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myouicieloz · 5 months

Text

Heartbeat

Shin Ryujin x reader

Synopsis: you’ve promised to take your best friend to an awaited party, located in a nearby city. Ryujin catches your eye, and you fall right into her web of plans, with the promise of having a good time once and for all.

Warnings: mentions of gangs, guns and drugs. smut. blood. violence. nsfw.

Word count: 13.8k

Notes: i thought abt this after watching ryujin’s solo mv! it was so good <3. this was a fairly new topic for me to write about, so I apologize if it’s poorly written or unrealistic. nevertheless, I had lots of fun writing it ˆˆ. english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

You don’t mind helping out your parents by working at the family’s Diner: there usually weren’t many customers, and days went by slowly without you being bothered.

“Hey, Y/n. Can I grab another soda?” Your best friend asks, brushing her hands in front of your face to get your attention. Facing you from the other side of the diner’s endless counter, Chaeryeong looks like a hyper child, standing up from her seat to take a look at the soda machine, placed behind your frame.

You roll your eyes at her, simply grabbing the large cup she hands you and filling it up with Coke Zero, this time. “Here.”

“Awn, man, come on!” She protests, grunting. Lets her head fall back. “Coke Zero tastes like shit, Y/n! Give me something tasty, damn.” Chaeryeong turns to the few other customers, gesticulating, “What does a girl have to do to get the good stuff around here? Stop with the misery!”

She has her finger pointed at you, to which you giggle. You’ve known Chaery since your diaper days, with her living in the house in front of yours, and the two of you have been best friends ever since. Her careless, playful nature provides a nice balance to your calm, responsible one. You love her to pieces, which means you are always taking care of the dark-haired girl, in many ways.

“You’ve reached your daily quota of sugar.” You don’t even look at her as you answer, busy giving an elder woman her exchange in cash. “And don’t make those faces. I might as well just give you water, from now on.” Smiling at the customer, you ignore your friend. “Thank you, ma’am! Have a pleasant day.” Chaeryeong gulps, knowing fully well you mean your words.

She keeps her thoughts to herself, mumbling something incoherent while the loud slurps of the iced drink can be heard. Still not paying her much attention, you lean your elbows on the counter marble, sighing tiredly. Even though it was only an hour past noon, you could feel the heaviness in your eyes, the tiredness getting to you. Not having any orders, you allow yourself a few moments of rest, closing your eyes and resting your head on your hands. Just some seconds of peace, you decide.

The bell chime’s noise announces the end of your calm state of mind. In a blink, your sister is placing a medium-sized box on the counter, her usual smile directed at you. You know better than to trust her angelic looks, though — behind her rose gold hair and delicate features, Rosé is nothing but a devious manipulator.

However, she’s still your older sister, and you love her to pieces. It’s the only reason you don’t ignore her, crossing your arms and waiting for her to speak up, instead. She pushes the box towards you, smiling sneakily.

“Good morning, baby sister.” Rosé greets you. As usual, she never goes straight to the point.

You narrow your eyes at her. “It’s past noon, Rosé.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She brushes you off, winking at Chaeryeong to say hello. The girl nearly drowns in her coke, coughing violently.

Chaeryeong has had a massive crush on your sister ever since she was fourteen. Fortunately for you, Rosé has never seen her as anything apart from a little sister too, like yourself. Although the not so subtle rejection has never stopped Chaery from freaking out whenever Rosé addressed or acknowledged her.

“Good morning to you too, Rosie unnie.” She says, after finally gathering her breath. You huff, muttering about how biased she was and being promptly ignored by both girls. The package catches Chaery’s attention, ever so curious, and she pokes it with her bony fingers. “And what’s that about?”

Rosé pulls the package towards you, shrinking her shoulders down a little. For some, she might seem hesitant, but you know her too well to be aware that her movements are anything short of calculated.

“Could you deliver this for me?” She asks —tone dripping with sweetness. It always is, whenever she wants something from you. This is no different. “They asked for the pieces pretty urgently, and I’ll be off to deliver another package in a nearby city in a few minutes.”

Apart from the Diner, your father also owned a mechanical workshop, and would often sell and deliver car pieces to his clients. Rosé, being her outgoing self, dealt with them and the business part of it while you preferred to step aside, helping with the Diner instead. It was only when she had too much work to do that you had to deal with her customers, instead —and those were never pleasant experiences.

Perhaps you were just not cut for the job, or your calm aura was easy to be taken advantage of, but it was a matter of fact: you sucked at negotiating deals and making small talk. It made you uncomfortable and anxious, having to put up a superior act and bargain with assholes until you got enough profit to go home satisfied, so you avoided it vigorously.

Unfortunately, Rosé never hesitated to ask for a hand.

You eye the box suspiciously, trying to figure out the content inside without having to touch it. Even though it seems heavy, you can never truly trust appearances. After all, car pieces are not the only thing they sell at your father’s shop.

“I mean… I could.” You smirk back at Rosé, your identical smiles mirroring one another. “But I don’t want to.”

Before you even register, Rosé smacks you on the head. You’ve never been able to buck from her quick hands anyway.

“Hey!” You massage your scalp, moving your upper body forward to give Chaeryeong a push, too, since the action has her laughing loudly. “Bitch.”

Rosé giggles, too, standing on her tiptoes to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“Pretty please, Y/nnie.” She sighs, joining her hands in a prayer. “I’ll owe you one. I’ll even give you that dress of mine you love, promise.”

Chaeryeong gives you a thumbs up, biased as she’s always been.

“Come on, Y/n, let’s just do it. It’ll be fun! It’s too monotonous to be at the Diner all day, anyway.”

“See?” Rosé gestures to your best friend, pleased to be supported. “Chaery, you’re so sweet.” Your sister pinches her nose, and Chaeryeong’s face turns as red as a strawberry in a matter of seconds. She turns to you once again, then, still faking that hesitation. “Please? It’d be an outstanding deal for us. Lots of profit and all.”

You roll your eyes, still not convinced. Even though Chaery’s eyes are nearly popping off her face with how intensely she’s glaring, you refuse to give in. Rosé was stubborn, but you share the same blood, after all.

“Aren’t any of your friends available? I can’t just close the Diner and go.” Lies. You simply refuse to bulge, to relent to Rosé’s wishes as you always did.

She doesn’t even blink, though, unbothered by your lack of cooperation.

“Lisa, Jisoo, and Jennie are all busy with other work deals too, as well as the boys.” She shrugs, going around the counter to grab a beer for herself. “Trust me, Y/n: if I had anyone to go deliver this, I would… but you know how busy these past weeks have been, and we’re all so overworked. Help me out, please?” She touches the cross hanging on her chest, identical to the one you never took off.

A symbol of your bond.

You sigh, jumping off the balcony and giving in to Rosé’s orders for the nth time. “Fine.” You mumble, grumpy. “Chaeryeong can take care of the place while I go.”

“What the fuck, Y/n!” The girl jumps from her seat, suddenly interested in the conversation as if she hadn’t spent the last five minutes scrolling on her phone, all bored. Suddenly, she’s all ears, eagerly advocating for herself, “I don’t want to do the boring stuff! Let me go with you.”

Before you’re able to tell your friend to get fucked, Rosé stops you with her hands, signaling for someone to come in.

“It’s good for you to not go alone, baby sis. Chaery can make you company.” She nods, grabbing the young girl who came in by the shoulders and positioning her in front of you and Chaeryeong. “This is Rami. She’s Mingyu’s little sister, remember? She said she could handle the diner for a few hours while the two of you are at it. Such a sweetheart, is she not?”

The girl — Rami, nods energetically, looking at your sister with adoration in her glittery eyes. It was no surprise Rosé had brought one of her little fangirls to help, actually. Living in a small city for all your life, everyone knew Rosé. She’s been a notable presence since her teenage years, whether it was attending fancy balls or setting fire to the shops downtown. The blonde girl has been remarkable for as long as you can remember. She’s always been either feared, hated, or loved, but remarkable nonetheless.

Which only proved your theory that you were not going to deliver any car pieces, after all.

You and Chaery exchanged a knowing look, neither caring enough to ask anything about this girl or explain the job she’d have to take at the Diner for free.

“Very well, then.” You sigh, watching Rosé’s excited clapping and giggling. “I’ll grab my car keys.”

Chaeryeong follows you closely, also jumping of joy. You’re well aware she hates being at the Diner, always complaining of boredom, but it isn’t like she has any other friends to go out with. Behind her bubbly, chatty, and energetic personality, she’s is actually very frail and shy, which makes her an easy target for the mean fuckers your age. She struggles, and would much rather just have a single, loyal friend. And you’ve always made sure to protect her fiercely.

“Adventure!! Finally.” The dark-haired girl raises her hands, thanking God you’d go out.

“Don’t get too excited.” You warn her, turning to Rosé. Pointing a finger at the rosy-haired woman, you add. “I hate you.”

She pulls you in for a suffocating hug, used to your harsh behavior. “And I love you so, little sis. Thank you!”

Both Rami and her wave as you and Chaeryeong leave the diner, the package weighing heavily in your hands. You don’t have a big 6th sense, but something does not feel right. Although you ignore it anyway, turning the car on and driving to the address your sister texted you.

“Do we really have to do this?” She whines, closing the passenger’s door rather roughly — to which you grunt, paying her a harsh stare for not being careful with your precious car.

She realized the whole thing would be anything but fun sometime mid the 40-minute journey to the abandoned warehouse you were currently walking into. Besides, once you reminded her that Rosé’s request would put off her wishes of going out and partying for a few hours, that little pout of hers hasn’t left her lips. Now, Chaeryeong is all regretful to have supported the older girl in her wishes.

“Not really.” You pay your friend no mind, walking towards the place that was falling into pieces. Seeing you weren’t backing her up, her pout deepened.

“It’s my birthday.” She argues, kicking rocks along the way.

“I already bought you a cake. And milkshake, and fries.” You roll your eyes, remembering how you’d all chanted your best friend happy birthday at your parents’ Diner, during breakfast. “And a shit ton of booze, throughout all these years of knowing you. You haven’t paid me back once.”

Chaeryeong sighs, hurrying to your side, defeated. You keep walking without waiting for her, making it harder for her to catch up — truly opposites, the two of you.

“Fine. But let’s do this quickly. You promised we’d still go to that party.” She decides, playfully bumping into you. Any other time, her actions would’ve helped you to be at ease, but you’re unable to relax this time. You know this is some serious shit.

“Yeah, let’s do this quick.” You repeat her words, entering the abandoned place at a slow, nearly languid pace.

Let you both be out of here in no time. You wish, once again sensing the bad omens.

The warehouse, although old, mistreated and nearly falling into pieces, is not unsettling to you. It’s merely the place Rosé sometimes treats business, and you’ve accompanied her once or twice, before. The wooden beams are rotten, and the flooring has long disappeared, fading into dust that clings to your combat boots. You’d have to clean them later, and that somehow annoys you more than the situation itself. The place is empty, with walls that were once covered by big, expensive windows, yet all that remains are tainted, broken glasses hanging wherever you could look. Machines are still forgotten in random locations inside the building, a ghost of times when the government tried to rebuild the massive area. None of that was successful, obviously. Now, this ghost of a place belongs to your father, your sister, and the other people who were also part of the darker side of this shitty town.

Only a single table hangs in the open area of the first floor, clearly meant for dealerships and businesses. Upon arriving, you notice 5 — no, nearly 10 people waiting not so patiently. Wearing dark, shabby clothes, none of them seem welcoming, to say the least. Rosé had told you’d be doing business with Wendy, a familiar customer from another small town nearby, in hopes to ease down on your nerves. It worked, in a way: having met with Wendy a few times prior, you weren’t all nervous about the upcoming meeting. She was intimidating and oh, so pretty, but you got along well with the auburn-haired woman and her business partners, from previous experiences such as charity dinners and dealerships alongside your sister’s presence.

The woman that stands in front of you, however, looks nothing like Wendy. You know her, naturally; it was impossible not to. Jinsoul’s troublemaker fame was much different than your sister’s — while Rosé’s actions, even though batshit crazy at times, are dreadfully calculated, Jinsoul’s insanity comes with the sole purpose of enticing chaos. Her unstable nature is much of a pain, you’ve personally experienced so from watching herself prove her influence on a crowd by torturing some poor girl who accidentally spilled champagne in her dress at a ceremony, or setting fire to a man’s car at one of the car rifts you often attend. Out of all the girls from her gang, Jinsoul is the least pleasant one to set off deals with.

Naturally, Rosé and Jinsoul hate each other with a passion, being two different flames of the same fire.

With all of that knowledge, you fix your posture, observing Chaeryeong do the same with your peripheral vision. Even though you absolutely despise it, you’ve been taught well how to keep a powerful, imposing façade. Standing tall, you tower over Jinsoul and her subordinates.

“I see Rosé sent her little minion, instead of herself. Must be really busy, of course.” Jinsoul doesn’t greet you, as expected. Her tone is dripping with venom as she examines you and your best friend with harsh eyes.

Now that you’re in front of her, you’re no longer hesitant or scared. Instead, you’re bothered, irritated that you have to deal with your sister’s cheap copy instead of Wendy or Joohyun. Taking a step towards the young woman, you curse Rosé under your breath, fully aware the eventful encounter is not a misunderstanding.

“Nice hair. I love the new color.” You say, leaning your head with a knowing look. Jinsoul’s hair falls a little past her shoulders, in a strawberry-blonde tone that is exactly like Rosé’s past one, from a few months prior. “I’ll tell Rosé her oldest, most faithful fan sends her regards.”

Your words seem to stir something inside the leader in front of you. She scoffs, gritting her teeth. “This is too tedious. Give me the shipment we agreed on, I’ve got better things to do anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you gesture for Chaeryeong to drop the box on the ground. She does as told, the metallic sounds of the guns moving inside. It echoes in the empty place, as the box falls onto the ground.

Jinsoul remains stoic, hands resting neatly inside her pockets, while her guards reach out for the box. Before they can touch it, though, you step on it, preventing anyone from moving.

“Give us the money first, Jinsoul. No funny business.” You stare right into her eyes, remembering the times you’ve caught her fooling around in her deals, leaving other people empty-handed. “Then you can check as much as you want.”

She laughs, knowing you’re no fool. “I see you’ve gotten wiser, Y/n. Well done.”

In a second, she’s handing you another small, compacted package. You take the money with your delicate hands, not in the least made to deal with such dirty stuff. You count it, already feeling the blood in your veins boil. Chaeryeong breaths are heavy beside you as you say. “This is not what we agreed on, Jinsoul. Stop being a whore for once and give me the other half of the fucking money.”

You and Chaery don’t need words to understand each other. She grabs the box back from the ground as soon as she sees you go rigid, holding on to it with the same look of disdain you bear.

“Oh, my dear.” Jinsoul stands close enough to grab a strand of your long fringe, knuckles brushing your jawline with feigned affection. “Your sister should know I am only faithful to the people I treat business with… and I didn’t discuss anything with you, precious.”

Turning your face, you hold Chaeryeong with one arm to prevent her from jumping on Jinsoul and beating her up.

“You bitch!” Your friend screams at her face, her voice muffled by Jinsoul’s hectic laughter as she walks away, back turned to you and Chaery in a clear show of disrespect.

Before you can go to Jinsoul yourself, her guards strike, going straight to the two of you. You manage to buckle and give them a few punches — causing a fair amount of trouble for someone who didn’t practice often at all, honestly. However, you were outnumbered, and soon enough you find yourself on the ground, punched and disheveled.

Coughing violently, you turn to see one of them kicking Chaeryeong in the guts, a few meters from you. The sight of your friend, cheerful and pure Chaery, being hurt enrages you to the core. You spit at their feet to gather all the attention to yourself.

“Don’t touch her, fucker!” You scream, breathless. They pay you no mind, having the time of their lives.

You feel something on your jacket, then. When you look ahead, Jinsoul has poured a thick, horizontal line of a viscous liquid through all of the massive warehouse. Other guards help, with gallons, but you know most of it is her doing — she loves to get her hands dirty in the business. There’s fire in her eyes, and by the time she lifts the lighter dramatically, you’re already well aware.

Gasoline.

“Goodbye, dearests! It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.” She chants, before throwing the lighter and walking away, without any rush.

You have to use both hands to stand on your fours, then on your knees. Your jacket is long thrown elsewhere as you grab Chaeryeong by back of her neck, much like a kitten. “Let’s go, and quick. Are you badly hurt?” You murmur, looking for any bad bruises on her porcelain skin. The girl shakes her head, running her hand through her bloody nose. She whimpers, and you know she’s trying her best to be strong in front of you. You give her a hug, as well as a kiss on her dirty cheek, in hopes of bringing her a little comfort. “Good. Now come.”

You hated — no, you despised Rosé for always deceiving you. Only this time, she’d pay.

Leaning on each other, the two of you go back to where you’d parked your car, in a hidden area a few minutes away from the warehouse, just as you’ve been taught to do. You take a deep breath, appreciating the humidity and the nature that ruled the place, a forgotten piece of the city. It had rained while you were inside, and you were glad for that. You loved the smell of rain, especially in nature.

On your way to the car, you spot a water tap nearby. You take Chaeryeong’s arms from your shoulders, then, opening the tap and turning to her. “Clean yourself up.”

“You’re so bossy.” She mumbles, but is quick to do as told, grabbing a hold of the water and splashing it on her face, cleaning up the dust that gathered. Chaeryeong nearly drenches her whole head, too — her pitch-black hair all shiny within minutes as the color slowly returns to her face.

While she takes the dirt off her arms and legs, you look around to check on the fire. It is still lively, a bright beacon as the night falls by, but you know it won’t spread. The place was all rotten by rust, with barely any ceiling left, so the rain would most likely put it off.

Still, Jinsoul’s message was clear, and it stung on your pride.

At least she’s always been like that, never presenting herself differently. Much different from your sister, who tells lies for breakfast.

Your mind is still clouded by troubled thoughts when Chaeryeong lets out a tired laugh, smiling once you kneel to clean up yourself. “They beat up our asses hard out there, you know.”

As much as her statement annoys the shit out of you, you’re grateful to have her cracking jokes again. Your best friend’s delicate features suit the red color on her mouth, a sign she’s well and ready for the next one.

You feel the dust gathering under your fingers and all over your skin. It’s all over you, so intensely your honey hair can be misguided as black, with how much of it is covered by dirt.

“I’ve barely noticed.”

Chaeryeong chokes in her saliva to keep herself from laughing, knowing your patience’s running thin. Even if you have the softest spot for her, she decides not to push it.

“Yes, obviously.” She nods. You think she’s finally going to be quiet, but it’s your best friend you’re talking about. Naturally, she continues. “Let’s go to the party, please?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you finish washing up, feeling refreshed and no longer too bothered. “Yes.”

You both arrive where the car is parked before she adds. “And we need fighting lessons once we get back home.”

“Chaeryeong.”

“It’s true, sorry! It is.” She raises her hands as if to keep herself from being attacked by your rage.

You limit yourself to giving her a harsh stare, and she shivers under it. You can be quite intimidating when you wish to be, especially since you’re not exactly a chatterbox.

Turning the car on, you indulge your friend’s wishes as you drive towards the party she’s been nagging you about for the whole week.

The night’s already taken over the sky once you park on the crowded street, after hours of speeding on the free road. As you hop out of the car, your thoughts go to your sister: you know the meeting with Jinsoul had been arranged all along, with her words about Wendy being merely for you to agree on doing as told. How could she fool you like that? As if you were nothing more than another dischargeable person, like many of her toys.

It’s not the first time Rosé has sent you and Chaeryeong to some skimpy situation, but knowing she was well aware of it being a clear trap all along leaves you absolutely outraged.

Even though she knew of the risks, she still sent you. You would’ve never gone, had you known it was a situation like that, and that’s the reason she didn’t warn you beforehand.

You hated Rosé’s guts.

Chaery rushes to your side once again, side-eyeing you with as little discreetness as possible — unlike yourself, she’s never been good at hiding her expressions. You don’t even attempt to smile, still mad about your earlier encounter and all that went wrong.

Not even your bubbly, cheerful best friend can lift your spirits, at the moment.

“Don’t tell me you’re still pissed, Y/n.” She shakes her arms, sighing. Her tone is serious, and you know she means it. “Come on! Live your life, and stop being so strict all the time. You deserve to have fun.” Chaery grabs you by the shoulders, lifting your chin so you’ll stare at her. “So have fun! I know it fucking sucks, but it’s done! Let’s just enjoy the night and deal with the whole problem tomorrow morning.”

You roll your eyes, knowing she’d never comprehend your feelings. As much as you love how carefree she is, you also know your personalities are too different.

You allow her to interlock your hand with hers, though, as the two of you pass the sea of cars in the direction of the crowded mansion.

“You could use a little fire within yourself too, you know.” You murmur, examining the place with harsh eyes.

The front garden alone is already impressive. Its deep green lawn is impeccable — clearly trimmed and well cared for, aligning with the lavish fountain that stands in the center and all the animals sculpted in the bushes. A cupid stands in the middle of the marble fountain, water flowing smoothly from its carved bow. You recognize the modern styling of the mansion, with plenty of massive windows that cover both floors of the house. With its wooden walls, the place has a rustic yet cozy surface. There is no doubt whoever owns such property has a great sense of style.

Even that front area is crowded, too. People nearly having public sex, others throwing up vigorously while being helped by friends, a few others just passed out on the lawn… although you’re surprised to see many groups simply drinking and chilling, leaning on their cars, too — most likely seeking an escape from the vivid music and the heat wave that must be inside. You already feel the energetic music echoing through the whole atmosphere, the rhythm reverberating through the walls and on the ground. You bite your cheek to suppress a smile, not wanting your friend to notice yet. To you, there was something appealing about attending such crowded spaces. Amidst the sea of people, you were no one: known by no one, cared for by no one. It was strangely comforting, as if a weight was going off your shoulders, and you liked it.

Interrupting your thoughts, Chaeryeong shrugs, “I mean, it’s Rosé we’re talking about. Did you seriously not expect the deal to be suspicious, to say the very least?” She sighs hard, adding. “That lying, dreadful hot bitch. I’d go to as many sneaky warehouses as she commands me to, sorry, Y/n.”

Her tone is truthful enough to have you shaking your shoulders in laughter, squeezing her hand to make her stop walking through people so fast. As a matter of fact, Chaery’s fat crush on your sister isn’t by any means new to you — going on for many years already, but it always surprises you to hear her say stuff like that.

You find it hilarious, actually, that Chaeryeong is, to this day, one of your sister’s fangirls.

“I seriously can’t believe you sometimes.” You say, although youthful spirits have been lifted. Your best friend smiles brightly at you, her button nose scrunching adorably.

“You just love me so much.”

You leave her at that, and stand by the door, making your way to the main, open area — the living room. Chaeryeong is smart and attentive, which also helps to access the whole place rather quickly. Soon enough, both of you have some kind of fancy drink in hands, and you stare at the dark-haired girl rather hesitantly.

Her bright humor and the room’s energy, bustling with excitement are enough to have you feeling much better, even a little happy yourself. Still sensing your hesitation, she brings the cup to your mouth with her small hands, both of you downing your drinks within seconds.

“Okay,” She says, looking around for anything interesting. “Now the real fun begins.”

You laugh, knowing she’s going to find some source of entertainment for the night — whether it is a pretty girl to lose herself in or a newly discovered gossip to watch and comment over like a TV series.

Chaeryeong disappears and comes back with another fancy-looking drink, stumbling and nearly falling in the process, and you quickly grab the one she hands to you, taking a small sip this time. She’s already had a handful of hers and stares at your choice of savoring the liquid with playful eyes.

“What? I would rather not pass out. That’s your role.”

“You never forget, do you? It was once, Y/n. Once. And forever ago, too! I’ve never done that again.” She huffs, bringing her free hand to her chest in a fake display of resentment.

You giggle as you hug her sideways, shutting off the older girl’s whines. She quickly steps aside, though — not wanting people to think she’s not seeking some fun, and you take the opportunity to look around, observing the inside of the mansion properly.

It’s a beautiful house — a mansion, indeed — and the first floor is nothing but lavish. The bar, where you and Chaeryeong stand, is nearly the size of the one at the Diner, filled with expensive drinks and crystal cups as the bartender — not at all like the junk places the two of you usually attend— mixes drinks with experience.

It also pleases you to see how such a person is not afraid of spending money to host a good party, even if the people enjoying it are complete strangers. The lively atmosphere of young people having fun, mixed with the grand decor of the place balanced each other well, giving a lived-in aspect to said gorgeous place.

The open area has plenty of windows, allowing you to watch the gardens and the pool, outside — even though it’s massive, there’s barely any space left in between the waters, making you gulp with disgust. It was hard for you to understand how that many people would muster the courage to get in, with so many germs and fluids certainly dirtying the once crystal-clear waters.

Looking back inside, you’re able to observe the planned furniture, which is clearly well thought out, with the wooden ceiling and the thick, marble columns. There are rugs lacking, you notice, but it is surely so they don’t stain or anything.

You wonder what the place is like during a quiet, common day. One where the only noises come from the birds, chipping and singing while flying through the trees, and the running water that drips on the pool fountain.

Besides that, it is absolutely crowded. Nearly every single space is occupied by either a couple kissing like there’s no tomorrow or people screaming and dancing, yet everyone seems to be having a nice time. The atmosphere makes you smile, surprisingly cozy on this chaotic yet lively night. That’s how you feel, specially after the prior encounters: alive.

You have to make that feeling worth it.

Time goes by fast once you’re trying to have fun.

You quickly learn so, as you drink, smoke, and dance with Chaeryeong. Even with the alcohol leaving you happy, you’re still uneasy. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being observed, no matter how many times you tell yourself that’s absolutely insane — there are people in every possible corner of the place, and no one’s paying attention to you.

However, Chaery also seems to be opposed to the logical part of your brain.

“I think you should go for it,” Your best friend tells you, after long minutes of heavily flirting with a barbie-like girl from afar.

You’re nearly sure you know that girl, actually. She’s from your hometown, most likely; her heart-shaped mouth and cherubic features are impossible to miss.

There’s nothing more like Chaery than going to a party located 2 hours away just to fuck around with the same people you’ve known since elementary school.

Your best friend turns around, filling up both of your drinks, even though yours is only halfway empty.

You frown. “Go for what?”

It’s Chaeryeong’s turn to be annoyed at you. She throws her free arm on your shoulders, gesturing to the middle of the living room area, where four good-looking girls stand with critical looks, acting like they own the place.

Which, judging by their style and the way they carry themselves, they might as well do.

Chaeryeong points in their direction with her head, never in her life subtle. “The one in the middle has not stopped staring at you ever since we’ve arrived. Ryujin, they say it’s her name.” Your friend’s excited tone grabs your attention, and you finally take a look at the small group she’s so enamored by. “I think you should go get her.”

Your friend has always had a good taste in women, and this time’s no different. They are beautiful, crushingly so, all hanging out by the long couch, circled by many people who seem to fight for an ounce of their attention. They stay disinterested, though, not paying them as much as a quick look.

One has sharp eyes, listening attentively to what a jumpy redhead and a blonde girl have to say as she sips on her Marguerita. At last, you observe the raven-haired girl Chaeryeong mentioned: she stands powerful in the middle, her sharp features giving her an intimidating look. To your surprise, she’s already staring— her dark eyes examining you with such hunger your heart starts beating rapidly as if there were no one else in the room. Electric shocks fly through your body upon her piercing gaze, and you look away immediately.

“She’s creepy.” You take a long gulp of your drink, in hopes of washing away the urge of sneaking her a glance once again.

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, nudging you. “Just how you like them.” She scoffs, then, when she realizes you won’t answer — not in the mood to indulge her little monologues. “Please, Y/n, for once in your life just—“

You interrupt your friend, taking a step back and giving her a fake smile. “I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll catch up with you soon, Chaery.” Getting away from her as fast as you can in such a crowded space, you’re still able to hear her voice as you ascend the grand staircase, screaming while raising her cup in your direction to prove her point.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE ME, Y/N! IF YOU TAKE TOO LONG, I’LL COME AND GET YOU.” You can’t help but laugh, fully knowing she means it.

Even though you escape her lecture — hearing that same discourse at least once a day ever since you can remember, you know Chaeryeong means well. It’s a matter of fact: you’ve always been the responsible one, caring and supervising others, to the point people always referred to you as “lame” or “boring”. Whether it was at the Diner, with your reckless family, or dealing with your friend’s spontaneousness, you’re unable to help it: being careful comes naturally to you, always thinking about countless opportunities for every situation possible.

Before opening many doors — the place was indeed massive, leaving you to wonder how many rooms there are — you finally find a bathroom. Without rushing, you take a deep breath, washing your face in hopes of easing your mind, too.

For the first time in many hours, you have time to truly think about the events of the day. Weariness infiltrates your bones as you grip both sides of the sink, not daring to look at yourself in the mirror. Looking at your face, your features, means staring at your sister, too. At your father, the whole dirty business you do for a living and how you’re also to blame, no matter how much you avoid taking part in it. You belong in this world, there’s no denying it.

Only you so wish you weren’t.

Sitting on the toilet, you hug your knees, waiting for the tears to come. They never do; you only feel an emptiness inside your tainted soul. Somehow, you’ve already gotten used to this entire mess. Crying and pitying yourself won’t change anything.

The door opens, and Ryujin is standing in front of you before you can make yourself look presentable. She’s as intimidating as she was from afar, her thick boots making her look taller.

“Sorry for taking so long, I needed a moment. I’ll go now.” You get up quickly, trying to brush past her as you murmur excuses for keeping the bathroom all to yourself, even though she doesn’t seem to mind.

With a hand brushing your waist, she says, tone low and husked. “It’s ok. I can take you to somewhere quieter if you’d like.” Her posture is relaxed and patient, waiting for you to answer. “Listening to loud music for too long can be a bother.”

You don’t exactly know why you agree; perhaps it’s her voice, soothing and sensual — even though you somehow know her invite is not one seeking sex, or her dark eyes, staring at you like she could undress your soul and be aware of your deepest secrets. Regardless of the motives, you feel drawn to her, almost as if she’d cast a spell on you, luring you in. So you nod, allowing yourself to enter the labyrinth of corridors as Ryujin walks by your side, without rushing. Only when the two of you stop by a black, wooden door, she turns back to you. You step inside, as the world behind you suddenly turns quiet.

You’re fully aware of the risks you’re taking. She’s a stranger, and you know nothing about each other. You should be jumpy, wary in the least.

Instead, for the first time in many years, there’s not a train of thoughts running through your head, thinking about millions of possibilities and outcomes of every little thing you’ve ever witnessed.

As you walk into the middle of the spacious room, you feel nothing but calm.

Ryujin has good taste.

You’re not stupid: you know the bedroom you’re currently in belongs to her. The walls are made of wood, carved in light brown, and most of the furniture is black, a true portrait of how she presents herself — all dark and mysterious. Her bed stands appealing in the middle, the covers undone and inviting, while numerous papers rest neatly on her desk, but it’s the content on the wall that catches your attention. A map of the country, covered with red strings and pins linking numerous places. There are names written, too, as well as keywords and small texts.

“I’m a good listener. If you’d like to, naturally.” She takes a blunt out of her pocket, gesturing to you. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” You give her a small smile in acknowledgment. “It’s your room, anyway.”

She laughs. “Smart girl.”

“I’ll pass on your invitation to listen, though.” You continue as you stare at her closely, curious about how she’d react. Her blazer made her shirt ride up, revealing part of her toned abdomen, and you can’t help but ogle, mouth dry at the sight.

God, she’s so hot, sitting casually like that. “As you wish. No problem.” Ryujin doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, which provides you with enough confidence to start looking around again.

A black wooden bookshelf catches your attention, standing on the opposite side of the windows and the balcony, and you’re appalled by how vast it is. It nearly occupies the entire wall, with numerous books. It’s the only part of the room that has any color besides black, brown, or white, and the books all seem pretty worn out. You brush your fingers through the shelves, lost in paradise.

“Do you expect us to fuck?” You don’t turn to face her as you ask, without shame. Strangely, you feel like you could tell her whatever you wanted to.

She shrugs, adjusting her pillows so she’d lie comfortably, looking rather small in the massive bed. The words leave her mouth so casually like nothing was ever complicated. “If you'd like to, maybe.” Her eyes travel to your body, and you shiver, once again feeling exposed. “You’re pretty. You have a beautiful body, too. So, sure.”

“Why did you bring me here, then? If not to fuck.” You murmur, eyeing her as your fingers brush a specific book, waiting for her permission.

You take it from its place once she nods, freeing the smoke from her lungs. The Waves, highlighted and annotated.

“You looked as if you had many thoughts going on in your head.” She runs her hand through her shiny, pitch-black hair, casually. “This is my quiet place. I figured you could use a little peace for a while, too.”

She was so right. From the time you entered her room, you felt nothing but peace, as if your emotional turmoil had cooled down for a few moments.

Maybe it was the calming energy Ryujin emanates or the way she looks at you so curiously. Anyway, you decide she’s worth it.

You were not exactly fond of meeting new people, much less welcoming them into your life. You didn’t feel the need to add anyone — you could barely keep up with the amount of drama you had, with not that many people. You have a best friend, a father, a stepmother, grandparents, a sister, and her friends who were your acquaintances. Not a massive crowd, but just enough for you.

However, you feel the need to let this girl in, too.

Jumping on the bed, you don’t stop until you’re near enough to feel the warmth of the blunt Ryujin holds. You lean on your elbows, facing down whilst she’s facing up, hands behind her head to support herself as she stares at the ceiling.

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.” You say, determined not to feel threatened by her piercing gaze and those midnight eyes that carry such mystery.

Ryujin laughs, shaking the hand you offer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. I’m Ryujin.”

She stares back, her eyes undressing you as if she’s the keeper of all your secrets. You look away. She laughs again.

Your mind wanders to Chaeryeong’s words, always eager to talk about how you should take more risks and live freely. Perhaps she’s right; you should stop worrying too much and overthinking every single thing.

You snuggle yourself even closer to Ryujin, still deciding. “But are you good?”

She frowns, turning to you. “Probably. But good at what, exactly?”

“In bed, obviously.” You roll your eyes. “Are you a good fuck?”

Being so close to her allows you to see the switch your words provoke. Her eyes darken, and she fixes her posture, no longer carefree and unbothered. No… the girl whose eyes roam over your body is far from inviting or calming. She’s powerful, just as you watched her present herself downstairs, earlier at night. With strong hands, she grabs one of your thighs, bringing you so close you’re able to play with the collar of her silk shirt.

“Why do you ask, Y/n?” Ryunjin’s hands brush your neck in a careful motion, tucking your hair away so she’s able to run her nose through your skin. One look at her, and you know she enjoys toying with you like that too much.

As she must do with anyone, you suppose.

“Well…” You look down, although still leaning at her touch. “‘Cause I want you to fuck me, of course. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be asking.”

She doesn’t mind your impatient tone but doesn’t touch you either, even after your words. If anything, she just keeps staring at your body, as if imagining all the things she’d do.

“And how would I do that, exactly?” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a defiant answer when she grabs you by the chin, ever so gently. “Make sure to be clear with your words, my angel.”

And it’s that tone once again — so low-pitched and raspy, that makes you gulp, barely breathing under the enchanting, mysterious girl’s touches. Besides being in control at all times: when you’ve decided to accompany Ryujin to her bedroom, when initiating this battle of desire… you finally come to realize how different it is, this once. This time, Ryujin’s question presents itself as a warning, its meaning loud and clear even though it was unsaid. If you agreed to this, she would be the one in control. She’d take as much as she pleased, however, you wished her to do.

Something that is so appealing to you. Not because you feel the need to let go; no, you’ve done much of that throughout all of your life — being your family’s pawn, toy, and little doll to show off to other powerful families, making a profit over the image of perfection.

No, Ryujin’s offer is appealing simply because you’re curious to see what she’d do to you. You feel drawn to her, with a sudden urge to be under her touch, to have her inside of you.

You want her to do the most unspeakable, filthy things to your body, bringing you enough pleasure to fuck you dumb, until all of your worries are washed away and long gone.

Her. You want her.

So you stand on your knees, taking your time with unclasping your bra and throwing your shirt off the ground, long hair flowing gracefully as you move, cascading down your hips. It’s only once you’re done that you speak, long after letting her watch as you make a show out of the small act.

“I want you to pleasure me.” You say, with a voice just as lustrous as hers. “I’m sure you’ve been spoiled enough in sex. Prove it to me, then. And if you’re good enough, maybe I’ll satisfy you, too.”

She smiles, exposing her canine teeth as she watches you crawl to her. Within seconds, you’re between her legs, her mouth hot and wet on your clavicle — then wasting no time to go to your breasts, as she kisses and sucks on your skin. Making sure to bruise, to mark her presence. Territorial.

“Your wish is my command, angel of mine.” She murmurs, breath warm on your skin.

Ryujin’s taste is bitter, much like poison. Still, her lips are addicting, and it’s easy to lose yourself in between the sultry kisses you share. Your skin, your insides — you’re on fire, so turned on it burns.

Her hands, skilled and lithe, wander through your body, squeezing and groping as she pleases. Such a tease, she is. You can easily tell how delighted she is to be able to take her time, caressing the insides of your thighs as you huff, impatient. She’s so close, yet so far from where you need her. Your cunt aches, sticky and needy for something, anything.

Yearning for release after such a stressful day, you feel your body trembling with anticipation. Soon enough, you’re under her, both of your clothes long thrown on the ground. It’s hard not to blush with how she’s looking at your naked body, licking her lips as she spits, a long trail of saliva going from her fingers to your wet cunt.

You need more of her. Desperately.

Tugging her hair, you let out a loud whine. “You’re so mean, Ryujin.”

“I am.” Her answer comes immediately, as she lowers her body until her mouth is close to your pussy. She brushes the hair away from her face, eyes still heavily focused on your dripping cunt. Ryujin cups your ass, one of your legs resting on her shoulder as she brings your sex as close to her face as possible. Her eyes are starstruck, long-lost in your body as she parts your folds before giving your cunt a messy, wet kiss.

Her actions are more than enough to turn you into a withering mess: her mouth is everywhere, working her way inside of your walls with such vigor you feel so full, your troubled thoughts long forgotten. She works wonders, her tongue teasing your entrance and alternating between lapping on your clit, circling your hardened bud as you moan, squirming almost desperately. You’ve never been this sensible, yet Ryujin reverberates all of her actions through your body harder than usual — even the mere brush of her fingers has her holding your thighs firmly, to keep you from moving so much and closing your legs away.

Incoherent words leave your mouth so fast that you’d be ashamed if you were able to think about anything. Your long nails scratch her bare back in random patterns, leaving her skin so red you close your hands in a sudden wave of consciousness, shy as you bring them to your chest.

She stops too, ignoring your whines as she looks up to you with a serious face, her mouth swollen and glistening with your juices. “If you stop, I’ll stop.” She grabs your hands, placing them on her once again. It’s so sweet, somehow delicate how she handles you, much different from the way she acts with anyone else. “Don’t hold yourself back.”

You nod, gulping. She has two of her fingers aligned with your slit, spreading your juices through your pussy with that little smug smile of hers before easing them inside. They slide in easily, the gushing sounds filling the room along with your voice. “Ryujin… oh f-fuck!”

“Touch your nipples.” Ryujin commands, mouth closing against your clit once again. She licks and applies a weak suction, not yet enough to overstimulate you. You’re long gone, though, incapable of forming any thoughts on your pretty head, let alone following any commands. She knows it, which is the reason her hands grope your tits with strength, massaging. “You’re sensitive, angel. Touch them for me, will you?”

It seems to work, this time. You mumble a response to her patient tone, hands going straight to your nipples as you cup your breasts. They weren’t exactly big, but certainly not small either. If you squeezed them tightly — as you were currently, doing, you could fit them in your hands. Biting your lip, you flick your thumbs through the hardened buds, circling your areolas as your fingers twist and pinch your nipples.

The action sends a shock of electricity through your body, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Good girl, Y/n. God, your tits are so pretty. You look so pretty like this, doing so good for me.” You barely register her words, although it doesn’t seem necessary; if anything, Ryujin seems to be speaking to herself. She lifts her head, fingers thrusting in even deeper as she judges the bruises on your hips with hard eyes. Her voice is different, too, serious as she adds, “Must’ve been a tough day, hm? You’re all bruised, my love. And I haven’t given you any of these.”

“Something like that, I guess.” You murmur, closing your eyes to focus on how good she is making you feel.

She kisses each one of your bruises with delicacy, looking somehow annoyed. Her brows are furrowed, and her lips are pouty, making it easy to tell she’s lost in thought. Because of her reaction, you lift her chin, cocking your head to the sides as you try to figure her out. It seems to wake her up from her trance, instead. Ryujin takes your fingers and sucks, staring at you while her tongue wets your index and thumb just as she was doing to your pussy, moments prior.

This girl’s going to be the death of you.

Her attention returns to your cunt, swollen and red, as she fastens the thrusts on your slit. It hits deep, each movement bringing you closer to the orgasm you ache for. A third finger is added, then, and you feel yourself close to the edge. Ryujin must’ve felt your muscles clenching, too, since she’s quick to give your clit one last, deep suck.

It feels like there’s no air left in the room. The pleasure that was building up in your lower abdomen explodes, with violent waves of pleasure erupting and giving you the best sensation you’ve ever felt. It’s ecstatic, as if thousands of fireworks live in every little space of your body. You feel spectacular, but more than that, you feel alive. With a high cry, you cum, Ryujin’s fingers still working their way inside, helping you ride out from your orgasm. She’s careful to not touch your clit, just staring at your fucked out face as your chest moves rapidly, trying to even your breathing.

After a few minutes, you squirm, expecting her to distance herself and stop touching your cunt.

It’s not what happens, though — in a blink, she’s all over you, working her way up your body with wet kisses until your lips meet once again in a messy kiss.

“You’re relaxed now, right?” She says, sucking on your lower lip. “And you were so perfect, angel. It’s my turn. Can you give me one more? Do you think you can do it for me?”

Suddenly, you’re all hot again, as her fingers thrust into you deeper and deeper. You’re dizzy, more than happy to drink on her and let her drive you into pleasure as she says so.

“R-ryujin…” You chant her name, clinging to the girl.

It doesn’t take you long to cum, this time. The orgasm that drags through your body is strong but slow, leaving you full in more ways than you’ll ever be able to describe.

“So good.” She says, hands tight on your waist and caressing your abdomen, with no rush at all. “You’re doing so good, Y/n.”

Your cunt feels empty without her fingers inside, pussy swollen and pleased. Even though she’s right by your side, you miss her, reaching out for her touches. She’s more than eager to comply, holding you close as she kisses the top of your head, brushing the long strands of hair away from your face.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped up in a warm bubble that has you completely in peace. Your muscles relax, and you feel the tiredness in your bones, pleading for sleep. It’s easy to get lost in Ryujin’s arms, forgetting your duties and obligations until your mind is filled with her.

Just as quickly, you’re thrown back into reality by the doorknob — it’s forced from the outside, although the door doesn’t move, thankfully locked. It’s most likely someone drunk, searching for a place to have fun with someone, but the action is enough for you to remember the reason you’ve attended such a party: an energetic girl with dark hair and the worst sense of humor you’ve ever seen, who was probably worried sick about you and cursing your entire existence.

With that in mind, you get up, grabbing your dispersed clothes on the floor and putting them on. Ryujin’s stare is attentive, following your every move. She’s still comfortable in her bed, not bothering to cover herself as she reaches out for the blunt on her nightstand.

“You can stay, if you’d like.” Her voice has a special effect on you. It makes your body relax instantly, and you breathe in. “Enjoy the quietude. There’s no need to run away.”

“I’m not running away.” You frown, somehow bothered that she thinks so. Grunting, you clarify, “I’d like to… hum, continue this. But my friend’s been waiting for long now. She must be going crazy, thinking I’ve been kidnapped or something. I have to take care of her.”

“Why so?” There it is. That smirk, the air of superiority that adds to Ryujin’s strong façade. It’s almost as if she’s mocking you, playing with her words. “Is she a child? Or just so stupid she can’t take care of herself…”

Your face reddens, and you finish tying your shoes just as quickly as you turn to her, both hands gripping her bed frame so you’re able to jerk your body forward. “Chaeryeong’s not stupid. Watch your fucking mouth.”

People could say anything they wanted about you. In fact, they already did — ever since you were little and your mother had left, people judged and made assumptions about your life. It was impossible not to be a target, with a family like yours, handling the business that you do. It did hurt, at the beginning, but you’ve eventually figured it out: people talked about everyone, and you weren’t special. They were so miserable and uninteresting that they’d criticize every single little thing, no matter how invisible you tried to be. It’s just how they were.

However, any words directed at your best friend are enough for you to get into messy fights. No one was allowed to talk shit about her. Not cheerful, bright Chaeryeong, who had the biggest, cutest smile and the purest intentions in her heart. You’d never allow it.

Seeing how serious you were, Ryujin’s smile dropped. She tapped her blunt in the ashtray, careful to not let the dust spill. “You’re right, she’s not. I apologize.” Although she doesn’t look sorry at all. It’s as if everything is a big joke to her; which, with such a lavish house, you know it most likely is.

Rich people are always assholes.

Humming, you roll your eyes as you try to fix your hair, failing terribly. It’s still as wild as ever, stubbornly fighting your fingers when you run your hands through its entire length, in attempts of detangling something. The subject’s been brushed off when she speaks again, breaking the silence without any awkwardness. “Yeji is keeping an eye on her, anyway. So you don’t need to fry your neurons and die of preoccupation.”

It’s awkward — you’re awkward, meanwhile, the girl looks completely at ease as she takes another hold of smoke into her lungs, naked in all her glory. God, she’s so hot; her muscles are defined, and she’s simply beautiful, like a fallen angel. It takes all of you to not fall down on your knees immediately, begging to eat her out and make her scream in pleasure like she’s done to you. But you’re also tired, and you really need to let your friend know you’re alive and well. There’s nothing more that you hate than being a bother, so you can’t let her alone, wondering if you’ve forgotten about her presence.

“You really are good.” You stare at your hands, letting out a faint giggle. It’s amazing how suddenly shy you are, given how you were begging just minutes prior. “A good fuck, I mean. You are.” In a blink, you’re by the door, gripping the doorknob with an unnecessary amount of strength. “I hope to return the favor, someday.”

“Someday.” She says, tone enigmatic as ever. You’ve noticed she’s annoyingly good at hiding her expressions, always with a bored look on her face. “See you, Y/n.”

You don’t say anything else as you leave the room, losing yourself in the labyrinth of corridors without looking back.

Turns out Chaeryeong is still at the same place she was when you left, thankfully. She jumps into your arms as soon as she sees you, sighing in relief. “I’m going to kill you! Where have you been? I looked everywhere!”

You hold her firmly by the waist, her voice a few quarters higher than usual. Chaery might not be tall, but in this drunken state, she’s heavy, nearly dragging both of you to the ground. She laughs uncontrollably, happy to have you by her side once again.

“The bathroom line was too long.” You lie, taking the drink from her hands as you take a sip. It’s strong, provoking a nauseous sensation that you ignore as you swallow it down.

The lie comes naturally, not because you feel like you have to hide what happened from your best friend, but simply because you find yourself too tired to explain. She’s going to make you repeat yourself as soon as she sobers up again, anyway.

She knows it, though. “Liar! You were doing something.” The girl narrows her eyes, a confused expression on her face as she brushes the hair away from your neck. “Where’d you get a new necklac— Y/n! You dirty whore!”

You can’t help but laugh as she examines the hickeys Ryujin left on your skin, mouth opened in a big “O” — slightly pushing her off you. Chaeryeong stumbles, hitting the wall with her shoulders as she tries to gather her balance.

“I’ll tell you about it later, okay? M’ too tired right now.” You promise, not giving her drink back once she reaches out for it.

Chaeryeong doesn’t seem to mind, jumping up and down in excitement. She grabs you by the shoulders, shaking your body with a smile that nearly covers her entire face. “My girl’s getting some game, wow! I’m so happy for you, Y/n! You have no idea. Do you know how many times I wished you got someone? I seriously thought you were going to turn into a nun or something.”

“Hey!” You protest, “I’m not a prude! The last time I had kissed someone was like, last month or something.”

Chaery stops jumping, thankfully. She pays no mind to your grumbling, twirling, and moving along with the blasting music’s rhythm. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

You eye her with narrowed eyes, but she stops all of her movements before you can give her a sneaky response. Her face pales, and she gulps deeply.

“Are you okay, Chaery?” No response. Chaeryeong’s eyes are fixated on the wall behind you, the colorful lights and blasting music from the living room surely doing nothing but overwhelming her even more.

“Yeah.” She looks up, sighing. “Just felt this sudden urge to t—“ The way she covers her mouth is enough of a sign, for you. Acting quickly, you pull her to the gardens, as Chaeryeong tries her best to not jerk her body forward. It’s immediate: she throws up as soon as she finds a bush to lean on, the effects of the alcohol, adrenaline, and visual stimulation from the party getting to her organism.

“I guess you kept your drinking game high while I was busy?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood. It works, you can tell Chaery’s laughing by the way her small shoulders move. She gives you a thumbs up, too, her face still shoved in between the leaves. “Okay. Are you good to be by yourself for a few moments? I’ll get you some water, then I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.” Your friend manages to say, lying down on the grass. Her hair is all messy, and her face remains pale. “I’m fine now, though. 100%.”

 “I’m still getting you the water.” You get up from where you were kneeling, too, rushing towards the kitchen entry with hurried steps.

You’re not too worried, though. This wasn’t exactly an unusual situation — sometimes Chaeryeong would drink too much, too fast… sometimes you would. It was a pain in the ass, naturally, and you’d always wake up deeply hungover the next day, but it wasn’t something to be deeply preoccupied with.

Humming to yourself, you open the fridge, in hopes of finding a bottle of fresh water. It was better than going to the bar set in the lively living room and asking for one, anyway. You barely notice a girl standing next to you, handing exactly what you’re looking for. She’s one of Ryujin’s friends, you reckon — her sunset, pin-straight hair compliments her features effortlessly, as her hypnotizing eyes stare at you attentively.

You know a judgmental look when you see one. This one’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“For your pretty friend.” She says, waiting patiently for you to take the bottle from her hands. You do, still silent, yet your lack of enthusiasm doesn’t scare her away. She keeps babbling, not minding you at all. “I hope she feels better.”

It’s as though she knows something you don’t, and the hidden mockery in the air leaves you uneasy.

“Thanks…” You murmur, playing with the bottle in your hands. Before you brush past her to return to your friend, she adds.

“—Yeji. That’s my name.” Yeji tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, waving you goodbye with feigned innocency. “Bye, Y/n. Make sure Chaeryeong arrives home safely.”

Chaery’s had an eye on her earlier, nearly fucking her from afar while you were in your own world, lost in thoughts. They probably had some fun before you came back to your friend, that’s all.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you lean next to Chaeryeong again, trying to ease the knot in your stomach as you give her the plastic bottle.

“Here, don’t drink it all at once.” You say, chuckling as the girl nearly drowns herself in the water, desperate to get rid of the bitter taste in her mouth. “It’s been a long day, Chaeryeong. Let’s go home.”

She gladly takes the hand you offer, groaning as she shakes the remains of grass from her pants. “I had fun, though. Today was a fun day, Y/n. Did you have fun too?”

There’s mischief all over her face, making it impossible for you to feel down. It’s her gift, being able to lift your spirits with her lame jokes and energetic nature.

“Of course, Chaery. I always have fun when I’m with you.” You nod.

Your words please her, and she leans her head against your shoulder as you make your way to the car, side by side.

It’s late, and you’re tired. You’d handle it all in the morning.

Despite the weariness that penetrates thick in your bones, you’re punctual as always, doodling in your journal by the counter as the sun fights its way up against the messy fog of the morning. It’s a routine you’ve been doing ever since you were a teenager: going out, partying, and going to so many places until dawn, while still showing up to work at the Diner in the following morning.

You’d get some rest, eventually. For now, the four hours of sleep you had were enough to keep you up, somehow. Besides, Saturday mornings are always some of the slowest days at the place, with hardly anyone coming for breakfast. People liked to sleep in, trying to gather all the hours they’ve lost from having to wake up early for work, you guess — which is why the place is empty, no customers to be seen.

There’s a hard slam on the corner, and you lift your eyes to follow the sound. You’re greeted by Rosé: her baby-pink hair is even messier than usual, and her leather jacket seems to be the only thing protecting her from the chilly weather. It does little to ease her, though — Your sister’s shorts expose her legs, dirty and scratched. At least her crop top is thick, the black clothing making her seem even more intimidating. And she smells of smoke, instead of her usual cologne.

“You look like shit.” You’re the first to break the silence, as your eyes return to your sketch. It’s not an easy thing to do, but you try your best to act indifferent to your sister’s piercing stare. “I’m taking you haven’t had any sleep at all.”

She’s fuming, you know that. Somehow, Rosé’s cold attitude is much worse than her red fire. Her quietness scares you, as it should. It’s never a good sign.

“Have you ever been anything other than useless, all your life?” She spits, and her words hurt, no matter how long you’ve mentally prepared yourself to have that talk, ever since you left the warehouse. “I asked you to do one thing, Y/n. One fucking thing, and you managed to fuck it all up! God, you’re such a failure.”

Your mouth is dry, all of your courage going down the drain as you stare at the woman in front of you. Suddenly, you’re a little kid again, playing your part as Rosé’s little doll so you’d receive a smile, a praise, anything from her. You’d do anything to get her to acknowledge you, having to fight for her attention like everyone else.

But not anymore.

She hits the counter again, visibly enraged. You shove your finger at her chest, fighting back before she destroys you with her words — like she’s so good at.

“And you’re a fucking liar! Fuck you, Rosé. You fucking lied to me, saying we’d meet Wendy because you knew damn well I’d say no to dealing with Jinsoul. And you know what? I was fucking right!” Saying the words out loud is enough to give you courage. When you speak again, your tone is low, sharp like she’d taught you. “We could’ve gotten seriously hurt out there, Rosé. And you were fully aware of that when you sent us into that fucking trap! You’re in no position to demand anything.”

Rosé runs her hands through her hair, and you can tell she’s exhausted, too. She’s always hidden things from you, so it’s impossible to know what’s going on in her life. Although you can’t bring yourself to care, anymore.

“We need that money, Y/n!” She shouts, exasperated. If her stare could burn, you’d be long dead. “How do you think things work, huh? Who do you think is paying for that fancy college of yours — our house, the food we eat every day? It’s me! I provide for us, with that dirty money you hate so much. So wake up! Fucking idiot. Stop being such a burden and help, for once.”

You know it’s true. Even though your father is supposedly the one in charge, Rosé is the true leader. Needless to say, you’re grateful for all of those things.

Which doesn’t make Rosé any less of an asshole.

“You’re a shit sister.” You lean on the chair, your icy tone placing a blunt contrast to her fiery screams. “And an absolutely horrible person. I despise you.”

A flash of hurt passes through Rosé’s eyes, so fast you wonder if you’ve imagined it. But as fast as it happens, it’s over with. Instantly, her defenses are up again, and your sister looks down on you, rolling her eyes as she crosses her arms in the middle of her chest.

“You’re tiring me.” She huffs, her tone making it clear she is done with the conversation. Rosé leans on the counter and shoves your shoulders on a punch before storming away, slamming the entry door loudly. “I’m going out, to clean the mess you’ve made. Like always.”

Tears start to cloud your vision as you watch her hop on her car, the roaming of the engines making her feelings clear enough for anyone to understand. She’s an asshole, you know it; but it’s hard to not be upset by her lack of care towards you. You long for her approval and affection, getting anything other than that is enough to leave you deeply hurt.

It’s frustrating, to feel like that over such a shitty situation. You don’t even know if the tears you shed come from sadness or from anger, as you brush them away from your face.

A lithe figure hits the window to grab your attention, and you’re deeply surprised to see Ryujin barging in, walking towards you in confident steps. She chooses the table closest to you, resting her arms over the chairs next to hers.

“Good morning, Y/n.” She says, completely comfortable.

“Morning.” You can’t help but frown, confused. At least her presence offers enough of a distraction from your actual problems. “What are you doing here, Ryujin?”

Ryujin smiles, her eyes small and dazed, so pretty it should be a crime. The rays of weak sunlight brighten her face, making her seem almost innocent. Much different from the night prior. “I heard this place had great food, so I came to check. I woke up pretty hungry, you know.”

“Sure.” You hum, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I’ll have some waffles, pancakes, and coffee. Black, and with no sugar, please.” She says, after looking at the menu. You nod, making your way to the kitchen as quickly as possible, in hopes of escaping her intense stares.

It’s unsettling, how you’re able to feel her gaze burning holes on your back. The sensation takes you back to the night prior, a tingling sensation looking for a place in your core. You push it away, opening the double doors of the cooking area.

“Yoona unnie?” You look for the woman, watching her put her phone down to pay you attention. Smiling, you hand her a small note. “We have a customer.”

“Oh, so early! No one comes on Saturdays.” She mumbles, peeking out behind you to spot Ryujin, who stares at the road in boredom. “I’ll prepare it quickly. Meanwhile, you can go entertain her.”

You laugh at Yoona’s suggestion, shaking your head. “I’d rather wait here, with you.”

Yoona’s face turns serious, as she points at you. “No one is allowed in the kitchen while I cook. Goodbye, Y/n.” You grumble, having no choice but to go back to Ryujin while the woman pushes you out the doors.

Having coffee without any sugar is a trait reserved for psychopaths, which you think suits Ryujin well. You pour her drink in your favorite mug, before returning to her table.

“I thought you also cooked.” The raven-haired girl stands when you approach, promptly pulling the chair in front of herself.

She gestures for you to sit, and you frown, ready to argue that you are still working. The knowing look she gives you is enough to make you sit down, obedient.

“I can’t cook to save my life.” You explain, giggling to cover the shame of having to admit such a fact. “Yoona does it effortlessly, though. Her pastries are the best.”

Ryujin nods, scrunching her nose as she looks around. “And where’s your friend, may I ask?” Her smirk turns playful, pointy canines exposed at you. “Are you not taking care of her right now?”

“She’s not a child, right? She can take care of herself.” Although you play along in her game — repeating what she’d told you the day prior, you’re also quick to add. “Besides, she’s sleeping right now. Chaery always sleeps until late after a party.”

“Lucky her.” Ryujin whistles, and you agree. You wish you could sleep like your best friend, too. Not only did Chaeryeong often sleep until late at noon, but she’s also the heaviest sleeper you’ve ever met, unlike yourself. You envy her ability to sleep through literally anything possible.

Yoona calls for you to get Ryujin’s order, which you quickly do. The dishes look impeccable once you place them on the table. Yoona never misses.

It wasn’t rare to have customers who came by themselves, with the desire to have a moment of peace and enjoy their meals. With that in mind, you motion to leave, leaving Ryujin alone to do just that. She surprises you by grabbing your hand, ever so gently.

“This one’s for you, actually.” She pushes the pancake plate in your direction, hand still holding on to yours. Her fingers trace gentle circles in your palm. “Would mind joining me? I hate to eat alone.”

Leaving you without words is, apparently, one of Ryujin’s many talents. Once again, you feel drawn to her, incapable of saying no. It’s something in her eyes, you suppose; the way she stares at you, attentive, from the moment you first met each other. She acknowledges every little detail about you, and most importantly, she listens. You didn’t know someone could understand you entirely like that — it’s both thrilling and scary, to know you’re so aligned.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You murmur, and she shakes her head, in a clear sign that you don’t.

The two of you eat, soon engaged in lively conversation. It’s a pleasant surprise, to know Ryujin is much more than a pretty, intimidating face: she’s smart, funny, and very attentive. You both enjoy the same books, and she’s respectful and mindful when sharing her perspective about topics you disagree on. Time flies, and you find yourself comfortable in her presence.

Getting you to talk about yourself is difficult — even Chaeryeong has to ask repeatedly to get information from you. You just can’t help it: being raised to be a discreet, private person has created the habit of bottling up your emotions, and hiding things until you couldn’t handle them anymore.

However, the words flow freely with Ryujin. You want to share about your life, your hobbies, the people you love… it’s just somewhat easy when it comes to her.

And she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Far from that, Ryujin drinks from you: acknowledging every little detail about yourself, enchanted and marveled.

You barely notice how quickly you’ve eaten breakfast, not even a small bite left. Ryujin is surprised, too, to not have noticed either. You’ve distracted her and knocked down her defenses without even meaning to do so.

“Okay, so I might’ve come here with a purpose…” She says, and you shake your head. Of course, she did. “In my defense, I found this on my bedside table, a little after you left, and it looked pretty fancy to just keep to myself.”

In her hands, there’s a cross necklace, shining in bright silver. Your fingers go to your neck unconsciously, in hopes of touching the one you kept with yourself at all times — only to hold on to the air, instead. You grasp, bile bundling up in your stomach at the thought of the hours you’ve spent without your precious necklace.

As soon as you reach out for it, Ryujin holds the jewelry away from your hands.

“May I?” She unclasps the lock, gesturing to where it should be rested.

You nod, eager to have your necklace back. Holding your hair away from your face, you turn around, waiting for her. Her breath is hot on the back of your neck, and for a moment, you think she might kiss you. Instead, she takes a step back, a proud look on her face as she runs her thumb against the bruises on your collarbone. “There. All done, angel.”

“Thank you.” The words that leave your mouth are sincere, and you can’t muster how grateful you truly are. “I… Thank you, really. This is so important to me. How can I repay you?”

No matter how much you might hate Rosé at the current moment, that necklace means everything to you. It reminds you of a time when things were less complicated. When you were too young to understand what was truly going on in your life, lost in the innocence of childhood.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ryujin brushes it off, getting up quickly. She drops some money on the table, definitely much more than what she’s ordered. “We’ll see each other soon. Bye, Y/n. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Just as fast as she appeared, Ryujin’s gone. Leaving you to wonder what’s underneath all that mysterious façade, you go back to your chores, unable to brush the raven-haired girl off from your thoughts.

—

Rosé’s been having one hell of a week. Weeks, or even a month.

As if dealing with her family’s business wasn’t enough, with people constantly waiting for an opportunity to betray her and plan their downfall, this new gang that’s been stealing all her clients and supplies has been pissing her off in ways she didn’t deem possible. And now, she has your stupid feelings to worry about. God, you’re so damn sensitive it drives her crazy.

“Rosie?” Lisa’s voice reminds the woman she’s in the middle of a meeting — one she called herself. “What’s going on? You’ve been distracted ever since you walked through the door.”

“Yeah. This fucking sucks, but don’t fret too much. It’s not like we’ve not dealt with situations like those before. Those bitches will get what they deserve.” Jisoo says, in an attempt to soothe Rosé’s nerves. Her tone is excited — perhaps too much.

She’s always been a little masochist.

They’re right, which only makes Rosé more frustrated. She should be planning her revenge, not pouting over a stupid fight.

“I know, it’s just—“ She sighs. “Never mind. Let’s get this over with.”

They all nod, chatting vividly, but Rosé’s phone lights up before she’s able to join the conversation. There’s a message from an unknown number, which is unusual.

The content of it is what unsettles her the most. Her mouth dries and the air runs from her lungs as she stares at the image sent — A picture of you, boobs covered by someone’s arms and bare waist filled with bruises.

The message under it says Thank you for the guns and the snack. I’ll make sure to come back for more, later.

It doesn’t have a slight indication of who sent it, but Rosé doesn’t need a confirmation. She knows exactly who did.

“Jennie!” She screams, even though the girl is not far away from herself, sitting by the long table in the dining room. “Grab the stuff immediately. We’ll do this at my house, instead.” And so she turns, barging orders as she goes.

No one’s going to use her little sister as bait and live.

This newcomer might’ve had a few strikes of beginner's luck, but Rosé’s patience had run thin. She wouldn’t tolerate any insolences anymore, no.

She’ll have Ryujin’s head.

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tsukimefuku · 6 months

Text

bread for breakfast ꕥ higuruma hiromi

summary: hiromi decides to walk down to his favorite bakery before heading to morioka and ends up bumping into nanami.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, higuruma x reader, implied past nanami x reader, angst, hurt with no comfort, a talk between two characters i like a lot.

wc: 1.2k

notes, etc.: i began writing this to the sound of sayonara bye bye, by mawatari motsuko, and wound up finishing it to the sound of back to the old house, by the smiths. so yeah, that should be an indication of the feels this relates to.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au"

→ masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

Hiromi walked down the street holding the sunflower you gave him on one arm, carrying a small duffle bag with some clothes in the other. He walked slowly, dragging himself along, defeated and looking down, trying to distract his mind from the break-up.

Especially from the recent memory of your asleep face as he stepped out of the room for one last time, and out of your life for God knows how long.

How long?

He shook his head involuntarily. Hiromi didn't want to even spare a thought on this matter, considering everything else was a private hell in and of itself.

I should have put this flower inside a bag, he thought for a moment. Hiromi managed to leave most of it all at his former apartment, but he couldn't leave the sunflower you gave him, as much as he wanted to — he knew the mere sight of it every day would be painful, but he figured it was better than having no piece from your story at all by his side.

The sorcerer had decided to eat something for breakfast, and slowly but surely made his way towards the bakery he had been at sometimes before. This was where he wanted to have his last Tokyo meal before heading to Morioka. Maybe they still have that ciabatta with pesto…

Still on an uncertain stride, it really took every fiber of his being to not turn around and run back to his apartment and throw himself into bed with you, to not snuggle his face against your hair, embracing your waist, giving up on this stupid, idiotic endeavor. His heart pounded achingly against his chest, even if his tired expression showed no indication of pain.

Hiromi didn't turn back, though, thanks to and because of you.

Upon entering the bakery, however, he was taken by surprise — a surprise he didn't really know if it was welcome or not at this very moment.

About to exit the vicinity, the ratio sorcerer held a paper bag of baguettes with a cup of coffee on one side, and had a small bag with his morning sandwich on the other.

"Higuruma?"

"Good morning, Nanami" he exhaled, feeling a weird vulnerability stinging under his skin at the sight of a familiar face. Hiromi wasn't ready to meet anyone before heading out, and intended to smooth over the details of his departure from Tokyo with Gojo through the phone.

They stood there for a few moments, and Nanami noticed Hiromi seemed beaten up underneath the surface. The man had huge bags under his eyes and avoided making direct eye contact, unconsciously clutching the sunflower against his chest. Hiromi was carrying himself with a put-upon expression.

"Can I offer you a cup of coffee?" Nanami inquired, stepping aside to ease people's way inside and out of the small business.

"I…" Hiromi pondered, before nodding silently.

***

They were both seated at a tiny coffee table, and Hiromi was unconsciously rubbing his thumb against the sunflower's vase, that now laid on top of his bag.

After explaining to Nanami all that had happened these past few days, especially why he had chosen to leave Tokyo and go to Morioka, Hiromi sighed, waiting for a lecture from his colleague.

However, the lecture never came.

"I see," Nanami acquiesced, "and hope it all goes well for you."

Hiromi scoffed, somewhat disappointed.

"I was hoping you'd lecture me for this, just to give me a final push into changing my mind about leaving."

"You seem to have your mind made up about everything. There's nothing I could say to change your resolution about it."

The former lawyer sighed, and remained silent for a while, as he rolled his now empty cup of coffee on the tips of his fingers.

"You don’t have to leave," Nanami noted. "You could try aiding your former office colleagues from a distance."

"But I do have to leave, though. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be myself," Hiromi stated, "the same way that you wouldn’t be yourself if you hadn't tried to push her away for what you thought would be her own good."

"Hm… What?"

That definitely took Nanami by surprise, and he straightened himself on his chair, clearing his throat, somewhat jarred by the blunt sincerity and situational clarity Hiromi just hit him with. Also, the ratio sorcerer was a little taken aback with the fact that Hiromi — while in a relationship with you — knew you and Nanami had been involved, albeit never treating him with anything but respect and comradery after Nanami stopped holding his own grudge against the man.

"I thought about it a lot, because she never told me what happened between the two of you," he began, "not in detail, anyway."

Hiromi paused his speech for a moment, picking his next words.

"Getting to know you better, Nanami, that is what I think happened, and it makes sense to me. You are the kind of person who would do anything to protect other people, even if it makes you miserable, and even if you can't admit it."

Nanami sighed, averting his gaze as Hiromi read him like an open book.

Hiromi realized he was correct, so he proceeded.

"That is your moral selfishness. I guess…. We are both selfish, in our own way. My moral selfishness is not allowing myself to be happy until I feel I’ve paid my due debt."

Nanami felt sympathy for the former lawyer, even if he couldn't understand the man's impending sense of responsibility.

"I understand your point," Nanami began, "but she would probably say that’s just the story you’re telling yourself."

Hiromi chuckled softly. "She did. Do you end up ignoring most of her advices too?"

"Only when she gives them out, which is not very often," Nanami half jested.

Both sorcerers stood silent for a minute before Hiromi smiled bitterly at himself as he started speaking again.

"It’s true that no jujutsu sorcerer dies without regret, right? I mean, she… I wish I could stay."

“She will be okay, she always is” Nanami reassured him.

“I believe so,” Hiromi answered, having his shoulders dangle down as he considered his next few words.

"I need to ask you for something, Nanami."

The ratio sorcerer remained silent, so he proceeded.

“Don’t let her be alone,” Hiromi asked, glancing at Nanami.

Nanami was considerably surprised, and looked a little incredulous at his colleague.

“Aren't you both still…?”

“I’ll let you ask her that.”

Nanami pondered for a second, and huffed with the slightest hint of a smile at the irony of it all.

“I remember you once said I was a dignified man. I believe you were wrong about that.”

“Even the best of us have their blind spots, apparently,” Hiromi concluded, as he lifted himself. "I need to take my train now."

Nanami also got up, and extended his hand towards Hiromi, much to the other's surprise.

"You have become a fine jujutsu sorcerer. I hope you get to come back to Tokyo, eventually" he stated, as Hiromi acquiesced to the gesture and gave him a handshake.

"I hope for that, too."

–

End notes:

Well, the events that explain how this came to happen will be in "old regrets and guilt ridden pasts: part 3", which I've barely scraped the surface of up until this point. Lol

Sorry for the angst guys, but I hope you like it.

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scribblestatic · 10 days

Text

Eyo, back on my amputee!SY agenda bullshit

Lesgo.

Prev: Part 2

---

When Luo Binghe married Shen Yuan, he was named the First Husband. But now, with his new crowning, he'll become the Empress, a position given to none of Luo Binghe's wives, not even in PIDW. Though, he's already come to terms with the fact the world isn't the same as the book.

Mostly. It's still perhaps a bit too easy for him to suggest torture for someone despite his modern world sensibilities because it's easier to think of anyone facing against his husband (AAAAAAAAAA) as some no-name NPC rather than someone with a whole life full of experiences.

But anyway, he's becoming an empress. Which is wild to him.

And it dusts up a lot of his insecurities. And not, like, the kind where someone asks their significant other if they would still love them if they were a worm. No, it's more along the lines of, "Hey, would you still love me if it turned out my soul wasn't transmigrated at all, but was simply, like, disconnected from itself and I really am Shen Jiu, but I also lived as and firmly feel like I'm Shen Yuan, but some piece of me really had done all those terrible things to make your innocent life more miserable?"

He pops the question while Binghe's combing oil through his hair, his left eye gazing anxiously at the bronze mirror to look at the demon emperor's expression.

Luo Binghe thinks, humming a little as he doesn't falter while combing his hair.

"...Would Shizun love me if I killed some of my wives?"

"Huh?"

"Would A'Yuan love me if I killed some of my wives?"

"I mean...sure? I'm sure you'd have a reason for it."

"Then, would A'Yuan hate me if I killed and ate demons in the Endless Abyss?"

"What? No. Survival was extremely difficult. You only did what you had to do."

"And if I still had a taste for demon flesh?"

Shen Yuan's face scrunches, but his response is still immediate.

"Then, I suppose we could find which ones you liked? I mean, I don't think I could do it with you, and we'd need to respect their personhood. So, maybe we could find a group where cannibalism is a norm for them? I think that'd be difficult...ah! We could also see if the Red-Dipped Manfruit could be bred to taste like the demon's flesh. Demons that eat humans use it for minor sustenance when natural human flesh isn't available, so surely--"

Ah, his expression had scrunched more with thought than disgust. Luo Binghe doesn't interrupt as he goes on his continued tangent, smiling as he listens. He only speaks again after he seems to be trailing to another subject.

"Then," he pauses, leaning forward and looking down at Shen Yuan, "if A'Yuan can love this one as I am, even at my ugliest, how could this emperor not love my A'Yuan at his most beautiful?"

Shen Yuan stares up at him, his lips slightly open as he listens, as he sees the depths of the light and love in Binghe's dark eyes.

"Even if you are Shen Jiu, back then, this disciple wanted the affection you now freely give. I have always cared for and about you, for better or worse. And your attention was always on me, for better or worse. This Binghe likes to think that, now, we care for each other, not just for the better, but for the best."

"Ah..."

Shen Yuan stares up a bit longer before he quickly turns away. Binghe puts the comb down as he hears a sniffle, and when he kneels beside his seat, he pushes the long, inky black hair away from Shen Yuan's eye, catching sight of his ruddy cheeks and the mistiness in his eye.

"...Shameless."

"Indeed, I am. A'Yan should punish me."

He just shakes his head, and he doesn't lean away when Binghe leans forward and kisses his lips. They linger softly, pulling apart slowly as they share each other's breathes. Their faces remain too close for them to see each other properly, lips still just barely touching.

"...Then, I'll only kiss you two more times," Shen Yuan mumbles.

Luo Binghe chuckles.

"How cruel."

They only remember to get back to combing Shen Yuan's hair several minutes later.

The remains of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect had not been invited to Shen Yuan's crowning ceremony, but they still heard of it happening regardless.

Demons, previously unaccustomed to some of the more casual aspects of living with their means more easily available, and humans, always seeking new methods of entertainment, became very entranced with the gossip surrounding Demon Emperor Luo's harem. The fact pieces of it were steadily dissolving had originally been a gripe against him, as though he was losing his touch. However, when some of the wives were members of their own race or species and they returned without harm and with a hefty sum of money, well, the bridges hadn't been burned, and suddenly, "losing his touch" simply became "being less loose" or "finding lasting love."

So now, with the crowning ceremony ramping up, of course the gossip mills were churning at rapid speeds. Eventually, word of who would become empress despite the emperor's known track record of wives was absolutely scandalous.

"His shizun, of all people?"

"The one he had imprisoned, even."

"Must've driven the man mad."

"I don't know... I saw them recently. Shen Qingqiu looked quite sane."

"He has no limbs and is missing an eye, he can't be that sane anymore."

"He certainly wasn't groveling. If anything, he seemed quite untouched. Save for...well..."

"His eye is quite sharp, and he is quick-witted. I don't think he would be bad for an empress."

"The cultivation sects are going to implode."

And, just like the news of the crowning ceremony spread around, so too did the news that Cang Qiong Mountain Sect sent a letter to Demon Emperor Luo, demanding an audience in light of his proposal to a lord from their sect.

It was, to many demons and a few humans, a wasted, and perhaps misguided, effort. Yet, they wouldn't protest against the meeting.

It would be incredibly entertaining, after all.

---

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3: here Part 4

#static writes #amputee sy au #bingyuan #luo bingge #original luo binghe #shen yuan #svsss #au post 3

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headkiss · 1 year

Note

Hi Anna, I'm a huge fan of your Steve writings:)) How about Steve x introvert!reader where they have a painting date night at one of their homes?🫶

hiii thank you so much!!! i hope u like it!! | 0.7k so fluffy

Steve is a romantic to the bone. When you first met him, he would’ve denied it to make himself cooler, but now, he wears it around you like a badge of honor.

He’s also ridiculously understanding.

Work today had been a lot, the bakery on main unusually busy with only two of you working. Not to mention you’d been working the front counter, when you’d much rather be in the kitchen making cookies and frosting cupcakes.

Drained is one way to put the way you’re feeling, the battery for socializing running lower and lower until it’s basically empty by the time you’re home.

Steve calls you like he knows exactly when you’ll be getting into your room, and you pick up despite your tiredness. There’ll always be room for him, you think.

“Hey, angel,” his voice loosens your tight muscles just a bit. “We still good for tonight?”

Back to him being a romantic, Steve insists that you go on at least one date a week, and it’s something that goes to show how much he cares about you and your relationship. He also calls you beforehand to check if you’re up to it every time.

You wince a little as you answer, feeling guilty for being tired and for wanting to stay in. “Would it be okay if we didn’t? I’m so sorry, work was a lot and-”

“None of that,” he cuts you off, “how about you just come here? Just me and you?”

“Thank you, Steve. I’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

“See you soon.”

Soon is the time it takes for a shower, getting dressed in sweats, and the drive over to his place. As you step out of your car, you worry that he had something special planned for today’s date, that you ruined that, but his beaming smile when he opens the door is enough to erase your worries.

“Hi,” he says, tossing an arm over your shoulders and tilting his head to push a kiss into your hair. “You okay?”

“Better now.”

Your arms wrap themselves around his waist, and though it’s awkward to walk through the house this way, neither of you make a move to pull away.

Steve leads you into the dining room, and your eyes well up just a little (maybe a lot) at what you see. He’s got a tarp laid over the table, two canvases set up on small easels right next to each other, and paint and brushes scattered over the table. Such a romantic.

“I thought maybe we could have our date here instead,” he tells you, rocking on his feet. Steve knows you better than anyone, and he knows that it can take a lot for you to be in social settings for a long time. He doesn’t care; the most important part to him is spending time with you, anyway.

So, he’s had some ideas for at home dates saved up for you. By the way your arms squeeze him tighter and you murmur his name, all delicate and surprised, he feels pretty good about it.

“Where did you get all of this? It’s barely been an hour since you called.”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek, the words ‘thank you’ pushed into his skin.

“Well,” he starts, his cheeks warming at your affection, “you wanna paint something?”

“Absolutely.”

It’s easy to get into the swing of things, dollops of paint squeezed out onto the tarp to use, cups of muddled water used to clean your brushes, and the sort of ease you’ve only ever felt around Steve.

You don’t know how he seems to understand exactly what you need without saying anything, how he accepts every bit of you without complaint, but you’re eternally thankful for it nonetheless.

He knows you the best, and he loves you the way only he could. In this big, huge way that’s in everything he does, even the way he paints the tip of your nose pink.

By the end of the painting session, you’re left giggling at Steve’s piece of art that looks like something a proud parent would put on their fridge.

“Whatever,” he says, fighting a smile at the brightness in your eyes and the laugh you’re hiding behind your hand. “It’s called abstract. Guess you just don’t have the eye for it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he cups your cheek in his warm palm, rubbing away a splotch of paint—one that he probably put there—with his thumb.

Your long shift feels ages away, long forgotten and replaced by paint stains on your clothes, a mess that neither of you can be bothered to clean up, and the all-encompassing feeling of being with Steve, of being known and loved by him.

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genericpuff · 2 months

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I feel mean criticizing an author's old work that they've deliberately buried, but sheesh the dialogue in Rachel's old stuff is really stilted. As awkward as LO's writing is, it honestly does show some improvement, so like...good for Rachel I guess?

I mean, it hasn't really improved though? Normally no, I wouldn't criticize someone's older work because by the virtue of something being old, it will naturally be improved upon and shouldn't be judged against what's created in the present (trust me, as someone with work from 10 years ago that hasn't aged well, I get it LOL).

But what's in the present... has all the same issues. I think it's easy to convince ourselves LO's writing is "better" because it relies on Greek myth to piece itself together, but when you aren't filling in the blanks for her based on assumptions made from the source material (which you shouldn't have to do) her writing in LO still doesn't have much to offer. Like, can we really call this an improvement?

If anything the writing in LO got even worse over time because it started to feel like ChatGPT was writing the dialogue and the narrative was crumbling under the weight of Rachel's lack of foresight / planning ahead.

I mean, just to get my point across, let me ask you one simple question: What is the actual theme of LO? What is the conclusion it comes to by its end to contribute to that theme?

This isn't me trying to minimize whatever improvements she may have made between the past and present, I just don't see those improvements, and there's a lot more to suggest that she was a lot more prolific 20 years ago as an artist than she is today. All of that stuff about Persephone / herself being a "workaholic" is based on stuff she went through 20 years ago that she doesn't even put on display now because it's all buried in deactivated Tumblrs and LiveJournals. But that's besides the point.

I think at best the "improvement" simply boils down to "at least she finished this one". But that's not necessarily a good thing because it's clear LO went on longer than it ever should have and that the only reason she even made it this far was because she was bound to a contract through WT. I guarantee you if it weren't for the success that WT's gave her through constantly advertising LO everywhere (and the fact that LO fit a very specific niche that was popular at the time) she would have ended LO ages ago, because just about every series she's done up until this point have been passing fancies that she's bounced between while still retaining a lot of the same tropes and crutches she always has.

LO is about a naive valley girl with mommy issues who goes to school to better herself. This is also the plot of The Doctor Foxglove Show. And while comics like Castle Castle, Woman King, and The Maiden don't involve school settings, they do still center around "girlboss" characters who hate their parents. LO isn't really an "improvement" among these tropes, just another rehashing that's hidden way better because 1.) she put it behind the veil of Greek myth and 2.) she's done everything in her power to hide the fact that she's been writing about the same pink-haired girls with mommy issues and trauma from evil men "except for that one guy who's perfect in every way" for 20+ years now.

And that issue of stilted dialogue goes way beyond even the comics. Read transcripts of her interviews or the Q&A from the end of the series that she did in her Discord and you'll see she has a really hard time finishing the thought she started on. I'm sure a lot of this can be chalked up to her ADHD / dyslexia, which is totally valid, but it just goes to show she hasn't done any work to actually improve her work in spite of her hindrances. She doesn't know how to separate Internet trolls from valid criticism and she seems to absorb any and all criticism as "proof" that she's better than everyone else, actually, and it's not her fault that other people are stupid and don't get her "vision". And I'm not pulling this assertion out of thin air, she's displayed this exact behavior before both within the LO fandom as well as her pre-existing fandoms around her other series.

Like, I can totally get the sentiment that "hate mail is a sign of success" and turning a negative into a positive, but there's a difference between deflecting hate mail from trolls and deflecting genuine criticism that's meant to identify your weaknesses and help you grow. That's what makes it all the more telling that she's built an audience around protecting and enabling her weaknesses rather than celebrating her strengths and empowering her to do better. She can't fall back on Webtoons as the only excuse for why the writing in LO is bad, her writing has always been like this and I feel like that's half the reason she's trying to hide it.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #tl ; dr nah she hasn't improved.. if anything she's just been more reinforced in her flaws because WT has enabled her to do the bare minimu #and because her fandom is made up of children #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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memescomicswriting · 16 days

Text

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Chapter 5: My Heart, My Hips, My Body, My Love

Summary: Fate is cruel on how it goes about obtaining its desires. It must be fate, because there is no other explanation for how perfectly molded Y/N and Helaena are to one another. They complement one another like opposite sides of a coin. Where Helaena is shy, Y/N is outgoing. Helaena has a photographic memory. Y/N has emotional inteligence. They have the right temperament to be the missing piece in one another’s lives. Ying and Yang. Then there are the boys. Love them or hate them, they’re there. Even the adults cannot escape the Targaryen chaos, and the fallout doesn’t spare the minors simply because they’re adolescents. Follow how Y/N and those around her carve out lives for themselves amongst the weight of the Targaryen legacy in a modern Westeros.

Word Count 6.2k

Pairings: Aegon x Y/N, Aemond xY/N, hints of Jace x Y/N, Platonic! Helaena x Y/N, Father Figure! Harwin x Y/N, Mother Figure! Rhaneyra x Y/N, Mother Figure! Alicent x Y/N

Warnings: 18+ you’ve been warned

Lots of profanity, sexual innuendos, drug and alcohol use, boys being stupid jerks, infidelity, divorce, you get some smut this chapter!

A/N: Chapters drop on Thursdays. Please, please, please, please share your thoughts. I wanna hear them. I don't bite, promise!

Additionally, don't come for me with the Valyrian god names. Take it up with the official wiki I consulted.

Sereies Masterlist

Y/N would describe nostalgia as the misty scent of pine furs mixed with Weirwood sap. It was that scent that filled her senses during childhood adventures. If you added a whiff of smoke, countless parties came to mind. It was a tradition, the outgoing senior send off. Of course, some college students would attend as their siblings or close friends were that year’s crop. Afterwards, they were welcomed into the local bars. This was the toast to it all; a goodbye to the sanctuary of revelry they’d spent the last four years enjoying. Storries from previous years lingered like a legacy. What tales would their send off leave behind?

Y/N’s obviously flopped. It went from a proposed bacchanalia to a nearly year long feud with Aemond. That was over now; apologies made and friendships mended. Y/N could hold a grudge, but she wasn’t so cruel that she’d ruin Aemond’s send off in retribution. It was Jace’s as well. Part of her considered this a potential redo. She could leave pleasant memories in place of scars.

Y/N made it to the clearing earlier than most party goers. Her intent was to arrive before Aemond and Jace, to help set up. This was for them and they shouldn’t be responsible for preparation.

In a refrigerated bag, Y/N carried a few handles of liquor and litters of mixers. There never came a time where they had to ration booze, but if you wanted something specific, you had to bring it. She left her contribution on the empty kegs turned tables from years prior. Graduation years were spray painted across each one. They went back decades.

Y/N planned to start directing drink set up when she caught the familiar sight of long silver hair on a masculine form. Aemond was crouched on one knee next to the firepit looking like he wanted to start it.

“You shouldn’t be setting up. This party is for the graduates. That includes you.” Y/N’s announcement startled Aemond, though to the untrained eye, he hadn’t reacted at all. Y/N knew his tells, but she knew better than to tease him. He’d be in a sour mood for the rest of the night.

A faint frown draped over Aemond. Part of him knew she’d gotten to him. He also hated Y/N seeing him struggle, and starting this fire wasn’t easy. “Well since it’s a party for me, I had to make sure it was done right.”

“Control freak.” Y/N rolled her eyes and smirked knowingly. Before joining Aemond on ground level, she rearranged the firewood so air could better circulate and feed the flames.

Aemond scoffed, though he was slightly amused. “Says the girl literally taking control.”

Y/N kneeled down and claimed his tools. She worked, engaging in his obvious desire to spar. “Aemond, your talents surpass others in many things. Lighting a fire, I fear, is not one of them.”

She stroked his ego while taunting him. His favorite flavor of fun. “And yet the heiress knows how.”

“Huh,” It was a dry and dark utterance from Y/N. “With my history, yeah.”

That was the nail in the coffin to any quips Aemond could retort. How do you win an argument when the trauma card is played? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, I took it there.”

“Are you… okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed and relaxed back onto the forest floor with a plop. She crossed her legs and left her now free hands in her lap. “I just…wanted to understand it. The ways to start it, manage it, end it.”

Aemond nodded in consideration and focused on the unlit logs. “I can see why.”

“I know it’s fucked up.” Y/N continued and refused to look up from her hands and the lighter in them. “But sometimes I wonder what they went through.”

Y/N sparked the lighter and orbited her hand around the flame. Her fingers danced nearer and then distanced from the light like she dared it to grow and claim her too. “What did they feel last? Was it the flames? Or the smoke that did them in. Like if I know the feeling, I could go back and stop it all together.”

Aemond wasn’t skilled in comfort. He sharpened his tongue long ago and dulling the edge with sweetnesses was a difficult act. He tried the best he could, sharing what he knew. “Our ancestors used fire as a tool of divination and sorcery.”

She scoffed at his ridiculous connection. “And it only brought death and destruction to their enemies and to them.”

Aemond shrugged. Regardless of feelings of morality, it was their legacy and legacy was everything to Aemond. “It gave us what we have now.”

Her hard focus snapped to him. Defiance and a tad of horror lived within her gaze; though her words sounded like a caress. “Was it worth it?” He blinked and withdrew in slight intimidation. She spoke of how horrid fire and flame were, yet here he felt their heat radiate off of her. “The histories say they used dark magics to inject fire into their blood and the blood of their descendants.”

“Perhaps that’s why you’re always so hot headed.” Y/N mumbled.

His immediate reaction was a sharp laugh. “Very clever.”

Y/N side eyed Aemond with a sleek smirk. “I have to be, to keep up with you.” The lighter sparked a piece of kindling. She tossed it into the larger pile beneath the main wood. Then she earnestly addressed him. “Now, the question is, can you keep up with me?” The pair shared an understanding smile.

Hours in and the party was at its height. Many graduates seemed invested in this graduating class. Empty cups already littered the ground. This year’s keg was half tapped. Delinquency filled the entirety of the forest clearing.

Jace and a few of his tourney teammates arrived together like the rowdy pack of boys they were. Aegon and Helena, the last of age Targaryans left in the house, made their way together. Aegon didn’t mind returning to the familiar surroundings. Here, he was the biggest dragon in the clutch. As a rising third year university student, he was admired simply for his age and experience. Soon to be university freshman girls flocked to him like a moth to a flame. Each started by asking for his advice, but it quickly devolved into shameless flirting. A giddy sense of pride filled his chest. Aegon craved the desirability and praise he’d often been neglected. Having this many admires was the drug he spent the summer searching for.

Aemond was further up Y/N’s ass than normal this summer. Almost every time Aegon sought her out, Aemond was there. He was used to tolerating Helaena’s presence. She and Y/N were best friends. Aemond though, he’d never been this open with his desire to be close to her. Often as Aegon went to sneak in a smoke with Y/N, Aemond deterred his efforts. Aegon became frustrated with the lack of Y/N’s attention, but he’d never admit it. He felt like an addict in relapse with the attention he was currently receiving. Still, nothing truly felt the same as the first dose. In his case, that was Y/N. He hoped that the party being for Aemond, he’d actually drink to the point of getting drunk, and Aegon could claim some of Y/N’s affections.

He excused himself from his collection of fans with the excuse that he needed a new drink. Helaena happened to be by the drink stand with one of her other friends. Though few they were. It was the perfect opportunity to check in on everyone’s status and whereabouts.

“Sister. Rayel.” Aegon acknowledged as he poured a fresh concoction into his plastic cup.

“Hey Aegon.” Rayel’s smile was bright and wide. Aegon added her to the tally of girls he could claim.

“Where’s the party animal and Y/N?” He hoped the sarcastic replacement for Aemond’s name would make the question casual enough to avoid suspicion.

Rayel jumped in before Helena could respond. “Oh, I just saw them walk off that way.” The enthusiastic girl pointed in a direction that was through the thick of the crowd.

“You just missed them replenishing their drinks.” Helena clarified in a more even tone.

Rayel nodded in agreement. Her helpfulness, though nice, came across as an obvious attempt to hold Aegon there. “Yeah, they were talking about some favor she owed Aemond and wanted to talk in private. I think they’ll be gone for a while.”

Helena and Aegon locked widened eyes. Both were all too familiar with Y/N and Aemond’s history. Every detail was well known as they endured nine months of ranting. Aemond wouldn’t bring up that cataclysmic affair for nothing. Helaena’s alarm made Aegon more perturbed. She knew more about this summer’s events than anyone else. If she had cause for concern, Aegon was fucking terrified.

…

Aemond had Alys in the corner of the room where the lights dimmed. His slender fingers lightly held her hips. Her graceful arms lazily draped over his shoulders. He was beaming. She was laughing. They looked good together. It was early second semester of his first year and he’d found someone just for himself.

Y/N watched on. She had a perfect view from the couch. It was a bittersweet feeling. Aemond had Alys, and she was happy he was happy. Helena had something with her classmate Jenning that no one could quite comprehend, but she was content. Jace pursued a girl named Anya. Aegon and Rhaela had their girls. Baela was satisfied with the title as the campus’ biggest flirt. Everyone had someone or something, and Y/N was stuck on the couch- drink in one hand, phone in the other, eagerly awaiting a text that would never come. She downed the remainder of her drink and allowed her head to rest on the couch’s back. She hoped the alcohol would quickly kick in or someone offer her a smoke.

The gods deliver, because she felt the couch cushions shift with someone’s weight. “Our little bird has left the nest.” Aegon, and his voice was jovial. Score, there was her plug and she’d play along. He was good company for her.

“Yes, he spread his wings and flew!” She was amused by the irony of it all. Her head lulled to the side to address him and she didn’t try to hide her sentimental distress.

Confused and slightly suspicious, Aegon dramatically placed his hand to his chest. “Don’t tell me you’re upset by it.”

“Not at all.” Y/N wistfully giggled. “I’m happy fo him. Just kinda… lonely. Yah know?” She shrugged like the feeling was a passing phase, something common.

Aegon rolled his eyes and reclined into the couch, clearly over whatever she was going on about. “You need to stop being a doormat for that guy.”

Y/N narrowed her vision, but remained friendly. “You’re one to talk. I can see at least three girls shooting daggers at me for daring to hold your attention. Cause you have them on the line!”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” He stated as if it were as obvious as the sky being blue.

Her narrow vision rounded in confusion. “What does that mean?”

Aegon’s hands came down on his knees. “Ugh, you’re killing my buzz. This is a crossfaded conversation.” He rocked into a standing position and offered her a helping hand. “Come on.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk as Aegon pulled her through the mass of individuals huttled in this off campus house. She didn’t care what it looked like he was directing her to do. Onlookers could gawk or mind their business. She didn’t care. He jiggled a few closed doors. When he found one unlocked and empty, he held the door open for her.

Y/N had no reservations about sitting on a neatly made bed. Aegon stood in front of her with a blunt between his lips. His lighter was sparking, trying to light the damned thing. Once he got it going and took a puff he handed it off to her. She inhaled and watched as he claimed the space next to her. They placed themselves on the edge of the bed, arm to arm.

Y/N coughed a little on the exhale. This wasn’t of the highest quality. “So you were saying.”

With the blunt between his fingers, Aegon took puffs between his thoughts. “You’re not the just-for-fun girl. Yeah, you’re a girl and sometimes you like to have fun-” His lips pouted in a very Aegon suggestion. “But you’re not the long term just-for-fun girl. You’re special. Yeah the ones on the line,” He curled his fingers to quote her. “Were mad because you’re the one my attention was on, but at the end of the day they know it’ll never be something serious. How many times has that ass made you think it would be?” Even with the mix of liquor and drugs entering her system, Y/N still hung her head in shame. “Every time.”

“Right,” Aegon passed back the blunt. She needed it. “He wants the benefits of being with you but none of the restrictions that come with it. He doesn’t see how special you are, dump him, for good.”

“It’s easy to say, but sometimes I think Jayton is the only one who will ever make me feel-”

“Feel what?”

“Special. He called me his twin flame, and, and…” Y/N’s eyes welled with tears.

“Oh my fucking gods!” Aegon groaned and placed his palms to his eyes. “I’m gonna have to kick his ass.”

Y/n turned to him with amused disdain. “Don’t!” She exclaimed but she wasn’t too adamant, and shoved him.

Aegon used the force of her shove to recline back with her sculpted into his side. Her head rested on his chest and she felt safe enough to silently cry. He took the blunt from her so she could curl up how she liked. He took the hits he wanted and passed it back when she requested. They went on like this until they finished.

Once her tears dried, she shifted herself so she was chest to chest with Aegon. Her hands folded on one another and she rested her chin there. Y/N sighed, gratified.

Aegon propped his head up against a pillow. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this.”

“Yeah,” She pondered the timeframe. “Why is that?”

“You were stuck up a jackass’ ass.”

She chuckled. She was high. He amused her. “Oh yeah, by bad.” They laughed together for a good minute. It felt nice to be this close again. “When did you become so wise?” She wondered aloud.

“Always have been.” He shrugged despite her laying on top of him. “Just never show it.”

“Why haven’t you found someone?” It was a sharp turn in the conversation, but Y/N was simply following her thoughts.

Aegon frowned. “Who’s going to put up with me?” She huffed. “I can think of several girls.”

“No, I mean the mess that is my family, my stupid behavior, my vices. They’d run the first time the rose colored glasses slipped.”

“Please, if that were true you’d only see me at mandatory functions.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“You’re special.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s true!”

Silence. Y/N didn’t feel like arguing and Aegon didn’t feel the need to prove the point any further.

Y/N’s chin popped up, proud and adamant. “I think they’d be a fool to see you- the real you- who loves and cares till it makes him bleed, and run.”

“You think?” His brow raised in disbelief.

Y/N sighed and shook her head at how ridiculous she found his self deprecating beliefs. “You’re handsome.” The smile that enveloped her lips and twinkled in her eyes was like reflected sunlight. “But there’s something ethereal about you when you let your guard down.”

Some of his curls clung to his forehead from the sweat he worked up earlier. She brushed them aside. It forced him to gulp. “Really?”

“Syrax, god of wine, ecstasy, and the handsomest of them all.”

Aegon’s Adam's apple bobbed. He searched for any sign of sarcasm, that she was teasing him. He found none. He received his fair share of female flirtations, but it felt different coming from Y/N. Her words were kind and genuine and seeped down into his very bones. He believed the compliments when they came from her. Her words reached the lonely little boy, starved for affection, within him. The very one that sought her attention from their first meeting.

His eyes glazed over in desire. Slowly, he lifted his head so his lips were within a hair of hers. He hesitated, looking from her eyes to her lips. There was a breath. Then another. Then they dove into the unknown together. Once their lips met, there was no hesitation. Almost a decade of history relived in a singular act. Every fight, compliment, insult, embrace, comfort, shame, fear, joy, pain, acceptance poured into their efforts like freshly spilled blood from an open wound. That’s the only way to describe the intensity of the moment; pouring, blending into one another. Their motions weren’t rough but desperate.

This was a form of companionship they’d stood just beyond the reach of for too long. Each chased the other, afraid the feeling would dissipate if they came up for air. The room spinned, and between the drugs, darkness, and lack of air- faces were fuzzy. When they latched once again, Y/N’s fingers intertwined within the mess of knots in Aegon’s hair. His fingers danced along her sides in a track leading from her hips up to the swells of her breast. In his greed, he wanted to feel everything she had to offer.

Y/N’s straddle widened to accommodate Aegon’s hips. They’d been in this position before. When they were younger it was in the heat of a disagreement. As they got older, boundaries thinned and it became a dangerous standoff. They knew how to play this game. Y/N ground her increasingly wanting core against the already firm bulge in Aegon’s jeans. He hissed against her lips. She chuckled in triumph until she had to moan. Aegon thrusted his hips up in a circular motion. The moans Y/N made were sinful.

In retaliation, she leaned in to nibble down his neck and to his exposed collar bone. He whined. Actually whined. He groped the supple flesh of her bottom to stabilize himself. That backfired. She was in a skirt, so he truly clutched a handful of her skin. She was in a godsdamned thong.

“Fuck.” He spoke in an extended exhale. Y/N straightened her posture to grind on him like he was a fair’s mechanical dragon. He was awestruck by her unabashed lust. He himself sat up and chased her lips in need of their bruising bliss. His hands slid up her now untucked shirt and over her breasts. He kneaded them and it caused them both to groan.

“Aegon.” Y/N was pained by desperation. He reflected the same distress. “I want to feel good.”

He nodded with abandon. He wanted it to. He’d come into his own hand, and occasionally other girls, at the prospect of the dream he now lived. “I will. Sevens help me I will. I lo-”

His near declaration was cut off by an intruder clearing their throat. Aegon’s grip on Y/N tightened to hide any potentially exposed skin. Startled, they searched for the origin of the disruption. There stood Aemond with a glare from the depths of the seven hells. Alys’ eyes were awkwardly downcast and arms crossed.

Y/N scrambled to untangle herself. She tried to look more presentable. It wouldn’t make her any less guilty.

Aegon was deeply annoyed with the intrusion. “And you’re here because?” He looked over his brother like he was the weird outcast from the back of the class trying to sneak a seat at the popular kid’s table.

“Seems the same as you.” Then his lips sneered as he addressed Y/N. “But at least we’re sober enough to know what we’re doing.”

“Hey,” Y/N’s guilt faded into anger at his accusation. “We’re equally stoned.”

“I can see.” Aemond snorted. “That’s why you let him paw at you like a rabid dog. Or was it desperation?” He cocked his head to the side, words flowing with condemnation. “What happened to being the one person he’d never touch?”

Y/N retreated into herself. It was all too much. Her disappointment from earlier, the substances, Aegon’s words of comfort, the feeling of his lips on hers, where it was leading, and his near admission. Now Aemond. It all spiraled in her mind like water circling a drain. She was a sinking ship. This was it. She found it more difficult to fill her lungs with air. She needed out. She needed to get out. She needed to get out now.

Without a second thought to her state of dress, Y/N flew off the bed and to the door. Her words vomited out her mouth as she was on the move. “I, I, it just happened okay. Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is.”

With no regard for himself, Aegon went after her in his disheveled manor. His single focus was to make sure she was okay. Aemond caught his forearm before he could make it out the doorway.

Blind malice had a hold over Aemond. He spat his words into his brother’s panicking face. “Hurts to be interrupted once you finally achieve what you’ve always wanted, doesn’t it?”

Aegon shook his arm free. He would’ve decked Aemond if he wasn’t so concerned about reaching Y/N. “Fuck you, you jealous, unwanted, scarred, creep.”

He jogged down the hallways of the building and out the back looking for Y/N. She only stopped when her feet touched the dew soaked grass.

Aegon encircled her from behind. His arms applied the grounding pressure she needed. Her sobs were heartwrenching. “Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay.”

Y/N didn’t cease her cries. “He’s right. He’s right.” Her head dropped forward in defeat. “I was desperate to feel wanted and I came onto you. And I shouldn’t have! You’re my best friend’s older brother, and we’re at each other's throats all the time. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Aegon rubbed his face into the crook of her neck. He couldn’t let go. “You’re smart, and sweet, and perfect, and I wanted to.”

“I wanted to, too. Gods I wanted you.” Her breaths were rigid and alternating between too deep and not enough. “But the thought of ruining things… all I want is peace.”

….

The senior send off was just another party. Another time for Y/N to be a social butterfly. However, this time Aemond managed to keep up with her most of the night. She was oblivious to the curious glances cast in their direction. She focused on the conversations in front of her. Aemond was quieter, more reserved, and aware of his surroundings. He noticed. He enjoyed the presumed envy.

He left her side to refill their drinks. Making his way from one side of the crowd to the other wasn’t easy. He was taller, but his presence wasn’t as vibrant as Y/N’s or Aegon’s. They tended to have an easier time navigating the crowds.

When he arrived at the drink station he was greeted by his sister and one of his classmates, Rayel maybe. He faintly remembered only because Y/N and Helena seemed to enjoy the girl. She was too eager for his taste. She appeared disappointed when Aemond didn’t embrace her in conversation. Why would he? She wasn’t anyone he wanted. Still, he didn’t want to receive backlash for being rude, so he indulged in simple one word answers. Perhaps that took up more time than he thought, because soon Y/N emerged from the crowd.

“Ah, I see what’s taking you so long.” Y/N stepped around Aemond and hugged Rayel. “Good company keeps you busy.”

“Sure.” Aemond curtly answered as he added mixers into their cups of alcohol.

Y/N rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “Ignore him.” She said to Rayel.

“We certainly do.” Helaena chimed in. She smirked at the grimace Aemond sent her way.

“How was your summer exchange program in Dorne?”

“Oh my gods Y/N, you would not believe how incredible it is down there. I was telling Helena, first you think it’s going to be all miserable dessert but the residence is centered around an oases!”

Aemond filtered out the conversation. He had no care for what this girl did in Dorne. None of it was important. Tonight, it was him and Y/N. He’d spent the party by her side, allowing many exchanges, was pleasant with those who she exchanged with, and even gotten a dance out of her. It was time to move on to what he’d hoped for all night. He listened in once more.

“We should add that to our travel list.” Helena suggested. Y/N nodded.

“Before or after Valyria?” Aemond mused. He’d play along for what he needed.

Y/N chuckled and batted at his arm gently. “No, this is for my trip with just Helaena and I, you ditz.”

Aemond hummed. “I see. So long as we still have our trip…”

“Yes, our trip.” Y/N circled her index finger to signify Helaena’s inclusion.

“Here, let me show you some pictures I haven’t posted yet.” Rayel chirped and pulled out her phone to show the girls. Aemond rested his drink on one of the kegs, turned tables and used his free hand to gently grasp Y/N’s forearm.

“Your drink.” The cup was exchanged and Y/N grinned a small but bright smile. Aemond suddenly felt like the only person here with her; like everyone else were just blobs of colorful reflected light. This wasn’t a solo occurrence.

“Thank you.” Y/N took a sip and Aemond preened.

“Hey, can we go back to our conversation earlier?” Aemond was too focused on Y/N to notice Rayel’s peeking.

“What? The one where you were bragging about restoring that old dragon modeled sports car or the one where you said Landon Hills has as much class as his stepdad has Lannister loans?”

“No,” Aemond collected his drink and cocked his head. “The one about the favor.”

“Oh that conversation.” Y/N played along. “Must be important for you to bring it up twice.”

Aemond was smug with his banter back. “So important that I’d rather discuss it away from frivolous girls and their coddled trips.”

Over the years, Y/N became accustomed to Aemond’s open disrespect to others. It was hard not to. He wasn’t always subtle. She simply shook her head and wrapped her arm around Aemond’s. “Someone’s feisty tonight.” Before taking a step she turned to Helaena and Rayel and spoke louder. “We’ll be right back.”

Y/N pulled Aemond through the crowd. She was going in the direction of the lake, but Aemond had other ideas.

“This way.” He took the lead and turned their direction to where paths forked. Exiting the sea of people he shrugged away her confusion. “I thought it’d be nice to take a walk where you didn’t have to shout in every conversation.”

She accepted the conclusion without any objection. It would be nice not to strain her vocal cords for five minutes. Plus, Aemond put up with the crowd for hours now and she knew that drained him. She could be nice and go along with his suggestion.

They walked down a trail in silence, sipping their drinks for a few minutes before Y/N stopped at an old picnic table. Thinking that was as far as he needed, she took a seat on the table top.

Aemond’s lips upturned slightly, gently, and he shook his head. Once again, he used his free hand to grab onto her. This time, he took her hand instead. He was firm in decision but soft in execution. It wasn’t strange for him to be this tender every now and again. Momentary hand holding wasn’t odd either, but then he kept her hand. He folded his fingers between hers. His thumb glided over the smooth skin of the back of her hand.

They continued further down the trail until they came to a small clearing. The main party clearing was the size of a sport’s field. This clearing was the size of an inground swimming pool. It was easy to see an array of stars overhead, the light pollution of King’s Landing dulled by the vast forest estates of King’s Woods. The noise of the party and its music were a hum behind them. Y/N placed her cup down on the grass below and looked up at the stars above.

“Oh…” Her voice was hushed to match the stillness of the situation. “They’re beautiful.” She looked over to Aemond to find agreement, but all she found was the intensity of his gaze. He looked at her the way she looked at the stars. It was at that moment she truly understood the old saying: he looks at me like I hung the moon and stars. It caused her to swallow deep and it felt like a rock plummeted down her throat to her stomach. Trepidation tickled her skin like a current of electricity. There was no friendly excuse for the moment. She was on the edge of an unknown cliff about to fall, and part of her was excited for the drop. Everything in her was conflicted.

“Beautiful.” Aemond agreed, but they both knew he wasn’t talking about the stars. He was relaxed, and tender, and everything like the magnetic person he could be- if he just let the invisible weight of expectations fall. He shifted so that he went from being shoulder to shoulder, to being directly in front of her. She tried to hide herself by looking to the forest floor, their shoes, blades of grass, anything but meeting his eyes.

Aemond never dropped her hand. With his other, he took her jaw with his thumb to her chin. Through thick lashes she blinked and caught sight of how close his face was to hers. Her free hand laid flat against his chest. Whether to push him away or hold him close, she didn’t know. She took steps back but didn’t realize that she was pulling him along with her, still connected. Surprise took hold over her once she felt tree bark graze her back. She’d caged herself.

Y/N tilted her head forward to rest on Aemond’s shoulder. It felt like the safest option. The familiarity lulled her into pliability. Aemond dropped her jaw and instead cupped her cheek. He lowered himself so his temple rested on the top of her head. Eons passed in the seconds they stood together.

“We can’t” Y/N’s voice shook breathily from the difficulty she had breaking the silence.

Aemond’s hold on her cheek firmed as his fingers raised to brush through her hair. “We can.” He spoke with such conviction, beyond his normal tone of certainty. “I promise you, you’ll enjoy it.”

“I-” Their breaths mingled and she breathed in the alcohol scented puffs they exhaled. It enveloped her like the wind rustled the leaves off trees. The stomach lurching drop slowly crept to the forefront again.

“Just one kiss so I can know what it’d feel like” He tried to reason with her. He pulled back so he could tilt her for ease of access.

Her focus darted back and forth over his face. The dim light around them reflected off the whites of her eyes. Hypnotizing was the way he’d describe it. She was the maiden, a nymph, the goddess of love, Meleys herself. Everything he dreamed since he was ten. Before he knew what love and longing meant. It was right here in front of him, in his grasp.

“One little kiss.” He urged further. “To break the spell and maybe I can move forward.” In what direction, he did not specify.

“One?” Y/N croaked. Her eyelids fluttered closed and lips parted ever so slightly. Submission.

“Yes, one.” Aemond assured. Before he darkened his vision, he memorized every detail of her face. There was the way her brows creased in impatience. Orange blossom perfume lingered on her neck. Her perfectly plump lips were ready for him to seize and he did.

He ended her anticipation and brought the full force of his desire crashing down onto her. It was a tidal wave washing her out to sea. His lips molded against hers. His hold constricted, bringing her impossibly closer. She whined ever so high pitched and it caused him to smirk into the kiss. Everything was perfect in the world. He had everything he ever wanted in his grasp for him to devour- till he didn’t.

A bruising hand yanked him backwards by his shoulder. Aemond stumbled, heel catching a root, and he fell to the ground. He quickly went through the feelings of alarm, embarrassment, dejection, and finally hate. Above him, between his spot on the ground and Y/N, stood Aegon with balled fists. He looked ready to kill Aemond with his bare hands. After recognizing Y/N’s bewildered expression behind Aegon, Aemond could say the same.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Aegon wasn’t shouting, but his voice boomed in a serious way that caught both Aemond and Y/N off guard. “So desperate and depraved that you’d wait till she’s drunk to cash in a favor.” Aegon mocked Aemond with the word favor; like it was something pathetic. Like he was pathetic.

Something about Aegon’s words snapped Y/N back to reality. She was trying to get Aegon’s attention, pulling on his arm, hoping for his attention. “It’s not like that.” But there was a crumbling belief to her words.

“It is!” Aegon hadn’t centered his tone for her. Though he wanted her to remain behind him, she rounded to be in the middle. In desperate exasperation he waved in the general direction of Aemond. “That’s been his plan the whole night! Hells, the whole summer! Control the situation, again!” Despite Y/N blocking his path, Aegon hollered over her to spit at Aemond. “Isn’t that right?”

Wounded pride turned Aemond into a predator. His rise was slow and calculated like he was building energy to pounce. Y/N didn’t recognize the look behind his eyes. Once angelic, now appeared demonic. He was blind to the rest of the world, including her.

Aegon pushed Y/N out of the way in time to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Though Aemond was the better fighter, wounded pride made his consciousness go blank and his base instincts weren’t enough. Aegon easily sidestepped Aemond’s first attempt at a blow. Aegon had gone in the direction of his weaker eye, giving him the advantage. Using it, Aegon uppercut into Aemond’s stomach, a sure way to make him collapse.

History wasn’t linear, but a never ending, chaotic loop. Here Y/N was again, flinging herself into one of their scuffles. She ignored that all their most recent brawls devolved over her.

Aegon had done enough. Aemond was down and gasping for the air he lost. He needn't do more. Y/N made sure Aemond wasn’t dying before standing with Aegon. It was an image that burned into Aemond’s mind like a brand. Every failure, every time he wasn’t good enough, that he felt small, helpless, pathetic, weak, and Aegon was there proudly looming over him with Y/N to watch. He’d never lose that picture nor the feelings that came with it.

“He’s right.” A meak echo came from Aegon’s side. Y/N. “ We shouldn’t do this. I don’t want things to change.”

Aemond’s palm raised and slammed into the ground. It spooked Y/N. He spoke in a hiss. “You said to give you the summer.” He had no right to claim her. The logical part of his brain had no conflict with it. The wounded boy in him wanted to tear his surroundings to shreds then set them ablaze and watch everything turn to ash. All that so he could be the one standing proud over the ashes. He felt owed that.

Y/N found enough courage to toughen her words. “I said I might not change my mind at all. And you…” Her arms folded over her chest as they always did when she felt the need for protection. Aegon placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. She was shaking after all. She’d coiled into herself very serpent like, ready to strike. He watched as the emotions wracked her. She landed on disgust. “You never changed. I’m just a thing to possess to you, without autonomy. Screw you!”

She sobbed a curdling cry and collapsed into Aegon’s hold. Aegon forgot about Aemond. Everything was Y/N. He whispered soothing endearments to her. She was in his grasp at last. He’d take care of her from here.

A/N 2: So... thank you for reading. Let me know how you've enjoyed the story thus far. Any guesses as to what will come next. There will be a pause in new chapters for one to two weeks as I need to rewrite the next chapter. However, that means a better reading experience. Yay!

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harque · 6 months

Text

" always "

summary ੭୧ 0.9k — SFW you both were changed by the abyss. some days are easier than others.

features — gn!reader, established relationship, angst (a lot), hurt/comfort, blood, miscommunication, self deprecation, implied depression, cuddling

“And rest is sweet, when laurelled fame

Will crown the soldier’s crest;

But, a brave heart, with a tarnished name,

Would rather fight than rest.”

— Emily Brontë

You sleep alone.

You knew you would sleep alone from the moment you entrusted your heart to him. All you had to do was take one look into those dark blue eyes to see it. To understand despite the two of you being in love, Ajax would never hold you as firmly as he holds the hilt of his sword. He would never crave you the same way he craves bloodstained teeth or bruised skin, because that was the nature of a warrior.

You knew this and accepted it for what it was.

Ajax would never leave you, but he would be gone.

Maybe there should be a bitterness in you, knowing that. Something pushing you to sob or scream or fight for his rightful place to be by your side instead. But there is only—

(“It’s fine,” he said, lips shivering blue and staring blankly at the forest ahead. “If you want to back out now, I won't stop you.”)

—love. There should be bitterness, yes. But there isn’t. You admire him. So when you see him in the doorway—his tall figure silhouetted by the bright white landscape behind him—your only thought is to make him smile.

(“Look at you! All worn out and cold. Let's get you warmed up, shall we?”)

You take his gloved hand, pulling him into the warmth of the house. And there, you lavish him with kisses until he is red-faced with laughter. You love him. You love him, you love him, you love him. You love him, not because he was easy to love but because he was himself. Your most beloved Ajax, who was foolish and smiled like he never hurts.

He is staying with family this time.

He presses his lips against your forehead, murmuring an apology and promising to visit again when he can. The house is empty by nightfall.

You sleep alone.

You’ve made a lot of mistakes. You know you haven’t been the best partner at times, but tonight you want to be better. Ajax is finally home again.

You’re happy to see him! Although his voice is tense, and he brushes off any attempt of affection.

It’s okay, you think, even when you see how he is constantly on edge around you, as if he hadn't breathed comfortably in years—like he was somewhere else entirely.

(The abyssal depth he crawled away from lived in him now, gaping and yawning. You were the lucky one.)

He goes to sleep early. You sit by his side after dinner, and wonder how close is too close.

…

You want to be good today, you want to feel perfect. Ajax isn’t home. You remember the way his fingers fit neatly into yours like pieces of a puzzle.

You lie in bed for hours.

You sleep alone.

“I’m tired,” you cried to nobody at all, trying to wipe your stinging eyes, but the tears continued their wrathful march down your cheeks. “I’m so tired.”

The bed is cold.

You sleep alone.

If you were a stronger person, you would know what to do. You aren’t. You’re alone, and you don’t know anything. You haven’t talked to him normally in weeks. He’s here again, and somehow it's still like he never came back in the first pla—

“Hey.”

Your eyes flutter open.

Ajax is on top of the comforter, positioned right next to where you were blissfully sleeping. “You awake now?”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

All of a sudden, he pulls you into an embrace, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You want to cling to him, bury your face in his chest and never let go. But you hesitate, fearing that he might reject you again even though he was the one who initiated. Your hands hang limply at your side.

His hold moves past your shoulder and up into the tangled locks of your hair. Everything feels… real. Your breathing shallows until it stutters into a choked sob.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, barely able to make the words come out. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I know,” he says gently, stroking your head. “I know, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s a liar. You’ve seen him gaze listlessly at that damn forest for years, even when it was barely visible on the horizon. Sometimes, he is far away when he is right next to you. You fear the wounds of your shared past, how they are still sore to the touch like they happened yesterday. You dread the day he finds the battle he’s been looking for, because you know he will not come back.

That’s why you cry.

Deep down, you know he will never be satisfied, that he will always long for something bigger than whatever you—or the world itself—can offer. It’s terrifying.

You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, and say none of this.

You want to believe everything will be alright, that it will be different, that he will always come back. But you know better. You know better.

(“We’re just all kinds of fucked up, aren’t we?”

“That’s not funny,” you say, stifling a smile.)

He held you as your chest heaved with an inconsolable pain too big for your own body.

(Is it selfish to want all of him? Are you truly that bitter and lonely? Will it hurt like this forever?)

His heartbeat is an anchor.

You love him. You always will.

#✦﹐ fics #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #genshin fanfic

105 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 2 years

Note

Can I request an angst to fluff Eddie story where Eddie is an oblivious little golden retriever and his girlfriend hates/loves that about him? He starts dealing to Chrissy who then starts hanging around more, starts changing her style to be more like Eddie and also his girlfriend, breaks up with Jason, and then suddenly is everywhere. Eventually the reader loses it in front of everyone when Chrissy goes a little far with her flirting and Eddie tells the reader she's being dramatic. To him that's his girl, his soul mate and he even plans on proposing after graduation. He doesn't even think of other girls. The reader is hurt he dismissed her in front of everyone and feels like he chose Chrissy, and Chrissy thinks she won because Eddie chose her. Then the next day Eddie doesn't pick up the reader for school like he usually does, instead he shows up late with Chrissy in his passenger seat. The final offense though? Is when Chrissy sees the reader looking and grabs Eddie and kisses him. Now Eddie realizes his girlfriend fears were very valid and now he's not sure if he can fix this, but he will move heaven and earth for just a shot at forgiveness.

(This got super long, and I really didn't mean for it to 😂 you can totally cut it down or change whatever you want. I don't really care I just really enjoy your angst to fluff.)

Yes, you may ask for a request!

Thank you so much for requesting and enjoying my work :)

And details are always helpful! If this is not what you wanted, let me know so I can rewrite it. ( Alternative ending in master-list - still ends with her going back so fair warning)

Master-list

Y/N has been smitten with Eddie since she met him in her sophomore year. He was confident, charming, funny, and so hot. It was very easy for them to become friends as they had a lot in common. They enjoyed the same bands and laughed at how many of the same shirts they had. They have an equal number of records all over their rooms. Both have a hidden stash of weed in their drawers. It was like they were meant for each other.

Eddie was obsessed the second she walked up to him. Her Metalicia shirt was cropped, and small bleach stains were scattered. He smiled, knowing he had one just like it in his closet. But when he started to get to know her, he was so dead. He thinks he already loves her since the first day. and just kept falling. when she asked to join DnD and was somehow better than he was. He knew he was going to marry her.

During Y/N's junior year, she spent the whole time trying to make moves on Eddie. She cringed at how obvious her schoolgirl crush was, but he either wasn't getting the hint or did not like her.

Every morning when he picked her up, she had a big smile on her lips and a touch on his knee (that got higher each day): "Wow, Eddie, those jeans frame your thighs so well." She even fucking winked. He smiled and drove on, like she had not said a word.

Then, when they went to the pool, she did not bother to hide her staring. "Eds, your tattoos are always so fucking hot to see when you are on full display." She even trailed her fingers over the design. And nothing. He blushed and basically walked away.

She decided to bite the bullet and ask him on a date. If he said no, then at least she knew where he stood.

When Eddie saw Y/N walking up to him with purpose in her eyes, he had no idea what to think.

"Okay, Eds, I have the house to myself this weekend; want to rent some movies and hang out?" She twirled a piece of her hair with her finger. batted her eyelashes as she looked up at him. A smile lit up his face. "Of course, I'll go tell the group." Before she could correct him, he took off.

She signed, "I meant just us."

"So Y/N has the house to herself, so movie night at her place." Eddie announced as he walked into the video store.

"She never asked me." Robin protested, and Steve agreed.

"Well, maybe she just thought I'd tell you." Eddie shrugged.

"Well, did she tell you to ask us?" Steve said, "She always asks us."

"Well, no, but I just figured." He shrugged again. What is with the questions?

"Dude, you are telling me Y/N told you she has the house to herself, invites you for a movie night, and you think she wants us there?" Robin pipped me with an eye roll.

"Dude, she was so hitting on you." Steve smacked him on the shoulder.

"No, she is just friendly; she does not like me." Eddie responded back, but Robin was quick with an answer.

"Eddie, she does not flirt with anyone but you."

When he showed up at her house that night, alone, she was confused.

"I thought you asked the group?"

"someone told me the intention was for this to be a date?" He asked with a shy smile pointed towards her.

"Yeah, but I get it. You make it quite clear you do not like me."

"Why would you say that?" He asked confusedly; he loved her.

"I flirt with you, and you ignore me. I ask you on a date, and you ask the group. It's okay, though. We can just be best friends."

"You never flirted with me." He was even more confused.

"Eddie, when a girl is touching your knee, complimenting everything you wear, winking at you, touching your chest, batting her eyelashes, and twirling her hair, you know she's into you."

That night she finally kissed him, and he finally understood the feelings were mutual.

Now that it is senior year for the couple, they are more in love than ever.

Y/N was a bit more on the tough side, and Eddie was soft. She hated new people, but Eddie wanted to welcome everyone with open arms.

Being with Eddie meant watching people take advantage of his kindness. He is quite oblivious to the intentions of people around him. I mean, it took him two years to see she liked him. She loved and hated that about him.

And right now, the hating side has been flicked on.

Chrissy Cunnignham has been following her boyfriend around like a lap dog. It started with a deal. And Y/N thought that was the end of it, but she kept showing up.

Eddie and Y/N snuck out to the parking lot to each take their lunch together in the back of the van. They sat in comfortable silence when a voice cut in,

"OMG, Eddie! "There you are; I have been looking for you." Y/N rolled her eyes at the high pitched voice. Eddie smiled at the girl, and Y/N hated the jab that landed in her gut.

"Just having lunch with my girl, what's up?" She smiled at the fact that he reminded her that he, in fact, does have a girlfriend. Because Chrissy likes to forget that piece of information.

"Huge party this weekend; I want to invite you," Chrissy said to Eddie and Eddie only. Her eyes never drifted from his brown ones.

Eddie looked over to Y/n with a question in his eyes.

"Baby, want date night at a party?" She did not want to spend her night with Eddie at a party, but if he wanted to go, she would suck it up. She gave him a nod.

"We will be there."

After the little run in with Chrissy at lunch, Y/N felt a tad bit sour. She knows Eddie is hers, and Eddie only wants her, but that insecurity was settling in.

She shook it off and headed to Hellfire. She and Eddie are now partners in leading the campaigns. Her seat was always next to Eddie, so a huge scowl landed on her face when she saw a familiar ponytail sitting next to Eddie in her seat.

"Chrissy, welcome, but that is my seat." Y/N said it as nicely as she could.

"Oh well, I would prefer to sit next to Eddie." She giggled as she looked at Eddie.

Eddie was once again oblivious to Chrissy's disinterest in their relationship.

"Well, I do not care; I would prefer to sit in my own seat with my boyfriend." She did not care to be polite now.

The group was walking in behind them but stopped at the tension in the room.

"Well, if Eddie wants me to move, then I will move." Chrissy bit back, and she crossed her arms.

One thing about Eddie is that he does not like to say no to people, and he does not like to hurt people's feelings, except apparently his girlfriends'.

"Baby, don't be so dramatic; it's just a seat. The spare chair is in the closet." Eddie smiled softly, truly believing he could easily fix the situation. Chrissy cheered.

The boys gasped at his response. Dusitn went to say something, but Y/N gave him a look. With the biggest breath she could manage, she grabbed the chair and placed it next to Gareth. Her boyfriend could fuck off.

Eddie frowned in her direction, but his attention quickly returned to Chrissy when she asked questions about the campaign.

Y/N rolled her eyes every time Chrissy would cheer on Eddie.

"Look, if you want to cheer so goddamn bad, why not go to practice?" Y/N snapped. Dustin tried to hide his laugh.

"Babe, no need to be rude. She is having fun; if you are going to sit there and be mean, you should just go." Y/N felt steam coming out of her ears. Did he seriously just tell her to go home?

She bit back her response and clenched the dice in her hand. It was going to be a long night.

It got even worse. The news that Chrissy dumped Jason traveled fast.

Y/N had her theories of why this breakup happened so suddenly, but Eddie, of course, just wanted to help.

"Chrissy You deserve so much better. You will find someone perfect for you. I know it."

Y/N felt like her eyes never stopped rolling. She shot a glare at the back of Eddie's head as he hugged Chrissy.

It was the night of the party, and the couple was heading to the front door.

"We shouldn't have come. All she wants to do is flirt with you and act like you don't have a girlfriend."

"She knows we are together, and she is not flirting. She just wants a friend so be nice," Eddie warned as Chrissy opened the door with a smile and only pointed to Eddie.

Y/N felt her blood boil when Chrissy laced her hand into Eddie's and yanked him out of Y/N's grasp, dragging him into the house. Eddie's head turned quickly to his girlfriend, "Babe." He said it with a smile as he used his free hand to reach for her.

Y/N was very close to either killing Chrissy or Eddie. She understood that Eddie had no idea what was going on. He doesn't know Chrissy has been flirting with him for days. But she wanted to scream at him for being so stupid.

She was dancing with Eddie, finally having fun since Chrissy got occupied with hosting. Her hands were in his hair, their hips grinding into each other, and matching smiles took over their faces. They were lost in each other, making out in the middle of the floor. This is what she missed about Eddie—being with him in this way. He has been so busy with Chrissy that she feels like she's been pushed to the back burner.

"Can we talk?" She asked loudly into his ear. He pulled away, worried, and walked her out to the backyard.

They stood on the grass and passed a joint back and forth.

"I don't want to be that girlfriend that controls you or picks who you are friends with. But this thing with Chrissy needs to either be talked about or stopped. I am not comfortable with how she flirts with you, how she touches you, and how she always needs your attention."

"Babe, I told you there was nothing going on." He sighed

"I do not care if there is nothing going on; it is the fact that she is trying to make something happen, and you will not shut it down. I know you think everyone is just being friendly, but I am your girlfriend, and if I am telling you that I feel our relationship is being neglected, you should be working this out with me, not trying to tell me I'm making shit up. I bite my tongue a lot, but the times that it splits, you turn on me. You tell me to leave it alone and go home. Do you know how embarrassing that is? and seeing her smug smile because she's winning."

Y/N noticed her friend Robin making her way out to the yard with Steve following behind. Robin could easily sense the tension, and she knew Chrissy had been a pain in Y/N's ass, so she could imagine what was going on.

"She is not winning! There is no fight or competition. You are my girlfriend, not her. So I don't see why we are having to talk about this. Why would I want to even try with her when I have you? Just get over this insecurity and jealousy so we can move on from it."

Robin, Steve, and Y/N's mouths dropped. Chrissy once again popped up with a big smile.

"I'm feeling some tension here; maybe we should take a breather." Chrissy offered adviced as she put her hand on Eddie's back. That's when Y/N snapped.

"Get your fucking hands off of my boyfriend!" Eddie was quick to jump in front of Chrissy as Y/N marched towards her.

"Seriously, you need to calm down. You are embarrassing yourself and me."

Y/N felt every piece of anger leave, filled with hurt. It was like Eddie wasn't even himself. He was replaced with the shell.

"I pour my heart out to you. I tell you why I am upset with everything going on. And you first told me I was insecure and jealous, and now you are fucking protecting her? Are you saying I'm embarrassing you? What's embarrassing is how she chases you around. how she dumped her boyfriend just to try to snag you. She's fucking wearing a Metallica shirt, Eddie! with fucking black boots. I have almost the same outfit in my closet. She wants you! Why can't you fucking see that?"

Eddie honestly did not know what to say.

"Let's take you home." Robin said as she grabbed Y/N's hand.

Y/N was hurt, but he didn't bother to say anything, didn't bother to stop her, and never bothered to follow her to Robin's car.

He just stayed; he stayed with her.

Y/N took the time away from Eddie to breathe. She needed some space. So she waited until Monday to talk to him when he picked her up.

The only problem was that he never showed up. She begged Steve for a ride, and he said yes without hesitation.

She was relieved to see she made it on time. But her breath of relief hitched when she saw his van pull up with her in the passenger seat. She watched as they climbed out. Eddie looked like he was in the middle of a huge rant, then Chrissy's eyes caught hers.

If looks could kill, they would have murdered each other.

Y/N started to walk towards them, intent on calling them out, but she froze in her spot at Chrissy's next action.

"Okay, I think we need to take some space away from each other because if it makes my girlfriend uncomfortable, I need to respect that." Eddie explained as he pulled up into the parking lot and getting out of his van. He tried to call his girlfriend last night to tell her he was going to give Chrissy a ride to talk some things over, but she never answered.

"Eddie I don't get it. You had a fight, and she left, and you stayed with me. You obviously just showed her that you picked me. Respecting her wishes is all out the window now." Chrissy said as she peered over at her. an idea forming in her head. This was her chance to end their relationship once and for all.

Eddie went to protest when he felt her lips crash onto his. His eyes flew as wide as they could. He cringed at the feeling of sticky gloss coating his lips. He went to pull away, but her hand grabbed the back of his head to shove him closer. When he finally got himself free, he had no idea what had just happened. He was telling her they couldn't be friends, and she kissed him? That's when he noticed it; Chrissy was twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes, and he felt her touch in his chest.

"Oh fuck, you are flirting. Look I'm in love with Y/N so this will never happen" He stated as he pulled himself away. He messed up. His girlfriend told him over and over, and she was right. Chrissy didn't respect his relationship with Y/N. And he allowed himself to disrespect it in the same way.

He was quick to head towards the school, but that's when his eyes caught his favorite ones. She stood there, unmoving. Tears flowed down her face, her hand tightly holding her backpack strap. His heart dropped. She saw it. She saw her kiss him.

He went to move, but she was faster; she ran off into the building.

"BABY, WAIT!" he screamed as he ran after her. He followed her into the girls' bathroom; he didn't care.

She was sobbing into her hands on the floor. His heart shattered. He was quick to kneel in front of her. He grabbed her hands away from her face and wiped off her tears.

"Baby, I promise, I didn't kiss her. I didn't know she was going to do that. I'm so sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. You told me over and over, and I just chose not to believe you. It's just that I'm so goddamn in love with you that I don't even notice anyone else. I didn't notice her flirting because half the time I don't even notice her. I'm thinking about you. I'm sorry I called you insecure and jealous. You aren't; you were upset, and I should have made you feel better. "I promise with everything in me that I only want you, and I only want you for the rest of my life." He didn't notice that he began to cry too. He was so scared that he'd messed this up so badly that she'd leave.

"Please don't leave me, baby. I need you. Please don't," he was sobbing into her now. His face was tucked into her neck.

"I'm not going to leave you, baby." "I love you too," she said, kissing his cheek. She knew he understood his mistake now. And she also knew he was going to fix everything he cracked.

He pulled away with a sniffle. Red, puffy eyes met each other's on the bathroom floor. He leaned in for a kiss, but she pushed him back.

"Not until you get that 30¢ gloss off of you," she teased. He took it as seriously as he should have. and began to scrub the hell out of his lips. After about three washes, he went to her with a smile.

"Now?" He asked, and she nodded.

Their lips met in a needy kiss. Every once of love and passion was sent to one another.

As the couple walked out of the bathroom, they were definitely late for class now. Eddie spoke up.

"Just so you know, I'm marrying you."

~~~~~

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