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#do not kill your cringe kill the part that cringes or whatever
thatscribblingrat · 4 months
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i made something entirely for fun and i enjoyed every second!! text based rp is probably the hobby i spend the most time on, and i love multifandom rp especially the most. i'd love to do some more in depth zines on the subject, but this one is a silly one, just for funsies.
you can download this zine, including the fun inner page we designed for the print version with actual quotes from our actual rps on Itch.io or Ko-fi ... and support me making good fun art for fun!!!
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sonknuxadow · 2 years
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sorry if this comes off as mean but whenever people make horror inspired sonic content where the characters who arent particularly evil or scary in canon are the source of the horror i struggle to take it seriously and i just dont get the appeal at all. "what if sonic was a murderer" "what if tails was an evil scientist who tortured people" "what if amy was a yandere" what if they were all just fuzzy little animals who are best friends huh. ever considered that
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skzdarlings · 2 years
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05. sharing a bed series ; skz ; han
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 5/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: han jisung/reader content info: dom!reader. sub!jisung. sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. past misunderstandings, grudges, bickering. femdom feat: face slapping, face sitting, hair pulling, choking, riding, denial-n-cumming-anyway, kneeling, more pussy eating. this one is a little longer. teehee :)
-
“Hey, I hope you had a good flight…”
Chan’s voice message crackles through your phone speaker but you can barely hear him over the bustling airport. You wait until you are outside in the pick-up zone to try listening again.  It is marginally quieter out here, cars coming and going, light snowfall brightening the winter night.  With your luggage at your feet, you replay his voice mail. 
“Hey, I hope you had a good flight.  Something came up at work and I’m not gonna be able to pick you up.  I’m really sorry ‘bout it, mate.  Jisung is on his way to get you.  I know, I know, but he’ll get you home, yeah?  If you’re still mad tomorrow, I’ll take you to lunch and you can kill me there.  Buh-byyeeeee!”   
Oh, that son of a bitch. 
The message ends just as a pair of headlights flash over you.  You can see through the front window but despite the direct eye contact Jisung still feels the need the honk the horn not once, not twice, but three times. 
You stand there with your arms hanging helplessly at your sides.  Snow falls on your head and a frown darkens your whole face.  Jisung just smiles and waves like an idiot, honking the horn again. 
I am going to kill Chan, you think to yourself. 
Jisung loves putting you in situations where you are the unrepentant supervillain of his life, so ignoring him and getting in a cab would just play into his horrible little hands.  He might look unassuming in his puffy coat and backwards cap, might look soft and friendly with his fair hair and plushy pink smile, might look innocent with his big brown eyes peering at you with cartoonishly saccharine enthusiasm, but in reality none of that is true. 
Han Jisung is the worst. 
Han Jisung is your nemesis. 
Han Jisung honks the horn again.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you shout.  You roll your eyes and heft your luggage over your shoulder, stomping with an incredible degree of petulance for a woman of your age.  You toss your bag in the trunk then slide into the passenger seat. 
Jisung honks again. 
“Hello, hello, welcome to Flight H.A.N with Jisung airlines, this is your pilot speaking—”
You turn on the radio to shut him up.  You are not in the mood for his shenanigans. 
Jisung cringes with theatrical chagrin.   
“Yikes,” he says with a bubbly laugh.  “Tough crowd.”
“Just drive.”  
“Yes, mistress, right away, mistress, Jisung lives to serve his mistress, please don’t hurt Jisung or leave him out in the cold tonight—”
You thunk your head against the headrest, glaring ahead as Jisung smoothly joins the traffic flow despite his nonsensical rambling. 
You vaguely remember a time when Jisung was shy, back before he made it his life mission to send you hurtling into an annoyance-induced death.  You also vaguely remember a time you liked him, him and his quietness, him and his quirky humour, him and his big, stupid, brown eyes. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
Jisung sings along with the radio so you flip the station to one with talking.   He strums his fingers on the steering wheel, lips pursed and eyebrows lifted.  He casts you a few side glances that you pointedly ignore.   When you see him open his mouth, you hold up a finger. 
“Do not even think about it,” you say.  “Whatever you were about to say or do… Don’t.”
He presses his lips together and makes an obnoxiously loud pop.
“Kk,” he says.  “This should be a fun half hour.”
The airport is outside of the city, a half-hour drive to your downtown apartment.  Usually.  The weather has traffic horrifically backed up.  Half an hour comes and goes and you are barely out of view of the airport. 
“We could play a game,” Jisung says, looking at you sideways.  “I spy with my little—”
“Nope.”
“Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.”  He nods, strumming the steering wheel again. 
The radio blathers on, you barely listening.  You scroll through your phone until there are zero notifications, then you scroll through your photo album just for something to look at.  Jisung hums to himself and you try not to get annoyed all over again.  You exploding at something so inconsequential would give him way too much satisfaction.   
The snow comes down harder.  It pulls your attention from your phone to the blustery world outside.  Everything is a harsh grey, the dark night foggily illuminated by the white snow.  Even Jisung is concentrating now, his brow furrowed as he stares through the front window. 
“Shit,” he says. 
He changes stations to catch a road update.  Your jaws drop in unison when the reporter mentions a thirteen hour delay on the main bridge into the city. 
“Thirteen fucking hours?” you say.  It comes out wheezy.  “It’s winter!  Why are they always so surprised by the fucking snow!  God!  What the hell are we gonna do?”
“We’re not going anywhere near the bridge, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Jisung says, flipping the car into reverse and immediately changing course. 
“How else are we getting downtown?” 
He looks at you like you’re so stupid that he can’t believe it, his eyebrows jumping up his face. 
“Uh, hello, welcome back to town, it’s snowing here,” Jisung says.  “We’re going downtown tomorrow when it won’t kill us or trap us in a car—”
“I want to go home—”
“Do you want to spend thirteen hours in a car with me?”  Jisung asks.  “Because that’s what going home will involve right now, k?”
He sounds terse.  You feel a little better when he acts short with you too, more justified in your own rudeness. 
“Fine,” you say.  “What are we doing then?”   
A ten minute trip turns into an hour long drive with traffic delays, but eventually you are rolling into the snow-covered parking lot of the only motel with a vacancy sign.  You and Jisung do not speak, stepping out of the car and crunching along the snow in silence.  The motel parking lot is washed a golden colour, the yellow balcony lights beaming over the white snow.   It holds the promise of warmth.   You hurry inside. 
You shake yourself off in the tiny entryway while Jisung dings the desk bell.  Someone appears to check you in. 
“You’re a lucky couple,” she says.  “Lots of folks have stopped because of the weather.  We have exactly one room left available.  It’s a nice cozy double bed.  Sounds good?”  
“Ummm…”  You join Jisung at the desk, a million frantic thoughts running through your brain.  “Hold on, we’re not—”
“Did you hear that, baby?” Jisung says with exaggerated fondness, because he can’t help but taunt you.  “We’re a lucky couple.  Isn’t that just our luck the only room available has one bed?” 
You step on his foot deliberately and he yelps. 
“Is there really no other option?” you ask the attendant with some degree of desperation. 
“No, sorry.”  She gives you a funny look but shakes her head.  “I doubt you’ll have better luck finding a room anywhere else tonight.  You can have this one or enjoy a car nap.” 
“My beautiful wife and I are happy with a double,” Jisung says, already holding out his credit card.  “Right, baby?” 
You smack his ass, hard and swift.  His eyes widen.   You smirk.
“Right, baby,” you say with a snarl. 
-
Tonight’s only saving grace is the hot water; you enjoy a long shower before changing into sleep shorts and a camisole.   You join Jisung in the room, finding him sprawled on the double bed with air pods in his ears.  He tossed his hat somewhere and is laying there in jeans and a t-shirt – remarkable, as you thought he might strip to his underwear just to be annoying.  But no, he lays there peacefully.  His fair hair is darker at the root, neatly framing his unfortunately handsome face.  He has one arm flexed under his head, the muscle more pronounced than you remember it being.  His eyes are closed as he nods along to the music. 
You grab a pillow and thwack him in the gut.  It startles him to attention, a strangled sound leaving his throat. 
“You stay on that side of the bed and you do not move, got it?” you say. 
He sticks his tongue out at you.   
“Very mature,” you say. 
You lay down with your back to him.  After twenty minutes, he still has his bedside light on so you snap at him.  He whines like a little baby but turns it off, leaving just his phone beaming at his face.  You can hear his music but say nothing. 
You can’t sleep.  You want to roll over but you absolutely refuse to face him. 
His phone screen finally goes dark after god knows how long and he puts it aside.  There is a long stretch of silence in the dark.  You swear you have never been so uncomfortable laying on this side in all your life.  Knowing you will not be able to sleep without turning at least once, you decide to roll over.  You figure Jisung laid down with his back to you anyway.
He didn’t.  He is staring right at you, his big eyes making him look like a pathetic little lemur gawping at a human in the dark. 
“Why don’t you like me?” Jisung says.
“Oh no,” you say, immediately rolling onto your back.  “Absolutely not.  We are not having a heart to heart.”
“Oh come oooon, please,” he whines.  “This is the time and place—”
“It really isn’t—”
“It’s a classic story, a boy, and a girl—”
“I don’t like stories—”
“Forced to share a bed and share their secret feelings—”
“Those feelings are disgust, hatred, and revulsion—”
“Opening their hearts and—whoa, wait, what?  Hatred?  You hate me?”  Jisung pushes himself up on one elbow, staring down at you with a completely horrified look on his face. 
You try to ignore him and his stupid expressions, glaring at the ceiling as if it can do anything to save you.   Your heart is beating fast but it doesn’t feel good.  The pounding is coupled with a nauseous turn in your gut.
It is open knowledge that you do not like Han Jisung one bit, but you seldom vocalize it so explicitly.  Certainly not to his face.  Certainly not beside him in bed. 
“That can’t possibly surprise you,” you say.
“Well, it does actually!”  Jisung says.  “I knew you didn’t like me but hate me?  How could you hate me?  I’m delightful.” 
Even now, the clown is trying to joke.  Because that’s all it is to him, isn’t it?  Everything is just a joke all the time.  Everything and everyone is a punchline waiting to happen.  But you aren’t laughing.  Your hands close into fists and you dig your nails into your palms to keep your frustration in check.  Your neck feels hot and your stomach is still turning.  You feel embarrassed about things you haven’t even said yet.  Your tongue feels swollen somehow, your throat lined thickly.  It takes several deep breaths before you can speak.
“Well,” you say bitterly, “I guess I just can’t help being a massive bitch.  The worst you’ve ever met, right?” 
There is a beat of silence, then Jisung flips on the bedside light.
You slap your fists down on the bedcovers and glare at him.
“Turn off the light,” you say. 
“No way, you were just talking in a voice.  What did you mean? Why do you--”
“Jisung, I swear to god, if you don’t turn off that light—”
“Look, can we just—”
You shove the covers down and climb on top of him without thinking, trying to reach the light yourself.  He grabs you by the arms and pushes you back.  You end up tussling ungracefully, you wriggling around like a worm and Jisung clearly in control but just as clearly trying to go easy on you.  It puts you at an impasse.  With an angry huff, you push away from him.
“If I said something—” he starts. 
You laugh, a joyless cackle. 
“If,” you repeat.  “You’ve said a lot of somethings over the years, Jisung.” 
“I—I didn’t mean it if I—I don’t even know what I—”
You look at him.  He seems to be genuinely confounded and more than a little miserable, his eyes darting around as he racks his brain, his brow furrowed with obvious upset.  His hand is frozen on his head, a clump of hair feathering through his fingers. 
He meets your gaze and you roll your eyes.  You feel hot and uncomfortable again, the source of your nausea climbing up and up and up until it is clawing its way past your lips and—
“The day we met,” you say, finally, after years of stamping down the humiliating memory, “you said I was a massive bitch, the worst you had ever met.  And it—”
You are not sad.  You refuse to be sad.  This pain is years old now and it does not hurt you anymore.  But you are angry –  with him, with yourself, with this whole shitty circumstance, and the angrier you get, the more tears stab at your eyes. 
You swallow down a lump in your throat and take a steadying breath.  You stare at the wall because his attentive, earnest gaze is too much to bear. 
“I know I’m a little awkward when I first meet people,” you say.  “I’m shy and weird and sometimes… sometimes people think I’m a bitch when really I’m just quiet.  Chan introduced me to you because he said that you were kinda the same, and that we had lots in common, and he thought we would get along.  And then we met and—”
“We did,” Jisung says softly.
Your vision is blurry now.  You sniff hard, wiping your arm under your nose. 
“Yes,” you say.  “We did.  We got along amazing.  We were quiet for a second and then it was like… like we were already friends. As if we always knew each other. I’ve never spoken like that to someone so quickly.  It’s like I just forgot to be shy.   I was so happy and then—”
“I remember all this,” Jisung says, still sounding confused.  “I don’t get it.  It was Changbin’s birthday, right?  We were talking all night and it was great but then you just left without saying bye.  Then the next time we met you already hated me—”
You finally look at him, hitting him with the full force of your emotional expression.  He clearly was not expecting the tears because he literally jumps at the sight of you. 
“I left after overhearing you talk about me in the kitchen to one of your stupid friends,” you snap.  “’That woman is without doubt a totally massive bitch.  The worst I’ve ever met.’  And you were laughing.  Just… just standing there laughing about it, about me.  And I had no idea why.  Why?  What had I said or done?  It was humiliating.  And it hurt, and the reason it hurt so bad was because it came from you.”  You jab him in the chest, trying to sound angry because your tears are falling now and it just makes you feel pathetic.  “It hurt, Jisung,” you say, “because it was you.  From anyone else I wouldn’t care.  But you were the one person I expected to understand me.  The one person who got what it was like.  So to hear you saying those things—god.  I never wanted to see you again, but then you and Chan started your stupid projects together and I couldn’t get away from you.  And you just got more and more in my face no matter what I did—”
“Oh my god.” Jisung slaps both hands to his head.  He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he is hearing.  “Hold on,” he says, abruptly getting out of bed.  “Just… just hold on.” 
He runs away.  You sit there more confused than anything, your face wet, your breathing uneven.  He is gone long enough for you to get angry again, glaring at him when he gets back in the bed.
“Here,” he says, giving you the tissue box he evidently retrieved from the bathroom.  “Just… here.” 
He takes a tissue and awkwardly dabs at your cheek.  You snatch it away from him, frowning. 
“Sorry, sorry,” he says.  He gets off the bed again, hovering awkwardly at the side while you wipe your face clean.   He waits until you are composed, swaying where he stands, clasping and unclasping his hands.  When you stop sniffling, he lets out a huge exhale.  “Okay,” he says.  “Look.  I’m sorry.  I’m… I’m really, really fucking sorry.  And I want to explain, I really do, but… but if I explain, I think it’s only gonna make you upset.”
You give him a very sarcastic look.
“I’m already upset, you stupid jerk,” you say.  “Just spit it out so I can go to sleep.” 
“Right.”  He runs his hand through his hair again.  It falls softly down and flutters when he exhales.  “God.  Okay.  This is gonna sound so stupid.  But, yeah, okay, I do remember saying that actually.  I didn’t know you heard me but… but that’s not an excuse.  I know.  I shouldn’t have said it at all.  I totally do know that.  But also… I said it, but I didn’t.  What I mean is, what you heard me saying, I was not actually saying.”
You stare at him for a long moment. 
“What,” you say, “the fuck?” 
He waves his hands around defensively. 
“What I mean is,” he says, “and stay with me… but… I actually meant it as a compliment.” 
“A compliment,” you say.  “A compliment?  You called me a massive bitch as a compliment?”
“Yes.” 
“Do you seriously expect me to believe that?” you shout, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at him.
His reflexes are fast.  He ducks and the pillow sails over his head, whacking the blinds with a clatter.  He looks there then looks at you, just in time for you to throw the tissue box.  He dodges that too, ducking down again.  The box hits the radiator and thunks to the ground. 
“Okay, listen—” he says.
He is not fast enough when you chuck the second pillow. 
“Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he says, holding the offending pillow up in surrender.  He tentatively approaches the bed with it, eying you as he gently lays it back down.
You glare.
“I promise I can explain,” he says.  “And you’re gonna love this explanation, because it is going to completely and totally humiliate me and you will have something to hold over my head for the rest of your life.”
“I’m listening,” you say.  You feel embarrassed about crying so the least he can do is embarrass himself too. 
“Thank you,” he says.  He gets back on the bed, kneeling and tipping his head back.  It looks like he’s praying, gathering the strength to admit whatever he is about to admit. 
You cross your arms.  You are annoyed he is taking so long and also annoyed that you genuinely want to know.  Han Jisung has no problem blurting every stupid thought that crosses his mind, at least when it comes to you, so you cannot begin to imagine what dark secret he can’t bring himself to speak out loud. 
You are halfway convinced he is trying to come up with a lie when he finally throws his arms out as if in supplication. 
“I’m a fucking freak!” he says, with all the verve and jubilation of hallelujah.  He closes his eyes and nods his head.  “I’m a pervert and I think with my dick like ninety-eight per cent of the time.  The other two per cent of the time I am honestly probably thinking with my prostate, though I haven’t really worked that one out yet completely—”
“What?”  Your whole face screws tight with bewilderment.  “What the fuck are you talking about?” 
“I love bitches.  No wait.”  He shakes his head.  “That came out wrong.  Hold on.  I love… well, yeah, no, bitches.  Mean girls.  Bullies.  Catwoman.”
“Catwoman.”
“That whip… t-cha.”
“Jisung—”
“Look I was telling my friend about you because Minho’s an even bigger freak than me.  He’s the only one who knows my secret and—”
“Your secret,” you say slowly. “That you… like bitches?”
“That I love bitches,” he says.  “When I told him that you were the biggest bitch I ever met, it was because we both knew that what I meant was: holy shit dude, I just found my soulmate, she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, I’m getting married tonight, and if she asked me to tattoo her face on my butt right now I would do it.” 
You hate that you laugh, but the comment is so unexpected that it sputters out of you.
Jisung smiles, releasing a pent-up breath of relief. 
“You were… are… funny, and smart, and yeah a bit quiet but you still don’t let it stop you from defending yourself or someone else when something is wrong.  Remember when you told off that creep at the party?  The one who was bugging Felix?  You don’t take anyone’s shit and then you just move on quietly like it was nothing.  I was obsessed with you from the second we started talking.  Then I was a stupid horny pervert and opened my big stupid mouth and now you hate me.” 
“I’m still not sure I really get it,” you say, admittedly flustered at his admission.  You had no idea Jisung saw you that way.  The woman he’s describing does sound pretty amazing, and he sounds sincerely infatuated.   When your heart starts skipping beats again, it feels different than before.  “Explain,” you say. 
He slaps his thighs in a motion of surrender. 
“Yup,” he says.  “Okay.  Fine.  Cool.  I like when women boss me around.  I like when they are mean to me.  I like when they hurt me and make me cry.   It… it gets my dick hard, okay?  I love bitches.  I LOVE BITCHES—”
You reach out to slap a hand over his mouth, remembering it’s a motel in the middle of the night. 
Jisung’s shoulders jump and he laughs into your hand, clearly embarrassed as he remembers where he is.  You laugh in spite of yourself, lowering your hand. 
“Oops,” he says.
“Oops,” you reply. 
Oops, you misunderstood your eavesdropping. 
Oops, Jisung never hated you. 
Oops, you find yourself staring into his eyes for way too long. 
“So just to clarify,” you say.  “You’re into, like, female domination stuff, and you called me a bitch as the highest form of compliment in your crazy brain, and then you spent the next two years being as annoying as possible because…”
“I thought you were just, like, crazy edging me or something,” Jisung says, making you laugh helplessly into your hands.  He laughs too, even while looking a little pained.  “I did!  I was like shit, she’s so nasty, she’s really taking me for a fucking ride.  I would have kept doing this for the rest of our lives if this conversation didn’t happen.  I would’ve been at your wedding like damn, she’s really got me going this time—”
“You’re so stupid,” you say, pushing at his chest without any real animosity. 
“I know, I really am,” he says.  He draws an X over his chest.  “But cross my heart and hope to die, everything I have told you is the complete truth.  I’d tell you to slap me because you definitely deserve it but honestly, it would give me a boner and I don’t think either of us wants that since we’re stuck in the same bed all night.” 
He says it jokingly, of course.  But you can hear the twinge of flirtation and truth under his just kidding. 
And maybe you’re still on an adrenaline kick.  Maybe your emotions are right at the surface.  Maybe you hated him so much because deep down you liked him, and you hated that you liked him because of a misunderstanding. 
And maybe, just maybe, those big brown eyes have drawn you in from the second you first saw him. 
“Slap you,” you say, as if in deep contemplation.  “Slap you where?  Your face?” 
This clearly catches him off guard.  He opens his mouth and a garbled sound comes out.  He thumps a fist on his chest. 
“Uh, yeah,” he says.  “Sure.  Whatever, you know.  You know.” 
“Mhm.” You move so you are kneeling too, facing each other.  You watch as he swallows hard, the gulp going down his throat.  All the adrenaline you built up earlier is suffusing into the race of your bloodstream.  Heat simmers below the surface of your skin.  “And you like that?  Getting slapped when you’ve been bad?”
“Oh my god,” he says.  “Are you.. are we… is something happening right now?  Oh my god.  Hold on.”  He says that but then all he does is stand up and sit back down again, rekneeling in the exact same position.  “Right, okay,” he says.  “Slap away.”
You snort, rolling your eyes but smiling.  You lift your hand but he is staring at you so expectantly that it just feels weird, not sexy, and you laugh giddily with amusement. 
“Aww, come oooon,” he whines, but laughingly too.  “Don’t get shy.  You were so good at it.”
“I’ve had years of bitchy practice, I guess,” you say with a quirked eyebrow, making him grin.  You shake your head.  “I dunno.  Just.  Do something to earn a slap I guess.  It’s too weird to just smack you out of nowhere.” 
“Do something?” he asks.  “Uh, I dunno.  As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never done anything in my life to earn a slap.  I’m seriously the most charming and funny and perfect guy ever and I—” 
Your slap him across the face.  The sound startles you because it sounds harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.   
Jisung looks genuinely surprised.  His head turned with the impact of the slap, his jaw falling open.  He blinks himself back into focus and you are about to ask if he’s all right, then he looks at you in a way he has never looked at you before.  The desire and desperation of his gaze moves right through you, gathering hot in every intimate place. 
“Did you like that?” he asks, his voice a little gravelly as it drops low. 
“I don’t know,” you say softly.  You reach out to touch his chin, a delicate touch that makes him shiver.  You turn his face to look at the faint redness on his cheek.  “Can I try again to be sure?”
He nods and swallows again. 
You don’t ask for build-up this time.  You pull your hand back and bring it down sharply on his cheek. 
This time it makes him whimper.  It flushes you with heat. 
“Oh my god,” you say.  “What else?” 
“Uh, oh, fuck, um.”  He touches his cheek and sucks in a breath.  He pushes his hair only for it flop back in place.  “Um,” he says.  “Choking.  F-fingers?  Fingers in my mouth...  Um, haha, I can’t think.  Bondage?  Yeah.  Erm, denial.  Overstimulation.  Puuussy… yes, um, pussy.  On my face please.  Uhh… Punishment.  Pulling my hair… Oh, hello.” 
You take hold of his shoulders and push, guiding him to lay on his back.  He is already panting when you straddle him, his eyes wide when you lean down. 
“Do you still hate me?” he asks when you are millimetres away from his mouth.
You pretend to think about it.
“Hm,” you say with obvious theatricality, stealing a page from his book.  “Yeah.  I hate you so much.  You’re my worst enemy.  Sorry, baby.”
“That’s hot,” he says with a nervous little giggle.  “You’re hot.  You know I think—mmmf.”
You interrupt whatever long-winded joke was incoming.  He does not protest this interruption as it involves a kiss, a good kiss, a deep kiss, one that pushes his head into the plushness of his pillow, one that has him moaning into your mouth.   He lifts his hands to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your bare thighs when you seize his wrists.  You shove them into the bed, pinned on either side of his head.  He bucks under you, his mouth opening under your kiss.  You bite at his bottom lip and drag your teeth, making his hips move even more. 
You break away quickly and just as quickly slap him.  It knocks a surprised breath out of him, his eyes a bit watery when he looks up at you. 
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby,” you say.  “I’m just getting started.”
“Oh my god.” 
You try not to smile but Jisung makes it hard.  You feel flushed with excitement, hot with power and anticipation.  You squeeze his hips between your thighs and push the hem of his shirt up and over his chest.   He whimpers again but doesn’t move, his eyes closing when you hold down his wrists and duck your head. 
“Fuck, oh god,” he murmurs, a constant stream of mumbled expletives as your mouth runs over his chest, kissing and licking and biting, teasing him until he can’t help but buck his hips for friction.   When you feel him fully hard in his jeans you lean back, smirk, then climb off him.  “Oh god, you’re too good at this,” he says, keeping his hands where you left them and gazing at you with wanting eyes. 
You blow him a kiss and shimmy out of your shorts and underwear.  Thoughtlessly he swings a hand down to touch himself, squeezing his dick through his jeans and groaning. 
“Did I tell you that you could—” you start, but he puts his hand back beside his head before you can finish.  His smile is far too innocent.  “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you say. 
“Am I?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 
“Shut up,” you reply, getting back on top of him.  “I still hate you.” 
“Oh god, yes,” he says.  His hips buck into the air as you scoot over his chest.  “More.” 
“I hate you,” you say, moving until your legs are on either side of his head.  “ I hate you so much, Han Jisung.  I’m going to ruin you.” 
“Fuck.” 
He already has his mouth open when you lower onto his face.  You grip the headboard and rock yourself over his tongue, back and forth until he finds your rhythm and takes over.  What he lacks in precision he compensates with eagerness, licking at you without any care for the mess it makes of him, wet and sloppy and hot as his tongue moves inside you then up and down your pussy, circling your clit, sucking, flicking, back and forth, around and around—
“Oh my god,” you say, looking down at where you can see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he works, as he moans, as he squeezes your thighs in his hands and drags his tongue all over you.   You grip the headboard tight when you come, throwing your head back and grinding down against him. 
You lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.   You shuffle back and sit on his abdomen so you can see him, his eyes wide and wet mouth open as he pants.  He licks his lips and murmurs please, please, please in a hoarse voice. 
“Please?” you repeat, a little out of breath as well. 
You swirl your fingers over his bare chest and fiddle with the t-shirt still bunched under his chin.  He moves his face wherever you push it, tipping his head back, tilting it to the side.  He goes cross-eyed when your fingers dance in front of him, touching his lips.  His mouth falls open and his eyes close when you slide two fingers inside his mouth.  
“Please what, Jisung?” you ask, slowly finger-fucking his mouth.  “What do you want?”
He can’t speak around your fingers so he just whines, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs. 
“Oh,” you say.  Your giggle is filled with genuine delight, even while your voice is rough.  “I see.  You want to put your dick inside me, baby?  Hmm?  You wanna say you’re sorry and that you’ll be good and let me ride you?” 
“Good, so good,” he says, drooling around your fingers when you slide them out.   He swallows hard, choking on nothing, then nods his head.  “Please, please.   Yes.” 
You lean down and kiss his wet mouth, a chaste peck.  You rub the corner of his lips, smiling at his closed eyes and wrecked expression. 
“Okay,” you say.  “Get ready for me then.”  
You have a string of condoms in your luggage, always tucked in the pocket in case of emergency.  Emergencies like a snow storm trapping you in bed with your former worst enemy turned lover. 
When you get back to him, Jisung is laying there completely naked, flushed and stroking himself as he watches you.   He lets you take his hand off his dick, holds you obediently when you guide his hands to your waist.   He kisses you when you lean down, a hot and heavy kiss as you straddle him again.   It ends when you push him flat and sit back, already grinning because you know you are about to short-circuit his brain.
“Wanna see a trick?” you say, and proceed to put the condom on him with your mouth.   You laugh when you see his face after, his mouth hanging open as he blinks at you. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, but laughs a little. 
His head thunks back into the pillows when you guide him inside you.   You put your hands over his, holding them to your hips as you rock over him.   His chest lifts and falls and his eyes close as he concentrates on not rushing your pace.  He keeps holding your waist firmly when you slide your hands over his chest. 
“Look at me,” you say. 
He blinks his eyes open.  You smile.
“Good boy.” 
He makes a noise that sounds more pained than when you slapped him.  It lights up inside you like fire and you move faster, take him deeper.   You get a bit dizzy with how good it feels, his dick curving up to drive against the softest, most sensitive part of you, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm.  You rub yourself at the same time, looking down at him as he gasps and moans, as he holds your hips and fucks you back. 
You bring your hand to his neck and gently circle it, rubbing yourself harder when he whines with chest-deep desperation. 
“I—I’m gonna—oh god—” he says, squeezing your hips so tightly that you think it might bruise.  
It feels so good, his rough hands coupled with his dick hitting perfectly inside you.  Your whole body draws taut for its crest.   
“Don’t,” you say, laughing a little, not even to be mean but because it feels so good that you feel giddy.  You squeeze his throat and his hips get erratic under you.  “Not yet,” you say.  “Me first.”
“Oh my god,” he says, looking up at you with frantic eyes.  “I—I can’t—I’m gonna—”
“Jisung,” you say, squeezing his throat harder so he makes a choked-up sound that goes straight to your pussy.  “Are you gonna be good or bad?” 
“I’m—I’m—oh god.”
You stop touching yourself because you know he doesn’t stand a chance outlasting you.  You ride him through his orgasm, choking him as he spasms and moans and cries out.   His head lifts for a second, his eyes closed and brows furrowed, then he flops back down with an exhausted heave.  
His eyes open again, watery and huge. 
“Oh fuck,” he says, voice like gravel as you release his throat.  A deep breath shudders out of him.  “Oh… fuck,” he says, dreamily, smiling, then pouting.  “Oh! Fuck!” 
You giggle at him managing to say the same thing in three different voices. 
You slip your fingers into his hair and tug, yanking his head up.  He follows with a gasp. 
“I should hit you again for that,” you say. 
You slide off him, carefully.  He sucks in a ragged, tearful breath when you touch his dick to deal with the condom.  After, you rub your palm on the oversensitive head of it, making him grab at you and cry out.   It squeezes a tear out of him and you kiss it away. 
“Come on,” you say, grabbing him by the hair again.  You get off the bed and drag him to follow.  “I’m not done with you.” 
He is a little shaky and boneless from coming.  His footing is unsteady from the moment he touches the ground, moving with thoughtless obedience.  He thumps down heavily onto his knees.  When he sways, you straighten him.  He blinks up at you, on his knees, already nodding. 
You put your leg over his shoulder and draw him in.  For the second time, he gets you off with his mouth, his hands on your ass and his face buried in your pussy.  You sink your fingers in his hair and let it wash over you, humming happily when you are finished. 
You lower your leg off his shoulder.  Jisung slumps backwards, leaning against the bed and breathing hard, his face and hair a mess. 
“Wow,” he says.  He looks up at you.  “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” 
You laugh, feeling hot and flushed but satisfied.  
“Me too,” you say, making him smile. 
You help him back into the bed because his legs seem a little numb.  You lay beside him, rubbing the inside of his thigh as he kisses all over your face.   You giggle then fall into a proper kiss, winding around each other affectionately.  
“I’m gonna send Chan a gift basket,” Jisung says, making you snort.  “I am!  Thank you for having a family emergency, your timing couldn’t be better.”
You tip your head and look at him with confusion.
“Family emergency?” you say.  “He told me he was working?”
“Working?”  Jisung furrows his brow.  “Huh?  We don’t have anything coming up at work.  He phoned me from the road and said he was heading out to visit family?  He said he wouldn’t be back all week-end.” 
“He told me he was stuck working and would see me tomorrow,” you say, your eyes narrowing as you slowly put two-and-two and together.  
“I didn’t even know why he was asking me and not Changbin or something,” Jisung continues to muse aloud.  “He said you were wanting to talk to me, though, so I figured—”
“I never said that!  I mean, I’m glad we did but…”  You sit up, glaring at the wall.
Jisung bursts into laughter, covering his mouth as he looks at you. 
“Did Chan hustle us?” he asks. 
“He threw us together in a snow storm so we’d be forced to reconcile!”
“I don’t think Chan can control the weather—”
“Oh, he definitely can.  I bet he delayed the bridge himself—”
Jisung laughs some more, kissing the side of your face lovingly while you continue to glare contemptuously at the wall. 
“Well,��� you say, looking at him.  You kiss him sweetly on the nose and he smiles at you.  “That’s fine,” you say.  “A vacancy for my sworn enemy just opened up.  Looks like I found a replacement.” 
“I’m good with that,” Jisung says.  “But… you’re not allowed to enemy-fuck him like that.  That’s just for me, right?” 
You settle in his arms, forgetting about Chan for the time being, forgetting to glare, forgetting about everything that happened before tonight.  You smile at him, brushing a bit of hair off his sweaty forehead.  He is still flushed and beautiful, his hopeful eyes locked on yours.  He smiles back. 
“Yeah,” you say.  “It’s only ever been just you, Jisung.” 
He visibly melts, his laugh a breathless thing.  He leans in and kisses you and you hold his face, kissing him back.  You can feel him smiling against your lips and you smile too. 
5K notes · View notes
sandwhitches · 2 months
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Hello! For you summer writing event, may I request a cherry popsicle with sakusa, osamu and kuroo and falling asleep on their shoulder on a bus/train?
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a/n: one of my favorite tropes hehehe. thanks for requesting and enjoy!!
genre: fluff
content: gn. reader, all of them are pining messes
wc: 676
this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3
𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈
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Sakusa wonders how he’s managed to amass such a crush on you, impossible to ignore, it slowly eats away at his sanity with each time he sees your face but can’t kiss it. But this? This takes the cake. How long can a person go without needing to breathe? Kiyoomi asks himself that as he tenses under an unexpected weight on his shoulder, his lungs have suddenly forgotten what they were made for it seems. 
Cautiously, his eyes dart down to affirm what he already knows. Your face has never looked easier to kiss all over than it does now, peaceful with the slumber he’s been watching you trying to stave off since getting on the train.
Now you’ve done it, you’re killing him without even needing to be conscious to do so, nothing less of what he’d expect given how he’s been head over heels in silence for too long. 
Swallowing thickly, Kiyoomi makes an effort to lower his shoulders a bit, hoping you won’t wake with a sore neck. This can be okay, he thinks, he may very well die like this if he can’t figure out how to breathe, and maybe he won’t be so upset about whatever happens as long as you stay close to him like you are now. 
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𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔
“Isn’t yer stop comin’-” Osamu’s breath catches in his throat as he’s interrupted by the foreign feeling of your warm body pressed up against his. You can’t possibly be asleep, can you? He can practically hear his own heartbeat as his eyes are met with the most beautiful sight he’s sure he’ll ever get the privilege to see.
Your upcoming stop is now long lost on Osamu, who has since leaned his head gently atop yours, trying to time his breaths with the rise and fall of your own chest. If he could choose one moment to stay in forever, this might be the one, he thinks.
A nervous hand drapes over the one you’d planted on his knee in a half-asleep haze, roughened fingers brush over the soft back of your palm, and Osamu is asking himself what good deed he’s done in his life to deserve this. 
There's a taste of something new on his tongue, the sugary weight of words he wishes to shower you in: confessions, secrets, desires. It’s funny, and his opinion, a bit pathetic, that this is all it takes for him to start dreaming so ardently over the rest of your lives.
In that moment, Osamu feels as if the only reason he was put on this earth was for you to lean on like you are now, for him to do anything in his power to spark even the smallest of joys in your heart. 
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𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎
It’s an absolute mystery to Kuroo how you can manage to doze off like this on such a crowded train. Squeezed into a tight corner at the end, he’s beginning to lose his mind over the fact that he can hear the airy breaths you let out so slowly.
While he’s still grappling with the fact that you’ve fallen asleep, he’s also trying to ignore that it feels like he’s going to pass out when your head lolls onto his shoulder. 
How can he be cool about this? Kuroo can just barely bolster the wave of nerves he gets when being with you as it is, but this is impossible for him. He cringes at the warmth that spreads across his cheeks, undeniably tinting the apples a blushy red, and he knows it’s obvious to just about anyone on the train who looks his way that he’s suffocating on the dizzying sensation of love. 
The worst part about this? It’s going to be impossible for him to keep his feelings stifled under the guise of camaraderie for any much longer. Now that he knows what it is like to have you so close to him, it’s clear that he wants that as much as he possibly can. Kuroo was doomed from the very start, wasn’t he?
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kimberly-spirits13 · 5 months
Text
Break Ups and Make Ups
Jason Todd x reader
Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty
Word Count: 3233
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Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 
That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 
                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 
                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.
                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.
                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 
                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”
                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.
                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 
                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.
                  “It’s none of your business.” 
                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”
                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.
                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 
                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 
                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”
                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.
                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 
                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 
                  “Where’s Y/N?” 
                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”
                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 
                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.
                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.
                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.
                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”
                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”
                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”
                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.
                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said
                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”
                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,
                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 
                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 
                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 
                  “What do you have?” You asked.
                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”
                  “He never told me about that.” 
                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 
                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”
                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.
                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 
                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 
                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.
                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 
                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 
                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 
                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.
                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 
                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”
                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 
                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 
                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 
                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.
                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.
                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”
                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 
                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 
                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 
                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.
                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 
                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    
                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 
                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 
                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.
                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 
                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 
                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.
                  “You know it.” Dick said.
                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 
                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.
                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.
                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.
                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.
                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.
                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.
                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 
                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 
                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.
                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”
                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.
                  “You knew about that?” 
                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.
                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 
                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.
                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 
                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.
                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.
                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 
                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.
                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 
                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 
                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.
                  “Yes, absolutely.” 
                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.
                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 
                  “I did too.” 
                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.
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temiizpalace · 7 months
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☆┆”THAT WAS CLICHÉ..”
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SUMMARY: cliché moments with our twst boys
CHARACTERS: HEARTSLABYUL
ROMANTIC
WARNINGS: cursing, cringey cliché tropes that i’m a sucker for
PARTS LIST — heartslabyul. savanaclaw + octavinelle. scarabia + pomefiore. ignihyde + diasomnia
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
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✧༺♥༻✧ HEARTSLABYUL
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS : TURNING THE CORNER !
you hastily sped past the halls, a large stack of papers in your hands. crowley felt like dumping all the responsibility on you again, keeping you busy for the next week.
you needed to pass these to crewel before the next class, which didn’t leave much time. turning corner after corner, you kept a steady pace. not slowing down for a second. until..
BAM!
“ACK—!” a voice winces in pain while papers flutter across the halls. your faces darkens at the sight as the thin sheets fell to the floor. oh fuck. “ARE YOU OKAY? IM SORRY!”
the figure before you was one you’re all too familiar with. the one and only, riddle rosehearts. “SORRY, RIDDLE!” you apologize once more. his expression shifted as he realizes it was you instead of some other arrogant student.
“it’s alright. you should really look where you’re going, prefect.” he sighs, picking up the sheets of paper from the floor. you lean down and grab the scattered notes that have made its way across the halls.
“i know, i know. i’m just kind of in a rush right now..” you groan, reaching your hand out for another paper. “is that so? may i ask why?” he questions, also reaching for another paper.
just then, both of your hands meet in one place. his hand was right atop of yours, slightly squeezing it subconsciously. his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed red in color, flustered from the sudden touch.
time seemed to have paused in this moment, each second passing by feeling like hours. you hesitantly pulled back your hand, the intimacy breaking between you two. “ahem.. i was taking these down to crewel.” you answered his question, voice slightly cracking.
riddle clears his throat and swiftly collects the rest of the papers from the floors and stands upright. “then i shall accompany you.” he states a matter of factly, waiting for you to stand. “aw you’d do that?”
“of course. it’s the least i could do after everything you’ve done for me..” he faintly smiles, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. he quickly walks towards crewel’s classroom, needing to run to catchup to him. “hey! wait for me!”
ACE TRAPPOLA : THIS ONE’S FOR YOU !
attending basketball practice was always an interesting sight to see.
floyd going through several mood swings the entire practice, jamil trying his best to escape (ultimately failing), and ace either instigating in the madness or shooting hoops on his own.
right now, he was practicing by himself. you watched him from the bleachers, in awe of his form and quick movements. ace noticed your eyes burning holes into the back of his head, and being the little shit he is, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tease you a little.
“what’s up, prefect? like what ya see?” he winks, causing you to cringe. “in your dreams.” you retort, making him scoff at your comment. he was attractive though cmon let’s not lie. “whatever.”
ace dribbles the ball and shoots, doing his best to perfect his shot. before this attempt, he looks at you and smirks, much to your confusion. “PREFECT!” he shouts, almost the entire gym goes silent. eyes had landed on him and then to you as he spoke.
“THIS ONE’S FOR YOU!” he winks, shifting his attention back on the hoop. you felt your cheeks warm up at this sudden declaration, all eyes in the gym lying on you.
ace takes a deep breathe, calculating the shot and playing it back in his head. he analyzes the trajectory in which the ball should be at, equaling his absolute success. he did all the math in his head and had the perfect equation for absolute success.
too bad he’s an idiot that can’t do math. he shoots the ball, the suspense killing the others. spoiler alert: it doesn’t go in the net. it hits the backboard then hits him dead set in the forehead.
good job, buddy. you suck your teeth as the impact looked painful, watching as he fell right on his ass. he looked like a moron out there, but the gesture was sweet.. sort of.
you owe him a drink and a kiss on the cheek for this one.
“dont you dare take a photo, damn it.”
DEUCE SPADE : I GOT YOU !
today, you and deuce were on library duty together. both of you needed to rearrange some of the books because these savanaclaw students keep putting them in their incorrect spots.
you stood on the ladder as deuce held it steady, ensuring that you wouldn’t fall. “deuce, pass me that book please.” you ask, reaching your hand out. “right!”
he grabs the book and passes it to you, putting it in its rightful spot. thankfully this was the last book to be put away, meaning the 3 hour job was finally finished. “phew, that was the last one!” deuce smiles, wiping his brow.
“all you did was hold the ladder.”
“..a-anyways, get down slowly.” he stutters, watching you climb down. “yeah, yeah i got it.” taking it step by step, you slowly climbed down the ladder.
an annoying fly circles around deuce’s eyes. it’s been bothering him for the past hour, never getting the hint to not come back. feeling tired from dealing with this fly’s shit, he grit his teeth and tried swatting it.
“you annoying piece of—” it landed on the ladder, and since poor deucey has a singular braincell, he slapped the fly with all his might. the ladder shook, causing you to lose your balance.
“DEUCE?!” you shriek, before falling off the wood. he hears your cry, horror filling his eyes as he watched you fall. without a moment to lose, he opens his arms to catch you.
“I GOT YOU!” he shouts, determined to catch you no matter what. you fell into his arms, the impact not hurting nearly as much as you braced yourself for. he caught you bridal style, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.
you tightly gripped the fabric around his chest, trying to keep yourself from dropping. “it’s alright, i caught you.” he reassures, brushing a stray hair out from your face.
“aha.. thanks, deuce!” your voice was shaking, still in shock from the fall. “dont mention it!” he smiles, his grasp tightening slightly. you stare at him, not realizing how attractive he was before. the light somehow highlighted his facial features, enhancing his appearance.
he didn’t notice your staring til a short while, causing his face to heat up and turn red. you both stared at each other a moment longer before you broke the silence. “y-you can drop me now..”
“R-RIGHT! SORRY.” he shouts, putting you down slowly. the air in the room was awkward, you and deuce just standing next to one another. “i guess holding the ladder really is an important job, huh?”
you smile at his attempt to break the silence and look back at him. “yeah, i guess.”
CATER DIAMOND : LOOKS LIKE IT’S JUST US !
cater wanted more alone time with you. it felt like all the people you hung out with was the iconic adeuce duo. boooo, let him in on the action.
he felt himself ascend to heaven when you agreed to hang out with him! ..and trey. does he have to beg to get the things he wants??? why does this world hate him.
feeling distraught, he decided enough was enough. he will have this moment. just you and him. all it takes is a little convincing!
“so where’s trey?” you ask, standing by the rosebush with cater. “trey said he had something come up! looks like it’s just us!” he exclaims, looking at you with a bright smile.
“aw, too bad. he’s gonna miss out on all the fun!” you joked, returning the smile right back at him. he felt as if cupid pierced an arrow right through his heart as you graced him with your cheerfulness.
“kay-kay! let’s be off!” he giggles, grabbing your wrist and dragging you away. the entire day spent with him was blissful. drinking boba with him, trying pastries together, watching him reluctantly eat it (all for you), taking enough selfies to last til next year, all of it was fun!
there was a good handful of selfies, but also a handful of natural photos. ones of you smiling. ones of you laughing. ones of you just being yourself. he cherishes those photos more than anything, and they’re all reserved for him.
nobody else has these photos but him, and that’s special to him.
“last spot on our tour is the mostro lounge! they have an all new potato dish that is so trending on magicam!” cater giggles, opening the door for you like a gentleman. “thank you, sir.” you chuckle, watching his face slightly turn red.
“no problem~☆!” he winks, going in right after you. an octavinelle student stands by reception and leads the both of you inside, taking you to a booth in the back. the wait for the dish was long, but definitely worth the wait.
cater excitedly took a photo or two and dug in. the hangout was shorter than expected, the two of you wrapping up as he walked you to ramshackle.
“thanks for today, cater. we should hang out together more often! just the two of us.” you placed a swift kiss on his cheek before waving goodbye. he stares at you, a dumbfounded expression covering his face.
he snaps back to reality and tries covering his flustered emotions. “totally! see ya later [MC], byeeee!”
cater skips back to his dorm, excited for the next hangout you two do together.
TREY CLOVER : TAKE MY COAT !
the cold air blows in your face, causing a shiver to go down your spine. “shit.. it’s cold.” you mumble, feeling the temperature only decrease each step you take.
“prefect?!” a voice cuts through the silence behind you, turning to reveal none other than trey clover. “ah, trey. morning.” his eyes were filled with concern, basically seeing icicles develop from your nose.
“where’s your jacket?! it’s freezing out here.” he felt himself shaking from the cold just looking by looking at you. the temperature was wayyy below the average and here you were with no sweater.
“i had to give it to grim,” you sighed, looking at the fuzzy creature walking ahead of you. “he wouldn’t stop complaining about the cold so I gave him jacket to shut him up.”
“is that right?” trey chuckles, taking off his coat and draping it over your shoulders. you feel your cheeks warm up as he ghosts his touch against your neck. he was warm to say the least. “take my coat. it should keep you warm for the time being.”
he smiles, causing your heart to explode. your entire body felt warmer than earlier and your nostrils were filled with the smell of baked goods. should’ve expected that. “won’t you be cold?” you ask, seeing as he now only had a jacket to wear.
it didn’t look warm at all. there was no fleece like there was inside the coat he had handed you. “don’t worry about me, i’ll be fine. i’m more worried that you might catch a cold.” he reassures you, noticing your concerned expression.
“so, where are you off to?” trey asks, now walking beside you. “sam’s shop. i have to buy more snacks, grim ate em all.” you grunt, remembering that horrific scene of grim lying on the floor with a full belly.
trey laughs, imagining the image in his head. “if that’s the case, then how about i bake you some treats? i was on my way to sam’s too.” he suggests, causing your eyes to light up. “really? that’d be great!”
the two of you continue your conversation to sam’s shop, completely forgetting about freezing temperatures. his warm presence (and his incredibly warm coat) was enough for you.
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A/N: hi. it’s been awhile. anyways live laugh love heartslabyul
date published: 2/23/24
© temiizpalce — don’t steal or copy my work!
579 notes · View notes
bosbas · 3 months
Text
Chapter 12: I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, in their friends era... or are they?, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
A/N: I am BACK sorry for my absence I promise I won't leave for that long again <3
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July 12, 1816 – It seems that the summer heat is not the only thing causing a stir within the ton. Recently, the Montclair and Bridgerton families have been seen in each other’s company more frequently than usual. Could there be a more permanent union on the horizon?
Lord Philippe Montclair and Mr. Colin Bridgerton have been spotted in deep conversation on multiple occasions, discussing matters that appear far more serious than the usual lighthearted banter one would expect. Indeed, whispers suggest that their discussions have involved future business ventures and mutual interests, signaling a burgeoning camaraderie between the two gentlemen.
Regardless, the warmth between the two families is palpable, leading this author to wonder if we shall soon hear the sound of wedding bells. Stay vigilant, dear readers. Though no one shall stay more vigilant than this author.
As you walked home from the modiste with Eloise by your side, you noted the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves high atop the trees surrounding you. You had suggested a shortcut back to your respective homes, opting to go through the park rather than the busy streets, and you were mostly thankful for the silence of the greenery around you. Mostly.
“So, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” asked Eloise expectantly, gently nudging your shoulder with hers.
You groaned and screwed your eyes shut, already dreading the conversation, and the evening, to come. “Yes, Mother has been quite insistent that I go. I think she’d kill me if I asked to stay home one more time.”
“I didn’t know we were that bad,” joked Eloise, only a hint of resentment in her voice.
“Not at all!” you rushed to defend yourself, cringing at the fact that one of your dearest friends was upset with you. “You know that it’s just… Well, I’m sure Colin told you everything. I really can’t bear to face him.”
In all honesty, Eloise’s annoyance was warranted. You had spent the past two weeks avoiding the Bridgertons at all costs, only seeing Eloise at balls or in your own home. The only reason you had gone to Bridgerton House today was because you and Eloise were leaving immediately afterward to go get new dresses, and you were certain you wouldn’t run into Colin.
Not only were you still terribly embarrassed by your assumptions of Colin's character, but you also found yourself strangely drawn to him. Now that nothing prevented you from actually liking him, and now that you knew that he was not a horrible person like you had previously thought, you were in a bit of a conundrum. Colin Bridgerton had charmed you, and you knew that if you let yourself, you could very well start to grow feelings for him.
And that wouldn’t do. No, it absolutely wouldn’t. For starters, the two of you had never managed to get along anyway, so you had no idea how you would even live in relative peace were you to have a future. Even so, your father would never approve, no matter what Lady Whisteldown was alluding to. And so Colin was out of the question as a husband or really anything other than a friend.
But while you had been meticulously maneuvering through your social outings to avoid her family, Eloise had slowly been losing patience. She had tolerated whatever had been going on between you and Colin at the beginning of the season, but it was high time that you stopped acting so childish. Especially after Anthony and Kate’s ball, where the two of you had already apologized for your misunderstanding and subsequent feud.
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen him since that night,” scolded Eloise, crossing her arms in a huff. Then, in a humorous tone, she added, “He doesn’t actually look that bad with a broken nose if that’s what you’re worried about. The swelling has gone down considerably.”
Not able to help yourself, you let out a small snort and smiled at your friend. “No, it’s not that. I’m just so embarrassed. Oh heavens, even just thinking about it I can feel my face getting hot. He did tell you about it, right?”
“Yes,” responded Eloise, giving you a very pointed look. “He was very excited about the fact that you didn’t actually hate him. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for two days. Though now I wonder if that really is the case, given your behavior.”
 “Oh, no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands in desperation.
“He was quite embarrassed as well, Y/N,” Eloise reminded you gently. “I don’t see why you can barely stand to be in the same room as him even now.”
“I just-” you started, finding it difficult to explain why you had been so against seeing him, or any of his family, really, after the most recent ordeal with Lord Barlow.
But Eloise wasn’t letting you get away with it any longer. She slowed down her previously brisk walk, looking straight into your eyes as she gestured for you to continue.
“I just wasted so much time and energy fighting with him and I’m so ashamed that your family saw that side of me. I didn’t even know I could be that unpleasant! And to make matters worse, it was all for nothing since I was completely in the wrong.”
“Not completely,” Eloise mused. Colin had been quite kind to you in his retelling of the events, and Eloise was inclined to believe her brother’s account.
With a sigh, your friend turned to face you. “I wish you had told me what you thought of him because I would have either helped you realize your mistake or helped you kill him.”
You laughed again, shaking your head as you realized how lucky you were to have Eloise in your life. Linking arms with her, you patted her hand as you explained, “I was just terrified of the recourse. My parents were so insistent that I ‘act ladylike’ that I was scared of revealing I had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin your perception of your brother.”
“Well, regardless, it will all be resolved at dinner tonight, seeing how you’ll be in attendance.”
A soft sigh escaped your lips.
“I certainly hope so.”
---
As you walked into the dining room, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke with Kate, Colin’s breath was stolen from his body. He already hadn’t been expecting to see you, already growing accustomed to having you avoid him, but seeing you look as beautiful as you did now was completely doing him in.
“Y/N,” he whispered from across the room, unable to tear his eyes away from you.
Feeling an elbow digging into his ribs, Colin turned to see Benedict, smirking as he watched his younger brother. “Might I suggest pulling yourself together if you don’t want to scare her away again?”
“Be quiet,” hissed Colin, but he ran a hand through his hair to regain his composure anyway.
“Benedict!” you greeted, delighted at finally seeing him for so long. “And Colin!” you added, hoping your voice didn’t reveal the nervousness you were feeling.
“Lovely to see you again,” said Benedict brightly, squeezing your shoulder.
Then, feigning some obligation or another, the second Bridgerton slipped out of the dining room to join the rest of your families, leaving you alone with Colin. Benedict had been terribly obvious, but the resulting awkwardness that enveloped you and Colin kept you from noticing his brash exit.
“I’m happy you’re here,” Colin spoke, almost timidly. Then, speaking very quickly, he added, “I was fairly confused when I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to call on you because we agreed to just be friends and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Though now that I think about it, that might have been the decent thing to do."
Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Colin looked down at the floor as he waited for your response.
“Not at all!” you rushed out, wanting to reassure him. “It was my fault entirely. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, I was just a tad embarrassed, as you can probably imagine.”
Colin’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, feeling at ease now that he was certain you didn’t spontaneously hate him again.
“You were embarrassed? I rather think I should be the one feeling that way,” he laughed. “I still find it hard to believe you could have thought I was that... horrid for so long.”
You put your hands over your face and shook your head. “I can’t believe it either,” you groaned.
Sensing you were getting worked up again, Colin instinctively put a comforting arm around your shoulders, pressing you to him. “No, it’s quite alright. I promise I was just…”
Then, suddenly realizing just how close he was holding you to him, Colin stepped away quickly. Instead of apologizing and drawing even more attention to his overstepping, he settled for clearing his throat awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out to you again.
“It was all in jest, I swear,” promised Colin, realizing he had never finished his earlier sentence.
Before you could respond, Violet walked into the dining room, followed by your family.
“Hello, Y/N!” she greeted you, reaching over to put a hand on your forearm in greeting. “I’m thrilled you’re here! We missed you last week.”
You smiled gratefully back at her, internally chastising yourself for ever wanting to avoid this wonderful family. All because you were scared of facing Colin, who, as it turned out, had a singular talent for making you feel at ease.
“You’re seated here, next to Colin,” indicated Violet, gesturing toward a seat near the end of the dining table.
“Oh,” you breathed out, not expecting to have to be in such proximity to him for the whole night. Realizing you had been impossibly rude, you added, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”
Four courses later, you were having the time of your life. You were sitting between Francesca and Colin, and both had been keeping you endlessly entertained as you ate. Speaking to Colin came so naturally that you wondered how the two of you had ever managed to fight so much without ever having a proper conversation, save for one or two. It seemed impossible now, the forgone tension between you. Especially when you had to actively ensure that you were talking to Francesca, too, rather than just Colin. But he was just so easy to talk to, and you simply had so much in common that it was proving quite difficult to focus on anything else.
“Are you excited for your season next year?” you asked Francesca, leaning away from Colin so you could concentrate on speaking to her.
“I suppose I’m looking forward to having something of my own,” she responded after chewing thoughtfully. “An experience of my own, that is. It’ll be quite the luxury, especially being from a family as large as mine. Did you ever feel that way?”
You hummed, thinking back on your season. “I felt that way at the beginning, to be sure. But having seen my older sister’s fairytale romance and having a season that was nowhere near that had me wishing for a season similar to hers in the end.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that-” Francesca started, having forgotten your ordeal with Lord Barlow.
You waved her apology away, smiling warmly at her. “Not to worry, I’m quite well-adjusted now. Perhaps next season will be better, though I’m not sure how unique it will be since I’m heading back to Spain, just as Isabelle did.”
“Are you really leaving?” asked Francesca, partially in shock that you were leaving after only one season. “But-”
“Y/N does,” came a loud voice next to you.
Confused, you turned around to face Colin, who seemed to have gone quite red in the face.
“I hadn’t realized I was speaking that loud,” he said bashfully, nervous now that most everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly. “Anthony was only talking about how I use the night sky to navigate my crew when I travel, and I was pointing out that you are quite knowledgeable in that area as well,” he explained, looking at you with wide, uncertain eyes.
Anthony, who had been at the other side of the table, was struggling to contain his laughter.
“I had no idea Y/N knew so much about the stars,” commented Violet, looking directly at Colin as she did so, an unreadable expression on her face.
Highly uncomfortable at being the center of attention for this particular reason, the third Bridgerton internally cringed and gulped his wine, hoping to wash down some of the discomfort as he did so.
“We’ve only talked about it a few times, but she does seem to be quite the expert,” he said finally.
Feeling charitable, Louis chimed in to change the subject, “I know I’ve been victim to her hour-long lectures about which constellations are visible at any given point in time. Were you thinking of traveling soon, Anthony?”
Letting out a sigh of relief now that the attention was no longer fixed on his thinly veiled infatuation with you, Colin cast a fleeting smile in your direction, eager to gauge your reaction.
But you only smiled amusedly at him, snickering as he gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands with leftover tension.
“Tell Louis I say thank you,” he muttered.
You shook your head. “It’ll get to his head,” you argued.
And Colin’s smile in return was so charming, so roguish, and so handsome that you were tempted to forget your agreement to be friends right then and there.
Ah, that was why you had been avoiding him, you reminded yourself. Colin was far too charismatic for his own good. For your own good, rather.
But you had to remind yourself of what your parents –and society– expected you to find. A man with a title and a fortune. And that was decidedly not a Mr. Colin Bridgerton.
Clearing your throat, you turned away from Colin to face Francesca again.
Friends, you reminded yourself. You were friends with Colin.
---
The Montclair brothers sat in their father’s study, brandy in hand as they so often did after evening dinners ran long and they needed to wind down. Supper with the Bridgertons had been lovely, but the boys had important matters to discuss with their father. Well, important matters to you. But important nonetheless.
“Que pensez-vous de Colin?” asked Jacques, trying to seem nonchalant (What do you think of Colin?).
“Bah, il est assez gentil, mais il est vraiment amoureux,” came your father’s gruff response before he took a long sip of brandy, rubbing his temples (Well, he’s nice enough, but he’s definitely in love).
“Quoi? Amoureux de qui?” pressed Philippe, feigning innocence as if this wasn’t exactly what the brothers wanted Lord Montclair to notice (What? In love with who?).
“De Y/N, bien sûr,” replied your father, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (With Y/N, of course).
That was the tipping point for Louis, who apparently was the only person in the world who wasn't instantly attuned to Colin’s feelings. Forgetting why he and his brothers were so eager to meet with their father and talk about Colin, the youngest Montclair brother set his glass of brandy down in exasperation.
“Putain, comment tout le monde a pu voir ça?” (Damnit, how did everyone else see that?)
---
Laughing quietly at a comment Colin had whispered in your ear, you found yourself truly enjoying a ball for the first time in a very long time. Now that you were past all the hatred and subsequent awkwardness, it was lovely to spend an evening with Colin by your side.
This might have been the first ball you had been to that you hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time sulking at. It was, to say the very least, quite freeing.
Not to mention the absolute entertainment that was watching the third Bridgerton rush from ambitious mama to eligible lady and back to another mama as he attempted to please everyone. You had only been here an hour and he’d already danced three times and spoken with at least four women you knew for a fact he had no interest in.
“Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, it’s lovely to see you again,” came a voice behind you.
Both of you turned around to face Miss Anne McCall, who was looking at Colin expectantly. Amused, you raised your eyebrows at him, too. You could bet your family’s entire fortune that Colin had promised her a dance at some point tonight.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, briefly touching your arm. “Excuse me just a moment, Y/N.”
You nodded, unable to respond because you were momentarily overtaken by the feel of his hand on you. An unfamiliar warmth radiated to you, and you almost stumbled as you tried to regain your bearings.
Looking out across the ballroom, you spotted Colin smiling and laughing as he danced with Miss McCall, who was looking absolutely enamored as he spun her around. You smiled to yourself, glad that your rivalry with him had been resolved and you could simply appreciate the fact that he was a lovely person. Maybe some night you would be the one he was spinning around the ballroom.
Shaking your head to will the mental image away, you made your way to the other side of the ballroom, needing to clear your head.
However, a hand gripped yours and you turned around, surprised. Colin’s relieved eyes met yours and he pulled you closer to him, though still allowing an appropriate distance between you two in case anyone was observing.
“A turn about the ballroom?” he suggested, eyes pleading.
Once again taken aback by how aware you were of his skin on yours, you could only nod, allowing him to place your hand in the crook of his elbow.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I’ve spoken to too many people tonight. If I have to laugh politely at another conversation I’m certain I will dissolve right where I'm standing.”
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, squeezing his arm. “You don’t have to do it, you know?”
“Do what?”
“That,” you said, gesturing toward the dancefloor full of couples waltzing. “You’re allowed to say no.”
Colin frowned, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”
“Why not?” you pressed.
“I- I don’t know, I suppose. It feels like it’s what I should be doing. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Hmm, not particularly. I’ve said no to plenty of men wanting to dance with me, you included,” you nudged him playfully.
“That doesn’t really count, though. Because you’re… you. It doesn’t matter if you say no to every single man asking you to dance.”
“Doesn’t it? You’re also you. So, it doesn’t matter either.”
“No, I mean that…I don’t know what I mean. I suppose that people would still like you even if you said no a lot.”
Your eyebrows shot up as you took in what Colin was saying.
“People would still like you if you said no every once in a while, you know? I know I would.”
Colin shook his head. “It’s still different!” Then, softening his voice, he added, “Because you have… Or rather, because I just don’t have any remarkable qualities beyond people finding me charming or affable.”
“Colin,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. Then, seeing that he was quite serious, your expression sobered. “Of course you have value beyond how much people like you. My word, Colin. You are so clever and so well-traveled. You can orient yourself on a map at first glance, and I doubt you would ever get lost at sea. You know most constellations visible from London, and I don’t even know how many beyond that.”
“Alright, I see your point,” he laughed, secretly wishing you would continue speaking forever. Colin was practically preening at your praise, and he so desperately wished you could want him the way he wanted you. “What do you suggest I do at balls, then, if I'm not dancing with every single member of the ton?”
 “Well, you could start by only dancing with people you want to dance with.”
“In that case, would you like to dance with me?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” insisted Colin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Friends can dance together," a twinge of regret in his chest as he said the words.
But that seemed to placate you, and you placed your hand in his. “I suppose they do.”
With a shaky breath, you prepared for the next few minutes you would spend in Colin’s arms, not quite sure you or your heart were ready to look into his mesmerizing eyes and not fall completely head over heels for him.
But one smile from him, and you were completely at ease. One dance couldn’t hurt, right?
previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!
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hor3nee · 8 months
Text
• Union •
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Gojo and his arranged marriage with Reader.
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CW/TW: Fem! Reader, Arranged marriage, BREIF Suggestive stuff, Corny Gojo, Reader & Gojo ages implied to be very young (18-23), Gojo typical flirting, SFW (Lmk if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Gojo x Reader
AN: Gojo is bitchless in this fic bc I say so. Pt 2 here.
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Weddings aren't supposed to be this boring. In fairness, boring is better than a bad wedding. Could have a roadhouse-type fight between in-laws, an ex breaking through the doors proclaiming their undying love or a runaway bride. Or a runaway groom. Maybe he should've been a runaway groom? Internally, Gojo's sure it'd be more exciting than sitting in a room full of family and 'friends' who are discussing his marriage more than he's even caring to think of it.
"Congratulations to The Strongest and his bride." Another blanked-out random voice says giving polite blessings to him and the lady dressed in bridal wear beside him, you.
Satoru Gojo, the strongest, they call him, well he calls himself, and yes, he is, he without a doubt is the strongest. Born with the Six Eyes technique after ages of the Gojo clan, while relevant in the Jujutsu world, unable to have a child with such technique for so long, Gojo was instantly hailed heir, no questions asked.
And with all of that, comes responsibilities, that, as immature as the man acts, he does take care of. Responsibilities include many things other than killing curses though, responsibilities include managing the clan, doing his part in Jujutsu society, mentoring the students and keeping peace with the other clans. Just to list the few, less action-based responsibilities. Marriage is an obvious one as well.
And you're the bride.
He knew it was coming. It wasn't specifically because he was the strongest he was gonna be strung into a marriage as quickly as possible, though that played a role in it. He saw it with his parents, relatives, and the other clans, Zenin especially who practiced it most rigidly perhaps, marriage was a necessary part of holding a certain status, it's simply expected. Arranged are ideal.
It's not that he was forced into it either, everyone knows this is Satoru Gojo, he does whatever he wants. He gets whatever he wants, he's spoiled, both by the hands of Jujutsu society that almost worships him for his abilities and his own self, the ego he holds very proudly and very loudly that he shamelessly keeps up. If he wants something, he takes it, if he doesn't, he'll leave. He holds that sort of irrefutable power.
So he's okay with this, with marriage. With an arranged marriage, to you, whatever his reasons are that much is clear.
"You gonna eat that?" He's not asking really, he's already got his freakishly long arm drawled out on the table grabbing the plate out of yours. Fingers wriggling comically and he doesn't even make eye contact, looking at the slice of cake with a deeper passion than he bothered to look at you with. Not that you're expecting it, but.. you are the bride, he is on board.
"..Uh guess not." Is all you can reply, slightly awkwardly as he snatches the slice and gobbles it, humming like an overgrown toddler. Was he feeling as awkward too? He didn't look it, he looked fine, bored out of his over-active mind but not mad or anything. Much less mad at you, nor nervous. You're sat close, right by his side, being the main events the two of you of course, Gojo more so because he's the main event in everything in his life.
"This shit's good." He's moaning now, at cake. Almost makes you cringe but with that huge grin of overabundant confidence he has, he somehow makes it seem less cringe.
"Wedding cake's always good-" He gulps down another piece as he speaks. "Best part of any wedding."
Was that?.. Was that an insult? Felt like it, you're sat there all prettied up prim and proper to marry him, and you know he accepted this marriage and he's calling the cake the best part of the wedding? No, you can't even blame him. If anything you probably agree, save for the overly expensive gifts of cold hard cash the other clans and guests were leaving those were also good parts. Because this is, arranged.
You two, are, for the most part, strangers to each other. Together yes, married actually since you and him signed the legal documents no less than 10 minutes earlier into the wedding.
Still, it's awkward.
Soon the cake is gone, mostly by Gojo's abyss of a stomach, and the guests leave. Caterers clean up and family members give some last tidings before leaving. As well as you, and Gojo.
"So, do you think I'm hot?" He perks, sprawled on the couch with his formal wear lazily pulled off scattering around the floor from when he took it off the instant he was inside the residence. His residence, of course. A grin showing no signs of the tense awkwardness one would expect a young man freshly married to a wife he's only married to through arrangements would be. But no, he's Satoru Gojo, if there's one thing he has, it's an overwhelming amount of self-assurance.
"Do I- Do I think you're hot?" You reply, standing a bit awkwardly in front of him, still trying to process the fact you're sleeping here tonight, no for the rest of your life you'll be sleeping in this house. Home, you should call it, it is your home now. Might take time to properly digest that but it is.
"Yeah, am I hot?" The question is, by his expression, obviously self-explained. He IS attractive, with pretty big blue eyes, tall and decently built, and gorgeous lips too, he knows it, he knows he's hot. Gojo just likes to tease, he's a little shit. 
"I mean, am I attractive to YOU?" He asks again, putting more emphasis. For all the slightly passive-aggressive things he's said the evening and immature behaviour, the question is poised genuinely. He's smirking, humming almost as he asks but the way he looks at you it's also clear that he is asking you, seriously.
His gaze never breaks with yours, and though you only take a second to respond, it feels like an hour with the heavy weight of the situation in your brain and the almost stinging feeling of his wide baby blue bright eyes piercing through yours waiting for your response.
"You... Yes, you are attractive." He is, he knows that already though and that wasn't what he was asking. But you know that wasn't what he asking. His expression doesn't falter though, but there's an obvious disappointment, boredom more specifically in it at your lack of response. You're talking but the words are white paper plain, even you can taste it on your tongue, how chaste you sound. 
"I think you're attractive, too." His reply is more genuine than yours as well, maybe not genuine but a lot more emotion in it. Maybe he's just more confident, which he is no doubt. 
"Thanks-"
"Like, seriously." He whistles, christ that's jarring. "seriously hot." 
He's up off the couch before you can give another disingenuous 'thanks' and standing right in front of you, eyeing you down with little to no attempt to act ceremoniously, which he was showing at least the faintest ounce of at the wedding earlier. That gawky tension of whatever the hell the two of you have going on is back, but not for Gojo. He doesn't even have a semblance of humility in him to feel that tension that's burning inside of you right now.
"We're supposed to like each other, you know." He adds, keeping his eyes trained on your body shamelessly.
It feels like his hands are folded around you but they aren't, they're hanging loosely by his side all dangly as his limbs are, the man is a giant. It's more a feeling, suffocating, as though you've been cornered when you aren't. It's the middle of a decently spaced living room and the front door is unlocked. And Gojo, as devious as his smirk is, would never hold you by the binds of a pressured marriage. If anything, you were almost under the assumption he didn't care for you, or this marriage.
"I guess, yeah." You start. "You like me then?" You finish, a bit bolder now, he's seamlessly talking and you are married now, till death do you part as they say. Might as well match his energy.
"You bet I do, sweetheart." Petnames? Okay maybe too much, he might need to dial it down. But Gojo is Gojo, the strongest, an eccentric man. He doesn't 'dial it down' for anything, or anyone. You're his wife, and he likes what he sees. Smiling as he speaks, genuine and concise in his words, he means what he says. As confusing as this situation is, he is young, he's accepted it, and not begrudgingly at all. "I got me a pretty wife- you, you're my wife, so I like you." 
"Thanks Gojo." Ah, there it is, not disingenuous. Though minimal he picks up on it, you also mean it. Maybe not in the way he means it, maybe more than he means it, who knows, not him. Confident as he says he is with the ladies, he's never actually been with one before, this whole relationship shtick, marriage shtick, is new.
Marriage is built off of love, his elders told him, he saw in shitty rom-coms and pop songs blasting the radio. He'd like that, love, as much immaturity and disregard he’s shown at the wedding, the engagement, the arrangements when he first heard they'd picked a partner for him, it has appeal. And he wants it, and this woman, you, you're going to be the one to give it to him, love. Not today, not tonight. Maybe not in a month or a year, but it'll grow, and fester over time. He's sure, as he is in everything, this marriage will last.
"I'm tired as hell from all that wedding crap," Gojo says, his feet ever so minimally backing off so he isn't smothering you with his presence and wide sapphire-like eyes boring into your understandably unsure eyes. "There's a guest room, I'll sleep there and you can take the main bedroom-"
"I can sleep with you." You cut him off.
"In the guest bedroom??" He questions with a blink, okay so he's a bit stupid. That's okay though.
"No, with you, in our bedroom." You correct him, feeling more assured now, eased by Gojo's, thankfully.
"Right." The cheeky grin is back. Actually, it isn't very annoying anymore, it's kinda attractive. He is attractive that much is sure, but he's starting to be attractive to you. "Let's go sleep in OUR bed then, how's that sound?" 
"Sounds good."
It's oddly domestic, the walk to the bedroom he previously had all to himself, showing you the way, and showing you the bed you're gonna be sleeping in for the rest of your days. The way his slender fingers, which you were almost sure would poke out your eyes, gracefully helped you dissemble the layers of jewelry and fabrics you were dolled up in. His touch was feather-light, in stark contrast to his smug demeanour, making it clear, the boy has never undressed a lady.
Nothing goes further than that though, he doesn't push for anything more, and considering how new and confusing everything still is, you don't either. Instead choosing to lay back, and shut your eyes beside Gojo, letting exhaustion overtake you both and just sleep for the night.
Sleep beside your husband.
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ohimsummer · 9 months
Text
✎ . . .❝ WHO DID IT? ❞
—poly!satosugu xmas shenanigans, satosugu x reader, justice for satoru he just wanted to make candy canes !
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The day was going well. Splendid, even. It’s almost Christmas, and the chilly weather makes sure to remind you, flakes of snow peppering the ground and crunching beneath your boots. You’ve completed the task of some nice, last minute shopping for your husbands’ students, picking up some coffee orders, not forgetting a few of Gojo’s favorite desserts from that same coffee shop, and then you were back home in no time. Walking inside, you’re engulfed with a feeling of warmth and coziness, the smell of sugar with a hint of peppermint permeating in the air. Your call of ‘I’m back!’ suspiciously goes unanswered, but you assume your husbands are either distracted or out of earshot.
The honeyed scent of sugar grows stronger as you enter the kitchen, setting bags of gifts and groceries on the floors and countertops. Speaking of countertops…your brows knit, mouth agape in absolute shock as you really take in the center of what was once gorgeous marble. You hear Gojo’s boisterous laughter in the living room, Geto’s faint conversation underneath, and make a beeline straight for them. Upon your arrival, Geto spots you first, and the wide-eyed glance he shares between you and Gojo is very telling.
It’s a simple question.“Who did it?”
And yet getting an answer, at least from one of them, is like pulling teeth.
Satoru halts mid-sentence, turning to beam innocently at you, ignoring the bitter look in your eyes, out for blood. If Suguru’s simmering glare at his idiot counterpart is any indication, then you’ve already gotten your answer.
Said idiot is so good at playing dumb, as if something like this isn’t obviously his doing. “What’s wrong, baby?”
A small breath of exasperation leaves Geto as he takes in the interaction. He thinks Gojo is really in for it this time, he can tell by your body language alone that you’ve got some choice words for this man. Maybe you’ll actually kill him this time. Geto chuckles a good riddance, so low even he can barely hear it. Can’t afford to show too much amusement, lest he get caught in the whirlwind of your fury.
Your foot taps, impatient. Brand new countertops. Not even a month old, they told you to consider them as part of an “extra early Christmas gift”. Ruined with large, faded, circular marks right in the center, on display, and faintly reeking of peppermint.
Suguru grows hot as your furious gaze shifts to him, finger with a mind of its own as it points to Gojo. “He wanted to make candy ca–“
“What the hell, I thought we had an agreement?”
“I’m not taking the fall for this with you over that dumbass idea.”
“Dumbass? You were on board when I suggested it!”
“And that was my mistake for assuming you’d done more than five minutes of research and knew what you were doing.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to get in the spirit of Christm– ow!”
The sharp pinch on his ear leaves Satoru yelping like a hurt dog, stumbling along as you drag him into the kitchen, and Geto takes extreme joy in the small snippets of Gojo’s excuses as he fails to plead his case.
“Baby, my extremely beautiful, lovely, gorgeous wife, I just miscalculated a little, a tiny mist–“
“Mistake?” With your incredulous tone, one can only imagine the look on your face right now. “Look what you did to the countertop, Satoru, don’t come in my damn kitchen tryna be a professional chef or candy maker or whatever!”
A groan. “Technically,” and Suguru cringes immediately, head sinking back on the couch. “It’s all of our kitchen.”
The immediate silence afterward is heavy enough to weigh down a bear. Followed shortly by Satoru’s meek “Ya know what, you’re so right, baby. Your kitchen.”
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bellesdreamyprofile · 2 months
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benny and y/n : the bonfire (part 4)
TW: manhandle, imply of rape, mentions of murder, abuse, murder
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“If you’re leaving, then you’re leaving with me.”
Your body immediately covered up with goosebumps at his unfamiliar words and unwanted touch. You gave your best to stay calm and talk him out of whatever he was thinking of doing.
“Please if you wanna leave… We can leave, just please don’t touch me.”, shaky hands matched your shaky voice, but the man simply laughed and pressed harder, making you wince.
“Oldest trick in the book, baby.”, he pushed his lips to your ear, making you abruptly turn away. Your tears were already filled up with salty tears, unwilling to realize the reality you were in. “Maybe this could be fun… Take a couple of guys and…”, he laughed and dragged you along with him. “Maybe show Benny how a real man fucks a woman.”
You drew your eyes shut as you suddenly felt nauseous. No, no, no. That disgusting excuse of a man was not going to force you into anything you didn’t want to do. You firmly planted your feet to the ground and trashed your fists against his torso.
“You bitch—“
“I’m not going anywhere!”, you yelled at him and finally managed to get his hands off you. You sighed in relief, holding back a sob of exhaustion.
“What the hell is going on, man?”, a man wearing his same denim jacket approached the two of you. His eyes moved from him to you, eyes wandering up and down your frame. And to your terror, a small smirk started appearing on his face. “Oh you got a good one tonight.”
Your lips parted at their exchange. “Please… This man… He wanted to hurt me…”, your words were a mere whisper over the chitchat in the background. The two men looked at each other and let out a laugh.
“Hurt ya? He wanna show you a good time, baby.”, you shook your head repeatedly as he patted his friend’s shoulder and left. You felt your arm being grasped again as he pulled you to his chest.
He harshly grasped your chin and tilted it up to meet his eyes. “Pull one more stunt like this and I’ll kill you.”, you couldn’t nod or shake your head at his words, and as cowardly as it was, you accepted your faith.
You were going to pull one more stunt.
You planted your feet to the ground once again, forcing him to turn around. You stepped on his foot with all of your weight and pulled your arm away. The man groaned in pain and hunched over, wobbling like the drunk he was. He lifted his head up and looked left and right for you, not realizing you were there in front of him.
So you used it to your advantage and punched him in the nose.
“Ow.”, you shook your fist and cringed at the crack you immediately heard. Your gaze set on him, who started howling like a wounded animal. At the sight of him weak, you hastily started making your way to the bonfire, desperately wanting to get to Kathy and get the hell out of there.
The man’s hands covered his bloody nose, but his eyes snapped on you again. He shook his head and wiped the blood on his pants, straightening up with a grunt.
“I done told you… One more stunt and I’ll kill you.”, he muttered under his breath and wobbled towards you. The fire crackling and the loud bickering prevented you from hearing the man’s footsteps behind you. Within seconds he had his arms around your torso and angrily threw you to the grass covered ground. 
You let out a scream as you felt your head land on something sharp. You instinctively brought your hand to touch the painful spot and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of blood. You slowly blinked and looked at the man towering above you. He wiped the blood off his nose and crouched down.
“I told ya, baby. I offered you a good time and this is what you get for refusing it.”, he trapped your lower body by sitting on you, making you cry in agony. “Now take it!”, the same hand that wiped off his blood, now punched your left cheek. Your head turned and more tears started falling as the realization settled.
Your legs started kicking and your screams started getting louder, but the sloppy punches didn’t cease. “Please, stop—“, you begged crying and that was when his body was lifted off yours. You touched your sore cheek and started sobbing at the feel of his dirty hands touching your skin.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?!”, you caught an angry voice - Johnny, the guy who was smoking with Benny. But you couldn’t lift your head up, the pain being too overbearing. 
So you sighed as you found the strength to keep your eyes up to the dark sky, wondering if that was the last time you had the privilege to look at the stars. They were shiny and bright, the perfect view before you let darkness engulf you.
“You don’t get to fight with a man like that, alone with a woman. You disgusting son of a bitch.”, Johnny’s guys held the drunk guy back, his moans in pain were nothing compared to your cries of help. There was one person missing in that half circle.
“What’s going on?”, Benny brought his cigarette to his lips and looked at Johnny with raised eyebrows. He looked at the man held back by Zipco and Cal, recognizing him as the drunk from half an hour ago. “The hell did he do?”
Zipco looked over Johnny’s shoulder and nodded. “Wanted to teach that chick a lesson.”, he answered, making Benny slowly turn around. Johnny looked wearily at the guy and almost felt bad at what was gonna happen to him.
Benny’s brows furrowed in confusion, refusing to believe that the person on the blood-stained grass was you. He looked over his shoulder and noticed the guy’s gaze on him already.
“If it’s my girl over there you messed with…”, Benny said lowly and turned around fully, taking slow strides towards the man. He took out his pocket knife and snapped it open. “You’re dead.”
The drunk man tried to scramble away, but both men hissed at him, holding him tighter.
 “Johnny.”, Benny called from over his shoulder. He let out a deep sigh and crouched down in front of the man. “Please check.”
Johnny looked at him and then back at Zipco and Cal, sharing the same uncertain look. But someone beat him to it.
“Oh my god!”, Kathy’s voice rang in the air, the desperation in her tone was evident. Johnny took a step back and watched her cradle her friend as her wild eyes took notice of the situation. “Y/N.”, she called and started slapping you a little. “She’s barely breathing.”
The hairs on the back of Benny’s neck stood up, turning around again. The sight of you all bruised up on Kathy’s lap barely breathing ignited something he didn’t know he had inside of him. Benny dropped his pocketknife on the grass and harshly grabbed the man’s collar.
“What did you do to her?”, his calm tone made Johnny look over in confusion. He walked to Kathy and picked you up in his arms, walking away.
Kathy’s gaze moved from Benny and then back to Johnny. “What’s he gonna do to him?”
“What he did to her.”
“I’m going to ask you one more time, you bastard.”, the man sobbed pathetically, internally predicting his ending. “What. Did. You. Do. To. Her.”, Benny pushed, gripping his collar tighter. He didn’t see left from right - he saw red. 
“I-I gripped her arm.”, he managed to say through broken sobs.
Benny shook his head and let go of his collar. “You gripped her arm? Like this?”, he grabbed the man’s arm and squeezed it as tightly as he could muster.
“Explain why her pretty face was all bruised up, you pathetic son of a bitch.”, Benny let go of his arm, fighting the urge to kill right there. It was gonna happen nonetheless, however he wanted him to suffer as much as his girl did. If not even more.
“Answer me!”, he yelled out, the man involuntarily flinched.
“I-I hit her.”, Benny nodded and clenched his jaw, looking for the knife he had dropped before. He quickly picked it up and twisted it in his hands, finally standing up from his crouched position.
“You hit her. You hit a defenseless woman. Like this?”, Benny threw a hard punch at him, making Cal and Zipco abruptly separate. The man fell to the ground and covered the side of his face, groans of pain fell from his lips.
Benny walked towards him and grasped his collar again, throwing him against the grass with his face towards him. “Or maybe it was more like this, huh?”, he threw another punch and suddenly his inner beast was unleashed. There were no calming words or confident strides coming from him anymore, just angry, bone-cracking punches.
His own actions towards you made him punch even harder. The way your innocent, teary eyes were so happy to see him, made his heart shatter. Why did he have to be so prideful? Was there really something wrong in admitting that he found happiness somewhere other than the club?
All of this could’ve been avoided if he had just let you stay.
Benny screamed as he threw his last punch. Cal quickly walked up and pulled him back by wrapping his arms around his torso. “That’s it, man. One more and you’ll kill him.”, he breathed heavily and suddenly felt the weight of his pocketknife weighing on him. He tried to reach for it, but Cal pushed his hands away. “No, man. It´s over.”
Zipco looked over at the man and crouched down. “He ain’t breathing no more.”
She’s barely breathing.
A/N: goddamn. already have ideas for part 5, folks. hope this chapter wasn't too crappy xx
PART 5
MASTERLIST
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 4 months
Text
early chaggie early morning where vaggie gets a hug
inspired by @sunsetcougar's headcanon idea of vaggie wrapping herself in blankets despite hell's heat for.... reasons :(
Vaggie: "Ugghhgh...." (slouches into kitchen) (wrapped in blankets)
Charlie: "Vaggie!" (singing) "Good moooorning~!"
Vaggie: "Mornin' sweetie... why is it morning..." (bumps into table) (slumps over it) "Fuck. Ow." (oozes into chair)
Charlie: "Aww." (sad pout) "Didn't get much sleep again, huh."
Vaggie: "Nnngh. Didn't."
Charlie: (cringing) "I wasn't, uh, kicking you was I? With the hooves- "
Vaggie: "I'm too short for you to reach."
Charlie: (grinning) "Which means you're just the right size!!!"
Vaggie: "Means I need my weight in additive simulant substances..."
Vaggie: (tries to stand) (BANG)
Vaggie: (slams into table again) "Fuck."
Charlie: "Vaggie!?"
Vaggie: (rubs missing eye) (muttering) "It's fine, 'm fine.... pinche pendejo.. mi ojo... just need coffee."
Charlie: "!! Don't stagger up! I'll make it!"
Vaggie: (slumping face down) (muffled) "m'love you."
Charlie: "Ha!" (laughing too hard) "Oh you- you'd love anyone who made coffee after a bad night's sleep-"
Vaggie: "No. Anyone else I'd just kill for it."
Charlie: (grinning) "Maim them, maybe."
Vaggie: "You have too much faith in morning me."
Charlie: "I love morning you~"
Charlie: "...."
Charlie: (stares around wildly for topic change) "A- anyway, um-" (spies vaggie's blankets) (actually frowns)
Charlie: "Aren't you hot?"
Vaggie: (groggy) (half awake) "Depends if I'm your type, I guess."
Charlie: "My ty- Shit!" (cup she's holding starts boiling) "No I meant-"
Vaggie: (looking up) "Coffee?"
Charlie: "-not that you AREN'T, because I mean really just LOOK at you, I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't w- but- What? Oh."
Charlie: (hands over coffee) "Careful. It's um. Hot."
Vaggie: "Thanks." (carefully not looking at Charlie) (muttering) "Hot just like everything else in hell is..."
Charlie: "THAT'S what I meant!"
Vaggie: "Guess that does make me hot since I'm here too now."
Charlie: "Yes right exactly, the hotness- hell's hotness- you're still not used to it! Not that the eternal searing flames of literal hell is something anyone should necessarily be expected to get used to, aside from me and the other hellborn- though not all of them like it here either, even if the other rings are more varied and sometimes have things like plants and weather- but for you, stuck here in the pride ring, in the purely physical sense I'm wondering because-"
Vaggie: "Charlie."
Charlie: "-it just seems like maybe there's kinda an easy way for you to at least FEEL less hot in the mornings and night? Again only in the purely physical sense, since you never do stop looking-"
Vaggie: "Sweetie."
Charlie: "-yes?"
Vaggie: (smiling) "Low caffeine, low word capacity. Cliff notes?"
Charlie: "Oh, right!" (laughs)
Vaggie: (watches) (remining eye soft)
Charlie: "Um- what's with the wrapping yourself in all those blankets? Normally you wear less than me and still complain about the heat. Feels like I'm missing something."
Vaggie: "Can't have your brilliant brain starving for knowledge can we."
Charlie: "No that's fine- I just want you to be comfortable!"
Vaggie: "Well you're right about the missing part."
Charlie: "I am?" (sits) (leans in) "Ooooh, what Vaggie lore am I missing?"
Vaggie: (snorting) "Vaggie what?"
Charlie: "Lore, but I- I'm not writing any of it down!!!"
Charlie: "...much."
Vaggie: (lifts cup) "I'm getting royalties in coffee so it's fine. Write whatever you want in your diary."
Charlie: "I wanna write what I somehow missed out on while observing you!"
Charlie: (scoots chair closer) (chin in hands) (Staring)
Charlie: "I've been observing a normal amount, to be clear. Juuuust in case last part was kinda alarming or worried you."
Vaggie: "I'm not. It didn't."
Charlie: "Okay! So...?"
Vaggie: "It's not you."
Vaggie: (looks away) (sips coffee)
Vaggie: "More of a... 'me missing something' thing."
Charlie: ".....er."
Charlie: "...you've, um." (clears throat)
Charlie: "You do have something on under the blankets. R-right?"
Vaggie: "Yep. Just like you've still got those red cheek spots under your blush."
Charlie: (covering blush with hands) (stubbornly NOT looking away) "So if your clothes aren't missing- what is?"
Vaggie: "My wings."
Vaggie: (gulps hot coffee and winces)
Charlie: "..."
Charlie: "...do the blankets feel like them?"
Vaggie: "No." (another gulp and wince) "They were heavy."
Charlie: (drooping down onto table) (head on folded arms) "Wings are heavy...?"
Vaggie: "They're alive. They've got, mass and weight to them."
Charlie: "And warmth?"
Vaggie: "And they can hold you. Like when you fold your arms around yourself."
Charlie: "Like a hug."
Vaggie: (awkward) "Sure. Whatever."
Charlie: "So you miss them, and..." (drooping) "Wrapping yourself in blankets is the closest you get to feeling like you have them again."
Vaggie: "It's not even close at all, really." (hollow laugh) "I'll get over it. Don't worry."
Charlie: "Get over it?"
Vaggie: "Like with the heat, it's just another part of hell. It's fine."
Charlie: "Hmm."
Charlie: (gets up)
Charlie: "Can I try?"
Vaggie: (shoulders hunching) "...try what?"
Charlie: "Being a better blanket, since nothing can really be like your wings were."
Vaggie: "...."
Charlie: "I'm princess of hell, so I get to decide what's hell's like. A, a little anyway."
Charlie: (walks around behind vaggie) "And this might be a bit cooler? I know I run hot along with not noticing the whole hellish heat stuff, but- at least you'd still get airflow. And. I'd be heavier than a blanket! I think?"
Charlie: (lean forward to look at vaggie upside down)
Charlie: "So. Hug? Can I?"
Vaggie: ".... you don't have to ask before hugging me."
Charlie: "You used to jump when I did. Or slip off afterwards to hide in some high shadowy corner of a bookshelf for the rest of the day."
Vaggie: "Don't remind me."
Charlie: "It was cute! But I should've just asked. And this is different."
Vaggie: "It's not." (lets blankets fall) "Knock yourself out."
Charlie: (kneeling behind her) "I'll let go whenever you want."
Vaggie: "Charlie. I'm not a glass vase. Relax."
Charlie: "No, you're not glass- you're you, and you're tense." (hands on vaggie's hunched shoulders) (plays with ends of vaggie's still short hair) "This is a hug. Hugs need waaaaay more carefulness than glass vases do-"
Charlie: "Also! We still need a breakfast that isn't coffee."
Vaggie: "Slander." (drinks) "No we don't."
Charlie: "Yes we do but it can wait. If- wow, you really are tense." (starts rubbing vaggie's shoulders) "How did you sleep like this!?"
Vaggie: (slumping) "I didn't."
Charlie: "Well if you DON'T want breakfast right now then that leaves time for hugs! Or say the word and I'll switch to breaking out the toast and jam, or doughnuts- if Razzle and Dazzle didn't find them- or something."
Vaggie: "I'll probably just doze off again, honestly." (groaning) "Feel free to step over me when I start snoring on the kitchen floor..."
Charlie: "I would never leave you there."
Vaggie: "That's true. Would be trip hazard."
Charlie: "That's not why."
Vaggie: "You could totally trip over me. Stub your hoof or something. I'm not THAT small."
Charlie: "That's not why either."
Vaggie: (sips coffee)
Charlie: (pats her shoulders) "Hug time?"
Vaggie: "Mm." (tenses up again)
Charlie: "Is that a 'mmmrgh yes' or a 'mmrrgh no thanks'?"
Vaggie: "I've told you, you don't have to ask."
Charlie: "Is THAT a yes?"
Vaggie: (sighs) "Yes Charlie. You can hug."
Charlie: "Thanks~"
Charlie: (leans in) (gently with the hug, arms around vaggie) (extra carefully with the squeeze)
Charlie: "...how's this?"
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: (sets down coffee) (touches charlie's arms) "Can I-"
Charlie: "I'll can let go! It's okay-!"
Vaggie: "No, just. You're fine. Let me rearrange you a bit?"
Charlie: "Oh sure!!! Yes! Whatever you want!!"
Vaggie: "Wings are more, they were more like..."
Vaggie: (shifts Charlie's arms around and leans back into her more)
Vaggie: "...it was more like.."
Charlie: (tries another soft squeeze) (whispering) "Like this?"
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: "Yeah." (blinking hard) "It was."
Charlie: "Okay. And that's... okay..?"
Vaggie: "...it's nice."
Charlie: (smiling) "I'm now officially free for wing simulation hugs whenever you want them."
Vaggie: "You gotta sleep sometime, hon."
Charlie: "We share the same giant bed. We can just cuddle!" (butting the back of vaggie's head) "If we can make hell even a little nicer for you, Vaggie, then we should."
Vaggie: "Why both. It's hell for reason."
Charlie: "Because you'll feel better? And that's important?"
Vaggie: "I'm fine with not feel great all the time."
Charlie: "Why though? Vaggie-"
Vaggie: "Builds character."
Charlie: "...Alright." (headbutts again) "Well I'm already quite a character and I like it better when you're feeling better. It makes ME feel better."
Vaggie: “Now that’s definitely important.”
Charlie: “Heh. Just like you.”
Vaggie: (holds charlie's arms as charlie holds her) (doesn't answer)
The Coffee: (slowly cools off while they hug)
-several minutes of hugging later-
Charlie: "...."
Charlie: "How did the wing hugging thing WORK exactly?? You had moth wings, right? Insect wings? I always thought those were pretty stiff- very pretty and fluttery!- but not very bendable. Are some bug wings actually bendy? Or was it more a weird demon thing, like random horns or-"
Charlie: "-Vaggie?"
Vaggie: (slumped) (dozed off on Charlie's shoulder) (breathing softly against crook of charlie's neck)
Charlie: (smiles) "...pretty good hug, huh?"
Vaggie: (snores a little)
Charlie: "Heheh." (smile slipping)
Charlie: "...sorry."
Charlie: (hugs tighter)
Charlie: ".... if I'd just found you sooner, I..."
Cupboard Door: (creaks open)
Charlie: (looks up) (weak smile) "Oh, hey guys- Good breakfast?"
Razzle & Dazzle: (guilty shake off doughnut crumbs)
Charlie: "It's okay. You know she's not much of a morning food person anyway."
Razzle: "Rrr." (flutters into table to peer at vaggie)
Dazzle: (leans back into cupboard)
Charlie: "Oh she's just tired- I'm helping her get some sleep." (actually smiling now) (shifts hind legs) "Um. My hooves might also start falling asleep soon. Maybe you wanna fetch me a pillow or something, please?"
Razzle: (points from vaggie to the floor behind charlie)
Charlie: "Maybe? I think I could shift her into my lap and lean on the cabinets... She feels pretty out of it. One-hundred percent will need a pillow for that though."
Razzle: (flutters off) (pats charlie and vaggie's heads along the way)
Dazzle: (wiggles out of cupboard) (places half an eaten doughnut on table in front of vaggie)
Dazzle: "Ree." (points at doughnut sternly)
Charlie: (giggles) "I'll TRY to get her to eat it when she wakes up. But no promises~"
Dazzle: (huffs) (follows razzle out)
Charlie: "......"
Charlie: (long sigh) (slumps against vaggie)
Charlie: "I'm helping. I can help you- I-" (hides face in vaggie's hair)
Charlie: "...hell can be a happy place too, I promise. I won't let it hurt you again."
....
-somewhere in heaven-
Lute: (sneezes)
Adam: "Go fuck yourself."
Lute: (wiping face with bloodstained sleeve) "Thank you, sir."
Adam: "And take a dunk in the celestial sea or whatever. Extermination was like, months ago- bitch did you even shower?"
Lute: "I did, sir."
Adam: "Went right back into the sinner splattered outfit?"
Lute: "Yes sir."
Adam: "That's gross as fuck." (grinning) "Hardcore. Give me SKIN, bitch!"
Lute: (smirks) (high fives)
Adam: "Even Vagina never went that hard- even when she was fucking you over in kill counts and shit."
Lute: (not smiling anymore) "She was the only one, sir."
Adam: (not listening) "No style! She was boring as FUCK with that lame spear. Stab kill. Stab kill. One hit, no misses, no flying limbs. No fucking CHASES to get the sinner shits really screaming! Just didn't know how to let loose and have FUN with it!"
Lute: "No, sir. And now we know why."
Adam: "Pretty pathetic for one of my girls." (sighs) "Aw whatever. Women, am I right?"
Lute: "She was a filthy traitor."
Adam: "Yeah, pretty much all of you are." (picks at mask teeth) "Lucifer barely counts as a dude either, like, dudes weren't a THING when creation jerked him out. Wanna know why?"
Lute: "You were the f-"
Adam: "CAUSE IM THE FIRST MAN, BABY!"
Lute: "The original-"
Adam: "THE ORIGINAL DICK Father of all winners EVER! And of all those lame-ass losers down in hell, not that they fucking show any respect-"
Lute: "And she will be the last Exorcist ever to betray you."
Adam: "Eh. We'll see I guess. Bet she's fucking regretting it either way, huh?" (grinning) "Probably SEEING the error of her ways.."
Lute: "Realizing she made one hell of a choice."
Adam: "Wishing she hadn't fucking WINGED IT that one time, HA!"
Lute: "We clipped those thoughts pretty quick."
Adam: (slaps lute on back) "That was fucking great. I've got her agonized "oh" face from the wing ripping part as a screen saver- but don't fucking tell Sera that, the saintly seraph virtue prude of a bitch."
Lute: "Never." (smiles) (fingers her sword) "...And thank you, sir."
Adam: "Sword still got some of her blood on it?"
Lute: "Maybe."
Adam: "Now THAT'S gross. Love it."
216 notes · View notes
genshindsau · 7 months
Text
Summary: Scaramouche struggles to accommodate to his place in the harem. It isn't easier when some of the other members of the harem constantly try to talk to him or make him spend time with you. He tells himself he doesn't want to, that he is fine blending into the background and being easily forgotten (is he truly?). Concubine!Scaramouche. Empress!reader
CW: Reverse Harem, cursing, sexual implications, nsfw mentioned but not actually described, mentions of Scaramouche's past (as well as other characters), Scaramouche is rather rude in this and can be degrading to the other members, sexualization, literally just Scaramouche struggling with his feelings, non-sexual nudity.
AN: This wasn't exactly what I originally planned, I ended up including a lot about other characters rather than focusing just on Scaramouche and the readers... oh well. There are also a bit of time skips. Dialogue may be choppy as well, especially towards the end. If its to hard to follow please feel free to let me know.
"I'm just saying, when she does the thing with her fingers…" Childe, as he likes to be called, curled two of his fingers in front of Scaramouche's face. He was wearing a cheeky smile, his eyes glittering as he stared at Scaramouche.
Scaramouche clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as his eyes narrowed at Childe.
Go away. Please. Go away. He kept repeating these words in his head.
"Oh," Childe leaned forward, his chin resting on his palm. "I suppose you wouldn't know."
His words held no malicious intent. There wasn't any pity either. Scaramouche knew that but he still wanted to scream. He also wanted to punch Childe right in his bright, smiling face. He was getting too much enjoyment out of bothering and annoying Scaramouche.
"There is nothing wrong with not defiling myself."
Childe snorted. "Is it really defiling? I mean," Childe shrugged his shoulders. "She is our wife."
"No, she isn't. Neither of us are legally married to her."
"Exactly," Childe snapped his fingers. "We're concubines; Her concubines. We get all the fun."
Fun? What part about being a concubine is fun? Childe is a mindless puppy who will go wherever you ask, do whatever you ask. Even kill whoever you want. He has had the unfortunate experience of seeing Childe covered in blood and a body at his feet. When you appeared, he expected the worse. Expected Childe to be whipped or scarred. Instead, you ruffled his blood-coated hair and said you deal with the clean up.
Why is he even listening to him?
"Look if you really don't want to spread your legs for her," Scaramouche cringed at Childe's words. He had a feeling Childe was making his words as crude as possible to get a reaction from Scaramouche.
He was succeeding.
"Then that’s fine. But you do a really shitty job at hiding the way your eyes linger on her."
"I - I do not!" Scaramouche balked at him, his cheeks heating up.
"Really?" Childe deadpanned.
"I would not consider it! She already has more than enough people who would let her use them. I will not be one of them."
Scaramouche felt like he needed to defend himself. Needed to make himself stand above the others and not be one of the men who succumbs to his position as a glorified body to use. He lasted this long - lasted through multiple masters without ever having to give them his body. He can't allow that to change.
You've never even touched him, his mind whispered to him. Aside from the time you disintegrated his previous collar, you've never laid a hand on him.
Childe quieted for a moment. It unnerved Scaramouche as Childe stared at him. He felt like he was looking into his soul and he almost wanted Childe to keep teasing him. He'd prefer that to how he was now looking at him.
"She's not like that." Childe voiced out. His voice almost stern.
"If you're really not interested, then whatever. That's fine. But don't assume things about her when you haven't even try to understand her. She may be cruel to her enemies but they deserve it. She would never force anyone - never force her concubines or consorts to do anything they didn't want. Whether that is in her bed or in their personal life."
Scaramouche's eyes wavered at the shift in Childe's tone. Childe sounded dangerous right now.
"Why," Scaramouche's voice cracked. "Why would I even want to know her - or understand her?"
"Our lives are dedicated to her. They belong to her, wouldn't you - "
Scaramouche cut him off " - And you're okay with that? Belonging to someone like her. Someone who is part of the Imperial Family?"
Childe cannot be that daft. Everyone knows about the Imperial Family. Knows that no one should trust them. Knows that they are cruel, tyrannical, and would do anything to be the empress. He doubts that you are any different. No, he knows that you are no different.
"Sure." Childe leaned back against his chair, his tone softening now. "She gives me whatever I want. Lets me have some control over my life. Lets me fight. But she also protects those who belong to her. She's stern and callous and can be this terrifying larger than life figure but that does not mean she is going to go down the same path as her family."
"… you can't be so sure of that."
"Just like you can't be so sure that she will turn out like her family. I believe in what I see. Maybe she puts on a certain façade in front of us but so what if she does? She still treats us better than anyone else would."
Scaramouche cant find it in himself to refute anything Childe says. He pointedly ignores the underlying truth in Childe's words. It doesn't matter if you've never laid a finger on him or even so much as spend time alone with him. You're royalty. You're part of the imperial family. That automatically makes you a terrible person in scaramouche's eyes.
Scaramouche was dragged out of his thoughts by the scraping of a chair against the floor as Childe stood up. He stretched his arm above his head before resting a palm on Scaramouche's shoulder, ignoring the flinch that came from Scaramouche.
"If you want to ask anything? Or If you want to try something? Anything? I'm sure she will listen if you ask. You just got to be brave enough to do it." Childe winked at him as walked out of the room, humming happily.
Scaramouche ignored the subtle blow to his character from Childe. He was fine the way he was now. He was fine staying in his room and being an easily forgettable presence (no, he wasn't). He was fine not getting close to you or the others in the harem. Keeping to himself is how he has survived everything he has been through, so he will do what he has always done.
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Scaramouche kept his eye trained on the plate, ignoring the simmering of anger and something else in his gut that he can't name. It was dinner. He dreaded dinner because he was forced to sit with everyone - with you, even though he is about seven seats away. You barely said a word. If it wasn't for the heaviness in the air he might have been able to ignore you and pretend but your presence always left an uncomfortable weight settling around his body - like your engulfing him; all around him no matter how far away he stands.
He wonders if the others feel it. If they do they don't care; or rather revel in the feeling. It just makes him overly conscious.
His hand clenches around the fork in his one hand, turning pale due to the strength as he has to listen to the incessant chattering of the others. It grates on his nerve, rubbing him raw as he has to listen to the happiness that flits from every voice he hears - yet he doesn't hear yours.
He startles as a hand clasps on his shoulders, a good portion of eyes also landing on him. He blinks a few times barely realize someone was calling him. His eyes land on Childe first because of course it does. He then looks to see Venti (fuck), Heizou (double fuck), and finally Itto (well now the world is just being cruel) sitting across from him.
Childe is leaning back in his chair, two of the legs lifting off the ground. "You really have no filter."
It took Scaramouche a moment to realize Childe wasn't talking to him but rather Itto who had an annoying innocent smile on his face. Venti looked somewhere between interested but closed off. His body curls into itself, his shoulders hunching in such a small move that Scaramouche is sure he is the only one who noticed. In the back of his mind, he wonders if these kind of talks drag up old memories for the other concubine - not that he cared enough to learn anything about the others, he just happened to hear about it in passing. Heizou on the other hand has a shit-eating grin on his lips, teeth bared in laughter.
"I - " Itto gawked for a moment. "It's a perfectly normal question."
Scaramouche tried to refocus, to remember what was said but he couldn't.
"Maybe so but asking at dinner, really?"
"Where else am I going to ask? He scurries off like a little mouse whenever he's spots anyone. It's natural to want to know more about each other." Itto is wonderfully dense at times it seems like both a blessing and curse. Scaramouche wants to curse him out but there is no malice in Itto's tone, just genuine curiosity and his words curl uncomfortably in his throat.
"And asking about the time he spent with y/n? That's getting to know him?" Though it may sound like Childe is admonishing Itto, the smile on his lips says the exact opposite. Childe could careless, he was just enjoying the way this would egg on Itto and annoy Scaramouche.
"Besides everyone know he hasn't spent the night with her - or even an evening with her." Heizou was the one who spoke this time.
"That is none of your business!" Scaramouche sputtered out, his ears turning red.
"Seriously?" Itto turned to Scaramouche with wide-eyes. "Why not?" It was an innocent enough question but Scaramouche wouldn't answer - much less at the dinner table where everyone is basically in love with you and not to mention the fact that you are only seven or so seats separated from him.
"It's no use," Childe shrugged. "I've already asked him about it."
"You didn't ask, you interrogated me." Scaramouche gritted back.
Childe just waved a dismissive hand.
"Why complain. As far as I see it, that means more time for us." Heizou spoke up.
"Well yeah," Itto agreed. "But still… you should be able to experience things with her. I mean, you haven't even spent any time with her? At all?" Itto seemed genuinely curious but all Scaramouche could do was grind his teeth as his eyes narrowed at the plate in front of him. He focus on ignoring the embarrassment that caused him to want to curl up in his seat and well just die. He thinks that would be preferable over what he is currently going through. 
He's thankful that he is sat at the other end of the table. Maybe, just maybe there is a chance you didn't hear any of the conversations, the teasing aimed towards him. Yet he knows you did - that is if you decided it was important enough to listen to, you would.
Without meaning to his eyes flickered down to your end of the table. Your head was angled and he followed where he thinks your eyeline would be and landed on Aether and Tigh-nari who appear to be laughing together about something. You're face doesn't even twitch, your lips don't curve upwards but they don't frown either. It's completely neutral, just like it was when he first met you -  when he still belonged to Ei - but it didn't feel nearly as oppressive.
He didn't understand why. Nothing's changed. Not for him.
"I don't want to." He kept his voice low. "And I do not see how it is any of your business or why you keep bringing it up," He glared specifically at Childe who stared back at him.
Itto gaped at him for a second before he shook his head. "We're not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything. I didn't mean to imply anything lewd. But… you don’t want to be involved in anything - whether it is with the harem or y/n. You're going to spend the rest of your life here, with her, with us - with all of us, even the people who seem to be the hardest to get to know want you to be comfortable and happy here. Closing yourself off, distancing yourself… maybe you had to do it in the past but the people here,” Itto shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “What I am trying to say is that no one here wants to hurt you or see you suffer."
The last thing Scaramouche needed is to be told this by Itto of all people. He wanted to scream. Wanted to rip his hair out. Most of all he wanted to rip out the longing that wracked through him at Itto's word. It felt like he was peering down into Scaramouche's soul and voicing out everything Scaramouche had pushed down. Tucked so deep inside of him that even he forgot.
When he was younger, that was all he wanted to hear. After he was taken the first time, he imagined  faceless people who accepted him and loved him but as months passed, then years and then he was sold to Ei, he forced himself to get rid of that pathetic yearning. People just weren't like that. People were selfish and cruel.
Yet, he saw it around the harem building and in the palace countless times. Thoma baking treats for the rest of the harem members just because. Venti who stayed up playing the flute for the others who couldn't sleep. Even Ayato - who Scaramouche deemed the most selfish - would cover the other harem members up in a blanket if they feel asleep anywhere. Aether, who knitted blankets in the winter, not only for the harem members but also for servants and staff.
You… you who never raised your voice at your harem members. You who took in a unconventional men - Itto, Venti - and never made them feel less than because of their background. You who carried them to their beds when they fell asleep. You who…
It doesn't matter. None of it matters. 
"You're sheltered. Naïve." Scaramouche forced out between his teeth. "We're not family. We're not brothers. We're all stuck under the whims of a women who could kill us with a thought." His voice increased in tone as he spoke. He wasn't shouting, but he was loud enough to draw attention to himself. "I will never think of myself as lowly as the rest of you do." He squeezed his eyes shut.
He was telling himself to shut up. Screaming at himself inside of his mind but he couldn't stop.
"I won't settle for debasing myself like the rest of you do. Especially for someone who doesn't even love you back."
There was a small cough and Scaramouche froze. It was silent - no one else at the table spoke and he could feel numerous eyes on him. The color drained from his skin as he hastily stood up, throwing the napkin on the table before quickly leaving the table. He didn't even care for protocol or for your dismissal.
As he fled down the halls, tears of anger and embarrassment burned behind his eyes but he didn't let them fall, even as they blurred his vision. The door slammed shut behind him and he collapsed against it, his head thumping against it as he cursed at himself. Cursed at the others for being so kind to him. Cursed at you for not being as horrible towards your harem as he wanted to believe you were.
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No one spoke to him the next day. Not that he made it easy. He hid in his room, ate his breakfast in his room, stared at the window in his room. He only ever saw the two servants assigned specifically for him. They even brought up dinner for him - telling him that you told them to do that. You probably didn't even want to see his face. He lashed out at the others concubines; concubines you cared about much more than you did him.
It still left an uncomfortable burning in his chest. He made himself vulnerable. He showed too much emotion, not just in front of one or two people but everyone in the harem and yourself. He might as well as starting weeping in front of all them as well.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He blinked, lifting his head from the pillow. He wondered who it was. Servants only knock out of politeness once before entering the room, other harem members just barge in at times. For a minutes he felt a tinge of fear thinking that it was you, but you wouldn't knock either - you had no reason to.
Scaramouche moved to open the door so only a sliver of light creeped through. The first thing he saw was the long red hair, pinned back and the red robe - It was Diluc.
"Can I come in?" He asked softly - like he was coaxing a wild animal. Scaramouche nodded and opened the door further to let him in.
Scaramouche bowed his head, his eyes lingering on the embroidered robe Diluc was wearing. His eyes trailed over the golden patchwork. There wasn't a single stand of hair out of place, everything was perfect. He was perfect.
Diluc's eyes glanced around the room but he said nothing. Scaramouche was expecting an admonishment, something about his bed being dirty or the left over plates on the bed but Diluc's eye's just skimmed right over them.
"I wasn't expecting company." It came out harsher than Scaramouche intended. He had never been alone with Diluc before; barely said a few words to him besides the first few days he was introduced into the harem. Diluc was either  busy, bustling about the harem building or he was by your side.
"I suppose I should have sent a servant or someone to tell you beforehand. I'm sorry if this seems abrupt, I just wanted to… see how you are doing."
"You mean after my outburst." Scaramouche forced out, his voice tight.
Diluc let out a soft, sympathetic sigh. "Yes, I suppose so. Though, I wasn't thinking about it as an outburst."
Scaramouche didn't care. If Diluc was here - all he could assume was one thing.
"So you're here to deal a punishment?"  
"A punishment?" Diluc tilted his head, confusion in his voice.
"I insulted the other concubines. I left before I was dismissed. It's your job isn't it? As the head consort - you deal out the punishments."
"You misunderstand." Diluc shook his head. "Can I sit?" He motioned towards a small couch that was placed in the room. Scaramouche nodded and Diluc sat down, his hands smoothing down his clothes.
"I am not here to give out a punishment. You are not the first to resort to insults or get angry at the others. It is natural that it happens when there are so many of us, and with such different personalities." Even as Diluc spoke, there was a small smile forming on his lips. He almost seems like he is reminiscing as he speaks of the harem members.
Scaramouche takes small steps until he is able to sit across from Diluc, keeping a good amount of distance between the two of them.
"So you decided to what? Come here out of the goodness of your heart." There was distain in his voice as he tried to figure out Diluc's true intentions. "Or are you here to defend the others? Defend y/n? If you are, you can leave. I don't want to hear it."
Diluc just gazed at him, no malice or annoyance in his eyes.
"I am not here to defend anyone. I am here because I wanted to check up on you. I know we haven't had a lot of chances to talk or even get to know each other - that's no ones fault - but, I would still like for you to be comfortable in the harem. Find some sort of enjoyment in the life you are now living."
Scaramouche stared at Diluc, scrutinizing him.
"Why are you all saying that?" He shook his head. "You, Itto, even Childe for fucks sake. All of you go around, stating that I should be happy and appreciate the life I am given." Scaramouche raised from his seat as he spoke. "But all of you - you guys have no idea about how awful this world truly is. How awful it can be. How things can change in a split second. How can you come in here and - and lecture me about life when you and all of the others are sheltered behind the whims of a cruel woman."
There was silence. Scaramouche words continued to float through both of their minds. If he wasn't getting punished, he definitely would now.
"You don't think we're not aware?" Diluc question is so simple and it sends a shiver down Scaramouche's body. There's no heat to his tone and Diluc doesn't appear to be angry. But the way he says it, the small almost pained smile that graces his face, it leaves Scaramouche stumbling over his words.
"I - I didn't mean - I mean…"
"It's okay." Diluc lifted a hand as if to placate him. Diluc's eyes shifted away, as if in thought, before looking back at Scaramouche. "I grew up in a family with three sisters. They were…. terrible. Terrible people. Terrible wives. I would see my brother in laws hiding bruising, hiding their pain. I would hear the comments my sisters directed towards their own husband - comments so degrading and humiliating that even as a young boy, I wanted to curl up and cry just from hearing their words. They would even let others say whatever they wanted. They never defended them. Never did nothing. In fact, sometimes my sisters would egg others on to say even worse."
Diluc remained poised as he talked but there was a shakiness in his tone that betrayed his feelings. Scaramouche's heart clenched in his chest - though, he is not sure why.
"For the first 18 years of my life I grew up around them. Grew up in a family that basically trained me to be a perfect husband, seeing me more as an investment to getting rich than an actual person." A sigh slipped past Diluc's lips. "What I am trying to say is: I know we have different experiences. Everyone in this harem has different experiences when it comes to our time before we entered the harem but try not to let it define how you are going to live the rest of your life. I can't tell you to trust me, or trust the others, or even trust Y/n, that’s a choice you have to decide whether you want to make or not."
Diluc stood up, his movements effortlessly beautiful. He stepped closer to Scaramouche but didn't touch him. "If you do decide to try, you can start with something small. I promise you that, as long it doesn't pose a threat to you or anyone in this palace, it will be fulfilled."
With a small bow of his head, Diluc moved passed him and towards the door. "I hope to see you at dinner tomorrow."
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Start small. Start small. Scaramouche repeated those words inside of his head before letting out an annoyed, disgruntled sound.
His hands gripped at the strands of his hair, longer than he has ever been allowed to grow it out, as he paced around the room. The only light shining through is the moon and the stars - they are the only one's baring witness to his meltdown.
He doesn't want to. Actually, he does. He just doesn't want to admit it. Admitting it would mean allowing everything he pushed down into the small crevices inside of him would come spilling out. One at a time, slowly, over time until he can't stop it and he is overflowing with all the pain and loneliness that he thought he had moved on from.
He wants friends. He wants to be loved. He wants to be cared for. He wants to do things; explore, paint, learn to ride a horse. He wants it so bad that it makes him sick. He wants to be involved. He wants to believe that he is worth more than the shiny collar that used to be fastened around his neck - signifying that he is nothing more than a prize without a voice, without a say.
Not is, he tells himself. Was. He was nothing more than a prize. But, he doesn't have to be. Not if he decides to at least try what everyone else has been telling him.
But what if it goes wrong?
He can handle being dismissed and looked down on right now. He just stuffs the anger and despair down alongside everything else. But if he opens himself up; allows himself to possibly believe that maybe he can fit in and be accepted for himself, and it all turns to nothing… he isn't sure if he will be able to pick himself up again.
It is either do this one thing or don't do it. It's simple. The choice is simple. Pick one, ignore the other, that is all he has to do. It doesn't even have to be a lot of words, just go up, say what he needed to say then leave. If worse comes to worse, he could say the others encouraged him - that Diluc encouraged him. That would at least get you to think before you decided to lash out and punish him for interrupting you with nonsense.
"fuck, fuck, fuck," Scaramouche groaned as if he was in a lot of pain, a string of profanities leaving him, something he would never do in the presence of others.
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He stared at the bronze door in front of him, his eyes narrowed. He pointedly ignored the guards who stood at each end of the halls. He also ignored the looks sent his way when he entered the hall that led to your room. He wonders what is going through their mind when they look at him.
That he is desperate. Pitiful.
Maybe that he finally degraded himself enough to be used.
He raised a hand, his hands forming a fist as he prepared to knock on the door. He stilled right before he brought his fist down. What is he doing? What if you're not even in there? What if you just send him away without allowing him to say anything?
Nope. He's not going to allow that. He is not going to allow you to not listen to him when he had worked up the courage to come all the way up to your room - a place he spend his entire time in the harem ignoring.
Instead of rapping his knuckles against the door, his hand grabbed the two handles and pushed the door open.
It wasn't what he was expecting.
Well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting but not this.
You're room looked every part like it belonged to royalty but there was something else that left it looking almost cozy. In between all the furnished gold, there was tea placed on the table (two cups) and a half-eaten cake. There was a pale-blue silk robe thrown over the couch which he knew belonged to Ayato. There was cushions thrown on the floor along with a blanket. Leaning on the floor against one of the walls he saw numerous painting - some finished, some not - but none of them look like the ones seen hanging up in the halls of the palace.
He couldn't continue to look around the room before one of your personal servant's drew his attention. The servant startled at Scaramouche's unplanned and borderline inappropriate entrance into the room - a resort building on their lips but they quickly clamp their mouth shut as a voice - your voice - echoes from another room.
"Its fine. Leave us."
For a moment he thought you were talking to him but just as quickly the servant bowed to him, though their face screwed up. Their lips pursed like they were looking at some annoying pest. Since you were still in the adjacent room, Scaramouche felt brave enough to send a glare at the servant.
Concubine beats servant - even servants who work directly under you.
He can't lie, it felt nice to do that.
He was left alone in the room now. His feet were frozen to the floor as his eyes lingered on the open doorway, fluorescent light spilling out and into your bedroom. You were in there. You knew he had entered your room and you haven't told him to get out. Not yet at least.
"Are you just going to stand there? Or did you barge into my room without a reason? Unless you finally decided to give up the whole 'Don't talk to me. Don't touch me.' facade. I thought you'd hold out longer."
He flushed as you spoke. Both from anger and embarrassment at being called out. His feet carried him towards the entrance of the doorway, a resort building on his lips.
"I have in no way come here to spend time with you or be... touched."
"But you do want to talk." It wasn't a question. You seemed to already know why he had stormed into your room and now...
His eyes widened.
He had walked right into your bathroom and there you were. You were in a huge tub, naked but the water and suds covered you from the neck down. You still had your eye's covered as well.
His brain failed him. He couldn't form any words and a redness blossomed on the tip of his ears.
"You're leering."
"I am - I am not." He sputtered.
"Wanna join me?"
"Absolutely not."
You shrugged. "Then you're going to just stand there?"
"I - no I am not. I just came to -"
"To what?"
Scaramouche pursed his lips. His eyes flicker around the room, looking everywhere but at you.
"Diluc," he figured this would be the safest way to start. "Diluc said I should come and talk to you. The others did as well."
He trailed off awkwardly, expecting you to say something to him but you didn't. Instead you just leaned back against the tub.
"I wasn't going to."
You just hum.
"I thought it was a ridiculous idea but I just want to make things clear. I - I am not here to be one of your bodies to use. Or for you to assume that I am going to do whatever you ask me just because you're... you. I've spent enough of my life being surrounded by women who try to dictate everything about my life from what I eat to what I wear.
"I have no desire to understand you or get close to you. But I will apologize for the way I acted towards the others - your concubines and consorts, I mean. They - they are not you and just because I don't like you doesn't mean I should have been so... callous with the others and lashed out during dinner."
He let out a shuddering breath, a weight lifting from his chest as he said everything he wanted to say. He didn't realize just how nervous he actually was before coming into your room. His body feels limp.
You, however, didn't say anything for a short while.
In the back of his mind, he bet you enjoyed seeing him shift uncomfortably, a small sheen of sweat forming on his skin.
"Very well then."
He blinked at you.
"So that's it then." He stared at you, his eyebrows furrowing.
"That's it. Why? Where you expecting something else."
"Well no. I just - you're not angry. I mean at me insulting you earlier and then coming in here and basically saying I'll never," He trailed off, not sure why he was trying to explain anything to you - not when you don't seem to care.
You laugh softly. The sound ringing in his ears. "I was angry but not at what you said about me. You think you're words were insulting? They were the truth. Besides I've been called much worse." You shrug. "What I was angry at was your blatant disregard and disrespect for the others. But it appears that you've changed your mind and realize that you shouldn't blame them just because of your hate for me so no reason to linger in the past."
"You almost sound like you actually care about them." This slipped out before he even realized what he said. Perhaps after what he said earlier, after confronting you, he finds it harder to hold his tongue.
Your lips tighten but other than that you don't say anything. You don't agree or disagree with his statement.
"So you don't love them? Even though all of them seem like they are deeply in love with you."
You don't answer and Scaramouche thinks he screwed up.
"Does love have to be the only reason I take care of those under me? Can't there be any other reason?"
"Selfishness? Control? Pride?" Scaramouche spoke without thinking.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Scaramouche swears he see's your lips twitch. "I may not love them but they're mine. I protect what's mine."
So, he was right about some things.
"So it is pride and ego."
"…"
"…"
You shift in the tub, your head falling back against the marble. His eyes flicker down to your throat, watching as a bead of water travels down your skin before snapping his eyes back to your face.
"Most of them are innocent to the truth of the world." You broke the silence after a minute.
"They know men are deemed lesser in this society but they haven't experiences the harshness that the world can offer. Not like you have or Venti or Diluc."
He doesn't see how this answers his previous questions.
"Do I love them? No. I don't believe I am capable of loving anything. But, I care about them. About what they can do - both for me and for themselves. I don't want them to whither away in a society that takes everything from them and become a shell of who they are and what they want to be in the future."
Your fingers drum against the marble of the tub, a small sound echoing in the bathroom.
"You see me as a horrible, cruel person and in some ways, I would say its true. I don't care about the lives of people outside of this palace - not even the people I am meant to. I don't feel anything when I take the lives of others - whether they are enemies or just people fighting because they have to. Sometimes, I even enjoy it. That alone would have everyone labeling me as cruel and even sadistic and I would agree. However, I protect them, ensure they have a good life because I need to. I need their support. But… the people in this palace - they are my people. I want to keep them happy, keep them sheltered, keep them protected; and I'll do whatever that takes in order to guarantee that."
Your head lifts from where it was resting against the tub. He can't see your eyes, the cloth still covering them, but he can feel your gaze penetrating him. The sudden pressure around him is becoming a constant whenever you decide to gaze at him.
"Now, that includes you too. You were a war prize originally, that much is true. You were a means to insult Ei but now you are one of my people. You may just be a concubine but I don't want you clinging to your old life and your old ways of thinking that you need to isolate yourself to survive."
He hated the way you see through him. This is the most you've talked to him - ever; and yet you read him without a problem. It leaves him feeling naked and bared in front of you, even with all of his clothes still on.
"Think what you want about me. I don't care. But the others, they are good and pure and kind. At least open yourself up to them. Each of them will take you in with open arms and love and care about you in ways you may have forgotten."
Scaramouche wasn't sure how to reply to all that. You weren't being vulnerable or even truly opening up to him but there was something in your words that left him shifting on his feet.
"And if I don't want to?" His voice came out shakier than he wanted. His eyes glued to his feet rather than looking at you.
"Then don't. Spend the rest of your time in the harem alone and miserable." You waved a hand like it meant nothing to you.
"I can make sure your fed and healthy but other than that everything else is you're choice."
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starringthesturniolos · 3 months
Text
bite me(part 5) matt sturniolo
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part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5
summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.
contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), dark themes, death, smut (not in this part)
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matts pov.
"okay, you guys should feel different any minute now" Madi says before giving me a look. a look that says what I am doing is stupid. judging by the sadness that's roaming in my chest, I'm guessing y/n thinks its stupid too. why does she care, its not like she likes me, I think to myself. but even as I think it, I can't help but cringe at the loss of emotions I would have from getting rid of the bond. sure, it was annoying sometimes, but hell, Iife gets a little boring when you've been living for so long. its easy to go numb and become desensitized, and that's what made y/n an anomaly. even before the mating bond, she made me feel things. even things I didn't want to feel like annoyance and anger.
I look over at her and I can't help but stare. she's so pretty, I think even as the bond fades into a dull nothing.
"quite staring, your freaking me out" she says looking at me. I can see the tears in her eyes, and ,even though the bonds gone, I know she wishes there weren't any. I knew her and I knew that she didn't like to feel like others had power to make her sad or upset. she never wanted to lose control. I can't help but note how much I know about her. more than I thought I knew.
I look away and grab her arm and sigh at the fact that there are no tingles or heat that flash through me this time. "I'll take you home, it's been a long night." and so from there we head back to the car. shit, I almost forgot about chris. I open my phone to call him, but I see a text notification from him instead. "I'm going to stay, the spell could take all night for me" it says. I can't help but wonder how someone can take away the pain of losing a mate, but shrug it off. if I knew I'd be a magic user, not a vampire. and I wouldn't be standing here awkwardly with a girl I hated two days ago. a girl I wish I could comfort, but don't know how too. we climb in the van and I turn on the car. the hiss of the ac and the quiet hum of the radio are the only sounds in the car. she opens her mouth and closes it again. "what? what is it?" i sigh because the tension is killing me.
"if the bond is gone then why am I still sad?" she says quietly. I note the fact that this is the most vulnerable I've ever seen her. she's always had a strong front, and always had something smart to say. but now in the quiet that is my van, I feel like I see her, the real her.
"I don't know why." I say honestly, but cringe at the monotone way I say it. like I didn't care to know why she was upset, and right then I knew her walls were going to come back up before they even do. she shrugs and wipes her face once. "can I play music then, I don't like moping around." she sighs, grounding herself again. "I know you don't" I say softly "and yes you can, as long as you don't have shit music taste" I smirk at the end. teasing her is so much easier and more natural then whatever we've been doing the past 15 minutes. "Oh it's amazing, you're gonna wanna add my songs to your playlist when I'm done. " she takes the mood change and runs with it. she even laughs and I don't even try to stop myself from admiring her smile.
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I pull into her house and all the lights are on and there are clanging noises coming from the inside of her home. its damn near 5 am and no one should be up that early on a Sunday morning. we were just having a good time, surprisingly, listening to music with each other. we both like the same kind of music and even though I acted like I hated her singing I didn't mind. but she wasn't singing now, she actually looked really scared.
"my dads home" she whispers and looks at me with wide glossy eyes. worry flutters in my chest at the sight of her being afraid. this guy must be bad news. "he rarely ever comes home" she says in the same quiet tone her eyes widening even further before she turns to me. "I thought Madi said she put a protection spell on me." she runs her hands through her hair and her breathing is picking up. if she keeps this up, she's going to have a panic attack.
" she did, okay, so you have nothing to worry about!" the words sound all wrong coming out of my mouth. I meant for them to come out comforting but instead they sound a bit like I just want her to shut up and get out of my car. why do I always have to sound so mean.
her breathing picks up more and she's crying now. "you don't know what he's like, matt! you've never met the guy. he doesn't want anything to do with me! and when he comes home, he's always drunk" she pauses and closes her eyes gasping for breath. "and he's mean!" she sobs. before I can stop myself I grab her face and guide her gaze away from the house to me. if she hadn't told me this, I would have never known she'd been hurt this way. I couldn't help but wonder how many times she came home to find a nightmare in her house.
"you don't have to be with that guy" I say slowly and nod my head before continuing
"just stay with me" I whisper.
@bbernard-03
@sturnthepot
@hoeformatt
@sturtriple16
@faygo-frog
@sturniol0s
@katie-tibo
@cindylcuwho
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fairestwriting · 7 months
Note
Hello, if you don't mind, I want to request a sceanrio or headcanons (which one you more prefer is fine by me) with Jade insist to take care of his crush after a long day of dishwashing duty in Monstro Lounge despite his crush doubt that he might wanted to get them in his debt and does not realize that he did that because he has a crush on them? Feel free to skip this req if it's makes you uncomfortable though <3 Thank you!
oldie but one that i thought of a bit even when i was on hiatus... scenario format because maybe i want jade to take care of mw after a long workday too. What the hell
word count: 1345
pairing: jade x gn!reader
content warnings: wish fulfillment none:)
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You exhale heavily, your shoulders slumping even without you willing them to, as the very last plate is cleaned to perfection, setting it down with all the others...
It's not that you expected a night of dishwashing to be the easiest thing in the world — but luck really wasn't on your side that day, and it turned out it was the third years' last day of exam week.
Which meant, the Lounge would be crowded. Which meant, you'd have a lot of dishes to wash. Which meant, as you just now discovered, your upper back, forearms, and feet would start to actively try to kill you.
At least it's all just over, you think. You pull off your apron and the rubber gloves that did nothing to keep your hands from going wrinkly from exaggerated humidity, then you turn around, ready to report to Azul that your shift was over—
Then, in your tired haze, you bump into something, someone, and it doesn't even register who it is until a firm grip on your upper arm keeps you from embarrassingly stumbling for a good moment.
"J...Jade? What are you doing here?"
He looks at you. His hand is still gripping your arm, though... it's done really softly, especially for an attempt at keeping someone from tripping.
And he smiles softly, politely at you. Like he always does.
"I could perhaps ask you the same question." He says, a lilt to his voice, releasing your arm as you step back into a balanced stance. "It's rather late, you know? Azul was even looking for you."
"Oh, was he?" You cringe at the way it comes out a little more bitter than you'd intended, but... you're tired, and Jade was... strange, but definitely not a tyrant. "Well, I was about to go look for him and say I'm done with the dishes. There was just..." You glance behind yourself, seeing the piles of plates and glasses, the dish soap bubbles that got everywhere. "There was a lot."
Jade's gaze follow yours, and his smile softens, even more when he looks back at you.
"In that case, why don't you let me inform him instead, and I could... get you something to eat in the meantime? You must be hungry."
Alarm bells ring inside your head. The offer is tempting, of course it's tempting, but this is still Octavinelle, and Jade is still Azul's... henchman, or something. You grimace while you try to get your tired brain to think of a response.
"Um... no, thanks, I'd rather not be indebted to—"
"Ah. You're worried about that?" He asks, and the look on his face, while hardly different from his usual poised smile, has a hint of... something different that you couldn't quite place. "In that case, we could arrange a way for you to... give me something in return?"
"Uh..." Again, the alarm bells continue. If they weren't mental, the noise would probably be intense enough to give you a headache— "I don't... think I have anything you'd..."
"Your company, in exchange for any menu item free of charge. How does that sound?"
What.
You blink, genuinely dumbfounded. Jade still smiles. Always does. You're not sure if it's a joke, a part of you says it's a bad idea, but...
"You want my company in return for the favor." You echo to him, and he nods.
"Yes. I'll tell Azul you're done with your work, and fetch you whatever you wish. Then we can get a sit while you eat. Does that work for you?"
"That..." You really wish you could protest, but at the worst moment possible, your own hunger makes itself known. "...okay."
"Lovely. You can wait at the Lounge. What would you like to have?"
You mumble out your usual order, still a bit confused, and he gives you a nod as you part ways. Out of the kitchen, you don't waste too much time in taking one of the seats with cushy chairs, sighing in relief when you feel your body sinking into them just slightly, supporting those overworked limbs.
The Lounge really was empty. You have a few minutes to stare at it, all by yourself — it really must be late — and even dare to bask in the comfy, yet classy lighting of the environment.
It felt so much different like this. No music, no people to serve. It was... relaxing, surprisingly. Even though it was your workplace, and the source of quite a lot of stress in your life...
"The boss is notified. Here's your food." Jade chimes in with a playful tone after what feels like way too little time, setting a plate of your very favorite Mostro Lounge special in front of you. You can't help the way your eyes widen at it a bit, still not fully grasping the situation.
"And Azul is okay with this?" You grab the fork, but look up at Jade first, watching as he takes a seat in front of you.
"Of course. I wouldn't do that otherwise."
He chuckles, and despite your cautiousness, you can't resist the urge to dig into your food. It tastes even better after all that work.
And for some reason, it makes Jade's smile just a touch brighter when he watches you eat.
"It's important to eat well, you know. I hope you've been getting enough meals lately. Exam weeks are never kind."
"Yeah, I... I mean, I'm doing fine. If I want to keep up with all the work, I have to eat."
You take a larger bite, and he continues to watch you. With one more sprinkle of energy in your system, you start to try to understand what got to him all of a sudden. You look through his features, usually so unreadable and static, and you search for... something. Anything.
A sign this was a strange prank, maybe.
"That's good to hear. In any case, though, I'll discuss with Azul to have better planning for evenings like these... Friday nights and such. I wouldn't like to see you so overworked again."
You stop chewing for a split second when you catch on to his wording. I wouldn't like to see you so overworked again. Maybe you're just too tired, and making this all up, but...
What's different in Jade's face now is that there's a hint of sincere softness. One that doesn't even look all that unfamiliar— that you swear had been there when you had brief chats during work hours, even.
Your face flushes. Is he...?
You lift your gaze away from the food, and meet Jade's eyes. He's still smiling, hands folded politely on the table, though it's small enough that when you set your fork down, you swear you feel your hand brush against his glove.
"Thank you... for this, Jade." You mumble out, unsure of what to say. He gives you a smile like he always does, but in this empty, silent Lounge where you're not even sure if you're seeing things right, it makes your heart flutter.
"Thank you for the company. It really was a busy night." He gets up, taking your plate. Only now, you notice you're done eating. "I'll take care of these, don't worry. Just head back to your dorm and rest up. Unless..."
You blink at him again, now unsure of how your brain could even withstand so much confusion. "U...Unless...?"
"...Unless you'd like me to escort you?" He says, and his eyes narrow slyly, glinting— now, wait a minute...
Floyd and Azul were still supposed to be there, weren't they? They always were during closing time. Which meant...
Of course. Of course Jade would only go about something like this as deliberately as possible.
He chuckles. Your face is hot all over and his smile is wide. Skillfully, he carries the plate in one hand as he makes his way to the kitchen.
"Just wait for me if you do. We can make another deal if you want."
And then, he's out of signt, and you're left with a dizzying feeling.
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tuliptic · 1 year
Text
What Is My Purpose Here On This Land
This is for all, but especially for those with existential crises. We’ve wondered what we are meant to do, do we have a purpose being on this planet, and many more questions continue to feed our brains. 
Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and ask yourself the question: What messages does your weary heart need to hear? Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.
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Pile 1    -     Pile 2
Pile 3    -     Pile 4
Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever that you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. That aside, I do not consent to my work or here to be used by third parties on this platform or other websites.
Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck  (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Flower Petals Oracle Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self made lyrics deck.
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Pile 1: The Rose
A card to represent you: The Chariot
One funny thing when I was shuffling this deck was that this card came out tumbling. It was like.. Upright, reverse, upright again. I’m taking this as a sign. You like taking the wheel. You’ve been through the ups and downs as you journey ahead, sometimes lacking direction, learning self-discipline throughout the process, learning the importance of strength and will, finding balance, and driving to where you are right now. There’s this determination that you’ve gained from past experience, and you’re still driving ahead. A word of advice is to be aware of your own focus level, and to take a rest when you’re tired. The journey of life ahead is long, and it’s always alright to take a break now and then. For some reason, I also feel some of you may be travelling right now, or intend to travel in the future. Make sure to prepare a proper itinerary and have emergency numbers saved! 
1. What is my role here on earth? - The High Priestess
First word I’m picking up is healing. You’re the person who answers to the cries of help, being the Universe’s hands in providing aid to those who pray for it, to be that gentle beauty without losing your thorns. You’re called to be the healing energy, to be the kindness that people need but may or may not deserve. Not to put a burden on you, but you probably tend to be kind and subconsciously heal or watch over those who need your help, even strangers, and even people who do not deserve those kindness. (There’s this nagging behind my head that reminds me of the people in Gotham who did nothing yet yells for help/salvation, instead of fighting and protecting their “loved” ones.)
2. Have I achieved it? - The Fool
You’re only starting on this journey. Or maybe have yet to start on this journey. You probably realised this uhhh ability of yours very recently, or have only decided to really start doing something on it. See, realising this ability/skill doesn’t mean you have to do something about it. You may realise your skill for art but not continue cultivating that skill. It’s the same. You’ve probably stopped all those questions and try to take out that first step to do it. You’re killing your doubt step by step, betting in yourself and trusting in yourself to do something entirely new. (Yes, ITZY’s Bet On Me is playing as I write this.)
3. How to achieve it? - The Sun
There are so many things embodied in this card: brightness, hope, ray of hope, and more to come. What I’m feeling from this is mainly warmth, asking you to just be this Sun, to shine just as you are. It’s gonna sound weird but imagine healing rays? I’m cringing and having a weird face as I type this out. But yeah, just be who you are, to continue doing what you do. Just know that your presence is like a walking energy-purifier, lifting up the spirits even by smiling to strangers or wishing them a good day. You can attempt to try doing something else, for example, being more active in volunteer work in nursing homes and shelters, playing a part in activist activities, or even taking up counselling courses to help people out. These are only some of the many ways that are available. Most importantly is that you do kindness with kindness, not to have any ulterior motives behind them.
4. Why do I need to do it? - Seven of Wands rx
The world is changing, more and more people are experiencing a feeling of defeat and overwhelmingness, including you. All are called to make a change, and this is your part in the pledge to make a change. We have arrived at a time of change, and actions need to be taken. People have been fighting among themselves, you may even have been having conflicting thoughts and contradicting beliefs. Peace has been taken away, and instead of fighting to get back that same peace, it’s time to recreate a new peace that will work for this new world. A new structure is needed, and you’re one of those first few people who are tasked to build things anew again.
5. What can I learn from it? - King of Pentacles rx
What you’ll be learning is not only based on what you’ve experienced, but from what you’ve observed. You saw the fall of those who have been obsessed with earthly riches, those who have been paying attention to the materialistic realm, and have forgotten to nourish their soul and mental energy. The downfall was harsh and painful, reminding you that balance is needed in every aspect. From there, you’re gonna continue spreading kindness, letting the scars of the past be a reminder of what has happened, and how you’re gonna redirect the course of your energy.
6. How am I supposed to transform from it? - Knight of Pentacles rx
Self-discipline will take you to a lot of places, and will also be able to take you to places that you thought you never would’ve reached. This gift of yours, this purpose of your is not to let you be more spiritual, but to be more down to earth. You’re supposed to be the bridge between the spiritual themes with the practical, existing world we’re living in right now.  From this, you’ll also be able to get connected to your roots, your family, your ancestry, even get connected to your race. I hope I do not get into trouble with how I phrase myself here hshshs. But y’know how colonialism has affected a lot of things, like religion and even language. I don’t quite remember where I heard it, but Tagalog or Filipino, languages of the Philippines, have Spanish influence in it. Or how Christianity kinda replaced the other folk religions with how it’s being brought in. So yeah, you’ll need to do the dissection to find out which was the original, which you wanna connect with. You define your own roots, and you take charge of it.
7. What is the self-fulfilment level? - The Tower
Whilst you dream, you clear your mind of all negativity and your spirit will be refreshed. With that, you’ll charge ahead, doing everything you can until you feel that you’ve changed the world. It sounds really idealistic, but if you need to remember the catastrophic energy that The Tower brings. The change is not gonna be small, and you can’t do it alone. You’ll work ahead, without knowing how long it’ll take. You then make friends on the way, working towards the same goal but with different tasks, slowly but steadily paving and painting a new path. Just like the straw that breaks the camel’s back, your tiniest effort shatters the restrictive and unhelpful rules that were oppressing the people.  That’s what you’re meant to be, that’s what you can achieve. But I need to remind you that this self-fulfilment level differs for everyone. One can feel content by doing small things, while some want the satisfaction that comes with doing great things. They are all valid and powerful acts in their own ways, and no one can deny the effort and effect that comes with it.
Overall energy: The Fool, Ace of Pentacles
Overall, you’re called to take actions to start a new chapter of your life. You’re the main character of your own story, you’re the one who decides how you want to paint your journey. However, whatever that you’re intending to do, remember to not do it alone. A solo trip is fun, but a journey? It’s best to have people joining your cause to support each other. Remember that there are other animals in The Fool, cuz one is  a guide and the other is a guard/support. The energy of rebirth and transformation comes heavily in this pile, and sometimes, it can destroy you in the process. Proceed with caution and with faith. We are praying for you as you travel.
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Pile 2: The Mirror
A card to represent you: The Sun
You attempt to be a person to bring warmth to people around you. The Sun shines warm lights, and that’s something you enjoy as well. But sometimes, when anger gets hold of you, you tend to burn people around you, accidentally or on purpose. You don’t really use the reason “I didn’t mean to”, because if you injure people, you totally mean it. It’s probably due to them crossing your boundaries repeatedly, and you didn’t want to hold back any longer. But still, the card wants to remind you of who you wanted to be. Do not let anger cloud the true you. Let out that anger at the right person, and go back to who you are, the warm and accepting you.
1. What is my role here on earth? - Judgement rx
I don’t really wanna use the word here but you’re called to learn the karmic lessons in the past, may it be the current past or your past lives. There are times that you hold on to your values, yet the world continues to challenge you, which may have made you question what is the meaning of you being here, what do you need to do to get out of this cycle of unfairness. Instead of fighting it, it’s time for you to discard the mask of pride that you’ve been wearing, and accept that unfairness is a part of life that you need to go through. Once there's acceptance, you can build a new structure (structure on how you go through problems, or building up new values or habits, or anything else that can help you). Humility is what you need. And stay away from humiliation. These are two very different things. People taking credit over what you do is… Something you need to be aware of. But. If there are people out there who take credit over what you do yet accuse you of copying or shit like that? Fight.
2. Have I achieved it? - Seven of Pentacles
This is something that will take long to achieve it, but you’re still on the way. You probably have noticed this… Thing? That things have been unfair and that it is too tiring to live, and you’re somehow somewhat struggling through life. Sure, there are times that are fun, but you know that fun does not last long and once it’s time, you continue crashing the waves and pressure life gives you.  You feel like you’ve been doing this forever, and things just don’t seem that they are turning better. Have faith that it will. Belief is a skill that comes with birth, you just need to hold on to it, believing that things will resolve in the end. Which it will. The struggles will become lighter eventually, because hard work and effort pays off.
3. How to achieve it? - The Magician rx
There are some other untapped talents in you, and it’s time for you to unlock them. You need to be able to find them and develop them. It’s not something you can easily access to, but it’s something you’ll need to practise and to get good at, and then to use them wisely. This untapped skill of yours may be something spiritually related, with you standing in between humanity and spirituality. You need to be aware to not fall into people’s traps, and to make sure that you do not manipulate others in the process. I feel that this pile may have some talents or skills in manipulation and deception (either you’re aware or not), but you can choose to not do so. Remember, if you choose to do so, there will be more things that you’ll lose. The Magician talks about alchemy, where you use one thing to exchange for another of equal value. 
4. Why do I need to do it? - Nine of Wands
There’s a resilience that you need to learn, encouraging you to pay attention to your rights, believe in yourself and defend your position or property. It is time to gather your experiences and life lessons, to reflect on what life has shown you. There’s this hint of spirituality that you’re also called to evaluate - to see what it has to offer in your life, to see how you can use this to make it another life lesson/asset of yours. You need to remember that the process of learning can be difficult and challenging, but you can also make it fun, make it lighter. Unlike in school, where you learn without passion (for most people), you are now learning new things because you’re interested in it. So yeah, learn through playing and experimenting, celebrate each growth and resilience you’ve unlocked. I hope I’m making sense here.
5. What can I learn from it? - Four of Cups
I doubt that many who pick this pile are happy with meditation, but this is one thing you’ll be learning. There’s a need to reevaluate yourself, and realigning values within you. I’m having some difficulties in forming my words, because it feels like your pile already knows about this, but in some sense, refuse to do this, refuse to acknowledge this. You’ve probably heard a lot of this kinda talk, where you need to do this and that to achieve that enlightenment. You really didn’t like that, and you still don’t like it.  Yet, this is needed. You need to go through a long while of silence, a time of reflection, to make changes and to be reborn again. It’s difficult, you may cry again and again, because you’ve been in darkness for so long, slowly giving up on whatever ways are out there. Know that it can’t be any darker than this, and it’s also a chance for you to recognise light, and to embrace that light.
6. How am I supposed to transform from it? - Five of Cups rx
You have to accept pain has been crucial in your growth, and walk away from it. It’s time for you to move on, and you’ll find yourself to be more… Accepting? Acceptance is a huge theme in your reading, where you acknowledge that this has happened, and you accept it, and then move on with life. As long as you accept something has happened, that weight will be slowly lifted away from your shoulders. You won’t be able to move when you’ve been crushed by all those unhappiness (or even happiness) that you’ve been holding onto. Focus on wholeness, learn how to take things up and put them down, continue on with the journey of letting go.
7. What is the self-fulfilment level? - The Hierophant
The Hierophant is often related to religion, and it being paired with spirituality speaks even more so. I’m not saying that achieving enlightenment (don’t mistake it with the Buddhist term, please) IS fulfilling for you, but it is one step to achieve what you wanted - release. Life’s burdens have been pulling this pile down, and what you want the most is release, release from responsibilities; release from fears; release from expectations; release from this endless cycle that has been trapping you. You’ll need to invite in a new thought to be released from what has been tying you down, and it’s time for you to be reborn again.
Overall energy: The Lovers, Eight of Cups
There are times where you need to make decisions between two choices that were offered to you. Oftentimes, you want to pick neither, but life decides it for you anyways. Either paths will lead you to where you’re meant to go, so why not stand still for now and listen to your life? Looking at it may be distracting, as there are a lot of worries and neon lights around. Make a cup of drink, sit down, put on your earphones and play some soft music. You might be able to hear something.  One thing I have to mention is that there’s a heavy Pluto and karmic energy I’m sensing from here. It’s like… A huge circle, a cycle, where things happen again and again. You’ll need time (and a lot of time) to complete this cycle, only then you can break free from there. Some may feel dejected, but do remember that every step you’re taking right now is bringing you closer to the end. The Mirror is also here for you to reflect, to see who you are, and to see who you are Inside.  Make this promise that you’ll be kind to yourself, appreciate each step that you’re taking and celebrate the small wins.
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Pile 3:  The Key
A card to represent you: The World
This pile is giving me a very comforting and secured energy. Paired with this card, those who picked this pile may have completed a project, or have achieved one of their goals in life, or are close to closing an existing project with success. You may also be one of the fixed signs (Aquarius, Taurus, Leo, Scorpio) or have them in your personal planets.  Another thing I’m picking up is that some of you may be looking out for new projects to start when you haven’t reached the end of the current project. Take a step back, do not rush into things quickly. Sure, an end speaks of a new beginning, but you need time to plan a proper project and to recuperate from the exhaustion of the previous project.
1. What is my role here on earth? - Three of Swords rx
I’m seeing more of a guide here. You have been through difficulties in life, and from those, you’ve gained experiences, insights, knowledge and wisdom. With that, you’re tasked to guide the rest who are going through a hard time this round. It’s difficult because kindness isn’t something everyone is equipped with, and for you, especially, you may find it a lil bitter. This is where you challenge yourself to step outside of your comfort zone, to try something that you’ve never thought of, or even detest. But you gotta do it as the path you step on is the road to growth and illumination.
2. Have I achieved it? - Knight of Wands
You're charging towards it, albeit a lil reckless. You do have the passion in it, and you’re more than willing to be the change, even wishing that the change is something that can change the world. You can’t wait to experience the storm and thunder, wanting to feel the same scale of impact.  However, you need to remember that passion can dissipate quickly, like how it started. There might be transits in your life, maybe Mars is transiting one of your personal planets right now, which gives you that impulse of wanting to achieve something. You are in control of your response, but the actions of other people and events are not. Do not be dejected when people reject you, but continue ahead without that recklessness.
3. How to achieve it? - Ten of Swords
You will be able to achieve it by going through defeats. You’re one who learns through actual defeats, the pain, remembering the falls of life through your body and soul. From there, only then you can compile those you’ve learnt and observed into a book, for your own and other’s references. At this phase, you may feel pulled between one path or another, and pushed to make a decision. It can be quite tense, but don’t avoid it. These tense situations build your strength, getting you ready to fly. Do not bend; do not submit defeat, continue ahead to chase after your ideals. Let that resolution and will to be your light.
4. Why do I need to do it? - Two of Wands rx
There’s a fear in you, not knowing what you are meant to achieve. This could be a personal goal for you to focus throughout your lifetime, building yourself up, giving you an unnamed courage to find your inner power. I feel that you may have subconsciously (or maybe consciously) compared yourself to people around you, wondering where in life you are, what you’re meant to do. To counter that, you need to set a personal goal, to have some sort of inner alignment, and figure out what you want to achieve. Do you want to appear as a confidant people turn to? Are you keen on sharing thoughts and experiences to make people’s lives a lil bit easier? Try taking a notebook and writing your goals down, and see what you need to do, or what you should stop doing to achieve that. It’s time that you activate a certain switch in you to be that fire (either to warm or to destroy. It’s up to you).
5. What can I learn from it? - The Hierophant, Ace of Pentacles
I feel that you may be even able to start something, maybe a support group or a club, especially in a religious context. There’s some form of finances involved in it, so yeah, maybe a support group where you guide others, and others guide the others, and let the leaves of the tree expand. Finances will be involved in terms that there are donations coming in, which you may use to assist those who are financially needy.  You’ll be able to accept this new side of yours, and be more willing to reach out your hands because you could physically see how this chain of kindness continues on, holding on more hope that things can actually change for the better.
6. How am I supposed to transform from it? - Judgement
It is time for you to reevaluate your life, what meanings you want to fix to your life. There may be a calling to change your life or open your heart to new possibilities, to new responsibilities or a new field of work. The horn in this card symbolises that there may be a wake-up call from the world around you, telling you that it’s time to stop being in your head, to see the world for who it is, and how you’re supposed to make changes, or answer to those changes. Change can refer to something tangible and immediate, or the whole way one sees life. In fact, you may have already changed without realising it.
7. What is the self-fulfilment level? - Five of Cups rx
There’s a release from pain and suffering. The pain and suffering does not necessarily mean something physical, but something that’s more on a spiritual level. Y’know how sometimes one can feel… Empty and blank? That. That is actually suffering on a spiritual level, because you have no direction, no guidance, and sometimes that could feel suffocating. Some out there could just go along with life even though they have no idea what to do, and it’s cuz their direction of life is to go along with what the journey has to offer. What you’re doing right now is just standing there and looking blankly to where your eyes are looking, which increases the weight in your chest and legs.  Through this, you’ll be able to find a proper direction and the awakening that comes with it will elevate you. Walking again after you’ve been standing so long will be uncomfortable at first, but take small and steady steps. You’ll find yourself running again soon.
Overall energy: The Star, Four of Swords
This reading talks about hope and rest, and how they come hand in hand. I felt a weight on my chest as I was typing the self-fulfilment part, because of how heavy the desperation and feeling of loss is. Know that The Star is shining a gentle ray of hope, consoling you that things will be better. The Star may not be visible all the time, especially in the daylight. But know that she is always there, and you can hear her whispers in the night, when you think you’re about to fall. Be kind to yourself and share your beauty as well as knowledge with those around you. But remember to take rests as well. You can’t afford to do much when you’re having a burnout. It’s alright to fall, but remember to rest and stand up again. Your passion is your greatest drive, go for it.
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Pile 4: The Word
A card to represent you: The Magician rx
I feel like you’re currently standing in the middle of two different things, two very different and distinct fields (like science vs arts, realism vs spirituality), not knowing where to head to. There’s some sort of pull from both of them and you’re feeling very, very torn.  However, remember that the Magician is someone that has a lot of skills, and has been acting as the bridge between the physical plane and the spiritual realm for a long time. You, also, have the skills to bridge between the various fields/things that are scattered across. As the bridge, you can see the connecting and overlapping points, and you can build out from there. You honour differences and expand.
1. What is my role here on earth? - Two of Swords rx
Your role is to take out the blinds that were covering the people’s eyes, including yours. You are called to stop them from hiding or shying away from the truth, making them see what is the truth, calling them to face reality. For some reason, I feel that you may have not been very liked at home due to this nature. Your parents may think that their reputation or status as parents should not be challenged, but you couldn’t care less about it. What you cared about was that justice and truth be upheld, and you won’t hesitate to rip anyone apart if they tried saying otherwise. This, in turn, has created quite a huge confrontation when you were growing up. But are you stopping there? No. You will continue your role of wake up call, but only once or twice. You’ve understood that there are always people out there who want to run away from the truth, and you’re not gonna waste your effort and time on them.
2. Have I achieved it? - The Chariot rx
You’re currently in a fallback. You took a step back to look at the options available and to reevaluate the situation. You realise that you were having a narrow goal and vision tunnel, which will cost a lot of meaningless sacrifice. You may have thought that it was okay to let your horses run without holding the reins, but now is not the time. You’re now evaluating and weighing the pros and cons, which are the items that you want to invest your time and energy on, finding out where your passion lies. A word of advice: Do not be afraid to try multiple things. Nothing is fixed in stone. Just like you may discover a new favourite dish later, you may also discover a new skill that is useful.
3. How to achieve it? - Page of Cups rx
First of all, you need to kill your doubts and fears. Fear is one main thing that’s stopping you from trying new things in different fields. There are always new things out there waiting for you to try, there are new opportunities that can’t wait to come to you. Being protective of your own energy is important, but you need to get out at times, to talk to people, to learn their ideas and train of thoughts, to see things from their point of view. This way, instead of tearing down the blinds covering their eyes, you’ll be able to verbally convince them to take the blinds down themselves, which is a much gentler way. Be honest and true, even to your fears. Accept them, and they might reward you with something special.
4. Why do I need to do it? - The Fool rx, Knight of Pentacles
I’m seeing some form of heavy responsibility here. You are not tasked to enjoy or to have fun, but to be like a defender, a protector, even a fighter or truth. Unlike The Fool, who goes on new journeys having fun, you are stationed at a place, guarding the gates, making sure those who enter are those who have earned it. This responsibility is not randomly placed on people, but it chooses those who vow to bear witness to the truth. Obligation is a word that’s also relevant here, where you’re also willing to bear this duty. Not sure if you’re doing this because you want the truth to be known or you just wanna spite people by forcing them to look at their wounds. It’s all up to you.
5. What can I learn from it? - Page of Wands
It’s like… A stone egg hatching. You thought that it was a stone, from its rough and hard exterior. But in reality, it’s actually a dragon egg. You learn that miracles happen in various forms, and that one really needs to think of the various possibilities and potentials you hold, even the ones that sound impossible. It’s alright to fail, it’s alright to fall, as long as you continue to climb up and attempt, you’ll be able to see the glory that’s arriving your way. Glory is a huge word but it is what it is. Stop losing focus and get that glory in your hands.
6. How am I supposed to transform from it? - Eight of Pentacles
You can transform into a gem by polishing and honing your skills. If I were to compare and describe, I’d say that you’re a jade as compared to other stones out there. It takes a skilled master to recognize the green under the hard and dusty exterior. Now, you’re that skilled master, and you’re gonna trim and polish the rock to reveal the gentle green in it. It can only be done little by little, and repeating the process until you see that gleam of green. And that’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna polish your skills day by day, night by night. Repetition of the task can sound mundane but that’s needed for you to be able to gain precision. This precision can be used in a lot of places, such as knowing the fine line of breaking the truth harshly or choosing to not say a single thing. Sometimes, people have their pride, and that precision will be able to help you to observe which line to cut, where to stop.
7. What is the self-fulfilment level? - Ten of Swords rx
Through this, I’d say that you’ll be able to let go of the past hurt that you have. There is a lot of anger and pain, especially when you recall how you were treated unfairly. You weren’t in the wrong, but you still get attacked. Now, you’ve learnt how to see things from their side and handle them properly, you’re now able to move on from that anger. It’s difficult, but at least, that chapter of your life is ending. You can close that book, and move on to the second book of your trilogy. Life’s a journey, make the rest of it worthwhile.
Overall energy: The Star, Seven of Cups (Strength hidden behind that keeps wanting to show up)
The Word in this picture is Love. Redirect that love to yourself, allow hope to shine on you, and accept that gleam of hope. Opportunities are coming, but you need to learn how to differentiate them from the illusions or wishful thinkings you’ve made. Fret not, you have the strength, the power to discern them according to your inner code of morale. You have what it takes, so practice courage each day. There’s a new you in the future that’s waiting for you. They seem eager, and prepared to take you onto a new journey, to see the new sceneries that come along with it.
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Thank you for reading!
451 notes · View notes
velvetlilacsdaisies · 6 months
Text
Shit at Feelings iv
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Bodhi Durran x fem!reader
Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.
Word count: 6k 🫢
Warnings: swearing (ofc), drinking, angstttt, y/n lore, lmk if I missed anything, not proofread at the end lmaooo
A/n: the long awaited part 4!! Hope y’all aren’t disappointed, trying not to think so hardly on this part bc I scrapped and rewrote this so many times 😅
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You're unsure of when it started during the night, but as you sat at the booth with Violet, Rihannon, and Nadine; something stirred in your chest. You desperately tried to look interested in the conversation, trying to meet the eyes of Rihannon trying to focus on the way she animatedly told a story. Laugh when the women poked fun at Violet for something cheeky she’d bring up. Adding input to Nadine’s questions despite having to ask her to repeat herself without having your eyes dragging themselves to look at the other side of the bar.
Who was she?
She wore a dressed down pale blue healer uniform, her skin flawless free of relics and tattoos, glossy perfect red hair that cascaded down her back in waves. She radiated bubbliness from what you observed as she laughed at whatever Bodhi said or did a little dance when her friend sunk a billiard into a pocket. She always seemed to go right back to chatting with him. You couldn’t bear watching her cling to him, but you couldn’t drag your eyes away.
You were well aware you had no right to be sitting there, stomach churning with a bitterness of cold ire…but here you were doing just that.
Rihannon clicked her teeth, making you snap your attention back to the group. You didn’t even try to offer a coy look—this was the second time one of them caught you. You had tried the last two hours to hide your irritation, but it just kept beckoning to the surface. Slowly ticking away within you as if you were going to burst at the seams.
“Okay, what is going on between you two?” She laid her palms flat on the table.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You took a sip of your drink, acting as nonchalant as you could.
She gave you an incredulous look. “The fact you shied away from him all first year, then the first night of break whatever that was.” She waved her hand. “The other day during breakfast, when Dain came to grab him for the leadership meeting, and it was clear as day he was practically undressing you with his eyes when we first arrived.” she rattled off.
“It’s like I’m watching a romance novel unfold in real time.” Nadine said dramatically, a hand moving to her forehead feigning fainting.
You cringed, “it’s-it’s definitely not like that.”
“Not like what?” Quinn interrupted walking up to your own group. Bodhi and Imogen still had been at the table.
The mystery girl touching his built bicep. He had discarded his jacket an hour ago, his rebellion mark on display underneath his tight short sleeve t-shirt. “Ohhh,” she followed your gaze to Bodhi. “Immy told me all about this.” She said in delight to your dismay, taking a seat next to Nadine.
You brought your attention over to the curly haired blond girl. “Does everyone know about this ‘something’ except the two people this ‘something’ is about?” You snapped.
Everyone seemed to have an exciting interest in the nonexistent relationship between you and your childhood best friend.
Quinn merely raised her hands defensively, Rihannon and Nadine awkwardly sipping their drinks looking at the table interested in the wood grain.
“We’re all in the same wing, same section, Y/n it’s hard to ignore the hot and cold between the two of you.” Violet had a softened look in her eyes, being the most sympathetic toward you.
You flushed realizing your outburst, not meaning to aim it at your new found friends. The gnawing bitter feeling was just eating at you, and you couldn’t stop it from being all consuming.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, a scowl on your lips, staring into the clear fizzy liquid in your glass. Despite the tension you created, you looked at the bubbly girl across from you. “Quinn, who is that girl?”
She had a hesitant look on her face, her brown eyes swirled with trepidation. “Ariante, a third year healer.” She offered a short response, seeming to know more than she let on.
You only nodded, turning back to the other side of the bar watching the billiards tables. Ariante, the beautiful young woman, was lining up to shoot the shot, and shot Bodhi a wink before shooting. A small snarl left your lip unknowingly at the sight, leaving all the group to cast worried glances your way.
You grimaced at your behavior, not entirely sure why you had visibly been so riled up at the sight. “I’m gonna get some water.” You stood up, and left the group without another word.
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Ariante skimmed her dainty plain manicured hands over Bodhi’s biceps as she giggled over something he told the group he played with. Usually her advances didn’t bother him, last year he had given in to them as a distraction many times when Y/n avoided him like a disease. Tonight though, his chest hammered in annoyance—maybe not just with her in general, but everything tonight seemed to be so overstimulating.
The loud tavern, how he fought a flinch every time the que would knock against a billiard, the musty smell of alcohol and fried food permeating the space, and how fucking unbearably hot he was.
He knew it had nothing due to the summer weather, that the heat that festered deep within him was caused by something wholly different.
Usually he’d use churam to block Cuir out, but the effects of the few drinks he had made it harder to keep that mental shield up and his dragon’s emotions started to take over. Of course Cuir and Cleasaí chose tonight of all nights to fight.
He had spent a year being accustomed to this, but he worried about you.
You still had been clueless to everything, your dragon stubbornly kept you in the dark, which had frustrated both him and Cuir. You didn’t deserve any of that, and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt he felt when he thought about it. He watched how tense you were at the booth, the girl’s giggling at what seemed like your expense; a scowl on your pretty lips at the interaction.
Another wave of heat filled and irritation rippled through him, and he screwed his eyes shut trying to ground himself. He had ripped his jacket off an hour ago, but to no avail aided any relief to his skin. It seemed it only made the pretty third year healer cling to him more. And the only aid that was brought, was to the disdain that rose with the proximity of her.
“Damn it Henrick!” Quinn stomped her foot frustratedly, making him open his eyes again. “I thought I was playing with an amateur?”
Sawyer had a broad grin as he nabbed the gold coins on the corner of the parallel table across from the one him and Imogen played at. “Beginners luck?” He shrugged casually.
The curly haired blond furrowed her eyebrows at the redhead. “Mhm, sure. Beginner’s luck my ass.”
Imogen cackled at her friend. “You’re the one that suggests putting coins down.”
Quinn mimicked Imogen, before a playful glare settled on her features. “Shove it Cardulo, I’m gonna go wallow in pity now if you need me.” She handed the cue to Sawyer before flouncing off to the rest of the group they came with.
Bodhi’s brown eyes not paying any mind to the feisty third year rider as she joined the booth, he instead had been focused on you again. Watching how your tongue darted in between your soft looking lips licking them, the same scowl still lingering on your face.
He had longed to get a feeling of what your lips felt like since he was barely an adult. Doing anything at this point to have a taste of you, knowing he shouldn’t have felt that way. You had always been just barely out of his reach, but he would have risked anything to have that moment as selfish as it sounded.
You were his best friend.
It was more than the idea of blurring the lines of your friendship that stopped him in the past; you were never meant to be anyone else’s, but who was chosen for you. Your parents had made you a lady of the Aretian aristocracy. The intent to secure a cushy life to make sure you would never have to experience war and hardship like they had—even if it wasn’t a love match. You were forced to take the decision they made for you with poise and grace. Exposed to the corrupt society of the aristocracy that lurked behind the violence since a preteen, never supposed to know war and violence like he had. But by the time the peak of the rebellion happened, and Execution Day arrived—it had been too late for the first hand you had been dealt with. Another decision instead handed to you from a choice that hadn’t been yours to ever make.
It was self indulgent thought, but the moment he knew you safely crossed the parapet—there was a hope that ignited in Bodhi’s chest he hadn’t felt in a long while. Despite the blatant act of avoidance on your part, he quietly watched your every move the first year.
Made sure Imogen spent extra time training with you so you’d be ready for your next challenge, telling her what she needed to critique you on from sparring lessons. Insisting Garrick to convince you to eat more than what you usually did so you could bulk muscle to help ease through the gauntlet. Pleading with Xaden to rearrange squads in the flame section so he could keep a better eye on you. Every action in efforts to aid you from the help of your mutual found family was a coercion from him; so he would know you’d have a shot at surviving this hellscape.
For only a measly chance of you to finally acknowledge him.
It had only been a coincidence (or was it? Cleasaí was known to be petty) you had bonded with Cuir’s other half. The mated dragons hadn’t talked since the end of his first year. The first half of being bonded to the notorious green filled with tumultuous arguments that he didn’t know what started from. They had only been recently mated in the last decade from what Cuir told him.
Bodhi swore he did more supply runs for churam than weapons by the end of the year before they went no contact, and just coexisted in the Vale with one another.
He would have preferred that over feeling the wavering aggression through the bond at this very moment.
“Handsome boy,” Ariante cooed, snapping her fingers to get his attention from across the table. Realizing he had zoned out again staring at you, Ridoc clapped him on the back.
“Yeah handsome boy...” he purred mockingly. Bodhi shrugged his hand off quite hastily. He was not in the mood for the second year’s comedic relief…and the overly inebriated physical touch of the counterpart.
Imogen sensed his discomfort by how tense he had looked, his posture usually more lax, or a boyish grin that had been replaced with a grimace. “Gamlyn, go get us some water.” She barked, face set to a hard grimace.
Ridoc with wide eyes in the fear of the short woman, saluted the group before walking off to the bar.
Bodhi reminded himself to thank her later once he was in a better mood. Instead he twisted his face into something that barely showed interest, not like it mattered, the healer was two shits to the wind at this point. Just caring his eyes were on her. Smiling brightly once he turned back to her, even if it was a stoic look he had on.
“I need you to watch as you lose this round.” She giggled, grabbing the cue from her friend’s hand.
The tawny skinned man watched disinterestedly as she made a show of setting her shot up. She swayed her hips to the table, making sure to press her chest down into the polished wood edges so her low cut tank top showed her cleavage as she lined up her shot. She made eye contact with him, offering a seductive wink, before clumsily shooting and completely missing the pocket. If he wasn’t so aggravated, he could have laughed at the scene.
It was Imogen’s turn now, and he subconsciously let his attention wander back to the booth again, noting you were now absent from the table.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but his heart skipped a beat in panic. He scanned the tavern looking for a glimpse of where you could have gone. He could spot you out of a crowd anywhere—from the way you wore your hair to the way you carried yourself.
His brown eyes searched the makeshift dance floor in between tables, the line for the bathroom, the exits of the tavern. The sense of relief when he finally found you should have eased his heart, instead it pounded louder and louder as his vision tunneled. Bodhi’s stomach churned with a burning green feeling, watching you sit at an empty side of the bar with Ridoc, smiling at him as the pair of you talked.
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“So yeah, then Imogen told me to grab some water for them, and now I’m here doing that.” Ridoc rambled on about his night. Unbeknownst to him, you had spent the majority of the night meticulously eyeing the group from the booth. But you nodded along, idling swirling your finger along the lip of your cup, letting his word vomit become a white noise in your brain. “Imogen has a scary way of demanding things.”
A smirk had crept onto your face, replacing the frown you wore. Ridoc was always honest, but it was amusing to hear him drunkenly bare his soul at the bar over the silliest details. It had almost been enough to forget the prying animosity that filled your veins.
“Who are you telling? I have known her my whole life.” You reminded him rather distractedly.
Despite talking to him, your attention was still flicking towards the quieter side of the tavern—still invested in the man you’ve been stubbornly hiding your feelings from poorly and the pretty girl that clung to him. The game of billiards was dying down, only her friend and Imogen still playing one another.
Bodhi sat backwards in a chair off to the side, his chest pressed against the back, arms casually draped across the wooden top rail, and head hung low as he sipped from the bottle of ale he had been nursing. Ariante perched in a chair beside him, leaning over into his ear to talk. Her lips mere centimeters from him had your heart thumping so hard that you could hear it in your ears.
“Yeah, but you’re not like her or them in fact.” He shrugged.
That made you turn back to Ridoc, who didn’t realize you were only half heartedly invested in the conversation. Or if he did, he didn’t make it known.
“Like they’re all scary broody motherfuckers, and you're just you. Intimidating sure, but not all broody and aggressive.”
You let out a dry chuckle, “language please, they are my friends.”
He raised his full hands defensively, ignoring the fact he sloshed water all over him. “Sorry. You know what I mean though.”
You leaned your head to the side, a quizzical expression on your features. “Elaborate Gamlyn.”
You might have been aware of what he meant, just for the sake of your entertainment you didn’t mind hearing the inebriated man’s ramble of what he thought. It was the only thing that was keeping the pent up emotions beneath the surface.
“Well, you’re kind of lady-like?” He tested the word then nodding. “Yeah, lady like. Not that they don’t have manners—they have better manners than me, but you’re like a refined woman.” His eyes got big and arms were flailing as he animatedly spoke, water sloshing on him.
“Would you be surprised if I said I had been a lady?” You interrupted his spiel.
“No shit, like tea and biscuits, go for a promenade around the garden kind of lady?” He slurred in disbelief with an attempt of an accent.
The way he had said it made it hard to stifle your laugh. “Dowry to my name and all.” You mocked using a posh accent as well.
He made a strangled noise, as he puffed his cheeks out to prevent laughing. “Shit that was the worst accent I’ve ever heard.”
You tilted your back, laughing loudly as he snorted, unable to contain himself. “Thanks for your honesty, yours was just as awful.” You tried to compose yourself.
“I’m not the one that comes from the Aretian aristocracy though.” He said through a fit of giggles. You scoffed, shoving him slightly, giggling more when you had to grab his arm to keep him from stumbling over.
Once the laughter died down, Ridoc had started to talk your ear off again, but of course your focus went elsewhere. Your breath caught in your throat, the amusement on your face slipping.
Bodhi was shamelessly staring at you when you looked over this time. His eyes dark, and stone faced watching the side you resided on. He tilted his head back, draining the remainder of his drink. You couldn’t help to watch the expanse of his throat as he drank the rest of his drink, watching how his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he did so.
You gulped quietly, suddenly imagining how it would be to nip at the column of his thick neck. If he would squirm under your touch or make any soft noises if you kissed up his jaw…you were just torturing yourself at this point.
He the. swung his leg over his seat, muttering something to the pretty redhead, not waiting for a response as he made his way towards you.
Shit.
You panicked drifting back to the drunk man in front of you.
“So did you have—like—a betrothed before this?” Ridoc asked, rubbing the back of his neck, still oblivious you hadn’t been listening. “Is that why we’ve never seen you hook up with someone?!” He gasped as if he solved the biggest mystery, connecting non existent dots.
You could throttle him, trying not to watch the towering figure approach you.
“No, no, no!” You covered your face in your hands, cheeks flushing. “It never got that far, well there were a few arrangements that never went through.”
“Damn, your parents were slacking.” He scoffed jokingly.
“Ridoc,” you glared at him. Any amusement or relief from Ridoc now gone, hitting a nerve within you. The thought of your late parents always causing an ache in your chest and a knot in your stomach.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” Bodhi finished for you, coming up right behind him. He jumped, obviously startled by the new presence, and that it was Bodhi nonetheless. But he quickly recovered, turning to the taller man.
“You always jump right in at the most convenient times, handsome boy?” He questioned in a teasing tone. Handsome boy?
Bodhi glowered, stepping closer to your squad mate. “Call me that again—”
“Bo!” A high pitched shrill voice cut him off. It resembled nails on a chalkboard causing you to wince. Ariante appeared from behind Bodhi, a bright bubbly smile as she stumbled around him, grabbing his arm for support. “You didn’t wait for me.” She pouted playfully.
You had to fight the noise of disgust that wanted to escape your lips, but your facial expression gladly showed what you couldn’t verbally. The rational side of you knew you shouldn’t be reacting this way to a girl you’ve never met. You were past the point of rational though.
She then acknowledged you, her eyes a bright teal that sparkled sticking out her manicured hand. “I’m Ariante.”
You subtly glanced at your hands that were unkempt, nails nearly to the nubs with hangnails.
Gods, she really was everything you weren’t even down to the fingers.
You politely stuck your hand out, limply clasping hers. You hoped she wouldn’t feel your calloused fingers or notice how unladylike your hands were compared to hers as you introduced yourself.
“You know Bo?” She mused. Her hold still on him, despite her being perfectly stable. And the way his nickname came out of her mouth, you think you could regurgitate everything you’ve consumed today.
You offered a strained smile. “We grew up together actually.”
“How sweet!” She practically squealed. “I think it’s great how close knit all of you are!”
The tone deaf statement snipped the final straw of your patience and self control. No, you couldn’t let the feelings lay idly underneath any longer.
“I would say we all are,” you nodded. “I guess that’s what happens when all your parents are murdered in front of you.” You said it as if it was the most casual thing to leave your lips. The smile she wore faltered, and you could see Ridoc shove his hands in his pockets, whistling.
“Y/n…” Bodhi warned.
It could be treason speaking so freely of this, you hadn’t cared at the moment.
“What?” You said innocently, brushing off the warning look you know so well. She had started to sputter an apology, but you cut her off. “But how does such a sweet thing like you know Bodhi?” You asked, a smile growing sinisterly.
In your peripheral vision, you see Bodhi’s face pale.
“We’re acquainted.” He quickly answered, getting out of her grip as he reached over and grabbed the water out of Ridoc hands that were nearly empty from him constantly spilling. He gulped the water like a fish needing water, clearly uncomfortable.
“Very acquainted.” She fluttered her lashes towards him, tone suggestive. Brushing off your awkward interaction.
You made a noise of understanding. Everything you thought was confirmed by two words. Your thoughts lingering and spiraling. The idea of Bodhi intertwined with someone else was nauseating…even infuriating. Everything had drowned out by your heartbeat in your ears, Ridocs words were now inaudible, but assuming he was making a joke. Ariante shrilled giggles didn’t even affect you.
Why were you so mad? You had no right, you’ve been so awful to him the last couple of years—there was never a chance for you. Every interaction you two have had was just rekindling your friendship the past week not meaning anything more. Every poke and prod from your group of friends was something they misinterpreted between the two of you. You knew you shouldn’t have thought too hard on their words and jests, but deep down you only felt crushed of the hope there could have been.
Crack. You looked down at your glass that had been in your hand, the glass in between your knuckles nearly crushed.
The group flitted to you and the cup, even some of the surrounding patrons looked towards you warily.
“Are you alright?” Bodhi was the first to speak up.
“Just absolutely peachy.” You murmured, sliding the object towards the other side of the bar.
“Wow, all you riders are so strong.” Ariante laughed nervously. If this could have been any worse, you weren’t sure if you wanted to punch something or cry now.
“Excuse me,” fighting the lump in your throat. Standing up quickly walking towards the nearest exit without a word.
You walked outside, not quite being able to comprehend what just happened in the matter of seconds. Clenching and unclenching your fists, your chest heaving as everything felt as if it was closing in, pacing on the cobblestone outside the tavern. The smell of incoming rain permeating the humid air that blanketed over the quaint town. Usually a smell that eased your mind, was an overbearing semblance to the internal storm inside you.
“Y/n!” Bodhi called out your name, walking out the door you walked out of moments prior. The bass in his voice stoked the fire that formed in the pit of your stomach, ready to burn you from the inside out. Turning on your heel you faced the 6’3 man, brows already furrowed in glaring daggers towards him, chest still heaving erratically unable to control your breaths.
“You need to breathe.” He didn’t let your behavior deter him. His tone smooth and even, several feet away, not meeting your gaze like if he did he would combust into flames from your glare.
You scoffed, “shouldn’t you be inside with Ariante?” Her name dripped off your tongue with venom.
He opened and closed his full lips, setting his hands on his hips; absolutely dumbfounded. “Y/n…” he said through staggered breath. “I came here with you tonight.” He took a few steps towards you cautiously. “I came up to talk to you at the bar, trying to leave her with her friend.” His focus seemed to be on the wall behind you, and not your own eyes as he still walked towards you. “I followed you out here, leaving her in there.” His words slow, as he stepped right in front of you. “Does it look like I give a fuck about her?” He didn’t let you answer.
“Has everything this past year made it look like I give fuck about anyone else, but you?”
Despite the tug in your heart you felt at his words, pulling you out of your blind rage and jealousy for a split second—it was frustrating how he refused to look you in the eyes.
“You were letting her hang all over you tonight, how can I believe that?!” You held your chest with one arm, the other outstretched to the door.
He gave an aggravated shout, lunging and grabbing your arms. You stiffened at his touch, his hands were just as hot as you felt. He seemed to notice as well, flinching at the realization, but his hold stayed secure on you. He leaned down, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.
“If you watched my every move, you would have noticed I wasn’t interested in her. I was only watching you the whole night.” That Gods forsaken deadly calm tone sent a shiver down your spine despite the heat you felt. “Now lift your arms up.” He ordered, the sentence barely above a whisper.
His usual honeyed brown eyes finally locked with yours, dangerously darkened. A silent gasp leaving your mouth agape, unable to pull away from his dark orbs submitting to his quiet demand, your arms rising up slowly.
His rough calloused skin brushing your arms ignited a solely different fire within you as he slid the sweater off your frame. “Fuck, you’re burning up.” He muttered, throwing the sweater on the cobblestone leaving you in the corseted tank top you had on underneath. Lightning flashed in the skyline, thunder following a moment later, and rain started to pour from the clouds moments later. The droplets are warm from the summertime, but still cooler than both your skin, creating a steam that ghosts around the both of you.
“So are you,” you said breathlessly. “Do you have any idea why?” You two were so close your chests brushed together, every time one of you breathed. You anticipated what he would say next, but Bodhi kept quiet, tugging on his lip, seeming to be fighting a battle with himself. He turned away from you, rubbing a hand over his face, looking up at the rain stricken sky.
“You do know don’t you?” You rasped.
“I just want to preface I wanted to tell you—”
‘Don’t. You. Dare. Tawny. One.’ Cleasaí dangerously seethed through your head.
It had been silent on the other side of the bond all night, you tugged the invisible string to her countless times, but no answer. Now she wanted her presence known? Known to someone that couldn’t hear her nonetheless.
‘She deserves to know what you’ve been hiding.’ Bodhi glowered. You were still watching him, and he hadn’t opened his mouth…and he heard your dragon?
A new deep sophisticated tone entered your mind, ‘Cleasaí the inevitable is going to happen—‘ Cuir?
‘That I’ll find out?’ You stood in that mental art studio you were taught to use as your source for grounding. The door wide open letting in the thoughts and voices that freely flew through your mental guards. That one invisible string that led to the door seemed to have an added two now.
“Shit,” Bodhi hissed.
“How long?” You gritted your teeth, focusing on the man in front of you. He stayed quiet. “How long did you know?” You repeated louder.
He looked at the ground, “since my threshing.”
You tensed, how come he knew, but you had been clueless this whole time?
‘It’s not ideal to have one rider running from the other while their supposed mated dragons aren’t even on speaking terms.’ Cuir explained.
You fought the tears that lined your eyes, ‘he gets to know, while I’m left in the dark?!’
‘That was for Cleasaí to tell you, my rider had no choice to listen to us dragonkind.’ Cuir explained with a steeliness.
‘And I told her I would tell her in due time.’ Cleasaí chuffed in the corners of your mind.
It felt crowded in your brain, two additional voices, on top of your grappling emotions. You inhaled deeply, blinking tears away furiously.
“Y/n,” Bodhi came towards you. “I wanted to tell you.”
“When was I going to be told?” You snapped. “When you graduate?!” A couple tears now silently slip down your cheeks.
You didn’t know where to point the frustration at. Cleasaí should have told you it was her responsibility, but if Bodhi wanted to talk to you so badly that would have been the topic to start with.
“Our luck would be they would stick you in Samara like Xaden!” You shouted.
“When was I supposed to tell you? When you were running the other direction?! Or would you have preferred a note during Battle Brief only for you to go into a volatile meltdown?” He argued.
You laughed harshly, “I would have not—”
“Oh yes you would have.” Bodhi rolled his eyes. “That’s why Xaden warned me not to.”
Your eyes widened, “Xaden knew?”
‘Why wouldn’t the Wingleader know?’ Cleasaí snorted humorlessly.
‘I don’t want to hear it from you.’ You growled shutting the mental shield up from her and hopefully Cuir. You didn’t know how this all worked.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He’s known since before you even crossed the parapet.”
“Does anyone else know?” You crossed your arms.
“Assumedly Violet, but no one else.”
Your eyes narrowed, she seemed to know everything didn’t she?
You grew quiet, mulling over everything as the rain was the only sound that filled the streets. You felt betrayed, not only by the creature that put their faith into you and vice versa, but by the man you had grown to love. Was that why you had felt like your irritation was an out of body experience earlier?
“Why do you think I have a churam dependency?” Bodhi bit the corner of his thumb, looking at you.
“Can you get out of my mind?” You frowned, picking the soggy sweater up off the cobblestone. You sniffled, wiping your face, before proceeding to walk towards Basgiath, wanting to get out of the vicinity of him. To think you could have died without even knowing… what would have happened to the dragons—yet worse—him? You didn’t even want to ponder over the details that entailed that yet.
“Trust me I’m not trying, but your thoughts are so fucking loud.” He muttered, following you.
“Then can you not follow me?” You turned, walking backwards wiping wet hair out of your face. The sting in your eyes is almost blinding from fighting the glaze of tears.
“It’s not safe to walk by yourself this time at night.” He said as if it was obvious.
“I’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure as you slipped the dagger out of your top, you tucked between your breasts when getting ready.
“You’ve been drinking, Y/n. That’s not going to do shit.” He tried to catch up to you, but you were a step ahead, even walking backwards.
“I feel stone cold sober at this moment.” You half lied, quickly turning back around, putting the dagger back where you kept it. You didn’t want him to see how your lip trembled, and you were ready to break. That was the last thing you needed was to have a ‘volatile meltdown’ in front of him. Though that’s what this whole night felt like, a tantrum of a fever dream.
You two came to a fork in the path that led to Basgiath from Chantara. You may have forgotten which path you took earlier in the night. So you hoped as you veered left, you would be going the right way, anything to just get away.
But his hand caught your arm, pulling you around to face him.
“I just got you back, I’m not letting you just be barely out of my reach again.” He seethed, his grip firm, but gentle. His touch was still blistering against your own skin.
“I’m not doing it, Y/n. I’ve already spent years running for you when you just kept running backwards for whatever reason!”
The tears had silently begun to fall again down your cheeks, this time unable to stop. “Do you want the reason, Bodhi?” You could feel yourself start to shake as the words left your mouth. “Because I love you!” You finally admitted, the confession a hushed whisper.
You watched with tears flowing freely as he staggered back a couple steps at what you said. He remained quiet as you continued. “I was never meant to love someone freely. And everyone I loved left—”
Your declaration is cut off by his lips smashing to yours. A primal fiery heat as your lips connected, his hands cupping your jaw, your lips melted with his realizing he was kissing you. The taste of the saltiness from your tears mixed with the essence of alcohol on both your lips was dizzying.
This was everything you could have imagined and more since you were a young woman. Everything you wanted the past five years. You felt his thumbs brush underneath your chin as you relished the feeling as you continued to kiss him with a fervor you never experienced. Your hands sliding up his chest around the back of his neck, gripping on his wet dark curls you’ve always admired. A soft sigh left his lips, and it was a noise you could listen to forever, but of course your thoughts spiraled.
A much more important secret was withheld from you, not only by him, but Cleasaí. A petty love confession that you withheld as a way to protect yourself and what you thought would protect him, when the secret of bonded dragons affected four beings outweighed it all. Whether it was his choice or not.
You pulled away abruptly. “I-I can’t.” You said, feeling your own heart break.
“What do you mean you can’t?” He sputtered, confused.
“Me professing my love doesn’t change any of the circumstances.” You shook your head, letting go of him reluctantly. “If anything it only adds to the risk of this whole situation.”
You needed to think about everything thoroughly, and away from him. If not, you might not think straight. You had to go.
“Y/n,” Bodhi pleaded desperately. He watched you turn and make your way back to the war college. You ignored him, even when your bones itched to turn and run back into his arms. “Do my feelings mean nothing to you?!” He shouted, standing where you left him.
Your steps faltered, and that break you felt in your chest worsened. You turned, with a strained smile on your face through your tears.
“They do, more than you could ever realize.”
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Y/n is definitely Violet coded I’m sorry 😅 and the y/n lore will thicken in part 5 hehe
Thank you sm for the comments and support, it means a lot to have people that actually enjoy what I put out and try to have patience for my posting inconsistency!! I love talking with you all about it and hearing your conspiracies through out the whole series. I think there will be 2-3 more part before I finish and move on to my next ventures, but as always like, reblogs, and comments are appreciated 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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