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adragonprinceswhore · 5 months ago

Text

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter V: Silver Springs 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: You think back to the tumultuous end of your marriage.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, fighting, possessive Aemond, toxic relationship dynamic, dysfunctional family dynamic, physical violence, blood, anger issues

Word count: 5700

A/N: As always, I’d like to acknowledge my love, Justine @theoneeyedprince 🩵 She’s writing a new series called Careless Whisper and it is a gem! ILY!

“You excited for the big show tonight?”

Jace’s cheery voice greets you as you enter the backstage area of Winterfell Arena. You look up from your phone and acknowledge your bandmate with a smile,

“Excited and more nauseous than I’ve ever been”, you joke, sliding your phone in your pocket.

It looks like most backstage rooms have looked so far on the tour; sparsely decorated with fold up tables and chairs. There’s an array of snacks and drinks offered, and you make your way to the refreshments next to Jace to grab some coffee.

He appears to already be wearing his stage clothes; a tight, purple silk button-down shirt that shows just enough skin to get his fans excited. Despite the curse of being the overlooked bassist, Jace has a small yet rowdy fanbase, who tend to go absolutely mental whenever he winks at them from stage. He loves the attention, and you guess today’s extra slutty outfit choice is his gift to them.

He moves to lean against the table, plastic coffee cup in hand,

“So, will you treat us to a new song tonight? I hadn’t heard ‘Dreams’ all put together before we performed it but damn, it sounded great”

You meet his eyes as you pick up the plastic cup by the small ear on the side,

“I think I’ll do ‘Dreams’, it’s the only one I feel is really finished”, you reply and take a sip.

There is another song you’ve been working tirelessly on, but you’re not sure if you feel ready to perform it.

It is one of the reasons why your album is delayed. The members have all recorded their instruments and finished the back-up, yet you haven’t submitted a final version of your vocals.

As a musician, you’re used to pouring your heart out when writing lyrics, not afraid of getting personal. And still, for some reason, this one almost feels too revealing; too intimate to sing out loud.

You have the lyrics written down, and you’ve sung them to yourself at home. But singing them on stage, with him there, feels too exposing.

Too vulnerable.

You haven’t seen Aemond since your regrettable tryst in his hotel room.

After reading through the divorce papers, you called Alysanne back up, needing help to wrap your head around the entire situation.

After a few hours of talking, she convinced you that this was for the best.

You’d gotten what you wanted.

And the mishap in Aemond’s room was, according to your best friend, nothing more than a chance to “bang one out” one last time.

“Got it”, Jace replies in his typical cheerful manner. He reaches for a small biscuit on the table and pops it into his mouth, “I’m sure your song will sound great. They always do”

His warm, brown eyes shine as he assures you of your abilities. It feels nice; how uncomplicated his praise is, and you smile back at him again, thankful to have at least one easy-going person in your band.

You continue to chat light-heartedly as you wait for the other band members to arrive.

When Jace heads outside for a smoke, you spot a familiar notebook on one of the chairs nearby.

It’s open.

Curious and foolish, you head over to see what’s written.

You glance at the paper, lyrics written by hand in impeccable handwriting. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help yourself.

‘I don’t wanna stand ‘tween you and love, honey’‘I just want you to feel fine’

Again with the self-pitying? Fucking hell, he’s relentless.

Did he want you to “feel fine” when he forbade you from attending events without him? Or when he went through your email without your permission?

‘Oh, you say you love me but you don’t know’

You put the paper back down, already feeling your mood souring.

Prick.

When you first started dating, you quickly learned that Aemond was the rock of his family.

If his brother had been arrested for drunk and disorderly behaviour, he was there.

If his mum needed someone to help organise a charity event, he was there.

If his grandfather needed him to go over a case at 3 am, he was there.

Seeing the stress of such immense pressure weigh him down, you, in turn, tried to be his rock; supporting him in any way you could.

You managed quite well. Like those times he came home late after spending 12 hours at the office, and you greeted him with a smile and a home-cooked meal, kissing his cheek.

He’d sit down and grab you by the waist as you placed the plates on the table, keeping you on his lap while you ate and discussed your days together.

When you finished eating, you’d stay like that. He’d lean into you, resting his face in the crook of your neck while he held you close, thanking you for the delicious meal.

You knew that he was thankful for what you did for him; gratitude evident in his voice and how he complimented your cooking skills. Still, there was always this sadness inside of him, a pitiful tint to his tone.

It was tough seeing how drained he got from being everything for everyone.

Aemond’s older sibling never felt the crushing pressure of being Otto Hightower’s protégée. While he worked tirelessly at Oldtown Solicitors after finishing his degree, they chose to pursue the band full-time. A privileged career choice made optional by their generous trust funds.

You took a part-time position after graduating so that you could stay in the band and write music. Aemond nearly convinced you to focus on the band full-time as well, arguing that he could provide for you if you ever needed anything. Despite the generous offer, you decided that he already had enough to deal with, and potentially adding further to his endless list of responsibilities didn’t sit right with you.

You wanted to ease his troubles, not add to them.

Consequently, when you recorded your first album, it was mostly at night, after Aemond had finished working with his grandfather. His natural talent and precision as a guitarist and singer meant that it usually only took him two or three attempts before he was satisfied with a piece.

You, on the other hand, did not find the recording process as easy.

You feel tears of frustration sting your eyes as you step out of the sound booth. Helaena, Aegon and Jace had already gone home, drained from a full day of recording.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”, Aemond asks when he sees the way the corners of your lips pull downward.

You let out a shaky breath to gather yourself, swallowing in an attempt to make the lump in your throat disappear,

“I can’t do it, it just-, it sounds like shit no matter how many times I-”, you mumble, cutting yourself off as you try to take another deep breath, determined not to cry.

You feel silly, getting so upset over something so nonsensical. Still, being unable to deliver in the way you’d like has left you feeling powerless over your own voice, like you can’t control it.

Aemond stands up from his seat by the mixing table and slowly makes his way towards you. He moves one of his hands to cup your cheek and looks down to make eye contact with you,

“Don’t say that”

His voice is soft as his thumb gently strokes your cheek, “It’s late and you’re tired, it’s okay to need a break. But never doubt yourself, love”.

He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead and you crave his touch like nothing else, pushing yourself against his body as your arms hug his waist. He hugs you back, one hand stroking your hair, and you instantly feel the lump in your throat melt away.

The tears that had threatened to spill, never do.

He makes it all go away.

The blood, sweat and tears you’d put into creating your first ever album as Dragon Dreamers proved to be worth it. Suddenly, your songs play on the radio and are featured on major playlists, where thousands of people can listen to them.

The success instigated both you and Aemond quitting your jobs and focusing on the band full time together with Helaena, Aegon and Jace. You were certain that leaving Oldtown Solicitors and creating some distance with his grandfather would be good for Aemond, maybe even pushing him to open up to you more.

He had a tendency of shutting you out, particularly when he was clearly distressed by something. He refused to even acknowledge some things, like he wanted to spare you from it. Yet all his secrecy did was make you feel lonely; like a stranger your beloved did not trust enough to let in. Every time he dismissed your concerns and refused to speak about what was upsetting him, another crack appeared on your weary heart.

During the first year of your relationship you’d been under the impression that you and Aemond shared a connection so innate and deep, you didn’t need to discuss things like other couples did.

You were able to understand each other wordlessly.

And though there was truth in that assumption, time made you realise that Aemond’s inability to open up slowly tore a cavernous rift between the two of you.

Music blasts out of the speakers in the crowded bar, making it hard for you to hear Tyland as he introduces you to one of his colleagues.

It’s a man around 30, with a slightly crooked smile and long, dark hair pulled back in a bun.

You move closer to hear what he’s saying, nodding along to his explanation of what next for your band.

“We’d like to make a music video for one of your songs, maybe featuring a live performance?”, he asks and you feel yourself light up at the thought. A bright smile breaks out over your face, revealing your approval of his proposal.

“That would be amazing!”

You nearly have to shout for him to hear you over the ruckus in the bar, and you lean in a little closer.

“Have you ever considered doing some solo stuff? On the side, of course”, he asks, grey eyes locked with yours.

You open your mouth to answer, but before you have a chance you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, stopping you,

“She wouldn’t have time for that”

Aemond’s firm voice answers right behind you. You didn’t see him come up, and you can hear the irritation in his voice. A quiet sigh leaves your lips, dreading what’s to come.

The man Tyland had introduced you to appears a bit stunned by the sudden shift in atmosphere, and offers you both an awkward smile and stiff nod before heading to the bar counter.

You turn to face Aemond, whose face is set in a frown,

“What was that about?”, he asks and you feel irate frustration bubble up inside your chest.

This is not the first time he’s taken the liberty of answering for you, or scaring away anyone who dared approach you.

“Nothing”, you reply before walking around Aemond, moving towards the door.

You need air, your husband’s presence suffocating you.

You step outside and spot Jace, leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“You don’t happen to have one more?”

He pulls out the pack together with his lighter and opens it for you in an invitation to steal one.

You place the cigarette between your lips, mumble out “thanks”, and light it up.

You take a drag, let the smoke fill your lungs, and you close your eyes.

The nicotine gives you a slight high and your fingertips tingle pleasantly.

“Give us a minute, Jace”

Aemond’s voice interrupts your serenity, and your companion leaves without a word of protest.

You open your eyes to look at Aemond. You know he’s upset about what had just happened, but there is something else that he’s not telling you.

Behind the angry facade, he seems sad.

Or insecure?

It is hard to decipher when he so persistently tries to push those feelings down.

He doesn’t say anything. His hand seeks out yours to grab the cigarette and he takes a long drag before handing it back to you. You wish he’d just talk to you. Tell you what makes him act so hostile towards those around you.

Towards you.

It makes you anxious; the uncertainty. Not knowing what’s going on inside.

Aemond breaks the silence.,

“So, you really want to leave the band?”

You click your tongue in frustration and throw the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it until the bud stops glowing,

“When have I ever said that?”

“You sure seemed happy when that scumbag wanted to steal you away”, he says and moves to lean against the wall next to you.

“Aemond”, you sigh, looking up to meet his eyes. He is so hard to read it infuriates you.

You know there is no point in fighting. It’s like his mind is set on distrusting you; of thinking the worst of you.

“Every time you act like this, you break my heart. It's like you don’t trust me in the slightest”, you say in a helplessly defeated voice,

“That hurts, you know”

As Aemond got more and more possessive over you, he also kept you further and further away from himself.

Sometimes you wondered if he actually hated you.

Why else would you cause his ire to light up so fiercely?

Whenever someone approached you, he was there, looming over you.

Guarding you.

Like you were his, and no one else was allowed near.

No matter how many times you asked him to stop, he wouldn’t listen.

Instead, after you found yourselves in a fight, something that had become a weekly occurrence, he’d head out without a word, leaving you alone in your shared home.

He could be gone for hours, leaving his phone behind so you couldn’t contact him. It felt like torture, waiting for him to come back without any knowledge of what he was up to, or if he was okay.

When he eventually came back and you confronted him about his behaviour, he dismissed your concerns, telling you that he just needed to “clear his head”.

Everything about the situation felt unfair.

Not just the fact that he opted for running away instead of talking to you, but also because you knew he’d be livid if you decided to suddenly leave in the middle of the night.

After a year of meaningless fights, petty arguments and baseless accusations, you came to the realisation that you couldn’t be his rock anymore. And he’d stopped being yours long ago.

Before the success of the band, you could provide him with reassurance and love.

Now, it seemed like he’d made you the enemy, suspicious of everything you did, set on distrusting you.

Staying with him, loving him, felt like too great of a challenge.

And maybe it was.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you put on just a little more lipstick before tossing it in your handbag and walking out of the bathroom. You’d ordered a taxi for six o’clock, and it should arrive any minute now.

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

Aemond’s harsh voice echoes in the quiet room.

He’s leaning against the kitchen island in the middle of your open-plan flat. You feel the all too familiar pit of anxiety form in your stomach at his tone.

He’s irritated again.

He holds your phone up so that you can see the screen, an email from Tyland.

He’d contacted you earlier today about an opportunity for you to do a photoshoot and interview at Casterly Rock to promote the band's biggest hit yet, Landslide.

Your eyes narrow as you look at Aemond,

“Don’t go through my emails”

“Tyland wrote that he’s already booked you a ticket. You have to run that by me first”, he continues in a stern voice.

As if he’s lecturing a child on bad behaviour.

You stay silent, move to the sink to pick up a glass and fill it with water. You try to distract yourself enough to breathe, anger already making you feel hot all over.

“It was a last minute decision, it’s only 2 nights next week”, you explain through clenched teeth.

You really don’t want to get into a fight right before a show, and had already decided to tell Aemond after instead. Somewhere inside, you knew he wouldn’t be happy.

“Were you not going to give me the courtesy of letting me know that you’re leaving?”

“I was going to tell you after the show”

Your body is still facing the sink so you won’t have to face him.

You can’t decide if you’re more angry with him for trying to control you, or saddened by the fact that he doesn’t trust you.

“You should’ve told me imm-”

“Aemond, you don’t own me. Stop acting like I’m your possession!”

Your irksome voice cuts him off. His still trying to keep his cool, tone refusing to match your intensity as he answers,

“But I am your husband”

“It’s just two nights away. I’ll be with Tyland the entire time”, you say, softening your tone to not trigger him further.

“Out of the question. You’re not going”, he replies stoicly and places your phone back on the kitchen island before standing up.

“That’s not for you to decide!”

Your previous attempt to remain calm fails. You almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all; being denied a business trip by your husband like he’s your guardian.

“Yes, because we’re a team! I’d never fucking run away without you”, Aemond spits, clearly as incapable of keeping a level head as you are.

“It’s two nights away to promote the band. I’m not “running away”, you clarify and turn to face him.

You can see how exasperated he is by his stiff posture and the hard look in his seeing eye. He tries so hard to hide it, and yet you always manage to see through the facade.

“It’s good publicity”, you say.

“I said no”, is all he replies before he moves to the sideboard by the door, picking up the keys placed in a small dish resting on the polished surface.

You feel your face heat up in anger at his dismissal of your words; of your agency.

How dare he think he can dictate your life?

“Well, I don’t need your fucking permission!”, you shout back at him,

“If I want to fly to Casterly Rock, or any other fucking place, I will! You can’t stop me from doing anything, Aemond. I’ll fly to fucking Yi Ti if I so wish! You can’t-”

Your rant is cut off by a sudden loud crash by the wall next to you.

The remnants of the dish where you kept your house keys lies in shambles on the floor next to you. Your wide eyes look down at the plate's remainders in disbelief before travelling towards Aemond.

It’s like both of you are frozen in shock from his actions. His recovery seems to be quicker than yours, regret clear on his face and in his voice,

“Shit. Fuck! Sorry, I’m so sorry”

He rambles apologies in panic, clearly stunned by his own action. He tries to shuffle closer to you, but you recoil as soon as he comes near.

The shock of his action and the loud sound that accompanied it triggers something inside you, and you immediately feel tears well up in your eyes.

You feel like a child; startled and scared.

“Fuck. Sorry for scaring you, love”

His voice is much softer than mere seconds ago. Pleading.

Aemond brings his hands up slightly, a sign of surrender, and moves closer to comfort you.

You wince and back away from him, eyes still widened in disbelief.

“I’d never hurt you”, he tries to assure you.

You still can’t fully comprehend what had just happened,

“How the fuck am I supposed to believe that?”

Aemond opens his mouth to answer just as the intercom rings, signalling that the taxi is waiting downstairs.

You try to gather yourself somewhat and take a deep breath before moving to grab your bag and jacket from the hallway.

Aemond’s pitiful expression observes you, and you tell him, “When we get back, we need to talk about this. About us. I can’t take this any more”

The taxi ride to the venue is excruciating.

Aemond hasn’t said a word, but his fingers are tapping restlessly against his thigh, something you’d learned to be one of his most prominent nervous habits.

In the corner of your eye, you can see how his gaze repeatedly seeks out yours, but you refuse to look at him.

He reaches out to lightly touch your fingers, but you move away from his touch,

“I-, I don’t know what came over me, love. I am so sorry for scaring you, I promise it will never happen again”

You’re too tired to respond, and stubbornly continue to watch the city pass by through the car window.

When the cab pulls up to the live house, you can still feel the tears of shock drying on your cheeks. You thank the driver and step out of the car, before entering the backstage area.

The small room you’d been assigned to prepare in smells musky and the lights are toned down.

Helaena is nowhere to be found, but you immediately notice Jace’s brown locks in the corner of the room, seated in an armchair with his base in his lap.

On the large, brown leather sofa placed in the middle of the room sits a slouching young man with ruffled, silvery hair and purple bags under his eyes. He lights up when he sees you enter, voice slightly slurred,

“There she is! King’s Landing’s new little, uh-, fucking-, romantic, sexy sweetheart!”, Aegon drunkenly declares, smiling from ear to ear,

“Charming everyone with her sad songs”

“Hi Aegon, are you okay?”, you ask gently.

You try as hard as you can to hide the fact that you’re disappointed in seeing him so clearly intoxicated.

You know he has problems with alcohol, and despite a recent trip to rehab, he hasn’t gotten much better.

“I am, now that you’re here”, he replies with a sloppy wink.

You move towards the small fridge by the wall of the cramped room, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to him without saying a word.

He brings the bottle up in a mock cheer before opening it and taking a large sip, possibly to show you, and Aemond, that he isn’t as drunk as you assume he is.

“Always so fucking sweet to me”, he smiles at you, “Mondo, you’re a lucky guy, you know”, he addresses his brother, who’s leaning against the door, clearly displeased with the fact that Aegon hadn’t been capable of waiting until after the show before he got shit-faced.

The hostility between the brothers is clearly one-sided as the older Targaryen continues,

“I just saw the most unhinged shit online man! Some fans were discussing what her favourite position is”, he laughs out as he addresses his brother. Aemond’s face is stoic, but you can see the tension in his jaw as he fixes his eye on Aegon.

“Is it true, baby? Is it really doggy?”, he asks as his eyes shift from Aemond to you.

You’d gotten more or less used to how lewd your brother-in-law could get when he’s drunk. But being asked something so crass after the day you’d had only leaves you feeling disgusted.

“Knock it off”, Aemond’s stern voice cuts through the cramped space.

You notice Jace shifting uncomfortably in his seat, picking up the pack of cigarettes in front of him on the coffee table before standing up and heading out of the door.

You wish you could run away as well, but the tension radiating from Aemond tells you to stay put.

“Oh, come on, it’s all in good fun! I’d die to have a girlfriend with tits like that”

Whatever game Aegon thinks he’s playing with his brother is clearly one-sided. Aemond quickly jerks his head to the side to look at his brother, seeing eye darting at a speed that his blind eye’s incapable of.

“Uh oh! Eyes going two different directions!”, Aegon says with a laugh, crossing his eyes to mock Aemond,

“Can Lazy Eye look you in the face when he’s fucking you?”, he asks and he turns to you, eyes still meeting over the bridge of his nose.

“Seriously, Aegon, knock it off”, you plea.

He can turn so fucking mean when he’s drunk, hiding his own displeasure with life behind jabs at his brother.

He continues to laugh when he adds,

“One eye on your face and one on your tits? A pity he can’t see through it”.

Before you have a chance to reply, Aemond lunges forward, fist held high as he smashes it against his brother's face. Aegon keeps laughing even as blood spills from his nose, staining Aemond’s hand going in for blow after blow.

You’re frozen for a millisecond before you start to yell at him to stop, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you.

Neither does he hear his older brother’s laughs turn to grunts of pain as he begins to sober up under Aemond’s assault.

You see Aegon’s face turn slack, eyes fluttering shut like he’s going out of consciousness. Aemond continues to land punch after punch on his brother’s face and you feel panic rush inside of you.

You throw yourself on Aemonds back in an attempt to pull him away. He’s inaccessible, not listening to your desperate pleas for him to stop.

Drops of blood are flying in front of you, landing on the worn leather sofa underneath Aegon. Your arms encircle Aemond’s shoulders as you try to pull him off of his brother with all your might.

He tries to shrug you off, but as he goes in for the next hit, his elbow accidentally retracts against the side of your body, making harsh contact with your ribs.

You wail out in pain and Aemond immediately stops his assault on his brother to turn around and look at you in panicked worry.

Your body’s folded over the coffee table next to the sofa, hand placed over the spot that's hurting on the side of your stomach.

He moves away from Aegon to make his way towards you, but you back away from him by reflex, suddenly too aware of how dangerous his temperament can be.

You hurry up on your feet to quickly leave the backstage area, Aemond’s strained voice calling out your name behind you.

He’s fucking lost it.

Thinking back to everything that led up to your divorce leaves you feeling a mix of emotions, misery being the most prominent one.

This is supposed to be the highlight of your career; the band’s biggest show yet.

You don’t want to feel like this; a constant state of being filled with sorrow.

You want to enjoy performing again.

You can hear the crowd call for you to come out on stage, and you feel nerves ebbing through your veins in anxious waves.

“Aemond wanted to perform ‘Never Going Back Again’ as the first part of the encore later on”, Helaena says and looks at you. You feel even more restless.

“And I thought maybe you have another new song to sing? Maybe the one you sent me a recording of?”

Her hand comes up to rest reassuringly on your upper arm. You know which one she means, even if she doesn’t say anything else. The song.

“I told the guys it’s called ‘Silver Springs’, they’ll know which one it is from recording. I know we haven’t practised it together but Dreams was such a hit with the fans, I’m sure they’ll love this one too”, she says and smiles gently in that way only she’s capable of.

The thought of Aemond performing ‘Never Going Back Again’, on top of singing ‘The Chain’ and ‘Go Your Own Way’, lights a fuse inside of you.

You look over at him,

“Okay”

This is it.

The stage, vast and intimidating, seems to close in as the intro to ‘Silver Springs’ starts to play.

You have no idea if Aemond had listened to the voice recordings for the song.

You asked Helaena to do backup vocals instead of him on the track, hoping that would make the song feel less of a testament to your heartbreak.

‘You could be my silver spring’

‘Blue-green, colours flashing’

‘I would be your only dream’

‘Your shining autumn, ocean crashing’

What if he had read the lyrics?

Had he pondered them weeks after, dreading to hear you sing them on stage?

‘And don’t say that she’s pretty’

‘And did you say that she loved you?’

‘Baby I don’t wanna know’

Had he even cared?

Your longing gets the best of you, and you glance over at Aemond.

‘So I begin not to love you’

‘Turn around, see me runnin’’

‘I say “I loved you years ago”’

‘Tell myself you’d never loved me’

His face is stoic; good eye already observing you.

He might look calm to the audience, but you can see the tension in his jaw. You see how he’s breathing heavily out of his nose.

His grip on the guitar seems bruising, fingers moving skillfully; never making a mistake.

You quickly look away.

Why do you suddenly find him so intimidating?

‘And don’t say that she’s pretty’

‘And did you say that she loves you?’

‘Baby, I don’t wanna know’

‘And can you tell me, was it worth it?’

‘Baby, I don’t wanna know’

Your own lyrics prickle your heart.

Do you tell yourself he never loved you because that’d be easier?

What if it was true, that he never really loved you?

He’d been possessive over you. And he’d been controlling. But that’s not love.

Loving someone means you care for their well-being and happiness, over anything else.

You know he loves Alicent and Helaena. He treats them differently from how he’s been with you; he was so much gentler with them.

Picking fights with you over nothing, controlling your life and not letting you be happy, that's not love.

Worst of all, he doesn’t act like that with Alys.

Does he love her?

‘Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me’

‘I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me’

You think back to how your relationship once was.

When he was your biggest supporter, erasing any doubts you had about your own talent. Always reassuring you that you were worthy.

That man is not the one sharing a stage with you now.

The sorrow over losing your beloved husband turns to anger, and you need him to know.

He needs to see how much he hurt you.

‘Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me’

You can’t look away, not even when tears start forming in the corners of your eyes.

Aemond’s seeing eye looks so dead; completely void of emotion. His knuckles are white from the force in which he’s holding his guitar.

‘I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me’

Every emotion you’ve tried to suppress comes crashing over you;

Anger.

Hurt.

Betrayal.

Grief.

But you won’t let him win. You can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you broken.

You feel a tear escape down your cheek, but you refuse to look away from his face as you keep singing,

‘I’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice can haunt you’

‘Oh, give it just a chance’

‘You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you’

Despite standing in front of thousands of people, despite what happened in his hotel room, this feels like the most intimate exchange you’ve had in months. You want him to see how much he hurt you.

You want him to feel bad.

To hurt too.

‘Was I such a fool?’

‘I’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice can haunt you’

Your voice almost breaks from the sheer force of the emotions pouring out of you, but you manage, singing with nothing but raw emotion and sorrow-fuelled rage. More tears slide down your cheeks.

‘Oh, give it just a chance’

‘You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you’

‘Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me’

‘I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me’

You finish up the concert on auto-pilot, not really present anymore. As soon as you finish playing The Chain, you make your way back to the hotel.

You throw the door to your room open, kick off your shoes, and dive into the back of the closet where you store your clothes.

You pull out Aemond’s university hoodie from the black bin bag you’d tossed it in, anger consuming you just by the sight of it.

Fuck him.

You look around the hotel room for something sharp; a pair of scissors, a wine opener, a fork, anything. You spot the small pair of scissors you use to trim your nails with on the nightstand and grab them before stabbing one of the tiny blades into the soft material of the hoodie.

Fuck him.

Your vision turns blurry as tears well up in your eyes for the second time this evening, but the tiny bit of relief you feel from ruining something of Aemond’s is intoxicating.

You put your fingers through the small holes you’d made in the fabric and pull with all your strength, ripping the shirt over and over until it’s nothing but a pile of scraps of fabric.

Fuck him.

A/N: Thank you for readig! 🫶

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Dirty Work 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Outta left field.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The brick facade stares back at you. You have to keep from gaping in awe. You're not a sightseer, you're there to work. A job. Your first ever. A bit late, but better than never.

You stop at the gate and hike up your kit as you shove your hand in your pocket in a cramped search. You slide out the flip phone and pop the top, clicking through for the email. The cheap burner is all you could afford and you needed a cell to get any sort of employment. Even just to live, it seems.

You click on the agency's email. A concise list of instructions for your first day. Alone. Last week, you shadowed a woman named Florence as she took you through an east-side home, but this week, you're on your own and uptown. The property is much nicer than any you've been in before. The sort you gaze at longingly in passing. A true urban palace.

You follow the first point on the list, keying in the code awkwardly with spaced-out punches. The last beep triggers a buzz as the mechanism releases and you turn the haandle to let yourself through the iron gate. You close it, pushing it to make sure it catches. You look around at the greenery; expertly trimmed hedges and a stone bench, flowerbeds clustered artfully in all shades. A mini Versailles in the heart of the city. The owners must be very well-off.

You gulp as you follow the stonework of the winding path along the curved driveway. Your shoulder aches from the weight of your kit and your spine is still rigid from the tense bus ride. You approach the front door and stagger to an awkward halt as you check the screen again. In all caps; DO NOT USE THE FRONT DOOR. You peer up over the stone steps and give a nod. Of course the help should go through the back.

You circle around to the rear of the house, the scent of pollen and the freshly groomed hedges clouding around you. You find the door nestled beneath a net of ivy and key in the next code. The very modern security contrasts the antique veneer of the house. You step into the silence of the grand home and listen. You're not sure if you're alone. What do you do if you aren't? It might be awkward to wash someone's floor without an introduction.

You move to the next directive; cover shoes. You squint and suck your lower lip in. You see the small box on the corner table tucked beside the door. You stay on the mat as you pull on the plastic shoe covers. It makes sense. You don't want to track in another mess to clean.

Again, your breath flies away from you. Even just the back hallway is divine, or maybe you're just brutish. You're not very hard to impress with what you're used to. A job won't cure it, but it'll make it bearable.

The next point; gloves. Okay. At least it's straightforward. The owners must be very particular. Or germaphobic. You let your assumptions write a story as you advance into the house. The email directs you to a closet where you are permitted to hang your things and where a mop, broom, and vacuum await you amid other supplies too big for your bag. Next point…

You proceed inside, slowly. The instructions are written almost to guide your every step. You move down the hallway with duster, broom, vacuum, and finally the mop. You're sweating by the time you get to the first doorway. The kitchen. Despite your employ, the place is already near immaculate. The only sign of life is a single black mug beside the sink.

It's eerie as you cross the tile, investigating with your eyes, almost too afraid to touch. You're going to have to if you mean to do good work. You continue down the list, doing your best to be thorough. When you return to the hall you're caught in place by a thought. There are no family pictures. It adds to the emptiness of it all. There are portraits of famous landmarks and imitations of reknowned artworks, though you wouldn't be surprised if they were genuine. But no family.

Next point. A bathroom just diagonal from the kitchen, spacious with dark wood and shining gold. You leave it smelling with the sterile scent of the cleaner. Back in the hall, you pause to drink from the water bottle in your bag. You head back down the hall intent on your next task. An hour already.

Another large room; a dining room that opens into a sitting room with a large fireplace. It really is amazing. Your father won't believe how nice it is here. You don't have time to worry about convincing him as you dive into your work. It isn't difficult work but you want to do a good job. You get this knot in your stomach just think of your boss, Clara, telling you otherwise or going home with bad news.

You finish the sitting room and go back to get your water. You nearly finish it. You check the time again, then the list. You can refill before you continue. You go back to the kitchen and cross to the fridge, pressing your bottle to the lever beneath the filter. It'd be nice to have something like that at home. You listen the hum of the fridge as you fill your bottle.

"Ahem," the clearing of a throat startles you and you jump, splashing yourself with cold water as you spin to face a tall man. He stares at you imperiously from the doorway, his figure lithe as he holds his chin up in dissatisfaction. "And who said you could do that?"

"Um," you swallow and look at your water bottle, fingers numbed by the water, "sorry, sir, I ran out--"

"Clean up your mess and get back to work," his lilted accent slices into you.

"Sorry, sir--"

"Bullet number one, A," he says tersely.

You frown as you struggle to understand. You replace the cap on your bottle and fish in the pocket of your black pants. You take out the phone and check the email. 'Do not speak unless permitted.' Well, he spoke to you first. It's the only reason you said anything. You're not very chatty yourself.

You keep from repeating sorry again and dip your head down. You take the cloth tucked into your pocket and bend to sop up the water from the floor. You don't look at him as he looms and you exit the room, sidling past him in shame. Oh no, you hope he doesn't tell Clara.

You replace your bottle in your bag. You'll go without. You look at your phone again. You can do this. No more mistakes.

You march back down the hall and dare a glance into the kitchen as you pass. He's already gone. That must be Mr. Laufeyson, the owner noted in the job description. Is it just him? He doesn't seem very fond of others. Or just you. You're just a maid, after all.

🧹

Your father's apartment is in the south. The fence is crooked and missing slats and the grass is patchy and yellowed. The porch groans as you climb the steps and let yourself into his side of the duplex. Cigarette smoke greets you with a cough in your throat. You open the window he shut in your absence as the TV blares in the next room. He's on the couch, puffing tobacco into the air in gray swirls. The place is even grimmer after a day amid your client's spotless halls.

"Hey dad," you say as you stand just beside the couch, "how was your day?"

He grunts and offers nothing else. That's about what you get from him. The effort of just that noise sends him to hack and his wrist tangles in his oxygen tube as brings his hand up. He knocks ash from the end of his cigarette onto the floor.

"First day alone went well," you say as he settles, breathing loudly as he tries to steady his breaths. "Think I did pretty good."

"Oh, big whoop, got a job, at last," he sneers, "about time. What're you? Thirty-three?"

"Thirty," you correct him, but don't add that your birthday is coming up.

"Same difference," he croaks and sucks on the smoke until he's coughing once more.

You try not to let him defeat you. It's just the way he is. You brought home A's from school and he wondered why they weren't A+'s. And when you got accepted to college, he asked you who was gonna pay for it. And when you filled out an application at the drive-thru window, he asked you if you were going to be another deadbeat flipping burgers.

"What, they got you scrubbing floors?" He spits, "you don't do it for free or something?"

He looks around venomously. You do clean but you can't get the yellow stains out of the wall or the stench out of the carpet. You won't say so.

"Did you eat yet?"

"Can't be near the stove with this thing," he taps the top of the tank on the other side of the armrest. He's also not supposed to smoke near it. Or at all.

"I'll heat up the hamburger helper from last night."

"Fucking dog food," he barks.

You wince. You love your father but he's a very picky man. Things must be his way or no way at all.

"Might have a frozen pizza," you suggest.

"Cardboard," he mutters.

You stand, silent and helpless. There isn't much else left in the fridge.

"Could afford better if you'd got your ass up ten years ago," he buts out his smoke and just as quickly, opens the pack to slide out another.

"I tried..."

"Not hard enough, eh," He takes off the oxygen tube and leans away from the tank to light the next cigarette, "not hungry. All your talkin' spoiled my appetite."

You apologise and leave before you can annoy him further. You're not very hungry either. Just sore and tired. Your feet hurt from being on them all day and your eyelids droop lower with each blink. You climb the stairs and drag your feet into your bedroom and shut the door gently. Your father hates when you slam. You don't like it much yourself.

You fall into bed as the musty air clings in your nose. You close your eyes and roll onto your side. You sigh. You figure if you can handle your father, you can handle Mr. Laufeyson and his list.

🧹

Your next job is in the eastside. It's not as precise or overbearing. The instructions are standard; a list of the rooms that need cleaning and a tip left on the counter. The email says the family is out of town. How nice it must be to come home to a nice, clean house. You pad out the three-day week with two more home in the northwest suburbs. The money would be better if you could work a full week but so long on you're in your probation period, you only get part-time hours.

Your second week starts again in the north, outside the Laufeyson property. The codes are different but the list is the same. You begin your work diligently. This time, you ration your water, and pay special attention to each step. Once you're through this week, you get your first check. Dad should be happy about that.

As you get to the front room, a living room or what some might call den, you set first to dusting the ornaments on the high mantel. You find the more you do it, the work is almost soothing. It's simple and mindless. You admire the silver candlestick, careful not to loosen the tall candle placed in it.

"Shiny," the slither frightens you. You quickly replace the candlestick at the corner of the mantle and face that man; the presumed Mr. Laufeyson. "Somehow, I feel it wouldn't belong in wherever you call home."

You lower your eyes. Florence says most clients are friends but she warned you about these ones. Those who deride you and the work they don't want to do themselves.

"The previous one did think they were lovely," he muses as he struts forward, his long steps like a cat's, "too bad they were too big for her bag."

You flick your gaze back up and blanch. "Sir, I wouldn't--"

He tilts his head as his eyes flash dangerously. You snap your mouth shut and give an apologetic frown. You press a finger to your lips to say, I'll be quiet.

"She was chatty too. You girls always are."

You nod and listen. Your throat constricts as you wring the cloth in your hands. You think you might not be very forgiving if someone tried to steal from you either.

"But..." he looks at his watch, "you are quick."

The comment drips from his mouth as if it tastes bitter to him. It isn't quite praise, only a fact, but it isn't a reproach. He smirks and snickers.

"And you do look rather terrified. We're understood then."

You give another nod. You think you understand. You wouldn't think to steal but you can't blame him for putting down rules. You squint and your brow twitches as your ears tinge.

"Point one C," you whisper to yourself; 'Do not steal.'

He pauses as he goes to pivot on his heel. He lifts his chin and shifts as if he might look at you. He doesn't as he carries on to the door.

"You may refill your bottle once per shift," he pauses by the door, tapping the frame before he leaves you.

You stay stuck to the floor, wavering as you watch him go. He wasn't nice, but he didn't dismiss you either. You can stomach his disapproval if it means you still have work.

#loki #dar loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #marvel #avengers #thor

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goldenroutledge · 2 years ago

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next to you

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x reader

word count ⤜ 1.1k

summary ⤜ mornings with your husband, rafe.

warning(s) ⤜ this work contains a MAJOR season three spoiler! but other than that just fluff? might be on the hurt/comfort side just a smidge

a/n ⤜ he looks so BOYFRIEND in this outfit! i’ve been having so much writer’s block i haven’t written in a year at least, but my babygirl mila @msgorillagripcoochie inspired me with this idea <3 this isn’t canon rafe btw literally none of my work is canon compliant

rafe cameron masterlist

Steam fogged the mirrors of the en-suite bathroom, slowly dissipating with the cooler air being let in from the bedroom. White towel hanging around his hips, Rafe sat at the edge of the bed you shared, staring down the vast space of the walk-in closet.

Fidgeting with the ring on his finger, nerves coursed through his body, and it was in times like these that he remembered the days of drinking scotch before 11am. But that was a thing of the past, he reminded himself just as quickly as the thought popped into his mind.

Today he was meeting with an old teacher from his alma mater, who grew to be one of his favorites. Probably his only favorite.

Rafe was never a scholar or anything, something Ward didn’t allow him to forget. He just learned differently, from someone like Sarah who could barely show up to school three times a week and still pass every exam.

It wasn’t until Rafe found himself with a 67% in his social studies class and less than a month left in the semester to turn his grade around that he was forced to attend office hours.

The first day was embarrassing. He felt like an idiot in the first place, seeing as his horrible grades pretty much spoke for themselves. But even more so now that he had to stay longer at school because he was an idiot.

Rafe stayed silent for the most part. Letting the professor do most of the talking, letting him know which assignments and topics he needed to perform well on to end the class with a passing grade.

It wasn’t until that Friday, his professor knocked some sense into him.

« “You know you’ll never learn anything if you don’t ask questions, right?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, tired of sitting prisoner in the chair of his teacher’s office. “What do you want me to ask?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t have questions.” He lied unconvincingly.

“Every time I teach you, Rafe, I can see the gears turning in your head. You’re a smart kid. But I can’t help you excel if you don’t engage. I get it, alright. I felt stupid asking a bunch of questions in front of everyone in school too but I need you to be receptive. Help me help you, Mr. Cameron.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay. We can start with assigning you a peer tutor.”

Rafe wanted to laugh. Or cry, he wasn’t sure. The whole thing was just ridiculous to him at this point.

“She’ll be someone you can talk with about the material, ask questions to, someone you can trust to help you get back on track. Are you familiar with Y/n Y/ln?” »

Little did he know, Mr. Murphy would be getting the boot by the school board. Something about budget cuts, as if the kook parents of the island didn’t give enough donations to the school to keep the water fountains at a perfectly cold temperature.

Not because their books were falling apart or because their desks were chipping. Because people are selfish, and the new headmistress of the academy felt like the money could be better spent remodeling her office. It was laughable, really.

Today, that professor was back on the island, and reached out to Rafe to meet with him following the news of Ward’s death. Not that he mentioned that specifically in his email, though it was mostly implied that he’d wanted to check up on Rafe after everything.

And with all the questions he’d probably be asked today during this lunch with his old mentor, all he could ponder over was what he was going to wear. Perhaps it was a method of procrastination, to get his mind off of everything else.

Rafe sighed. “Y/n?”

At hearing his voice echoing through the house, you slid your bookmark in between the pages and followed his voice upstairs into your shared bedroom.

“You called?”

“I need your help.”

Your eyebrows raised involuntarily at the sight before you; no matter how many times you’d seen Rafe almost naked (and actually naked), he never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Help getting dressed?”

He nods, confirming that you’re always good at reading his mind. “Dress me, please?”

You chuckled, pulling some articles of clothing from the hangers and drawers. It was just lunch, so it wasn’t like he needed anything too business-y. His striped blue and orange shirt had always been one of your favorites, though he seemed to look good in almost anything.

You threw a pair of boxers over to him, keeping your back turned as you still rummaged through the closet. No matter how irresistible he was, there wasn’t any time for funny business this morning.

“There’s no need to be nervous, y’know. Mr. Murphy has always liked you.”

How do you always know what he’s thinking, damnit. “Yeah. I guess.”

He pulled the striped shirt over his head while you found pants for him to wear.

“Just don’t want him to think I’m still the same loser I was back then.”

“You’ve never been a loser, Rafe.”

“Maybe not in your eyes.” His lips stretched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He put on the pants you picked for him, sitting back down to look up at you.

“Definitely not in my eyes.”

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer so his head rested on your stomach. The tips of your fingernails lightly scratched the back of his neck as you embraced.

“Do you remember the science fair? Freshman year?”

Rafe hummed in response. “Ward thought it was stupid. I asked him to come and he didn’t. Said he would be too embarrassed when I lost.”

“And then what happened? You won the whole damn thing.”

“I won the whole damn thing.” He smiled against your skin, repeating your words softly.

“You’ve never been a loser.”

Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his thighs, and gave him a sweet kiss.

“You’ve already accomplished so much.” You affirmed, reminding him of the businesses he had taken over since Ward died. Still, Rafe was unsure if he could rise to the occasion.

You took the ends of his jeans and cuffed them, knowing he’s terrible at doing it himself. They always come out uneven. And conveniently enough, he likes spending these quiet moments together. Neither of you would trade them for anything.

“I married you.” He cooed, taking your left hand in his and letting his thumb glide across the ring on your finger. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

“That it was.” You cheesed, letting him pull you up to straddle him. “Next time you think you’re not accomplished, Rafey…” You peppered soft kisses to his jawline. “Remember that you’ve got me.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @babeyglo @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + rafe cameron taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @chrisevansfuturewife @drewstarkeysbitchh @littlementalpolaroids @destourtereaux @kookkyra @iammirrorball

it’s been a while since i’ve posted writing so if anyone wants to be removed from/added to the taglist please don’t hesitate to let me know! 💌

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #outer banks fic

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samaraannhan20 · 1 year ago

Text

Spencer Reid Imagine: You Have an Audience

A/N: I tried to make this timeline accurate, but after a while I realized it wasn’t and I didn’t want to change it, so just know that this does not necessarily fit the timeline of the show. In my head I was envisioning season 8 Spencer.

“Hey hun?” I call out from the bathroom where I am standing in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Spencer is right out the door in the bedroom, and I hear him close his book and get up to come walk to where I am. When he reaches the doorway he stops.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I don’t have work on Friday. I could bring you lunch that day,” I tell him, turning to him as I put moisturizer on.

“You want to risk your dad finding out if you come in?” he asks, with concern written on his face.

“I swear he said something about not being at work the other day,” I say, pausing and grabbing my tooth brush while thinking back on my conversations with my dad the last few days. He kisses the top of my head and then goes back to the bed to lay down and read his book. As I stand there scrubbing my teeth I realize what he had said.

“Mhe faid bhe las la pate hat ay!” I exclaim, rushing into the bedroom with my toothbrush hanging from my mouth. Spencer drops his book and laughs as he looks at me standing there looking like a madman.

“What?” he asks when he stops laughing. I hold my finger up and walk into the bathroom, rinse my mouth out, shut off the light, and go lay down in the bed. I curl up next to Spencer before repeating my sentence.

“He said he has a date with Krystall that day at lunch, so he shouldn’t be in the office when I bring you lunch. But I can call Penny tomorrow to double check,” I say, before closing his book and taking it from him, tossing it onto my night stand. “Let’s go to bed though. I have a full day tomorrow, after having parent-teacher conferences at the beginning of the week.”

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

I shove a bite of leftovers in my mouth as I pick up the phone and call Penny

“Hey Pen!” I say as Penny picks up the call.

“Hey little Rossi! What’s up?”

“Do you know if my dad is going to be at the BAU during lunch tomorrow? I was wanting to bring Spence lunch because I don’t have school, but I want to make sure my dad won’t be there.”

“Y/N! You guys still haven’t told him?” she questions.

“No. We decided the other day that we were going to tell him after our six months next week. We never doubted that we would stay together, but we wanted to be able to show it was serious before we told him. Because if we had just gotten together when we told him… well,.”

“He’d lose his cool and make you break up. Right,” she replies with a small chuckle.

“Yeah. So, he told me he would be on a date at lunch tomorrow, but before I commit to bringing Spence lunch I want to make sure he will actually be gone. And not only do you know everything, but I know he has to fill out a thing saying he’s going to be out. Which I still think is weird since it’s just lunch, but I guess it makes sense if there’s a chance he won’t be back before his lunch break is over.”

“Y/N you just rambled so hard. Let me look real quick sweet pea,” she says, and I hear her start typing away. “Yep,” she says after a second. “Looks like he will be gone for lunch tomorrow. You should be good to go.”

“Awesome, thanks Pen! Do you want a dessert or anything when I come in?”

“You know I do. Just bring me something from wherever you wind up getting takeout. I’m not picky about my desserts,” she says with a small laugh.

“Great. Thanks again Penny! I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay! I’ll send an email downstairs warning them that you are coming. Bye!” she responds, and I say thanks and bye and then hang up the phone.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“I overheard your dad asking Penny why you were coming in at lunch tomorrow,” Spencer says to me as we sit at my kitchen table eating dinner later that night.

“Oh crap,” I say around my bite of crab rangoon. “What did she say?” I respond after finishing chewing.

“She said you were bringing her lunch and hanging out for a bit. At which point he told her to keep you there until he got back from lunch with Krystall because he hasn’t seen you in a few weeks,” he says, shooting me a look that says more than his words did.

“I know. It is bad for me to not see him for so long, but I knew that if I saw him in person he would ask me why I seem so happy and I would immediately spill about our entire relationship because I have no backbone,” I tell him, standing up and taking my half full plate over to the counter and grabbing the saran wrap , wrapping my leftovers up.

“You’re done already?” he asks from where I left him at the table, and I don’t say anything, just nodding and then walking over to the couch and sitting down, grabbing my kindle and turning it on. I sit there silently, not even reading, just staring off into space with tears slowly falling down my face.

I hear Spencer stand up and push his chair in a few minutes later, and then I hear him walk over to me. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of my head. He walks around the couch, setting something down on the side table before lifting my feet up and resting them on his lap as he sits down.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking my kindle out of my hands and setting it next to whatever he had placed on the table, and then pulling me even closer to him by my legs.

“I feel so guilty for keeping so many secrets from him. I mean he didn’t even really know my half sister, and yet they’ve formed a relationship like ours is. Or I guess used to be. When I was a kid and my mom decided she didn’t want me around anymore and sent me to live with him we built such a great relationship. And throughout high school it stayed great. And then I moved out for college and we spent less time together, and he got back together with Krystall, and I had moments where I felt her daughter and Joy were replacing me.

“Which I told him about and we fixed it and things were great again. I graduated, got a teaching job nearby, and we were great. I would spend so many nights having dinner with him, or with him and Krystall. I would go with him to visit Joy. He knew everything there was to know about me, I told him everything,” I say, wiping a tear off my face as I finish my speech.

“And then you got together with me,” Spencer says quietly. I nod, allowing another tear to fall down my face, wiping it off and then I reach out and grab Spencer’s hand.

“I don’t want you to think I regret you. Because that is the last thing I am thinking or feeling. However, I am having extended amounts of anxiety about him finding out before we tell him. I don’t think that he won’t approve, because he knows how amazing you are, you’ve been friends for so long. He sees you as a son already, and not just because you’re with his kid and probably going to be family one day,” I say, the last sentence slipping out of my mouth so easily. I knew the comment wouldn’t bother Spencer, because even though we have only been together for a little less than six months we have had the conversation already, and we both feel that we are it for each other. “But the reality we have to think about is the fact that we do have a sizable age difference, which he is not going to just let go. And he’s not going to be happy we kept it a secret for three months. And he probably won’t be happy about…” and before I can finish the last sentence Spencer cuts me off.

“Okay listen. First of all, in the long run, I’m only eight years older than you. Which isn’t bad. It just seems longer because I graduated from everything so early. And because when we met I was working with your dad and you were still in college. Yes, I’m 32 to your 24, but you have more dating experience than I do, because you went to college in your late teens and early twenties, not when you were 12. And as for the keeping it a secret for three months, I think over time he will understand why we did that. I mean he kept getting back together with Krystall from you for a good amount of time. How long was it again?”

“Like almost a year,” I say with a small laugh.

“Exactly my point. He’ll get over it,” he says, and takes my hand, pressing a small kiss to the top of it. “Now, if you’re done freaking out, I brought your food over for you. I know you weren’t actually done, that you were just anxious,” he says, reaching over to the side table, grabbing the plate and handing it to me. As I take the plate from him I lean forward pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you. And I appreciate you so much. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know me so well,” I tell him, before pulling away and immediately popping a bite of food into my mouth.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“Y/N, I didn’t realize you were coming in for lunch today,” Aaron says as I carry the to-go bag full of food over to the kitchenette in the BAU.

“Yeah, I had the day off,” I say with a small smile as I put things down.

“Well, I’m assuming it’s for Penny, since your dad is out for lunch with Krystall today,” he says with a knowing smile on his face.

“Oh man. You know everything don’t you,” I say with a groan, sitting down at the table in the small kitchen area.

“Yeah. Turns out I am pretty good at my job,” he responds with a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad anything until you and Spencer decide to. Also, I know my opinion isn’t really the one that matters, but I think you and Spencer are a good match,” he says, patting my shoulder before walking away. I put my face in my hands and groan, before getting up and walking over to Spencer’s desk. I sit down in his chair and spin around in it, glancing around the rest of the room. Before too long I hear voices begin to drift into the room.

“Wow it smells good in here,” I hear Derek say as he walks in the room. He spots me before Spencer does, and I watch as a mischievous smile comes over his face. “Hey baby, come to bring me lunch?” he says, walking over to me and picking me up from Spencer’s chair, spinning me around before setting me on the floor and placing a loud kiss on my cheek.

“In your dreams Morgan,” I say with a laugh, walking around him to Spencer. I fling myself at him as soon as I get close enough. “Hey babe,” I say, stretching my face up to his for a quick kiss. He mumbles a hello, and I unwrap myself from him and take his hand, dragging him over to the table. “I got Italian. I was craving some chicken alfredo,” I tell him as I sit down next to him and start pulling the food out of the bag. He chuckles and helps me unload the bag, before sitting down next to me.

We sit and eat our food together, making small talk, and talking to his coworkers everytime they come up to the table we’re sitting at.

“Hey teacher lady,” Penny says to me as she sits down next to me with her lunch in her hands.

“Hey Pen,” I say, leaning over and giving her a hug. “So you told my dad I was bringing you lunch?” I ask with a small smile.

“It seemed like the best answer. Unless you wanted me to out your relationship,” she says with a shrug and a sly smile.

“Thanks Pen. Always thinking on the fly.” She shrugs again and digs into her lunch. I hand her the dessert I got her and she thanks me with a small smile. “Did he tell you when he would be back?” I ask her after a minute or two of the three of us eating in silence.

“No. Sometimes it's a longer lunch and sometimes it’s shorter. Depends on when Krystall has plans next.” I nod in understanding, and then turn my attention to Spencer.

“Do we have plans for dinner tonight?”

“Not any specific ones. It’s Friday though so I thought I could order some type of take-out for us and we could watch a movie,” he says and I nod.

“Ooh can we rent that new rom-com? I know they aren’t your favorite but I’m in the mood for one. We can watch that and then a foreign film for you,” I say, hoping the foreign film will get him to say yes.

“We don’t also have to watch a foreign film,” he says with a small laugh and shake of his head. “We can watch that new movie. I don’t have a problem with it,” he says, leaning over and kissing the top of my head. I look up at him and smile, before pulling him closer and placing a kiss on his lips.

“Aww, you guys sicken me,” Penny says in a baby voice, and I laugh, flipping her the bird and then kissing Spencer again. “Um, Y/N,” she says when I pull away from Spencer again, and I turn and look at her, not even registering the nervousness on her face.

“What Penny?” I ask with a small smile on my face, my smile growing bigger when Spencer pulls my chair closer to his and wraps his arm around me. “You have an audience,” she says in a whisper, pointing behind us. I sit up straight and glance at Spencer, grabbing his hand in mine, before hearing the tell-tale clearing of my father’s throat.

“I am not turning around,” I whisper, my hands starting to shake as I realize who exactly is standing in the doorway of the BAU. “He can’t do anything if I don’t even turn and look at him,” I say even quieter than before. Spencer squeezes my hand, looking down at his food, and Penny’s eyes keep darting from him to me and then back again, with a dart of her eyes to my dad every few seconds. We sit there in awkward silence, me refusing to move, for what feels like a century.

“There’s no case today, and my paperwork is all done. We could do this stand off all day long,” I hear from my father after probably a minute has passed. “Or, you could stand up and walk with me to my office.” I flinch, looking over at Spencer, and then at Penny. Penny scrambles to gather her food, and walks with her head down past my father, mumbling a small good luck to me as she leaves. Spencer squeezes my hand, and I nod my head in defeat, standing up. Spencer stands up with me, pulling me into a hug.

“Nothing he says matters,” he whispers to me as we hug. “I love you and you love me and that is what matters. Nothing else,” he says, and then places a kiss on the top of my head and lets me go. I nod again, and then turn my body and stiffly begin to walk to my father’s office. I hear him begin to follow me, but not before I hear what he says to Spencer.

“You’re next. My office in twenty minutes,” he says, and I can’t even bring myself to look over my shoulder at Spencer, instead choosing to continue walking to my father’s office.

As I enter my father’s office I immediately sink into the couch he has sitting on one wall, covering my face with my hands. It isn’t long before he walks in, and I hear him turn one of the chairs sitting at his desk to look at me. He sits down silently, not saying a word for at least two minutes. After what feels like a century of sitting in silence, he finally speaks up.

“I’m not mad. I know you think I am, but I’m not,” he says, and I let my hands drop from my face, looking at him.

“What?” I ask, shock evident in my voice.

“I mean I was mad a month ago when I figured it out, but I’m not mad anymore,” he says, a small smile coming across his face.

“A month?” I whisper, confusion written across my face as I try to figure out how he knew a month ago.

“You aren’t as sneaky as you think. A little over a month ago I drove over to your apartment because it had been awhile since we spent any time together, so I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner together. When I pulled up to your building, I saw Spencer’s car outside. At first I thought it was a coincidence, that maybe he was seeing someone else in your building, so I parked and headed in. Your doorman let me in because he knew I was your dad,” he said, and I immediately remembered which night he was talking about, because Mark had told me he had sent my dad up, but because I never heard him knock I chalked it up to Mark getting mixed up over which tenant’s dad went up.

“So I went up to your apartment. When I got there, I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me. I stood in the hallway and waited, but I could hear you talking to someone. Being the profiler that I am, I leaned on your door and listened to the voices, trying to make sure you weren’t in trouble, because you hadn’t told me you were dating any one person, or even that you were going on dates. And then I heard him,” he says, and I immediately remember what he had heard.

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Flashback:

“What are you going to tell your dad when you’re out of town next weekend?” Spencer asked me as I stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables. I pause my cutting, thinking I heard a knock at the door, but then determine it was just my knife hitting the cutting board and start up again.

“That I’m going on a trip with a few of my fellow teachers at work. But I also will only have to tell him if you guys don’t get called on a case. If you do it won’t matter because I won’t be going anywhere,” I tell him with a shrug.

“I mean you could still go,” Spencer says, and I stop what I’m doing to turn and look at him.

“For one, I’m not going on a couples trip to a spa without you. And for two, you’re a profiler. You should know how dangerous it is for women to travel on their own,” I tell him, crossing over to him.

“I know, but I still think you deserve a weekend away. I know the stress of not telling your dad has been weighing on you. You need a weekend at a spa.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be fun without the man I love,” I say, and stretch up to place a kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” he says in response, and then pulls me in again. When we pull away again he smirks at me. “How hungry are you?” he asks, and I laugh and take his hand, dragging him into my bedroom. Neither of us noticed the shadow of feet under the door as we walked by it.

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“You heard us talking about the spa trip,” I whisper looking at the ceiling as I calculate just how much he may have heard.

“Yeah. I finally decided it was time to stop eavesdropping when I heard you walk towards your room. I went down to the lobby, waved bye to your doorman, and left. I was pretty angry so I didn’t text you or call you to let you know I had been by. I went home, and told Krystall everything that I had heard. I wanted to get right back in my car and go over to your apartment and yell at you, but she talked me out of it. She reminded me that you would tell me when you were ready. I expected it to be within the next week, but then you still didn’t, and before I knew it it was past the time where it would be acceptable for me to bring up the fact that I knew. So I decided to wait until you were ready to let me know,” he says, and the way he sits back after he finishes shows me that he’s done.

“We were going to tell you next week. Next week is our six month anniversary, and we were waiting to tell you until after that,” I say, looking at him to see his reaction to knowing just how long we had been hiding this from him. He doesn’t show much of one, so I continue. “I wanted to be able to prove that we were serious about each other before I told you. I knew you would wind up thinking it was just a fling and it would change your work relationship with him if you knew before it had been a while.”

“Honey, from the moment I realized something had changed about you, I knew whatever it was was either a forever kind of thing or something that was going to put you in the hospital if it ended. I never would have thought it was just a fling between the two of you,” he says, standing up and coming to sit next to me on the couch. I scoot over and wrap my arms around him.

“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed,” I tell him, tears welling up in my eyes as he wraps his arms around me.

��I never would be,” he whispers, placing a kiss on my forehead. We sit together in silence for a few minutes, before a knock comes from the door, and the door pushes open less than ten seconds later.

“Sir, I love your daughter,” Spencer says as he steps foot in the room and closes the door behind him, not looking at the two of us as he does so. I laugh a watery laugh, and my dad kisses me on the forehead once more before pulling back and standing up.

“I know you do,” he says as he walks over to where Spencer is standing. Spencer looks at him confused, and then looks at me and sees the tears falling down my face. He moves to walk over to me, but I hold my hand up and motion towards my dad.

“Rossi, I don’t know what she has told you so far, but I want you to know that I love her more than anything, and I plan to one day marry her,” Spencer says, looking at my dad. My dad chuckles at Spencer and holds out his hand.

“Welcome to the family then Reid.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

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venacoeurva · 5 months ago

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Commission of a more 🔞adult persuasion 🔞 are available again! Some very important rules before you IM me (ignore mentions of the slots being experimental, the rules were from my recent run of these testing the waters but still apply other than that) and the process:

Under the cut to save your dashes

Process:

Read the rules (below) and figure out what you would like if it's something I'll do (if shading, poses, overall scene, etc.). Also please acknowledge the price is something you can/are willing to pay.

IM me including an email you can use to discuss such content, if you're someone I recognize and am comfortable taking such a comm from you (unlikely chance I WON'T, but y'know) I'll email you. DO NOT INCLUDE THE ACTUAL COMMISSION DESCRIPTION/ANY IMAGES OF THAT NATURE HERE. Don't accidentally get yourself flagged.

I will give you a randomized codeword in the IM so I know who is who, especially if email and username don't match. Also, so I can verify it's not some rando who saw us interact/saw that you commed me before and is trying to sneak around. (in my and others' experiences, people do weird, cringeworthy desperate things to get these types of commissions, man...)

When I email you, respond with the following info: -The codeword and who you are on Tumblr -Paypal email to invoice - What you would like drawn as well as parameters (if cropped specifically, what type? If you want shading, if a comic then how many panels or pages, etc.) -Any visual references such as for OCs/Player characters or AU versions of characters. I will not draw characters that only have a written description unless I have done a commission with that for you before and I know you do written descriptions very well and are responsive wrt changes.

We continue from there. If I accept your commission, I will then invoice you and once paid and started, send you a sketch to be approved, and finish it once that sketch is approved. Until you approve a sketch or give feedback asking for any changes necessary and then approve the modified sketch/want any more changes, it will be counted as inactive and will not be worked on further. A lack of response from the client when it's required to move forward for 3 months will result in your slot being forfeit, and if I have gotten past the sketch phase, you forfeit a refund as well; this doesn’t come into effect if I haven’t started your comm yet due to backlogs.

Some examples of the type of lineart texture and how I do the black lineart shading in my style, including an actual comm I COULD censor enough. I can also add the weathered and halftone effects, just ask for it!

#I'll be starting with 2 slots with one image per person and one slot per person!#suggestive #Sorry about the long post @ anyone who is not interested in these lmao #commissions #non osha compliant

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adonis-koo · 2 years ago

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sweet nothing • 3

(in which he's coddled for coming home late and wet)

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word Count: 3k

Previous | Next

Note: yet another chapter not proof read but honestly ?? I like to think it gives it character

Rain poured against the window seal in a never ending drip, thunder roaring out once more causing you to jump in your spot, clenching your book harder than before.

You always had anxiety when it came to loud noises, let alone monstrous storms that blew through, you had been a good distance away from the windows in the parlor, snuggled up against the couch, one hand on your tummy and the other resting on top of it with a book.

Cautiously you peered out the windows into the darkness of the night before back to the grandfather clock against the wall, it was almost eleven.

“Will he be okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, turning to Yeonjun who had been typing away on his laptop, sat at an oak desk off in the corner.

His fingers paused as his feline gaze drew up at you, a small smile tugging on his lips, “It’s not uncommon for Jungkook to stay out late, he out doing business so he won’t get in until three the earliest.”

Business.

That’s all you could get out of anyone, anytime you tried to pry just about every guard was mums the word, you knew Jungkook dealt in narcotics due to your brother being one of his lower level dealers.

But you knew Jungkook had to be involved in more than that, there was no way someone as rich and prestigious as him only involved in one branch of the underworld. You supposed it didn’t matter, but the idea of him being out in this weather was still making you anxious.

You didn’t see him yesterday either, he was also out doing business and you had ended up falling asleep before he got back, you didn’t see him at breakfast either, as he had apparently already gotten up and with on his way to an emergency company meeting at his exports firm.

There was no way this was healthy for him to be running so ragged, not only this but it was cold outside too! He could catch a cold if he wasn’t careful.

“I doubt this will make a difference but…” Yeonjun trailed off for a moment before he spoke, “Jungkook said to not wait up for him today.”

You crossed your arms at this, “I haven’t seen him in nearly two days. Will he be here in the morning?”

Yeonjun didn’t reply immediately which made you huff.

He sighed, “He’s a busy man, I’m sure you’ll see him soon,” Yeonjun frowned, “He may be soft on you but he isn’t on me, I’ll never hear the end of it if you stop sleeping because of him.”

“Then maybe that will motivate him to not work so hard.” You pouted, “Yeonjun, are you not able to assist him at all in these…affairs…” You hesitated uncertain of how to word it, you knew Yeonjun was an underling but you didn’t know much more than that, other than he was the one in the driver's seat when you were shoved into the car when you were first abducted.

Yeonjun laughed, “Uh that’s exactly what I’m doing right now,” He glanced at his screen before huffing, “It’s not all action and illegal deals. I’ve written like seven emails impersonating him today. When it comes to broader scaled stuff Jungkook usually prefers to handle it himself, makes it less stressful on everyone that way.”

You perked up at this, “So…he’s doing something that's a pretty big deal then?”

Yeonjun nodded but glance away, you could sense his hesitation to elaborate on it, “Yeah, like I said, Jungkook is very hands on, which is nice because once a lot of mobsters hits this point they usually just have an established hierarchy to handle just about everything.”

You leaned back against the couch with a frown, “But he’s hardly slept at all the last week, surely he could have somebody else to help him as well.”

Yeonjun snorted, “It could be worse, he’s got Yoongi to split his duties with, it’s just a big role to fill…” He paused as if realizing what he just said.

“Who’s Yoongi?” You tilted your head.

Yeonjun animatedly shook his head, “I’ve said way too much.”

“Yeonjun!” You pouted, “Why am I not allowed to know anything? I feel like I should at least have the right to know what my brother did!”

He only shook his head once more, “That’s a call for Jungkook to make, I’m not looking to have my frontal lobe painted against the fireplace.”

“Jungkook wouldn’t-”

“Oh he would,” Yeonjun cut you off, playful at first before his face grew more serious, “I have a lot of respect for Jungkook, but I’m not stupid enough to buy into a bond that we don’t have. All it takes is one big fuck up to be dead in this game, i’m not an exception.”

Something about his words made a pit form in your stomach as you pulled your blanket back over your lap, “Why chose this lifestyle then…?”

You didn’t understand.

“Cause’ my dad’s a piece of shit that drowned my family in debt before dying,” Yeonjun went back to typing on his laptop as he continued, “He left us to deal with all of that because he was a selfish cunt, I have three little brothers and my mom is hospitalized so there wasn’t much else to do. I started out street dealing and hijacking narcs from other vendors- horrible idea by the way, anyways they just so happened to be Jungkook’s supply, once he caught wind of it they caught me almost instantly.”

“How did you live?” You cocked your head to the side, engrossed once more.

“Jungkook was impressed that I managed to steal from their supply and make twice the amount they were on their own goods. He basically told me I could either work for him or I could get fucked. Not much of a choice there.” Yeonjun shrugged, “It’s been about three years now and I’ve worked my way up to this position. Like I said, I have a lot of respect for him and I’ll forever be grateful, he’s the one forking out my mom’s hospital bills, but I know better than to cross those lines.”

“Seems like he has a big heart for such a short temper.” You commented, you had only gotten a taste of his temper but it was becoming apparent that the Jungkook you knew before you had been kidnapped was an entirely different person.

It made you wonder just what side of him was real.

“There has to be a balance for everything.” Yeonjun shrugged.

The rain continued to pound against the windows as you yawned, a peaceful silence taking over once more aside from the rain and clicking of a keyboard. You resumed your book though after an hour your eyes finally won out their sleepiness.

Laying your head against the pillow you dozed off.

The next time you awoke it due to a roar of thunder, jumping up before the lights flickered, you briefly glanced at the clock seeing it was almost four in the morning before the room went dark.

“Goddammit,” Yeonjun complained from his desk, “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you Y/n.”

“I woke from the thunder.” You glanced in his direction as he turned on his phone light, sighing as he stood up with a stretch, “I need to go tell the guards to turn on the generator, i’ll be back in a moment.”

He excused himself before quietly exiting out of the room as you wrapped yourself in a blanket once more, glancing around in uncertainty, the door opened once more as Yeonjun walked back in.

“Alright, the generator should be on in a half an hour, let's go ahead and make use of the fireplace.” He set up his phone light as he got to work on putting kindle into the fireplace.

The door opened once more with a loud thud of boots on the ground causing you to jump as you turned around to the door, looking over the couch.

Soaking wet hair and a familiar, tired face appearing, “Generator has some fried wiring, go down and help them, I can take it from here.”

Yeonjun nodded, “Welcome back Sir.”

“You’re soaked…” Your lips quivered into a frown as Yeonjun exited the room and Jungkook took his place kneeling in front of the fireplace.

“Yeah,” Jungkook sighed, “And you should be in bed.”

He said it with such disdain, a look on his face equivalent to that of scolding a child it made your lips twist into a pout.

“I haven’t seen you in nearly two days,” You replied, straightening yourself upright as you stared into his back, watching the water droplets patter against the floor as he fiddled with a few thin pieces of bark, “You can’t begrudge me that.”

“That I can’t,” He agreed, “But you can’t tell me that’s a comfortable spot to fall asleep, your back is already in pain as it is.”

“I was perfectly comfortable.” You retorted, “...Did you finish your deal…?”

You glanced away from him in uncertainty, it would soon be coming up on a month that you had been living in Jungkook’s estate, and while you had gotten to know Jungkook decently well, there was one thing you never dared bring up.

Anything that was relevant to his life in the underworld.

It just felt like something that shouldn’t be spoken about though Jungkook had never made any references to make you feel as such before.

Jungkook shrugged, “It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t good, about as usual as it goes.” He lit a match before tossing it in, the tweed like wood immediately setting ablaze as he stood up, groaning at the sight of how wet he was.

You could hardly stand to watch it as you tutted, standing up as you grabbed the blanket that had been in your lap, “You’re going to catch a cold!”

Jungkook sighed in exasperation as the deep maroon blanket suddenly draped over his shoulders as you wrapped it around him as you spoke, “Don’t look at me like that, It’s not that cold when you’re dry, here, come here.”

Jungkook said nothing as he clacked his lips, letting your shorter figure shuffle him over to the couch as you grabbed the other blanket, a much bigger one that had been folded, laying on top of the upper cushion.

Pulling the second one over his shoulders, you paused at the sight, dripping wet hair covering his eyes making him look deathly serious, but it was difficult to take him serious when he was buried in two fuzzy blankets.

“Are you done yet?” He asked with a dry tone, “Or do you wanna swaddle me in a third layer?”

You didn’t mean to let out a snort of amusement, but it was hard not too at how drastic his face was from the situation, “Depends on whether you consider yourself warm yet.”

“I’ll be warm once the fire is going.” Jungkook replied, purposely not answering the question, partly because he would never admit he was freezing to you.

Bit also because it made a fuzzy feeling tingle all over his skin at being fussed over and coddled at, Jungkook couldn’t recall the last time someone had been so worried and attentive over him, it was difficult to not cease the moment.

“Okay, let me see if we have more blankets-” You were stopped short when he reached out, grabbing your wrist with a stern expression that made you giggle, “Fine, fine, have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t try when you end up with a cold.”

“I don’t get colds.” Jungkook replied, far too serious for a man buried in two blankets.

“Everyone gets cold.” You sat down next to him with a huff, putting a hand on your stomach as you stretched, your back admittedly aching though you’d rather die than admit he was right.

“I don’t.” Jungkook shrugged, “When you run two businesses you don’t have time to get sick.”

You frowned as you placed your lips, “I think that’s just called self-negligence.”

Jungkook rubbed his face tiredly, “Is this seriously what you’ve been missing the last two days?”

You only grinned sheepishly as you rubbed your arms, feeling the chilled air prick at your skin as the wood crackled and the rain continued to pour.

“Will you be busy tomorrow?” You asked, finally glancing towards him, he was close enough too you, leaned back against the couch and you took notice in how he seemed to curl up against his blankets, making a brief smile tug on your lips.

“Depends on what your follow up sentence will be,” Jungkook shrugged.

You shook your head, “No follow up sentence, I’m just curious…Does it have to do with Wonho…?”

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled in disdain, a familiar look, anytime you asked about Wonho you were usually met with the same sentence.

“I wish,” He huffed, looking somewhat frustrated, “I have eyes over half of Seoul and nothing, I mean he’s one man and it’s like all of a sudden he’s a ghost. Only people with powerful connections can make that happen.”

You frowned at his words and when he didn’t speak he continued, “I didn’t want to have to ask but, given we're coming up on a month of you staying here, I feel like it’s worth a shot; was Wonho dealing for anyone else?”

Your frown stayed as you thought back to the times you had come with Wonho to the club, partly because he wanted someone else around with him, it was always safer in pairs.

Slowly shook your head, “Not that I can recall…I mean he knew lots of people. But I wouldn’t consider him close enough to any of them to be willing to cover his tracks.”

Jungkook sighed, as if anticipating this as he slowly shook his head, “We squeezed that apartment clean of anything that might relate to where he’s at, we’ve already talked to his other partners, bought out his clients, I mean fuck, Yeonjun even nosed around at the Red Light to see if his whores knew anything.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, pushing it from his eyes as he tiredly closed them while rubbing his face, “How do you catch a ghost?”

It was rhetorical question you wished you had the answer for, your brother was a lot of things, but one of the traits he had since a child was his cunning ability to mislead people, it was harmless as a child.

He used to always convince the street vendor to give you an extra rice cake or when the school bullies would stop him on your walks home, he’d somehow convince them to go bother someone else.

Wonho had a silver tongue, he never used his fists for confrontations.

Memories of your shared childhood made a certain type of sadness flood you, Jungkook may known the Wonho now, who would easily sell you off if it meant a free case of fentanyl, but you still vividly remembered the Wonho who gave you piggyback rides when you were sad, when he would make you ramen for dinner and give you his portion because you were still hungry.

Wonho wasn’t always such a greedy person.

There was a time when he easily sacrificed himself if it meant keeping you safe and happy, you just weren’t sure where things went wrong and he would now turn and do the very opposite if it meant his self preservation continued on.

Your hands rubbed your arms for warmeth as you stared into the fire with a tired yawn, Jungkook had noticed your quiet figure before he let out a small sigh, uncurling once side of his outer blanket, the great big one.

Your body was suddenly engulfed by the blanket, now sharing it with Jungkook as you glanced at him.

“There’s no reason I should have this all to myself,” He huffed, “We could probably fit Yeonjun in here too if we wanted.”

You raised your brows, “Should I go get him?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Y/n, just because I said we could doesn’t mean I want to,” Jungkook replied flatly, “What part of my face says I want him in this room?”

You pouted, “Has anyone ever told you how grumpy you are late at night?”

Jungkook scoffed as he rolled his eyes, leaning back, now slumping against the cushion,

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“What?”

“I’m always grumpy.”

You only smiled at this as you shook your head, yawning once more as your eyes tiredly began to close. For once you didn’t mind the thunder rumbling loud or the rain that somehow began to pound even harder against the glass windows, a comforting crackle of the fire.

Your head eventually slumped down, finding the nice soft fuzzy blanket on above Jungkook’s shoulder, he had yawned out as well, trying to not overthink about the deal today. He glanced down at you and then the blanket as he shook his head.

The door opening to Yeonjun having good news about the generation, “We still have to hot wire a few things but it should be up and running…” He paused as his eyes landed on Jungkook.

“Not a word,” Jungkook’s expression looked deathly, “A single fuckin’ word Yeonjun. Forget about the generator.”

“What?” Yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up, “But don’t you want hot water?”

“Did you not just fuckin’ hear me?” Jungkook’s brows pinched together, “Leave the lights off, fix it in the morning, go do whatever you want I don’t care. Just put another piece on the fire before you go.”

Yeonjun huffed, glancing between his boss because his eyes dropped on you, leaning against himself, asleep once more. Yeonjun shook his head before he threw up his hands, going to the fireplace as he tossed a few more thicker pieces on as he glanced over his shoulder.

Jungkook’s eyes had closed, his head laying on top of yours and as you both shared a blanket. Yeonjun let a brief smile tug on his face, if he didn’t know any better he’d assume his boss was wanting to milk this moment with you, but then again, what did he know, right?

Taglist as per requested:

@btseverafter7 @scuzmunkie @zae007live @cynicalbitch666 @somehowukook @bartisedrew @princess-sunshyn @jung-shook-iieee @chickpea-jimin @hoseokteardroprop @guk97butterfly

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #bts au #mafia!jungkook

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harrywavycurly · 1 month ago

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Trouble Next Door Kindle/PDF Edition🖤

Hi babes! So I know yall really liked this series and I got told a long time ago that some of yall wished you could sit and read it all in one go and not have to go back chapter to chapter. So I have done that! I have made it into a PDF that you can send to your Kindle and read it there or just read it on your phone all in one place and it has all the bonus content as well! ✨

I just tagged everyone that was on the tag list, but anyone can have it if you want it! I have the PDF ready to go I just have to email it to you. I might do this for other series as well like It Was Just One Night if yall end up liking this! But anyway take this as a holiday gift from me to yall because I know I haven’t written for Eddie in a while but just know he’s still in my brain floating around and he will be back, I love yall and thanks for being amazing✨

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @forrestfantasy94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @amberpanda99 @munsonmecrazy

#eddie munson fanfic #trouble next door extras #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson social media au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x bff!reader #my little dungeon master baby #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson

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narrycherries · 13 days ago

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Hi, I’m about to spiral if I don’t get this issue sorted out 😭😭😭

basically, I’m anxious asf and I’ve been overthinking this Ivy situation for the past couple days, even before I released the first poll… pls keep reading to save my sanity

When I first started writing this series, the main female character had a name, it was “Ivy”. The series was still titled “Ivy” too (after a song, if some of you haven’t picked up on that yet!) but right before I posted the first part I was like what if ppl think it’s weird that her name is ivy and the series is called ivy!!?? So I changed it last minute. Ever since it’s been bothering me. Someone pointed out that they think I shouldn’t be doing it as a reader pov (y/n) series and I think I agree… as in “think” I mean I want to change it 😭

The thing is I’m literally terrified to change it 😭 like idk if it would be the best thing?? Do you guys like it bc it’s a (y/n) written story?? Like am I about to ruin a good thing? The feedback I’ve gotten has been 99% great wonderful amazing on this series and I don’t want to jeopardize the future of the series😭

SO, please vote if you have time before I lose my mind!! It’s 10000% free, no emails collected! 😭 save me plsss

save my brain from a spiral -> (poll closed)

Adding my taglist just because I’m desperate for opinions 😭😭

@boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy @angelbunny222 @mads3502 @harrysredroom @inlikea-coolway @matildasatellite @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @sincerely-yours-marsbar

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waywardstation · 2 months ago

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I just wanna say this ; I've been binging your Ao3 fics and so far my absolute favorite is Lets get you back to her! It's just, it's everything to me. It's so cute, and I love how the past and present parallel each other. And uhhhh the ending destroyed me.

I honestly can't wait for the sequel to it. I'm betting my bank account it's gonna be called Lets get you back to him.

Imagine if Ingo and Emmet took a trip to Sinnoh before, and Ingo got lost in Jubilife trying to meet up with Emmet. And then Johanna to the rescue, she guides him to the Cafe he's meant to be at, and then Emmet waves him over and draps an arm over his shoulder as he teases him about getting lost. And then it cuts to the present (a couple months after the first fic), where Johanna and Akari lead him to Gear Station or something, and then Emmet comes in running and tackle hugs Ingo in a tearful reunion.

Or maybe on a funnier note, Johanna tries to email Emmet like "hey come pick up your brother", but either never gets a response or Emmet doesn't believe her. So she hauls Ingo all the way to Unova (doesn't matter Ingo is legally dead or has no documentation on him, she's a famous coordinator and she can pull some strings), and takes him to Gear Station like "okay here he is".

In regards to my fic Let’s Get You Back to Her (Once again tumblr will not let me link the post to the fic, if you haven’t read it and want to, you can find it in my pinned post!)

THANK YOU FOR SUCH A FUN ASK ANON!! First off I’m so, so happy to hear that you want to binge read my stuff! ;0; <3 thank you!! I’m so glad to hear you like Let’s Get You Back to Her as well, it’s still one I really like!!

(Also, ‘Let’s Get You Back to Him’ is a PERFECT sequel title wow. I didn’t even think about that!! Kudos to you because that’s really good haha)

AND I REALLY LOVE YOUR IDEAS ANON THOSE ARE SO FUN!! The email variation is so funny because yeah I’m sure by that point Emmet would look at that email and think it’s a sick joke of some sort. Gotta drag Ingo over there now to prove it’s not!!

But the cafe idea is so sweet!! Now instead of Ingo bringing a lost Akari/Dawn back to Johanna, now Johanna’s gotta be the one to bring Ingo to Emmet haha. I really like that idea! And then doing it again at Gear Station, once again bringing Ingo back to Emmet but this time it’s much more emotional. Ahhh!! ;0;

Love these ideas anon! Thank you for sharing them!! But about how the sequel might actually go now…

Big ramble below about how I feel the originally planned sequel to LGYBTH would have to be different now, considering I still want it to be canon to my entire narrative, but also have to consider the events of IWLYB.

—————

The sequel is actually something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, so this ask was perfect timing haha. LGYBTH was written before I had really started constructing an overarching narrative in my works, so if you’re aware of my WIP fic I Won’t Leave You Behind, that fic would sort of change the sequel, as the sequel would come immediately after it — it basically involves Akari bringing Ingo back with her to modern day Sinnoh, and getting him to a hospital after he sustained a serious injury from an alpha garchomp while protecting her.

It changes a lot of circumstances, and would almost certainly have Johanna get to the hospital first. She would have some time there with both Akari/Dawn, and Ingo, though he probably isn’t all there for a while.

I feel like Ingo would probably take some time to identify, being in an entirely different region altogether with no form of identification and still lots of his memory missing (that is, when he’s even alert), and he is probably moderately known at best by the general population in Sinnoh.

Ingo would have to depend on Akari/Dawn and Johanna to really get things going and alert Emmet to get over to Sinnoh and see him.

I feel like during the time Johanna and Akari/Dawn are in the hospital with Ingo, just the two of them, Johanna would get to hear her daughter tell her everything that Ingo did for her, including what he did to end up in the hospital in the first place (and Johanna would probably be the one to tell Akari/Dawn that they had met him before, and he was the one who found her when she was lost in Gear Station when she was little).

Johanna would be so grateful, I’m sure that (with Akari begging her to haha) she’d insist that Ingo and Emmet stay at their house for a bit once he’s able to keep recovering outside of the hospital. Maybe even let Emmet stay there before that, just so he doesn’t have to keep paying for a hotel just to stay close to Ingo.

But this stay would be relatively short. I have a big reason as to why, and why Emmet would not initially be able to take Ingo back to Unova with him after he recovers, but I want to cover that when I actually get the fic out :)

It has gotten a lot more complicated now that I’ve built up so much more of the overarching narrative since then, but I feel like overall it can still wind back around to being very close to the originally planned LGYBTH sequel!

There is still a lot to consider and go through, but I’m having fun figuring out how to connect everything :) thank you again for the ask kind anon!!! I’m so happy you like my works!!

#wayward’s asks #I won’t leave you behind

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observeowl · 1 month ago

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Second Chance | Chapter 21 - Once Again

Series masterlist

You woke up next to Natasha the next day after borrowing some clothes for the night. Perhaps because you felt comfortable with Nat, you slept all the way until 11am, or perhaps it was due to the movie marathon the both of you had the night prior. Either way, you slept soundly and haven’t felt so well rested in a long time.

You reached for your phone and noted that your friends texted you about the release of the school results. You quickly tapped Natasha to wake her up and told her to check her results too.

“There’s no need for that, I always get As, darling.” She mumbled as she buried her face in your torso.

“Good for you.” You mumbled. Natasha whined as you got out of bed to use her laptop to check your results. After logging in, you scrolled through all the other emails and finally got to the one that you were looking for.

It was quite easy to navigate, you only had one column to look for, which was possibly why it was so easy to see that you didn't get the results you wanted.

What’s the point in working so hard? Hard work doesn’t translate to good results. Only achieving B+ for 4 out of the 5 modules you take and even getting a C- for the last one. This is the worst result you have gotten in your entire education.

You let out a sigh but caused Nat to open her eyes and sat up a little. She didn’t know what to say, but she knows for sure that you didn’t get the results you wanted. “Didn’t get what you wanted?” You shook your head as you entered the bed and back in her arms again, this time with a slightly disappointed look in your face. “Doesn’t matter, you know I will earn enough for the both of us anyway.”

“Yeah… but I just want to get a good result for once. I don’t understand why everyone thinks that I am an A student, when I’m struggling not to get lower than a B. I mean, this is literally my second time taking the exam.”

“Good things come to those who wait. Who knows, you might be an all A student by the time we graduate.” She holds you tighter as she gives you affirmations.

“Hope so…” With two more semesters to go, you aren’t sure how much catch up you could make.

===

Over the remaining holiday, you spent the majority of the time with Natasha. But you didn’t forget to spend time with Diana and Camellia as well. They even urge you to bring Natasha along when everyone hangs out.

Natasha didn’t mind going anywhere as long as you were going. She even followed you to the hospital when it was time to remove the cast. But even after that, she still made sure you didn’t exert yourself too much.

It wasn’t long until school started and the time you get to meet Natasha decreased. But nonetheless, it seems like Natasha has gained a tingling sense for you when you’re near. She’ll spot you and leave her friends without a thought just to be able to say hi to you. Knowing that she loves to see your face light up, you gave her a quick kiss before you had to part ways to your classes.

“We are having dinner tonight?” It has become customary for her to come over to your house to have dinner together and sometimes she will stay over if she feels like it or return to her dorm if she has early class the next day.

“Always. I’ll be waiting.” You gave her another quick kiss before following your friends to enter the classroom.

“You guys are really fast balling this.” Camellia commented when she saw the interaction between you two. “From not wanting to be associated with each other to being each other's girlfriends in the span of 3 days. I really applaud you both.”

“Well… we just really understand each other.”

Knowing results means a lot to you, she tries to help out on your assignments as much as possible. She may not be learning the same subject, but she is able to provide a new perspective and sometimes all you need is someone with you to brainstorm a little. She’s able to help a lot when it comes to those written essays that have nothing to do with accounting, but more about logical thinking and reasoning. Her way with words is a lot stronger than yours and she’s always happy to proofread your work and amend any grammatical errors or add some flair to earn some marks.

Nat tried to help adjust your study method. Just putting your head down and reading your notes was not going to help you. She offered to be your partner in reciting the key points and making sure it stays in your brain. She even came up with new games to make sure it was fun and interesting.

In the end the hard work paid off when your results came back finally with one A and the rest B+. You were with Natasha when you checked the results once again and you celebrated the results with her by going out to a nice restaurant.

“Just dress up nicely. I’ll handle the rest.” She smiled as she dropped you off at your house after having lunch together. “I’ll come pick you up at 4pm.”

“Alright, can’t wait.” She puffed her cheeks out for another kiss and you huffed before giving her what she wanted.

“In hurry to go somewhere?” Your mother commented as she heard you moving about quickly. “Yeah, I’m going out with Natasha later to celebrate.” You commented as you hopped into the shower immediately instead of laying in the bed and using your phone.

“So you’re not coming back for dinner right?” She checked.

“No dinner!” You shouted through the door to make sure she heard it

You didn’t have to think what you were going to wear. Okay, that’s a lie. You had to think, but not much. You were going to wear the outfit you bought with Natasha the other day when you went shopping. It wasn’t often that you would choose to wear a dress. But you found something that you were confident in. It was just the right length for you. Not too short that you have to worry about your actions and not too long that it’s difficult to walk.

“Mum, can you help me take a picture?” You gave your phone to your mum and stood somewhere with good lighting. Previously, it’s not often that you took photos of your own, even less of others. You didn’t have good photography skills and it’s not something that bothered you. But, it didn’t give you the opportunity of looking back for memories. “Make sure you take it properly.” You ordered.

“Yes yes, I wouldn’t dare take a bad picture of you.” She snapped a few shots before giving you the phone to vet the pictures. Once you deemed it acceptable. You sat on the couch waiting for Natasha.

Knowing what she’s like, she arrived earlier than 4pm and even brought you a bouquet of flowers that you placed in a vase. While filling the vase with water, you were reminded how you had to get one ever since Nat started giving you flowers each time she visits your house. You told her you didn’t have any place to put the flowers and it would be such a waste for them to wilt and she immediately went to get you one.

“Alright, I’m ready.” You said to break the flow of conversation that Nat had with your mum.

“You look absolutely lovely, Y/N.” Nat complimented.

“Thank you, Nat. You look gorgeous as well..” She was also wearing the clothes that she picked.

“Since we are little early. Do you want to walk around a little or head straight there?” She asked as she brought you to her car which she borrowed from her mother. You thought about it for briefly before deciding to leave the walking for after dinner when it’s much cooler.

The drive there was relaxing, blasting pop music, excited for the night to come. “We’re here.” She said and rushed to open your doors.

“Nat, I know you want to open my doors. You don’t have to rush. I told you, I will wait for you.”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” Natasha said as you linked arms together.

As you approved the door of the restaurant, you noted there was something different. “Are you sure this is the right place? It doesn’t seem open.” You looked at Nat and asked.

She only gave you a cheeky smile and nodded before pushing the door open. True to your observation, the lights were off and Natasha had to find the light switch to turn on the lights. “I pulled a favour to get the place for the night.” She said as she flicked the light switch.

There were pictures hanging from several lines and some that you don’t even recognise. “What’s all this?” You asked.

“Just take a look.” Nat led you through the lines of pictures and you realised you were in every single one of them. “I had to ask your friends for some of the pictures.”

“But how? You only know Camellia and Diana. And they aren’t there for the archery events.” You commented as you noted some of the pictures were during the events that your club held.

“I asked Clint to give me their numbers. Easy job.” She shrugged her shoulders like it was nothing. “Now you get to have something to reminisce about. I’m sure our kids would love to see how cool their mother was shooting arrows.”

“I think this is my favourite.” Nat said as she took one out from the pegs. It is a picture of you being surrounded by your friends with a medal around your neck after having won the team event. “Your smile looks really great here. One of elation and relief.”

“Yeah. That’s definitely what I was feeling.” You smiled remembering all the hard work you had to put in to achieve that result. Moving forward, some of the pictures were in school and you couldn’t think of anyone who would take those pictures especially when it looked like the picture was taken quite a distance away.

“This… who did you get this from?”

“Myself. I also love the way you’re focused in class or trying to solve a problem. Makes you look very sexy.” She whispered next to your ears.

“That’s kinda stalkerish.”

“You can’t blame me, babe. I look for you each time in school.”

“What about this? Why is this empty?” You pointed at a blank piece of paper that was hanging with the rest.

“This? I am hoping to add the picture of our engagement.” She continued forward until she was at the end and turned to face you.

“Y/N, consider this the renewal of our vows. I made the mistake of pushing you away causing us to drift apart. Fate gave us another chance but I refuse to correct myself when the best thing has been in front of me all along. Finally thanks to more pushing and guidance, I was brought back to you once again. Something which I would never take for granted or let go ever again. This time, I promise to take better care of you, protect you and fight for you. So, will you marry me again?” She knelt down and presented you with the beautiful engagement ring.

“Yes. Yeah I will marry you again.” You nodded your head, trying to hold back your tears.

“Really? Yes! Yes!” She jumped up and hugged you and gave you kisses all over your face before slipping the ring on your finger. “My fiance. Not for long though. I can’t wait to actually call you my wife again.”

“Soon enough darling.”

“Give me a moment.” She held up a finger before running to the front door and shouting. “She said yes!!”

A parade of cheer sounded and so many people started streaming in. Your friend, parents, Melina, Alexis, Yelena. She had invited everyone prior to this knowing you would want to share this time with your family and friends but at the same time leave the intimate moment to the both of you.

“So, did I earn 10 out of 10?” She asked as she came back to your side and held your waist, wanting to hear your praise.

“9.5 out of 10.” The pout of her face was immediate. “I thought you would bring the marriage certificate as well.”

“I may have some connection. But not that much! I can’t bring the solemniser here.” She defended.

“I know I know. You have done very well, darling. Here’s to the rest of our life.” You took a glass from the table and raised it for a cheer and Natasha did the same.

“You’re going to get showered in love for the rest of your life, babe. Better be prepared.”

Series masterlist

@queen-of-chaotic-surprises @esposadejoyhuerta @gemz5 @natsxwife @dyslexic-dreamer @unexpected-character @eternalnight410 @leenasayeed @oh-thats-sad @skz-xii @gay-frogs-dancing-around @justspance

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #my writing #black widow 2021 #natasha romanoff fanfiction #second chance

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