could never forget even in his dreams was her mother. And her mother owned the world’s scariest personal security company, Poison. The company had revolutionized personal security by founding a bracelet and many other gadgets that created magnetic repellant force fields around individuals. It was notorious for being marketed only towards woman and could only be activated when the device recognized the XX chromosome, so the device would never protect men.
Basically, women all around the world who had these devices now had a programmable magnetic forcefield around them which shielded them from the outside world. Firearms, Tasers, and aggressors were all repelled by this technology. Women could safely walk out in the middle of the night as long as they had a device, which was continuously made affordable at its very inception by the reclusive owner of the company.
With this  technology ,the owner instantly became the most powerful business woman, icon, feminist, that the world knew. That is in fact all the world knew. That she was a woman. But nobody knew anything else about her, she was an elusive person who didn't show up to most media events. Her personal motto was that the products advocated for themselves. Her financial officers and other company higher ups showed up in the media, but she never did. Most people in the world didn't even know how this woman looked like, because of how reclusive she was.
All people knew was that she was Cha-ya’s mother and that she had two other kids.
What Jungkook got to know that made him almost go into a stroke was the sheer fact that Cha-ya’s mom was his Y/N. The one whose heart he had broken years ago.
Y/N was a billionaire of gargantuan proportions, a net worth that made his look like chump change.  His daughter was the iconic popstar of the century, someone whose craze and popularity surpassed his own in his heyday. Which meant that his son Saiyan was the new model who had just walk in Paris Fashion Week as the face of Armani. The same one that Jimin’s daughter had raved about the other day. Which meant that his son Arang became the CEO of the exclusive wellness resort, Ellysium , a resort only catered to the richest of the richest. All this calculations overwhelmed Jungkook to the point that there was only one reasonable outcome. He fainted.
He woke up to the sound of his members whispering in anxious voices to one another. “Do you think he can handle this right now?” Jin asked Namjoon. “I have no clue bro, I mean he hasn't seen her in years and the last time he saw her, he treated her so badly that even I felt ridiculously hurt for her” Namjoon sighed in a rather morose tone of voice. Hoseok scoffed as he seethed,  “Do you think she will even acknowledge him after all he had done to her? Jungkook left her to face a whole media circus alone while he impregnated her when he was inebriated, mind you. Then, to top it all of with a cherry he not only remembered nothing of the process, but she found him shagging a whole different girl the next day. Do you think that you would forgive actions as heinous as those”?
Jungkook felt dizzy as he struggled to sit up on the sofa. Jimin rushed to him with a frown on his face and worry painting his eyes, “You doing okay Kookie? Are you alright staying here for the rest of the award show, or do you want to head back home?” Still dazed from his fall, Jungkook responded pensively, “No it’s alright. I just need to catch my bearings and I can be there for the rest of the show”. Before the rest of the members could stop him Yoongi spit out bitterly, “You say you are okay attending the show. But are you sure you really want to? Cha-ya’s mother will be in attendance, flying out to see her babygirl win an award. You sure you can handle that Jungkook”?
Jungkook felt his heart racing, panic overtaking his mind. How could he face her? He had wronged her in so many ways? How could he show his miserable face to her after the way he had ruined her life? Y/n was never even his girlfriend or fiancé at the time. But, he had compromised her in the worst way possible and then had not even remembered his mistake the day after. She had paid for his mistakes by bearing children and caring for them when he had not even known they existed. Even if he had known , it was questionable whether he could've done anything signifiant. He had been embroiled in multiple scandals and caught in alcohol addiction during that phase of his life. He was living wild and no way would he have been a sober, or healthy father to his kids.
With the help of a few assistants , the group slowly trudged towards the celebrity seating quadrant of the award show venue. Cha-ya was up on the stage receiving the award for Most Streamed Artist from the hands of a veteran Korean actress. As Jungkook watched his daughter---as strange as it felt to say those words, receive the award with a blinding smile on her face, he felt his chest hurt. What type of crime had he committed in his previous life that he didn't even get to see his girl grow up? She was beautiful, sharing so many of his features, his bulbous nose, doe-like eyes, and rounded face.
She resembled him more than she resembled her mother. And before anyone could even expect it Cha-ya spoke into the microphone, “I thank everyone at VEX entertainment for helping me get to where I am today. I would also like to thank my staff and all the people behind the scenes who have pushed me to this position. I hope to make all of you proud. None of this would be possible without all of you”. She took in a deep breath as she announced, “But, most importantly I have to thank my mother. She brought me up to be the strong woman that I am today. She worked so hard to give us everything and never left us lacking. We never felt the absence of a father because she is both to me and to my brothers. I would like to call her up on stage, so I can dedicate this award to her. Please mom, come up on stage”.
Everything was moving too fast around Jungkook as he breathed in shallow pants. He felt like he was breathing too fast and his brain was not functioning. He felt paralyzed. Stuck. But he couldn't even catch his breath when he saw the mother of his children sweep into the area where he and the members sat. He could barely recognize the bold woman he was looking at. She looked lethal, powerful, untouchable ---the direct opposite of what she had been, a warm approachable girl.
She was draped in a blood red shimmering sari crafted with gold thread, an ensemble exposing a massive fire breathing dragon tattoo overarching the entirety of what seemed to be her left hip barely reaching to her belly button . The dress was close to backless with just a red resolute thread holding the top sleeveless jacket in place. You could tell she worked out, but she had all the feminine curves befitting a woman, a rounded stomach hidden by the shadow of the sari covering her modestly. Her face was covered with black sunglasses and she adorned her wrists with plain gold bangles, her neck laced with a simple gold chain.
She walked onto the steps leading to the stage in blood red heels as the entire celebrity section of the audience got a view of her back and tattoo. The lady was arresting to look at--all the way down from her aura to her body to her attire.
Y/N walked up to her daughter with arms opened, hugging the girl on stage with all the warmth that you would expect a mother to have for her child. A smile as radiant as a sunrise obliterated Y/N’s face as she spoke into the mike, “I am so proud to be here today to see my baby girl receive this award. She has worked so hard and all her efforts have come to fruition today. Thank you for allowing me to be on stage to celebrate this award with her”.
Both mother and daughter walked off the stage hand in hand as one of the MC’s for the award show started to walk up the stage. Collective gasps rang through the aisles as people saw who the next MC was. It was Saiyan. He had donned a simple Black Armani suit which highlighted just how devastating he looked. He took after Y/N more as he had slightly more defined cheekbones and huge eyes fringed with thick dark lashes to make any woman envious. He hulked onto stage, towering over his mom and sister at a height of 6′3. He laughed and hugged both of them, kissing his mom on the forehead,  and strolled to the mike to present the next award.
Jungkook’s eyes felt like they were about to pop out his head and his head was about to fall off his body. All three of them were on stage looking like such a happy family, radiant and warm. He could tell how much love his kids had for their mother . Y/N kissed Saiyan back on his cheek and walked off stage with Cha-ya in hand, giggling with her. These were all the people who he should've had in his life for years, held closest to his heart, but his poorly made decisions or lack thereof had distanced him from his own flesh and blood. 
Blinded by agitation and grief, Jungkook rushed out of the aisles, surprising his members as he absconded backstage to catch hold of Y/N and Cha-ya. But they weren’t alone. Cha-ya and Y/N were inundated by so many stage staff and artists who wanted to welcome them. His gut clenched as he saw all the men eyeing Y/N like she was the tastiest meal they had seen in centuries. He heard Y/N respond graciously to one staff member, “Oh, thank you for loving my outfit. It was designed by an upcoming Thai/Indian designer. She really went over the top with the gold motifs.” 
Jungkook couldn't stop himself as he pushed people, shoving past them trying to get to Y/N and his daughter. Staff around him were startled as they saw him wading through the crowd to the center of the room, whispering in shock at his pushy nature. As soon as he got in front of them, he was finally able to process the magnitude of Y/N’s beauty. Y/N was shocked for a mere a second at his sudden appearance and to his great surprise, kissed Cha ya on the cheek walking away from him as she told her, “Baby, mommy will be in your changing room. I have to take care of something”. Cha ya nodded at her mother, her eyes glazing over with a coat of suspicion and bitterness. She bowed stiffly towards Jungkook , “Sunbae, nice to meet you. It is an honor to meet you”. Her eyes took up a hard glint as she saw the rest of BTS filter into the room. She faced them and bowed to all of them, speaking in a lackadaisical tone “It is an honor to meet all of you. I have grown up watching all of you”. Her face did not show interest in engaging with them and she looked at them with a rather disinterested attitude. 
“Well I should get going. My mother is waiting for me”, she said as she glided seamlessly out of the room towards her dressing room. 
Jungkook felt tears well up in his eyes and anxiety stain his mind as he could see how cold his daughter was being towards him, as though he were a stranger. She had greeted him as though he was just any person on the street, as though they didn't share blood. As though he meant nothing to her. Jimin and Namjoon closed in around him, steering him towards a secluded corner of the room as he started sobbing miserably as though he were not able to breath. His eyes were red, tears flowing down his eyes, wetting his cheeks as he understood the gravity of what sin he had truly committed. 
He wiped frantically at his eyes, pushing away from his members as he ran towards Chaya’s changing room. He heard Yoongi scream beyond him, “Jungkook you better get back here! Don’t do this Jungkook, You need to calm down!!” Jungkook could not be reasoned with as he darted towards the room that a surprised staff had pointed at. He arrived in front of the door, barely catching his breath as he knocked in a hurried manner, desperate to speak with the most important people in his life that he had alienated. 
Chaya opened the door in a pink satin robe, leaning against the door with a sigh, “I knew you wouldn't be patient. I told mom it was a bad idea for her to fly out. She did anyway knowing that she would have to contend with you.” She sneered as she bit out in a crisp manner, “Well, why don’t you come in Jungkook -sshi? Or will you stay outside and make a circus of our reputation? Funny how you are obsessed with keeping yours, but have no problem blemishing others. You couldn't stay away, could you? You managed to for so many years, but now you fail at what you claim to be best at. Not caring. How juvenile”. She snarked all this at him vindictively as she simultaneously opened the door, gesturing for him to come into the room. 
The rest of the members stood outside as she sardonically queried, “Well, would you all grant us some privacy? I am sure we will have Jungkook-ssi out of the room soon enough. It shouldn't be a very long conservation. There isn't much to say anyway.” Yoongi’s eye twitched as he glared in silence at the rude girl who was literally the unexpected niece of all of the members. 
She closed the door on their faces.
Inside the room, Y/N sat on the couch surveying Jungkook’s appearance with mild interest. “Why are you here Jungkook? Do you need to say something?”, she calmly asked.  Y/N’s mind whirled in turmoil even as she looked calm on the outside. Why was he in front of them all these years when he himself had shunned her at her weakest moment? Jungkook was hyperventilating as he asked in a cracked voice, “I am not going to ask you the Stu-pid question of whether these kids are mine or not. Because I know that they are all the same age and I can see it in their faces and their mannerisms. They are mine”. He took a deep breath as he felt the panic overtake him, “But why did you never tell me about them? Why did you take me away from their lives. You know how much my mother and father wanted grandkids. Out of everybody in the world, you knew it the best. Why did you deprive me and my parents of them?” 
In an infuriatingly placating tone, Y/N responded without a hitch in her voice, “Don’t you remember? You didn’t want anything to do with me because I had apparently betrayed our friendship by being a characterless bitch and luring you into fucking me when you were drunk. Can you not make a quick trip down memory lane? Or has it been too long for you to remember the lurid media details that tore me apart? You may have forgotten but I never will”. 
She took a sip of tea as she tapped her nails on her lap, “You wouldn't hear me out when I told you that we had both accidentally gotten married when were drunk. Even though I knew that you never wanted anything to do with me romantically, you still initiated intercourse even as I clearly told you no. I begged you to let go of me. But in your blind livid anger of finding the marriage certificate lying on the couch later that night, you didn't do what most men do. You didn't do the practical thing, which is to rage and get over it. You didn’t tear the certificate and put an end to it there. You decided that I deserved to pay, and you fucked me even as I begged you to not ruin me. But, then again,  why are you asking me all the gruesome details, when you were the perpetrator?”
As Jungkook clutched his head, bending it down in dismay and shame, she quietly drawled, “We could've simply dissolved the marriage. It was not done seriously. It was done in a compulsion, as both of us were under the influence. Influence that you forced down my throat if we are being truly accurate. But, why did you have to ruin my life even when you were in a sober state? What excuse do you have for that? Other than your ridiculously misplaced anger? So you forced me when you were sober, making me pay in the most pitiful manner.”
 She laughed bitterly, eyes bereft of emotion, retreating behind a mask of forced complacency , “You knew, out of everyone else, since you were my friend at the time, that I had never even done it before. But you still treated me more pathetically than a piece of trash on the sidewalk. You degraded me as you violated me, taunting me with the most hurtful epithets known to man. You stripped me of my dignity. Don’t you remember jungkook? Don’t you remember any of it ? If you do, why are you forcing me to re-live it? I had kids, and I moved on from that pathetic, trusting, giving version of myself. You taught me that I must always pay the price for being kind. I will never forget it”. 
The torture was too much to bear. Jungkook crumpled off the sofa, onto the floor as he started sobbing, remembering what he had done to her. He remembered how he had hurt her again and again. They had been extremely close friends at the time, and he had ruined their friendship by crossing the line when both of them were drunk. At the time he had loved another girl, one who showed him how disgusting humanity could be. Y/N had warned him against her multiple times when they were friends , but he stupidly enough had stuck onto that girl, having a toxic relationship with her. 
When that girl had walked in on Y/N and him, finding the marriage certificate splayed out on the couch, she had broke up with him. In that frenzy of indignation, he had committed the vilest mistake of his entire life. He had forced Y/N, someone with no sexual experience, to suffer. He had degraded her verbally as he had humiliated and forced her. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. He remembered it everytime he looked at his reflection. When the violation was done, she had walked away pitifully, stumbling away from his form as she quietly uttered, “I am sorry for taking away your chance at happiness. You have punished me in a way I can never forget. I will never forget what you have taught me about our friendship. Now I know how much our friendship meant to you. Don’t worry, you will never hear from me again ”. 
As cum and blood had streamed down legs, she had dragged herself out of his house, to go back to her lonely hotel room where she sobbed and cursed at her mother for giving birth to her.  She cursed at god for her sheer existence. She would never trust again. He had damaged her forever. 
An hour after she left his house, Jungkook had understood his grievous mistake and told his Hyungs the sin he had committed. They all stared at him in shock as Yoongi started beating him, “Is THIS what we taught you Jungkook? To be a rapist and a miserable excuse of a human being?!” Everyone else stared at him in shock. Namjoon went to Bang PD to ask him to contact their lawyer. What if Y/N launched a lawsuit against Jungkook and the group? 
To all their collective surprise, they received news from Y/N’s friend Myrna, a foreign communications director at HYBE, that she had left for the U.S., going back to her home country. She had stopped at a hospital before leaving and handed Myrna an NDA drafted by a lawyer, before leaving, stating that she would not reveal anything that had gone down that day. The NDA also stated that she would like to never be contacted again, and that HYBE would face heavy legal repercussions if they ever attempted to do so. A divorce application form had been filled out and left in a pamphlet as well. All Jungkook had to do to nullify the marriage was to sign off on it”. 
Jungkook lived through his memories once again as Y/N smoothed down her dress, “If you would like to get to know the kids, I will not stop you. In fact, I had reached out to your company regarding the kids when they were born. But, I never heard back from them since. I even personally tried contacting you and your members, but none of you ever responded. Regardless, bygones will be bygones. The past is in the past. Cha-ya, Saiyan, and Arang have been brought up to be kind, forgiving individuals. They are not ruthless like their dad. Though they are angry, rightfully so as of now, they will come around and try to get to know you eventually.”
“Now, I will leave the room and allow you to talk to Cha-ya and Saiyan if that is what you wish to do. Arang will be arriving in five minutes”. 
As she got up to leave the room, she felt a firm vascular hand wrap around her wrist. She looked back to see Jungkook on his knees, head down, whimpering “I don’t wish to just know my kids. I wish to know the wife I never had”. 
Y/N reached to remove his hand off her wrist, “You must not understand what the true definition of the words ‘too little, too late’ mean”. 
TAGLIST:
@sporadicarcadebanana , @darkuni63, @jessicalynn85
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chris-continued · 5 months
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Something something forbidden lovers that were never meant to be something something hold me as you kill me in the end something something I was never meant to exist therefore this should’ve never happened something something I’ll think about the temporary person I fell for- for all eternity
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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year
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Too Late Masterlist
summary: You’ve always secretly pined over Eddie Munson, your best friend, but when you find out he’s dating Chrissy Cunningham, you reach your breaking point. you seek comfort from Gareth, your second best friend. you figure out he’s got a crush, but you don’t know who, you were determined to figure it out though. but he was determined to keep his feelings for you locked away forever. but plans change, right?
warnings: (18+) alcohol, porn, mentions of masturbation, brief mentions of slut shaming, abusive/manipulative eddie, hospitals, smut.
character description: fem, she/her pronouns, female anatomy, hair at least long enough to sweep back from face.
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part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8
part 9
part 10
part 11
part 12
part 13
part 14
part 15
part 16 - finale
if you'd like to read any of my other works, you can find them here :)
a spotify playlist i curated specifically for this fic:
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preetkiran1016 · 2 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Unreliable Narrator, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Grief/Mourning, Episode: s07e10 Death's Door, Coda, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Hurt No Comfort, Heavy Angst, Feels, sad as fuck, Drunkenness, Dean Winchester is Not Okay, No one is ok, Everyone Needs A Hug, i wrote this in a two day haze of mania and now you have to suffer with me, pain is good for character building, light destiel, Like super light, sprinkled in, for a touch of flavor Summary:
There was no one left to pray to.
He did anyway.
I blame you for this @gracekisses. You made that post and now the brainworm took root. 
@savingyou. Thank you for being a badass beta and alpha reader. You rock.
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triona-tribblescore · 2 months
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TW// Abuse implication
Thinking about possible Vox and Angel's interactions and how they'd go down. Theres such a unique mix of hatred to each other and common ground with their different experiences with Valentino, has me thinking.
Also just want to clarify I love Vox's character a LOT but ofc obv don't sympathise with him or think he is any way shape or form a decent individual, cant with stupid toxic dumbass x
AND IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES OR TYPOS NO YOU DONT- (i was so tired when drawing it forgive me TwT)
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tennant-davids · 9 months
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GOOD OMENS 1x02 - 2x06
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mossy-box · 6 months
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Tw: Slight blood (minimum)
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My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars - Mitski
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lilispoon · 1 year
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The snow beneath Arna’s boots made a cracking sound with each trudging step, but she was as graceful as a colibri compared to Sadu’s stumbling gait. As she lost balance completely, Arna reached out and grasped her forearm to prevent an inevitable and embarrassing face plant. She pulled Sadu up into a standing position and turned to face her, putting her hands on her shoulders.
“Take my hand,” Arna offered. “I know being patient isn’t in your repertoire but when the snow is this thick it’s basically water.”
Sadu responded with a huff, before taking Arna’s hand and matching her movements until they were in lockstep. “This is your first time in Garmelad, correct? How are you so good at this?”
Arna giggled at her mispronunciation. “There’s a country even farther west of here where the snow falls just as heavily,” she winced at the bitter winds. “Although the weather there doesn’t seem to actually hate you like it seems to here.”
“I doubt it,” Sadu scoffed. “Only hateful people could live in climate this unkind.”
Arna seemed to hide a sigh and a frown at that. Sadu sought to change the subject:
“What kind of beasts did you hunt in that place?”
Arna looked up and grinned at that. “Dear sister,” she smiled, “have you ever seen a Mylodon?”
Sadu furrowed her brow. “I can’t say I have.”
“Imagine a huge, muscular couerl with huge horns and goring tusks.”
Sadu’s eyes lit up in excitement. “How. Big.”
Arna flashed her a sly smile. “Bigger than a Morbol.”
Sadu’s jaw practically dropped to her feet.
Arna let out a belly laugh and dropped to her knees, not realizing her hand was still firmly in Sadu’s. Both sisters were pulled down face-first into the snow, laughing in glee. They each flipped onto their backs and stared up at the sun, filtered dimly through the snowfall. This place did not seem so harsh from this perspective.
“Sister?” Arna spoke first.
“Yes, my sister?”
“I think this is the first lifetime we’ve spent apart,” Arna frowned.
“Why do you think so?” Sadu asked.
Arna sighed. “Because it’s been so hard. I feel like it wasn’t supposed to happen. What if I die before you, or you before me? Will we never be siblings again? All because I chased a phantom into a Garlean patrol?”
Sadu remained silent for a while.
“It’s not your fault,” She finally replied, “that the Dusk mother had other plans for you. She wanted to temper you, to make you stronger. She wanted to make you the Warrior we needed.”
“This might be blasphemy,” she grimaced. “But I don’t know if She made the correct decision. What I do know is that two seeds planted too close together will strangle each other for control of the plot of land. Maybe the Steppe is my plot and yours is somewhere else. And maybe next life, we won’t have to work so hard because in this life we made the world a better place for future lives.”
Sadu turned to look at her sister, who was whimpering pathetically, face awash with tears.
“Or maybe,” Sadu blushed and turned away. “She’s just punishing you for always being the crybaby!”
Arna squeezed her sister’s hand as she wiped away her tears.
“I’ll make sure to come home more often.”
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morgana-ren · 8 months
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i love angst, and i love your writing, but please, PLEASE, i beg you, could you write some hope of tav ever returning now that the imbecile, has realised the error of his ways 🥺😭 (either way, thank you so much, for all your astarion writtings, it has made me feel things, the angst is real and my masochistic heart loves it🥲)
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First part of the story HERE
Common complaint I got on that one! So I fixed it just for y'all. This ending is much less sad and much more sappy, so here is the comfort you need after all that angst!
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"Darling, will you smile for me? Just once more. Please--"
He feels her cheeks in his palms, the soft skin against his battle-hardened callouses. Desperation cradles his unbeating heart, and for a moment, the emotion is far too much. A searing flame after centuries of frost. A bonfire in a blizzard. It hurts-- it burns--
"My love, I just need you to--"
"Anything my lord, anything at all for you. Simply command me and I will do anything you ask."
"No, I can't-- I-- I won't do it. I won't. I won't!"
"My lord?"
Her head cocks, turning slowly to look upon him, but her eyes-- they are empty; beetle-black and hollow. Her smile is uncanny as a painted doll, her movements disjointed and inhuman. Her teeth are stained crimson with blood, dripping, dripping, ever dripping down, never swallowed, only pooling.
She is light as a feather as she slips away from him, her skin marbling into a sickly gray before ash spreads across her body as a disease, smearing her form into nothingness. Only her face is left untouched, pretty as porcelain, unflinching and unfalling save a small crack that splinters down from her forehead down to her eyes, revealing inky black abyss beneath.
"My lord-- Oh, my tender, vicious lord. I can feel your anguish-- your hunger. Devour me to be whole once more--"
Her blood smells of rot and she--
She is too far gone to save. Too far gone to ever be saved.
"I won't!"
Whirlwind. Pain. Confusion and dread and seeping anguish. A maelstrom of rage and all-consuming despair swelling from within his soul—
—his soul?
The world around him falls away, a wicked tornado thrashing him about, his mind howling in the eternal winds--
And suddenly he is in a chair.
Not a throne. A chair— and a rather uncomfortable one at that.
"What in the hells—"
His vision spins, nausea curling his gut into a wicked tide of sickness barely restrained by his teeth. He tastes stale blood crawling up his throat, threatening to overturn onto the faded rug beneath him.
"Did you see what you wished for, little spawn?"
The voice takes him by surprise. It is not hers, but another, less familiar voice. The wailing animal in his head retreats to a dull roar as his memory creeps back. A brightly colored tent assaults his vision, piecemeal rugs and odd, foreign trinkets abound on makeshift shelves, and before him sits a strange old woman, hood pulled heavy over her straggling gray hair.
"I-- What was that?"
He sees her cracked, aging lips upturn, gnarled hands placed protectively over a strange orb on the table touching his knees. "I have shown you your future, vampling. Was it to your liking?" Panic rises within his stomach again, and though he does not breathe, he clutches his chest. The smell of incense clogs his nostrils and again, the wave of sick threatens to spill forth. Wretched taste of metallic, aged blood sits heavy on his tongue, all sensation too much-- all of it too much.
"No-- No, that cannot be it!"
"This is your path, Pale Elf. The road you walk. The power you seek is well within your grasp, but as I told you before, it will cost you everything."
He vehemently shakes his head, denying it. Denying it before her and all the Gods.
"You told me upon entry that no price was too great for your reward. Do you still agree with this sentiment?"
"No! Not-- not her. Not her. Not that! I couldn't--"
"You can and you shall, sure as the moon follows the sun. You will have everything you ever wanted, but cost of this ritual is plain before you. You cared not for the many souls left to your mercy that are crushed beneath your tyrannical fist in your ascension, but what of the sole one that resides in your heart?"
Her. The light of his life. The air he breathes. The sun on his frigid flesh, the warmth that melts his icy heart.
"No," He hisses, trying to stand, but ultimately unable to muster the strength. "I won't! There-- There must be another way. Show me!"
"There is no other way," She says, solemnly. "It is inevitable."
He swallows down the information like a boulder lodged in his gullet. Her words echo endlessly in his mind, bouncing off the walls and lodging shards of ice directly in his soul.
"What if I-- What if I don't ascend? Tell me, what if I don't?"
She smiles again, teeth flashing through her thin lips. "That is another path, little elf." "I need to know. I-- I need certainty. I won't do this to her, but I--" He pauses, grappling with everything in his mind, desperately flitting about to absorb it all. "If I am going to forgo this, I need to be certain. I need to know that I can protect her, that she will be safe--"
But the woman simply shakes her head.
"Everyone must choose. For some, the path is dark, but for you, you see more than most will ever have the comfort of knowing. I can offer you nothing more. Should you initiate the Rite, you know this will come to pass. I can tell you nothing more if you choose to not. The future is yet unwritten, and the quill resides in your hands." "Then why can I not have both!" He slams a fist on the table, clawing at the soft wood. For the first time in ages, tears prick at his pale lashes and frustration wells a knot in his throat. "Why--" "Because one path is wholly your own, while the other is a tangled web, such is the nature of deals with the Hells. You will get everything you ever wanted and lose everything that made it worth having."
His head slumps, defeated and miserable. Silvery tears slide down the curves of his cheeks, even as he attempts to bite them back. He thought he would find comfort in knowing the future, but all it has given him is utter horror.
"Despair not," She continues. "Yes, you will wither under the sun, an eternally cursed dweller of the night, but all is not lost, is it? The one you love, will she stray from your side?" "I wanted her to have better than that," He sniffles, needling his lip with a fang. "I cannot brave the sun, but her-- She deserves better than that-- better than me."
"And what of what she feels?"
His brows furrow, and he peers up at the woman from tear-beaded lashes.
"You are a night walker; it is in your nature to be selfish. But love is not selfish, little vampling. You must fight your nature, your inherent self-loathing, or your love will always find the fire. What of what she desires?"
"She loves me," He says with absolute certainty. "And I--" "Do you love her?"
"Yes," He hisses, almost insulted that she would ask. "More than anything. I'm here, aren't I?"
"Then the rest matters naught. If you love her, you will allow her the agency to choose-- something you deny her as an ascendent. You must grow past your own follies. To love is to be vulnerable, and you must allow both yourself and her this freedom."
They are hard words to swallow, and yet, he feels the truth resound in them. She would not leave his side, even as he tried to force her to understand. Even as an instrument of his manipulation and schemes came to light, she stood steadfast with him, hand entwined in his, ready to face the fire together.
"I-- I need to know she will be safe."
Again, the woman shakes her head. "You cannot. You must fight fate if you wish to overturn it. You face dire odds, though throwing the dice in your favor now will doom you later should this outcome be the confirmation of your fears."
He sighs, face crinkling as he sniffs once more, summoning the willpower to swallow down the agony of his choice. He finds the strength in his legs to push himself upward from the chair, weak and shaking as a newborn fawn as he does so. "I will do whatever I need to. Anything."
"Then you may yet see this through."
He can hear the fanfare of the circus outside, the bawdy bards strumming away on their lutes and banging on drums, the elated screams of the children and their parents. Facing the light now seems impossible, but he must find his way home to her-- he has to be with her now now now--
"The coin first, boy."
He snaps out of his delirium only long enough to fish his hands into one of his pockets, bringing out a coin. Aged and neglected, the sinister engraving of a skull peers up at him from his palm, ruby eyes gleaming in the light as he tosses it into the woman's knobbily-jointed hands.
"Best of luck to you, night-child," She tucks it away. "We may yet meet again." "No offense, but I hope not."
"Me too, Little Star."
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He pays little mind to the bustling streets and bursting taverns of Baldur's Gate, his feet carrying him back to camp as swiftly as his body will allow. It takes him until sundown even as he damn near jobs, ripping through the tree line and into the ruins with the intensity of a man starved.
"Astarion!" Karlach greets him, trying to wave him over. "I've got a bet with Gale about--" "Where is she?" Astarion immediately cuts her off, looking around frantically.
"Who?" Karlach raises a brow.
"Who else?" Wyll crosses his arms, looking intrigued at Astarion's intensity.
"Oh! In her tent, I think. Why? Gotcha a special something' in town for her, eh?" Karlach tries to rib at him, but he pushes past her without a second glance.
"Bet it's a fancy new dress he needs to tear off of her immediately," Karlach rolls her eyes before returning to her business.
He bursts into her tent to find her hunched over a book, tongue poking from between her teeth, as she scans over the page. This only lasts a few seconds before he scrambles onto the bed, squeezing her as tightly as he can manage, burying his nose into her hair, tears brimming in his eyes once more.
"Woah, hey!" She laughs, carefully setting her book aside, trying to discern what in the hells he is mumbling endlessly into her neck.
Need you-- need you-- love you-- can't lose you-- don't ever--
She hushes him, realizing something has gone terribly, terribly wrong, kissing his head and tugging him close. "Hey, what's wrong?"
She tries to cup his cheeks and bring his face up but he adamantly refuses, hard-swallowing the urge to bawl into her shoulder with every ounce of willpower he has. All he can manage is to cling to her, half sobbing, visions of that terrible future swimming in his head. He cannot let it come to pass, he will not--
And she holds him, cradling him in her arms, hushing him gently. Her face creases with worry, running her hands through his silvery hair as he pulls him into her lap.
"Little Star, what's wrong? You seem so upset. What can I do to make you happy, my love?"
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"Is it done?" Ulma leans down as she enters the tent, carefully dodging the intricate tassels of the blanket strewn over the entryway.
"It is," The strange old woman replies, still rubbing the coin with her worn thumb.
"And?"
"I showed him nothing but truth," She says quietly. "I did not manipulate his vision. Only channeled it."
"That tells me nothing. I need to know if our children are safe."
"I cannot tell you this, Ulma. You know of the ways of our tribe; our relationship with these magics." Ulma's lips purse, her exasperation evident in her humorless expression. "I need to know--"
"His reaction was genuine. That was not my doing. He knows the price of power. I cannot tell you if he will pay it regardless," The old woman's head lifts, a slight mischievous smile playing on her lips. "But I can tell you what I think."
"And what do you think?"
"I have seen his soul-- the heart of it. I believe you will see our children yet. He will spare our heart to spare his own in kind. It beats in that woman," Her eyes twinkle in the low candlelight, a genuine smile widening across her cheeks. "I believe he can find redemption yet."
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carrotkicks · 4 months
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this place feels familiar...
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legobiwan · 1 year
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I was rolling around this post in my brain, considering the manhole cover-shield scene and I had this...thought about a fun, semi-angsty off-screen scenario after the general hullabaloo from Bowser's incursion into Brooklyn has calmed down.
We know from the movie that Mario is injured during the final fight with Bowser, that he had a plethora of cuts and nasty bruises that would need attention. We also know from the movie that Luigi, our unhinged king, picked up a metal manhole cover to block fire.
Basic science would tell us that this manhole cover likely reached some excruciating temperatures rather quickly, and that Luigi's gloves/outfit (which, considering their junked-up van), were probably not the highest quality. Meaning, I have a feeling our green hero might have accumulated a few burn injuries and, given what we know about his character, might have neglected to say anything about this.
Anyway, cue Mario and Luigi getting ready for bed after the whole crazy day, and Luigi, who is so tired he isn't even thinking about what he's doing at this point, absently changing into his sleeping shirt. That's when Mario notices the burn marks. That's when Mario freaks out like the highly protective older brother he is.
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elitadream · 7 months
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As soon as I began receiving asks about Junior regarding my body swap concept a few days ago, I knew I wanted to add him in a short sequence. 💙
I've considered many different scenes in which he would be included, but there was one in particular that kept coming back to my mind, and it was the exact moment he would agree to safely lead Luigi to "Bowser" (aka Mario). In this specific scenario, he would be mostly oblivious to what's going on, and would thus show palpable mistrust towards Luigi at first, who he doesn't really know and hasn't yet opened up to. But upon seeing how distraught the poor man is, Junior would feel for him and let his guard down. 🤲
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onlysushicat · 7 months
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i am begging on my hands and knees that you draw davekat long distance relationship... THE PAIN IS MY PLEASURE
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what if Sburb returns the players back to where they started when they win the game, keeping their memories intact so they dont forget the "amazing adventure" they lived?
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perlukafarinn · 2 months
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need a fic set after amok time where spock ponders that he's gonna need a new bondmate eventually. and kirk goes, "well, what about me?"
spock considers this and very logically deduces that yes, kirk would be a suitable mate due to their mental compatibility, aligned careers and his general good qualities. "and also i'm in love with you," kirk helpfully adds.
spock is a bit alarmed by that, as he's not sure he can fulfill kirk's emotional needs but kirk assures him that just being with him is enough.
so they bond and begin to share quarters and it's a surprisingly easy leap to make. kirk is a model bondmate, considerate of spock's needs, offering intimacy when spock wants it and giving him space when necessary. spock does his best to return the favor and although he still occasionally worries that he cannot be everything kirk needs, kirk is always quick to reassure him.
then one day in their shared quarters after a shift, spock looks up from his paperwork at kirk. kirk, noticing him looking, gives him a soft smile and realization strikes spock like a bolt of lightning.
he is in love with kirk. it was never about kirk being the logical choice, spock wanted to bond with him because he loves him.
when he tells kirk this, his smile widens but he otherwise doesn't respond and another realization hits.
"you knew," he accuses kirk.
kirk hums. "i gambled."
then he holds out his hand and spock accepts the ozh'esta and is quietly grateful that this conversation will never be known to mccoy
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mariposa-writes · 7 months
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The Rumor Mill
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Pairing: Travis Kelce x Reader
Word count: 1.2k
Overview: The truth hurts more than the rumors.
CW: infidelity, betrayal, emotional distress, and relationship complications.
As the rumors continued to spread, you couldn't help but feel a jumbled mix of frustration and hurt. Every other day seemed to bring about a new headline or TikTok video speculating on Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift's supposed relationship. You knew that it shouldn't matter. After all, you and Travis were nothing more than friends with benefits. Despite all this, it didn't make the rumors sting any less.
You wouldn't have agreed to being fuck buddies if you'd known what laid ahead. In the beginning, it sounded like a great idea; both of your jobs were too time consuming for any kind of committed relationship. Yet after some time, you started to develop feelings for the six-foot-five tight end, and you couldn't help the ball of anxiety that continued to grow in your stomach, knowing that you'd be the one walking away with a broken heart.
It was Travis's fault, really, for being so infuriatingly perfect. He went above and beyond to make sure you felt cherished, both inside and outside the bedroom. From ordering takeout on your busiest nights to ensuring that your pleasure surpassed his in every encounter, he always left you feeling valued.
He texted you this evening, asking what you were up to. You knew this was his way of inviting himself over for sex. Typically, you'd be all for it, but with all the rumors going around, you decided against it. Sorry, not feeling too good. Started my period. That was the response you gave him. It wasn't completely false - your period had indeed started and you weren't exactly feeling your best either. However, Travis usually didn't mind when you were on your period and the amazing orgasms he gifted tended to ease away any cramps.
You didn't bother waiting for his reply, instead tossing your phone on the white fluffy rug and heading for your kitchen. All you wanted to do was curl up on your couch with a tub of ice cream and watch reruns of love island, to make yourself feel a little better about your life.
You grabbed the rocky road from the fridge, doing just that as you snuggled into your comfy couch. You only made it through one and a half episodes, before your door bell was ringing. You groaned, throwing the blanket off of you and heading for the front door.
It was probably your stupid neighbor lady, wanting to complain about how you didn't hid your trashcans well enough. You yanked open the door, ready to go off on the poor soul standing on the other size, but to your surprise Travis was there with flowers and a grocery bag in his hand, a Walgreens bag specifically.
"Brought you some things to help you feel better," he announced, his tone gentle and caring, making your stomach flutter. Without a word, you stepped aside, inviting him into your space.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he placed the bag and flowers on your spotless kitchen counter. The vibrant bouquet added a touch of color to the room, and you couldn't help but appreciate the gesture even though a knot of mixed emotions still clung to your heart.
"Thanks but you didn't have to do that," you said, your voice laced with genuine gratitude and a hint of reluctance. You wanted to convey your appreciation, but the complicated nature of your relationship with Travis made accepting such kindness a double-edged sword.
A scoff escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you turned away from him. If you truly held a place of significance in his life, why did he talk so casually about his potential involvement with Taylor Swift on his podcast? That single conversation had been the catalyst for all the rumors, and deep down, you couldn't completely dismiss the possibility that they might be true. After all, the two of you rarely shared the intricate details of your day-to-day lives.
His brows furrowed, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "What was that about?"
"Nothing," you mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.
He persisted, a determined note creeping into his voice. "It was clearly something."
You hesitated, the words lingering on the tip of your tongue. The turmoil of emotions within you was too tangled to unravel in this moment, but Travis deserved to know your thoughts, even if they were filled with uncertainty.
Sighing, you finally spoke, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "It doesn't matter right now."
He rounded the kitchen island, his steps purposeful as he positioned himself squarely in front of you. In a decisive move, he gently but firmly grasped your wrists, his touch demanding your full attention. "You can tell me if something's wrong," he persisted, his eyes locked onto yours, his determination unwavering.
You drew in a deep breath, your mind racing with the weight of the question that had been gnawing at you. Maybe it was best to confront it head-on, to rip off the bandage, even if it meant facing an uncomfortable truth.
"Are the rumors about you and Taylor Swift true?" The words slipped from your lips, laced with a mixture of anxiety and longing. You held your gaze steady, searching for any hint of honesty in his eyes. "Are you two talking, or dating, or anything like that?" The silence that followed your question stretched, urging you to speak again.
He sighed, releasing your wrists and rubbing his chin, his actions speaking louder than words. The lack of an immediate response told you more than you needed to know, and a wellspring of emotions surged within you.
"Seriously?" you questioned, taking a step back from him, anger seeping into your voice. "I thought you had enough respect to at least end things with me before pursuing an international superstar." You were furious, and the betrayal you felt was palpable.
When you and Travis had embarked on this arrangement, you had agreed on one fundamental rule – exclusivity. Despite the lack of a formal commitment, there was an unspoken understanding that you wouldn't be sleeping with other people, even if your connection wasn't officially labeled as a relationship.
He knew about your past, about your parents and your father's infidelity that had marred your childhood. He knew that infidelity was the one thing you despised above all else. He knew it was the reason you had been hesitant to pursue conventional relationships or believe in the concept of love.
You took a deep, steadying breath, your efforts aimed at quelling the storm of emotions inside you. "You need to go," you said, your voice firm and resolute. When he remained rooted in place, you added with an urgency, "Now."
"I'm sorry," he whispered softly, his voice laced with remorse as he retrieved his keys from the kitchen island, his footsteps carrying him toward the front door.
Your silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken disappointment, as you waited for the telltale sound of the door closing behind him. When it finally did, it was as if a dam had burst within you, and the tears flowed freely. Each tear felt like a piece of your heart breaking, and the pain was almost unbearable. You had believed Travis to be a good guy, someone different from the men you had known before. Yet, in this moment, it seemed he had let you down, just like so many others had in the past.
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strawberri-draws · 2 months
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"Innocence died screaming, Honey ask me, I should know. I slithered here from Eden; Just to sit outside your door"
-From Eden, Hozier
aka: au where they grow old in the dungeon together in their monster forms.
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