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svt-luna · 3 days ago

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ʚིᵋ ⋆ INSTAGRAM UPDATE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── 241224: This Christmas, With Love

happy Christmas Eve, my loves!! happy holidays to you and your families! i hope you all have a great day/night with your loved ones. keep warm, eat a lot of delicious food, and i hope you all have gotten all you have wished for this holidays!! this is a long ig update for you lovelies and this is the first of many which are coming soon!! happy holidays once again and all the love, my lovelies 🎄🎉🤍

p.s. one-shot based on the events behind these instagram post, aka JeongNa’s Christmas Eve will be posted soon 👀💞

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ luna's instagram

Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n, ho5hi_kwon, pledis_boos, and 10,763,777 others

lunabae not all gifts come wrapped, some are sung. here’s my gift wrapped in melodies! a little something for the holidays. five songs for someone who makes my world brighter. maybe they’ll make yours a little warmer too! for the one who inspired it and for all of you 🎄🤍

Santa’s biggest secret this year? is that i made this about you, thinking of you, inspired by you, just for you @/jeonghaniyoo_n because Santa doesn’t know you like i do, my angel boy 🪽🤍

this Christmas, with love… out now!!

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jeongnadaily nobody fucking speak to me. i am being so serious rn.

nana-lulu-ya MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS INDEED!! YOON JEONGHAN IS ONE LUCKY SON OF A BITCH 😫

↳ napipopeta17 HOW TF DOES ONE BECOME YOON JEONGHAN?!?

jiyeoniedaily FIVE NEW SONGS?! FIVE NEW FREE SONGS?!? FREE!!!?! BAE JIYEON?! NO, CALL HER SANTA CAUSE SHE JUST ENDED HIM!!

svt_angelcarat LUNA HOW DARE YOU BE THIS THOUGHTFUL I’M LITERALLY CRYING RN. I MEAN, IK ITS FOR JEONGHAN BUT STILL😭😭

↳ jxjforever not us losing our minds as if this was for us… this is for Jeonghan… JUST IMAGINE HOW HE IS FEELING?!??

↳ hanniehaeyo twirling his hair, kicking his feet, and giggling as he writes on his diary.

jeonghan_simp14 ‘Santa doesn’t know you like I do, my angel boy’— IM SCREAMINGGGG THIS WOMAN KNOWS HOW TO WRITE A LOVE LETTER AND TURN IT INTO AN ALBUM???

whitelight_luna THE WAY SHE CALLED HIM ANGEL BOY AND SAID SHE KNOWS HIM BETTER THAN SANTA… she really said “watch this” and gave him the most meaningful Christmas gift ever

↳ ashonash SHE WON. BAE JIYEON WON. PERIOD. THE BEST GIFT. HANDS DOWN. NO ONE IS TOPPING THIS I’M AFRAID.

ohmysvt Yoon Jeonghan. Listen to me. You’re so lucky. YOU ARE SO LUCKY. SHE WROTE YOU SONGS???! A WHOLE ASS ALBUM INSPIRED BY YOU??? JEONGNA WON CHRISTMAS.

caratville_luv GUYS PLS THE LYRICS TO ‘Santa Doesn’t Know You Like I Do’ 💀 ‘He won’t bring you somebody that loves you more than me’— HELLOOO SHE— IS CORRECT.

↳ missbitch ‘so why can't I be the one to give you everything you want?’ GOODBYE I—

moonchild.97 She really out here saying, ‘Santa could NEVER. I KNOW MY MAN BETTER.’ THE WAY SHE LIVES AND BREATHES FOR JEONGHAN 😭😭😭.

seoksoonyoungdazed NOT ME GIGGLING LIKE A FOOL LISTENING TO ‘Winter Things’ 😭 it’s so soft and sweet like… who writes this???! LUNA DOES. BECAUSE SHE LOVES HER MAN THE MOST.

meaniescorner How do I find someone who loves me like Luna loves Jeonghan bc I’m officially unwell over this album.

↳ user17righthere Asked google the same exact question just now 😳

hannie_xoxo She just told the entire world that Jeonghan is her angel boy, gave us five love songs, and changed Christmas forever. I can’t do this rn 😭

luvmoonx LUNA STOP MAKING ME WANT TO BE YOU PLS.

ohhlujeong MISS THING SAID SANTA HAS NOTHING ON HER AND SHE IS RIGHT CAUSE THIS IS A MASTERPIECE 🙌

svt4lifeu SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO?!? TRUE LOVE??! WINTER THINGS!!? WHITE XMAS!!? A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS???? Bae Jiyeon really is that bitch and I’m eating it up. This is love, ppl. THIS IS LOVE. ROMEO AND JULIET COULD NEVER.

hanlu.couple WHO EVEN NEEDS SANTA WHEN YOU HAVE LUNA?!?! I HOPE JEONGHAN IS SOBBING RN. IF HE ISN’T I WILL SOB FOR HIM 😭

↳ gyugyushadow HE PROBABLY IS. I MEAN I WOULD 😭

the14together Santa doesn’t know Jeonghan like Luna does BUT I WISH SHE’D LET SANTA KNOW HOW I FEEL BC I WANT LOVE LIKE THIS TOO 🤩🤩

↳ luv4luna97 HAHSHYAEGWGH THIS CRACKED ME UP 😂 (it’s funny cause it’s true and i relate.)

moonstruckhannie FIVE SONGS JUST FOR HIM? YOU CANNOT TELL ME SHE DOESN’T LOVE THIS MAN MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD.

svt_ot14fam How do we compete with Luna? Like Jeonghan stans… pack it up. THIS IS OUR CHRISTMAS ELIMINATION.

moonjestic97 The ‘Santa doesn’t know Jeonghan like I do’ is ICONIC, but ‘thinking of you, inspired by you, just for you’— my Jeongna heart is sobbing AND SCREAMING.

angelsong97 She’s in love. He’s in love. We’re all in love with their love. This is the most Christmas thing that’s ever Christmassed. MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎉❤️

moonchildsvt This album proves what we’ve been saying all along: LUNA LOVES JEONGHAN THE MOST. PERIOD.

frostedmoons97 Jiyeonie really said “Santa could never” and literally changed the trajectory of Jeonghan’s Christmas and my life. WHAT A WOMAN.

diamondmoonnight This is my official application to be reincarnated as Jeonghan next lifetime bc I NEED LUNA TO LOVE ME THIS MUCH.

↳ iceprincess_luna I hate to burst your bubble but with THIS kind of love… it’s obvious that they’ll find each other again on every lifetime and universe.

↳ hannielover-96 don’t make me cry this is adorable and so true 🥹🤍

warmmoon_hannie Luna gave us five songs but ruined my life because I will never experience this kind of love. Thanks, queen!

caratunit14 This album is the definition of moonstruck and I’M OBSESSED. Jeonghan, she really said, “Only I know you the best.”

noona-luna97 GUYS!!! JEONGHAN’S POST!!! WTF?!? MOM AND DAD 🥹💖💖💖

Liked by lunabae, sound_of_coups, pledis_boos, and 9,652,762 others

jeonghaniyoo_n this Christmas, with my love, my moon 🌙🤍 @/lunabae

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jeongnadaily i just came from Jiyeonie’s post. Please, guys… I’m unwell. Give me a break to catch my breath, mom, dad 🫠

moonsandcarats NOT HIM SPINNING HER ALBUM TITLE INTO ‘this Christmas, with my love, my moon’— STOPPPPP I’M ACTUALLY SCREAMING 😭😭😭

lulunova17 Han. I just managed to stop screaming from Jiyeonie’s post for you… don’t do this to me rn.

jeonghaluvr95 JEONGHAN SAID YOU WROTE ME AN ALBUM, I’LL GIVE YOU YOUR CHILDHOOD DREAM PET. WHAT IS THIS LEVEL OF LOVE????

bunnymoon_97 A BUNNY. HE GOT HER A BUNNY. THE WAY SHE’S BEEN DREAMING OF HAVING ONE SINCE SHE WAS A KID I CANNOT BREATHE.

↳ jxjforever I AM HYPERVENTILATING WITH YOU GIRL!!!

hannieluna_otp The creative genius of taking her album title and turning it into the caption for his post… JEONGHAN REALLY IS IN LOVE LOVE AND SO IS JIYEON 🫵💞💞💞

caratluvangel Luna: gifts Jeonghan a whole ass Christmas album she wrote for him and writes the most romantic caption ever. Jeonghan: gifts Luna her childhood dream pet and writes the most romantic caption ever Me: rocking back and forth, ugly crying in the corner, single as fuck 😭

svtchaosclub A BUNNY!!?! A BUNNY 😭 IYKYK

moonlitangel97 Y’all this isn’t JUST a bunny; it’s YEARS of her wanting one and Jeonghan making it happen. I’M DONE. THEY’RE TOO MUCH.

↳ user7782652 Same 🥹 they are not good for my well being. My heart can’t take it anymore.

lunaticshannie LUNA WROTE JEONGHAN SONGS ABOUT KNOWING HIM BETTER THAN SANTA, AND HE SAID “OK HERE’S THE DREAM YOU NEVER GOT AS A KID. CHECKMATE.”— THEY’RE INSANE.

forevercarat14 His caption. THE CAPTION. ‘This Christmas, with my love, my moon.’ JEONGHAN YOU ARE THE MOST ROMANTIC MAN ALIVE.

moonstruckinlove The bunny isn’t just a pet; it’s a promise. A ‘I see you, I know you, I love you’ moment. I’M MELTING.

the14angels HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE LOVED BY JEONGHAN???? LUNA, SHARE YOUR SECRETS PLS. I’M BEGGING.

↳ sooniesoonsoon THE FACT THAT THIS COULD BE ASKED THE OTHER WAY AROUND IS INSANE 🥹

lunahope_97 She waited her whole life for a bunny but never got one bc her mom is allergic and her schedule has gotten busier as she got older AND JEONGHAN MADE IT HAPPEN. 🥹

↳ lunanovalover I just know she cried. I just KNOW it. I bet all that I have that Jiyeonie BALLED her eyes out.

jeonghanmoon93 HANNIE KNEW SHE WANTED THIS FOR SO LONG. THEY’RE IN LOVE AND HATERS JUST HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT.

whitechristmaslove The caption??! HER ALBUM TITLE BUT ABOUT HER BEING HIS MOON???? SIR PLEASE YOU’RE KILLING US.

↳ channieenie99 his moon and her angel boy 🥹🤍

angelhannie-95 They’re not just soulmates; they’re DESTINED. He knows her heart, her dreams, EVERYTHING. AND VICE VERSA. I’M OBSESSED 💖

bunnysvtlover No bc Luna is holding the bunny like it’s her whole world, and JEONGHAN KNEW EXACTLY WHAT WOULD MAKE HER THIS HAPPY 😭

hannieangelmoon It couple behavior 🤭🩷

jeonglunaluv Jeonghan’s love language is just MAKING SURE LUNA’S THE HAPPIEST WOMAN ALIVE, AND I LOVE THAT FOR HER ❤️‍🩹🥹

angelsandmoons Jeonghan really took ‘this Christmas, with love’ and made it ‘with my love, my moon.’ THIS IS LITERARY GENIUS 🤌💋

lunababejeonghan i CANNOT deal with them anymore!! first Luna’s Christmas ep dedicated to Han and now his gift for her being a fucking BUNNY!! Her DREAM BUNNY!! BYE—

moonstruckcarats Jiyeonie’s album is proof that Jiyeon listens, loves, and knows Jeonghan better than anyone else. This bunny is proof that Jeonghan listens, loves, and knows her better than anyone else. WE’RE ALL JEALOUS, RIGHT?!

jeonghanislove Jeonghannie and Jiyeonie are single-handedly rewriting what it means to be a thoughtful partner. A WHOLE ALBUM AND A WHOLE CHILDHOOD DREAM. ARE YOU KIDDING?

bunnymooncarat Every Christmas gift ever has been CANCELLED. THIS is the new gold standard. JEONGHAN DID THAT. LUNA DID THAT. THEY DID THAT. JEONGNA DID THAT.

↳ hanhanhannie-hae THEY WON CHRISTMAS!! JEONGNA WON CHRISTMAS 😫🙌💖

↳ svt-luna MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🎄❤️❤️❤️ THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST CHRISTMAS!!!

lunaversion_ CALL THEM MR. AND MRS. CLAUS

↳ jeongnlover Mr. and Mrs. Yoon soon.. 👀🤍

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: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav @billboard-singer @junhuisworld @caturdayvibe @coralbatlampzonk @sof1eya @lyraea @jihoonsbbygirl @cocopuff2424 @okoknotco @minvxq @soulphoenix1618 @whineywheeiny @rairaine @toplinehyunjin @ateez-atiny380 @cherrylovescheol @jiimtaee @blurr3db3rry @seomisaho @amanda08319 @peanutbutterslothsstuff @cheolsboo @allthings-fandoms @mystic-megumi @sherlockbye @tastyluvr

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covenofagatha · 9 hours ago

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A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 6)

You go to confront The Witch and Lady Death

Word count: 3900

Warnings: smut, fingering, more murder

You try to call Tony on the way over, but his number isn’t there. You scroll through your text messages, his thread isn’t there either. You try recent calls. Nope.

It’s like he’s been entirely erased from your phone.

You’re getting frantic, desperate, and you know that you can’t exactly look up the personal phone number for the director of an FBI branch, so on a complete whim, you check your blocked contacts.

Fucking Rio.

She must’ve gotten into your phone when she came by to get your clothes that night and made sure there was no way you could reach your life outside of Westview. No way you could get help.

Fingers gripped around the blade of the knife, you’re about to leave the room when your phone lights up with a call. Tony. You scoff, decline it, and block him. You don’t have time for that.

Grimacing, you massage the area between your eyes. You’ve made a huge mess of everything.

You unblock him and call him and he picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N, where the hell have you been?” He barks and you wince at his scolding tone.

“Things here have…developed,” you start, weighing how much you should tell him.

He scoffs. “None of my calls or texts have gone through. I thought you were dead!” You try to say something but he barrels over you. “I’m on my way to Westview right now. I’m supposed to land in about an hour. I don’t know what’s going on there, but I’m bringing you back to Miami.”

“No!” You cry out. He can’t. “Please, Director, I’m so close, I’m about to get them right now. I know who they are and where they are, I’m on my way.”

You can hear his sharp intake of breath when he realizes what you’re about to do. “Agent, stand down. That is a direct order. You are not to engage with them.”

A blush spreads through your body as you remember just how much you’ve engaged with them.

“It’ll be fine,” you assure him. “They don’t want me dead.”

The sound of him hitting the tray table on the jet reverberates through your phone and you almost jump. “Dammit, Y/N, this isn’t a game! This is life or death, and you are not to try and get them all by yourself. Turn around from wherever you are and go back to your motel and do not leave until I get there!” You’ve never heard him this mad.

But you can’t. You’ve come too far to let them slip away like this. You have your gun and maybe the element of surprise on your side. You have the power to end this tonight.

Tony’s still ranting about how irresponsible and impulsive and stupid you’re being, so you hang up. The call ironically disconnects in the middle of him saying how you never listen to anything he says.

You’re more convinced than ever that Agatha and Rio did something in the woods that day that fucked you up beyond measure.

And who was that other woman?

Somehow, after all of that, you had ended up in the hospital with hypothermia and pneumonia, and the post-traumatic and retrograde amnesia accounts for the block in your mind. Did you hit your head on something?

Or did someone hit you on the head with something?

Agatha and Rio and the mystery woman had been so shocked and afraid when you came across them doing something bad that they had clobbered you in the hopes that you would forget, or die?

It’s plausible.

If nothing else, you need answers before you kill them tonight. Maybe knowing what they did will give you some semblance of peace and you can sleep without fearing that you’re going to murder innocent people.

It can hopefully get rid of your headaches, at the very least.

When you get to the address left on the note, Agatha’s car is already parked out front. You breathe a sigh of relief and the tension in your shoulders you didn’t know you were carrying seeps out. They’re here. They didn’t send you on a wild goose chase.

Your heart is beating so fast you think it might fly right out of your chest and you try to slow down your breathing before entering the viper’s nest.

There’s no telling what you might find in there, or what tricks they have up their sleeves, so you want to be mentally prepared.

When your breaths are finally under control, you get out of the car and immediately slip on ice. You crash down to the pavement with a thud and you struggle to get your bearings and

Snow.

Clearing in the woods.

The woman beckons you forward and you find her with two other women. Out of the three, there’s two brunettes and one with gray hair. The gray-haired one looks older, lines prominent on her angry face. She’s standing against a tree.

The two brunettes smile.

When you get closer, you can see that the gray-haired lady is standing in the middle of a big mound of sticks and branches.

Why doesn’t she just move?

The cold ground bleeds through your pants and brings you back to reality. The big mound of sticks and branches coupled with the fire you started seeing…was she on a pyre?

One thing at a time, you remind yourself, pushing yourself up with the help of the car next to you.

You silently slink up to the front door. It’s slightly open. You pause and press your ear to the wood, listening for anything that might indicate a struggle happening.

Nothing.

You push it all the way open and carefully step inside, wincing when the floorboard creaks under your foot. It’s so silent in the front corridor of the house that you think you can hear your blood rushing under your skin.

There’s flickering light coming from the living room and you make your way in that direction when you hear something. You strain your ears and stop against the wall to try and discern what it is – is that a smacking noise?

Are they kissing?

You dare to peek around the corner and yes, not really to your surprise, Agatha and Rio are making out amidst a crime scene.

A dagger sits on the kitchen table next to a plate of the same cookies from their house, two purple azaleas, and two containers.

Two people, a man and a woman, are laying on the ground gasping for air. Their skin is getting tighter, shriveling, lines etching into their face as their cheeks hollow out.

Their chests are still intact though. Maybe they haven’t gotten to that step yet? Clearly Agatha and Rio have been sidetracked.

You should go help them. You should go in there and save their lives, you should stop The Witch and Lady Death. Why do you feel so hot? You must have a fever, there’s no reason your body should be this warm.

But then you look in their direction and you’re enraptured, all other thoughts leaving your head.

The skeleton mask is thrown on the floor and the glow of the fireplace lights up Agatha and Rio trying to devour each other’s mouths.

A flush of heat stutters through your body as Rio reaches her arms around Agatha’s neck and tries to pull her even closer. Agatha’s hands are clasped on her wife’s cheeks and you can see her tongue sliding into Rio’s mouth. The electricity under your skin is back, roaring to life, while your eyes move from the people on the floor, taking their last breaths, to Agatha and Rio, still kissing like their lives depend on it, to the

Snow.

The clearing.

The sound of a match striking against the matchbox.

You watch it fall, almost as if in slow motion.

A brilliant blaze of fire erupts.

Agatha’s foot squeaks on the floor as she walks Rio backwards, mouth never leaving hers. Your fingers tighten around the gun so hard you think you might snap them. You should shoot them. You should shoot them both right here, right now.

But you can’t move.

You’re stuck, rooted to the same spot around the corner, watching as Agatha’s lips trail down Rio’s neck. The younger woman’s head drops back to give her wife more room and you can almost feel the pleasure she does.

“Agatha,” Rio whines and you never thought you would hear her beg. But the mighty therapist, the same woman who poisoned you after eating you out on your couch, is reduced to holding her wife’s hair so she doesn’t move away.

Your breath comes out in sync with Rio’s, like you’re imagining that you’re her instead of you, that you have Agatha pressed up against you instead of being pressed against a wall.

Rio’s fingers dig into Agatha’s thick locks and she switches positions, whirling Agatha around, and she takes control of the kiss. Your eyes are wide, rapt with attention, not daring to look away as Rio moves down to Agatha’s chest and rips her flannel open, revealing her pale chest and lacy black bra.

Your mouth waters and the ache, the same one you felt in the woods and in your motel room, the same one you feel whenever you’re around them, floods through you, settling right between your legs.

Rio nips at Agatha’s breast over the fabric, mouthing at her nipple, and you would kill to be with them. Agatha is watching her fondly, with heat in her eyes, and you think Rio must be looking up at her.

Now would be the perfect time to shoot, so why can’t you move?

Because you like this too much, your body answers for you. You have to tug at the neckline of your sweater as you feel too hot.

Rio kneels down, hands sliding up and down Agatha’s thighs while she sucks on the smooth expanse of her wife’s stomach. Your body is swimming with desire, it’s dizzying almost, and you think you need to cum soon or you might die.

Agatha gasps when Rio sinks her teeth into her skin roughly and then soothes the spot with her tongue. She reaches up, moves Agatha’s hair out of the way, and unclasps her bra and you feel a guttural moan form in your throat. You have to bite your lip hard so it doesn’t escape.

The pale skin of her chest is flushed red and there’s a slight sheen of sweat on her clavicle. Her nipples are a dusky rose color, pebbled and hard, and you want them in your mouth so fucking bad.

Rio surges up to do exactly that, tugging on them with her teeth, and Agatha groans, eyes fluttering shut.

Your brain finally forgets about shooting them, forgets about the fact that they’re serial killers at all, and you do possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life.

You put the gun into the waistband of your pants and you step out from behind the corner.

Agatha’s eyes fasten on to you immediately, but instead of looking surprised, she looks impatient. Like you should’ve been here thirty minutes ago.

“There’s our superstar,” she drawls, hands tangling in Rio’s hair, forcing her still. “What took you so long?”

You try to think of something to say, anything at all, perhaps a remark about how you caught them, when Rio rakes her eyes up and down your body and chuckles. “Look at her, Aggie. She didn’t just get here. She’s been watching.”

Agatha smirks in agreement. “I wonder what got her more hot and bothered, watching us” She nods to the surely dead couple on the ground. “-or watching them die.”

“You two are crazy,” you say, willing your hand to grab your gun, but it doesn’t obey. The heat in your voice betrays you, though.

Rio simpers, advancing toward you with Agatha in tow. You clench your teeth as they start circling you like sharks. “Want to know how we do it?” Rio purrs into your ear and you shudder.

“No,” you spit out, trying desperately hard to keep your eyes from darting down to Agatha’s breasts. She’s made no move to cover up. Her nipples are still hard.

“First,” the detective starts. “We lace the cookies with a delicate mix of hydrofluoric acid, acetone, isopropyl, and a few other things meant to just confuse test results. It slowly decomposes their body from the inside out and they’re dead within minutes.”

Rio moves your hair out of the way to press kisses to your neck and it sends goosebumps down your spine.

“And then,” Rio says right against your skin while Agatha’s hand slithers from your waist to your stomach up to around your throat. You can feel your pulse throb against her fingers. “I take my knife and carve out their hearts. The first cut is always the sweetest. After that, we use bleach to wash it away and hydrogen peroxide to eat away anything we left: blood, fingerprints, DNA.”

“Voila,” Agatha says, snapping her fingers that aren’t around your throat. You hate how wet you can feel yourself getting. “That’s how you get away with murder.”

Rio’s hands are on your hips now, squeezing in time with the hand on your throat. Your airway is constricted, you know you should be scared, but you meet Agatha’s blown-out pupils and are sure yours look the exact same.

The therapist finds your gun and disarms you. “Or in your case,” she says right into your ear, jabbing the muzzle into your back. “You just lure them into the woods while you’re unconscious and slit their femoral arteries.”

All the air leaves your lungs, both from their proximity and your own weapon being used against you.

“Get on your knees,” Agatha orders, letting go of your throat so you can immediately drop down.

Your knees hit the ground hard, but you barely even register the pain, looking up at them eagerly to await what’s next.

Rio slowly walks around until she’s standing next to Agatha and tucks the gun under your chin, forcing it up even more. “Look at how much she’s getting off on this,” she says in a hushed voice. The air between the three of you is thick with tension, the dead bodies only a few yards away completely forgotten.

“You’re capable of so much more than just being a profiler,” Agatha says wistfully, stroking your hair with some sort of affection. “You can be so much more.”

Snow.

The match drops.

Fire.

The gray-haired lady screams.

You’re running through the woods. Are you being chased?

There’s a crack as your head hits the ground.

“What did you do to me?” You ask, voice breaking. “What did you do to that woman?”

Rio drags the gun up the side of your face, traces your cheekbones, and then presses it to your lips. Instinctively, your tongue darts out to flick at the cold metal, and both their eyes flash. “You still don’t remember everything?” Rio asks.

“I remember that you killed her, and it fucked me up,” you tell them, voice level as it’s finally making sense to you. “I found you two in the woods. You burned her, and then what? You tried to kill the ten year old who saw it? And this is — what? Your way of finally tying up all those loose ends?”

Agatha snorts and Rio scoffs.

“Look at our superstar, thinking she knows everything. We don’t want to kill you,” Agatha says, rolling her eyes. Rio takes the gun away from your mouth and tosses it onto the couch.

Your gaze flicks between them, not sure who to look at. “What do you want then?”

Agatha winds her fingers through your hair and yanks you off your knees, dragging you in for a kiss, biting your bottom lip hard. A metallic taste fills your mouth and it only makes you hungrier, so you open your mouth and shove your tongue into her hot and waiting mouth.

You feel Rio’s body pressing against your back and her hand delves under your waistband to cup you over your soaking underwear. Your hips involuntarily jolt at the contact and you moan, but it’s swallowed up by Agatha’s lips.

The detective pulls your shirt over your head as Rio pushes your underwear to the side and lazily spreads your wetness around your cunt.

There’s a tugging in your gut, a burning, aching, guttural tugging that is going to be the death of you. Electricity skates through your veins, lighting up your blood and setting it to a boil.

You’ve never felt so hot in your life.

Agatha’s lips on your neck do little to quench your thirst for more and Rio shoves two fingers into you with no warning and a gasp tears its way out of you. Agatha bites on your collarbone as Rio twists her fingers and you groan loudly.

“She loves this, Rio,” Agatha says like you aren’t even there. Rio whimpers and curls her fingers, her other hand snaking around to grab Agatha’s throat. The older woman’s breath hitches as she kisses along your bra, tasting the perspiration on your cleavage.

Rio’s fingers inside you and Agatha’s mouth now sucking on your nipples, having pushed your bra down, somehow isn’t enough.

You need to feel them.

Your hands find Agatha’s breasts, kneading them and pulling on her nipples. She makes a noise against your skin and it only sears you more. You slide your fingers down her stomach, over the red marks from Rio’s mouth, and dip them into her pants.

She’s just as wet as you are, and you gingerly rub her clit, gathering wetness from her entrance and bringing it back up to swirl at her. She pants hotly against your skin and you can feel her hand creep behind you to Rio, who has set a slow pace inside you.

“Aggie,” Rio breathes and bites down onto the back of your shoulder. Agatha chuckles breathlessly and you’re able to twist your head just enough to see Agatha’s hands down the therapist’s pants too.

It makes you clench around Rio’s fingers. You’re all being fucked, and fucking someone, and you can feel Agatha’s wetness the same way Rio is feeling yours, the same way Agatha is feeling her wife’s.

You slide your middle finger into Agatha, groaning when her walls flutter around you. Rio squeezes a third finger into you and you keen at the stretch, but then she starts fucking roughly and it’s everything you need and more.

Her thumb swipes at your clit and you try to time your thrusts into Agatha with Rio’s into you.

Rio’s teeth find your shoulder blade again and dig in, and the pain just makes your body feel even more alive.

You’ve never felt like this before. The intensity is tenfold what anyone else has ever given you.

Your ring finger joins your middle and Agatha nips at the curvature of your breasts. Your free hand palms hers and you roll her nipple, enjoying the way she gets tighter around you. Rio plays with her wife’s other boob, and you don’t think you could move a muscle either way because the two women are wrapped so firmly around your body, holding you in place in the middle.

But that’s nothing new. You’ve been intertwined with them since you’ve gotten here, maybe even almost your whole life.

Agatha’s lips capture yours and you can feel her muscles in her arm strain against your bicep. You curl your fingers and find the spongy spot that pulls a resounding gasp from her mouth right into yours. Rio pauses, pulls out, and when she presses back at your entrance, your head almost falls back when you feel four fingers posed.

The detective seems to know because she chuckles against your lips, sucks on your tongue.

And then she pulls away as Rio plunges four fingers into you, the stretch burning. But the pain gives way to even more pleasure and when she twists them upward, you almost cum.

“I’m so close,” you moan and Agatha leans behind you and out of the corner of your eye, you see her kissing Rio. And then Rio pulls your head back by your hair and her mouth is on yours and then there’s a flurry of tongue and teeth and lips and you don’t even know who you’re kissing but it’s someone and it’s so good and you’re about to —

— Rio’s fingers stop inside you and you whine, frantically rolling your hips. Your fingers are still pumping at a steady rhythm inside Agatha and you can feel by the movement in her arm that she’s still fucking Rio.

“Why did you become a profiler?” Rio asks into your ear. “Tell us and we’ll let you cum.” Her thumb brushes against your clit and you’re so sensitive, you think you might be able to cum anyways with that and the fullness.

“You guys…you killed her so I wanted to know why you did, how you could,” you choke out and Agatha peppers kisses all over your chest. The livewire in your body is about to snap.

Rio gives you one harsh thrust and you almost sob. “Try again,” she orders.

Tears prick in your eyes and your fingers falter inside Agatha. You can hear Rio’s breaths becoming shorter and shallower, indicating how close she is. Agatha’s eyes dart from your dark pupils to your swollen lips. She’s still holding onto her composure, better than you and her wife are at least, but you can tell she’s on the edge.

“I don’t know,” you say, but is that the truth?

The thrumming in your head comes back, like a memory knocking on your brain, asking to be let in.

You give in.

Snow.

The clearing.

The three women: two brunettes and one with gray hair.

You can now see that the gray-haired lady is tied to the tree.

The sound of a match on the matchbox.

The match is flicked onto the sticks by someone, igniting the stake and a brilliant blaze of fire erupts.

Who set the fire?

Your eyes snap open, the entire block in your mind gone and the memories flood through your head.

“I wanted to understand why I did it,” you gasp and you know that you finally got it right when Rio starts fucking you with a renowned vigor.

It takes no time at all before you cum explosively all over her hand and the two of them follow shortly after. The feeling of Agatha orgasming around your hand triggers another one in you and you cling to both of them while you come down from the most intense high of your life.

They soothe you, whisper sweet nothings, press kisses all over your face, and you wince when Rio pulls her four fingers out of you, the emptiness filling you.

You start to shake and you don’t realize you’re sobbing until they’re kissing your lips and you can taste the saltiness from your cheeks.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” Agatha says, and they wrap their arms around you, holding you and letting you cry. “We got you. We’re not letting you go.”

You sniff and lean into their embrace, feeling whole for the first time in your life.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along #agatha x rio #rio vidal x agatha harkness #rio vidal x reader #rio x reader #agathario x reader #agathario #rio vidal smut

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hyunnielix · 3 days ago

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already over. | h.h

Series Masterlist

'kissing after a conversation

'bout how we'd probably be better off as friends'

— hyunjin x (f) reader

— word count: 3.9k (unedited - another long one!)

— genre: non-idol au, artist!hyunjin, second chance romance. dance coach!reader

— warning's: felix being a sweetheart, minho being a protective and jealous asshole, angst, fluff. Kissing! (smut in the next chapter...) they're so domestic together it makes me sick.

→ playlist on spotify

Unlike yesterday, today's schedule had been relentless. You'd finished teaching back-to-back classes and your muscles ached, your mind heavy with the kind of exhaustion that begged for sleep. Every step home felt like a victory, and all you wanted to do was collapse into bed and let the world melt away.

You couldn't allow yourself to entertain the thought of what had happened between you and Hyunjin. Each time your mind threatened to wander back to the moment you rested your head on his shoulder, you quickly shoved it aside, afraid of what it might mean, afraid of what it would unravel inside of you.

But as you opened the door to your apartment, it was clear your plans for a quiet evening weren't going to happen. The unmistakable sound of laughter and the clinking of bottles greeted you, along with the sight of Minho and Felix making themselves comfortable in the living room. Felix's bright smile was almost blinding, holding up a bottle of something that looked way too strong for a Tuesday night. Minho leaned back on the couch, swirling a glass of whiskey with casual confidence. You knew it already. He had no intention of letting you off the hook tonight.

“Finally! We were wondering when you'd get back.” Felix teased, his eyes lighting up as he gestured for you to join them.

“Come on, we’re celebrating,” Minho added, his tone lighter than usual but with an underlying firmness that left little room for argument. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground. Time to loosen up.”

You groaned, dropping your gym bag by the door and kicking off your shoes. “Celebrating what? My impending collapse from exhaustion?”

Felix snickered, patting the seat next to him. “Nope. Celebrating you. We figured you’d be too tired to object, so here we are. Sit. Drink. Relax.”

Minho poured a glass for you without waiting for your response, holding it out as if daring you to refuse. “If nothing else, think of it as a preemptive cure for your bad mood.”

You sighed, the weight of the day still pressing heavily on your shoulders, but their smiles were infectious. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude for their efforts to cheer you up. “Fine. But if I fall asleep halfway through, it’s on you two to take care of me.”

You reached for the glass Minho held and lifted it to your lips. The liquid smelt foul, you closed your eyes and downed it in one go.

Felix's deep laugh reverberated through the room as he poured himself another round. “Deal. Now, tell us how your day went before Minho starts lecturing about your lack of work-life balance.”

Minho smirked, raising his glass, the amber liquid swirling under the soft glow of the living room lamp. “It’s a lecture worth giving!” he quipped, his tone carrying that sharp edge of teasing that only he could pull off.

You groaned dramatically, rolling your eyes, but the corners of your lips tugged upward despite yourself. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” You gestured with your empty glass toward him.

He shot you a grin, leaning back against the armrest of the couch, his legs sprawled comfortably. “And yet, here you are, still listening.”

Shaking your head, you slid between Minho and Felix, who had nestled into the opposite corner of the couch with his own drink, the rim of the glass resting lazily against his bottom lip. As you sank into the plush cushions, the fabric cool against your skin, you let out a sigh.

As the evening unfolded, their lighthearted banter and relentless energy started to chip away at the exhaustion clinging to you. Even if you were tired, there was something undeniably comforting about having them here, making you forget, even if just for a little while.

The warmth of the whiskey barely began to settle in your chest when a sharp knock cut through the laughter. Your heart immediately jumped into your throat. You exchanged a glance with Felix, whose eyebrows shot up, and Minho, who frowned and set his glass down.

“I’ll get it,” you murmured, already rising from the couch. The weight of their eyes followed you to the door, and as you pulled it open, there he was. Hyunjin, in all his glory.

He stood in the dim hallway, his long coat damp at the hem from the evening drizzle, hair slightly tousled as though he’d been running his hands through it. In his arms was the canvas—the one he hadn’t finished when you left his studio yesterday. Your breath caught as his gaze locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind his dark eyes. His plush lips parted, as if he was enamoured in the same way you were.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying both urgency and hesitation. “I finished it.”

You hesitated, the doorway suddenly feeling far too small. You could sense Felix and Minho’s curious gazes boring into your back. “Hyunjin, you didn’t have to—”

“I did,” Hyunjin interrupted gently. “It’s yours.” His long fingers gripped the edge of the wrapped canvas as he stretched his arms toward you, offering it like an unspoken apology, a fragile truce. The warmth in his eyes was almost unbearable, and your heart twisted in response.

The raw vulnerability in his tone broke through your defenses, and instead of taking it from him, you stepped aside to let him in. Before he could fully enter, Minho was on his feet, already bristling as he approached the door. You shot him a look.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here,” Minho growled, his posture tense.

Felix still sat on the couch, his head leant in his hands, already sensing the brewing storm. You winced at Minho's tone but didn’t get a chance to say anything before he advanced on Hyunjin.

Hyunjin straightened, his grip tightening on the canvas. “I didn’t come here to argue. I just wanted to give her this.”

Minho’s laugh was cold, biting. “Oh, let me guess. Another masterpiece of her? Did you paint her like a whore again? Do you want the whole word to see it this time? Plaster it up in a gallery?”

The words were a slap to the face. Minho's words were calculated and mean. Your breath hitched, and Felix immediately shot to his feet, his expression a mixture of shock and anger.

“Minho, what the hell?” Felix snapped, storming to the door and stepping between him and Hyunjin.

Your head spun, the alcohol clouding your thoughts, making it nearly impossible to grasp what the hell was happening.

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white around the edges of the canvas. He kept his voice low and seething. “What gives you the right to talk about her like that?”

“Me?” Minho’s voice rose, his anger spilling over. “I’ve been here! Watching her tear herself apart over you! Over everything you left behind! Don’t act like you’re some saint for showing up now with another goddamn painting!”

“Stop it!” you shouted, stepping forward. “Both of you, stop!”

Minho wasn’t finished. He scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter sneer. “You think you can just waltz back into her life, throw some paint on a canvas, and fix everything? You're fucking pathetic."

Hyunjin’s eyes burned with fury, his usually calm demeanor shattering as he stepped closer to Minho, closing the distance between them. “Pathetic? Coming from you?” he shot back, his voice sharp as broken glass. “You’ve been sitting on your feelings, haven’t you? Watching her struggle while doing nothing but sulking in your jealousy.”

A sharp gasp escaped your lips. Your gaze darted to your roommate, seeking clarity in his reaction. Minho avoided your eyes entirely, his jaw tight, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. While Felix shifted awkwardly, his expression caught between discomfort and guilt, like he was carrying a secret that wasn’t his to tell. That was all the confirmation you needed. Minho... liked you?

“Jealousy? You’ve got some ego if you think this is about you. I’ve picked up the pieces while you were too busy playing tortured artist somewhere else.” Minho’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring.

Hyunjin took another step forward and his voice rose. “I left because I thought it was what she needed. But I’m here now, trying to make things right. What have you done besides use her pain to make yourself feel superior?”

Minho scoffed, his anger bubbling over. “At least I didn’t exploit her. What kind of person paints someone at their most vulnerable and calls it art?"

The room froze and Felix let out a sharp, “Minho, enough!” But it was too late. Hyunjin’s hand twitched at his side, his knuckles whitening as his restraint slipped.

Hyunjin snapped, his voice thundering, “You don’t get to talk about her like that.” His shoulders squared, pulling his body taut like a arrow ready to fire.

Minho stepped closer, chest to chest with Hyunjin now, his voice dripping with venom. “Or what? What are you going to do? Paint another masterpiece?” He spat the word like it was a slur.

Hyunjin’s expression darkened, and for a second, it looked like he might swing.

Felix rushed forward, wedging himself between the two of them with his arms outstretched. “Stop it! Both of you!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the room. “This isn’t helping anyone!”

“Get out of my way, Felix,” Minho growled, but Felix didn’t budge.

“Minho, listen to yourself,” Felix yelled, his tone cutting through the tension. “You’re not mad at him." He pointed to Hyunjin. "You’re mad because you’ve been hiding how you feel, and now it’s blowing up. You need to back off before you say something you’ll regret even more.”

Hyunjin with his chest heaving, pointed a finger at Minho. “You think you care about her? Then stop using her to fuel your self-righteous anger and actually support her.”

“Support her? What like you have?” Minho shot back, but his voice wavered, the heat behind his words faltering.

“Enough!” you finally announced, coming to your senses and stepping between them. Your voice cracked with frustration, your hands trembling as you glanced between the two men. “Both of you—just stop. Please.”

The room fell silent except for the sound of heavy breathing. Minho turned his gaze to you, guilt flickering in his eyes, while Hyunjin’s face softened, his anger melting into something else entirely��remorse.

Felix sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “We’re done here,” he muttered, his tone exhausted. He shot a pointed look at Minho. “You need to cool off. Now.”

Minho hesitated, his jaw clenching before he stormed into his room, the door slamming behind him. Lifting a hand to your temples, you rubbed them in small circles, trying to ease the dull ache forming behind your eyes.

Turning to Felix, you caught his gaze. He hesitated, reading the unspoken request in your expression, and then gave you a small, resolute nod. Without a word, he followed after Minho, his footsteps fading as he disappeared into his room.

Hyunjin's gaze settled on you, his voice quiet but steady. “I’m sorry. For all of this.”

You couldn't stand it any longer. The suffocating weight of the argument, the tension, and the silence that followed made your heart race in a way that didn't feel right. Minho’s words echoed in your mind, but they weren’t the ones you wanted to hear. You needed Hyunjin to know that this wasn’t about what Minho said or how angry he got. It was about what you felt and what you still feel.

You swallowed hard, your heart aching as you reached out and touched his hand lightly. “Let’s talk somewhere else,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Hyunjin nodded, his shoulders slumping as he followed you to the front door, the canvas tucked beneath his arm.

The walk to his apartment felt like hours. A faint hum of distant cars filled the quiet spaces between your steps. You and Hyunjin walked side by side, the tension between you like a thread stretched taut, fragile and trembling. Your hands brushed briefly, an unintentional spark that sent a shiver through you, but neither of you made the move to hold on. A weird middle ground. Neither love nor hate.

Hyunjin broke the silence first, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Did you know? That Minho had feelings for you?” He didn’t look at you as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the pavement ahead. “It was obvious as ever to me.”

Your breath hitched, and you turned to him, searching his face for any hint of humor or misunderstanding. But he wasn’t joking—his expression was serious, tinged with something deeper, something that tugged at your chest.

“Even when we were together,” he added, even quieter now. His words were tinged with a bitterness that felt out of place for him. Heavy and undeniable.

You stopped walking, forcing him to pause as well, and turned to face him fully. “Hyune…” you began, but the words felt stuck in your throat. Did you know? Maybe. Subconsciously. But to hear it like this, now, from him, it made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated before asking, tugging your coat tighter. “Is that another reason you left?”

The air bit into your cheeks, cold and unwavering. You recognised he wore his heart on his sleeve, but it felt as though the wrong response could shatter what little balance remained between you. He continued walking.

Hyunjin exhaled heavily, his breath forming a mist in the crisp evening air. The dim glow of the streetlights cast long shadows on the path ahead, their golden hues flickering as the breeze whispered through the trees. His hands were tucked deep into his coat pockets, and his steps slowed, matching the hesitance in his voice. He halted, then turned to face you.

“I thought you deserved better than me,” he admitted, his words laced with quiet regret. “I knew it was just my own insecurities, but… I couldn’t shake it. Minho—he was always steady, always knew how to make you laugh, how to be there for you. And me? I was this mess, trying to juggle my art and ambitions, feeling like I’d never measure up.”

You caught the way his jaw tightened as he spoke. He looked at the ground as though the words themselves were a weight he’d been carrying for too long. You wanted to reach out to him, wrap your arms around his torso and breath him in—the faint scent of strawberries and mint.

"I think I—," He cleared his throat, tapping his shoe against the slick pavement. "Well, I sort of hoped you two would get together so I could prove a point to myself that I was right."

His confession struck you. Gooseflesh peppered your skin and an uncomfortable feeling crawled its way up your throat. How could he think that? even for a second? He began walking once more, and you followed in tow.

The path curved gently ahead, lined with bare trees that reached for the night sky. An occasional car passed by on the road nearby, headlights cutting through the darkness. The rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot was the only sound for a moment as his words settled between you.

“You could’ve talked to me,” you murmured, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. “I would’ve listened, Hyune. I would’ve understood.”

He stopped walking and turned to you, his eyes searching yours, glistening under the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp. “I was scared, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “Scared you’d see me the way I saw myself. Scared you’d realize you were better off without me before I was ready to let you go.”

Your chest tightened, and you blinked away the sting of tears, your gaze dropping to the ground. “You didn’t even give me the chance to decide that for myself,” you whispered, clenching your fists by your side.

Hyunjin reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm as though he was testing if he still had permission to touch you. His touch was warm despite the cold, and you looked up at him again, finding a raw honesty in his expression that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

The two of you stood there, caught in the quiet chaos of your unresolved emotions. Hyunjin gave you a small, tentative smile, his hand lingering. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

He hooked his pinky with yours and you almost breathed a sigh of relief at his touch. Your heart ached at his words, and without thinking, you reached up to brush a strand of onyx hair from his face, your fingers lingering longer than necessary. The air between you felt electric, charged with all the things left unsaid, all the years apart, and the unspoken truth that no matter what, something between you felt alive.

"I like your black hair," you admitted, your voice softer than usual. You couldn't help but admire how it framed his face, though you didn’t want to admit just how striking it made him look. The slit in his eyebrow only added to the allure of his features, making him even more captivating in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.

He blinked at you, his hand instinctively running through his hair as if he hadn’t expected the compliment. "Thanks," he breathed out, a slight flush creeping up his neck. His eyes darted down for a moment, clearly a little thrown off by your comment.

You quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, hoping he wouldn't notice and continued strolling along the path. The streetlights reflected the water of the night's earlier drizzle.

His gaze followed you, and a small, shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “It suits me?” he asked, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You glanced back at him. "Yeah, it suits you well," you muttered, though the words felt strange on your tongue, too soft for the tension which hung between you two.

His apartment building radiated a sense of chic-ness, white marble and trimmed hedges lined the entrance. A lot different from how you remembered it. Although, the familiar creak of stairs echoed in the otherwise quiet hallway.

As you both reached the entrance to his apartment building, the weight of the silence between you felt heavier, more pressing, though neither of you seemed eager to break it. The dim light from the hallway cast long shadows on the walls, and with each step up, the sound of your footsteps reverberated, filling the space.

Hyunjin walked just a few steps ahead, his fingers still gripping the canvas tightly. You couldn’t help but notice how his grip tightened every time you drew closer, like he was holding onto something precious, something fragile— like how it would've been if he held onto you.

You followed him, your mind swimming with thoughts—of the evening, of everything that happened, and the words left unsaid. You could feel the heat of his presence just ahead of you as you both approached the door to his apartment.

He reached the door first, hesitating for a brief moment as if contemplating whether to say something. But when he turned to face you, his expression softened.

"Come in," he murmured, stepping aside to let you in. His voice was quiet but welcoming, as though he was offering you the space to breathe, to feel safe again.

You stepped over the threshold, the door creaking slightly as he pushed it open. As you entered, you immediately noticed the change in the atmosphere—his apartment, though familiar, felt different now, more intimate, more charged. The slight hum of an old refrigerator in the corner filled the silence that followed you both into the room.

Hyunjin carefully set the canvas down on the nearby dining table, his fingers brushing lightly over the edges as if it was something delicate, something important.

Without a word, he turned to you, his eyes searching your face, waiting for you to speak, to fill the void left by the quiet. You couldn't even spare a glance at the canvas, too intertwined with your own thoughts and feelings.

Hyunjin’s apartment felt suffocating and intimate all at once. The scent of paint and faint traces of lavender lingered in the air, grounding you in a place that once was distant but now felt overwhelmingly close.

You stood in the middle of the room, your arms loosely wrapped around yourself like a fragile shield. Behind you, the canvas he’d brought sat on the table, the strokes of his art silently judging. Across the room, Hyunjin leaned lightly against the dining table, his knuckles brushing its edge as though grounding himself. His dark eyes never left you, and their intensity made your stomach churn with nerves.

“What are we doing, Hyune?” Your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper, the words trembling with the confusion and vulnerability you couldn't keep bottled inside. Your lips quivered, tugging downward as the tears you fought threatened to spill.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to be with you again.” The truth of your words hung in the air, raw and echoing in the quiet room.

Hyunjin moved toward you with careful steps, closing the distance with a deliberate tenderness that made your breath catch. He stopped just short of touching you, his presence overwhelming and his gaze heavy.

“I don’t know how to make this easy,” he admitted, his voice low and steady, tinged with vulnerability. “But I know I don’t want to keep pretending I’m fine without you.”

His hand lifted, hesitating for a moment before cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, your body betraying the turmoil in your heart.

“You don’t have to know right now,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours, pleading for understanding. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I just… I need you to know that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words cracked something open inside you, and a tear slipped free, trailing down your cheek. He caught it with his thumb, his touch so tender it made your knees weak.

Your hand instinctively came up to his, holding it against your cheek. “You make it sound so easy, Hyune,” you said, your voice trembling.

“It’s not,” he confessed, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His breath mingled with yours, warm and steady, grounding you in the moment. “But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. Always have been.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in, but not in a way that suffocated. Instead, it felt like the world was forcing you together, creating a space where nothing else mattered.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, your lips brushing his in the softest of kisses. It wasn’t rushed or desperate but slow, filled with the kind of longing that had been buried for far too long.

His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into it. The table, the paint, the world beyond the apartment—all of it melted away. There was only Hyunjin, holding you as if letting go wasn’t an option.

[Tag List] @nujeskz @myfavoritedelusion

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housederiva · 2 days ago

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I keep seeing different people (several of them my mutuals hey gang) say there’s folks going about treating Fictional Character Neve Gallus like the girl in high school they secretly had/have a crush on but were/are too afraid to admit it themselves so were/are mean to at every possible moment instead???

Neve Gallus?? Detective Neve Gallus??? The one people would be down bad for openly if she was shaped like Colombo (meaning attractive white guy) ((yes Colombo is attractive but that’s not what we’re talking about here focus))?? My Wife Detective Neve Colombo Gallus???? Queen of my mind and Lucanis’ and what’s his nuts of the fried fish shop???? (This is very mean to what’s his nuts I think his name is Hallos) Queen Detective Neve Colombo Gallus who once bought an oil lamp for a girl she said she - and I quote ‘was sweet on’ on and lamented on how beautiful the light was when it was still lit??? That Neve Gallus??? My Neve Gallus? Whose coat is so fancy because it was a gift from someone she helped out and she wears it so often she themed an entire outfit around it???? And Maker I wish that someone was me!!!

Where are these people? Who are these people that don’t clench their jaws so hard their molars crack whenever she is on the screen? I’m sorry? Do you not see the little run skip she does to hug Rook when she’s in love with them???? Neve makes me want to sprint down the street and fling myself into [redacted] bay and wrangle up a sea otter in my arms until I calm down and Lucanis feels the same! We’re down at the docs squeezing otters against our chest like they’re stress balls thinking about how cool and awesome and strong and beautiful and kinda and smart and afraid of genuine love our wife is!!!

And who is saying her voice acting’s not good??? Hohoho Santa??? I haven’t seen a single person say that! If you’re out there shoo! Shoo!! If she were some boring ass white guy you would be all over her!!!! Where are you people, come here and tell me exactly why you don’t like this queer woman of color with a beautifully strong nose (which is every strong nose mind you) and eyes more elegant than any that could be carved upon a statue of Aphrodite? The jutt of her chin is exactly like mine and I cried upon realizing that!!! Because if something I’ve seen as a flaw my entire life makes up the eighth wonder of the world on her then I must be beautiful too!!! The arch of her brow and the curve of her lip would put me into cardiac arrest if I thought about kissing them on a human of flesh and bone, I assumed all of the above was a tumblr wide consensus and that we all felt this way????

Call me Inside Out because apparently sometimes I do look at somebody and wonder what is going on inside their head!

#dragon age #Veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #neve gallus #my wife queen detective neve colombo gallus #I’m hyping her up! I’m hyping her too far!#EEEEEAHHHH #(that’s a buzzer)#THERE CAN NOT BE ENOUGH HYPE FOR MY WIIIIIIFE #I have the sweetest story idea for her and Rue and it makes me so happy #Rue? you’re asking? (if you read my tags) ((or my posts for that matter)) I only know rook de riva #cause I’m too shy to share it!!!

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himasgod · 1 day ago

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Wanderer x Cheerful! Reader Headcanons

Where you are traveling companions, and he is gentle with you while you are hyperactive and cheerful.

A series of headcanons based on the relationship you would have with Wanderer if you were a bit clumsy, but very happy and hyperactive. It contains a NSFW section and each headcanon section has sample dialogue.

While you talk non-stop about seemingly trivial things, the Wanderer stays silent, listening to you with a mix of exasperation and fascination. Although he pretends not to pay attention, he can remember every detail of your stories.

"And then the cat jumped off the roof and landed right in my arms! Isn't that amazing?" "More amazing would be if you stopped risking your life for stray animals." "I wasn't risking my life! I just wanted to help him." "Of course, because you're the heroine of all the cats in trouble."

He acts like he’s annoyed by it, always having sarcastic comments ready to respond to your quips, but he actually loves seeing you cheer up. Your laughter is a sound he’s learned to value.

"Look! I bought this ribbon for my hair. Don't you think it looks pretty?" "I don't know what's worse, the ribbon or the amount of time you spent picking it out." "You're so insensitive! I'm not asking you anything again." "It suits you, by the way."

Your energy often brings him out of his state of alienation. Although he finds it hard to admit it, being with you makes him feel more connected to the world.

At first, the Wanderer finds it difficult to fully trust you. His fear of being betrayed makes him keep an emotional distance, but your warmth and patience manage to break down his barriers little by little.

"Why do you always act like you're waiting for me to betray you?" "Because betrayal is the only constant thing I've ever known." "I'm not like everyone else." "That's what everyone says."

When he feels overwhelmed by his past or his internal struggles, it is with you that he finally allows himself to be vulnerable.

"Do you want to talk about it?" "No. Just… stay here." "I'm always here." "I don't know why you trust me so much, but… thank you."

Sometimes you stay silent, resting your head on his shoulder as he closes his eyes and strokes your hair gently.

He loves to make you blush, Wanderer enjoys seeing you embarrassed too much. It can be as simple as getting too close to you or murmuring something in your ear with his low, soft voice.

"Did you know that you look cute when you're focused?" "What are you saying?! Don't just say things like that all of a sudden." "What's wrong? Can't you handle a simple compliment?"

Your reactions are his weakness, even though he constantly annoys you, if someone else tries to make you uncomfortable, his protective side comes out. No one can bother you except him.

"What's someone like you doing traveling with him? You're probably more of a bother than a help." "Say it again and make sure you have somewhere to hide afterward." "Wanderer! It's not that big of a deal…" "I don't care what they think of me, but no one has the right to talk to you like that."

Although he is not the type to openly express affection, his subtle gestures speak for themselves. He places his large hat on your head when the sun is shining hard. He makes sure you always have enough water or food during your travels. If you're hurt or tired, he stops immediately, even if he pretends it's for practical reasons.

"It's so hot here! The sun is burning my head!" "I'll give you my hat. Stop complaining and keep walking." "Thanks… but you could say it nicer, you know?" "That would be unrealistic."

His touches are slow and deliberate, as if he's afraid of breaking something fragile. He prefers quiet moments where he can hold your hand or play with a lock of your hair while you talk.

"Why do you always look at me like that when I'm talking?" "Because you make those weird hand gestures. It's… entertaining." "I don't make them weird!" "Of course not."

Your joy brightens his darkness, your optimism helps him see the world from a more positive perspective. Although he doesn't say it out loud, he realizes that you're a constant light in his life.

"Isn't the sunset beautiful? It's like the sky was hand-painted." "It's just light refracted off water particles." "You're so boring! Just admit it, you like it too." "Maybe a little."

His calmness balances your energy, when you're too excited or anxious, his soft voice and serene presence help to reassure you. Sometimes it's enough for him to take your hand and say, “Breathe. I'm here.”

"Let's go explore that forest! What could go wrong?" "A lot of things. Starting with your tendency to run without thinking." "But you would protect me, wouldn't you?" "That doesn't mean you should purposely put yourself in danger."

Although you're opposites in many ways, you both find something unique in each other that makes you feel complete. To you, he's a safe haven; to him, you're the spark that keeps his soul moving.

Sometimes you argue over silly things, like who's right about a road or how to cook something. It always ends with him winning with his logic and you throwing a pillow or an indignant look at him.

"I told you this was the right path." "And I told you maps don't lie." “Then the map is wrong!” “Or your sense of direction sucks.”

He likes to give you nicknames that annoy you but that you find strangely cute.

“That silly smile again? I should call you ‘Little Sunshine.’” “That's not a nickname! And I don't have a silly smile.”

Even though it's rare, there are times when your clumsiness or your witticisms make him genuinely laugh. When you listen to him, you can't help but stay silent, admiring how beautiful his laugh is.

“I’m fine, don’t worry!” “You’re a walking disaster.” “Are you laughing at me?! It’s so weird to see you laugh!” “Don’t get used to it.”

NSFW.

You notice that something strange is happening when you're talking about anything stupid nonstop and his gaze has a different kind of shine, one that's not curiosity. When you notice that predatory shine and something dark in his eyes, while his pupils descend towards your lips wet from talking so much, you know what he's thinking about instead of paying attention to you.

And so, at the moment when you continue talking, distracted by seeing his eyes like that, you get stuck while speaking and a small smirk covers his lips as he asks you, please, to keep talking.

So, while you are both distracted and trying to continue talking about anything, you notice how his hand absentmindedly travels to your thigh to give it a squeeze.

You're cooked. When Wanderer wants something, he gets it, greetings.

He teases you, whispering in your ear that you dare not continue talking as he begins to lower his lips to your neck.

Likewise, as he fucks you, he murmurs that he would love to see your hyperactive smile that you hide while you bite your lips desperately trying not to moan his name so as not to give him more reasons to tease you.

In truth, he is much softer with you, so those moments are something special. Protect him, he loves you very much, do not hurt him.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

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isadelusions · 3 days ago

Text

Daisuke [Mouthwashing]

| vlogger x editor(reader) au | fem reader | fluff | pt1 > pt2

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

Pretty Duo hm?

- He’s been making videos for quite a while and hired an editor because he isn’t too experienced with editing.

- He makes a video pretty much every week, sends it to you, tells you some details he would for his video with a little, you’ll edit, sends the finished product, he loves it and post. Repeat.

- After a few weeks, the both of you started chatting with each other regularly,checking up on each other, talked about the similar hobbies you guys share, laughing at each other’s cringe roblox usernames. You guys even decided to have matching avatars.

-From chatting daily to having voice calls for random game nights to FaceTiming. You were shy at first to reveal your face but as time goes by, you eventually got comfortable with it. (Bro was gagged by your face card)

“I must be lucky to have a pretty editor like you. ;)” ,that line totally send butterflies to your stomach.

- One time he asked if you would like to be in a video and play roblox with him. At first you were quite hesitant since his number of followers were slowly rising and afraid that it would destruct his fans.

“Well if they start hating me, just let them. I rather have that then having some fake fans you know??” “Plus I’m just here to have fun so what can they do? Mhm?”

- After his reassurance, you agreed and record the video together online.

—— ✿ ——

“heyyy guysss I’m back again to play some roblox BUT this time with some company, guys act shocked act shocked,just kidding. Anyways this time I’ll be playing with my lovely editor~”, his screen showing both him and your avatar, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

There was a long pause. “Um…hi?” You said awkwardly as you don’t have much experience being recorded.

But after a while,you got used to it and the both of you decided to play some two player obbies. At first it was going smoothly, just simple jumps and walks. However, when you guys got closer to the end, the difficulty rises.

“DAISUKE PLEASE DONT MISS THE JUMP OR I MIGHT ACTUALLY BREAK. DOWN.”

“STOPP,YOUR STRESSING ME PRETTY GIRLL”

Your skin tingles every time he calls you that but it didn’t make you feel better. He indeed did miss the jump.

…a very long silence

“Alright,breathe in….and breathe out… We can do this..”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, let’s try one last time before I might actually start raging”

You guys were extremely locked in and passed the final stage miraculously.

“WE DID ITTT (y/n), YAYYY”

“EYY GOODJOBB”

You made your character walk in circles around daisuke’s character and he mirrors your actions too.

You then looked at the time to realise it took almost two hours to complete the obbies, it’s already 1am which is quite alright since we’re used to it but you suddenly remembered you had other ‘important’ plans in the morning and cut off daisuke’s next sentence.

“hmm what should we play next-”

“As much as I would love to continue this all with you but I really have to head to bed right now”

“Ouh finally sleeping quite earlier then usual, aren’t we?”

“well I do have plans for tomorrow, quite important to me heh..”

“Okayy then, have a good sle-” he then pauses, his mind recalling his previous chats with you and the puzzle pieces matched. “Wait, your going to that cat cafe you talked about right??? I do remember you sending me a post about it opening for tomorrow or more like ‘later in the morning’ hmm?”

“Yeaaa, oh wait I did told you about it.”

“Could I go with you,pleasee. It’s not too far from my area and plus you get to meet ‘this gorgeous cool guy’ for first time in your lifeee.”

You felt ??? by the sudden plan of his, “mhmmm sure I don’t mind honestly”

“wait really??” “Ofcourse”

“I’ll text you the details later before I head to bed, I gotta go get myself cleaned up. Do remember to send me the clips before heading to bed. Soo I’ll see you tomorrow then hm? ;)”

“Yupp, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Have a good sleep if it’s possible~”

“Alright, goodnight pretty boy” You immediately left the call and got up from your seat, heading to the bathroom to get a quick wash up.

The excitement for ‘tomorrow’ was rising in you but yet feeling nervous and curious. How tall would he be? Would his behaviour be completely different? The thoughts were filling up your mind.

You head to bed with your phone, texting him about the plans while your allow your body to lay on the bed,sheets covering your body, head against your soft pillow.

“How about we meet up at a metro station first? Then we could walk tgt to the cat cafe? How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds great to me;)”

Daisuke replied almost instantly and brought up about having matching outfits and of course you couldn’t turn that offer down.

“hmm let’s match in colours then?”

“Suree”

“Any colours in mind?”

“Hmm, not really”

“Me too honestly. How about I’ll choose it tmr while I pick my outfit hm?”

“Sure but don’t be too lateee”

“Says the one who rarely reads chats in the morning”

“Man shut it, as if you’ll wake up in time”

“Okay okay you win. I guess I gonna sleep now or I’ll be late right, pretty?”

“Alright, goodnight to you”

“Night to you as well”

A small smile plastered across your face as you place your phone onto the small table beside you.

It def took you almost like an hour to only fall asleep due to your own excitement.

-I can picture daisuke kicking his own legs before having his sleep lol

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

I think it will take a long while for me to post parts for this,I’m still new to writing and honestly I’m scared I won’t be able to write the next part. Anyways I hope you guys had a little joy in reading this,take care of your health!loveyouu byee~ :o

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing fanfic #mouthwashing x reader #fluff #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #daisuke #mouthwashing fandom #mouthwashing x fem reader #mouthwashing daisuke #fanfic

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lqveharrington · 2 days ago

Note

Hi, congrats on 2k! I was wondering if you could write Spencer Reid with Clean? Maybe something like Spencer got done with a bad case and is thinking about using but then reader helps him. Thanks!

Clean | S.R.

summary: When Spencer comes back from a bad case, you help him as best as you can; especially when his thoughts wander back to an unpleasant time in his life.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: angst, fluff, addiction, drugging, talks about death, crying,

a/n: i love me some spencer reid 💛 (rules for celebration here!)

As a behavior analyst for the BAU in Quantico, it was your sole purpose to evaluate and look into potential criminals' mindsets. At first, you were hesitant to take the job they offered to you – not wanting to deal with so much pain in life. To your luck, they countered with an office job to manage the data collected by the agents who flew out to deal with the cases face to face instead. You were surprised to hear that they really wanted you on their team. Maybe it was because you took all the psychology classes in high school, or perhaps it was all TV shows you watched just to figure out how they ended in the first episode, but after much convincing by your family, you took the job.

It took adjusting and many days of learning everyone’s name before you could get comfortable with the people you worked with. Especially the team that went out for the cases.

Gideon and Hotch — and eventually Rossi — always scared you just a bit, but you learned they cared for you like a daughter. Emily, Penelope, and JJ loved you more than their job. They always hung back with you whenever they had spare time. Derek did his best not to tease you with how young you started working with the BAU, but soon realized how similar you and Spencer were. Ultimately calling you pretty girl in comparison to Spencer's pretty boy.

When you first met Spencer, you swore you both awkwardly froze and avoided each other until JJ forced the both of you to get along. It wasn't like you disliked him — it was the opposite. You only began to get closer to Spencer when he would bring you hot chocolate every day because of the one time he bumped into you and spilled your drink all over the floor.

Eventually he did ask you out on a date and the rest became history.

You even helped him get clean when the incident happened years ago. That case made reality sink in quickly, especially when you got the emergency call from JJ in Atlanta, Georgia. That was the closest you had ever come to joining the traveling team.

Over the years, you made sure to keep Spencer in check. It scared you to even think about him going back to addiction. Yes, he handled tough cases, but he always knew you were there to help him. Until the most recent case. Where the most recent victim looked exactly like his daughter.

"Hey, when did you guys get back?" You raised your brows in surprise when you found Spencer spinning a pen in between his fingers at his desk. "I didn't get a text from you—?"

"My phone died." He muttered and looked up at you, eyes tired and overworked. Within seconds, you were pulled into his arms as his head found its way into your neck. "Missed you and Liv lots."

"We missed you too, Spence." You wrap your arms around him and rub his back. You let him settle into your arms before you separated and sat on his desk, confused at his sudden affection. "I haven't looked at this case yet. What happened?"

The storm outside thundered, causing him to jump and clasp your hand in his own. You frowned and squeezed his hand, head tilting to the side. Spencer was never this afraid of rain, especially when Olivia loved the rain and always asked the both of you to play in the rain whenever you were both home. So you did what you do best — analyze him based on his behavior.

"Uhm, the victim was kidnapped and drugged until she nearly passed away from how much was injected into her veins." He felt for your pulse and counted how many times you heartbeat passed in a minute. "We were cutting it close with time when she got to the hospital."

You watched the way he kept pushing his hair back and readjusting his glasses. He was constantly fidgeting, which made you frown. He fidgeted plenty, but this felt like it traced a little deeper than the surface showed.

Pursing your lips, you stared at his shaking hands and met his brown eyes. "Spence... There's something more to it, isn't there?"

He swallowed and nodded, voice coming out quieter than intended. His hold on your hand tightened as he spoke, eyes shutting like he was in pain. "She uh... She looked just like Olivia, just older."

Your heart broke when you heard his voice crack. He hadn't thought about his own addiction in a while, and seeing a girl who looked like his daughter having a similar experience had him spiraling. You saw the look in his eyes, how scared he was to ever think of losing you or losing Olivia in the process of going back to addiction. He seemed to overthink the entire situation. If that was his own daughter — who he prayed wouldn't ever be harmed in any of his cases — he probably would've quit on the spot.

"Listen to me, Spence." You start and took both hands in your own, smiling softly when you saw his wedding ring adorning his hand. It had been a couple of years since you married him, but every time you saw the matching rings, you were instantly transported back to the day.

You squeezed his hand and kissed the back of them three times, one thing you began doing since you started dating. "Olivia and I know you will do everything in your power to be there for us. We also know you would do everything not to go back to drugs, you know why?" When he stared at you with wet eyes, you continued, your own voice cracking. "Because you love us too much to ever risk yourself to a life of addiction. You have grown so much and we both know you would hate yourself forever if Liv saw you injecting Dilaudid into your own arm."

He stayed quiet and listened to your words intently. Even with his IQ of 187, he knew you were right. He had thought about going back, letting the drugs take him back to the dark place he said he never wanted to go back to. But as always, you pulled him out of the dangerous waves before the water could fill his lungs. You were one of the only people who could hear his cries without anything being said.

You brought a hand up and wiped a stray tear falling from his eye, like you could hear his unspoken thoughts. "I know you Spencer Walter Reid. I can read you like the back of my hand, and not because that's my job, but because you let me know you."

Like a surge of the perfect storm brewing outside, he cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was filled with all his stored emotions from one singular case. You could feel the desperation, love, need. He sought out for you in his darkest times. You kept him clean all these years and he wasn't going to let that streak die because of a hard case.

You and Spencer both went to pick Olivia up from her ballet lessons, wanting to surprise her. And boy was she happy to see both her parents. When she heard the bell ring above the studio's front door, her head peek above the half wall and met her parents' eyes. She but all squealed in happiness and rushed over to Spencer first, jumping into his arms and grabbing his face in her small hands.

"Hi, daddy!" She giggled and squished his cheeks, her pink tutu splayed over him. "I missed you a lot! Like, more than the entire world a lot."

"I missed you too, Liv." He smiled and kissed her cheek, lowering his head to whisper into her ear. "Have you been good for mommy while I was away?"

She tilted her head and gave him a cheeky grin, reading him as well as you could. "I'm always good for mommy."

You raised your eyebrow at her and tickled her sides before kissing her cheek as well. She was the sun that shooed all the dark clouds from Spencer's mind. Of course, she would never know that. Not until she understood everything her father went through to be there for her.

"Go get your stuff so we can get home. I'm sure daddy is tired and wants to hear all your stories from school." You nod your head toward her pink backpack, the different keychains and trinkets Spencer bought her hanging from every zipper.

"Oh, daddy, I have so many stories to tell you! Like that one time—!"

"Get your stuff first, Liv." He let her down from his arms and chuckled when she ran toward the cubbies, stuffing all her belongings into her bag.

You perched your chin on his shoulder and looped your arm around his — the both of you watching your daughter with loving eyes. He understood what it meant to be BAU Special Agent, but he also understood what it meant to be a husband and father. He knew that the balance between work and home was difficult, but he would do anything to keep his family safe. Would he quit? No, you would never let him. But he would ensure that his thoughts would never wander back to such a dark place.

He would stay clean just for you and Olivia.

"I love you." He whispered to you and turned his head to meet your eyes, smile echoing your own. "Like more than the whole world."

You laugh softly and kiss his cheek, "I love you too, Spence. Don't ever forget it."

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five-rivers · 3 days ago

Text

Ghost in a Bottle

This is my truce gift for @linziefey! I've made a picture and a little ficlet to go with it, beneath the cut. Hope you enjoy.

Danny sat on the roof of the Ops Center, trying to ignore the sounds of his parents yelling at each other down in the house. The evening was clear on this Christmas Eve, and he was hoping to see some stars, despite the light pollution. The increased light pollution. Curse the ten million different Christmas displays. And Christmas, just in general.

There was the sound of an ecto-gun going off in the house, and something breaking. Danny rolled his eyes, then rubbed them. Christmas couldn’t be over soon enough. He didn’t know how Jazz dealt with all of this.

He looked up again. The sky was a dusky color, and, if he remembered correctly… There. The first star.

“Star bright, star light, first star I see tonight,” mumbled Danny, hoping that a touch of whimsy would do something to break through his general holiday malaise. “Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”

He sighed again. What did he wish? Not that the fighting would stop. That was impossible. He knew better. But what else…? Oh, yeah. There was another problem that haunted him every time he laid down in bed or finished a meal.

“I wish Dani was somewhere safe,” he said.

Desiree hadn’t come to Amity Park looking to make trouble. Not this time. At least, she hadn’t come to make trouble right now. She’d just wanted to boost her powers with some Christmas wishes - all of them granted in the spirit of the wish, of course! She didn’t want to wind up on the wrong side of the Truce.

But this? This was a little too good to pass up.

She knew better than to say it out loud, but, well, she mouthed the words.

As you have wished it, so shall it be!

Dani Phantom was minding her own business. And, okay, maybe her own business involved a lot of pickpocketing, maybe some breaking and entering, just a little bit of shoplifting… Okay, it was mostly shoplifting, but it wasn’t like stores were people, and this chain was owned by Vladco, so, really, it was like child support or whatever.

Danny didn’t know how child support was supposed to work, so Dani didn’t either. Most of her memories were effectively his, after all.

The point was, she wasn’t bothering anyone and just going through her normal day when a portal just opened up underneath her.

She fell in, of course.

Dani fell. Before she fell very far, she transformed, but by that point she had already fallen through the portal, which promptly vanished, just in time for Dani to run into the curved wall of glass that had been behind it. She stopped and looked around.

The room she was in… wasn’t a room. It was a round glass bottle. One held by–

“Desiree!” shouted Dani, raising her hands in preparation to fight and ignoring how the bottom of her foot was already dripping ectoplasm. The genie-like ghost was floating beyond the glass, her hair loose and a red shawl draped across her shoulders. The room beyond was dark and filled with pale green smoke. “I wish I was out of here and kicking your butt!”

“Hello, dear,” said Desiree, “I am afraid I cannot hear you. The glass, you see, and you are so, so small.” She tapped the stopper that closed off the bottle.

Dani scowled. Her shins were starting to melt.

“Now, I am sure you are wondering what wish landed you here.” She smiled and circled. “Your cousin. So incautious, wishing for you to be somewhere safe, not thinking at all about what that would mean. But rest assured, you will be quite safe in this little bottle, just as I was in mine.”

She tilted the bottle back and forth. “Although, if you had a wish…”

Yeah, Dani had some wishes. Mostly ones that involved giving Desiree a black eye or making her back off.

“But, oh, if you are anything at all like that cousin of yours, how could I trust you not to attack me the moment I took out this cork?”

Dani’s rings flickered into being briefly around her waist, but she banished them. Even if she was melting, she wanted the protection from ghost powers her ghost form provided. She didn’t trust Desiree at all.

“But it is truce time,” said Desiree, tilting her head, her red eyes glinting. “The time when ghosts refrain from fighting or harming one another.”

“This is what you count as refraining from harm?” demanded Dani, incensed. Despite wishing to kick Desiree’s butt earlier, she knew what the truce was - barely - thanks to Danny’s memories. So, she knew what had happened to Ghostwriter when he’d broken it. She just hadn’t realized the truce was now. She hadn’t been keeping track of the date. Things like that were sort of a luxury for people like her.

Desiree swirled the bottle again. “So, perhaps I will take the risk and let you try to wish yourself out of your… predicament. In the spirit of the truce, I will even keep to the spirit of your wish. Consider it a Christmas wish.”

There was a catch here. Desiree talked like Vlad, and with Vlad, there was always a catch. There was no way that Desiree would just let her wish herself free.

More of Dani’s foot melted off. That could be the catch.

Probably not, though.

“And while you are thinking, think of your cousin getting you into this mess, and all those people who are safe and warm and full at home…” She tapped the glass wall of the bottle. “Just think.”

Okay, there was the catch. Desiree expected her to make trouble for Danny. Well. She wouldn’t. So, there.

But… now she was thinking about the things Desiree had said. She was thinking about Danny, and how he’d been thinking about her, and had wanted her to be safe, and she was thinking about all the people who were home for the holidays… with their families.

Then, Desiree popped the cork off the bottle and smiled broadly. “What do you wish for?”

Dani bit her lip and put her hands on the bottle wall. She wished– She wanted– “I wish my family was together - like a real family - for the holidays.”

Desiree threw back her head and laughed. “As you have wished it, so shall it be.”

Dani woke up in a bed. It took her a few minutes to realize why this was strange. Once she did, she sat straight up, completely awake.

This– This was Vlad’s house. She recognized the moulding and the furniture style and color scheme. But…. other than that… She looked all around the room. There were posters on the walls, and they weren’t Packers themed. They were mostly for bands, ones that Dani liked, when she’d been able to hear them, but there was one for that skateboarder she’d heard of, Tony Hawk, a couple for spacecraft, and a huge, detailed world map. The desk had a computer and a bunch of video games, and there were little things scattered around the room. Toys and gadgets, art projects and models. A bookshelf was full of books whose titles were things like Deep Sea Exploration and Hidden Wonders of Eastern Europe.

Feeling dazed, Dani climbed out of bed. How had she gotten here? Had Vlad kidnapped her and set this up to try and, what, buy her forgiveness? That didn’t sound like him, except for the part where he would get to avoid saying sorry.

Except, the last thing she remembered was Desiree… And that wish…

Well, if Vlad tried anything funny, she’d– Do something. Probably. She ran an ectoblast over her fingers to test how stable she was. That seemed to be… okay.

Time to investigate.

She eased the door open and peered out into the hallway. It was empty. She stepped out.

“Dani? Why are you still in your PJs?”

She jumped. She didn’t know how she’d missed him before, but Danny was standing there, wearing a vest and dress pants and tying on a bow tie.

“Um,” said Dani.

“I know it’s kind of stupid,” said Danny, rolling his eyes. “But Dad likes it when we’re all ‘put together’ for Christmas pictures, and we can do that for him, I guess.”

“Oh, um, right,” said Dani.

She was going to beat the heck out of Desiree. Spirit of the wish her butt. At what point had she wanted some kind of alternate universe where Danny called Vlad Dad.

“Are you okay?” asked Danny.

“No– I mean yes,” said Dani, quickly. How could she ask what she wanted to know. “Is there, um. I’ve forgotten, um.”

“The Fentons are coming at two,” said Danny, patiently answering at least one of them. “Dan’s coming by at three, since he wanted to go to Johnny’s truce party, everyone else is coming at five, for dinner.”

“Uh,” said Dani.

“Or did you want to know if you’re the last one up? Yeah. I’m pretty sure the rest of our sextuplets beat us down. At least, I heard Dusty thumping around. Are you sure haven’t caught a cold or something?”

“I’m fine,” said Dani. “I’m just going to go. Get changed.”

She retreated back into the room and shut the door. Then she sat down. Sextuplets. Six. That’d be everyone, all the clones, including the ‘perfect’ one, plus Danny. Who knew who Dan was, though… She shook her head. It didn’t matter. None of this mattered. She should be out looking for Desiree to get her to fix this.

But… Would it really be so bad if Dani waited to find her until after Christmas? It wasn’t like Danny liked Christmas with his family all that much.

She chewed her lower lip then opened her closet. Hopefully, there would be something in there better than skirts.

#danny phantom #holiday truce #dp holiday truce #christmas truce #secret santa #fic #art #my art

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martybaker · 12 hours ago

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There was only one couch

Tfw you cannot find the jayvik fic you crave so you write it yourself 🙃

I also gotta preface this with - Does it even make sense that they would have microwaves in Piltover? Do they have electricity? My quick search didn’t yield any decisive results so if you know pls lmk. Also, I don’t really know if Jayce is making any sense talking about them but in my defense, he is sleep deprived (and I am dumb and didn’t put any real research into this, sorryy)

—————————

They’ve been stuck at this problem for hours, any potential paths they managed to come up with immediately shattering after but a couple pokes of logic aimed to test the solidity of their foundations. Like bubbles popped by a child’s finger. Like heated corn kernels. Like dreams of making a difference-

Viktor’s too tired to think in metaphors.

He drops the pencil and swivels in his chair, facing Jayce who’s already draped across their shabby sofa, long legs sticking out from one end, head inclined on the armrest on the side closer to Viktor.

“What if we…err, try to like, microwave it, but I don’t mean like an actual microwave,” he waves his hands in the air as he talks, as if that would help illustrate his train of thought, “but like a device, a - an oven, that could create vibrations and …uhhh, direct the particles? Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Viktor chuckles. He doesn’t know why he does, it’s not even particularly funny, the exhaustion must have erased any common sense of his that was left. Yet it’s…comforting to see that same exhaustion mirrored in Jayce. The same dark circles, the same bone deep tiredness weighing him down, the same look of frustration after they’ve been hitting dead ends and running in circles. It’s a shared exhaustion, just like the hard work is shared. Probably should have called it a night hours ago. They both direly need the rest.

“Ovens and microwaves? That would be your hunger speaking, I’m afraid,” Viktor says, reaching for his cane, grinding his teeth to gather the energy to push himself up onto his feet.

“Nah, m’not hungry,” Jayce mumbles. “We had those sandwiches for lunch. Or was it dinner? What time is it even?”

“Too late by all accounts,” Viktor says, taking the few steps towards the couch. He looks at Jayce, who seems glued to the couch and likely is planning to spend the night there. Viktor looks towards the door, but hesitates. The idea of the track across campus to his lodgings really doesn’t sound appealing.

It’s not even that far, the university tried to accommodate Viktor’s needs as best as they could and gave him a room on the ground floor, plus the building is the closest housing to the Engineering department’s laboratories. And yet, today it feels miles away. Damn his leg, damn all the stairs, and damn his hubris for yet again pushing his body beyond its limits, knowing fully well it will backfire ten folds and render him even more useless in the morning.

Jayce notices his hesitation, damn his partner’s bright mind too. He can read Viktor too well, he guesses the reason for his histation despite Viktor’s lack of complaining.

“Oh, do you wanna sleep here? I’ll head home, no problem,” he suggests way too readily, already hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

Viktor tsks and pushes against Jayce’s chest, pushing him back down into the couch.

“Stay,” he hisses. Jayce lives off campus, it would take him much longer to get home. Viktor’s not about to kick him out. And he doesn’t care for compassion either.

Jayce knows this, yet the man cannot help but be kind and caring, and though it irritates Viktor when it's aimed at him, it is also a quality of Jayce’s that he admires. He’s kind to everyone. Meets everyone halfway. Though at times they push too far, and Jayce lets them. Too kind for his own good.

Viktor shakes his head, trying to clean it, the stacked up piles of thoughts seem to have all spilled inside his brain and are rattling around. Rest. He needs to rest.

He looks at Jayce, who is still lying down on the couch, hands raised as if in surrender, big doe eyes staring at Viktor. Was Viktor too cross with him just now? He’s unable to determine. He pats Jayce’s knee in an attempt to smooth over his own prickly temperament.

“I just…I need to take a moment. Before I head out,” he tries. He hopes Jayce won’t insist. He is too tired to come up with reasonable arguments. He doesn’t wanna fight.

But Jayce doesn’t fight, he nods, then he bites his lip and opens his arms.

Hmm.

Viktor considers.

The couch is clearly too small for one grown man, let alone two.

Still it would be more comfortable than the chair.

And Viktor’s not averse to touch. Despite perhaps coming off as such. To everyone, except for Jayce.

It is true that he doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, especially unexpectedly. But he is human and just like for anyone else, there are moments when he would welcome touch. Moments when he finds it comforting. And Jayce is a very tactile person. He didn’t hold back from putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder the very first day they met, and he hasn’t stopped since. There was a moment near the beginning of their partnership when someone pointed out Viktor’s (alleged) aversion to touch and Jayce panicked, apologizing profusely for making him uncomfortable, and it took days for Viktor to convince him he really didn’t mind. Because that was the truth, Viktor didn’t mind. Not when it was Jayce.

Of course cuddling on the couch was an entirely different matter.

They’ve never done that before, however, Viktor wasn’t a stranger to the comfort of a warm body next to his either.

From cuddling with his parents for warmth as a kid in one too small bed, to seeking the pleasures of a lover to relieve stress, the warmth of a body next to his was undoubtedly beneficial.

And he and Jayce are friends. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

And so Viktor slowly drops his cane to the floor and lowers one of his knees to the couch, trying to figure out how to arrange himself next to Jayce.

Jayce tries to help but it takes some maneuvering, what with Viktor’s leg and their sleep deprived brains, there are a couple of winces and pointy elbows and just way too many limbs, an “Oof” from Jayce when he earns a knee to his stomach, but eventually Viktor finds himself situated with his back against the back of the couch, his head on Jayce’s chest, right leg on top.

It’s…it’s warm.

It’s nice.

It’s not a big deal.

“Okay?” Jayce checks.

Viktor hums. He can hear Jayce’s heartbeat, feel his breath on his forehead. Smell the musk, the odor of an unshowered body, but he has no right to complain, they both haven’t showered for however many hours or days they’ve been locked in here.

Jayce’s heartbeat and breathing slows, but Viktor cannot slow his racing thoughts. He can feel every point of contact where their bodies are touching. He can feel Jayce’s muscular chest moving under his hand. Jayce’s right hand briefly pets Viktor’s hair before it settles on top of his shoulders. Viktor fights against the urge to burrow closer, to inhale Jayce’s smell, to tug his hand back into Viktor’s hair.

Stupid sleep deprived brain. Viktor could have figured such close proximity to a warm body would reduce him to animal instincts. He can only be glad he’s way too sleepy for his nether parts to react as well.

Jayce feels his restlessness. How could he not, pressed so close.

“Viktor,” he whispers, warm breath tickling Viktor’s forehead and despite himself Viktor exhales and melts against that strong chest even more. “You can rest, V, I’ll wake you in a couple of minutes and walk you home.”

My ass you will, Viktor thinks, we’re both gonna fall asleep here, your right side will be completely numb and my back will be killing me tomorrow. He’ll barely be able to stand. But he’s too tired and too comfortable to say any of that now. It’s a Tomorrow Viktor’s problem anyways. This Viktor burrow’s closer against Jayce’s chest, letting all his worries and all the problems fade, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep.

#jayvik #jayce x viktor #arcane #jayvik fic #jayvik fanfic #arcane jayvik #jayce talis #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #my writing #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #one (1) throwaway sentence about microwaves and now i am having a whole ass crisis #about whether they have electricity in piltover #or chemtech or magicky substances or what #sigh i need to do more worldbuilding research

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 3 days ago

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The Last Drop

|| Sevika x fem!reader

|| Warnings; bar settings, drunk reader, reader gets in a scuffle with Sevika, gambling mentions, drunk flirting, struggles with feelings, short drabble, maybe a series if the people want it

|| Summary; when reader's well into her drinks, she decides to mess with Sevika. Just a little more.

Requests open!!

Started; December 24th

Finished; December 24th

HurtCember2024; Day 21, Afraid

Request; i NEED an enemies to lovers

~~~

The bar was filled with various conversations, loud laughter, and the occasional scuffle.

You were sat down in a booth not too far from the counter. Well into your fourth drink and definitely starting to feel the effects of it. You'd been to The Last Drop enough times to be considered a regular by this point. The bartender knew you by name and your usual go to orders. You'd even been around enough to make some enemies.

The main one was definitely not someone you should have pissed off. Silco's right hand, Sevika. You'd been really drunk one night and after losing to her in a gamble, you'd thrown your drink at her. She did not take well to that. The two of you have kept at a distance ever since. You'd be on one side of The Last Drop while she'd go to the complete opposite end.

Today was no different. You were in your usual spot, while Sevika was far off in the corner. Playing a game of cards. Finishing your fourth drink, you went to the bartender and ordered another. This time going with something a little lighter. As he was mixing the drink, your drunken mind got a brilliant idea.

A grin slid its way across your lips and you marched right over to Sevika, reading off her cards out loud for the rest of the players. They shared confused glances while Sevika's hand crushed the cards she was holding. Turning to you with a glare so sharp that if looks could kill... you'd be a goner.

"You think you're funny?" Sevika asked. Though, you knew it was a rhetorical question. Not that that stopped you from answering, of course. Anything to push Sevika's gears a little further.

"Yeah, I do. Some other people here would agree too," you shrugged. Next thing you knew you were pinned up against the wall. Your heart raced as her prosthetic crossed your face. Keeping your mouth shut. The metal sending a shiver through your body.

There was a part of your feelings towards Sevika you'd always ignored. Being afraid to say anything about them. Probably a smart choice too because you could almost guarantee that Sevika didn't see you the same. Unless pissing each other off was also her way of flirting and honestly, you could see that for her. But you played it safe. For the most part... when you were drunk like this it was a different story.

"We gonna kiss or what?" You asked with a teasing smirk, after squirming your way up just enough to free your mouth. Sevika's eyes narrowed and she shoved you to the floor.

You hit the ground with a thud, a bouncer making his way over to separate the two of you.

Sevika just huffed and sat back down where she had been before. A deeper part of her felt a little flustered by your comment. A fluster she masked with anger. However, she wasn't sure if that was just the alcohol or if a dumb part of her was starting to feel things for you...

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 2 days ago

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Heart on a Chain (Scrooge!Aemond x Reader)

Christmas day and a recently rediscovered ring bring unpleasant and unwanted memories.

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge-coded Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Angst :(

Author's note: The guy that played young Scrooge at the Christmas Carol I went to today was hot and the way he carried himself reminded me of Aemond so... here we are. Wrote this in less than two hours lmao.

Heart on a Chain

Christmas Day.

For the past two years, Aemond had not given more than a passing thought to the holiday. That thought being annoyance at having to pay his employees a full day’s wages for no work.

It was just another day. He woke, read the papers while he ate, then went to the office. He balanced the books, double-checked the work of his clerks, and inspected the warehouse’s stock. He sat with his business partner and discussed new prospects.

Even now, Cole was telling him about a potential new partnership he’d identified. A newly founded firm, desperate for reputable clients, would be almost too easy to maneuver into a contract that would heavily favor Targaryen & Cole. Ordinarily, Aemond would be eager to sink his teeth into the prospect, but now…

Now, he could not focus on Cole’s words. He could not bear to look at the pages of figures strewn on the table before them. He couldn’t even remember the name of the new firm, or what it was they did.

His entire world had faded to the ring that sat in his pocket.

Dull, cheap gold set with a pathetically small cabochon – he didn’t remember what the stone was, just that it was vaguely red. It looked ridiculous against the fine gold chain he’d purchased. That was the reason it remained in his pocket, rather than around his neck, he told himself.

It certainly wasn’t because he was afraid to see it out in the open, to be reminded of the slender hand it had once graced and the woman it had belonged to.

He hadn’t thought of her in years. Had not let himself, from the moment the door closed behind her. The same door that now loomed behind Cole, where the dented brass bell swayed slightly from the draft, just as it had three Christmases past…

“Aemond?”

He held back a sigh. Why did she have to come now? He was busy, as he told her he would be. He did not want to be disturbed, as he also told her. He had even agreed to go to Christmas dinner at her parent’s house that evening to ensure she would not bother him during the day.

Yet, here she was.

“Yes, dearest?” he called as he climbed off the ladder. Best to be sweet now, to soothe whatever mood had taken her this time. If she came all the way down to Cornhill and made it past Cole in the office, she must be in quite the state.

Indeed, as she found him amongst the massive rows of shelves, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with tears that sparkled with the reflection of his lamp. Still, she was beautiful. If only she would content herself with what he had to do to ensure the security of their life together.

She stopped, straightening her shoulders. Her furious blinking betrayed the fact that she was battling her tears to keep them from falling. “Aemond, we need to speak.”

“I assume there is something particular you wish to speak about?” He was distracted as he walked toward her, the label on one of the crates he passed catching his eye.

That order was supposed to be shipped out days ago. He’d dock Cargyll’s wages by half this week for allowing such a major error. The recipient of this shipment was very particular and would undoubtedly complain that his goods were late.

“We must discuss our agreement,” her voice, now bordering on shrill, reclaimed his attention.

What was there to discuss? He’d agreed to go to her house after he finished work at six, and… damn. When he pulled his watch from his waistcoat, he found it was already half-past seven. Still, dinner wouldn’t be served until eight. He had time. “I admit I’m running late, but with all the workers out for the holiday – ”

“Not about that agreement, Aemond. About our engagement.” A heavy stone settled in Aemond’s stomach, chill as ice. She continued, “I cannot help but feel that an idol has displaced me in your affections.”

The stone turned hot and rancid with anger. “And what is this idol, may I ask?”

“A golden one.” Her tears vanished, replaced with cold righteousness. “Wealth and power, and everything else your father denied you.”

“Is it a sin to seek security? To endeavor to escape the cruel grasp of poverty and helplessness?”

She came closer to him, setting a gloved hand on his arm. He had to resist the urge to pull away. “Your fear and resentment have overpowered your nobler aspirations,” she said softly. “Now, your only passion is gaining more and more, beyond what is necessary.”

Aemond took her hand, suppressing the urge to seize her shoulders and shake sense back into her. “Even if that were true, I am not changed toward you.”

To his horror, she pulled away, shaking her head.

“Dearest?”

She flinched as if the word struck her. “Our agreement was made long ago. When we were poor and in love and content to remain so.”

“I was a boy, then,” he scoffed.

“And I loved that boy!” She fell quiet for a moment, turning away from him when he reached for her. “But that boy is gone, and my heart aches for him. It is in his memory that I release you from our agreement.”

Until that moment, Aemond had nearly forgotten he had a heart. But her words shattered it, and pain wracked through his chest. Juvenile fear and distress took hold of him. He approached her, oblivious to her feeble attempts to move away, and took her in his arms. “Dearest, I do not understand. Have I ever sought release?”

“Not with words.”

“In what, then?”

She finally faced him again, and he knew he would never forget the horrible sight of her heartbreak and disdain – disdain for him. “In a changed nature and spirit. You do not look at me as you used to, Aemond. I used to feel beautiful when you looked at me, but now, I feel like a burden saddled upon you.”

“That is not true,” he begged.

“Tell me, honestly,” her gaze and voice steadied, even as tears spilled down her soft cheeks. “If you were to make the choice today, would you choose a dowerless girl?”

Aemond wanted to say no. But the world would not form. All he could say was, “You think not.”

The tension in her body vanished, her shoulders sagging and her head drooping. She looked up at him with despairing conviction. “With a full heart, for the love of who you once were, I release you.” She backed away from him, and his heart went with her. “May you be happy in the life you have chosen.”

She had only taken three steps away when he called her name, extending a hand to her.

But when she set her hand in his, he harshly pulled away.

He extended his hand once more. “My ring.”

It was her ring, he knew. It always was and always had been, even when he had forgotten about it. It was likely why, that night, he had thrown it carelessly into a dresser drawer to get it out of his sight. To forget the pain that had been contained within that strange, reddish stone.

But his maid had found it three days prior and given it to him, unleashing all that pain back into the heart-shaped hole in his chest. It was ruining him, that pain, clouding his mind and stealing away his better judgment.

“Aemond?” Cole’s voice was filled with annoyance. “Have your senses fled with the workers? What is wrong with you?”

Wrong? Nothing was wrong with him. Something was missing. She was missing. “Forgive me, Cole,” he said. “I must have eaten something odd. I’m afraid I am out of sorts.”

“Well, you’re no use like this. Go home. Come back all the earlier tomorrow, though!”

Aemond was already out the door, his coat only half-buttoned.

Home. He needed to go home, eat a hot meal, and go to bed early. Yes, a good rest would fix whatever had gone wrong inside him. He just needed to get home.

His feet didn’t take him home. They carried him to a place that he may once have called home but no longer. Equally traitorous, his hand raised in a fist to knock on the door he once would have entered without a second thought.

A cheering from beyond the door halted his movements, and Aemond moved to glance through the nearest window.

There she was. Just as radiant as he remembered. Even more so, for she smiled.

She smiled at the babe she held in her arms.

A babe who bore the same smile as its mother. But its eyes and hair were different. Those had been inherited not from its mother but from the father who stood behind the child and mother, looking on them both with unabashed adoration and pride.

Aemond had looked at her in much the same way, when he had been capable of feeling such things.

All the air left his chest. Had he ever been able to breathe? Perhaps he would die before he remembered how to. Part of him wanted to.

But somehow, he pulled enough air into his lungs to fuel his body as he walked across town to his own home. He ate his dinner, read the evening papers, and retreated to his bedroom. There, he readied himself for bed. Yes, a good night’s rest would cure him of this ailment.

He did not realize until he laid upon his bed that the cool metal of a chain rested against his skin.

If he could not bear his heart in his chest, he would wear it around his neck.

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lostbookmark · 3 days ago

Text

🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship, Stealing Prescription Drugs, Selling Drugs,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

A/N: I'll probably skip updating next week, but I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a happy New Years! (If you celebrate) If not, I hope you have an amazing day, and I'll see you all in two weeks!

“Strawberry shortcake,” Mrs. Lee tells you as you bag her purchases in her reusable floral print tote. “That's why I need so many strawberries. My son just loves my strawberry shortcake. Do you remember Hyun, Y/N? I think you went to school together.”

“Umm, yeah, I remember him,” you confirm as you slide her the bag of red morsels, but she seems to ignore the gesture. “He was always really nice.” He wasn't. He was a dick but you couldn't say that to her.

“He's single, now and I heard through the grapevine that you are too. I always thought he had a little crush on you,” she informs you, and you sigh internally. “I can give you his number, but he has to be home by eight o'clock. He could use a good girl like you to keep him on track.”

“On track? He has a curfew?” You ask warily, nudging her strawberries closer to her with the tip of your finger, but she still chooses to ignore them. “At our age?”

“Well he's on parole…” she starts with a small shrug of her shoulders as if that wasn't a big deal.

“I'm sorry….what? You realize I'm a teacher, right? I can't date criminals,” you tell her and then quickly shut your mouth at the hard glare she sends you. It made you even take a step back away from the white plastic table between the two of you, afraid that she might jump over the barrier at you. Her glare was murderous.

“He's not a criminal, Y/N! He just made an honest mistake. I didn't think you would be so judgemental, but knowing your mother, I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You are just as stuck up as she is. ” Mrs. Lee snatches her fruit from the table and stomps away.

“Holy cow,” Tae says with a stunned expression, watching as the mad woman hurries off to her next destination. “You really made her mad.”

“I'm taking a break,” you tell him, and he nods his head in response.

Walking around the table, you round the corner to go behind the tent. You see Hobi and Yoongi standing over some light colored wooden crates filled with vegetables as they hold clipboards in their hands. You approach them and throw your hands in the air.

“This is the last time I'm coming here,” you announce dramatically. “Never again. Nothing good ever happens when I come here. Somehow, I always end up being embarrassed in front of the whole town.”

“This is only your second time coming here,” Yoongi says, not looking away from his paperwork.

“What happened?” Hobi asks, completely turning to you giving into your antics like the good friend he is.

“Why is Hyun on parole?” You answer with your own question. "What could he have possibly done here?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hobi said knowingly, placing his hands on his hips. “He got caught stealing from the pharmacy when he worked there as a technician.”

“He tried selling to some high school kid who ratted him out to the police,” Yoongi adds, finally glancing at you with an amused expression. “Arrested him right here in the middle of town. I unfortunately missed it, but I heard it was funny. Supposedly, he was crying for his mom the whole time.”

“Well, his mother just compared me to my mother, and then proceeded to call me stuck up. Can you believe that? I'm nothing like that woman,” you complain. “Just because I didn't want to go out with her little criminal who had to be home by his curfew.” You watch as the two men share a look and break down laughing. “Not funny.”

“A music teacher and a drug dealer,” Yoongi comments, looking impressed. “You are really racking them up, aren't you?”

“What music teacher?” Hobi asked, looking between you and Yoongi. “Why won't you go out with him? Why didn't I know about this?”

“Because I hate men right now, and I don’t want you to encourage me to go out, ” you tell him. “Also, the last thing I want to do is date a coworker. If it were to go bad, I would still have to see him almost every day.”

“Well, darlin, I hate to break it to you, but your options are pretty limited if you truly are staying in our little town,” Yoongi says. “You probably can't afford to be too picky at this point. Soon, the only men available to you will be at the senior center. I hope you like mashed peas.”

“Well, what about you?” You ask him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You were about to lose your patience with this conversation. “I certainly haven't seen anyone at your place. What's your excuse?”

It's true. In the one short week that you have been in your new home, you have picked up on Yoongi's habits pretty easily. His routine was the same every day, never changing, always predictable. His garage door rattles loudly, always waking you up at 4:30 in the morning with his headlights shining into your room not long after. He also doesn't seem to come home until well after sunset. By then, you have settled in front of your tv with your dinner when you see him pull into his garage through your living room window. The only visitors that you have seen over there so far were your mutual friends that come and go whenever they please.

However, you have yet to see a woman show up or come home with him, nor has anyone mentioned Yoongi seeing someone. Your comment makes him smirk at you as he places his hands on his hips. Clearly, he is amused. The smug look on his face makes you rethink everything. Maybe you were wrong, and he does have somebody. The traitorous butterflies in your stomach fall a little bit at the thought.

“Keeping tabs on me?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you. The open mouth smirk he gives you makes your most intimate part clench. She's a traitor, too.

“You wish,” you roll your eyes at him, trying to cover up your embarrassment and arousal. “Your loud ass garage always announces your presence. Why do you have to leave at 4:30 every freaking morning?” Yoongi opens his mouth to probably spit some nonsense at you, but you don't let him. “It doesn't matter. I'm going home to wallow in my misery since the two of you made me feel bad.”

“Don't go,” Hobi says, as Yoongi waves goodbye to you.

“Men!” You exclaim and turn on your heel. You think you need to find new friends.

Kneeling in the green grass of your backyard with your earbuds in your ears, you needed to keep yourself occupied. After storing out of the farmers market, you decided to go home and busy yourself trying out a craft before school on Monday to see just how messy it was. Oobleck, the fun little cornstarch and water concoction was quite fascinating. You can understand why kids love this shit so much. You had several large bowls ready to go so you could mix different colors and dispense them into 18 small containers. One for each child. You wanted your kiddos to get outside and play before the upcoming unpredictable fall weather rolled in. The weather would soon turn cooler, rainier forcing them to be inside more, and you didn't want to rist this craft in the classroom. You carefully measure the cornstarch and dump it into the first bowl. As you grab your pitcher of water, a shadow looms over you, scaring the hell out of you. You whip around, making your earbuds fall out of your ears and consequently dumping water all over yourself with your sudden movement.

“AHH, that's cold,” you squeal, jumping up off the ground and glaring at the man that surprised you.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” Yoongi said, holding his hands up in surrender. He eyed the wetness of your clothes that were now clinging onto your body. You think you saw him quickly wet his lips before averting his eyes quickly.

“What do you want?” You asked, and immediately you cringe at the tone of your voice. You look at him regretfully, softening your tone before bending down and picking up your fallen earbuds. “Did you need something?”

“Hobi and I thought you were joking about leaving, but when we went to the front, you were already gone. He was really worried when we couldn't find you. I was forced to do three laps around the damn place to look for you,” he explains and holds out a decent sized brown paper bag for you to take.“I brought you some apples that we had left over. I shouldn't have teased you like that.”

“No, it's okay. Thank you,” you tell him, taking the bag of apples from him carefully. It was a lot heavier than it looked. You put it down by your feet and kneel back down to your project. “I need to stop being sensitive when it comes to the topic of dating. I'll have to move on eventually or adopt eight cats and live alone for the rest of my life.”

“You're too young to think like that,” he tells you as he towers over your kneeling form as he moves closer, and you try to avoid looking up at him. You could only imagine how that would look.

“Yeah, but the eight cats sound like the better option. I can name them all after sweet snacks. Cupcake, sprinkles, marmalade, he would be orange, …” you say, drifting off with a shrug as you grab your second water pitcher that was thankfully full.

“What are you doing?” He asks, coming to squat down next to you and effectively changing the subject. His swift movement let you catch the scent of his cologne that filled the air around you. Of course, he smelled good.

“Oobleck,” you answer, shaking your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts. “For the kids at school. It will be great for their fine motor skills, straightening their hand muscles, and dexterity. That was a really boring answer, wasn't it?”

“Joon says you're a great teacher,” Yoongi says, and it makes you smile.

“I should hope so,” you comment. “If I wasn't, he probably shouldn't have hired me.”

“Need help?” He asks, looking at the empty bowls.

“You don't have anything better to do?” You ask, looking at him skeptically. “It’s Saturday. No hot date tonight at the senior center to get ready for?”

“Very funny. I'm here, aren't I?” He answers and pulls a couple of bowls close to him.

“Did you just call me your hot date?” You question, teasing him, and you swear you see his face turn a light shade of pink. He must have been out in the sun for too long.

“Shut up. Now you are the one who is wishing,” he says, watching you carefully measure your ingredients. “2 to 1 ratio?”

“Yup,” you answer as you mix the dry and wet ingredients together. “That's a lot of apples to just give me. I can pay you for them.”

“Well, we felt really bad,” he says with a shrug and a shake of his head. Dropping down, he finally sits down next to you. His knee brushes your outer thigh, and it makes your heart pick up just a little. “Hobi said that you could probably bake up some stuff with them. From what I hear, you are a good baker. The guys won't shut up about it.”

“Well, maybe now that we are friends….you might find out,” you tell him, focusing on dropping some food coloring in your concoction. The red swirls around and blends together with the white of the cornstarch effectively, turning it pink as you stir it with a plastic spoon.

“Hopefully,” he said softly.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye and watch him diligently work. It's a nice, comfortable silence that falls between the two of you. You watch as he bites his lower lip in concentration, and it does something to you again. Much like that night, he was playing darts at that dark bar all those years ago. You're not sure what it is, but it certainly makes you feel warm all over.

Damn it.

Apple pie, it was good, but you didn't want to deal with having to make the crust from scratch. Apple pie bars, that one was intriguing, but you didn't have pecans, and you didn't want to go to the store. Apple crisp, one of your favorites, but once again, you didn't have any oats. You think you really need to stock your cupboards with food as your finger scrolls through all the apple desserts you can find on Google. Apple cider donut pound cake, now that sounded like too much work. You sigh. You had to use the apples that Yoongi brought you. You personally don't care for apples on their own, preferring them, then baked with a pound of sugar on them. Needing to make them as unhealthy as possible before you could eat them

Making your way to your kitchen, you open your cupboards and grab the ingredients to your famous bread that you had often made in college. The same bread you never baked for Yoongi. The same bread that your friends munched away at giving you thank yous and hugs in front of said man. You feel like a complete bitch when you think back on the memories. You purposely left him out. You hate people like that, and you hate yourself for being that person at one time. You could blame your young age at the time, but you knew what you were doing. You thought he hated you, and you wanted him to feel bad.

It was your grandmother's recipe that you have memorized by heart, but unfortunately, it's been years since you have made it. Changkyun never liked your bread, your cakes, or any food that you had cooked for him. He would often make you order takeout after you spent time and energy cooking for him. He was able to suck the joy out of something that you loved so much that you just gave up on baking. You had given up on a lot of things. You had given up on yourself and lost who you were.

One thing that made you nervous was that you never added anything to the recipe before. You had always stuck to her white bread. It was simple and easy, always a hit. However, you don't see why you can't cook some apples down, puree them, and throw them into the dough mixture. Will it work? You have no idea, but it won't hurt to try. Grabbing your peeler, you’re ready to go to work.

The red apples were peeled, cut into perfect slices, and currently simmering away on your stove in a large pot. The house was filled with the scent of apples and the little bit of cinnamon that you added for flavor. It smelled divine. It smelled homey. Your kitchen door suddenly opens, and Jimin pokes his head in with a pretty smile on his perfect face. You wave him in as you turn your attention back to your stove.

“It smells good in here,” he comments as he fully steps into the house, closing the door behind him. “What are you making?”

“I'm attempting apple bread,” you tell him as he peeks over your shoulder at the stove. “Yoongi dropped off a bunch of apples for me. I want to get them used before they go bad.”

“Dropped them off…..like….. for free?” He asks suspiciously. “You didn't have to pay for them?

“Yeeeah,” you say slowly.

“He never gives anything away for free. He makes all of us pay full retail price when we want something,” Jimin explains. “I wonder why he gave them to you for free?”

“I don’t know,” you say, turning away from his raised eyebrow. You focus on checking the tenderness of the apples with the sharp knife in your hand. Not quite ready. “I think that he's just trying to be nice.”

“I'm sure,” he says with a tick of his head.

“Do you know something I don't?” You ask with an accusing tone, looking back at him over your shoulder.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “How many are you making?”

“Enough for everyone if it turns out,” you answer. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“I was on my way to Yoongi's. Thought I would stop by to say hi. Also, I heard you were collecting boyfriends left and right. The ladies at the grocery store love talking about you.” Jimin says with a smirk. “It was all they could talk about in the cereal aisle. Which, by the way, is on sale. Two for five dollars.”

“Are you serious?” you ask.

“Yeah, I got two boxes of Cheerios,” Jimin says with a devious smirk. You roll your eyes at him and shake your head. “Hobi told all of us about your boyfriends. I personally one hundred percent agree with you, by the way. You don’t need to date right now, but that doesn't mean you can't sleep around and have your own fun.” He tells you. “You know just…keep it safe.”

“Goodbye Jimin,” you say, walking over and opening the kitchen door for him.

“Fine, fine,” he says, walking out of the house after taking your not so subtle hint for him to leave. You see Yoongi walk out of his house with a bag of garbage clutched in his hand. Jimin makes his way across the driveway and up Yoongi's steps. When he reaches the landing, he turns to look at you with a shit eating grin. “You can always get a Tinder account. I'll take the pictures, wear a low-cut top and a push-up bra. Boob pictures will get more right swipes.”

Yoongi looks between the two of you before you raise your middle finger in goodbye. Jimins laughter is the last thing you hear before you shut and lock your door. Going back to your stove, you check the simmering apples once more as you stab them harshly with the same knife as before. The sharp point pierced the fruit easily. They were ready to mash. Oh boy, mash them you did. Maybe a little too hard, leaving sticky apple splatter everywhere. You will regret it later when you have to clean the residue, but right now, it feels nice to get some aggression out. You felt a small sense of satisfaction as you watched them get flattened, exploding everywhere. It was almost therapeutic. You'll have to do this more often.

After an hour in the oven, the warm bread was perfect. It was soft and chewy on the inside with a slight crispy crust around the golden edges. You are surprised that it actually turned out. You thought for sure that the puree was going to make the dough too wet, but it was perfectly sweet with a hint of cinnamon. Pleasantly, surprised and proud of yourself, you wrapped seven loaves of bread in clear plastic wrap for your friends. Biting your lip, your eyes sneak a peek over at Yoongi's house and see that Jimin's car is gone from the driveway. Grabbing one loaf of bread, you leave your house and head over to Yoongi's to deliver the freshly baked goodness.

You look out past your backyard to the fields on your short trek over to his house. The sunset was beautiful this time of the year as summer was drawing to an end, making way for the fall season. The trees were slowly starting to change colors, indicating that the cooler season was indeed just around the corner. Some trees are even starting to lose their leaves when the breeze hits the branches just right. Causing them to flutter slowly to the ground. Ascending his stairs, you gave a quick knock to his screen door. You slowly rock back and forth on your feet as you wait for him. It didn't take long before he opened the door with a look of surprise.

“Hi,” he said in his signature gravelly voice.

“Hi,” you say back with a slight smile. “I used the apples that you gave me. I made this bread for everyone.” You reach out and hand him the baked bread. He takes it from you and examines it with a questionable stare. “I didn't poison it.”

“What?” he asks, and you feel stupid that you made that joke. “No..I….I'm surprised that you actually made me one, I guess.”

“Well, I did. I told you I would,” you say, and you glance back at sunset, trying to avoid the awkwardness of the conversation. The beautiful colors are not helping you at all. “I guess I should go. I have a sticky mess to clean up. Have a good night, Yoongi.”

“Thanks, you too,” he says. You make your way back across the drive, but his voice stops you when you reach the middle. “You shouldn't use Tinder.”

“What?” You laugh as you turn back to look at him.

“It's dangerous,” he says with a nod. “You shouldn't use it. You never know who is really on the other end of a profile.”

“Okay, yeah,” you say, still amused. “I will be sure to keep that in mind. Goodnight.”

This time, he doesn't say anything back. You smile to yourself as you enter back into your house. This new friendship feels nice. It doesn't feel forced like you thought it would. Once you get past the awkwardness, you’re sure it will feel completely normal. It will almost feel like you have been friends with him all along. Like you can forget the past. For the first time since your truce, you are ready to accept that.

Tagged Readers:

@mar-lo-pap, @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822

#yoongi smut #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #yoongi au #bts smut #yoongi x you #bts yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi #suga bts #bts suga

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wilhelminyard · 3 days ago

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compilation of nice/sweet things the foxes said to neil because even though they're a bunch of assholes who'll insult anyone in their vicinity they all just love him so damn much (part 2) :

ANDREW :

"I'm not here for your entertainment" "but as expected you are talented enough to multitask"

"you are neil josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive. I don't care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don't care if you never use it again. but you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it. on that day you're not going to run. you're going to think about what I promised you and you're going to make the call."

"I'm not afraid of you" "that's why you're so interesting"

DAN :

"don't thank us, remember us. we're your teammates. we're here to help you with whatever you need."

"you've got us now"

"that was perfect. but don't do something that reckless again. we can't replace you. hear me?"

"neil, you can use the girls' shower while we're busy"

MATT :

"just try not to think about it until we get there. you won't do yourself any favorite if you spend the ride stressing out about things you can't change."

"if you don't have anywhere to go, I'll drag you home with me"

KEVIN :

"if you get hurt out there, you do something about it. you take it easy, you have coach pull you, you ask abby for help - I don't care. if you ever say 'I'm fine' about your health again I will make you rue the day you were born"

"neil has no place in riko's games. he is a fox."

"run. it's the only way you'll survive"

"you should be court."

"will you still teach me?" "every night."

"I will watch you. if you want to drink tonight. I won't let you say something you'll regret." "you'll be drunk inside an hour. then who'll stop me?" "I would stop drinking."

"you're not going. do you know what he'll do to you?"

WYMACK :

"why did you pay for stalls coach?" "maybe I knew you'd need them one day"

"neil, if you can't be here say so. abby can take you elsewhere until it's time to leave. get out of here and get some fresh air."

"what can I do?" "I don't know" "when you know, tell me"

"sometimes the world feels so big but then I'm reminded how small it is" "big or small just remember you're not alone in it."

"if riko really was behind it somehow, the blame is all on him. he chose to take out his petty rage on seth. he chose to cross a line. you didn't. you hear me? you didn't. don't ever blame yourself for seth's death. that it too dangerous a road to walk down. you keep your eyes on your own path and keep moving forward"

"neil" "I'm fine" "be fine inside where it's warmer"

"look I know I've always told you all to take your personal problems up with betsy or abby. I've said it's not my place to get into anything outside the court. I hope you've figured out by now I'm just blowing hot air. I'm not real good at being a shoulder, but I do have a working set of ears."

"help me" "let me"

"this doesn't mean anything. I'm still a fox." "of course you are."

NICKY :

"kid you're killing me. why do you always get that deer-in-headlights look when someone does something nice for you?"

"you worry about neil's career. I'll worry about his personal happiness."

"I didn't really get into the gritty details last time because those aren't reallt dan and matt's business, but you're family, so I can tell you."

"there's obsession and there's dysfunction. you can't make exy your end-all be-all. this won't last forever, okay? you'll shine bright, then you'll retire, and then what? you gonna spend the rest of your life at home alone with all your trophies? you can't be just this, neil. this isn't enough to live for."

"thanks for taking one for the team, neil. you're a real friend."

"are we? friends?" "you are going to be the absolute death of me. yeah, kid. we're friends. you're stuck with us, like it or not."

"I only see that look on neil's face when someone tries to do something nice for him, but we all know kevin's as bratty as they come. what did you say, kevin, and do I need to defend neil's honor or what?"

RENEE :

"I am not the girl I once was but the shade of my old life will always existe inside of me. that is what helps me connect with andrew. I am hoping it will help me connect with you."

"I do not know your story. if you've trusted andrew with anything, he hasn't shared the details with me and he never will. but if you are as like us as we first predicted you to be, perhaps one day you can also come to see me as a friend."

"if either andrew or I can help you, please know we are here."

"and you neil? are you all right?"

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #david wymack #kevin day #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #psu foxes #the foxes #the raven king

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freakenomenon · 2 days ago

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wooly crash-outs are so much scarier than amanda crash-outs to me. like genuinely within the context of amandas entire emotional turmoil and what shes been going through for 20+ YEARS stuck with the instincts , emotional coping skills and developmental strengths of a traumatized 8 year old , her getting angry is only scary to me because we know what shes capable of when shes upset. not because she has explicitly malicious intentions. shes a child who doesn't know her own strength.

WOOLY HOWEVER.

almost nothing is confirmed about him, nothing is set and stone with him. and ( at least in the sequel ) even the slightest slip of script , does not sit well with him. not to mention that , while amanda herself openly states that she doesn't find him scary. the ENTITY is scared of an object that merely RESEMBLES him. while i don't think wooly is some big scary bully who is intentionally going out of his way to make himself appear bigger as a defense mechanism like amanda is. one thing i do think is very interesting is the fact that , amanda is never afraid announce her annoyance , frustration and downright RAGE towards the viewer when they fuck with her patience. while wooly , immediately masks his anger the moment it slips out. filtering it, and or channeling it as some kind of "this is whats best for you!" scolding. which is more terrifying to me , simply because. it also seems like he's not used to amanda not listening to him. everytime shes ever truly lashed out at him when hes trying to keep her in line, hes shocked. almost offended. and at the very most. hurt

and we've never seen him GENUINELY fed up until the storytime tape, where he was likely forced to keep it together because there was an audience. or at least someone to call out his bullshit.

something thats also noteworthy is that wooly. is not good at his job. or at least what the majority thinks his job is. hes very obviously there to keep some kind of eye on amanda. but from what it looks like he can't properly put his foot down anymore because his ( and amanda's ) emotions for the past 20 years are all coming to a gruesome bubbly front. hes always had this attitude of genuinely caring for amanda at some points , but also caring way too much about the show for it to actually be helpful. and when all of that frustration comes to a head I DO NOT WANNA BE HERE FOR IT.

holy mother of yap this is long. TLDR ; wooly is a very interesting and dynamic character and you lot would have so much more fun if you actually looked at him from a less black and white perspective and realized he can ..not be a good person while also having motivations and reasons as to why he is the way he is.

#amanda the adventurer #ata 2 #wooly the sheep #amanda the adventurer 2 #wooly ata

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serenity-ren-bliss · 2 days ago

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A single splash of blood can kill an Angel

Fandom: Gladiator II

Prompt(s)/Premise: Emperor Geta x fem!hemophobic!Reader

Translations (Latin):

Carissima = dearest

Amor = love

Mea Columba = my dove

TW: Mention of blood, fainting

____________________________________

When Geta first set eyes on you, a lowly seamstress’s daughter, he knew immediately you had to be his. When you heard of his wish for your hand, you had no choice but too accept. He was the emperor, you found yourself too scared to say no to him.

He moved you into the palace, gave you a room across his for the six months before your wedding. He showered you with gifts; gold and jewels and silks. He spent all of his free time at your side, asking you all kinds of questions, and the two of you quickly grew endeared.

But there was one big secret you kept from him: you are afraid of blood. It’s no secret your soon-to-be husband loved the games, he loved the fighting, the bloodshed, and the violence. He was ruthless like that.

However you hated it all. Even the smell of blood was enough to make you gag. The sight of it? It would make you faint. But you never told him, if you didn’t he would surely scoff in your face and call you pathetic. He would call of the marriage, which as time goes on is becoming a worse and worse fate for you as you grew to love the ruthless king.

You came up with every excuse you could think off to not accompany him to the games. You would tell him you were sick, busy, not feeling it, wanted to sleep in, everything. But now, after five months of this, you’ve run clean out of lies.

So now here you are. Sitting on a golden throne, your emperor to your right, and you could feel the eyes on you, even as the games are about to begin. He could see your trembling and reached out to hold your hand. He didn’t say anything, just held it.

Then the fighting started. It wasn’t too bad at first, there was more yelling then you’re normally comfortable with, but you were okay. Then the first hit was landed. Then the second. The smell of blood permeated the air and dark red liquid spills all over the floors. You feel sick.

Geta doesn’t notice at first, too caught up in the games. Good, you don’t want him too. You don’t want to spoil his fun. You know any minute now he’ll notice. He’ll force you to admit it. And then-

There was a loud scream, accompanied by the loud squelch of a particularly nasty stab. The scent got stronger and then it all went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t know how long you were out. You awoke in a soft bed, something warm wrapped around your hand. As you came too a little more, you recognized your emperor’s face looking up at you.

“Carissima!” He spoke with relief, “Thanks the gods you’re awake!” His free hand went to cup your face, tilting it so you would sit up. “What happened back there?”

“Geta, I…” You were silent for a moment, considering your words. Should you lie? He’d see right through you. “I was just a little sick, Amor. You do not need worry.”

He shook his head. “Do not lie to me, mea columba. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” You looked away, unable to look him in the eye when the words started spilling out of you.

You told him everything. How you fainted because the smell and sight of blood makes you sick, how you didn’t alert him because he was having fun, how you didn’t want to tell him about your fear because you were worried he’d find you pathetic and call off the marriage.

“And I’m sorry that I lied and I tricked you and I understand if you’re mad and if you really want to-“ You were interrupted by a soft hand on your cheek yanking your head to face him. He looked pissed. Not the fiery kind of pissed like he was about to yell at you. His gaze was cold, calculating, and that was so much scarier. You gulped, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Tell me, Carissima, who clothes you in silks and adorned you with gold?”

“Y-you do, my emperor” You barely heard your own voice, shaky and unsure.

“Who brought you to this palace, gave you everything you can ever imagine, made sure you slept on the softest sheets?”

“You did, my emperor”

“Who makes sure you eat the finest, freshes food, whenever you require?”

“You do… my emperor.”

“Then tell me, Amor, why you think so low of me. Why you’d think I’d consider, for a second, leaving you over something so petty.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Geta’s reputation precedes him, but when it comes to how he treats you… he’s rarely that violent.

“I…” He looked at you expectantly. You tried to avoid his gaze. He didn’t like that. “Look at me.” He yelled. You jumped.

“You should not think even for a moment that I’d leave you. For any reason. You are my wife, Columba! Not some girl I keep just because. I’m not going anywhere! Neither are you. Do you understand?!”

You were still trembling from his screaming. He seemed to notice, calming down just a little. He pulled you into a tight embrace. “I’m not leaving you, Mae Columba. I need you to tell me when you’re ill. I am not going to be mad at you. You’re safety is more important than the games. Do you understand?”

You took a deep breath, you’re voice still shaky. “I-I understand.”

He sighs. “We’ll find other things to do. I will not be taking you to the games anymore. You need rest.”

You slumped back on the bed. “Cuddle me?” He chuckled, sitting on the bed and letting you rest your head on his chest.

#emperor geta x reader

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