#i swear i meant no harm so if i did just let me know
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appocalipse · 8 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 sound deliberately casual. Too casual. "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 · 9 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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petersasteria · 4 days ago
Text
No Way (4) - G Dragon/Kwon Ji-Yong
Pairing: asshole!GD x fem!reader Summary: He wants a divorce. WC: 3755 Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || gd masterlist
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The silence after Jiyong's mom left your apartment was palpable. With his face still stinging and your eyes red and puffy, you looked at each other in silence. Jiyong knew that words couldn't fix everything, so he chose to be quiet. There were many things running through his head and you wished you knew what he was thinking about. God, you wished you knew.
Was he guilty?
Was he sorry about it?
Was he thinking of you and your family?
Was he thinking of her?
Jiyong stared at you and he wanted to know what you were thinking. Ever since this whole thing, he didn't know how to read you anymore and it scared him. He used to know how every furrowed brow is different, what every smile meant, when you felt tired, and now, he's lost. The spark in you has left and he knew it was his fault, but he didn't understand why he did what he did.
Eventually, you broke the silence.
"I'll go get you some ice." You whispered before making your way to the fridge to retrieve the ice pack you kept in the freezer.
Jiyong didn't know a lot of things, but he knew one thing: that ice pack is a symbol of the coldness he's about to receive from you.
Symbolisms were reoccurring things in your relationship with Jiyong. Specifically, 11:11. He didn't believe in it at first. He just thought Youngbae was being so sickly romantic about it.
"Just make a wish when you stumble upon it. I swear! It'll change your life." Youngbae happily said as he closed his eyes to make a wish.
"How does that even work? You just-"
"Shh, I'm wishing." Youngbae said with eyes closed. Jiyong rolled his eyes and waited for him to finish. Youngbae looked at him and said, "Just make a wish, but don't tell anyone or else it won't come true."
"You guys talking about 11:11, huh? My best friend Y/N told me the same thing. I thought she was going crazy!" Daesung laughed. "Maybe she's right."
"Are you guys just saying this because it's 2011? Or is this actually a thing?" Jiyong raised a brow in suspicion. He had never heard of this 11:11 nonsense.
"It's actually a thing." Daesung and Youngbae said at the same time. Seunghyun heard the whole thing and snickered, "Just wish for a girlfriend and if you get one, then you'll know it's true."
The next time Jiyong stumbled upon 11:11, he muttered, "Let's try this shit out, I guess." He wished for a girlfriend over and over until 11:12 rolled around. He looked at his watch and shrugged. There was no harm in trying, right?
To his surprise, his wish came true. He had a slew of girlfriends, but the relationship never really lasted long. Jiyong kept wishing and wishing and when his last girlfriend broke up with him before 2012 ended, he decided enough was enough. Or so he thought.
Daesung had invited the guys to your year-end party that was held at your childhood home. Being the introvert that he is, he knew he wanted the guys to go with him. Besides, it gave him a chance to introduce you to them.
When all of you were introduced, you were whisked away by your other friends, dragging Daesung with you. The guys sat on the couch and helped themselves with the snacks on the coffee table. At one point, Daesung joined them, his social battery already drained before midnight.
Jiyong got up from his seat on the couch and said, "I need some air." The other guys nodded and he went out to the balcony and breathed the cool night air. He looked out and realized you may be the luckiest girl to grow up in such a rich neighborhood. The view was amazing and he was sure you felt like a princess living in a palace.
He glanced at his phone and he snickered to himself. Of course, it was 11:11. He sighed to himself and wished that the next girl he sees is the girl he's going to marry. Just as he finished wishing, you stumbled outside and smiled. "There you are!" You said cheerfully.
He looked at you and he never really got to see you properly. Now that he was staring, he found you beautiful. He didn't know why Daesung didn't introduce you immediately, but if he were in Daesung's shoes, he would've done the same thing and gatekept you for a little while longer.
"The guys are looking for you. Besides, it's time to get settled. It'll be midnight soon. If you don't leave the balcony, I'm afraid we won't see you until next year." You joked and he chuckled, looking at the ground.
"I'll be right there." He replied. You nodded at him before leaving. He looked up at the sky and said, "Universe, you answer my wishes real quick."
11:11 had been a staple in your relationship. It was your lucky time.
It was summer of 2013, on 11:11, when he asked you to be his girlfriend. You were both at a beach and he gave you a pretty seashell. "This seashell is as pretty as you." He said as he handed it to you. You blushed and thanked him. "But I think you'd be prettier in my arms. Will you be my girlfriend?" He was tremendously nervous, but all his nerves went away when you pulled him into a deep kiss. "Does that answer your question?" You asked playfully as he gave you a gummy smile and kissed you again.
He proposed on 11:11 too. It was your 5th anniversary as a couple and he was so happy that both of you lasted so long. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were so happy.
Since every milestone in your relationship happened on 11:11, you decided to get married on, well, 11.11. It was a beautiful wedding with motifs of white and blue. It was truly magical.
11:11 was such a special hour. You gave birth on 11:11 too. It was the best wish you and Jiyong received (aside from each other, of course). You didn't know what happened after that, but everything started falling apart.
He came home at 11:11 PM, smelling like another woman's perfume and you knew everything was broken.
Jiyong glanced at the clock and it read 11:11. You handed him the ice pack and said, "I'm going to sleep."
"Make a wish before you sleep. It's 11:11." He said softly as he placed the ice pack on his cheek. You smiled sadly and said, "I stopped believing in that the moment you first went home smelling like another woman's perfume, but thanks for the consideration. Good night."
You left and he frowned.
-
It had been days since that moment and here he was backstage at BigBang's comeback concert. The guys were avoiding him, but not so much that staff would be suspicious about it. If you asked him, he thought the guys were Oscar-winning actors for the stunt they're pulling.
Seunghyun was trying so hard to keep a conversation with him because he knew he needed chemistry with him for Zutter.
Youngbae was fuming. He had been quiet since the whole debacle, but he wanted to say a bunch of shit. He was just waiting for the right time.
Daesung had nothing to say. He said everything he wanted to say that day at your apartment while you were out with Seunghyun. When Jiyong tapped his shoulder, all he said was, "I have nothing to say to you." Jiyong never tried again after that.
You were at home, crying your eyes out as you read through the divorce papers Jiyong gave you months ago. Seo-yeon was staying at Jiyong's parents' house as you sorted everything out. You moved some of your things at Daesung's place because you knew you had to stay somewhere after the divorce. You didn't want to stay at your shared apartment.
Fate was funny, especially when truth and karma joins in. Everything happened all at once and in a twist, it all happened at a certain hour:
Jiyong's mistress was browsing through her pictures to post on Instagram and by mistake, she clicks on her risqué selfie with Jiyong and posts it on her Instagram along with her recent vacation photos. She wouldn't know her mistake until minutes later.
Jiyong and the guys thanked the fans for coming to their concert. They all faked a smile at each other and gave each other a hug before bowing to their fans. They all left the stage after that.
After staring at Jiyong's contact for an hour, you wiped your tears and texted: I'm signing the papers.
When Jiyong checked his phone at 11:15, his heart dropped because of two things: he read your text and his mistress' photos go viral because of her mishap. He heard multiple pings behind him as he stopped walking and he knew that it now reached the guys.
Seunghyun walked up behind him and gave him a pat on the back, "Congrats! Everyone knows that you're an idiot now."
Youngbae walked past him and said, "I'm so fucking happy right now."
"~Karma is a god. Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend. Karma's a relaxing thought. Aren't you envious that for you it's not?~" Daesung smugly sang as he walked a little slower, looking at Jiyong dead in the eyes as he sang the last line. He snickered before shaking his head, leaving Jiyong behind.
Jiyong felt nauseous. His head was spinning and the whole venue felt stuffy. He was panicking and he didn't know what to do. Just as his vision blurred with tears, his phone rang: it's his mistress.
"What the fuck did you do?!" Jiyong shouted through the phone. "Why did you do that? Did you know how much you just jeopardized my career?!"
"Whoa, look, I'm sorry. If you ask me, you ruined your career the second you cheated on your wife! I'm not the bad guy here!" She argued through the phone.
"You don't get to pretend you're a good person now. You actively went after me too and you knew I was married. You had the choice to say no, but you didn't. You're just as bad as I am." Jiyong seethed as angry tears stream down his face. His face was red and the staff made sure to stay out of his way as he started walking to the dressing room.
The three guys heard everything from their shared dressing room and they all snickered. "He deserved it." Daesung said.
"True." Youngbae nodded. "What's Y/N up to?"
Daesung shrugged, "She never replied. I'm guessing she's asleep now."
You weren't.
You saw the post.
You saw the comments.
You were numb.
You didn't want to face anyone, so you turned off your phone and curled up in bed. You turned to face Jiyong's side of the bed and sighed as nw tears streamed down your face. "Why did we have to end up this way?" You whispered and cried to yourself. You never expected your marriage to go south the way it did. You cried yourself to sleep and by the time Jiyong came home, his eyes were like yours. He wasn't even sure what he's crying about. He glanced at the door of your shared bedroom and stood outside for a while. He hesitated, but he reached for the doorknob and was surprised to see that it was unlocked; like it was left unlocked on purpose.
He opened the door and he saw your sleeping figure, hugging his pillow. He smiled sadly and went inside before closing the door behind him. He crouched down in front of your face and he gently brushed your hair away from your face. You stirred in your sleep and Jiyong froze. You slowly opened your eyes and stared at him.
"You were always a light sleeper." He said softly.
"You cried." You stated. He nodded, "You did too."
Both of you stared at each other in silence. Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, but you were so tired of crying. You've already been crying for months.
"I'm-" Jiyong started, his voice cracking a little bit. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Truly."
"That's all I wanted to hear, Ji." You croaked out as you cried in front of him. Seeing you like that made him cry too. He sat down on the bed as you sat up and looked at him. "You have no idea how long I've waited for an apology." You breathed.
"I'm sorry it took so long." Jiyong confessed. "I was just being prideful. I'm sorry for hurting you the way I did, Y/N. There's no excuse."
You cried and nodded. He pulled you in for a tight hug as both of you cried. It was messed up; you were hurt by the man you love, but he was the only one who could comfort you. He kissed the top of your head and pulled away, "I really did love you. Please remember that. I was just being a dick. I know you've seen the post. It was everywhere, after all."
You could only nod.
"I'm so sorry." He said.
"Ji, are you crying because you hurt me or are you crying because of your career?" You asked carefully, not knowing if he'll get angry.
"Both." He said, staring off into space. "I wish I never did what I did. I wish I just fixed it when you gave me he chance a few months ago. If I did, my career wouldn't end up like this."
You nodded slightly.
"I got your text, by the way." Jiyong said as he looked at you, eyes red and puffy. "Did you sign it?"
"I wanted to, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I know I said that I'd sign it, but I couldn't. It's so hard to do. This is the only love I've known, Ji. I can't afford to lose it."
"I think you should sign it, Y/N. You deserve to be happy; you deserve a do-over. I'm aware of the shitty things I did now, so please accept the freedom I'm willing to give you. You can break free from this marriage and I'm allowing you to."
"But I still love you, Ji." You whimpered. Tears streamed down Jiyong's cheeks once more and he said, "And I'll always love you. I'll always have love for you and I'll forever see you as my wife. It's never a question of whether you still love me or not. I just want you to get away from all this and start new and I'll always support you whether you want to get married to someone else or not. You just deserve to be happy after all this shit."
"Take your time, my love." He added.
The next day, you woke up to a quiet apartment. You found yourself snuggly tucked in bed and you guessed Jiyong tucked you in after crying yourself to sleep. You got up from bed, stretched, and walked out of your cold room. Your feet padded on the cold floor and you heard voices coming from Jiyong's office.
You quietly opened the door and saw Jiyong standing up, facing the window, not knowing you were watching. His left hand was clutching his phone which was raised on his ear while his right hand was on his hip. He looked ghostly. His face was pale, he was skinnier than usual, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were tired and puffy. He looked... awful. You had never seen your husband like that.
"So what do you suggest I do?" Jiyong asked, his voice hoarse. "I didn't even post that shit. It's all that girl's fault."
He paused before he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled with a loud huff, "No, I don't have contact with her anymore. I deleted her contact this morning, but before I deleted it, I asked her to take down the post and thankfully, she did. I know it doesn't fix anything because it's most likely everywhere at this point, but at least the source of it is deleted.... No, I broke it off with her already.... Y/N? Let's not talk about her. She's already hurting. I don't want her dragged around for this. I messed up big time, but she's still my wife. Even I'm not that cruel."
He turned his head and saw you standing by the door. He gave you a tight lipped smile, "Let's talk about this later. I have stuff to deal with right now. I think it's best if we just let it die down before I clear anything up.... Alright. Bye."
He hung up before he walked towards you, "I didn't know you were up."
"Yeah, I just woke up." You whispered and he nodded.
"I hope you're hungry. I cooked breakfast." He said softly as he walked past you with you trailing behind. When you reached the dining area, he motioned for you to sit down as he filled your plate with the food he cooked. "I, uh, I looked up a few recipes. I hope the seaweed soup I made is at least up to par." He said shyly, chuckling to himself. He laid down your plate in front of you and to his credit, it smelled good. You watched as he filled his plate and both of you sat down.
The food was surprisingly good. You ate in silence, neither of you wanted to address the elephant in the room. When he was done eating, he stared at you as you ate slowly.
"I bought us some ice cream. I'll go get it." He said before he rushed off to get it from the freezer. When he came back with ice cream, you were already finished eating.
As soon as both of you were done eating ice cream, Jiyong cleared the table and washed the plates. He even cleaned the table and filled your glass with water.
"If you need anything, just knock on my door. I'll just do damage control. Meanwhile, please don't go online." He pleaded.
"I never intended to." You said.
He nodded, "Good. Keep yourself busy." He turned and went straight to his office to make a few calls. You heard him shut the door and sighed before going to your room and packed a few of your things to send to Daesung's place.
Later that day, Jiyong issued an official apology to you, the boys, his management, and his fans. He told everything from the beginning; from when he first cheated until the most recent. If your Instagram notifications weren't going off before, they were now.
-
You signed the divorce papers three days later. When you did, Youngbae and Seunghyun decided to pick you up from your shared apartment. Jiyong watched as the guys took some of your things; the things that are already in boxes. They all glared at him and didn't say anything.
Well, at one point, Youngbae said, "You're not the man I grew up with. I truly hope I get to see him again, but I guess now isn't the time."
That stabbed Jiyong's heart.
When they were done, you and Jiyong stared at each other. "I hope you'll be happy. Daesung's place is pretty cozy." Jiyong said softly.
You nodded, "I hope you'll be happy as well. I know how hard you worked for your career to happen and I hope you don't lose the fire you have in you."
"Thank you for everything, Y/N. I wish things were different, truly." He smiled softly. "Best of wives and best of women."
You smiled at him as tears clouded your vision. "I wish things were different too. Thank you for everything."
You gave each other one last hug before you heard someone clear their throat. You both pulled away and saw Daesung leaning against the front door. "Wait downstairs, Y/N." He said coolly.
You nodded before glancing at Jiyong one last time and kissed his cheek. You grabbed your bag and walked past Daesung to go wait downstairs.
"Dae, you're here."
"Surprise." Daesung said in a low voice as he made his way towards Jiyong. "Congratulations on ruining your marriage, by the way. Here, I thought being stupid is just one thing, but you invented a new kind. It's obvious that you never thought anything through before that first mistake because you went and did it again and again. I thought songs were only stuck in replay, turns out mistakes can be in replay too."
"Daesung-"
"You just redefined what EVERYONE thought about you. Congratulations!"
"Hey, I sacrificed my career when I posted my apology! I sacrificed everything I worked hard for, Dae. Don't you realize that?!" Jiyong shouted.
Daesung scoffed, "Sacrifice? You don't know the meaning of that. Sacrifice is everything that Y/N did for you. She stayed married to you even after you asked for a divorce, she sacrificed her career to be a full time mother to Seo-yeon and a full time wife to you, she spent many nights alone in your bed because you were either on tour or fucking someone else in a hotel room, she sacrificed her mental wellbeing just to keep you, and she sacrificed herself just to be seen by you."
"This is how you repay her? Fuck you. I know you never expected me to come here, but I am and I'm not here for you, Jiyong." Daesung glared, his words full of venom. "I know Y/N like I know myself. You'll never find anyone like her and when she told me that night that she liked you, I stood by and SACRIFICED my feelings for her just to see her happy with you. Do you know why I did that?"
Jiyong stayed silent.
"It's because I love her. I love her more than life itself and I will always, always choose her happiness and wellbeing over mine every single time. Whether you admit it or not, Y/N's the best thing that ever happened to both of us, so don't you ever forget that you've been blessed with the best wife and fumbled it." Daesung finished. He looked at Jiyong up and down before saying, "Good luck in life."
With that, Daesung turned around and left, leaving Jiyong standing in a half empty apartment.
-
A/N: you ask, i deliver. hope you enjoyed part 4!
taglist for this series: @natalicss @aanaritt @amyyforshort @toxicghxst @multifanxtvshows @pinkpunkdynamite @jexify @cherryynoir @tessakleine @hayd3n8 @ellablah @crying497 @jenn2sec @manuzicaveyr @89ers231 @emmiesoverthemoon @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @kenqki
permanent taglist: @redhoodedtoad @billiesiousji @hayd3n8 @sherrayyyyy @nbjch05 @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten
jiyong taglist: @loveesiren
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revelboo · 23 days ago
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REVEL! I request some of the lost light starscream story 🙏
Absolutely been obsessed with your writing, i legit have been checking every hour to see if you’ve uploaded anything new. I’ve read probably everything you’ve posted except for the bumble bee stories, you’ve made me fall in love with so many characters, the way you write all of them is absolutely amazing. Also this your reminder to hydrate!
Yeah, Sundays aren’t usually good days
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Overdone Pt 3
Starscream x Reader
• Slumping into his chair behind his desk, he leans his chin on a fist as you ramble utter nonsense. Claiming you’d come to just falling to your death. Lies. They have to be, but then you’re turning big eyes his way and thanking him for saving your life and his wings flick. When’s the last time someone thanked him for anything? Shaking himself, he growls. Someone has to have put you up to this. “So I’m to believe you just teleported to Cybertron without meaning to, without even knowing how you accomplished it?”
• Staring up at his scowl, you understand why he doubts your story. It sounds crazy even to you, but you honestly don’t know how you ended up here. The only things you’re sure of? He’d saved you when he hadn’t had to. And that makes you sure he’s good deep down despite how intimidating he is, despite his threats to harm you if you’re a spy. Hands clasped together, you study him as his optics shutter and he presses his servos against them in an all too human gesture like he has a headache. “I swear I’m not a spy. I’m baker.”
• “And I can just take your word for it?” Everyone’s out to get him, to take away what he’s worked so hard for. But he can’t figure out the game here. Maybe you’re not a real human? Just something meant to look like one? Comming Rattrap, he vents when you just stare up at him with wide eyes. Why a human? Thundercracker is the one that cares for the little meat bags, not him. Anyone familiar with him would know that. ‘Bring me a scanner,’ he growls at Rattrap, cutting the connection without waiting for a reply.
• Of course, he doesn’t trust you, but you’re certain you can trust him. And short of him giving you a kitchen and baking supplies, you’re not sure how to prove your claim. You’re also not sure what a scanner is or who he was just talking to. What you are aware of? How massive he is. Alien and strange. His face, his body metal, but malleable. Able to give enough to form expressions and his hands had been warm holding you, making you painfully aware of how cold you are right now. “Why did you save me?” You ask almost against your will and his frown deepens.
• “Would have rather I let you make a very small splatter on the surface?” Growling, he turns toward the door when it opens and holds out a hand in demand. Aware of Rattrap gawking at you as he hands over the scanner. And you flinch when he powers it on and seizes you by the leg to drag you closer when you try to back away. Huffing through his vents at your little squeak when you fall on your butt and he pulls you closer. Your expression almost comically indignant when he scans you. Finding you really are just a human. You don’t even have any hidden tech meant to spy on him and he’s almost disappointed. Almost eager to root out a plot or a conspiracy. Tapping the scanner on the desk beside you to make you flinch, he vents. “Go find Wheeljack,” he mutters to Rattrap. Because you’re still a mystery he means to solve.
Previous
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solbaby7 · 2 months ago
Text
Calypso
pairing: azriel x reader
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warnings: swearing, angst, possible typos, violence
[ part 1 ]
Your family was hovering.
Exchanging worried looks amongst eachother as they partook in a mental conversation that you weren’t invited to but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The power inside of you had seemed to be asleep; tucked within the warmth of your vessel as you shuffled closer to Azriel.
His shadows were everywhere, pressing against every inch of available skin not only as a comfort but to shield your state from wandering eyes. Azriel knew his brothers meant no harm but his spine stiffened just a bit more when he’d catch them searching for injuries—as if some sort of explaination would be branded into your flesh.
He understood—really, he did.
Everyone wanted to know how you’d survived.
How you’d been hiding such power away for so long undetected.
But he couldn’t find the courage to ask any questions; too afraid he’d have to come to the horrifying realization that he’d almost lost you.
No. Azriel had lost you and yet some divine intervention had taken place, gifting him a second chance. His stomach plummets at the thought, shadows tightening their grip on you; tugging you in as close as you could get and still it didn’t feel close enough. “I’m right here,” You mutter just loud enough for your voice to break through the noise beginning to grow inside Azriel’s mind. A hand covers his own, a gentle squeeze to reiterate the words spoken but he can’t help but notice how cold your skin is.
You hesitate before crossing Autumn’s border, sparing a glance behind you when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, alerting you of a lingering presence. A brow raises, lids narrowing a fraction before the comforting darkness of Azriel’s shadows began to weave its web, calling you back home where you belonged. “I’ll find you,” A voice croons so whisper soft that you struggle to decipher if it was real or just a figment of your imagination. “You have my word.”
Protective instincts force you to answer the voice, nerves still raw from earlier and the rage refused to fully subside. “I’ll kill you. You have my word.”
The sterile stench of disinfectant burns. The walls are too white and everyone in it is entirely too quiet as they watch Madja work on you.
Sure hands run over the length of you, her powers searching for something wrong and yet after a thorough assessment—all she can offer the High Lord is, “Physically, she’s perfectly healthy.”
“You’re sure? Beron said that she—“ Rhys pauses briefly, painfully aware of Azriel’s eyes digging craters into the side of his face and he becomes more careful when he speaks. “You’re sure?”
“There’s not a scratch on her.” Madja shifts about the room, putting away equipment and removing sanitary gloves into the waste bin when she continues speaking. “I will say, her body is in a state of fight or flight. It appears as though her gifts are taking on new and unexpected manifestations—it’s morphed into some sort of defense mechanism that surpasses anything I’ve ever seen before. I couldn’t even get a needle to break through to draw her blood.”
You let out a humorless laugh, slouching further into the examination chair. “Seems a little late for that.”
Madja turns to face you, the picture of professionalism when she says your name gently. “How do you feel?”
“I feel…” Like you were still underwater. Like your body was still not your own, tainted by malice and such uncontainable anger. Shaky fingers curl into the fabric of Azriel’s cloak draped over your shoulders—the only anchor that seemed to keep the sensitive magic at bay. “Charged.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’ve been through a lot and that could just be a side affect of the adrenaline wearing off.” Madja shifts in place, intentionally ignoring the surveilling eye of your mate tracking her every move—monitoring her every word like his life depended on it. “Can you tell me about what happened? Do you remember anything?”
Azriel bristles when your spine goes ramrod straight, subconsciously tucking the cloak closer to your body. “Nothing’s wrong with my head if that’s what you’re getting at. My memories are intact.”
“That’s good to hear,” Madja nods placatingly, fingers interlocking before her to seem less threatening and more comforting. “I was worried about possible brain damage which is consistent with drowning,” Your jaw clenches, a thick swallow rolling down your throat. “Lung damage as well but your breathing sounded clear and equal and there’s no obvious signs of residual deficits. I’d like to run just a few more tests, if that’s okay?”
A sharp nod of your head is the only answer you provide but when the door opens and one of Madja’s assistants is beckoned to come inside, the entirety of your body language changes.
Azriel feels his own hackles raise as you surveil the newcomer with a hunters eye. “This is August,” Madja introduces swiftly, moving the lean male to the left and its second nature the way he flits about her; retrieving paperwork to neatly arrange back in its folder. “He’s here because I’d like to see if your magic is just blocking me out—or everyone.”
Rhysand shifts in place as he watches you and the way you refuse to answer, utterly fixated on August and the nervous tremble of his fingers when he stands a bit too close. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“It’ll be fine,” Madja assures, standing right before you with her hands hovering at both sides of your head. “I have theory, I just need to try something first.” Everything seems to be going just as planned, the familiar push of healing magic creating a gentle pressure at the edges of your consciousness as it seeks out an injury to fix.
It’s almost soothing, enough to have your eyes fluttering shut and the rigid line of your spine starts to relax when a foreign touch is detected.
The reaction is immediate and completely involuntary. Madja is shoved out of your way as a gust of power projects from your form like a wave; providing the room necessary to pounce on August like a leapord who’d been stalking their prey and finally found the right moment. It’s borderline feral the way you snap at him, pinning his arms under your knees to ensure he couldn’t touch.
“Just as I suspected,” Madja doesn’t appear the slightest bit phased, quietly thanking Rhysand for breaking her fall.
Azriel’s reaction is less tame, his features clouded in shadows when he retrieves you, all the fight dissipating the second a fair distance is established. “Are you out of your mind? She could’ve killed him.”
“But, she didn’t,” Madja murmurs, scribbling words on a page while August dusts himself off. There’s no real damage to either of them but the intensity of your retaliation is enough to have Cassian and Rhysand creeping closer cautiously. “I suspect that her magic has gone on the defensive, almost as if it’s its own sentient being protecting its host. She sustained a trauma which pushed it to the forefront of her mind—taking the reins in a sense.” Madja looks up from her notes, curiosity shining in her eye when she examines you from afar. “It’s protecting her from anything it doesn’t deem safe.”
“Anything it doesn’t deem safe?” Cassian repeats, the hairs from his bun falling free and teasing at the stubble of his jaw. “That’s vague.”
“That’s besides the point,” Rhysand quickly averts, only stepping as close to you as Azriel will allow. There’s a softness to his expression, one that appears almost shy when directed your way. “This doesn’t sound anything like the power you’ve showed before. So, I have to ask if something else happened there—in Autumn?”
The examination room reeks of antiseptic but the low hues of the faintly glowing faelight is comforting enough. Either way, you can’t help the way your eyes flick to Madja and August but they too are soon ushered away the moment Azriel notices.
You gulp audibly, fingers fiddling in your lap as the tense posture you previously wore fades altogether. “I wasn’t lying when I said my memory is intact. Completely intact.” A shaky breath is inhaled, toes wiggling in the compression socks Madja had all but forced Azriel to shove on your feet the moment you’d stepped an inch within the doors. “I remember dying. But, I also remember someone else being there, a female who felt me and brought me back.”
“Brought you back how?”
Your eyes lock on your mate; the physical embodiment of strength and that alone encourages you to scrounge up the courage to continue. “She heard me somehow—I was screaming for help and she heard me and right when I thought it was too late, I felt this…surge.”
Rhys’ lids lower into a squint. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, it was just a feeling.” It’s difficult describing the exact sensation that had flowed through you, coating every limb in a caress that wasn’t quite caring. It edged the border of possessive when sealing up your broken pieces. “As if I’d been given more.”
Cassian’s head tilts to the side, arms crossed over his chest while he takes it upon himself to guard the door. “More power?” His brows scrunch in thought. “I guess that could explain what happened once we found you.”
“She did something to me out there,” You confess, staring at your hands as if the answers would somehow be deciphered within the lines of your palms. “My magic feels different inside me—like it’s changed.”
“Show me.” Rhysand demands without question, ignoring the low growl his brother releases, displeasure clear at the tone of his voice.
There’s a pause, slowly bringing your eyes to your High Lord. A shaky breath is released, hands wringing out stress as you lean into the warmth of Azriel behind you. “Respectfully, no.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’d never disobey a direct order so please don’t make me.” The struggle in your words is evident, limbs trembling as you strain to grab ahold of the leash within you. To wrap it around your fist and command the reigns but the leather fits differently than it did before, the aches and pains from such a growth spurt is thoroughly uncomfortable. “The answer is no. I’m not in control.”
Azriel’s gaze snaps down to you with an intensity you’re eager to avoid. “You’re sure?”
You shuffle under all the attention, desperate for a bath and a glass—no, pitcher of wine to drown out the buzzing beneath your skin. It felt too tight over your flesh; stretched thin and rubbed raw as the entity beneath acclimates to its new enclosure.
It makes it hard to breathe properly, each exhale just as sharp as your inhale. “Positive.”
The most fascinating thing about trauma, is the way it disperses throughout the body; it lingers in your tissues—saturates your bloodstream until your entire chemical makeup shifts.
It leaves a brand.
One that has your spine stiff with tension at something as normal as Cassian and Rhysand walking behind you. Before, it’d be comforting—their presence straying a few steps behind. But your ears keep fixating on the sound of Cassian’s sword shifting against its leather holster. Heavy boots crushing fallen branches and crispy leaves. Normal, mundane things that now have your heart smacking against your ribcage, palms sweating and instincts on overdrive with nowhere to release the accumulated adrenaline.
Suddenly, you’re grateful that there’s no way to directly winnow back home, greedily sucking up as much fresh air as possible in attempts to soothe the way your belly churns. The anxiety refuses to subside no matter how many calming breaths you take. Your chest begins to heave, the wind whistling white noise against sensitive eardrums and regardless of the steps you count, you remain uncomfortably aware of your stress.
“You okay?” Az prods, voice nothing more than a whisper.
Your grip on his bicep tightens, dread building in your gut with each passing moment until you’re physically unable to move another inch closer to the townhouse. “I can’t go home.” It’s said as more of a confession than anything else, drawing the attention of the two guarding your flank. “It’s not safe.”
Guilt riddles his features for a split second before it’s shadowed by something akin to determination. “I will never let anything happen to you ever again.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” You swallow thickly, sweat beading at your hairline with the effort it takes to shove that overwhelming power down into its box. Even then the lid refuses to close, the entity within banging against the walls and thrashing its fists for release. “I’m saying, you won’t be safe there with me.”
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organic-bloodbath · 1 month ago
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Can you do a part three for Teach Ddakji to me plz
Teach Ddakji to me - Part 3
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The Salesman x American!Reader
Summary: A stranger leads you towards unfolding the secrets of the man you've fallen in love with.
A/N: My people has been begging and i shall serve. Once again, i do not know what the hell i'm writing so i'm just vibing.
Part 1 - Part 2
♡♡
"I can explain," he said, putting the glasses and bottle on a side table. You kept holding the gun with your fingers.
"Yes?"
"It's only for protection, i promise," he insisted. "And it's not loaded."
You were silent, not sure exactly what to do or say.
He sighed. "When my dad was shot, i sort of got a gun to feel safer. He was killed in his own home, so getting a gun meant i could defend myself if anyone came here and tried to harm me as well."
You looked at him suspiciously, narrowing your eyes.
"I haven't used it, i swear," he promised, taking a step closer to you. You let out a sigh.
"Okay," you mumbled and shook your head. "Well, okay, i suppose."
He slowly put his hand on yours, grabbing the gun from your hold. You eventually let go of it and let him have it back.
"I can take it elsewhere if you're more comfortable then," he offered, afraid this was going to scare you away. You nodded and he went to take it to another room where you wouldn't have any business walking into.
You had never been a fan of guns. You knew people in the U.S. who had a gun at their homes but your family had never been one of those, as far as you were aware of.
You did feel bad and had sympathy for him the longer you thought about it. You couldn't imagine how bad trauma you would have if your own father was murdered, you didn't think you would be able to live anymore. You couldn't blame him for having sleepless nights and afraid for his own safety after that.
To be honest, if that happened to you, you would have gotten some sort of weapon into your home too, just in case someone would come after you too.
Soon he came back, a nervous look on his face now when he approached you slowly.
"Hopefully that didn't ruin the night?" he asked carefully and stepped in front of you.
"Do you have others in your house?" you asked. "Or like, anywhere?"
"That's the only one," he immediately swore.
He put his hand on your cheek and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. His warm touch always managed to relax and calm you down, forget all the worries in the world for a moment. He looked at you with all his love and kindness in his eyes, and you knew you could trust him.
"Let's grab the wine, hm?"
"Okay."
♡♡
He was meant to keep his work a secret from you. You couldn't find out about what he really did, no. You would instantly leave him, that was for sure, and he didn't want to think about that possibility. He only had to come up with more and more lies - but for how long? How long could he really keep up this facade around you? He had turned his back away from you for only one moment at his house and you already managed to find one of his guns.
Or would you leave him? Would you be okay with it after all? It would be so much easier to be able to explain everything to you. But he also knew he had to keep the games secret from any outsiders who wouldn't take a part in the game.
The look on your face haunted his mind the next day as well. You had looked at him in a way like you didn't know who you were dating after all.
And for the most parts, you didn't.
The look on your face had told him loud enough that he couldn't tell you about his true self – not now or in a long time.
Along with that, he had felt someone watching him outside. He wasn't sure who it could be, but he was certain that he was being followed by someone and he didn't like that feeling at all.
He had to find out who was trying to shadow him.
♡♡
The three of you were supposed to go for a dinner together soon, but your brother had to cancel last minute and changed the plans for tomorrow, making you frustrated.
"I'm so sorry, something came up," he had texted. "Let's meet up tomorrow, okay?"
There was always something that 'came up' when you tried to make plans with him. You tried to question what he meant but he wouldn't tell you, preferring to stay all secretive to his sister.
As you were driving home in the car your friend had borrowed you to use for a week, you were falling into your thoughts a little too hard, not paying as much attention to your surroundings as a good and responsible driver should have. Sooner than you realised, you were stopped by a traffic cop and had to pull over.
You saw a man look at you through the window, motioning you to roll your window down.
He said something in Korean to you which you couldn't really understand. He switched to English as he figured you were a foreigner.
"License, please?"
You grabbed it from your purse and handed it to the man.
"You were speeding a little," he stated.
"I know, i'm really sorry, i wasn't thinking."
"I'll have to write you a ticket, miss," he said seriously.
"I know," you sighed and closed your eyes, laying your forehead against your hand. "I really am sorry, i didn't mean to."
"Are you feeling alright?" the cop asked, a hint of worry in his voice – but only a little bit.
"Yeah, yeah, no problem."
Truth to be told, you weren't entirely fine. You had slept only couple of hours and had drank almost an entire a bottle of wine last night. You weren't really hangover right now, just suffered from a bad headache, for which a painkiller hadn't helped.
"Are you sure you're able to drive further?" he tried to confirm, unsure if he should just let you go with the ticket without questioning you further.
"I'm sure," you said but didn't sound believable even to your own ears.
"Could you step out of the car, please?"
You let out a deep breath and opened the door, stepping outside. He stood right in front of you, trapping you between himself and the car. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket.
"Follow the light with your eyes."
You did as you were told, trying to act as cool as possible. You had been only once before pulled over on the road by a cop and that had been in America. You hadn't been sure if the protocols in Korea would be the same.
He turned the flashlight off and put it back into his pocket.
"Alright, you can go now," he nodded. Thank god he didn't actually believe you had been drunk driving.
Looking at his face closer, you could see that he was young and very handsome. If you weren't in a relationship and would have met him somewhere more... relaxed environment, you could imagine yourself starting a nice chat with him.
"Thank you, officer," you said politely in Korean before stepping back into the driver's seat, slipping the ticket into your purse. You tried to make atleast a little better impression with your poor Korean skills but weren't sure how correct the pronunciation really was.
"Have a good day, miss. And do pay your ticket on time."
♡♡
"Had a fun and eventful night with your man, i hope?" your roommate asked, one eyebrow up and teeth biting her lip to hide her smirk, failing on the simple task.
"Sure did," you answered and managed to make yourself smile. You wouldn't mention the gun part of the night to her, trying to brush the entire thing off your mind. "How about you? Found a hot guy at the club?"
"Oh, i definitely did," she answered. "He's some sort of a rapper, i think, though i had never heard of him. He gave me his phone number if we should catch up again some other day."
"Mhm, he gonna take you on a date?"
"Oh god no, all i want is to get into a bed with him again. He knows what he's doing," she stated seriously. "Besides, romantically i'm into more mature men, like that your hottie. Unfortunately you can't really find those men at the clubs where people our age go to."
Your roommate had met him a few times, but rather quickly, they hadn't had the chance to actually get to know each other since you didn't really bring him inside your apartment longer than a few minutes when he would come pick you up or bring you back home. But when he had met your roommate, he had acted as the most charming version of himself, like a man would act around a girl's parents when he'd meet them for the first time.
♡♡
"Okay, darling, i need to go to work for a few hours now to settle a few things," he said later that day as you were walking on the street together, his hand holding yours. He leaned down to kiss you on your lips.
"Come pick me up afterwards?" you asked with a smile.
"Of course, see you then," he smiled, pressing one more kiss on your lips, and turned his back to you, disappearing behind the next corner.
You took your phone from your pocket and was browsing a song on Spotify to listen to, until a man stopped you, stepping in front of you.
"Excuse me," the man said, making you turn around to face him. "You were with a man just a moment ago, dressed in a suit, right?"
"Um," you started, brows furrowed in confusion. "What's this about?"
"You were with a man in a suit?"
"Yes, but i-"
"Listen, i really need to find him. He's uh... a colleague of mine," he explained. "And i need to see him as soon as possible."
"Why do you need to see him?"
"We have some business to do. Work related," he quickly answered.
"Don't you have his phone number? Work phone or something?"
"I got a new phone and lost it."
"Just call to your workplace, maybe they can-"
"I don't have the time right now," he said, startling you with the tone of his voice. He noticed it and lowered his voice a little, not meaning to freak you out. "Could you just point the way, please?"
"Well, he didn't really say where he was going. Only that he had to go to work. Can't you meet him there?"
You narrowed your eyes, you could tell he acted very suspiciously. Did this man really know him? He had sounded so hesitant when telling how he knew him. Usually you weren't able to tell very easily when someone was lying to you, but right now even you could tell his behavior and reactions were too odd.
Besides, this guy was complete opposite than the man you knew, by the looks of him atleast. If they worked together and were on their way to work, you'd imagine this stranger would wear a suit too or something similar and cleaner.
♡♡
Gi-hun could tell that you were completely oblivious about the Recruiter or otherwise you were just a good actress to hide his secrets, refusing to tell his location. But you had looked completely lost with Gi-hun's approach to you and the talk about the man's work.
To be fair, he did probably look like a crazy person so he couldn't exactly blame you for not giving the information he so desperately needed.
Gi-hun hadn't thought about the Recruiter's private life, of course not, so it was strange to see a woman kiss him and hold his hand. He always seemed like only a pawn in this sick game to other people, since Gi-hun didn't even know his name either. The Recruiter always wore that same suit too, he felt like some sort of a default character in a game who had no proper development.
Which he basically was.
Gi-hun had lost his contact to the men he had hired to track down this man, until finally, his phone rang again.
♡♡
Of course you had grown too curious and suspicious about this stranger that you had to follow him wherever he was going.
Was it a good idea? Probably not, but you were still going to do it. It slowly started to rain, and of course you didn't carry an umbrella with you.
The man got a phone call, but you couldn't fully understand what he was saying since he spoke in Korean. You had studied Korean the best you could during the months you had been here and a little before you left America, but you couldn't translate complete conversations in your mind in just a few seconds. But you could hear some familiar words in the man's speech here and there. You could have probably understood more if he talked more slowly.
Where?
What?
Hotel?
Four?
The tone of his voice sounded panicked and rushed too, even more making you curious.
After a while he finished the call and put his phone back into his pocket. He started walking fast around the corner, soon starting to move faster and faster.
You quickly ran after him. You tried to make sure that he wouldn't see you if he happened to glance back over his shoulder, but you also couldn't lose the sight of him. You weren't exactly the fastest runner and would be out of breath soon, but luckily the distance to the destination wasn't too large.
Eventually, you ended up by a building, a hotel or hostel of some sorts. He went to the back of the building through a side alley, not entering through the front doors, which seemed to be locked by chains.
When you entered the hotel inside, you had lost the man, but you knew for sure that he had arrived here as well, right before you, so he couldn't be very far.
There was nobody else around, the place was totally empty, most of the lights were out and there were no sounds around you, forcing you to tiptoe even quieter not to make yourself known to anyone else possibly here. You didn't want a guard to find you trespassing, if there was one.
You started walking up the stairs, slowly and as quietly as possible, heart racing so fast you were afraid someone could hear it if they stood too close to you. You unintentionally held your breath as well out of this thick suspense what was going on.
Maybe this was completely unrelated to the man you loved. Maybe something else had come up with him and you were following a stranger somewhere private like a creep. Would this end up being a trap of some sorts?
Then, you heard speech somewhere in the fourth floor and walked towards the noise with even slower steps.
You were approaching one of the rooms where you heard two men talking to each other now much more clearly – the walls of this building seemed to be as thin as paper, since you had heard them already further away.
But then you noticed that the door wasn't closed, so you could easily open it without a sound and peek inside the room.
Two men were sitting at a table on the opposite sides, facing each other. It was that same man who had stopped you on the street. Your eyes widened on what you were witnessing right now.
He had a gun in his hand. It wasn't the same revolver which you had seen in his house.
"I used to work at the game too," he explained to the man with a calm voice. "Clearing and burning countless of bodies of people like you. I remember thinking: 'These things aren't human. They're just trash, they have no purpose in this world.' That's what i kept telling myself for a few years. One day they gave me a gun. I liked the way it felt. It was like someone had finally acknowledged my existence." He leaned back in his chair. "I don't know what year it was, but there was a man who lost, and i went over to shoot him. I recognised his face. Guess who it was?" He now leaned towards the man opposite him, his voice turning into a mere whisper, and you weren't sure if you heard it correctly or just imagined it. "My dad." You noticed a small smile lingering on his lips. "I was pointing the weapon at my very own father. And he begged me, tears in his eyes, to spare his life. You know what i did?" In under a second he lifted the gun and pointed it right towards the other man's face, who didn't even flinch. "I shot him right in the middle of his forehead and i realised: 'Huh, i guess i really am good at this'."
Your blood ran cold and all you wanted to do was to run away, but your legs refused to move at all. They shared a few more words but you couldn't concentrate on their conversation anymore. You felt like you weren't able to breathe. The ground beneath your feet was slowly failing you.
The next time you looked towards them, he pressed the gun on the man's forehead again, now actually pulling the trigger, making you slightly jump from the noise.
You were frozen on your place. What the hell were you supposed to do in this situation? Run away, confront them or call someone for help?
But as he moved the gun towards himself, inserting the gun deep inside his mouth, a playful smirk on his face, you had to act.
You tried to say something as you stepped towards the table from the shadows, finally able to make yourself move before he would be able to pull the trigger, but you couldn't get a word out of your mouth.
He let the gun slowly fall out of his mouth and his entire face turned pale like a ghost as he realised who had joined their little game. When his eyes met yours, you noticed something red on his cheek, and you instantly thought of it being someone else's blood, the same red splattered on the collar of his white shirt.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?"
This was the man who you had fallen in love with. A man who took you on sweet dates, took you into his warm embrace as you slept with him in the same bed, kissed you both softly and with passion... a man who opened up to you about his father's death and how someone had murdered him coldblood.
The murderer had been him all along. How could you be so naive and dumb? Had there been red flags which you had just missed?
Other than the damn gun at his house.
But now there sat only a man just couple of metres away from you who had just confessed on shooting his own father with his own gun. Pulling the trigger himself. And he had told it with a smile on his face.
He had lied to you this entire time. You wanted to shout and yell at him, then run away, but you couldn't move your body. Until he stood up.
Instantly, without hesitation you took a step back as he took one towards you, which made his heart break.
♡♡
A/N: I'm not sorry about the ending 🙂‍↔️ the last scene is obviously not 100% accurate to the show. Next part will take a while too so be patient with me 🫶🏻 if you want to be added or stay on the taglist, lmk.
Tags:
@k1ra-park3r
@aftersnrise
@sakurayashiro
@zmbiefiend
@preppyfella
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thesightstoshowyou · 7 months ago
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No Questions Asked
Ledger!Joker x F Reader
- Chapter One -
(Chapter Two)
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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saeun · 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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didishawn · 3 months ago
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Leganés (Pedri x Reader)
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warnings: lots of spanish, whatever last night was, angst because of the team's results, comfort, really short because I have to get back into the grind
Masterlist
"Te juro que me parece de coña ya esto" you watched as you boyfriend stomped around the room, face flushed and anger in his tone as he spoke. (I swear this feels like some sick joke)
Another loss for Barcelona, more dropped points, only 1 game won out of the last five, the perfect October run so far away.
They were in good shape in the Champions, but what did it matter when it felt as if they were throwing away La Liga?
"Y es que encima parece que siempre me toca a mí hablar tras toda la mierda de los partidos, ¿no me pueden dejar llegar tranquilo a casa para llorar?' (To add to it, it seems it's always my turn to speak after these shitty matches. Can't they just let me peacefully come home to cry?)
You hated seeing him like this, he loves Barça and it breaks him whenever things go like this.
He could have been the best on the pitch, yet he always blames himself.
"Si es que soy inútil, ni un gol puedo meter para ayudar al equipo, ¿de que mierda me sirven todos los pases si no puedo encarar a portería?" (I'm useless, can't even score a goal to help the team, what are all those shitty passes for if I can't serve when facing the goalie?)
"Pepi, sabes que no es tu culpa. Hay veces que no se da y no por eso tenemos que perder la fé, todavia queda mucha liga por delante" (Pepi, you know its not you fault. Sometimes things just don't go your way but it doesn't mean we have to lose faith. There is still so much of the league to look forward to)
"Joder pero si es que parecemos dos equipos completamente distintos aquí que en Champions" he sighed, dropping next to you in the couch, head resting on your shoulder "Encima verás Flick mañana, voy a llegar sin piernas a casa, encima nos lo merecemos" (Fuck but it's as if we were two completely different teams here than in Champions... You will see Flick tomorrow, I will be coming back home without legs, and it's worse because we actually deserve it)
"Solo os tocará dejar de confiaros tanto a veces, y dejad de veniros tan abajo, un gol no es el fin del mundo, y al final todos son capaces de remontar" (You all just have to stop being so overconfident, and also stop depressing yourselves, a goal it's not the end of the goal and in the end, everyone can do a comeback)
"Espero que sepas que me tendrás que hacer de portera en casa hasta que me veas metiendo 5 goles por partido" he burrowed his face on your neck, you knew that meant a topic change. (I hope you know you will have to play goalkeeper until you see me scoring 5 goals per game)
"Vamos a dejar a Robert sin trabajo" (We will leave Robert jobless)
You knew how hard it was all for him, he was finally coming back from all those injuries, was playing the best he had in almost years, and to see all his hard work not giving him the expected results, it was depressing him, harming him. You sometimes wished it could always be just you and him cuddling in your couch, no preoccupations to harm you.
You believed in your boyfriend, he only had to believe in himself too, because the problem with Pedri was just that.
Doesn't matter if he had the whole world praising him, if he lost, even if he was playing with a team in the seventh division of some lost country -not the case, you know the team just didn't have the night, Pedri would blame himself even if he scored 100 goals and they lost against 101.
You felt him sigh against your shoulder. His anger phage was over at least, grumpy one starting.
"...¿Querés jugar al FIFA tú como el Barça y yo como el Leganés y destrozarme?" (...You want to play FIFA you as Barça and me as Leganés and completely destroy me?)
"Si, por favor" (Yes, please)
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sc0tters · 2 months ago
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Littlest C | Alex Turcotte
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summary: at the lake house is it finally time for you both to confront your feelings, or just remain roommates forever?
request: yes/no
trope: brothers best friend
warnings: minimal swearing
word count: 3.15k
authors note: I haven't written for Alex in a long time and I have to say out of all of the 500 celly pieces that were left needing to be writte, this was one of the ones I most looked forward to. Luke and Trevor in this might have been my favourite things to write.
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You were always meant to just be Cole’s little sister. 
The one who tried so desperately to join in on those late night games of pool that the boys had in the basement. The one who remained Cole’s biggest supporter throughout his career and the events leading up to it. 
You were meant to be this untouchable entity that he had promised to protect with his life as you settled into LA. Now ten months in with you living down the hall in his apartment, Alex was ready to butcher that promise entirely. 
Not because he wanted to put you into harms way, but instead because he was craving your company in a way that would make Cole put him six feet under. Alex found you changing from his best friend’s little sister, who he remembered with braces and those godawful comebacks when Cole pushed your buttons. Now you were freshly twenty and in the thick of college, and a full on woman. Possibly not in the form of experiences but you had grown into your body and now had this fiery personality.  
You made Alex feel weak in the knees 9/10 times but as time went on, he knew he was fucked. Because for him, you were all that he wanted. 
So with the constant thought of Cole literally killing him, Alex started to pull away from you about three months ago. Sure he couldn’t make it too obvious as he still had to live under the same roof as you, but he started to realise that it was a lot easier if he spent nights away from you. Having a girl in his bed that wasn’t you, made it just bearable to push you out of his mind. And it helped that you were close to finishing your semester.
It was a plan that actually managed to work, or at least it did until the both of you ended up at the lake house, where the risks increased tenfold when you seemed to only pack swimsuits. This year Luke had invited you along as your brothers spent so much time together, it was only right that the two of you eventually became friends “Lukey!” Your cheered seeing the boy walk out of the house. 
His grin matched yours as he practically raced down the stairs, leaving his brother’s friends up on the porch “took you damn long enough.” He laughed pulling you into a hug “yeah don’t worry bout me, I’ll get all your damn bags.” Cole grumbled, breaking your hug as you tuned to look at your brother. 
There was a shit-eating look on your face “since you asked so nicely.” You joked taking your bag from the older boy. 
Alex stood on the porch as his eyes turned to a scowl watching the scene unfold in front of him. He was jealous of the fact that you seemed to be so free when you hugged Luke. The smile on your face as the boy nodded along to whatever you whispered in his ear “missed me Turcotte?” You teased now stood in front of your roommate. 
The familiar scent of your perfume was captured in his nostrils as he shook his head “please I get to now sit in silence.” His words were cheerful as you reached over to flick his arm with a scoff. 
It was masked by a grin that spread across your face “know ya missed me.” Your voice was soft as you pulled him into a hug, he knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but want to moan at the smell of your familiar shampoo. 
The very same shampoo that he had used the last three weeks before he left the apartment because of how much he had missed you. Cole gagged at the sight “you want to let go of each other, or should we just stand out here all day?” His question made Trevor smirk as he saw how Alex’s cheeks turned red when he let his arms drop from around you as you rolled your eyes “don’t be jealous your friends like me more than you.” You were amused as Cole put his sweaty hat on your head which made you groan. 
That made the boy laugh “it’s good to be back!” Cole cheered as he walked into the house. 
Luke walked up and grabbed your bag from you “we are in a new room this time.” He was excited to show the girl the room as this year they weren’t fighting the other guys for the bathroom this year.
Trevor kept Alex on the porch as the rest of the group trickled inside. He had seen how Alex’s eyes didn’t seem to leave you until you turned to go upstairs “you sure you aren’t sleeping with her?” The question made the hairs on the back of Alex’s neck stand up. It was something that the Ducks player had joked about more than once after he had seen you in one of Alex’s old Kings hoodies when you all went to dinner. What he refused to believe was the fact that you were cold, and it was the only thing that was in Alex’s car.
But as Alex stayed silent it made the younger boy think that he was right “I don’t give a shit.” Trevor confessed as he was just more curious as to if he was indeed right or not “I just don’t think that it would be the best thing if Cole found out.” Alex felt his cheeks turn red at the idea of Cole finding out. Because if Trevor connected the wrong dots, then who was to say someone wouldn’t connect the right ones?
Alex shook his head “I am not sleeping with her.” He mumbled wishing that he could have been lying as he said that.
You were reminded of the joy of being with your best friend as he shut the door behind you both “you finally tell him?” Luke asked as he sat on his bed. 
He had known about the crush you had on Alex since you confessed to him about how you had a wet dream about the Kings player when he was thankfully on a roadie. Luke was able to remind you that it was a one-time thing, but then it became more like a weekly thing before you accepted that you definitely had feelings for him.
Luke had been convincing you that you needed to tell him about it before it was all too late, “I can’t,” you sighed, letting yourself drop onto the bed next to him “my friend found his profile on hinge, and he keeps on going on these dates.” You groaned, kicking your legs as Luke lay flat next to you.
The boy stared at the frown on your face “either tell him about how you want to rip his clothes off-“ his words were cut off when you grabbed the pillow from next to you and hit him with it. 
It made him laugh as he took the pillow and propped himself up with it “you didn’t have to say it verbatim.” He shot back, looking at your suitcase, “and if you don’t want to say it, then encourage him to be the one to do it.” Luke added, bending down to show you exactly what he had planned. 
It was day three of your time at the lake house and Alex hadn’t been able to interact with you much. Not out of choice though, because every time he wanted to talk to you Cole seemed to step in. And earlier that morning a boy from down the road seemed to pique your interest. 
His name might have been Brad, Chad, Thad or whatever, really. Alex just knew that he didn’t like the boy or how his eyes seemed to be stuck on your breasts. That part Alex couldn’t exactly blame him for because you knew how to pick a great bikini, but Alex at least knew you were so much more than just a good body. And that was something that this boy definitely didn’t appreciate.
The boys had finally left the house as they were going to a bar “you should come with.” The offer was sent with a smile but was cut short “sorry dude, we’re in the middle of a darts tournament.” Alex’s voice came from behind you. 
That was true, the last few evenings the guys had found that a game of darts was a great little competition “why don’t you just get Luke to stand in for you.” The boy in front of you ignored Alex “I’ve got bad aim.” Luke was definitely the worst out of all of you but you weren’t about to leave the boys.
When you let out a sigh Alex knew you were staying “maybe some other night?” You offered, which made the boy nod. Alex wanted to cheer as he saw ChadBrad, whom he now opted to refer to leave the house. 
Luke sent you a smile before he walked away from you both “you two seem to be close?” Alex was certain he knew the answer, but still he asked the question “he is a nice guy Al.” You shrugged as you placed your hands on your hips.
This felt like the longest you two had properly spoken since your arrival “you feeling neglected by me?” Alex wanted to scream, of course, but he opted to remain stoic “of some frat boy?” He forced out a laugh as he watched you lick your lips.
At that moment, he was so close to dropping his head to kiss that smirk off of your face “Turcs, you want a new beer?” Trevor called out as he walked into the room almost cutting himself off as he looked at the sight with a grin on his face “can get you something too if you want it.” His eyes locked with yours as you shook your head.
Your hand brushed against Alex’s side “I think Luke has my drink Z.” You nodded your head at him before you left the boys. 
It took him until you were no longer in earshot to turn back to Alex “if you’re not sleeping with her then you like her.” He finally connected the dots as his eyes lit up “shush!” Alex placed his hand on the younger boys mouth.
When it seemed that Trevor wasn’t going to talk anymore Trevor ran his tongue across his friend’s palm “ew!” Alex shrieked, almost jumping away when he wiped his hand on his shorts “you’re fucking disgusting.”  Alex grumbled as he shook his head. 
Trevor just smirked in response “take it she doesn’t know about it?” He asked as Alex scoffed “of course she doesn’t!” He went to hit him but when Cole walked into the lounge area making them both freeze.
Cole raised his eyebrows as he watched them both turn to him “you two are so weird.” Cole muttered to himself before he shook his head, turning back to go where he came from “you can’t tell anyone.” Alex warned Trevor knowing that all the boys could soon hear about it. 
He raised his hands in defence “my lips are sealed.” Trevor was honest as he said “all I ask is that if you end up dating her just let me be the godfather to your future babies.” The words made Alex groan as Trevor patted him on the back before he was left alone. 
The rest of that evening was calm, but by the next day Alex was ready to kill Trevor for the constant looks “how much are you putting in, sis?” Cole called out as you walked out of the sliding doors. 
You looked up from your phone as you smiled “for what?” You cocked your head seeing Quinn hold a notepad and pen “we are all betting on who is going to be the most drunk tonight.” He explained as you let out a soft laugh. 
The Fourth of July always seemed to be the day that everyone got flat-out drunk at the lakehouse. People played music till the early hours of the next morning, and drinking was a great partner to dancing till your feet hurt. 
Your fingers rubbed together “I’ll put twenty on Cole.’ You watched as your brother’s face dropped, acting as if you had just spoiled the ending of Game of Thrones again.
Quinn nodded, writing down your bet “let me get my wallet so I can cash in on this.” You grinned sending Cole a wink “I want to change my bet to be on her.” Was the last thing you heard before you went back into the house.
The place was empty with few reminders of last night’s dart game on the table as they had turned a shot glass into a miniature trophy for Quinn.
You walked out of the car wanting to grab your handbag “look dude I’m telling you I know what I am doing.” The boy you had been talking to was on the phone by his own car “I am gonna get her to fuck me by the end of the night, and then I’ll leave her.” His words made you freeze as you knew he was talking about you.
But it didn’t stop there “being around all those guys she has got to be easy.” You had finally had enough as you turned around to go back inside.
You walked straight into a chest that you recognised from many early mornings, rushing to get ready for lectures. Alex had been behind you after he saw you frozen on the porch when he went to grab his own wallet. Based on his reaction, he too, had heard the majority of what you had “sorry.” Your words were soft as you dropped the keys on the porch and pushed past him to go back into the house. 
Alex leaned down to pick them up as he knew what you needed to grab “what an asshole.” Sure, Alex loved being right, but at the point of you being hurt, he would have wished that maybe this time he was wrong.
You knew you were stupid for getting all upset about Micheal telling his friends that he thought he would get into your pants before the end of the night “there you are.” Alex let out a sigh as he saw you hidden between your bed and Luke’s “just wanted some quiet.” You confessed as you pursed your lips together making the boy frown when he placed your bag on your bed.
He could see the hurt that laced your face “he doesn’t know what he is talking about.” Alex mumbled making turn to look him in the eye. 
An irritated laugh escaped your lips “maybe he should have been.” You grumbled as you turned to finally face him “no any guy would be fucking lucky to have you.” He walked towards you but you still shook your head. 
The hockey player watched as you rubbed your face with your hands “you’re only saying that because you’re friends with Cole and are my roommate.” After all, it would have been a little weird if he agreed with the boy in front of you and with your brother steps away.
But still, he moved to sit in front of you “have you ever wondered why I started going on those dates when you broke up with your boyfriend?” Alex stood in front of you as you remained silent “cause it sure as hell wasn’t me trying to avoid you.” He laughed at the joke that you had created.
You crossed your arms still showing that you were irritated “you are on my mind all the damn time and it kills me.” The hockey player grabbed your hand and opened his legs to pull you closer to him “don’t say things you don’t mean Al.” Your voice was soft as your facial expressions softened. 
His head dropped to rest on the crook of your neck “I’m so fucking in love with you it makes me sick.” His words made your body squirm as you ran your fingers through his hair letting out a giggle. 
It made him look up at you with a confused look on his face “me telling you my feelings is funny?” He grumbled wanting to send you a glare. 
You brought your hand up to cup his cheek “thought you knew I broke up with him cause I started thinking bout you.” A smile formed on his face as he stood up straight “damn my girl is already smitten.” He teased as you rolled your eyes. 
The sound of fireworks having started already echoed in your ears “don’t remember that happening Turcotte.” Your words made him click his tongue “so you didn’t want to rip all my clothes off?” He teased making you realise that he had heard that conversation with Luke.
His smirk made you scoff “careful because I can go find Micheal still.’ You warned making him furrow his eyebrows “who?” He asked as if he had never heard that name in his life.
Your jaw fell agape “the fucking dude who said I’d be a good fuck tonight!” Your words made his eyes go wide “thought his name was Brad.” You laughed as you shook your head “Idiot.” You mumbled, leaning back in to kiss him again.
Your cherry lipgloss was sweet on his tongue as he gripped at your sides “has anyone seen my sister?” Cole’s words echoed through an open window as the two of you were reminded that you weren’t alone. 
The older boy pulled away from you as he smiled “think we should get you out there.” Alex tapped your ass as you gasped, “but first let me enjoy the peace with my girl once more.” He pulled you back into his arms knew this wasn’t a sight he was going to get used to. 
But as time went on and the relationship grew, and of course Cole tried to kill Alex many times. Alex believed that your relationship was built on the moment when it all became official. 
You swore he was sickly cheesy each time he spoke of the story, but Alex saw your relationship as fireworks. You made him feel the joys of each high and low, and it helped that you kept him in check because you’ve got a damn fiery tongue. 
But Alex wouldn’t have had it any other way, because he was in love with you and he wouldn’t have believed in soulmates if he didn’t have you. Because in the puzzle that was his life, you made him feel complete.
And it wasn’t to say that he wasn’t just as in love with you as you were with him because Alex would have followed you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.
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anyarose011 · 6 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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simplyraeblue · 6 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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fuck-you-upmusicbracket · 4 months ago
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Take Me To Church (Hozier)
I was born sick, but I love it/Command me to be well/A-, Amen, Amen, Amen/Take me to church/I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies/I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife/Offer me that deathless death/Good God, let me give you my life
“1. It’s Hozier, what do you expect? 2. Worship imagery... (I don’t know why I like it, but I do.)”
Against the Kitchen Floor (Will Wood)
And I swear! I will die trying!/I'm still in the process, but I'm making progress; I promise I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible, I swear!/I'm so fucking sorry! I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all, But someday I'll be perfect, and I'll make up for it all!
Less rare than scarce, less diamond then rough/Unlikely to be more than just the coal you failed to crush
I'm catatonic in your arms, crying, "How did I cause so much harm?"/I'm down pounding my head against the kitchen floor/Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours
The vertex of my redemption arc/I’m searching on that virgin heart
"The raw emotion! And I strongly relate to desperately wanting to improve for someone you love. I belt out this song when I feel really hopeless"
"my one OC. also me. also it's just a really good song. one of will's best imo. screaminbg"
"Literally hits almost all of my self-esteem issues. Feeling like people only care about you for your body? Check. Not understanding why anyone would want you? Check. Thinking that all you do is hurt people? Check. I don't cry very often but this song DEFINITELY made me teary"
"one of those if u aren’t paying attention to the lyrics ur like this is nice but once u hear them its an OW holy OW and guilt and I’m sorry feelings"
"Just. Loving someone but not feeling like you’re good enough and trying to improve."
"Not only does this song have lyrics that are deeply relatable to me, but this song also feels very deeply personal to the artist and I feel that anyone who listens to it for the first time has that same feeling of getting punched in the gut. Just the lyrics and the melody and Will Wood’s vocals make this song an absolute masterpiece and I cry every time I hear it."
"One reason I'm attached to this song is because my friend sent it to me and said "I'm kin assigning you this song" and ruined my life (/j) It messed me up because I've always had a hard time in my life figuring myself out and dealing with my emotions, and for what feels like the first time, this song has been able to near perfectly describe how I feel about myself and my impact on other people, and it always just meant so much to me that my friend who sent it to me knows me better than I know myself and shared the song with me and I love them dearly."
Against the Kitchen Floor submitted by @pixopolis + others
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just1cefor4ll · 3 months ago
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—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about
—modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. not proof read, might be OOC, swearing
part one || part two || part three
‼️A/N. if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this fic, let me know!! ‼️
‘I need someome to show me the things
in life that I can’t find.’
With a loud thud, Powder burst into the room, stumbling over her own feet and nearly causing your morning coffee to spill all over your art project—a project due in just under a week. "Powder! Jesus—slow down!" you exclaimed, letting out a frustrated groan as you steadied your coffee mug. Taking a long sip to steady your nerves, you swiveled in your desk chair to face her, one brow raised in curiosity. "So, what’s got you in such a rush?"
Powder was practically vibrating with excitement, her energy contagious enough to turn your initial annoyance into amusement. "You know that café with the whole vintage, 80s vibe you’ve been dying to visit?" she began, her tone filled with anticipation. Immediately, your ears perked up, and your confusion began to shift into hope. “Yeah, what about it? They’re always booked solid. Did something happen?” Instead of answering, she squealed with delight and shoved her phone in front of your face. On the screen was a reservation confirmation—a table for eight at 12 o’clock.
Your eyes widened as you did a double take. “No way.” Checking the time, you saw you had exactly an hour and fifteen minutes to get ready. Without hesitation, you pulled Powder into a quick hug and kissed her forehead before running off to prepare.
As you enter the bathroom you decide to style your hair in the way you always did for special occasions. It was a routine you knew by heart, and the familiarity calmed your excitement enough to let you focus. Opening your chaotic closet, you scanned its contents and grabbed the first outfit that caught your eye. You layered it with accessories that reflected your personal style before glancing at the clock. "Forty-five minutes," you muttered, impressed with your speed. Thankfully, waking up early to shower and do your skincare routine meant you had saved yourself a lot of stress—a rare victory you silently thanked your past self for.
Powder, now pacing the dorm trying to think of what to get at the café, noticed you were ready and practically dragged you to the full-length mirror she had insisted on bringing to your shared space earlier in the semester.
"Wait! Stay still," she commanded, snapping a quick picture of the two of you. You struck a playful pose at the last second, making her giggle as she added the picture to her camera roll, no doubt planning to post it later along with the many already planned ahead photo ideas she had in mind.
Powder grinned and grabbed your hand, practically bouncing out the door as you both made your way toward what promised to be an unforgettable day.
Oh and unforgettable it was.
You arrived at the subway station and met up with everyone— except Mel and Jayce who decided they’d go by car since it was the best possible option for them as they were out earlier that morning and were just 10 minutes away from your destination.
Viktor was seated next to you while the others had run off to find a place to sit in the packed space which had been a bit uncomfortable since everyone was standing body to body and god knows how many pervs were lurking around. You absentmindedly scooted closer to Viktor, bumping into his cane which almost hit the person standing next to you before you luckily caught it. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t thinking straight— shit, is it damaged or anything? I’ll buy you whatever you please at that cafe, I’m sorry.” You stuttered out, earning a teasing grin from Viktor. “No harm done, but if you’re offering..” You breathe out a relieved sigh, chuckling sheepishly; “I mean I don’t mind getting you something. It could be like a thanks for listening to me and my band play.” And with that, it was settled.
When the train pulled into your stop, everyone spilled out onto the platform. Ekko stumbled dramatically, throwing his arms up as if he’d just escaped certain doom. "Oh my god fresh air!" he exclaimed, drawing laughter from the group. “Alright, let’s go," Vi said in a commanding tone. "We’ve got twenty minutes until our reservation, so move it, squirts, and Vik." She said, Powder flipping her off as a faint; “Hey! Why’d you leave Viktor out of your pathetic try at an insult?” could be heard as all of them climbed up the stairs ahead of you and the man mentioned.
The walk to the café was surprisingly quiet, save for Powder and Ekko’s chatter. Viktor’s cane tapped rhythmically against the pavement, a sound that seemed to echo in the silence. You fiddled with your sleeves absentmindedly, still replaying your earlier clumsiness in your mind. Noticing your fidgeting, Viktor broke the silence. "I heard you’ve been wanting to visit this place since the start of the semester," he said, his tone more observational than questioning. You looked at him, caught slightly off guard by his comment. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice softening. "I’ve always loved the vibe. It’d be a dream to play there, but it’s just one of those things that probably won’t happen." Viktor frowned slightly at your words. "Why not? You’ve got the talent. And, dare I say, a very charming personality. There’s no doubt you could swoon the manager over and into giving you a gig—maybe even by next week."
His confidence in you made your cheeks flush, a shy smile spreading across your face. "Viktor, you really have a way with words it’s truly admirable," you said with a laugh. "You know, you’re the kind of person they’d write rock songs about."
Before he could respond, you giggled and darted ahead to catch up with the rest of the group, who were now gathered at the café’s entrance. Viktor watched you go, a faint smile playing at his lips before he made his way over to where Jayce and Mel were waiting.
The café was a dream come to life. Warm signs flickered gently against the dark wood walls, and the faint crackle of vinyl played on an old jukebox in the corner. Every detail—from the checkered floor to the vintage records and trinkets on the shelves.. it all felt so unreal. The stained glass also added on to the whole vibe, the colourful glass reflecting the suns beautiful rays onto the floor, walls and even booths giving it that magical touch.
You couldn’t help but smile as you took it all in. Powder was already snapping pictures with her phone, Ekko leaning into the frame and striking goofy poses. Caitlyn and Vi claimed the booth’s corner seats, their hands brushing as they shared a menu. Jayce and Mel arrived shortly after, bringing the group all together.
The energy was vibrant, the table filled with overlapping conversations and laughter as everyone admired the café’s welcoming and cozy aura. Viktor took a seat beside you again, his quiet presence somehow grounding amidst all the noise.
"See?" Powder beamed, nudging your shoulder. "Worth the rush, right?" "Totally," you admitted, leaning back and savoring the moment. "This place is amazing." As everyone placed their orders, Viktor leaned slightly toward you, his voice low so only you could hear. "Do you still think playing here is just a dream?" His question caught you off guard. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond. "I mean... yeah? It’s not like places like this to just hand out gigs to random people. I doubt they’d want a rock band playing here anyway.. especially not college students.” He let your words sink in for a while before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Who knows. Sometimes you just need the right connections to make things happen.”
Before you could press him on what he meant, the food and drinks arrived, and the table erupted into excitement. Plates of waffles, milkshakes, coffee and a whole bunch of other delicious dishes were passed around, each one looking like it had stepped straight out of a retro diner ad.
Ekko was the first to dive in, immediately stealing a bite from Powder’s plate. "Hey!" she protested, smacking his hand away with a laugh. Everyone dug in and continued their conversations, you yourself indulging in a conversation with Mel and Jayce who were curious about your career choice and major which you were more then happy to talk about. They stared in awe as you explained how you met each member and how you all formed the band, Powder and Ekko later joining in and as did Caitlyn.
At some point, Viktor excused himself, disappearing for a whole 15 minutes but you decided to let it go, indulging in whatever topic your friends had brought up.
When Viktor returned, he wore an expression that was far too pleased with himself. You raised an eyebrow, but he simply shrugged and slid back into his seat, redirecting the conversation effortlessly.
The group lingered at the café for over an hour, soaking in the atmosphere and sharing stories. When it finally was time to leave, you felt a pang of reluctance but pushed it aside, grateful for the experience.
As the group made their way out, Viktor fell into step beside you. "You might want to keep your calendar clear for next weekend," he said casually, his tone light but meaningful. You frowned, confused. "Why?" "Let’s just say you’ll need it free," he replied cryptically, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
You wanted to press him for more details, but the others were already calling for you to catch up. The walk back was just as lively as before, Powder and Ekko bickering playfully while Vi and Caitlyn walked hand in hand.
All the while, Viktor’s words echoed in your mind, sparking a tiny ember of excitement you couldn’t quite extinguish.
The days that followed Viktor’s very vague message had you up and restless all night. You tried to keep yourself busy—between classes, band practice, and working on your art project, you thought you could distract yourself with but Viktor’s words lingered like a riddle you couldn’t solve.
Powder was no help either. “You’re overthinking it,” she said casually one night as you both sat in your dorm. “Am I?” you asked, strumming a chord on your guitar. “He tells me to keep my calendar clear and then refuses to explain anything. How am I not supposed to think about it?” Powder shrugged, lying back on her bed with her phone in hand. “Look, maybe it’s something cool, or maybe it’s just Viktor being, y’know, Viktor. Either way, freaking out isn’t gonna help.”
You sighed, knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the curiosity from eating at you. Viktor was too intentional, too precise for this to be random. Whatever he had planned, it wasn’t something small.
By Wednesday, your patience had worn thin. After class, you spotted Viktor in the library, surrounded by notes and his laptop, indulged in his work. Deciding you couldn’t wait any longer, you walked over and slid into the seat across from him. He looked up, mildly surprised but not displeased. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirked, knowing exactly why you were there.
“You know exactly why I’m here,” you said, folding your arms. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Do I?” “You’ve been playing this weird game of mystery all week,” you said, exasperated. “Come on, just spill it already. What’s going on?” Viktor chuckled softly, amused by your little outburst. “You’re impatient,” he observed. “Yeah, and you’re avoiding the question,” you shot back, brows furrowed with annoyance.
Viktor’s smirk widened slightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Perhaps. But where’s the fun in revealing everything so soon?” You narrowed your eyes at him, torn between frustration and curiosity. “You know, not everyone enjoys playing your shitty guessing games, Viktor.” He leaned forward, resting his hands lightly on his cane. “And yet, here you are, thoroughly invested.”
You opened your mouth to retort but stopped, realizing he was right. “Fine,” you said with a resigned sigh, leaning back in your chair. “But if this turns out to be some overhyped bullshit, I swear to god Viktor I’ll smash my guitar against your head.” You said, of course not meaning the petty threat seariously since guitars were hella expensive but you definitely were annoyed.
Viktor’s chuckle deepened, the corners of his mouth twitching in a rare, genuine smile. “Noted. But I don’t think you’ll be disappointed rockstar.”
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taglist: @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou
© URFAVLARRY
DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS
I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫
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iluvstarkey · 1 month ago
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When The Tide Comes
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AN: This is apart of my Tans and Temptation series BUT it is perfectly fine to read by itself no context is needed. <3 Also someone let me know if you think Sarah's reasoning is dramatic because this story is based on a true story.
Summary: Sarah unfriends you and Rafe comforts you.
Warnings: Sarahs a Bitch, Swearing, Rafe and Reader are not together, mentions of abuse, Rafe is a sweetheart.
Rafe Cameron x Thorton reader
Now Spinning: Cherry by Harry Styles
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Ever since you can remember, the island has been divided between kooks and pogues. Figure eight and the cut. How people looked at you mattered you were a Thorton, and everyone knew who you were and who your family was. You had an image; it was hard to carry the weight of the island having its eyes on you, but thankfully, you weren't alone. Sarah Cameron, your best friend in the whole world, your rock, the only person who understood the weight of it all was by your side.
When your freshmen year started, you two did everything together. You tried to get your classes to be the exact same; you had your brother or Sarahs drive you to school every day. You walked to each other's lockers and to each other's classes. Soon, your duo turned into three and then later four. Sarah, Cassie, Kiara, and you. You would go everywhere together until Toppers back to school party. You were friends with a couple of pogues and you were hanging beside them with Kiara. Cassie and Sarah were off with Sarah's new boyfriend who also happened to be your brother. You thought it wasn't a big deal that Sarah liked Topper. You would be a hypocrite to say that since you liked her brother as well.
JJ was throwing a rock back and forth to John B when all of a sudden, John B missed the catch, and the rock hit right into the Keg, knocking it over. Topper soon ran over his hands, shooting up in the air, "Watch it, pogue, this alcohol costs more than your worth. Shouldn't you be at home anyway? Getting beaten by your deadbeat dad?" "Fuck off, Topper." Kie pushed him backward. " Awe, protecting your Pogue boyfriend? Do you have a kink for getting beaten as well? You know what they say about like father like son." Topper sneered back at her. "God, Topper, you're such a bitch." Kie took JJ's arm and dragged him away from the scene.
"No way she just called Topper a bitch, the fucking nerve she has," Sarah spoke up beside you, you didn't even notice her walk up next to you. You decided against defending Kiara. Recently, something has been off with Sarah, she barely invited you to things, only hanging out with Cassie and Topper, a newfound trio. Sarah has also been more irritable. She would randomly get mad at you and wouldn't give it up until you apologized for it. You never knew what side you were on.
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"I'm just not talking to her, I don't want to be friends with someone who's gonna treat me like that, you know? I mean, she didn't even apologize to me she actually hasn't said anything to me about it. She also keeps asking me to hang out, like who does she think she is?" You and Sarah sat in the kitchen eating some type of sandwich that Sarah said was the best she's ever made. "I mean, I don't really know the whole situation. Do you really think she meant harm in it? Are you just fully going to cut her off?" You spoke up halfway chewing. "Please even if she apologized it wouldn't have been true so what's the point." Sarah moved her chair and walked out of the room.
You never told Sarah, but you never stopped hanging out with Kiara, you guys would hang out basically every day at the beach somehow Sarah ended up finding out one night when you were with Kiara. Sarah then unadded you and basically never talked to you when she was over with your brother. She didn't even try to communicate her feelings she just shut down and then decided you were the worst person in the world. At first, it bothered you, the fact that you were extremely close to just her cutting you off like you meant nothing. You guys grew up together, you did everything with each other. Then it turned into anger, the fact that she thought she could just do that like she was in the right. She wasn't, she was being dramatic she couldn't possibly think that she was right? Topper said some messed up things, and Kiara didn't even call her the bitch so why was she expecting an apology?
You and Kie were on the pier with the pogues, nothing was really going on you had a couple drinks. You had some type of intuition and decided to check your phone to see Cassie's story. She was on the mainland for the weekend with Sarah. That was always the trip that you both took. Every year on July 7th, you would travel up to the mainland for the weekend. You excused yourself from the group and decided to walk home.
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You had tears brewing in your eyes as you opened the door. Rafe sat in the living room some type of sports game was playing. He was alone Topper must have been in the bathroom. He turned his head towards you as the door clicked shut. "Hey princess have a fun night?" He teased you before noticing the tears in your eyes. "Not tonight Rafe." He immediately got up and dragged you to your room away from the loud tv. He shut the door to your bedroom and cupped your face wiping away the tears. "What's wrong?" You shook your head as the tears just flowed.
Rafe just brought you into a hug, rubbing your back, which just made you sob harder into him. "Shhhh, it's okay, You're okay, breathe, sweet girl." He was gentle, very gentle. You looked up at him your eyes landing on his handsome face. His hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, his beautiful blue eyes that just searched your face for any indication of what happened, his perfect body. Him. Rafe snapped you out of your trance. "Y/n, talk to me what happened?" You walk over to the side of your bed and have a seat. You decided to tell him everything. Starting with what Topper said all the way to Sarah cutting you off and finally going on the mainland trip with someone else. By the time you were done explaining, you were exhausted. You cried it all out to Rafe, who just sat there and listened.
Rafe listened to the whole story from start to end. "Don't let her get to her, you know? I would just ignore it. You two were friends since you two were born she won't just replace you like that now, c'mon time for you to go to bed." Rafe got up and motioned for you to lie down. You did as instructed and he pulled the covers up over you and then kissed your forehead. "Don't let her get to you okay?" You nodded at him before he turned your light off and walked out of the room.
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