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call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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Oh Lauren @emotionalcadaver, I am happy you liked this little cameo. Lucy is such a great and complex OC, she definitely deserved to be featured in another work. I am honored you're allowing me to use her in my work (with mention of you of course). This is certainly not the last time we'll see her in my work.😊 I hope you enjoyed my indirect portrayal of her. I felt like she was indeed the kind of girl to gift weapons. It was so Lucy-coded. 😂 Also the same thoughts cross my mind: considering the harsh past and how bad the family has been with them, I'm pretty sure they would get along. Somehow, it's Tommy she hates, not his acquaintances.

Regarding Arthur, he's very much in pain right? He's a very emotional character so add this to his deep co-dependency with Heaven and you get an emotional mess. But Aunt Pol's there. Now, you're not the first to mention me about that kiss and while I don't want to spoil anything, I can already tell you that it's not the last time we'll talk about the kiss. It's going to have consequences.😈

THANK YOU. Despite their burning love and obsession, Heaven is not necessarily going to forgive him instantly. She's her own character, with her own flaws and moral values. But you put it much better than I do: she doesn't forgive but she doesn't push him away either. All she wants now is a proof she can still trust him so she's like "wait and see".

Aah I couldn't trick you then!You've got some great sixth sense so, yeah, a baby is coming!! But I have to agree with you: the timing is absolutely awful and she knows it. 😜

Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I'm in such a bad mood today so I really needed this. Love you! 🖤

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Danger lurks in every corner of Small Heath now, a place in which you're forced to stay. A place where Changretta and Section D are ready to get you. As you're trying to work things out with Arthur following your violent argument, Polly tells you something that will definitely complicate your role in the Vendetta.

Words: 6.8k

TW: Angst, mention of drug use, canonical violence, mention of murder, mention of self-harm, co-dependent relationship, grieving.

Notes:

✞ This is chapter 13 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense and better.

✞ Quite a long chapter I admit, certainly the longer. The future chapters won't be as long I swear -- it's just that there was a lot of small "plot twists".

✞ Lucy is @emotionalcadaver's OC.

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The thick fog of the night danced in front of the car’s headlights, swirling at the wind’s discretion. The driver, keeping an eagle eye on your dainty silhouette, had started the engine as soon as he saw you storming out of your house, disheveled and crying. He only waited five seconds before driving at a very slow pace, scanning the misty streets of foul-smelling Small Heath to find you. For a short while, he was convinced you had managed to escape from his watch and, admittedly, the persistent fog only complicated the task further. “Fucking bitch”, he pestered, turning left on the next street as the car’s wheels squealed against the wet concrete of the road but you didn’t hear, far too deafened by the unremitting drumming of your own heart. You stopped your race near a field, and sat on a small wall, feeling your body wear out now that the adrenaline's effects were dispersing. Once settled, you buried your face in your cold palms and squeezed your eyes shut. Where should you go? What should you do? Were all of Arthur's promises empty? What will happen to your marriage now? Will Tommy keep ruining your life? All these questions played on repeat in your skull, like the unsettling loop of a broken record echoing in a murky abandoned house. And along the haunting tune resonated your and Arthur's voice, from a not-so-far memory.

"I'll marry you one day."

"You're already married, Arthur."

"I don't bloody care, it's you I want ay. Fook Linda, fook the family, fook the rest of the world. It's you. It has always been you."

A shiver ran down your spine as your mind went back to the night you had this conversation. You could almost feel the warm sensation of his naked skin against yours, as he cradled you to his chest, legs entangled, and his cologne all over your bedsheet. The first time you made love.

"Listen, I know you're scared and I know I’ve got a bad reputation. But if you give me the chance to be your man, I swear to God you'll be the only one for me. Look at ya. How could I want another woman? They can all die. I'll never, fucking never, cheat on you."

"But with Linda--"

"It ain't the same. We're talking about you. My sweet angel. My soul mate. My saving grace. The other part of me broken self."

"... Alright. Promise it then."

"Cross me heart and hope to die."

"No drugs either? Like, a bit of snow occasionally never killed anyone but apart from this, no relapse okay?"

"No drugs but..." He paused, gently taking your hand in his, and kissed all your fingers one by one "But in exchange I want ye to stop hurting yourself. I saw the inside of your thighs so please, no more cuts ay?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." You smiled, interlocking your little fingers together in a sweet pinky promise.

You pressed one trembling hand against your mouth at the bittersweet memory, tears tingling your eyes and blurring your vision. A muffled sob escaped from your plumped lips, then a second, and finally tears came in waterfalls. It's been a long time since you really cried, and here you were. Weeping like a lost kid.

Despite the darkness of the night and the patchy coat of the fog, the stalker caught sight of the long crimson streaks that ran down one of your frail arms. He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue as his hand reached for the gun hidden in the glove box. Finally, he thought, he was a short moment away from a very sweet vengeance he had spent years carefully planning. A little excited sigh escaped from his mouth while his fingers caressed the cold barrel of the gun, already aroused at the idea of pointing the canon against your head the moment he would force you to get in his car. Even if he knew that the wisest thing to do after your capture was to drive you to them, he thought about going on a little stroll with you. Maybe he'll bring you to an isolated land to shove you on the muddy ground, and make you regret the day you decided to murder his brother in the small mountainous town of Haute-Falaise. Only after he had ruined you enough, stealing every ounce of your dignity, he would drive you to Section D's headquarters. With a bit of luck, he could keep hurting you a little bit more before they decide to pull the trigger and repaint the walls with the contents of your brain.

The roots of his hatred had started the day he realized that each time he closed his lids, his brother's eyes haunted him. Or at least, the two hollow and dark holes on his face since his eyes had been gouged out. There was also the blood, running from his mouth, ears, nose, and even streaming down his cheeks in crimson tears. Maybe he should have listened to the local police when they told him not to look at the corpse, but he had to do it. To his questions, even the forensic pathologist couldn’t answer. The only certainty the experts agreed on was that Christian’s lungs and heart had been smashed to a pulp from the inside and that he had stab wounds all over his body such as the four other corpses found. Five corpses and nothing else. The murderer was nowhere to be seen: no one had witnessed something, not even heard the slightest muffled scream. It was as if Death came, struck them with his scythe, and left without a trace.

Closer. A little bit closer...

You jumped at the sudden and unexpected sensation of a man’s hand squeezing your frail shoulder. As nimble as a cat and as quick as a lightning bolt, you jumped from the wall and unsheathed the dagger you kept hidden in your right lace garter, “Who the fuck are you?!” You hissed, voice burning with fury and frozen eyes darting at the stranger. You had been so quick to react that the man, vaguely confused by what just happened, found himself in quite a poor situation. Indeed, he didn’t expect a young woman to press the tip of a sharp blade against his carotid artery, ready to slit it. God knew he was a fearless fighter, but you had been too unpredictable, even for him. And yet, he didn’t move nor particularly react despite the unpleasant surprise.

“Heaven Shelby?” He asked.

You frowned and bared your teeth at this unfamiliar voice calling you by your name. If marrying Arthur Shelby had taught you what real love was, you had also learned how to become even more deadly than you already were. Seemed like the Shelby's wariness had turned you feral.

“Make one more step and I’ll bleed you like a fucking pig.” You warned. The cold wind of the night blew in your hair, making your long white locks dance behind you like the ghostly veiled of a dead bride. He frowned, unsettled by its uncommon color. What disturbed him the most though was maybe the pale and haunting color of your eyes, whose shade reminded him of two cursed aquamarine stones.

“Mrs. Shelby. I mean no harm, ‘specially not when facing such a young and delicate lady,” He started, the corner of his lips stretching in a fathomless smile despite the awe you inspired him. His small and cunning fox-like eyes squinted as he grinned. Somehow, he didn't seem to mind the blade that was still threatening him as if such a situation was casual -- and it was. If anything, he was impressed by your fierceness and the hatred that shone in your iris, which created a striking contrast with your little frame and doll face, “Well not as delicate as I’ve been told.” His smile widened at his own comment, “It’s dangerous out’here m’lady, I’ve spotted you by chance and thought I’d bring you home safe.”

“Dangerous.” You snorted, unable to hold your sarcasm. “Get the fuck away from me.” Each word from your mouth was dripping with caustic vitriol, leaving no doubt about your hostility and lethal potential. Judging by your quick and deadly reaction, you were certainly more than capable of taking care of yourself -- in truth, he could tell you wouldn't hesitate to end his life. But instead of backing up, the man carefully brought his fingertips on the shining surface of the dagger and pried it away from his throat in a slow movement without breaking eye contact with you.

“A car is following you.” He informed you.

“What?” This phrase hit you like a train, impairing the fierceness and self-confidence you’ve been showing. Surveying your surroundings quickly, you did notice the shadow of a car not so far away in the distance with its headlights shut and two glistening eyes staring at you from the driver's seat. The moment the shadow understood that you had spotted him, the car headed away from you in a loud engine roar and disappeared in the misty night. Fuck, the lad was right: someone had followed you. You sniffed, still in shock, and quickly wiped your tears with the brush of one knuckle before tricking your anxiety into focusing on your unexpected savior again. Your armed hand might be hanging loosely from your slim body, but your fingers were still firmly wrapped around the dagger’s handle. It was an expensive and deadly blade, gifted by one mysterious red-head woman whose hair reminded you of a wildfire. You had trouble remembering the name — Lucy? Something like this. What you knew though was that this troubled soul was called ‘Tommy’s little spy” by the Shelby's family, but since you couldn’t care less about your in-law’s personal life you didn’t investigate further. The girl had been nice with you, that was all that mattered.

Even armed and feral, you felt vulnerable. At your big confused eyes and at the sight of mascara running down your cheeks, the man couldn’t help but feel sorry for you. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you could pass off for his daughter or maybe because you were just a few years older than his own son? He slightly tilted his body to one side to let the weak beam of street light disclose his face and overall appearance: long and messy gray hair, thin lips, small glistening eyes, and a mysterious and slightly disturbing grin.

“Mrs. Shelby, you should come with me.” He advised, then he extended his arm, about to lay his strong hand on your shoulder a second time when you stepped back to avoid his touch with a dissuasive hiss. He stopped, “Lemme bring you back to your husband. It’s Arthur Shelby, ‘m I right?” This time, he simply offered you his palm and waited for you to make the first step. You replied to his invitation by looking dagger at him: if your eyes could kill, this one would already be sleeping with the fishes.

“No.” You protested, as stubborn as a Shelby by birth. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the mention of Arthur, the thought of him coming back home all coked up and intoxicated was still fueling your rage like gasoline thrown at a destructive fire. The last thing you wanted at the moment was to see your husband. If someone had asked you, you’d have answer that what you sincerely wanted was John and his comforting arms. John and his beaming smile. John and his way of teasing you, his jokes, his softness, his cockiness... Yes, that was John you wanted, and you wanted him now. But the cruel truth was that John wasn’t there anymore. He was lying dead and cold in a morgue, leaving you with nothing but the insufferable pain of his loss and your head screaming. “I don’t want to see him.” You asserted and fled the man’s gaze, who soon understood the situation — with age came experience, and from experience he could recognize the aching expression of a young woman wounded by the hazards of love. These Shelby men… He thought with a certain disdain. Oh, he had not been irreproachable all his life either, but a woman’s heart was a gift he missed every day of his life since his wife’s death. The mysterious lad softly reached for your wrist and, not minding your feral nature anymore, he brought it closer to his face to examine the open gash on your porcelain skin.

“Did he hurt you?”

“I did this to myself.” You broke the physical contact right away and pressed your palm firmly on the still-bleeding wound. Adrenaline had pumped so hard through your veins that the pain had been numbed: only now your nerves were slowly wakening up, sending unpleasant tingles where the cut was. While he observed you carefully, the man wondered why such a young and fragile thing like you would do this to herself.

“Seems like you had a harsh night, kitten.” He stated with a slight fatherly tone which surprised you before he noticed the goosebumps on your skin. The situation had been so exceptional that he completely obliterated that you were barefoot outside, in the freezing temperature of Birmingham’s night, wearing nothing but a short dress. Without further ado, the man took his long black coat off and put it over your shoulders. While you still shot him a suspicious look, the warmth in which he wrapped you felt good. Your muscles relaxed and your hand closed on the two sides you brought together near your throat to protect it from the wind. “While I get why y’don’t wanna go home, ‘specially if you fought with your man, you have to understand that being alone at night in Small Heath is not safe. Let alone currently, with Changretta’s men trying to murder you all. Maybe you’d like me to bring you to Thomas instead?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the simple mention of your brother-in-law’s name. The sensation of his lips against yours was still burning your flesh and even hours after your last encounter you couldn’t get rid of his cologne’s scent that was still lingering on your hair and skin, “I’d rather get fucked by a horse than deal with this bastard.” The man blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected you to have such a foul mouth -- that was why let out a soft chuckle, to which you replied with a very faint smile.

“Alright kitten… I get it. No Shelby men. And what about coming with me to my vardo? My son has lit a campfire and he is cooking some rabbits. Would you like that?” He suggested, one brow raised and his fox-like grin widening almost to his ears.

“You still haven't told me who you are.”

The man took off his brown hat at your clever comment, “Ah yes. Where are my manners ay?” His dark blue eyes glistened with a cunning gleam as he slowly nodded “The name’s Aberama Gold. Nice to meet you.”

“You bloody idiot… Sit here and don’t do anything stupid anymore.” Polly instructed her oldest nephew as soon as he had entered the room, pointing to an empty chair with her half-consumed cigarette. All alone with Ada and his aunt, who were still waiting for the other guests to come, Arthur took place and kept his head down. Polly simply took a long drag from her black cigarette and exhaled, smoke coming out of her mouth like the Devil as she quietly observed Arthur’s eyebags and bloody knuckles. Soon after your departure, she had heard the cacophony of screams and thuds coming from his house in Watery Lane. When she witnessed all the blood, destroyed furniture, and shards of glass in the living room, she had been was convinced that Arthur had murdered you out of jealousy or something. Fortunately enough, the situation wasn't that dramatic -- at least for her. After throwing herself at her nephew and forcing him to calm the fuck down, she did her best to keep the oldest Shelby brother from hurting himself more than he already did. When things got quieter, she had even scolded him as she did when he was a kid — except that all the other sermons he had been through in his childhood were nothing compared to the anger she had unleashed when he had confessed about taking drugs again.

“Is she coming to the meeting?” She finally inquired, one of her elbows resting on the wooden table and her cigarette consuming itself between her fingers.

“Don’t know Pol.” Arthur’s usual loud and gruff voice was reduced to a shy, hoarse, and saddened whisper. No matter his attempt at distracting his mind, his thoughts always came back to you. Only you. He didn’t know where you were nor if you’d come back to him and that was slowly driving him crazy. Or more than he already was. Arthur felt his fragile sanity slipping through his fingers and knew it wouldn't be long before he went berserk if it turned out you really left. Also, he was growing frustrated and agitated about sitting here in the betting shop, waiting for a useless meeting to start instead of looking for you. All he wanted was to burn this city to the ground and make it bleed until he found you and brought you back home where you belonged. That is to say by his side. Nevertheless, Polly had advised him against this decision, convinced it would only fuel your rage against him even more. She wasn’t wrong though, you needed space.

The fierce Aunt stubbed her cigarette out in the nearest ashtray and leaned toward her nephew to grab his wrist with one of her cold and sly hands. It snapped him out of his crumbling mind. “You’re insanely lucky to have a woman like her in your life, Arthur. Don’t be an ungrateful cunt by letting your addictions ruin the most precious thing you have. The bland and momentarily relief snow grants you will never hold a candle to Heaven. Understand?” She warned with the same tone she used when a young Arthur came back home all bloody after fighting at school. “Hey. Look at me.” The gangster sniffed and raised his steel blue eyes to his Aunt, his lips trembling and dimples appearing on his cheeks as he clenched his jaws. How right she was. Even when snorting a ridiculously huge amount of snow he didn’t feel better. In fact, his high had been insipid when compared with how you made him feel, blissed out and in pure ecstasy, when his lips crashed against yours. An unpleasant surge of electricity crossed his body at this thought as he remembered how his whole being yearned for you. “She’ll come back. I know she will, and you’ll make up for your idiocy. But let me warn you, boy. Witches usually don’t believe in second chances. If she gives you one, don’t ever fuck it all up anymore, or she’ll tear your bloody heart from your chest and smash it in front of your beseeching eyes. And you’ll consider yourself lucky if she only did it figuratively. ” At these murderous words, which felt like another stab, Arthur bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood on his tongue.

“I’ll do that.” He concluded, closing his hands in fists in a vain attempt to keep his temper quiet despite his spiraling thoughts. Thoughts that revolve around either you and how he would end his damn life if you ever left him. With a loud bang, a strong rope, or hell, his own razor blade, he didn’t care. Polly simply nodded and sat straight again as the other members of the clan entered the room one by one and took place, waiting for Tommy. At each footstep, Arthur raised his head with impatience, wishing it was you and internally screaming when he realized it wasn’t. HeavenHeavenHeavenHeaven… It never stopped, the thought of you compulsive and maddening. He cleared his throat and grunted nervously, his gaze glaring at an invisible dot on the wall that was facing him.

Tommy erupted in the room, a placid expression etched on his face as always, giving the impression he was in complete control of the situation. Was he? No one was truly sure about that. He stood fearlessly in front of the small crowd, far from being impressed by public speeches, and let his turquoise eyes wander on every face. Sometimes you wondered if Thomas Shelby would better drop the criminal life and start a political career. After all, he had all the required qualities: manipulative, sweet-talking, dishonest, and heartless. Tommy took one look at his brother’s face and quickly got a broad understanding of what had happened -- It wasn't particularly difficult though considering how Arthur belonged to the expressive kind. His eyes usually talked before he even opened his mouth. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fault. If it was because of the... kiss, or his moment of confusion as he liked to call it. Yet, his sharp instincts knew that Arthur hadn’t been informed of this little event otherwise he would have certainly gone straight for his throat no matter the family blood running in their veins. Loyalty had its limits, and the limits bore your name. When he noticed your absence, Tommy discreetly clenched his sharp jaws for even if he loathed you, you had your place among the family for the meeting and the rest of them would probably not vote if you weren’t there. Nevermind, he thought. He had barely parted his lips when he heard the clicking sound of heels approaching and with the sound came your perfume. Just like Arthur, he immediately recognized the spring-like fragrances of your scent, especially now that he had buried his nose in your silvery mane.

Arthur’s heart made a leap in his tight ribcage as he saw you bathed in the warm light of the betting shop, dressed like the day you left the house except for your hair that was styled in two French braids cascading down the small of your back. He wanted to get up and embrace you, choke you in a hug, or fall on his knees to beg for forgiveness without minding the other people in the room but Polly’s strong hand squeezed his thigh to prevent him from doing so. Thus, all he did was just staring at you with pitiful and beseeching eyes. But you didn’t look at him. In truth, you didn’t look at anyone. Ignoring the burning sensation of Tommy’s turquoise iris following you, you passed by him and headed right to the free chair between Polly and Arthur. As soon as you sat next to him, he obliterated the world in favor of your heavenly presence as he usually did when you were around. The lanky gangster tried his chance and his fingers shyly searched for yours under the table. He was dying to feel your touch again, the coldness of your frosty skin being the only remedy to his troubled soul and broken mind. However, you denied him your affection by slightly shifting your hand away from him no matter how hard it was for you too. Your rejection stung him more painfully than a white-hot blade. Arthur bit the inside of his cheek harder but instead of making a scene or bursting with both rage and frustration, he tried his best to be a good boy and simply lowered his head as an unruly child who had just been scolded. His lonely hand rested on his thigh he nervously rubbed, desperately trying to chase away his sadness.

“John is dead.” Tommy exhaled loudly and made a short pause as if he was still processing the awful truth. John. Is. Dead. Your frail fingers fidgeted the fabric of your dress at Tommy’s statement, doing so only to avoid digging them into your own flesh and scratching it until you bleed. For a micro while, Tommy's self-confidence flickered, afflicted by his baby brother’s savage murder, before he regained composure and his eyes darkened again, “Esme’s back on the road with the Lees. She’s taken the kids. Michael is badly wounded, they say it’s 60/40 in his favor.”

“There’s no number, there’s no percentages” Polly cut him off, “So the hand, the hand beneath him stops his falling. Spoke to someone… My son will live.” It was more or less all you’ve heard of the conversation, for your mind soon drifted. As Tommy kept talking, your frozen eyes as glacial as Dante’s latest ring of Hell locked on your husband. Observing him with great attention, you tried to look for anything that would prove he was high. But despite a huge deal of effort, you didn’t see any grain of white powder near his nostrils. Arthur’s eyes weren’t dilated, his hands didn’t shake and his breathing was as soft as quiet. If anything, he looked awfully tired and miserable. To be honest, you could not help but think about how bad you missed him and how handsome he was in his suit even if your mood was still sour and resentful.

Arthur grunted, distracting himself from the pain by following the conversation and playing his henchman role. He took a golden bullet out of the pocket of his trousers and, holding it between his thumb and his index finger, looking at its shiny surface on which he had carved Luca’s name: “Yeah, Well… The bullet’s been written… It says Luca.” He paused, a glimpse of John’s face reflecting on the gold for half a second. “When the time comes and it will come… Me as the oldest brother —“ He swallowed again, John had disappeared, “Will put this bullet into his fucking head.” He concluded his speech by putting the said bullet on the table, the metallic sound echoed in the room and chilled you to the bones. Your eyes were still focusing on Arthur, but this time it was because you felt worried for him. Despite his rough and tough demeanor, the slight tremor in his voice and his need to take short pauses had betrayed his profound sorrow. You closed your fists on your dress because of how much you hated to see him in pain. All you wanted was to hold his arm and support him in these difficult times but you were certainly as pretty as stubborn.

“There’s been some bad blood between us.” While he had ignored you for most of his speech, Tommy’s intense gaze fell on you. Feeling the ice of his eyes burning you, you cocked an eyebrow. Was it a pathetic attempt to apologize? Or was he blaming you for it?

Bad blood… Polly scoffed. You snort. That was the least he could say.

It felt like an eternity before little King Shelby spoke again, not paying attention to his Aunt’s and your attitude. He looked at the ceiling, looking for his words then he went on, “Until this business is settled we stay together. We stay here…” To assert his claim, Tommy explained how the family would be safe as long as they stayed together, surrounded by an army of faces they already knew. His plan was simple: all the family remained together until they manage to kill Luca Changretta. Until then, no one was allowed to stray away from Small Heath. Arthur's first reaction following this suggestion was to turn his head towards you, looking with concern for far too well he knew you didn't wish to stay. A small sigh escaped from your plumped lips as you dived into his sad eyes, but you remained silent. Worst, you remained awfully placid and hated yourself for looking so much like Tommy for a short while. The rest bored you to hell and blurred into a mush of unintelligible bribes of conversation, except for the mention of Aberama Gold and Johnny Dogs’ complaints about the man. Savages he had said. The same word he had used the first time you met him. She's a freakin' savage, Arthur. An evil creature straight from the woods! Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue to keep your mouth shut, and not scream at Dogs to tell him that Aberama Gold might be a savage but at least he took care of you these last few days better than any members of the Shelby clan did. At least not before interminable months of insults and death/suspicious stares. As the conversation went on, Polly put a glass of whisky in front of you but you pushed it away almost immediately -- you've been feeling nauseous since you left Watery Lane so drinking strong alcohol was the last thing you had in mind. Thus, you simply passed the glass to Arthur, who certainly needed it more than you.

“… Which means we have to agree to end this war between us.” Thomas Shelby might be addressing the whole family, but you knew his words were mainly aimed at you, which only made you move your foot impatiently under the table. Ending this war, of course, you thought. And what about the last two years of misery you’ve made me undergo each time we met? What about the moment you strangled me? And what about all the awful things you said after thrusting your tongue in my fucking mouth? These would have been all the things you would have screamed at him if your legendary coldness had broken. Which, fortunately for everyone in the room, hadn’t.

Truthful to himself, Tommy asked for the family to vote.

“Peace.” Arthur finally decided, taking the glass and gulping down the amber liquid it contained in hope it would numb him. It didn’t. As surprising as it was to hear the oldest sibling choosing a non-violent approach to a conflict, you knew it was the best decision to make. So as everyone shared their opinion, you thought deeply about yours until your turn came. At first, you didn’t realize it was already your time to speak — only the sudden silence and the weight of a dozen eyes on you could snatch you from your mind. And among the pair of eyes, the one that burnt the fiercest was Tommy’s.

“Now we’re asking for my opinion?” You said, sarcastic venom coating your words.

“Angel, please…” Arthur whispered, but you waved off his comment with a disdainful gesture of the hand. He currently wasn’t in the position to advise you. Not after hurting you like he did.

“Truce.” You stated, coldly. The word left your mouth with the power of a guillotine’s blade on an inmate’s neck and surprised everyone in the room. In truth, they were all convinced you would disagree with the idea. Polly and Ada offered you a warm smile, while Tommy lowkey nodded in approval at your wise decision.

“Five for peace, two for truce. Let’s get on with the war.” He concluded, turning around and walking out of the betting shop without one last glance at any of his family’s members: his scheming mind already focused on the next part of his plan.

As always, Tommy couldn't live without pulling the strings.

As the room cleared out and people left, you remained alone with Arthur in an uncomfortable silence. Because you had nothing to tell him, you got up from your chair and proceeded to walk to the exit without uttering a single word but the tall gangster caught you by the wrist, forcing you to stop. His long fingers closed around you a bit too bluntly than he intended though. You winced and as a result, he immediately let go of you, showing his palm open to indicate that he didn't mean to hurt you.

“Heaven, please." His gravelly voice called. "Enough with the cold treatment… I can’t. It’s hurting me.” He said rather slowly, for putting words on his emotions was not something he was used to. Most of the time he just yelled and resorted to violence. , “I beg ye, go back home, angel.”

"You had promised me, Arthur." You articulated.

"And you had also promised me not to hurt yourself anymore." His gruff voice raised a little bit, threatening to turn into frustrated yellings because he didn’t know how to properly communicate his emotions, especially not when they were so obsessive and overwhelming. But Arthur didn’t want to scream at you so what he did was take a deep inhale to force himself not to be his usual loud and rude self. “You also promised to me, love.” He repeated in a calmer tone even if his quivering upper lip and twitching mustache showed how much he was struggling.

“So now we both understand how it feels when the other part of your soul breaks a promise. What a great step forward we’ve made.” That was mean. So mean you could barely believe that such an awful taunt came from your tantalizing mouth — but even though you instantly regretted it, you didn’t falter. No matter your mad love for Arthur and the untamable desire to throw yourself in his arms, you weren’t going to bend: things needed to be clear right now or they’ll never never be.

“I’m sorry, love. I’m fucking sorry alright?!" He growled, opening his arms as to silently ask you what he had to do for you to believe him. "I swear there isn’t a second during which I’m not regretting everything I did and said to you.” He finally admitted, long arms falling along his slim body, “I wasn’t meself even if I know this ain’t no excuse. I won't do it again. But…Please Heaven I can’t go on without you. And I don’t want to.” The only answer to his pleadings was a heavy silence combined with your frost-like gaze.

Arthur’s eyes lingered over your arm until they fell on the deep cut you had inflicted upon yourself. This is what it feels like when you take drugs. The powerlessness he had felt when he watched the blood running down your skin and soaking the fabric of your clothes was etched in his mind: he, who had promised to protect you against everything, realized he couldn’t save you from yourself if you chose to destroy you… And that powerlessness was the same you experienced when he egoistically relapsed. That was a harsh lesson, but a lesson he had learned. “Please forgive me.” He begged and sucked in a sharp breath as if he was physically in pain, yet he still took your arm in his hand with indescribable softness and, with his free one, caressed your still swollen and red gash.

Your dainty body stood still, trying not to give in to the delightful sensation of his warm skin against yours but your heart sunk in your chest “You have to understand that you cannot act like a jerk, hurt me, treat me like shit and then come back with your puppy eyes, and beg for forgiveness. It doesn’t work like that." You said.

“So you're not coming back...” His voice broke, warm hand closing on your wound.

Your touch. I need it. It's a damn physical need.

“Don’t be stupid Arthur…” You sighed, the traits of your angelic face softening, “That’s not what I said."

"So please, love. Forgive me. I'll do whatever ye want. I'll get on my knees right now if that's what you want." His body shifted, closing the distance between the two of you until his arms wrapped around your waist. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the sight of his enchanting blue eyes, whose color was so different from his brothers. Slightly darker, far less colder. With your heart beating fast and your mind buzzing, you couldn't keep your fingers from gently grazing one of his cheeks. He half closed his eyelids at the sensation, the tremors of his body already calming down now that you were touching him.

"I don't want you to get on your knees. And I don't want to make a dog out of you like Linda did. All I ask for is my husband, who I know is a wonderfully strong man who doesn't need any chemicals to face the world. Not anymore." Your holy voice sounded like the purest melody in his ears like God's mercy whispered to him. Lulled by your words and strokes, Arthur would have purred if he wasn't already fighting against tears of relief.

"I've been such a fucking bastard... What the fuck is wrong with me eh? I still can't believe every mean thing I've screamed. The words I told ya, they're eating me sick brain." He gritted his teeth, "I don't fucking deserve you." Noticing that his breathing was getting faster, you wrapped his neck with your arms and lifted yourself on your tiptoes to lay a kiss on his chin.

"Stop it, Art. Don't beat yourself." You whispered in his ear, one hand lost in his perfectly slicked hair. "You want me to forgive you? Well; show me that all these promises you made weren’t empty. That our wedding can overcome everything, even the worst. Prove it to me." As you spoke, you softly rocked him from left to right, trying to calm his anxiety. A sigh escaped from your lips: you just couldn't abandon him as everyone else did. And part of you cursed him for making you feel so weak, especially when he was looking at you with his confused puppy eyes.

“I’ll show you then, angel. I’ll show you because without you birds don’t sing anymore.” He nodded, softly rubbing his cheek against yours. You could feel his heart drumming against your bosom, crying for yours to open up to him again. “I'll show you I'm still a good husband." His lips trailed down your cheek to capture yours, but the moment he tried to kiss them you slightly turned your head to the other side to deny him access to your mouth. He clenched his jaws.

“Go find Thomas and organize the funerals with him." You simply instructed, taking a step back to free yourself from his arms. The lanky gangster nodded and left, head down and arms swinging as he walked away.

All you wished now was that he truly meant what he said.

All alone in the betting shop, you leaned against a wall and closed your eyes, needing a bit of peace to reorganize your thoughts and soothe your overwhelming emotions. Moreover, you had to come to terms with the idea of living near Tommy, here in Small Heath. It has been only weeks since you left your small house in the forest but you already missed it. Suddenly, you jumped at the feeling of two cold hands grasping you by the shoulders. When you reopened your eyelids, you were met by Polly’s motherly smile and dark gaze. Eyes so black it outmatched the bark of the most ancient trees you had ever seen. And just like these trees, they had something mystical, as if they were keeping the Earth's secrets and infinite wisdom. For sure, Elizabeth Gray was a woman of nature, born in the wilderness and raised among the soft whispers of the leaves. You even wonder if her body contained blood or if it was amber sap that was coursing through her veins.

“I’m happy you came back, white Devil.” She said with a soft smile. Since the day she heard Tommy spat the insult at your face, she decided to reverse the curse and use it as an affectionate nickname for you -- an idea you found absolutely delightful.

“I’m a Shelby now, everyone says so… So I suppose my place is here.” The melancholy of your grin betrayed your thoughts and Polly understood that only now you were starting to understand what bearing this family name truly meant. “I'm not gonna lie, Polly, I didn’t want to come. That’s Mr. Gold who convinced me I needed to. After hours of bargaining, he got me by telling me it would get under Tommy's skin.”

“You call him Tommy now?” She teased, trying to make you smile but little she knew her remark had the opposite effect. You pursed your juicy lips and looked away.

“Something happened with him right.” The fierce Aunt frowned, observing your face as if she would be able to find an answer to her question hidden in your holy traits. Now sincerely concerned, her grip tightened on your shoulders, like benevolent roots anchoring you to reality. While she knew the difficult and rocky relationship you had with little King Shelby, she had never seen you display such a dreadful expression when his name was mentioned.

“Something always happens with him anyway. But that’s not important.” You closed the topic, not wanting to talk about him any longer. The fucker had done enough to infect your brain, so you didn’t want to give him more space. "Do you think Johnny Dogs says the truth about the Gold? I mean, I'm not Romani but the Gold are nice to me and--"

"Heaven. Oh Lord." She cut you off, her smile swept away from her face so quickly you blinked several times.

"What's the matter, Pol?" You asked, eyebrows frowned.

Freeing your shoulders, her left hand grabbed one of your breasts to squeeze it softly while the right one felt your abdomen at different places, looking for something you didn't know. The more she touched you, the more her facial expression seemed concerned. Completely taken aback by her sudden behavior, your lips parted in surprise as you watched her.

"Does Arthur know it?!" She inquired, her dark eyes switching between you and your tummy.

“Does Arthur know what?"

“That you’re pregnant.”

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver

#HYE Squad #Queen Lauren 🖤#Comment rb

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

Text

Church (Choi San) Rated

Pairing: Choi San × Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, College AU, Friends to Enemies(?), Enemies to Lovers (?)

Summary: He used to be her best friend until he abandoned not only his childhood beliefs, but her in the process. One night, he decides to show her a glimpse of what she's been missing out on. Inspired by Chase Atlantic's Church .

Word Count: 6.3+K

Warnings: Mentions of religious beliefs, brazen college parties, allusions to alcohol/nicotine intake, body insecurity (reader has small breasts), oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, body worship/praise, slight cumplay, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (always use protection), slight corruption kink, inexperienced reader, experienced San. (Probably forgot something)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @brie02 @deja-vux @a-soft-hornytiny @multidreams-and-desires @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie

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The infamous rebel let out a pernicious snicker when he saw the serene and usually proper former acquaintance walk in his direction.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really the pastor's prissy little daughter out past her bedtime in a college party?" He found the situation much too amusing that he just had to point it out.

"I have a name you know." The female he was referring to halted in her steps to turn her head and give him an unkind and unfriendly look.

"You have several, actually. There's goody two shoes, priss, prude, prig-"

"Oh shut the fuck up Choi San." She scoffed as she began walking away from him, already feeling annoyed by his presence.

The man trailed after her, his face donning a shocked expression as he flailed his arms around in a dramatic way.

"Guys it's happening! The apocalypse is really here if L/N Y/N has not only attended a wild party full of debauchery, but her mouth has actually uttered out cursed words!" He shouted out, the other attendants either joining in laughing at her or ignoring him in favor of the bottles or sticks in their fingers.

"I'm surprised you even know what that word means." She turned to look at him with a mocking smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Please, I know a lot more than you have ever pretended to know." He clicked his tongue, elbow coming up to rest on the wall next to him.

"Is that why you turnt corrupt and abandoned everything you believe in?" She couldn't help but spat back at him.

"Hey at least I was honest and didn't hide it like you people who lead double lives. Preaching one thing but living the total opposite. You're all nothing but a bunch of hypocrites." The venom in his voice was unmistakable, nose scrunching up in disgust as he remembered gross sins he had more often than not had witnessed from people who claimed to be pure and holy.

"I do not lead a double life." She remarked.

"Oh really? Then why the hell are you here in a college party? Full of alcohol, drugs and walking STDs? Riddle me that princess." His foot tapped against the floor, patiently awaiting an answer from her.

Y/N swallowed the non existent lump in her throat and turned her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. Just once." She admitted begrudgingly, the man in front of her chuckling lowly.

"Well you sure are going to have a lot to confess on Sunday to your dad. Silly girl, walking into the lion's pit like this." He jeered at her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Just because I came here doesn't mean I've done anything morally wrong." She counteracted his words to which he only snorted.

"Yet."

Tired of his overly obnoxious attitude, Y/N spun on her heel to get away from him, but she spun so carelessly and fast that she ended up bumping into another classmate who unfortunately was holding a full cup of beer that ended up being doused all over her white blouse.

"Oops! Sorry, my bad." He excused himself, looking completely unapologetic about the situation.

Meanwhile Y/N looked absolutely horrified as she took in the drenched state of her shirt that now had the stench of alcohol on it. The fact San was bursting out in giggles only served to make her even more mad.

"Now tell me how do you plan on explaining that to dear old-"

"Can it San or I swear I'll gauge your eyes out." She threatened him as she stormed out the building, not caring that she bumped into a few figures on her way out.

Feeling just a bit of empathy for his old friend, San sighed softly before following after her. Upon catching up to her, he took hold of her wrist and started dragging her in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off me! I will not hesitate to scream!" She tried tugging her arm away.

"Calm down I'm not planning on kidnapping or anything like that sweetheart. I'm taking you back to my car."

She let out a dry laugh at that.

"But that's not kidnapping?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a spare shirt in the backseat that you can change into. Unless you wanna go home smelling like PBR." He looked back to see the mess one more time, lips curling up into a smirk.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to take her all the way where his car was parked, standing there quietly as San rummaged through the backseat before taking out a clean plain white tshirt and held it out to her.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked at him with a face that asked if he was stupid.

"Well what?" He asked.

"Oh yes..I'm totally going to strip in a middle of the street and let anyone passing by see." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh for fuck's sake, there's nobody here, nobody is going to see and frankly I don't think anyone cares about seeing your non existent boobs." He scorned at her as he gestured to her chest.

"Ok rude and uncalled for." She felt slightly hurt by his comment, having always been somewhat insecure about the size of her chest.

"Don't look." She warned him.

"Not like I want to." He jeered at her as he turned away to not only give her privacy, but to also serve as a lookout for anyone that might accidentally show up and see the scene. He could hear her behind him tearing off her clothes and then slipping it back on.

"Ok there. I'm done." Y/N announced as she stuffed the soiled shirt into her bag.

"Not even a thank you?" San pouted slightly, to which Y/N gave a feigned smile.

"Thanks."

With that said and done, she brushed past him and started walking away, absolutely done with the night.

"Careful not to get caught sneaking back inside your house." She heard San say from behind.

"For your information I'm not living with them anymore. I moved into the dorms 2 months ago." She stated in a matter of factly, a proud look on her face.

"Well in that case....want to ride back with me?" He offered.

"Yeah no, I'd rather take my chances at being kidnapped and then butchered up. Besides, I wouldn't want to cut your wild night short." She declined the offer.

"Stop being so negative Nancy and accept my generosity. Geez."

Running over to her, he quickly snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shocked exclaims and protests.

"Now this is really kidnapping!" She declared.

"Yeah I know, now shut up before I duct tape that bratty mouth of yours." San grinned mischievously as he tossed her into the backseat and shut the door before striding over to get on the driver's seat.

"Oh come on. Stop looking at me like I'm a criminal. Just because I indulge in a few sins every now and then, doesn't make me into a bad person." He stated when he saw the dirty look she gave him.

"Whatever." She muttered as she locked in her seatbelt.

San opted for just driving back to the dorms and get Y/N tucked in her bed since it was clear to him she needed it.

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"You're lucky my roommate is on vacation, otherwise I would have left your ass back there." Y/N spewed out as she threw her keys onto her dresser.

"Thanks Y/N, I always said you were the nicest and most giving person in the planet." San complimented her as he felt he should given she was letting him stay the night in her dorm after a little tiny incident with his keys dropping inside one of the manholes surrounding the university. And the administration office wouldn't be open til the morning, meaning he was screwed unless his roommate showed up to let him in, but that was a definite no since San knew Seonghwa would definitely end up in someone else's bed and come back til the next day, hickeys plastered all over his neck and chest.

"No, you always said I was the most stuck up-"

San shushed her by pressing a hand over her mouth.

"You dwell so much on the present image of me you drew up in your head that you completely erased the friend you had all those years ago." He slid his hand off her mouth, shoulders slumping down as he turned away from her to crouch on the floor.

"That friend doesn't exist anymore, that is if he even existed in the first place. If I recall, my friend wasn't into parties, booze, vaping, tattoos, piercings and fucking around with every whore in the school."

San didn't say anything as he heard her ramble, he just let her talk away as she started pulling out spare blankets and pillows for him to use.

"My Sannie was sweet, cute, adorable, always ready to lend people help and respectful to others." She reminisced with a sad look. Pulling her expression straight, she laid out the blankets and started arranging them neatly on the floor.

"I still am."

San's voice was so quiet that she barely registered that he even opened his mouth in the first place, but she heard him.

"Maybe if you weren't so puffed up with pride and didn't cut me off after I cut ties with the church, you'd see that I'm still the way I was. You think I changed completely because of ink and metal on my body? Because I wanted to try certain substances and yes, satisfy some perfectly normal and humane needs?"

Y/N averted her gaze from him and continued the task she was in. San let out a despondent scoff.

"Of course you do. And yet didn't I just demonstrate to you back there that I haven't changed? Giving you my shirt, giving you a ride, yeah I know, it's not much and no big deal, but wasn't those the types of things I'd do even back then?"

Y/N's tongue poked against her cheek as she knew she couldn't deny that was San said was absolutely true. He did nothing different back at the party as he used to do years ago. Helping old ladies with grocery bags, giving away some of his clothes to less fortunate kids, he was always known as being such a giving and kind person.....

No wonder so many were devastated when it was announced he had resigned as a member of the church. Y/N herself was hurt and even indignated by his decision. And after that she adamantly refused to see him or talk to him, and of course San respected her decision and avoided contacting her so as to not make her uncomfortable. He understood that their friendship was broken and he wasn't going to overstep boundaries just to try and fix it when the other party didn't want it. So he just decided to live his life as he thought was right without his conscience bothering him. And he was much happier now, he felt free, something that he had never felt before. Perhaps he was so chained down by formality, discipline, strict regulations and even fear that he didn't realize that he was miserable all that time until his eyes were fully open and he found he didn't like what he saw, especially after seeing the dark and ugly side of what was supposed to be a safe and pure sanctuary. He was let down severely and he suffered in the process. But now that was behind him and he had no regrets......

Except Y/N. He truly missed her and her company. As he laid on the makeshift bed on the floor, he found himself unable to sleep as he recalled all those fond times spent with her. The trips to the lake, hiking, first day of school, their first accident after he had gotten his driver's license. He let out an involuntary smile at that memory. Unbeknownst to him, the girl on her bed was equally reminiscing on the old days filled with her best friend. She had been so alone ever since she distanced herself from him, the world now feeling empty and cold without him. Shifting around in her bed, she whined into her pillow as she desperate tried to sleep.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Her question startled San momentarily.

"Are you that sleep deprived that you're suddenly asking me to confess my worst sins?" He chuckled amusedly.

"Maybe it'll help me get actual sleep, I don't know. And.... I'm just curious." She clutched one of her plushies and started messing around with it.

"Curiosity killed the cat and I don't think your virgin mind will be able to handle my confession." He asserted confidently.

"I'm not a virgin, but oh well. Just tell me, what's the worst?" Her casual response made San flip out. He sat upright and kneeled at the front of her bed with an incredulous look.

"What do you mean you're not a virgin? When did you-?" He was so flabbergasted he wouldn't even finish his sentence.

Rolling over to where he was, Y/N smirked at him.

"Uh uh. I asked you a question first and you have to answer it before I can answer any you want."

Knowing he had no alternative, San placed his chin on the top of her mattress.

"Had a threesome with 2 of our professors." He laughed when he saw how shocked Y/N looked.

"What?! No way!" She refused to believe him.

"It's true. I won't tell you who they were since you won't be able to look at them the same way if I did...... I'll just dish this: they both got really huge tits and it's a shame they're married." He admitted with a smug expression.

"I can't believe you." She fanned her face which she was sure was now a deep crimson color.

"Ok now your turn. When did this happen? Who was it with?"

Y/N didn't even mind that San got up and crawled into her bed to lay down next to her. His face was rested on his hands as he looked at her with intense inquisitiveness. Knowing she'd have to talk about it sooner or later, she thought it would be best if San was the one to know since he would never tell anyone else and he'd understand since he was tainted as well.

"Remember when that group of missionaries came to stay over at our city for a while back in high school?"

San nodded, vividly remembering everything. Y/N blushed and smiled shyly.

"Do you remember that there was a family with a son our age? Chase?"

San widened his eyes and flopped over on his back as his hands came to hide his face.

"Oh dear lord, please don't tell me it was that Canadian boy." He groaned in pain.

"Yeah....yeah it was."

San couldn't stop cringing at the thought of his friend doing such a thing.

"How even did that happen?" He was so lost.

"I don't know! It just did ok? It happened while we were out in that camping trip. Somewhere there, we were left alone and we started talking about everything and nothing til it spiraled into talking about sex and us being virgins decided to see what was the big deal....." She bit her lower lip as the memory flashed in her mind. Looking over at San, she knew he was judging her as she expected. A tiny snort escaped his lips.

"That must have been the worst 45 seconds of your life." He joked, earning him a slap on his chest by Y/N's hand.

"It was not 45 seconds!............. it was 2 minutes."

San only laughed harder at that, nearly crying from how funny it was to him. He composed himself though when he saw how embarrassed Y/N looked about it. Feeling bad for laughing at her expense, he cleared his throat and patted her head.

"It's ok. First times are always awkward and uncomfortable. The problem was you weren't prepared and you were both inexperienced. He just didn't know how to please you."

Y/N couldn't help herself as she asked:

"And I suppose you can?"

Flipping onto his stomach, San cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb across her lower lip.

"Don't tread on dangerous territory little angel lest you want an evil demon to corrupt you." He warned her, and although he wouldn't actually follow through on it, he did want to tease her a little. But he wasn't expecting for Y/N to play along to his teasing, only she was not joking at all as she brought her face closer to his.

"Maybe I want you to corrupt me, show me what I've been missing out on." She brushed her lips against his, tongue daring to poke out and press on his slit briefly, leaving him stunned.

"You have no idea what you're asking for princess." San mused as he held himself back from touching her.

"I know what I'm asking for Choi San and what I'm asking for....is you." She responded with confidence.

Escaping from underneath the blanket that covered her, Y/N reclined back on the mattress, her head laying on her soft pillow as she gestured for San to come over to her, which he promptly did. Parting her legs so he could fit his body between them, he smirked softly down at her eagerness, fingers brushing against the soft skin on her thighs.

"You're serious about this?" He wanted to make sure it wouldn't be something she'd regret.

"I already messed up once, what's one more time gonna do?" She pulled him down against her, not caring when he lost balance and accidentally crushed her under him with his muscular body.

"Besides...." Wanting to further entice him, Y/N brushed her lips against his ear.

"Look at me and tell me you don't want to fuck me. That you don't want to stuff that hard cock of yours into my tight and inexperienced pussy. Bet you're itching to tear into me until I'm crying under you. Don't you want that?"

San let out a moan at hearing such filthy and depraved talk from her. It only fueled his appetite and hunger for indulging in carnal desires.

"Yes... I want that.... I want you."

Closing space between them, San molded his lips over hers, encasing them in a sloppy and wet kiss. Y/N could faintly make out the leftover scent of alcohol and nicotine as she let him taste her mouth, but she didn't mind or felt grossed out by it. She just kept her lips parted and allowed him to move his tongue freely inside her. Cupping her cheeks, San continued to roll his tongue over hers, massaging it gently with both deep yet gentle strokes. When he pulled away, he made sure to tuck her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it towards him as Y/N let out a moan that was like music to his ears. Pausing briefly, their lips were barely touching as they breathed in each other's air. San was the first one to break into a smile, the one that had Y/N melting since it displayed his dimples to the fullest.

"Never thought I'd hear that sound come out of your pretty mouth." He teased her.

"S-shut up." She frowned, hand reaching up to smack his chest.

"It's not a bad thing. I like it. Now let's see if I can make sure you keep them up."

Stuffing his face into her neck, San ghosted his lips across her skin, tongue subtly poking out solely to hear her breath hitch slightly. Dipping his tongue into her collarbone, his lips opened up so they could firmly latch and spread wet kisses across her neck. Y/N gasped when she felt teeth sink down, head tilting back to give San more room which he took advantage of. Focusing on particular spots that he knew she was sensitive in, he sucked her skin into his mouth. Each time he pulled away, he reveled when he saw the finished mark that was now painted on her skin.

"I would love to see your parent's reaction to my love bites." He brushed a fingers across the newest spot he just embedded in her body, hand then reaching up to suddenly clasp around her neck. Y/N shuddered when his grip got tighter, her oxygen intake getting cut and making her feel hazy, but it was nonetheless enjoyable. Snaking a hand under her shirt, or more like his shirt, San swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he started to pull the material up.

"How about I make some matching ones all across your pretty chest?"

Before he could lift the shirt any further, Y/N's hand clasped around his wrist, preventing him from moving any further.

"Don't." She begged him.

San retracted his hands away from her, fearing he made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologized and began to move away from her, but Y/N's hands raked against his thighs to keep him in place.

"No, it's not you. It's just..... if we're going to do this, can I keep the shirt on? I don't...." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she admitted an insecurity of hers.

"I don't like my chest. My boobs are too small, it's unflattering and I'd rather you not see them." She slowly opened her eyes to see his reaction. San had a sad look on his face, bottom lip poking out as his fingers came up to brush against her cheek. Remembering what he had previously said back in the parking loyal, he felt terrible for saying that ill intended joke about her body. He probably hurt her and he didn't realize it.

"Y/N don't say that. Your chest size doesn't matter. You're beautiful the way you are and I bet underneath that layer is clothing there is the cutest and most adorable set of boobs in the world." She let out an involuntary giggle at his words, letting him run his hand down her clothed sternum.

"But if that's what you want, I'll respect it. Either way, my tshirt looks amazing on you." He acknowledged rather cockily.

Shifting further back, San took hold of the top of her shorts, making sure to look at her.

"Are you ok with these coming off?"

Y/N resisted the temptation to slap the top of his head.

"If you don't take them off, how are you going to fuck me genius?" She retorted.

"You'd be surprised at what I've learned." He uttered, mostly to himself than at her.

Like an expert, he practically tore her shorts down her legs, panties falling to the floor along with them. Y/N let out a soft squeal when he took hold of her thighs and brought her down so his face was at eye level with her most intimate part. San took a few seconds to admire her bare mound, lips parted and threatening to start drooling all over her thighs. Pressing both thumbs against each one is her lips, San pried her folds open, staring intently as he now clearly saw all of her.

"Oh fuck. I'm gonna need to prep you real good. I can tell you're going to be really tight."

She wanted to ask him what he meant by prep, but her words got caught in her throat when she felt his tongue delve into her core. She had never felt someone's mouth anywhere near her folds and she regretted not having experienced it before. Her eyes shut tight as she marveled at the sensation of San's tongue lapping at her bud, his lips making sure to enclose all around the flesh surrounding it before giving it gentle suckles. Shaky breaths blew out from her mouth, her legs wanting to close themselves around San's head but his firm grip on her thighs kept it from happening. He kept her knees pinned to the bed as his mouth continued to ravish at her taste, sloppily consuming her heat fervently. Her mind was so occupied in what he was doing that she didn't register the hand that slowly crept away from her thigh until she felt something poke at her entrance.

"Oh-" She gasped, opening her eyes to see what was going on.

"Relax princess. It's just my finger.....for now." He momentarily pulled off her heat to let her know what was happening before diving back in to continue his task of eating her out.

His finger inside her felt a little weird at first, sliding in slowly before pulling out only to plunge itself back into her. During one of those times where she expected him to slide back in, she was surprised when she felt herself being stretched out as San curled a second finger inside her. Keeping them lodged there, he began scissoring them alternatively so he could further spread her walls apart. During one of those movements, his fingertips brushed along her hood, making her hips slightly jolt up into San's face, who smiled against her folds as he now knew exactly where to angle his hips for later. Using this new knowledge, that was probably unbeknownst to Y/N, he slipped his fingers deeper into her, knuckles deep as he moved his tips rhythmically on the the spot he found. Y/N's mouth fell wide open into an 'O' as whiny gasps and airy moans poured out of it. San's mouth latched to her clit and his fingers working deep in her hole was producing a stirring in the lower pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite make out. But it felt good, especially since it continued to grow more and more, almost as if it was a cord about to snap.

"San- wait. I feel, I feel-" She couldn't finish her sentence as her body trembled slightly, a flood of overwhelming pleasure washing over her that was prolonged by San drinking up the juices that spilled forth out of her body. He didn't pull away until he made sure to swallow every drop she had to give.

"Aren't you grossed out?" She asked him, always having wondered about that.

"Nope. I love licking girl's pussies, especially if they're as sweet as yours." He affirmed while pulling his shirt off his body.

Y/N turned her flustered face away from him, keeping her gaze locked on the wall to her right, which was decorated with several polaroids of her with her family, friends and members of her church, some of them even had San in them, back when they were inseparable. Before she could become nostalgic, a strong set of hands clutched her chin and teared her gaze away from the pictures, forcing her to stare at the now naked man in front of her.

"Forget about that for now. Right now I want your full attention on me and what we're about to do. After we're done, that image of a good girl you have will gone." His words seemed to almost taunt her.

Although she tried not to look, Y/N's eyes fell in between San's legs, filled with astonishment when she glimpsed for the very first time at her former friend's member, fully erect and leaking at the tip as it awaited to be hugged by her warm walls.

"Like it? Maybe later I'll let you play with it." San giggled when her eyes shot up at him in surprise.

Placing himself to hover above her, he hummed lowly as he slowly stuffed himself inside her, working her open until he was fully nestled inside her warmth. Although she felt a light burn scraping against her inner walls, it wasn't unpleasant or painful like her first time. She could tell San knew exactly what he was doing as he began rolling his hips. Perfectly recalling exactly where to aim at, he made sure to angle his thrusts accordingly so each time he pushed back in, he'd hit her pleasure spot.

"Oh God-" Y/N exclaimed when he continued to brushed against the hood of her core.

"Really think it's a good idea to call out the good lord's name when I'm balls deep inside your pussy?" He asked with a malicious smirk plastered across his face.

"No baby. Tonight your only lord is me."

Pinning her wrists above her head, San continued pushing his cock deeper into her. The harsh pounding of his hips against hers was becoming louder, their bodies starting to get heated and producing sweat. Y/N couldn't do anything but whimper and wrap her legs around San's waist, keeping him firmly locked to her body. She closed her eyes once more as she felt the same familiar feeling from before start piling up, only it felt more intense and stronger probably due to the fact that she was getting railed to her bed by her ex best friend, whom she still cared about deeply. She was definitely not planning on making up with him this way, but holy hell, she couldn't deny that he was making her feel so many emotions at once. Pleasure, lust, satisfaction, happiness, euphoria, love? Perhaps that last one was definitely a stretch, but she blamed her confused thoughts on how well his cock was abusing her hole. She felt unable to focus on anything except him.

"Clenching so hard around me babygirl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock?"

Slipping one hand in between their bodies, San pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth so it would serve as an extra push to tip her over the edge. Y/N splayed her hands on San's lower back, nails raking against his skin, causing him to hiss.

"Fuck- am I seriously making you feel that good babygirl?" He knew for a fact he was feeling absolutely amazing, her tight warmth gripping along his shaft, making it hard for him to hold back much longer.

"Mmm yeah." She shamelessly moaned.

"Am I better than your first?" Although he already knew the answer, he still wanted to feed his ego and hear her say it.

"So much better! It feels so fucking good." She inhaled sharply when that she began to feel the sensation from before. With even louder cries from before, her body shook underneath San's, blood rushing to her head as an even greater orgasm coursed through her body. She was left speechless, a full on panting mess even after San had pulled out of her after helping her ride out her high.

"Oh geez. Shit." San's voice rasped out as he jerked himself off, his cum painting her thighs white, not stopping until he had finished coating them with everything he had to give.

Looking down at the mess, Y/N couldn't suppress a tiny giggle, one of her hands clasping over her mouth while the other picked up some of his cum and spread it between her fingers.

"Having fun there?" San grinned, finding her fascinated gaze to be completely adorable to him.

"Yeah.." She said as sat up to get a better look at the cum around her thighs.

"Well I was going to clean it off you, but seeing as you're so entertained by it, I'll just leave you with it."

Not forgetting that he was merely a guest, San slid himself off her bed and plopped his tired body onto the blankets on the floor. Closing his eyes, he was thinking he would finally be able to sleep, but he found his plans thwarted when he felt a pair of hands graze across his chest. Looking up, he found Y/N straddling his lap, biting down on her lower lip as she grinded her wet folds along his softened dick which was now becoming hard again thanks to her.

"What in the world are you doing you crazy girl?" He sucked in a breath, not expecting her to suddenly pounce on him.

"I wanna try that again." She pleaded, grinding her hips harder on him.

"Oh my- did I accidentally turn you into a nymphomaniac?" She chuckled at his joke and although he groaned as if he was frustrated, he obliged to her wishes and sat up.

Clasping her waist with his hands, he lifted her up and guided her so she could easily sink herself down on his length. Not letting go, he slowly rolled his hips up, burying himself deep in her body once more. Since they were both still riled up from their previous session, it didn't take long for both of them to start spewing out a clutter of moans and grunts as they once again get lost in a mist of lust that clouded their minds. San drunk up every expression on Y/N's face. Every twitch of her facial muscles, every shuddering breath she exhaled, each time her eyelids shut close, he marveled at seeing her enjoy the experience. He loved seeing her indulge in such an intimate practice with him, more so given how special she was to him, one of the most important people in his life aside from his family. Looking down at her torso, his fingers brushed along the hem of her shirt.

"Please...." His urging caught her attention.

"Please let me see all of you. I want to admire every inch of you and your beautiful body. I promise I won't laugh or judge. I just want to worship you."

Y/N hesitated briefly, still afraid to let him see what was hidden under the shirt.

"It's ok if you don't want to. I won't force you." He shot a kind smile at her as he focused back on making sure to drive his cock up into her.

Feeling safe and knowing she could trust her lifelong friend whom she thought of as a soulmate at one point, Y/N reached for the bottom of her shirt and peeled it off her body. Coming face to face with her bare chest, San groaned in ecstasy as he slid his hands up her body.

"Just as I predicted, you have very cute breasts."

Pulling her chest to his face, he opened his mouth and took one of her nipples in it, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. Y/N's fingers raked themselves through his hair, harshly tugging them when she felt his teeth sink themselves into her flesh.

"Aren't they too small?" She inquired.

Letting go of her breast with an audible pop, San cupped her chin.

"No baby, they're absolutely perfect. They're gorgeous, just like every other part of your body. You're gorgeous, absolutely stunning and holy fuck, you're driving me insane honestly." He confessed, his mouth diving into her other breast so it wouldn't feel left out from being tenderly kissed and sucked on.

His words sunk deep in Y/N's heart. He really did found her beautiful, attractive and it spurred something in her. Feeling a newfound passion, Y/N unconsciously began taking over their movements. Pushing against his thrusts, she began to set her own pace, rutting herself on top of his dick. San of course took notice and was happy about it.

"Oh wanna take over now baby? Well go ahead."

Laying back down on the floor, his eyes stared up at her with lust.

"Fuck yourself on me darling."

Encouraged by him, Y/N began bouncing herself on his cock. Finding an angle that she liked, she sunk down on his length over and over, her head thrown back as she used his body to push her down another spiral of immense pleasure. San just relaxed and admired the way she lost herself and gave into her deepest desires. He loved the way she rode his cock, and he loved feeling her walls tighten once more around his shaft.

"Oh shit- Sannie." She cried out his name as she quivered on top of him, her juices spilling out onto his cock once more.

Knowing fully well she was probably aching between her thighs, San gripped her hips and helped her ride out her climax so the feeling she was going through wouldn't go away just yet. He made sure to be gentle, easing her up and down his cock with absolute tenderness. Once he knew she was satisfied, he pulled her of him and set her down on the floor before sitting up above her body. Just like before, he took hold of his cock and began pumping his cum out of his body, plastering it all across her inner thighs and even splattering some on her stomach. Looking up, Y/N had the same giggly expression as before.

"Does my cum really make you burst into a fit of giggles?" He questioned her.

"I can't help it. It's just... I don't know. Maybe it's the fact it's so dirty and wrong, and then to have you spread it all over my body." She explained, which made San chuckle.

"Maybe I should baptize your thighs with my cum more often." Although he was joking, Y/N was more than willing to take him up on that offer.

"Will you?" She looked up at him with puppy eyes.

San studied her for a moment, before a wicked idea popped in his brain.

"How about you let me baptize and stain that pretty face of yours?"

Getting a hint of what he meant, Y/N got up on her knees while San stood up right in front of her, cock in hand as he brought it up to her lips.

"I hope you weren't planning on going to morning services tomorrow because I'm going to keep you up til morning until your knees hurt."

811 notes · View notes

peachyysugaa · 3 years ago

Text

troublemaker

― dancer youtubers!lee heeseung x gn!dance major!reader

sparks fly when the top two dancers on youtube collab!

genre: slow-burn fluff, s2l

wc: 3.9k (omg i'm sorry) + 2 twitter pics

warnings: probably some wrong dance terminology, slightly suggestive (the dance is just 😳), short timeskip, it's cheesy please bear with me

part of my youtuber enhypen series, the fifth upload! feel free to read on its own~ ♞──────────────────────────♞

you finish off your last move with your arms wide open, your chest heaving up and down from lack of breath. smiling nevertheless, you know you absolutely love the feeling of getting your breath taken away after dancing because you know it meant you did your best. you walk towards the camera lens and peek at the comments through your open laptop.

"did you all enjoy that?" you ask breathlessly grinning. the flooding comments are filled with compliments from your cover of nct u's boss. however, one comment, in particular, caught your eye as others seemed to reply to it.

heeseung ✔ 2s ago wow that was amazing do you wanna do a collab sometime? 😊

line break insurance you've failed me 5x already

your eyes widen as you let out a gasp. "is that the lee heeseung?" you accidentally say out loud. you wince at the realization of your mistake. the comments are both praising you for your success in getting noticed by the other top dancer on youtuber and relating to your remark.

heeseung ✔ 3s ago haha yes it's me dm me if you want to hear more about it 🤍

"oh wow... this is really cool..." you state before blinking to get you out of your stupor. "well everyone, that's going to be all for y/n's motion of dance today! thank you so much for tuning in, love you!"

you wave goodbye for a few more moments and then shut off the broadcast, closing your laptop as soon as you do. you blink twice and suddenly let out a scream.

you stop with a gasp and cover your mouth with your hands because you cannot believe you forgot that your dance studio isn't the most soundproof of places. "sorry, other dance students..." you whisper to them but more for yourself.

taking a look around your escape, your passion, you can't believe you've made it to where you are, being praised as one of the top dancers on such a vast social media platform like youtube. if anything, you guess it runs in your family, after all, you are related to choi yeonjun, who is considered 4th gen's it boy.

though people were skeptical of you at first when you came on the youtube scene as a dancer after your older brother started taking more to modeling and acting, you quickly proved them wrong by showing them your talent and bloomed from then on. of course, you can't forget to mention the person who skyrocketed just around the same time as you.

and that was the aforementioned lee heeseung. you sigh as you finish packing up your clothes and things to head back to your dorm, glancing out the window to see the sun beginning to set. it seems today was a rare early finish for you.

"i could go for a coffee... i need to finish my classics essay anyway," you mumble to yourself, throwing your bag over your shoulder before hitting the showers and changing into a more casual set of clothes. the finishing touch is a baseball cap that sits snug on your head. tightening the strap on the back and grabbing your backpack and dance bag, you finally take your leave of your beloved dance studio and return the key on the way out. fresh air meets your face, allowing you to take a whiff of the cherry blossoms that have been blooming for a month or so as you make your way to the campus café.

ding ding, the coffee shop's calm doorbell welcomes you as your nose is hit by the sweet smells of freshly ground coffee beans. "welcome!" one of the servers calls at the counter, smiling at your figure that walks closer to order. "what can i get you?"

"hi, may i have..." you scan the menu quickly for a familiar drink. "a honey cinnamon iced latte please?"

"of course, name please?"

"choi y/n," you reply.

if they recognize you, they don't make any notion of it, simply scribbling your name on the plastic cup as you make your payment. you're grateful for the normal interaction and the peacefulness of the café, especially after a surprising stream. "i'll call you when your order's ready, choi y/n-ssi," they inform you with a warm grin.

"thank you," you smile back before going to find a seat. spotting a relatively private area close by with only a pair of boys sitting at the booth, you decide to take the booth two spaces away from them. one boy, you notice, sits taller than the other, but his face is covered by a baseball cap. the other looks like a freshman, his cheeks accentuated by a pair of deep dimples.

as you take your seat, you can't help but think the boy with dimples looks rather familiar but can't seem to place your finger on it. shrugging, you simply begin preparing to write your essay by taking out your laptop and notes from your classics ge. the moment you finish is when you hear your name being called.

"choi y/n-ssi, your honey cinnamon iced latte," the server's voice calls. on your way to receive your awaiting drink, you can finally hear the voices of the two boys sitting two booths down from you.

"did your crush just say choi y/n?" the one with the hat says.

'yes, that's me,' you think to yourself nonchalantly.

"weren't you just watching their stream, heeseung hyung?" another voice says as you pick up your latte and thank the server.

wait, heeseung? as in lee heeseung? it's when you turn around with your drink in hand that you notice the two males looking straight at you. now you're able to make out the features of the boy with the cap, and there's no mistaking it.

"lee heeseung?" you mutter out loud at the same time he speaks out yours.

well, maybe that wasn't what you were expecting today, but hey, life is full of surprises, even if they are one after the other for you. after that unexpected encounter, you and heeseung acquainted yourselves, he invited you to sit with them, and now you're sitting at their table, awkwardly sipping on your latte.

"right, so should i leave?" the other boy, who you found out is studytuber and vlogger yang jungwon (which is why he looked familiar to you), blurts out. you chuckle as heeseung shakes his shoulder lightly. "what? you two clearly have to talk about something, i need to study."

"yea, yea, lover boy. make sure you say bye to your crush on the way out," the male dancer teases, causing the younger one to turn bright red.

"don't call me that, hyung," he mutters before picking up his bag and leaving the booth. sure enough, you watch as jungwon passes by the counter and erupts into a nervous mess the moment the server beams at him.

"ah... so he likes them?" you think out loud.

"yup, it's been almost four months now. i'm the reason he even knows this cafe and that server exists," heeseung mentions, making you nod courteously. he turns his attention back to you with his hand placed under his chin. "but their relationship is besides the point. let's talk about us."

"d-did you have to put it that way?" the forwardness catches you off-guard, and you suddenly have a harder time swallowing a sip of your coffee.

"sorry," he says with a teasing smile. "i just think the collab i mentioned would be good for both of us, and it'll be really fun too."

"i agree, people who like you will come to me and vice versa," you nod. "but do you know what we would be dancing to?"

"so does that mean you're in?" he asks, smile starting to grow on his face. wordlessly, you roll your eyes and hold out your hand for him to shake. that's when his full smile comes out, causing your cheeks to heat up as you think about how much more handsome it makes him look. taking your hand, heeseung shakes it with his vigorously. "alright, dance partner, we have a deal."

after much deliberation and research, the two of you finally agree on troublemaker by the duo hyuna and hyunseung. heeseung suggested this song, stating that he always wanted to do the choreo with somebody and that it's destiny that both males have a name that starts with h and ends with seung. quite frankly, it's not like you could find much anyway, besides some cool music bank mc stages, it is cool that troublemaker was originally an opposite-gender duo in the korean entertainment industry.

the choreography however is an entirely different story. at many points, hyuna's body is touched by hyunseung and vice versa, but if they can do it and stay professional, then you believe you can too. besides, dancing will always be just dancing. heeseung also assures you that if you want, the two of you can just have your hands hovering, which makes you feel relieved to have an understanding partner.

hours pass by, and you and heeseung decide to meet at your usual dance studio daily after all your classes, which wasn't hard because he also frequented the same one.

"i still can't believe we attend the same university," you say aloud as the both of you pack up your laptops and supplies.

"i know right, you would think one of us would recognize the dance studio we go to 24/7, right?" he laughs. "although, i've seen you use a different one sometimes."

"do you really watch my covers and streams often?" you ask baffled. he and you wave the workers goodbye and make your way to the brisk evening air waiting outside as the staff sends you off.

"i do, is that so hard to believe?"

"a little," you reply sheepishly.

"well, let me walk you to your dorm and prove to you how much of a choi y/n stan i am," he boasts, and you let yourself laugh freely as you walk beside him to your destination.

it's strange, knowing a famous youtuber you watched also knew and followed you, but then again, you're not exactly nobody either. when heeseung drops you off, he admits that he actually lives a few floors above you and that you two can walk home together after each rehearsal. it's even stranger, knowing a famous youtuber literally has been on your campus, in the same dorm building as you, and this whole time, the two of you have both been clueless as to the other's existence as an ordinary college student.

speaking of which, he can't be a dance major, right? otherwise, you would've already seen him! these thoughts keep you tossing and turning to the point you don't register when you fell asleep. when you wake up, you feel as if you didn't get any sleep at all, but get up and ready nevertheless, going through another regular day as a dance major.

by the time your classes are over, you walk out of the studio yawning about to stop by your dorm to freshen up and maybe fit in a nap. you're holding a hand over your mouth mid-yawn when a voice starts talking to you.

"good thing i stopped by to get coffee." you open your eyes and close your mouth to see lee heeseung holding two cups of coffee. he's dressed in an oversized white shirt and grey sweatpants, a common dance practice outfit, so why is your heart skipping so many beats. "yo, choi y/n."

"heeseung," you say, still shocked. he hands you the coffee, which is actually the same flavor you got yesterday. "thanks."

"no problem," he replies coolly. "maybe we should take a break before we get to it?"

"i'll be fine, how about we can start watching the choreo?"

"they're always ready to dance," he nods with an impressed smile. "as expected of a dance major."

the two of you walk inside and book a studio for a few hours as you raise an eyebrow at him. "wait, what major are you?"

"music production."

"that makes so much sense!" you say relieved, stepping into the studio room for the umpteenth time. "i was racking my brains wondering what major you were."

"so the famous choi y/n is curious about me?" he smirks. you groan and facepalm in response. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. let's watch the video on my tablet?"

nodding, the two of you watch carefully, eyes glued to the screen at your respective roles. you hold your breath at some touchy parts but also notice that both idols were able to shine in their solos.

"a few tweaks here and there, and it'll be perfect," heeseung comments once the video is over. "but let's go over some boundaries, yeah? let me know what you're comfortable with and what you're not."

"right," you agree, once again relieved to have such a safe and understanding partner like him. "well, i think i'm okay with you touching my arms, shoulders, and hips like hyunseung did to hyuna. i just need some time to get used to it."

"alright, that sounds good," he says nodding with a hand under his chin. "then for today, i'll just hover my hands over the places they need to be."

"what a gentleman," you tease.

he rolls his eyes playfully at you. "let's start marking."

and so that's what the two of you start on. with the video on the tablet, you go through the motions with the speed lowered, eventually picking up more moves until you're able to follow at the normal speed. as expected of the top two dancers on youtube, the two of you are quick on observing and learning the dance and get done with basic marking within 20 minutes or so.

after marking, you take a quick water break to watch the video again in full detail, officially beginning your first real practice. as promised, throughout the entirety of marking, heeseung has kept his hands to himself, but you've become comfortable enough to have him do a little more.

before you start practicing for real, you decide to speak with him. "hee," you call him as he puts down his water bottle.

"hm?" he confirms that you have his attention, looking up with his large doe-like eyes while wiping his mouth off from some excess water.

"uhm.." you fidget with your top a little before mustering up some courage. "you can do light touches now for the choreo."

"really? are you sure?" you nod at his question, causing him to come up to you and ruffle your hair lightly. you bat his hands away with a pout, smoothing out the mess he made as he laughs at you. "that's great, y/n," he says with a bright smile, unknowingly making your heart beat a little faster as you nod again. in your head, you rush to cover up the physical reaction with an excuse that it's just from the amount of exercise you've done.

the two of you stand in front of the mirror, ready to go. before the music starts, heeseung turns to you and says, "just let me know if i make you uncomfortable at all."

"i'll be fine," you reassure him with a small smile. that's when the song begins, and the sparks start to fly. every move flowed like water, yet every touch between the two of you was like electricity as if the two elements were working together instead of fighting. even though the touches are light, they still put chills up your spine, in a way that you can only describe with the phrase "meant to happen."

was fate moving its course to put this match together, or were you imagining it? you're not sure, but you grin while catching your breath once the first practice is over. falling to the floor softly, you sit with your hands splayed behind you and let out a relieved sigh. "ahh... dancing is so... great!"

heeseung chuckles at your reaction and offers a hand to get you up. "i'm glad you think that because we got a lot more practice ahead of us, partner."

"yup!" you say with a widening smile. the moment you took his hand, you felt an electric jolt that almost made you let go. getting up, you shake it off and barely catch the expression on your dance partner's face. "is something the matter?"

he blinks a bit before he's shaking his head with that charming smirk of his. "nope! let's practice!"

practice, practice, practice. that's how the next few hours go. and just like the day before, heeseung walks you to your dorm building, this time the conversation about how excited the two of you are for the recording.

that's basically how the next four or so days go, now that heeseung came into your life. your daily routine of wake up, eat, class, dance, repeat was shaken by him, because now he was a part of it. it's an indescribable feeling, hanging out with him. the best word, or phrase actually, is the same one you used while dancing with him: meant to be.

so when you finally get to the day of recording, you almost don't want it to end. at least, that's what you're telling your best friend and makeup artist, kim sunoo.

"friend, you're telling me that you and this guy have been following along to..." he tells you to look up as he curls your eyelashes. "a dance like that for four days and you've been getting shocks this whole time?"

"i mean, yeah?"

"y/n, i love you, but you're missing a little something, aren't you?"

"wha-!?"

"pucker up, sweetie, we're making your lips look kissable," sunoo commands. you do an eye-roll but do as he says. "if you don't ask him out or do something by the end of this, you can at least kiss your best shot at a boyfriend goodbye with luscious lips."

he finishes applying the color and asks you to rub your lips together and make that pop sound. "perfect," your best friend compliments. "go out there and get your mans."

"thank you, sunoo!" you say, gazing at your reflection in the mirror and loving the way he accentuated your features. "by the way, you're all talk. you should ask your celebrity crush out when they appear on your channel."

"i'll get there when i get there!" he whines and starts pushing you out of his dorm room. "just go get 'em, tiger."

with that, you make your way to the dance studio where heeseung is waiting for you, dressed in hyunseung's iconic suit with the leopard-patterned blazer. your heart quickens, seeing how much more handsome he looks dressed up, hair slicked back and some makeup done. he looks up upon hearing the door open and his mouth slightly hangs open as well.

the both of you are silent as you approach him, in your equally bedazzling outfit, sheer to mimic hyuna's stage dress. "you look amazing," the two of you say at the same time. stunned at the simultaneous sentence, you two immediately start guffawing at how this was unlike your usual interactions.

"that was so awkward!" you blurt out, unable to contain your laughter.

"yea, not like us at all," he admits while he wipes a stray tear from laughing too hard away. smiling at each other, you admire the way his eyes reflect your image and sparkle. "you ready to get this show on the road."

"ready as i'll ever be." the two of you get into your positions on the opposite ends of the room, and heeseung starts the camera and the music soon after. you take each step slowly to meet him in the middle as he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips to give it a kiss while smirking. you keep your face professional as the two of you take a few steps forward, the back of his fingers curled over the front of yours.

starting back-to-back, you walk forward a bit before the beat drops and heeseung's part begins. you're on autopilot as you dance your fingers from his chest to his shoulders, and then the chorus comes. hips swaying, you're able to feel his hands' light taps on your body as the two of you lose yourself to the music you've danced to hundreds of times this week.

then, it's your killing part as you lipsync hyuna's rap and take bold steps around heeseung's body, ending up behind him to bring your hands over his shoulders and make a scratching movement across his chest. you step towards his side, do your thing, and walk away as if playing hard to get.

you wait for his part during the bridge and make a side glance towards him before moving towards him and performing the hip-heavy part of the chorus together. your partner moves his face up along your arm, taking it in like you're a statue. you then act like you brush him away when heeseung gets close enough. after this second chorus, you're leaving him to do his big solo, watching carefully as he makes his every move precise and crisp yet flow well.

it's the last chorus now, and this time, you can't take your eyes off each other as you finally face one another. you stay drowning in his shades of brown without a single misstep until you have to walk away from him. you wait for him to come towards you, back slightly turned away as he jaunts forward, making his way to be captured by your hand behind his neck.

the last breath of the song is the one where you're supposed to turn your head away as his own chases yours, but this time, you brave forward and lean in close. the music fades away, but all you hear is his breathing, feeling it against your own.

you stay like this, ensnared in each other's arms, forgetting about everything except the person wrapped close to you as you feel his every breath against your lips and every inhale and exhale under your hand. he searches your eyes, looking for some kind of sign. "do you mind if i—"

that was all you needed before you're pressing your lips against his. it only takes seconds for him to kiss you back, moving his hands from their previous position on your hips to hold your face. becoming breathless from dancing was one thing, becoming breathless from kissing heeseung was another thing entirely, it was in a league of its own you note as you pull away and rest your forehead on his.

"we'll have to edit that out," you say after what seemed like ages of taking each other in while chuckling.

"i have a better idea than editing."

"oh, and what's that, handsome?"

"look at you getting all bold, troublemaker," heeseung replies with that smile of his. he shakes his head, moving away from you and taking your hand in his. "how about we go on our first official date as youtube's top dancer couple?"

"that does sound like a better idea," you agree, your own smile widening.

"then let's make it happen, sweetheart."

bonus! - click for full images

taglist: @cha-raena @imjustme-things @misoiishi @rikitaiyaki send an ask to join the taglist! :3c permanent taglist: @fiantomartell

a/n: wow this was a long one!! i'm not sure if i detailed all the movements well, but i hope you all enjoyed it nevertheless <3

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypenwriters #lee heeseung x reader #lee heesseung fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #lee heeseung imagines #enhypen heeseung #captured on camera #this came out more detailed than i thought it would be JFAIJFA

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carbonateddelusion · 2 years ago

Text

I think. part of Eddie's route would be trying to earn his kids' and Isaac and Noah's trust, plus maybe Nathan too

because if his babies don't trust you (beyond the usual "they're trying to steal dad >:<) he won't trust you. and Noah is stable enough to make unbiased judgements, plus Isaac has a pretty good is-this-person-a-piece-of-shit-o-meter because of their family

of course, meeting the kids would be a "you are very close with Eddie" kind of thing unless they showed themselves to you. which is.. what happened with Noah. sometimes Liv, Maddie, Owen, Jun, and Beth get really excited when they see new people and forget/don't care to hide. I think.. the protag (you) would have the option to either be more.. chill? about it or freak the fuck out OR get really excited yourself. the ideal scenario is someone who is already spiritual and therefore completely believes him over them not being hallucinations. that'd get major Love Points. plus. yk. sometimes it's nice to have a reminder that you aren't actually talking to yourself and that these people are real.

if you fail the Child Administered Vibe Check, you are IMMEDIATELY cut off from finishing his route. this is where it'd be much easier for the family-oriented/child-friendly protag. I also think it'd be kinda cute if his cat, Amie, was sort of like. an Eddie love gage. if he doesn't trust you, she'll hiss and arch her back, if he's still on that "acquaintance" level, she'll hide from you, if he considers you a friend, she'll rub her head against your hand, etc. yk, animals matching their owners and all and having a good judge of character.

there'd also be a lot of little things like.. body language would be majorly important. all the Physical and Emotional things, and the cognitive/logical only comes into play if he starts to like you as a person. he needs his space. he can tell if you're unstable.

I think another special route for Eddie would factor that last bit in. if you're controlling, manipulative, overbearing, etc., you get The Worst Ending where Eddie is terrified of you and his friends and family completely cut you off from him. of course, I specify that THEY would do that because it's very unlikely he'd have the gall to do it himself. unless you like.. really pissed him off. ROYALLY infuriated him.

I also think it'd be neat to have a little nod toward how stuff wasn't as.. open? back then. like, there'd be an option for neopronouns, gnc pronouns, etc., and if you select them Edgar will be confused and make a comment. and then basically go... "oh! oh, like Isaac!" internally. that'd make him much more comfortable with you right off of the bat. he KNOWS you wouldn't cause shit for him being gay.

#i think the thought of eddie and amie is funny bc. he is a Very Large Man and she is a Very Small Cat #also unrelated fact: noah has impeccable gaydar. the only people who trip him up are mac n steve who are isaac's friends #another thing i think would be neat to take into consideration is that. eddie gravitates toward either Himbos or Smart Bois like him lol #bbfbfbbfnf dont mind me im rambling #feel free to ask what other routes/other characters' routes would be like this is fun #one more thought: i think he'd have an easier time with someone who is also nd bc they can misinterpret social cues together /hj

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years ago

Note

I picked out classes and races for this particular campaign because: A) It's a one shot B) It's with all new players who have only ever seen D&D through Stranger Things [I have done a lot more research though] and C) Because the only possible day to do it is this Thursday. I just figured, it would be easier to introduce everyone to D&D and work quickly since we're short on time and it's a one shot. Question: Villain ideas for newbies and level ones?

Oh yeah that makes a lot of sense! Character creation can definitely be time consuming, so doing it this way makes it easier for everyone involved. I always make mine way ahead of time, and when I helped run my middle schools dnd club with my dad we spent the entire first meeting just making characters with everyone.

Though your comment does make me wonder again just how many people have gotten into dnd because of stranger things. I think it's endearing :)

But back to your question! When you say newbie villains the very first thing that pops into my head is goblins. That's partly because I've played through The Lost Mines of Phandelver with people so much, and partly because when I was a kid goblins were a lot of what my dad used as the enemies in those one shots. They're simple, have few hit points, and are intelligent enough that you can turn them into an organization or camp to take down pretty easily! They're intelligent enough to be corrupt, so you can turn them into villains that way!

However there are many other things you can use that I'm not thinking of, so I will be consulting my father one moment please.

Okay, so my dad said pretty much the same thing but with a few additions. He also thinks goblins are a good starter enemy, both for the reasons I said and because you can scale them up. Goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears are all in kinda the same "goblin" category, but provide different experiences and variety while still being related.

Another option is animals. Things like wolves or bears, though I don't know how well that would fit into the campaign you're making. They could be the focus of your fights or an enemy could have a wolf as a pet you need to fight. Either way, they're a pretty solid choice.

Something else mentioned was kobolds. They're humanoid lizards that are associated with traps, so if you wanna spring some traps on your players they could be a good pick. Then like the goblins they're also intelligent enough to build a story around their actions.

Orcs are also a pretty classic choice for the same reason goblins are. When I think of a starter game I think of goblins and orcs, so those may be worth looking into for your campaign

The main thing he advised to avoid for new players and DMs is any enemy with spells. Before you become more acquainted with different spells you'll just end up taking time to look them up and figure out how they work, so since you're under a time crunch you'll probably want to avoid that. Since you're already planning on having a mage-like character, having to work out both the mage's and the enemy's spells could be a hassle.

A final just personal note/suggestion I'd add is that if you're looking for monsters, consider either avoiding or ignoring any immunities a monster might have. In my opinion that's a more technical aspect, and if your players are trying to kill something but nothing is happening and they don't know the rules, that can be frustrating. However! You know your players better than I do and if you think they'd enjoy having to figure out how to kill creatures with immunities then feel free to disregard this!

I hope some of this helps! I don't have all the context so please pick and choose whatever of this applies to your situation, and if there's anything else I (or my dad) can help you with I'd be more than happy to do so! Your dnd asks are making me want to play again so I'm just sitting here like. buzzing with excitement for you :)

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #quil's queries #dnd nonsie #i walked out to my dad to ask the question like 'my first response was goblins' and he just looked at me #and went '...my first thought was also goblins'#which like. makes sense because I learned everything from him #but also was funny in the moment #my dads main point was: have fun!#and I concur #i'm losing my train of thought. i hope this helps. I hope your game goes well. if you have more questions I'll do my best to answer them!#<33 #long post

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fumbling-fanfics · 5 years ago

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Ransom Thrombey x Reader...

Warnings: Smut, Ransom being an asshole, slightly non-con in part, theft.

Pairing: Ransom x Reader

**********************************************

You rolled your eyes with a scoff at the *Be careful* text that had come through to your phone from your best friend. It was in reference to Ransom Thrombey.

The guy whose car you were sat in, speeding towards his place.

You were fully aware of how much of an absolute asshole he was. You were casual acquaintances. And usually you would have kept your distance. But he was hot. He wasn't your ex. He also wasn't the slimy guy at the bar who wouldn't take no for an answer. Who else where you meant to fuck.

*He's a A grade asshole* was the following text. You quietly snorted to yourself and replied with *I know. I'll be fine*

"What?“ Ransom asked, with a quick glance your way. His eyes didn't reach your face, just your exposed thigh above your boots and below your cream dress that stopped just above mid thigh.

"Nothing, just calling off the search party for me" you mumble, throwing your phone into your small clutch and snapping it shut.

"You're hot property" he commented - sounding proud he managed to snatch you away. You suppressed another eye roll and remained quiet.

***

You'd never been to Ransom's place, but it was no surprise. Asshole-trust-fund-baby's interior design taste seemed to be obvious.

"Drink?“ he asked tossing his keys into a far too expensive bowl as he strut off into his house.

"Please" you were probably going to need some more alcohol to dull the asshole in Ransom. You followed him into the kitchen, eyeing the interior as you walked, your boots clicking along the floor.

"I only have red, is that okay?“

“Sure" you hated red, but then again there wasn't much to like about Ransom. A pretty face only made up for so much.

***

Where you meant to argue with someone you were about to fuck? Like really argue? You had contemplated leaving, but it was late. Plus the Uber app showed the nearest uber 30 mins away.

You had to admit it was kind of fun pissing Ransom off. He hadn't expected you to be so smart, with a good answer for everything. You had him stuck for words several times. "You got a smart mouth" he grinned, clearly annoyed at one point.

"You can't possibly believe that, but then again you did refer to me earlier as property" you sipped your drink for dramatic effect. But that only seemed to piss Ransom off more - turning his words against him.

He was clearly more annoyed that you realised because his next move was to toss the contents of the wine glass in his hand in your direction. The red liquid instantly soaked into your dress. Your cream dress.

That's how much of an asshole Ransom was. But you weren't going to get angry. Not yet anyway. You'd come this far.

You looked at the liquid running down your thigh and roughly wiped away the trail before it reached the top of your boot. You looked up at Ransom's smug face, lost for words for a moment.

"I'll have my maid clean your dress" God herself wouldn't be able to get the wine out of the dress.

"If you wanted me to take my clothes off so badly you should have just asked me already" You pushed away from the kitchen counter and walked out of the kitchen. Slowly unzipping your dress.

"Where are you going?" Ransom called after you.

"The bedroom is this way, right?"

***

Ransom was selfish, and it showed in the way he had sex. It wasn't bad, far from it. But he just did things so you would do things to him in return.

Your already scored one point - as you peeled off your ruined dress you could see that there was a moment of realisation, that with you he couldn't get away with doing the bare minimum or demand you did stuff solely for him.

He went down on you, but it was obvious it was only so you would go down on him. But that wasn't to say he was bad at it. Of course Ransom was good at everything he did.

You could feel like light stubble on his face against the inside of your thighs. He was good with his mouth, but when he added in his fingers your back arched off his bed, your hands jumping to the top of his head, messing up that perfect asshole quiff.

Even with his head between your legs, you could sense that asshole smirk. "You like that?“ he cockily asked. Your just nodded your head along with a high pitched hum. He pushed you down against his bed, and when he added a finger to the two that were already inside you it only took a few moments before your were gripping the forearm of hand that was pushing down on your stomach as you came.

You didn't want to return the favour. They way he sat on the edge of his bed, like some demanding King. Legs open, resting back on his arms and that asshole smirk. You should have grabbed up your dress and left, but then again the score was One-all and you were determined to win.

You had to admit to yourself that Ransom had a nice cock. It was nice to look at, one you'd enjoy receiving a picture of. But of course he did. It was Ransom, and you weren't going to actually tell him that.

As you knelt down between his legs, Ransom dropped down onto his elbows, you ran your hands up his bare thighs - watched his cock bounced a little as your fingers tickled his skin.

Ransom shuddered with a groan as you slowly took him in your mouth as you looked up at him, your tongue running along the underside of his cock as you leant forward taking him into your mouth. His hips jerked as he hit the back of your throat.

Soon you rid him of that smirk, and you weren't even trying hard. It was his turn to have the duvet screwed up in his hands. You watched his lower abdomen muscles twitch, impressed with the curses you managed to pull from him.

A few moments before you could tell he was about to cum, you let him slowly slide out of your mouth. When he didn't feel your mouth again, he propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you.

You climbed on top of him, positioning yourself in his lower stomach. You watch as his eyes dart between your face, breasts and the wetness he could no doubt feel on his lower stomach where you sat.

"I was just about to cum" he whines, like a spoilt brat.

Two - One to you, maybe even Three - One. You pressed your chest against his as you leant down to kiss Ransom. He gropes at your waist as his tongue slide into your mouth.

You manage to slide your hand down between you both so you grip his cock and manoeuvre the tip just into you. A little.

When you push back on his chest, looking down at him you're little smirk puts an end to your games. Ransom is pushing his hip, quickly entering you as he's ulling you down onto him, and rolling you both over - plenty of room left on his huge custom made bed.

He bottoms out inside you, has you trying to crawl back and create some distance, but he just pins you to the bed. "You're not going anywhere" he growls.

You lose count on the internal score you have going on - is it Six-All, or Eight-Five, or Eight-Seven.

You're not sure, the orgasms have you a little confused, but you have Ransom on his back again. He has two fingers in your mouth as you start to ride him. Your press your hands into his chest, widen the stance of your knees either side of his hips, and roll your hips slowly, in a tight circle, keeping most if him inside you. He watches how you move, the other hand gripping your waist because he's not sure how you're doing that. Is it an illusion? Because it feels too good to be fake.

You let your head drop back, his fingers slipping out of your mouth as his hand slide down to your neck. He squeezes a little, not wanting to ruin the moment by being too much of an asshole at the wrong time. He feels you flutter around him, and squeezes again - maintaining the pressure, trying to hold off his own orgasm, because it's gonna be his last and he wants it to count.

You're trying to hold off your own orgasm too. Thinking of things that detract from the feeling of Ransom inside you. You're ruined dress. How much of an asshole he is. If you can order an uber so you don't have to stay the night. But all your mind keeps thinking of his how his hands grip you with the right pressure, keeping you low down in him. How he feels inside you, how you can feel all of him as you clench like your own body is trying to get more.

"Fu-k" the curse comes out broken from Ransom's mouth. His hand slips from your throat to the other side of your waist as he tries to hold you down on him so he can really bury himself inside of you. And that's all it takes to have you cuming. Your back arches, your pelvis tilting forward trying to get more. Your fingers wrap around both Ransom's forearms and dig in.

You manage to stay up right, panting in time with Ransom. Ten - Eight to you.

***

Ten-All. You don't think that because you're asleep. But it is. Because you fell asleep before you could get out of Ransom's.

Now he lays half awake next to you wishing his phone was closer so he could take a picture. You were a great catch - maybe he'll ask you back somehow.

Ransom had managed to pull the covers back down to your waist to admire you as you slept. Maybe he'd push you out of bed. Maybe he'd hold a pillow over your head for jokes. Or

He pressed up against you, running his hand from your neck, between your breasts and down your stomach. With a sigh you rolled onto your side, youre back to Ransom.

That wasn't exactly the reaction he was looking for. He shuffles up against your back. His cock sitting nicely between your ass cheeks, as his hand tickles down your stomach again. He dips his fingers between your legs and slides them along your clit, rubbing soft, slow circles.

"Good morning to you too" You mumble. Ransom doesn't verbally reply, just shoves him hand further between your legs, trying to get his fingers inside you. Your grunt, pushing him off of you.

Ransom rolls onto his back, slowly stroking himself.

"Maybe I should go" as you sit up, Ransom grabs your arm pulling you back down. There was a brief moment of struggle between you and Ransom and he ended up on top of you.

He pinned your arms over your head. "Why don't you stay for breakfast? How's eggs sound?"

You pulled your wrists from his grip, holding them against your chest. "I really doubt you can actually cook" you snorted.

You don't mean to inflame Ransom so much, but it was a statement that probably had weight.

Ransom's eyes narrowed, and he grabbed both your wrists in one of his hands, pressing them into your chest. He shifted on you slightly, grabbing himself. He started to stroke himself, maintaining eye contact with you.

"Ransom stop it" when you pushed your arms up, Ransom pushed down harder.

"Don't be disgusting" you tried to fight him off but he was stronger than you.

"Ransom, no" he pressed your wrists into your chest harder, as he quickened the pace in which he jerked himself off.

Before you could stop him, he came all over your stomach. He held you down, allowing himself to fully finish. The cum was hot against your skin. He relaxed letting go for your wrists.

"You're a fucking asshole you know that" you elbowed Ransom off of you and stormed off to the bathroom. You grabbed one of the small towels from the handrail, ran it under the hot water tap and started to clean yourself up.

Behind you, you could hear the sound of Ransom's bare feet against the heated bathroom tiles. "I'm sorry"

You glared up at him in reflection of the mirror. "You're not"

"I am, let me make it up to you" his hands found your waist, pulling you back against him. His new erection was evident, sliding between your ass cheeks as he rubbed up against you.

"I'm going to have a shower" you pushed away from him, Fleet slapping against the warm marble. You made sure to slam the door shut, happy to see him leave the bathroom after a moment.

When you stepped out of the shower Ransom was nowhere to be seen.

In just the towel you wandered through his place until you found him.

He was sat on one of his fancy single chairs, dressed. He smirked on seeing you enter the living area. The mostly glass space making you feel more vulnerable under his gaze.

"I'll call you tomorrow" Ransom hung up the phone, smirking at you.

"I'm going to ask if you cleaned my dress, even though I know the answer is no" Ransom just chuckled to himself.

"Slipped my mind"

"Guess you'll have to stick around a bit longer, unless you're gonna leave in that. Now I know you look good in anything, but a towels a stretch" his smug smile increases. But rather than give him the satisfaction of being angry you spin on your heels and walk back to the bedroom.

"No worries"

"I don't like this new you y/n, she's no fun" he calls out.

"Fuck you Ransom… Oh wait I already did" you mumble to yourself and you rip off the towel, throwing it to the ground, giving Ransom a nice view of your ass as you walked off.

You storm to his obscenely large walk in wardrobe and start rummaging around. You're pretty sure there's probably some left over female clothes you can find.

But it's not another females clothes you find.

An hour later yours slipping out of the back door for Ransom's place, dressed in more than a towel, walking across the gravel to the waiting uber. The driver greets you as you get in confirming your name and the drop off point.

You smugly smile as you feel your phone vibrating in your clutch. You slowly answer the phone, half wondering if you should let it go to voicemail.

"Yes Ransom" you know he can hear the smirk in your voice.

"Being naked won't get you 5 stars on Uber"

"Most people don't hold others hostage by taking their clothes" the Uber drivers eyes flick onto you in the rear view mirror and then back onto the road. "If you wanted me to stay you should have just asked"

"I asked you if you wanted breakfast" you snorted down the phone.

"I'm sure you'll be back for your dress anyway"

"Unlikely, tie-dye is so last year" you hang up, and open up your camera taking a snap of your new outfit and send it to Ransom.

*A little worn, but comfy. The holes give character* you add after the picture.

*I want my jumper back* is the reply. You can feel his anger even half way from his place.

*We all want a lot of things Ransom, doesn't mean we get them*

**********************************************

Tags: @ellixthea @lovelymari4 @chaneajoyyy

@honeychicana @beaminglife @amelatonin @themyscxiras @crushed-pink-petals @lady-olive-oil @jojolu @endless00paradise @est1887 @cajunpeach @melinda-january @profoundlynerdywolf @deathonyourtongue @designerwriterchic @itsbqueenthings @alicesfracturedmirror @joebob15274 @write-fromthe-start @islanddgal @tarashari-tfp @dc41896

#poc reader #Woc oc #Poc oc #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey imagine #Ransom Thrombey fanfic

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shownusaurus · 4 years ago

Text

Summary: you have always been told that the line between love and hate is thin. well, so is the line between love and friendship.

Pairing: Son Hyunwoo x Reader

Featuring: Monsta X Ensemble

The first time you see him, he's wearing a tawny, v-neck crochet cardigan with nothing underneath and some white leather pants. You're so distracted by his friend though that you walk straight into him, and your steaming tea flies out of the cup you'd previously been fiddling with and onto his practically bare chest. Not to worry though, because it also flies back onto you and scolds your hand, and while you let out a small yelp and shake your hand, dropping your cup and effectively staining his friend's white shoes.

He ends up laying across your couch for the rest of the evening and night as you'd insisted you tend to the scald, and you soon learn that his name is Hyunwoo. When he tells you, his friend Hoseok leans forward to hold the pack to Hyunwoo's skin as it seems you've sunken into a daze that makes the aforementioned cackle with glee.

You're all quick to become friends even though you suspect Hyunwoo's become annoyed with your neverending apologies for having spilt your tea all over him. Hoseok watches the two of you fondly, happy for his friend as he notices the hearts in his eyes, and with your permission acquaints himself with your extensive ramyeon collection.

If he notices the moons you're making right back at Hyunwoo, he doesn't comment, but you know he does as he sits on your armchair and slurps noisily at the noodles he's eating with your nice chopsticks, cheeks puffed out and neck bent so that the noodles don't slip from between the two sticks, though his eyes are on you and he seems to be smirking as best he can.

They stay the night eventually as it starts snowing heavily outside, Hyunwoo on the couch after he'd fallen asleep, and embarrassingly, Hoseok and you share the bed. He crackles loudly when your face flares up but promises you're not his type and there'd be no funny business as long as you could keep your hands to yourself. You don't know whether to be insulted or thankful.

After that, you three spend a lot of time together. Your hand heals although there is a scar that fades within the month, and as it turns out Hyunwoo has super-human healing abilities and the blotch where you'd spilt your drink is gone within two weeks. You use your envy of his "abilities" to touch his abs whenever you can, and you have a feeling he knows, but he doesn't let on either way.

Hoseok is another thing entirely. When you let it slip accidentally that the reason you'd even bumped into Hyunwoo was because you'd been enraptured by his, as you so eloquently put it, "bulging man titties", he collapses to the ground, holding his stomach as his muscles contract with his laughter. You notice Hyunwoo deflate at your side as you say it, though, and for the next few days he's even quieter than usual, and shows up on the third day of avoiding you wearing what you think is probably the sluttiest shirt he owns. He smirks every time he notices your eyes trailing down to his chest, and you don't like that, the smug son of a bitch. You mistakenly turn it into a competition between Hoseok and Hyunwoo with who has the best tiddies, and they invite over Hyungwon, Hoseok's boyfriend, to help decide.

You're both naturally biased, and as much as you're awkward around strangers, you two seem to get along quite well. He's definitely one of the prettiest boys you'd ever seen and the minute you see him you snap about their friend group being just gorgeous men and how it's unfair, and all three of them crack up. The competition begins then, and although it's definitely obvious that Hoseok's man tits are absolutely ginormous and he's probably more swole than fucking Superman, jaws- specifically yours- drop when Hyunwoo pulls out his last defense definition.

He vibrates his tiddies.

The noise you let out is not human at all, and the way your eyes widen and cheeks puff is a dead giveaway to your embarrassment at having even made that noise- a cross between a wheeze and a whine-, nobody comments on your flustered state but everybody decides they need to mimick the noise you made. You faceplant the nearest cushion, much to everyone's amusement. Hoseok has made his way into your ramyun collection again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Things actually get heated the first time that you and Hyunwoo are alone together. He'd taken you on a slow walk, it being around 9pm. Hyungwon, Hoseok and Kihyun had been left at your house and the way they'd been sucked into Supernatural you'd imagine they hadn't even noticed you'd gone.

You come to a stop in the park, hands brushing against each other shyly until he eventually slides his fingers between yours, a gentle smile gracing his already beautiful face. You look up at him then, staring, eyes wide and lips open. When he looks at you he feels heat bloom across his chest and cheeks, and he squeezes your hand tightly in his own. You squeeze back and suddenly it feels like his heart is constricted in his chest. You look so beautiful then, the moonlight framing your hair perfectly and casting a ghostly glow across your cheeks, accentuating every curve of your face in a way that reminds him so much of stories of Artemis it's uncanny.

He hears you murmur something beneath your breath and when his eyes snap to yours inquisitively, body moving to angle so that he's facing you directly, your other hand moves up to trail so gently across his cheek that he barely feels your touch, only the heat coming off you. He wants to close his eyes and sink into you, but you speak before he can, and his adams apple bobs in his throat, eyes trailing to the ground.

"I can see stars in your eyes." you'd murmured, and the smile that lights up his features is heavenly, the pleasant clench in your chest a reminder of your feelings, the happiness that blooms within you at having that smile directed at you and only you. His hand comes up to grasp yours and he presses it against his face further, sinking into your gentle caress with a happy sigh, eyes closing and figure relaxing curving into your own. His other hand, the one that had been holding yours the whole time, released yours and found its way to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You don't think, but let your body tell you, and your arm eventually comes up to snake around the back of his neck, your other hand eventually finding it's way to your own while his comes to gently touch your own cheek.

Your eyes droop as he leans down, his own eyes heavy, breathing slow and relaxed. He stops before your lips touch and you whine needily as he chuckles, nose brushing intimately against your own, foreheads pressed together. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there as he pulls you forward slightly so that you're now stood on your tiptoes. Your lips brush against each other and you want to dive forward and smash your lips together, but the intimacy of taking it slow holds you back.

He nuzzle his nose against yours, brows furrowed but not unhappily, a large sigh falling past his lips. His natural woodsy scent combined with the smell of fading cologne encompasses you in much the same way his arms have, and as his lips finally press to yours oh so gently... So does the smell of alcohol.

It's like your heart cracks in your chest. You fall back onto the heels of your feet, ruining the moment entirely, and as your eyes snap open so do his. He looks confused, maybe even hurt as your hands slide down his chest and fall limply to your sides, but it doesn't compare to the emotional pain you currently feel. His grip on your hip slacks enough for you to slip from his hands, though he holds on for a moment before finally letting go as his eyes search yours.

It's a wonder, considering you'd been staring so intently into them, that you hadn't noticed the haziness of his eyes and the slight lazy look about him that wasn't usually there. How didn't you smell the alcohol before? you ask yourself as you take another step back, and finally his own arms fall to his sides. Now he does look confused, enough to open his mouth and lick his lips slowly before questioning you, and you bark out a harsh laugh that makes him flinch where he stands.

"As if you don't know, Son Hyunwoo." you whimper, looking down where your hands have clasped in front of you. He looks even more confused now than he had before and he tries to take a step forward but the toe of his boot catches on a slab and he stumbles, though corrects himself fairly quickly. You tremble as he rights himself and comes to stare into your own eyes, and if you hadn't known any better you'd have thought he actually looked sad when he saw the tears in your eyes.

"What-" he starts, but you snap then, and a stubborn, salty tear rolls down your cheek. His heart clenches in his chest, but it's not the same as before- now his Artemis is hurting, and... and it hurts.

You sneer harshly and this time he steps back, more confused than ever with how your face has twisted into a vicious, sad snarl. "I can smell the alcohol on you, Hyunwoo." you snip, your voice shaking with anger and pain, your arms wrapping around yourself as if to comfort yourself.

"Whatever, Hyunwoo. I thought you were different." and that's the last thing you say to him for two weeks. You turn and begin the trek home, all the while he's walking along behind you and begging for you to listen, to understand. You ignore him as best you can, but you eventually burst into hysterical sobs as tears cascade down your face. He watches your shoulders shake and your steps stutter and he offers to carry you the rest of the way, but he gets no response, only your slow steps in the direction of your home.

He slows down too, he wouldn't dare walk beside you with you feeling this way because of him. When you eventually burst into your apartment and startle the other three out of their hyperfixation on the show you run into your room straight away. Hyunwoo is faster than you and steps in front of the doorway, but you slide under his arm and slam the door behind you, sliding down the other side and allowing yourself to succumb entirely to your pain.

He frantically beats against the door, calling your name as his eyes start to swim, but he gets no response and lets his forehead fall against the thin door with a thud, fists resting on the door at the side of his neck. He trembles but doesn't cry, and the apartment fills with the sound of your hurt.

When he eventually turns and looks at the others, Hyungwon and Kihyun are sat together in the corner, side eyeing him with clenched jaws, but neither say anything.

It's two weeks before you speak to him again. He comes over with Hoseok, Kihyun, Hyungwon and Minhyuk still, but it's rare- where he'd come over almost every day before, now you've only seen him twice. Each time you see him it's a reminder of the pain you feel, but when he's away it hurts, too.

But Hoseok, sweet, sweet Hoseok- he's pissed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kihyun becomes your comfort. Hyungwon and Hoseok are there for you if you need it, but neither are good with emotions and Hoseok starts crying if he sees you crying, so you can't really lean on him in a time where you spend most of your days wasting away in front of the TV, watching sappy romcoms and crying into your bowl of ice cream. There has been the odd time Hoseok has sat with you and cried into your ramyun, but emotions are exhausting and you don't expect him to have to put up with yours and his every time he comes over. Minhyuk is aware of what happened but you met him after, and while he's a ball of sunshine always trying to cheer you up, it's not the same. Kihyun is there as a shoulder to cry on, as a protective wall between you and Hyunwoo when he's there, as someone who dries your tears if you're too tired to do it yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunwoo spends a lot of his time at home, curled up on the sofa eating his sorrows too- he doesn't cry half as much as you do, but he still cries sometimes. His muscles have softened slightly because he hasn't been working out as much, but he doesn't care right now. If you're not there to look he doesn't want anyone to, and so he doesn't care all that much about a softening belly as he might have before.

Changkyun and Jooheon are there for his comfort. Changkyun is funny and spirited, and he keeps his mind off things. His boyfriend, Jooheon, is much more soft around the edges, there to offer tissues if needed or just let Hyunwoo cry onto his shoulder.

And then, Kihyun shows up. He's angry and tired from looking after you, and his recently dyed orange hair reflects his current mood. He sneers as he presses his finger into the center of Hyunwoo's chest, eyes piercing and teeth clenched as he tells him that he better sort things out with you or so help him god, he'd shove his foot somewhere the sun doesn't shine, because you talk about him as if he hung the stars in the sky for you even still.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It takes him two days, but he hits the gym harder than he ever has before, shaves his itchy stubble and takes a long, hot shower before he works up the courage to come to your house alone.

When you answer the door your breath catches in your throat. Hyunwoo. He looks good all things considered, but you can see the slight thinning of his cheeks and the purple circles peeking out from beneath a light concealer Kihyun had no doubt made him put on. He looks good, but he somehow looks awful, too. You'd have thought it would be nice to know that he was suffering as well as you, but it doesn't help. It just hurts. You don't go to close the door like you should. He walks in anyway, slowly as if to make sure you'd let him. You don't stop him and you curse yourself for it as you turn around to make sure you have at least one eye on him, the door closing behind you.

You stare at each other for what feels like a century, until your eyes get so dry they itch and you have to look away after you've blinked the water back into your eyes. He gestures to the couch as if to ask you to sit down but you stubbornly stay standing, eyes narrowing slightly. He sighs, anxiety spiking even more, but he takes your hand and leads you to the sofa anyway. This time you do sit, but the shame builds in your chest as you do. He sits beside you, your legs pressed together and his spread apart. Your hands land in your lap but he reaches forward to grasp them in his own, soft from lotion with a few callusouses from working out. It surprises him that you don't pull away, so he lets himself take advantage of the moment to run his thumb gently over the back of your own hands before he begins speaking.

"I know I hurt you." he starts, peaking up through his lashes to gaze into your eyes. Even now, you can't help but to compare them to the sparkling stars in the sky, so bright and beautiful. He swallow harshly, but keeps going. "I should have considered things better, like how you would feel if the guy you like suddenly came onto you while he was drunk-"

Your ears are ringing. The butterflies in your stomach suddenly turn to bees, buzzing frantically and looking for a way out. You feel sick.

He knew?

"Hold on." you mutter, looking up at him through your lashes with an icy gaze that makes his breath hitch in his throat and his jaw snap shut, shuffling uncomfortably under the weight of your glare. It looked as if he was trying to look anywhere except at you. "You're telling me you knew about my feelings? And you still did it?"

You waited for confirmation or rebuttal, but got nothing except the awkward clearing of his throat and his grip tightening around your hands, though his chocolate eyes were looking right back at you now. You refused to think about the glittering stars you saw in them, the hope and dreams. Instead, you ripped your hands away from his grip and stood up quickly, shaking off his hand as it tried to catch your wrist while you walked toward the counter that separated your kitchen and sitting room. He looked on worriedly, shoulders hunched in on himself as he watched you through his thick lashes.

"You're telling me that you manipulated my feelings, then? What, did you hope that if you showed some interest, knowing I liked you, that I'd drop my panties straight away?" you sneered angrily, leaning against the counter and turning your head so you could see him out of the corner of your eye.

Were it any other time you might have laughed at the offense on his face when he heard what you said, but as it were you could hear the shuffle of clothing and then the squeak of his shoes as he approached, speaking quickly, "So that's what you think of me, baby? I swear it's-" he began, but was quickly cut off by your angry ranting as you whirled around, spearing him with your burning gaze.

"Don't you call me that, Son Hyunwoo. It's not like that, huh? Then tell me why that's exac-" but, this time, it was you being cut off. You jolted where you stood as he seemed to lose all patience, chest puffing as his voice rose above yours, a sharp 'let me speak!' carrying throughout the room. Somewhere in the back of your head you thought that he evidently hadn't had much to eat today, since that's why he is usually irritable, but you shoved that thought away for the time being.

As your eyes moved to the kitchen window you idly thought of how it was starting to get dark out, how the stars would be out soon, and a sharp pain bloomed in your chest as you immediately thought of his eyes, gentle chocolate irises that always seemed to glitter with the light of the stars in them. "Look at me when I'm taking to you." he snapped, walking forward to place his arms around you on the counter.

Irritated, you looked back at him and jabbed your finger into the center of his chest, scoffing at his tone and commands. "No, you don't get to tell me wh-"

You blinked. He had surged down when he heard you start talking, his lips forcefully pushed onto yours to shut you up, eyes squeezed shut tightly and a hand holding your wrist down on the counter that you'd used to jab at him when he'd snapped.

It took a moment, but you pushed the thoughts of allowing yourself to relax into the kiss away and instead wriggled your wrist as much as you could until you eventually managed to get out of his grip, now using both hands to beat and push against his chest as if you'd be able to force him off you. When that didn't work and his lips stayed glued to yours, his body still crowded into your personal space, you wrenched your head back with a gasp and shoved him as hard as you could, angry tears dripping down your cheeks.

"Son Hyunwoo, you bastard! Get away from me! Get off! Get-" but this time you were cut off by your own sob, your hurt having bubbled to the surface while you had been preoccupied with detaching your lips from his however you could. Miserable tears dribbled down your cheeks, your cheeks hot and eyes rapidly swelling. You beat harshly against his chest, the power behind each punch getting less and less until you were left leaning against his chest, your ear against his heart while you sobbed pathetically, hands slapping lightly with as much power as you had left in you. Your cries were frantic and loud, breaths coming in quick bursts before being cut off again by another few hiccups and coughs, or a sniffle. Your lack of air had begun to make you panic slightly too, but you were distracted by the feeling of Hyunwoo resting his chin on your head, pressing a light kiss to your crown while his arms came up to wrap around your smaller frame, caging you into a bear hug while his veiny hands ran up and down your spine, whispering gentle words of comfort into your hair.

He waited until you had calmed down slightly before he spoke again, eyes reopening from when they'd closed while you had been in his embrace. He lifted you onto the counter quickly, his hands sliding down to grasp your waist before he moved to stand in the space between your thighs, hands moving so he could gently wipe away your tears. It was silent for a moment then aside from your slowly calming sobs, the occasional hiccup, cough or sniffle too.

He stood almost completely still save for the slow rise and fall of his chest, thumbs delicately stroking your hips as your own arms rose to wipe away any fresh tears with your sleeve. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." he sighed, brushing damp stray hairs away from your face. "Look at me, Y/N. Please." he murmured, lifting your chin as you sniffle again, looking up at him through your damp eyelashes. "Aw, look at you, you're so precious." he chuckled, eyes running up and down your weak state. You huffed then, hands falling to land on your bare knees with a light slapping sound. "I don't know how you thought I did any of that just to get into your pants, Y/N, you oblivious little doll. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk through my garden forever."

He hummed, watching with a certain softness as you seemed to preen, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear while your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Oh how he wanted to lean down and take it between his in that moment, but he held back, blinking slowly as his hand came up to stroke his chin and jaw nervously. You watched him for a moment, eyes stinging and sight blurry from any remaining tears, and then finally spoke again, voice hoarse from crying so loudly for so long. "You mean that?" you asked, sniffling.

He chuckled, nodding as he pulled you closer to him by your hips, his tight green tee straining against his muscle with the movement of his shoulders. You smiled then, ruffling your hair as embarrassment crept up on you, heat flooding your face, neck and chest. He was half-tempted to aw at you but after quick consideration decided against it, not willing to risk the quiet peace the two of you had in that moment.

Instead, regarding you with a cautious gaze, he brought a hand up to hold against your cheek, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours while your noses brushed together gently, eyes falling closed by themselves as you stood, simply breathing each other in. A rumble sounded from his chest that sounded almost like a cat's purr and you smiled, leaning up slightly so that your lips nearly brushed, his hand stroking your cheek and the other wrapping around your waist while your arms came up to snake around the back of his neck.

"I love you, Y/N." he spoke, his voice quiet as if he was trying not to disturb the peaceful moment. You grinned, breath catching in your throat as euphoria flooded through you, as if the stars had personally graced you with their brilliant, bright light. "I love you too." you spoke, keeping your own voice down and your eyes closed gently, a jolt running up your spine as he nuzzled his nose against yours, moving so that his lips barely trailed across your cheekbones and your jaw before moving up to press a little kiss against each of your eyelids and then your forehead, and then finally, moved back down so that his lips were right in front of yours, but made no move to press them against yours. Instead, you heard a gentle hum as he pulled you even closer, your legs now able to wrap around his waist comfortably, and then finally, his soft, soothing voice carried through every part of your soul with one simple request, "Kiss me."

And you did.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, Hyunwoo listened with a soft smile as you told Hoseok about what happened, the other boy nodding along whenever he felt it necessary, eyes wide and lips open, completely absorbed in your story. His chest warmed as he heard what you said, placing the last dish on the drying rack for the night and reaching out for a towel.

"He touched me and it felt as if the stars were dancing across my skin."

#shownu #shownu x reader #hyunwoo x reader #kpop fanfiction #kpop #kpop imagines #monsta x #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x imagines #son hyunwoo x reader #changkyun #jooheon #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #wonho #shownu fanfiction #shownu imagines

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crimsonrae · 4 years ago

Text

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Seven

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Wounds of Self Defense

She moved strangely.

Geralt sipped quietly on his ale as he watched Lyrra flit about the tavern. Neither the barkeep nor the bard had been able to convince her to go home. Intent to return to some form of normalcy were the words he had heard tossed about while he slipped into a deserted corner, his intent was only to observe. Besides the few moments she had spent tending his wound and assuring him that she held no ill-will toward him, Geralt didn't know her. He hadn't the time to become acquainted with her personally, he barely had time to form a first impression. Yet, in that short time, she hadn't struck him as rash, but she also hadn't struck him as violent either. Her sword and the death of her attacker reneged those impressions. A woman who could take down two of the three men who attacked her would not be one to wallow either. He supposed her resolve to return to normalcy was admirable, he had yet to determine if it was also foolish.

He hadn't missed the tense set to her shoulders anytime a new customer walked into the tavern or the way she held herself just out of reach as she spoke with others. Despite her resolve, the incident had affected her. All of this he expected, especially after he had listened to the whispered details the local townsfolk were scattering as they drank and observed Lyrra themselves. The prying gossip reminded him of one of the many reasons he was glad to travel as much as he did. Even still, what he hadn't expected was the way she moved. She was smooth, silent.

Not in the way he had seen fine ladies of court raised to walk, though a touch of that was certainly there too. No, there was something about it that tugged at his memory. Lyrra, all but seemed to fade into the background. Her frock and headscarf removed her from close scrutiny from strange new faces – she was just another barmaid. She weaved through the crowd effortlessly. Her tray never wavered and she never stumbled or bumped into another person. It was like watching a dancer to a show that no one else seemed to be aware was occurring. She was a ghost gliding past, to, and through. It bothered him because Geralt knew he had seen movement like this before, he just couldn't place where.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Lyrra appeared at his table, seemingly from nowhere as she cocked an expectant brow at him, "What would you like to eat? Cook has some stew that's fairly good and she also has a few chickens that are roasting in the spit."

Geralt shook his head, "I'm not hungry."

It was true. He hadn't had much of an appetite since waking and he was still trying to throw off the claws of fatigue. Not even his tonics had proven of much use beyond removing the smarting pain in his neck and back.

Lyrra tilted her head almost curiously, before nodding as if she had received an answer to some unspoken question, "You need to eat."

Geralt merely sent her an impassive stare as he uttered, "I had an apple."

"Today?" Lyrra questioned dubiously when he didn't answer she snorted quietly and smiled, "I'll get you the stew."

She was gone before he could voice a word of protest. He just barely caught her slim form disappearing into the kitchen. Sighing quietly under his breath, he turned back to the crowd that had gathered in the Rose and Pine in time to catch the bard's attention on the kitchen as well. This was another oddity he had noticed. Jaskier's sudden hyper-awareness. Aside from a few minutes when the younger man had left to get his lute, his attention had been firmly held by their brunette hostess all night. He tracked her movements as he played and sang, his body almost always angled in her direction and any time she disappeared from sight it was like watching a hound dog's ears suddenly prick up. Jaskier wouldn't relax until she was back in the main room. Geralt wasn't even sure that Jaskier was aware he was doing it.

As if to prove his point, Lyrra returned with a small bowl of stew and Geralt could practically see the tension leak from the bard as he belted out the next line of some raunchy limerick. He wanted to roll his eyes, instead, he watched curiously as Lyrra slid onto the bench across from him, "Going to feed it to me too?"

A dimly amused glint entered her eyes at his barb, "Only if you ask nicely..."

When he continued to stare pointedly, she sighed, "Apologies if my company offends you. I need a break and there are quite a few people in this room who would protest if I took it outside, I wager."

It helped that the only moderately peaceful area in the tavern was in his little corner. No one dared bothered the witcher, except her. She had checked on him a few times already, eyeing his face and wound carefully each time. He could practically feel the disapproval radiating from her.

He smirked, "And this gave you the chance to play nursemaid again."

Lyrra rolled her eyes, "If you want to starve, starve."

He was tempted to let the bowl sit, but some distant part of him, the part that never let things like food go to waste lifted the spoon and took a small bite. She was right it wasn't half bad, even if the thought of swallowing more made him pause, "Do you always watch people eat?"

"No." Lyrra smirked, "Just the ones who end up in my bed."

Geralt quirked a brow at the teasing comment, "And here I thought that was the bard."

A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she sent a thoughtful glance to the man in question, "Jaskier is... sweet." The bard caught her gaze as he started his next song and winked at her. Her blush darkened, "And incorrigible."

Geralt felt his lips twitch in silent agreement as he watched the interplay between the couple. She shook her head as she turned back, "There was a time when I dreaded meeting him, you know?"

"Wouldn't have guessed by the way you ran out of your home." Geralt murmured dryly, "Afraid your betrothed wouldn't be a handsome prince?"

"Oh, I knew he wouldn't be a prince." Lyrra returned drolly as she met his stare head-on, "It's just been my experience that those of an... elevated status are entitled, cruelly so. I was expecting cruelty, but he's not. He's rather kind."

In truth, it was hard to remember that either one of them was of noble birth. They moved about the lower masses as if it had been their place all along. He had only seen Jaskier perform in court once and while his performance had the usual jaunty foolishness there had been a tension that Geralt had attributed to the potential threat of cuckolded husbands. He wouldn't have pegged Lyrra for royalty any more than he had Jaskier.

No more princess.

Renfri's voice echoed through his thoughts as Geralt remained silent. Her story had been born of cruelty, as well. It seemed to be the fate of the Creyden Princesses he was beginning to gather. He took a long draw from his tankard as he studied her, "Where did you go after Blaviken?"

Where Renfri had been forthcoming, her sister was more guarded Geralt found as she flashed him a benign smile and shrugged, "Lived on the streets, gradually made my way south and well, here we are."

"Here we are." He murmured softly. A pensive crease furrowed his brow as he recalled, "You said she knew she was going to die."

Lyrra's smile turned sympathetic. Much of what her mother and Stregobor had spewed about her sister had been pure shit, but the old mage had gotten one thing correct. Renfri was special. She would know things that should have been impossible, "She knew it the moment she saw you. She had dreamt of her death for years. The white wolf with the sad eyes... She was right, your eyes are sad."

Geralt's mouth tightened uncomfortably, "She shouldn't have gone to the market."

"You mean, she shouldn't have sought revenge." Lyrra corrected lowly as she swooped his ale from his grasp and took a swig. It was subtle attempt to get him to eat more, "Loud and brash, that was my sister. Like a raging storm."

"Do you not also want vengeance?" He asked quietly, curiously.

There was a long moment as she contemplated his question. A hardness flashed across her grey eyes that he had only seen when he asked of Aridea before it drifted into something sadder. She smiled ruefully at him, "Sometimes. I think it's normal to want pain for the ones that hurt us. Sometimes, I think those people aren't even worth the effort."

He frowned, noting that she hadn't exactly answered him and unsure of what to make of their conversation. Instead, he chose to alight on a more pressing topic, "And the man that attacked you last night and got away? Is he worth the effort?"

She tensed faintly as if she had forgotten the events of the prior night entirely, "The man who attacked me is a coward. He brought friends to help subdue me and when they were in trouble he ran. He, alone, is hardly worth consideration."

Interesting.

Geralt tilted his head, "You don't think he'll come back."

Lyrra shook her head, "Not alone, he'd bring more men with him if he did."

The witcher couldn't find fault in her logic. His thoughts had run a similar path as the events of her attack became more clear to him. Yet, the man had been foolhardy enough to try once, there was nothing that said he wouldn't try again, "Your sword -"

"Haven't used that thing in years." Lyrra cut him off duly amused, "More liable to hurt myself with it than anyone else."

"You fought off two men. I doubt you're that out of practice." Geralt pointed out as he took back his ale.

"I was very lucky last night." Lyrra sighed at the reminder and looked away almost ashamedly, "I panicked, things could've gone very differently."

He nodded in agreement; glad she could see her own pitfalls. It would make things easier for him, "We'll change that."

Lyrra raised a brow nonplussed, "We will?"

"We will." Geralt promised soundly as he finished off his drink, silently entertained at the bewildered stare he was receiving. He had made the decision to teach her a few defense skills almost as soon as the bard had uttered the news of the third man being free. He hadn't needed Jaskier reminding him that he should repay her kindness, not when he was well aware of all that he had already taken from her.

Lyrra was not nearly as amused as she stared pointedly at his shoulder, "And how do you propose to do that wounded?"

His mouth thinned as he grunted, "I'm fine."

Her lips parted in protest, but another voice beat her to it, "We really should get you a looking glass if you think you look fine."

Both Lyrra and Geralt looked up to see Jaskier approaching with two chalices in hand, neither had heard his performance end. He slid one in front of Lyrra as he straddled the bench, she was sitting on, "What have I missed? - You going to eat that?"

He was already reaching for the bowl before Geralt could answer when Lyrra pulled his hand back, "He needs to eat."

Jaskier blinked guilelessly at her, "He had an apple."

There was a long moment as they stared at each other before Lyrra shook her head in exasperation, "There's something wrong with both of you."

She moved to stand, Geralt assumed to get the bard a bowl of stew as well, when Jaskier quickly latched onto her wrist, "Stay. Stay. I can get my own food."

Lyrra stared down at his hand with a frown. It took Geralt a minute to realize why as he noted the loose wrapping. If it were possible Jaskier's hand looked more swollen than it had earlier. The bandage did little to hide the bruising now. With careful movements, she bade him keep still as she unwrapped his hand for a better look. Luckily, Geralt didn't see any sign of infection on the broken knuckles. The bard had done well in keeping it cleaned.

Even still their hostess sighed wearily, a hint of guilt touching her eyes as she gently brushed over the skin. Jaskier flinched at the small contact, "You need to stop using it so much."

"Yes, well why do you think I stopped playing." Jaskier grumbled as he attempted to wrap his hand back up.

Lyrra merely hummed and took the ribbon cloth from him as she re-tied it. He had been joking when he had called her a nursemaid earlier, but Geralt was finding the description more than appropriate as she fussed. Biting back a sigh himself, he pushed his bowl over to the bard. He wasn't going to eat it anyway. Jaskier flashed a triumphant grin at him as he dug in.

"So, what had you two looking so serious?" Jaskier asked around a mouth full of food. Lyrra pulled a face at his lack of manners making the bard smirk as he waited for an answer.

Geralt shook his head at their antics, he suddenly felt like the only adult sitting at the table. Lyrra sipped at her wine as she replied, "How Geralt thinks he's going to teach me how to fight."

Jaskier stilled midbite with an expression of pure befuddlement, "Wha-"

"Not fight, just defense." Geralt corrected taking Jaskier's wine. He would have preferred ale.

The bard didn't even protest the theft as his eyes darted between his tablemates, "What?"

Geralt rolled his eyes.

"I have a defense. It's called running." Lyrra murmured dryly and Jaskier smirked in agreement, "Even if I were willing to go along with this rather moronic idea, I still don't understand how you're going to do that when you're still recovering."

He merely smiled darkly in answer.

»»————-　　————-««

Lyrra sighed wearily as she watched the morning sunrise from outside her cottage and wondered how she had been talked into this. She had donned an old pair of breeches and a loose shirt as she waited for Geralt. The witcher had been intent on his plan she had found when she had been wrested awake only hours after falling asleep. If he had wanted to give her an incentive to hurt him, he had gotten off to a very good start.

Even Jaskier was still asleep.

She yawned tiredly as a hand fell on her shoulder. She didn't jump, merely sent a baleful stare toward her tormentor. Geralt bit back a smile at the look as he handed her sword to her. Lyrra frowned as she looked it over. The dust had been cleared, the blade oiled, and it appeared more lethally sharp than when she had originally obtained the weapon.

Lyrra was tempted to tell him that she already knew defense techniques. No one spent ten years on the streets without picking up some sort of fighting style. She could fight when she needed to, but there were... there were times when a certain movement or touch would shut off her common sense and she suddenly found herself struggling to even throw a punch. Those were problems that she didn't know how to overcome. As she looked over her sword, she thought of her sister – this was her weapon of choice. One that Lyrra had never been fully comfortable handling.

She raised a brow at the witcher, "I wasn't lying when I said I haven't handled this thing in a while."

"I know." Geralt replied as he moved a few paces in front of her. He stiffened his stance and met her annoyed stare with an expectant one, "Come at me."

Lyrra scoffed, "I thought the point of this was to teach me defense."

"It is. Come at me." He ordered lowly.

"This is a phenomenally stupid idea." She muttered, not any more inclined to move. As irritated as she was by this whole affair, she wasn't about to attack someone whom she knew to be wounded. Geralt hadn't looked any better in the morning light. His pallor was horribly stark against his dark clothing. She dared to think he looked better in the dim light of the tavern.

Geralt titled his head and frowned at her, "You won't hurt me. Now come at me."

Almost petulantly she muttered, "You're already hurt."

"Lyrra."

She blinked at hearing her name. She was sure that it was the first time he had ever said it. He raised a brow at her, he wasn't going to tell her again. She huffed quietly, knowing that he wouldn't give up. Stubbornness shined in his golden eyes and she had long learned when to pick her battles. She crouched down and picked up some dirt to rub in her suddenly sweaty palms. Geralt watched her with approving eyes as she stood again and found her grip on the hilt of the sword.

Firm, not overly tight, she reminded herself.

She drew a calming breath and then advanced.

She kept the sword tip angled out and down. A swing would cost her too much momentum and she had the feeling that Geralt was expecting it. Instead, she thrust for his inner thigh and was soundly knocked back on her ass.

She didn't even have time to squawk in surprise as she blinked dazedly up. By the Gods, he was fast.

"Not a bad start." Geralt rumbled as he crouched next to her with an offered hand, "Still think you're going to hurt me."

Lyrra snorted as she gripped his palm, "I was never under the impression that I could. I'm more concerned that you'll hurt yourself."

He pulled her up with nary a grunt as he eyed her speculatively, "Again."

Lyrra rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She advanced in the same manner, but this time she feinted to the left as she swiped the sword for his right. He dodged gracefully and quickly twisted to grasp her wrist and knock the sword to the ground. Her back connected with his chest and she felt the small flinch up his arm. She was right, he was going to end up hurting himself.

Geralt didn't let her go right away and when she glanced at him over her shoulder, he was glaring at her, "What?"

"You're holding back." He growled.

She found herself imitating Jaskier, "What?"

He hummed lowly and let her go. She watched curiously as he stalked back to the cottage and then she noticed his sword leaning in the threshold. A small tendril of dread began to curl in her stomach.

He picked it up and didn't even take a breath before he was on her. Her eyes widened and Lyrra barely suppressed a gasped as she dodged a slash to her stomach. He swung again, faster this time. Her eyes darted warily to his shoulders as she ducked under his swings. He remained impassive through and she knew he was going easy on her. She was both annoyed and relieved by that notion as her muscle memory began to kick in and she met one of his thrusts. Their swords clanged. A tremor went through her arm at the force and she grunted in discomfort before she twisted away. Her hand skimmed the edge of her boot and she itched to grab the dagger within, more comfortable with the smaller weapon, but she resisted and barely moved out from another attack.

Geralt didn't let up and she began to panic. In a desperate bid to slow him, she kicked up some dirt to his eyes and dodged another swing. He turned in time to see her sword coming for his throat and ducked. He had her disarmed and on her back a second later.

He peered down the length of his sword at her with a frown, "You're right. You panic."

Lyrra gulped for air, it had been a long time since she had to move that fast, "Are we done now?"

Geralt snorted and helped her back to her feet. He studied her curiously for a second before bending back down and slipping his hand inside her boot. She nearly kicked out at him until she realized he was grabbing her dagger, "Why didn't you use it?"

She shrugged uneasily, "Any time I pull a dagger out, it tends to go into someone. Sometimes, me."

Geralt lifted a brow and held the hilt out to her, "Show me."

Lyrra frowned unhappily but took the dagger from him. He placed their swords to the side and gestured for her to attack. She didn't advance the way she had with a sword. She tilted the blade down with the edge out and didn't move so much toward him as she did pass him. She made a horizontal slash for his side and he dodged easily and moved to grab her elbow, but she moved faster. He backed up as she pushed forward. It became a dance and Lyrra was fairly sure he was just humoring her. She should have been knocked down ages ago.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Geralt latched onto her wrist as she swiped up and twisted. She winced but reacted unconsciously by slamming her foot into his ankle and yanking down. He grunted, but his grip remained firm as the dagger fell from her fingers.

Sweat coated her brow as she stared expectantly at him. Geralt nodded approvingly as he let her go, "Better."

"You could have done that sooner." She grumbled rubbing her wrist.

"You could have pulled it out sooner." Geralt countered as he watched her. To her annoyance, he barely looked rumpled. He crossed his arms and lifted a brow, "Show me what happened the other night."

Lyrra froze and turned disbelieving eyes on him. She hadn't wanted to speak of her attack, much less reenact it. Already she felt her veins start to chill as she remembered the weight against her back. The witcher tilted his head and she felt like he was seeing right through her. He took a careful step back as he said almost gently, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lyrra."

Even as he spoke, she felt her heart in her throat. A tightness was starting to choke her voice again. She clenched her jaw in frustration and closed her eyes as she turned her back on him. When she opened them again, she spotted Jaskier leaning warily in the doorjamb of her cottage. She wondered distantly how long he had been watching.

She kept her gaze locked on him as she started in a rough rasp, "I was leaning against the wall in the alley when he called out to me. He was a trader form a few nights prior. He wanted me to service him and I had told him where to find the brothel. He had a friend with him – I started to edge back to the kitchen when he blocked off the end of the alley. I didn't know that he had another friend until I backed into him."

She took a step back and heard the swish of air as Geralt came to meet her. She did a horrible job of hiding her flinch but continued to describe halting what had happened. Geralt shoved her dagger back into her hand as she described how she kept it in her apron. Slowly, painfully they went over everything step by step. Until they reached the point where her third attacker came into play. Geralt raised his hand to press into her shoulders and she froze. Her words faltering as she felt her breath start to come in short gasps.

Cold fingers touching, probing.

"Lyrra."

Her skin crawled.

"Stop."

A deep voice growled in her ear and she snapped back to the present. Geralt stood to her side as he eyed her carefully. Jaskier was halfway to her, concern written across his expression as she grappled for control of herself, but Geralt held up a hand to stop him.

Then so quietly she almost didn't hear him, even though his knowing tone didn't escape her notice, "Is it me being behind you or is it the touch against your back?"

She swallowed tightly as she met his apologetic gaze. A weary sigh escaped her, he knew – not that it was hard to figure out, she whispered back, "Back. He used to hold me down with his hand between my shoulders."

Geralt nodded and let his hand drop, "We'll break. I need to think."

Jaskier moved forward tentatively as he looked worriedly between the two of them. He almost seemed to be silently asking if it were okay to approach and Lyrra smiled faintly at him, "I'm okay."

"That's debatable. You're the same color as his hair." The bard muttered glibly and as he got closer, he lifted a brow, "And you smell like Roach."

"Rude." She smacked his arm as she smiled unwillingly. The act seemed to do more to reassure him than her words had as he smiled back, "How's your hand?"

"Still attached." Jaskier shrugged and held it up for her to see, despite his attempt at levity there was still an air of concern around him. His good hand trailed a path down her arm towards her hand, "You didn't want to do this...Maybe you two should stop. Say the word."

Her smile turned soft as she squeezed his fingers, already she feeling her anxiety easing, "Just a hiccup, don't worry."

He sighed uncertainly but nodded before a more devilish grin began to pull at his lips, "Well, can't say I don't enjoy this little number, you're wearing. Who knew trousers could be so sexy?"

Lyrra choked on a laugh at the unexpected comment as she felt a blush heating her cheeks, "You're ridiculous."

His azure eyes danced merrily at her, "Now that's better. Flushed and sweaty, very tempting."

"Jaskier..." She admonished amusedly, even as she felt her blush deepen.

He chuckled quietly as he continued to tease, drawing soft laughs and light conversation until he was certain whatever dark place she had gone to was locked firmly back in the shadows. She knew what he was doing and was appreciative of his efforts even if she didn't say as much.

Neither noticed the way Geralt was watching them pensively, an idea beginning to take shape.

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#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #jaskier #jaskier x oc #jaskier fanfiction #Geralt #yennefer #fanfic #fanfiction

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definealetheia · 5 years ago

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Note to self when I feel like I'm going insane (unfinished)

STOP OVERTHINKING!

Sit back, relax, and take deep breaths.

Listen to chakra tune up meditation music. Unblock your chakras and let the energy flow through your body.

Don't intentionally block your heart chakra. Stop suppressing your feelings, whether it is good or bad. You have to deal with them and heal your wounds. The more you suppress your feelings, the longer your agony will get.

Do you still have doubts about the connection?

Remember that you have already let go of the label Twin Flame. The question whether he is your Divine Masculine or not is not important anymore. The Universe may or may not give you the answer after all. BUT you can honor what you feel is true. You love him. This is your truth. You don't need the Universe to tell you that.

It is okay to doubt the connection sometimes. It is normal to experience doubts and fears in this journey. It is scary and full of uncertainties.

I don't get why other twins refer to someone they meet as "catalyst" who will activate your awakening and you believed as your twin but ended up as otherwise. Same logic goes for false twin. I don't get it. I don't think there is a false twin or a catalyst. That person is either your twin or not. Why would you need a catalyst to activate you? Your twin can do that himself. It doesn't make sense to me. People who started their spiritual journey even before they met their twin were awakened due to several possible reasons. May be because of traumatic experiences or they come from a spiritual background. As for those who were not awakened until they met their twin, I don't understand why the person who activated them ends up only as a catalyst. What for? You will only recognize that person as a catalyst once you meet your true twin. And then it would be like you're restarting your twin flame journey with your true twin! Wth.

Remember the reasons and synchonicities that lead you to believe he is your twin.

He activated my spiritual awakening.

It was August 29, 2018. I met my twin online right after I graduated from grad school. I finished another milestone in my life. I finished a job contact and ready to start a new life. I was optimistic about the future. I've been single for years and thought it would be nice a start a new one. But I didn't want to start a relationship just for the heck of it. I wanted to find the one. I've been saying this to the Universe for a quite some time. I might have manifested it when I met your twin without knowing it.

I've been suffering from MDD and GAD for years. I was in medication and went in and out of hospitals after every suicide attempt. For a long time I was suffering from an existential crisis. I did not know who I am or why I am alive. I did not have dreams of my own and was just living to fulfill the expectations of my family and society. I did not have any goals nor did I have reasons or motivations to pursue anything except meeting others' expectations of me. I needed to finish school and establish a good career, help my parents, and then have my own family. As good as those things were, I did not have the right motivation to do that.

I have always felt I don't belong anywhere. I was bullied in school and even at work. It made my depression even worse. Everywhere I go, terrible things always end up happening. I always felt uncomfortable, unsafe, and being wronged by people. I felt unlucky and miserable all the time. Everytime I try to turn my life around and gain a little hope, terrible things happen and that little hope I had get taken away from me.

I was never religious nor spiritual. Having a master's degree in Philosophy, I have an extensive experience on critical thinking and being skeptical. I don't label myself as agnostic. In fact, when it comes to my spirituality, I refrained from associating myself from any religious group or any spiritual belief. However, during one Philosophy class where we talked about religion where some of my classmates studied in Catholic seminaries, I remember sharing that I don't believe in (Christian conception) God but I do believe that there is someone or something, maybe it be metaphysical, divine, or a force that governs everything in the Universe.

I have always had the affinity to look at the sunset and the night sky. I has been part of my routine. My childhood dream was to became an astronaut or astronomer. But life happened. Part of my routine was talking to the Universe while watching the night sky. Whenever I feel suicidal I always tell them that I don't belong down here. I want to be among the stars. That's where I feel I belong, not here. I talk to the stars as often as I can. They saw me cry and all. They let me know they are listening by showing me shooting stars. I even saw asteroid Juno and other comets during one of my nightly routine. It always feels magical when they show me how beautiful the Universe is.

Recognizing the soul connection

I have been interested in Japanese culture and martial arts. I've been practicing a japanese sword martial arts since January 2017. Since I wanted to learn the language, I installed a language exchange application on my phone and that's where I met him. To be honest, I was open to the thought of possibly meeting someone online but I did not realize that I would actually meet someone like him. I met men who were more interested in flirting with me than learning another language. That's very common online. But I was not interested in them but when I met my twin, I did not know that from then on, my life will turn bat shit crazy. I was just following ramdom people on the app but I also made sure they did not look sketchy or suspicious. He followed me back. He suddenly commented on a picture I posted of me and my cat and then he sent me a private message. My first impression of him is he was very flirty and straithforward with giving compliments, unlike most Japanese I talked to who were polite and unsure of themselves. When I looked at his picture, I immediately felt something different about him especially when I looked at his eyes. But I couldn't put my finger on it. I never felt anything like it before. I felt like I knew him. There was a sense of familiarity and comfortabilitily. We started talking on Line, sent audio messages, and even talked on video call for hours. He send messages when he wakes up, goes to work, while working, coming home, and before sleeping. It like was a honeymoon phase of a relationship. I told myself it was too good to be true.

I needed to know more about him so I asked him if he was single. He wasn't. I felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown at me. He was still flirty and acting like there's more to us than acquaintances. But because of that reality check, I kept asking myself where I stand. Sometimes he treats me like a girlfriend all then all of a sudden he acts like a stranger. When the conversation gets hot and he becomes more flirty than normal that's where I remind him that he has a gf and I don't want to be in a third party. He told me they haven't talked for a while and he felt lost. I felt worse. I felt like he was just bored and wants to use me to fill in the void. Since I knew I was falling inlove, I made it clear to him that if he wants to continue talking to me like we are in a relationship, then I want to be only one. There should be no other woman. He couldn't give me an answer. He always dodged the question to the point that I get frustrated and just drop it. Add the language barrier to the mix. During one of our arguments, I kept asking him how he really felt about me and his answer was that he wanted to meet. I did not expect that answer. Even if I agreed to that, I reminded him that he has gf and he just told me they hadn't talked.

When he came back to Japan from one of work trips, that's when things went downhill. He used to give me updates on where he was or what he doings but that time I did tell me he already came back. His messages became short. Sometimes just one word. It's obvious he didn't want to be bothered or he just didn't want to talk to me. There were even sarcastic messages. It was my cue to leave him be.

We stared with talking to each other all day everyday until it became more and more seldom. There were days when he wouldn't talk. Then a sudden message after days of silence. I did not chase him or beg him to talk to me. But I once told him how I sad was that he changed. I was crying a lot. My heart got broken so many times. October 2018 came and after over a month of the honeymoon phase, he finally ghosted me.

Kundalini awakening and rising

I became more and more depressed and desperate for answers. I kept asking the Universe: Why did this happen? What was the point? I closed myself off for years and stopped dating after experiencing traumatic relationships. Right when I finally decided to take a risk, open my heart, and love again, this happened to me? I did not understand the point of it all. Letting another person in and then he just breaks my heart? This was the last chance I gave myself to love and this shit happened. Before I met him, I told myself that if I ever meet someone and fall in love, it will be the last time. I want to me the one. I am tired of being hurt so many times.

I was so confused. I was hurt, angry, and frustrated. Wanting to find the answers, I started watching tarot readings on Youtube. I never believed in Astrology. I was too skeptical for that. But I watched hundreds of readings out of desperation to find the answers. I got mixed result on the readings. There were times that the readings resonated so much that my mind was blown so many times. But there were others that just made me more confused and paranoid. The best takeaway from those readings is that divine timing is at work. I have to trust in the Universe and give them space to work things out. I can't force things to happen. The only thing I can do is set healthy boundaries and don't let anyone treat me like a doormat.

I spent the next few weeks just watching readings, crying at night, and trying to cope with the pain. The readings said that there will be communication and it did happen. By the time happened, I literally said "this shit is real." I was surprised that he messaged me and asked how I was. But after the inital shock, I was overcome by anger and hurt. He wanted communication just when I was starting to gain balance and not think of him that much. I was torn between telling him off and just accept that he is back. I replied 2-3 days later telling him I'm doing good.

The communication started again but I was seldom. He called me on 11/11 but I couldn't answer. He just randomly sends a message after a few days of silence and or calls all of a sudden and then disappear again. So flakey! I got fed up and set my foot down. I asked him why he wants call or talk to me. He said he always wanted to call and enjoys being with me. I called out his BS. I reminded him that he stopped talking to me. He can't just come in and out of life as he pleases. He should stop playing mind games with me. He just said to me "Oh don't say that 😭." I told him I deserve an explanation and tell me why he disappeared. He said he did not disappear. I told him it hurts me that he's not being honest with me. He said he was being honest. See the pattern here? I asked him again what happened and he just answered "I don't remember." That was it. I told him I'm a very patient person (I'm a fucking Taurus okay) but he pushed me too far. I won't ask anymore. It's obvious he didn't wanna answer. I'm done.

I was livid. I'm done dealing with a player and emotionally unvailable jackass. That's the start of our separation. It was 11/12.

I spent the rest of November dealing with rollercoaster of emotions. One moment I'm angry, and them I'm in pain, and then lonely ect. It was a torture. There were times when I went into relapse. I thought I have officially gone insane. I just wanted to die.

The first time I came across the term twin flame was through watching tarot readings. I never heard of the time before even when I met my twin. I wasn't interested in learning more about it at first. All I know was that it was different from soulmates and it was rare. I have never thought of myself as special (just different) so I did not think I needed to know about it. But curiosity got the better of me and finally decided to do some research. Lo and behold, I resonated with most of the signs that were listed. The things that happened to me made more sense now. But that was not enough to convince me.

More and more meditation music started appearing on my youtube suggestions. It was December when I finally decided to try a guided meditation. It's my first entry. I felt the urge to do it more and more often until I came across a meditation to awaken my spirit. Before this entire journey I would never think of trying it but since I have been activated, might as well continue on improving myself. I played the music when looking at the sunset. When I came to opening the third eye, I started seeing particles in mid air. They look specks of light or little transparent bubbles floating around. As weeks went by I seem them clearer. I don't even have to concentrate or be in meditative state to see them. I see another invisible layer in my environment as well. I see rain or drizzle even if it's not really raining. I also see "rain" and particles even indoors now. As long as there is light. I tune up my chakra almost everyday. I don't feel right when I don't meditate in a few days.

10/13/2019 ~ 2:41 PM (this has been saved in my Drafts since Jan/Feb -- I'm not sure anymore)

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donnerpartyofone · 4 years ago

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Being on the internet is so weird. Like I'm a fairly antisocial person who conserves her energy for a very short list of people who I decide are worth continuing to know; I'm easily annoyed, and I really only have the patience for people when I'm truly inspired by them in some way. I'm very happy to block irritating strangers online with little to no provocation. But if I *vaguely* know you and you've found me on social media, it creates this whole extra layer of trying to figure out how much kindness and courtesy I owe you, and how subtle I need to be in getting rid of you, if it seems at all possible--resulting in me giving you more mental energy than a lot of my actual FRIENDS get.

There's this guy I knew a little bit about 15 years ago, kind of a gentle, eccentric hippie rabbi a few years older than me, who was a customer at the comic shop where I worked. We used to have fairly friendly conversations, although he had an off-putting habit of responding to really basic statements by saying "Hmmmmmmm innnnnteresting" in this tone of voice that suggested that whatever I just said was actually ridiculous, but at least amusingly novel. That was pretty much the reason I never considered us friends; it's tiresome to be around people who are unconvinced by everything you say (and don't offer provocative arguments). But, he was never rude to my face, and I was much friendlier and more easily intimidated back then. I forget, but I'm pretty sure I must have grabbed a bite to eat with him and his wife one night after work; it's the only explanation I have for why, over the course of several years, after he stopped coming and I stopped working there, I would intermittently get texts from him inviting me to a party or something. I never responded to a single one. That was my way of communicating, "Sorry, we're just not that close. You will never get anything out of using my phone number." At one point he also sent me some email saying that he'd found my blog and enjoyed seeing how I'd grown up or something, and I didn't really like the sound of that either; we were both in our mid-20s when we knew each other, and I didn't really think it was appropriate for him to randomly give me some kind of paternalistic performance review. So, he pretty much wound up on my no-fly list.

Now, flashing forward a million years, he's found me on Twitter--a platform I almost NEVER use, which I got sucked back into by the stupid election. For now I'm still there a little bit, having found 4 or 5 acquaintances there who I enjoy, who aren't on anything I use more. But this guy turns up like once a month or so, and ONLY interacts with my tweets to be a dick. I have no idea what his problem is: if his conscious thought is that this is cool and he just doesn't realize how unfunny he is (a common problem), or if he's just trolling, or if he's being deliberately, openly aggressive. I post this glib just-for-laffs comment about Tricky being the goth version of Seal, and I get this annoying response about how Tricky is "rave music" and cannot be goth. (This is not only untrue, but worse, unfunny; a better refutation would be that Seal is already the goth version of Seal) I rage-post something about how sick I am of watching men's huge theatrical displays of gawking at women on the street--behavior designed to get attention and intimidate the target--and how it makes me want to carry rocks around to interrupt anyone I see doing it...and I get this whole facetious response about how "stoning" men for "gazing" will "totally" stop it from happening, ha ha ha. (Pro tip: don't tell women how to feel about the fact that they can't even walk down their own fucking street without strange males putting out the message of "You're giving me an erection and you cannot hide from my sight and I'm forcing you to be aware of it") Then today I have this horrible episode of an ongoing problem I have with losing things, that directly relates to my mental illness and self-esteem problems, so I vent by tweeting a condensed version of the post above, that I'm currently reblogging. It's one of the only things I can do to like, get it out of my system, without punching walls or hurting myself or something. And for some reason this guy shows up just to correct me that I have an "and/or!" situation, not an "either/or" situation. Not only is it like, absolutely beyond his ken whether he is at all correct, but it's like...he didn't show up to "like" my tweet about my wedding anniversary last week. (Which I almost ruined because I lost something I had to search for, btw) He never shows up to enjoy a joke WITH me, or respond to something interesting I posted. He never draws attention to anything he thinks I'll like, or says anything in solidarity with whatever. The only time he ever makes me aware of himself, is when he finds opportunities to coyly suggest that I'm stupid.

The effect is that I'm sitting here yet again thinking, What the fuck is this guy's problem? If he were a complete stranger I would have blocked him a long time ago. But, because I kinda-sorta know him from a civil, real-life context, I find myself burning all this energy to suppress my reactions, tolerate his bullshit, and analyze what I think is going on here just in case I'm being unfair.

One thought I have is, maybe he's too unsocialized to understand that he's being a dick; there's plenty of people out there who just don't have the grace or self-awareness to recognize how annoying they are. This can take on a whole other dimension when you're female, and you seem intelligent/comfortable in your own skin/like you're not dependent on public approval. I've been in plenty of social situations where some dude is like, engaging with what I'm saying, but constantly correcting me or something, and I can tell they just have this itch at the base of their brain that makes them do that. I don't think they go home and chant "girls suck" while throwing darts at porno mag centerfolds or anything, but I think they have a deeply ingrained discomfort with women who seem independent/intellectually challenging/etc. They're nice to girls who seem kinda fun and dumb, but with those who can carry a conversation, they have a more or less automatic, subconscious adversarial response.

Another possibility is that he's trolling me. He senses that I'm too polite to tell him to go fuck himself, but is consciously aware that everything he says to me is unpleasant--just not quite enough for me to justify picking a fight with him, without making myself look nuts. In that case, he probably thinks this is all in good fun. Maybe he even thinks I think it's fun. It's not like he's trying to get me to kill myself or something, and I've known plenty of dudes who appear to have mistaken childish pestering for intellectual sparring, or something. My question is like, how did his attitude go from "My friend from the comic shop who I act more or less normal around", to "Person I need to passive-aggressively belittle on the internet without ever being genuinely nice even by accident"? Is it literally because I never responded to any of his party invitations or whatever? That seems kind of insane, and I never imagined that my behavior could have been important enough to him to make him decide to harass me...but what the fuck do I know! Also, sometimes people just automatically turn into trolls when they're online--especially on Twitter. I've known decent enough folks who seem to bring this really shitty, mean, arrogant attitude ONLY to Twitter, like they just can't help it when they're on there for some reason.

But at that, maybe he's not being passive-aggressive. Maybe he's actually being intentionally caustic and insulting, and I'm literally supposed to think, "Wow, _______ actually hates me, and he's showing me how stupid and worthless I am at every turn. I'm so ashamed and embarrassed, I simply cannot compete with his superior mind, guess I better just pee my pants." I mean none of his insults are quite big enough or articulate enough for me to feel sure that that's what's intended. But I can't tell if that's a matter of engineered subtlety, or if he's just not good enough at whatever he's trying to accomplish. I just can't promise myself that I understand him AT ALL, but he's unpleasant with such unwavering consistency that I have to consider open hostility a possibility, even if it seems kind of dumb and muddled.

So tonight I finally blocked him. I'd like to think he won't even notice, but he only follows like 200 people, so that might be too much to hope for. I was literally just telling someone about how I wished I had it in me to block people I actually know more readily, because every time Repeat Offender X is a complete cock again in a way that I can tell they think is within the limits of friendly jousting, I regret that I didn't block them the LAST time it happened. But because I am who I am, it bothers me to think that my Twitter acquaintance's behavior is subconscious enough that he'll feel hurt and confused by my blocking him. I'd really hate it if he tried to get in touch with me about it somehow (he's blocked on here, too, which I consider less risky). It wouldn't bother me at all if he considered being blocked a victory, because I don't subscribe to that idiotic idea that you've "won" something when your behavior convinces someone that you're stupid and annoying and not worth hearing from. But like I just have no idea what the fuck is wrong with this guy, and thinking about the right way to treat him really underlines the fact that even in my extremely restricted and protected social life, I still know way too many people.

Another dawn, another day of choosing to EITHER live my life on pins and needles, making a painfully conscious, paranoid process out of every single thing I do so that nothing is ever out of place, OR enjoy fleeting moments of relaxed placidity, which I pay for by inevitably, repeatedly losing things, and suffering agonizing hours of humiliatingly searching for that shit, and often missing out on other things that I want or even need to do, because I just naturally cannot fucking handle anything.

I'm 100% sure I would jump off a cliff if I had to see the number of hours I spend each year searching for shit I lost. It's hard enough just knowing how many hours I spend searching for shit each DAY.

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