#i swear i meant no harm so if i did just let me know
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appocalipse · 4 months ago
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the same thing ・❥・b. barnes
summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
"You should be resting."
You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."
A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."
He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.
"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.
He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.
You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."
You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."
Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.
Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?
Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I'm hungry?"
"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"
Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.
"Hm?"
Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."
"I'll live."
"It was stupid."
"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"
Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.
"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.
"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."
"Fine? You were shot."
"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.
It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.
Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.
You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.
"How bad is it?"
"Huh?" you say in a deliberately casual tone. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."
There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.
Or maybe just not to Bucky.
"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"
"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.
"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."
"You are a terrible liar."
"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."
Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"
"They didn't."
"But what if they had?"
"Then I would have died!"
Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."
You open your mouth, then close it.
"You think I want that?" he asks softly.
"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."
"Just what?"
"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."
A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.
"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."
"It would never be better if you were hurt."
"Bucky—"
"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."
You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"
"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."
The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"
He just looks at you for a long moment.
Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.
"You kill me."
Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"
"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."
Oh.
"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"
"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.
You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.
"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."
You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.
"But I do."
"Do...what?" you whisper.
"Want you."
It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."
His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."
Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.
You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."
"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."
You really want to kiss him right now.
It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.
"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."
"How so?"
"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"
"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"
Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"
Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.
You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"
"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."
His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.
You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.
His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.
"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"
Bucky just smiles against your skin.
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starlightsalvatore · 5 months ago
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni
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You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.
You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 
“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.
“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 
“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.
“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.
“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.
“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.
“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.
But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.
He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.
“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 
“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.
“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 
“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.
You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.
“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 
Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 
Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 
And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 
You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 
His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.
His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 
You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.
“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 
Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.
He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.
“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 
When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.
Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 
You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.
His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.
“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 
“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.
“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.
“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.
“A trip?” 
You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 
“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 
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DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or
"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.
~~~~~
 “You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”
Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.
There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.
“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”
“I live somewhere ne...here.”
Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.
However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.
“I mean, what are you doing outside?”
Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.
The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.
“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”
“To do what?”
“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”
“You're new to this, aren't you?”
“Is it that noticeable?”
“Pretty noticeable, yes.”
The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.
That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.
And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.
Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.
“Stop it. What do you want?”
“I study. You seem experienced. “
“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”
“Really?”
Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.
“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”
“Okay.”
Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.
“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”
“Maybe. Is this a deal?”
“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “
Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.
“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”
Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.
He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.
They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.
A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.
“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”
“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.
Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.
Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.
It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.
“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”
“Jason.”
Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.
“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”
“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”
“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”
Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?
“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.
“Friends?”
“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.
“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."
“Good. I'll remember.”
The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”
“That's right, buddy.”
“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”
“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “
“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”
Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold.  So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.
On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and  just wants to listen.
Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.
When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.
A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts.  After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone  in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.
Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and  humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.
No.
It helped.
And then he died.
And things are getting worse by the day, hah.
~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~
Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.
Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.
“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”
A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.
“Man, is it you?”
Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.
“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”
“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”
John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?
“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”
The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.
“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.
“No.”
“Yes.”  Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”
Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.
Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.
“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”
“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”
“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”
Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?
“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”
The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.
“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”
“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”
“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.
"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."
“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.
“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”
“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”
“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.
"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"
The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.
Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…
“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”
“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.
“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?
"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."
“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”
Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.
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Come with me now to see my world
Where there's beauty beyond your dreams
Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins
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rizsu · 1 year ago
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"suguru, shoko... it's been nice knowing you guys. i always loved you both. please, tell y/n i loved her too, yeah?"
it's a tense moment. after satoru received your social medias, he did some snooping around and found the harsh truth — or so he calls it. comparing himself to what he found did nothing but install a depressing, hallow sadness into his system.
"satoru, get the fuck down from that chair," shoko's having none of it. the moment she glimpsed group-chat's notification she practically teleported to satoru's. her heart dropped, palms got sweaty, throat dry at the thought of satoru ending his life. when she arrived, suguru was already there, weeping for his dear friend's life.
it must've been serious, right? it wasn't.
what came into her vision was a grown, silver-headed man standing on his desk chair. around his neck held one of his ties. now, this is where it got unserious. everything seemed true until shoko's eyes traveled to satoru's neck. his tie was wrapped around it with his very own hand holding the longer piece of the tie.
in short, he's fucking dramatic. suguru doesn't fall far, too. it must be hard on shoko for being the only one with a decent brain... kind of.
"shoko, how can you be so... so mean?! he's dying over there! your own friend!" suguru wipes his tears, furious at his other friend's own indifference to such a sight.
"don't," she begins, walking to satoru's position to kick him off the chair. "don't piss me off."
satoru's now on the floor; laying on his back, body straight, arms clasped on top his stomach. this must signal his final moments. it's peaceful in his mind.
"satoru, i swear to god. get the fuck off that floor." she nudges his body with the front of her shoes, eyes twitching at the foolishness.
it takes a mere minute before satoru's tired of ignoring the obnoxious foot harming his body. so he sits up, hanging his head low.
"i just can't, y'know? it hurts," his voice cracks, radiating sadness throughout the room. his words receive two varying responses.
from suguru: "it's okay, satoru. there are many other fishes in the sea."
from shoko: "this is why you mind your business sometimes."
at shoko's response, he sighs loudly, "it won't kill you to be nice, shoko ieiri."
she sits on his bed, placing a pillow on her lap, fixing her posture, and re-positioning her imaginary glasses. "well then, satoru. tell me what you felt, what you saw, and what you think. you can let it all out to doctor shoko."
suguru stifles a laugh, eyes switching between shoko's new persona and satoru's defeated expression.
"okay, doctor shoko. i felt horrible — no, nauseous. i went through her followings and saw that she follows other men. she knows other men. i'm sick to my stomach," his rant begins. it all started when he decided to go through your profile. this meant snooping through followers, followings, tagged photos, and even comments. you both are in — what the youngsters call it — a talking stage.
there are no labels within this relationship, nor are there any confirmed feelings but this? this betrayal? what do you mean he's not the first man on your profile? this is devilish. all went well until he saw one specific comment that said: "baby you're so sexy ily," to which you replied: "i love you more."
the fiend ( as he calls them ) had the profile photo of a man. when he did the internal math, the unbearable truth was found. he is not the only one you're talking to. he feels hurt.
suguru, too, shares his friend's pain. shoko, however, doesn't. why? it's because the commenter was in fact not a man. had satoru did deeper research, he'd have known that the profile photo is the famous singer the weeknd, and the profile belongs to one of your girls who's a diehard fan of him. well, who's shoko to tell the truth? she'll wait for satoru to come to a realization.
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anyarose011 · 3 months ago
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"Crawling Back to You" {Aemond x Reader}
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Summary: It started with a night out in King's Landing, then a fake name, and then a disagreement. Some time after cooling off, and after a job gone wrong, you and the one-eyed prince come to...an understanding in the rain.
Part 2 of 3 (Masterlist)
Warning(s): Oral sex (f and m receiving), nudity, groping, talk of death, swearing, canon-typical injury, sexual harassment (not done by Aemond), and mention of past child SA
Heyyyyyy pookies. So I just started my senior year and it's been hectic. BUT I hope this long ass chapter (it took me forever) makes up for it! I'm also not sure how accurately I'm writing Aemond. I mean, I know HBO is making him into the edgiest edge lord, but I'm taking creative liberties i guess. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 8.5k
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 “It’s a pleasure to finally put a name to your face. One that fits its beauty.” He smiled.
You lowered your gaze, fighting the smile on your lips. It was a stupid compliment, one that you had heard several variations of the rare times men would flirt with you those days. But…it felt different from him.
Still, you merely scoffed, setting the jug on your hip. “Do you want to lead the way, or should I?”
“Go ahead; considering you believe I’ll harm you somehow.”
“See?” You decided to tease instead of defy as you began to walk up the cobbled hill. “You are funny.”
Aemond scoffed, following you. “Did I ever deny it?”
“How you reacted when I first said it never gave me a clear answer.”
“Shouldn’t you change?”
You looked back at him. “What?”
Unashamedly, his eye trailed over your body and yours soon followed. Your nipples were perking through the thin material of the dress.
“Seven Hells.” You cursed, bringing the jug in front of yours.
Aemond came to your side, a hand on your back and leading you up the hill. “You don’t wear a corset?”
“Not with this. I’m meant to lure lustful men, remember?”
“Perhaps you can tell me where you tailor so we can get more appropriate clothing?”
Hell no.
“Or,” you suggested. “I could teach you how to properly steal something?”
“You need to be able to not draw attention to yourself to do that.”
“I’ve done it before.”
“I have no doubt, but the clothing off a man’s back?”
You paused for a moment before replying. “Yes, actually; I even managed all of one’s undergarments.”
Aemond shook his head, pulling his hood farther up to hide his smile. “I mean more so with that dress.”
“It might surprise you, but that is how I robbed him blind.”
“I mean in the sense that-.”
“-I understand.” You shut him up, but not aggressively. The two of you passed by more and more people through the many alleys of King’s Landing. When you got to the main roads, you would’ve lost Aemond in the crowd if it weren’t for the fact his hand had traveled from your back to your arm.
Maybe it was because he was paying you, or maybe it was because you didn’t know how touch starved you had been until it felt like his hand was simultaneously burning and soothing you; but you welcomed his touch.
As you continued to brave through the busyness of the city, you managed to spot a hobbling man wearing a long cloak with a drink in his hand. You smirked at your companion.
“Are you watching?”
He nodded, and how he looked you up and down briefly didn’t escape you. “I’m watching.”
You handed him the jug of water and approached the slightly incapacitated man. You pitched your voice up when you asked. “Ser?”
The man glanced up at you through hooded eyes, and he grunted in response.
“Are you alright?” You feigned concern, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to hold him up.
“Aye.” He sighed. “Much better now that you’re here.”
You giggled, leading him. “You’re too kind.”
“If it’s possible, could that kindness be repaid?”
“Let me at least have your name first,” you turned him down a spacious alleyway where there were less people. “Then I will know what to scream.”
“Gaius. You may-oi!”
You snatched the cloak right off his shoulders and took off in a mad dash down the rest of the alley. Turning your head over your shoulder for merely a second, you were graced to watch as the drunk man stumbled over his own footing before two hands in front of you grabbed your arms. Once you were pulled around the corner, you raised your hands to strike your assailant; to which he caught both of them.
“Is it truly that easy to rob Smallfolk?” Aemond asked, not letting go of your wrists.
Snickering, you pulled away from him. “I thought you said you were watching me?”
“I was.”
“Clearly not.” You slipped the cloak over your body, tying it. “You were lurking in the shadows.”
“I still saw you.” He retorted.
Shaking your head, you bent down and picked up your jug of water on the ground. Then, you stuck your hands into the pockets of the cloak. Your face lit up, and your retracted your hand, holding four pennies in your palm.
“Come with me.” Was all you said before walking past him and continuing down the street.
Aemond was by your side once more. “And where exactly are you taking me to?”
“Are you fond of sweets?”
“I enjoy them, but rarely indulge.”
“Then I will be more of a temptress tonight without having to show any of my skin.” You said excitedly.
All the prince did was smile; somehow trusting your ‘madness’. It was a short walk from where you were to a small stand in one of the several market corners of King’s Landing. Despite the long line, you pushed to the front, ignoring all of the comments and curses from the people.
“Evening, Marija.” You greeted the older woman. “Oh my, has someone bewitched you? You look younger!”
“What do you want?” She sighed your name tiredly, but a pleasant smile was on her features.
Sliding the four pennies onto the counter, you said. “Two dishes of Northern Snow.”
“Do you have two other pennies?”
“This was all I was paid.” You sighed. “You know how short everyone is on coin.”
“Precisely why I need every bit of what is owed to me.”
Shaking your head, you lowered your voice. “Do you see the man lingering behind me? The one with one eye.”
She glanced over your shoulder for just a moment, long enough for it to look like an accident and not a stare. “Yes?”
“He’s a rich lord from Essos,” You began the lie with a truth. “and he has fallen in love with me.”
“You have always told marvelous tales, but even for you-.”
“-Marija…I have a good feeling about him.” You spoke with more insistence. “You know that doesn’t happen very often.”
The older woman looked at you for a little longer, as if to try and pick apart your deceit. Then, when she could find no trace of it, she sighed heavily. Still, she brought out two small vanilla cakes and laid them on the counter, then brought out the bowl of puffy cream.
“You better invite me to this extravagant wedding of yours.” She frosted the cakes with the cream, creating a fluffy topping that looked as if it was true snow itself. Marija then drizzled melted chocolate over both cakes before handing them to you. “Considering this handsome stranger is wealthy.”
“He is strange.” You chuckled. “A bit arrogant too, but I shall live.”
“All men are arrogant.”
“You have not met this one. Thank you, Marija.”
“Sure, sure,” she scoffed. “Give me your water as well; I’m parched.”
“Only if you give me the jug back. I need it.”
“I’ll come around tomorrow and visit Yelena in the meantime, is that alright?”
Your smile fell for just a moment, before forcing it back. “Sounds great!”
Rushing away, you could barely hear her goodbye before you soon found Aemond again, handing him the dish. His nose wrinkled as you immediately sunk your fork into the pastry. “What is this?”
“Northern Snow.” Your answer was somewhat muffled by the amount of food in your mouth. “Marija’s traveled across the realms and has been popular for her desserts. The snow is just whipped cream with sugar and some rosewater.”
“The brown parts?” He poked the treat.
“Chocolate, but it’s meant to look like horse droppings.”
“I believe I’ll pass.”
You shook your head. “I’m meant to be showing you around the joys of the city that is not just brothels. Trust me.”
He matched your seriousness. “And if I find it revolting?”
“Then you may know where I tailor.”
Humming, he smiled as he dug his fork into the cake and then into his mouth. He pursed his lips together as you watched him ponder the taste. Then, he shook his head, taking another bite.
“You must be a witch to have known I would favor it.”
Smiling victoriously, the two of you walked a short while through the congested market until you managed to find two chairs and a table.
“What did you tell her?” He asked as you sat. “The woman who made this?”
“That you were Prince Aemond and would have my head if I did not serve you a Smallfolk delicacy.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.” You agreed, taking a bite of your treat. You hesitated on your next words. “I…she’s a romantic, and I didn’t have enough for the cakes, so I told her you were a rich lord courting me.”
It was nice you didn’t immediately expect him to lash out or condemn you to your death; he seemed genuinely composed every time you were with him, and he stuck to that.
“And what was my name?” He humored.
“I didn’t tell her one.” You teased. “If you were not yourself, what would you have wanted to be called?”
He hummed, taking time for an answer before settling on. “Ciarán.”
“I’ve met one or two of those.” You nodded. “It’s a good name.”
“Might I ask you a question now?”
“Of course.”
“Do you summon your knife out of thin air, or do you hide it in your cunt?”
Choking on your food, you placed your hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. Once you were alright, you finally looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“The rumors I’ve heard of you isn’t just about your beauty.” He grinned, knowing the effect on you. “It’s known that you assault men with a blade, but I’ve heard conflicting accounts.”
You stared at him for a little longer before shaking your head, snorting. “Inside of my thigh, like a normal person. You nearly grazed it the first night.”
“Did I?” He tilted his head to the side.
Nodding, you smirked as you took another bite. It was then that his eye darkened just a hint. “What?”
Aemond didn’t verbally respond. Instead, he bunched up the sleeve of his shirt, reached over to take your face into his free hand, and wiped the corner of your lip with his sleeve. “You had something white on your face.”
It was your turn to hum at his statement, continuing to eat; yet, you would glance at him more often while you slid the fork into your mouth, tongue trying to lick the utensil clean of the whipped cream. You both finished up in silence between each other, yet the people around you only chatted excitedly, laughed boldly, or moaned and fucked one another in the dingiest of places nearby.
“Is it fun to be a prince?” You asked, pushing in your chair when you bother stood to leave.
“I wouldn’t call it such.” Aemond shrugged, following suite, and the two of you were wandering aimlessly once again.
“Then what is it you do for fun?”
“I find myself in the library often; reading, studying the history.” He listed. “I train with Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Hand of the king.”
“You sound like you enjoy his company.”
“I enjoy making him falter as we spar.” He looked at you. “You mustn’t be so horrible in combat. On account of you supposedly taking men’s lives for bounties.”
Shaking your head, you place your hands in the pockets of the cloak. “I don’t take pride in it. I’ve also had my fair share of bruises and broken bones.”
“How many have you killed?”
“How many have you?”
Your response would’ve only worked if it had not been for the well-known fact he had killed Lucerys; something you had forgotten when you saw him again. Now, there you both were, your pace slowing equally in the silence that was the discomfort you had created.
Still, he responded. “Only one; and I assume you along with the rest of Westeros knows who by now.”
Nodding, you kept your eyes down on the road in front of you.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I did it?” He questioned.
You shook your head. “It’s not my place. If you wish to tell me, then tell me. If not, then I believe it’s your turn to ask something about me.”
Humming, he prodded. “Again, how many men have you killed?”
“The same as you.” You stood closer to him as a crew of rowdy men began to pass by. “He was an angry man; a ratcatcher fired from his profession, and to my luck, with no family or anyone to miss him.”
“It must have been his luck as well, considering what happened to all of them merely a week ago.”
You didn’t want to acknowledge the gate into that conversation. “I had only done the luring and thievery for a single moon; the worst I had come across was a bloodied nose and a bruised rib. This night…Chansey had warned me not to pursue him, but I was young and ignorant. I didn’t even get to the well before he came up behind me and…”
This was far too intimate of a story to tell someone you had only met twice; nonetheless, one of the princes of Westeros. You decided to end it as soon as possible. “He didn’t hurt me in the way you’re thinking. We struggled against one another, I had no knife with me at the time, but he did. He dropped it as we fought, we both reached for the blade, and I got it first.”
The two of you had somehow wandered into a small, quiet square; perhaps only a few other people resting from a drunken bender. Aemond, with his hands behind his back, simply inquired.
“Did he have anything of value on him?”
Shaking your head, you grinned. “Three pennies, a half-penny, and a surprisingly clean red scarf.”
“And the scarf was the most priceless.”
“Of course. I would’ve died in the winter without it.”
You both chuckled, and it was him who halted the walking. You stopped in front of him a few places.
 “I hadn’t meant to kill Luke.” Aemond admitted softly.
“Lucerys?” You clarified.
“Yes; only frighten him.” He sighed. “It…it was an unfortunate outcome to what I had intended.”
If he were not himself (perhaps the rich Lord Ciarán he wished to be for that one night), then you would have told him it did not matter what he intended. A boy was dead and that put all of Westeros at risk. Still, whilst your anger was present, you understood you would never know what happened that day. You also understood his regret above all; you had no right to act like a saint.
“Is there anything I can do?”
You genuinely had no idea how to respond to him. So, you did what your mother had done for you whenever you were upset as a child: Ask what you needed from her.
His eye met yours, and you somehow found the courage to not look away from him. After what felt like a lifetime, he approached you suddenly and gradually wrapped his arms around you. Your body was akin to a corpse with how frozen you had become. Still, it didn’t last for long as you found yourself easing into his hold, your own arms around his neck. The night was so quiet, you could hear his shallow breaths in your ear.
Then, his hand slipped into your pocket.
At the sudden change of touch, you flinched out of his touch, but he merely shushed you, pulling away fully. You reached into the pocket and pulled out what he had promised you; three silver moons.
Swallowing thickly, you looked up at him and saw…an array of emotions you could not describe. So, you spoke first.
“I…I hope tonight was enough for you. I’m not sure what else I-.”
“-It was nice.” He interrupted, his gaze still on you. “Lovely, even.”
Nodding, you pocketed the moons and kept your hands at your side. “I bid you a goodnight, Little Prince.”
He rose his brow. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to call me that.”
“Will you have my head then, your grace?” You taunted.
“I should.” He walked closer to you. “But I won’t. What direction is your house?”
Your heart leapt; yet, not in the way it should have after an attractive man (you would later admit) made a forward remark.
“Oh no, I will not bother you.”
“It is not a bother if I desire to see you home safely.” He argued.
“Aemond,” you stepped back, not wanting to play a game. “I don’t want you to walk with me for the rest of the night.”
The quietness returned; but, not one of comfort. He didn’t look angry, and that was what frightened you. He merely stood tall like a man.”
“I see.”
“I didn’t mean to say it so-.”
“-Yet you said it.”
Shaking your head, you tried again. “I offended you, and I’m sorry. My house is no place for anyone other than myself and-, not even other smallfolk.”
“I wouldn’t go inside if that is what worries you. I am merely curious.”
“Look,” you approached him again, only for him to step away. “if you wish to see me again, I wouldn’t mind at all-.”
“-As long as I have coin.”
Your face went blank for a few seconds you had been so shocked by his words, and soon formed a scowl. “You had offered.”
“You didn’t reject it.”
All you could do was laugh. “You-!”
He wasn’t the one to cut you off, it had been yourself. Taking a deep breath, you folded your hands over your mouth to ponder your next words. You were tired, frustrated, and wanted to go home. So, you did exactly that.
“Be safe on your journey back to the Red Keep.” Was all you said, and you brushed past him, expecting him to call you a nasty name, or chase after you again.
But, like the first night you had met him: He did nothing.
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A week later, you were back where you’d always been at night: Sylvi’s brothel. As you prettied yourself, the girls were restless; not with enthusiasm for the clients, but for the talk of war. Whether it was the fear of death it would bring, or the lust for strong men to take comfort inside of a woman.
You were a part of the former. Not as horrible as some girls (you found one vomiting up her dinner after the discussion), but you had to admit you were judgmental of those excited about it. You yourself had never experienced war…but if it was just a smidge like the violence you and other women had ever suffered multiplied by a thousand…it wasn’t something you were looking forward to.
Later, you waited in Sylvi’s private quarters (the one place no one is allowed to go during work hours unless she permitted it) until it was Chansey who came, saying she had quarry for you.
She had been with an older, retired member of the Lannister guards. He was three and fifty, she told you; fucked like an animal, but when it was over, while he desired to do it again, his body ached so horribly he could only walk.
It was meant to be easy…but for any reason at all, it wasn’t that night.
You stumbled as you brought your knife out, and he unsheathed a dagger from his side. You fought and fought, it almost being like a twisted dance; he’d strike, you’d doge, and vice versa. He swiped against your side, and it stung but you had no time to even seethe in pain as he brought his blade up to stab you again.
He’d gotten tired sooner than you imagined, and you grabbed onto his sleeve, then dragging him into a handful of barrels nearby. He landed in a crash, and he wasn’t getting up. He was still breathing as you looted him. A few Coppers and a silver Stag.
It was only then, as you pushed your way through the boisterous crowds, that you felt your head begin to lighten, and your side grow heavy. Looking down at the gnawing pain, you saw crimson soak your thin gown. Oh…you were wounded.
“Chansey?” You called out over the groaning of whores and their patrons once you made it back to the brothel. The lights seemed dimmer than usual, and with one hand keeping pressure on your wound, you used your other to tap the shoulder of the nearest server.
She gasped upon seeing you. “What happened?”
“Where’s Chansey?” You asked.
“She-she’s with someone.”
“Seven Hells, already?!” Sighing, you took one of the chalices off her tray. “Fuck it, I’ll do it myself.”
And you took it in one gulp. The server gaped at you as you took another one, also downing it like it was water. “Thank you.”
Her voices of worry were once again drowned out by the sound of constant pleasure from every corner of the brothel. Now, what the server did not tell you, was that it wasn’t the cheap wine usually served to the common payer; no…it was incredibly rich, and incredibly strong.
It also didn’t help you barely ate or drank water that day. So, to no one’s surprise but yours, you were stumbling through the entire pleasure house.
“Needle and thread?” You slurred, pulling open one of the curtains abruptly only to see five naked women lying next to two men. “Sorry.”
You felt the blood begin to seep through the small cracks of your fingers and your pressure wavering as you made your way to the next curtained area.
“Do you have a needle and thread?” You asked again, being welcomed by Valda laying on her back with a man’s head between her legs.
She screamed at your intrusion and cried your name. “What the fuck?!”
“Hey,” in your haze, you found it amusing. “do you know where Chansey is?”
“Get out!”
“Okay, okay.” you whistled at the man. “Good ser, I do declare that you are a gift from The Seven because only They know how many men actually come here to-.”
“-Wait, are you bleeding?!” She sat up in alarm.
You left immediately, taking deep breaths to try and remain upright as you continued your search. A hand grazed your shoulder.
“Are you alright, girl?”
A putrid looking man questioned with a toothy grin as you turned briefly to see who touched you. You nodded. “I’m fine, go away.”
“Hey now,” he tried to make a grab for you again, but you shoved him off. “don’t be like that.”
“I’m dying, I think I can be.”
“Let me give you a little death.” He flirted.
You grabbed the nearest curtain, tossing it aside. “For fuck’s sake, does anyone have a-?!”
Words failed as you gazed upon Madame Sylvi sucking the cock of a standing man. It was then that your eyes traveled up his body, and saw a familiar, silver-haired prince.
A prince with one eye shut, and a sapphire where an eye-patch should have been.
Your mouth ran dry at the sight of him falling apart in whimpers, and it dropped once his eye opened and immediately went to yours.
Aemond released a loud groan, tossing his head back as cum dripped through the creases of Sylvi’s mouth. She drew herself away from him, still on her knees, wiping her mouth and looking over at your interruption.
“What in the devil’s name are you doing here?!”
Your words fell into syllables as you genuinely had no idea what to say. Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw the man that had been following retreat.
“Hey!” You yelled, hobbling after him. “You sheep fucker, get back here!”
Two hands grabbed your shoulders and turned you around sharply, causing a reminder of the wound in your side. You hissed, clutching it and trying to smother a cry. You kept your head low as the person who had manhandled you led you back into Sylvi’s small room. You were laying on the pillows and thin mattress. It was then you saw Aemond Targaryen hovering above you.
“No-!” You tried to push him away.
“-Calm down.” He insisted, restraining you. “You’re going to make it worse.”
“If you touch me, I’ll carve out your other eye and feed it to your mother.” You slurred.
Instead of killing you right there, he thinned his lips. “While I don’t doubt that, you shouldn’t need to worry; I’m well spent.”
You gagged, shutting your eyes in disgust and tossing your head further into the pillow you rested on. You felt a presence soon beside you, and you opened your eyes to see Sylvi.
“My prince,” she turned to Aemond. “please wait in my personal quarters and I’ll-.”
“-I’ll hold her down.” He interrupted. “She’s a fighter, if you don’t know.”
“Believe me,” she unscrewed a bottle of alcohol. “I do.”
Sylvi hiked up your dress, completely exposing you from the waist down, and poured liquid over your side, causing a squeal to escape your throat. In an attempt to not just remain calm for yourself and everyone else in the building, you did your best to stifle your cries. It only became harder to do once Sylvi stuck a needle in your skin.
That was when you instinctively rose yourself up, only for Aemond to force you back down, putting his entire weight upon you. Your hands traveled up to his bare shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin and even scratching in an animalistic attempt to get him off of you.
Tears welled in your eyes as you took in quivering breaths and suppressed your grunts in pain. It looked like everything was underwater, and you could barely make out the face of the man above you. You only saw the shimmering jewel where his left eye should’ve been.
Then, the pain was over.
Your heartbeat began to slow down, and it was no longer the only sound in your ears. Your body rose momentarily as you felt bandages being wrapped around your waist, and your dress finally lowered, covering your nakedness. You felt a warm hand brush your face gently before it pulled away abruptly.
“What did you do now?” Sylvi sighed, tossing her materials away.
You groaned, unable to move. “Bad job.”
“And so, you decided to come and bother me?”
“Chansey was fucking someone and I-.”
“-Watch your words!” She lightly slapped your face and whispered fiercely. “Prince Aemond is here, and I will not have you speak like that.”
You laughed, glancing over at Aemond, who had put his pants on, and was working on his shirt. “Do you hear that, Aemond? I can’t say ‘fuck’!”
“Are you drunk?” She hissed.
“Nooooo.” You trailed off before giggling.
Sylvi stood, placing her head in her hands and shaking her head. Now noticing how strange the whole situation was, you pushed yourself up. Your body was scalding, but you would rather die walking away from embarrassment than in the heat of it.
“He had some coin.” you sat up. “I don’t know where it went, but I’ll find it. I have to go home now.”
“You are not walking out like this.” She pushed you back down.
“I’m not sleeping here.”
“I’ll take her back.”
The prince stood tall, slipping his patch over the sapphire. Sylvi shook her head. “No.”
“Are you questioning my authority, Madame?” He challenged.
You watched her flinch. Then, taking a breath she explained. “You needn’t bother with her; she’s a humble, little thing that doesn’t listen to anyone other than herself. Besides, you requested and paid for two hours, yet you have only used twenty min-.”
“-I will gladly spend the rest of it escorting her home.”
Again, the only sounds being heard was skin slapping alongside loud moans outside. You looked in between the prince and the Madame as if you were a child being fought over. So, coughing, you sat up again.
“Can I wear my own clothes, please?”
Sylvi, for the first time that night, coddled you. “Of course. Aemond, could you tell the first girl you see to fetch her clothes from my quarters, please?”
He nodded, leaving you two alone. When he was out of sight, she brushed the hair sticking against your sweaty face.
“Tell him you changed your mind, and you’re too weak to walk.” She begged.
“And if he says he’ll carry me?”
She scoffed. “He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
Sylvi kissed your cheek as if to soothe you. “I don’t want you to be alone with him.”
“He told me he already had his fill of cunt.”
“Men can still hurt little girls without their cock.”
“Take a look at me,” you sassed. “don’t you think I already know that?”
She said your name softly. “He’s not as kind as he seems.”
“No, he’s not. He acts like he’s been born out of an ass’ ass. I mean…how you feel about the Dowager Queen-.”
Slamming a hand over your mouth, she spoke in your ear. “-Not another word from you. You listen to me; I’ve come to know him for the years I’ve spent with him longer than the weeks you have had with him.”
“If he’s so horrible,” you took her hand away. “then tell me what he has done.”
“He-.”
“-Never mind, I don’t care.”
Instead of stepping into the room, Aemond had tossed your set of clothes through the curtains, landing on the floor. Without words, but with looks that could kill, Sylvi helped dress you and then led you out of the brothel.
It was downpouring, and while your clothes thankfully covered almost every inch of your skin, save for your face, you weren’t in the mood to be bathed in rainwater. Sylvi hadn’t even wished you a proper goodbye; just nodded to a hooded Aemond beside you and went back inside.
“I assume you can walk?” He asked, almost annoyed at his own idea to walk you home.
“You’re not going to carry me?” You teased.
“No.”
Sighing dramatically, you took a few steps out into the rain, and immediately felt agonizing pain. Well, not as bad as earlier, but it hurt. Still, you decided to follow the best given advice: Walk it off.
“Stop, stop.” Aemond shook his head after you limped four more steps, coming to your side. “Lean against me.”
You didn’t argue, draping your arm over his shoulders. You both walked as quick as you could in the rain, you giving him directions the best you could (he had to turn around twice to go back to the same fork in the road) until you tapped his shoulder.
“Wait-wait, I don’t feel good.”
“Seven Hells.” He cursed, pulling you over to the side of the street. Grabbing your hands he placed them on the nearest wall, standing behind you to guide you.
“Hey, hey!” You rose your voice. “Don’t-don’t you even think of hiking my skirt up!”
“You’re going to smell like death in a moment, why would I ever-?”
“-Because men are…are…”
You gagged, and Aemond’s hands immediately vanished as you threw up what little you had eaten that day. Your throat was on fire the whole time, making the chill of the rain even more apparent.
“Oi!” An older man yelled. “Are you alright, ma’am?”
You nodded, wiping your mouth and turning over to look at him standing in a doorway of his shop. “Yes, thank you!”
“Do you know that man with you?”
Before Aemond could say anything, you pat his shoulder affectionately. “I’ll have you know, this is Lord Ciarán of House…Strong…Man, Strongman. He’s one of the richest men in Westeros.”
“Is that so?” He nodded, then looked at your companion. “Lad, do yourself a favor and put your old lady to bed.”
Aemond forced a smile, taking your arm and returning it back to its proper place over his shoulder. The two of you were on the road again, you leading him blindly throughout the streets. The rain felt nice at this point; not exactly, but your throat had been parched, so most of the time, you were holding your mouth up and tongue out like a child to catch the rainwater.
At one point, he hissed in pain, his hand coming up to his eyepatch.
“What is it, what’s wrong?!” You gasped.
“Nothing.” He cursed. “’Just keep going.”
Reluctantly, you carried on through King’s Landing until you reached your home.
“Okay, we’re here.” You stopped him a few minutes later.
Aemond looked at the building before him; it was a bouchère. “Here?”
“No, down there.”
He followed your gaze, and sure enough, there was a set of stairs to the side leading down. Carefully, you both scaled down the steps, and entered your home.
There was no leaking anywhere, to your surprise. With only the little amount of light within the sitting room, you knew Aemond (even with one eye) could see just how much dust there was on the furniture.
“Hells,” he sighed heavily, slipping off his cloak before you could stop him. “how do you live in this humidity? I can barely breathe.”
“I-.”
“-Vivi.” A sweet, tired voice called for you.
In the corner of the room, in her usual chair, was your grandmother. Her eyes drew up to the door once you entered, and they were alight.
“I thought you were out for too long.” She stood.
“Evening, Gigi.” You staggered over, embracing her. “And how was holding down the fort?”
“Some mice almost came in, but I showed them who was the boss around here.”
“I’m sure you did.”
It was only then did she fully realize there was someone else with you; a man. A man with silver hair. She gasped, turning back to you.
“Siobhan, you didn’t tell me the king was visiting!”
You cackled. “Gigi no, this is my friend-.”
She gently took his hand into hers, kissing it. “-Your grace, you must forgive my dear girl; she has a knack for getting into trouble, but not for telling me things.”
And then, Aemond did something you weren’t expecting. He placed his other hand over your grandmother’s, smiling.
“All is forgiven.”
Her grin was contagious as she pulled her hand away to hike her long skirt up, walking to the kitchen. “Oh, I shall make tea! Imagine what Cassian would think?” She chuckled. “Jaehaerys himself in our house!”
The name she uttered sobered you up; not all of you, but enough for terror to return into your body. Once she was out of sight, with a growing fear in your eyes, you looked at Aemond.
“You-you must understand, she hasn’t been herself since I was a child. I don’t think she’s even aware there is-was another-.”
“-I’m not a fool.” He stopped you. Noticing you had the face of someone who would vomit for the second time that night, he said. “I told you; I enjoyed reading the histories. I’m well aware the king before my father was Jaehareys.”
Feeling as if you could breathe again, you rested against the wall. “Thank you.”
Aemond hummed. “Why ‘Gigi’?”
“She never liked me calling her ‘Grandmama’.”
“And who’s Siobhan?”
Your eyes drew to the ground. No mice were in the house, but a few spiders had made their way in. “My mother.”
“Ah.” Was all he could manage.
“She uh, she died when I was one and ten; that’s when Gigi…”
“How?”
“What?”
“How did she die?”
Something clogged your throat, and your head felt heavy all over again. Swallowing the lump, you tried to find the words to-.
“-Forgive me. “Aemond spoke. “I shouldn’t have prodded.”
“No, you-.” You shook your head. “I understand your curiosity.”
And there you two were, against the wall in silence. Sighing you finally said.
“She forgets what she was meant to do when she enters a room with a purpose.” You explained. “I guarantee you, she’s doing a puzzle instead of making tea. We don’t have the best leaves anyway.”
He nodded. “Do you wish for me to leave, then?”
Your eyes went to one of the only windows in the house; the long, thin panel at the top where you could see the feet of everyone in King Landing if it were a nice day. The rain came down harsher, the spattering of water being almost too loud.
“You can stay until the storm eases,” you answered. “if you want.”
“I would prefer it.”
Nodding, the heaviness of your head did not cease, and your eyes drifted to the doorway in the back of sitting room. You made your way through it, glancing back at Aemond.
“If I may be candid, I’m quite exhausted. So…unless you’d prefer being called ‘Your Grace’ by my grandmother, then you’re more than welcome to talk with me in my room.”
“Hm, the former sounds tempting.” Despite his words, he followed close behind you.
You pushed open your door, took a few steps towards your bed, and lowered yourself to lie down with a sharp wince. The prince took his time observing your room, taking in every little detail. From the residue of a mess being pushed under your bed, to old childhood art pieces up on the wall.
One piece had caught his eye the most. A sketch of a woman’s face; a haunting gaze in her eyes that would make anyone believe she was watching them.
Much like yours…
“This is Siobhan?”
Better to use your mother’s name as if she were a stranger instead of calling her ‘your mother’.
“Gigi drew that.” You smiled lightly. “It was on one of her namedays.”
“It’s beautiful.”
His compliment unnerved you before it flattered you. You deflected with a joke. “Beautiful enough to have her paint the Targaryens the next time they so desire it?”
“If she cannot remember to boil tea-?”
“-She is herself again when she does or speak of things she loves.” You sat farther up against the wall behind your bed “Even if they’re things that no longer are with us.”
He sat at the edge of the mattress. “And what are some of those things?”
Oh, where to start? As your mind rattled over what exactly to say first, you truly looked over Aemond for the first time. It was strange; you had acknowledged his attractiveness for just a moment, but never delved more into it.
Then, as you stared at him, you knew exactly what to tell him.
Giggling, you began. “Cassian was my grandfather; I hadn’t known him, he died before I was born. Still, if it’s not him she speaks about being in love with, it’s ‘Elio’; a Dornish man, her first love.”
“Some might say they are far greater than the one you marry.” He shrugged.
“She’s never told me his real name.” You leaned forward. “She said that he had to keep it secret from her for a long time, and he only told her after she got drunk, and he thought she wouldn’t remember.”
The two of you laughed lightly, and you kept going through your giggles. “He-he was only in King’s Landing for a year and went back to Sunspear. They would send ravens to each other, but then he stopped one day. She married my grandfather, had my mother, he died, and that was life.”
“And then there was you.”
You nodded, thinning your lips. “And then there was me.”
“You’ve talked about your mother, but you haven’t mentioned your father yet.”
Sighing, you rubbed your finger into the blanket you rested upon, looking away from him. “When my grandfather’s heart gave out, Gigi had to take on more work at the tailor’s and they still weren’t making enough for food. So…my mother took up working with Sylvi. She was fifteen, and Sylvi only let her cook and clean. When she was of age, she let her go to bed with the men for her coin. I could’ve walked past my father, and I wouldn’t be able to know.”
Aemond stared at her, nodding. “You’re a bastard.”
“It’s the one time I enjoy being smallfolk.” You shrugged. “I can just as easily lie and say my father died while married to my mother.”
“No one else knows?”
“Sylvi and Marija; the woman who gave us Winter Snow.” You scoffed. “Some old neighbors who’ve thankfully died, but I still remember their insults as I passed by them when I was just a child.”
He hummed, and you did not blame him for not saying anything after you. The two of you just existed in your childhood bedroom, the rain still beating against the roof, but not quite as hard this time.
“What were you like when you were a boy?” You questioned.
“Not like my brother or nephews.” He answered right away. “They…teased me a lot.”
“I’ve never had brothers or sisters, but aren’t they meant to?”
“Not like how they did.”
Oh…so it was bad. You wouldn’t ask him how horrible it was, knowing that there are some things no one would ever want to speak of.
“I’m sorry they did.”
He shook his head. “No need, it was years ago.”
“It was still wrong.”
Aemond didn’t say anything; didn’t even look at you. Then, for some reason…you felt compelled (maybe even okay) to tell him. “My mother she…died the same way my grandfather did.”
“His heart.”
“We-we think so. It’s strange though; she was so young, and just one night we were eating dinner, she stands to go tend to the fire…and she fell. It…it was as if her soul had been sucked away from her and all that was left was her body.”
“And you think you’ll die like her.”
Swallowing thickly, you had hoped he didn’t see right through you about that; but at the same time…how freeing it felt to be seen even in the most shameful and terrifying moments of life.
“She was the main provider for our house.” You went into more detail. “Gigi tried her best, but it wasn’t enough. My mother…Sylvi hasn’t told me everything she did to earn enough coin, and I don’t think I want to know. Many healers have said that people dying from a bad heart at such a young age is due to stress. I don’t know if they’re right, and even when I was one and ten, I did everything in my power not to feel so, but Gigi would wander around King’s Landing late at night, or we couldn’t afford food for days on end…”
You were vomiting all of your troubles onto him, it was disgusting; but, once you started, you couldn’t stop. The storm had picked up again, and from how the wind shook the walls of your room, you thought they would all crumble.
“Sylvi knew of us struggling, and she paid for our meals. I was to become an indentured servant to her, like how my mother was; cooking, cleaning, running odd errands…but she paid me in coin as well. I think-I think she thought I was going to follow in my mother’s footsteps when I was of age, but I refused. That’s when some of the girls and I came up with a way for me to make extra coin, and here we are.”
“She never let anyone younger than seventeen be a whore?”
For a moment, you pondered how that was the one thing he got from your nervous ramblings. Still, you decided it wasn’t best to think about it. “She didn’t want men bedding little girls.”
“I suppose it’s different for girls.”
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It was my thirteenth nameday when my brother brought me to Sylvi’s pleasure house.” He said it as if it was common knowledge. “He said I needed to know everything there was about women. Your Madame certainly taught me well. It makes sense I suppose; girls are taught to be more ashamed about it.”
Even with the storm still going outside, the only sound you could hear was the beating of your own heart. “…What?”
You remembered what it was like when you were that age. Your body felt strange, you bled between your legs for the first time, you wanted a husband right away one moment, and then wanted to be a child forever the next. You were good at talking to men who were older than you…but…being intimate? No…and Sylvi had…Sylvi had-?
“Is something wrong?”
If you were delusional, you would say he seemed concerned. Still, if you were to tell him that what Sylvi had done was hypocritical and despicable of her, you would go red in the face with tears, and he would only spit on you and say you wouldn’t understand, and-.
“-Your hair.” You said, having been staring at it whilst your mind rushed. “Has…has it always been curly?”
Aemond scowled, not in scorn, but in puzzlement. It must’ve started to dry as he spent time in the house; it must’ve been frizzy and horrible as well. “Yes.”
You forced a smile. “And here I thought only the ladies of the night burned their hair since men favor it straight.”
“Mothers too.” He sighed when he saw the look you gave him. “It curled more by the time I was fourteen. She had the servants straighten it for me ever since; I believe she hates anything about me that is a reminder that she is my mother.”
“Aemond…”
“I don’t need your pity. I’ve been with her since I was born, it is nothing new and I have-.”
You don’t know why you reached forward and combed a strand of his hair between two of your fingers. Maybe it was because you were still tipsy, or maybe it’s because you just wanted to. He flinched upon your touch, and so did you.
“For-forgive me,” you backed farther up your bed. “I-I forgot myself and I-.”
He brought himself forward, taking both of your hands. Without looking at you, he brought both of them into his hair. Almost like it was second nature, you began to gently run your fingers over his scalp. He shut his eye, his hands traveling to drape along your waste, and he bent his head to rest upon your chest.
It was strange. Strange but nice. You were holding him, but just to have the illusion of you also being cared for…not even your grandmother had done something like this for years.
“I like your hair just how it is.” You whispered after a minute. “If it matters at all.”
He merely hummed, his hand travelling under your shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his finger caress the skin above your wound. Your hands did not still, continuing to comb through his hair softly.
His finger traveled farther up, circling the swell of your breast. You made a noise you hadn’t made before, and you thought you sounded ridiculous. He hummed against your chest, and…
And…
Something between your legs felt like it was beating; like your heart, but it wasn’t that.
“I’m going to touch you there.” He mumbled against the fabric of your shirt. “Alright?”
No, no it wasn’t alright, but it was at the same time.
It wasn’t okay because you’ve only heard stories about this from the girls at the brothel, but it was okay because-because you liked him, and he was-
and you were-
and everything feels warm-
and the way he talked to you-
and the way you-!
“Get off!” You whispered once you heard just the lightest of footsteps outside your door. He listened, backing away quickly to the edge of the bed. An almost silent knock came from your door, and you smiled. “Come in!”
Gigi pushed herself in, holding a tray with two steaming mugs, setting it on the bed. “I’m so sorry, your grace. We do not have tea leaves, so is milk alright?”
Aemond nodded. “It is.”
“How have the both of you been?”
You wore a thin grin. “Fine.”
She nodded, looking in between the two of you. As if she knew what had just taken place, she gave a wry smile and turned to leave. “Well, the rain is dying down now. Let me know if you two need anything else.”
“Thank you, Gigi.” You said without another thought.
She didn’t shut the door when she left. You picked up the mug, took a sip and immediately felt your body heal just a little. Warm milk does numbers on a soul.
“I should take my leave now.” The prince stood up abruptly, dusting himself off.
You tried to stand. “I’ll walk you out.”
The wound at your side burned every inch you moved, and you did a horrible job concealing it. Aemond gently took your shoulders, pushing you back down.
“Rest.” He commanded. “You’re injured, and it’s late.”
“And when have you ever cared?” You teased
“Perhaps just now.” He matched your tone.
“Do you know what I hate?”
“Me? Life itself? Men?”
“Yes, to the last two.” You feel your chest constrict at what you would say next. “I hate that you told Sylvi you would spend time with me because you paid her for…other things previously.”
Aemond tilted his head to the side. “Is that so?”
She nodded. “You…you no longer have to pay for my company. You’ve seen me in turmoil, and I’ve seen you naked.”
He laughed…he laughed in a way you’d never heard him laugh before. “Is that what makes us allies?”
“Friends?” You reworded. “You understand the meaning, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” He scoffed.
“So…are we friends now?”
Friends who touch each other in ways they usually don’t.
A hint of a smile spread across his lips. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Friends.”
You dropped your face, hopefully to avoid him seeing how you blushed. The damage was done though. Regaining yourself, you took a deep breath and looked at him.
“And…I’m aware I won’t be the first person you’ll seek if you’re in distress, but please know I will help if you need it.”
“Do not call yourself inadequate.” He shook his head. “I might have some use for you.”
You scoffed. “How considerate of you.”
“Rest now.” He repeated, turning to leave without a proper goodbye.
You sat up. “Wait!” Aemond did not turn to look at you, but he stopped. “Your eye. When you were walking me home, you were in pain. Does it still hurt?”
He was silent. For a moment, you thought it was to come up with a lie, then you assumed it was to find the words to tell you the truth…you had too much faith in him for either.
“It’s late.” He said your name softly and walked out of your bedroom. You heard the front door open then shut.
And there you were, on your bed, alone with an undrunk mug of milk.
The rain had completely stopped.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months ago
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Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Tangerine falls in love with his pretty neighbor.
Genre: Fluff 🍰
Warnings: swearing, blood, def a cliché mess but in a good way (hopefully)
~ breaking my T.S title streak for this one! inspired by the song Too Sweet by Hozier ~
TANGERINE MASTERLIST
It truly was some cruel sick joke that the sweetest looking girl he had ever seen had moved into the house across from his.
Tangerine honestly couldn't remember the last time he let himself have anything truly good in his life, since he knows everything he touches burns right in front of him. Which meant he made the decision that he can't afford that with you—so he's stayed as far away from you as possible.
You, on the other hand, have never wanted to become friends with anyone so much as you did with your two, mostly quiet, neighbors in the house in front of yours.
You'd overheard some neighborly gossip that they weren't to be messed with—gangsters or something like that. You didn't really believe those rumors considering you'd seen one of them, the one with dark skin and platinum hair, feeding the birds that rest on their porch. 
What kind of dangerous gangster would care about birds?
So, that's why, one month into having moved in, you stand in front of their door with a plate of miniature strawberry shortcakes displayed neatly in a pink tray. It feels corny and stupid when no one answers the door for a moment. You raise your hand to knock again when eventually the door opens and you look up, making eye contact with eyes that are the prettiest shade of blue you've ever seen.       
The man is dressed in a white button-up, half of it unbuttoned in his trousers and his brown hair is curled naturally, the ends sticking up messily as he looks you over. He tucks something behind him, clearing his throat awkwardly as his gaze falls to the tray in your hands. "Pastries," he says, his voice velvety and his British accent thick. 
You hold the tray out closer to him. "Shortcakes. I made them myself," you say with a smile and the man just looks annoyed—his lips twitching as he looks you over again, taking in your apron and the cream that's smeared on your cheeks. 
"It's late," he points out calmly, "much too late for afternoon tea."
He's right. It is. It's almost seven—you'd just taken more time with the cakes than you'd wanted. You feel embarrassed now and lower the tray.
"Oh," you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd had a whole introduction plan and now you're flustered. "You could use them as a late-night snack—" you pause, trying to explain, "Most nights, I see that your lights are on when I wake up at around three or four am for water and–well if you already can't sleep, a sweet treat wouldn't do you any harm?"
You feel like the creepiest stalker as the man's eyes widen. 
"Sorry, this was a stupid," you say and turn around, preparing to walk away when the man's voice interrupts your thoughts. 
"I'm allergic to strawberries," he says, "but my brother isn't. He'd love them. Here, I'll take 'em." He takes the tray from you as you turn back around and he looks down at the cakes he's now holding. Tangerine can tell you clearly spent time on them and he has to fight himself not to smile. 
"Thank you—"
"Y/n," you say your name much too quickly, itching for connection to this mystery man. 
"Thank you, Y/n."
You don't even hesitate when you ask, "And you are?"
Tangerine hesitates. He can't tell you his real name. Speaking to you like this, out in the open, is already risky. He sniffs nonchalantly and uses an excuse, one he hopes you won't question too much. "My friends call me Tangerine."
You laugh and the sound is so beautiful it's unfair. "Tangerine? What? Is that some shitty drunken inside joke with your mates at Uni?" you guess, pushing down the curiosity to jokingly ask if you using his nickname makes you his friend. It's too soon for questions like that.
He shrugs. "Mm, something like that," he says and he doesn't elaborate further. You wonder if you'll be worthy of his real name one of these days, but for now, this feels like some progress. You smile at him, rocking on your heels for a moment and then you look back across the street at your house. 
"Well, Tangerine, it was lovely meeting you but I should—" you point behind you with a smile. "I'll see you around and hopefully I can meet your brother! Enjoy the shortcakes!" you wave and skip down the steps as Tangerine watches you, his stomach filled with unfamiliar, normally dormant, butterflies.  
He chuckles, biting his cheek, and then walks back inside. He untucks his gun from his trousers and slides it into the designated drawer of the entrance table, shaking his head with a small smile as he remembers your wide grin. He returns to the living room and puts the tray next to Lemon's puzzle. 
"Someone important?" Lemon asks and then he looks up and sees the cakes. His smile widens and he doesn't hesitate to take one. "Ooo, pastries," he exclaims and practically stuffs one in his mouth, humming with joy. 
"Nah, just our neighbor," Tangerine says and runs a hand in his hair, leaning against the table and mindlessly playing with one of the puzzle pieces as he remembers how pretty you looked. 
Lemon cocks an eyebrow and speaks with his mouth full. "Which one?"
Tangerine shrugs. "Does it matter?" 
Lemon rolls his eyes. "Yer bein' weird as fuck. It was that cute bird from across the street, wasn't it? The one ya keep starin' at when you can see 'er from 'er window—like some creep—"
"Oh, piss off," Tangerine grunts, lowering his head to hide how pink his cheeks have turned.
Lemon hums, continuing to eat the pastries you'd made them, and grins. He knows how his brother is; always too damn proud to admit he has any feelings other than nonchalance and disdain. But he's seen how Tangerine is smitten with you without even an interaction and he can't wait to see where this goes. 
"Want one?" Lemon asks as he motions toward the tray.
"No. I'm allergic to strawberries."
Lemon laughs. "Ya aren't allergic to strawberries, you numpty."
Tangerine stands straighter, eyeing the tray of what looks like really delicious shortcakes for a moment until his jaw clenches and he turns around, his thumbs hooking in his pockets. "I am now," he says bluntly.
* * *
Lemon has gone inside first as Tangerine hangs behind, making sure the garage is fully secured. He's exhausted and there are dark bags under his eyes. Usually, he'll take the inside entrance into the house, but this morning he needs some fresh air after that mission. He walks outside and looks up at the dusty pink sky. It's 4:30 am in the morning—no sane person would be up. 
"Mr. Tangerine!" 
He startles at his name, holding his hands behind him—knowing they're still covered in blood. He looks up and his eyes widen when he sees you.
You're walking across the street to meet him, tightening your ponytail as your grin widens. You don't look sleepy at all. "Good morning," you say and look him over, "Weird running attire," you joke, mentioning the navy blue suit he's wearing.
"Running?" he echoes. 
You drop your arms to your sides, looking him over with a small, amused, frown. "Oh– I just assumed—most people, including myself, are only up at this hour for a morning run. What are you doing?" 
You ask the question so innocently that Tangerine doesn't know how to answer. 
He can't exactly tell you what he's been doing. How the truth is he's been out all night killing for money. He pushes the image of your disappointed and scared look from his mind and lies. "Oh, I like seeing the sunrise," he says, sounding nonchalant, pushing his hands in his pockets quickly so you don't see the dried, crimson, mess. 
Hopefully, you'll leave him alone soon. 
Unluckily for him, you don't leave him alone. "Oh! I love watching the sunrise!" you say, smiling as you point behind you, adjusting your sneakers. "We should go see it someday," you offer kindly, your tone a more sincere nonchalance than he was, "no pressure or anything." 
Tangerine is speechless. He blinks at you, his sharp blue eyes scanning you up and down. You must be kidding. No sensible soul would invite a stranger to do something seemingly so intimate. You shouldn't be inviting him like this, you don't know him. He's dangerous. 
"You don't know me, why would you want to do that?" he asks bluntly. 
You shrug, still looking as nonchalant as ever. "Can't know you if you shut me out," you say, smiling, as you return his bluntness. When he doesn't answer, you just send him a small wave, saying your goodbyes as you begin your run. 
Tangerine is tempted to run with you now. To protect you. He shakes that thought. 
Lemon interrogates him the moment he comes back inside. "Flirtin' with her now, Tan?"
"You're gettin' on my fuckin' tits," Tangerine grunts, your offer still swarming his mind. Lemon laughs. 
Tangerine doesn't have much peace until he eventually, after you deliver more and more pastries as an excuse to talk to him, accepts.
He doesn't sleep a wink that night. He's a nervous wreck as he plays every scenario in his mind and spends hours in the kitchen just to see your smile when he walks out of his house with a covered basket as the morning sun prepares to peak from the clouds.
Your eyes widen and you rush over, your pretty sundress hugging you in ways that make him lose his mind even more. 
"You made something?" you ask, grasping at his arm. Tangerine hums, guiding you to his car. 
"I know a spot," he whispers, hiding his smile. The drive is silent but comfortable and when he drives you to a park, he walks with you up the hill. You watch with amusement as he fusses over the picnic cloth and then opens his basket and pulls out a bowl of strawberries drizzled with frozen chocolate and a small bowl of whipped cream. You both sit down and you look at him, slightly confused. 
"As a thank you for the shortcakes."
"I thought you were allergic to strawberries."
You both say in unison and you laugh. Tangerine's cheeks turn pink and he runs a hand in his hair, answering you, "I- I lied. I just, I was nervous," he says as he picks up a strawberry and outstretches his hand. You smile and look at the cream.
"You whipped this yourself?"
He nods. "The store-bought cream is always disgustingly sweet," he shakes his head and dips the strawberry in the cream before he turns to you again, your knees almost touching as you lean in. You refuse to take the fruit and instead, you part your lips and stare at him, your heart hammering. 
You wonder if this is too forward, but Tangerine brings the strawberry to your lips. It takes bittersweet, like how you assume he would taste, the dark chocolate mixes with the whipped cream, and some falls from your lips. He doesn't say anything as he catches the drip with his thumb, looking at you intensely as his heart beats loudly in his ears. 
"Were my shortcakes too sweet for you?" you ask in a murmur, his hand not leaving your face. 
Tangerine knows he shouldn't. He knows he'll hate himself after but nothing sounds more appealing than kissing you now—so he does.
He can taste the chocolate on your lips as his hands cup lightly around your throat, his touch light. Just enough of a warning as to who he truly is. You gasp, not minding at all, as you kiss him back.
As complicated as you know it will be, this feels so right. 
Tangerine's hand finds your waist and, bunching up your dress a little in the process, he pulls you in closer. He takes a breath, looking down at you as he ignores the screaming in his head. "No," he whispers, knowing damn well he'd held himself back from tasting them, "No, they weren't too sweet for me."
It doesn't matter because, in the end, he isn't talking about the shortcakes.
tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv
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thesightstoshowyou · 3 months ago
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No Questions Asked
Ledger!Joker x F Reader
- Chapter One -
Summary: A house call puts you in the path of Gotham’s newest menace.
Warnings: Gunshot wounds, blood, descriptions of medical procedures and medical “torture,” reader is described as having longer hair because I was gripped with insanity and had to write that scene, swearing.
[A/N: This is a bit different than what I usually write! Stepping out of my comfort zone, I guess. Let me know how I did!]
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The sidewalk simmers, heat rising off pavement. A weak breeze billows through the street, bringing with it the stench of refuse and exhaust. Gotham in the summer smells like literal hot garbage.
Paradise.
Your nose wrinkles and you tug your hat further down on your forehead to shield your eyes from the sun. Towering buildings offer shade, but thousands of windows reflect the glare of that accursed star at just the right angle to blind unsuspecting passerby. Even the skyscrapers here mean harm.
You weave through the crowd, calves burning with your quick, deliberate steps. The strap of your bag digs into your shoulder and sweat gathers beneath it until your shirt adheres to your skin. The relative cool of the alley you enter would be a relief if you weren’t already so sticky.
The door is unassuming; metal, distressed, a little rusted at the corners like all the others nearby save for the rectangular peep hole at eye level. You knock twice, two sharp raps in quick succession. Almost immediately, the shutter over the peep hole slides open with a clang.
You raise your chin in greeting to the pair of eyes that inspect you through the opening. Slam goes the shutter. The muted click of locks opening reaches your ears before the hinges squeal as the door is tossed open.
You don’t wait for permission from the burly man behind the door. Instead, you cross the threshold and descend the worn stairs two at a time. An annoyed sigh leaves your lips when the stuffy basement air presses into your already overheated skin. You’d think these rich assholes could at least afford some a/c.
Rossi meets you in the doorway. His uneasy expression immediately sets you on edge and you worry the urgency of the situation had not been properly conveyed over the phone. He gives you a look before you step into the room, a glance that says, ‘Don’t ask questions.’
He must think you’re an idiot. You could not have made it in this job for as long as you have by allowing your curiosity to speak for you.
It immediately becomes apparent what Rossi meant when you enter. The low ceiling is dotted here and there with aging, incandescent bulbs that bathe the room in sickly yellow. At the center of the room is a round, makeshift “conference” table littered with bloody paper towels and rags.
A few goons you don’t recognize hover uselessly around another slumped in a fold out chair, the reason you’d been called here on such short notice. He’s vaguely familiar, a distant relative of Maroni’s—Ronny Something. He’s clammy and pale, his scarlet coated fingers pressed limply to the wound in his shoulder.
However, what draws your attention and raises your hackles is the man seated in the corner atop an overturned box. His legs are spread wide and he hunches over them, elbows resting on his knees, fingers clad in purple leather and absently fiddling with a pocket knife. Dark green hair hangs like oily curtains next to a grease-painted face. Stained mostly white with blacked out eyes and a curling red grin, it’s apparently supposed to be a crude imitation of a clown. Above him, the light bulb flickers, throwing him in and out of shadow, but you can still make out the sharp eyes trained directly on you.
You don’t ask. Never do. That rule had been made abundantly clear. Instead you stride across the room and shoo the henchmen aside. Bending at the waist, you pull Ronny’s hand away from his shoulder and click your tongue as blood gushes from two distinct bullet holes.
“I was told these were grazes,” you start as you straighten to shoot a glare at Rossi. “There’s at least two slugs still in there. I’m gonna have to call the doc. He needs anesthetic and blood and other shit to keep him from going into shock. I don’t have the tools—
“Do it,” dares a sing-song voice. Startled, you turn to face the man in the corner. He’s smiling now, yellow teeth peeking between red, his upturned cheeks pockmarked and twisted. You realize the paint covers thick scars that stretch away from his lips like a macabre extension of his grin. The intensity in his gaze is difficult to hold so you don’t, instead glancing at Rossi, the unspoken question of, ‘Who the fuck does this weirdo think he is?’ written all over your face.
“No, no, no, no don’t look at him. Look at me.” Even with the weird, warbled inflection of his voice, there’s authority in his tone and an unspoken threat should you disobey. Brows knitting into a frown, you do as you’re told, and your head twists back to meet the eyes of the clown in the corner. The air in the room is thick and heavy and it’s no longer because of the heat. You can barely even hear the other men breathe.
“I’m a nurse. I don’t have the expertise necessary to perform surgery.” Not entirely accurate these days, but he doesn’t need to know that. “He could die, and then my head would wind up on a plate.”
“I like your head…where it’s at.” His own head shakes a little with his words and a pink tongue darts out to swipe across painted lips. Finally, he stands. Pinching the knife between thumb and forefinger, he slips the blade into an inside pocket. Gripping the lapels of his purple jacket, he gives them an exaggerated shake. His movements are erratic and cartoonish and you can’t stop your nervous little backwards half-step.
‘Who the hell are you?’ The question sits poised on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t let it free. Instead, you grit your teeth as the…man saunters over to Ronny and claps a hand on his uninjured shoulder. The movement jars Ronny enough to pull a pained cry from his mouth.
“Little, uh-“ the clown snaps his fingers like he’s trying to remember something, then makes a grabbing motion like he’s pulling the information out of the air, “Ronny here has faith in your skills. Don’t you, Ronny?”
Weak, but hasty, Ronny nods as though he’s trying to placate the other man. In response, the clown spreads his arms, palm up, eyebrows raised as if to say, ‘See? Told ya’ so.’ Voice a deep growl, he sweeps one arm in front of him and says, “The floor is yours.”
None of the men speak up. There’s no protest, not even a scoff. The only sounds are the flickering bulb and Ronny’s haggard gasps.
You don’t glance over your shoulder at Rossi. It is clear to you now that there has been some sort of shift in power and this clown…this man is in now in charge. And questioning orders is definitely not in your job description.
“Well, that’s fuckin’ great,” you sigh. The man chuckles, high and airy. “Get him on the table,” you snap at the two goons hovering nearby. After a second of hesitation, they quickly comply and hoist a blubbering Ronny onto the dirty tabletop until he’s flat on his back, his legs dangling.
Heart rate pulsing in your ears, you whip off your ball cap and toss it away. Hurriedly, you gather your locks into a messy bun before tossing your bag onto the table next to poor Ronny’s shivering form. The zipper is so loud in the tense silence, the rustle of bandages and the clink of instruments a cacophony. Unfortunately, there’s no sink to be found, so you settle for hand sanitizer.
“You’re gonna be okay, Ronny,” you tell the man staring up at you as you snap on a pair of gloves. Fear and pain twist his expression and you can tell he wants to protest, but won’t dare. It makes you wonder what the man in the makeup is capable of to inspire such fear in hardened criminals.
Scissors make short work of the bloodied shirt. With gauze and sterile water, you clean away dried gore so you can properly inspect the wounds. You note one graze along the bicep, a bullet buried in the deltoid, and another lodged just under the clavicle.
“If there’s any nerve or artery or organ or bone damage, I won’t be able to repair it. He needs actual surgery.” You shoot a withering look at the clown who makes a show of sucking in air through his teeth as though he’s concerned. You don’t miss the grin tugging at his scarred lips. “I can get the bullets out and do my best to stop the bleeding. You two,” you nod at the unnamed henchmen, “Will have to hold him.”
Ronny whimpers, the sweat pouring off his brow mirroring your own. You want to complain about just how not sterile this space is, how Ronny is probably going to die of an infection even if you get him stabilized, but you bite your tongue and focus on the task at hand.
You watch the process as though you are suspended just outside your body: Insert IV, start fluid, give what little pain meds you have on hand, sterilize the forceps, clean the injuries, bodily hold down a thrashing, screaming Ronny while you dig out the slugs, slap him awake and tell him to man up, hold pressure, stop the bleeding, suture the wounds closed.
“Keep this,” you shove the bag of normal saline into the hands of Goon Number One, “Above his head.” You turn to a stone-faced Rossi and solemnly tell him, “Doc needs to see him.” You fill a syringe with antibiotics, amazed by how steady your hands are. Ronny barely flinches when you jam the needle in the meat of his hip.
Snapping off your gloves, you release an exhale that trembles on its way out. On autopilot, you turn back to your bag and reach for the blood pressure cuff when, without warning, leather-clad fingers wrap around your wrist. Jolting, you stumble back into the table to put an arm’s length between you and the clown—where the fuck had he come from—but he closes the distance with one, bouncy step.
Just like that, you’re snapped back to reality. Now firmly seated in your body, you are startlingly aware of how hot everything is: The air, your sweaty palms, his chest against yours, his breath on your lips, your blazing cheeks, the stares of the other men burning into the sides of your head.
“Don’t—
“Shhh, shh, shh, c’mere,” the clown murmurs as he grips you by the back of the neck. You stiffen and push back against his hand in a subconscious effort to put distance between you, but fall still when his opposite hand comes to rest on your neck. His expression is unreadable, the look in his eyes a mixture of amusement and something a bit more menacing. You don’t want to search too hard, but fear of what will happen should you look away keeps your gaze on his.
White paint cracks along the creases in his forehead when his brows raise. “You’ve just got a little….” He presses a thumb to the corner of your mouth and drags it upward. You feel the slickness smearing across your dewy skin, too thick to be spit or sweat. Blood, you wager. Judging by the satisfied smile that spreads across his face and the contented hum he emits, you guess there’s a red half-grin now curling away from your mouth.
An imitation of his own.
You barely manage to contain the flinch when the clown raises his hand to your crown. Fingers dip into your hair and feel around for the hair tie keeping it piled atop your head. Three quick tugs sees your locks cascading around your shoulders. Both of his hands then come up to ruffle and shake until it’s all a wild, frizzy mess.
You don’t know whether to be afraid or baffled, and you realize this is entirely the point. Keep others guessing and unable to predict your next move. There’s fear in uncertainty.
The intensity of the moment, the frantic fluttering of your heart, the stifling heat of the room has you seconds away from begging for mercy, something you’ve never done before. Even the slouch of his shoulders—the way he almost curls over you—seems designed to make you panic. You swallow thickly and open your mouth to break the awkward, terrible silence when he interrupts:
“Why don’t you…run along, hm?” He offers you your ball cap and, tentatively, you take it. The clown shuffles back the tiniest inch and you suck in a gasping breath, your heart like some kind of trapped bird ricocheting against your ribs as you hastily whirl around to pack up your instruments. Fuck Ronny’s blood pressure. Doc can handle it. You must get out of here.
You don’t look over your shoulder as you quickly stride from the room, but lilting words reach you in the hallway and stop you dead in your tracks. A chill races up your spine.
“See you soon!”
The clown’s parting sentiment.
You’re up the stairs and out the door before Rossi can catch up. “Who the fuck was that?” you snarl, whipping around so fast your bag smacks against your sweaty back.
“Are you livin’ under a rock?” he shoots back, but any bite there might have been in his words has been shaken from him. He’s pale, you notice, obviously disturbed by what you had to do to Ronny.
“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up in the air. “Yes I am! I keep my head so far down, I’m underground.”
Rossi shakes his head and huffs a humorless laugh. “Turn on the news, then. That oughta answer your questions.”
**
Begrudgingly, you do as you’re told.
It doesn’t take long to put a moniker to the painted face splashed all over your television screen:
The Joker.
Maybe it’s time to pay more attention to current events.
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simplyraeblue · 2 months ago
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hunter and hunted (jjk)
college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader
chapter warning/tags: first date, swearing, oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it y'all), aftercare!!!, longer chapter oops, yuji is sweetie, lil bit of itafushi! A/N: this chapter is MUCH longer than my usual but I love Choso so much and I had so much I wanted to do in one chapter (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡ but I think you Choso girlies will LOVE IT.
index part ten | part twelve
part eleven word count: 5,313
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Choso gave himself a week -  a week filled with contemplation and mulling over the heated conversation he’d overheard between you and Sukuna. he wrestled with his emotions, fully aware that he couldn’t accidentally misdirect his anger towards you. it was tempting to confront Sukuna directly, to unleash his pent-up anger with another punch, but deep down, he knew that wouldn’t be what you needed or wanted.
since your spat in the kitchen with Sukuna, you seemed to have found a new sense of confidence. you were no longer fearful of running into Sukuna at home, your sharp remarks had become frequent again – if only he had the chance to see them.
after you’d knocked him down a peg, Sukuna had retreated into his own world, either locking himself away in his room or disappearing for days on end. you’d noticed the occasional sounds of Sukuna stumbling in, his drunken state letting everyone know he was home as he crashed into walls. but you’d never heard another set of footsteps with his.
guess he really did never call that woman back.
in stark contrast, Choso had become a more constant presence in your life. he would often surprise you with coffee or settle in to watch movies together, something that felt surprisingly comfortable. he had even started to tag along on outings with you and Yuji. Choso’s shift didn’t go unnoticed by Yuji, who seemed all too eager to poke fun.
“so, have you trained your lap dog?” Yuji teased one evening as you both sat over your empty dinner bowls, his grin wide and mischievous.
you rolled your eyes, half-exasperated. “he’s not my lap dog, Yuji. and your constant jokes are only making things more awkward for him.”
“come on, Choso sees right through me. plus, he’s already laid his cards on the table about how he feels, so what’s the harm?” Yuji replied, resting his chin in his hands as he leaned forward.
“how do you feel about it?” you pressed, genuinely curious. Yuji’s approval meant the world to you – if he felt even a hint of discomfort, you’d have to reconsider everything.
Yuji paused, but despite your anxiety, he kept a smile on his face. “honestly? I’m just glad it’s not Sukuna.” he said, a low blow that stung, even if he didn’t realize it. “yeah, he’s my half-brother, but Choso’s a decent guy. after some of the lame dates you’ve had, you deserve something good – even if it’s him.”
you studied his face, seeking further reassurance. “so it doesn’t bother you at all?”
“as long as I don’t walk in on you two fucking on the couch, I’m cool with it.” he said, and you nearly spit out your water in surprise.
“we – I mean, I haven’t even told him how I feel yet!” you sputtered, breathless with embarrassment. “you’re jumping way ahead!”
Yuji burst into laughter, a sound so loud it seemed to shake the walls. “I’m just sayin’, if that’s what you want, then go for it.”
determined to shift the focus back to him, you smirked. “as long as I don’t walk in on you and Megumi fucking on the couch, I’m happy too.”
his laughter cut off abruptly, and you watched as a deep blush spread across Yuji’s cheeks. “you… you know?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“oh, come on. after that weekend at the cabin, it was pretty clear something was going on. you were practically starry-eyed around him.”
“I thought I was hiding it well.” Yuji grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, flustered. “and, you’re okay with it?”
your expression softened, and you leaned across the table to take his hand in yours. “of course I’m okay with it. I’m extremely happy for you.”
if you believed Yuji deserved happiness, then maybe it was time to let yourself embrace the same possibility.
-
so that’s exactly what you did. when you’d returned home that night from dinner, a surge of determination propelled you straight to Choso’s room. with purpose in your steps, you knocked on his door and asked him out on a date, not allowing a single moment for nerves to creep in.
the moment the words left your mouth, a radiant smile spread across Choso’s face, lighting up his features as he eagerly accepted your invitation. 
and now, the anticipated night of the date had finally arrived. despite the fact that you had taken the initiative to ask him out, Choso had gone above and beyond planning every detail of the evening. he wanted to give you a date that was not only fun but also relaxed, easing you into something new. 
as he waited downstairs, Choso’s excitement was palpable, and he was determined to make this the best date ever. the only instruction he’d given you was to dress comfortably, opting for something you could easily move in – a hint that intrigued yet puzzled you.
when you finally arrived at your destination, your confusion turned to astonishment. “rock wall climbing?” you echoed, staring wide-eyed at the towering walls adorned with multi-colored faux rocks. “you’re really making me work for my dinner, huh?” 
Choso laughed softly beside you, his hand resting reassuringly on your back. “it’s a great way to blow off steam and help you get out of your head.” he explained, his tone warm and encouraging.
he gestured toward a nearby bench for you to sit while he stepped away to retrieve climbing shoes from the employee at the front desk. as you watched him walk off, you felt a mix of nervousness and excitement wash over you at the unexpected adventure.
Choso returned, carrying a pair of climbing shoes in his hands. he knelt beside you, taking it upon himself to help you slip them on. “these will give you a better grip.” he explained, his fingers adjusting the straps. the closeness of the moment sent a flutter through you, and you couldn’t help but smile when his hand closed around your ankle to steady your foot.
once you were both geared up, Choso led you to the base of the wall. he pointed out various routes, all marked with different colors. “you can choose any of these.” he encouraged, before pointing to the ones labeled with a white sticker. “these are the easier ones.”
“are you trying to take it easy on me?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
“not at all.” he replied, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I just want you to have fun, and that means finding a challenge that suits you.”
taking a deep breath, you approached the wall, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. there were no harnesses or ropes to hold you up, but you felt the mat underneath your feet to find it was plush and bouncy to prevent fall injury. as you reached for the first hold, Choso stood close by, ready to offer support. “you’ve got this.” he told you, his voice steady and reassuring.
with each move, you felt the initial tension in your body start to fade, replaced by a sense of accomplishment. you focused on the next hold, then the next, and the one after that. as you climbed higher, you could feel Choso’s eyes on you, and it fueled your determination.
Choso couldn’t lie, he was trying so hard to keep himself from staring at your ass in your leggings. he was proud to see you confidently trying something new – and even though he was glad it was him that got you there, he was also glad for the view.
“see, you’re doing amazing!” he encouraged, clapping as you reached a challenging point. 
the exhilaration surged through you as you finally pulled yourself to the top, a rush of triumph flooding over you. you looked down at Choso, who was beaming with pride. “I made it!” you shouted, laughter bubbling up as you took in the view.
“now, just climb back down. if you need to jump you can.” he called back, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
getting down was the hard part – you managed to get halfway back before you couldn’t really figure out which step was next. your body also wouldn’t allow you to jump, even though Choso reassured you that it was safe the primal fear was taking over. 
“I need some help, I really don’t think I have the courage to jump.” you told him, frozen in place as your arms started to wobble slightly. 
“I’ve got you, hold on.” Choso rushed over to place himself beneath you, reaching up to help. 
he’d meant to aim for your hips, but you were just out of reach. holding your feet would do no good, so he did something he had wanted to do anyway. 
you felt his palms on your ass in support, and your face warmed at the contact. 
Choso was trying hard to stay focused on the task at hand. with the plush skin beneath his palms, he was beginning to get flustered, wanting to give the lightest squeeze but holding himself back. “I’ve got you, let’s get you lowered down.” 
once back on solid ground, you both shared an awkward laugh, adrenaline and blush still pumping. “I can see why you picked this.” you said, still catching your breath. “you just wanted to stare at my butt the whole time.”
his face turned a bright crimson. sheepishly, he rubbed a hand over his flushed cheeks, trying to cover his embarrassment. “that was not the point.” he muttered, glancing away with a mix of discomfort and amusement.
“no, it’s okay.” you replied, your tone playful as you nudged his shoulder gently with yours. “I’m just surprised you copped a feel on the first date.”
Choso groaned, his expression shifting to one of exasperation. “you’re making it so much more embarrassing than it needs to be.” he protested, his voice tinged with a laugh despite his attempts to be serious.
you laughed freely, fully aware that you were having fun at his expense, but it was all in good fun. the humor at the moment wrapped around you, and you genuinely weren’t bothered by it. in fact, you considered that any other guy in that situation would have likely taken the opportunity to sneak in a squeeze. and if Choso had done just that? you couldn’t deny that the thought made your heart flutter a little.
the two of you spent another hour climbing, and by the end of it, Choso didn’t stop himself from looking at your ass anymore. 
-
you were exhausted by the end of the night. 
the date had surpassed your expectations. your heart had fluttered incessantly, and your laughter bubbled up so easily. you found yourself blushing more than you ever had on any other date. was this what it felt like to truly enjoy someone’s company? the feeling was intoxicating. 
despite the late hour, sleep eluded you. you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still thrumming loudly in your chest as if you couldn’t settle down. the thought that your date was also your roommate added an exhilarating twist. you could almost imagine him right upstairs.
curiosity nagged at you, and after a moment’s hesitation, your slipped out of your room and padded quietly upstairs. with a soft knock at his door, your pulse quickened in anticipation.
when Choso opened the door, a rush of adrenaline surge through you. “hey.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, a smile creeping onto your face.
“couldn’t fall asleep either?” he asked, his eyes brightening as he stepped aside to let you in his room. the glow of his tv illuminated the room, a paused video game on the screen.
you made your way over to his bed and flopped down, sinking into the comfort of the blankets. Choso joined you, grabbing the controller as he resumed his game. you watched him intently, captivated by the way his fingers moved deftly over the buttons, effortlessly dispatching waves of zombies on the screen.
you wondered how skilled those fingers really were.
part of you knew that you should shake that thought from your head, but it was persistent and took root. you tried telling yourself that the last time you’d found yourself in one of the brother’s rooms, it didn’t end up so well for you.
“want to give it a try?” Choso’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the moment.
“only if you promise not to laugh when I keep losing.” you replied with a playful chuckle, reaching for the controller. “is it really hard?”
“it’s not too tough to pick up, especially in the beginning. the first few levels are pretty easy. I can help you out when things get tricky.” he said, his hands covering yours on the controller. one of his fingers nudged yours towards a button. “this one’s for dodging…”
you focused intently as he continued to explain the controls, demonstrating how each button worked and how to coordinate everything. his hands felt warm over yours, and every time he pressed your fingers down, a delightful spark raced through you, sending a flutter to your heart. the closeness felt electric, heightening your awareness of every little interaction, and you found yourself completely absorbed in both the game and the moment. 
warmth radiated from Choso’s body as he sat close, watching you try (and fail) to get as far as he did in the game. maybe you lacked the skill – or maybe you were distracted. your mind kept homing in on a single train of thought as you tried and tried and tried to get a win; he was right here, within reach, and your body was aching for contact. 
you gently tossed the controller down on the bed with a thud, giving up entirely with a frustrated sigh. “well, I’m accepting my defeat now before I get more embarrassed.” you huffed and blew a strand of hair from your face.
“ah, you’ll get it eventually.” Choso smiled, scooping up the controller, brushing his hand against yours in the process. “we’ll have just to keep practicing.”
“do you really want to suffer through that?” you gave him a teasing smirk – you were sure he’d say no, that he’d kick you out of his bedroom now to avoid the further headache of trying to teach you…
“it’s not suffering if I’m with you.” he almost whispered it. when the softness of his voice graced your ears, a shudder went down your spine. “I can’t imagine ever feeling that emotion when you’re around.”
your face slowly burned at his words. part of you couldn’t imagine he felt that way, and another part wanted to pounce on him from an overflow of cuteness aggression. “I don’t know, I’ve been told I can be pretty insufferable.” you chuckled, but your heart was racing, almost begging him to deny it again.
“whoever told you that is a dumbass.” Choso scoffed, and you were ready to throw back another joke until you could feel him scoot over on the bed – just enough that his shoulder was fully pressed up against yours. “you’re many things… insufferable is not one of them.”
“then what else?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. was it wrong to want to be showered in compliments? especially by someone as caring as Choso? no, no this was a normal human reaction you were experiencing.
and it seemed Choso was reacting as well. you took note of the blush rising onto his cheeks as he pulled his lip between his teeth and averted his gaze. with bated breath, you watched as he opened his mouth to speak. “if I started listing things we’d be here for days.” he answered you, and you damn near melted.
“Choso…”
“I know, that was cheesy.” he let out a light laugh as he shook his head. “but, it’s not a lie.”
“you….” you struggled to find the right words, your brain losing connection to your tongue. “you are… Choso, you are the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”
as Choso’s gaze snapped back to yours, you lifted your hand to rest on his cheek, brushing one of his stray strands from his face. his skin was warm under your touch, and rising in temperature fast the longer you looked at him. 
“I don’t say this often, to anyone –“ you started, “– but you were right. I have been missing what’s right in front of me.”
a low, shaky breath passed Choso’s lips, and you even saw his bottom one wobble slightly. “can I… can I kiss you?” he asked quietly, his voice cracking as he spoke. 
you nodded slowly, feeling as if time had slowed down. his gaze dropped to your lips, and you could see the uncertainty mixed with eagerness in his expression. the moment hung in the air, fragile.
Choso leaned in, his hand moving to gently cradle your cheek. you could feel the warmth radiating from him. as he closed the distance, your heart hammered in your chest, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside you.
his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative, like he was afraid to break the spell of the moment. it sent a shiver down your spine. you instinctively leaned closer, deepening the kiss, and felt him respond with a gentle sigh, his hand sliding to the back of your neck.
the kiss was electric, a beautiful mix of softness and yearning. you lost yourself in the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you as if you were something precious. every brush of his mouth ignited a fire within you, and you felt as if you were floating.
before you could soar into cloud nine, you felt his other hand come down to grip tightly on your hip, and you let out an accidental moan at the gesture. Choso’s mouth swallowed it up, his tongue dipping in to caress yours as your lips parted with the sound. 
his lips moved feverishly against yours as they became needier the longer they were touching yours. you reveled in the feeling of it, every cell of your body buzzing in response. you thought that you had never, ever, been kissed with this much… passion. 
after a few blissful seconds, Choso pulled back slightly, his half-lidded eyes locking with yours. you drew in a deep breath, your cheeks flushed with emotion and desire – desire for him, deeper than you’d ever thought about before.
“that was… wow.” Choso murmured through an intake of breath. his cheeks were red as well, the heat burning inside of him coming to the surface. 
“why’d you stop?” you asked softly – you knew now what you wanted, what you deserved. if Choso wanted to hit pause right now, you’d be okay with it; but if he wanted to take it further, you knew you’d be taken care of.
he chuckled, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “if I didn’t stop then, it would have been harder for me to later.”
“then don’t.”
his eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, but you could tell he was seriously considering it as his chest began to rise and fall at a faster pace. his hand reached for yours, encompassing your fingers in his palms before he titled his head – rather cutely, you thought. 
“are you sure?” you nodded in response, squeezing his hand and giving him a reassuring smile. 
while nerves were shooting through your system, Choso wasn’t scared. he’d be a liar if he said he’d never thought about it – when you’d come out of your room in those too-short pajama shorts in the morning, when you’d lean against him naturally on the couch while watching a movie, he’d thought about kissing you and more for longer than you’d lived in this house. 
his lips crashed into yours again, before he could give himself a moment to hesitate, and you quickly became a tangle of limbs as he pulled you closer into him. you wanted every part of your body pressed into him, to feel his warmth and melt into it like a candle does a flame. 
Choso grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap to straddle him. you could already feel a bulge beneath the plaid pajama pants he wore pressing against you, exciting you even further at the idea of it. with his hands firm on your waist, you rolled your hips into him, eliciting a whiny groan from Choso’s lips. 
you were almost waiting for the pace to change like it had happened the last time, but Choso took his time with you – kissing every inch of exposed skin and not rushing to remove your clothing. it was like he was savoring every bit of you, and you hadn’t even undressed. 
he rolled the two of you over gently, placing you between his body and the mattress as his lips never left yours. between nibbles to your lower lips, his hands began to slowly roam your body, not venturing under the fabric just yet.
“god, I can’t believe I’m here with you.” he whispered between kisses, and your heart practically battered into your ribcage at the sweetness of his words. 
your fingers skimmed the band of his pants in response, a small smile working its way onto your lips. “I can’t believe it either.” you murmured lowly, moving your mouth to kiss and lightly lick his neck and shoulder. 
his hands worked on the buttons of your sleep blouse, so slowly, before pushing the sleeves down your arms and removing it entirely altogether. you heard him suck in a breath, looking down at your breasts underneath him.
“so beautiful.” 
before you could let yourself get sappy and cry tears of relief from his compliment, you put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him in to kiss you again. as his mouth worked against yours, tongues clashing within, you pushed your sleep shorts down, along with your underwear to be more efficient. 
when Choso felt you remove more clothing, he pulled away from you to step off the bed. you laid on your back and watched as he pushed his pants down, boxers and all, and stood at the side of the bed while his eyes raked over your body. 
you felt the urge to cover up, your knees coming together to a close as your arms went to cover your breasts. Choso’s hand reached out to stop you, his head shaking. 
“don’t hide yourself from me.” he whispered as he joined you on the bed again, leaning in to pepper your neck and chest with kisses. you gasped when he took one of your perked nipples into his mouth, nibbling at it gently before sucking the whole thing into his mouth.
he kissed a trail down from your breasts to your thighs, each one leaving you breathless before he reached his goal. you almost exploded when Choso looked up from between your legs right as he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit.
your hand shot into his hair as you let out a moan. “Choso!” you yelped, a bit too loudly, as he began to stuff his face into your pussy. 
he rotated between sucking your clit between his teeth and thrusting his tongue inside of you, tasting every inch of you before pulling away to bite the soft skin of your inner thighs then diving back in.
he was soft, and tender, with every swipe of his tongue, and you were already nearing the edge from the pure intimacy of it all. but before you could take the leap, he pulled away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and coming up to kiss your lips.
“tell me if anything hurts, and I’ll stop immediately.” Choso told you, looking into your eyes as you nodded. “need to hear you say it.”
“I will.” you whispered as you nodded again, leaning in to capture his lips in yours again.
when you felt the tip of his cock brush against your inner thigh, you visibly shuddered with anticipation. he was working his way in, slowly pushing himself in inch by inch, maybe even centimeter by centimeter with how gently he was going. 
with every little bit that passed your entrance, your breath became labored, panting with the stretch of your walls the more he passed the threshold. 
“so pretty f’ me.” Choso ground out, his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes pinched shut. “taking me s’ well.”
“need – hah – need more.” you panted out, and when you finally felt him bottom out and still above you, you locked your legs behind his hips. “I need more of you, Choso.”
“don’t want to – fuck so tight – hurt you.” Choso shuddered as he laid down to prop himself up on his elbows next to your face. you reached up to caress his cheek, reassuring him that everything was alright. when his eyes met yours, and you nodded, he took that as the go-ahead.
when Choso’s hips started to roll into yours, you could’ve sworn the feeling was comparable to the effect of drugs. your mind became a sea of plush clouds, clouding everything in pinky hues behind your closed eyelids. 
with every thrust of his hips, you were losing yourself in the intoxication while Choso continued to praise you like you were his religion. “s’good – hmph – like I should’ve done this long ago.” he murmured before his lips covered your open mouth, darting his tongue inside to taste you as much as possible.
his cock began to thrust into you faster, but still gently, and with every snap of his hips, you felt yourself getting more wet. it made it easier for him to drive into you quicker – and you were drunk off the feeling of his cock prodding at your gspot every time it re-entered.
Choso’s head dipped into your neck, weak from the feeling of your slick walls clamping around him. you felt him kiss your skin, only gently biting down every now and then, as his pace grew quicker and quicker with every passing second.
“mph – god I’m getting close.” Choso whimpered into your skin, his breath hot against it. 
“I – fuck – Choso, I am too. fucking me so good.” you whined as your body began to tense up with your impending orgasm. “gonna make me orgasm on your dick.”
“yes, come with me – hah – please.” 
he brought his face to hover above yours, looking into your eyes as his jaw hung open in pleasure. with a few more well-placed thrusts and praise, you practically skydived off the cliff. your orgasm racked through you at the speed of light, and you covered your mouth as you shouted out his name while the waves crashed into you. stars burst behind your eyes while your body trembled, your walls fluttering around his pulsing cock inside of you.
“fuck – I-I’m gonna – “ Choso couldn’t finish his sentence before you felt him deliver one last powerful thrust, bottoming out as his orgasm rocked through him. you felt a warmth as he painted your walls with ropes of his cum, and at the feeling you felt a smaller orgasm shoot through you again. another one? really?
Choso lazily thrust into you, working you through your second orgasm as he completely emptied himself into you, waiting until you were a panting mess before collapsing on top of you.
“holy… holy shit.” you panted out, your ears still ringing from your second release. Choso lightly kissed your neck, your cheek, and then your lips as he caressed the side of your body with his warm hand. 
“did you have a second orgasm?” he asked softly between sprinkled pecks of his lips. you gulped down a breath as you nodded. “I didn’t… I didn’t know that was possible.”
“I didn’t either.” you responded honestly because you really didn’t. the fact that it had happened still left you shocked, but there was no mistaking that feeling. “I guess you were just that good.”
Choso’s face shot up to look at you, a small tug at the corner of his lips. “oh, teasing already?” he laughed quietly. 
you could only grin at him, your body and mind overwhelmed with the pleasure you’d felt and the emotions now coursing through you. “not necessarily a tease, more of a fact.”
“wanna go again? see if we can make it three?” Choso suggested with a smirk. you couldn’t stop your eyes from going wide, the realization that he wasn’t going to kick you out coming through your clouded mind.
“you mean, you don’t want me to leave now?” you had to ask, had to reassure yourself that you weren’t doing something wrong by staying.
pain, maybe even disappointment flashed across Choso’s face at your question. 
“hell no. if I had it my way, you’d never leave my room.” your heart swelled at his response, and you fought back the tears that wanted to take root in your eyes. “we can play more of my video game if that’s what you want?”
you wouldn’t break down in front of him – not after sex, no way. so, you nodded, not able to respond with words for fear of your voice betraying you. Choso pulled out of you, leaving you feeling empty, before walking over to his hamper and grabbing a washcloth.
you waited in anticipation for him to toss it in your direction, but instead, he padded back over to the bed and cleaned you up himself. his touch was so, so gentle as he wiped down anywhere that needed it, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before helping you sit up and offering you a t-shirt of his.
“you can wear this for now, if you want.” he told you, helping you pull it over your head. “I guarantee it’s more comfortable than what you had on.”
the fabric now on your body smelled like him, and the scent encompassed you in warmth and comfort. “you’re right, I think it’s much better.” you confirmed, smiling at him as your chest ached at the pureness of everything he’d done. 
Choso pulled you back onto his lap once he’s put pants back on, grabbing the controller and placing it in your hands before covering your own with his. he let you lean back against his chest as he took you through the controls all over again, and you couldn’t help but feign forgetfulness, just to feel his fingers intertwining with yours.
the rest of the night flew by as you played the game, experimenting with different modes and laughing nearly the entire time, until the sun peeked through his curtains. you’d spent the entire night wrapped in joy and laughter, and you felt absolutely exhilarated.
as the first rays of sunlight spilled into the room, you turned to glance at Choso. he had that relaxed, sleepy smile that made your heart flutter. “looks like we pulled an all-nighter.” you teased, nudging him playfully.
“totally worth it.” he replied, his voice thick with sleepiness. he stretched, arms reaching overhead, and for a moment, you were mesmerized by how effortlessly handsome he looked, even with a lack of sleep.
“do you think we can get some breakfast before crash?” you asked, feeling a twinge of hunger strike through your stomach.
Choso chuckled, “only if you promise not to fall asleep in your pancake.” he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. as you moved to stand, he placed a hand on your shoulder. “you stay here, I’ll bring them to you.”
as you watched Choso exit his room, you collapsed back on the bed, letting out a contented sigh. 
this was what it was supposed to feel like. 
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlllI @iseeyouuu I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
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~Caught red handed~
[Part two]
Pairing – Theodore Nott x fem!Gryffindor!reader
Summary – y/n acts as cupid for her friend (which means risking her life or worse getting expelled), but what happens when nothing goes according to plan?
Word Count – 3,552
Warnings – (nothing serious) fluff, swearing (if you count idiot), pangs of jealousy, miscommunication
A/N: idk but this part might be a bit confusing cos of the pov shifts (??) but I hope you survive!!
As you stare at Theodore, who’s clearing a doubt of yours, the thought of his girlfriend suddenly hits you. You feel a wave of emotions as your thought process continues: scared, nervous and then strangely, even jealous, as you wonder who his girlfriend could be.
‘Y/n?’ you hear Theo’s voice and snap out of your daydream, realizing you’ve been staring at him. You feel yourself turn red as a cheeky grin appears on Theo’s face. ‘Sorry, I got distracted,’ you lie and promise yourself to pay full attention to your worksheet. ‘It’s ok. What’s on your mind though?’ he asks, resting his head on his palm while looking at you. Facing him has your body temperature rise up and you maintain eye contact.
‘It’s nothing serious, just stray thoughts,’ you say and look to your worksheet. ‘Should we continue?’ you ask, not looking up at Theo, who sits back straight again. ‘I’m bored; let’s take a break,’ he says and you nod, but still don’t look at him. ‘You know, I was thinking we could do this more,’ you hear Theo say and finally look up. ‘You mean study? Don’t you have enough of that already?’ you groan and hear Theo chuckle, making your heart skip a beat. What is wrong with me?
‘No, not study, I mean hang out.’ You frown. ‘Well I don’t know, Nott,’ you shake your head with a shrug. ‘Someone might not like the idea of us “hanging out”.’ You look down at your worksheet. Why did you feel as if a hole opened in your stomach? ‘Oh, the boys wouldn’t mind. They have too much of me anyways,’ Theo smiles as you shake your head. ‘No, not them.’
Theodore frowns. ‘Your friends would mind? I mean, I guess I can swear an oath to them that I won’t do you any harm?’ Theo chuckles but stops when he sees you glaring at him. He wasn’t wrong though; Ginny and Sophie were among other girls that warned you of Theodore Nott. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles and you sigh. ‘Why are you so head set on trying to hang out together anyways?’ you shake your head and look at Theo, a bit suspicious. ‘Just because. I enjoy your company…the boys, they can be a bit depressing sometimes,’ Theodore chuckles. ‘Well, I can’t say I’m any better,’ you shrug but Theo shakes his head. ‘Trust me, you’re a thousand times better; just don’t tell the boys I told you that,’ he winks and you almost feel blood dripping down your nose, as you nod at him.
‘Sure, we can…hang out,’ you mumble, turning back to your seat. You can’t deny that butterflies are dancing around in your stomach and you’re grinning from ear to ear.
…..
Three weeks have passed by since yours and Theo’s study session at the library but you’re already close enough to be called friends. Of course the flocks of fan girls don’t like this news, but you don’t see yourself as a threat; if anything, the girls should be worried about Theo’s girlfriend. Just like you are. 
You admit you’ve started to grow fond of Theo. Maybe something more than fond; something more of a crush. You cringed at yourself when you realized a few days back you started developing feelings for Theodore. You never meant for it to happen, of course, but he had the humor and he made you comfortable around him. He was the only crush you felt like you didn’t have to impress because he was genuinely a good person, who knew your worth. But you can’t help feel greedy, and maybe a bit jealous of his girlfriend.
When you realized you liked Theo, you swore yourself to secrecy not to tell anyone. Even Ginny and Sophie. Especially Ginny and Sophie. They weren’t very delighted either when you started becoming close to Theodore (Sophie wasn’t so against the idea; you being around Theo meant she could see Mattheo more often). So you knew you couldn’t risk it. For now, it was all hush-hush, and you were the only one who knew you liked Theodore. It can be lonely sometimes.
To prevent your feelings from growing, you’ve started to ignore Theo these past few days. (But when did such a technique ever work?) If he asked to meet at the library, you would say you were tired. If he asked to meet at the tower, you lied that you had assignments. You were sure he wasn’t bothered because he always had people around him anyways (not to mention his girlfriend); he probably doesn’t even give you a thought.
But even though you didn’t notice, Theodore starts to get worried. And not to mention, self-conscious. He’s literally wondering day and night if he did or said anything wrong for you to abruptly give him the cold shoulder. He even goes to the great length of asking his friends for advice (who thought this was a good idea?).
‘She’s probably playing games with you,’ Mattheo tells a heartbroken Theodore lying on his bed, looking at the ceiling. ‘Mattheo’s right,’ Draco is heard saying, glancing at his pathetically-in-love friend. ‘She might be playing hard to get. In my experience, I-’
‘What experience do you have?’ Theodore asks and Riddle laughs at the retort, looking at a fuming Malfoy. Just then, the door opens, revealing Blaise Zabini who’s confused as to why the three are staring at him. ‘What?’ Blaise shrugs and walks over to a table. ‘Did I interrupt something? Don’t mind me; I was just here to grab something to eat. You wouldn’t happen to have something, would you?’ Blaise quickly catches an apple slice Mattheo throws at him. ‘Just one slice?’ He asks sarcastically. ‘A simple “Thank you, Mattheo, I love you Mattheo,” would do,’ Mattheo shrugs before eating a slice impaled on a knife.
Blaise rolls his eyes. ‘Nott’s having problems with his love life,’ Draco abruptly says and receives a pillow thrown at his face. ‘Ow!’ he groans and chuckles as Theodore glares at him. Blaise raises an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t it that Gryffindor girl? Didn’t the two of you become friends?’ he asks with a bite of his apple slice and Theo groans out loud. ‘She’s ignoring him and our poor Theodore doesn’t know why,’ Draco shakes his head, laughing.
‘I suggest you apologize,’ Zabini says, much to the surprise of the three boys. ‘Apologize? Why? Did Nott do something wrong?’ Mattheo looks over at Theodore, who stares deep in thought at Zabini, who shrugs. ‘From what I know, if a girl starts ignoring you, gets upset at you or fights with you even though you did nothing wrong, she always expects an apology,’ Blaise says expertly and Draco laughs. ‘Since when did you become a love expert?’
‘Its basic knowledge, Malfoy; something I fear you don’t have,’ Blaise retorts and Draco fumes once again, with Mattheo laughing. ‘You’re right; I must have done something to upset her.’ Theo sits upright, his face lighting up. ‘I know just what to do. You’re a genius, Blaise,’ he gets up with a happy smile on his face, clutching Zabini’s face with both his hands. ‘Kiss me and I swear I’ll cut out your tongue,’ Blaise threatens when an excited and happy Theo gets too close for his liking. Theodore lets go, but still happy and yapping away like a dog. ‘I’ll get her chocolates, tons of them; she’s a sweet tooth. Do you think she’ll like flowers? Should I write her an apology letter? What should I apologize about?’ Theo kept asking, anxious but excited. The boys can only look on as they see the state of ecstasy their friend is in and the three share a knowing look at each other before chuckling to themselves.
…..
You and Sophie are walking back to your dorm after lunch, ready for a nap. ‘I haven’t seen you and Nott hang out together much; something happen?’ Sophie asks as she clings onto your arm, tiredly. You shake your head. ‘No…we’re just…busy, that’s all,’ you lie and Sophie nods, not looking at you.
‘How’s Mattheo?’ you ask Sophie, who sighs dreamily as she starts walking straight and lets go of your arm. ‘He’s good.’ Mattheo rejected Sophie proposal but agreed to go out with her once, since she’d already made a reservation at a nice restaurant. ‘We’re taking things slow,’ Sophie says, but her eyes look sad. ‘I promised I wouldn’t cry, you know. If Mattheo rejected me, I mean,’ she shrugs. ‘But I can’t help it.’ You hear a sniffle and pat your friend on her shoulder. ‘It’s ok; you’ll find someone who sees how much you’re worth,’ you try your best to comfort and Sophie just nods, her head hanging low.
‘Anyways,’ she says, looking up straight. ‘I don’t want to talk about it; it’s too depr-’ Sophie pauses mid way, and you follow her eyes to see someone familiar in front of you. No matter how much you try to avoid him, your heart still skips a beat when the two of you meet; your stomach is filled with bats and butterflies whenever you’re caught up in those green eyes. And then there’s always that feeling of nervousness, excitement and ecstasy all wrapped in one enveloping you like a blanket. And those sweaty palms, throat running dry, words not coming out of your vocal chords and just staring at each other.
This goes on forever between the two of you, until Sophie interrupts. ‘I’ll leave the two of you alone,’ she says and slowly walks past Nott, heading for the dorm room. Unbeknownst to you, she gives an encouraging smile to Nott, even risking a small thumbs-up. Theodore notices and smiles softly.
It’s only then that you notice the things in his hands. He has a small but pretty bouquet of flowers on one arm and a small box which, according to your knowledge, is from the best chocolate company and, coincidentally, your favorite. ‘Before you say you’re busy again,’ Theo sighs as he looks at you, desperate. ‘I want to talk. Just for a while; I swear I won’t take much of your time.’
You frown lightly. ‘Theo, you-’ You’re about to blurt out that he can take as much as time as he wants; you wouldn’t care, but you stop yourself before sounding like a creep. ‘Sure. I’m free anyways,’ you say as Theo smiles and you glance at the bouquet and chocolates again. You get a sinking feeling as you realize he could have got that for his girlfriend. Your heart is secretly crying inside, but you manage to stay calm outside.
‘What’s bothering you?’ You ask to start the conversation. ‘Before I start-which, I have a long speech to make; be warned-’ Theo chuckles awkwardly. ‘I wanted to give you this.’ He hands you the bouquet and the box of chocolate. You can only gasp softly as your hands reach out to accept those pretty, precious little gifts you know you’ll cherish. ‘F-for me?’ you stutter as you gaze down at the bouquet. How has a bouquet never looked so prettier? You look up at Theo, who nods. He smiles back at you, content as he sees the huge stupid grin on your face. ‘It was always for you, y/n, everything I did,’ Theo says, much to your surprise and shock.
‘Now, for the speech.’ Theo clears his throat and looks down at a paper he holds in his hands. He glances back at you and then at the paper. He smiles and then slowly, crushes the paper and throws it away. ‘I don’t need a paper to begin, y/n,’ he shrugs, with a soft smile. ‘I figured I want to tell you what’s truly in my heart, and that I don’t need a paper to read from to remember those feelings.’
You swallow as you hear his words, excited but nervous. ‘Y/n, the day I asked you to be my friend was the second best day in my life. You’re amazing, genuine, beautiful on the inside and out and you’re worth so much more than I deserve but I don’t want to lose you, y/n,’ Theo’s voice cracks softly and he comes closer to you. ‘If the purpose of my life means to make you happy, I’d get up every day just to do that; Godric, I’d spend the entire night trying to think of ways to make you happy.’ Theo’s lips twist into a sad smile.
‘I would be lying if I said I don’t think of you day and night, that the thought of you doesn’t make me smile. I can’t get my mind off of you, y/n, and I know that isn’t the way you can tell I’m in love-’ Theo pauses and looks you in the eye. ‘-because it isn’t; it’s not because of the fact that I think about you every day that I amin love with you, no. I mean, I think of my assignments all the time,’ Theo gives a nervous chuckle and earns one from you too.
‘It’s because of the scary fact that you could do anything to me, treat me in any way you’d want, good or bad, and I’d still get butterflies dancing in my stomach when our eyes meet. The fact that you could reject me, leave me for good or never talk to me and walk away but I’d still care about you; my mind would still wander to you and my heart would still yearn for you, because you mean the world to me, y/n; the entire universe. I don’t know if you understand how much power you hold over me, if you’ll ever know how much you mean to me. You might have flaws, y/n, but those flaws are what make you perfect, what makes you beautiful to me. And don’t even get me started on your strengths,’ Theo chuckles softly, and you see a ray of sunlight has fallen on the side of his face. You smile back at him.
‘Y-You’re always there to pick me up when I fall and make me smile, y/n, and you do it so perfectly like no one has been able to before. And you make me want to be a better version of myself, trying to be the best I can be. Just so I can be enough to deserve you.’
Your breath is slowly but surely leaving your body as Theo now towers over you. Your grip on the bouquet tightens and you swallow a little as you look ever so gently into those pools of green. ‘Theo…wh-what are you saying?’ you ask, not wanting to believe this is actually happening. From your experience, good things never happened to you, and if they did, they never lasted so long.
‘What I’m saying, y/n,’ Theo gives a sigh as he looks back at you with a soft gaze. ‘Is that I’ve started to realize, I…I really, really, really, really-’ he smiles and you give a soft smile in return. ‘-really like you.’ You can feel the tears pricking your eyes, but you hold back and instead give a coy smile. ‘So you don’t love me?’ you tease and Theo smiles. ‘I do, y/n, very, very much. But I’m afraid just those three words and eight letters are too small to fit in all my love for you because-’ his voice cracks, his eye falter and he swallows as he pauses, catching his breath. ‘Because…I love you,’ Theo whispers those three words so delicately like he’s holding a new born infant. Your heart has skipped so many beats you’re surprise that you’re still alive.
‘Theo…’ you tilt your head, the tears finally rolling down your cheek. To your surprise, Theodore reaches out for the stray tear and wipes it away. ‘I-I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean for you to cry,’ he says with a frown, concern written all over his face. ‘I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I thought it best to let you know once and for all. And that ever since we stopped hanging out, I haven’t been myself, y/n. I figured I must have done something to make you upset or feel angry, so I want to apologize.’
You look at Theo, a small smile on your face. ‘Theo…you didn’t do anything wrong. I was only…ignoring you because…well,’ you look up at an anticipating Theo, embarrassed. ‘I thought you had a girlfriend.’ Theodore’s face turns into one of shock and he looks like he’s been shot. ‘A g-girlfriend?’ he stutters and you nod slowly, looking down at the flowers. ‘I thought your girlfriend wouldn’t want us to hang out and stuff, so I started to distance myself from you,’ you say, before you remember the real reason why you’ve been ignoring him.
‘Actually,’ you start, standing straight and looking Theo in the eye, trying to gain some confidence for what you’re about to say. ‘I’m tired of lying to myself, to you and to everyone else. The truth is, Theo, I’ve been ignoring you because…I like you,’ you say and see Theo’s face turn red and he suddenly freezes. ‘I mean, I did think you had a girlfriend, but that isn’t the real reason why I avoided you. I was scared that a person like you wouldn’t like a person like me, and I thought avoiding you would make my feelings go away. But things like that never work out, do they?’ you smile softly at Theo, who’s adoringly staring at you with the prettiest eyes and the most loving smile.
‘I feel comfortable to be me around you, Theo. I have this feeling that you understand me like no one else, that you’re able to figure out things I can’t do myself. And even if you don’t know the answer to any of my problems, you’re willing to do anything to help me. I realized I was always that person: sacrificing myself for others. But I met you, and when I saw there was atleast someone who cared for me, I realized-’ you swallow, hard. ‘-I don’t want to lose you too.’ You rest your head on Theo’s shoulder, the two of you close enough to hear each other’s breaths in the silent hallway. You can hear Theo’s fast heartbeats and with your eyes closed, you find yourself smiling.
‘Does that mean-’
‘I love you.’ You gaze up at Theo, who still manages to be choked up by those small words. ‘And I’ll say it a thousand times more. I’ll shout it from the towers and whisper it into the pillows when I sleep at night, I’ll think of you when I eat, sleep and breath. All just for you, Theodore.’ You finish with a smile and suddenly let out a small yelp as Theo hugs you.
‘And I love you too, y/n,’ Theo whispers into your ear as he’s hugging you, taking in your scent that he’s missed so much. ‘I swear I’m going to spoil you rotten, and treat you the way you deserve to be treated.’ Theo smiles and you look at him with blurry eyes. ‘You’re so sensitive, aren’t you?’ Theo asks and you pout as you let go of him. ‘And a bit hot headed,’ he chuckles, before groaning hard as your fist lands on his arms. You didn’t mean to hurt him; you were only playing. But his groans make you rethink if you’re stronger than you think.
‘Theo!’ you say as he bends away, a look of pain on his face. ‘Quick, I think I’m bruised. Maybe a kiss will cure me,’ Theo says and his pained face suddenly turns into a sly one, a smirk playing on his lips. You glare at him and hit him again, with no regret. Theo chuckles and his arms wrap around your waist, while his eyes are gazing into yours. ‘You said meeting me was the second best day in your life. What’s the first?’ you ask Theo, who smiles dearly.
‘Today. The day I found out the girl I like, likes me back. No, scratch that. The girl I love, loves me back,’ Theo says and you smile affectionately. ‘I want to take you out on proper dates. I’m serious about this, y/n. I don’t want this to be a onetime thing; I’m ready for something serious.’ Theo catches your eye, a solemn look in his face.
‘Aren’t you too young to have already found your life partner? Are you so sure?’ you joke but Theo rolls his eyes, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. ‘I’m sure. Very sure,’ Theo says and as your laugh is dying down, Theo glances at your eyes again, and the atmosphere turns serene as he leans down, your face in his hands, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips. A deep and genuine kiss, which sends pigs running wild in your stomach. You swallow as he pulls away and envelops you into a hug. You take in all his scent that you first smelt the first time you met him.
‘That’s how sure I am,’ Theo whispers and you close your eyes with a smile, knowing you have everything you’ve ever wanted in this world.
A/N: I hope y’all liked reading this. I put in all my blood, sweat and tears for this (figuratively) :) I’m coming up with a lot of inspo, but who knows when I’ll write another one? Haha. Anyways, byee, love you lotsss!!  <3
@helendeath
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sleepymarimo · 1 year ago
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𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤
summary: he didn't know that being yours could be so painful pairing: sanji x gn!reader cw: pining (but is it mutual??) takes place during wci, so spoiler warning! an: honestly? just sad. i may have shed a tear while writing?? idk, y'all know my style 😭 this am event got me all emotional. not a lot of dialogue, mostly descriptions of feelings and all that, so wc: 650 ⤷ based on this song! ⤷ part of this arctic monkeys mini event!
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he swears it's one of the hardest things he's ever had to do.
but it was for the crew, right? it was for you?
even so, it didn't make it any easier. no amount of justification could make him feel confident in his choice. it was his unfortunate fate.
your eyes, irises that once looked towards him with joy and a glimmer of adoration, were now filled with fear and betrayal.
nami's wrath seemed like a blessing compared to what you had to offer him. 
he wanted you to slap him. scream at him. at least then, he'd feel your touch. he just wants anything other than that cold, distant gaze that made him feel like a stranger.
you cradled luffy in your arms, using yourself as a shield to protect him from further harm. the blond's heart crumbles in his chest. were you afraid of him? did you finally see him for the monster he was? it feels like his insides are getting carved out, like hot lava was bubbling in his throat and burning his lungs.
sanji wishes he can explain. he wants to tell you that it'll be okay and that this is for you. 
he'd kiss the ground you walked on, everyday for the rest of his life, if it meant that you would give him a chance to be loved by you. to be used by you.
he wants nothing more than to kneel on the dirt and beg for forgiveness. he'd let you push him to the ground with the heel of your shoes until his bloodied knees hit the bedrock of the earth. anything and everything you'd ask of him, he'd do.
because all he's ever wanted was to be yours.
pudding was a treat in her own right, sure, but you were something else entirely.
your laugh was like honey, sickeningly sweet and capturing him in a sticky web of infatuation. your voice was a liquor so strong that he'd find himself tipsy after a simple hello. your touches made him feel as if he was having his first meal in decades. as much as he wants to savor each and every flavor you offer, another part of him wants to swallow you whole.
actually? he wants you to be the one to consume him. the blond wouldn't mind being chewed up by you, reduced to pieces. the thought of being surrounded by you in your entirety is rather appealing.
he has to walk away, not being able to bear it. he has to hide it, has to push it away because, like everything else he did, this was for you.
the reluctance in his steps is masked by feigned apathy, the finality of his steps contrasting with his trembling fists. his nails dig into his soft hands, knuckles white.
then he hears it.
the sound that makes his steps falter, just ever so slightly.
a choked out sob of his name, spilling from those pretty lips of yours that he just wants to capture in his own. it's so pathetic sounding, so lowly of you to beg for a failure like him. "sanji!" you cry, each sniffle and ragged exhale ripping his heart to pieces. "please! don't go!"
even after all that he's done, you're still pleading for him?
he feels nauseous, forcing himself to continue walking towards the carriage that would carry him to his doom.
i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry. it plays on and on, repeating in his head like a broken record. a part of him hopes it'll drown out the sound of your cries.
in the carriage, while his brothers are mocking the desperate show you put on, sanji rakes his hands through his blond hair. he finds little comfort in how his fingers brush through his scalp. his body trembles and he breaks, tears spilling from his eyes.
was it always this hard, being yours?
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taglist: @dimplewonie
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neysaadept · 19 days ago
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Prometheus Chapter 6
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Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader
Chapter 6 - Restart
Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 3.9k
AO3
Chapter 5
You walk into Quantico with a new sense of purpose after having drinks with Prentiss last night. The barrier that the section chief had built up with assumptions and unknowns had been removed and replaced with cautious optimism. That you can work with – a mutual understanding that you’re both on the same side, you meant no harm and were not a threat to the BAU. As it was a workday, you only shared another drink together but the two of you nursed them slowly.
As you still couldn’t say much about your past, you did elaborate on the high-speed pursuit that Tara hinted at.
“Yeah, so it all worked out. Dumb ass fell right into the spike strips. Took care of that quick once I got ‘em there,” you explain before taking another swallow of beer.
“They never learn.” Prentiss smiles and takes a sip as well. “But keeping pace with them was something else. No wonder they panicked.”
You smile. “Yep! Intel was good that they weren’t carrying much. They fired off a few rounds here and there to scare us off. Try and get me to fall back. They just never got the memo that the CIA Surveillance and Pursuit class was renamed cuz of me.” You raise your beer and wink at Prentiss. “Now affectionately known as the Maniac Chase Class.”
“Oh my god! That was you?” She laughs, shaking her head in amazement.
“Yeah. I gotta wee bit carried away on my third try.” You shrug coyly. “Really wanted to beat that record.”
“You demolished it.” She smirks. “And the car.”
“Which slid across the line for a new record,” you explain with pride and then pause for dramatic effect, holding your arms out, beer still in hand, “And … I walked away without a single injury.”
“See, that part I thought was all hype,” Emily admits and looks inquisitive.
“No, sadly. It helped I was young and dumb when I did it.” You say with introspective embarrassment. “I was so fucking stupid.”
She snorts with agreement while doing mental math. “Wait, how old were you when he recruited you?”
“Young,” you vaguely admit.
“But you joined before me,” she says, knowing you were aware of her records and nod that she was correct. “I joined late ’97 and everyone just naturally talked about the course like that.” You heard the implication. She meant that the nickname wasn’t a new idea and was trying to figure out how much longer you have been in the CIA before she joined.
You clear your throat in caution. “Leave it alone, Prentiss. I … I honestly can’t say anything more.” You grimace, knowing you already said too much.
Emily didn’t press for further information, but you knew she gleaned enough to make educated assumptions. You felt like a fool, letting your guard down like that, but the conversation flowed easily between the two of you. It felt … nice, being able to connect with someone new. That hadn’t happened since Rebecca.
You’ll need to keep your guard up since Prentiss reaffirmed that you would be a proper member of the BAU starting today. They would want to get to know you, and you them. You just have to remember to tone it down and not get carried away with enthusiasm. Keep Brian’s wisdom close to your heart that this is new to you and ground yourself. Don’t get swept away with emotions, like last night.
It was a late start at Quantico for you since you had to start at Langley. The stipend funds had been approved and your signature was needed on a lot of paperwork. Finance assured you that the money would be deposited into the BAU budget by the end of day. Prentiss would be able give Bailey the proverbial finger on Monday when she distributed the funds, pushing the unit into the green, leaving the penny pincher helpless with his mission to disband the BAU that way.
Prentiss had texted you that the team would be ready for you in the conference room discussing their current caseloads and leads and would wait for you, providing you that proper do over with them. You appreciated that and said as such in reply.
As you head off the elevator to the sixth floor, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and belonging. You even put a little more effort into your outfit, choosing a charcoal grey pants suit with a black sleeveless semi-spread polo collar, and comfy black work shoes with decent tread. You had your backpack on, holding the straps over your chest as you survey the area.
True to her word, the team was already in the conference room. Garcia happens to see you first and smiles big, giving you a quick, animated wave that caught Prentiss’ attention. She was standing and angles her body to the left to see who was there and visibly relaxes noticing it was you. The team follows her gaze as Prentiss gestures for you to join them.
JJ looks from Prentiss to Rossi, who was suspiciously smirking up at Emily. “And why are you smiley this morning?”
“Hm?” he looks over at her as Prentiss’ attention turns towards the exchange. “Oh, just delighted Whitlock can join us. Orientation’s a pain in the ass.”
He was equally relieved and surprised that Emily spoke to you as quickly as she did. Because of that, he wouldn’t press the orientation fib being told to the team.
“Man, I wish I had the short version like she did when I joined,” Luke grumbles playfully.
“Yeah, but you needed a lot of work honey, and honestly … still do, unlike our CIA cutie,” Garcia chides as you walk in.
“That my new rank?” you say with twinkling eyes and a brow raising to the group. “CIA cutie?”
The members collectively chuckle and laugh at the joke and as you look at Prentiss, she was fighting to keep her lips from curling upwards.
“No. Still a consultant.” Prentiss admits. She gestures to an empty seat between Tara and Garcia. “Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”
You nod and slip past Prentiss, sliding the backpack off your shoulders. You place it on the ground behind your chair and sit down. As you look at the BAU members starting back at you, you feel daunted. But you got this and look eagerly at Prentiss to kick this off.
“I know things have been hectic this week with all the changes and assignments and getting Whitlock up to speed on FBI protocols. She still has a few more items to go over, but I’m pulling her in since we can use all the help we can get,” Prentiss explains. “Garcia, mind getting Whitlock up to speed where we’re at?
Garcia immediately speaks up, almost bouncing on the seat at the chance. “You got it, Ma’am.”
Emily winces and presses her hand down towards Garcia. “What have I said about that?”
She smiles. “Not to call you Ma’am.”
“Please remember that.”
“You got it, Boss Ma’am.” Garcia says cheekily.
Emily sits down in a huff, and you have to cover your mouth to hide the smile on your face. The team did not hide their amusement at the banter.
“Anyway,” Garcia says and laces her fingers together before turning her hands inside out to crack them, “time for catch up!”
Her fingers dance across the keyboard and immediately your eyes go to screen depicting a U.S. map with sixteen dots. Each dot had a line that led to a description of the kill kit number, contents and the city and state of its location. Two of the dots are red, the others blue.
“We have recovered fourteen of the sixteen kill kits, no thanks to our firebug in holding right now. The two missing are from Indio, CA and Rockville, MD and your technological goddess is monitoring anything in the surrounding areas that sounds Sicariusy like.”
“How wide’s the radius?” you ask.
“Fifty,” she answers while you nod. “So far nothing’s pinged that shouts out, ‘I’m a Sicarius henchmen’. However, Mr. Dishonorably Discharged had a test kit that was really oooooold based on soil samples.”
“Five years isn’t that old,” JJ says.
“But the kits being activated by Sicarius, it is,” explains Rossi. “All the lockers we’ve found have new tech, supplies, chemicals …”
“Lab did confirm the soil samples from our kits are newer. So why give Green something older?” Prentiss asks the team.
“Maybe this one fit Green’s M.O. better?” Luke offers.
“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” says Rossi.
“What are you thinking, Dave?” urges Prentiss.
“That Green was set up?” you offer, looking between Prentiss and Rossi.
He half smiles, impressed, and points to you casually. “Kid’s good. That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Maybe he was testing Green to see what he’d do. Confirm if he was truly loyal or not.”
“And either way, Sicarius would get what he wanted. A big explosion or expose Green for who he really is,” JJ says emphatically. “
“All right.” Prentiss takes a moment to digest this and addresses everyone. “Give me some options.”
Luke leans back and gestures to Garcia. “Green was the last to see his sister. So, we’re thinking a cognitive interview might help him remember any details of that night. Anything that could help him ID the guy that took her.”
“Good luck trying to get him to agree to it,” states Tara. “He has big problems with authority figures. He won’t cooperate unless he has good reason.”
“How’s not finding his sister’s killer a good reason?” you ask.
“Oh, he’s really pissed off.” Prentiss says as you raise a brow. “We took away his chance at catching Sicarius and enacting his revenge.”
“And he really doesn’t like that I’m a Fed again.” Garcia pouts with that admission. “He sent me all that info thinking I was still distanced from all of this.” She gestures wildly at the room.
Prentiss looks sympathetic. “But we have to try. Luke, I need you to talk to Green and get him to agree to the cognitive interview. JJ, keep watch on the exchange.” They both nod and she addresses Garcia. “Keep working on any leads that might help us find those missing kill kits. Whitlock, you’ll assist.”
You visibly perk up at the sound of your name and look thankful for a hands-on opportunity. Inwardly, you were doing backflips. Prentiss could feel you buzzing with internal excitement and chuckles. “Not like you can catch up on any paperwork you don’t have yet.”
Rossi and Tara groan while Luke and JJ share a smirk.
“Oh, don’t even,” admonishes Prentiss. “You both get to play catch up in between interviewing Green until a case comes in.”
Luke is silent, lowering his head in defeat as JJ frowns while pouting. “Aww.”
Now that the team had their assignments, Garcia was utterly giddy and squeals towards you. “Come Robin! To the Batcave!”
Garcia catches you up on everything over the next few hours. From the hidden message apps on the unsubs phones, to the discussion forums, and how Sicarius used this to gain followers so he could teach them the ways of being sadistic killers. She had identified the usernames of the unsubs and was able to find that they all chatted with Sicarius - User45125. They also learned about the different murder methods that matched up with the bodies found in the shipping container. Out of the lockers that are missing, the BAU believes that kits would contain methods to kill by acid and strangulation to match the last of the victims.
“I can’t trace any direct messaging, so that’s why all of this is based on the forum info me and JJ combed through,” Garcia says, ending her lengthy summation.
“What a sick fuck.” You shake your head in disgust. “Play with the first round of victims and pass all that fun on to his new friends who do it all over again.”
You were sitting to the left of Garcia, lightly turning the chair back and forth with a foot on the floor. To your delight, it didn’t bother her. It was a habit you developed over time to help you think. You look over the conversations that Sicarius had with the unsubs and Green. He definitely narrowed down the chosen ones based on their psychopathic thrills.
“How many are on this message board again?” you ask, gesturing at the screens.
“Over half a million. Which just…bleh!” Garcia pauses, shivering for dramatic effect, “Makes me feel all squicky that there are that many of them chatting in one spot. But I narrowed down the really, really, bad naughties to seventeen k.”
“Damn. Fucker’s been busy.” You go silent as you calculate options with the information the BAU had.
Garcia glances at you, seeing your eyes darting back and forth in concentration. “What’cha thinking there?”
“I’m not sure. It’s just … “ you pause, words softening, “a half formed thought. A possibility.” You turn towards Garcia. “Can you narrow the users further by who hasn’t been active in a few months? At least since Green last contacted Sicarius? Bonus if longer.”
She blinks rapidly at you and looks put out. “Can I?!” She then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Since you’re new, I will let that slight pass, but there is nothing I can’t do, missy.”
Except get your file, but you don’t need to know that!
“Apologies, M’Lady!” You smile, making sure to file that away to not offend the bubbly woman in the future. “If you would be so kind and continue working your magic?”
“And the lady shall be kind!” Garcia says with vigor and starts narrowing down the possibilities further.
The two of you work diligently over the next few hours. You guide Garcia with different traits to knock down the users into something manageable with the information that can be extracted from text. Emoji use, shorten expressions, length of posts, seeking knowledge and showboating instead of trying to engage in an emotional connection, aggressive language use, and interests.
“Here you go.” Garcia calls up a list of usernames that fit your specifications. “One-hundred and thirty-four.”
“Have any of those spoke to our guy at length? Something substantial?”
“Hm, yes!” She pulls those up.
That got you down to thirty-eight. “And how many of those appear to have contacted him through direct messaging?” You couldn’t know for sure but based on the flow of conversation and quality, there were hints.
She types quickly. “Ah, fourteen.” She shows you the names.
“List them by last known contact with him – earliest to latest.”
“Done.”
“Now pull up last few messages from each.”
“Also done.”
You read through them, ignoring the majority as you skim but there were a few that stood out.
Dark_Muse: Fucking cunt is finally gonna pay!!! Girls night is gonna end on a high!!!
_piouspisces: Woke up from a dream today. Hope it comes true. Just have to set up the right ingredients. Need advice on lacing paper. I have some ideas but need confirmation.
FlamePit23: The world only makes sense at sunrise and sunset. It’s when it looks like the world is set on fire. Beautiful.
You point to that last username. “Show me this one’s profile.”
Garcia clicks on it and reads. “’Nothing burns as bright as the rage inside you. Cultivate and embrace it. Keep it under your control’. Oh, they go on to say to never make any friends. That’s cheerful and lonely.”
“But they admitted to ‘nurturing others so I can take them off guard. Like my mother did to me when I was younger’ makes me think this one’s female,” you say while tapping the screen. “What’s the date and timestamp on the last message?”
“That would be … August 12, 2022 0550.”
You would bet that it was close to sunrise on that day when the user posted.
You pull your hand back to cup your chin in thought as Garcia looks oddly at you. “You know, I’ve been doing this a really, really long time, and I can usually predict where people are going with their data mining. But you? I have zilch of an idea because this makes no sense to me.”
You heard she was talking, but you weren’t listening. You were too focused on formulating a plan.
She puckers her lips in annoyance at being ignored and snaps her fingers twice in front of your face. “Hello?”
“Oh!” you say, jerking back into awareness. “I’m trying to come up with a crazy plan.”
“Please tell me this won’t result in you going AWOL again …” Prentiss had entered and neither of them had heard the door open.
You and Garcia share a look wondering if she even knocked as Prentiss walks in further expectantly. “Well?”
You sit back and reassure her. “Ah, no. Course not.”
“Wait. So, you really went AWOL?” Garcia asks curiously. “Did you serve before the CIA?”
“I didn’t serve.” You bit your lower lip and nod, coming to terms with what you can say. “I did some training with military personnel. All informal.”
You and the other four recruits had gone through training with the Green Berets, Navy Seals, and Delta Force. Something you couldn’t disclose as it technically never happened, hence, the informal part of your cover. You also are glad Garcia was distracted by that and didn’t ask you to elaborate on the AWOL matter.
Garcia whistles. “Wowzer.”
That made you smile. “A very simple, yet precise, way to put it.”
“A talent of hers for sure. But let’s get back to this crazy plan of yours,” insists Prentiss as she leans against the desk on the other side of Garcia.
“Again, it’s just the start of one but it could be a way to infiltrate Sicarius’ chosen ones without the need for vengeance to fuck things up.”
“You really say that word a lot,” notices Garcia.
“What?”
Garcia struggles by opening and closing her mouth like a fish to try and get the word out, but Prentiss beats her to it. “Fuck.”
“Huh?” You look at the section chief with confusion. “No thank you?”
“That’s… that’s not what I meant!” She answers, speaking quickly as you fluster her with the insinuation, and you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer.
“What’s so funny?” she snaps.
“You!” you answer between cackles. “I knew what you meant.”
Garcia at least has the decency to look away while trying to fight off her own snickers as Prentiss takes a hand to her head to rub at her temples. “I swear to god, Whitlock …”
“Anyway …” you grin. “The idea is to chat him up with a username that is not entirely inactive but hasn’t been used in a bit. Think we found a prospect.”
Prentiss’ irritation with you changes to interest. “That so?”
Garcia nods. “Now that I know what the plan is, yes. I can do a deeper dive into this user and see what I can dig up.”
“Less is more, in this case,” you explain thoughtfully. “If we infiltrate this way, we gotta have enough info to be this user without him really knowing who this is. So, if you can find who they are, then we’re back to finding another. Because that means he would know their identity, too.”
Prentiss nods. “Do it. Green isn’t cooperating at all like Tara figured. He wouldn’t agree to the cognitive interview. Might as well see how this pans out while JJ tries to change Green’s mind.”
“On it, Boss Ma’am!” Garcia jests as she gets to work.
Prentiss looks up at the ceiling as if searching for patience, but as brown eyes come down, they focus on you. “Come with me and bring your stuff.”
“Sure thing.” You rise, grabbing your backpack but before you follow Prentiss, you squeeze Garcia’s shoulder. “This was nice. Working with you, that is.”
She tears her eyes away from the screen to look up at your soulful eyes. You really appreciated how Garcia jumped into working with you with fervor and not giving you the cold shoulder from earlier this week. “Aww, sweetie! Yes, we’ll keep working at it to make this idea blossom into a full blown plan!”
You smile so hard your cheeks hurt and stay that way until Garcia gets back to work. You then meet up with Prentiss to walk out together.
“Good first day.” It was an observation by the section chief.
“Yeah, it really was.” You were smiling again. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Her tone carries a mystique to it, and you become captivated while walking to the bullpen together. “But I owe you a proper thank you. Langley sent me the confirmation of funds.”
“I’ll behave.” Prentiss’ eyes widen when you say that. “I won’t start making it rain money at you in celebration.”
She chuckles. “So, you can control it?”
“Occasionally.”
“Good. Then I’ve no regrets in getting you something.”
That made you perk up. “You got me something?”
“Bit overdue, but …” Prentiss stops without warning at the first desk to the right when you enter the bullpen. “… it’s yours.”
You are befuddled as you shift your gaze from Prentiss to the desk and audibly gasp. Resting on top of it was your name on display as a consultant. “Wow.”
Pleased with your reaction, she nudges you with her elbow. “This is when you’re supposed to thank me.”
“Ah, right!” you laugh, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck before looking to her with a radiant smile. “Thank you, Prentiss.”
Your response without jest disarms her like it did last night over drinks. Your gazes lock for several beats and you just stand there with sincere gratitude that she welcomed you as a member of the team.
She recovers quickly with a stiff nod and motions to your desk. “You’re welcome. When you’re done getting settled, get back to working on that angle with Garcia.”
“You got it.” You immediately round the desk, already slipping off your backpack to place on top of it as Prentiss heads to her office.
That felt really nice to say in your head. Your desk. When was the last time you had a desk with a name plate? Everything you did was covert up until now so flashing your name and credentials was the equivalent to placing a target on your back with a bright flashing sign that says, ‘Shoot me!’. The right people knew your name when on mission, but most of your identity was done under aliases and callsigns.
You take a quick inventory of what’s on the desk – laptop connected to dual monitors, keyboard and mouse, stacked plastic organizers, phone, stapler, black plastic pen holder that was empty.
Guess I’ll have to find supplies…
You pick up the stapler and click it, watching a used staple hit the desk. At least that was ready to go for all the paperwork you’ll be doing now. The team will be excited to hear that! You then pull out the chair to get acquainted with the drawers only to be shocked for the second time today.
Waiting for you on the chair was a six pack of Diet Coke bottles with a blue sticky note attached. You peel it off to read and immediately smile.
Welcome to the BAU, Whitlock.
EP
Chapter 7
@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven
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lilacskyly · 11 months ago
Text
My Life For Yours (Satoru Gojo x Reader Soulmate AU)
This is just the first part, planning on doing a part 2 and maybe 3.
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Satoru Gojo didn't believe you two were fated to be soulmates. Hell, he refused to believe it. How could he not? You were one of his fellow students in Jujutsu High, introduced to him by your friend Suguru Geto. You were considered a special grade sorcerer, but how was that when you were so weak? You couldn't fight, you could only support others, taking the blows for them with your cursed technique. With each blow thrown an ally's way, you used your technique to save them. The blow would always get blasted back to the enemy, but why would you harm yourself for that? Why go out of your way to protect someone you barely knew? He just couldn't wrap his head around it.
Maybe that's why he still can't wrap his head around what you did.
You found out he was going to fight Toji. You insisted you come along, he of course refused. You were too weak to help anyways. But you were a persistent one. You somehow convinced him to let you tag along as long as you didn't “get in the way”.
He wishes he didn't say that nor that he let you come along.
You hid while he and Toji were fighting, you didn't even let him know where you were. Maybe you were just waiting for that moment, the moment that was meant to kill him. 
Toji would've killed him if not for you using your technique on him in a split second. The blow that was meant for him engulfed you, he swears you died on the spot then. But as you fell down, never to get up again, you smiled at him. Your voice rang through his head then. “Now, win this.” You died that day, Gods he wishes he didn't let you go. But with your death, his cursed energy soared. He easily defeated Toji after that, but he didn't feel satisfied. He kept sending blow after blow to Toji’s corpse till it was reduced to nothing. He went down to recover your body, seeing you still had that stupid smile spread across your face, with tear stains on your cheeks. 
He was the one who brought you back to announce your death to Jujutsu High. “So… she finally did it…” Yaga told him. “She finally gave her life to someone else.”
He didn't understand what he meant. It was only later that he found that's why you were considered a special grade. You quite literally gave your power to him, making him stronger than before, giving him your life force. You were now a part of him. 
He swears he sees you wherever he goes. You with that stupid fucking smile. He remembers screaming at your image, screaming that it was your fault he feels like this. And what did you do? You just smiled the whole time, albeit a bit sadder now. 
He would visit your grave constantly, a grave that simply had your name plastered on it with the word “Oyasumi”. He hated that. He hated how you were reduced to just a piece of stone. 
The last time he saw you was when he destroyed it. He couldn't control himself, his anger, his hate, his despair. He destroyed the only thing that was keeping you in this world. When the dust cleared, he saw you standing there, waving goodbye to him before walking away in the midst of the new morning.
“She's not coming back…” he heard someone say from behind him. He almost attacked that person too. They stopped him however, introducing themselves as ‘the prophet’. They gave you a choice. Kill them there and never be able to see you again, or attempt to change the past. Change the past? He remembers thinking. How stupid is this person? After hesitating to attack, the person came forward to him, offering him a bundle of forget-me-nots to him. He thought it was a sick joke. He was the only one to bring those flowers to your now decimated grave. He threw the flowers down, demanding the person explain why they were here.
“Simple, I just can't stand to see someone lose their soulmate.”
His…. Soulmate?
“She was yours, you know. And yet… you treated her like a mere pest. Yet she still gave her life to support you, to make you stronger than ever. Why?”
He was going to kill this person if they continued like that. 
“I can give you a chance to re-do it all. To find her again, to make things right. After all, you love her, no?”
And so, here he was. Watching you from afar as you hung out with Suguru before you two were even supposed to meet. Now was his chance to make up for what he did. Now was the chance to give his life to you.
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ju1cyfru1t · 1 year ago
Note
Hiii pooks! 😙 I love❤️ ur writhing sm
I’ve been having such a spider man phase after watching the new spider verse movie and I was wondering what would the turtles think when they figured out reader being NY’s Spider women or spider person like they haven’t told thier turtle bf about it and stuff (live for the drama😵‍💫)
Always love you and def feel free to ignore!
I LOVE THIS thank you pookie 🤭 hope u like it 🫶🏻🕸️ u didn’t specify so I’m gonna assume you meant the rise turtles!
Rise! Leo, Mikey, Donnie, Raph x Spider-Woman! S/O
ROTTMNT x Reader
fluff! :D, fem! reader, contains swearing, not proofread
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Leo
- He may not be the brightest mutant, but he is observant
- Probably interrogated the info out of you
- -> “Y/N, where exactly were you last night?” “Oh, uh…I was with, um, April.” “That’s funny…considering April was with us!”
- It didn’t really shock him to find out you had a big secret, what did shock him is what that secret is
- He’s also a little hurt that you didn’t tell him. Don’t you trust him??? But that wasn’t his biggest concern
- “Wait, so like…spider woman as in like, big mama kind of spider woman?” NO-
- You would have to really explain it to him
- But let’s be real, he still wouldn’t understand so you’d have to show him by like climbing up the fucking wall or something
- But he really does think your powers are super sick
- Laughs when you try to explain your spidey senses -> “wait, you’re serious?”
- ^ calls them your “tingly thing”
- maybe you can web his fucking mouth shut
- LOVES your suit, thinks you look stunning and super awesome
- “You know, I always said that was your color Y/N!”
- Invites you to patrol with them! (then he doesn’t have to do as much)
- thinks you’re so hot when you fight (NOT IN A FREAKY WAY YOU FREAKS) and hypes you up
- freaks tf out if he ever gets a web on him, including if you were to swing with him to get out of harms way
- doesn’t ask for them, but he can’t deny he likes the iconic Spider-Man kisses
Mikey
- would just straight up ask if you’re hiding something. Dr.Delicate touch DOES NOT PLAY ‼️
- Of course this would be something you’re hesitant about, but he would remind you that you can confide in him
- Def was not expecting THIS.
- He is asking you a million questions all at once, and will sit nicely and listen as you explain with starry eyes (stop lookin at me with them big ole eyes)
- You’re #1 fan and biggest hype man
- Thinks you’re the coolest person ever fr
- Wants to swing around on your webs with you. Around NYC, in the lair, in Donnie’s lab, on missions, it doesn’t matter he WANTS it.
- THE ICONIC SPIDER-MAN KISSES ALL THE TIME ITS HIS FAVORITE WAY TO KISS YOU NOW
- weirdly interested in your webs 🕸️
- Compliments your suit anytime you wear it around him; thinks your mask is so so cute
- ^ in his free time he’ll sketch and color new suit designs to show you (also just drawings and paintings of you in your suit)
Donnie
- isn’t going to pry any secrets from you; but he does secretly wish you’d come to him on your own.
- so you can imagine his gratitude and relief when you finally tell him what’s up
- Doesn’t really say anything about it, but he doesn’t get why you didn’t just tell him sooner. I mean, you do know he’s a hero too, right?
- he’s fascinated, he’s never seen anything like your powers before. especially because you’re not a mutant.
- really just asks questions about how it all works. Your webs, how you stick to surfaces, your enhanced senses, the whole deal yk?
- He did NOT like big mama’s webs, and he doesn’t really like yours either I’m so sorry.
- ^if he needs them, would ask to use some like he did with Big Mama’s
- It’s not you I swear he just can’t do it
- you could like climb all over his lab ceiling and walls and scare the shit out of him tho
- ^ “Y/N get down this instant! WE TALKED ABOUT THIS-“
- admires your enhanced senses and intuition of danger
- is absolutely gonna make gear for you, as well as offering to make upgrades to your suit
- wouldn’t really directly say it, but he really likes the design of your suit. it just fits you so well. (he IS going to make a purple one for you)
- would scream if you ever just dropped down in front of him to kiss him spider man style
- ^ traumatized; it’s not his favorite thing but he doesn’t mind terribly
Raph
- might take him a while to notice if something is off about you. Leo or Mikey would probably have to directly point it out for him to realize fully
- Isn’t going to beat around the bush and just asks why you’re acting lowkey shady
- really shocked, might take him a second to process even if he doesn’t really know exactly what you mean at first
- honestly he understands why you keep it a secret, just a little saddened that you kept it from him
- He’s gonna need you to really explain your powers
- “…where do the webs come out of tho?”
- would deepen your bond and connection. you can really relate to each other carrying a deep burden and the pressure of responsibility.
- AMAZING DUO with his strength and your agility
- very good hype man
- takes you on most missions and patrols, thinks you’re a really valuable asset to the team
- also calls your spider senses your “tingly thing”
- it’s not that he doesn’t like your webs, something about them just make him nervous. Refuses to let you swing him on them unless he’s in immediate danger.
- does NOT let you crawl around the lair walls, he’s scared you’ll hurt yourself
- ^ “Y/N! You’re gonna hurt yourself, GET DOWN!”
- really thinks you look so pretty in your special suit, he just doesn’t know how to say without feeling like he sounds dumb. He would DIE if it was red.
- “ I really…er, like your costume.”
- very supportive! he gets the struggle of protecting the city, but is happy you get to do it beside each other. :D
- he likes the spidey kisses, they just really fluster him
——————————————————————————
y’all I’m sorry if there is any misinformation in this don’t flame me but I haven’t seen atsv yet
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toracainz · 10 months ago
Text
Shrike
Masterlist
Summary: Things with Marc have been…touchy to say the least. Can things get better?
Pairings: Marc x fem!reader
Warnings: Swearing. Established relationships. Verbal conflict. Break up. Physical conflict with some asshole. Knife but no harm to reader. Everything is wet but not how you think. hurt/comfort. angst/comfort. i mean I hope the comfort is there lol.
Word count: 4.3k
A/N: this is for my first-ever fic request. never thought someone would ever want to ask me of all people for a fic. I hope everyone likes it. it kind of got away from when writing it sooooo lol
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Things were fairly quiet in the flat as Marc enters looking exhausted. It doesn’t take him long to notice the sound of the shower running. You were home. Just great. With an exasperated huff, Marc makes his way to the chest of drawers to quickly pack for yet another mission. Grabbing the things he was looking for he begins to shove them in a bag, trying to hurry out of the flat before you can notice, but he was never that lucky.
The shower turned off as he was putting the last couple things in and in a rush Marc runs into a chair with a loud thud and a “Fuck!”
“Marc?” You called from the bathroom, hoping it was him and not some burglar, as you stepped out, wrapped in your towel. He had been gone for quite some time with no word on if he was okay or when he’d be coming back. You and Marc had been together a while now, so long that he actually trusted you enough to tell you about Khonshu and what being his avatar meant. It was a bit hard to believe at first, until Marc summoned his suit in front of you…there’s no denying it then. So you came to understand that what Marc was doing was for the greater good, that he was out there helping good people and punishing bad ones. The first few times he left on a mission, you were worried sick and oh so relieved when he got back no matter how long that would be for…but after a while, after many discussions about just a simple text being enough, some kind of indication he was alive and maybe even when you would see him again him being away also brought frustration and maybe a little anger. While fights had become frequent when his missions were brought up, you both managed to make up and move on…until it happened again.
“Shit…” Marc muttered under his breath, “Yeah!…yeah, it’s me. Just stopped by to grab some things…got a uh…long trip ahead.” He knew what was about to come, another fight, another round of the same old thing.
“That’s it?! You’re just grabbing things and going? Were you even going to say ‘hello’? Or ‘I missed you’? Or ‘I love you’? Just grabbing things and avoiding me now?” Your tone became more and more agitated with each question. You had been waiting for him to come back, like you always did, and had been looking forward to spending time with him. Did he seriously need to go on another mission right as he was coming back from one??
“I didn’t think you’d be home.”
“Do you even know what day it is? Of course I’m home, Marc.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Spector. How many more times do I have to ask you, to beg you to just send me a message or call me? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you really just didn’t give a shit.” By now you’ve shed the towel that was wrapped around you and began to dress yourself. You were fuming and you truly wondered if he did care, if he could change.
“Is that what you think?” Marc let out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, his grin at your accusatory statement beginning to  turn sour. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. To be right about me, huh? Someone who doesn’t give a shit about us, about you? Fine…you know what you’re right. I’ll save you the trouble and just get the fuck out of here.”
You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Is he fucking serious right now? That’s it. “Good. And don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” The words felt cold even to you, but what else could be done? Sleepless nights, the secrecy, the blatant disregard for your relationship…you were basically like another goldfish for him and the flat your tank, just waiting for Marc to come back and feed you the little flakey sorry excuses for quality time or physical touch. It’s time to find open waters.
Marc couldn’t believe you, he didn’t believe you, that you would seriously leave. If he’s being honest with himself (which let’s be honest he can rarely be honest with the people he cares about let alone himself) he’s surprised you haven’t left him before now. Maybe he really is a piece of shit that doesn’t care…no, he can’t think like that. You’ve fought before and you make up and…everything’s okay. That’s right. You’re the one constant in his life and he really does look forward to seeing you after his missions…everything’s going to be okay.
He looks at you, intense brown eyes assessing you for your bluff…of course you’re bluffing…he shakes his head letting out a puff of breath through his nose before turning and walking out the door, shutting it a little harder than intended but not quite a slam.
Unfortunately for Marc…you weren’t bluffing.
As he makes his way out of the flat and on to his next mission you had begun to pack your things, anger simmering into frustration and heartbreak as tears roll down your cheeks. You try to steady yourself but you can’t stop the tears. Grabbing your things, or as much of it as you care to take with you, you walked out and locked the door. With the key in hand you looked it for a moment and sighed.
“Goodbye, Marc Spector.”
You knelt down and slid the key under the door, turning away and headed home.
~*~*~*~
Marc tries to quietly enter the flat like he had weeks earlier…once again he hadn’t called or texted you to update you on his mission, how he was, when he was coming back. This time however he was going to be able to just relax a while. Knowing things were left not on great terms, he had been ruminating on how to make it up to you. “I won’t be here when you get back.” The whole time he had been away those words stayed with him, he would tell himself you didn’t mean it, that you would still be here. After all, you were so patient and understanding of him, his past, and trying to help him make a better future.
Marc wasn't the best at keeping people close, especially the people he cared about. He told himself the reason he never called or texted you while on a mission was for your safety, he didn’t want anyone catching wind of him having something or someone to lose. He told himself it was the same reason that when he returned from a mission he would never come directly home. He would always stay at his storage locker a night or so or even stay somewhere else entirely before making his way back to the flat to see you. Of course he never expressed this. That would have made too much sense, made things too easy. And Marc was never good at making things easy, especially for himself.
He walked around the flat, looking for a sign you might be here. He didn’t see your bags or your laptop anywhere and he didn’t hear the shower or sink so you weren’t in the bathroom.
“Babe???” He called out. Maybe you were hiding? Yeah right, not really any place to hide in this open floor plan flat. “Baby???” Still he called out hoping just maybe you were hiding. He started back to the front of the flat, thinking you might have been in the kitchen (maybe with your headphones in listening to music) and he just didn’t notice. Marc was beginning to feel like a kid that had gotten separated from their parents at the grocery store. But when he got to the kitchen it was empty. Now he was beginning to panic. Maybe someone had found out about you and took you. He was already jumping to the worst possible scenario.
Clenching his fists, he hung his head trying to think of what to do, how to find you. His hands found their way into his curls as he gave them a tug getting more and more desperate with each passing second. That’s when the glint of something metallic flashed at him from a spot on the floor in front of the door. Confused and intrigued, he slowly approached it as if it might suddenly attack, but once he got closer he felt like he would have preferred a key monster attacking him.
Your copy of the key.
He knelt down, picking it up, examining it. This was definitely your key. Realization came crashing down on him. You really meant what you said. He really fucked up.
“Shit…SHIT!!”
He had to find you. He never wanted it to end like this, hell he never wanted it to end in general. It was one of those moments where you don’t truly appreciate what you have until it’s gone. Marc grabbed his jacket and keys and started back out into the chilly London night, thunder rolling in the distance. He had to find you and apologize. You deserved at least that. He told himself that even if you didn’t take him back, even if you didn’t forgive him, he wouldn’t blame you or be upset, you had every right to be upset. He fucked up royally after you begged him to be better. Maybe next time he would learn from his mistake, if he allowed himself to find someone else…but he didn’t want anyone else.
He managed to find a flower shop that was just about to close. Briefly summarizing his situation the shoppist took pity on him, letting him buy a small bouquet. Marc felt that if it was too big his apology might seem insincere or that he was just trying to bribe you to come back. No, the size he got was modest, but not puny. He hoped you would like it, even if you no longer liked him.
With an aching heart, he begins the trek to your place. You both hadn’t talked about moving in together just yet, but maybe if Marc hadn’t been such an ass maybe you could have.
~*~*~*~
The past weeks had been…hard, to say the least. You had gone home and cried and got angry and cried some more. By now the pain, though still fresh, had simmered down a little. You didn’t want things to end that way, but Marc just wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t change. It was hard having him gone so often, worrying if he was alright even knowing the suit would heal him. You just wanted to have him near you, hold you, and you wanted to do the same to him. He’s a good man deep down, but he just can’t seem to get out of his own way.
Your friends had been taking you out on the town since you broke things off with Marc, trying to get your mind off of it all. It worked, sometimes. Other times you would call it an “early” night and head back to your flat. This was one of those nights.
You had dressed cute, a very flattering outfit in both fit and color. You had a drink or two but nothing crazy, not like one of your friends. They all decided to stay out into the early morning, you however thought about your bed and sleeping in. The sound of your shoes against the sidewalk was really the only sound around in this sleepy part of town, aside from the thunder that seemed to get closer. Heaving a sigh, you cursed at yourself for not having brought a proper jacket or umbrella, but you were close to your neighborhood so maybe you could get there before it truly started raining. Now the bed was sounding even better than before, rain outside, cozy blanket, your comfort movie on, the feeling of being watched…your steps were no longer the only ones heard echoing in the night air. Your thoughts were yanked from the blissful thoughts of home to the very present moment and the gravity of just how alone you are this late at night.
You don’t dare look back, so you start to walk a little faster…the other steps picking up their pace too. Again and again, until you’re practically running, but try as you might those other steps are quicker. A strong arm suddenly grabs you from behind as a hand quickly covers your mouth as the body begins to carry you into an alley as rain begins to sprinkle down. The man harshly presses you against the hard exterior of the building…a glint in the dim light…a knife coming to hover in front of your face. As the rain begins to come down truly, it hides the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek.
“Hey, pretty lady. Where’s your friends, hmm? Seen you walking this way couple times…watching that ass move down the road. But that isn’t all I want. Give me your purse, your phone, anything of value…now.” His voice was harsh and his smell somehow still carried through in the rain. You hate how close he was, close enough to know things about him you never wanted to know. As he shifts against you, adjusting his hold on you, you can’t help but whimper in fear.
“Come on now! Don’t have all night pretty thing…out with it.” He barked in your face as your trembling hands began to comply, handing him your things.
“P…please just…please don’t…” Trying to catch your breath at this moment proved nearly impossible. Your heart pounding against your ribs, your lungs doing the same as your hastened breath matched your heart. This couldn’t be happening, why was this happening.
The man tucked your things away, to where you didn't know and didn’t care. You let out a whimper of fear of what might come next. The cold rain beating down on the both of you made you feel even more helpless, especially when a figure was suddenly standing at the entrance to the alley you had been dragged in. It was difficult to make out his features with the way the street light was lighting him from the back. Anxiety spiked as you began to wonder if this was another creep wanting to get in on the action, if they were a weird team or something, but more than anything you hoped it was some kind soul who would help you…though you were quickly running out of hope.
“Oi, what are you looking at huh?” The creep challenged the figure, so they obviously didn't know each other. You glanced around hoping the man would be distracted enough that maybe you could make a break for it, but before you could hatch a plan the figure was headed towards the both of you. “Are you deaf?! You better walk the other way and mind your business, yeah?!”
By now you had closed your eyes, you didn’t know what to do, words were failing you. All you wanted was to be home in bed and for all this to be some sick nightmare brought on by the night's tiring events. The sound of plastic hitting the ground was nearly drowned out by the pattering of rain. In an instant you were colder than before. Was this it? You stood there trembling as time seemed to drag on one agonizing second after another. You realized the creep was no longer caging himself around you, there was a thud and splash of a body hitting the puddling rain on the ground…then a repetitive thunk, thunk, thunk.
Your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton as you slowly opened your eyes, raindrops collecting on them before inevitably falling to your cheeks. And there you see the second man, pummeling the creep until he’s just a groaning barely writhing mess on the ground. When the man stood he gave the creep a swift kick to the gut causing him to cough and wheeze as the man wiped his knuckles clean before retrieving your things…and pocketing them himself. Oh shit, no this can’t be…not another asshole. Your legs could finally hear your brain’s commands as you started to hurry to the alley opening, the crunch of plastic as you stepped on what the man had dropped.
A strong, forceful, calloused hand grabbed your arm as you let out a scream. “NOOOOO! LET GO!!!” Somehow your fight had returned as you pulled against the man’s grip, his other hand coming to grab your arm. He was…saying something, but you didn’t want to hear it, you just wanted to run.
“BABY!!”
You froze, your eyes snapping to look at the man holding you still, eyes wide from adrenaline, fear, and shock. The street light no longer casting a shadow over his features, now the light shone on his damped tan skin and making his wet curly hair glisten.
“M…Marc? Marc…” You couldn’t help it, seeing him there feeling his grip holding you steady, everything came crashing in. A heartbreaking sob clattered from deep inside. Marc reached up, cupping your face in his hands.
“Shhhh…shhh it’s okay baby, it’s okay. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.” His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks before slipping behind to pull you in close. The rain beat down on you both as Marc held you until you had managed to calm down enough so your thoughts could catch up with what was happening.
“Marc, you…how did you…why are you…?” You stuttered as his hand reached up, gently wiping your hair out of your face where it had clung to your skin.
“I uh…I was coming to see you…to apologize. Wanted to get my thoughts together on what I wanted to say…felt like walking was the best way to do that. Well, walking where I could. That’s when I heard a bit of…what was happening. I was already ready to step in and do something…but when I saw it was you I just saw red. Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” The way he looked at you, his chocolatey brown eyes seeming so dark in the late night, you still didn’t understand.
Marc carefully and slowly let go of you to pick up the plastic wrapped bouquet of flowers, now slightly trampled and looking a little rough.
“These were…these were for you. Though, I don’t blame you if you don’t want them now.” He turned the bouquet this way and that to examine the little bit of damage they sustained. Looking back at you, clearly still in shock, he hands you the bouquet and begins to take off his jacket, putting it around your shoulders. The jacket shielding you, it was warm and helped take the chill from your skin. Putting his arm around you, he began to lead you out of the alley and down the sidewalk to your flat. Once at the door, he helped you to unlock it.
“Well, um…you get inside and get warm.” He stood there a moment, not sure what to do really. Should he come in? Would you even want him to come in? Maybe you should call one of your friends to come over…Marc doesn’t believe you’d want him to stick around too long. So, he begins to take a few steps away from you and the door.
“Why did you come to find me, Marc? The flowers? What is…what is happening here? I mean—thank you, for saving me. For—for being there, I just…I don’t understand.” Shaking your head you still tried to make sense of what felt like a very strange sequence of events. You looked at him, like really looked at him. The man you thought you’d never see again except for an awkward exchange at a pub or a tesco. He resembled a sad puppy that had been left in the rain.
“That’s probably the shock. You’ll want to lay down for a while…like I said, I wanted to—to apologize. For being an ass, for not listening to you, for all the times you begged me to do something and I never did. Look,” Marc took a deep breath, his shirt now beginning to cling to his body. “I am in no way expecting you to forgive me or take me back or give me a second chance cause quite frankly I don’t deserve it. You asked me so many times to do something so simple and I had convinced myself that by me not doing that—not texting you or calling you—I was protecting you. That I was making it so people wouldn’t find out about you…and I should have just told you that. I am so sorry. If I had—if I had maybe you wouldn’t have been out tonight. Maybe you would have been back home waiting for me to come home, you wouldn’t have…” his chest began to rise and fall as his breath hastened.
He did this. He caused this domino effect where you could have gotten seriously hurt. It seems no matter what he does, he can’t help but hurt the people he cares about. Maybe it is better that he just not get close to anyone…as much as it breaks his heart.
While Marc had begun to spiral you made your way down the front steps over to him, taking his hand in yours.
“Marc, stop that. None of what happened tonight is because of you…sure I might have been somewhere else, but some creep could have found me any other night. He could have found me while you were gone on your mission, but,” you quickly added, giving Marc a stern look, stopping him from saying that that would have been his fault too for not being here, “you can’t blame yourself for that. Marc, do you know how long I’ve just wanted an apology? An acknowledgment of how you were hurting me.” When those words left your mouth, Marc brows knit together, causing that crease between them to appear, he looked positively gutted. Of course he was hurting you, there didn’t need to be some weirdo in the middle of the night or some enemy of his to cause you pain—he was already doing that.
“I know…and I should have said it a long time ago. I should have because you deserved that much…that’s why I came out to find you…why I got the flowers. I—You deserved better. I understand why you left and I’m sorry it had to end like that.” He did everything he could not to look at you, he thought if he did his heart would hurt more than it already did. “You deserve far better than someone that doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone.”
Your hand reached up, gently cupping his rain slick cheek, the both of you thoroughly soaked by now, but not wanting to leave the other despite the rain. When Marc felt the warmth of your hand on his cheek he couldn’t help but lean into it, damn he missed this.
“Oh, Marc…damn it. I never wanted to leave. I wanted you to work with me. It broke my heart to leave, but I didn’t see any other way. You didn’t seem like you wanted this to work…wanted us to work.” Your other hand came up to move his hair from where it stuck to his skin like he had yours. This really hit Marc hard. He wanted to be with you, couldn’t imagine life without you. Well he got a glimpse of it tonight and the horrid taste it left in his mouth was something he wished to never taste again, but that wasn’t up to him.
He took a deep breath, a calloused hand coming to hold yours against his cheek.
“Come inside, Marc.”
“I—I shouldn’t.”
“I wasn’t asking. You say you don’t want a second chance, that you don’t deserve one, but if anyone deserves a second chance it’s Marc Spector.”
His eyes snapped up to find yours, slightly widened at this news. “Baby…”
“Marc, I love you. And I want you in my life, but if this is going to work, if we’re going to be together…some things have got to get better. All I’ve done since I left was think about you. So…promise me, if we do this, that things will get better.” You stepped closer to him, your body pressing against his as his other hand comes to rest on your waist.
“I swear. Baby, I swear. I’ll text you, call you, send postcards, anything you want. I’ll make it up to you, all the times I fucked up.” He pulled you closer, arm wrapping around you.
“Marc, let’s take this a step at a time. Okay? A new start. How does that sound?”
“Like heaven on Earth. Like I’ve been reborn.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his flowery statements. Marc could be goofy when he wanted to, you felt like he was only able to relax when you were around and you didn’t mind that. It meant that you made him comfortable, that he felt like he could let down some of his walls and let you in.
Hearing your laugh made his heart lighter, a smile spreading across his lips. Marc was in awe of you, of your features, your laugh and voice, and your saint-like patience. He found himself leaning in, eyes drifting down to your lips, yours doing the same. You couldn’t help it, not with how close he was and how his hand held you against him.
“Marc,” you breathed out before his kiss took your breath away. He pressed his lips to yours like it had been a lifetime since he’d kissed you. The rain didn’t seem so cold anymore as you both embraced.
taglist: @saberlight1 @roseqzpd​ @rosecentaur1916​ @ahookedheroespureheart @sleepyamaya @parkeepingparker @lockleysgrl @marc-spectorr @vermillionsails @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @missdictatorme @bitchyglitterfox @spacecowboyhotch @randomchick546 @teacupcollector @local-mr-frog @stevenknightmarc @ahookedheroespureheart @mccn-bcys @juneknight
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amore-reads16 · 3 months ago
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Liam Mairi x fem reader
Overview- Liam and Y/N have been spending a lot of time together over the past few months and feelings between the pair have developed deeply however there is a betrayal under the surface that is uncovered leaving only heart break behind.
Note- okay so this is and idea that came to me and is meant to be like the turning point of an enemies to lovers story where the protagonist has been betrayed and finds out so mainly the feelings of hurt and betrayal. So yeah have fun with that one if you can! Also listening to I love you I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams might set the tone…
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Liam had been missing from dinner which was strange as he always made time to sit next to you even if it was to talk about trivial things. Even though you had only begun properly getting to know each other five months ago there had not been one day where you had not seen to him, spoken to him, laughed with him and for the last few months exchanged and sneaked kisses in the hallway away from prying eyes. So for Liam to be missing from your side tonight was beyond weird. In fact he always was by your side you suddenly thought. Strange how one person can go from not knowing another to being completely and utterly consumed by them. It was a feeling you had tried not to become dependant on but the strange feeling in your stomach told you that you had failed miserably at that task.
After finishing dinner and having seen everyone else, including your friends and brother leave, you knew something wasn’t right. Something was out of place. It wasn’t just Liam missing from dinner you had observed. His friends had also been absent including Xeden Riorson, which yes was nothing new, but tonight was different- they were all gone. Finally picking yourself up from the bench you had been sitting at hopefully and wistfully waiting for the blond haired, bright eyed boy to stroll by in the cocky, childish way he usually did, you quietly exit to dining room.
Wrapped up in your thoughts you suddenly realise that your body has taken you to the outskirts of the building to a small garden that Liam often took you to- a place he called his ‘secret little spot, away from nosey people’. However it must not be that secret you think as you catch a glimpse of five hooded figures, some in incredibly tall and one shorter signalling a mix of men and women within the group. Using the stealth you have fostered from years of sneaking around your family home as a child, you creep around the corner within earshot of the group hiding in the dark shadows the crevice provided, curiosity taking over your mind. The voices are muffled of course, but there is one distinctive boyish voice that stands out. A voice that often soothed you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear now sounded serious, concerned and ultimately regretful.
“She’s different to what you think Xaden” so Xaden is one of the hooded figures, you think, makes sense.
“Liam, I couldn’t care less if she is an angel sent from the heavens herself- she’s dangerous. To us. To everything we’ve been working for.” Xaden replies. Who is she?
“So what? We just kill her? She’s innocent Xaden” Liam responds angrily. That tone is a tone you have only heard a couple of times. Never directed at you of course unless you do something stupid that puts you in harms way. Istead that tone is used towards people that disrespect you, sexualise you, try to hurt you.
Xaden tuts and lets out a short breath “don’t tell me Mairi that you’ve actually fallen for this girl.” Suddenly the identity of this girl is becoming clearer unless Liam has been cheating on you, which would be extremely out of character, this mystery girl the cloaked figures have gathered to discuss is indeed you.
Liam pauses for a long moment before answering and you swear you can hear your heart beat in your chest so loudly it will give your identity away. “No. Of course not” he eventually replies.
Heart ache consumes your body. Although you have never told Liam you love him and he has never uttered those three words to you, you have felt it. You have felt how much you love him and in return how much he loves you. And that had been enough for you. But now hearing him deny the affection you was sure he felt, your heart felt like it had been crushed under your own dragon’s foot.
“Her signet is just as dangerous as Aetos’. She is a valuable weapon for them, one they will never let go. Liam you know who her parents are. Her dad cut half of us down during the rebellion and her mother was the greatest healer of all time and it seems she is set to follow in her foot steps. Are you sure her signet is healing?” Xaden asks
“Yes. I have seen it. It is impressive but not at its full potential yet. She told me that she has been advised that is will manifest even deeper and only grow stronger. With the right training she will be able to heal a body that is on the brink of death” Liam says in a quieter voice then he used before- he almost sounds defeated you think as you refuse the sudden urge to scoop him into your arms and comfort him. Comfort the man who has just betrayed you and your secret. The man who has just signed your death sentence.
“She can’t ever expand her powers. It is too dangerous to have her running around healing everyone we try and take down. We will never win when the number of us decreases and theirs stay the same” another voice speaks and you immediately recognise it as Imogen’s. She has always hated you. You have always been able to sense it, see it in her eyes. Not that you blame her. Your dad killed a significant number of their people before he was killed himself, and your mother did nothing to help. She could have healed them all but yet she didn’t and kept on healing the men and women on the other ‘right side’ of the rebellion as your father used to quote to you.
“Liam you need to gather more information from her before we take her down. We need to know more about Aetos. They are still training together?” Garrick asks. So this is where they all were you think, instead of eating pie they were plotting your downfall. Liam was plotting your downfall. Betrayal curses down your spine. The heart break that had initially struck you has now been transformed into anger. Pure loathing anger. You gave your heart to that boy, you have everything up for that boy, and he used you. For information, for knowledge, for the secret you were swore to protect but gave away so easily to a pretty smile and twinkling eyes. Pathetic. You have been pathetic. But no longer you think.
“Yes they train every-“ he begins but you have had enough. Even if it gets you killed you cannot bear to sit here in the shadows, like a coward, another moment longer. Standing up Xaden immediately notices the movement.
“Shit. Shut up” he commands
“No need” you reply “I’ve heard everything” you emerge from the shadows that just before kept you hidden in your heart break. The anger you feel in this moment is a feeling you think you will never forget. To have loved someone and then been stabbed in the back by the same hands that held you at night. To have trusted in someone so profoundly only for your trust to have been built on lies and deceit. To have sacrificed your families beliefs, honour and status only to have them proven right and you painted as the naive love struck girl. It was sickening. It was transforming. Love turned into a bitter gall of hatred.
Storming up to the group, dagger in your hand, the faces of the cloaked figures run towards you but you can only focus on Liam’s surprised, hurt eyes. His mouth is agape and he somehow despite his betrayal looks guilt stricken. “Y/N please, I can explain” he pleads with his hands but you are not giving in.
“Keep your nerves quick one!” Rhella, your dragon encourages, as you focus on your movements ducking out of the way as Bodhi tries to restrain you followed by Imogen who you elbow swiftly in the windpipe chocking her causing her to fall to the floor gasping for breath. But that doesn’t matter as you have swiftly reached Liam and without hesitation you raise your dagger to his throat. Your breath is heavy. Your eyes are wild with anger. Your breath is ragged.
“Please let me explain Y/N” Liam says again
“NO!” You yell back and press the dagger harder drawing the slightest bit of blood. Perhaps you might have drawn more if it hadn’t been for Xaden’s shadows flinging the dagger from your fingers and Garrick restraining you whilst the others watch in shock.
Squirming in Garrick’s arms you try and wriggle free but it is no use, he has both your arms locked, and you suddenly begin debating if these will be your last moments on earth.
“Jesus Christ you came out of no where” Bodhi mutters helping a still winded Imogen up who has already set a deadly glare on you. Not that you care. She is the least of your concerns at the moment.
“Fuck” Xaden mutters as he places a hand on his head and begins to pace as if thinking very deeply.
“Let me go you fucker” you yell at Garrick.
“Shut your mouth” Xaden storms over to you grabbing your chin in his strong hand causing your mouth to shut immediately as he commanded.
“Xaden” Liam interrupts in a harsh tone almost as if he is warning him.
“Liam I think it’s best you leave” Xaden says in a low deadly voice making you shudder.
“No” Liam bluntly says causing Xaden to turn around still holding your chin strongly. “I mean- no I’m not leaving you to kill her in the middle of the bloody school. Do you know what kind of message that will send? They will know it was one of us or at least blame us for ease. We are done if you kill her now and you know it.” He says convincingly but the way Liam just coldly bargained for your survival without any compassion for you or your life causes a tear to roll down your face. He want a you alive to save their own treacherous necks. Not because he loves you and can’t bear to be in the world without you. Fucker.
“Well what do I do with her now then Liam ? She knows too much” Xaden says
Liam sighs and groans “just- just all of you go and leave her with me I can talk to her, make sure she keeps this a secret.”
Imogen lets out a shrill strangled laugh “and HOW are you going to do that Mairi? She won’t trust a word you fucking say now”
You let out a grunt in agreement to that statement causing all eyes to fall back on you. Usually Liam’s eyes are the only ones you meet however the darkness in Xaden’s are hard to look away from in this moment. He wants you dead, that much is clear, and you aren’t sure he is going to let you leave this garden without claiming your life.
“I’m going to talk to her Imogen. We clearly can’t kill her now” we is the word that stabs you “so we will have to keep her alive and on our side” Liam angrily explains finally walking forward to where you stand putting his body only a few inches from yours where Xaden still stands manhandling you. “Let her go” he tells Xaden. Xaden looks reluctant but lets go. The relief to have his strong hands off you is unmatched, and you are sure your jaw will be deeply bruised from the strength of his grip.
“Leave everyone” Xaden commands and although the rest seem reluctant to go they do. Clearly Xaden is their leader. Now only Liam, Xaden and Garrick, who is still restraining you, remains.
“Listen and listen closely” Xaden whispers “you will not utter a word of this to anyone. You will not let anyone know we are aware of your signet and you will not tell anyone what you saw or heard tonight” he explains blandly as if it was that simple.
“And if I do not comply” you practically spit at him.
“I will personally kill your brother. Jude is it? He seems sweet, naive much like you, but kind and caring. I will crush him with my shadows and rip his soul out of him” Xaden says- no hint of any emotion on his face making his words more haunting. “Do you understand me?”
Water swells in your eyes as you quickly spare a glance at Liam who looks mortified. How dare he? This is your life, your brother’s life that is at risk not his.
“Yes” you whisper.
“Yes what?” Xaden demands.
“Yes Riorson I understand and I will not utter a word to this to anyone” you reply.
“Brilliant-“
“On one condition” you add.
Xaden laughs but it is not humoured. It is bitter and hateful. “You aren’t exactly in the position to be making demands Y/LN” he grabs your chin again causing Liam to finally interfere somehow pushing his hand away.
“Enough Xaden” he says in a tone so demanding and sure it frightens you. “What is it you ask Y/N” Liam asks you.
You look into his eyes hoping to see some glimmer of what you used to see- love, admiration, respect. But there is only desperation. Desperation for you to not anger Xaden further.
“You must promise that you will not harm my brother nor me. You will let us both live despite whatever vendetta you unjustifiably have against me as an individual. I am not my family. I am my own person with the right to prove all of you fuckers wrong. Let me live and leave my brother be” you ask Xaden avoiding Liam’s penetrating gaze at all costs. To look into his eyes now would be to cry and look weak in front of the shadow lord in front of you- being weak will get you killed. So you keep your gaze strong, focused and unfaltering.
“Deal” Xaden agrees “but if you break this deal your brother will die and you will watch. Once you have processed your grief I will kill you also” he says plainly before signalling to Garrick to let you go which he does immediately.
“You have ten minutes then you both need to leave before we all get caught” Xaden says to Liam as him and Garrick turn around walking back inside not sparing you another glance, like you have now become worthless to them.
It is now just you and Liam. You and the backstabber. The silence is deafening and makes you want to cry. Liam sighs and attempts to reach for you but you step back wrapping your arms around your body as if to shelter yourself from anymore hurt he could inflict.
“Y/N” he says softly.
“Please Liam spare me your lies” you say, your voice raw and full of emotion.
“You don’t understand. I had to. Xaden needed the information and at first you didn’t mean anything to me but as time went on I started to like you and then I started to catch feelin-“
“Stop” you cut him off meeting his desperate gaze “don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare stand there and tell me that you felt anything for me whilst betraying me and lining me up like a pig to slaughter”
“I don’t want you dead!” He shouts “I never did! I- I- I love you for gods sake! I love you and don’t want you dead” he yells loudly.
You still. He has never said that to you. “It is amazing the lengths you will go to keep my mouth shut” you reply coldly “if you ever loved me you would have never have done this to me. Love shouldn’t include betrayal and you have betrayed me in the worst way possible.”
“You think I wanted this? Wanted to lie to you? To seduce you? To make you trust me? To fall hopelessly in love with you? I didn’t! But it happened and it’s real! I would have NEVER of let them kill you. You must know this” Liam sobs, he actually fucking sobs.
“I know nothing.” You say numbly “Infact that is a lie I do know this, I know that I now regret every moment spent with you, every word I spoke to you, every kiss I gave you, every night I let you have my body. I know that I hate you Liam and will never forgive you for this. I know that if you so much as look in my direction again I will not hesitate to kill you, consequences be damned. I know that I loved you and now I detest your existence” you deliver the lines with such confidence that you almost believe them yourself. Tears that you once shed have already dried on your face and your body feels heavy ready to collapse at any moment but you know you must stay strong.
“You don’t mean that” lean chocks out. Trying to come closer to you but you just step further away
“Get out of there quick one before you take back every word you have just said” Rhella warns and you heed.
“But I do” a hateful smile falls on your face “you fuck yourself Mairi” you say as you turn around ignoring Liam calling your name over and over. The last sound you hear his him sobbing and a thud that sounds a lot like a body collapsing to the floor as you speed walk to your room.
Making sure no one is lurking in the halls ready to rip you to shreds means it takes longer to get to your room but eventually you get there collapsing on the floor immediately as you shut the door. Your room still smells of him making it harder to breathe. Funny, you think, not only 24 hours ago the man you loved led in the bed in front of you and now that bed is empty alongside your heart. Only one thought manages to keep you going as you prepare for bed.
‘I will kill Liam Mairi if it is the last thing I fucking do’
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izvmimi · 4 months ago
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You can feel his eyes on you by the time you’re finishing up with the elementary schoolers, and before you turn to address Jotaro, you make sure to remind the young boy who’d just been staring wide-eyed at the echinoderms you handled gently in your hands while lecturing to walk, not run, out of the exhibit. He nods emphatically, and his first step, more of a skip, slows to a stiff walk immediately, which makes you giggle. 
Jotaro takes this as an opportunity to move closer finally, polite and careful around you as always. His hands are shoved in his pockets as you suspected, and he forces an expression of feigned indifference on his features as he approaches, but there’s no reason for him to be tailing you so closely as you handle the visiting school children on Marine Science day, and yet he does. It’s only because the most interesting thing in this entire aquarium has always ever been you.
If only he had the courage to say it out loud.
“Are you diving with me next week?” he asks as you dry your hands on the side of your cargo pants and give him your full attention. He’s dressed in the same uniform as you are, although still insisting on wearing his lab coat around the place - something about the long sleeves and long length part of his personal style - and you wonder, as your eyes pass over the width of the cling of the fabric of the cotton polo shirt to his chest how easily you could swim in that coat yourself. 
Rather than dwelling in the thought, you raise your eyebrows at him. 
“Am I not on the list?” you ask. Jotaro blinks, realizing his question, only meant to segue naturally into a conversation with you, only managed to confuse you.
“No, I mean, yes. You are.”
So why are you asking? should be your natural reply, but you allow him enough mercy but addressing the subject tangentially. “Is it your first one?” 
“No.”
“Mm. That’s good.”
As you continue to engage him in chatter, you’re looking around, making sure the kids did not leave any papers or knock anything over. There’s not too much to sweep, but Jotaro follows you, like some kind of pensive shadow, as you search in a hidden door along the walls of the decorated open plan room for the utility closet. He holds the door open for you wider as you search for a broom, watching you carefully, reaching for the accompanying dustpan before you can.
“Is it yours?” he asks. You give him a nod in the affirmative as you sweep, and you can tell that he already probably knew that. He pauses for a moment, and the environment remains still around you, aside from the run of the constantly running water in the tanks, sea creatures moving too close to the surface of the water, and the sound of the broom’s bristles brushing against the soft carpeted floors. 
These quiet moments with Jotaro are often like this, where you can tell what he’s saying in his heart is far more than anything he’s willing to say aloud. Sometimes you wonder if that ghost he swears follows him, the one that won’t let him come to any harm, the one that he insists is fond of you as well and won’t let you come to any harm, be it land or sea, knows the depth of his heart.
You’d like to know a little about it too, but for now you settle with letting him learn to speak his mind.
“I only asked because I didn’t want you to be worried,” he finally admits. “Because it’s your first time and because you looked a bit concerned back at our meeting.”
You stop sweeping for a moment, and look up towards him. He’s not the type to blush or frown, but even if he’s looking in your direction, the dustpan appearing small and silly in his hand, he makes sure his eyes don’t look directly in yours, but at a fixed point behind you.
“Will your ghost protect me?” you tease.
His eyes focus back on you, a crack of a smile on his face.
“You don’t think I could?”
Your face warms, and you regret not having as good of a poker face as he does. Perhaps because you don’t have a ghost to confide all your feelings to, them instead being written all over your face.
“I trust you,” you offer.
This widens his smile, as he steps closer to you, bending down to receive the pile of dust you’ve collected before you. 
Always ready to make your life easier in any way he can.
“Good.”
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