#i��ve got a secret

[sandinmybed]

The Party need to survive until at least 1987 because I think they would LOVE The Princess Bride

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 4

Summary: you left as fast as you could. What was his gift? You were praying to god that your love be safe. But little you knew, it was just the start...

Warning: blood, mental illness.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Original gif by @asoiaffan ♡ Hope you enjoy!

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest like a drum as she gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white. Her breathing was shallow, frantic, as if she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Every horrible possibility ran through her mind, twisting her thoughts into a frantic knot. Her boyfriend wasn’t answering his calls. Aegon had smiled at her like he had some dark secret, that twisted, sick smile. The gift he left. What had he done?

She pressed down harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding recklessly through the empty streets. The world around her blurred as she focused solely on getting home—on finding out what was waiting for her. Her hands were trembling so violently she could barely keep the car steady. As she took a sharp turn, her tires screeched against the pavement, almost colliding with a car coming from the opposite direction.

“Shit!” she gasped, jerking the wheel back. Her pulse skyrocketed, her breath coming in short, rapid bursts. The other car honked angrily as it sped past, but Y/N didn’t care. She couldn’t think about anything except getting home.

“Aegon’s lying,” she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling. “He’s trying to scare me. He’s just… messing with me. I’ll get home, and it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.”

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, the fear was still there, gnawing at her insides like a festering wound. She could still hear Aegon’s voice in her head, the way he had laughed so softly, so eerily.

Did you open the gift I left you?

Y/N swallowed back the rising panic, her throat tightening. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, her heart thundering so loudly in her chest she thought it might explode. She pressed harder on the gas, speeding through another intersection without checking. Her mind was a whirlwind, screaming at her, warning her, pleading with her to turn back—but she couldn’t. She had to know. She had to see.

When she finally pulled into her driveway, she slammed on the brakes, barely giving the car time to stop before she jumped out. The moment she stepped outside, she froze.

The air was thick, heavy with a putrid smell—like something had rotted, festered. Her stomach lurched as the stench hit her full force, bile rising in her throat. It was a smell she couldn’t ignore, and it only heightened her terror. Something was wrong. Something was so wrong.

“Jacob…” Her voice cracked as she whispered her boyfriend’s name, the words barely a breath. Tears pricked her eyes as she stumbled toward the door, her legs weak and shaky. The smell only grew stronger as she got closer to the house, the kind of stench that clung to the walls, suffocating. Her mind spiraled into horrible images, and she felt her knees buckle beneath the weight of her fear.

“What did Aegon do?” she whimpered, her throat dry, her lips trembling.

She fumbled with the keys, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The smell hit her full force, thick and rancid, making her gag. Her eyes watered from the stench, and her mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t breathe.

“Jacob,” she whispered again, her voice desperate, pleading. “Please, God, no…”

Her eyes scanned the room, her vision blurry with fear. The house was eerily silent, except for the pounding of her heart in her ears. The living room was still, as if nothing had been disturbed. But then her gaze fell on something that hadn’t been there before—a large box sitting in the middle of the couch.

Y/N froze. The knot in her stomach twisted violently, her chest tightening with dread. The gift.

She took a slow, shaky step toward the box, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. The stench was overwhelming now, and her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to steel herself, telling herself it would be okay.

“He’s messing with me. He’s messing with me. He wouldn’t…”

But her thoughts were fractured, her mind replaying Aegon’s twisted smile, his eerie laugh, the way he had hinted at something horrible waiting for her. Her steps were slow, each one more painful than the last as she forced herself closer to the box. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to stop, to run, to leave—but she couldn’t. She had to know. She had to see what he had done.

Her knees nearly gave out beneath her as she stood in front of the box. Her hands trembled violently, hovering over the lid. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath ragged as she tried to calm herself, tried to tell herself that whatever was inside, she could handle it.

“You can do this,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaking. “It’s just a box. Just open it. Open it, and it’ll be over.”

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she gripped the lid. And then, just as she was about to lift it, she heard it.

“Meow.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, her heart skipping a beat. The sound was soft, almost delicate, and it took her a moment to process what she had heard. Slowly, with trembling hands, she lifted the lid of the box. Inside, curled up in a soft blanket, was a small golden kitten with wide, innocent eyes and a pretty blue collar around its neck.

For a moment, Y/N just stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Her breath caught in her throat, and the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally broke free. She let out a sob—of relief, of exhaustion, of fear—and collapsed to her knees in front of the box.

It was just a kitten. A cute, tiny kitten. Nothing horrible. Nothing gruesome. Just… a kitten.

“Oh my God,” she choked out between sobs, her hands trembling as she reached into the box and scooped the kitten up into her arms. The kitten nuzzled against her, purring softly, and Y/N cried harder, her body shaking with the force of her relief.

She hugged the kitten tightly to her chest, pressing her face into its soft fur as she sobbed uncontrollably. The tension, the fear, the gut-wrenching panic she had felt—it all came crashing down at once, and she couldn’t hold it back. She kissed the top of the kitten’s head, her tears soaking into its fur as she whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, God. Oh my God…”

For what felt like hours, she just sat there, cradling the kitten, her body wracked with sobs of relief. The terror she had felt—the belief that she would find something horrible, something irreversibly gruesome—it all melted away, leaving her trembling and exhausted.

When she finally managed to calm herself down, she stood up, still holding the kitten in her arms. Her mind was a haze, her body weak from the emotional onslaught. As she walked toward the kitchen to find something for the kitten to eat, she noticed something strange—the smell was still there.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twisted again. She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes landing on the counter where a package of meat had been left out—rotting. The smell was coming from the meat.

Y/N almost laughed—a weak, breathless laugh. All of her fear, all of her panic, had been over rotting meat.

The realization made her feel foolish, but it also made her feel relieved. She hadn’t found her boyfriend’s body. She hadn’t found anything horrible waiting for her. Just a kitten and some rotten meat.

But as she fed the kitten and sat down on the floor, petting its soft fur, a new fear crept into her mind. Aegon’s words still echoed in her head. Why isn’t he answering your calls?

Her relief was short-lived, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. Something was still wrong.

The doorbell rang, its sharp sound cutting through the quiet of the house. Y/N froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She held the kitten closer, her mind racing with a flood of possibilities. Was it Aegon? Had he followed her here? Her stomach twisted with fear as she slowly walked toward the door, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

With trembling hands, she peeked through the peephole. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw Jacob standing on the other side, holding a bouquet of flowers. For a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—he was alive. Jacob was standing there, perfectly fine.

She flung the door open, tears spilling down her cheeks as she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest. “Jacob!” she cried, her voice muffled against his shirt. “Oh my God, I’m so happy you’re here. I missed you so much.”

Jacob stood there, stunned, the flowers still clutched in his hand as he blinked down at her. “Y/N… are you okay? What happened?”

But Y/N didn’t let him finish. She tightened her hold on him, her tears soaking into his shirt as she pressed her face harder into his chest. “I thought… I thought something happened to you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ve been so scared. I missed you so much, Jacob.”

His arms wrapped around her slowly, pulling her closer as he kissed the top of her head. “I missed you too, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice soft. He held her tightly, gently rubbing her back as he tried to calm her down. “I’m here now. Everything’s okay.”

For a moment, the relief was overwhelming, and she stayed in his arms, soaking in his warmth, the familiar smell of him. It was real—Jacob was safe, and Aegon hadn’t touched him. She hadn’t lost him.

After a few moments, they moved to the couch, and Y/N wiped her tears, trying to compose herself as she sat beside him. Jacob placed the bouquet of flowers on the coffee table, a small, awkward smile on his face as he looked at her. “I brought these for you,” he said softly.

She managed a weak smile, trying to hide the lingering fear that gnawed at her insides. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

They sat in a brief, comfortable silence before Jacob sighed, his expression turning more serious. “Y/N… there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Her heart sank. Something to talk about? She suddenly had a bad feeling, the unease creeping back into her chest. But she forced a smile, trying to push the anxiety aside. “What is it?”

Jacob ran a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with hesitation. “I’ve been offered a job,” he began slowly, “but it’s far away. Really far away. I’ll have to leave soon, and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

Y/N’s mind immediately raced back to Aegon—the man who had haunted her thoughts and dreams, the man who had been tormenting her for weeks. The man who might have killed Jacob if things had gone differently. The thought of being alone, with no one to protect her from Aegon, made her stomach churn. But she swallowed her fear, forcing herself to remain calm.

She couldn’t tell Jacob about Aegon. Not now. Not after everything they’d been through. She didn’t want to fight with him again, and she certainly didn’t want him to think she was crazy.

So instead, she plastered on a smile, pretending everything was fine. “That’s… great,” she said, her voice unnaturally bright. “I’m really happy for you, Jacob.”

He looked at her, his brow furrowing with concern. “Are you sure? I know it’s sudden, and I don’t want to leave you alone—”

“I’ll be fine,” Y/N interrupted, her voice firm despite the terror creeping into her chest. “I’ll be okay. You deserve this, and I don’t want to hold you back.”

Jacob smiled, relief washing over his face. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me.”

They sat together for a while longer, talking about the details of his job and the logistics of his trip. Y/N listened, nodding at all the right moments, but inside, her mind was spiraling with fear. She smiled when she was supposed to, laughed at his jokes, and even kissed him, pretending that everything was fine. But deep down, she was still terrified. Aegon was out there, lurking in the shadows, and she knew he wasn’t done with her.

Jacob leaned in, kissing her softly, his hands cupping her face. She kissed him back, holding him close, trying to savor the moment despite the dread twisting in her stomach. When they pulled apart, Jacob smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jacob smiled, clearly relieved by her reaction. He leaned in and kissed her softly, and she kissed him back, pretending everything was okay. But inside, she was shaking. The terror of what Aegon had said, of what he was capable of, still gnawed at her.

When they pulled away, Jacob wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close again. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, trying to calm her racing thoughts. She closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent, trying to ground herself. But the fear still lingered, festering inside her.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the table, and Y/N flinched, her heart jumping into her throat. She reached for it with trembling hands, her eyes widening when she saw the message on the screen.

Do you like your gift? :)

The message was from an unknown number, but Y/N didn’t need to guess who it was. She paled, her heart hammering in her chest as the blood drained from her face. Aegon.

Her breath hitched, her body going rigid as fear gripped her once again. Her mind spiraled, panic clawing at her insides. She wanted to scream, to throw the phone across the room, to run. But she couldn’t. Not in front of Jacob.

Jacob glanced over, noticing her reaction. “Who’s that?” he asked, his voice casual, but Y/N could hear the hint of curiosity.

Y/N forced a smile, quickly locking her phone and setting it back down on the table. “No one,” she said, her voice strained but steady. “Just a spam text.”

Jacob didn’t seem to notice the tremor in her voice. He nodded, leaning back against the couch as he wrapped an arm around her. “I guess it’s just me and you tonight, then,” he said with a smile.

Y/N smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Inside, she was screaming. Aegon was watching. Aegon knew.

The days after Jacob left were quiet. Too quiet, in fact. Y/N tried to keep herself busy, throwing herself into distractions to keep her mind from wandering. At least she had Fluffy, the golden kitten Aegon had given her. He was a good boy, sweet and playful, a small comfort in the silence that now filled the house. She'd named him Fluffy because of his soft fur, and he seemed to take well to her affection, curling up in her lap and purring as if he sensed her unease.

But even Fluffy couldn't drown out the constant notifications from her phone. Aegon was still texting her, not the threatening or possessive kind of messages she was used to, but almost... sad ones. He talked about how he was feeling, how much everything hurt, how lonely he was. His words were raw, like those of a lost child, begging for attention, for someone to understand him.

“| don't know what's wrong with me anymore, Y/N."

"Everything hurts."

"I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't breathe without you."

"Why don't you ever reply? Do you even think about me? Or am I just dead to you?"

But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the kitten, or the movies, or anything else, there was one thing she couldn't escape: her phone. It buzzed constantly, the screen lighting up with message after message from Aegon. At first, she didn't bother reading them. She had learned long ago that giving him any attention, any response, was like feeding a starving animal. He would latch onto it and never let go.

He mentioned Fluffy too, explaining that he got her the kitten because he wanted her to have something to make her happy, something to be her friend when she felt alone. He wanted to give her a little version of Sunfyre, his beloved cat, so that she would have a piece of him even when he couldn't be with her. Aegon just wanted her to be happy.

There were long paragraphs detailing his spirals, how he would drink until he couldn't feel anything, how the world seemed to blur around him. His words became increasingly disjointed, desperate.

"I feel like I'm disappearing. Do you even remember me?"

"I bought him for you so you wouldn't be alone. So you'd have a piece of me with you."

"I wanted you to be happy. That's all l've ever wanted."

Sometimes, Y/N felt a strange flicker of pity for him. He sounded so hurt, so lost. But every time she thought about feeling sorry for him, she reminded herself that this was Aegon. The same man who had put her through hell, the same man who had stalked her, who had terrorized her. It didn't matter how sad or broken he sounded-she couldn't trust him. She couldn't let herself fall into that trap again.

And so, she ignored him.

She never replied to his messages. She couldn't. And for a while, it seemed like that was enough. Aegon remained calm, his texts gentle, almost pleading, but never aggressive. Everything was fine, or as fine as it could be.

Until it wasn't.

One evening, Y/N noticed her phone buzzing more than usual. At first, it was just a few messages from Aegon, the usual ramblings about his day or how much he missed her. But then the texts became more frequent, coming one after another, a steady stream of notifications lighting up her screen.

He was demanding her to reply.

It wasn't a request anymore-it was an order. The tone of his messages shifted, becoming more erratic, more desperate.

"Why aren't you answering me?"

"I know you're there."

"Please, just talk to me."

The texts came faster, piling up one after another until her phone buzzed continuously. Then, the calls started.

Her phone rang and rang, Aegon's name flashing across the screen. She ignored it, her hands trembling as she tried to keep herself calm. But the ringing didn't stop. It was relentless. The sound echoed in the small living room, pounding against her skull, making her chest tighten with anxiety.

Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Her heart was racing, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone and turned it off completely. The sudden silence was deafening, but it was better than hearing Aegon's voice, than seeing his name over and over.

She tried to distract herself, to forget about the flood of messages, about the growing dread building in the pit of her stomach. She put on a movie, curled up on the couch with Fluffy, trying to lose herself in the noise of the television. But her mind kept wandering back to Aegon, to his erratic texts, his sudden shift from pitiful to demanding. Something was Wrong. She could feel it.

And then, the doorbell rang.

Y/N’s heart stopped.

Her eyes flicked to the door, her body going cold as fear washed over her. She didn’t move at first, just stared at the door, her breath shallow, her mind racing. It couldn’t be…

Slowly, she stood up, her legs trembling as she moved toward the door, careful not to make a sound. She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to see who was standing on the other side. But she had to know.

Peeking through the peephole, her blood turned to ice.

It was Aegon.

He was standing there, his face pale and smeared with blood. His clothes were stained with it too, dark crimson splashes that looked like they’d been hastily wiped away. His hair was disheveled, his eyes wide and wild, like an animal cornered and desperate.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she watched him. He didn’t look right. He didn’t look normal. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

And then he spoke.

“Please… let me in.”

Her breath hitched, her entire body stiffening in place. She didn't respond. She couldn't. Her throat was too tight, her mind racing too fast to form coherent thoughts. She just stood there, frozen in place, as he pressed his bloodied hand against the door, smearing it with red.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice hoarse, trembling. "Something happened. I did something bad. I don't know what to do. I don't know who to go to."

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he looked so utterly pathetic, so broken, that for a fleeting moment, Y/N almost felt sorry for him again. Almost. But the sheer terror that gripped her heart wouldn't let her move. She couldn't afford to feel sorry for him. Not now.

"I don't feel good, Y/N" Aegon sobbed, his hand sliding down the door, leaving a dark red smear behind. "Please... I just want to see you. Please. Let me in."

Y/N’s hand hovered over the doorknob, her mind a storm of confusion and fear. A part of her wanted to open the door, wanted to help him. He looked so broken, so lost. She couldn’t help but feel that same flicker of pity again, that small voice in the back of her mind whispering that maybe he really did need her, that maybe he really was just a scared, lonely boy.

But then Aegon’s face twisted, his tear-streaked expression contorting into something darker, something terrifying.

“You fucking bitch!” he snarled, slamming his fists against the door. The sudden violence made Y/N jump, her breath catching in her throat as she stumbled back, her eyes wide with terror.

“I know you’re in there!” Aegon screamed, his voice raw with rage. “You think you can hide from me?! You think I don’t fucking know?!”

He pounded on the door again, harder this time, the wood rattling under the force of his fists. “You’re mine!” he shouted, his voice cracking with fury. “I’ll fucking kill you, Y/N! I’ll rip you open! I’ll tear you apart!”

Y/N’s body went cold, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from her chest. She stumbled back, her mind screaming at her to run, to hide. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t face him. Not like this.

Y/N's body moved on instinct, her fight-or-flight response kicking in. She ran. She bolted to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, her heart hammering in her chest. Her hands shook so violently that she could barely turn the lock, but she did it. She locked the door and stumbled backward.

Y/N sat huddled in the tub, her entire body trembling uncontrollably, clutching Fluffy so tightly that she could feel his little heartbeat against her chest. Her breath was shallow, uneven, the fear twisting in her stomach like a knife. She pressed her hand over her mouth, trying to silence the sobs that threatened to escape. If she made a sound—any sound—he would know where she was.

The front door had crashed open. Aegon was inside. He didn’t call out anymore; the apartment had gone terrifyingly quiet except for the slow, deliberate thud of his footsteps. Each step echoed through the empty rooms, growing louder, heavier. He was searching for her.

Her mind raced, each frantic thought more horrifying than the last.

He’s going to find me. He’s going to kill me.

Her heart hammered so violently in her chest that she thought it might explode. The apartment was small; there weren’t many places to hide. He would check the bedroom soon. It was only a matter of time before he found her.

Stay quiet. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Maybe he’ll leave. Maybe he’ll think you’re not here.

But the thought was ridiculous. He knew she was here. He had known from the moment he’d started pounding on the door. He could feel her fear, her presence, like a shark smelling blood in the water.

The footsteps grew closer.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing herself against the cold, hard surface of the tub. Her grip tightened around Fluffy, who had gone still in her arms, sensing the terror in the air. She could hear Aegon’s footsteps in the hallway now, slow and methodical, as if he were savoring the anticipation.

Don’t come in here. Please, don’t come in here.

The bedroom door creaked open.

Her entire body went rigid, her breath catching in her throat. She bit down on her lower lip so hard that she tasted blood, forcing herself to stay still, stay quiet. Her chest ached from the effort of holding her breath. Every muscle in her body screamed in agony from the tension, but she didn’t dare move. She didn’t dare make a sound.

The silence was unbearable. The only thing she could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears, each thud a countdown to her doom.

The floorboards creaked. He was inside the room now.

Her mind was racing, a whirlwind of fear and desperation. What do I do? What can I do?

Run? No, he was too close. He would hear her. He would catch her. There was nowhere to run.

Fight? With what? She had nothing. She was defenseless. He was stronger than her, and she had seen the blood. She had no idea what he was capable of.

Hide. Just hide. Stay quiet.

She could hear him moving through the room, the soft scrape of his shoes against the floor. He wasn’t saying anything, but the silence was more terrifying than his screaming had ever been. It was the silence of someone who knew exactly what they were going to do. The silence of someone who was in control.

He’s looking for me. Her stomach twisted into a knot of terror.

The sound of a drawer being yanked open, then another. He was checking everywhere. She could picture him tearing through the room, methodically searching every corner, every shadow. Her heart thudded in her chest, so loud she thought for sure he could hear it. Can he hear it? The thought sent a fresh wave of panic surging through her.

Please, please, just leave.

Suddenly, the air in the room shifted. Y/N’s breath hitched as she realized he was standing right outside the bathroom door. She could hear his breathing now, low and ragged, like a beast just beyond the threshold.

He knows. He knows I’m in here.

Her whole body locked up in terror as she imagined him standing there, staring at the door, his bloodshot eyes wide and crazed, his hands still covered in blood. Her mind conjured up horrifying images of him busting through, grabbing her, and dragging her out of the tub, his fingers sinking into her flesh.

He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me and I’ll never see daylight again.

Fluffy shifted slightly in her arms, a soft, almost imperceptible meow escaping his tiny throat. Y/N’s breath hitched, terror flashing through her veins like electricity. No, no, no, no, no.

The bathroom door handle rattled.

She froze. Every inch of her body turned to ice. The metal handle creaked as Aegon twisted it, testing the lock. It didn’t open, but he was trying. He was there. Just on the other side.

Her entire world shrank to that single sound—the soft, rhythmic rattling of the door handle as Aegon tried to get in. It felt like hours passed as she sat there, paralyzed in the tub, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for him to break through.

And then, with a sickening thud, the door slammed.

He was pounding on it now, harder and harder, the force of his blows making the door tremble. Each hit reverberated through her, shaking her down to her core.

Oh god, he’s coming in. He’s going to get in.

The doorframe groaned under the pressure, the wood splintering. Y/N pressed herself further into the tub, trying to make herself as small as possible, her heart racing so fast it felt like it might burst. Her breathing was shallow, her chest tight with fear. Every instinct screamed at her to move, to run, but she couldn’t. She was trapped.

The door cracked. She could hear the wood giving way.

Oh god, he’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me.

But then… silence.

The pounding stopped.

She blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Was it over? Did he leave?

Her body trembled, her muscles aching from the tension. She didn’t dare move. She didn’t dare make a sound. She just waited, listening.

Nothing. No footsteps. No breathing. Just the eerie, deafening quiet.

Slowly, cautiously, she lifted her head, straining to hear something—anything. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Maybe he had given up. Maybe he was gone.

But then, out of nowhere, a loud, sickening crash shattered the silence.

Y/N’s blood ran cold. She whipped her head toward the source of the sound, her heart seizing in her chest.

Aegon’s face smashed through the small window in the bathroom door, the glass shattering around him. His bloodshot eye stared through the broken pane, wide and unblinking, searching. His face was smeared with blood, his skin pale and stretched tight over his bones, but it was his eye—his one, crazed, bloodshot eye—that was the most terrifying.

It was staring right at where she was hiding.

Did he saw me? Did he saw me? Oh god. I'm dead. I'm dead.

Y/N slapped her hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face as she tried to stifle her breathing, her whole body trembling uncontrollably. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that he couldn’t see her, that he couldn’t hear the terrified gasps that escaped her despite her best efforts.

Don’t breathe. Don’t move. He can’t see you. He can’t see you.

But his eye… it was right there, inches from her, staring through the broken glass with a wild, unhinged intensity. His breathing was heavy, ragged, echoing in the small space as he scanned the room, looking for her. His hand reached through the broken window, the bloodied fingers scraping against the door, searching, clawing.

Y/N’s heart thundered in her chest, her pulse so loud she thought for sure he could hear it. Her entire body shook with fear, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. She pressed her hand harder against her mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of her sobs.

Please don’t find me. Please, god, don’t find me.

For what felt like an eternity, Aegon stayed there, his face pressed against the door, his eye wide and frantic, his breath fogging up the glass. He didn’t say anything, didn’t scream or yell. He just… looked.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

He pulled back, his bloodied hand retreating through the shattered window. His footsteps echoed through the apartment once again, slow and deliberate, growing fainter and fainter until they finally disappeared altogether.

He was gone.

Y/N stayed there, curled up in the bathtub, her body trembling violently, tears streaming down her face as she clutched Fluffy to her chest. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She didn’t even breathe properly, too scared to believe that it was really over.

When she was sure he was gone, she let out a strangled, shaky breath and crawled out of the tub, her legs weak and shaking. Fluffy stayed behind, still curled up in the tub, too scared to move.

Her fingers fumbled for her phone, but she had turned it off earlier. With shaking hands, she powered it on, and as soon as the screen flickered to life, she called the police.

But even as she pressed the phone to her ear, the sound of her own heartbeat drowned everything else out.

How about you? Did you like this part?

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[venerawrites]

Hi theree 🌺👋👋

I was wondering if you could make some headcannons for a s/o who has a high sex drive. (Like they love getting pounded by their mans💋💋💋)

With kakashi, sai, shino , and Gaara 🌹

Thank you! Stay hydrated pls 🏊🏊

author's note: oh, such an interesting idea! Hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for requesting <3

warning: 18+ content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

➤ Kakashi

A s/o who has a libido as high as his? YES, PLEASE!

It is not a secret that Kakashi loves sex - he likes reading about it, he likes thinking about it and he LOVES doing it.

Most of his life he has shielded this side of him from his partners, too afraid they would find it weird or accuse him of being a pervert.

When he got in a relationship with his s/o, both of them were too shy to relax and voice their needs out loud. After they had their first time, however, his partner would quickly forget their morals and would not be shy to literally BEG for his cock.

Kakashi would lie if he says he doesn't love it - there is no sight more beautiful than his beloved on their knees, eyes hazed and hands gripping his tights, while they whine about how bad they need him.

He is definitely a tease, so while he would die to just slam his s/o on his desk and pound into them, he would always restrain himself and edge his lover for as long as he can control himself. Kakashi can and WILL be very mean about it - this man has quite a lot of patience and can prolong foreplay for literally hours.

99% of the time he would give his s/o what they want but that doesn't mean it would always be long and sensual - if he is working or busy in general, all he can offer is 5 minutes of his time and his s/o would have to do all of the work too.

Totally the type to punish his s/o for being a brat later that evening - and, if anything, it would encourage his lover even more to experiment with how far they can push Kakashi's limits.

➤ Sai

Sai is more fascinated by it than turned on by it.

I've always imagined him as someone who likes to have sex occasionally, but doesn't really has a high drive.

Like does it feel nice? Sure, it is pretty pleasurable. But is not something he would actively seek, neither need.

Yet he finds his s/o eagerness to have him inside of them both amazing and cute. There is just something about the way they pressed themselves close to him, looking at him with wide eyes and whispering sweet words into his ear, that really get him going.

He is a very big PLEASER so he would never say 'no' to his s/o advances -even if he is not in the mood to actually have sex, he would always be up to pleasure them with his fingers or mouth.

Sai is not very experimental in the bedroom - preferably he would pound into his beloved either from behind or in a missionary position, but he is always eager to impress and if his s/o shares with him their fantasies, he would make sure to bring each one of them to reality.

Can be quite abrupt and blunt, sometimes putting both himself and his s/o in uncomfortable situations by saying stuff like "You are in the mood, aren't you? I feel your hand going up my leg.", while being out with ALL of your friends.

He would always make sure to show his s/o how sorry he is afterwards tho - and if he was particularly bad, he may even let them punish him for his "bad behaviour".

➤ Shino

Most of the time, Shino would absolutely love his s/o high sex drive.

The thing about this man is that he goes through different periods when it comes to his needs - sometimes he wants to ram into his s/o every day at least twice, sometimes he is not really in the mood for it for weeks.

When he craves some physical intimacy, he would like to play stupid with s/o and pretend he doesn't really understand what they want, till they specifically describe in detail what they want him to do to them.

Just like Kakashi he is a MASSIVE tease - he has an enormous self-control and can edge his lover for a whole day, completely ignoring the almost painful boner in his pants.

Shino has a very high stamina can go for multiple rounds one after the other, making sure his partner is completely satisfied. He would find their limp walk extremely funny the next day.

However, if he is in one of his periods, when he doesn't really feel horny, there is not much his s/o can do - if he is not in the mood for it, he won't do it at all.

He still has some mercy on his s/o so I think if they are very good he would either satisfy them with his hands or will encourage them to use one of the many toys he has brought for them for times like this.

Luckily for his s/o his periods of abstinence rarely last longer than two weeks and once he start feeling needy again, he makes sure to properly show his beloved how much he loves and appreciate them.

➤ Gaara

Right, I feel like I may get hated for this but... this man doesn't really have a high libido. Like at all.

He likes to be intimate with his partner in a way to show them that he loves them every few days or once per week, but it is definitely not an every-day occurrence.

Gaara would find the idea of his s/o needing him so often flattering and he may occasionally give them what they ask for, but I don't see him entertaining it too much.

After all he is a Kazekage and as such he is often either too busy or too tired for sex. He usually gently let his partner know he is not in the mood, but if they bother him at work or during a meeting, he would be bit annoyed with them.

He is not opposed to his lover self-pleasuring, but he won't be the one to go out of his way and actually buy them toys. He respect this as his s/o's private time and doesn't want to interfere with it.

If he is also in the mood, he would openly accept their advances toward him and submit to all of their desires. He is usually the dominant partner, but he is not nearly as cruel as Kakashi or Shino. Most of the times he urges his s/o to tell him what they want, before he rewards them with a long, passionate sex.

Even tho he is not in the mood often, he has quite the stamina and can go for hours if his s/o let him. I think he likes to edge himself more than his partner, making it his mission to make them cum at least a few times before he fills them up.

He is not the perfect lover for someone, who craves intimacy all the time, but is definitely someone who can blow their mind every single time they are doing it.

cc artwork: Rowena Doge

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 49!

oh, how time flies... i can't believe the end of the year is this close already! not a massive fan of that, not gonna lie, but i am a fan of all of these fics, so let's focus on that, shall we?

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

built a house in the middle of your chest | LongConvolutedSimiles | 5.3k | M

Five times Buck and Eddie touch platonically plus one time they realise it's not platonic at all. i do love a good platonic-to-not-platonic-touching type fic and this hit the spot so perfectly <3

carpe diem | writingcap/@gibuckaroo | 2.6k | GA

Eddie rests his head on Buck’s shoulder and he lets himself follow. eddie's love language might be physical touch but my love language is reading about physical touch <3 so good!!

everything is fine (everything is perfect) | Kwills91/@kwills91| 4.1k | GA

Buck gets sick and Eddie takes care of him. Then Eddie bares his soul and Buck takes care of him. Because that's what they do. because that's what they do!! i love how they take care of each other here, written so perfectly <3

hen wilson's four part guide to making your stupid friends date | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 25k | M

When Buck and Eddie aren't speaking, Hen decides to take matters into her own hands. outsider pov!! hen wilson!! buddie being idiots in love!! what else could a girl (me) want (nothing) <3

i can tell just what you want (you don't want to be alone) | Talls/@tallsinspace | 12.6k | E

In which Eddie keeps secrets and Buck is incredibly normal and rational and even brave about his reaction to this. buck being so normal and rational and brave is my absolute favourite <3 love his inner dialogue here!

i don't swim and you're not in love | hattalove/@hattalove | 32.4k | T

eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly. blanket rec for an author whose work i've really been loving this week <3 been making my way through hattalove's entire profile and having such a good time. this one in particular has such a delightful buck and such lovely buddie and all of the yearning!!

i have had enough of crime | lamardeuse/@lamardeuse | 8.1k | T

Josh's view of Eddie's journey in 8A and beyond through the gay Olympic sport of competitive brunching. this fic captures josh so so perfectly and the josh & eddie dynamic is just brilliant <3

i should be pushing daisies | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 5.5k | T

Eddie goes to Texas to fix things with Chris and Buck pines. pining buck <3 this is such a brilliant character study and i love it so very much!!

practice makes perfect | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 6.5k | E

When the subject of Buck 1.0 arises, Buck worries that the reminder will make Eddie rethink their relationship. Eddie reassures him. oh my this is such a perfect way of buck 1.0 coming up in buddie fics... genuinely unmatched i saw the ao3 email in my inbox and audibly gasped. so good!!

properly | EiraLloyd/@unlifeira | 3.9k | T

“’ve got it, Eds,” someone murmured close to his ear in a way that made him shiver, and oh, that was Buck’s voice. Eddie would know him anywhere. This time, his questioning noise sounded a little more like a hum. “‘ve got it,” Buck repeated, attempting to truly drive in the message. “Y’can sleep in.” this is the loveliest mutual pining/sharing a bed/misunderstandings fic ever <3 honestly everything this author writes is just incredible, i know i'm in good hands when i see her name pop up

somethings said (to turn you inside out) | taegyungie | 12.2k | E

Buck catches Eddie on Grindr and now he can't stop thinking about it. i need ALL of the buck and eddie on grindr fics honestly they always hit the spot <3 this is hot and perfect and so so good!!

the arms of the ocean | anatargmova/@anatargmova | 9.7k | T

after Christopher leaves with his grandparents, Buck notices just how much touch-starved Eddie is — and decides to fix it. listen okay we all know by now how much i love a fic about touch starvation. however what you might not know is that i especially love a fic about touch-starved eddie. and this one has exactly that, but is also buck POV, which is just incredibly well-written and so soft and lovely and feels like a hug <3

trade all my tomorrows | ipretendtobesane/@userbuddie | 74k | E

Buck’s the god of love and was cursed to never fall for anyone, Eddie’s just trying to explore his newfound queerness with someone he trusts, striking up a friends with benefits agreement is the perfect arrangement. this is hands down the most beautiful fic i've read in a long long time. it's so well-written, so fleshed-out, just so good! i'll be rereading this many many times, i just know it <3

[gotta-winwin]

(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special teaser

⭐ starring: vernon

🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air. 

tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day

🐻‍❄️ release date: christmas day

☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ i just know i'm going to have sm fun writing this cuz the dynamic is so interesting! its already giving christmas romcom vibes and omg you guys are not ready.

11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”

Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-

“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”

He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”

Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”

Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2003: 

Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground. 

“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.

Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?” 

Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised. 

“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”

Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word. 

“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.” 

Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”

Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.” 

Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:

“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.

She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”

She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.” 

--

“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met. 

Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.” 

“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”

“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?

One christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.

10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024: 

Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene. 

She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.

Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.

It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.

Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister. 

“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

[screampied]

Vegas x reader when?

‘ VEGAS BABY: I WANNA RIDE ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you decide to visit las vegas! there, you meet up with a literal girl named vegas—she’s pretty, and walking around with a strap that’s a bit too long for her own good, oops!

wc. 10.6k

warnings. reader x vegas (THE GIRL NOT THE CITY), unprotected sex, she has a strap on, said strap on is like 36 inches and multicolored, thigh riding, spit, she has nipple piercings, overstim, brat!vegas, spanking, fucking on a slot machine

“. . . so,” vegas coos, leaning against the wall with a sly smile. you weren’t from here—las vegas, nevada. it was your twenty first birthday and since you were a simple tourist, why not visit your very first casino? the woman notice how you shift your weight, swiping a thumb against your empty shot glass. she fiddles with the sheeny silver hoops that dangle from her ears before humming. “are you a newcomer?”

“yeah, something like that,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact—she had such a gaze, a soft smile with freckles that bridge over her nose. “are you from here?” and then you look at her shirt near the very right, a tag that reads off the name of ‘VEGAS.’ “oh, uh vegas?”

she giggles. “no, that’s just a name. i’m actually from barbados.”

“you’re from barbados and your name is ve—”

“anyways!” she ahems, “come here,” and she lightly tugs on his hand. “i know a secret on how to win every machine here, heh.”

“v—vegas, nevadaaaaa, nghhhhh.”

“it’s vegas, not nevada baby.” she giggles, strumming a hand down your spine— she takes in your body as she’s bottoming out with her overly large strap. you’re so soaked, feeling her touch warm up every inch of your body. “oh, i don’t think i ever got your name.”

you pant, reaching down to touch yourself but she gingerly smacks your hand away.

“it’s um— (whatever your name is! i’d rather die that write the word Y/N i’m sorry man LMAOO)”

“ooh, cute,” she snickers before softly caressing the mounds of your ass. “oh my god, you know what would be cuter though?” she teases, suddenly pulling out. you pout— feeling yourself be not so full and she flips you over. you shrug, and she leans in to kiss your neck. “you said you wanted to top me earlier, huh? so how about you put me in my place.”

you gulp at her. “really? but—”

“hold that thought, i have to post a toji fic,” she cheeses— reaching for her phone, and you stare as she opens the site called tumblr. vegas laughs, “damn, thirty drafts that’ll probably never get posted. aw man.”

“v—vegas,” you whine, pawing at her to put her phone down.

she giggles. “oh! sorry baby, here, i’ll bend over. be extra rough too, i like the mean shit.”

part two?

[prettypinkporkchop]

Oh my god, they were roommates

Vessel x fem reader

Description: he's annoyed by you. You learn how he really feels.

Warnings: semi sexual?, making out, cursing, mentions of blood, angst, fluff

"Blah, blah, blah. Always bitching about something." Ves smiles at you from his bed.

"Just fix the fucking washing machine." You roll your eyes.

"You do it." He retorts.

You fold your arms and lean on his doorframe. "You know I don't know how."

"Stop breaking it, then. It doesn't need that much detergent." He growls and stands up, pushing past you.

"Blah, blah, blah. Always bitching about something." You bite back.

God, being his roommate, can be so challenging. He's nice when he wants to be. Yes, granted, you don't know how to do a lot of the things that he can. For example, change a tire, fix appliances, and you're JUST a GIRL. You've known him and the band for a couple of years now through your friend, ii. You know their faces, and you didn't know they were sleep token until you had to share a place with Ves. You have vowed to keep their secret. Oh yes, Ves is sexy as fuck. You have always thought that, but he can't stand you because of your girly personality.

You sit in the living room, waiting on him to finish. You hear rummaging in the laundry room. Then, a loud noise, "Shit!"

You scramble to your feet and make your way to him. You see him against the wall with a gigantic gash in his hand. Blood is pouring. "Ves!" You stand in front of him and take his wrist.

"UGH, I got my hand caught in the back of it." He doesn't fight your touch to his wrist.

"Damn it. Let me help you." You take his arm and start to walk him toward the bathroom.

He jerks himself from you. "I'm fine. I don't need any help. But we need a new washing machine." He swallows and looks down at you.

You huff and look at the ground in guilt. He hurt his hand because of your mistake. This is the second time it has broken. "Can I please help you?" You look up at him, a lump in your throat.

He notices how upset you look. He nods his head. "Yeah." He walks into the bathroom where you guys keep the medicines and stuff. He sits on the edge of the bathtub.

You open the mirror and dig around. "Is it deep enough for stitches?" You grab the peroxide.

"No. Not even close." He chuckles.

You sit on the ground in between his legs. You take his hand and hold a washcloth under it. You pour the peroxide to clean it up. The blood washes down, and you see it's deep but not too bad. He watches your every move. He notices how gentle you are. You spread some gel stuff on it and wrap it up. You stand up and put away the material. Vessel sits there and squeezes his hand.

"Thank you." You hear him say.

You turn and face him. "I'm sorry for being a shit roommate." You reply.

"You're not." He says sternly. "Plus, the washing machine needed to be replaced anyway." He smiles.

"Yeah.. I'll buy it." You walk out of the bathroom and go in your room. You plop on your bed and try to forget about how guilty you feel.

---

"Good morning!" A booming voice wakes you up. "It's approximately twelve in the afternoon, and it's show time!"

You look to see a snickering Ivy holding a megaphone. "What the fuck, bro?" You groan.

"Just wanted to let you know he'll be gone and that we'll be at a show." He smiles.

"Alright. Good luck to you guys!" You yawn and smile.

"You want to come with?" He speaks through the megaphone again.

You cringe. "I will if you stop using that thing."

You get ready and get in the van with the band. iii is driving. Vessel is sitting in the passenger seat while you and the other two are in the back, hanging on for dear life.

"Yo, Ves. What happened to your hand?" ii looks over the seat.

"I got it stuck trying to fix the washing machine." He replies.

You look down at your hands, feeling stupid and guilty again. You feel ii nudge into you.

"What's wrong?" He asks quietly. If anyone in this band knows you, it's him. He's known you as a friend for the longest.

Should you confess? He keeps secrets. You know he won't tell. You know! But you're too scared. "I feel bad because I broke it." You whisper.

He gently pats your back. "You're all good, hon. Don't beat yourself up. He's a smart guy. He can handle a bit of pain, too. Kinky motherfucker." He jokes to make you feel better.

You laugh a little bit at what he said.

You guys make it to the place where they're performing. You sit backstage on the couch, scrolling through your phone. The guys are in their rooms getting ready. You can hear their loud ass laughter. They're being rowdy. They get like this before shows. A bunch of boys, lol.

"Y/n! I need your help!" You hear ii call out.

"Lord. Coming!" You call out. You walk through the hall and find the door with his name on it. You enter the room and see he's trying to put his hair on right with the band of the mask behind his hand.

"I'm struggling. I need to look hot for the boys and girls out there." He snorts.

You shake your head and walk up behind him. "Stupid." You mutter and put the band where it goes. You ruffle his hair on the top like he usually has it. "Where's Ivy to help you out?" You ask.

"Kissing iii." He jokes. "Nerds."

You finish what he needed and you pat his shoulder. "Aight. Kill it like usual." You step out of the room.

You look down the hall and see Vessel... in his alter ego.. slowly walking towards you. (GIF above). He's not talking. He's walking closer and closer. You back up slowly. But he's still stepping forward like you're prey. Your heart speeds up. You back up until you're against a wall. His hands move up next to your head, holding him up. His face towers to yours. His white mask is close. You can almost see his eyes through the small hole.

"My hand feels better." He smiles.

"Ves! We are on!" He leaves you.

You're stuck in place as he walks away.

---

You look at the message you just sent ii. Your heart is beating out of your chest.

I can't deny the feelings I have for Vessel anymore. I need him.

You're sitting in your bed, thinking about what went down backstage a week ago. He's been acting like nothing happened. Like everything is normal. Your phone goes off and you see his response.

I can promise you, the guy is a sucker for you.

There's a knock on your door.

"Yup!"

Ves opens it and looks at you. "I did the dishes." He says.

"Congrats? I do it all of the time." You try to act like what happened didn't. You're trying to act like you don't have feelings for him. Just trying to keep things normal.

He scoffs. "Well, I did you a favor because it was your turn." He rolls his eyes.

You just realized that you had forgotten it was your turn. Here comes the guilt. "I'm sorry, ves. Let me do your laundry in return." You sit on the side of your bed, looking at him.

"It's not a big deal." He waves you off and leaves your room.

You sigh, and you can't take it anymore. You get off of your bed and follow behind him. "So, what happened that day?"

He stops and turns around to face you. "What day?" He smirks.

"Don't act dumb." You look down at the small scar on his hand.

He steps closer, reenacting what he did backstage. "Do you mean when you came out of ii's room? I got pissed." He laughs.

You scoff and cross your arms. "He's just a friend, and you know that. No romantic feelings on either side."

He walks slowly in front of you again. You back against the wall, and he towers over you. His hands on the wall above your head. "He told me." He whispers.

"Why'd you a-ask him?" You're nervous.

"You push every button I have. You piss me off in such a good way. It turns me on. Yet, you're still sweet to me." His hand runs along your cheek. "You're like gentle waters, and I'm the sharp rocks in it." His hand on your cheek moves to your hair. He tangles his fingers in your scalp. "I had to see if you felt the same way. By the way you reacted, I knew I have you in the palm of my hand."

You're stuck in place. In awe. The way his lips move. His eyes scan your features. You can smell his cologne. You are intoxicated on Ves. Your heart is jumping. You have butterflies in your stomach. Your head is fuzzy. Your knees are trying not to give out.

"You're trembling, beautiful." He smirks at you. His lowers his mouth, hovering over your lips. "Fucking show me how much you've been holding back." He growls.

You smash your lips on his, kissing him with passion and hunger. He kisses you back with the same energy, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth a few times. You moan into him, making him push his body harder into yours. He grabs your hands, entangling your fingers and holding them against the wall. He moves his thigh up, pressing his knee gently against you.

You pull away. "Ves?" you gasp as he kisses down your neck, biting your skin.

"Hm?" He asks.

Sudden anger forms in your stomach. How he has been treating you, saying you annoy him but then trying to fuck you. Now, you realize this, and you feel stupid. "Get off." You say.

He instantly stops and backs away from you. "I'm sorry." He says.

"Why're you doing this when you hate me?" You ask.

He laughs, throwing his head back a bit. This makes you even angrier. Now, you've had it. He's making you feel so stupid and vulnerable. You lift your hand up and try to smack him.

His hand grabs your wrist before you can. He looks you dead in the eyes. "You're so oblivious." He smiles, not letting go of your wrist. You squirm a bit. "I'm in love with you. Have I not made that obvious?" He finally let's you go.

You look up at him and growl. "You have a seriously messed up way of showing that."

"Who picked you up a whole state away when your tire was flat? Who gave you a place to stay when you moved here from home? Who fixes everything when you need it? When we are out at night with the guys, who gives you a jacket when you're shivering? Who makes you soup and tea when you're sick?" His voice is a bit loud, he looks so into his speech. His hand is held out and he's breathing hard.

You are taken aback. You realize everything you've ever needed. He's been there. He never hesitates to make sure you're okay.

"Most importantly," he steps forward, "Who's the one that makes my heart stop when she looks at me?"

"Now I feel bad.." You whisper.

"Don't. I would do it all again. I will do it forever." He smiles and bites the inside of his bottom lip.

"But I've done nothing for you.." You croak.

"Oh, yes, you have. You're so sweet to me. You take care of me. I feel honored every single time you ask for my help. And you make me feel alive." He takes both of your hands in his.

You smile and shed a tear.

[seongclb]

— enhypen when you’re jealous because of their bite me performance !

idol enha! x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship au, no warnings :)

req. by fellow bengali anon, hope u like it !

n. oops i got so distracted with sunghoons

♫ you by lloyd

𖠗 이희승 | lee heeseung.

you were so so excited for this comeback, especially since heeseung kept everything a surprise for you

he said he wanted today to be the “grand reveal” so you complied with it, noticing how nervous he was getting, too

even though you’ve seen his previous comebacks

midway through your excited squeals due to the chorus, you notice the women making their way to the stage and a gasp leaves your lips

so this is why he kept it a secret, you thought.

even heeseung couldn’t perform his best knowing you were watching

he takes small steps when he walks towards you

“hi baby” he spits out nervously when he sees your expression and your hands placed beside your hips

before you get the chance to get a word out, his hands are making their way to cup your cheeks for a small kiss

followed by a few more kisses

and a few more

just kisses until you stop being mad

“you better be giving me kisses like this every day until you stop performing this song” you demand

“ofc my love :D” now why would he say no to that???!

even though he wants to tease you, he knows better

𖠗 박종성 | park jongseong.

you guys watched the mv together and initially you were so excited and complimented your boyfriend the whole way through

until

the women came in their red dresses & began their sensual dances

“oh haha you didn’t mention this”

jay didn’t really pay much attention to that

but then when you don’t say much for the rest of the video

he narrows it down

“my loveeee” he calls

“hmmm?”

“are you upset about the back up dancers?”

“ofc not lol”

he knows you’re lying anyway, he’s too in love with you to not notice

so jay being the best bf ever just pulls you into a tight embrace where he just reassures the heck out of you

“it’s just work, lovey. i didn’t even look at them when they were dancing and i’d much rather dance with you”

would never even think about teasing you, you’re his precious lovebug

𖠗 심재윤 | sim jaeyun.

would probably tease you

again, you’d watch the mv together and you’d be hyping him up when your face just drops

unlike the one with jay, you’d probably ve a bit more open about how you feel

smack

“OUCH??????” he yelps

“that’s what you get. why are you dancing so close to her???”

“babe that’s my job???” pause

“are you.. jealous?” he smirks.

“nuh uh” “yuh huh”

to this, you give him a dirty look and push him before running away into another room to avoid his jokes

jake would chase after you and just throw himself onto any part of your body until you can’t move

“you’re sooooo cute, angel!!!! i love you and you only! maybe if you learn how to dance, you can dance it with me instead!”

you just stare at him in annoyance while he giggles at how cute you are

dude would make jokes ab this just so he could smother you with love again

any excuse to hug and kiss you tbh

𖠗 박성훈 | park sunghoon.

i think similar to heeseung, he kept it a surprise

but unlike hee, hoon only kept it a surprise so he could annoy you and tease you rather than be scared for his life

he initially wanted to reveal it at the live performance so you could get a good view of it live

but he gives in and lets you watch the mv cos he’s a simp and can’t refuse when you say “please” with those cute eyes of yours

literally watches you in anticipation but you’re too busy staring at your pretty bf to even realise

but then.

you see another pretty person who doesn’t look like you ALL OVER YOUR BF??????

he’s literally smirking like he can’t even hide it

“waaahh you know these dancers are like so professional, i don’t know where hybe got them but they were so good”

he expects a big reaction from you but you’re just like

“oh really? that’s so cool.”

and then he just frowns

but he doesn’t give up

“yeah it’ll be fun when we perform live”

you whip your head to him so fast, “live?”

“yep,” his smirk reappears.

“teach me the dance,” you ask.

“sorry???” he sputters

“teach meeeeee! i wanna learn so we can dance together.”

he’s literally combusting at this point, but he stands his ground

“no, you’re always such a horrible dancer.”

you frown, “fine, i’ll go ask jake.”

it’s his turn to whip his head at you

“WAIT NO I WAS JUST JOKING”

who’s smirking now, hoon

𖠗 김선우 | kim sunoo.

wouldn’t intend to make you jealous, it just happens

realises kinda fast tbh

when you’re watching it together, he’s in the midst of explaining the day and the make up artists blah blah

when he realises you’ve stopped paying attention to his details and rather you’re focused on the woman dancing with your boyfriend on the screen

sweet boy just closes the laptop

“y/n” he smiles at you.

“why’d you turn it off? i was enjoying it!” you so painfully obviously lie

“who wants to watch that anyway when i can just reenact the full thing for you, minus all the extras”

sunoo discreetly makes you feel special with this special concert only for you, his beloved

would probably teach you so you can dance together

if you end up telling him that you’re jealous

he wouldn’t have any of it

just constant reassurance and frowns bc he doesn’t know why his literal perfect s/o has anything to worry about

his eyes are only for you!!

𖠗 양정원 | yang jungwon.

absolute cutie

he tells you the day he finds out about them dancing with him

don’t get me wrong, he’ll still find this amusing

but he’s too in love with you to actually let you be sad about this thing

“y/n, i have to dance with these women for the bite me performance”

you’re glad he told you but you still feel jealous when you see it

laughs but asks what he can do to help you feel better

“just hugs.”

to which he immediately embraces you

“and kisses.”

to which he’ll leave soft kisses on your face

tells you every day, “one day down, only _ days of this performance left!”

even though you both know it won’t be the end until his career ends

when he sees the edits of him and the back up dancer, he panics about you seeing them so makes sure to keep an eye on what you watch of him & even if you do see them, he’ll be quick to make up for it

reminds you all the time that he doesn’t even look twice at them or anyone

would do anything for you just say the word

𖠗 西村力 | nishimura riki.

is so excited for you to see him dancing a new choreo

probably brings you to a dance practise one day

and that’s where you see the full choreo

“did you like it??” he asks.

“it was.. interesting.”

he just looks at you, confused

probably leaves it but wonders what was wrong with it, especially since he liked it so much

o m g

has a lightbulb moment out of nowhere

you’ve probably just forgotten about it when he shouts, “I GOT IT”

you look at him with fright “got what???”

just hugs you instead while laughing his head off

“y/n, you know i love you right? like i literally omg i love you i cant even express sometimes”

*big sad he’s so cute*

blushing, heart pattering, smile from ear to ear

“yeah, i guess i like you, too?”

kisses ur cheeks bc wow you are adorable

[pastlivesxpastlie]

My Arms Belong Around You ⟡˖ ࣪

Protective!BestFriend!Vessel x Fem!Reader

Short suggestive fluff, very very brief unwanted touching (not from Ves), forced proximity at a gig, texting, fake dating, mutual pining, size difference, scent kink, making out, praise (f receiving), “bun” and “bunny” as pet names

a/n: I’m just edging ya’ll for something you might really enjoy. As always, not proofread, we flood like Atlantic!

Being at the barricade is fun. Wearing fishnets under ripped jean shorts and Dr Martens is so fun. Being hit on by assholes at said barricade because you’re wearing said outfit…not fun. At all.

You do your best to blend in to the group of friends you're with for the show but you keep catching unwanted attention. The show was starting soon, and Vessel was nowhere to be seen. You don’t want to bother him and text again… but the guy that just pushed by grabbed your ass “accidentally” and you need your friend. You need his tall “scary dog” privilege.

You: literally just had my ass grabbed 😭

Ves: ffs. Are you ok, bunny? I’m heading in now. I’ll take care of you.

You: thank you, yeah I’m ok. Like a bodyguard? lol

Ves: is that what you want? fake boyfriend maybe?

Your eyes widened as you read the words “boyfriend.” Even if it was a way to stay safe and keep creeps off you, there was something exciting about it. A little secret just for you two. But there was no point in thinking into it. He was probably just going to stand by you, put his arm around you…give you a little squeeze here and there. And then, somehow you just knew he was near. The pit in your tummy bursts into butterflies when you feel his fingers walk gently up your spine…the back of your head. You imagine you’re beet red from blushing and giggling when he gently tilts your head back to look at him.

“There’s my girl. Alright, gorgeous?” He’s still tilting your head back he presses his forehead to yours. Gosh he’s really playing it up.

“Better now that you’re here. Didn’t think you’d find us.”

He snakes his arms around you and takes his place at your back, cushioning you from any rowdy wannabe fuckboys or moshers. Vessel knows you get nervous and self-conscious especially in new places. And loud places. And crowded places. But that was ok. He liked being there for you. “You deserve to feel safe…and have fun, you know that, yeah?” he rasps in your ear before placing a small kiss on the side of your head. “I’ve got you. Relax against me and just enjoy yourself.” Reluctantly you settle against his chest. His grip is loose enough so that you could dance if you wanted to, but what if you rubbed up against him? Would that make things weird? Of course, you’re at a metal show at the barricade, you two are bound to get mashed together at some point. Gaining some confidence, you place your hands on his arms. It shouldn’t be weird to do this with a friend…but he is of course more than a friend in a way. In your mind at least. He peers over your shoulder and hums contently “Look at your hands, bun…so tiny…even on my forearms!”

“Ves stop!! They’re not that tiny!”

“Yes they are, silly, look!” He takes your hand and holds it against his, showing how your fingertips don’t match up, but you’re both laughing too much.

“STOP! I get it, you’re a giant!” You’re wiggling and trying to get away but he holds you close, making you both bump into the people around you. But you don’t care. The plan was to make you look unavailable to weirdos. You turn and look up at him…he’s gotta be a whole foot taller than you. How had you never noticed? Just as your eyes meet, the lights dim. The show is starting. The crowd around you is loud. You know Vessel was excited about this show, but his eyes are on you when the lights come back up in a deep violet. Nothing right now is real except you and him. It’s like you’re looking at each other for the first time. “You look so pretty like this,” slips out before you realize what you’ve said. Maybe he didn’t understand what you said as the opening song blared, but the smile and crinkle of his eyes tells you that he heard. Loud and clear. He spins you back around so your back is to him again, his face in your hair. He places a tiny kiss on the side of your head and moves down to your ear.

“Such a pretty girl.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Smell pretty too.” Vessel’s lips tickle behind your ear and neck, making you instinctively stretch your neck for him. His breath is hot on your neck but it makes you shiver. God his smile against your skin makes you lean back more, and he squeezes you tight.

As the show goes on, you and Vessel are glued together. He apologies each time he has to let go of you to headbang or pump his fist, but you don’t care. You’re glad he’s letting loose. And he certainly doesn’t stop you when your hips sway and you plush ass grazes against him. His wide hands smooth down your waist and hips; you can feel him watching you but you can’t bring yourself to look.

At the end of the show, the house lights come back up, you both squint and laugh as your eyes adjust. Vessel takes your hand as your group pushes through the crowd to get out of the venue, but you find yourself still clinging to his hand as you all stand outside. Everyone’s talking about what to do next but you look up at Ves with a half smile. “Would you want to…” you trail off.

“What, bunny,” he asks, giving you a little nudge.

Suddenly you’re shy. The blush on your cheeks burn a little, which he finds so precious. His thumb trails over your cheekbone and time stops again. You barely register him saying to the group that he was walking you home. You barely remember the comfortably silent walk to your apartment. But you definitely remember how when you walked in he pulled you towards him. Just a hug. One where he strokes your hair, sways softly…pulls your head back softly so you can look at him. “You’re really good at this ‘fake boyfriend’ stuff.”

But he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even smile. “This isn’t even my best work, my darling.” He searches your face for any hesitation before letting his thumb gently pull at your bottom lip. Your breath shudders as you whisper his name.

“Ves…?”

“Shh shh shh. That was good wasn’t it? Pretending like that…it felt good, bun. Didn’t it? Let’s play a little more…yeah?” You nod as he guides you to your couch. Your legs are entwined as you sit beside each other. Vessel isn’t wasting time. He pulls you close and rubs his lips gently against yours. “I can’t believe we’re here right now…doing this.”

Your lips chase his as nuzzles his nose against yours. A soft whimper passes your lips as you try to speak.

“It’s ok, I know. I want you, too.” Finally his lips press against yours. His hands cup your cheeks as he pulls you in for more kisses. When he pulls away, he leaves you breathless. His face is dazed…dreamy…flushed. You glance down and see that his lips are puffy and that he’s biting them softly. He wants more. His hands tremble against your cheeks before moving down your body. “You look so sexy, bun.”

You lean back on the couch and feel your legs instinctively spread. A little laugh ripples through you as you try to close them. “Sorry I…I just…I’ve always wanted this.”

Vessel gently keeps your legs open and massages your inner thighs. His eyes take over your body with reverence as he tries to keep his voice steady. “You have no idea. I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He scoots closer to make out with you and lays between your legs. For once, you’re not chasing some end result. It doesn’t seem like he is either. At times he’d stop kissing your lips just to move to your cheeks. “Such a sweet bunny. I’m sorry but I have to fuck up this friendship.”

“I don’t think this fucks things up, do you?” For a moment you're scared. Scared that maybe this isn’t one of the most exciting and satisfying things of his life too. “Friendship is important but…you’re worth a lot more than that to me. Is that cool…is that…ok for me to admit?”

Vessel lifts his eyebrow and gives you a coy smirk before placing a kiss on your forehead. “We’re going to do this the tried and true way, my dear. We’re going to stay up and talk for as long as we need to…and…” he pauses to lean in and whisper as if you were back in the crowd, “and then, love, I’m going to show you what else I can do for you

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 16

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food and eating

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: open

W♡RD C♡UNT: 1,485

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 21

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy first night of Hanukkah to all who celebrate! Happy Wednesday to everyone who doesn't! Here's a new chapter! (Or happy Thursday if it's the 26th for you)

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You double-check the draws of your desk, making sure you have everything think you’ll need for the second keg of the tour. Your top drawer is filled with snacks that you know Frankie and Wonseok will devour within a week-- if they even let it last that long. But the files you’ve kept on rookie groups and potential idols that you think may debut soon—debut in general— sit in a small box that you’re planning on dropping off at the group of desks that being to the junior writers in your department.

It’s something you should have done when you first got your promotion. You should have tried again before you left the first time, but a part of you thought you could still use the information you gathered over the years. But if the “My Summer a Stay” project with Stray Kids goes well, you’ll spend more time covering already established groups rather than rookies and survival show contestants.

“Getting ready to leave us again, huh?” Yoona, one of the reporters in your department asks as she walks up to your desk.

Saying she’s in your department is a stretch. She works in the entertainment department of the paper like you, Wonseok, and Frankie but she works in the gossip division. More specifically, she’s one of the few people the company hired to work specifically on scandals within the music industry. Calling her your archnemesis is a stretch but while you work to build up careers, she breaks them down. And for that, you dislike her strongly. You don’t even hide it. At least, not well.

“Yeah, the tour is starting up again.” Your voice is flat and even, trying to show as much disinterest in the conversation as you possibly can so she’ll leave you alone sooner.

“I envy you, Y/n.” She sits on the edge of your desk, trapping one of the folders you need to take with you but don’t want to get bent in your bag. “You’re just with these idols all of the time. I can only imagine what you must hear and see…”

That’s why she’s here…

You tilt your head to the side; your eyes widen almost with a childlike wonder. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” She chuckles softly as she leans in closer. “I took a sneak peek at your little secret project. You’re with them all the time. I’m sure you’ve overheard some conversations or even caught a glimpse of what’s on their phones.”

She’s fishing. If it’s for something specific, you’re not sure. You try not to follow scandals too closely. Most of them don’t concern you and are ridiculous. You do know it’s been generally quiet. Not many dating rumors or other false claims have made their rounds on the internet for a while. Anything else would be real news and would require Yoona and the other “reporters” in her division to do actual work before publishing. And you refuse to make their simple jobs easier for them.

“Ah, I…I’m having trouble understanding. Sorry, my Korean is not good…” You do your best to butcher the pronunciation and speak broken Korean, which is harder now after years of speaking it primarily.

Yoona’s eyes narrow as she sits up straighter. “That’s not cute, Y/n.”

“Pardon?” You tilt your head to the other side.

Yoona’s mouth opens and closes before she lets out a little annoyed huff of air. “You’ve been here for half a decade and you write full articles in Korean. Don’t try to act like you don’t know what I’m asking.”

“This is a bit embarrassing but…I use Google Translate to write my articles. I write in English and translate. Please don’t say anything.”

Yoona crosses her arms across her chest, her eyes scan every part of your face. You close your bag and sit back in your chair, trying to not give her the satisfaction that she so desperately craves. Suddenly, the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile that would make the Cheshire cat envious. Her eyes light up, almost like a light bulb went off in her head.

“You do know something, don’t you?”

Oh lovely, she’s delusional.

You look around the office, most of the office is empty with nearly everyone gone for lunch. Still, there are a few people who are working through lunch. Luckily for you, you moved into the main offices right before you left for the first leg of the tour so not many people know you that well. Unluckily for your desk mate, he happens to be working through lunch.

"Um...excuse me? I'm having trouble understanding what she's saying. Can you help?" You bother your desk mate. He looks up from his laptop, completely confused and partially startled by the sudden interaction. You're not sure what he was so focused on but part of you feels bad.

"Uh--"

"Forget it," Yoona waves him off, no longer wanting to participate in your little charade. "Y/n, I know you're hiding something. There's no way you don't know anything. Stop faking,"

"But eonni--"

Buzz, buzz

Your eyes glance over to your phone sitting face up right next to your keyboard. You don't miss the fact that Yoona's eyes also land on your phone. Part of you freezes when you see the word "Eonni" light up on your screen. You quickly snatch your phone and send the call to voicemail as the list of things your sister needs now floods your brain.

"You have your sister in your phone as "eonni?" How curious..." Yoona suggests. You can see the gears turning right through her pupils, working out her next story.

"Whatever convoluted story you're coming up with, scrap it right now." You say firmly.

Buzz, buzz

You let out a swear under your breath as you send your sister to voicemail again, really not wanting to deal with whatever family drama is currently going on.

What time is it over there anyway? Early morning? Late night? Afternoon?

"I'm not doing anything. Is there a story there?" She feigns innocence by tilting her head and speaking in a low, condescending tone.

"I'm serious," You stand up and gather all of your things, yanking the file from under Yoona.

Buzz, buzz

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Yoona smirks. She hops off your desk and starts walking towards the door. "Don't worry, I'll leave you to talk to your "eonni.""

"It's not like..." Your voice dies in your throat as she continues to walk out.

You let out a long, exhausted sigh like a balloon deflating. Your attention is brought back to your phone as it continues to ring in your hand. Pressure builds behind your eyes as you think about what could be so urgent right now. You say a silent prayer to-- whoever will answer at this point--and answer the phone.

"What could you possibly need right now?" Mindful of all of your coworkers still in the office, you try your best not to scream. Still, your tone is harsher than you intended.

"Wow, you send the girl to the other side of the world and she thinks she's so important. She doesn't even answer the phone anymore and yet when she does, she has the audacity to be bitchy. I'm so sorry Your Highness," Your sister scoffs on the other end.

You bite the inside of your cheek, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to stop yourself from saying something that will start an argument. It's the last thing you need today. On top of making sure you have everything you need from work, you've been pulling all-nighters the past couple of weeks you've been home trying to fix what your team failed to understand from your emails and Zoom meetings. You're already dreading how much more work you're going to have to deal with when you get back from this leg of the tour now that there's going to be a large time difference between you and them.

"I'm sorry, I'm at work right now." Balancing your phone between your ear and your shoulder, you do your best to secure your things in your arms as you head over to the elevator.

You press the down button with your foot, miraculously without dropping anything or toppling over, and wait for the elevator to reach your floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I know all about your fancy job all the way in Korea. Jesus, you don't have to brag."

Ding!

You walk into the elevator and press the button for the floor below you where all of the interns and lower-level reporters in your department work. Most of them are probably all out right now so you'll just leave the box of your notes on your old advisor's desk and send her a text.

"I'm about to leave for a meeting. What did you need?" You lie.

"It's about mom,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 1

Summary: You never thought Aegon be like this. You though that he's probably like all the other rich kids who are only upset because daddy didn't given them money. But you couldn't have been more wrong...

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

He hadn't said a word since entering the room, only slouched low in his chair, his bloodshot eyes tracing patterns in the ceiling like he was watching something she couldn’t see. His bleach-blonde hair was messy, like he hadn't bothered to run a comb through it in days, and the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept in even longer.

The silence was unnerving, and she hated it. The ticking clock in the corner of the room sounded like gunfire in the stillness. She cleared her throat and tried to start professionally. "Aegon," she began, her voice soft but steady, "how are you feeling today?"

He chuckled—a low, grating sound that didn’t reach his eyes. "How am I feeling?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isn't that a bit cliché? Isn’t that what all therapists ask? I’m not here for small talk, sweetheart."

The way he said sweetheart made her skin crawl. It wasn’t the word itself but the way it slithered off his tongue, sharp and mocking. She shifted in her seat, trying to maintain her calm. "I’m just trying to understand where you’re at. You don't have to say anything you don’t want to."

He smirked, a twisted, unsettling expression that seemed more like a grimace. "Oh, I bet you want to understand me. You think you're gonna fix me? Is that it? Make me better, turn me into a functioning little cog in this shitty world?"

There was an edge to his voice, something dangerous beneath the surface. His eyes were unfocused, distant, as though she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt a chill settle in her chest, but she pushed forward, reminding herself that this was just another patient. A deeply troubled one, yes, but still just a man. She was trained for this.

"I’m not here to fix you, Aegon," she replied carefully. "I’m here to listen and help if I can."

His head snapped toward her so quickly she flinched. He caught it, of course, and his grin widened, predatory now. "You’re scared of me, aren’t you?" he said softly, like he was sharing a secret. "Good. You should be."

Aegon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at her with intensity that made her skin prickle. "You ever felt like nothing matters, doc? Like every fucking thing is just… pointless? No matter how much you drink, snort, or fuck, it never fills that hole inside you. It just… eats at you, every second of every day, until you can't take it anymore."

His voice was a low growl now, rough around the edges, filled with bitterness. "That's what it’s like in here." He tapped the side of his head, his gaze boring into her, daring her to look away. "Rotten. Empty. Dead. I tried to end it once, you know. Got close, too. But they wouldn’t even let me do that right. My family sent me to you instead. So now here I am, playing the part. But let’s be real—you can't fix this."

There was a rawness to his words that cut through her usual defenses. Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of something she didn’t want to fall into. His pain was palpable, but it wasn’t the pain of someone who wanted to be saved.

"You don't have to believe in this process," she finally said, her voice tight. "But it’s important that you give it a chance."

Aegon tilted his head, studying her like she was some puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes were glassy, unfocused again, and his smile faltered, giving way to something deeper, more sinister. "You’re not like the others," he muttered, almost to himself. "Most of them are easy to read. But you… I can't quite tell if you’re really here to help or if you just like playing the part."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something unnervingly perceptive about him. He wasn’t just a lost soul spiraling into self-destruction—he was calculating, watching her reactions, testing her boundaries. And it was working. She didn’t like how vulnerable she felt under his gaze.

Y/N straightened in her chair, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I’m here to help, Aegon. That’s my job."

He scoffed, leaning back again, dismissive. "Help," he repeated bitterly. "You wanna help? You can't even help yourself."

His words hit harder than she expected, striking at something deep inside her, and for a moment, she faltered. She wasn’t prepared for how sharp he was, how quickly he cut through her professional veneer. There was something primal in the way he spoke, in the way he moved, that felt less like therapy and more like a predator playing with his prey.

"You look tired," he continued, eyes narrowing. "Overworked. You got that hollow look in your eyes, too. Like me. How long before you break, huh? How long before you’re the one on the other side of this desk?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and Aegon’s smile grew wider, more triumphant. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Maybe we’re not so different after all, doc. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as I am."

Y/N’s hand trembled, and she clenched it into a fist, trying to steady herself. She needed to end this session—now. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not to him. "Our time is almost up," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "We’ll continue this next week."

She checked the clock. He was due in ten minutes.

Her hand brushed the edge of her desk, fingers drumming a quiet, nervous rhythm. She told herself it would be fine. She had control. This was her space, her field. But the knot in her stomach tightened with every second that passed.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"Come in" she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

The door swung open, and there he was, leaning casually against the frame, eyes half-lidded like he couldn't be bothered to care about anything. Aegon strolled into the room with an easy arrogance, tossing himself into the chair like he owned the place. He wore the same leather jacket from last week, cigarette burns dotting its sleeve, his jeans ripped and filthy. His disheveled blonde hair caught the afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic glow, which was disturbingly ironic.

"Doc" he greeted, his voice slick and lazy. "Miss me?"

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze. "Aegon," she said calmly, ignoring his provocations. "How are you feeling today?"

He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through the room. "Oh, I'm fantastic. Just spent the last few hours getting plastered. Wanna guess how much vodka it takes before you stop feeling like your head is caving in?"

She hesitated. "Did you... did you drink before coming here?"

Aegon gave her a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Nah, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sober enough to remember your name. For now."

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving hers. "But seriously, let's cut the bullshit. You're not here to ask me how I'm doing. You're here to dissect me, right? Get inside my head. See what makes the fucked-up bitch tick."

Y/N's throat tightened at the way he said bitch-dripping with disdain, self-hatred. His family, the Targaryens, were a wealthy, powerful lineage, tied up politics and scandal. She'd heard the rumors: how Aegon was the black sheep, a public embarrassment, the one they all whispered about behind closed doors. It wasn't hard to see why.

"I'm here to help," she said, trying to regain control of the session. "But that only works if you're willing to engage with the process."

His smirk widened. "You think l'm not engaging? l'm sitting right here, aren't I?" He paused, his gaze growing more intense. "Unless what you really want is for me to spill my guts to you. You want to know what makes me tick, doc? Fine. Let me tell you."

There was something unsettling about the way he shifted in his chair, like a predator getting comfortable before striking. His smile faded, replaced with a cold, hollow expression that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I hate everything," he began, his voice flat, detached. "I hate waking up. I hate breathing. I hate the sound of my own fucking voice. I hate this-" He gestured around the room, his fingers trembling slightly."一all this therapy bullshit. I hate my family. I hate the way they look at me like l'm some broken toy they can't fix."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But you know what I really hate? The fact that no matter what I do, nothing makes me feel alive. Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? It's just noise. All of it. And I'm so fucking tired of feeling empty."

His words hung in the air like smoke, choking the room. Y/N felt the urge to recoil, to put some distance between them, but she couldn't. There was something magnetic about him, a dark pull that made it hard to look away.

"You think I want to be here?" he continued, his eyes burning with intensity. "My family dragged me to this fucking place because I tried to put a bullet in my brain last month. They thought therapy would 'fix' me. But they don't get it. They never did."

He leaned back, letting out a bitter laugh. "But you know what's funny? Sitting here, looking at you, I almost want to believe it. l almost want to see if you can figure me out, doc. Maybe you'll crack the code."

His eyes bored into hers, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw something vulnerable flicker behind the mask- something raw and desperate. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cold sneer.

"You think you can handle that?" he asked softly. "Think you can fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed?"

Y/N's grip on her pen tightened. Her throat felt dry, her palms clammy. There was no easy answer to his question, no textbook response to the way he twisted everything around him into chaos. But she knew one thing-Aegon wasn't just here to be saved. He was here to test her, to see how far he could push before she cracked.

"l'm not here to fix you, Aegon,' she said, repeating her earlier sentiment. "But I am here to listen. To understand."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Listen to what? My sob story? Poor little rich boy, drinking and fucking his way through life, all because he's sad? You really think there's anything left to understand?"

Y/N met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. "I think there's more to you than what you're showing me."

Aegon went still, his smirk vanishing as his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, it felt like the room shrank, the walls closing in, leaving just the two of them in an uncomfortable silence. He stared at her, unblinking, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was peeling back layers she didn't even know existed.

"You really believe that?" he asked quietly, his voice soft for the first time since he walked in. "That there's something worth saving?"

Her chest tightened, but she nodded. "I do."

Aegon let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into fists. His eyes darted to the floor, and for a split second, he looked vulnerable, lost, like a boy drowning in a sea of emotions he couldn't control.

But then the mask was back. The smirk. The mocking tone. "Well, doc" he said, standing up suddenly, towering over her. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements confident and careless, as though he hadn't just let her glimpse the broken pieces hidden beneath the surface.

Just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at her. "I'll be seeing you again, doc. And maybe next time, we'll get to the fun stuff."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the room with the heavy silence that always followed him. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her heart pounding in her chest.

There was something deeply unsettling about Aegon一something that made her feel like she was in way over her head.

The third session was different. The air in Y/N’s office felt heavier, thicker. She could sense it the moment Aegon walked in. His eyes, normally sharp with that mocking edge, were duller today. His movements more erratic. The usual arrogant saunter was replaced by something twitchy, unstable. He slouched into his chair, tapping his leg rapidly, the rhythm almost frantic.

His fingers moved to his mouth, picking at his nails, tearing at the skin until she saw faint streaks of red. He didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“Good morning, Aegon,” Y/N began cautiously, watching him closely. “How are you today?”

He snorted but didn’t look at her, his eyes darting around the room like he was searching for something he’d never find. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he muttered, biting down hard on the side of his nail until it cracked and blood welled up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist, but she kept her voice steady. “It seems like you’re on edge today. Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His leg tapped faster, his jaw tight. “Does it even fucking matter?” he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly as he dug his nails into his palms, leaving angry red marks. "None of this shit matters. Not you, not me. It’s all just... noise."

She stayed silent, giving him space to speak, watching his body language as the tension in the room escalated. He was unraveling, fraying at the edges, and it was becoming harder to predict where he might break.

“I keep thinking about that night,” he said suddenly, his voice hollow. “That night I almost did it.”

He didn’t need to explain further; she knew what he meant. The night he tried to take his own life.

“I was this close, you know?” he continued, holding his fingers up to show just how narrow the gap was between life and death. “But then my fucking family showed up and ruined it. Dragged me out of my misery and threw me into this shitshow. Therapy, rehab, whatever else they think will fix me. But nothing’s going to fix me. I’m not broken. I’m just done.”

Y/N swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “Aegon, I know you’re in pain. But there are other ways to cope. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He snapped his gaze to hers, a sudden wildness flashing in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this is about pain. It’s about being fucking empty. Do you know what that feels like? To be so hollow inside that no amount of drugs, booze, or people can fill it?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “I don’t,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended. “But I’m here to understand. If you’ll let me.”

Aegon’s laughter was bitter, almost manic. “Understand? You think you can understand me? No one understands. Everyone thinks I’m some tragic fucking mess just because I have money and a pretty face, but that’s why they keep coming back, isn’t it? They don’t care if I’m broken. They care because I’m rich, because I’m still good-looking enough for them to pretend for a night that I’m something more.”

He paused, his leg still bouncing, eyes narrowed and locked on hers with unsettling intensity. “Even you. You sit there, all composed and professional, pretending to care. But deep down, I know you don’t. You’re just waiting for your paycheck like the rest of them.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not true, Aegon. I’m here because I want to help.”

He leaned forward abruptly, his eyes wild and feverish. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this matters! You can’t help me, no one can, and I’m so fucking tired of everyone pretending that you can!”

The energy in the room shifted abruptly. His voice rose, turning sharp and angry, his breathing quickening. She could see him unraveling, could feel the way his entire demeanor was changing—darker, more dangerous.

“I’m not some fucking experiment!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he stood up from his chair so suddenly that it toppled over. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Sitting there with your calm face, acting like you’re not fucking scared of me. But I can see it, I can feel it—”

“Aegon, calm down,” Y/N said, her heart racing, hands instinctively tightening around the arms of her chair. “I’m not trying to control you.”

But her words seemed to push him further over the edge. His face twisted with rage, and before she could react, he lunged toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders, his grip almost painful.

“You think you know me?” he shouted, his face inches from hers, tears welling in his eyes. “You think you can fix me? You think you can save me from this hell?”

His grip tightened, shaking her, but before Y/N could register her own fear, something inside her snapped—an instinct she hadn’t known she had. Instead of pulling away, instead of screaming or trying to push him off, she reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

Aegon froze.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly despite the tremor in her own hands, despite the rapid pounding of her heart. “Aegon,” she whispered, her voice steady even though she felt anything but. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

For a moment, he stood there, tense and unresponsive. His body was rigid, his breathing erratic, and she could feel the anger vibrating through him, threatening to explode again. But then, slowly, something shifted. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders so tightly, loosened. His body sagged against hers, like all the fight had drained out of him in one overwhelming rush.

“I’m not okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucked up, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Y/N tightened her arms around him, feeling his hot, uneven breath against her neck. “You don’t have to stop it alone.”

He let out a choked sob, his body trembling against hers as he broke down, the tears he had been holding back spilling over. He clung to her like a lifeline, his face buried in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each quiet, painful sob.

“I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Y/N held him, her own emotions swirling inside her, a mixture of fear, pity, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She stroked his back gently, trying to soothe the storm inside him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you don’t.”

Aegon’s sobs quieted after a while, his grip on her softening but never letting go completely. He pressed his face into her shoulder, his breathing still uneven, but calmer now. The anger and violence had passed, leaving only the raw, vulnerable boy beneath.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours—Aegon clinging to her, and Y/N holding him as if her arms were the only thing tethering him to the world.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. His eyes were red and swollen, his face streaked with tears, and for the first time since they met, she saw him without the mask.

Aegon was broken, but not in the way he pretended to be. Not just a reckless addict or a wealthy, self-destructive mess. He was something else, something much more fragile than she had imagined.

And that scared her more than anything.

He swallowed hard, his voice a quiet rasp. “W-why did you do that?”

Y/N met his gaze, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know why. It was instinct, something she hadn’t planned, something that felt both right and terribly dangerous at the same time.

“Because I wanted to,” she said softly.

Aegon stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to find something—some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him like everyone else had.

Finally, he nodded, and without another word, he leaned back into her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, his breathing evening out as they sat there, together in the quiet, broken pieces of their shared moment.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she was the one trying to save him—or if he was dragging her into the darkness with him.

The room was eerily silent when Aegon walked in this time. The familiar twitch in his leg was absent, the nervous energy that usually radiated off him replaced with something else—something that made Y/N’s skin prickle. His eyes were still as sharp as ever, but now they were focused. Too focused. He looked at her with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.

He sat down slowly, his movements no longer erratic but deliberate. He didn’t fidget, didn’t bite at his nails. Instead, he folded his hands neatly in his lap and leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Good morning, Aegon,” she greeted him cautiously, sensing the shift in his demeanor.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice smoother than she was used to. Calm, almost unnervingly so. He looked... composed. For the first time since they started these sessions, he didn’t seem like a bomb waiting to go off. But something about that felt even more dangerous.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked on hers. “Better,” he said softly. “Much better, actually.”

Y/N hesitated. “That’s good to hear. Do you want to talk about what’s been helping?”

Aegon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve found a new hobby,” he said, his voice almost too casual, like he was talking about something mundane. “Something to keep me... occupied.”

A ripple of unease washed over her. “What kind of hobby?”

Aegon nodded, his eyes gleaming with an odd sort of excitement. “I found this beautiful dove. Just… sitting there, all alone. She's perfect. White feathers, soft. You ever touch a dove before?”

“No,” Y/N said slowly, her stomach beginning to churn.

Aegon’s smile widened. “You should. They’re so fragile, you know? So delicate. It’s like… like holding something that could break if you squeeze too hard.” His fingers twitched, as if mimicking the act of squeezing. “I’ve been taking care of her. Watching her.”

Y/N nodded slowly, unsure where this was going but feeling an icy tendril of dread curl around her spine. “That sounds nice. Taking care of something can be a good way to—”

“I want to rip her wings off.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the casual cruelty in his tone sending a chill down her spine. Aegon’s expression hadn’t changed; he still wore that same unsettling smile.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

His eyes were bright now, shining with an eerie intensity. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About how beautiful she is, but how much better it would be if she couldn’t fly away. If I could keep her with me, forever. If she couldn’t go anywhere else, just… mine.”

Y/N felt the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, keeping her voice steady. “Aegon, that’s—”

“Isn’t that what love is?” he interrupted, his eyes wide, his expression so sincere, so disturbingly genuine. “You love something so much that you can’t stand the thought of it leaving. So you do whatever you have to, to make sure it stays. Even if that means taking something away. Like wings.”

“Aegon, that’s not—”

“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he continued, his voice rising slightly with excitement, as if he had stumbled upon some great revelation. “Why should something so beautiful get to leave? Why should she get to fly away and leave me behind? She doesn’t need wings. She just needs me.”

Y/N felt the room closing in around her, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She had dealt with disturbed patients before, but this… this was different. Aegon wasn’t just unstable. He was dangerous. She could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze bore into her, in the way his words seemed to twist around her, suffocating her.

It had been two weeks since that conversation in her office, and Aegon had come to every session since. Something had shifted after that day—something subtle but unnerving.

The way he looked at her now, the way he lingered on her every movement, made Y/N feel more vulnerable than ever before.

“Morning, Aegon,” Y/N said, her voice steady but her pulse quickening slightly. She had grown used to reading him in subtle ways—the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would twitch against his leg, and that obsessive stare. But today, it felt heavier.

“Morning sweetheart,” he replied smoothly, his voice quiet but deliberate.

Y/N tried to proceed with the session as usual, asking him questions, probing his thoughts, but his answers were vague, almost detached, as if he wasn’t really interested in discussing himself anymore. He wasn’t playing the part of the tragic, self-destructive mess. He was... different.

“You seem a little more composed today,” Y/N commented, keeping her tone neutral. “How are you feeling about everything? Still feeling as empty as before?”

Aegon’s lips twitched into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Empty? No, not so much anymore.” His gaze was fixed on her in a way that made the room feel smaller. “I’ve been... paying attention to other things lately. Other people.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Other people? What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still glued to hers, but his body language more relaxed than usual. “You know, the people around me. The ones who matter. The ones who actually care.”

There was an implication in his words that sent a shiver down her spine. “And who do you think cares, Aegon?”

His smile widened, but it was the kind of smile that felt wrong, too intimate. “You do.”

Y/N blinked, trying to maintain her composure. She had to remind herself that she was the professional here, that this was her job, and she couldn’t let him get under her skin. But the way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.

“I’m here to help you, yes,” she replied calmly. “That’s what therapy is about.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were studying her. “That’s not what I mean.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken again. “You care about me... in a different way.”

Y/N felt her skin prickle with unease. She forced herself to remain professional, to push through the growing discomfort. “Aegon, we’ve talked about this before. My role is to help you as your therapist. Nothing more.”

His smile didn’t falter. “You keep saying that, but we both know there’s more to it. I can see the way you look at me now. You’re not scared anymore. What you said. How you held me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You care.”

“I’m here to help,” she repeated firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Aegon didn’t say anything for a moment. He just watched her, his eyes tracking every movement, every flicker of emotion on her face. It was like he was dissecting her with his gaze, trying to pick her apart piece by piece.

Finally, he leaned forward slightly, his smile fading into something more serious. “You looked really good last night, by the way.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. “What?”

“In your pajamas,” he added, his voice casual, as if he were commenting on the weather. “The ones you wore when you made tea. Light blue, with the little lace trim. You really should wear those more often.”

For a moment, the world around her went silent. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. Aegon was staring at her, unblinking, his expression disturbingly calm, like he had just complimented her on her shoes or her hair.

Her mind raced. How did he know? There was no way he could have seen her last night. Her apartment was on the third floor, and she lived alone. She had made tea before bed, just like every night, but how could he possibly know that?

“Aegon,” she began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “What... what do you mean?”

He just smiled, that same disturbing smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I just think you looked nice, that’s all.”

The room felt like it was closing in on her, her skin crawling with the weight of his words. Her mind reeled, her heart hammering in her chest. How did he know what I was wearing last night?

Her breath came in shallow gasps, the panic rising in her throat as she tried to process the implications. Had he been watching her? Was he following her outside of their sessions? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her.

“Aegon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”

But before he could answer, the soft chime of the clock signaled the end of their session. Aegon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. He stretched, glancing at her with that same unsettling smile, and then made his way to the door.

“I guess we’ll have to pick this up next time,” he said casually, as if they had been discussing nothing more than the weather.

He paused at the door, turning back to look at her one last time, his eyes lingering on her with that same unnerving intensity. “See you soon, Y/N.”

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning with fear and uncertainty.

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, as the weight of his words sank in.

He was watching me.

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 5

Masterpost

“Well, she has survived,” DamiBat said blandly. He had clearly already showered and changed into casual clothes. His robin colors were neatly laid on the usual table. He had been waiting for her. Cass shut the plane door and swooped down to give him a hug.

“You worried,” Cass cooed. She ignored his struggling to get out of her arms. “Very sweet.” 

Damian hissed and tried a nerve strike. She kissed the top of his head and let him escape. 

“Black Bat, report,” demanded the Batdad. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat in the silly way it got inside the cowl. Worried. Fear. Nothing can happen to my baby, not my baby. 

She pranced over to give him a hug as well. He needed to touch her and know that she was real. 

Only when she detached did she consider answering him. “No,” Cass said thoughtfully. “Shower.” 

Batdad unhappily let her go. Cass took the time to get her thoughts into order. 

She did have to say something. 

She changed into comfy clothes and made her way to her computer. Damian had gone upstairs in the interim, and there was no sign of RedJason or Dickiebird. She sat and turned on the screen. Then she turned a stern glare on her family. 

Batdad and Timmybird looked away sheepishly, as if they hadn't meant to stare. 

Cass wrote up a factual report. Arrival time, important parts of conversation with Marvel, the area they had explored and his magical commentary. Then she got to the creepy laboratory. In the corner of her eye, she saw Timmybird tense. 

Cass sighed and spun her chair to face him. 

His shoulders went up guiltily. He meekly reached out and tapped a key. The secret spying of her computer screen ended. “Bad,” she said, because someone had to teach him manners. “Don't look at my screen.”

Tim hunched over a little more. Sorry. Sorry. (Will do it again.) 

Cass let out a heavy sigh and finished her report. She paused over her word choice a few times. 

“You entered an unknown machine, it powered on, and you received an electric shock?” Bruceman Batdad summarized before she had sent him the report.

Cass threw her hands up in disgust. “Stop spying!” She told him. “Stop it!” 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey.” He was sorry. He'd do it again, too. 

Ugh. 

UGH.

“Yes,” black bat confirmed tersely. 

“No lingering symptoms from the shock?” Bruceman Batdad came closer. Hovered. Flap flap, worried bat. “We should do a full check.”

Cass hissed at him, fed up. 

“Master Bruce is correct,” said Alfie. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at her. Little Miss, listen now. Caution is the virtue.

She waited until he wasn't looking to roll her eyes. 

There was no sensible reason to escape. She sulked through the examination. 

“Heart rate is normal,” Alfie narrated for their audience. Cass narrowed her eyes. See? See what you've done? Wasted her time, is what you've done. 

“No pain?” Alfie poked and confirmed. Again and again. No, pain, no pain? Always no pain. “Well then,” he sounded very pleased. She blinked to full attention. “You must have done a very good job taking care of that rib, Miss Cassandra. I must admit I anticipated that there would still be soreness.” 

Cass was very still. Then she nodded. 

Uh. 

Um.

She thought about cartwheels. She thought about vaulting down a flight of stairs. 

Hm. 

…Probably her rib should not be totally healed. 

She weighed internally whether this was troubling to her. On the one hand, it seemed very odd. There was pain a few hours ago. Why no pain now? Pain usually left while she slept, not after flying a plane. Could healing be a side effect of magic girl transformation? Big, if true. Should probably tell her adults. 

On the other hand, no pain was objectively an improvement.

Cass decided to say nothing. Maybe Captain Marvel would have a theory. 

Speaking of. When she got back to her room, she sent him a text message. 

🪄 🧙🏻📞?

The answer came near instantly. 

Not yet! 😭 💔 She isn't answering me. Should I contact Constantine, you think?

Huh. Fast response, very good. Cass sent 

😬 

But 

🕵🏽‍♂️ 🤙🏽 🟰 👌🏽

Lol, wrote Captain Marvel. I know what u mean. 

Cass smacked her lips in the quiet of her room. He probably did. But he oughtn't. Old people had a hard time with her communication style. 

Idly, she lined up a theory. 

Captain Marvel had a magical girl transformation. Captain Marvel seemed too young for his body to her. 

Ergo:

He was baby. 

Cass, all of 17, wasn't that pressed about it. Bats and birds usually started flying and fighting as babies. Damian was still extremely baby. But. Hmm. 

Birds weren't in the Justice League. That was the difference: he had to hide it from Batdad, Superguy, and Wonder. 

Oh. Cass put a hand on her heart and frowned. In her dark room there was no one to see it aching in sympathy. 

Baby Captain was… was a little too baby, emotionally, for the Justice League. 

Well. It was decided, then. The next day at breakfast she announced, “Bruce. New rule.” 

Heads swiveled to look at her. 

“We are entitled to make rules for Father?” Damian asked Alfred, sotto voice. He looked intrigued. Alfie made a face that indicated his answer would depend on what rule Cass made.

Bruce lifted an eyebrow at her in prompt. 

“Stop bullying my Marvel,” she commanded. “He’s-” 

She hesitated and edited out the word “baby”.

“sensitive to hostility,” she settled on.

Bruce got a consternated look. “Sweetheart,” he began. 

“Yes,” Alfred said to Damian, voice extremely soft. “Upon occasion.”

“Play nice,” Cass said firmly. No arguments. She took a pointed bite out of her toast. No more need for words. Eat now.

Tim giggled. When Bruce looked at him he lifted his fork in front of his face, as if the slice of pancake was enough to hide that he was laughing at the pater familias.

“If he said that I'm bullying him,” Batdad started, sounding harassed, “then there must have been some misunderstanding. I've never intended-” 

“No misunderstanding,” Cass denied. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I see. I see his body get small when you use the stern Batdad bigman voice.” 

Bruce grumbled into his hand and turned his face away, defeated. Resentment. Insecurity. Do I really do that?

“Yes, Father,” chimed Damian, who loved to kick the defeated. “Surely this fool quakes at the barest hint of your displeasure. But should he not?” 

Alfred huffed a subtle little laugh at the manipulation. He squeezed Damian's shoulder.

Bruce, thinking that Damian approved of his coworkers fearing the Bat, looked even more constipated. Resignation. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” BatDad settled. Sullen. Embarrassed. Resigned.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Cass said cheerfully. She squeezed her eyes when she smiled at him, because she was also baby. He melted, vanilla ice cream in July.

Damian made a solemn nod of respect out of Bruce's line of sight. She winked back her thanks for the assistance. 

Marvel got back to her not long after. Cass took the call outside, so that Bats could not flap nearby without her noticing. 

“Black Bat!’ he said, excited. “I got Constantine!” 

She blinked at her phone. “...In a trap?” 

“What? No,” he dismissed. “I know where he's going to be this afternoon. Can you come meet me?” 

Cass looked back at the house. “...Yes,” she decided. She was off the patrol roster tonight anyway. “Where are we going?” 

“Uhh….” Marvel's voice trailed off for a bit as he clearly consulted his note or phone or something. “I'll send you the address.” 

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

Good Omens - December reads part #3- fanfics recs 🤓🩷🎄

I ´ve decided to write a short summary each month about the books i read. I need this to let go of the stories, its a nice way of saying good-bye to them and to spread the love to the authors and to you. 🩷

I only read finished stories and rarely one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here, as i really like to dive deep into the plot and i keep losing track of WIPs. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but sadly some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Ratings in ()

Multichapter Fanfics

Dark Literature (E) by @unproblematicme

Well this was a first for me. Human AU with our ineffable loves being exes. Ugh. Lucky for me, Aziraphale is hired by Gabriel to work for the same company on a regular basis. But all of this somehow fades into the background as a haunting starts on the 13th floor of the building. Massive ghoststory and halloween-vibes ensues! 🎃

I'd like to think i still know you (T) by @inherently_human

Human AU. Crowley and Aziraphale went to school together, before life took them on separate paths. Crowley actually detests the thought of the 30years reunion, but ... maybe he would meet Aziraphale again?

Biggest laugh: "Age has not done your eloquence any favors, I see." 😂

The ineffable bride (T) by @theravenmuse

Warlock asks Nanny Astoreth to read him a book he got from the gardener. The story is about a prince named Aziraphale, who fell in love with a farm boy that left to make good fortune, but never came back. Now he is supposed to marry Prince Gabriel.

Happiness, more or less (M) by @mllekurtz

Crowley moves into a flat above a bookshop, glad to have found a short lease. If it weren't for the strange noises in the night ... A ghost story, a love story.

Biggest laugh: "i'm not learning the riddle you have for a name." 😅 I love love love this one. It had me laugh, it had me on the edge and it made me cry. Please give this one a try! 🩷

Intermezzo (E) by @feraltuxedo

Crowley is a former Rockstar, whose career as opera-writer was crashed by Aziraphale Fell's official critique. 10 years later Crowley is offered to write a symphony and get a TV documentary on it, but there is a catch: Aziraphale is the one who will be presenting. Human AU, Enemies to lovers, very nice. Also the author has a way of leading up to and describing explicit scenes that had me wish for more. 😋

The accidental understudy (T) by @appleseeds

Human AU. Aziraphale is the stage manager, when he re-meets with famous actor and former school-collegue Crowley for a play of panto. Sweet fluff ensues as both have had their secret crushes for 30 years.

Love Thy Neighbor (E) by @snae-b

Aziraphale runs a successful bakery blog, but recently he is getting more and more delayed with his posts. The new neighbor is simply a nuisance with his construction noises throughout the day and his loud music in the night. One evening his temper gets the best of him and Aziraphale fists on the door. What will he see, when the door opens? You'll never guess. 😉

Oneshots

Naked in Malibu (E) by @cemeteryangel725

Human AU. Crowley is a famous actor, who is home early from his shoot without telling anyone. And naked. Aziraphale is the hired interior designer, who just so happens to be in Crowley´s home to redesign it. The rest is epic seduction and surprises beneath clothes.

Actually a re-read, as the author gifted us a with a sequel for christmas - see next! 🤓

Naked in New York (E) by @cemeteryangel725

Crowley and Aziraphale have been dating secretly for months now. They both have been falling in love and - of course, these are our beloved idiots! - they have NOT been talking about it. But there is this big red carpet-thingy coming up. Oh no, what is Crowley supposed to do? 😉

Hot Blood, Hot thoughts, Hot Deeds (E) by @supergeek21

Aziraphale sorts the books, when shortky before closing time a strange looking man, dressed all in Black and kind of outdated clothes comes in. He has quite some sharp teeth, too ... 🧛‍♂️🦇

The Serpent King (T) by @angela345

After the death of his father, King Gabriel rules the country. But a curse seems to have befallen the former prosperous kingdom. So knights are being sent out to the Serpent King of the neighbouring kingdom. Will they be able to break the spell? A fairytale.

Stocking Stuffers (E) by @cemeteryangel725

Yes, i know - this is the 3rd rec for @cemeteryangel725 in this blog alone. What can i say - she is a glorious (smut)writer. 😁 In this one we meet again with our beloved husbands from the human AU "Of fire and falcons", which you should definitely read, too. In this oneshot Crowley does a little christmas-strip for his Santaziraphale. 🌶️🎅

Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boutique (T) by @dragonfire42

Aziraphale goes shopping with Jim to dress him up for the ball ... Sweet!

The Snake Prince (T) by @LTRisback

Aziraphale takes a walk and bumps into a snake - a talking snake. He offers to save him from the cold and takes him to his bookshop.

Sweet, short fairytale i found bc of another artist who made this beautiful Art to it @rocas-are-doing-well

Only Ever Meant For Someone Else (T) by @di-42

Human AU. Every year the night before christmas, Aziraphale drives his passengers for free as an act of charity. This year, when he has finally finished his shift, there is a commotion behind him. Realising the other driver has wrecked his bentley, he offers to take him to the hospital, where his - presumably - wife Anathema is in labour.

Beautiful little christmas story, seasoned with a bit of angst and a happy ending. 🎄

Biggest laugh: “Of course. I can see how this entire predicament is very clearly her fault.” 😅

I loved this story and it stayed with me for several days.

All the pretty girls (T) by @spectrallydistracted

Crowley has made a pact with Ana to date each week for a whole year - or as long as it takes to find a partner. Sadly all the pretty girls never click. Unlike the very male barista Aziraphale ... 😉

So thats 16 stories this time, next year i will start counting for the whole year, just for the fun of it. 🥳

Found something you like? Spread the love with kudos, sharing and loving 😅🩷

Have a wonderfull start to 2025! 🎆

[noellefan101]

Stealing Their Hoodie-Genshin

Characters: Tighnari, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Cyno, Xiao, Albedo x gn! reader

Summary: You steal his hoodie, what do you think abt it + what do they think abt it

Warnings: established relationship, modern au(i guess), you´re shorter than him, studying(albedo)

Note: i really hope you like this. it was honestly a pain to write three fics in a row, but i´m still alive i guess(if i don´t post in the next week im dead). also, i´m changing my theme a little, luv you.

Tighnari

you really wanted to try out his hoodie, he always wears it and it looked really comfy. you just didn´t know if he would get mad if you tried it on. it was his favorite hoodie and you didn´t want to make him mad if he didn´t like you wearing it/I'd say he´s really scary when he´s mad, like a mad mom kinda scary/. anyway, when you put it on you really didn´t want to take it off, it was just soooo comfy, and warm, and soft, and big, and... you get it. you were so lost in the comfiness and the smell of his perfume, that you didn´t realize someone just came home. yeah, unfortunately you were caught. at least he wasn´t mad, well... maybe a little, but that was mainly because you could´ve just asked instead.

one of the last things he wants you to be is a thief, just ask next time.

Wanderer/Scaramouche

he looked so good in it, you wanted to try it too. but the only problem was, that your boyfriend had a lot of temper. and you didn´t know if he would react badly/or just kill you on the spot/so you thought about asking, but got scared of the thought immediately. so the day of the week he wasn´t home you went for it, and you found it and tried it on. just as you thought, it looked really pretty on you. and it was really comfy too. the only thing that was wrong, he was coming home early as a surprise, and of course he didn´t tell you(ofc you didn´t its a f*''*ing surprise, why tf did i write that). but i guess he surprised you more than he thought, because he also surprised himself. he may have tried to ignore it, but you could clearly tell he noticed by his light red cheeks. but it was only because you looked really good in it.

he´ll be surprising you a lot more, to reveal all your secrets.

Cyno

his cloak from the manga as a hoodie omg give. me. one... 'cough cough' anyway, you really liked this one hoodie he had, why it was reeeaally big and looked oh-so-comfy. you really wanted to try it out, but you didn´t know how he would react if you asked. and you were kinda scared of it. sure he was not as scary around you, but you hadn´t done anything like this before, so how would you know how he would be if you did. sooooo you decided to "borrow" one of his hoodies while he was out. and, just as you thought, it was really comfortable and really big on you too, and as a bonus, it smelled like him. you eventually fell asleep in it, and didn´t wake up when Cyno came home either. he just looked at you confused as to why you were wearing his hoodie, but ignored it and brought you to bed. when you woke up he just started telling bad hoodie jokes, while you looked like a fresh tomato, great.

he would love you even more if you´d laugh at his jokes.

Xiao

you first liked the big hoodie he wears in the winter, it looked comfy and was big on him, therefore bigger on you. you wanted to try it on, but didn´t know how to ask. you did think about asking but was afraid of him reacting badly. so one day, when he wasn´t home, you just took a look into his closet and chose something you would want to wear. you chose this big blue and black, though mostly blue, hoodie since he wears it a lot. and when you put it on you, you fell in love, it was way to big on you, and it smelled exactly like him. but you didn´t really want to take it off just yet, and kept it on for the rest of the day. and then... xiao came home, he didn´t see his hoodie on you immediately, but could sense that something was different. but when he finally noticed, he just blushed a little. kidding he looked like a fresh tomato/very pretty one/and didn´t want to talk to you for a little, but it was fine in the end. and he eventually got over it.

no he´s not cute when blushing, or at least he doesn´t want to admit it.

Albedo

you see, he had this one hoodie he wore all the time/it´s mostly while he´s studying, but he does that a lot/and there was just something about it that you really liked. maybe it was how big it looked on him/meaning bigger on you/or maybe it was only the fact that it's his. soooo... when he was out for a group project, where he couldn´t wear his studying hoodie(yes im gonna call it that)because that wouldn´t be appropriate. so, you just took a little look in his closet, finding his hoodie and put it on. and as you thought it was way to big on you, but it was really comfy. and it also smelled like him, the perfume he uses, mixed with his shampoo. the only problem was just that albedo was coming home early/because he´s a genius, so they finished quickly/and you didn´t know. so when he got home you both got a surprise, you didn´t know he would be coming home early, and he saw you in his hoodie. he wasn´t mad or anything, but he just didn´t know how to react/he thought you looked cute in it though/.

he didn´t know this was what he would be coming home to.

Thank you for reading this thing, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Brian Merchant’s “Blood In the Machine”

Tomorrow (September 27), I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine. On October 2, I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab.

In Blood In the Machine, Brian Merchant delivers the definitive history of the Luddites, and the clearest analysis of the automator's playbook, where "entrepreneurs'" lawless extraction from workers is called "innovation" and "inevitable":

https://www.littlebrown.com/titles/brian-merchant/blood-in-the-machine/9780316487740/

History is written by the winners, and so you probably think of the Luddites as brainless, terrified, thick-fingered vandals who smashed machines and burned factories because they didn't understand them. Today, "Luddite" is a slur that means "technophobe" – but that's neither fair, nor accurate.

Luddism has been steadily creeping into pro-labor technological criticism, as workers and technology critics reclaim the term and its history, which is a rich and powerful tale of greed versus solidarity, slavery versus freedom.

The true tale of the Luddites starts with workers demanding that the laws be upheld. When factory owners began to buy automation systems for textile production, they did so in violation of laws that required collaboration with existing craft guilds – laws designed to ensure that automation was phased in gradually, with accommodations for displaced workers. These laws also protected the public, with the guilds evaluating the quality of cloth produced on the machine, acting as a proxy for buyers who might otherwise be tricked into buying inferior goods.

Factory owners flouted these laws. Though the machines made cloth that was less durable and of inferior weave, they sold it to consumers as though it were as good as the guild-made textiles. Factory owners made quiet deals with orphanages to send them very young children who were enslaved to work in their factories, where they were routinely maimed and killed by the new machines. Children who balked at the long hours or attempted escape were viciously beaten (the memoir of one former child slave became a bestseller and inspired Oliver Twist).

The craft guilds begged Parliament to act. They sent delegations, wrote petitions, even got Members of Parliament to draft legislation ordering enforcement of existing laws. Instead, Parliament passed laws criminalizing labor organizing.

The stakes were high. Economic malaise and war had driven up the price of life's essentials. Workers displaced by illegal machines faced starvation – as did their children. Communities were shattered. Workers who had apprenticed for years found themselves graduating into a market that had no jobs for them.

This is the context in which the Luddite uprisings began. Secret cells of workers, working with discipline and tight organization, warned factory owners to uphold the law. They sent letters and posted handbills in which they styled themselves as the army of "King Ludd" or "General Ludd" – Ned Ludd being a mythical figure who had fought back against an abusive boss.

When factory owners ignored these warnings, the Luddites smashed their machines, breaking into factories or intercepting machines en route from the blacksmith shops where they'd been created. They won key victories, with many factory owners backing off from automation plans, but the owners were deep-pocketed and determined.

The ruling Tories had no sympathy for the workers and no interest in upholding the law or punishing the factory owners for violating it. Instead, they dispatched troops to the factory towns, escalating the use of force until England's industrial centers were occupied by literal armies of soldiers. Soldiers who balked at turning their guns on Luddites were publicly flogged to death.

I got very interested in the Luddites in late 2021, when it became clear that everything I thought I knew about the Luddites was wrong. The Luddites weren't anti-technology – rather, they were doing the same thing a science fiction writer does: asking not just what a new technology does, but also who it does it for and who it does it to:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

Unsurprisingly, ever since I started publishing on this subject, I've run into people who have no sympathy for the Luddite cause and who slide into my replies to replicate the 19th Century automation debate. One such person accused the Luddites of using "state violence" to suppress progress.

You couldn't ask for a more perfect example of how the history of the Luddites has been forgotten and replaced with a deliberately misleading account. The "state violence" of the Luddite uprising was entirely on one side. Parliament, under the lackadaisical leadership of "Mad King George," imposed the death penalty on the Luddites. It wasn't just machine-breaking that became a capital crime – "oath taking" (swearing loyalty to the Luddites) also carried the death penalties.

As the Luddites fought on against increasingly well-armed factory owners (one owner bought a cannon to use on workers who threatened his machines), they were subjected to spectacular acts of true state violence. Occupying soldiers rounded up Luddites and suspected Luddites and staged public mass executions, hanging them by the dozen, creating scores widows and fatherless children.

The sf writer Steven Brust says that the test to tell whether someone is on the right or the left is simple: ask whether property rights are more important than human rights. If the person says "property rights are human rights," they are on the right.

The state response to the Luddites crisply illustrates this distinction. The Luddites wanted an orderly and lawful transition to automation, one that brought workers along and created shared prosperity and quality goods. The craft guilds took pride in their products, and saw themselves as guardians of their industry. They were accustomed to enjoying a high degree of bargaining power and autonomy, working from small craft workshops in their homes, which allowed them to set their own work pace, eat with their families, and enjoy modest amounts of leisure.

The factory owners' cause wasn't just increased production – it was increased power. They wanted a workforce that would dance to their tune, work longer hours for less pay. They wanted unilateral control over which products they made and what corners they cut in making those products. They wanted to enrich themselves, even if that meant that thousands starved and their factory floors ran red with the blood of dismembered children.

The Luddites destroyed machines. The factory owners killed Luddites, shooting them at the factory gates, or rounding them up for mass executions. Parliament deputized owners to act as extensions of law enforcement, allowing them to drag suspected Luddites to their own private cells for questioning.

The Luddites viewed property rights as just one instrument for achieving human rights – freedom from hunger and cold – and when property rights conflicted with human rights, they didn't hesitate to smash the machines. For them, human rights trumped property rights.

Their bosses – and their bosses' modern defenders – saw the demands to uphold the laws on automation as demands to bring "state violence" to bear on the wholly private matter of how a rich man should organize his business. On the other hand, literal killing – both on the factory floor and at the gallows – was not "state violence" but rather, a defense of the most important of all the human rights: the rights of property owners.

19th century textile factories were the original Big Tech, and the rhetoric of the factory owners echoes down the ages. When tech barons like Peter Thiel say that "freedom is incompatible with democracy," he means that letting people who work for a living vote will eventually lead to limitations on people who own things for a living, like him.

Then, as now, resistance to Big Tech enjoyed widespread support. The Luddites couldn't have organized in their thousands if their neighbors didn't have their backs. Shelley and Byron wrote widely reproduced paeans to worker uprisings (Byron also defended the Luddites in the House of Lords). The Brontes wrote Luddite novels. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was a Luddite novel, in which the monster was a sensitive, intelligent creature who merely demanded a say in the technology that created him.

The erasure of the true history of the Luddites was a deliberate act. Despite the popular and elite support the Luddites enjoyed, the owners and their allies in Parliament were able to crush the uprising, using mass murder and imprisonment to force workers to accept immiseration.

The entire supply chain of the textile revolution was soaked in blood. Merchant devotes multiple chapters to the lives of African slaves in America who produced the cotton that the machines in England wove into cloth. Then – as now – automation served to obscure the violence latent in production of finished goods.

But, as Merchant writes, the Luddites didn't lose outright. Historians who study the uprisings record that the places where the Luddites fought most fiercely were the places where automation came most slowly and workers enjoyed the longest shared prosperity.

The motto of Magpie Killjoy's seminal Steampunk Magazine was: "Love the machine, hate the factory." The workers of the Luddite uprising were skilled technologists themselves.

They performed highly technical tasks to produce extremely high-quality goods. They served in craft workshops and controlled their own time.

The factory increased production, but at the cost of autonomy. Factories and their progeny, like assembly lines, made it possible to make more goods (even goods that eventually rose the quality of the craft goods they replaced), but at the cost of human autonomy. Taylorism and other efficiency cults ended up scripting the motions of workers down to the fingertips, and workers were and are subject to increasing surveillance and discipline from their bosses if they deviate. Take too many pee breaks at the Amazon warehouse and you will be marked down for "time off-task."

Steampunk is a dream of craft production at factory scale: in steampunk fantasies, the worker is a solitary genius who can produce high-tech finished goods in their own laboratory. Steampunk has no "dark, satanic mills," no blood in the factory. It's no coincidence that steampunk gained popularity at the same time as the maker movement, in which individual workers use form digital communities. Makers networked together to provide advice and support in craft projects that turn out the kind of technologically sophisticated goods that we associate with vast, heavily-capitalized assembly lines.

But workers are losing autonomy, not gaining it. The steampunk dream is of a world where we get the benefits of factory production with the life of a craft producer. The gig economy has delivered its opposite: craft workers – Uber drivers, casualized doctors and dog-walkers – who are as surveilled and controlled as factory workers.

Gig workers are dispatched by apps, their faces closely studied by cameras for unauthorized eye-movements, their pay changed from moment to moment by an algorithm that docks them for any infraction. They are "reverse centaurs": workers fused to machines where the machine provides the intelligence and the human does its bidding:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur

Craft workers in home workshops are told that they're their own bosses, but in reality they are constantly monitored by bossware that watches out of their computers' cameras and listens through its mic. They have to pay for the privilege of working for their bosses, and pay to quit. If their children make so much as a peep, they can lose their jobs. They don't work from home – they live at work:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/22/paperback-writer/#toothless

Merchant is a master storyteller and a dedicated researcher. The story he weaves in Blood In the Machine is as gripping as any Propublica deep-dive into the miserable working conditions of today's gig economy. Drawing on primary sources and scholarship, Blood is a kind of Nomadland for Luddites.

Today, Merchant is the technology critic for the LA Times. The final chapters of Blood brings the Luddites into the present day, finding parallels in the labor organizing of the Amazon warehouse workers led by Chris Smalls. The liberal reformers who offered patronizing support to the Luddites – but didn't imagine that they could be masters of their own destiny – are echoed in the rhetoric of Andrew Yang.

And of course, the factory owners' rhetoric is easily transposed to the modern tech baron. Then, as now, we're told that all automation is "progress," that regulatory evasion (Uber's unlicensed taxis, Airbnb's unlicensed hotel rooms, Ring's unregulated surveillance, Tesla's unregulated autopilot) is "innovation." Most of all, we're told that every one of these innovations must exist, that there is no way to stop it, because technology is an autonomous force that is independent of human agency. "There is no alternative" – the rallying cry of Margaret Thatcher – has become our inevitablist catechism.

Squeezing the workers' wages conditions and weakening workers' bargaining power isn't "innovation." It's an old, old story, as old as the factory owners who replaced skilled workers with terrified orphans, sending out for more when a child fell into a machine. Then, as now, this was called "job creation."

Then, as now, there was no way to progress as a worker: no matter how skilled and diligent an Uber driver is, they can't buy their medallion and truly become their own boss, getting a say in their working conditions. They certainly can't hope to rise from a blue-collar job on the streets to a white-collar job in the Uber offices.

Then, as now, a worker was hired by the day, not by the year, and might find themselves with no work the next day, depending on the whim of a factory owner or an algorithm.

As Merchant writes: robots aren't coming for your job; bosses are. The dream of a "dark factory," a "fully automated" Tesla production line, is the dream of a boss who doesn't have to answer to workers, who can press a button and manifest their will, without negotiating with mere workers. The point isn't just to reduce the wage-bill for a finished good – it's to reduce the "friction" of having to care about others and take their needs into account.

Luddites are not – and have never been – anti-technology. Rather, they are pro-human, and see production as a means to an end: broadly shared prosperity. The automation project says it's about replacing humans with machines, but over and over again – in machine learning, in "contactless" delivery, in on-demand workforces – the goal is to turn humans into machines.

There is blood in the machine, Merchant tells us, whether its humans being torn apart by a machine, or humans being transformed into machines.

Brian and I are having a joint book-launch tomorrow night (Sept 27) at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-internet-con-by-cory-doctorow-blood-in-the-machine-by-brian-merchant-tickets-696349940417

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/26/enochs-hammer/#thats-fronkonsteen

[sthavoc]

I was thinking about Enzo and the reader, who's a famous actress, finally telling everyone that they are dating after months keeping their relationship as a secret bc they weren't well seen by the media.

I thought it could be inspires by endgame, since both have big reputations and are an endgame couple.

I see them like I used to see Vincent Cassel and Monica Belluci or Jane Birkin and Serge.

𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x actress!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: enzo and you become the spotlight after revealing you are together by showing up together to an event, and doing an interview.

·˚ ༘ warnings: mentions of media hate

·˚ ༘ note: these secret relationship tropes are well loved. this one’s a small one. i’m sorry if I missed any grammar mistakes.

Being the end game couple. Always in the cards.

Everything with Enzo was like an ideal for you, a secret dream. In the acting industry, there are three types of people, fans. The ones that care(sometimes too much), the ones that don’t, and the ones that don’t really involve themselves in anything. The media wasn’t sure if they wanted you and Enzo to be together, as there had been things about you in the media. Or had big enemies.

But come on, Enzo’s heard of them all and the man did not care. Enzo knew that one thing was the media and the other was real life. He would read that you were crazy, but you were the opposite of everything he would see.

Then there was when fans from both sides wanted the two of you to be together. Having a big reputation came with its outlay. Being known everywhere you would step into, and having people know everything about your business. Figured you out in everything. But also being the it girl and guy of the era. You’ve been in the industry a little longer than Enzo, so everyone knew who you were. Had been in many hit films. While Enzo had just become the talk of the media, being the man every girl was obsessed with.

So of course when you and Enzo got to the red carpet, you both became the big conversation of everyone around that venue. The cameras that flashed, and interviewers trying to get your attention, were a hell of a show.

“No estabas mintiendo cuando dijiste que toda la atención iba a estar en nosotros.” Enzo moved his lips but didn’t withdraw his eyes from the lenses. Hands were set on your hip giving gentle squeezes.

“Te dije.” You did the same thing as him on keeping your sight focused on the cameras.

Pose after pose and you finally had decided to move on to an interview, where you knew, questions about the two of you were about to be asked.

“¡T/N! ¡Enzo! Que gusto verlos.” The interviewer welcomed.

The microphone was set between the two for the both of you to gab into. “¡Hola!”

The first thing her eyes caught a glimpse of was the interlocking hands of you and Enzo. “Veo que vienen juntos.”

“Sí, decidimos que— que ya era tiempo de revelar nuestra relación.” Your eyes glanced at Enzo who nodded at you with a smile.

“¡Ay, son pareja! ¡Que lindo!” She dragged the last syllable on her tongue. “¿Cuánto llevan?”

You chose to leave this question to Enzo. “Cuatro meses.”

The look of surprise fell upon her face. “Que gusto por ustedes. ¡Pero que guapos se ven los dos! T/N te ves hermosa con ese vestido.” She gestures for the camera to do a run of your dress.

You had a red dress that had a tad of puffiness on it, leaving it free to move every time you walked, and the sleeves fell over your shoulders in a princess style. “Ay, gracias.”

“Y Enzo, guapísimo con este traje.” The interviewer turned towards Enzo, who only looked down at his suit.

“Muchas gracias.” He does his signature move, by placing his hand on his chest.

The interviewer continued asking a couple of questions about each of your careers, but you knew the relationship ones were coming momentarily or later. Have to leave the fairest for last, No?

“¿Y ustedes como se sienten a qué pronto van a ser la boca de todo mundo?” Bingo. There was the question.

You sighed, straining to find your words. “Pues, un poco nerviosos no lo vamos a negar. Pero ya queríamos dejar de escondernos. Y decidimos que tampoco nos va a importar lo que diga la gente.” You gave her a nod that she reflected.

You and Enzo had your ups and downs through the relationship, but you always managed to rise and stay in the middle where nothing could affect you and keep it leveled. Always being the end game that you were.

“Pues muchas felicidades a los dos y estoy muy contenta por ustedes. Pásenla bien.” She lets the both of you walk away into the other millions of people around.

“Eso estuvo mejor de lo que esperé.” Enzo chuckles, feeling a sort of solace. “Pero es solo el comienzo.”

And he was right. This was just the beginning of a rollercoaster full of emotions. With both of you being the talk of the industry, and having two of the most successful actors together, it was something monumental. If it was already making an impact you didn’t even want to know how much heftier it could get.

Though you had your premises.