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catmiemy · 6 months ago

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New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.

A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.

This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!

You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.

How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.

However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?

In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.

Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.

R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.

L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!

You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…

You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.

R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.

With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw? As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.

L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!

Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.

R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!

And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.

Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.

First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.

As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.

You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.

At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.

When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.

This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!

The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.

You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.

Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.

R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!

You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.

---

“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”

Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.

“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.

“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.

“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”

Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.

A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.

It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.

Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.

Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.

Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!

Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.

Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.

It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.

After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.

Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.

So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.

It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.

“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.

“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.

Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.

---

When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.

The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.

However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.

“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.

“Could be worse,” you replied.

Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.

“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.

For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.

“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.

“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.

“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.

“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.

You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.

“A cuddle?”

Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.

It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.

“Why did you sit all the way over there?”

All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.

Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.

“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.

“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.

Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.

Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.

That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.

You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.

In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.

So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.

Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.

Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.

“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.

You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.

Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.

“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.

“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.

“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”

Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.

“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.

You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.

“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.

“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.

“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.

When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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sonicblueartist · 8 months ago

Note

What about a one-shot or just a suggestive story where Shadow takes advantage of y/n?

A/n: I'm probably gonna get all the fans' attention with this one huh? I normally don't write anyone but Tails but I am making an expection for some reason today. Have a good read I guess! Idk why I write what I write today XD Sorry for the long wait.

I left you guys in a cliffhanger. hah! idk if I would continue tho

Masterlist

Pairings: Shadow x Reader

They/them // She/her // He/him // Other

Summery; Eggman made a new weapon out of Shadow. Let's see what it is

Warnings: smut, lemon, suggestive themes, blood, marking, biting, tearing flesh, attempted rape

Word Count: 1371

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

As your eyes flickered over him in fear, you were instantly struck by the sharp and scary aura emanating from his breathtaking violet eyes. Shadow stood before you, his chest heaving rapidly as if he had just completed a long and demanding marathon. His fur was damp, drenched in sweat, and his claws peeked out menacingly from his gloves. His fangs were visible, adding to the unnerving sight that confronted you. But what puzzled you most was the absence of any evidentiary explanation for his condition, except for one haunting phrase that echoed in your mind.

"What do you think is the most natural instinct of an animal, the most wild and scary one?" Eggman's voice resonated in your head, reminding you of his words moments ago. "Their bloodlust? Hunger to stay alive? Maybe. But there is something else that is much *more* dangerous and entertaining. 'The will to do anything to death for their mate.' "

The memory of Eggman's sinister revelation half an hour ago flooded your mind. You hadn't expected this game of catch to turn into something so disturbing. Though you had managed to catch your breath, your heart still raced uncontrollably, struggling to make sense of the unsettling situation unfolding before you.

Your eyes widened in fear as Shadow took deliberate steps toward you, raising the possibility of him falling victim to Eggman's trap, turning against his friends. A sense of terror gripped you, leaving you feeling trapped with no way to escape. Desperately, you scanned your surroundings, searching for an exit, but found nothing. You found yourself backed into a dead end.

"And to mate, of course." Your throat tightened as you heard Eggman's words reverberating in your mind. The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning—Shadow was hungry, thirsty for you. Eggman's twisted plans had successfully turned him, and now the true extent of Shadow' instincts became clear. No, this couldn't be true. Shadow wouldn't do this to you, would he? The shocking dishonor of Eggman's manipulation left you bewildered, unable to fathom the torment inflicted upon your friends.

"C-come on, Shadow. This isn't you," you started nervously, your voice shaking. "We both know that you don't wanna do this. Behave yourself! Think logically, like you always do! We're still in Eggman's base. He's playing with you, with your mind, your instincts! You are the ultimate life form, damn it! You can't just succumb to Eggman like that! There are Badniks running around, and if they find us, we're finished-"

Your plea was interrupted as Shadow forcefully pinned both his hands beside your head, a whimper left your lips in fear. A deep snarl escaping his lips as you attempted to slide away. Trapped between him and the wall, you realized the extent of his transformation. No longer the loyal companion you once knew, he approached you with predatory purpose, garnered by one sole instinct—breeding. You were left with a terrifying decision. Would you become the first to fall at his hands before the Badniks got to you?

After examining his prey's frightened face for a while, Shadow slowly lowered himself, his nose skimming along your neck. His actions mirrored those of a true animal, inhaling your scent as his salivating mouth revealed his primal desire for your presence. The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, intensifying the horrifying nature of the situation.

Attempting to muster the strength to push him away, you fought against his grip, but his strength surpassed anything you could have imagined. Like an iron vice, his grasp held firm, rendering your efforts fruitless. In spite of the predicament you found yourself in, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by Shadow' well-built form, his muscles flexing in the most hypnotic manner.

You quickly shook away such distracting thoughts, forcing yourself to concentrate on finding a way out of this nightmare. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape as Shadow began to suckle at your neck and shoulder, exhaling his hot breath in sporadic bursts. The sounds he made only served to further ignite the blazing heat that reddened your face, flooding you with a mix of desire and terror.

Suppressing a moan, you desperately struggled to redirect your focus, your mind racing for an escape plan. Yet, how could you concentrate on anything other than the overpowering dominance Shadow exhibited? Pressed against the wall by his scorching body, each breath and moan he emitted only served to remind you of the pleasure he was experiencing.

Amidst his sloppy kisses and teasing nibbles, you fought fiercely against the sensations threatening to consume you, trying to maintain your composure. However, as Shadow momentarily eased the pressure of his body against yours, he replaced it with his leg pressed against your groin, effectively preventing any escape. The mix of pain and pleasure elicited a whine from your lips, pushing Shadow to suckle at your shoulder with renewed vigor.

Finally, he got bored and withdrew from his sloppy territory. The room grew suffocatingly silent as he moved his fangs along your throat, gently biting a few places, feeling your heartbeat increasing. He licked his lips and shifted his attention to your other shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses and sucking hungrily, leaving little marks. But it seemed like that wasn't enough for him anymore; he growled, as if yearning for something more primal.

With his fingers deeply entwined in your hair, he pulled, causing you to gasp, displaying your neck like a plate of meal to him. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, his fangs piercing through your skin. Tears slipped from your eyes as you cried out in pain. He let your arms go and held you tightly from your waist, as you gripped his back for support. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth, and unwillingly scratched his back in pain. It felt as though his teeth were digging deeper into your shoulder, testing your limits.

Shadow let out a pleasured sigh through his nose, not yet satisfied. He continued biting harder than before, his eyes closed as he let out an animalistic growl. The realization that he could break your neck in half if he wanted sent a shiver through your spine. He sucked your blood with such thirst leaving you weak as you sobbed silently, drinking and swallowing it all as if he hadn't had a drop in weeks.

Before things grew any wilder, he pulled back, a string of blood and saliva still connecting the two of you. Panting for air, he tried to lick all the blood flowing from his mouth with his tongue, his breath hot against your face. Your blood flowed from your shoulder to your chest.

Satisfied with the mark he left on you, Shadow now went for your lips. Gripping your form, he forced his lips onto yours, connecting them. You hesitated, not wanting to taste the disgusting blend of your blood and his saliva. He pulled your hair once again, and when you whimpered in pain, he immediately seized the opportunity and engaged in a fierce kiss, taking your breath away.

Your heart raced as his hand wandered across your body in a manner both unnerving and inquisitive. He marked his territory, staking claim to every inch of your being. Your mind battled to comprehend the situation, as your body responded to his predatory touch.

Fighting the rising panic, you summoned your inner strength you managed to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt to distract him. As your lips collided in a feverish kiss, you hoped to manipulate the situation to your advantage.

To your surprise, he welcomed your advances. He tilted his head, letting out a low, carnal moan. Sensing that this could be your one chance to regain control, you decided to play along. You pushed aside your feelings of self-disgust and harnessed your newfound determination.

As you passionately kissed, your mind churned, searching for an escape plan. With each stolen moment, you became acutely aware of his animalistic nature, his primal desires, and his desperate need to assert dominance. Yet, instead of submitting to the imminent danger, an idea began to form in your mind.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic characters #allenwrites #sonic #shadow x reader #shadow #shadow the ultimate lifeform #shadow the hedgehog #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedghog fanart #shadow the hedgehog x reader

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forlix · 1 year ago

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞・l.f.

— felix misses you a little extra tonight; good thing you're way ahead of him.

words・1.7k pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader warnings・brief mentions of the ocean, drowning imagery genres・fluff, angst, established relationship, pining, hurt/comfort, lots of (happy) tears

a/n・i had exo's "been through" on repeat while writing this; pls give it a listen it's beautiful and so underrated and captures the fic perfectly. enjoy <3

When Felix steps into Tokyo's night air, he can still hear the remnants of tonight's concert in the distance, the occasional car horn and the low thrum of conversation floating over the dome of the stadium. But for the most part, it is quiet, and Felix is finally able to think.

He thinks about how he's happiest after performances: leftover adrenaline warming his skin, strobe lights still dancing across his vision, heartbeat still drumming against his ribs like the heavy bass that shook the stage prior. He thinks about how much he loves leaving each venue knowing that, even if only for a few hours, he owned the place; set it utterly ablaze.

But he mostly thinks about you.

From the moment Felix started loving you, his happiness became yours. A bite of brownie fresh out of the oven, met with widened eyes and a delighted mmm; every funny story relayed to you later that night (poorly, because he keeps interrupting himself to laugh); photographs, so many photographs—an especially rotund pigeon he spots on the way to practice, a new pair of earrings that’s way too expensive but looks way too good on him, cute texts from his mom—inevitably making their way into your camera roll.

He can’t help it. He only wants to experience the best parts of the world with you by his side.

So it is in his happiest moments that he feels your absence the strongest. And now, Felix so badly wishes you were here that he physically aches. It feels a bit like his heart is being swallowed by seawater, nothing in any direction for miles, nowhere to go but down.

Only when Chan materializes next to him does Felix manage to steady his feet on the cement once again.

“It’s not here yet?” Chan surveys the lot for their tour bus, to no avail. “Good thing, I guess. Everyone's taking their sweet time.”

The older boy gives Felix a glance thoughtlessly, looks away, and then looks back, his gaze lingering on the side of his face for longer this time, and Felix knows that Chan knows exactly what’s going through his head. For a second, Chan seems like he wants to say something, but Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, takes out his phone.

Not now.

“I think I left something inside,” Chan says instead, though he never leaves anything anywhere. Felix manages an appreciative smile. Without another word, Chan claps a hand to Felix’s shoulder and disappears back into the building, as quickly as he came.

A few seconds pass. Then, as naturally as if by muscle memory, Felix taps on your contact and holds his phone to his ear.

It rings once, twice, thrice—and then he hears your voice, but not in the way he yearns for.

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N! I’m unable to come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I'll get back—”

He ends the call, his brow furrowed. You knew he had a concert today. And you should've known to anticipate the call that would come right after, as faithfully as the sun’s rise and fall.

He calls a second time, hoping this was an obstruction of ‘do not disturb’ and nothing more, but is met with the voice message again.

The call of the ocean's depths becomes louder.

As he sits through the automated response, Felix leans against the wall behind him and tilts his head back against the plaster, his gaze moving over the night sky. Then, he hears the beep, and starts to speak.

“Hi, my love. I called, and you didn’t pick up, and I got worried. Is everything alright? Maybe you’re busy, or asleep? Remember to take care of yourself first and foremost—everything else pales in comparison. Everything."

His voice feels far steadier than he feels.

“Ah, I miss you, darling. The concert went super well; the energy was unreal. We have a few hours to explore Tokyo tomorrow before heading to our next stop, and I’m excited as hell, but I wish you could be here more than anything in the world. I haven’t stopped thinking about how much you’ve always wanted to visit this city since we got here—Seungmin even said he'd save his visit to the Pokemon Center for whenever we come back with you. All of us are thinking of you, babe. Me especially. Me hopelessly.

"One day, you and I are gonna travel the world together, responsibilities and schedules be damned, and we'll spend as long as you want wherever you want. As long as I can be next to you. God, I fucking miss you. I said that already, right?”

A short distance away, the building door opens again, and Felix quickly ducks his head out of view, suddenly conscious of his watery eyes and blurring vision.

“I gotta go. I think the members are ready to go back to the hotel. Call me back when you get a chance, okay?”

The next words catch in Felix’s throat, and he has to wince and take a long, shaky breath in order to get them out.

“I love you to the ends of the universe, angel. Share some of your light with the moon tonight, yeah?” He presses a kiss to the receiver. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Bye.”

With that, Felix hangs up, drops his phone into his pocket, and presses both sleeves tightly against his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

No, he thinks, shoulders quivering with the effort, it really never gets easier.

It takes a while for it to strike Felix as odd that it’s still quiet outside; he could’ve sworn that he heard the door open and close, that he should be hearing the tired chatter of his members by now. Apprehensively (obliviously), Felix lifts his face from his hands and turns around.

Chan, so solemn and quiet before, now wears a Cheshire grin that instantly devolves into a breathy laugh when he meets Felix’s eye. Hyunjin stands behind Chan, holding his phone up, evidently filming. Felix’s lips part in confusion, a question forming on the tip of his tongue. There are enough videos of me crying my eyes out on the internet, no?

But then his eyes fall on the person standing in between the two men, their arms piled so high with flower bouquets that their face is almost concealed entirely, and he forgets what he wanted to say; he forgets every language he knows.

“So we were contacted by a fan the other day,” Hyunjin says, beaming. “Kept calling you their boyfriend. Forced us to fly them out to Japan and everything.”

“It'd be real bad if we got the wrong person,” Chan adds, and a stifled laugh comes from behind the petals—one that Felix would recognize in every corner of the world, in every lifetime. “They look familiar?”

The bouquets part, and behind them you appear, cheeks visibly flushed even under the lot’s singular streetlight, smile so bright that it’s turned your eyes to crescent moons.

"Surprise," you say softly.

The empty lot finally erupts into laughter, Chan and Hyunjin no longer able to restrain themselves. Can't believe we pulled this off, they're saying to each other triumphantly, but everyone, everything around Felix vanishes save for the person he adores most in the world, holding more flowers than they should be able to carry, looking at him as if he's made of pure starlight.

And Felix's heart starts kicking upwards, towards the rays of moonlight filtering through the murky water, as fervently as if his life depends on it—and, in this moment, it does.

“Hand 'em over, fool,” Chan says to you. And as you start transferring the heaps of flowers into the leader’s arms, Felix has never moved faster in his life.

In the span of a few seconds, his hand finds the small of your back, and yours the nape of his neck. “Holy fuck,” Felix whispers, and then he’s pulling you against his chest tightly, desperately. There is no word that can describe the way you melt into one another except for destiny, one of your hands curling in his hair and the other running over his shoulder; his face burrowing in the crook of your neck, fingers lacing together against your spine.

His pulse is so loud that he hears it in all directions, in all parts of him. Felix squeezes his eyes shut against the material of your crewneck, his whole body shaking with silent sobs as the overwhelming array of emotions he'd harbored prior finally spills over. And he stops thinking entirely, simply loses himself in all that you are: the smell of your laundry detergent, the sound of your laugh, the feel of your embrace, so secure and warm as if promising him you’ll never let go.

“I love you, Lee Yongbok,” you murmur, the words only for the two of you to hear.

With the sound of his full name, Felix's heart breaks through the ocean's surface at last. Not only that; it performs a triple axel on the shoreline, and it sure as hell doesn’t stick the landing, slipping and sliding and fighting to regain its balance as you continue on.

“Forget the ends of the universe. You are the universe. You are everything that has ever existed and everything that ever will. And I couldn’t bear to be away from my galaxy for a second longer.”

Felix shakes his head from where it remains buried against you, his voice a broken rasp when he answers, “I’m not whole without you, angel. I never will be again.”

“I'm here, baby,” you reply, your hands tightening around his hoodie, among his long locks. “Whether I'm right next to you or on the other side of the world, I'm always with you. And I will be tomorrow, and the day after, and eons from now. That—”

Your lips find the shell of his ear, then his temple.

“—is a promise, my sunlight.”

Chan is standing with bundles of flowers still piled high in his arms, silent tears streaming down his face, and Hyunjin’s expression is contorted into a terribly suppressed weep, his still-recording phone long forgotten in his pocket. They don't have it in them to tell you to get a room. Not right now.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee felix imagines #lee felix fluff #felix imagines #felix fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #*minific #lee felix angst #*writing #:'''''')#hahahahaha i am so in love

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quinngefail · 3 months ago

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Comic and short story below the cut !! It ended up being longer than anticipated so. Under the cut it goes 😤

First time posting a piece of writing for these two as well..., I hope you enjoy :)

"May I take your coat, sir?"

It was a question asked through a goofy smile, and a 'fancy' tone that carried more than just a little bit of exaggeration; both very deliberate on Adam's part. It's not that he didn't like performing these sorts of 'cheesy' romantic gestures, but he couldn't exactly ignore the way a particular sort of embarrassment would take hold of him during said gestures... Embarrassment that sat within him, screaming about how 'damn corny' he was acting right now. So, this was his working method of combating those less than pleasant feelings: play up the theatrics, put on a silly voice, make it into a whole bit. Things like that.

It really only worked so well. But, it was better than nothing.

However, and far more importantly, these were romantic gestures for Lawrence. And Adam was more than willing to put up with his bouts of trivial embarrassment for Lawrence... A fact that was further solidified as an appreciative smile spread across the older man's face, and he began to remove his coat. Adam moved closer to help, of course, proper gentleman he was, and all that- and in no time at all, the coat was hanging in his grip.

"So courteous," Lawrence lightly teased, still wearing that heart-melting smile of his, as he turned to face Adam.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm just doing so you feel compelled to make me something extra good for dinner tonight." Adam shot back, holding his eyes shut as a cocky grin spread across his face.

Lawrence gave a scoff, and a playful roll of his eyes. "And here I am, the fool who falls for it every single time." He holds his feigned look of utter defeat for a few moments longer, before returning to a genuine smile. He then leans in, placing a small kiss on his partner's forehead. "I'll go see what I can do for us." He murmurs, breaking away and turning to the direction of the kitchen.

Adam watches him disappear around the corner, unable to keep anything but adoration in his face. After Lawrence is out of sight, he turns his attention back to the coat in his hands. Without really even consciously deciding to do so, he gives it a few shakes as he moves to face the nearby hangers.

But then, there's a dull thud as something hits the ground. Adam’s gaze turns to the source, easily locating Lawrence’s fallen wallet.

Mild frustration brewing, Adam folds the coat over his left arm before bending over to snatch up the wallet. Returning to his full height, he absentmindedly flips the wallet over, intending to close and put it back in the coat's inner pocket.

And that was indeed the plan, but...

...

He really doesn't know how long he stands there, just staring at what was before him. He doesn't even notice Lawrence reappearing, poking out from behind the wall.

Heart racing, Lawrence approaches as fast as he can, putting his free hand on Adam's shoulder, trying to figure out what was going on, what was causing such a distressing reaction from the man he cared so deeply for-

But it doesn't take much detective work at all to put two and two together, as his eyes fall to what was in Adam's hand.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Lawrence leans back a bit. "Shit, I'm sorry, I kept meaning to show that to you-" he mutters before leaning forward, eyes open once more. He holds out a concerned hand, unsure now if he should or shouldn't offer his touch in this moment. "Look, um- I should have asked you about it first, and if it makes you uncomfortable, or if it feels like I'm moving things along too quickly, I can take it out-"

"N-no, no- it's not that," Adam interrupts him, giving a quick wipe to his eyes. "It's fine, really- it's just... I don't know, I guess I just never thought I'd ever be in anyone's wallet, is all," he ends with a small shrug and a diminished voice, his gaze falling away from Lawrence's... A silence hanging in the air.

"Well," Lawrence speaks, "I didn't just put it in there for no reason," he smiles gently, moving to stand behind Adam, leaving little distance between their bodies as he fondly looks down at the picture. "It's a photo that I really, truly love, just like I really, truly love you. And I'm happy to have it with me, just like I'm happy to have you with me."

As has often been the case lately, Adam doesn't know what to say. He stares at the photo for a little while longer, before finally giving a small, genuine "thank you,"

Lawrence hums in response. "Of course,"

They remain like this, just existing together... Letting their words sink in, and letting this moment linger.

"...I don't know if this picture really shows my good side, though." Adam remarks, being the first to break the silence, as was fully expected- a wry little smile cracking.

"And there he is," Lawrence gives another playful roll of his eyes, shaking his head a bit.

"No, seriously- this is what you want to carry around with you? This picture of you, sitting next to this ugly ass gremlin, who could look so much better if you just captured his good side?"

"I'm going back to the kitchen now," Lawrence pulls away, continuing to shake his head as he walks off.

"Good- because we do not want to see what happens if we feed my ass after midnight," Adam replies with a grin, sliding the wallet back into the coat pocket, finally hanging it up. "Really, Lawrence- I can go get my camera right now and we can fix this horrific situation- you can even wear that tie of yours, and I won't complain... Much,"

With that, he follows after Lawrence... Fully prepared to keep this going for a few hours longer at least.

And really, neither of them would have wanted it any other way.

#digital #writing #saw #sawposting #saw franchise #sawtism #saw 2004 #chainshipping #lawrence gordon #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight #diana gordon #saw fanart #saw fanfic #comic

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year ago

Text

about u | jjk

❝ this song is about a love that you can’t reconcile—wanting to make a home out of a person that has proved to you time and again that they are not a home; they are just a person. it’s about retracing scars, negative patterns, all with the silent belief that moments of communion and understanding might justify months of misfiring and regret. we’re all just trying to get back to that ‘first high’ feeling—an honest endeavor, however futile. ❞

✤ PAIRING jungkook x f. reader ✤ GENRE exes to fwb to strangers, college/grad school au; angst, smut ✤ RATING explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ WARNINGS toxic & self-destructive behavior (inc. jealousy and possessiveness). infidelity (with an external partner). reader is bisexual (which is not a warning but a general statement so the homophobes stay away) and there is a brief mention of coming out. two people who are both too honest and unable to communicate. swearing. cigarettes and alcohol use. kissing, some spitting, fingering, oral sex, protected vaginal sex. every time i asked jess to read this over for me she always came back with "jfc jewel" so i guess this is angsty. unhappy ending. ✤ WORDCOUNT 7.3k ✤ LISTEN TO this was based off of "winterbreak" by muna, but there are bits and pieces of the entire about u album in here, "everything" and "outro" especially. ✤ THANK YOU to muna for writing the album, @the-boy-meets-evil and @hot-soop for reading over this for me multiple times and putting up with all my brainstorming and my beloved @here2bbtstrash for the extra set of eyes. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi, thank you for reading! i cannot emphasize enough how much more sense this story will make if you listen to about u in the background. i would also like to reiterate that these two are maybe not all that likeable most of the time, but i hope they're still human. as i once saw in an ao3 tag, you are more than the worst thing you've ever done.

[ the first. ] You’d read an article once—something about the second time you fall in love.

It’s going to feel different, it’d said. The first time felt like a dream.

As you stare across the kitchen at Jeongguk, you think that might be true. The part about it feeling like a dream, because it used to be a pinky-lavender haze and everything that has come after hasn’t felt so good. Not a nightmare, but close. At least with nightmares you can force yourself awake. You can tell yourself it wasn’t real. You can pretend.

This is as real as it gets, watching him smile over the rim of a plastic red cup. Someone else’s hand on his arm. The girl it belongs to looks nothing like you, and you wonder if she’ll be the second time he falls in love. You also wonder why you didn’t stay home. You wonder about fault and regret and if either of them even matter. No, you eventually decide: there’s just you in Taehyung’s kitchen and Jeongguk on the other side of it and the result of a million decisions in between you.

There had been a plenitude of reasons you’d fallen in love with Jeongguk, but he’s undoubtedly beautiful. Soft, tinkling laugh; a smile that reaches his eyes. Not all that long ago you used to be responsible for both, so there’s a lingering, bitter sting beneath your wonder. Jeongguk is beautiful and no longer yours, and that’s enough to have you retreating to the living room.

Jimin’s at your side immediately. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of your head that does little to alleviate your guilt. Missing someone is always easier with thousands of miles in between you. All those distractions. Just like a nightmare, distance lets you pretend. Not so easy to do when all those ghosts come back to haunt you; when you can still hear Jeongguk’s soft voice in the kitchen. The music is so loud but you’d be able to hear him anywhere, you think.

Even places he’s not.

Jimin leans down, forces his way into your personal space. “Are you doing okay?” he asks, and his words are warm and wrapped in alcohol, but you nod. You’re scared you might start crying if you open your mouth. Afraid of what might come out besides shuddering breaths, which just makes you feel stupid. Baby’s first breakup, you chide yourself. Maybe Jimin can get you a commemorative ornament.

Taehyung is turning twenty-four and it should be joyous. It is joyous. People that aren’t you are laughing and dancing and pressing their cheeks together as they huddle close to take selfies. Someone you don’t recognize is cackling wildly as they wrangle Taehyung into a headlock and smear cake frosting on his face. Someone else is tutting and running a rag under the tap to wipe it off and then the frosting is gone. It’s hard not to draw parallels.

There one minute and gone the next.

Gently wiped away.

But the feeling lingers, doesn’t it? The tack of the frosting, all the love that transpired between you and Jeongguk. Sometimes you fear it’s permanent—not able to be wiped away with a rag run under the tap, not able to be wiped away at all. Just this burden you’re cursed to carry, because Jeongguk isn’t and can’t be yours but knowing does nothing to erase the past. Doesn’t help you forget. It’s fucked and it’s unfair, but that’s just the way it goes.

“I think I should leave,” you say, watching another scene play out in the kitchen. Jeongguk fills a cup and hands it to a different pretty girl. Everyone here is so pretty. Makes sense; so is Taehyung. Pretty people are drawn to one another like that. “Is it too soon? Will it be obvious?”

Jimin sighs, wraps you in a hug. Says, “Oh, love,” in a way that’s too sympathetic. Makes you sound too pathetic. “No one will blame you. These things are hard.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Not that you don’t appreciate Jimin’s reassurance, but sometimes it all feels a bit silly. Weren’t you the one to walk away? Call it off? Are you allowed to mourn the very thing you destroyed?

And Jimin, bless him, is so patient with you. Asks if you need a ride home and you wave him off, remind him your parents’ place isn’t far, that the cold might do you some good. You tell him you appreciate him and his night shouldn’t be ruined on your account, and you just laugh when he tries to protest, tell him to go get himself another drink.

“Text me when you get home,” he says, voice stern, and you brush that off, too. “I’m serious. It’s late and it’s dark and anyone could be out there—”

“Maybe I should walk you home, then?”

All those articles you read about the second time you fall in love didn’t mention this. Said nothing about the way a voice will always be able to turn your world on its axis and how to right it again. Said nothing about how to coexist with ghosts. Said nothing about what to do with all the yearning and the pain and the stupid, selfish strands of hope. There are paragraphs about an overarching, general grief, but nothing about the specific one living inside of you.

The shock on Jimin’s face is reflecting your own. It’s nice to not be the only one caught off-guard and stammering over their words. It’s nice to have a friend when it feels like your entire world is on the edge of collapse. “I don’t…” he begins. Swallows thickly and turns to look at you, an obvious question biting at the back of his teeth.

You know the answer.

You know that what you should say isn’t what you want, just like you know it isn’t fair, this thing you’re doing. Because you turn to Jeongguk and say, “Are you sure?” which might as well be a yes, because you’re selfish and suspended in this liminal space and don’t want him to go home with anyone else. You don’t want him to move on.

He shrugs. “It’s on the way.”

You say okay. Let Jimin help you into your coat, hide his face in your neck as he tells you to be careful, and that stings. You’ve never had to be careful around Jeongguk before. The two of you never, ever hurt one another—until you did. The kind of hurt your heart hasn’t easily forgotten, is still stubbornly clinging to.

Your heart wants Jeongguk, always.

You want Jeongguk, always, so you let him grab your hand, link your pinkies together. You let him lead you out of the house and don’t turn back to see who might be watching. God, you want to, though. Want all those pretty girls to see that he’s leaving with you. Want them to know it’s your name that’s branded on his heart; your name beneath his skin. For once, you want someone to want what you have.

It’s strange. The two of you have been apart for eight months, and there’s a lot of things you might want to tell someone in that amount of time, but you find it hard now. Don’t know where to start, which words to use. Don’t want to say something stupid, because Jeongguk is just walking you home but you’ve assigned a lot of meaning to it, and eight months is a long time to yearn for something and finally get it.

So you say, “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” because it’s something that’s true and easy to say.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away. Drops your pinky so he can hold your hand properly—fully, all five fingers intertwined—and squeezes. “Is it weird for you?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound nervous. Almost sounds like he’s smiling a little, giving you shit. He sounds familiar.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.” He asks why? at the same time he passes under a streetlight. Lights up golden and amber. He’s beautiful—“I don’t know. It’s just… I guess it’s just been a long time. We didn’t leave things the best.”—and no longer yours.

The Jeongguk walking beside you is not the same Jeongguk that walked out of your dorm eight months ago, tears staining his cheeks, the smell of a goodbye fuck still clinging to his clothes, his skin, sweat still dotting his hairline. This Jeongguk is sharper, more selfish with his laughter, and you wonder about all the ways heartbreak can change a person. How you’re changed for facilitating it. You wonder if Jeongguk blames you before deciding you’re too much of a coward to find out the answer.

“Was it that bad?” When you look over at him, he’s chewing on his lip ring, trying to bite back a smile. “You’ll have to remind me. I don’t remember.”

You stop walking, jerking forward when Jeongguk is left unaware and keeps going. “That’s not funny,” you say. “Jeongguk, that’s not—I did what I thought was best, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing—”

The smile drops from Jeongguk’s face. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says, and he’s hesitant to reach out and touch you but he does it anyway. Cups your face in both hands. “I know, it’s okay. That’s just—it’s just life, right? You did what you had to do, babe. It’s okay.”

You did what you had to do, babe.

Did you?

Jeongguk is selfish with his laughter but never his affection, and knowing that feels like an albatross around your neck. You have broken him so entirely, but he’s still kind to you, finds it a worthwhile thing to be.

His eyes go to your lips. Tattooed fingers dimple your face just a little more, dig in deeper. When you dare to take him in, he looks… different. No longer amused, the way he was just seconds ago; now, there’s something dark there. Longing, anger, hunger. Jeongguk looks like he wants to swallow you whole and make you suffer; looks like he wants to cage you beneath him and worship you through the comedown.

I’d let him, you think as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. As you smell the smoke that lingers, the sweat and the alcohol. I’d still let him.

It’d be so easy to press a kiss there. To feel his skin beneath your lips: flushed, still warm from the party, not all daunted by the bitter winter wind biting at your cheeks. As you lean in further, you wonder if it’ll taste the same. You wonder how much can change in eight months and if all those old comforts change, too. If it’s something inevitable.

Jeongguk moves his hands to your waist. Crawls his fingertips beneath your jacket and finds bare skin. Sucks in the smallest bit of air, and you would’ve missed it had it been any other time, but winter is always quiet and subdued. Always smells transitional, something dangerously close to hope and redemption.

And eight months is a long time to miss the feel of someone’s lips, isn’t it, so you think you can be excused for reaching for something you thought you’d never have again.

The first kiss is hesitant, testing; pressed to the spot just beneath his ear. Maybe you don’t know this Jeongguk, but you know the version of him you used to love—the one you still do—and you know the way he’ll sigh. You know the way his hands will grip tighter. You can still hear it, the way you used to kiss him there and he’d say, don’t start something you can’t finish, baby, and the way you’d laugh and always, always finish it. Can still feel the warmth that used to bloom in your chest. The love.

Jeongguk won’t say that now, you know. Wonder if it’d sound more like don’t start something you already finished if he did. He huffs a small laugh, more an exhale than anything, and asks, “What are you doing?”

And you answer, “I don’t know,” because it’s honest. You admit, “I guess I just miss you,” because it’s true.

A war wages within Jeongguk. You can see the storms, the white flags that are close to being thrown out. Can see the way his gaze flits between your lips and your eyes. What he’s looking for, you don’t know, but the storm rages on. And just like real life, just when you think it’s at its worst, there’s a break in the clouds: a tangible beam of silvery-warm light when Jeongguk tangles his hands in your hair, thumbs at the hinge of your jaw. Jeongguk tilts your head back and looks ethereal in the amber glow of the streetlights.

He says, “We shouldn’t,” and you nod, because you know and the anguish on his face is surely mirrored on yours, but when he follows it with, “let me take you home, let me take care of you,” you find it impossible to care.

You nod.

Everything is amber.

Eight months is a long time to go without the way Jeongguk kisses you: intentionally, demandingly, insatiably. He still tastes the same. Tastes like the first time you’d ever dared to kiss him, back at that party freshman year, tongue flavored with cheap liquor. Jeongguk tastes forbidden and feels like coming home.

You couldn’t say how you make it to Jeongguk’s apartment, but the way you stumble over the threshold feels familiar. The way the door is barely locked when Jeongguk crowds your space; picks you up, wraps your legs around his waist, presses you against it, hips moving on their own accord, rutting, all those little sounds spilling from his lips—everything is familiar. This is not just a practiced song and dance but something memorized. Something instinctual. You could be apart from Jeongguk for years instead of months and your body would still know what to do.

He carries you to his bedroom and you don’t think about who else has been between his sheets, because he puts you down so gently. Kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck—all gentle, powder-soft. Sounds like spring when you paw at the velvety cashmere of his sweater, pull it over his head, and he sighs. Feels like he’s breathing fresh life into something he shouldn’t, something long dead, but then you skim along his warm skin and your world is reduced to the way it feels like silk beneath your fingertips.

“I still love you,” Jeongguk whispers against your mouth, his inked fingers toying with the button on your jeans. Pops it open, pulls the denim down your thighs. Doesn’t bother pulling them off, only goes as far as your knees. And it’s uncomfortable, the way it’s bunched there, but the way Jeongguk says, “Fuck, missed you so much,” is so sweet.

Everything happens too fast.

Jeongguk leaves your shirt on. Drags it up and over your breasts and kisses at the newly-exposed skin. Sinks his teeth in, lets it hurt for a second before he laves over the marks. Settles between your legs and coaxes an orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Speaks his praise into the juncture of your thigh, breathless as he touches himself, strokes his cock with the wetness lingering on his fingers. Looks so, so pretty when he sits back on his haunches and says, “Just wanna look at you,” and makes it sound wistful and longing.

Makes it sound like it means something.

He’s still touching himself, still slicking himself up. There’s a split second where he goes to move and thinks better of it. Looks to the side before looking back at you. The storm kicks up again. “Have—” he begins before he swallows thickly. Dares to look hopeful, even through the squall. “Have you been with anyone else? Since…?”

You haven’t. Tried to, once—another stupid party, more cheap liquor passed to your mouth from someone else’s, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. They hadn’t tasted like Jeongguk; hadn’t felt the same. Two puzzle pieces that fit together all wrong.

Jeongguk has, though. Something you’d heard from a friend of a friend that you weren’t meant to. They’d called it a rebound, and it had bloomed so many ugly thoughts in your head. Five months had passed. Jeongguk was fucking someone else in his bed while you were in yours, torturing yourself over whether or not to tell him happy birthday. Whether it was allowed to or not, it’d stung.

(You had. You’d reworded the text a million times, plucked up all the courage you could find before you sent it. It’d gone unanswered, just like you expected it would, and you thought it was because Jeongguk didn’t want to talk to you. Thought you were digging your fingers into wounds that had yet to heal, so it’d stung but you understood.

But Jeongguk hadn’t answered because he was fucking someone else. Had someone else’s taste on his tongue; was panting someone else’s name into the dark. The embarrassment had been the worst part.)

Still does, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you lie. “I—yeah,” you answer. “Just one.”

Looks like it stings Jeongguk, too. “Right,” he responds, blinking back tears, and he’s got a lot of nerve, you think. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just—a condom. Are you…”

“Jeongguk—”

“Are you sure? Maybe this isn’t…” He huffs. Drops the condom on the bed, hangs his head. “What are we doing?”

You stare up at the ceiling. Nothing up there but the swirls in the plaster. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Hurting each other, probably.”

Jeongguk walks his fingers down your thigh. Grips at your skin, wants it to bruise. Wants you to have something to remember him by come morning. “Sometimes I’m really mad at you, you know?”

“Yeah, trust me, I know.”

He nods. Refuses to look you in the eye now that you’re watching him. “I still love you so fucking much and I’m still so angry. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I… fuck, I thought I was over it. I thought I’d see you and not feel a fucking thing.” There’s fresh ink on the back of his left hand. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but you notice it now, when he runs his hands down his face.

You also notice the way the atmosphere shifts, the split second in which his heartache bleeds into something else—resolve, maybe. Obstinacy. Like he knows how this is going to end and he’s going to do it anyway. He’s going to find the most painful part and press on it, dig his fingers in, and it’s just an inevitable, foregone thing. Something he can prevent and something he’s choosing not to.

“You fucked someone else,” he sneers. Rips the foil open with his teeth, flashing too white in the dark of his bedroom. Rolls the condom on like it’s an inconvenience. Like you’re an inconvenience. “Was it good? Was it worth it?”

You roll your eyes. Feel the way your breath catches in your throat, because you’re not going to cry. Jeongguk fucked someone else and is vilifying you and it’s hypocritical and ugly and unfair, but you’re not going to cry over it. You’re going to press the gas pedal as far as it can go, say, “Yeah, it was,” and find some wicked delight in the way his eyes squeeze shut, as if it can spare him from the pain.

The two of you used to love each other. Jeongguk used to smile down at you when you were naked beneath him like this. Used to lean in close and whisper that he loved you just as he pushed inside even though you knew, you could feel it in everything he did. Now, there’s no smile. Now, he leans down and spits on your pussy and pushes inside and doesn’t tell you a goddamn thing.

Not with words, anyway.

Because the way he fucks you says it all. Impersonal, desperate, bitter. He grips your hips and fucks into you frenzied and fast. Takes your hand and puts it on your clit and tells you to get yourself off. An inconvenience. Tells you he misses your tight cunt, tells you he misses the way it milks his cock, tells you he misses watching the way you come undone underneath him, but he doesn’t tell you he misses you.

There’s a moment, just after he spills into the condom and stays inside, just catching his breath, when you think he might say it. Might tell you he loves you around the lump in his throat, might apologize, might ask if you two can’t figure it out.

There’s only a moment.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. Lets the moment pass. Pulls out and ties off the condom and wordlessly gets up to throw it away. It’s the silence that pisses you off. The disregard. Jeongguk hates you for something you’d lied about doing that he’d done for real, so you can be wordless, too. You can treat him like an inconvenient, cheap fuck, too. You can get up and find your clothes and pull them on and let him watch, words biting at the back of his teeth, and you can tell yourself to feel nothing.

You can say, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” and not shy away from the resentment in your voice, because it’s properly placed. “You fucked someone else, too, so you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, Jeongguk.”

Eight months is a long time to miss someone, to play at daydreams. To think of all the things you want to say, the things you’ll do. In not one of them did you think about this: you, fully dressed and stinking of sex, saying, “It’s late. I’ll show myself out.”

Jeongguk, tears glistening on his cheeks, saying, “No, let me—baby, I’m sorry, please—I’ll drive you.”

A shake of your head. Jeongguk doesn’t push it.

Roll credits.

[ the second. ] Jimin wants to talk your ear off about it—the girl you’re seeing.

It’s new and there isn’t much to say. You tell him the two of you met at one of the student showcases put on by the art department and leave off the part about all of Jeongguk’s old friends being there, that he would’ve participated, too, if he hadn’t dropped out after you broke his heart. Leave off the part where you would’ve been there to support him instead, in another life. Leave off the part where it’d just been morbid curiosity: you, not an art student, wandering those halls to see if Jeongguk’s photographs were still framed on the wall.

“Is she nice?” Jimin asks, head nearly knocking into yours as someone shoves by him. “Fucking asshole.”

You nod. “Why would I date someone that wasn’t nice?”

Jimin, perpetually unbothered until he decidedly isn’t, sends you a look that he hides behind the rim of his cup. “Because you’re in your self-destruction era and aren’t thinking clearly.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You know I’m happy if you’re happy, but…” He pauses as he trails off. Tries to wrap his words in something delicate. “It’s pretty clear you still aren’t over it. That’s all.”

You snort. “That’s all?” you repeat, like it’s some small thing. Like it’s normal and fine.

“I’m sure it’s easier to pretend when the two of you are thousands of miles apart,” Jimin amends, and he must see how you bristle, stung by the callout, because his eyes soften. “Tell me about her.”

She’s beautiful and kind and smart. Smokes clove cigarettes and the smell is always clinging to her skin. You know how to make her come but don’t know what she’s majoring in—fashion, you think, because she’s always holding fabric swatches against your skin. Tells you what suits you and what doesn’t. Tells you which textures don’t work, what’s too warm, and she doesn’t need to tell you what’s too cold because you already know it’s you.

She’s beautiful and kind and smart and has no idea you’re still in love with someone else.

But you can’t tell Jimin that, can you? Can’t tell him about how she’d dragged you to a private corner in the gallery and kissed you breathless; the way she made you come on her fingers; the way Jeongguk’s name nearly slipped out of your mouth as you shook. Can’t tell him that she’s got arms full of art. Delicate patchwork; nothing like the harsh, bold colors inked into Jeongguk’s skin, but it feels the same to trace the lines.

You can’t tell him much of anything, so what you settle on is, “She’s nice—good for me,” and it doesn’t sound convincing to either of you.

Jimin doesn’t call you on it, though. Not again. Instead, he keeps his gaze steady, staring into the fire, the flames dancing wildly when you meet his eye. “You need to be careful,” he says. “You’re going to hurt her, too. Maybe worse than you hurt him.”

“Jimin—”

“Just be careful,” he reiterates, and all you can do is nod. What else is there to do besides wait for the inevitable crash and burn?

And it’s a little unfair, you think, that Taehyung grows older every single year. A little unfair that guilt won’t let you decline the invitations. A little unfair that you can still pick Jeongguk’s laughter out of a crowd. A little unfair that these hometown friends-turned-acquaintances still throw sideways glances whenever someone else touches him, as if he still has someone to answer to; as if they’re expecting something.

An hour. You’ve survived an hour longer than you did last year, and it’s not much but you’re still proud of yourself. You’ve had a drink, talked to someone other than Jimin. Managed to ignore the way Jeongguk is ignoring you; the way he immediately leaves a room as soon as you enter. Maybe it’s better like this, you reckon. Maybe it’s what you need.

An hour is long enough. Jimin doesn’t comment on the way your bones crack when you stand to leave. No one needs a reminder of growing older. He doesn’t ask if you’ll be okay, either; if you need a ride home. Instead, he stays quiet as he studies you, clearly wondering if lightning strikes twice. If you’re going to be able to walk past Jeongguk and out the door without making another mistake.

You can at least make it across Taehyung’s sprawling yard and to the house. You can dodge the sweat-slick bodies and the girls sitting in laps. You can toss your empty cup in an overflowing trash can. You can pretend the eyes on your back are well-intentioned.

You can make it to the bathroom.

Annoying, the way your phone has been vibrating all night only to disappoint you. Irrational. You scroll past the emoji-laden messages, the coy flirting, because they’re from the person you’re actually dating—the person you told you were going to sleep early—and not from Jeongguk. You should feel guilty. You should feel guilty, but the face staring back at you in the mirror doesn’t look guilty at all.

She looks tired. A little beat-down, but that’s life.

Maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve spent the last two years of your life chasing after ghosts.

A knock at the door startles you. Sends your phone tumbling to the floor, screen probably cracked to hell, and you swear under your breath. “Just a minute!” you call out, a little stunned from how threadbare you feel all of a sudden.

Still, the knocking continues, and you’re on your knees on this bathroom floor and all you want to do is cry. You don’t want to be on this floor in this house. You don’t want to keep putting in the effort of maintaining the facades of all these friendships. You don’t want to keep coming back to this town, don’t want to keep being confronted with the harsh reality of all your mistakes.

“Just a fucking min—”

The words die on your tongue, because there Jeongguk stands, all the air in your lungs dissipating at the amount of space he takes up. Even worse when he steps inside and locks the door behind him. You feel like you’re going to drown. You feel like you’re going to scream or cry or both, and you’re still on the floor, still on your knees, and it feels too much like penance when you look up at him. Feels like you’re groveling, praying for forgiveness.

You stand quickly, ignoring the rush of blood to your head, the way your legs tingle. Jeongguk still hasn’t said a word, doesn’t seem like that’s going to change, either, and it’s really all you can do to stay on your feet when everything in you is screaming to collapse.

Eventually, he says, “You’re seeing someone,” and it isn’t a question, not really, but it borders on one. It’s a question and a confirmation and somehow sounds a lot like he’s asking for permission for something.

“I—yeah.” You swallow. “It’s new.”

He hums. Steps a little closer. Leans against the sink. Darts out his tongue to swipe at his bottom lip before he tugs his lip ring between his teeth. “Yeah? Does he treat you well?”

“She,” you correct, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Jeongguk, at one point, had known everything about you, but not this. “And yeah,” you add on, barely a whisper, “she does.”

Part of you feels embarrassed. Jeongguk had known everything about you but not this, and you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty but it still sits there in the middle of your chest. Feels like you’ve been keeping secrets. Feels like shame, even though you aren’t ashamed. Feels like you’re awaiting judgment. But the surprise in Jeongguk’s eyes disappears and something else settles in its place—uncertainty, if you had to guess.

“Are you happy with her?”

You shrug. “Like I said, it’s new.”

And Jeongguk is as emulous as ever, because he asks, “Does it feel like what we had?” and you already know the answer is no.

“I’m not sure anything will.”

It’s honest; you hadn’t said it to appease him, but he looks pleased anyway. You’re starting to understand why so many people write about their first love. Why it’s such a powerful role to fill. Because you and Jeongguk are standing in a bathroom behind a locked door, feet apart from one another, and you think, I don’t think there’s anyone I will ever love more than him even though it’s been two years. You think, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this.

You think, I would try over and over and over again if he asked me to.

Later on, when you’re alone in your childhood bed and your face is streaked with tears, only your shame and guilt for company, you won’t be able to figure out who moved first, but one of you had.

Once upon a time, you had known everything about Jeongguk, too. You could recite his taste from memory, but it’s different this time. He licks into your mouth and it tastes like ash—nothing like the clove cigarettes your girlfriend smokes, but close enough that the parallel burns like acid in your throat. It’s close enough that you can keep your eyes shut and pretend again.

This time there’s no softness to be found. There’s just Jeongguk’s mouth pressed to yours, barely letting you breathe, not wanting anyone to hear. There’s just the sink digging into your back. Jeongguk’s hands gripping at your waist, pulling at the hem of your skirt. There’s the frustration and desperation of two people who love each other but will never, ever get it right.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as he spits into his hand and slicks you up, if you’re going to tell her.

There’s you, already too far gone, saying you don’t know.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as you’re clenching around him and dragging him with you to the edge, if you’d come back to him if he asked you to.

There’s you, already knowing the answer to this, too, saying you would.

But this isn’t that and Jeongguk doesn’t ask. When it’s over, he tosses the condom and does a half-assed job of helping you clean up and he doesn’t ask. He splashes water on his face and fixes his hair and he doesn’t ask. He tucks his cock back into his briefs and zips his jeans and he doesn’t ask.

Jeongguk has one hand on the doorknob and he doesn’t ask you to come back. Instead, he asks, “How long are you gonna keep doing this?”

For once, you don’t have an answer.

[ the third. ] You go even farther away for grad school.

You try to put more distance between you and Jeongguk, more distance between you and all the skeletons in your closet, but you just pack them up in different boxes and bring them with you.

You spend New Year’s Eve chain-smoking in your parents’ back yard—that same brand of clove cigarettes, because hearts are easy to break but some habits are not. Sometimes it’s a comfort to hurt yourself in the same way you hurt others, so you chain-smoke and you don’t go to to Taehyung’s birthday party because you weren’t invited and it doesn’t sting in the same way that it doesn’t sting that Jimin doesn’t call you once you’re home because he hasn’t spoken to you in a year.

The clock ticks down to midnight. Someone sets off fireworks. Absolutely nothing changes.

There are no half-baked resolutions. There’s no hope that this is going to be the year you get your shit together. There’s just you and the bed you’ve made for yourself; the autopilot you can’t—won’t—turn off, because you don’t know where you’re going anyway so you might as well just go wherever it’s taking you. There’s guilt and there’s shame and there’s baggage, but they’re all old friends. Those are old scars.

The sweatshirt you’re wearing doesn’t belong to you, and it does little to protect you from the bitter cold that bites at your skin. Jeongguk doesn’t belong to you, either, but he keeps coming back to you like he does.

“Mind if I sit down?”

You shrug, gesturing to the empty chair beside you. The small fire you’d built is down to its last embers, and it’s what you focus on, because you can’t focus on Jeongguk anymore.

“You weren’t at Tae’s.”

“Wasn’t invited.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve—”

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

He seems to hear what you don’t say. I wouldn’t have gone because I can’t be around you anymore. I wouldn’t have gone because I don’t trust myself with you. I wouldn’t have gone because I’ve burned down every good thing in my life trying to keep you. “Oh. Yeah, that—that makes sense.”

He’d texted you. Asked if he could see you. Just wanted to talk, and you’ve never cared much for symbolism, but nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve had seemed as good a time as any to let it go, so you’d said yes. Now, when there isn’t much to say, all of Jeongguk’s flimsy excuses are laid bare. Transparent.

“Was Jimin there?”

Jeongguk nods. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. Feels like it’s made of concrete. “No. We haven’t talked since last winter break.”

“Because of—”

How cruel, that you’d confessed to Jimin instead of the one person who deserved to know. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrug again. “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s permanent, just until I can get my shit together, I guess. Wasn’t fair to drag him into my mess anyway.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jeongguk says, and it sounds like something he wants to be true. It sounds like something he’s said countless times in defense of himself. “We’d—I’d do it if I could.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “of course.”

Silence creeps up again, so you dig another cigarette out of the pack and offer one to Jeongguk that he waves away. “Cloves? That’s a weird choice.”

“Just something I picked up along the way.”

He hears you again: They’re what she used to smoke. It helps me heal to hurt myself with something that reminds me of her. Sometimes I chain-smoke clove cigarettes and I don’t wash the smell from my hands, my clothes, my hair, because it makes me feel less alone.

So he asks, “Was it real?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, flicking the wheel of your lighter, words spoken around the cigarette stuck between your lips. “It never had a chance. Not a real one, anyway.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Know what? That I went away to college and started fucking women?” Jeongguk shrugs. Has the audacity to look embarrassed. “What are you trying to ask me? You wanna know if I keep coming back to you because I’m scared to come out to my parents?”

“No. I don’t know. I just—”

The laugh that escapes you is scorched and bitter. Sounds the way the tobacco tastes. “No, Jeongguk. I keep coming back to you because I keep hoping you’ll ask me to.” I keep hoping you still want me.

“I almost did,” he admits, and you can hear how he swallows around the lump in his throat. “The first time.”

“When you were a dick about me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, okay. You didn’t want me back, you just didn’t want me to be with anyone else.”

He huffs. “How the fuck do you know what I want? You’ve never bothered to ask.”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” comes your response, stilted and practiced. “It doesn’t matter what we want, because we’re just going to keep hurting one another trying to get it right.” You suck in a breath, wipe furiously at the tears on your cheeks. “And we’re never going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then ask.” Jeongguk startles, looks at you with wide eyes. “Ask me to come back for real, Jeongguk, and I will.”

A beat of silence.

Two, three, four.

Someone sets off another round of fireworks. A dog barks. It’s so cold that you can see Jeongguk’s breath each time he exhales, each time he breathes out instead of speaking. All the words he isn’t saying. And it’s exactly how you knew it would go, but it does nothing to tamp down the devastation in your chest.

You’d confessed your transgressions to Jimin and thought your silence to your ex-girlfriend was a gift, that it was sparing her the pain of what you’d done. Now you understand that someone’s silence can be the most vicious thing of all.

[ the last. ] Graduation looms. It’s the last winter break you’re spending at home.

Your therapist suspects you get your compartmentalism from your parents.

They don’t mention it. They see the stack of boxes and your bare bedroom walls and they don’t say a word about any of it. They watch you pack everything in your car and don’t offer to help. They process their grief silently, and when you can’t stand it anymore, you say, “I dated a woman my senior year of undergrad, you know.”

They don’t say anything to that, either, but it feels good to tell them. Feels a little like freedom and reclamation, like you can be who you are in front of others.

When you leave for good, you don’t want to repackage all those same skeletons.

So you meet Jimin for lunch and you take it in stride that everything is weird, that there’s nearly two years of silence to fill. You don’t ask for forgiveness and he doesn’t demand it of you, just asks if you’re doing better. “I’m doing the best I can,” you answer, and it’s human and honest enough that he accepts it with a warm smile.

Jeongguk is more difficult.

There’s no way to neatly box up that kind of baggage.

You’d intended to stop by his apartment to talk, tell him you aren’t coming back anymore. There’s nothing left here for you, you’d told him, and there was a flash of something. A there’s me, isn’t there? that had gone unsaid, destined for the same fate as a million other unspoken words between you.

Because there is him, but there’s also the way you’re desperately trying to claw back into something resembling normalcy. You’d lost yourself when you also lost Jeongguk, and you need to figure out who you are without him. You need to know who you are once you stop running and let your demons catch up with you. You need to hear what they have to say.

Maybe Jeongguk had said it best last year—“It’s not that easy. I’d do it if I could.”—because you’re nothing if not predictable and self-destructive.

You’re nothing if not naked and on your back beneath him, your fingers threaded through his hair as he rocks his hips into you, more tender than you deserve. His lips are ghosting along your skin and every press feels like a brand. Feels like he’s both making a mockery of you and declaring you ruined for anyone who might come after him. Feels like you’ll love him until you die.

(Some version of you must exist outside of Jeongguk’s grasp—outside of his orbit, his bed—but right now, as he twines your fingers together and pins them above your head, you can’t figure out who she might be.)

Eight months had been a long time to think of all the things you wanted to say, and four years is worse. Four years, and you still can’t bring yourself to ask him to try again, but there’s nothing after this, nothing to lose, so your voice is hoarse and raw when you say, “Jeongguk,” and he groans a little, nips at the column of your throat because he loves the way you say his name. “Jeongguk,” you repeat, because he senses the urgency, hears what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah, baby, say it. Whatever it is, tell me.”

He rolls his hips faster. Before, he would’ve tried to prolong the ending, but he’s hurtling towards it now. There’s nothing after this, you know, but you need the confirmation. You need to finally put all of this to rest. “I want to—” His cock strokes someplace that whites out your vision. “Fuck, want to—want you to come with me.”

He laughs, full of himself, probably smirking out the side of his mouth. “Keep squeezing me like that and I will soon.”

“No,” you insist, shocked at the conviction in your voice, “when I leave. Come with me.”

Everything slows. Jeongguk pulls back, moves his hands to cover himself, and there’s nothing but cold confusion in his absence. “What?”

“I didn’t ask you before. Last year. I just—I left it up to you, and you’re right, I didn’t ask what you wanted, but I didn’t tell you what I wanted, either. But I’m telling you now. I’m asking—”

There was never going to be anything after this.

Jeongguk’s silence says it all.

The way he pulls out and rolls you onto your stomach. The way he fucks as fast and as hard as he can. The way he used to love you openly and honestly and now holds whatever’s left close to his chest like it’s something to be ashamed of.

Someone’s silence can always be the most vicious thing of all.

Roll credits.

thank you so much for reading, and an additional thank you in advance if you decide to reblog my work. as always, my inbox is always open for any feedback! ♡

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic

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belladonazeppole · 8 months ago

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What if?... Husk knew his harem when alive.

(Using the Harem!Husk idea of @dealwithadeer also I propose that the harem could be called "Strong Suit")

It would make sense with Husk be one who live the longest.

The thing is that they meet Husk in a high point of his life so they only saw the good side and nobody make the connection that they're the same person.

Problem? Husk does remember them.

Lucifer? One doesn't forget that summoned the devil and survive no matter how much you drink.

Alastor? It was quite clear and more since Alastor doesn't hide who he was when alive.

Angel? He tells him a story when they're alone in the bar and Angel is a bit drunk so he gave a lot of details and Husk make the connection pretty easily later.

Vox? He told him in one of their "dates" that he make him remember the one who got away (in a way to look more sincere and Husk gave him info)

How they meet?

First one Lucifer, they meet in the 20's and Husk was in his early twenties, maybe he was fucking around with a book and end up summoning by accident Lucifer and instead of be scare he ask him for money (a gambler to the the end) Lucifer was amuse by this odd and pretty (I headcanon that Husk was super pretty in his youth, sue me!)

So the deal was that Husk show him a night of entertainment and he would gave him the money, he actually hope to Husk to fail but was surprise for the magic shows of Husk, the glamour of Vegas, having somebody in his arms again (he and Lilith were divorce at that point since I refuse to write Luci as a cheater) it was the most fun he ever had in a long time.

Husk got the money and a King.

Next is Alastor, in the early 30's so Husk was in his early to mid thirties, Husk was the new bartender/sax player in his town at first he was suppose to be his newest victim, and I think that Alastor has a thing in having a "interview" with his victims. He expect to Husk to be like the other men he interview crude, boring and stupid.

He was surprise in how Husk break his expectentions, they actually got along so Alastor decide it would be a waste in killing him so soon, so he spare him, even deciding that if Husk end ups boring him that he could be a nice dessert.

Husk got to live longer and a Ace.

Now Angel Dust, this was in the 40's and Husk was in his mid forties, Angel was recently kick out of his family for be gay and was dealing with a lot of self-hate and drugs, it was his lowest point (so far) and he pass out one night in the snow.

He was shock of waking up in a warm bed while somebody was taking care of him. It was Husk with his boyfriend (Husk was dating a rich dude at the time) even if neither of them say out loud they were boyfriends they also never hide it.

This make Angel feel safe and Husk took care of Angel, in return Angel told him that he make sure that nobody will bother them, Husk didn't know that Angel was a mafioso just kind words of somebody he help.

Husk got protection and a Heart.

Finally is Vox, they meet a lot actually from the 20's to the 50's they had a lot of quick enconters. I headcanon that Husk did drag when he was alive and that is how they meet, Vox wanted to ask Husk for a date but he was already gone for traveling.

Each time they meet again Vox felt a sense of peace since times where changing, he was changing but the only person that maintain all his life was Husk that in the big picture he was still a total stranger but for Vox the only person who saw him since day one.

Vox was either was a cult leader or a CEO (almost the same) so he wanted Husk a his side since he was somebody that see pass his charm. Husk was like the wind pass his fingers and was unable to control him just go to wherever he desire.

Husk got to maintain his freedom and a Diamond.

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shinidamachu · 4 months ago

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inukag was born to be shipped by me and I was born to ship inukag as well

For ages now I've been meaning to write about the reasons why I ship Inukag as fervently as I do and @inukag-week felt like the perfect opportunity to indulge myself, so here we go.

I want to start with how aesthetically pleasing they are. From their perfect size difference to the complimentary color scheme of their outfits plus contrasting hair and eye colors, Inuyasha and Kagome just look absolutely good together.

Their character design makes it clear from the get go that they're visually a great match. The association is so strong that the audience becomes unable to picture one without the other, as if they're two halves of the same item. Different, yet unequivocally a team, a pair.

Decades ago, they already had that classic quality to them and I bet they'd never get out of style even decades from now. And the rich lore that surrounds the pairing only adds to that aesthetic: the well, the tree, the beads, the robe, the sword, all of it enhances how iconic they are. Even something as ordinary as star gazing becomes uniquelly theirs.

Futhermore, I just absolutely love the entire concept of it. The subvertion of the fairy tale archetype, the idea of a love that transcends time, of soulmates who actually work on building their bond. Loving each other was both inevitable and a choice they made every single day.

Inuyasha and Kagome were just two teenagers from different worlds — literally and figurativelly — discovering together what love was. This made their relationship very compelling, because the excange between them is insanely substancial.

And their overall dynamic is so wholesome. There was a push and pull, a give and take, that made it fluid rather than static. Every single milestone felt organic and kept the audience thirsting for the next one.

Nothing felt forced or rushed. The slow burn was competently written to showcase their relationship being build on a very strong foundation, consistent in intimacy, mutual trust and acceptance — recurring themes for them and for the story — and so the stages of their bond had such a natural pace, it highlighted how genuine and healthy it was.

Consequently, there are so many aspects of their connection to explore. There's a never ending room for angst and for light hearted moments and you can adopt a more mature perspective or go for comical instead: they manage to be versatile without being generic and to embod the best clichés in fiction without becoming one themselves.

It's hard to think of a trope they couldn't pull off or an alternate universe that doesn't work for them. It gives the fandom plenty of freedom to be creative and to have the best time with it.

Plus, their chemistry was off charts. The romantic tension bleed through every single interaction. Their passion is so strong you could feel it even in scenes that had nothing to do with romance. And they didn't even need to kiss to achieve that level of synchrony.

They were also compatible. Inuyasha and Kagome balance each other quite nicely. Even in a relationship, they still keep their individualities and remain interesting both as characters and as a ship.

The very thing that dooms most pairings — opposite personalities — is precisely what keeps them together. Inuyasha and Kagome are completely different from each other, but they're actually extremely similar where it actually matters: their morals and goals.

And they longer they stay together, challenging one another, growing through trials and tribulations, inadvertently learning what each other's needs are and fulfilling them, easing each other's sorrows, covering each other's backs, saving each other's lives in every possible way, learning each other and learning with one another, the more their dichotomy turns into a duality, because they gain a more nuanced perspective of themselves, of each other and of the world.

It's a level of understanding, closeness and respect incredibly difficult to match. And for Inuyasha and Kagome, no one else even came close.

Another thing is that they're not just complementary to each other, but to the story itself. Their romance enhaces the overall plot. It has a structural placement in the wider narrative, strengthening its core themes and fulfilling the characters individual arcs, ultimately resulting in a more compelling journey.

So many romances are disposable to their own story, but Inukag was detrimental to theirs. Inuyasha and Kagome's interactions served as pivotal points of their respective arcs. Taking only the narrative into consideration, their relationship holds a lot of weight and greatly influenced everyone around it and it tied everything together.

That's why their happy ending felt so satisfying: it feels earned because everything went full cycle. All of that symbolism, all of those parallels paid off. Anything different from what we got would simply lack narrative and thematic cohesion.

And even if they didn't end up together, they could never be circumstancial. There was a real reason why they met, a reason why the fell in love and why they had ever lasting impacts on each other's lives regardless. It wasn't just love for love's sake.

This is what makes them, in my opinion, an epic ship.

BONUS: their soundtrack is lit and their quotes are simply legendary.

#Inukag Week #Inukag Week 2024 #Kagome #Inuyasha #Inumeta #Inukag meta #Inuyasha meta #Inukag #Kagome Higurashi #Excuse the dramatic title I just couldn't help myself

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luvu2themoonand2saturn · 2 years ago

Note

can u write a fic for joe where they are long distance b/c the reader lives in Seattle and she surprises him by showing up to a game.

surprise

joe burrow x reader

warnings: pure fluff!! mentions of reader previously being with shitty guys

word count: 1.6k

note: didn’t specifically place the reader in seattle, but it is implied the reader is living in pst, joe in est

thank you so much for this request!! loved writing it and i hope you enjoy <3

Dating Joe Burrow was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Living on the opposite side of the country from him was not.

You had never thought you were the type of person who could feel truly secure in a long-distance relationship, never having known you could trust someone so fully. It turned out the issue wasn’t entirely your difficulties with trusting; it had also been the fact you were with people not deserving of such trust. The boys you had known before Joe had used any amount of physical distance to excuse their emotional distance.

Now, you awoke to a good morning voice memo from Joe every single day, reminding you of how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, how much he wished he was waking up with you beside him. He would spend hours on FaceTime with you at night, even when it meant staying up until the wee hours to make up for the time difference, despite having an early practice the following morning. He had shown you that no distance could get in the way of genuine love. Joe had changed your perspective entirely, loving you so honestly and openly you couldn’t help but feel safe placing all of your faith in him.

You never had cause to doubt his loyalty, and even when your unfounded fears about him straying threatened to take over your mind, he helped guide you back to reality. In reality, the love you shared ran deep and true. He couldn’t imagine finding someone half as beautiful, as kind, as caring as you. Neither could you imagine a more perfect man existed for you. You two were simply made for each other, two souls always destined to find a home in each other’s hearts.

He made time to fly out and visit you whenever he could, even if it was only for a weekend, knowing your school schedule made it more challenging for you to come and see him. You didn’t know how you could ever be quite as good to him as he was to you, but God, you tried. That was why you were surprising him at a home game on a random Thursday.

To Joe’s best knowledge, you were busy with finals this whole week. Little did he know, you only had exams scheduled Monday through Wednesday. You had flown into Cincinnati that morning. It had been a little hard to give Joe a convincing reason for the fact that you couldn’t FaceTime or call for six hours straight, since he knew no exam took that long, but you thought in the end he had bought your story that you had two back to back and needed to use all the time in between them for last minute review.

Now, though, you found yourself in a taxi headed to the stadium. You had gone from the airport to Joe’s place, dropping off your luggage. Even though you lived so far away, he had given you a key, more of a symbolic gesture than a practical one. Nevertheless, it was coming in handy.

The security at the stadium had been alerted of your presence, thanks to your contact with Joe’s coach, and you were led by a guard through several locked doors before emerging into the hallway that connected to the field. The security guard accompanying you let you speed walk ahead, unable to prolong being reunited with Joe for a second longer than necessary.

You emerged into the gray light of the day, the strength of the sun softened by a layer of clouds. You spotted Joe’s number nine jersey right away - it matched the one you were wearing. His back was to you as he tossed a football back and forth with Ja’Marr.

He was out of earshot, but Tee wasn’t, so you called out to him from the sidelines, where you stood behind the retractable barrier. Despite the fact that you lived so far away, you knew all of Joe’s teammates well. You had celebrated wins with them in person when you could and shared dinner with those who Joe was closest with. Whenever Joe FaceTimed you from the locker room before a game, he would hold his phone up so the rest of the guys could wave at your image on the screen while you wished them good luck. They all adored you, especially seeing how happy you made their quarterback.

However, that didn’t stop them from making cheeky comments about how whipped he was for you whenever they overheard your locker room conversations or caught him smiling at his phone. He couldn’t care less; he knew it was all in good fun, and he would never be ashamed of how happy his girl made him.

“Tee!” you called out, waving down the wide receiver.

“Hey!” he said automatically, before he realized who he was talking to. “What are you doing here? Joe didn’t say you were in town!” as he walked over, smiling broadly, clearly happy to see you.

“He doesn’t know,” you quickly explained. “Could you get him over here?”

“Aw, you’ve gotta do it yourself, come in, they won’t care.” Tee pulled up a section of the barrier, allowing you to duck beneath it.

“If I get hit in the head by a football, I’m blaming you!” you joked, before giving Tee a quick thanks and setting off across the field with the longest strides you could manage.

Once in earshot, you started calling out, “Joe! Joe!”

He immediately whipped his head around, recognizing your familiar voice but not comprehending why he was hearing it so clearly, momentarily questioning his sanity until his eyes fell on your familiar face, your radiant smile directed right at him. Your grin, already impossibly wide, somehow grew when you caught the first glimpse of his beautiful face in person.

“Baby,” he said, evidently shocked. He dropped the football from his hands, eyes wide, and quickly closed the distance between you with long strides. You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms snugly around his neck as he lifted your feet off the ground, his arms secure around your waist. He pressed his face into your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo. It was always these intimate little details he missed the most.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in disbelief, voice muffled as he spoke against your neck, unwilling to untangle himself from you just yet.

“I missed you, and I thought it would be fun to surprise you.” Your voice threatened to break under the force of emotion rising in your chest. “God, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby, so much,” he murmured, his voice husky.

On the drive to the stadium, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t cry when you saw him again, but how could you stop your eyes from watering and eventually overflowing with the sheer and overwhelming joy of being back in your boy’s arms? You sniffled, and Joe pulled back just enough to see your face.

“Oh, sweet girl, don’t cry. Y’know I’ll start if you do,” he murmured, his large, warm hands coming to hold your face as he smiled softly at you. “You’re here now, I’m here, it’s all okay.”

You smiled, the crinkling at the corners of your eyes causing another tear to slide down your cheek. Before it could go far, Joe’s thumb gently swiped it away. He leaned down to press a kiss to the path the tear had just traced down your cheek, another to your forehead, the tip of your nose, before finally meeting your lips with his. His kiss was pure sweetness, tender and gentle and loving.

Your hands came to hold his face, one finger tracing down his jaw as you rested your foreheads together, going cross-eyed as you gazed at each other.

“Missed your beautiful face so much, baby. Swear you get prettier every time I see you.” Y

You smiled. “Could say the same for you, pretty boy.”

He flushed slightly. “Can’t believe you’re actually here,” he sighed, almost in relief, as if your presence lifted a weight from his shoulders - the weight of your absence. Right after, a quizzical look appeared on his brow. “What about your exams, though?”

“I lied when I said I had one every day - don’t have any today or tomorrow.”

“I should’ve known something was up when I couldn’t get in touch with you for so long today,” he chuckled.

Standing on tiptoe, you gave his lips another peck. “Guess you’ll just have to admit I outsmarted you, Burrow.”

“Just this once, sweetheart.”

Although you could’ve stood in the middle of that football field for another hour just holding him, absorbing the fact of his very existence, he had a game to prepare for. “I shouldn’t keep you too long, Joe-“

“Yes you should. You should always keep me,” he interjected.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed. “You’ve got a game to win.”

“Can’t lose when I know my girl’s watching! Think I need one more kiss for good luck.” You happily indulged his wishes.

“I’ll be waiting for you after the game, my love.”

“Can’t wait,” he replied, before his coach hollered, “Wrap it up, lover boy!”

“Two seconds!” he yelled back, pulling you back into his chest for one more moment before saying goodbye.

It was the easiest goodbye you’d exchanged in months, not shared through a screen or punctuated only by air kisses and waves. This goodbye wasn’t marred by the knowledge of the distance between you and the cold beds you were each sleeping in, alone. In hours, you would be reunited. You would be in the same building, asleep in the same bed, warming each other. And you would get to kiss his perfect face, not just in your dreams.

Whether this game was a win or a loss, you both knew tonight would be one of the happiest in a while.

could write a pt 2 to this if anyone was interested. let me know if that’s something you’d like and whether you’d like it to go in a fluffier or spicier direction … thanks for reading! <3

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x fem!reader

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writingwithfolklore · 6 months ago

Text

Sequels and Series

On one hand, a sequel can be easy because you already did the worldbuilding, character creation, etc. in the first book.

On the other hand, expectations are high—both that the sequel be as good and consistent as the first book, while offering something new. There’s generally two kinds of sequels, ones that continue the world and characters but within a new journey (think Frozen 2 or the Percy Jackson books), and ones that continue the same journey set up in the first book (Hunger Games, or Divergent). Either way, your sequel is about your MC’s arc, so let’s get into it:

1. Leave room for greater change in the first book

The first thing to consider when writing a sequel comes in writing the first book—obviously the world should leave room for more story in either style of sequel, but so should your character arcs. The first book needs to follow an arc that’s satisfying and fulfilled by the end, but still has room to grow and change in subsequent books.

It’s important not to go backwards in the sequel and make your character forget what they learned just to learn it again.

So, if in the first book your MC learns to be confident in themselves and trust their instincts, maybe in the sequel they are too overconfident, and need to learn to trust others’ ideas and suggestions. Or maybe a new situation means adjusting their old instincts that no longer apply. They shouldn’t start as unconfident again and have to relearn their lesson—they’re a changed, grown person continuing to change and grow.

Otherwise, they may not fully complete their arc in the first book if you’re continuing the same journey in the second—this means you’ll have to plan out a lengthy and difficult arc that has the ability to hold up across several books.

2. But they’re still the same character

The arcs between books should be somewhat related—it would be odd if in the first book a character gets confident, and in the second, they learn something completely new and unrelated to their backstory or personality. If you feel like you’re creating a new character when working on the sequel, you’re probably adding too much.

This goes the same for continuing the same journey. Characters need to be relatively consistent across books, and their gradual change throughout the series should feel consistent, with none of the development happening off page.

3. Sequels/Series are harder to get published (as a first time author)

If you’re looking to get traditionally published for the first time, unfortunately your novel likely won’t/can’t be part of a series or made to have a sequel. It makes sense that an editor is putting a lot of trust and hope into your story to get it published—they aren’t going to sign on to a longer series (or even duology) that they don’t know will be successful. This means that you’re probably unable to do the second type of sequel (by ending on a major cliffhanger).

What you can do is have an ending that wraps up the story satisfyingly, but leaves a little bit of room to continue onto a sequel. If the first book is successful and your editor wants to sign you on for a sequel, you have room to write it. Or, in a lot of cases, you have to publish a few standalones before you build the reputation and trust to write your sequel.

Anything else I missed?

#writing #creative writing #writers #writing community #screenwriting #writing inspiration #books #filmmaking #film #writing advice #sequels and series #writing a sequel #writing series #sequel #series

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kanmom51 · 3 months ago

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Rebirth - Muse - JM

[**This post was written before the release of today's BTB and the little explanation JM gave us about Rebirth and Slow dance. What can I say other than just how much more my words feel relevant now. ]

As promised.

Thought I'd sneak this one in before Are you sure? lands, cause Idk, I just have this feeling that once it does we are up for 1 of two options:

I'm so overwhelmed by the amount of content we are getting that I'll be so dumbfounded and unable to post at all; Or, I will be so busy ruffling through everything running after my own tail trying to post post post post, that I will have zero time or ability to post this.

Long story short, this was the time. Do or die pretty much.

So Intro: Rebirth.

Before I get into the lyrics themselves I do want to go back to what we learnt from the Minimoni album exchange.

I kind of feel like a broken record here, but then again, I do think that obviously watching that exchange and my post on it can be a good starting point into understanding not only what Muse is all about, but also that out of all the songs on the album, Rebirth, in a sense, is just a little more personal than the others.

JM talks how the lyrics for this one were really hard to write. He mentions this a couple of times.

This was also when JM talked it was hard to write about having a crush.

Before moving on and talking about the song itself I do want to clarify something here.

I was really surprised to see how people are interpreting this.

Do people not know what the meaning of the word crush is? Not only the actual term JM used in Korean (that perhaps got lost in translation), but the actual meaning of the word in English.

짝사랑 - this is the term JM used while talking to RM.

Which basically translates as unrequited or one sided love, which is just that if you understand the actual term of the word.

Go to Oxford dictionary and crush is described as: "a brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone unattainable." And if you look up "infatuation" well: "an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something."

Now, when I heard the word crush that is exactly what I understood and it was funny for me to see that there were those that interpret the word as falling in love or being in love or similar to that, when crush means something else all together.

*Side note: JM's love life aside, knowing the concept of JM's album, it's easy to understand why he chose to use the idea of a crush as a metaphor to describe that short lived passion/excitement he was feeling with his work, telling us or showing us, with the development of the songs in the album, that indeed it is short lived and he was yet to find that long lasting feeling of excitement with the things he was doing (work/his art) - still searching for that "who".

Back to the meaning of crush.

As explained, a crush in English means an intense infatuation with another that is mostly unattainable. Two people can crush on each other, but it's a crush only as long as it is yet to be requited. Once it is reciprocated then it's no longer a crush. So, you can crush on someone unknowing that the other person has a crush on you. This crush can fizzle out and end in nothingness. But a crush evolve into a relationship if the two people involved move forward from it. Making that move forward towards each other.

This is what having a crush looks like:

And this is how it looks when you had a crush and are realizing that maybe, just maybe that person is reciprocating.

And this is when you have decided that he really is.

That was back in 2015 btw. August 2015 and December 2015. ALMOST 9 YEARS AGO.

Unattainable.

Short-lived.

Are we surprised JM wouldn't remember the last time he had a crush?

I will repeat this for the rows in the back that might not have heard. When JM says he doesn't remember the last time he had a crush, that doesn't mean he's single. Whoever thinks that is what he's saying needs a crash course in English and/or life.

A crash course in crush... lmao (yes, I am easily entertained).

So, JM had to turn to the youngest member of SGMB (lol) to remind him what it feels like to have a crush. And yet, as I have explained in the Minimoni post, Muse might not be autobiographical, but that doesn't mean that there aren't personal aspects to some of the songs, and the lyrics. Feelings expressed being real feelings drawn from his trove of inner thoughts, feelings and life and love experiences.

I will also add that although crushing is mostly one sided, and when it turns into more, as in the other party reciprocates, of course there are some of the feelings that linger. The rush, the want, the need. But at the same time things change in that the other side is feeling the same. When you look at them, they look back, gazes linger rather than avoiding eye contact, for example. There are the touches when crushing, and there are the touches, just as hesitant, after it becoming MORE. The first are one sided and usually hidden as something else (for example: "I just need to check your arm muscles for a sec"), while the second are two sided, intentional but at times hidden from others.

The differences might be so very slight at times, but if you have a keen eye you can definitley notice them. And they sure were noticeable when it came to Jikook.

Another thing before I start.

One word:

SERENDIPITY

Idk why, but I feel like Rebirth is a prequel to Serendipity. Even though Serendipity was not written by JM (although I do believe he had input into the song just like or even more so with John Billion - remember how JM says he's an American RM...), it most certainly was claimed by him and JK as theirs. You are me I am you being their trademarked catch phrase. A love ode from JM to JK. That song JM said he will gift his loved one and did. Followed by GCFT, JK's love ode to JM. And if I'm going down that road, well, if Rebirth is the prequel to Serendipity I'd say that Letter is the sequel to Serendipity. I kind of think I've mentioned this before in one of my posts about Letter.

Now that I'm done with my precursor, let's move on to the actual song. A song that out of the lot of them in this album seems to be the most personal. The only song that we didn't get to see the process of writing or recording of in content we have gotten so far for Muse (promotions now over).

[Verse] If I'm tryna be special Can I get closer to you? I can feel my heart pounding When your fingertips graze past me If I'm tryna be special So that I can sing while making eye contact with you I'll show you, baby Oh, I didn't realize Oh, I didn't think I'd care Oh my gosh, now I Won't hide You are the light in my darkness Like the sunshine vibe It spreads quietly [Chorus] That I want a real good love, good love, good love I'm tryna find a love, good love, real love I was in pitch black, but I couldn't stop thinking of you all day long I want to take one step and two steps closer without you knowing Stay with you, with you, with you, with you I will be your reason, rеason, reason, reason I hope this feeling rеaches you, to you, you To you [Outro] White clouds The wind passing by Floating petals It feels like it's been waiting just for us When that door opens When I get closer to you I'll tell you this I will be special all for you Special just for you For you (For you) For you (For you) I wanna be with you

I will share with you what went through my mind once listening to Rebirth, all while reading parts of the translated lyrics. The flashing scenes. Parts that screamed JK or Jikook.

"I can feel my heart pounding When your fingertips graze past me"

This:

And this:

I can go on with this all day long. Being one of the most obvious sus behaviours with these two. But seeing that I don't want to exceed my image limit in this post I think this is where I will stop. Point made I guess.

"So that I can sing while making eye contact with you"

This was the first thing that came to mind:

😭😭

Although these did too:

And do we recall JK's sentiments about making eye contact with JM on stage?

They connect on stage. Before, during and at the end of the performance. We have seen it and they have told us so throughout the years.

Was that what JM was thinking of while writing that line?

This is clearly a line that is taken from his own personal experience. Singing while making eye contact is not something that regular people like you or I would come up with to express a feeling of love or want towards someone.

Drawing from his own emotions and experiences, how it is for him and how he might have used to wish it would be.

This line, more than any other is clearly that.

"Oh my gosh, now I Won't hide You are the light in my darkness" and "Like the sunshine vibe"

The latter, as JM explained to RM, was a word game/pun for which he asked permission from Taeyang to use in his song, seeing that his name literally means sun and Vibe was his song, lol.

But, we also know there is someone else, much closer to home, much closer period, that is referred to as the sun. Someone that makes JM happy. Someone that makes JM laugh even when he's sad. Someone that JM chose to go into the army with, together!!! Someone that is the other half of the sun and moon duo, the sun to JM's moon.

And what about this?

I'm tryna find a love, good love, real love

And he found it.

Coincidence? I don't think so.

"When that door opens When I get closer to you I'll tell you this I will be special all for you Special just for you For you (For you) For you (For you)

And he is. JM is special for JK. He has told and showed us this in so many ways in the past.

"I wanna be with you"

I wanna be with you...

Again, JM told us the songs aren't about his life, right? And yet, that doesn't mean they don't have a personal connection, that while writing he didn't take from his own experiences or feelings, that after writing he feels an emotional connection with the song, that even if not intended to it hits closer to home than others. And I feel like this is the case with Rebirth. I do believe that there is a reason it is the connecting song between Face and Muse. That there is a reason the interlude separates it from the rest of the songs.

#Jimin #JM #JM Muse #JM Rebirth #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #JK

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neptuneiris · 1 year ago

Text

brooklyn baby (03/?)

look at us, you and i, back at it again

pairing: rockstar!aemond × fem!reader

summary: another party, a group of friends and the spin the bottle game takes you back to aemond.

word count: 9.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

here another chapter, long but necessary, I'm really enjoying writing this story and I hope you also like it a lot. I look forward to your comments, thanks for all the support my loves, enjoy!

warnings: alcohol, language, mention of weed.

You let out a huge sigh of frustration and instantly stop typing, close your eyes and bring your hands to the back of your neck, not understanding what the fuck is wrong with you.

Oh but you do know.

Your funny mind tells you, only making you more frustrated and angry with yourself, as it is right because you do know what exactly is wrong with you. And what's wrong with you has a name: Aemond Targaryen.

It's going to be a whole week since that kiss and what a kiss... happened. You haven't seen him again but it's all constantly replaying in your mind, unable to avoid it and unable to stop.

All this week you have been trying to distract yourself with all your college homework, this important project is an example, but you always come back to think about him.

And you don't understand why, rather why that kiss and that moment with him is affecting you so much when it was just a kiss, yes, with a handsome guy who plays in a band, but nothing more than just a kiss happened.

However... you remember perfectly the feeling of his lips against yours, his hands caressing your face and body, also the way he pressed himself against you and sent waves of pleasure to your core.

Stop it!

You scold yourself, not being able to think about it here, in the school library, not when the simple memory of how he felt against you... right now makes you feel things you shouldn't feel in this place, at all.

You grimace, giving yourself a moment, because yes, it all felt great, the kiss was amazing, the feeling, everything... but a deep part of you tells you that you shouldn't have allowed it.

Maybe you didn't fuck with him but still, you've become just another girl who like all of them, fell easily at his feet. Even after seeing him like that with one of his fans, which tells you it's not the first time he's done it and after feeling disappointed, ignoring him and so on, you still reciprocated his kiss.

You get frustrated again, telling yourself that enough is enough and go back to work, no longer wanting to think about him and that kiss, focusing and getting serious about your project.

It takes you all afternoon and a small part of the evening to finally finish and you head back to your apartment, ending another stressful week and having no more worries, so you can rest now.

You let out a long sigh of relief as the warmth of your home envelops you, feeling so good to be back here and have no more worries, as you head to the kitchen and drop your backpack on the small island, thinking about what you can prepare to eat and then go to your room and watch a TV show or movie.

"Hi," says someone suddenly behind you.

You move as fast as your body allows you and completely scared you look at your living room behind you, where very comfortably on one of your sofas sits Baela, with her phone in hand and innocently eating some strawberries, which are in fact yours because you bought them two days ago when you went to the supermarket.

"W-what..." you stare at her blankly, your heart rate being faster than normal, "What are you doing here?"

"I texted you," she says still unconcerned, raising her phone, "I told you I'd be waiting for you here."

"But..." you look at her completely confused, "How did you get in? In fact, how come you and Rhaena can come in here? I have my keys, I-I don't....

"I made them a copy about a month ago," she interrupts you to answer, still unconcerned.

"What?" you snap, confused, "How?"

She shrugs.

"I know someone. And you didn't even notice."

You continue to stare at her completely confused, then let out a long breath and continue to try to control your heart rate, the feeling of being scared still not completely gone.

"God, you almost scared me to death," you look at her serious.

"Oh how dramatic," she rolls her eyes at you, "Anyway, come here."

You continue to watch her seriously, as you reluctantly make your way over to her to take a seat on your single couch, only to have your gaze fall on your bowl of strawberries that she is eating so placidly

"And those strawberries are mine," you snap at her.

She frowns at you.

"I'll buy you more, selfish."

You continue to stare at her for a few more seconds.

"Well? What's going on?" you watch her expectantly.

"There's a frat party tomorrow, the leader is a friend of mine, his name is William."

She starts to tell you and you instantly look away from her, understanding where she's going with this, as you let out a long breath and drop your head back against the back of the couch, closing your eyes.

"I invited Jace, I told him if he wanted he could invite his cousins and he said yes, they'll be there. So go prepare another one of your sexy outfit's."

"I'm not going," you tell her instantly, with resignation.

"What?" she also says instantly with surprise and confusion, "What are you talking about? And now why not?"

"I don't want to go."

She looks at you with her mouth wide open.

"B-but... are you crazy? Your sexy guitarist will be there," she says indignantly, "This is another great opportunity for you to see him again."

"It doesn't matter, I don't want to."

"What do you mean you don't want to!?"

She exclaims to you totally confused and without understanding anything, leaving the bowl with strawberries aside to give you all her attention, while you continue firm with your words and with the decision more than taken, from now on thinking that whatever she tells you, she won't make you change your mind.

What happened with Aemond... you don't want to say it was a mistake but it shouldn't have happened either. You've already become just another one of the crowd and if you see him again, you're afraid you won't be able to stop again and you really don't want that.

You don't want to take things any further... you don't want to 'officially' become another one of the crowd if he and you... get involved in that way.

"I'm not understanding anything," Baela says frustrated, "You don't want to see him again?"

"Baela, I don't want to see him again because I don't want to become another girl in his pile," you say seriously.

"W-what?" she says more confused than before, "Wait, what do you mean? Why do you say that? Did something happen with him that you haven't told me? Because I swear I don't understand anything."

"We kissed at Jason's party," you tell her suddenly, surprising her, "And I let it happen just when earlier at the after party I saw him going into the bathroom with one of his fans."

Baela, still surprised, softens her whole face now in understanding, but still surprised, while you affirm to her with your gaze that it is true, with your disappointed and serious face.

"It just happened. I couldn't help it," you tell her frustrated, bringing your hands back to your face, "But I felt so disappointed and so... stupid," you let out a long breath, "When I saw him like that, I understood that it's not the first time he's done it and I also understood why he gave me so much attention that time in Brooklyn. And I gave him exactly what he wanted at the party and he didn't even make any effort," you place a sour look, "And who could tell him no? Of course no one."

Baela lets out a long breath, watching you sadly.

"Y/N...

"I was so naive. I should have known," you interrupt her, "He's very handsome and plays in a band, it was clear he had thousands of girls after him and now... he only wants me as a one-night stand, then he'll ignore me and I'm really not interested to go back to being just another one of the crowd."

"But..." Baela watches you intently and hopefully, "Are you sure about what you saw? Maybe you misunderstood."

"They went into the men's room together, Baela, just him and that girl," you tell her obviously, "And they didn't go in together to play cards, did they?"

Baela doesn't say anything more, she just lowers her gaze and seems to think, trying to find an explanation, when there is no clear explanation other than that. And just like you... she feels disappointed.

Aegon looks like that kind of guy, in fact he is that kind of guy, but Aemond? Even she didn't expect it, though she knows you're right, both and Rhaena as well should have known since he's absolutely handsome and can easily afford that.

And she has no idea how to defend him, so she totally understands your disappointment and that you now want to keep your distance, being the best thing, because that's what she would do too if she were in your place.

"So your love novel with the sexy guitarist is over?" she asks you sad and disappointed.

"Yeah," you mumble, "As handsome as he is, I'm not interested if things are going to be like this."

She lets out another long breath again, resigned.

"Fine, then we won't mention the sexy guitarist anymore."

You place a sad little smile.

"But at least you and Rhaena got lucky and the thing with Jace and Luke is serious."

"I wouldn't call it serious," she says thoughtfully, with a grimace, "I mean, we're not seeing anyone else but... yeah," she shrugs, "Things are getting there."

You feel happy for them, they know it, so you don't say anything else, neither does Baela and the two of you sink into a comfortable silence that is all over your apartment, while you stare at a specific spot in your living room, thinking about everything and yet nothing, while Baela continues to eat from your strawberries, also thoughtful and still feeling disappointed.

Then you start to think again about what you are going to prepare to eat and also what movies you will decide to watch, whether suspense, science fiction, love or massacre.

"Don't you want grapes?"

Baela asks you suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts, as you see how the bowl in her lap is already empty.

"I have some in my fridge. I can pay you with them for the strawberries."

You watch her slightly amused for a moment, then let out a small laugh and nod.

Unfortunately for you, your Friday night goes by fast, where all you did was stay in bed watching a movie marathon with Baela of love being the final decision, whether it was Me Before You, Love Rosie, Midnight Sun, Two Feet Apart, also Nerve and the first Maze Runner movie.

Until you wake up, it's Saturday, Baela is gone and you actually read her message telling you that she has returned to her apartment.

You stay in bed all morning, not really doing anything important, until you get up, take a shower, make yourself a meal and go back to bed with a bowl of chips, ready to continue with the next episode of Gossip Girl.

It's the third time you're re-watching the show but you don't care.

Then you fall asleep and when the sound of your phone wakes you up, you see through your windows all the dark sky, while everything inside your room is reflected by the light of the TV and also by the New York buildings that surround you with their light windows and give that so well known nocturnal characteristic of the city.

You let out a yawn, realizing that your nap has gone on too long when you turn on your phone screen and see that it is almost nine o'clock at night

You strain your eyes and watch more closely as Baela has texted you, as have some of your classmates, but it's the weekend and you don't want to worry about anything at school right now, so you read Baela's message.

baela🐬: are you sure you don't want to come?

You frown.

You: where are you?

And she replies back instantly.

baela🐬: at will's party

And she sends you a picture of her with Rhaena and Luke, while you distinguish Jace's figure a bit off in the background, preparing a drink, while there are colored lights and a bunch of other people, so you remember him and you also remember that he must be there too.

You: have fun

But as soon as you send the message, Baela reads it and quickly responds.

baela🐬: he's not here👀

And this immediately catches your attention, frowning again and then answering and waiting for an attentive response.

You: why not?

baela🐬: everyone came except him and daeron. jace said they both decided to stay home.

You watch with your narrowed eyes the message, questioning Baela's words and not quite believing her.

You: are you lying and this is one of your plans to get him and I to see each other?

baela🐬: 🙄

baela🐬: after what you told me do you think I would do that to you?

You press your lips together, as you let out a long breath, since she is right. Baela can be very insistent but when you finally make her understand that no is no, she stops.

You: send me the address

You say finally, having made up your mind, needing to go out and have fun after such a stressful week, as if all your weeks are not the same, and then you leave your phone on the bed and get up to get ready.

You take advantage of the fact that he's not there, because then you won't have to be worrying about being in the same place as him after what happened between the two of you and you can actually have fun.

From your closet you choose an all-black dress that fits your body perfectly, with straps and comes to mid-thigh. You decide to wear it with a pair of boots without a platform since you will get tired if you wear the high platform ones. (click here)

You discard one of your jackets as you know it won't be necessary in a crowd of people so you go on to do your make-up, this time putting on a matte flesh colored lipstick and leaving your hair straight with two strands together in the middle of your head.

Once you're ready, you call for an Uber, since Baela has taken the car and not long after, you find yourself entering the party.

You spot a few of your classmates as you enter the huge house, greeting them, greeting Baela's friends that she introduced you to and even crossing paths with Jason who is with Cregan and Alysanne.

You ask for your cousins and find them near the kitchen, each one talking to their respective boy, while on your way to them you meet Aegon, although he doesn't see you, as he is sticking his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl.

You watch him slightly surprised and amused by such a scene, until you finally reach your cousins.

Rhaena pulls you into a huge hug, instantly telling you that you look amazing with a smile, to which you also say the same, also to Baela, then greeting Jace and Luke, Jace quickly offering to make you a drink.

"Have you guys been here long?" you ask them over the music.

"Not long. About an hour ago," Rhaena answers you.

"So? What's the news?"

"Nothing new, you know," Baela tells you smiling, "We were actually thinking of playing beer pong."

"Oh, great. I want to play the first round," you say instantly, ready to start enjoying the party.

Just then Jace returns with your drink, you thank him and the five of you start setting up for the game, beginning first by playing one-on-one and then two-on-two.

Laughter and excitement invades the five of you every time the ball goes in or out of the red cups, having a good time, forgetting about the outside world for a while and enjoying these moments.

Other people at the party also join in to play, making it all even more fun, Rhaena already starting to get a little drunk, as are you, though not too much.

Then the five of you decide to go dancing along with all the other people, shouting, singing and enjoying all the songs while Rhaena records and takes some pictures, while you already start to feel the alcohol taking effect a bit more, letting you get more into the moment, really enjoying it.

Until you start to get a bit left over among the four of you as Baela starts to dance very close with Jace, both in their own world, also Rhaena with Luke, both still shy but getting more and more confident.

Still it doesn't bother you, you dance alone and even join in with another group of girls dancing nearby, singing with them.

You then accompany Rhaena along with Luke back to the kitchen to hydrate a bit, you also deciding to drink water this time because of how hot the house already feels, and then Baela and Jace join in as well, the five of them taking a break.

They both offer to prepare more drinks, while you go for your fourth beer, staying a moment alone with your cousins.

"So? Has anything happened between you and Luke yet?" you ask her interested, with a small smile.

And of course, Rhaena blushes and smiles shyly.

"We kissed."

"At Jason's party?"

"Yes and also a while ago," she tells you clearly controlling her excitement, "I don't know, I feel like we're going slow but sure."

"Better that than going fast," Baela tells her, nodding in her direction.

"You go fast with Jace," you tell her amused, laughing.

"That's not true," she gets indignant, "We've only kissed."

"Oh so you didn't take him to your apartment when Jason's party was over?" you inquire, expectantly.

Immediately she looks at Rhaena completely serious and more indignant than before.

"You were the gossip?"

"I didn't say anything!" she tells her instantly, "Besides it was obvious. I slept with Y/N because there was no way I was going to sleep on your couch to listen to your sounds."

You let out a huge laugh, as Baela reluctantly takes a sip from her beer bottle.

"Well, it's true, we're going fast but we've both been clear and know what we want."

"Thank God," you nod to her then let out a long breath, putting on your thoughtful face, excited and sad at the same time, "I admired you guys," you mumble, looking out into the beyond, "I would have wanted to have the same luck."

"Oh come on, don't say that," Rhaena tells you instantly with a soft look.

"Yeah, it wasn't like….

Start to say Baela too, but she stops mid-sentence, drawing her sister's attention and yours too, while you see how she stands watching behind you completely static, surprised and a bit fearful.

You exchange confused glances with Rhaena, who stares at her sister as if she is completely mad.

"What? What's wrong?"

She tells her but Baela doesn't react, so Rhaena also looks to where she's watching and her reaction is also the same, instantly looking surprised at who knows what, annoying you because they don't say anything.

"But what the hell is wrong with you guys?"

You inquire them without understanding, confused, to follow the same gaze as both of them, watching behind you and then… now you understand.

You part your lips and watch with your eyes wide open as Daeron and Aemond make their way through the entire party, instantly drawing everyone's attention, but more so the girls specifically, beginning to feel your heart start to beat fast as you watch them.

Incredulous and confused you don't understand anything, seeing how he is here, when he wasn't supposed to come, all the memories of that almost kiss and then the kiss invading your mind instantly, also the memory of his hips pressing against you.

Fuck.

That's all you can think of as you watch him, standing there, walking among all the people in that alluring way of his, as if he owned the whole place, yet with his unconcerned look and deliberately ignoring all the girls watching him interested.

Then you look again at your cousins, who look back at you still surprised.

"What is he doing here?"

You inquire, at that moment realizing the panic that begins to invade your whole body, since you were supposed to come here because he wouldn't be here.

"How should I know?" Baela tells you instantly, looking just as worried as you, "Jace said they weren't coming, that's why I texted you."

Still panicking, you go back to watching him, still being the center of attention along with Daeron, who smiles at everyone and looks more than willing to start having a good time, while you couldn't say the same for Aemond, but still he's here.

You look away, let out a huge sigh and take a huge gulp from your beer bottle, resigned.

Aemond.

Aemond has never felt more tired in his life.

Constantly moving from one side to the other for the tour, having five-hour rehearsals during the week and on weekends attending concerts along with the after party and finishing very late to be the same routine the next day, he doesn't find time to rest properly.

He sees how his brothers and his cousins, actually nephews, do everything, they look happy, like new and he... doesn't. Rather, he feels exhausted.

It's not that he doesn't like what he does, on the contrary, he loves playing guitar and giving a good show, but he wishes that's all it would be.

Criston, his manager, insists that he must spend time with the fans, since after all they are the reason why they are successful and can play their concerts, but he, not that he is ungrateful, in fact he does spend time with them… but to a certain point.

He can take pictures and sign his autograph in a pleased and calm way, also receive gifts like necklaces or bracelets from them, he really appreciates those gestures. But when the girls get too intense and start touching him, also invading his personal space too much… that's when the discomfort begins.

He understands that they feel very excited, but there are limits and many of them do not respect them by wanting to act as if they have known him all their lives and believe they have a certain right over him.

Also social media, if it were up to him, he wouldn't have it, he really doesn't like it and prefers the real world. But Criston insisted that he do it for the band, agreeing to at least have Instagram account.

He got used to it soon after by posting promotional photos, whether it was of a new single, a new music video or a new album, also from the tour. Then he only started posting behind-the-scenes photos of his brothers and nephews, also of the cities he was traveling to, but nothing else.

Also the invasion of his privacy by fans was something he didn't like at all, however, like his brothers and nephews, he had to learn to deal with it.

Sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if he had decided to go to college, definitely another story of his life would be, but honestly… he can't imagine himself not being this, a musician.

However, he didn't think that following Aegon's idea about forming a band would be so heavy and bring so much questioning about his life and what he does.

At least the tour ends in New York after having traveled half the country, where his mother and family live, also where he has his own apartment, just like Aegon.

And the first two concerts are in Queens, then they will play in three different clubs in Brooklyn and finally they will play two more concerts in Manhattan.

There is nothing new, only the public reacts differently when the dates of the last concerts start, Queens actually being very quiet and more pleasant for him, but not for Aegon, who complained about the lack of excitement from the fans and that the girls practically didn't jump on him.

And of course, Jace and Daeron had to agree with him.

Then Brooklyn, the first concert being exactly what Aegon expected, all the girls screaming, lots of energy in the audience and on stage, lots of noise and a whole scandal.

And the second concert is the same, until finally something interesting happens at the after party when he almost makes that fan lose her balance and doesn't jump the second she sees him walk out of that room, being you.

Aemond was so used to any girl practically jumping on him and doing everything to get his attention, but not you. And he knew because you're not really a fan.

But still, you surprised him by the way you are.

He was surprised that you were somehow understandable to him to be hiding from the fans for a while and that you didn't judge him, also that you weren't playing dumb to get his attention, that you didn't instantly react to him after he decided to push you a little, you just were honest at all times and gave him his space.

And you got his attention a lot in just a matter of moments. And Aemond in that instant knew… he wanted, no, he needed to see you again.

He had never given free tickets to anyone before, you just happened to be an exception, in fact he didn't have permission to do that, but he didn't care and luckily no one noticed, least of all Criston.

He really wanted you to take something from the concert back home, so he genuinely didn't make you both go into that room to take advantage of the fact that you were both alone and get something more from you, no, he really did it out of kindness.

But as the seconds passed and the conversation extended, he couldn't help but think what it would feel like to kiss you, to feel you, to touch you. And when he saw that you also began to respond in the same way, that's when he decided to make the move.

It would have happened, had it not been for Aegon, of course.

After you thanked him and left embarrassed, Aegon gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder, telling him that had he known, he wouldn't have interrupted him, but that Criston was going to go mad if he didn't go out and talk to the fans.

In the days that followed he never stopped thinking about you, much less when he found out that Jace and Luke were texting your cousins, so he was looking forward, even if he didn't realize it, to the concert in Manhattan.

But what a great disappointment he felt when he saw your cousins, but not you.

Originally he didn't plan to find out what had happened to you, but when he was at the bar with your cousins, he couldn't contain himself any longer and asked them both where you were.

After that, the stress came back.

With the last concert coming up, the whole band had to rehearse longer hours than usual every day until the day of the concert, Aegon insisting that he wanted everything to be perfect, following Criston's idea, as it had to be unforgettable.

They were going to take a break for a month, then they would play more concerts in New York and in the closest surrounding areas of the state such as Pennsylvania, Maryland, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts.

Aemond tried not to think about you anymore, because after you didn't go to the concert, he began to understand that he would probably never see you again.

Then the last concert started and all the pressure he had on him he felt more at that moment, knowing perfectly well that he couldn't make a mistake, focusing all the time on his notes and especially on his solos.

He couldn't relax, not even with the cigarette, keeping in mind that after this he would have to focus on the fans, when all he wanted was to finally rest and not worry about more concerts, feeling very tired.

That's why he did what he did.

After spending only a few minutes with the fans, returning to the room, he had to leave almost immediately on Criston's orders, but on his way out he saw a very excited fan already at the door asking him for a picture.

It was enough to observe her from head to toe and then tell her to follow him, going directly to the men's room where the girl did not even ask a question since it was quite clear the intention and she did not say no either.

When was the last time he had done this? At the last concert in Portland, Oregon.

He knew Aegon did it too, but he wasn't more frequent than he was, since he only did it when he felt the need too much due to stress and frustration, as in those moments.

He fucked her from behind, fast and hard, not needing foreplay as she was completely wet. He didn't touch her except from the waist and nothing else, she wanted to kiss him and touch him but he didn't let her. He just needed to release.

Neither of them needed to take off their clothes either, she had a skirt on and that made everything faster, just like he wanted. Then he came out of the bathroom first after cleaning up, telling the girl to get out of here without anyone seeing her, to go back to the center of the pub, where he met Aegon.

When then he saw you.

Surprise came over him completely, definitely not expecting to see you, barely realizing that you had seen the concert and that you had been here the whole time.

And after you made no move to approach him, completely ignoring his gaze on you and also as if he wasn't in the same place as you, he understood that you knew what he had done.

You had seen him and he couldn't help but get more frustrated about it.

The boys had mentioned a party, Jace most of all, saying that Baela, your cousin, had invited them. He had from the beginning thought about not going and in fact wasn't going to, but after seeing you… he decided to join in as well.

Throughout the party it became clearer to him that you had definitely seen him and so you continued to ignore him, which made him frustrated but he also understood you.

However, had he known you were there, the first thing he would have done was to try to get close to you and what he did with that girl he would never have considered.

Until finally things turn out in his favor on that balcony.

From the beginning he told himself that he wasn't going to ruin this opportunity to talk to you by being left alone and that he wasn't going to bring up the subject so as not to make you feel uncomfortable by his actions… unless you decided to talk about it.

And he thought the two of you would just talk and nothing more, but the moment he started testing the waters just out of curiosity and also because he wanted to, of course, you started responding in the same way, just like in Brooklyn and he felt very lucky to finally feel your lips against his.

What came next was not intentional, but his emotions began to make him let himself go and you were very responsive at all times to his touch, only driving him crazier.

He enjoyed the moment and very much, loving every second of it, of feeling your lips, your body, your hands on his face and neck, everything, only leaving him wanting more when the moment was interrupted.

But you looked absolutely beautiful with that look of desire, your red, swollen lips, watching him with that slight glow in your eyes, the lights of the huge buildings illuminating both of them, you.

And Aemond at that moment only felt more the need to see you again.

Unfortunately nothing more happened between you and him that night, both of you couldn't be together anymore because afterwards Luke and Daeron started feeling sick from all the drinking, Daeron especially started throwing up in the bathroom and could barely stand up by himself.

Aemond had to take care of him and they left the party.

Afterwards neither he nor you tried to communicate after what happened, he mostly didn't do it so as not to overwhelm you and not to make you feel pressured, so he preferred to give you your space until you had processed what happened and that you wouldn't consider him an intense for wanting to see you again.

But how he wanted to see you again and he understood that he wouldn't until his nephews and your cousins planned something. However, when Jace told them about a frat party, he told you that Baela didn't mention you when he asked her with whom she was going.

So he decided not to go and went to visit his mother, who has her own apartment also on the Upper East Side and Daeron lives with her, however, because his little brother was grounded after his mother saw him in that state last time, he managed to convince her to lift his grounding.

And now they're both there, in the living room, as their mother prepares to go to a dinner party for her work and Daeron insists that he take him to that party.

"We won't say anything to Mom, she says I'm still too young to go to frat parties."

"And she's right," he replies, disinterested.

"Oh come on, the party last time was a frat party."

"It was in an apartment, not a house," he clarifies.

"But it was still a college party!"

"Then you must not have had too much to drink and that's why I don't want to go to this party if I'm going to have to babysit you afterwards," he tells him seriously.

"Oh, what a bullshit," he tells him indignantly, "We both know and in fact everyone knows that you don't want to go to that party because your girl from the other night won't go."

"Keep messing with me and I'm not taking you to any more parties," he warns him.

"But you don't want to take me to this one!" he tells him again indignantly, "Come on dude, I really want to go."

"Then go," he says confused, "I don't understand why you want me to go with you."

"And how am I supposed to go by myself? Flying?"

He lets out a long breath, starting to get irritated.

"I already told you no, Daeron."

"Please."

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"But…

"No."

"Dude…

"No."

"Let's go to the party and I won't tell Criston that you gave free tickets to that girl and Jace and Luke's girls."

Then Aemond's gaze immediately refocuses on Daeron, who crosses his arms and watches him expectantly, completely serious and more than willing with his threat.

"The others didn't notice but I did," he lets him know, smiling with superiority, "Those tickets were for some friends of Criston's and he asked me to take them to him. And what a coincidence that they were gone right after you and Aegon left the room."

"It could have been Aegon," he tells her serious.

"Aegon loses his own things because he doesn't remember where he put them and you think he's going to know where those tickets were kept?" he asks her confused.

Aemond lets out a long sigh, as he looks away from him, looking clearly annoyed.

"You fucking little demon."

Reader.

The bottle game and seven minutes in paradise.

That's what everyone wants to play, being Baela's idea mainly, while she insists you to join, telling you it will be fun, while all the participants, Cregan, Jason, Alysanne, Rhaena, Luke and Jace of course, also the leader of the fraternity and Baela's friend William, wait in his room.

But you really don't like that game, the last time you played that, already many months ago also at a party, it wasn't very nice.

"Come on," Baela insists you pleadingly for what you think is the eleventh time.

"I told you, I'll be there with you but I'm not going to play," you tell her tired.

"That's not the point. You have to play, come on," she insists again.

"Baela," you look at her irritated.

"And I promise I won't sneak back into your apartment. Let alone steal food from you again," she says instantly, hopefully.

And at this you raise one of your eyebrows in her direction, expectantly.

"And will you give me the copy you clandestinely took from my key?"

She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. It's at my house, I'll give it to you later."

"Are you sure about that?" you inquire with an obvious look.

At this she doesn't say or do anything to you, as you point to her bag with your gaze and then extend your hand, gesturing to her with your fingers, clearly waiting, while Baela is left with no other choice.

She lets out a resigned and irritated sigh, then reluctantly from her purse she pulls out the key to your apartment, handing it to you in the same manner.

"There. Happy?"

You smile pleased, putting it in your purse.

"Yes, very," you tease.

"Okay, now come on," she insists, taking you by the arm.

"Wait, the brownie."

You head over to the island in the huge kitchen, grabbing a brownie from a clear box right there.

"You're really going to eat that?" she asks you curiously, with a small smile, as she crosses her arms.

"It's not for me, it's…

"Hello ladies!"

Three platinum heads approach you, this immediately catching your attention, feeling incredibly nervous the second you see it's Aemond, already watching you.

You bite your lips and avert your gaze instantly, trying not to look nervous and not letting those thoughts from before invade you, focusing on Aegon and Daeron, but Aegon more so since he pretty much always speaks for everyone.

"Y/N!" he exclaims in surprise, with a huge grin, "I hadn't seen you. I thought you hadn't come."

"You were busy when I arrived," you tell him with a nervous little smile.

"I was?" he says confused and you nod, "I don't remember. Anyway, what are you two doing? My little cousins weren't with you?"

"They're upstairs, we're going to play spin the bottle and seven minutes in paradise, do you want to join?"

Baela asks them instantly, turning to the three of them with a smile, while you quickly look at her almost wanting to murder her at that moment, but you stay neutral and wait for him to say no.

"Yeah, sure," Daeron says instantly.

"I'm in," Aegon assures you as well, sliding over to you, pointing his index finger at the brownie in your hand, "Are you going to eat that? Because it's calling me."

"They're of weed," you clarify to him.

"Weed?" he repeats in surprise, "Wow Y/N, I didn't think you were that kind of girl," he tells you as he crosses his arms and watches you with a half smile.

"It's not for me, it's for Cregan, he asked for it," you tell him amused.

"Cregan?" he instantly inquires, "Cregan Stark, my man? He's here too?"

"I thought you saw him when you arrived," Baela tells her confused, "He's up there too, he's going to play with us."

"And why didn't you say that before? Then let's go!" he says instantly, grabbing Daeron by the shoulder and starting to hurry out of the kitchen towards the stairs, when he stops to turn back to you, "Give it to me, I'll give it to him," he takes the brownie from your hand and resumes his walk, "Hurry up," he urges you all, then asks Baela which room exactly everyone is in.

You watch as Aemond nonchalantly follows them, for which you curse internally, since you thought he wouldn't participate in this, he doesn't seem like the type of guy who chooses to play those kinds of games, but you have no choice.

Once you reach William's room, which is gigantic, Baela announces that she has found more players and everyone starts to take a seat on the couches, while you watch as Aegon greets Cregan very happily and he greets him as well, as if the two haven't seen each other in years, handing him the brownie.

Then Rhaena stands in the center, empty bottle in hand, setting it down on top of a small table that is also in the center.

"Well, I think we all know how this is played by now."

"Are there any rules?" asks Jace.

"Of course there are, without them this wouldn't be fun."

You let out a long sigh, looking away, already wanting to get out of here.

"We made a deal," Baela suddenly says to you, instantly, quietly and as if she had read your thoughts.

"I know," you mutter back, watching her irritated.

But she smiles happily and you all turn your attention to Rhaena.

"This will be truth or dare, if you choose dare it will be to go in with someone in the bathroom who will also choose the bottle for seven minutes. If you want to do your dirty things, we will play loud music and turn it off when the seven minutes are up," she makes it clear, "The thing is, you have three lives, so to speak. If you choose true every time the bottle points at you, by the fourth time it will be dare."

"Understood."

"And no one can cheat or refuse," your cousin makes clear.

"This is like the mafia, once you're in, you don't get out," Aegon says.

You stir uncomfortably, avoiding looking at a certain person in front of you, because you perfectly feel his stare on you, making you feel nervous but not only because of that, also because you're both here, playing games.

What are the chances that you will have to fulfill the dare with Aemond?

You probably would have wanted it before, but now that you've made your decision, you continue to stand firm with it, really not wanting such a thing to happen or you won't have the slightest idea what to do.

The circle starts at one corner with Aegon, then Cregan, Alysanne, Rhaena, Aemond, Daeron, Luke, then Jace, Baela, you, Jason, William and then two of William's friends that you don't know.

Then Rhaena spins the bottle and the game begins.

First everyone chooses truth, starting cool, so it's their turn to answer questions such as; "the craziest place you've ever had sex," "your favorite position," "at what age did you lose your virginity," "do you have a fetish or any sexual preference," "have you ever been or had a friend with benefits," "have you ever faked an orgasm, "have you ever participated in a threesome?"

Those and more sexual and uncomfortable questions are asked.

So far, the bottle has not pointed to you, nor to Baela, nor to Aemond nor to Luke.

Until Cregan is the first to dare to say dare, then the bottle points at Alysanne, to the surprise of many who know that there is something more between them than just a friendship, as they always say.

As Rhaena said, William plays music on his Alexa at full volume or at least loud enough for no one to hear anything. And you again try to ignore Aemond's gaze on you as you talk to Jason next to you.

Then the seven minutes are up and when they both come out of the bathroom, they look presentable, but everyone instantly mocks and Alysanne embarrasses herself, giving herself away.

The game goes on and Aegon also dares in saying dare and the bottle is pointed at one of William's friends. And when the seven minutes are up, Aegon doesn't even bother to dissimulate that something definitely happened between them.

When then the bottle points at you, making everyone in the circle watch you and luckily you still have your three lives.

And who will ask you? Unfortunately Aegon.

"Have you ever kissed any of us here?"

Fuck.

You curse internally again, while everyone watches you attentively and more than interested, except Baela, Rhaena and of course him, because they already know.

You sense that Aegon knows too, though maybe Daeron, Jace and Luke don't, but who knows. So there's no point in lying, much less when that person is here.

Inevitably you watch him for a few short seconds, seeing how he watches you intently, bringing the beer bottle to his lips without taking his gaze away from you, looking so sexy.

No, don't think that!

"Yes," you say casually, lowering your gaze.

"Who?" asks Cregan, interested and with a smile.

"Just a question," Baela jumps to your rescue.

"Oh come on, you're just leaving us with the intrigue," he complains indignantly.

The bottle spins again, feeling more of Aemond's gaze on you, but you don't return it, when it's Daeron's turn to do the dare and he enters the bathroom with the same girl who entered with Aegon earlier, only when they both come out, you notice nothing happened.

Then the bottle points at Jace, having to do the dare as well, but the bottle points at Jason and everyone laughs, so with no choice, they both go into the bathroom together and when the seven minutes are up, they both pretend to wipe the saliva off their lips.

It's not until later that it's Baela's turn to meet the challenge and Jace finally gets his wish to go into the bathroom with her. Then it's William's other friend's turn to do the dare and the bottle points at Luke.

It is clear that when they both leave the bathroom, nothing happened and so the game continues, until luck has its way and it is Daeron's turn to go into the bathroom with the same girl Luke went in with, then Luke goes in with Rhaena and then it is William's turn to go in with you.

Nothing happens, they both just talk, not being at all awkward, as he is actually very nice, but still when they both come out, most of them make teasing and he clarifies that nothing happened, while all the time you feel the burning gaze of him.

Then Rhaena spins the bottle again and it finally lands on Aemond, with Alysanne being the one to ask him.

"Which of us here would you kiss?"

You lower your gaze instantly, biting your lips, not daring to look at him, not having the slightest idea why but you don't understand why the questions are precisely about kissing just when he and you have already kissed.

Aemond's answer is not immediately heard and you continue to stare at your lap, while everyone else around you watches him attentively and expectantly, wanting to hear his answer, when you feel his penetrating gaze on you.

Honestly you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't say your name, maybe he would want to save you both embarrassment and you would understand perfectly if he says the name of some of William's friends. Besides, the kiss has already happened, you find no reason why he-.

"Y/N."

In an instant you raise your gaze towards him, your breath catching at that moment, causing the little giggles and looks of surprise from everyone in silence, even from your cousins, definitely not expecting that, while you continue to watch him attentively, not having expected that either.

But he continues to stand firm with his answer, which in fact he said it completely nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal to hide, being honest and direct without any problem.

He takes his last sip from his beer bottle, watching you back, just as attentive as you are, only making you feel more surprised and nervous, not having the slightest idea how to react.

You look away from him, when Aegon says to continue, breaking the moment but still feeling the tension.

As the game continues, no one has a chance to avoid the dare anymore, neither do you and Aemond, where fortunately nothing more happened between the two of you. Until the bottle again points to Aemond, but now he must do the dare.

Rhaena spins the bottle and just as it begins to slow down, everyone sees it point at the girl Daeron had entered with earlier.

With a disinterested and even bored look, Aemond without much emotion gets up and heads to the bathroom, with the girl following him instantly, while Baela gives you a look but you continue as usual, when inside you are very attentive.

You don't know exactly how you feel as the seven minutes begin, but you continue to act normal, feeling Aegon's gaze on you as well.

When the time ends and Aemond opens the door the second William stops the music, walking out of there with the girl walking out behind him, looking a bit… disappointed?

And sure enough, nothing happened between the two of them, causing Baela to give you a gentle, sly nudge, while you continue to act nonchalant, when in fact you occasionally watch Aemond intently.

"This is the last round," Rhaena warns, "We all have to point the bottle and do the dare one last time. Whoever you have already pointed at, will go out of the circle so that the bottle will point at those who have not yet."

"Sounds perfect to me," says Aegon, visibly excited, "I want my turn with Cregan."

"Hey!"

Everyone laughs, as Cregan gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder, as you both laugh and look amused, and then Rhaena spins the bottle and officially starts the last round.

You thought you would have a little more time, however, everyone watches perfectly as the bottle slowly points in your direction, while you let out a long breath and Rhaena excitedly spins it again to see who you will get to enter the bathroom with.

What are the chances that you will have to fulfill the dare with Aemond?

You had wondered before and at that moment you realize that the chances were very high, since the bottle is pointing at him.

The others don't even give you time to react, they quickly insist you get up, as well as him, all looking very excited and unable to wait, so very soon, you already find yourself entering the bathroom while Aemond closes the door behind him.

Holy shit.

You think, feeling completely nervous, as you lean back against the hand wash and he leans against the wall in front of you to hear the music out there playing perfectly.

He watches you, but you don't look back at him, feeling very nervous and also very embarrassed after what happened out there and not only because of the questions you both were asked, but also because of the kiss.

How am I supposed to act with him after that happened?

You wonder, nervous and stirring in your place, feeling the bathroom too small and his gaze on you making you feel hot already and the seven minutes have barely started.

This whole not having anything to do with him thing is definitely not working for you. And just like last time, he's the first to break the silence between the two of you.

"Did I do something wrong?"

And this immediately catches your attention, watching him instantly, while he is already watching you between attentive and curious, trying not to let his gaze make you even more nervous.

"What?" you say confused, "No."

"Then why are you acting like I'm not in the same place as you?"

Shit.

You think, definitely feeling more nervous, unable to help yourself.

"No," you shake your head, "No, I-I don't….

"Is it because of the kiss?"

You look at him slightly surprised, parting your lips, also not expecting him to ask you that with such a naturally and casually, realizing how incredibly direct he is, getting straight to the point.

And you don't know if that terrifies you or you like it more.

But you can't answer, you're too nervous, he makes you too nervous and you don't want to tell him yes, that's why and also because you don't want to be another girl of the crowd, but you can't lie to him either, even if you wanted to you can't think of anything.

Being in these circumstances with him does not help you at all.

When he sees that you don't answer him anything, he takes a step towards you, letting out a sigh and you immediately look at him alert, nervous and try to take more distance between you, feeling like your heart will jump out of your chest at any moment.

And he notices all this, confused by your behavior.

"What? What's wrong?" he asks you softly and attentive, "Are you afraid of me?"

You lower your gaze, biting the inside of your cheek, nervous and thoughtful, wanting to end this once and for all, telling yourself that you better be honest and direct with him, too, now, just as he is being honest and direct with you.

And finally you tell him, in a low voice, without looking at him.

"I don't want to be another one of your girls in the crowd, Aemond."

He looks at you slightly surprised, his lips parted, definitely not expecting that, creating again that silence between the two of you, while you continue with your gaze down and he doesn't know what to say to you, for the first time being at a loss for words.

He understands what you're implying, about him and that girl at the after party, but what he didn't expect was to hear those words from you.

And you, plucking up your courage, watch him and decide to explain further.

"I saw you at the after party of your last concert with that girl," you tell him softly and with a certain disappointed tone, "That's why I didn't try to approach you that night after understanding that that's what you're looking for from me."

He opens his mouth instantly to retort, but you continue speaking, wanting to make everything clear to him.

"Until the balcony thing happened at Jason's party and…. I don't regret it," you clarify, "But I feel like it shouldn't have happened," you look at him nervous, "I-I don't want to be another one-night stand girl that you throw away, ignore and forget about, I… I'm not looking for that," you deny, "It feels awful."

Aemond continues to watch you attentively, without you and him saying anything else, that silence returning, when he lets out another sigh and you are alerted when he moves closer to you again, this time completely shortening the distance between the two of you.

And you watch intently and nervously as he places both hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, closing his eye and resting his forehead with yours, making you melt under his touch but not enough to allow it.

"Aemond," you call him softly, gently trying to pull away from him.

"Listen to me," he says softly, not pulling away and tightening his grip on your waist.

You stop putting up resistance, watching him completely attentively, as he takes a moment before speaking, enjoying your closeness, which is all he's thought about since that kiss happened.

"I'm sorry you saw me that way," he tells you sincerely, "Had I known you were there, I wouldn't have done it."

You can't help but feel absurd.

"Oh come on."

"I mean it," he tells you instantly, insistent, "I know it's not justification but I thought I'd never see you again, it's not like I do it every day either, I promise," he assures you, "But ever since that kiss happened… I haven't stopped thinking about you Y/N, not for a second," he confesses to you, "Even you were the reason I decided to play this shit, just so I could be close to you."

Oh no, you're already falling.

Your mind says to you, as you give him your full attention.

"But I'm not…

"You won't be," he interrupts you, firm, "You won't be just another one of the crowd. Believe me that was never my intention since I met you."

You swallow hard, still watching him not entirely convinced.

"And how am I supposed to believe that?"

"Let me prove it to you," he tells you instantly, willing, "Stop ignoring me, start talking to me and you'll see."

He says to then raise one of his hands, place it on your cheek gently and lean in to kiss you.

taglist fic:

@melsunshine @fan-goddess @toodlesxcuddles @helaenaluvr @at-a-rax-ia @iloveallmyboys @nockerin @manonmccrory @tsujifreya @persephonerinyes @happinessinthebeing @zenka69 @diannnnsss @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gloryekaterina @strangersunghoon @ttkttt

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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creedslove · 2 years ago

Text

BETRAYED - CHAPTER SEVEN (SPECIAL EDITION)

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, a little bit of fluff

A/N: PLEASE ATTENTION

As I said in a previous post, I had two plot lines to follow in this story and I couldn't make up my mind which one would be better. I asked help from a friend and though she helped me choose, I just wasn't feeling the story so I decided to write the two versions and let you all decide which one you prefer. The thing is, I woke up feeling exhausted and in a bad mood, I wanted to write to help me process my feelings but it turned out pure shit but I don't have enough energy to try and write it better, so you all get ready because this is not my best work.

Basically, you will read two drabbles that will take the story to different turns and at the end all you have to do is vote :D

A/N part 2: I still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!

1.8k words

FIRST VERSION

After Pedro made sure Liev had left your house for good and locked all the doors just in case, you finally allowed yourself to cry. You felt such a turmoil of feelings within and it all clawed your throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. You hugged yourself as you sat down heavily onto the couch, trying to process what had happened.

You shook your head, your eyes closed shut as you wanted to undo things. If you could turn back in time, you'd do things so differently.

Pedro returned to the living room, immediately rushing to you and wrapping his arms around your body. He had washed his face and now the blood had been wiped off, you could see his face hadn't been damaged apart from a darkening bruise under his eye. He rubbed your back in a comforting way, lifting your chin up and staring into your eyes with worry.

"It's alright, cariño, things will be fine" he tried reassuring you, his hand finding yours and holding it tight. "I'll make sure you're safe, princesa"

"Nothing will be fine, Pedro. Don't you fucking understand it? You ruined everything once again!" You couldn't control yourself and simply shouted at him, letting all the anger and confusion slip out of your tongue, even if you weren't sure if he was guilty or not. Surely he was, but it wasn't just about that, and you knew it. You were lost and you had nowhere to turn.

He frowned and bit his lips, clearing his throat "Y/N, I know you're scared and confused about everything that happened, but I'm here for you, he won't bother you again" he assured you but you were unable to hold back things any longer.

"It is not all about you, Pedro. I know you got your head far up in your ass now that you are such a big star and how your ego is all the time well-fed by all the attention you got from the world, but not every single thing that goes on in my life is about you, Pedro. I had made things clear, I had told you I didn't want you, and you came here, you made that scene in front of Liev and now he hates me!" You said angrily.

"Are you telling me that after he threatened to beat you up, you're worried about him? Worried about his reaction? You told me you weren't even his girlfriend, why is it so important to you?" He asked angrily at how weird you were acting.

You bit your lips, trying to hold the news but you couldn't any longer. You had to let it out, your heart ached for some kind of comfort, some relief after keeping such a secret. Blinking away your tears, you looked at him.

"Because I'm pregnant, Pedro!!!" You raised your voice once more.

•••

Pedro felt as if time had stopped for a moment. He had heard your words, he had comprehended them, but it still didn't feel real. He tried processing it several times, but it didn't seem true to him. He was silent for a couple of minutes, and didn't dare say anything at first.

He noticed his mouth was dry and you sort of waited for an answer. He scratched the back of his neck and carefully chose his words.

"I'm guessing the baby's Liev's… and that was what that dinner was about, correct?" He saw you nodding and continued "and I assume it wasn't planned…"

You finally gathered some courage to speak and nodded "of course it wasn't, but I got sick about a month ago, got some really strong antibiotics and somehow they messed up with the effect of my birth control" you cried "and now you fucked up everything because he walked on us and of course he will never believe the baby is his. I mean, I don't even know if I'll keep the baby in the first place but still, I don't expect you to understand, you never wanted a family of your own-" you stopped yourself, realizing you were snapping at him, remembering how delicate the subject had been to him the time you had your argument. You swallowed hard and sighed "all I'm trying to say is that I don't know what to do, I'm lost and alone"

Pedro immediately softened up, he completely ignored some of your harsh words and sat closer to you. He kissed your temple and rubbed your arms

"You're not alone, Y/N" he said gently "I get that you are terrified, especially after Liev's reaction, I think you should follow your heart and decide what to do with the baby, I'll support you, but if you decide to keep it, I'll be by your side as a friend…" he said and felt his heart burning in his chest at the mere thought of all the dreams he's had about you and him having a family together, the ones he always thought that would never come true, but now, destiny being a bitch, seemed to offer him on a silver plate.

"... Or I can be by your side as the father, for the two of you" he gently placed his hand on your stomach, leaving you speechless.

SECOND VERSION

You looked at Pedro while he focused on the drive home, you were tightening your jaw, still unbelievably pissed at everything that happened. That happened because of him, by the way.

The way Liev stormed out of your home after punching Pedro a couple of times when he walked on you two. You hated yourself for not resisting him, but how could you? Yes, he was a dick, he had broken your heart but he had showered you in all those stupid love words, which you never believed in, but when he shot you those puppy eyes and you felt your body against his, it was so damn impossible to fight back. If you concentrated hard enough, you could still feel parts of your body tingling, a longing sensation on your lower stomach, the warmth and that funny pressure on your core. Pedro was addictive and you were afraid of letting yourself go.

If such a scene hadn't happened, you could've just told him to go home, and preferably reminded him to never come back into your life, but after how violent things got with Liev, you agreed maybe it would be safer to spend the night at Pedro's.

You weren't in love with Liev but you two were having a pretty nice affair, it was satisfying on both ends and you guys were having fun. If once again, weren't for Pedro's intermission, you would've had some nice dinner and would end up in bed. Of course, you could also end up in Pedro's bed, but no matter how much your physical side ached for it, you wouldn't give in, he was still the same guy who left you in the middle of a party to go home by yourself so he could have his way with some skank. And he was still the same guy who got you going in a makeout session that earned you the end of your affair and a threat.

But then, you looked at Pedro, the way he drove focused, though you could see his face already bruising. Even if he'd cleaned up the blood, you knew that wouldn't look very good in the morning.

"C-can we stop?" You asked him, breaking the silence as you pointed at the drive-thru burger place just a few meters away.

He raised his eyebrow, letting a small groan of pain "really? Are you hungry, Y/N?" He asked and you groaned in response, not caring at all

"You ruined my dinner, it's the least you can do" you gritted your teeth, though you didn't want to admit the whole reason why you wanted to make that stop wasn't the burger nor the fries, you were actually thinking of the extra portion of ice you ordered. And as soon as you got it, you got your jacket out, poured the ice on your sleeve and made a very lame ice pad, but it was the only thing you could do. You gently placed it on Pedro's face, listening to his ounce of pain and couldn't help but let out a chuckle, which didn't go unnoticed by the man.

"What's so funny?" He asked, feeling a little annoyed.

"You sound just like a kid, come on Pedrito, you're stronger than that" you couldn't help yourself but let out another chuckle and feel surprise to see him smiling as well.

"You're right, mariposa, I should take it like a man, just like I did to protect you and I would do it a hundred times more" he extended his arm and took some stranded hair off your face. The man went serious again and looked at you "I'm sorry, I really am. I know I fucked things up for you, I couldn't control myself when I found your little card, it moved me, it made me believe you still had feelings for me, but I don't regret doing what I did, as I will have another thing to cherish about you for the rest of my life, and that at least we know that guy isn't good enough for you" he honestly said it.

"I mean, I know you think I'm not good for you either, but now you can see you deserve better, princesa" he said and leaned in, kissing your lips one last time again. He gently took your hands off his face and started the car, driving home.

You spent the rest of the trip quiet, your heart tightening in your chest as you replayed this last moment with you, there were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many times you wished you'd just think to hell with everything else and surrender to your passion, but you stopped yourself. You had to be strong.

You trusted your gut, and it always told you to be wary of Pedro, things had never been easy between the two of you, why would it start being easy now?

You knew you'd taken the correct decision when you both got inside and you found the skank from the gala sitting on his couch. She didn't look that great without her attire and scandalous makeup on, but you could see the appeal why a man would want her.

You immediately went serious and stared at Pedro, who seemed confused as well.

"Well, you never called, never replied to my texts, so I had to come over, Pedro," the woman said before either of you could do it.

"Listen, Melissa, we don't have anything going on, it was a one time thing, and it's over…" he stopped mid sentence the moment Melissa got up and took off her coat.

Her round bump was visible thanks to the very tight sweater she was wearing.

"Oh yeah? Well, you should've thought of that before using me as a cum dumpster, Pedro, because I'm pregnant"

_____

A/N: now it's your turn to choose: which plot do you want in the story? As the rest will be written accordingly.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #javier peña #javier pena #joel miller

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