#and i looked at him and told him very plainly
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moeblob · 6 months ago
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explaining to a coworker I don't socialize out of work bc of The Anxiety. then later explaining why i have gray in my hair.... it's... still The Anxieties...... goin' gray since my early 20s........
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totalswag · 4 months ago
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Long I love singer!reader as Sabrina carpenter.. what if, for the song Juno we have a pose just for drew and it’s like”drew have you ever tried this one” whole time yes we have because that’s our man😭
ever tried this one? ⎯ DREW STARKEY
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authors note ah thank you! this is very short but there's more posts coming very very soon. sabrina really gave me singer!reader vibes when i was writing the first fic. as i've said before, you can picture singer!reader however you want.
taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.
summary calling out drew in the middle of your show doing his favorite position.
warning(s) mentions of intimate positions.
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You are about to move to the front and surprise the audience with the legendary Juno pose. Since the first Juno position, it has been a small tradition―fans live for it.
The show has been going great so far. Everyone is having so much fun and so are you.
Slowly jogging to the front of the stage, avoiding falling on your face or injuring any body parts. You were prepared to show the position for this show because Drew, your boyfriend, was in the crowd. You arrested him before the song to make things interesting.
You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late night, I'm thinkin' bout you, ah, ah-ah
Wanna try some freaky positions
Smirking at the crowd as you begin to position yourself. You pretend to be straddling someone, waving your left hand in the air like a cowgirl, gently swaying your hips, and winking at Drew.
Cowgirl is one of his favorite positions and you thought why not.
"Drew have you ever tried this one?" Your cheeks turn red as you experience intense feelings.
You notice him from a distance in full shock. He was flustered, plainly unprepared to be called out so publicly, but a smile in his eye told her he enjoyed every minute of it.
The look on his face indicates it's going to be a very long night for you both―you aren't complaining.
Fans were waiting to see his reaction when you demonstrated the position. When you get your phone, you'll notice a number of videos from that night.
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kyber-crystal · 2 months ago
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10 things i hate about you || f.w.
summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality? 
words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE
warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love
a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )
add yourself to my hp taglist here!
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The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.
It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers.  Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center. 
“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”
“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly. 
“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”
“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder. 
“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”
“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air. 
A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand. 
“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”
You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.
“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”
You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”
“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article. 
“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”
“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.” 
“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”
“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”
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At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.
“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”
He took the book from your hands in response and closed it. 
“Hey, I was reading that—” you began. 
“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”
You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”
“I was going to suggest something else.”
“And what is that?”
“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”
“So you’re suggesting that, what?”
“That we say we’re a couple.”
“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”
“Why not?” 
“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”
“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”
You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.
“Fine, but only on one condition.”
“What’s that, love?”
“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him. 
Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”
“Dream on.”
He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”
“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”
“You’re on.”
So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights. 
Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.
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i. the pda competition, part 1
Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do. 
Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework. 
“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”
Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment. 
“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away. 
You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”
You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever. 
Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart. 
“What was that for?” you hissed. 
There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.
“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.
“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”
Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.
“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.
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ii. the pda competition, part 2
After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas. 
You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together. 
“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”
“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.” 
“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you. 
“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”
“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face. 
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly. 
“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened. 
“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”
“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”
“Not for long!” 
Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.
“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”
“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”
“With me, obviously.” 
“I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”
“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”
“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail. 
“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display. 
Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words. 
When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.
“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”
Again, Fred was left speechless. 
“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”
“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”
More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship. 
Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx
You were so going to win. 
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iii. the serenade
You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying. 
A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears. 
“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise. 
“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…” 
Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps. 
“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…” 
“What the—”
He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.
Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen. 
“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright
I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night
I love you, baby, trust in me when I say
Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray
Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay
And let me love you, baby, let me love you”
A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice. 
It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for. 
“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion. 
You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade. 
Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred. 
You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely. 
“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”
There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?
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iv. the nightmare
Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep. 
Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths. 
After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—
“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”
You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”
“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”
“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”
“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”
His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling  into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again. 
Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to. 
You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 
“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”
You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind. 
“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”
“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”
Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”
“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.  
“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”
“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”
“I’d like that.”
He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.
I’m here, whenever you need - F.W
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v. the hospital wing run-in
“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”
“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out. 
“What is it this time?”
“I broke my ankle.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing). 
She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”
You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.
“Guys—”
“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply. 
“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”
The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”
They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him. 
“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”
Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach.  “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?” 
“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space. 
Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”
“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”
“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”
“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.
“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”
“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.
“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”
“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.
“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”
“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”
“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”
“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”
“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”
“Oi! You can’t just—”
“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”
He ended up staying overnight. 
You didn’t protest at all. 
Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose. 
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vi. the howler 
For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him. 
He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.
“What’d I miss?” he asked you.
“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”
A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons. 
“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”
Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this. 
With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages. 
“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”
A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor. 
“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”
“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered. 
“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”
“And you thought this was the best idea?”
“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”
“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”
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vii. the pda competition, part ∞
As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other. 
You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds. 
Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).
“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”
“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”
“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”
“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.  
“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”
“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”
“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”
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viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)
It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.
“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?” 
You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb. 
“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”
“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”
“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”
“But—”
“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”
Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold. 
It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say. 
“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.
“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”
Your face burned. “What do you—”
“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”
“I…”
Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”
“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”
“Indeed, my lady.”
You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”
“I always look good, though.”
“I look better than your greasy arse.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”
Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. 
When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise. 
“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”
“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”
“Without a shadow of a doubt.”
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ix.  the thunderstorm 
The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes. 
“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”
You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….
It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…
A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore. 
As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”
“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it. 
“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”
“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”
“Oh—good point.”
“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?” 
“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”
“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!” 
“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”
The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”
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x. verum exeat (let the truth come out) 
The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it). 
But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small. 
“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.
“Not drinking?”
“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”
You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” 
“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.” 
“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 
“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.” 
“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”
“Do you not, really?”
“I do, but I—”
“You what?”
“I just hate him!” 
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”
You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”
“You…really mean that?”
You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”
“Y/N, I—”
Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole. 
“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”
“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder. 
“OW—”
“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped. 
“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”
Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.
Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for. 
A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.
Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.
“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on. 
“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. 
“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”
“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.” 
“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”
“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”
“Do what?”
“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”
“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”
“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”
“Y/N—”
“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”
“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”
“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”
Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”
And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon. 
You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real. 
And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end. 
“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”
“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.
“There’s no money on the line this time?”
“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”
“And what is that ‘something else?’”
“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”
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xi. the promise 
—FOUR YEARS LATER—
Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when. 
So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit. 
But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own. 
It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents,  Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans. 
Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring. 
Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear, 
“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?” 
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tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany
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asidian · 4 months ago
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I've seen a lot of talk about how breathtakingly devoted Charles is for walking down into hell to rescue Edwin, but one thing I don't think I've seen talked about anywhere is how astoundingly brave it was.
Put yourself in Charles' place, at this point in canon.
Literally all Charles has heard about hell is what Edwin has told him. And all Edwin's said, over and over again, for thirty years, is how terrible it was. It's the worst place with the worst people, and, well, Edwin trauma Olympics like a champ. Even if Charles doesn't know the full story, and he plainly doesn't, he knows that it's Very Bad.
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He's walking into an absolute nightmare, and he knows it, and he does it with his eyes wide open.
And then take a look at how he's getting there.
The last time he saw the Night Nurse, she forced him to relive his worst trauma in real time and was threatening to split the pair of them up - to drag Edwin back to hell herself.
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You can actually see Charles' expression shift when Niko suggests the Night Nurse look in his head again; he's afraid, and he's trying hard to mask it. He's afraid, but he's willing to let it happen, because he will do whatever it takes to get to Edwin.
So he stands aside and lets her poke around in his mind again, no matter how much pain she caused him the last time she was there.
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And then?
Then he's got to rely on this woman who has literally only ever done him harm to uphold her end of the bargain.
Add to all of that the fact that Charles doesn't know if he can do this.
The only time he forcefully tells Crystal no, without any apology or softening of the words, is when he tells her she can't come to hell with him.
That's because he doesn't know if he can keep her safe. He doesn't know if he can make it back.
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This is on the heels of the Devlin house, where he was able to do nothing to save the family trapped inside. It's on the heels of the Night Nurse showing him how powerless he is. It's on the heels of the Two Dead Dragons, where he spends the entire episode certain that he's a terrible person. It's on the heels of the debacle in the forest with Monty, where Charles is able to do nothing at all. He has to rely on Crystal to save the day.
He does not know if he can do this, and even if he can, he does not know whether he can trust the person letting him have a chance to fulfill her end of the bargain.
But he doesn't even hesitate.
He's going after Edwin because he has to go after Edwin.
He's got to. Because the alternative, leaving Edwin on his own again to suffer this fate he's suffered for too long already, is unthinkable.
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And so he walks into hell, and he rewrites the whole damn narrative with bravery and devotion and desperation alone. And that is so unspeakably lovely that I'm still not over it, all these months in.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago
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Epicentre
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Summary: You want your sister to be the best
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You have a big sister.
Sometimes, people at school tell you that she's not your real sister because she's adopted. But adopted means she's part of the family so you don't really understand what they mean by that.
But your big sister is your big sister and you love her a lot.
When you and Momma used to live in Germany, Sötnos lived back home in Sweden. She joined you all two years ago in England and when you and your mummies moved back to Germany, she had to spend her time in London seeing out the rest of her contract.
But now Sötnos is in Germany with you all too.
You think she likes Germany even though and she and Morsa don't really understand the language. It's okay though because she's got you and you understand German.
You're good at your languages.
Magda says that you're the best in the family at languages so it must be true.
You're the best at other things too like being a goalkeeper and bringing rocks to life.
Rocky, your favourite rock, sits on the shelf next to your bed so he can wake you up in the middle of the night if Magda tries to throw him out again.
She's not allowed to do that anymore because Pernille told her off but you want to be careful.
Careful like you are now as you wiggle out from under Pernille's arm in bed. You'd had a scary dream last night so she'd let you into the Big Bed to sleep with her and Magda.
But you're awake now, with an amazing idea to help your Auntie Frido with her goals in life.
You slip out from under Pernille's arms, shuffling towards the door. You freeze when there's movement behind you but it's just Magda flopping over onto her stomach, arms stretching up and around her pillow.
She always sleeps heavy.
You could draw on her face in permanent marker and she wouldn't even notice.
So your little feet go on their way, padding down the hall to the third bedroom in the house.
It creaks open and a head pops up from the bottom of the bed.
Sötnos' lamb looks at you, blinking once or twice before settling his head down again and going back to sleep.
The rustle is enough to wake your sister up though and Sötnos groggily rolls over to look at you.
"It's early," She complains," What's wrong?"
"I have important things to say," You say, fist buried in her blankets as you pull yourself into her bed.
"And they couldn't have waited until later?"
"No," You say plainly, settling on Sötnos' legs so she can't escape you," It is important."
Sötnos groans before flicking on her lamp and rubbing her eyes to rid them of sleep. "Go on. What is it?"
Sötnos is one of your heroes. After Magda and Pernille and Zećira, you think she's your favourite person in the world and you always want her to do well.
Auntie Frido says people that want to do well need to come to the best club in the world.
You know Sötnos wants to do well too because she left Sweden to go and play for Arsenal and you love Arsenal.
"You should live with auntie Frido," Is what you tell your sister.
"What?"
"Because she lives in Barcelona. That's in Spain, by the way."
She laughs. "I know that. Why do I have to live with Frido?"
"Because that's where you should play! So you can be the best!"
Sötnos laughs, pulling you into her arms properly. "You want me to move away from you?"
You pull a face. You hadn't thought of that. "I don't want you to go..." You say slowly," But I do want you to be the best. And Auntie Frido says Barcelona is the best. It has Tia Tana there and Ingrid and her silly girlfriend."
"You make a good point..." Sötnos says slowly and you nod along," But I'd like to stay in Germany with you. Is that alright too?"
"You-You don't want to be the best?"
"I can be the best here. How else would I become the best if I didn't have my favourite girl giving me so many pointers? You're very important."
You giggle, looking down bashfully. "Really?"
"Really," Sötnos agrees," We've got to develop together, remember? So we're on the Sweden team at the same time."
You nod. "Okay! I'll tell Auntie Frido that you have to stay here! It's very important."
"What's important?"
The door creaks open and light from the hallway streams into the room.
Pernille stands there, wrapped tightly in her dressing gown with messy hair sticking up from her head.
"Girls," She says, not waiting for an answer to her question," It's early. Why are you talking so loudly so early?"
"Momma!" You say," Good news! Sötnos is staying in Germany!"
"I...wasn't aware she was leaving?"
"That's good! Because she's not!"
"Right."
Pernille exchanges a look with your sister that you don't quite understand just as Magda's head pops around the doorframe.
"I take it all this excitement means that no one's getting anymore sleep?" She asks, trying to rub all the sleep out of her eyes. She blinks a few times, focussing on the way you and your sister are cuddling in bed together with a soft smile on her face.
Her gaze drifts down to the foot of the bed and her eyes go wide.
"What have I told you girls about letting the lamb in the bed?!"
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nyrasvoid · 3 months ago
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To Tame a Dragon
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♡ Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
𖤓 Summary: As the firstborn daughter of Rhaenyra, you and your family are summoned to King’s Landing under mysterious circumstances. Upon your arrival, you quickly discover that you’re betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, your strange uncle who never seemed to have an ounce of affection for you.
⚝ Warnings: Arranged marriage, Aemond being a cruel and possessive husband, degradation (uses of “slut” and “whore”), smut (with another lord for now but very short), manipulation, angst, toxic relationships, dub-con elements, slow burn and kinda enemies to lovers dynamic.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊ A/N: for now they kinda hate eachother and reader has a lover but dw cause she will actually end up with Aemond lol. Also if you have any suggestions for the following parts my inbox is open
Also I imagine lord Garrick as Jake Gyllenhaal but imagine him however u like lol
⭑ Word count: ≈2.3k
You and your family had arrived at King’s Landing under strange circumstances. The journey from Dragonstone had been long and tiring, and yet, no one could tell you exactly why you were being summoned to the Red Keep. Your mother, Rhaenyra, had tried to get answers, but no one seemed willing to speak plainly to her.
The moment you set foot on the steps of the Red Keep, you noticed it: their cold indifference. The greens did not welcome you, did not offer the courtesy that you expected from family. It was as if you and your kin had been erased from the family tree entirely.
“You see that?” Your brother Jacaerys whispered, his voice laced with disgust as he looked toward the hall where Aegon and the others stood. “Not a single one of them steps forward to greet us.”
Daemon, walking beside him, clenched his jaw. “They think us beneath them.” He didn’t bother to lower his voice, his words carrying the sting of resentment. “They are reminding us of who they believe holds the true power.”
Your mother’s eyes flashed with a quiet fury, but she said nothing, instead leading the way.
♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜
As you were escorted to your chambers by a guard, you exchanged a glance with your maid Ella, your trusted friend who had accompanied you on this journey. She followed you inside, her steps quick as she moved to help you settle.
“What do you think this is all about?” you asked her, your voice tight with frustration. “Why have we been summoned here?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, my lady. They haven’t said anything to me. But there is a feast tonight. That’s all I was told.” Her hands worked to remove your traveling cloak. “Let me help you get ready.”
You sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you. “A feast? At a time like this?”
She gave you a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s tradition, princess. You must attend.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was little you could do. You had to go. You had to pretend to care for the show, though your mind was filled with only one thing: why were you here?
♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜✦ ♜✦♜✦♜✦♜
The banquet hall was filled with lords and ladies, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and wine. You sat at the long table, feeling a knot of tension in your stomach. You couldn’t help but feel small in the green’s presence, especially as Aegon’s gaze drifted over you.
But the worst of it was Aemond. You could feel his eyes on you from across the room, but you refused to meet his gaze.
As you conversed with your brothers, the topic of the greens came up once again.
“Look at them,” Jace muttered, his voice low. “They think they can get away with this. Not even a word of greeting when we arrive.”
“They can all rot,” you said bitterly. “I can’t stand any of them.”
Daemon smirked. “But that’s what they want, isn’t it? They want us angry. They want us to break.”
You nodded, a sense of frustration building in your chest. “I refuse to bend to them. But I can’t even figure out why we’re here. What do they want from us?”
Before anyone could answer, a voice interrupted.
“Princess,” a lord from one of the great houses stepped forward, bowing slightly. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”
You blinked in surprise, but a smile quickly tugged at the corners of your lips. “I’d be delighted.”
The lord’s hand was warm as it held yours, and the two of you made your way to the dance floor. He was handsome, tall and with a charming smile that made your heart flutter. As the music played, you flirted with him lightly, enjoying the feeling of his hand on your waist and the way he made you forget about the tension at the table.
But across the room, you couldn’t ignore the sharp gaze of Aemond. It burned through you, dark and possessive.
Aegon, ever the troublemaker, leaned toward his brother, a smirk on his lips. “You know,” he said loud enough for Aemond to hear, “if you’re not going to make a move, I’ll happily do it. She’s got quite the figure, doesn’t she? Those breasts, I’m sure you’ve noticed. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her for myself, brother.”
“I think I’m capable enough of fulfilling my marital duties, brother” Aemond finally muttered, his eyes locked onto you with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine.
You returned to your seat after the dance, still smiling from the interaction, only for the King to call for silence. The room fell still, all eyes on him as he stood, ready to make his announcement.
“My lords and ladies,” the King’s voice echoed across the hall, “I have an important announcement to make. It is with great pride that I announce the betrothal of my granddaughter, to my son, prince Aemond Targaryen.”
You looked to your mother, but she was frozen, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Rhaenyra stood, her voice shaking with fury. “What is this? You did not consult me, didn’t even let me know this decision was being made. You rejected my proposal years ago of marryimg Helaena to Jace, and now—”
But the King cut her off. “The decision is final, they will marry. The advantages to the realm are clear.”
Rhaenyra’s hands curled into fists. “You think I’ll allow this?” she hissed. “You think I’ll stand by and let you make this decision without my consent?”
“Enough,” the King snapped, his voice cold. “This is for the good of the realm.”
The tension in the room was palpable as your brothers attempted to speak on your behalf, but the King remained unmoved.
You felt your heart break. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even bring yourself to say a word as you watched the man who had always been indifferent, cruel even, be forced into your future.
You stood quickly as you stormed out of the hall. You couldn’t stay there, couldn’t bear to hear any more.
You reached your chambers, the door slamming shut behind you as you threw yourself onto the bed, tears spilling from your eyes.
Not long after, you heard a knock at the door.
It was your mother, entering the room quietly. “Darling, I know this is difficult,” she said softly, her voice gentle. “But you must understand… this betrothal—it’s for the good of the realm. You will see that, in time.”
You wiped your tears angrily. “I don’t care about the realm, mother! I don’t want this. I don’t want him!”
Your mother sat beside you, taking your hand in hers. “I know. I know, my sweet girl. But this is the way it must be. For now, we endure.”
You shook your head, still crying quietly. “I don’t want to endure this. I don’t want him.”
She gave you a sad smile, kissing your forehead. “It’s not about what we want. It’s about what we must do.”
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The sun hung high in the sky as you met with your closest friends. Floris Baratheon, Lysa Tully, and Serene Martell were already sitting under the large oak tree. It was supposed to be a relaxing break from the madness of your betrothal.
“We heard, my lady. About the betrothal. How are you feeling?” Floris asked, her voice full of concern. She was always so direct, unlike Lysa, who was quieter but equally perceptive.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted, taking a seat next to them. “It feels like my life is already over before it’s even begun. I’m being forced to marry Aemond. A man I barely know, a man who doesn’t care about me. I don’t even have a say in it.”
Serene, leaned in. “Well, your life might not be over just yet. You always have the option of finding yourself a lover.”
You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at that. “A lover?” you echoed. “Maybe I could find one.”
Lysa chuckled. “Well, I’ve heard things about Aemond. The rumors say he’s cruel, that he’s got a temper, that he punishes those who displease him.”
Floris nodded, her brows furrowed. “I’ve heard those rumors too. And honestly? I don’t blame you for being upset. Who wants to marry someone like that?”
You sighed heavily. “It’s like my whole future has been decided for me. I can’t escape it.”
Serene raised an eyebrow playfully. “At least you’ve got options, my lady. You’re not trapped in the same way as us. Who knows? Maybe that lord you danced with at the feast would be the one to give you the freedom you’re looking for.”
Your heart skipped at the mention of Lord Garrick Redwyne, who had captivated you at the last feast. He was bold, charming, and you could tell he also took an interest in you.
“You know, you might be right,” you said, trying to hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “I did meet a very handsome lord at the dance. Lord Garrick Redwyne. We danced and… well, maybe he could be the one to offer me some much needed distraction.”
Floris snorted. “Aemond can’t even stand a chance against someone like him. I mean, honestly, have you seen Aemond? I’m sure he’s not good for much other than looking brooding and scary with that missing eye of his.”
Lysa and Serene laughed in agreement. “You should go for it,” Serene added, her voice low but encouraging. “Let him give you what Aemond never will.”
You paused, your mind racing. “I think I just might. It would be nice to have a taste of freedom before I’m locked in a marriage with a man who looks at me like I’m nothing more than a political pawn.”
The conversation turned lighter as you all continued to joke about the idea of lovers, but little did you know, one of the queen’s maids had been standing nearby, overhearing every word. The whispers would soon reach Aemond.
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Later that afternoon, you were summoned to meet with Alicent and some of the workers to begin organizing the wedding.
Alicent wasted no time in pushing her own ideas. “I trust you’re prepared to make the necessary sacrifices for the good of the realm,” she said sharply, eyes narrowing as she gestured to the workers. “This wedding must reflect the union of two great houses.”
You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “I understand, Your Grace. But I’d like to choose the color of my dress. I’d prefer red and gold.”
Alicent’s eyes flicked to you, her lips curling in a thin smile. “Red and gold? You do realize that’s a bold choice, don’t you? Quite revealing for a wedding dress.”
“Why, does it offend you?” you told her, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone.
“You are marrying my son, dear. A dress of green would be more appropriate.” Alicent’s tone was firm.
You crossed your arms, standing your ground. “I will not wear green. I refuse. If I must marry him, I at least want some control over my dress.”
Alicent raised an eyebrow, but your defiance seemed to catch her off guard. She stared at you for a moment, then finally sighed. “Very well, but make sure it isn’t too revealing.”
You smiled, knowing you’d won this battle, even if it was a small one. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
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That evening, as the grand hall filled with the sounds of laughter, you were heading to your brother Jacaerys to ask him something about the upcoming wedding preparations. But just as you were about to step inside, you spotted Lord Garrick Redwyne once more.
He smiled at you, his eyes lighting up in recognition. “Ah, princess, how wonderful to see you again.”
You couldn’t help but feel your heart race at the sight of him. His charm was undeniable.
“Lord Garrick,” you replied, smiling back. “I was just about to speak with my brother, but I’m glad to see you.”
His smile grew wider as he took a step closer. “Would you care to accompany me for a moment? Away from the crowds?”, he said as he extended his arm for you to hold onto.
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”, as you wrapped your arm around his and followed his lead.
He led you through the castle, past the grand halls and into a quieter corridor.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” Lord Garrick said, his voice low as he wrapped his hands around your waist. “I can’t help but wonder what it would be like… to have you, without all the politics, without the pressure of your betrothal.”
You took a deep breath, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” you murmured, your eyes locked on his.
Without another word, he kissed you—softly at first and then more passionately as the moments stretched. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as his lips moved to your neck. You let out a soft gasp, feeling a shiver run through you.
He moved lower, trailing kisses down your neck, and you gasped softly as he nipped at your skin. His hands were firm, his lips traveled lower still.
His mouth found its way to your most intimate place, and the pleasure was overwhelming, like nothing you had ever felt before. You moaned quietly, afraid of who might hear. You’d waited too long to feel this kind of release, this freedom.
When it was over, you both sat on the cool floor, catching your breath. “That was… incredible,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.
Lord Garrick smiled, kissing your forehead softly. “I will be here whenever you need me, my lady.”
For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to forget about Aemond, about the marriage that awaited you. With Garrick, there was no cruelty, no coldness. There was only heat, passion, and the feeling of being wanted for who you were.
As he gave you pleasure, you couldn’t help but think: Maybe I can have a life outside of Aemond, even if it’s only in stolen moments like this.
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The air in the gardens was thick with tension as you walked beside Aemond, the silence between you two almost suffocating. You weren’t looking forward to this forced interaction, but here you were, ordered by the queen to “get to know” the man you were supposed to marry. You had no interest in being his bride, and certainly no desire to get to know him any better.
Aemond’s gaze flicked to you now and then, but you refused to look at him. Finally, after a long silence, Aemond broke it.
“Tell me, why do you always wear that look?” Aemond’s voice broke the silence, his words laced with bitterness. “You’ve been sent here to wed me, yet I don’t see a single ounce of enthusiasm in your expression.”
You didn’t even glance at him as you walked, keeping your pace slow. “Maybe because I have been forced into this marriage” you shot back, the bitterness in your own voice matching his.
“I don’t owe you any pleasantries.”
His lips twisted into a small smirk, though it lacked any real humor. “Of course, you don’t. I suppose that’s why you’ve taken to speaking about me behind my back—saying things I’m sure you think I don’t know.”
You froze. Aemond wasn’t looking at you directly, his gaze focused ahead. You clenched your fists, not willing to let him know he’d struck a nerve.
“What are you talking about?” you spat, though you had a pretty good idea. The rumors, the jokes from your friends… Had they reached him already?
He shot you a glance then, eyes narrowing. “I heard you’ve found yourself someone to entertain you. I suppose it must be rather entertaining to joke about your… lovers.”
Your breath hitched. “What are you insinuating, Aemond?” you asked.
Aemond’s voice dropped to a low tone. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know exactly what I heard. You think I don’t know you’re running around with some other man behind my back? I heard of your little conversation with your friends in the garden. You’re quite the whore, aren’t you? Laughing about my missing eye and discussing your lover like it’s nothing.”
Your jaw clenched at his words. Whore. He had no right to talk to you like that. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. “You have no right of speaking to me in such way.”
You glared at him. “You want to talk about my lover? Fine. I’ll tell you everything. He makes me feel things you could never,” you hissed, taking a step even closer to him. “In fact, I’ve already lost my maidenhood to him.” Lies.
“You think that’s something to be proud of?” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re nothing more than a filthy, loose woman, and you’ll regret every second of it once you’re tied to me.”
“You think I’ll regret it?” you snapped back, “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Aemond. I don’t regret anything. Not my lover, not anything I’ve done before now. You’re just angry because I’ve found someone who actually knows how to please a woman.” That said, you turned around to retire to your chambers.
Aemond’s expression twisted into anger. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed your arm, spinning you towards him, forcing you into the nearest wall. You gasped in shock as Aemond pinned you against it. His grip was tight as he pressed you there, his face inches from yours.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Aemond growled. He gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. into a bush, his body trapping you against it. “Let me tell you something, princess,” Aemond whispered into your ear, he leaned in closer. “I’ll put a baby in you, and once you’re carrying my child, I won’t touch you again. You’ll be nothing but a vessel for my heir. And when you’re knocked up and useless to me, I’ll get myself a whore. A woman who knows her place. And I’ll bring her to the Red Keep, rub her in your face, and you won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.”
You were petrified as he pinned you against the wall, but he wasn’t finished. “If I find out who your lover is, if I find out you’ve been seeing him behind my back, I’ll make sure you never see him again. I’ll have him dragged out and humiliated, and you’ll never be able to hide from it. You’ll regret every little thing you’ve done.”
Aemond took a step forward, forcing you to tilt your head up to keep your glare locked onto his.
“You think you can humiliate me?” His voice was quiet. “That you can make a mockery of this betrothal? Of me?”
You scoffed, “You’re doing that all on your own, Aemond. If you’re so offended, then call off the wedding.”, you continued “You are a man, a prince I’m sure they will call it of if you object”
His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You think I would let you go that easily?” He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “You are mine now. No matter how much you fight it, no matter how much you despise me, you will stand beside me as my wife.”
A shiver ran down your spine at the way he said mine, but you refused to let him see the effect he had on you.
“You can have my hand in marriage, Aemond,” you bit out, “but you will never have me.”
Aemond let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that, wife.”
He turned on his heel, walking away without another word, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding in your chest.
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spacegyaru · 2 months ago
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DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT. 3
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your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (rin, isagi, chigiri) was all around the internet. how would they react?
cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. mirror sex on chigiri’s part + angst. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic from rin’s part!
a/n: this is the last part!! unfortunately, i don’t have that much energy to continue this series further and might start writing for another idea 😭🥺i hope u guys understand!!
masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, and yukimiya)
rin itoshi:
sorry to tell you guys, but his gf has to be a little bratty and naughty enough to provoke him into making a sex tape. i imagine him doing it out of jealousy, he wanna make you moan his name loud while he takes you all-fours and biting your neck a little bit. all after seeing how isagi was being a little bit too friendly towards you.
and that's exactly what people saw on the video. you remember your phone being pickpocketed while you were out for a shopping. when it got lost, rin scolded you a little bit, and reminding you of the video you guys made. you were the one who insisted that he shouldn’t think too much cuz ya boi was overthinking. but his hunches and gut feeling prevailed. the next few days, your name was all over the news.
rin’s team worked on the damage control. he was hesitant to post a public apology, but he did anyways. unlike his brother who has a ‘idgaf’ attitude, rin cares a lot; he cares a lot about his image and your image too. it’s just plainly embarrassing for him.
when you started isolating yourself due to the humiliation you were going thru, rin tried to comfort you.he was never good with words and may have appeared harsh the way he said it, but you knew what he truly meant. you gave him a hug and a kiss due to his attempt to comfort you.
“babe, i know how much you hated it whenever i say ‘i told you so’ so i’ll try not to make you feel worse. but try not to worry about what other people say. don’t check your phone too much. it doesn't matter what they think. what matters most is what we think of each other .”
yoichi isagi:
fuck, even i am wondering. how did this guy have a sex tape? well, it was your idea, but you didn’t think that your bf, isagi, would be super into it. both of you ended up making two-three sex tapes together. at first, it was embarrassing for him. but then once he’s inside you, he gets all pussy drunk and hell breaks. all that can be heard in the background was the loud bed creaks, along with your moans and his groans. your legs are all over the place, while he held your thighs. the lights were a bit dim, but both of your faces were visible.
the following week, you lost your phone while you were sightseeing all alone. you didn’t think that much of it. but the following day, that very same video you created with isagi, was all over the internet. both of your names were mentioned in twitter and apparently, he was placed in trending.
although isagi was very much embarrassed by what happened, he never blamed you for it. he asked his team to focus on the damage control while he released a public apology, addressing what happened. he explained that you lost your phone while on a trip, and are now taking the proper measures to track whoever did spread the video. isagi couldn’t stop apologizing. everyone knew how harsh he speaks whenever he’s at football matches but this time, he seemed like a dorky apologetic machine.
when isagi realized how humiliated you seemed to be, he immediately prepared a romantic dinner for the both of you, buying some wine and steak for the both of you to enjoy. he also bought a bouquet of flowers for you. then he rented a private ship for the both of you, so you could spend time together and get things off your head for a while.
“love, you don’t have to blamed yourself for what happened, you know? sometimes, there are just things that are out of our control and this happens to be one of them. let’s get this off your mind for now, okay?”
hyoma chigiri:
okay so if you wanna do anything new with this guy, you should initiate it because he’s very much of a vanilla. that’s how you ended up having a sex tape with him. the crazy thing is, he was the one holding the camera. you were riding him in a cowgirl position, your ass was bouncing as you went up and down on him. your room was surrounded by mirrors, so chigiri was recording your reflection. his hands were shaking as he was feeling too much pleasure from your pussy. so far, he was able to record almost everything, but he ended up dropping the phone when he orgasmed.
one day, you lost your phone after a long day at work, but then again, you didn’t think anything of it. you just thought of buying a new one instead. but then few days later, you suddenly see your boyfriend’s name on twitter’s trending. when you clicked the link, that exact mirror sex videos were all over the internet. you just sighed upon seeing those. you never expected them to reach online but here they are.
given the situation, you didn’t even have that much space to comfort yourself because you just saw how down and embarrassed your boyfriend looked. he was able to release a public statement, and his pr team did the damage control. but he was so affected by people’s comments about his masculinity. well, the question about this didn’t really matter to him, but what affected him the most is how people would say how ‘hot’ you are and that you deserve someone more dominating and masculine. he was more affected on what people say about you, rather than what people say about him.
so your night with him ended up being a comfort-fest. both of you lay on the bed with hands holding together while you reassure him that what other people said isn’t true. that you only need him to satisfy you and no one else. you thought your night would be sweet and peaceful. until your small cuddle moment turned into a heated making-out session with chigiri hovering on top of you.
“babe, i love how hot you are whenever you're on top of me. i love how your body bounces and tell me how you make me feel good. but what about let me do the work tonight? i'll let you feel every part of me while i dominate you.”
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selarina · 1 year ago
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tw angst, breakup
gojo satoru who’s just so used to kindness and patience from you because from the moment you met him, you knew you were soft for him. practically invisible mush. but things have changed now, he broke up with you. and he’s seeing you without the blue and white hues of kindness for the very first time.
it’s almost noble that he broke up with you. one could see it that way, but you see it as selfish.
you always knew his family and jujutsu society wanted him to marry someone with influence and power. marriage was a matter of politics after all.
but you didn’t really care. you knew what you were getting into after all. you’re not an impulsive person, you think deeply and rationally about these things. you didn’t jump face first into love, you slowly sunk yourself down further and further until you reached the riverbed.
so when he mentioned that his family was talking about marriage with Aya Tsukino, the infamous crystalline sorcerer — you were barely phased.
it admittedly hurt a little. you did always imagine a more traditional route with love — with altars, rings, vows, cakes and champagne. i mean, who doesn’t? but you saw reality for what it was and told him it would be fine.
that you would deal with it when it comes, that you would be okay being his dirty little secret if it was okay with ms. aya
but he’s a week away from the wedding — the biggest of the millennia so to speak, and he should be out there attending a celebratory party in his name, but he’s out here standing in your dimly lit bedroom breaking up with you.
you don’t react when he breaks up with you, that wasn’t when you started withholding your kindness from him. no, that night you gave him a measured response — i understand. no, you’re right. yeah, we can try to be friends. i understand. take care. and he surprised that you remained as calm as you always do, but he supposes he shouldn’t have doubted you.
but when he shows up on the day before his wedding — his excuse being he really wanted his jacket back — he sees you laced with anger for the very first time.
he can tell he’s interrupting but he doesn’t really care, he’s not the kind to but he’s especially not the kind to care when he’s practically signing away his love life tomorrow day. so he barges in regardless, and you let him.
he sees the opened bottle of wine — half-empty, a glass of red wine — half-empty again. a romcom of some sort up on TV, throes and throes of pillows and blankets on your couch. there’s a sadness that fills his already bleating heart up, but he doesn’t break.
he maintains the facade — he wants his jacket back, and he definitely isn’t here to see you.
you come out of your room — your expression neutral still as you say, “i can’t find it.”
and he believes it, but if you can’t find it, he needs to leave now and he doesn’t want to. so he insists that he needs it, because he “can’t sleep without it.”
and you frown, “you’ve been sleeping fine for a week.”
“i haven’t,” he says, plainly. you notice the dull blue from behind his black glasses and you think maybe he isn’t lying, so you merely nod as you go back into your room to scramble through your wardrobe.
it takes you about 20 minutes but you show up, and he notices the lack of a hoodie in your hand.
“couldn’t find it?” he asks.
“nope,” you respond. “are you sure it’s not with you?”
“i’m sure,” he says. “can you look agai—”
“nope,” you say. your voice comes out stern and he notices the reclusiveness in your posture. hands folded, and eyes almost a glare. “i think you need to leave. i'll send it with takashi if i find it.” takashi, your driver.
“but i need—”
“for gods sake — gojo. you’re a grown man. take a fucking pill or something.”
there’s no mistaking the anger in your voice now. no, it’s not just slight agitation, it’s anger. it's anger, and it's making you see things in shades of orange.
"what—" he says lowly, as he looks no worse than a kicked puppy. he reaches for his glasses, taking them off as you see his eyes for the first time in 2 weeks. they looks sad, but then again, they always had a certain sadness to them.
his eyes change now, ever so slightly, there's a certain anger brimming through the blue as he stares back at you now, "all i asked for is my jacket."
"well, if gojo satoru wants his jacket. i guess i should put my life on hold, and scramble across the earth to look for it, right?" you roll your eyes with a scoff. and he's taken aback. you've never been petty. you've never been this detached. not when it comes to him.
"not like i'm interrupting much," he speaks up and he knows that he's going to regret what he's about to say before the words even leave his mouth. "you're having a sob fest, if anything — me showing up here is helping."
"are you fu—" and then you laugh, but there's no mirth in your laughter. "how dare you even talk to me like that? you'r— you fucking break up with me. with your bullshit excuses. and then you have the fucking audacity to talk to me like this?"
"bullshit excuses? i broke up with you. for you," he yells back. "you would've been miserable, baby."
"i would've managed," your response is immediate.
"you were upset when aya kept kissing my cheek."
"i never said that."
"you didn't have to," he groans. "it's my- it was job to see that. and that's why i know you would've been miserable."
"i've told you this time and time again. i don't mind being miserable as long as i got to be with you. what's so hard to understand about that?"
"what kin- why? why even—"
"because i love you."
"what kind of love makes you debase yourself in such a way. it's fucking pathetic," he replies, and there's some contempt in his voice.
you see how he views you now more clearer — like you're some sad thing. like you're the world's greatest loser and you should dig yourself into a hole until you've moved on from him.
you're only used to love from him, and that made your decision to stay with him feel revolutionary — like you could've lived the worst life socially if it meant you could stay in love but now — now you're not sure about any of this.
"you would've been miserable. so i made the decision for us. you'll thank me one day," he says.
"maybe," you say with a sigh. you're tired and frankly all you want is for him to leave so you can chug the rest of that wine and pass out. "maybe, but it was our relationship. and you made this decision all by yourself. so don't ever blame me for our end."
part 2
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wilwheaton · 10 months ago
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For some odd reason, moderator Jake Tapper told Trump in the beginning that he didn't need to answer the questions and that he could use the time however he wanted. Trump ran with that, essentially giving a rally speech whenever he had the floor and was unresponsive to the vast majority of the questions. He made faces and insulted Biden to his face, at one point calling him a criminal and a Manchurian candidate. If anyone had said 10 years ago that this would happen at a presidential debate they would have been laughed out of the room. After the debate when most of the country had turned off cable news or gone to bed, CNN aired its fact check. [...] Even had Joe Biden been at the top of his game, he would not have been able to parry all those lies and he shouldn't have been put in the role of being Donald Trump's fact checker. His choice was to either ignore the lies and let them stand so he could use his time to make his own case or spend the entire debate correcting the record. It was not a fair fight. It's obvious that Biden's terrible performance has caused panic among Democrats and liberal pundits and analysts. The calls for him to withdraw are loud and meaningful and it's going to be a very rough period in this campaign whatever happens. For me, this isn't really a question. As long as Donald Trump is on the ballot, I will vote for the Democratic nominee. If it's Biden or someone else, the calculation remains the same. Nothing is worse than another Trump administration and I suspect that at the end of the day Democratic voters will agree with that. So it's still a matter of those undecided voters in swing states, just like it was on Thursday morning.
CNN's debate was no fair fight
CNN, yet again, gave Trump a national stage to vomit an endless stream of unchecked lies, and today, CNN is telling itself and anyone who will listen that the network and its moderators did a great job. That’s just plainly false, and America is paying the price for their failure.
That doesn’t let Biden off the hook. Biden had a terrible night. He was so bad, it’s allowed the political press to completely ignore not just how much Trump lied, but what he lied about: January 6, all his indictments, his Covid response, and on and on. President Biden was a disaster, and his campaign should be at DefCon 1 to try and repair all the damage. I am terrified that his awful performance will obscure his surprisingly good record and leadership in the post-insurrection era, and give the political press an excuse to run with “Biden is old” in the face of Trump’s endless lies, his felony convictions, his pending trials, and all of his criminality. Someone at Salon said that Trump didn’t win, but Biden absolutely lost. I can’t argue with that, even if the facts are all on Biden’s side.
I’ve seen President Biden on TV today, and even last night after the debate, where he didn’t come across as an ancient dude who needs a walker on his way to some Matlock reruns. He looks and sounds like the SOTU Biden we all expected would show up last night. I have no idea why he was so awful for 99% of the debate (the campaign says he has a cold), and I have no idea why the guy who is showing up to speak to supporters today, and who delivered the SOTU didn’t show up last night to save America from Trump, again.
But we have to live with this reality now, and I hope like hell that the Biden campaign, the candidate, and the entire Democratic party apparatus scrambles like fucking crazy to get all hands on deck to fix this, and remind voters that
This isn’t about BIden vs. Trump. This is about America vs. Project 2025.
There will be no second debate where Biden can try to salvage something out of the wreckage of this one. Trump has everything to lose and nothing to gain. Trump will crow about how he won, and declare he has no reason to debate again, and he’s right. Biden had one shot and he absolutely blew it. The moderators did not help, but the campaign had to have known they wouldn’t, and it sure looks like they didn’t prepare Biden for what we all knew was coming. I don’t know how those same people stop the bleeding, and if they can’t, America and the world are in real, real trouble.
But we all have to remember that we have a choice to make in just a few months. Right now, and probably on election day, the choice is between Joe Biden and Democracy, or Donald Trump and Fascism. It’s stark, it’s clear, it’s binary, and I can not believe that it is even a question. I just hope that there are enough voters out there who will understand that we do have a choice. The options suck, but we do have a choice.
Please choose Democracy. Please choose America. Please choose the future world our children will inherit from us.
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bisexualiteaa · 4 months ago
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Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.
On edge
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AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶
CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors
Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!
His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.
“Rough day?” You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.
“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.
You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.
You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.
You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.
So he caved.
You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.
When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.
“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.
“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.
It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.
You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.
You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.
What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.
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gracieheartspedro · 5 months ago
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Nobody Likes A Secret
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pairing: no outbreak rich older!joel miller x fem!reader.
how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters
word count: 3k words
description: a rich wealthy playboy who becomes enthralled by his neighbor's daughter. it never ends well when he can not fathom having happiness for himself.
warnings: ANGSTY!!!!!, age gap (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her mid 20s), wealthy!joel, neighbor!joel, reader is pretty naive and delusional, taboo relationship troupe, mentions of parent death, VERY BRIEF SMUT, joel is borderline evil and very mean. joel calls reader "kid". joel is also a liar. talks of having children.
author’s note: I wrote this all in like... two nights. I listened to illicit affair by taylor swift and nobody likes a secret by lizzy mcalpine a lil much and it ended up here. sorry if I make you sad.
You creep into the large 4-car garage, seeing Joel pacing the oil-stained floor. He’s still in his work clothes, but he looks a bit disheveled. His eyes are wild, his face downturned into a deep-set frown. 
“Joel? Everything okay?”
He shakes his head. “He knows.”
You know only one person who would ruin this. 
‘This’ being an 9-month-long affair with your older neighbor. Months and months of meeting in dark corners, hardly ever seeing each other in the light. 
“How?”
Joel fumbles trying to pull his phone out of his pocket, showing you the 5 missed calls from your Dad. You stare at it blankly, tightening your jaw at the possibility that your Dad is too smart for his own good. Shit, he does know, doesn’t he? He throws the phone down on a nearby leather couch that is positioned near a workbench. Joel was pretty good with his hands, but lately his mind has been anywhere but tinkering with wood in his garage. 
“He came over an hour ago. Sat me down and told me that he was getting suspicious of some outings you’ve had over the last couple months. Said he realized you were not going to the places you said you were going to. So he assumed you had a new boyfriend or something. Then last night…”
You curl your hands into a fist. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. Fuck,” Joel grumbles, running his hands over his face, dragging his lower lids down in frustration, “He said that if I know anything or see anything, I am to let him know immediately. He’s worried you’re fuckin’ around with the wrong guy.”
You had snuck out of your house last night and tiptoed your way into Joel’s car, which was parked in a nearby cul de sac. He promised you a nice late dinner in the city and then he ravished you in a hotel room you two didn’t even spend the night in. He brought you home around 4 am and you snuck back into your bedroom, ensuring nothing in your home was stirred. When you woke up the next morning, your father left you a note that he wanted to do dinner with you that night. Meaning tonight. 
You know this is detrimental, and while you do not want to freak out immediately, you can not help but feel like someone is stabbing you directly in the chest. Joel’s body language is giving off negative signals, so even though you want to hug him and tell him that you can talk to your Dad, you know it’s not going to change much.
Your eyes well with tears, thinking of how this was going to ruin everything. After months and months, you thought you were being so smart.
“We can’t do this anymore,” He whispers.
And God damn, did Joel hate seeing you cry. 
But the tear-filled eyes you are giving him are warranted. You don’t turn away from him like usual. You never wanted to show him any weakness. 
This time you confront him, your nose turning upward and your eyes full of disdain. 
“You said we were being careful,” You murmur, the salty tears falling down your cheeks.
“Not careful enough.”
The bitterness tastes like blood in your mouth. You want to scream at him but keep an even tone instead, “Joel… Just let me talk to him.”
“You knew where this was gonna end up,” He states plainly, his voice not wavering. 
And maybe he was right, but you enjoyed living in a loved-up delusion. Maybe it was the sex or maybe it was the looks he gave you from across densely populated parties you were forced to go to. You would put on a show long enough to make your father happy and then you would somehow sneak away with Joel. You knew if your father caught you with the much older man, he would lose his mind, so you were always cautious. You made sure the doors were locked. The moans would stay hushed. The car was parked far from your front door. And during the time spent away from the house, you would get a girlfriend to lie for you. You were always so careful. 
“Maybe he suspects it’s someone else.” you try to reassure him, but you know it’s falling on deaf ears.
“You know he knows it’s me.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
Joel rolls his eyes. He knows that your father’s words were simply a warning. If you two continued this schtick, you know better than anyone your father would find out. You knew he already kind of had eyes on you and Joel had caught on to a couple of neighbors watching him from their bedroom windows. He gives your father credit, he was thorough. 
“We have to stop.”
You did not realize how much your heart was banking on making this work. Joel was about 25 years older, so deep down, you knew that no one would accept the relationship. But in your wildest fantasies, you imagined you two would run away together. He had tons of money, you had nothing tying you down, and it could be a perfect escape. You had brought it up one night after you snuck over to his bed and he didn’t explicitly say no. He just giggled and continued tracing circles on your bare back. 
You bite the inside of your cheek, “So you just… don’t want me anymore?”
He huffs, already annoyed you were making it seem like he had a choice.
“It was never gonna work out in the first place, kid.”
You just stare at him. The nickname hit harder than it ever has. After months of sneaking around with you, Joel only ever saw you as that. A kid. 
“Don’t call me that. Ever.”
He notices the rise in your voice and quickly realizes he made a mistake. 
“Listen-”
It’s like every terrible emotion you have ever had comes bubbling to the surface. The resentment you held towards him when he ignored your calls some nights. Or when he refused to get near you at any party. You had your grievances, but you sat there like a good girl and just accepted him the way he was.
It’s like acid in your throat, it burns. 
“No, you listen,” You snap, “You don’t get to play the kid card. You chose this just as much as I did. You told me that my age didn’t matter. You told me that you would want children with me one day. You filled my head with all this bullshit and now when shit gets real, you walk away. You’re a fuckin’ coward, Joel.”
“My reputation and livelihood is on the line for this! You think I don’t still want those things?”
“If you wanted them bad enough, you would fight for me.”
It makes his face drop. His furrowed eyebrows relax and his mouth droops down into a subtle frown. 
You do not know where to go from here. The atmosphere in his garage rises with tension, words just hanging in the air. 
The Annual Miller Christmas Party was the talk of the town. Everyone who received an invitation would proudly display the cardstock on their huge fridges and show their uninvited neighbors to brag. When Joel came over to hand deliver you and your father’s invitations, he told you to wear something sparkly. 
You searched everywhere for the perfect gown for weeks. He had only really shown you attention when forced to be in the same room as you, so you needed to be eye-catching. He was never the guy to wave to you when he was leaving for work or say a quiet hello at the grocery store. Joel was a very regimented man. He never strayed away from his routine which was usually work, hookups with random women, and sleep. He never kept a woman around for too long. You noticed the circulation of women changed every month or so. Joel never wanted to settle down. He had tried that once 15 years ago and his ex ended up with half of his company. 
But you always loved the way the man carried him. Despite his playboy behavior, you were entranced with him. You always thought he was handsome and when you came home at 25 to help your mother who had fallen sick, you knew that your crush had morphed into borderline obsession. Living next to him would be dangerous.
The dress you chose was red, which was fitting for the occasion. And of course, it was sparkly. Just what Joel ordered. 
You spent all day preparing for the evening and when you showed up on his front door on your Father’s arm, he could not peel his eyes away. You were so radiant and perfect. The twinkle in your eyes shone brighter than the glitter on your gown. 
During the night, you drank a couple of glasses of champagne and chatted up some of your Father’s colleagues. You notice Joel’s eyes following you every so often. You can vividly remember thinking, “This man wants me so bad.”
That night Joel cornered you in the hallway by the bathroom. He asked you if you were interested in literature, but really he just wanted you alone in his study. You being you, you enthusiastically said yes and followed him down the unlit corridor. Once he shut the huge wooden double doors, you knew that you would be slipping out of that gown for him in no time. 
And that’s exactly what happened. 
He drove you crazy, peppering kisses all down your body. He would groan every time he heard your shaky breath, knowing that the effect he had on you would become a dependence for him. 
When he first pressed into you, it was different than any other woman he’s ever been with. You did not throw your head back, moaning obscenities. Instead, you stared into his eyes and nodded, encouraging him to continue his movements. It was so sensual and passionate, by the time you two finished, he held you in his arms for 20 minutes. He was never one for pillow talk or aftercare, so he surprised himself.
You were different than any other woman he had ever encountered. 
You had slipped over to his front door a couple of days after the Christmas party, knocking to ask his assistant if he was home. When she brought you into his office, he told his assistant to shut the door on the way out. His eyes never left yours as you bantered to him. He loved your confidence. He bent you over his desk after 10 minutes, tugging up your skirt and swatting your ass for showing up on his doorstep looking “this beautiful”. 
Joel always made you feel so good. His dirty talk went to Harvard. He could make you cum over and over with his husky Southern accent. Every time he called you “darlin’” or “princess”, you would come undone. 
A couple of months into the entanglement, your Mother’s health deteriorated overnight. You and your Father stayed by her side when she took her last breaths. It was devastating, seeing the woman you looked up to your entire life slowly slip away. You felt like a shell of a person, unable to really harbor any feeling other than pain.
Joel called you and let you know he would not be able to attend the funeral due to work commitments. You did not care, understanding that there’s never a good time for someone to die and he had no obligation to come. You arrived at the funeral home and saw a huge arrangement of purple and blue flowers. On the card, was scribbled in his handwriting. 
“What a breath of fresh air she was. Thinking of her family, always. Joel Miller.”
When it was time for the burial, you watched a large SUV pull up right before the final words were going to be spoken. Joel hopped out the back and slowly approached, keeping his distance from you and the rest of the attendees. Once she was lowered into the ground, Joel came over to give his condolences to your inconsolable father. 
You stayed back, watching everyone except him leave. You sat in the first row of fold-out chairs, watching them throw dirt over her casket. He sat down next to you, never saying anything. His hand extended out, touching your hand that was resting on your lap. It was an unspoken thing, but you never felt more seen in your entire life. He somehow knew exactly what you needed. 
Someone next to you.
After a couple of months, you felt more like yourself. You called him one night, asking if he was available for a drive. He parked his truck in your usual meet-up spot. You crawled up into the passenger seat and asked him to drive. You did not care where. You two caught up and once he could tell you were getting back to some semblance of yourself, he made his move. He was stopped at a red light when he placed his hand on your thigh. It was the first time you had sex in his truck. That night kickstarted the affair again, which led to the secret meetings in hotel rooms. You two got more bold with your rendezvous, even taking a weekend to the mountains. You don’t even remember the lie you told your Father as to why you were gone. 
Joel always thought you were capable. He admired you for being such a dynamic woman. To be so strong and delicate at the same time was unheard of. Even though you were much younger than him, you were well-versed in everything. You were professional and smart when it came to business. All the while, you were polite and empathetic. He would frequently come to you when he needed advice about work or an opinion on something ethical. He enjoyed hearing you ramble on about things you were passionate about. And God, did he love your laugh. 
He did not expect to keep you around as long as he did. But your body was like a drug and Joel had a nasty habit. You were always eager and available, and after a while, Joel started thinking maybe it was too much all at once. When you became comfortable enough to sleep over in his bed and make him breakfast, he knew his world was tilted on its axis. 
He needed to find a way to ruin it for himself, as he had done so many times before. 
He “slipped up” one night. As he and his chatty neighbor Jeff sat outside and smoked cigars, he spoke about his desire for you. He didn’t particularly say that you two were together, but simply insinuated that he would like to have you alone. And the rumors spread quickly. Soon enough a little birdie was in your Dad’s ear, feeding him information. 
Joel kept up the act with you, even though it was not really an act. He did like you, hell, he may have even loved you. But he did not want you to need him. So when people started paying more attention to you and him, he knew his plan was set in motion. In no time, it would all come crashing down. 
“If your Dad takes this to the board, I will lose my company. Do you understand that?”
You hated that you understood stupid business jargon. You knew that Joel losing his company would be devastating. But at this point, you could not care less. Because for as long as your affair, you watched his walls fall away. He had let you in more than once and in your delusional state, you believed for a second that he would choose you over his job. 
You clench your teeth as you suck in a sharp breath, tears still streaming down your warm face. 
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then we just end it. This has already gone too far.”
You finally turn away from him, your eyes falling to the concrete floor. As soon as he says those words, chills run down your arms. 
“You know Joel…” You drift off, using your shirt sleeve as a tissue. You wipe away a couple of tears and glare back up at him, “I would have given up everything in my life for this. My job. My relationship with my father. Everything. And the fact that you won’t even give me a chance to talk to my Dad to see if he could spare you and this whole charade, really fucking hurts. I’m not worth that to you and that… That’s what hurts the most.”
“Babe-”
“No. You don’t get to call me that anymore. You don’t get to call me anything.”
The tears flow again as you watch him exhale, his hands on his hips. His hair is unkept and the tie he’s wearing has been loosened. 
“I’m sorry,” Is all he can say while your lip quivers. You are trying not to lose it completely. 
You just shake your head, “No. You’re not sorry.”
He was. He was sorry, but he could not let you ruin everything. 
Joel would soon know that you were everything. And as you left the back door that evening, leaving behind the scent of your perfume, he knew that the smell would somehow taint his sheets, even though you had not been in them for weeks. He already started to miss the feeling of your lips. When he tried to go about his evening, he swore he would see you in the shadows of his large house. He even thought he heard your laugh. You were already haunting him even though the death of your relationship happened just hours before. 
You moved on after a couple of years. Met a guy at your 9-5, settled down, and popped out a few kiddos. Some nights you would lie awake, wondering to yourself if Joel was really happy. You never learned the truth of his deceit. After all, your Father was just grateful that his warning to Joel led to his desired outcome, which was him being gone from your life entirely. 
And Joel would be haunted for the rest of his life. No woman. No drugs. No party. Nothing ever filled the void you left behind. And it was all his fault. Just like it always had been.
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gotta-winwin · 5 months ago
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2019 debut year <> you do too much
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word count: 3.7k TW: body image, overworking, swearing, angst italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin
౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ
Cyana never meant for it to get this far.
It had started off pretty mild, she'd wake up earlier than usual, take a morning run to the company and get a head start on practice. She'd stay later than the others too, insisting they go home without her and that she'd join them a bit later. Just one more time, she'd say, as she cued up the song once again. Just one more time, she'd say again after that, and by then it would already be close to midnight.
She stared at herself in the mirror, shaking with frustration and fatigue. Her chest heaved harshly as she tried desperately to calm her breath.
Hoshi shot her a worried glance. "Nana, take a break."
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
"Practice is done anyways. The car's ready, pack up." He grabbed her hand to drag her towards their things.
Cyana shook her hand out from his grasp, shooting him a tired smile. "You can go first, Soonie. I'll stay a little bit longer. I want to try Getting Closer again."
Hoshi frowned at her words. "We've already stayed late, nana-yah. Everyone's already left. And you've been staying late for the past two weeks. Let's take a break, okay?"
She shook her head stubbornly. "It's fine, really."
He looked at her apprehensively, not quite believing her. Sighing, he reluctantly agreed, knowing there was no stopping her. "Please be home by at least two am."
She nodded absentmindedly, already turning back around to cue up the track. She made sure Hoshi really had left before continuing, concentrating on perfecting her angles and facial expression. She had failed the company test - when the higher-ups came and decided she wasn't good enough - her ego burned from the hit and she vowed to work even harder. The members had told her she was already amazing, but she couldn't believe them if the company officials didn't think so.
She hadn't told any of the boys she hadn't been returning home. Most of her essentials were stored safely in one of the drawers in their practice room - saving her both the time and energy it took to return home. This way she could wash up and change before immediately getting back to practice.
"Oh, Jeonghan oppa." She answered when he called her phone.
"Nana, where are you?" His voice sounded muffled and tired. "Hoshi texted and said you're still at the company."
She checked the time. 3:26 AM. "Oh. I decided to crash at Mingyu's place." She lied, wincing. She hated lying to him whenever he called to check in. It was pure luck that no one really ever confirmed with Mingyu that she had actually been staying over. "I'm about to go to sleep. You should too, oppa."
She heard Jeonghan sigh in relief. "Okay, good. Goodnight, Nana." He hung up, probably way too tired.
Placing her phone back down on the floor, she glanced once again at the time. It was late. Her body was sore and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. Dragging her feet towards the connected washroom, she was glad they'd installed showers. Cleaning herself up and changing, she returned back to the practice room and crashed on the couch. Just a couple hours, she thought to herself.
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"Cyana."
She opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness and letting out a groan. "What time is it?"
A very confused Dino stared back at her. "7 AM." He helped her to sit up, frowning when he saw her wince. "Why are you sleeping here?"
Her eyes widened when she remembered where she was. She inwardly kicked herself for oversleeping. Usually she was able to wake up, get ready and change before everyone else began arriving. They always just assumed she had been the first to arrive. "I-" Feeling rather caught, Cyana could only stare up at Dino wordlessly.
He seemed to catch on rather quickly. "Cyana." He looked at her, disappointment written plainly across his face. "Have you been living here?"
"No!" She protested, knowing he'd 100% tell Jeonghan if she admitted to it and Jeonghan would 100% kill her. "I was just practicing last night and fell asleep, that's all."
He gave her a weird look. "Alright, just-" He sighed. "You really don't need to be pushing yourself so hard. You're already ready."
Cyana gave him a hard stare. Perhaps it was the pain or the lack of sleep, but her nerves were wearing thin. She pushed herself off the couch, walking to the washroom. Splashing water on her face, she attempted to wake herself up.
"Please don't tell the others." She begged Dino once she returned. "Please please please." He looked unconvinced. "Please." She said again. "They'll kill me and you know it."
He sighed. "Fine." He pointed a finger at her, his poor attempt at being stern. "But you've got to promise me it's the last time."
"Got it." She promised, although she knew she'd probably end up breaking it. "Thanks, Chan."
He laughed softly, wrapping his arms gently around her waist, frowning when he felt how skinny she had gotten. He was about to comment on it when the practice doors opened and a hoard of members rushed in, all still slightly half-asleep.
"Aigoo~" Seungkwan cooed at the position they'd caught them in. "Our maknaes are so cute."
Dino flushed, trying to pull away but pausing when he realized Cyana was leaning on him, her eyes closed.
"Is she okay?" Jun mumbled, sipping on his ice coffee and glancing at the girl.
"Hm?" Cyana opened an eye, jumping a bit at the sudden appearance of so many people. "Oh! You're all here."
"Yup." Vernon walked over, ruffling her hair. "You ready?"
She sighed, reluctantly detaching herself from Dino, shivering at the loss of his body heat. "I guess."
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Jeonghan had thought something was off from the way Cyana sounded over the phone. She sounded sick and incredibly out of it, her words slurring slightly as she spoke to him. He would've pressed the girl for more answers, but Hoshi's text had woken him up mid-sleep and he was aching to the state of passing out.
Even as they started practice, Jeonghan's mind drifted from the choreo over to Cyana. His mental list of things wrong with her had been gradually growing over the week and he was getting concerned.
Jeonghan's mental list with things that are wrong about Cyana:
She's been saying over at Mingyu's a suspicious amount. Sure, he could understand, the Minwon residence was easily the quietest out of the bunch, and Mingyu was Cyana's closest friend. He figured Wonwoo was in his room most times anyways.
The amount of canceled plans the boys have been complaining about to him was increasing. It felt like every couple days, at least one member would approach him requesting a therapy session, where they just complained about how Cyana was ditching them for their usual hangouts.
He rarely ever saw the girl anywhere but the company. Under any other circumstance it would've been normal, but Cyana had expressed before she hated the feeling of captivity the company gave her.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat something.
He could've continued listing reasons in his head, had it not been for the loud thud and a piercing screech that followed it. He froze mid dance move and spun towards the noise.
Cyana was on the floor, Woozi a mere step away from her as he crouched down to examine her. DK was apologizing for the loud scream, although he continued to panic loudly.
"I think she fainted." Woozi concluded, voice calm. His furrowed eyebrows were the only sign he was worried.
"Fainted?" DK gasped out loud.
Mingyu reached down and scooped the girl into his arms, depositing her on the couch. "Yeah, she's out."
"Is she injured?" Seungcheol asked, hovering over her as Mingyu checked. He sighed with relief when Mingyu shook his head. "It was a loud thud."
Jeonghan let out a groan of both realization and disappointment.
"What." Seungcheol whipped his head around at the sound of Jeonghan's groan. "Do you know something?" He pointed at Cyana, who was still laying limply on the couch, head supported by Mingyu's large hand. "Why is she like this?"
Jeonghan raised his hands in defence. "I only suspected. I mean- I thought it was weird she was sleeping over at Mingyu and Wonwoo's so often recently but-"
"What?" Wonwoo cut him off. "She hasn't been over since-" He flushed at the memory. "Since she hurt her ankle."
And all at once, the pieces seemed to fall into place in Jeonghan's mind.
"She's been living here, hasn't she." Dino beat him to the punch, stating what he had just realized. "I found her here asleep when I came in this morning."
They all turned to Seungcheol, who seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at Cyana.
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Cyana awoke just in time to see Seungcheol leave, the practice room door swinging shut behind him. She struggled to get up, as strong hands grabbed her and situated her to lean back. A bottle of water was shoved wordlessly into her hands by Vernon, already opened.
"You scared us." Mingyu muttered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
She was vaguely aware of the other boys standing around her. Her ears still rang but she could faintly hear Woozi talking to Jun.
"I swear I tried to catch her. I didn't let her drop on purpose." He was defending himself to a wary Jun. "I'm not that mean."
She would have smiled at how defensive he sounded had it not been for the glowering face of Jeonghan, who was staring holes into her skull.
"Everyone out, please." Jeonghan signalled the others to give them the room. He sat down next to Cyana, letting out a loud sigh once everyone had left.
She knew she was in for it now.
"You wanna tell me what's been going on?" He said quietly, rubbing the seam of her sleeve between his thumb and index finger. "No lies this time."
She felt a lump form in her throat. "Jeonghan-"
"I'm not mad, Cyana." He looked at her sadly. "I just want to know why you haven't been taking care of yourself."
On any other occasion, she would have argued that he was mad. He hadn't used 'Nana' when saying her name.
"You haven't been staying at Mingyu's, I know that for a fact. And you've been canceling plans with the members. You also haven't been eating well. Jun says you rarely take the breakfast he sets aside for you." He continued, frowning when he saw her eyes well up with tears.
"I'm sorry." It was all she could muster.
"I don't care that you lied, Cyana." Jeonghan wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb. "Just tell me why. Are we doing something wrong?"
She shook her head frantically. "No." God no.
"Then why?"
She finally looked up from her lap to see him, feeling an ache in her chest when she saw how desperate his expression was.
"The company officials-" She paused, and Jeonghan nodded for her to go on. "they said I wasn't good enough. Not quite good enough to debut with seventeen. They said they had a lot bet on me but I was disappointing them."
She got worried when he stayed silent. "Oppa?" She whispered, reaching out tentatively to shake him.
He laced his hand in hers before she could reach him. "I'm sorry they said all that." He turned to look at her, a serious expression taking over his face. "But you know they're wrong, and even if you think they're right, you shouldn't have risked your own health like that."
Cyana nodded. "I know. I just-" She tried to find the words to explain. "I just wanted to debut so badly. I wanted to look good onstage next to all of you." It was a lame explanation but it was the best she could give.
"I know." Jeonghan nodded. "And you will." He pointed at the large mirrors on the wall in front of where they sat. "I watch you dance with us everyday through those mirrors. And you look beautiful. Full of talent and raw power."
She let out a shaky breath.
"Is that why you haven't been eating your meals?" He asked, looking back at her. "Did they say something about that too?"
She nodded. It was perhaps the comment that had hurt her the most. "They said I looked too heavy. That I was supposed to be a girl member. Not a boy."
Jeonghan let out a huff. "Who the fuck-" He muttered, almost to himself. "Give me the names of the people, I'll talk to them."
Cyana smiled despite the heavy setting. "They're higher-ups, Hannie. You can't do anything."
"Psh." Jeonghan waved away her concern. "Still. I'll write their names down and get rid of them once we're big enough."
She supposed she admired his optimism. "Okay." She relented. "I'll find their names and text them to you."
Jeonghan leaned his head on the crook of her shoulder, slouching a bit to reach it. "You know we love you, right?"
She didn't say anything.
"You don't have to believe it now." He said softly. "I know you're a bit weird about stuff like that." He squeezed her hand firmly. "Just need you to hear it."
She nodded. "Okay."
They sat in silence for awhile, and Cyana's ears stopped ringing. "Where did Seungcheol-oppa go?" She whispered, curious but not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment.
Jeonghan cracked an eye open from his spot on her shoulder. "He's dealing with it his own way."
"Dealing with what?"
He sat up straight to look at her. "You fainting. He's our leader, he's going to feel the responsibility."
She frowned. "It's not his fault though."
Jeonghan shrugged. "It's just how he works. He's going to blame himself for not noticing it all sooner either way. Even if it's not his fault."
She stood up, swaying a bit before steadying herself. "I'm gonna go look for him, is that okay?"
She could swear Jeonghan was smirking a little. "I think he'd like that."
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She found him in one of the empty studios. Seungcheol was sitting on one of the chairs when she walked in, head in his hands. He got up quickly once he heard the sound of her footsteps.
"Cyana." He breathed out, thankful she was okay. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." She whispered, sitting down and motioning gently for him to join her. She watched him hesitate before he sat down next to her.
"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard." Seungcheol scolded her.
"I know."
"And you should've told someone you weren't going back to the dorm. You should've let me know how much you were struggling."
"I know."
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Tell me what happened. Everything leading up to today. I assume this has been going on for awhile."
She could tell from his face he meant business, so she told him without a fight. She recited everything - the skipped meals, the ditching hangouts, the sleeping in the practice room, the toothbrush and skincare hidden in the drawers - all of it. She saw his face twist in pain when she got to the part about the company officials.
"You should've told me." He whispered, once she was all done.
"I thought perhaps you didn't want to know." She admitted.
He looked astonished she would even say such a thing. His mouth opened and closed again as he reconsidered his choice of words. "I'm your leader, Cyana. I care about this team."
"And I'm doing my job." She said, not getting what he meant. Wasn't SEVENTEEN doing quite well? And the team would do even better if she was perfect for the comeback.
Seungcheol didn't know if he wanted to strangle her and cry. "Let me reiterate." He looked at her. "I care about you, Cyana. Not the comeback."
She blinked. "Oh."
He felt more like crying, Seungcheol decided. She looked so fragile and confused at the mere thought of him even caring about her. A burning sense of rage fuelled through him. Who on earth had taught her to be so skeptical of care and love?
Cyana panicked when she saw the tears in Seungcheol's eyes. "Please don't cry." She whispered frantically, not knowing what would happen to her if she saw the dependable and strong Seungcheol break down.
"Our maknae~" Seungcheol whispered back, reaching over to brush his hand against her cheek. "Maybe I didn't do well enough, to show you you belong here. I tried being a strong leader, guiding everyone through the comeback, letting you adjust to how busy life in SEVENTEEN can be. But maybe you needed more of a gentle touch? Something more personal?" At this point he seemed to be talking to himself. "I know I didn't really take the time to connect with you on a deeper level like the others did. I was so focused on guiding you through work. I must've done something wrong, if you felt like you needed to hide this much from me. Push yourself this far."
Cyana's lips trembled as she desperately held back tears. "It's not your fault."
"It is." Seungcheol corrected her quietly. "I always strived to be a leader you could tell anything to." He paused, looking at her with sad eyes. "I'm sorry you felt the need to break yourself so much to make this comeback happen. I'm sorry the company said such harsh things. I should've noticed."
Cyana felt the sudden strong urge to give him a hug. It confused her. She only ever felt comfortable enough to initiate any sort of contact with Jeonghan, Dino, Joshua or Mingyu. Yet, when Seungcheol finished his speech and looked at Cyana with those sad, wide eyes, she decided perhaps she could make an exception. She leaned slightly in his side, stiffing slightly when his arms wrapped around her frame.
"It's not your fault." She managed to say again, telling herself to relax into his hold.
"I know it's not logical."
Cyana let out a breathy laugh. "I am sorry I lied to Jeonghan."
"I know." Seungcheol pulled her a little closer. "Please don't ever do this again. All of it. You're much more important than a silly comeback."
She nodded. "I won't."
"I'll talk with the company about the whole test thing. They shouldn't have done that, or said those things. And you need to start eating." Now that he was hugging her, he could feel just how malnourished she was. He felt as if he could accidentally snap her just by moving the wrong way. "I'll talk to the stylists too. Everyone needs a good reminder that you're part of SEVENTEEN forever."
Cyana's face flushed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled again, feeling bad for making him so worried. "I didn't know it'd hurt you so much."
Seungcheol let her go, giving her a sad look. "I hated seeing you like that. You were so pale and fragile."
She didn't know what to do with the amount of loving words she was receiving today. She looked away awkwardly. "I'll be more careful now, I promise."
She could hear the smile that overtook his face despite not looking at him. "Good." He said. "Start getting it into your head that you're important."
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Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol monitored her as she cleared out her drawer and any other sign that she had been living in the practice room. She promised them both that she'd return everything back home and that she'd keep them there.
"You scared me." DK whined. "I thought you'd died."
Cyana was grateful at how lighthearted the atmosphere was once her and Seungcheol had returned to the practice room. Everyone was still obviously worried, but they seemed to have all decided not to sour the mood further. Everyone had noticed the watery eyes from both Cyana and Seungcheol as they returned but pretended not to.
"I'm sorry~" Cyana smiled at DK's dramatics.
"Ah, hyung- it was your scream that scared me the most." Dino butted in, cackling at the memory. "I was mid move and I heard a blood-curdling cry. I thought I was in a horror movie."
The others laughed along, each of them relating to the younger boy.
Joshua sidled up to Cyana amidst the chaos Dino's remark had brought, holding her waist to support her as his eyes roamed her face for any sign of lingering fatigue. "You sure you're alright?"
Cyana nodded, grateful for the warmth radiating from his body. "Yeah. Sorry."
He shook his head. "No more apologizing. Just join Hoshi, Seungkwan, Myungho and I for dinner later today, okay? We're going to check out this new restaurant Hoshi found online."
"Okay."
From the other side of the room, Seungcheol clapped for everyone's attention. "Okay! We're resuming practice!" He looked at Cyana. "You're going home." He pointed at her. "Don't argue with me."
"What?" She protested. She was feeling fine. "I'm fine!" She insisted.
Her remark was met by a roomful of protests, even Woozi and Wonwoo joined in as everyone told her to get the fuck home.
"No really!" She protested again once the noise died down. "Please, Coups-oppa. I won't push myself too hard, promise."
She watched him think it over. She could practically see it as he fought himself. "Fine." He finally relented. "But-"
She paused her celebration.
"You're sitting out for practice. You can watch and take notes, but no dancing."
She sighed, but she knew it was the best she was getting out of him. "Fine."
As she sat on the couch, notebook in hand as she took notes on the performance, she couldn't help but glance towards their leader. He was working hard, giving 120% like he did with everything he put his mind to. She felt a glow of gratitude towards him. For a second, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps she did belong here, with these people. And perhaps him and Jeonghan were right - those people had just been mean and she was already good the way she was.
author's note: wahhhh thank you so much for reading! this one was quite a ride - writing about scoups as the leader always sends tears to my eyes, we truly don't deserve him. next fic is cyana's debut fic (finally!)
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slytherinsimp12 · 10 days ago
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𐙚⋆°。⋆♡ 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱 , 𝓹𝓽-2 𐙚⋆°。⋆♡
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Pairing: James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: The day after you and James share a kiss, he invited you to watch him play quidditch. You get jealous seeing him with another girl. You meet his friend group. Things don’t end well.
Warnings: Lily is mentioned as James’ friend for the sake of reader x james,( I love jily), Cursing , Rude Sirius, Angst towards the end.
Author’s note: Hi cuties xx. I hope you enjoy pt.2. I’ll be posting pt.3 soon. Feel free to leave comments or send requests if you have any suggestions/improvements/ ideas for this pt and pt-3. Follow me to keep up the updates. <3.
Part 3 (finale) uploaded!
Part 1 and Part 3
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You woke up to the sound of your dorm mates bubbling over today’s quidditch match. Your head was throbbing with pain; you barely got any sleep last night. Then it all came crashing back to you, the late night stroll that lead to your kiss with James Potter. Bloody hell. Did it really happen? Or was it just an extremely vivid dream. Dubious about the accuracy of your memory, you got up and quickly got dressed , and headed to breakfast.
The great hall was filled with the chatter of excited students; they were all raving about today’s match. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Well that explains the dung bombs last night.
Your palms were sweating with nerves, you were so not ready to see him yet.
Right on cue, you spotted James sitting with his friends, and stuffing his face with food.
“I’ve got to fuel up for the match. D’you think having this amazing body was easy?” James gloated coyly.
Your stomach filled with butterflies, how pathetic. There James was, an arrogant git, attacking his food like there was no tomorrow. Yet, you couldn’t help let out a small smile.
“Y/n!” James shouted across the hall.
Your face flushed red out of embarrassment. You tried looking away , but it was too late. James jogged over to you.
“Hey pretty.” He smirked.
“Hi.” You said plainly.
“So, today is the quidditch match. You coming to see me play?” He grinned.
“Uh… I don’t know. I’m not really a sports kinda person.” You told.
“Oh come on, just come to see the legendary James Potter in action, love.” He pleaded.
Merlin, how could someone be so obnoxious yet so charming.
“Tone it down a notch, ‘prongs’. “ You teased, making air quotes.
“I’ll see if I can come, i’ve got a lot of reading to catch up on.” You continued, walking away before he could reply.
The encounter left your stomach rumbling. Thanks to that idiot James, you couldn’t even think about keeping down any food right now.
You hated how James left you feeling. You didn’t like anticipating your face in a red flush, you didn’t like seeing double vision in a rose blush, and most of all, you didn’t like feeling vulnerable by the mere presence of someone, let alone a boy. A boy that half the school is in love with.
Going to the quidditch match was a bad idea, letting James in was a bad idea, it went against everything you told yourself from your very start of Hogwarts. Yet, you found yourself doing exactly that.
You decided you could spare a few minutes to watch the quidditch match. You gaslit yourself into believing you were going for the sake of ‘enjoying and learning the sport’, and not for James. You made your way into the Y/H stands, trying your best not to be noticed by the messy haired Gryffindor chaser. Although, you hardly doubted he would notice you from 50 feet above.
The match dragged on for 3 whole hours, and you were appalled by the fact that you stayed the whole duration. You watched a handful of matches your whole life, but this one, this one was different. It had something to do with the fact that, James was so effortlessly good at what he did.
Gryffindor won even though Slytherin’s seeker caught the snitch. They were leading by a 100 points, and James had thrown the quaffle into the hoop more than 20 times. Even you knew that the victory was mostly his doing. The Gryffindor team jumped off their brooms, and started jumping with excitement, adrenaline pumping through their veins. You wanted to congratulate James, it was the decent thing to do, right?
As you were walking up to the ground, a red headed girl beat you to him. She hugged him rather intimately, and placed a kiss on his cheek. Your stomach churned. Maybe it was the nausea from not eating or maybe it was seeing that girl being so close to James, you didn’t care. What were you doing? Coming to a quidditch match for the captain of the Gryffindor team? You didn’t expect him to notice you, then why were you so offended when he didn’t? Without thinking, you ran out the filed, wanting nothing more than to forget about the stupid match, the stupid kiss and stupid James fucking potter.
The following night in the library ,you were drowning in a pile of books, struggling to finish all your assignments.
“We need to stop running into each other like this.” A voice whispered into your ear from behind.
“Although, you seem to be more interested in running away from me than into me.” James continued. Well you’d he damned. He did in-fact notice you at the match.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you mumbled, refusing to turn around and look at him.
“C’mon, love. Don’t be coy. Why did you run away like that? Still flustered after last night are we?” He pressed.
“Piss off, Potter.” You spat, trying to walk away.
“Wait! Don’t be like that. Do you want to talk about what happened last night, is that it?” He asked, gripping your wrist, stopping you from walking away.
“No. Clearly you’d rather talk to that red headed girl you were being so ‘friendly’ with earlier. I get it, the kiss was no big deal. It’s cool” You lied.
“No big deal? Ouch.” He said, removing a fake arrow from his heart.
“That red head earlier was Lily Evans. She’s my good mate. Trust me, you do NOT need to worry about Lily, plus I’m certain she’s got a thing for Snivellus.” James explained.
“Snivellus?” You questioned. What is up with him and these stupid nicknames?
“Long story. Anyway, why don’t you join me and the lads in the Gryffindor common room tonight. We’re celebrating the win.” Was James asking you to meet his friends tonight? No way. There was only one person you found more insufferable than James, Sirius freaking Black. He was obviously going to be there.
“Um- I- I have uh… errands-“ you tried to come up with an excuse but James cut you off.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He said, as he winked and disappeared into the dark.
A few hours after dinner, you reluctantly made your way into the Gryffindor common room. Everyone seemed to be asleep. The room was dimly lit, with cosy sofas arranged next to a roaring fire. You spotted James , Sirius, Remus , Peter, Lily and Marlene sprawled in front of the fire place.
You cleared your throat, making your presence aware.
“Y/n! You came!” James greeted, pulling you into a side hug.
After introducing you to the group, James insisted you sat right next to him on the sofa. At some point during the night, his hands found their way to the small of your back, tracing gentle circles on it. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to enjoy yourself. But that didn’t last long.
Sirius insisted on playing a game of Truth or Dare, where he mostly targeted you. You managed to dodge most of the questions, which really pissed Sirius off.
“Ok. Fine. If you’re not going to answer any of the questions, Y/n, why is it that you have no friends? Why do you walk around alone and eat alone all the time like some depressed loser.” Sirius said bluntly.
Heat spread from your ears to your neck. Your face burned with embarrassment. That did it.
“Fuck off , Black.” You flipped him off , as you stormed out of the common room.
“What the hell, mate?” You heard James say.
You were walking so fast it could be considered running.
“Y/n, wait!” James called after you.
You tried to ignore him, but he caught up with you in the corridor because the stupid stair cases decided to move, again.
“Y/n…I’m so sorry. Ignore Sirius. He can be a real dick.” James said.
“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your head up to meet his eyes. They were filled with regret. He probably regretted calling you tonight. What was he thinking? Did he expect his friends to like you? In what world would that be true? You saw how they picked on people like you. How they bullied those different from them. Why did you expect anything else?
“What are you thinking?” James asked, brushing his thumb against your cheek. He was standing extremely close to you again. Practically hovering. Before you could answer, he pulls you in, locking his lips with yours. A sudden warmth spreads through your body. You close your eyes, the subtle pressure of his hands on your waist sending jolts of electricity down your spine. This was wrong. Stop. Pull away. You thought to yourself, but your body wouldn’t comply. You kissed him back with more aggression than you anticipated, running your fingers through his hair. After what felt like an eternity of pure heavenly bliss, James pulled away.
“Should we head back?” He asked.
Then you came back to your senses. Reality was a harsh slap in the face. Deal with it now, so you’re not left wretched later.
“I can’t ,James. I can’t do this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought I could handle your friends, the crowds and the constant attention your around. But, truth be told, I really can’t. It’s all too much for me. You’re too much for me…you’ll probably be fine, maybe even better off without me. This was a big mistake.” You said, gesturing between the two of you.
For the first time in history, James Potter was left speechless. His face was engulfed with hurt. You didn’t want to hurt him, but it was better him than you.
(All rights reserved, ©)
Tag list 💞:
@colouredbyd , @d1lf-loverrr , @dollysh
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Text
— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ pt.2
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
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summary: after lord eros' silly little trick, you're now forced to deal with the consequences— more specifically, in the form of a lovestruck luke castellan.
warnings: tons of corny pick-up lines
genre: still very much a romcom
part 1
note: thank you, thank you! all your support for pt.1 means the world to me! really, i couldn't be more grateful 𖹭 i hope you think this brings justice to the first half 𖹭
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” You suppressed the urge to shriek, settling for gritted emphasis instead. You crossed your arms across your chest, your foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floorboards of the Big House.
“Exactly what it means.” Chiron responded, looking at Luke with more amusement rather than concern.
“But he's under a spell,” You reasoned in disbelief. You might have spilled over your words while you explained the rundown to Chiron, but they were coherent enough to at least get that point across.
“It’ll wear off eventually, kid.” Mr. D downed an entire can of diet soda in one go before procuring another one in his outstretched hand. He snickered at the intent puppy eyes Luke was giving you. “That type of love magic won’t last long. Best to let it run its course than tamper with it.”
“But–” You wanted to argue before Mr. D stopped you. He pushed his feet up on his desk.
“Look, at least this proves that your boyfriend actually loves you.” He gave you a pointed look. What does that even mean? “Now, leave.”
You huffed indignantly, but decided against speaking further. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled Luke up by his arm, guiding him towards the narrow hallway that led to the foyer.
“When did I become your boyfriend?” Luke huddled closer to you, whispering as you made your way to the front door.
“You didn’t.” You told him plainly. You shook your head. “You aren’t.”
“Yet.” He responded, his tone a bit mischievous but his gaze sure and determined.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
You leaned your elbows against the table of the crowded Arts and Crafts Center, your chin resting against the pad of your thumbs. You studied Luke with a contemplating gaze.
“I hit you with one of Eros’ arrows.” You told him. This was hardly the proper place to have this conversation, but the rest of the Aphrodite cabin practically hauled you to the building to begin Valentinkering? Valenmaking? (whatever in Tartarus they decided to call it this year).
“Well, I guess you could say I’ve been lovestruck by you.” He said, giving you a stupid little wink as he mirrored your posture.
“Gods, Luke. That was corny as hell.” You flushed almost as crimson as the container of beads in front of you. “Also, I’m serious.”
“And who said I wasn’t?” He challenged. He smirked against his fist, wiggling his eyebrows.
You snorted. “The fact that you’re under some valentine voodoo makes all your intentions questionable.”
“You wound me.” He feigned offense, pouting as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt above his chest. “To be fair, my train of thought has always been questionable when it comes to you.”
“Again: unimpressed.” You buried your face into your hands, the second hand embarrassment of his poor attempt at flirting was overwhelmingly potent. Besides, it was difficult not to react when he looked at you so intently, like he was trying to memorize every minute detail of you.
“On a more serious note, I do remember the whole arrow thing.” He told you, his lips pursed. “I don’t blame you; it was a complete accident. It just feels… odd.”
Your ears perked up, worried. “You feel odd?”
“No,” He shook his head. His expression was perplexed, maybe a bit incredulous too. “That’s the thing. I feel completely normal.”
“That is weird.” You agree. You wrap the string in between your fingers around his wrist, measuring it to his size. "Maybe it was just a prank?"
“No. If anything, it’s more like I can’t hold my tongue.” He shrugs. “I can’t help but say what I think.”
“Would that explain the flirting?” You tease. All cheeky, but with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the humor.
He leaned in, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You stare at him, tilting your head. He returns your gaze just as intensely, brown eyes fixed onto yours. He raises an eyebrow as if to question your silence. There was something magnetic between the two of you, pulsing and pulling you closer— maybe not physically, but definitely in other ways unbeknownst to you.
“Woah!” Percy exclaimed with an accusatory edge to his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and his palms raised as if to distance himself from you. “Respect for the children, maybe? Consider shielding my young impressionable eyes from this trauma?”
“Percy!” You squeaked rather uncharacteristically. Annabeth trailed behind closely, pushing a leg over the bench to sit beside you. You smiled at her, tugging her closer by placing your arm around her shoulders.
“Annabeth,” Luke called. “Trade places with me.”
Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “No.”
“Come on.” He persisted. He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “You know, the Stoll brothers have an extensive archive, and I think I may have heard word of them having that Rem Kolhaas book you've been raving about."
Annabeth stopped to consider the offer before ultimately conceding. She stood up from her seat. “That’s a big bribe for a small favor.”
“Know what prices to pay to win your battles.” Luke muttered as he sidled up next to you, grinning triumphantly. His fingers played with the hem of your weathered camp shirt. “Sacrifices aren’t much in the face of victory.”
“Did you just use a bad battle strategy as a flirting tactic?” Annabeth scrunched her nose in distaste. “Gross.”
"Done." You finish tying up the ends, letting the red bracelet dangle in Luke's line of vision.
"It looks so pretty, baby." He compliments you, holding out his wrist. You proudly put it on for him. "Not as pretty as you though."
You scoff. Both Annabeth and Percy imitate gagging noises.
─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───
The only time you ever truly left each other’s side were the few moments of reprieve before dinner where you’d returned to your cabins. The older campers insisted on making the meal a whole affair, complete with a romantic candlelit set-up and a string quartet to serenade everyone. Chiron decided to indulge the request and sent everyone back to freshen up.
“Have fun with your boyfriend?”
“Christ!” You jumped in your spot, turning around to see Eros laying on one of the bunks. His arms were tucked underneath his head, his smile suggestive and knowing.
“Lord Eros,” You bowed.
“That is not your shade.” He tutted, pointing to the tinted gloss in your hand. “Too summery for your complexion this time of year. Go for the pink one. He’ll go berserk.”
“Thanks.” You muttered, facing your vanity once more. You dabbed the product against your lips. You sighed as you inspected your make-up. Once more, he was right.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He shifted to his side, looking at you expectantly.
“Yeah, I guess.” You grumbled. You looked down, pretending to look for something in your drawer so he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. Luke refused to leave your side the entire day— his fingers hooked around the belt hoops of your skirt in one way or another. He made a whole spectacle of it too: his big brown eyes tender, his wistful sighs, his shy grins, his playful winks.
“Good.” He clapped his hands. “Gods, the boy has had a crush on you for forever, you know. It was torture watching him pine over you. I can only take so much longing.”
You froze, staring at him through the mirror. He stared back at you.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” He sounded shocked; he was shocked. “You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, how could you not know?! That's like our thing!”
“Well, he hasn’t been obvious, has he?” You rebutted, flicking your wrist.
“Sis, I don’t know what reality you’re living in,” He sat up on the bed, “But that boy wouldn’t know subtle even if it hit him in the face.”
“But surely it’s just because of the arrows.” You rationalized.
“Nuh uh.” He wiggles a finger in the air to deny the accusation. “The arrows you used just accentuate pre-existing feelings. Not make new ones.”
A knock interrupts your conversation. You hurry to fix your hair, brushing it out of the way. Your hands begin to shake with giddy excitement. You feel your heart thrum strongly against your chest, almost wanting to burst out from the confines of your body and find its other half in Luke. Your smile eventually becomes hard to contain.
Eros beams at you, his pupils dilating into hearts again like it did this morning. He opens the door for you and pushes you out. “Have fun with lover boy. Mother sends her regards.”
Luke spins around at the sound of the squeaky hinges. He can't help but pull a hand out of his pocket, his palm lightly grazing his chest. He whistles. “Call me favored by the gods because I think I’ve just entered Elysium.”
“You’ve been with me the whole day.” You responded pointedly, breathless and in love.
“And yet you still manage to take my breath away.” He gasps when you rush into him, wrapping your arms around his nape.
“This is new.” He looks down at you, your noses touching. His hands fall naturally to your hips, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your dress. “But definitely welcome.”
You gaze into his eyes before pressing your lips against his. They felt pleasant and pliant against your own. You tugged Luke closer, your fingers twirling through his curls. His hands squeezed your skin. The kiss burned sweetly, almost as if it’s been waiting in anticipation to happen.
When you both separate for air, Luke gently grabs your hands from behind him. He wraps his fists around yours, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”
“So I’ve been told.” You hum. “I figured I might take the first step.”
“Don’t worry.” He presses another kiss against your lips, short and sweet. “I promise to match your pace the rest of the way.”
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺
taglist: @ace-spades-1 @patitotodd @fandomthings-blog @bugcuti3 @liv1104 @mindflay3r
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twistyfish · 7 months ago
Note
Your writing is so good whaaatt!! Could you do another comfort fic with the lad boys? Maybe like they come home and the reader is crying for whatever reason and so onnn. I love comfort fics 🤧🤧
thank you very much! here you are. i’m in a bit of a writing slump honestly 🥲, but i tried. also, some of you are requesting, which i’m very grateful for! if I don’t respond immediately it’s because i’m working on something else at the moment.
prompt~ they come home to you crying.
𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴
Zayne
You were so exhausted. You woke up with a horrible headache and did badly in training today because of that. Captain Jenna snapped at you over your simple errors, which made you feel worse.
You wordlessly picked a mug out of the cupboard and filled it with water. You brought it to your lips and drank, each gulp sounding against the metronomic headache that wouldn’t let you rest. A trickle of blood dripped down your philtrum, making a small splash in your cup. Sniffing, you wiped your nose.
Each drop of blood that ran from your nose overwhelmed you more and more until you were scrubbing your nose with your sweater sleeve, the wool fibers catching the liquid. You pulled your arm away and it looked like a surgeon’s rags.
Speaking of surgeons, your boyfriend chose that unaesthetic moment of you messily wiping your nose to walk into the kitchen. You put your arm by your side and tried to act normal as he fixed himself a cup of juice.
You kept your back turned to him as he asked, “How was training today?”
“Training was pretty standard. Tara told me she’s thinking of getting a tattoo.”
“Really? Did she tell you what kind of tattoo?”
“A pair of cherries.” You were just making stuff up, trying to find an exit from the conversation so you could clean up. “I’m going to go change into pajamas.” You quickly walked up the stairs before he could say anything.
Lip quivering, you picked out a set of pajamas and put it on the bed. You stripped out of your sweater, and the red patch on the sleeve caught your eye. Shit. Why did you wipe your nose on it? It would definitely stain. You really liked this sweater, too.
You felt your eyes burn, a fun contrast to the other sensations of your throbbing head and leaky nose. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you held back the sobs for a few beats before giving up and muffling your face in the already stained sweater.
You must have been like that for a while, because Zayne meandered upstairs without you hearing and peeked inside the bedroom door. “You’ve been up here for a while. What are you-,” he stopped, eyes widening. “Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”
He quickly walked over and put a hand on your back, peering down at you. “Is that blood?”
You wiped your face on the sweater before letting it plop to the floor. “Yeah,” you said tearily.
“Why are you bleeding? And why are you crying?” Came his calm response.
“I had a bloody nose, and… I don’t know.” You dissolved into sobs again. He looked at you sadly, his hazel eyes big and worried. He pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly for a few minutes until you calmed down. He rubbed your bare back, feeling the goosebumps and pulling your pajama shirt over your head.
“You don’t have to run away. From me, or your feelings,” he whispered.
𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖
Sylus
The air was too heavy. There was too much to dwell on, too many morbid and sickening atrocities that made you feel sour. You couldn’t comprehend how the world was still spinning with so many terrible people weighing it down. You certainly felt like you had been kicked off your axis.
It was more than anyone could take. One too many cases of something horrible on the news, and your stomach was churning. The reporter had described the event so plainly, with a grim resignation. The world was so advanced, and yet….
You didn’t feel the remote slip from your hand. You didn’t hear it clatter on the floor. You didn’t feel the tears swim down your face. You only registered that you were crying when your throat produced a strangled sound, and you finally clapped your hands to your eyes and just bawled.
You cried until you were dehydrated and numb and the garage door opened with a muted whirring. Your large boyfriend entered a few moments later, and you heard a quiet gasp as he took in the sight of you sobbing on the couch.
Sylus seemed less like a fiend and more like a fairy with the way he flitted around you, uncharacteristically lacking composure while trying to figure out what was wrong. By that point, the news had changed to some other story, and he looked confusedly at the TV.
“Darling, are you crying about inflation?”
That didn’t even get a smile from you, so he just picked you up from under the armpits and rocked you slowly, like a baby. You continued to cry softly as he shushed you and whispered comforting words in your ear.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked gently.
“There are so many bad people in the world,” you managed to say through weak hiccups.
“I know. You’re dating one of them.”
“You’re different,” you mumbled. “
“Oh? How am I different?”
“You’re an evil bastard, but I love you.”
He laughed throatily at that, and you felt a little better.
𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝
Rafayel
You were in a nice hotel, lying amidst silky duvets and plush, fat pillows. The moonlight snuck through the gaps between the ivory curtains and created beautiful spectral patterns on the walls.
Your darling fiancé was sleeping with his arm wrapped around you, so why were your shoulders shaking? Why were soft, choked sobs escaping your lips? Why the hell were you crying on vacation?
You didn’t know. All you did know was that Rafayel was stirring, surely awoken by your movement.
“Are you crying?” He murmured sleepily, propping himself up.
You willed yourself to stop shaking, stop being weak and just shut up. But it wasn’t working. The misery and self pity was eating you alive.
“Oh, sweetie,” he said, gently turning you around and cupping your head, kissing your wet cheek. “Don’t cry. You’ll get dehydrated.”
More tears ran down your face, and he continued to brush them away with soft fingers. “What’s wrong, my gorgeous girl?”
“I don’t know,” you choked out. “I just feel bad.”
“Oh, my love….” Rafayel kissed you again with sweetness and compassion. He combed through your hair with his fingers and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. He didn’t know how to soothe you, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He distracted you.
He brought his lips to yours and gently showed you his love for you. Whatever you were feeling, he would overpower it with all his heart.
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
Xavier
The clash of metal exploded in the air as your swords collided yet again, and you dodged another attack. Your eyes were burning. There was absolutely no way you were about to cry while sparring with Xavier.
But the next time your swords collided and you met Xavier’s soft, focused gaze, you failed to hold it back. You stared intently into his eyes as both of you struggled, and while straining against his sword, tears began falling from your eyes. His own eyes widened, and he stepped back, pulling his mask down.
“Are you injured?” He asked worriedly. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, lip trembling. You let out a shaky sob, and that was enough to concern him further.
“__….” He was at a loss for words. He had never seen you cry, and now….
“What happened?” He bent down, trying to assess your expression. You were trying not to let the tears win, but they definitely were. You finally gave up trying to hold it in and let your sword drop to the floor with a soft clink, now crying openly.
Xavier reached out hesitantly and pulled you into his embrace. Both of you were hot and stinky from sparring, but that didn’t matter. Not while you were crying.
You let out muffled sobs into his neck, letting him hold you as the two of you sank to the floor. Your tears mingled with the sweat on his shoulder, and he rubbed your back soothingly as you cried. He held you like that for a while.
“I’m sorry,” you said once the sobs had died down.
“It’s okay. I just want to know where this came from,” he replied in that sweet, soft voice.
“I’m tired,” came your plain response. He didn’t question you further, and gently patted your head.
He helped you pick up your things and walked you to the locker room, and you stopped to take a drink at the water fountain. His gaze was fixed on you as you drank, eyes tracing the curvature of your lips. He was so engrossed in watching you drink that you couldn’t help but feel shy.
You finished drinking and said bye to Xavier, still thinking about the interaction. He was always soft spoken, but you didn’t know he could be this gentle. Maybe you should talk to him more outside of sparring.
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darkwicks · 3 months ago
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Overnight
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Sylus keeps you company in the hospital.
PAIRING.⠀Qin Che | Sylus x Reader
CONTENT.⠀Gender-neutral reader; established relationship, fluff, hospitals // ~0,5k words
A/N.⠀2/3 drabbles dedicated to @henndowski because I got impatient <3 reblogs and comments are always appreciated!!
Available on AO3
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Hospitals are perhaps one of your least favourite places in the world.
It must feel even worse for you now that you’re being made to stay here for a couple of nights to recover from the surgery. They’re boring and dull, you say. Constantly getting checked in on by nurses and doctors alike makes you feel like a test subject. Sylus understands it very well. With the Aether Core in your heart among other things, hospitals are a far more familiar sight than you’d like.
It had taken a lot of convincing for you to agree to letting him cover all your medical expenses. Stubborn and considerate as ever, you frantically told him that no, you’ll manage, and that he shouldn’t feel like you’re something he has to take responsibility for. With a simple few words (“You’re not a burden. I’m doing this because I want to.”) you finally caved in, though under the condition that you’d pay him back. He won’t take it—there’s no limit to what he’d do for you—but if it reassures you just a little, he’ll let you do it.
A quiet groan leaves your lips as your eyes slowly flutter open, straining upon being met with the fluorescent light overhead. He puts down the last of the apple slices he’d been cutting and brings them over when he moves to the stool by your bedside.
You groggily smile at him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he replies, placing the plate on the table. “I cut up some fruit for you.”
“Thank you,” you say, slightly more awake. “Did you stay the night? What time is it?”
“Eleven thirty.” He reaches over to hold your hand, thumb rubbing gentle, calming circles on your skin. “How did you sleep?”
“I miss sleeping in a real bed,” you grumble, “I’m sick of this room.”
He huffs, amused. “I know, sweetie. Just another night then we can go home.”
Your bottom lip juts into a pout. The IV drip and the countless cables of the EKG monitor are undoubtedly bothering you, but you stay silent. Instead, as your head rolls to the side, you speak up again, gently, “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Sylus squeezes your hand warmly. He wants to tell you there’s no need to thank him, that he would’ve done this even without you asking, but he decides against it. “Of course.”
Sensing you about to reach for the plate, he swiftly takes it and places it on your lap, not wanting you to strain yourself. You part your lips to scold him but can’t help the smile that crawls onto your face nor the giggle that leaves you.
“I can feed myself, Sylus.”
“You need rest,” he dismisses stubbornly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let me do it.”
You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head in mirth. “Okay, fine. You’re really spoiling me today.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He brings the apple slice to your mouth and you bite down on it, chewing happily. “Spoiling you rotten.”
You swallow with a quiet gulp, looking at him again. “Do you think I can ask them to discharge me early? I’m not in pain anymore. Look! I’m fine.”
“Doctor’s orders,” he says plainly. “One more night. I’ll treat you to something nice when you leave. How does that sound?”
You pretend to think carefully, tapping your finger against your chin. “Can we go to that bagel place that just opened? I wanna try them out.”
“Done.”
The smile you give him only makes him fall harder in love with you.
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