#ill never be good enough to be someones first choice

[thequeenofsastiel]

I'll say this about UHC's weird ass system. As long time or at least semi long time followers know, I got very sick a few months ago. Admittedly it was because of choices I made, but, in my defense, I didn't realize that the choices I made would have the effect they did.

I was hospitalized for five days and then spent six days in a physical rehab center so I could regain the ability to walk. Not the finest experience of my life, but I'm lucky enough to say that I had good nurses looking after me, and one really good nurse who stood up for me to the dismissive doctor who wanted to send me home when I couldn't get out of bed because none of the tests they ran were able to find anything(which I think is because there is so little known about what was wrong with me and thus they don't even have tests yet to discern my illness(Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome for anyone who wants to know; look for that tag on my blog if you want the longer story, I recommend it because it's very good information to have if you or someone you know regularly or even sometimes consumes cannabis in some way)). He was amazing. I also had really awesome physical and occupational therapists. My only complaint is that they were understaffed, but I blame that on the fact that we treat nurses so poorly that not nearly enough people want to become them.

The point is, I got home, and received letters from UHC. They were willing to cover my physical rehab, because they determined it to be medically necessary, but not the hospital stay, because they thought that wasn't medically necessary. Which is honestly the most absurd thing I've ever heard. Why would I need the rehab but not the hospitalization prior to the rehab?

I fought. They didn't care. So I owe the hospital about $56,000 for a five day stay, which I'll likely never be able to pay off unless I somehow stumble onto a high paying job that doesn't make me miserable, which seems unlikely.

So yeah. Thanks, UHC. You can go ahead and buy some sympathy for Brian Thompson with that money you're saving from your bullshit policies. I'm never using UHC again. Fuck that company. And, more importantly, fuck the US government for being swayed by healthcare lobbyists and not giving us the universal health care we deserve as citizens. Nay, as human beings. Stop letting the rich control the country. I don't want a class war, the vulnerable will suffer first, but if you keep letting this happen, the people are going to revolt. Stop pearl clutching about the response to the killing, and take a good long look in the mirror about why we feel this way. Because honestly, I think it's the only chance we have to avoid a revolution.

[saaraahka]

Its weird how often people forget talking and writing is two completely different forms of communication that needs very different skills. Did it take me one or two minutes or a day to write this post? It doesent really matter ofc. But in a conversation between four eyes its a very different thing.

And I can't blame anyone who feels like it is simply not fun, fulfilling, or interesting for you to get an endless yes - no - idk chain from the other side. I hate it. I hate trying to have a conversation, and the only thing going on in my pathetic brain is just an empty void. Yet it's who I am, and I hate myself for it.

I just don't understand what to do to compensate for that and be considered good enough to be around by someone. But I doubt it is considered attractive.

[ziracona]

The Darkness really is the best song in the show.

[devourable]

⚘ the boys next door

sfwish, mdni | tags ; poly!male yanderes x gn reader (no prns used but 'you'), manipulation, yan behavior, slight fetishization of virginity

originally this was just gonna be one character so thank mazzy for convincing me to make him a poly duo instead lmfao. ik i have things to finish but like,,, boys 🫶

not too proud of this one so ill probs revise it or make a part two at a l8r time when im feeling less rusty

the boys next door were the two that everyone knew of as a pair.

sebastian and tobias grew up together, learned together, played together, and shared absolutely everything practically since they were born. they were what people thought of when the words 'best friends' came to mind.

nothing could or would ever come between the two boys, everyone said.

so it was no shock that when you came in and quite literally got between them — by virtue of moving into the vacancies that separated their homes — their instant mutual attraction to you would do nothing but strengthen the bond between them.

it was odd. any additions to their relationship was unheard of, but...

the boys next door shared everything. you didn't think that'd exclude you, did you?

toby and sebastian were quick to befriend you when you entered their life. you were around their age, practically the only other child in the area at that; but unlike the children at school who they'd turn away from in favor of each other, they readily made you part of their dynamic.

they didn't quite understand the feelings you gave them at first, they were too young to. all they really knew is that they liked being around you, they liked talking about you, and they wanted you to themselves.

when you were young, everything became about you. their favorite games involved them being your loyal knights, or bodyguards, or any other role that involved protecting you from whatever threat their little minds could imagine up.

and when you grew tired of playing the damsel in distress? they were fine with it. whatever you wanted from them, you got. sebastian's gaming console was practically yours with how much he pushed you to play on it. toby would beg his parents to get him any toy he'd seen you show interest in; and he'd always eventually get them for you.

they didn't want you to ever be bored around them. you'd always have a good time on their watch, and they spoiled you relentlessly to the best of their abilities.

you were theirs, now! and you took care of what was yours, no matter what. that's what both of them were taught.

they grew up with you. learned with you. played with you, and of course, they shared you — even as the three of you grew up.

everyone around you saw how much they adored you, too. when asked, the two boys would proclaim how they'd both marry you in the future. it was so cute! no one saw an issue with how they always took up as much time and attention as they could from you. or how you never really seemed to be able to make friends with other kids at your school...

you had your best friends, so it didn't matter. they were all you needed.

the pair grew to love their constant close proximity to you. it ensured that they'd know what was going on in your life at all times as you grew and developed. when you weren't all hanging out together, it wouldn't be unusual for the pair to simply watch your home from their windows, glimpsing into your windows to watch you go about your life.

you were turning into a fine young adult. but you still needed their protection! they both easily surpassed you in size as you all grew up — sebastian in particular, who's height was staggering compared to both you and toby. he liked the edge it gave him, and how intimidating he could be when needed. tobias didn't have that advantage, but everyone liked him enough to respect you as his territory anyway. you were so small and sweet, what if someone saw you the way they did? they couldn't have that, they had no choice but to keep you to themselves.

it felt like you always had at least one of the two at your side at all times. so much so that it felt odd when you were without either of them. sebastian and toby being by your side was as natural as breathing and you grew to never really question their behavior.

they were just making sure you were okay when they insisted on keeping you company when you were home alone. when toby took your first kiss, it was because it only made sense — it should go to someone you trust and care about, right? and when you told the two that you were still a virgin well into adulthood (which they knew, of course), they insisted on being your first.

they knew you better than anyone, they'd know how to make you feel good. and who better to give your virginity to than your best friends?

getting to claim your body, inside and out, was one of the best moments of their lives. no one would ever get to have you the way they did.

no matter what you'd do, where you'd go, you'd always be effected by them in some way — and that's exactly how they wanted it. they'd always be your first best friends, your first boyfriends, your first everything. and you'd always be theirs.

the boys next door would always be entangled in your life. but you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?

they know you better than anyone, after all.

[lemonade4wanda]

Sniffle any louder

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - when you show up to work il lit aggravates Natasha that is until she sees your dire state

Warnings - mention of illness, nonsexual nudity, hurt comfort, as usual not proofread

Word count - 2k

A/n - I started rushing at the end because I wanted to have it out by tonight so the ending might not be as good srry

Fractures of pain shot through your aching body like icicles as you left the team meeting. God how you wished you'd just admitted you were ill this morning instead of letting your pride get in the way and pretended to the team that you were right as rain. I guess that's what happens when your on a team with literal super soldiers, you too start believing your above any illness or injury. Oh, but how wrong you realised you were when this flu hit you like a ton of bricks. The combined migraine alongside with the distrsssing chill of your bones left little energy left for you to do anything except lie down and rest, which you hated to admit and wouldn't ever given the choice, despite how sickly you'd begun to look.

Your usual bright eyes full of life and wonder became dull and bloodshot from the lack of sleep your blocked nose had caused you the previous night when you chose to ignore it. The skin on your face that was often painted a rosy colour now paled almost deathly looking, comparable to that of a ghost. Your unshakable senses, often remarked as some of the best had become overworked and dulled from the sickness using up all your remaining energy causing you not to notice people around you until they had begun to speak. The gravelly gasping and choking noises that spluttered from your inflamed throat were foreign to your usual bubbly voice.

Despite these stark and clear changes in not only your physical appearance but also how you carried yourself around the compound you had tricked yourself, somehow, into the belief no one around you would notice. Obviously you were unwell anyone could see that from a mile off and if you didn't think out of a house full of spies, enhanced beings and military personnel that not one of them would pick up on something up with you then you must have been seriously down with something.

Unlucky for you someone did notice after your sniffling had interupted their train of thought for the seventh time, it didn't take a genuis but she'd been ignoring the signs since you arrived. Natasha Romanoff had been trying to reread and correct a badly written mission report written by an incompetent intern. This had already been stressful enough for her without the woman next to her trying to desperately through her blocked nose instead of just going home. The first time she actually noticed something was up was when you nearly walked into the door, stumbling around like bambi on ice. This was something someone with your spacial awareness and high senses would never manage to do if they were as okay as they were telling everyone they were. She spotted it again when you began to cough like a smoker and at that like someone who smoked at least five packs a day, a thing she knew you were not. You'd told her a while back that despite your bad habits which were endless and definitely on show today that you never wanted to smoke because it reminded you of your mother. So unless you'd switched up on that which she very much doubted and had taken up chain smoking the answer was clear; you were ill, very ill.

She also questioned why you were even here, how you were even here. Natasha would leap at the first chance to avoid these dull meetings even if it meant admitting illness to the rest of the group. She'd actually faked being ill before to skip debriefs and instead head to the gym. At one point she had no clue how you were even still able to be alive and functioning with how shallow your breaths were. Everytime your mouth opened a disgusting noise alike to the disgust she felt at nails on a chalk board rung from deep in your throat. Aswell your ever scratcher voice that was beginning to drive her insane. It was one thing to come in sick, it was another to make yourself more ill by working harder than usual.

This had made her angry more than anything, angry at your selflessness. Angry no one else would ever do this, including herself. Angry you put working above your own physical health. Angry that you'd risk everyone else getting ill instead of taking a sick day. Angry you couldnt just admit your illness and leave.

Your eighth sniffle really sent Natasha over the edge as she turned to look dead at you and gave you a menacingly dirty look. A scowl that could kill glowering into your soul. Yet in feverly state you could hardly even register the spy looking in your direction as you still tried to process something said in conversation several minutes ago. Throughout the rest of the meeting she sideyed, scowled, gritted teeth, frowned, muttered under breath and cursed in your direction much to you ignorance. On an average day you could recognise what emotion someone was going through just by being in the same room as them and the tone of their breath but right now even with Natasha directly next you, practically right in your face you couldn't pick up a single negative emotion.

After the meeting you quickly stumbled in the direction of your room, hoping to avoid anyone on the way there, which you managed with much ease despite your worsening condition. Once you reached your room you shut the door without bothering with the lock. Stripped to your underwear and crawled back into bed without a sound. Curling up under your soft thick duvets you shivered and slowly cried yourself into a feverish slumber.

Natasha stayed behind to finish her reports, which she easily could have done hours ago without your incessant coughing and sniffling and all round ill noises. It only infuriated her more as she worked quickly, alone and welcoming the silence since the end of the meeting. When she finished up the work she was just about ready to give you a piece of her mind. And thats what she was gonna do. She had strong feelings about you prioritisation of work over wellness and she was gonna share them with you whether you wanted to hear or not.

Easily, she threw open your door and it hit the wall with a bang, enraged she didnt notice your crumpled whimpering figure writhing under the duvet.

"Sniffle a little louder next meeting." She comments loudly and sarcastically before instantly wincing at the sight of you in the bed.

Instantly her whole demeanour changes into one of care and pure unhidden worry. Natasha crouched over your trembling figure on the bed. Quickly she removed the pile of blankets from overtop and pressed a palm to your forhead before just as swiftly pulling it away with a frown. You were boiling 38°c at the very least and yet your body was still shivering. Without thinking twice Natasha knew the best thing for you was a cold, very cold shower.

She carried your somehow still sleeping figure easily into the bathroom as if you were no more than a light weight to her, which you probably were considering her max dead lift. Gently and ever so carefully she sat you down in the bath before turning the cool shower on next to you. Adjusting it so the water pressure was lower than usual so that it maybe less of a shock for when you fully woke.

Soon after the water began to flow your eyes opened to the hazy view before you. Natasha knelt over the bath making sure you were just alright. When you noticed the water and the bath, definitely not where you fall asleep you began to panic. Quickly flailing much like a fish out of water. Thrashing to get out the bath and attempting to scrabble to your feet. Natasha noticed your sudden frenzy and much quicker than you could, grabbed a hold of your hands halting your movements while whispering affirming words to you.

"Shh sh its okay. Your just in the bath, don't worry were just trying to soothe your fever." She begins to rub your palms slowly in a way which soothes you and instantly slows your panic as you go to rest your head on the bathroom wall.

"Hm don't do that darling. Try and stay awake while your in the bath, just for now." She's says quietly afraid to worsen the headache you already had as she coaxes your head off the wall. "That's it good girl. You can do this."

Her small praises would have usually annoyed you and felt almost condescending but right now they were almost enough to make you smile. She was making you feel as if your feeble attempts to stay conscious were really doing anything.

"M' so tired." You mumbled out a response that slumped together into your mouth so it was barely understandable to Natasha yet she still smiled and nodded at you, not wanting you to feel any worse than you already did.

"That's okay sweet girl, the sooner we get you out the bath and some medicine down you the sooner you can sleep." All the while she kept rubbing at your hands and fingers to keep you grounded in the moment. "I'm going to find you some fresh clothes just stay here."

You nodded but the minute Natasha left your head flopped back against the wall as if magnetised towards it. Upon her return with fresh clothes Natasha tutted.

"You really aren't well, are you?" A small attempt at a nod on your part did not surprise her one bit. "See if you told someone earlier we wouldn't be here right now. You have to ask for help when you need it." She knew her words meant little to you in your current state but she wanted to start bedding them in now nonetheless.

"Now, do you need help getting dressed? There's no shame in needing the help."

"Uhm.. I think a bit." Your response was croaky and your voice was beginning to sound worse by the second.

"That's okay, I'll help you then." She gives you a hand getting out the bath and holds you upright as she helps fully undress you. In her panic to get you in the bath she hadn't thought to remove what you were wearing.

You weren't insecure about your body but something like this would usually not be on with you. But right now you knew you couldn't refuse the help Natasha was offering as you could barely even stand still yourself. So begrudgingly you allowed her to undo your bra and slip off your underwear before tossing them in the bath saying something about getting them to the wash later. Putting on the fresh clothes was easier than either of you anticipated as you didn't resist and her strength helped you from falling against the cold tile floor.

Natasha helped you hobble back towards your bed which you instantly fell against ready to embrace sleep again.

"Ah. Not so quick, first the medicine then sleep." She said softly handing you first a couple pills and some water. "For your headache." Begrudgingly you took them and Natasha smiled as she saw the look of grimace on your face finding it both amusing and adorable. "Okay sweet girl just the syrup left, this will help for your throat." You stared at the syrup in your hand with a frown. Just the smell of its contents was enough to make you dry heave and its colour wasn't tempting either. After two minutes of more convincing and praise you managed to stomach it, not all of it but enough so Natasha was happy enough to stop bothering you.

You knew after that you could finally emmerse yourself in a blissful slumber and with little care curled up, face pressing into Natasha who watched over you as you slept making sure nothing interupted your much needed rest.

Tags: @wandasfifthwife @yanaromanov @idkwhatever580 @stayevildarling

[iifoundjoy]

BEAR WITH ME.

warning: spoilers for ep 75

i was just scrolling through tiktok and then the thought occurred to me that everyone grew up together (minus ben and aiden) and basically never interacted until the group project. yeah, duh, that's the whole premise of their strange group at first, but it just strikes a cord to think that these kids who have become so inseparable were so close to each other this whole time without even knowing it, without even knowing that they needed each other.

because why now, after all these years, would they? after all, they were just strangers who occasionally saw each other in the hall or during class, strangers that they could never understand, right? they were just too different.

i mean, just think about how taylor says she's always noticed ashlyn since they were kids and how she was always on her own. she didnt understand how ash could be content with that, isn't it lonely?

tyler is most likely, lets face it, pretty popular. when we're introduced to him and taylor they're in this huge group of typical jocks due to tyler being on the baseball team. ashlyn and logan must've known him before due to that, seen them parading through the halls. and seeing as how neither logan nor ash like loud noises or crowds very much they probably wrote him off as a loud jock and went about their day. maybe saw how cold and angry he was with everyone but his sister and thought he must be unpleasant to be around.

as for logan, he, like ash, is pretty obviously very much a background character in everyone else's lives. most likely a loner just like ashlyn, very shy. if the rest of the gang ever noticed him it was probably nothing more than a glance. because logan at the time was nothing more than barrons stereotypical nerd that does his homework because he's scared of what will happen if he doesn't.

it just makes me ILL that these people who would grow to care so much about each other were all so close without knowing it, hell, they probably passed each other in their towns grocery store multiple times before. maybe seen tyler play in one of his games with taylor yelling above everyone else because that's her brother, saw ashlyn perform and dance, saw logan reading in the astronomy section in the library.

and yet they didn't know they'd ever learn to trust these strangers with their lives every night. that they would learn that tyler is more than just a loud, angry jock. he loves and cares about his sister, took up being basically a parent from a very young age, and doesn't truly have any friends because they are just a distraction.

that taylor is every bit as friendly as she let's others believe, but if you mess with her brother or her friends that sun can cloud over so quick.

that ashlyn likes to be alone but given the time and patience, she would love to be alone with you. that she doesn't want to, but if she's needed, she will step up and be the leader you need. sure, she isn't good at "friends" and she'll make mistakes, but she owns up to them because she tries and she cares.

and finally, logan, who at first is so shy and unsure, yet is quick-witted and brave enough to make hard choices and learn where he fits in with a group. to stand up against someone who bullied him and threatened him daily and help someone else from going down the same path he did.

AND PLEASE don't even get me started on ben and aiden.

those two have been practically alone their whole lives until they met each other. all aiden had was the dark room that reeked of molding food and people he hung around just to pass the time because he knew they weren't permanent, nothing ever was with his parents.

and ben's only friend before aiden being the music he could create before it was taken away from him, and all he had left was the broken melodies that he tried to find in every punch he threw.

they were both so, so alone and seeking something that would stay, something that would last because everything else that made them happy seemed to fall just out of reach now.

but just one move away, one final move to a small town in georgia held everything that could hurt and heal them all in one. they were all what everyone needed, even if they didn't know it and it drives me insane that if these kids hadn't been put through hell, they never would have found each other.

and they're more than willing to claw their way out together, not because they have to to survive, but because they want to so that they can live.

red what have you dooone 😭/pos

[strawberrystepmom]

canon au. cult leader!geto x f!reader. | word count: 762, reading time: 3 minutes.

“Did I ever matter to you, Suguru?”

In a different life, the fact you’ve even asked would have crushed the man standing next to you. In this imaginary reality, he’d ask how he could show you differently that he cares. He would reaffirm that the attention you spent almost a year of your life extending to him was worth it and helped him through the worst times he has ever experienced, but in this one he knows better.  

It doesn’t matter if you did or not. His feelings won’t change the fact you will never be his, your noble choice to do good far more important to you than any lingering feelings you may have for him.

“No, I guess you didn’t.”

The words taste worse across his tongue than any curse he’s ever ingested. He’s a liar, damned to hell for more reasons than just dishonesty, but he has to finally let you go; to let you walk back into a crowded club with tears blurring your vision because his words cut to your core. You told him years ago you fear being forgettable, someone people can let go of without a second thought, and it’s the sharpest knife he can press into you in some ill guided attempt to get the last word.

“I’m glad to finally know.” 

A chance encounter in a club closes out a chapter in your life you thought you’d stay suspended in forever and your stomach turns, your hands idly resting at your sides while your thoughts race. From “does your boyfriend know you’re out dressed like that?” to turning your head with a grin that swiftly fell as you weaved through the thick crowd to end up out here. 

You sniffle and what’s left of his heart breaks, wondering for a moment if he can’t take it back. If he can’t replicate the grin of his former best friend, jovial and wide enough that you believe he’s joking. He could toss you a sardonic, bitter chuckle and you’d roll your eyes but who would it help? 

It’s not like you’re going to return to him, it’s not like he can undo this.

“Thank you for being honest,” you mutter quietly before turning on your heel to leave.

Words sit heavily in his mouth but they disappear with each step you take, putting distance between the two of you before you glance over your shoulder. He’ll try not to remember the look in your eyes while they dance over the entirety of his form as though they’re seeing who he really is for the first time. 

He’ll fail and it’s why he accepts that tonight you’ll return to Satoru, begging for affirmation that you aren’t as worthless as you feel and he’ll almost certainly give it to you, eager to please with sweet words and teases. Reassurances you aren’t nothing, that you’ve made a mark on his life he won’t soon be recovering from. The boy with the silver spoon has become the man with a gilded tongue, the one who always inevitably gets what he wants.

God knows Satoru has wanted you for long enough, since you first stumbled into his life at fifteen, it’s only right he gets to have you now despite Suguru’s selfish wishes that you stay affected by him forever.

He’ll fail and that’s why he knows he will return to the compound, a failed scouting mission in the city under his belt, but he’ll slide into someone’s bed regardless. There’s a woman who looks enough like you when the lights are low he can pretend, it’s the reason he recruited her in the first place, a poor imitation of the real deal. He can press his hand over her mouth to keep her from speaking pleasured babbles in a voice that doesn’t belong to you and he can close his eyes and pretend the smack of skin on skin is yours on his. He’ll ask her to flip over to her belly so he doesn’t have to look at her but he can imagine that the hair that’s a shade too dark to belong to you is still yours, looped around his fist while he fucks all of his angst into her, pretending he’s another man living another life.

Your retreating footsteps continue and his traitorous mouth opens, gasping quietly enough it doesn’t grab your attention over the sound of pouring rain and thrumming music behind the entrance to the club, and he closes it wordlessly, grateful he’ll never have to see you look at him like that again.

[harksness]

No Going Back

Summary: An incurable illness plagues you, something one of a kind that has never been seen before. It corrupts magic, leaving you unable to use your powers without risking death or worse. Someone wants all of your unused power themselves, and a reluctant Agatha Harkness is convinced to keep you safe after some bribing.

A/N: aaa I've had the idea for this for like 2yrs now!!! I'm super excited to be finishing it and posting it finally!! It's my first in depth, planned fanfic and I'm super excited to share it I hope you guys like it <3

(Also lowk paranoid that some of the creative decisions I made for this fic are gonna end up being explained in the show so just nevermind that if it happens we're just here for some fun romance and smut with Agatha ok)

WC: 3k

Anxiety gnaws away at your insides as you flick on your blinker, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel as you turn down that familiar dirt road that you hate so much. That long, winding dirt road that also leads to the house that you hate so much.

You try the breathing exercises your therapist taught you. The slow, calculated inhales, the holding your breath, and slow calculated exhales, but it does nothing to relieve the feeling in your chest that’s suffocating you. 

The cars headlights cut through the darkness, thick layers of tall, old trees swarming each side of the road as their branches bow overhead. You can’t even see the night sky through the thick layers of leaves.

You’re positive that if you had consulted your therapist about this little visit before coming, she would have told you that it’s not a good idea. That reopening old wounds after basically being no contact for four years would undo a lot of healing and hard work. 

But, when you listened to your fathers urgent voicemail, you knew you needed to come. You had no choice. The deal you made with him before leaving was more than fair. He agreed to leave you alone and only contact you if it was a necessary emergency. And you agreed to that more than fair deal.

He wanted you to be as far away from him as possible, and you wanted the same thing. To be far, far away from him and any reminders of what happened to you, your childhood and the toxic magical community you grew up in.

You’re sure that you were only able to get away because of your little defect. And because after your mother died, he immediately remarried and your father didn’t waste time popping out plenty of new babies, pureblooded heirs that could flawlessly wield their old blood magic unlike you.

If your father called you back home you know it’s a serious, urgent matter. And that only makes your chest grow tighter as you turn the last bend and your childhood home comes into view.

“Well.. Here we go..”

You grumble to yourself, the tall, menacing house looming over you amongst all of the trees. The night sky actually cuts through these parts, the moonglow illuminating the house and its surroundings as you pull up to the front door. Immediately you kill the engine and shift your car into park, leaning forward to peer up at the house.

The pristine white under the moonlight makes it look like it’s glowing. It stands tall and proud and perfect, no chipping or dirt in sight. A black roof sits on top, perfectly black framed windows spread along the sides of the house, and not a single one is lit up with evidence of life. Curiously, you keep peering, checking for a sign of anyone being in the house. With a deep breath you grab your keys and your bag and exit the car.

It’s dead silent, save for the sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the trees when a soft breeze blows through. You pause as you take a deep breath to steady yourself. Cautiously, you walk around to the other side of the house, leaning over and peering just enough to see if any lights were turned on. 

Nope. Nothing. All of the windows are black as pitch. You groan, pinching your eyes shut as you try to soothe yourself by rubbing your fingers on your forehead.

Whatever. You’ll just go inside and call your father. You’d be dead meat if you left without his permission, anyways. He sounded very urgent. Deathly urgent. With a deep exhale pushing past your lips, you walk back around the house, the wind chilling your cheeks as you start to make your way up the front steps. 

No door handle, just a block of smooth painted wood that looks like a door. A wave of exhaustion overtakes you as you press your palm to the smooth center of the wood, your features dropping as an electric blue glow flows in ripples over the door before it parts for you, splitting down the middle and swinging open.

The main hall is eerily dark and you have to force yourself to move forward. The moonlight is bright enough to where you can see, but everything is shadowed. The hall stretches out far, down the length of the entire house before leading to the wide, open stairs that would take you up to the expansive second level. 

A hard, loud slam echoes through the halls and shakes the house. It’s enough for you to let out a scream and jump as you fling yourself around to the source of the noise, noticing the front doors are sealed closed. Your face scrunches in confusion at the sight. It should just.. Close like a normal door as soon as you are comfortably in the threshold of the house. Never have you seen it linger or slam like that before, not even in your years growing up here.

You sigh, deciding to brush it off even though you know something is wrong, more so because you know that you’re incapable of protecting yourself like a normal witch would be able to so gaslighting yourself is just the easier option for now.

Besides, whatever’s wrong can’t be life endangering to you. The property is warded and safe, it’s basically impossible to get through to the house let alone inside of it. Hundreds of years of magical wards and barriers make sure of that. So, you grab your phone out of your coat pocket, your fingers cold as you pull up your fathers contact and press the call button.

You raise the phone to your ear as the sound of the monotonous chimes ring through the silent rooms as you pass through them, cautiously walking into the family room. The sound of your boots is muffled by the thick carpet as you walk over it to peer out of the window. The wind rushes against the side of the house, the echo of the noise whispering through the silent halls of your childhood home.

“Okay, I’m at the house. What’s going on and where are you? Please… Just call me back.”

Lowering the phone with a tense sigh, you drop it back into your coat pocket before turning back to the window. You decide to analyze the treeline for any sign of something being off, and you see something that makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.

One of the protective runes carved into one of the trees has been singed off. You can tell by the sizzling burn marks that it was magic, the bark of the tree burned all the way through and to the wood underneath, leaving no sign of the runes that were previously there. Your throat dries up.

Whoever did that had to have broken through two other protective barriers on the property. It’s tough magic and in order to break through it… You’d need some scarily powerful magic on your side.

There’s only been a few times over the decades since the house was built that someone has been able to break through the protective barriers. The last time was when your mother was assassinated and you were left for dead when you were a child.

You can’t stop the panic from bubbling in your chest this time, not knowing what to do or how to protect yourself. Your mind is frantic as you search for a solution, your hand moving to fist the pendant hanging from your neck, but something catches your eye and you freeze. In the reflection of the window you see her, a woman reclining in your fathers favorite chair. The back of the extravagant, plush red chair reaches high, the woman is slumped down in it, her black heeled boots dangling over one armrest of the chair as she gently swings her feet back and forth, the fabric of her purple skirt swaying with each movement.

Her body is twisted just a bit so that her front is tilted towards you, her chin resting in her palm. She’s donning a very traditionally witchy getup. Her wild, brown curls fall off of her head in crazy waves as it cascades over her shoulders. Her lips are quirked in the snarkiest smirk you’ve ever seen, your chest tightening even further when you notice her bright blue eyes are planted right on you. 

You whip around to face her, your eyes widening when you see her with your own two eyes and not in the window's reflection, confirming this is real and not a figment of your imagination.

“Oh my goodness! It took you long enough to notice me! If this were a horror movie, or if I actually wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead the second those doors slammed shut, sweetheart.”

The woman's smooth voice has a taunting edge to it. She swings her feet over and around and they land against the carpet with a dramatic thump! before she pushes herself out of the chair and onto her feet.

“Thank god I don’t want to kill you.”

Her smirk drops into a warning smile, her voice doing the same. You’re gripping your pendant so tightly that you can feel it cutting into the skin of your palm.

“What do you mean? What do you want?”

You ask, your voice shaky and soft. She drops her gaze to your fist, pointing at it.

“That’s what I want.”

Her eyes meet yours again as she takes a few steps towards you. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and give it to me? Or do I have to take it from you?”

She holds out her hand, and that’s when your gaze catches on the pendant on her neck. Your eyes widen in horror, taking a slow step backwards.

Every witch knows about Agatha Harkness. About her long list of crimes, both magical and not. Especially those of you connected to the elder families. She’s successfully stolen from some, even killed a few. She was a suspect in your mothers murder and your assault, but was ruled out for having been out of the country at the time.

“Why do you want it?”

You stutter through the sentence, trying to distract her for a moment as you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do. You just keep hoping, praying to whatever god is listening, that you can get your magic to work right just this once.

“Stop stalling, honey.. You know exactly why I want it.”

You take her words as your signal to call on your magic, and it appears in a sickly blue-ish yellow glow, enveloping you as you feel it wash over you, turning you invisible. You start cursing internally, knowing your magic won’t last long enough to keep you safe. But you have to try something. 

You don’t know what to do. Just run to your car, which probably won’t work, hide, which also probably won’t work, or somehow try to distract her which is your best bet but also probably won’t work.

So, you start booking it down the hall, the hard thumps of your feet on wood rattling through the old house as you dart for the stairs. Your fingers wrap around the bannister and you start running up the steps, taking them two steps at a time as you desperately search your mind for a good place to hide. 

“It’s funny you think you can hide, sweetheart.”

Agatha calls after you, and you can already hear her making her way up the stairs. She’s taking her time as she follows after you. You bolt down the hall, finding your old bedroom. When you throw open the door you’re not surprised to see that they renovated it, it seems to be an art studio for your step mother now.

You step back into the hallway, remaining invisible as you quietly move out of the way. Agatha is making her way down the hall, her robes and long hair flowing dramatically behind her as she approaches the door you flung open.

“Oh, come on.. Just make this easier for the both of us and come on out.”

She laughs as she sticks her head into the room, surveying it. She must be suspicious that you’re not actually in there. You take the opportunity to do something you’ve never tried before, something stupid that could kill you- and you call on your magic.

You raise your hand, closing your eyes as you carefully begin to draw your power from the pendant around your neck. It’s unstable in its pure form like this, your anxiety bubbling in your chest as you draw it into your hand, feeling it crackle and pop like a fire. You feel the invisibility spell wash off of you like water, your fingers flicking backwards in time with the powerful bursts of magic.

You build the magic steadily, higher and higher as you wait for her to turn around.

When she finally does, you twist your arms, using all of your strength to fling the yellow-blue ball of magic right into the woman. She flies backwards, and you hear the crashing noises as she falls right into all of the easels and canvases.

Peering through the door, you see her in a clump on the floor with the broken and tattered art supplies. She blows a long piece of thick brown hair that hand landed in her face out of the way with a dramatic puff of her lips.

“I thought you couldn’t use magic..”

Agatha grumbles as she climbs to her feet, dusting herself off. She pauses, an uneasy look overtaking her face.

“What.. What was that?”

She groans, wrapping her arms around her stomach where your magic had landed. You let out a breathy, surprised laugh. 

“What did you do to me!? I thought you couldn't use magic!”

Agatha yells at you, rage seeping through her voice as it booms in the halls of the house. Fear grips you again as you straighten up, not bothering to give her an explanation.

She groans out in pain behind you, and you start running. Your feet heavy thumps as you book it down the hall, thinking you finally got a chance.

Not only does she need to realize what's happening to her, she needs to purge it from her body. Someone that powerful shouldn't have an issue dealing with it, but fighting it out should stall just long enough for you to get away.

Or so you thought.

Something hits you so hard that you fall to the ground, landing roughly on your right arm. The force of your body hitting the hard wood beneath you causes your head to snap against the floor too, a loud yelp of pain pushing out of your throat as pain shoots in hot flashes across your skull and down your arm.

A few seconds later you’re blinking dumbly as you try to regain your senses, your head ringing and vision blurry from your hard fall. Your eyes roll in your head, a groggy groan escaping your lips as you desperately try to pick yourself off the ground.

Your right arm is stuck. Shoulder to hand, as if it’s superglued to the wood beneath you. Desperately you pull on your arm, trying to sit up to no avail as you hear the woman approaching you from behind.

You’re basically a bug that walked into a sticky trap, helpless as you watch your impending demise approach you. You turn your head to the sound of boots on the wooden floor, seeing Agatha sauntering towards you, purple skirt swaying around the ankles of her black boots. You’re just barely able to make out a coherent thought through all of the pain and fog clouding your mind- you’re fucked.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, your head throbbing in time with every beat as the woman crouches down before you. You’re unable to focus on her features, desperately wincing and pinching your eyes shut to try and get rid of the pain. Her fingers wrap around your jaw, biting softly into your cheeks as she focuses your lolling head on her gaze.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean for you to hit the ground that hard. Don’t wanna risk damaging that pretty face, hm?”

You blink rapidly as she starts to come into focus. You try to gargle out a response, but find yourself unable to as pain shoots through your skull. She coos at you with wide eyes, raising her free hand to run softly over the top of your head.

“At the very least, there’s gonna be a bump. At the very most, a concussion.. I really am sorry, but I needed this-”

Her hand is reaching towards your neck. Panic spikes in your chest when you realize she’s going to grab your necklace.

“N-no!”

You force the word past your lips in a desperate stutter, your voice echoing through the long hall so loudly that it surprises you. The witch before you even seems a bit taken off guard, curling her fingers back as she retreats her hand only slightly.

“What’s wrong with your magic..”

She asks, her voice soft and firm as her eyes narrow at you in curiosity. Panic is bubbling in your chest, rising in your throat.

“I don’t know.”

You whisper in return, before that all too familiar flash of blue-yellow magic lights up between the two of you. Agatha raises her hands, manifesting a wide, purple shield the exact moment your unstable magic collides with it. A loud noise sounds right when it collides with hers, shaking the house and echoing loudly in your ears. Your head flies in the opposite direction at the force, smacking against the floor once again as your vision goes black.

[milf--adjacent]

serious voting question: I'm an ml and generally I don't vote. can I ask what your reasoning is for voting third party? I'm curious to round out my opinion a little better

Seeing just how many people voted socialist back in the 19-teens was an inspiration to me as a baby leftist growing up in a deep red state. Even if they didn't win, I saw that I wasn't alone like I felt I was, that even the 'stupid' people of the past had some sense in their heads and supported policy and politics we still need even today. So no. 1 it's for the baby leftists to come who will feel trapped and alone and need a tangible connection to their beliefs: The number of people who simply didn't vote doesn't show up in textbooks, but minor party votes do.

Second: the democratic campaigning apparatus only serves to seperate those willing to organize from meaningful organization. By convincing people to put that same energy into the third party of their choice, we have countered at least a little of the Democrat's anti-revolutionary strategy. If you can convince a progressive to actually act and vote like a progressive, that's someone who might actually help when you need to set up a soup kitchen or protest in the future.

Thirdly: Many of these "I'm gonna vote anyway so I might as well vote blue" folks have never engaged in organizing. Getting involved with 3rd parties puts them in touch with others who are of a similar political slant, the first (and often most difficult) step in organizing. At least with the Greens in most places, they actively ask for help of all sorts, giving people experience in organizing they can build on as they become more politically involved. More people who know how to organize is never a bad thing.

Fourthly: If a third party can get just 5% of the national vote in an election, they are entitled to national campaign funding and a space in the official debates in the coming election. This would be a much needed shift in American politics. Democrats sound much more like republicans than leftists, and that's part of why they never get involved in the free and equal debates: the democrats are to the right of the fucking libertarians on a number of policies.

Finally: if a 3rd party candidate did win the presidency, a lot of the good things the democrats have held over our heads like bait for decades would get done, and people would have more time and energy to commit to political actions. I support 3rd party politics because at the very least it shakes things up a little. The status quo is what's killing us and any effort to change that disorganizes and spreads our true enemies thinner. Center-left socialism will not save us, but it will at least address the social ills of our society in a helpful way and attempt to tackle crisies like climate change, policing, and ending foreign policy fiascos via slashing the bloated military budget (even the fucking libertarians are running on that).

The general population of the US will refuse to even consider actual leftist politics without some sort of shift in our electoral politics. Instead of apathy and middle-finger-hoisting inaction, I chose an action with lasting strategic value. If we want a real "the revolution will not be televised" moment, we have to slap the soma of blue-tie lies out of enough hands to get people to pay attention. 3rd party electoralism is a step in the correct direction for them and a path I have started many people down already. I plan to continue until there is no need for it.

[enhaheeseung]

NOBODIES - L. HS

Pairing: heeseung x fem reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, physical and verbal abuse, cursing, blood, crying, mental illness, mentions of suicide, smoking.

WC: 11,933k

Note: some of my older writing so if it’s not good please forgive me :(

3:00 am

While most people were asleep at this time, you could be found wide awake, sobbing quietly a few blocks away from your home.

Home.

A place you wish that you could be far away from and never come back.

Home.

A place where your parents abused you every night.

Home.

A place that didn’t feel like home.

You look out into the night sky with scraped knees, a black eye, and dark bruises covering your fragile body.

Every day was the same. Your parents abused you each chance they got for the unfortunate outcome of a broken relationship. They blamed you for why everything fell apart between them. They always told you everything was fine until you came along. Those dreadful words replayed in your mind daily.

Was it regret, was it something you did, was it just cause they didn’t have time for you? You’d never know.

You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask to be born, if it was your choice. You’d choose not to be born, that way, your parents would be happy, and you would have never existed.

In the distance, you could hear faint sounds of footsteps approaching as they got closer and closer.

A shadow figure came into clear view, standing right above you.

“What are you doing out here so late? It’s not safe for you to be all alone.” you kept your head down so the stranger, who could only be identified as male from the sound of his voice, would not see your bruised face.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you respond quietly.

“What if I told you I don’t want to be safe?” the unknown man crouches down, taking a seat next to you on the sidewalk and inviting himself into your personal bubble.

“Then I’d ask you why.” You wipe your tears discreetly.

“Cause I don’t know what safe feels like, and that scares me.” You hear rustling close to your side, and a metal cling sound, soon followed by a strong smell of cigarette smoke that fills your nostrils. “I hope you don’t mind the smoke.”

What bothered you more than the smoke was that you could relate to every word he just said to you.

“I assume from your silence and being out here all alone you feel the same way.” he deeply exhales the smoke.

“N-no, I don’t,” you lie.

“Please don’t waste time lying to yourself. I had to figure that out the hard way.” He responds.

“What do you know?” You question feeling irritated by him being able to read you like an open book.

“More than I want to know, so what should I call you?” He hums.

“I don’t give my name to random strangers.” you snapped at him.

“Fair enough, I’ll just call you darlin” he clicks his tongue.

“Whatever,” he lets out an airy laugh from your feisty attitude.

“So tell me, Darlin, why are you crying?”

“It’s none of your business,” you mutter.

“It’s not, and I’m not forcing you to tell me.” he inhales the smoke, flicking the ashes on the cold, hard cement.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me, darlin'. I understand more than most people.” even though you didn’t look up, you could feel his eyes looking down on you.

You pull up your sleeve, showing him the cuts and bruises on your left arm.

His breath gets caught in his throat at the familiar sight.

“I told you you wouldn’t understand.” you roll your sleeve back down. You should have never told him in the first place. You have no idea why you were even still talking to him.

“No, I do understand,” he’s quick to correct you.

“You’re not acting like it.”

“I just- I’m sorry, it reminds me of someone I used to know, that’s all.” he felt his heart ache at the memory despite how many years it’s been.

“Who?” You wonder, feeling somewhat curious.

“A girl.” he looks off into the distance, taking a puff of his cigarette.

“What is she like?” You ask.

“I don’t think words could describe what she’s like, but if I had to try, I’d say beautiful, someone who gave me a reason to keep going, different but different in the best way possible, the sweetest girl you’d even meet with the bitterest smile you’d ever see” his tone drops to that of a whisper at the last few words he spoke to you.

“She must be really important to you,” you say, feeling envious. You wished you had someone that saw you that same way.

“She’s more than important. She’s my life.”

You take in his words, nodding in understanding.

“How about you? What’s the most important in your life?” He flips the question on you.

Your lips curve into a slight smile. “A boy”

“What is he like?” He asks, his tone just as curious as yours.

“Special. he was the only person in my life who cared about my happiness,” you smile sadly.

“Was? Where is he now?”

“One day, he just disappeared without a trace and without a goodbye. To this day, I still think about him.” you nibble on your lip trying to hold back more tears.

“I guess we all have that one special person we can never forget,” he sympathizes with you.

“Why am I even telling you this?” You scold yourself internally.

“Now that, I don’t understand,” he chuckles softly. “But I’m glad you did.”

“I should get going now.”

“Too bad, I was having fun.” You stare at him as he drops the cigarette bud, stomping it into the ground and putting out the small orange embers. “Goodnight, darlin',” he says as his tall, slender figure slowly disappears into the windy night.

Standing up, you take heavy steps up the pathway and back to your home.

Heeseung walked the streets alone to clear his mind, or at least that’s what his psychiatrist used to tell him.

He didn’t see the point in it. There was nothing comforting or mind-clearing about walking nevertheless, he did it anyway cause he still enjoyed the silence of the night.

However, the encounter he had tonight was somewhat peaceful, and it gave him a sense of comfort, a comfort that he hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe cause he hadn’t talked to anyone outside of the walls of the institution since ten years ago when he was admitted by his own parents.

His parents who never paid him any attention. He tried his hardest to earn their praise, studying without breaks, picking up piano, and becoming the captain of the basketball team, but nothing was good enough. They always looked over him, and his older brother got all the praise. Sure, heeseung wasn’t nearly as accomplished as his brother, but there wasn’t a need to compare when they both did well for themselves. At least, that’s how he saw it.

It was only one day he had finally had enough he had just got offered to sing for the schools band at an event in town and when he told his mother and father they just laughed in his face, and he’ll never forget what his father said to him. “It’s a miracle they would even want a talentless dim wit like you,” and that was it. At that moment, he knew they didn’t care.

But he still tried to make them care cause he didn’t want to believe the cruel reality of being the black sheep of the family and being compared to his brother all the time.

It was an extreme method, but he threatened to take his own life just so they would look in his direction, and they somewhat did, but not the way he wanted them to. After the incident, he overheard them both having a conversation about what happened. “I always knew he had issues,” he could faintly hear his mother's voice say, and that was the end of it. After that, he was certain they didn’t care and never would and that cry for help ultimately led to him getting treatment for mental health issues that he never even had to begin with, but what hurt the most was that they didn’t even ask what was wrong or if they could help. As a small boy all he ever wanted was to make his parents proud and to make them care, but no matter what, he just couldn’t.

Even though it was technically his fault why he ended up in the ward, he still blames them for everything.

Especially for taking him away from the one thing he cared about most, his friend, his crush, the only person on the planet that made him feel like he was special. He had to leave her so much sooner than he had ever expected.

He remembers everything like it was just yesterday, but unfortunately for him, it wasn’t. Today was the official mark. The last day he saw her was ten years ago.

The highlight of his day was seeing her at the swing set. She always sat there during break, swaying her legs back and forth as she stared at the ground meaninglessly. For some unknown reason, heeseung was drawn to her like a magnet, maybe it’s cause he used to sit on the same swing set every day with that same meaningless stare after being bullied.

He was bullied in school for not being smart enough, hit by his father for being a “failure,” and rebuked by his mother for smoking and doing drugs, which was his first helpless cry for attention, but that, unfortunately, turned into a habit and slowly an addiction and every day he swore it was his last pack but the full ashtray in his car said otherwise.

He finds himself reaching in his coat pocket for another tobacco-filled stick. He pats his butt pocket in search of his lighter, that was nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” he mutters with the cigarette resting on his moist lip. He remembered setting it down on the sidewalk where he was talking to you, and he turned in the opposite direction to where you both talked moments ago.

Spotting his shiny silver lighter on the sidewalk, he dusts it off, holding it to the end of his cigarette, cupping the small flame to shield it from the night wind. Before he could even take the first puff, he heard a loud scream in the distance, causing his cigarette to fall to the now rain-covered ground.

“Y/n! What did I tell you about staying out this late!” He hears a male voice just a few feet away, and if he’s not mistaken, you were the same girl he talked to not even fifteen minutes ago. He stares at the scene before him, watching the male, who he assumed was your father, raising his hand and landing a hard slap against your cheek. He flinched at the sound that echoed throughout the silent night. He squeezed his eyes shut. That one sound alone brought back so many memories that he didn’t want to remember.

So many memories he wished to forget.

He could hear your loud sobs, and the door slammed a few seconds later. He continued his not-so-mind-clearing walk back home normally. He would count each step he took on his way back, but no matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sound of your cries. It haunted him until he reached home, laying in his bed, and even when his head hit his pillow, he could still hear the pain in your voice. He was reminded of the time he had faced the same abuse years ago. Tears rolled down his cheek, staining his pillow, and that night, he didn’t get not even one minute of sleep.

Oddly enough, heeseung found himself taking the same path home as last night, which was unusual because he’d always find a new path home every night, but tonight, it’s like his feet were taking him back to you. What was even more odd was the small smile that crept up on his solemn features when he saw you sat alone with your knees to your chest.

It’s been ages since he genuinely smiled.

“So we meet again, darlin',” you hear his familiar voice, soon realizing it was the man from last night. He sits next to you, and for a moment, you feel like you never left the sidewalk, but the bruise on your left cheek is evidence that you did indeed leave the sidewalk and go home that night.

You quickly look up, meeting his eyes for the first time, then looking back down to hide the cuts and scrapes on your face.

Before you could look away, he had already seen the bruises on your delicate face.

“You should probably clean your wounds. They won’t heal properly if you don’t, and I’m sure you have enough scars already.” he didn’t just mean the ones on your body but the ones on your heart, too.

“How did yo-“ You cut yourself off, realizing that he must have seen them when you glanced up at him.

“Wait here.” he walks down a few blocks to a small gas station, grabbing ointment and bandages for your cuts.

“Will that be all?” The cashier behind the desk asks.

“One pack of Lo Crux.” he ponders on it for a moment, knowing a box would only last him a day, if that. “actually, make that two.” The cashier gives him a look, and heeseung could tell that look from anywhere, the look of judgement, but he no longer cared about the opinions of others. He gave up on people the day his parents gave up on him.

He pays for everything, exiting the store, lighting up a cigarette on his way back to you. “Here,” he hands you a red ring pop.

A small smile could be seen on your lips if it wasn’t so dark, but it was still there. “Thank you,” you mutter. For a moment, you felt like you went back to your childhood, remembering the small boy who always sat next to you. He would give you a red ring pop whenever you looked sad, which was every day, you missed him. He was the only person who was ever kind to you, but when you were both in fifth grade, he disappeared and never came back. You went to the park and sat at the swing set every day, hoping he’d come back to you, but he never did.

“Don’t mention it.” somehow, your smile looked familiar. It held so much pain and happiness at the same time. It reminded him of the girl he told you about back in fifth grade that he used to have the biggest crush on. Unfortunately, she always looked so sad, he went to the corner shop every day just to spend his only allowance on a red ring pop. They always cheered him up when he was sad, so for the rest of his school days, he made it a point to give one to her just to make her smile.

He pulled out the first aid kit, dabbing off the dry, crusty blood on your lip as you whimpered in pain. “Shh, it won’t hurt for long, I promise,” he whispers as his warm breath fans your face.

You take a good look at his features up close. Admiring his handsome face, you happened to notice a small mole on the front of his ear in the same spot as the boy who always gave you a ring pop back in school. You shook your head slightly. There was no way it was him. It couldn’t be. You dismissed your delusional thoughts and focused back on his face.

He applied a small amount of ointment on the cleaned wounds and placed a bandage on them. He stared deeply into your eyes, examining your face. He knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help but look at you. Even with a tear-stained face and cuts all over, you still looked stunning to him. “All done,” he says breathlessly, using every last bit of his strength to pull away from you even though you felt like a magnet sucking him in.

“Why?” You had no idea why this stranger was caring for you, especially after your parents said that you were incapable of being loved and cared for.

“Why what?” He says, shifting his eyes away from you after what felt like an eternity for him.

“This,” you point to the band-aid on your face.

“Cause you were hurt, and I don’t like when people are hurt.” he lights another cigarette that’s already two in less than ten minutes.

Yes, you were counting.

“So why are you hurting yourself?” You ask, noticing that every moment you spent with him up till now, he had a cigarette.

His eyebrows clash together in confusion. “hmm?” He replies.

You motioned toward the two packs of cigarettes he just bought.

“Oh, hard habit to break, I guess.” He laughs breathily, “But being alone on this earth is what hurts me the most,” He smiles sadly, looking at the cloudy night sky.

“Why does being on this earth hurt you?” You ask, intrigued by the young gentleman.

“Darlin, you ask too many questions.” He shifted uncomfortably. “How about this a question for a question that way, it’s even, deal?”

You nodded your head like a child.

He resumes right where you left off, “Cause this earth is unfair, and it hurts knowing that the one person who needed me the most is somewhere out there and I’ll never see her again,”

“I’m sorry you have to go through that.” you look at him, eyes full of sincerity.

“It’s not your fault, so tell me, why are you always out here alone?”

Before you could answer, you saw the lights from your house turn on. Your mother was looking out the blinds, waiting for you to come back inside.

You never understood why they wanted a curfew for you. It’s not like they cared about you or your safety.

“Sorry, I have to go now. Will you be out tomorrow?” You stand up, and he joins you shortly after.

“Sure, and no need for an apology, darlin, same spot?” He asks. He didn’t exactly plan on coming back, but since you mentioned it and he had nothing better to do, he supposed he’d come back.

Something about him saying “same spot” sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

“Same spot,” you confirm, turning around getting ready to leave. Before you leave, you realize you still didn’t catch his name.

“Wait! I never got your name,” you yell into the night, watching as he turns around from the sound of your voice.

He takes his hands out of his coat pockets, throwing them in the air as the cold breeze flows through his black hair and long trench coat. “darlin',” he says. A few beats of silence ensue, making your heart beat faster in anticipation as you shiver slightly from the cold. “I’m nobody and everything to someone,” he shouts, a wide smile making its way to his face.

“What does that mean?” You shout back.

“Whatever you want it to mean, have a good night, Darlin.” he turns around with a hearty chuckle, lighting up another cigarette before putting his hands back in his pockets and counting his steps all the way home.

Just like he said he would, he sat next to you on the sidewalk. The conversation started right where it left off.

“It’s my turn, darlin.” His voice hangs in the air for a moment before you reply.

“I sit out here alone 'cause the silence brings me peace, and the cold air reminds me to feel.”

“Why do you need to be reminded to feel?” he asks with a curiousness in his tone.

A small chuckle bubbles in your chest. It was the first time in a long time that you genuinely laughed. “I think it’s my turn.”

He smiled to himself. “You’re right.”

“Why did you decide to stop and talk to me?”

“I can’t put a finger on it, but something about you reminds me of someone I used to know so you could say,” he pauses, flicking his lighter open and taking a puff of his third cigarette of the night as he exhales the smoke and turns to look at you. “I was drawn to you.”

It took you a minute to compose your thoughts. His gaze was so intense that you could have been trapped in it if you looked for too long. “Now that you mention it, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

“Yeah? Who do I remind you of, Darlin?” He says intrigued.

“He was the boy I told you about before. He was from my class. He’d visit me at the swing set every day after school. There was one thing he did that I’ll never forget, whenever I was sad, he would always give me a red ring pop just like the one you gave me a few nights ago. When it was time for us to go home, he’d always ask same spot. And I’d reply, same spot.” You smiled at one of your happiest memories, and then it dawned on you why him saying same spot felt so familiar, but you still shrugged it off. You figured your mind was just playing tricks on you.

Heeseung froze right where he sat, unable to move, the red ring pop, the swing set, your sad smile. He remembered it all as he exhaled a deep breath. “what was the boy's name?” He asks with a shaky breath.

“You’re asking too many questions again.” you laugh but answer him nevertheless. “Heeseung, Lee heeseung,” you say with a bright and fond smile.

He stares at your face for a good minute. The corners of his lips turn into a frown as his eyes sparkle with tears. He drops his cigarette from his fingers, pulling you into the tightest hug while crying on your shoulder. You very slowly hug him back, even though you were extremely confused by the sudden action.

After his cries settled down a little, he said something that you wouldn’t believe not even in a million years. “y/n, it’s me, heeseung.” he pulled away from the hug to wipe his tears.

Now it was your turn to freeze right in your spot. “n-no, it can’t be you,” your eyes watered with tears replicating his.

He looked different. His skin was pale. He didn’t have his same bowl cut. He had an undercut with a scratch design on the side. His baby face was gone, his jaw was sharper and more defined. The sparkle that used to be in his eyes was now dimmed to that of nothing, and yet, behind everything else, you could still see the small boy who visited you at the park every day.

“I missed you so much.” he took your hands in his, squeezing them lightly.

You pull your hands away from his grasp, making him look at you with hurt and confusion written all over his face. “if you missed me, you wouldn’t have ever left me alone. You knew I needed you.” instead of feeling happy about seeing him, you felt angry remembering how he left you all alone when you were at your absolute lowest.

“Y/n, no, it’s not like that. I swear to you, if it was my choice, I would have never left you.” he holds your shoulders, making you look at him. “Please let me give you the explanation you deserve after all these years,” he pleads with you because he couldn’t lose you after just finding you again.

You chewed on your bottom lip, giving him a small nod after contemplating his words.

“I never told you this, but I was having a very tough time back then. Even though I didn’t show it, I was failing in school. I went through the same abuse as you every night from my parents. I turned to smoking and drugs as an escape and a cry for help, but nothing worked. It got so bad I threatened to take my own life, and they sent me to a mental institution. That’s why I didn’t come to see you anymore. It wasn’t cause I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t.” He rambles on with desperation in his voice. “Y/n, you were the only person in this fucked up world that made me feel like living, if I had a choice, I would have stayed by your side forever.” He explains with nothing but sincerity.

No.

Not heeseung, not the little loving, caring boy that made you smile every day, you never knew that he was hurting on the inside. Why out of everyone on this god-forsaken earth? Why him? He didn’t deserve it.

“Y/n, you have to believe me. I-I’d never leave you. I loved you,” his voice cracked while more tears trickled down his face. “I still love you.” he cupped your face, wiping the tears from your cheek as he cracked the tiniest smile. “I promised you I was going to marry you when we got older, remember?”

You felt overwhelmed. There was so much information coming at you that you could barely process it, but you didn’t need to process it. All that mattered was that he was back, Lee Heeseung was back, and he was everything that you ever needed. “Yeah, I remember,” you smile softly at him.

Your childhood friend and first love came back to you and confessed that he loves you, too. Just when you thought your life was all but over, he came back to you.

“Heeseung, I believe you, and I love you too. I’ve always loved you ever since we were little when you gave me my first kiss.” you pulled him into a hug, never ever wanting to let him go.

“I can’t believe we found each other again.” he hugs you so tightly. You could feel his how fast his heart was beating against your chest. You could have almost mistaken it for your own.

“You have no idea how much I needed you these past years.” you hug him back even tighter.

“Me too, y/n.” he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Me too,” he says, patting your back comfortingly. “I’m here now.”

The only sound to be heard was the gentle wind blowing softly against the trees as you both reunited with each other after so many long insufferable years.

“Your hugs still feel the same, just a little bit stronger,” he chuckles.

“Sorry,” you laugh, along with him loosening your grip.

He contemplates his next words carefully.

“It still happens, doesn’t it?” Even as a young boy, he knew what your parents did to you, and he despised them for it. He found out when you came to school on the first day, it was 90 degrees outside, and you were wearing a sweater. He noticed immediately when you grabbed the chains on the swing, your sleeves rolled down just enough for him to see scars and fresh bruises, and after that, it became his mission to make you forget and to make you smile.

“Every night,” you whisper.

“Why do you stay?” he whispers.

“Cause they’re still my parents,” you cuddled up to him closer.

He knew exactly what that feeling was like. “Come with me just for the night.” he rubs your back soothingly.

“If they find out, they’ll kill me.”

“Then they don’t have to find out I’ll bring you back early in the morning, trust me?”

“I trust you.”

And trust him, you did with your whole entire life.

You both walk hand in hand to his house, the only sound coming from both your footsteps on the cold cement.

“Like yesterday,” he pauses for a second. “You and me, it feels just like yesterday. Your hands feel the same, your laugh sounds the same, and your smile is still the prettiest. I could swear that I’m ten years old again.” he tightens the grip he had on your hand.

You couldn’t deny it. It felt just the same, “me too,” you lean on his shoulder.

When you both arrive at his doorstep walking in, you see nothing but an empty room with white walls, one chair, and a small table very minimalistic, almost like he had just moved in.

“Wh-“ You didn’t finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. He cupped your cheeks gently while kissing you ever so softly. You instinctively responded to the kiss, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him back with the same devotion.

He pulled away to take a breath and when he opened his eyes. he was even shocked to see your face so close to his something must have come over him, and he had zero self-control over what just happened. “I honestly don’t know where that came from. I'm so sorry.” before he could even continue apologizing, you were already initiating another kiss.

You bring his face mere inches away from yours. “Don’t be,” you say against his lips, pulling him closer for a more heated kiss than the last.

He groaned into the kiss, gripping your waist carefully. “y/n,” he swallows thickly, touching his forehead to yours with his eyes closed. “We’re not kids anymore. If we continue like this, just kissing won’t be enough,” he warns you cause he knew if things went further, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, or at least he wouldn’t want to.

“Then let’s do more than just kiss.” he picks you up, taking you to his room.

You both take turns riding each other’s clothes, and you lay back on his bed, slightly covering your chest with your hands.

“There’s no need to cover up. You’re beautiful.” he gently takes your hands away from your chest, lacing your fingers with his while he hovers over you, his eyes never leaving yours for a second.

He pins your clasped hands to the mattress, and you wrap your legs around his back while he leaves open-mouth kisses all over your neck. “Heeseung,” you moan softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks and your body flush with desire.

He works his way down lower, swirling his tongue around your erect nipples as you tug on his hair in search of anything to grip onto.

You tangled your hands in his hair, making him emit a soft moan. He ghosts his fingers along your sides, a shiver slowly running up your spine as he leaves a trail of wet kisses along your abdomen. Slowly continuing his way between your legs, he placed three small experimental kisses on your pubic bone before giving your clit a soft lick. The feeling makes your back arch and your toes curl as he continues to lick your folds. While putting your legs over his shoulders, he rests his palms on your lower stomach, tracing his fingers all the way up to your sensitive breasts, giving them both a light squeeze as he uses his thumb to press down on your nipples, rubbing them in small circles.

He laps at your folds, getting a taste of your arousal that begins to leak out. The tip of his pointy nose brushes against your clit, adding even more pleasure. You could feel yourself getting close already. He uses his left hand to stick two fingers inside you easily from how wet you have gotten. He moves his fingers in and out of you while making a scissoring motion to open you up for him.

When he felt your walls tightening on his digits, he pumped his fingers inside you faster while sucking on your clit to make you reach your climax.

Your legs began to shake from the strong feeling of your impending orgasm. You whimper his name quietly when he brings you to complete bliss as he slows the pace of his fingers, calming you from your state of pure ecstasy.

He climbs above you on the bed, moaning softly when his wet tip rubs against your thigh. He leans down to place a loving kiss on your sweet lips. “Still the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” he runs his thumb along your jawline, taking in your beauty mixed with all the little flaws.

You look deeply into his eyes, feeling so many emotions that you couldn’t even explain. “I love you,” you say, encircling your arms around his thin waist.

He buried his face in your neck to hide the little tears that had formed in his eyes. He dreamt of you saying those words, but he could have never imagined his dream would ever come true. “I love you too,” he says near your ear, his voice barely above a whisper.

He holds himself up, looking at you briefly before he lined himself up with your entrance. Pushing his tip past your folds as slow and gentle as possible.

You clawed at his back from the slight pain of the intrusion as he pecked your forehead sweetly.

At the first sound of discomfort you made, he immediately stopped. “I’m sorry I should have asked sooner, but Is this your first time?” You nod your head without making any eye contact with him.

“Hey, look at me.” he tilts your chin, making you look at him. “It’s mine too. It’s okay. We’ll go as slow as we want. We have all night.” he gently rocks his hips back and forth to get you used to the indescribable feeling. He continues at a slow pace until he feels you starting to relax. “That’s it, just breathe and relax. It’ll fade away soon, I promise.” he guides you through the nerve-racking experience with his slow gentle strokes and soft voice. You follow his instructions, taking, steady breaths, just like he promised. The pain soon faded, and you felt like you needed something more. It didn’t take him long to realize, and he went a bit faster before pulling all the way out, leaving in just the tip and pushing back in all the way until he was sheathed in the deepest part of you.

“You feel like a dream.” he sets the perfect rhythm slow enough to feel every inch of his shaft but fast enough for it to be the most pleasurable feeling you’ve both ever felt.

“Heeseung,” you whimper, scratching at his back lightly.

“Careful, darlin',” he warns you in a delicate voice.

You caressed his back over the part you had scratched. Your eyebrows creased, feeling the scared and resin skin against your fingertips.

He takes both your wrists in his hands, placing them lower around his waist to hide his wounds, and puts your legs on his shoulders, aiming his thrusts slightly upward inside you at the perfect angle, caressing your spot each time.

“I-is this okay? Does that feel good?” he grunts lowly, not being able to speak properly from the way your walls were gripping him so tightly.

“It feels perfect. You’re perfect.” you hug his body closer to yours.

He lowers his head, connecting your lips with his in a passionate kiss. Your warm breath tickles his face causing him to smile through the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours, reaching a hand down to your clit, rubbing up and down, matching the perfect pace of his strokes.

“Mmm, heeseung,” you whine against his lips, clenching down on him tightly as your second orgasm of the night washes over you all at the hands of your childhood crush.

“Y/n, I love you s-so much,” he says in a hushed voice, not being able to hold back anymore, releasing his seed deep inside you as the pulsation of your walls coaxed out every last drop of his love for you.

“I love you too,” you tell him wholeheartedly, giving him one final peck on his quivering lips. You wipe away a few tears from his cheek as he lowers your legs, relishing in the feeling of your throbbing walls against his shaft that guided him through the blissful journey that was you.

He gently removes himself from you, grabbing a few tissues on his nightstand to clean you off a bit. He cuddles up next to you once he’s finished cleaning you up.

“I don’t want you to go,” he pouts, hugging you with his arms and legs.

“Me neither, but if my parents found out, it wouldn’t be good.” You play with his bangs.

“Okay,” he says disappointedly, “I’ll walk you back home.” Somehow, he manages to finally let you out of his hold.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine-“ he places his index finger on your lips, cutting you off.

“I’m walking you home,” he says firmly.

Once you both finished getting dressed, you walked back to your home, which was many blocks away from his house.

Unfortunately, the walk felt so short, if you had it your way, you’d walk into forever with him.

“Well, I guess this is it, darlin.” he took your cold hands in his, swinging them back and forth, not wanting to let you go.

“Don’t be sad, hee I’ll wait for you tomorrow, same spot?” you kissed his cheek.

He smiled widely at the nickname you gave him all those years ago. His eyes crinkle into those cute little crescents you fell in love with all the way back in fifth grade. “Same spot.” he finally let you walk up to your door, waiting for you to get in safely.

He turns on his heels, walking alone in the dark. He takes heavy steps back home, and he can’t wait till tomorrow to see you again.

Out of habit, he reaches into his pocket, taking out a cigarette. Right before he strikes his lighter, he puts the cigarette back inside the box, choosing to count his footsteps instead of indulging in his unhealthy habit.

Same spot that’s where heeseung sat waiting for you, tapping his foot impatiently while he nervously puffs on his 7th cigarette while waiting nearly an hour for you.

You made your way to the same spot as every night, and heeseung was already waiting for you on the sidewalk.

He stood up to bring you in for a hug, but his hand landed right on a fresh bruise, causing you to wince in pain.

“What’s wrong? Did they?” He says softly, not wanting to upset you.

You nodded your head weakly.

He walked in the direction of your house, but you quickly held him back. “don’t.”

“They can’t just get away with that,” he says, trying his best to remain level-headed.

“Let’s not make this about them right now. I just want to be with you.” you cup his cheeks, placing a short kiss on his pouty lips.

“But-“ you cut him off with another kiss. He huffs in annoyance but still gives in to your wishes. “Fine, but you’re coming to my place. I’m not letting you stay with them.” he grabs your hand a bit harshly, but you know it wasn’t his intention and that he was just upset.

Finally, when you both reach his house, you enter his bedroom, and it instantly makes you feel safe.

You two lay together in his bed, comforting each other. “I still can’t believe it’s really you,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Me neither.” You lace your fingers with his, placing a kiss on the back of his hand. “you know I waited for you every day, but you never came back.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and places a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault,” you assure him.

“I’m still sorry.” That was Lee Heeseung, too good, too caring for this cruel world, that he’d apologize for someone else behavior.

“You’re too good for your own good.” he lets out an airy laugh. “That’s why I love you cause no matter what happened, you always stayed the same. You never stopped caring for others, and you never stopped caring for me.”

“Don’t give me too much credit. I’ve never cared for anyone else the way I care for you, not even myself,” he tells you truthfully.

“I wonder what it would have been like,” you ask, caressing his knuckles with your thumb, “if you never had to leave.”

“I would have asked you to be my girlfriend. I would’ve left home sooner. I’d take you far away from here and show you what real love feels like and give you the life that you deserve.”

“Is it too late?” You ask.

“Too late for what?”

“For us,” you say, looking up at him with nothing but hope in your eyes.

“Darlin, it’s never too late. Just tell me when and where, and we can go. We can leave all of this behind. have the future we deserve and a chance at life that we never had cause our parents hate us.”

“I can’t leave them behind.”

“I think you’re too good for your own good, Darlin. They don’t deserve your love. Think about what makes you happy. I can’t promise you a life full of happiness cause this world works in unexplainable ways, but if you choose me, I can give you the one thing they can’t…” he tilts your head up, making you look at him, his eyes full of hope as he places a meaningful kiss to your soft lips and leans back stroking your cheek with his thumb uttering one word and emotion that you’ve never felt until you met him. “love”

“Can I have some time to think about it?” the idea sounded amazing. He’s all you’ve ever wanted, all you ever needed and to live a life with him full of love would be a dream come true.

“Take all the time you need. I left you before, but I’ll never leave you again. I’ll be there whenever you need me,” he promised.

“I love you so much I don’t deserve you,” you admit to him.

“I love you too, and Darlin, trust me when I say that you deserve way more than me.”

“I don’t want anyone more than you. You’re enough for me.” you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest and listening to his rhymatic heartbeat.

He stroked your back soothingly until you both drifted off to sleep a while later.

You woke up next to heeseung, who was now shirtless and pants less, then you remembered falling asleep before him, so he must have changed when you were sleeping.

Getting up, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. You close the door quietly so as not to wake him.

You open the cabinets, looking to see if maybe he has an extra toothbrush. To your luck, he did when you reached for it, a small packet of pills fell into the sink.

You grab the packet and examine the pills. There was no indication of what the pills were, but you could only assume the worst. Making your way out of the bathroom, you approach his peaceful figure, shaking him awake when he doesn’t move. You panicked, thinking he might have done something while you were asleep. You start to shake him more aggressively, hitting his chest for him to wake up.

“Ow ow ow, I’m awake. I’m awake. Just stop hitting me,” he laughs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

You hugged on to him for dear life, bawling your eyes out. “hey, what’s wrong? Did you miss me that much?” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I-I thought,” you stutter, unable to form any sentences cause what you thought he did while you were asleep.

“Thought what? Tell me, Darlin?” You show him the packet of pills, and his heart nearly drops at the sight he remembers the exact time and date he bought those. He had planned to overdose and kill himself he sat at a ledge as his legs dangle above the lake. He had the pills in his trembling hand, thinking back to all the times his father said he was useless and, his mother said she regretted giving birth to him, his teacher said he was waste of time, and his psychiatrist said maybe it was his fault for why his father beat him all of those thoughts were enough to make him want to end it all he held the pills to his mouth. But before he took them, he remembered you, the only person that ever needed him. He thinks back to the first time he gave you a red ring pop, the way your face lit up, and your smile gave him hope that even in sadness, you can still smile even if you don’t feel needed. Someone needs you, and that thought made him put the pills back in his pocket. He kept them in his cabinet as a daily reminder that he stayed on this earth for you.

“You don’t have to worry, Darlin. I told you I’ll never leave you again, and that’s a promise.”

You continued to sob uncontrollably into his chest. It took a good fifteen minutes for you to finally stop, and even then, your breaths were still labored and shaky.

“How did you find those anyways?” He asked, stroking your head.

“I just was l-looking for a spare toothbrush a-and I-I.” You broke down in tears again. He felt so bad for the chuckle he let out, but he found it too adorable how much you cared for him.

“Did you find one?” You nodded your head. “good, now go finish up. I’ll be waiting for you.” he pinched your cheek with a smile on his face. “I love you, and I swear I’d never ever think about doing that now that I’m with you, okay, Darlin?”

“Okay, I love you too.” You kiss him one last time before leaving.

You finished brushing your teeth and decided to take a shower as well. Once you were done, you entered the bedroom, seeing Heeseung leaning up against the headboard with a cigarette between his lips, legs slightly spread open, and he was still without any clothes.

“Hey, darlin', you took long enough,” he pouted.

“I decided to take a shower, too.”

“I can see that,” he bites his lower lip staring at your towel clad body. “Come here,” he says and pats his thigh.

You walk over to him, straddling his lap as your core comes in contact with his clothed cock. He sneaks his hands under your towel and grips your thighs, squeezing on the soft flesh as you rest your hands on his shoulders. He gently rocks you back and forth on his cock. “You smell really good.”

“Thank you.” You take your towel off, revealing your naked body. His tongue pokes the side of his cheek at the sight of your bare pussy, and you slowly grind on his lap, moaning from the feeling of his semi-hard cock.

You hum as he moves his hands to your chest, rubbing your breasts while his cigarette rests between his index and middle fingers.

He puts his hands on your lower back, making you grind on him harder.

“Fuck” he tilts his head back when he feels your wetness dampening his hard-on through his boxers.

You reach down between your bodies, grabbing his cock out through the small hole in his boxers as you guide his length, sliding him back and forth through your folds to get his cock wet.

He brought his cigarette to his mouth, taking a small puff, watching your each and every movement with hooded eyes.

You push the tip in, slowly sinking down on his cock inch by inch. “So fucking good” he rubs a hand over his face in disbelief at how tight and wet you were.

You start out slowly getting used to this feeling of him stretching you out. You lower yourself on his cock more, allowing his tip to brush against your sweet spot. “Heeseung,” you moan quietly.

The room is silent other than the wet sounds of your pussy when you bounce up and down on his dick.

You take the cigarette from between his lips, putting it to your own mouth before taking an inhale as you pick up the pace. “y/n,” he moans, holding your waist to help you ride him even faster, and he knows he's not going to last very long. You take a deep exhale, and the smoke clouds over your face before revealing the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, your lips slightly parted, chest covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your breasts bouncing up and down each time you take in his cock deeper. “Darlin, you’re perfect.”

You put the cigarette on the small ashtray on his nightstand to wrap your arms around his neck. You leaned down, placing a kiss on his lips as you moved your hands to the headboard to gain more leverage to fuck yourself on his cock at a much better angle. The slight position switch had him going feral. “Hee, oh god,” he grits his teeth at the sound of your desperate moans that make his cock twitch.

“I'm almost there,” he stutters out from the intense feeling of his cock getting harder as his high gets nearer.

He licks his thumb and reaches down to rub your clit in fast circles so you can both cum at the same time. You throw your head back, completely lost in the feeling of his big dick inside you.

“O-oh” The tight clenching of your walls made him lose it as his cum paints your sensitive throbbing walls.

“Heeseung,” you moaned loudly at the warmth from his release invading you, making you let go and tighten around his cock harshly as your pussy throbbed with each passing second you continued riding him till you both couldn’t take the overstimulation anymore.

He leans his head back, eyes tightly closed as he swallows thickly, feeling his throat parched from all the moaning and heavy breathing.

You place your hands on his chest, leaning down to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. When you pull away, his eyes slowly open as he takes a deep breath. He laughs breathily, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your chest.

You cradle his head in your hands, running your fingers through his dampened hair. “do you want to shower?” You say in a hushed whisper.

He hums into your chest, tickling you and making little goosebumps form all over your body. “Only if you come with me.”

“Of course,” you kiss his damp head before lifting yourself off him carefully. You didn’t make a big deal out of cleaning up afterward cause you were headed to the shower anyway.

You both make your way to his shower. He turns his back to you, turning on the water. A surprised gasp escapes you when you see every inch of his back covered in scars. Tears instantly began to form in your eyes.

He hears your gasp and turns around to hide his back from you. He didn’t want you to see them cause he thought they were a sign of weakness.

“Why are you hiding them?” You ask.

“Cause I don’t want you to think I’m weak,” he says shamefully, looking down at his feet.

You place your hands on his shoulders, carefully turning him around so you can see his back. “what are you doing?” He tries to turn around, but you hold his waist, keeping him still.

“You’re not weak,” you kiss one of the many resin scars on his back. “You’re strong.” you kiss another one between his shoulder blades. “this is proof.” you rest your head against his back, feeling his shoulders trembling and a few quiet sobs coming from him as you hold his waist tighter, a few tears make their way down your cheek. “you’re the strongest person I know,” you say with your voice cracking at the end. “And I’m so sorry this happened to you,”

That’s when he finally lets it all out. He holds your arms that are wrapped around his waist tightly as the sounds of his cries echo off the tiles in the shower. Tears continuously fall from his eyes, mixing together with the warm water from the shower that spirals down the drain.

You hold him in silence until his cries finally start to fade away. He sniffles one last teardrop falling off the tip of his nose as he turns to you, pressing a kiss to your lips, feeling like a weight had been lifted off him now that he had someone to share his pain with. He cups your cheeks in his palms, wiping your tears away. “let’s not cry anymore. We’ve done enough of that for the day,” he laughs, causing you to laugh along with him. Now that the atmosphere was lightened, you both took turns washing each other’s bodies, feeling peace from the sound of the water beads that hit the tile.

Eventually, you both step out of the shower, drying each other off and going back to bed to spend as much time together as possible. “I don’t have any clothes,” you pout.

“Here, take my shirt.” he hands you a plain white oversized shirt that goes down to your knees.

He puts on a pair of black boxer briefs and joins you on the bed. “when do you have to be back by?” He holds your hand, kissing the back of it, looking at you with his big, brown, beautiful eyes.

“Not for another hour.”

“Good.” he lays down on the bed, throwing away the dirty sheets and pulling the blankets over you both, he opens his arms wide for you to cuddle him.

You both lay in complete silence, holding one another. No words needed to be spoken at that moment. As your hand rested on his chest and he stroked your arm, you both felt content.

Just as heeseung’s eyes began to close, a loud bang startled him from his resting state.

“Y/n! Open this door right now. I know you’re in there!”

You could recognize that voice from anywhere it was your father. “How did he find me?” Your heart raced, and tears welled in your eyes as you held on to heeseung as tightly as possible.

“I don’t know.” heeseung couldn’t help but feel a bit scared himself, but he knew he had to be strong for you. He tried to get up from the bed, but your grip was strong on him. “Darlin, I got you. It’s gonna be alright, I promise.” he held your shoulders, looking at your eyes deeply.

You nodded your head, letting him go to answer the door.

He answers the door to be met with your father face to face. It was the first time he had been this close to him, and it took everything in him not to punch your dad till he was unconscious.

“Who are you, and where do you have my daughter?”

Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh. He had some nerve showing up and saying his daughter when he had never treated you like that since you were born, “I’m nobody to you, and y/n is safe with me, so you can leave.”

“You fucking bastard, who are you to tell me what to do?” Your father raised his fist, punching heeseung square in the jaw.

Heeseung stood still, not even flinching from the impact of the punch. If there was one thing he could take, it was getting hit. “You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”

Your father raised his fist yet again, but heeseung was quick enough to catch it. “I don’t think you understood, so I’ll tell you again.” heeseung squeezed your father's fist tightly. “leave.”

You held your head in your hands, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. You couldn’t take it anymore. heeseung got hurt because of you, and your father was angry all because of you. You had to end this now. You made your way to the door quietly. “Father, leave him alone. He has nothing to do with this.”

Your mother made an appearance from the hallway outside the door. Looking you up and down in disgust, “So this is what you leave home for to whore around? I always knew you were nothing but a little slut” she says with venom in her tone, taking in your half-naked appearance.

Heeseung was trying to be calm for you, but his resentment for your parents quickly overpowered that. “Don’t you dare fucking say that about her again,” he towers over your mother's frail frame.

“Or what? are you gonna hit me too?” Your mother taunted heeseung.

“I’ll never stoop to your level.” he unclenches his fist.

“Enough!” Your father raised his voice. “Y/n, get dressed. We’re leaving.

“She’s staying with me whether you two like it or not.” heeseung hid you behind his back, protecting you.

“I’d never leave my daughter with someone like you,” your mother chimed in.

“What is she to you then? your daughter? or a slut?” Heeseung used her own words against her.

Your mom raised her hand to slap heeseung, but he caught both her wrists, squeezing them but not enough to inflict any pain. “She. Is. Staying. With. me. I can take care of her better than the both of you combined. Does she look like she’s scared of me? Does she have any new bruises besides the ones you left her with last? I don’t fucking think so” Heeseung let go of your mother's wrist.

“Y/n, I won’t tell you again. Get dressed. We’re leaving,” you cower down at the sound of your dad's voice.

You tug on heeseung’s shirt, indicating for him to let you go.

Heeseung glared at the both of them before closing the door and looking at you.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious about going back,” he says in disbelief.

“Heeseung, just let me go,” you reply, completely defeated.

“No, I told you I’m never leaving you again.” he holds your face, making you stare into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You asked, heeseung with tears in your eyes, noticing the cut on his lip.

“Darlin, compared to what I’ve felt in the past that didn’t even tickle, your man can take a hit,” he chuckles.

You look at him, a smile forming on the corner of your lips. “I’m scared.”

“I know, and that’s okay.” he holds your hands, squeezing them gently. “Look at me.” he stares deeply into your eyes to show his sincerity. “I know I said I’d give you all the time you need, but right now, we don’t have time, and I need you to choose.”

“I can’t leave them behind.”

His heart shatters at the idea of you going back to them. “Darlin, I know it’s hard to leave. It was hard for me too, but if I had never left my parents, I don’t know where I’d be if I continued to let them abuse me, but I know one thing I would have never found you again. What I’m saying is maybe when you hurt for so long, you encounter something good. Maybe I’m that good. Maybe I’m that person to make you feel again, maybe I’m the one to give you the love you deserve cause hell, we both know you’re the most lovable person on earth.”

His words make you smile and realize that he’s right. You loved your parents to death, but it was hurting you. You couldn’t stay any longer. If they loved you, they would never treat you the way they have all these years, and heeseung made you realize that all these years of hurt were at the hands of your parents and he was the only one to ever make you happy even when he was hurting he still made sure to cheer you up everyday and go out of his way to make you smile there was no excuse for your parents even when times got hard they could still find a way to show you they cared and they never did, but heeseung showed up when you needed him the most, and the answer had never been more clear than it is now.

He cups your cheek in his palms. “Darlin, if I promised forever, would you run away with me?” He looks at you in hopes that you’ll give him the answer he so desperately needs.

“Yes,” you said with absolutely zero hesitation.

He presses his forehead against yours. “I promise”

Another loud bang was heard on the door. “Hurry up, or else the punishment will be doubled!”

The loud banging interrupted your moment together, but it was time to leave. heeseung put on his pants and quickly grabbed his keys, making his way towards the window. “come on,” he reached for your hand, helping you out the window and following you close behind.

You both ran to his car, and he started the engine, looking to his right side. “I love you.” he held your hand in his and sped off into the distance. He had no idea where he was headed, but anywhere was better than there.

“I love you too.”

Your father busts down the Door to see the sheer white curtain swaying back and forth and the window wide open “shit!” He yells, holding his head in his hands before he begins to destroy everything in the house, looking for any trace of something heeseung may have left behind, but he finds nothing.

Your mother sits down in the corner, crying her eyes out, rocking back and forth with her hands in her hair and deep, deep down inside, regretting everything that she had ever done to harm you. The only thing that brought her some type of comfort was the look of happiness in your eyes when that unknown boy protected you, and maybe he was right. Maybe he could take better care of you than both of them combined.

Heeseung drove for hours until he reached a hotel, parking in the empty lot. You both made your way to the desk, getting a single room. heeseung held your hand, walking you to room 205, unlocking the door with the key card. He let out a sound of relief once he got inside. He had been driving for 6 hours straight. You lay next to him on the bed, hugging his waist. “Are you okay, darlin?” He asks, holding you impossibly close.

“I think so.” you clutched onto his sweater, tears staining the fuzzy material.

“Do you think they’ll come looking for us?” heeseung says.

“Let’s hope they won’t.”

“Me too,” he sighs. “What do you want to do for the rest of the night?”

“Can we just sleep?” You look up at him through your wet eyelashes.

“Of course, Darlin, I love you.”

“I love you too, hee.”

The next morning, you wake up to the countless messages and voice recordings from your dad. Every last one of them contained hateful comments, and when you listened to the voicemail, you heard your father loud and clear telling you never to come back and that you weren’t his daughter anymore. You couldn’t help but tear up from the voicemail. Your own parents abandoned you without any remorse, and that broke your heart into pieces that could never be put back together.

Heeseung stirred in his sleep. The sound of your sorrowful cries woke him up. “Darlin, what’s wrong?” You handed him the phone, and he listened to the recording. He clenched his jaw, slamming the phone on the nightstand.

Even though he was absolutely furious, a part of him was still relieved that you wouldn’t be in their life anymore, but at the same time, it hurt him beyond words cause he knew just how much you were hurting.

“You’re better off without them.” he brings your trembling body into his arms.

“You think so?” You hug him back.

“Darlin, I know so.” he made a promise to himself then and there that he’d do anything it took to make you happy again.

“Heeseung, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been alone before.” You pour out your worries to him.

“And you’re still not alone. You have me forever. I promise even if you didn’t have me, you’d still make it on your own cause you’re the strongest person I know.”

“Heeseung, thank you,” you tell him sincerely. He’s really been there for you through so much and words couldn’t describe how thankful you were for him.

“No, darlin', thank you for everything. I’d never be here today if it wasn’t for you.”

“What do you mean?” You ask softly.

“I wanted to die when I was without you, and when I made the decision to take my own life, I thought about every memory I had with you right before I swallowed those pills you found. I remembered your smile and knowing that you were still out there waiting for me on this horrible earth is what kept me going, and the crazy hopes I'd meet you again, now here we are in each other's arms getting ready to spend forever with each other.”

“Hee-“

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m okay, we’re okay.” he sends a tiny smile your way.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, assuring yourself.

“Darlin, I know it’s soon but let’s try to move on. Let’s do something to celebrate our first day together. Hmm?

“Like what?”

“Anything you want,” he says enthusiastically.

“Surprise me”

“A surprise you will get.” he kissed your forehead softly before getting ready.

After you both got ready, heeseung and you walked to a small lake, hand in hand, feet dangling over a wooden bridge as you watched the sunset.

“I know this is crazy, but after I met you after all these years, I feel like living again.” he rests his head on your shoulder. “And strangely enough, living on this earth doesn’t hurt me anymore,” he admits.

“What hurts you the most now?” Your question takes you back to the day he came into your life again.

“The thought of losing you,” he whispers.

“Well, you don’t have to hurt anymore cause you’re never going to lose me.” You promise him.

Silence ensues as you both throw tiny pebbles into the lake, watching the small ripples they create.

“Hee?”

“Yeah, Darlin?”

“Thank you for making me feel again. Thank you for showing me what love truly feels like.”

He tried his hardest to hold back his tears but failed miserably. “thank you for letting me be that person for you.”

“Do you think we have a chance for a better life?”

“I know it’s hard to tell right now, but we already have a better life, darlin',” he softly caressed your knee.

“We do, don’t we?”

“Yes,” he kissed you briefly, “wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He stands up, dusting off his pants. You wait for him, watching the sunset, thinking about the future with him, and you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him by your side now and forever.

He came back shortly, hiding something behind his back.

He sat down next to you, handing you a red ring pop. “you haven’t smiled since we left.”

He was right. Your mind was too focused on everything else that it was hard to think about how you’d actually be spending the rest of your life with your best friend, your lover, and your savior.

You took off the wrapper, bringing the ring pop to your lips, the sweet taste bringing back so many memories, causing a smile to creep up on your face instantly, and heeseung watched you in silence, a smile finding its way to his face as well.

“That’s what I like to see, darlin.” He wrapped his arm around your waist as the cool breeze gave you both a sense of peace.

Obviously, things weren’t going to be perfect within the blink of an eye, but with him, you felt like it wouldn’t take long to get past all the bad memories and replace them with new ones.

Good ones.

Things would be hard, but at least now you had someone to confide in and be there for you when you needed someone the most. You’d always cherish him forever. Not a day would go by when you didn’t shower him with endless love and care.

Heeseung knew it would take some time for you, just like it took for him, but he was willing to wait. He spent ten years without you, so he could wait a few months for you to get back on your feet without a problem.

One thing he was for sure about was no matter what happened or how long it took, he’d wait for you cause you were worth every second, you saved him from the world, his parents, and himself, and he owed you his life for it.

“Y/n, will you be mine?” He says out of the blue.

“I’m already yours, hee,” you say, gazing into his eyes softly.

“I know, but I want to hear you say so. Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks in all seriousness.

“Yes, heeseung, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” You smile for the second time that day, and you swear you could get used to this.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” he says, reaching into his coat pocket and tossing his last pack of cigarettes into the lake throwing away the last bit of his old life.

“And I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.” You kiss his cheek.

“Look, I know it’s far from the perfect love story, but I swear to you I’ll do everything to make it as perfect as I can.”

“It’s already perfect hee, just you being here next to me right now is perfect.”

He looks at you, pulling you closer by the neck to give you a deep, loved, filled kiss.

He pulls away, smiling so wide that it almost hurts.

“Darlin, we have this earth to ourselves now. We can do anything we want whenever we want, however we want.”

“So, what’s the first thing that you want to do?” You ask, smiling at him.

“Walk into forever with you.” he looks at your sparkling eyes, taking the ring pop from out of your hand and placing it on your ring finger.

You kiss his lips one last time, leaning back slowly and opening your eyes as he smiles at you with a fond, loving look.

He stands up, takes your hand in his, and walks you down the length of the bridge. Right as the sun sets behind you, you both share one final kiss, sealing this moment in your hearts now and forever.

In this life and in the next, you’d always be by his side and he’d always be by yours.

“Welcome to forever, Darlin.”

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[ratgrinders]

anyways ivy embra post because on god if she wont get the scenes in canon ill imagine it myself

Ivy and Oisin were friends in middle school. Oisin was still scrawny and hadn't had his growth spurt yet and Ivy hadn't yet gotten her braces taken off. They meet each other in some group project or club or whatever, the setting doesn't matter, but what happens is you have these two children with the inherent shittiness of middle schoolers who maybe haven't had the easiest time making friends because their passive aggressiveness is too aggressive, their barbs not hidden. And they act the same way with this new, kind of nerdy looking stranger they meet and find a kindred spirit. All of a sudden you're 12/13 years old with an outlet for all the shittalking about your classmates you want. You stick together like glue, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you two because they all fuckin suck anyway, and you finally found someone who isn't a wuss and can give as good as they take.

Oisin gets better at hiding it though, being raised by a long family line of evil dragons who have had to hide their connections in plain sight will do that to you. Ivy never lost that edge around her though.

The first day of classes Freshman Year at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, Oisin's met with this group of randos, they seem competent enough, the tall sad one seems nice enough if a bit of a pushover and the small one with the ponytail seems to have her entire academic career planned out already. She's intent on the name the High Five Heroes, it's a pun, get it? Because there's five of them. But Oisin won't go anywhere without his best friend. He pulls Ivy over, and Ivy isn't having the best luck finding a party (she insults them saying why would she want to join a party with any of these losers anyway, when they're put off by one pointed comment too many). Oisin tells the others they could do well with a fighter, that they're sticking together. The tall one, the gnome, and the kobold don't seem to mind (or don't care), but the halfling seems to have swallowed a lemon. "Well, there's six of us now which throws off the entire point of the name, but that's fine! I don't care!" (she's stubborn and doesn't want to change it).

Ivy and Kipperlilly clash CONSTANTLY. Kipperlilly's specific brand of Type A nerdiness and uptightness clashes horrifically with Ivy's specific attitude of not giving a fuck and chronic need to get under people's skin. And yet, Kipperlilly's barely concealed rage and passive aggression leads that same realization Ivy had back in middle school, of having finally found a kindred spirit. If there's two things Kipperlilly and Ivy have in common, it's their initial impression driving most people away, and their need to externalize this jealousy and bad feelings as hatred and disdain for others. They LOVE gossiping. Ivy's always down to be a hater.

Corsica Jones, the fighter teacher, sees Ivy come in on the first day of classes, bow in hand, and is immediately reminded of the sister she lost, who is still missing. Every time she trains Ivy on her stance, on basic hand-to-hand, she's reminded of the times she taught her sister the very same things. She's worried, because Ivy always seems so closed off and not very engaged, so full of rage. Unfortunately Corsica's attempts to reach out and forge a connection are stopped in their infancy when instead the barbarian teacher takes an interest in her. "Well, at least she has support from someone on the faculty, even if it isn't me."

It's Oisin that kills her. They always go off as a pair anyway, and Oisin may have been acting off recently but who is she to judge a bit of anger. But a quick stab to the back, one Choice later, and all Ivy can think about is rage.

After the Mountains of Chaos, Ivy's disdain becomes Venomous. Suddenly its not fun gossip but outright Hatred, its saying words maximized for cruelty directly to the person's face, because there's a kind of sick vindication in hurting the people who rejected you for so long, even if they may not deserve it. She and Kipperlilly don't get along anymore, snide comments and petty jabs devolving into screaming matches and insults. She proposes the name Rat Grinders with Oisin, because her stubbornness at refusing to change the name isn't endearing anymore, and there are six of them, did you oppose me joining the party that badly? It's a bit funny to see her so worked up over a stupid party name, that kind of earnest childish straightforwardness of the High Five Heroes makes her gag. The Rat Grinders is a funny inside joke, and Ivy is not comfortable engaging anymore without that layer of irony. For some reason, it doesn't feel good in the same way to hurt Kipperlilly like this, it just leave a knot of frustration that rankles in her stomach, because why does she care so much??

When Lucy dies, she doesn't remember much. She remembers the realization at the choice she'd made, and the rage that followed. Afterwards, though, was a deep all consuming bitterness. Of course she wasn't coming back, little miss goody two shoes never had any intentions of following through and left the rest of us with the fallout. She never expected otherwise, and she refuses to mourn someone who did not give enough of a shit about them to come back. She doesn't think about how Lucy helped her bleach her hair, how she braided Lucy's in return. How Lucy's birthday was coming up and she bought her new clothes, how that bag will stay unopened in her room now.

When she dies on the floor of her high school gymnasium, desperately defending every callous insult she's made with her dying breath, her last moments are spent locking eyes with her best friend, who is looking on in horror. She thinks back to a similar scenario, last year, when that same friend saw her dying and did nothing. She thinks back to them in seventh grade, trading childish insults without any real weight. And then she doesn't think anything at all.

[biwitchenergyz]

A House of Blood and Fire

Chapter One: The Heirs of the Dragon

<-Teaser Next Chapter->

In the future, many years from now, when you await the gods of old Valyria or even the Stranger (hopefully on your deathbed), you may look back on the choices you have made and wonder where you went wrong. Perhaps your death will be less peaceful, perhaps it will be bloody, but you hope that whatever gods watched over you were not the merciless ones Queen Alicent Hightower often wept too.

The world is silent, your room is quiet, and you know the sun will shine soon. Not that the sun has ever done anything good for you. Most people fear the dark but forget all the snakes who love to bask in the sun's light. You often find yourself surrounded by those very snakes, but now, sitting alone in your chambers on Dragonstone, you wonder if the sun purposefully evades the gloomy island. Your lady's smooth voice accompanies the squeak of your door opening.

"Darling girl, I hoped we could talk before our departure." Princess Rhaenyra hardly asked for company; she was surrounded by people at all times, whether that be her children, her lovers, or her court. When she wanted to speak with someone, it was an honor that few could refuse. She moves to sit beside you. Her nightgown is sheer and delicate, with its lacey decorations pooling at her feet as she lifts them onto your bed.

"I was worried that this trip may take a toll on you," Rhaenyra whispers when she is finally sitting at your side, "If you want to stay back, I am sure my father would understand." The silence speaks for itself when Rhaenyra finally hears the irony of her words.

When has Viserys ever been understanding of you? Though the two of you were cousins, his age made him dismissive and ignorant of your plight as a young woman, while his gender gave him a sense of superiority that oozed from his every word. Rhaenyra was lucky to be his eldest daughter because she alone was immune to his cruelty.

"Viserys has been asking me to return, and now he demands it. Even you cannot protect me from that." The older woman's eyes soften at your cynical words. Your arrival at court was, unfortunately, amidst a troubling time for House Targaryen. The Princess and the Queen were constantly at odds, and it seemed that their children were following in their footsteps. With the court jester banished and the king's mood souring, you made for a perfect scapegoat. Had your mother, Saera, been living, she would never have allowed your humiliation. But she was gone, and her reputation fell like an anchor on your head.

"For the past four years, I have found any excuse to keep us on Dragonstone. First, it was my pregnancies, then Daemon’s injury, and Luke’s sickness. I am sorry that my father was not kind to you. However, he has grown ill, and his mind has been sullied with milk of the poppy. All my father wants is to see his family again. We have missed four of his birthdays, and I fear there may not be another. We will leave at dawn." Rhaenyra left no room for argument, so you let the discussion drop. Your mind returns to the reason you must sail for the Red Keep.

"The boat ride will take longer than Dragonback. I may miss dinner entirely." You warn Rhaenyra as she prepares to leave your bed chamber. She turns then, the realms delight, with the brightest smile you had ever seen as she laughed, "There is more than enough room for you on Syrax." Then she left as the sun seeped in through your windows.

• • • • • • •

In the end, you refuse to ride on Dragonback. You have declined it during all the years you have lived in Westeros. The boat ride is hardly uncomfortable, but as you watch Syrax's daisy-colored form fly over you, you wonder about the freedom you miss. Occasionally, the Velaryon boys will fly their dragons down closer toward the water, and your boat shakes at the power of their dragons' flapping wings. Even young dragons have that power. During the journey, Rhaenyra and her family split from you as they head towards King's Landing, and for a while, you are left with only yourself and the Princesses' other ladies as company. "Sit down, Princess. Join us in crafting our favors. You will become seasick if you stand so much." Elinda Massey lectures as you stand staring out the window of the old ship.

Elinda, with her dark hair and darker eyes, never fails to worry. She awoke in the morning with worries, and every night; she went to sleep worrying about how much Rhaenyra and her children ate at dinner and whether or not they would be starving. Her worries for the royal family also extend to you; even the old king's exiled granddaughter was worth her many troubles. Despite being your age and both of you being the youngest of Rhaenyra’s ladies, Elinda had a pious nature that led to her acting as a mother for the other girls, yourself included.

"Lady Massey, I can assure you I will be fine standing. The ship should dock soon anyway." Elinda frowned at your response, but she knew better than to argue with you when your mind was made.

You hurry to the deck of the ship, hoping to see King's Landing in all its glory, when your eye is caught by the enormous shadow that hovers above your boat. A dragon, as dark as an emerald and as giant as the Dragonpit, flies above you with a slow flap of its wings. Vhagar, you think you knew that dragon by heart and the old beast had not changed in the years since you left. Her rider may not be on her back, but you feel like he is for a second, his eyes piercing you from a place hidden from your view. Myranda Strong, with her twin Alyssa, approaches you from behind.

"Lady Massey is talking to the captain. The princess will send us a carriage, but we will still need someone to bring our luggage." Myranda tells you as her eyes also lift to watch Vhagar. Alyssa ignores the dragon, focused on the men preparing to moor the ship.

True to her word, Rhaenyra has sent a carriage for the four of you. It is grander than most carriages but still simple enough in its design to reflect your status as ladies-in-waiting. Inside the carriage, you bump into Alyssa at every dip in the road, but she merely smiles. "The men of the Red Keep will be a great exchange for those in DragonStone. New faces are just the change I need." She laughs with you as you agree to her lust-filled words. "It is the eldest prince that I am most excited to see. The rumors say that were he not a prince; he would certainly be the lover of a Lysinian mistress, or worse, a madame." You go silent at her words, but Elinda quiets the other girl.

"I can assure you we will not be anywhere near the drunkard prince." Her words are brusque, and they silence Alyssa for the rest of the ride. The silence is deafening until the other strong girl finds her voice. "Where is Saagael, my princess?" Myranda asks you even though her dark eyes are locked on her sister. You cannot stop your smile at the mention of your beloved pet. "He will be brought with our luggage. I had to cage him for the journey so the Hand would not know his presence. Saagael is not supposed to be here." You whisper the words with delight as you discuss how you have snuck your cat into King's Landing. Your company finds humor in this, but the rest of the ride is silent until the carriage doors open, and Rhaenyra takes your hand to help you step safely onto the dirt.

"My Princess! You did not need to come get us." Lady Massey exclaims in delight as Rhaenyra helps her down as well. "I thought that at least the four of you should receive a warm welcome. It seems that courtesy is not felt amongst the court." Rhaenyra sneers before she links your arms and leads you through the halls of the red keep. In the light of the setting sun, the halls look more burgundy than the bright red they are known for. Rhaenyra is silent as you both walk arm-in-arm through the bustling castle.

Servants, nobles, and knights alike stop to stare at the Heir and the formerly exiled princess. It has been many years since the Realm's Delight has been home. They watch her with curious glances, trying to dissect this new woman who walks amongst them. Has the Realm's delight turned cruel, or does she remain the sweet girl beloved by all? You can see the hesitance in their eyes as they bow to her passing figure. Rhaenyra, for the most part, ignores all the attention as she begins to tell you what has transpired today.

"A meager servant was sent to greet us. Our first homecoming in five years and we are treated like mere ambassadors. However, I believe that even ambassadors are treated better. I expected to see my father upon my return, but the king is not currently receiving company. Otto Hightower has practically barred the doors to my father's chambers. " The princess can't help but ramble. It is something she often does in your company for whatever reason. You think it is because, despite her estrangement from her siblings, she craves a relationship of equals rather than one of husband and wife or mother and child. She has always been alone in ways her sons and husband never have. The thought tugs at your heartstrings, and your grip on her arm tightens. "I am sure he will be at the tourney. It is in his name, is it not?" You try to ease her stress, but when it is time for you to go to your chambers, Rhaenyra keeps her hold on you.

"Will you stay with me? Your support would make this whole thing feel easier." Silence fills the halls outside of your chamber. Her Majesty, Queen Alicent, chose the room assigned to you. It is within a forgotten tower just behind the Royal sept, the only chamber completely secluded. Unlike the towers that occupy the hand and the royal guard, which all contain more than one room, your tower has only one other room relatively distant from your chambers. The royal library is at the end of the hall and one must pass your rooms to get there. Thus, for the most part, your halls are silent. Rhaenyra uses this silence to talk freely, so you do the same.

"My Princess, the children of Her Majesty will also be in attendance. I hardly think I will be any help when I am already so anxious to see them. I haven't been here since Helaena disappeared." You pick at the skin around your nails, a habit inherited from your mother, Saera. Rhaenyra watches you look away from her gaze while shuffling uncomfortably back and forth. Aegon and Aemond Targaryen were your friends once, more Aegon than Aemond. But the night Helaena vanished, many incidents occurred that forced you to flee for DragonStone. Not only had Alicent suspected you of helping Helaena escape, but so did her two oldest sons, and when you left, never to return until now, they grew to resent you. That's what you thought, although you never had any clear evidence besides the heated conversation that night four years ago.

"Darling, I want you there, but I will not beg," Rhaenyra stated plainly. Her royal demeanor inspired you to lift your eyes. Her violet eyes gleamed with a reserved strength that she took no measures to conceal. "I will go." You decided.

• • • • • • •

The tourney was to begin in less than an hour, but first, you wanted to make sure your pet was settling into your chambers. Saagael paced back and forth, his body more extensive than a house cat, as dark as a moonless night sky, and his paws hit the floor like an elephant on the march. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.” You try to reason with the cat, but he will hear nothing of it. He turns to leap onto your chair, making it seem like a doll’s chair with his big body taking over the furniture. His paws knead into the soft fabric, but he does not rip it. You knew the risk of returning him to the red keep would be significant, but you reasoned that he would be safer with you than left alone on Dragonstone. At least here, you could watch him and protect him. The thought of losing your beloved companion was one of the many fears that kept you up at night. Saagael was all you had left of home and your parents; without him, you would be truly lost. Even in moments like this, when his attitude was at its height, you took comfort in his presence.

“Fine. I will bring you a whole salmon from the kitchen! All you have to do is stay here and be good.” You pleaded with the grumpy cat. Saagael’s ears perked up at the mention of his favorite treat. Finally, he left his chair to curl up at your feet. You scratched his neck, making him purr contentedly. With a few more pets, you got up to leave him. As you opened your door, you jumped back in shock at the sight of Alicent Hightower standing outside. Her delicate hand was raised as if she was going to knock upon your door. The both of you seemed startled by the presence of the other, but neither of you spoke for a moment.

Alicent breaks the silence, “You have grown quite a lot in these years.” Her voice is gentle but still royal, showing her hesitance to appear as anything but regal in front of you. “Please do come in, your majesty!” You stumble over yourself to bow appropriately in the older woman's presence. Alicent walks in, taking in the room to find it, the same as when she first had it decorated for you.

Saagael is perched on the bed with no interest in moving, but Alicent strokes his fur, and he suddenly sits up and is very interested in the queen. “Is there a purpose to your visit, my queen?” Slowly, your feet move to the Queen's side while watching her admire your beloved Saagael. “My father hates this cat.” The queen muses instead of answering your question. The room falls to silence again until Alicent finally speaks. “I have been begging Viserys to bring you back home, and finally, you are here. I came to apologize to you, dear girl. When my daughter…left…I placed my blame onto you when you have been nothing but loyal to me and my children since you arrived at the Red Keep. I hope you can forgive me.” She turns to you, and you see the young woman you grew up with, who took you in along with Rhaenyra when you needed guidance.

Her big brown eyes glisten with unshed tears, but over time, you realize that Alicent's eyes are always sad. With a boldness you didn't realize you had, you step forward to grasp the Queen’s hands. “All is forgiven, Your Majesty.” Alicent smiles as she rubs her hand over your own, pausing at the rough skin around your fingernails. It is inflamed from being picked at, and Alicent notices it instantly. Gently, she touches your skin before looking back into your eyes.

“My sons, they have missed you greatly. I know they will be glad to see you. Please forgive them of their standoffish nature.” You nod at her words, knowing you have missed her sons just as much as Helaena. A bell chimes from the royal sept, and its echo fills your quiet room. Alicent responds instantly, dropping your hands and heading to the door before turning and saying, “The king wants his entire family at dinner after the tourney. I hope that you come.” She leaves the room with urgency, and for a fleeting moment, you feel like a twelve-year-old again, spending the winter in the Red Keep playing with Helaena and Aegon while a silent Aemond watches on in Amusement as Alicent gently scolds you and Aegon for roughhousing.

Jace and Luke are the ones who come to escort you to the King’s birthday tourney. You link arms with Jacaerys while Luke fiddles with the ring on his finger. It is a matching one Rhaenyra gave him for his tenth name day, valyrian steel with a single onyx crystal in the middle of the circlet. You all walk in silence, having nothing to say to each other. When you reach the doors that lead into the courtyard, you stop to turn to Luke, who is beginning to look faint. “Luke, you look as though you have seen a ghost. What troubles you?” You rest your hand over his own to stop his fidgeting. Luke smiles at you even though his eyebrows furrow in thought. Jace keeps his hand on your arm but uses his other hand to pat Luke’s back. Then Luke looks up at you with a strange determination on his face. “Are you on our side?” You drop his hands in shock. With a quick glance around, you see that nobody is in the halls besides two guards who stand watch at the doors to the courtyard. You gather the skirts of your dress and bend slightly to come face to face with Luke.

“Little Luke Velaryon, what are you talking about?” The words come out as a whisper, unnoticed by the guards, but Jace and Luke hear them loud and clear, and they do not back down. “Our uncles call us bastards. The whispers of the court say that it is Aegon who should be our grandsire’s heir. Do you stand with us or with them?”

Luke is bolder than Jace. He always has been. Unlike Jacaerys, who strives to be the perfect dignified gentle-lord, Luke is proud like the Velaryons and does not hold his tongue.

“I am my mother's daughter; Saera Targaryen would see no value in such disagreements. I do not wish to fuel a fire that is already roaring. The politics of Westeros are still strange to me, but my position here is not. I have no right to say what should happen to the iron throne, but I assure you that I love you and your mother very much. That is all I can say.” Luke nods, his youthful face looking mature for the first time. He seems as if he will argue, but he holds his tongue because of a lack of response. Jace takes your arm in his again, and as you wait for Rhaenyra and Daemon to join the three of you, Jace talks to you in whispers.

“Even you must feel the division of the court.” He shows no signs of discontent, but Lucereys is still mulling over your response. “Trust that I feel the division like a knife in my back.” Your stare rises to meet his eyes. For a moment, he is silent, but his eyes are loud enough. The conversation ends there as Rhaenyra and Daemon approach to lead the family to their carriages. You watch the doors open but stop before crossing them; Jace pulls you through.

• • • • • • •

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiii could you maybe do Donna Beneviento with a single mother! fem! reader who is Donnas only maid, Donna lets your son (toddler) live in the manor because she knows that theres no one else to take care of him and shes quite fond of him, letting him play in her workshop while she works, she even makes toys and clothes for him. Donna is obviously in love with reader but she isnt sure if reader fells the same way until your son blabbs about how much you like Donna, which gives to confidence to confess to you. Feel free to ignore this request if you dont like it :]

Yess!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

A better future

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid, Single mother! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 5,803

Summary: You have to be her maid, you have to take care of your son...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I won't be at home this weekend, but you can send your requests anyway, I'm waiting them!!! I love you all!!! :))

Nervously, you sat down in a chair.

You didn't expect to have to look for a job so desperately, but the storm that had destroyed your humble cabin forced you to do whatever it took to survive.

You could have rebuilt it, been cold for a while and then moved on with your life but… It wasn't you that mattered.

6 years ago you had made the biggest mistake of your life, falling in love with a foolish farmer. It could have been a real mistake, something you regretted at night, for which you cried at every corner, but the result of that brief romance made you see that maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

You had given birth to your son, Viktor, in absolute solitude. The farmer didn’t want to take responsibility and as if fate had made him pay for his disinterest, he was soon devoured by the Lycans. It was better this way. It took you a while to realize but... He wasn't a good person and he never was.

Maybe love blinded you. Maybe that romance never had to exist. But, looking into your little son's eyes made you rethink many things. Single mother, yes, but you would be the best mother in the world, for sure.

With a child in your care, no family, and your house practically destroyed, you had no choice but to look for an alternative, to find a way to support the child, to make him happy.

After the loss of your home, you wandered around the village looking for a kind soul, someone who would offer you a job and shelter from the cold. There weren't many options and asking Mother Miranda for help wasn't something you wanted to do. Maybe it was a trial from the Black Gods.

But there was an option, one that could provide you with work, and shelter. You would be a maid.

You had many friends who worked at the castle but you really didn't want to go there, not after hearing the things that were happening in there. After desperately searching for an alternative, the village merchant, the Duke, acted as a miracle worker, offering you a slightly different job and, according to him, a unique opportunity.

Apparently one of the village Lords, Donna Beneviento, needed a maid, someone to take care of the mansion. At first you refused, since you knew well what that mourning woman could do if she got angry. It wasn't the best place for your son, next to a mentally ill woman and her evil doll.

But time passed and your son shivered from the cold every night. The sight of his small body suffering the consequences of the cold was more than enough for you to take a deep breath and walk towards the old estate in search of a chance to have a better life.

And there you were, sitting in front of that woman with your son in your arms. The silence was heavy, tense, and her hidden face made you shiver.

“The, the Duke said you needed a maid,” you murmured, being the only voice heard in that house. The lady held her gaze and nodded slowly.

“Do you have experience as a maid?” A soft, hoarse voice asked, one that came out of her black veil.

You held your son tighter in your arms, wondering if it was really a good idea to be in that place. Poor Viktor was scared, taking refuge on your shoulder. It was probably because of the puppet resting on the lady's lap. It even gave you chills.

“Well, no, my lady, but I really want this job,” you murmured, embarrassed by your lack of experience.

“Your voice sounds desperate,” the lady in black sighed, with that same stoic pose, barely moving from that chair, proving she was not a ghost with her soft breathing.

“No, well, I...” You said, faking a smile and shifting in your chair. “Well, maybe,” you finally acknowledged, making that mourning figure nod again.

The puppet suddenly came to life and the woman crouched down, as if she were whispering something in its ear. Something you couldn't hear. The doll nodded and climbed out of her lap, comically running towards you and stopping next to your son, who shifted nervously and scared.

“Hello, I'm Angie, who are you?” The doll asked. Not to you, but to the child you were holding. He got even more scared, but you moved him so he was looking at the puppet.

“Answer her, honey,” you whispered, just as scared, but convinced that this was some kind of test. “Be kind.”

“My name is Viktor...” The boy murmured, his voice distorted due to the fist in his mouth.

“Well, Viktor...” Angie said, with her hands on her hips, barely paying attention to you. The lady in black didn't seem to want to take her eyes off you. “Do you want us to be friends?”

The answer to that question came in the form of a shaky shake of the head. You breathed heavily, not knowing how important that would be to getting the job.

“No? What a shame,” Angie said, with a squeaky voice. “I thought I would have someone to play with…”

“Play?” Your son asked. He couldn't resist that blackmail with an expectant look. The doll nodded, turning cockily.

“Yes, play. I'm the world's hide-and-seek champion, didn't you know? I thought a kid like you could beat me, but if you don't want to...” She said, feigning indifference.

“The world champion?” He asked curiously, losing that initial fear. After all, he was just a child.

“Yes. Tell me, do you think you could beat me?” The doll asked, with a challenging tone.

“Yes, I also play hide-and-seek with my mother,” the boy said, frowning and looking at you with a questioning face.

“Prove it, let's play,” Angie insisted, extending a wooden hand to your son.

You looked at the lady, who had remained completely silent, observing the conversation. With a nod of approval, she let you know that it was a good idea, although you were still not entirely convinced.

“Can I play, mom?” Viktor asked, tugging at the fabric of your dress. You hesitated, but seeing that there was nothing wrong, or so you wanted to think, you nodded, helping the boy down to the floor.

The two of them ran through the house and you watched them closely. You didn't trust her, you couldn't do it.

“It will be okay, (Y/N),” Lady Beneviento whispered, drawing your attention again, making you remember why you were there.

You nodded suspiciously, but sat up straight and looked at her again.

“Is he your son?” She asked, with an indifferent tone. You nodded slowly. “How old is he?”

“6 years old, my lady,” you responded kindly, to which the lady nodded again, turning her head towards the doll and the child, who seemed to be having fun.

“Where is his father?” The lady continued asking, making your stomach clench as you remembered that horrible farmer.

“He is not here anymore, and it's better this way,” you murmured, perhaps revealing much more information than you wanted. The mourning lady nodded slowly at that statement of yours, letting something resembling a sigh escape from her lips.

“I understand,” she whispered with an indifferent tone. “I suppose that if I hire you, your son will be included too, right?”

You didn't know how to respond instantly. Maybe a child running around the house wasn't exactly what this disturbed woman needed.

“I wouldn't ask you if I had another option, my lady. I have no family. There is no one who can take care of him. He only has me. If that is an impediment to work, I...”

“Shut up, I didn't say that,” she said, interrupting you abruptly, making you swallow nervously.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” you apologized, bowing your head.

“Do you think I would let a child go hungry or cold? Do you think I would be capable of something like that?”

“No, my lady,” you answered embarrassed.

Before the situation could become more tense, the Angie doll came running towards where you were, comically climbing over her owner and making a mocking gesture at your son, who protested by stamping his feet on the floor.

“That's cheating,” your son said, with an innocent tone.

“You can't catch me,” the doll crooned, hiding behind Lady Beneviento.

Your son never gave up easily, you knew that, and before you could stop him, the boy climbed up the sofa, reaching his small arm towards the doll, accidentally grabbing the black fabric of the lady's veil and removing it with a triumphant gasp. .

“Viktor!” You shouted, scared, quickly getting up from the chair and grabbing the wrist of your son, who had been petrified when he saw the deformed face of the lady in black, one that you had not paid much attention to. “Gods, excuse him, my lady, I beg you.”

Lady Beneviento maintained a cold expression towards the child, who tremblingly held the veil in his hand, looking with horror at the woman's face.

“I'm very sorry, lady, I didn't want to hurt you,” the boy said politely, with a sad face, as if he had been to blame for something horrible.

“You haven't hurt me,” she said, with a low tone, without showing any annoyance or offense, which made you relax and focus on her. She was a terribly beautiful woman. No scar was going to stop you from thinking that way.

“Her, her eye...” The boy repeated, allowing himself to be held in your arms. The lady shook her head, with the same cold expression.

“Viktor...” You sighed, thinking, after that incident, you would never have the job. “My lady, I…”

The lady fixed her eye on yours, without expressing any emotion, and she rose from her chair, retrieving her veil from your son's small hands.

“Mom, I took out her eye...” Viktor murmured, scared, terrified by what he thought he had done. The woman in black, smiled sweetly at those words.

“No, honey, she looks like that. You haven't done anything wrong,” you said, cradling him in your arms, looking askance at the woman, who kept a cold, studious gaze. “I, we should go. Anyway, thanks for helping me.”

“Are you going to look for your stuff?” She asked, frowning and playing with the veil in her hands.

“Well, I... What?”

"Go get the things you want, you'll settle in the guest room,” she explained, walking away from you, turning her back to you. You widened your eyes and shook your head, walking quickly and putting a hand on her shoulder to make her turn around.

“Am I hired?” You asked in a low voice, not believing what had just happened.

“Haven't you heard me? Go get your stuff,” she murmured, pushing your hand away and walking until she disappeared from your sight.

Against all odds, Donna Beneviento appointed you as her maid. You would live safely in the mansion. You would no longer have to fear hunger and cold. You didn't stop thanking the Gods for that opportunity.

At first you had a hard time adjusting. Viktor still needed a lot of care and your job as a maid required you to be less attentive to him as you should be. Fortunately, and to your surprise, that devilish doll made your job easier.

It seemed like your son was having fun with the puppet, it seemed like things were getting better.

Regarding the Lady... Well, there weren’t too many things you could say. That you had seen her face was an important step, since she stopped wearing her veil after a while. She seemed satisfied with your work, but you couldn't be sure, she barely talked to you.

Weeks, months passed, and your life improved enough that you felt like smiling again, and, above all, your son seemed happy.

“Where are you? Viktor, this is not the time to play,” you said while cleaning, surprised because the boy didn't seem to be with the puppet. You searched for him all over the main floor, to no avail.

Although you had no reason to think that anything bad could happen, you couldn't help but see that house as a dangerous place. Donna Beneviento was a Lord, and you knew that none of her visitors returned alive from that dangerous situation. Definitely, the fact that there was a deadly cliff outside didn’t help you to calm down.

“Angie, where is the child?” You nervously asked the puppet, who was humming while making small jumps through the hallway.

“Do I look like a nanny to you, maid?” She asked mockingly, crossing her arms. You sighed, already used to that cocky but fun treatment.

“He's always with you,” you said, huffing, with trembling hands and searching with your eyes for some place he could have gone.

“Maybe he's downstairs,” the puppet whispered, pointing to the elevator.

All your senses became alert. You had warned him several times not to go down to that dark place by himself.

“Very good, thank you very much,” you said, running towards that place.

“Viktor? Come here right now!” You said with a severe tone, walking through those labyrinthine and dark corridors.

While you were walking, you heard voices that seemed to come from the workshop where your lady worked tirelessly, making those sinister dolls.

“Oh, no...” You sighed, walking faster.

It didn't seem like Viktor was a bother to the lady at all, they even seemed to get along well, but still you couldn't let your son ruin this little paradise you had achieved.

“And he can fly,” your son said when you looked at the door of that disturbing place. The boy was sitting at a table, talking to the lady, who was working on something while she listened to his comments.

“I guess we'll have to put some wings on it then, right?” Lady Beneviento responded, with a calming voice, which made you not want to reveal your presence yet.

“No, no, he flies because he has rockets on his boots,” the boy interrupted, looking at the work of the woman in black, who smiled tenderly, arching her eyebrow.

“Rockets?” She asked, amused, taking a piece of wood from the table.

“Yes, yes, like those that go to space, but smaller,” your son explained under your attentive gaze.

“Very well... So... Rockets,” she murmured, concentrating on that piece of wood.

“Mom, mom,” the boy said, when he made eye contact with you, revealing your position and jumping from the table to run into your arms.

“Viktor, I've told you a thousand times not to come down here alone,” you scolded him, making him shrink into your arms, embarrassed.

“(Y/N),” the lady in black murmured, getting up from the chair, with a look that betrayed some joy at seeing you.

Yes, even if your relationship was almost nonexistent, you couldn't help but feel comfortable with her and... It seemed like she thought the same way.

“My lady, I'm sorry if he annoyed you, I've told him many times that he shouldn't come down here and...” You said, lowering your head, interrupted by a timid laugh from the woman in black.

“He wasn’t annoying me, don't worry. It's nice to have some company while I work,” she commented, amused, getting a little closer to you, playing with her hands.

“Mom, Donna is making a toy for me. He's going to be the best superhero,” the boy said, enthusiastically, to which you frowned, nervous again.

“Honey, don't be disrespectful, you should call her my lady or Lady Beneviento,” you told him, ignoring that curious information about a toy.

“No, I told him he can call me that way,” she interrupted, sighing, with a face that was a middle ground between a smile and embarrassment. “You too, (Y/N).”

“Well, I...” You stammered, confused by that informality. According to the maids you knew in the castle, that was unthinkable, and they would end up locked in the dungeons for it. “Okay, okay, Donna…”

“There is no need for so much formality, don't you think? You've been here for a long time,” the woman in black commented, with a knowing smile. You nodded in relief, lowering your son to the floor.

“I guess... That you're right,” you said in a low voice, feeling strangely uncomfortable having her eye fixed on you. It was not an annoying discomfort, quite the opposite.

“He's a good boy,” she told you with a soft voice, making your son smile pleased, looking at you as if he were showing that he wasn't up to any mischief.

“Yes, well... He is,” you said.

“I was making a toy for him,” Donna commented, walking towards the table where she was working, making you follow her slowly after that strange moment.

“A toy?” You asked confused.

“Yeah!” Viktor shouted, jumping on the stone floor, excited. “The best toy ever!”

“Oh, my… Donna, you don't have to do it,” you said apologetically, lowering your head again.

“Why not? I want to do it,” she said, with a more serious tone, with a cold and somewhat annoyed expression.

“I appreciate it but...” You said, scratching the back of your neck and playing with your apron.

“Is there anything wrong with it?” She asked abruptly, making the boy look at you confused.

“No, not really, but...” You whispered, with a slightly nervous smile, with a lot of strange thoughts in your head.

“What is the problem? Can't a nutcase like me make a toy for your son? Do you think I'm going to hurt him? Is that?” She asked with an accusatory tone, with that nervous breathing that preceded a terrible panic attack. You didn't want that to happen, not in front of your son.

“No, I didn't say that,” you said with a firm tone, frowning and hiding your son behind your legs.

“It's what you think, don't try to deny it,” she murmured, sitting down again, thus telling you that you should go.

“I... We better go,” you whispered, grabbing the boy's hand and walking towards the door of the workshop.

“I want to stay with Donna,” Viktor protested, making the lady turn around slowly, looking at you with a sad expression.

 “No, honey, leave her alone, okay?” You said to your son, without taking your eyes off the woman in black. “You've already bothered her enough.”

“But mom... Donna is funny... She makes all the dolls talk and she makes me laugh,” the boy explained, frowning, threatening a tantrum.

“Viktor, obey,” you reprimanded, with a broken voice, feeling bad for that moment, for that fearful accusation towards your lady, an accusation founded solely on what the villagers had told you about the Lord.

“Listen to your mother, Viktor,” Donna whispered, moving some paint cans on the table.

After that little incident, things went back to normal.

You couldn't stop thinking about your words, your fearful way of talking to the lady in black, to Donna.

Yes, you were afraid, you were scared and something would happen to your son was unthinkable but... In reality there was nothing wrong with her making toys for him, with her taking care of him. Guilt began to flood your conscience. Donna never scared him, she never hurt him. She took care of him in her own way, she played with him. You had nothing to worry about except messing things up, like that time.

“My lady,” you commented as you served her lunch, with a low and soft voice. She looked at you out of the corner of her eye and nodded for you to speak. The resentment was totally palpable in that room, it was impossible to ignore in that cold and accusatory look.

“I told you not to call me that,” she murmured, while you poured her a glass of wine.

“I'm sorry, I... I want to apologize,” you said hurriedly, making her stop eating and look at you again, sighing.

“Apologize, why?” She asked. “For thinking that I am a child-eating witch?”

“What? I don't...” You said a bit confused by that funny and serious accusation. “I don’t think that way.”

“Don’t you? You’re such a liar,” she said with a mocking laugh, shaking her head.

“I... I just, I just worry about him," you whispered, glancing at the boy, who was reading a story with Angie. “It's the only thing I have in the world and...”

“You're afraid of losing him, I understand,” Donna said, nodding, looking at you briefly. “Sit down, please,” she asked you, pointing to a chair at the table. You obeyed with trembling legs.

Donna looked at you briefly, thinking about what to say, and how to do it.

“You think you know me?” She asked, putting her food aside and crossing her arms, staring at you like a sharp dagger.

“No, my lady,” you said with a formal voice, lowering your gaze.

“My lady?” Donna asked, with an arched eyebrow and hatred in her voice.

“Donna,” you corrected, embarrassed again.

“I know what it's like to feel alone in this world, (Y/N). Surely all the villagers like you think that I’m just a ruthless Lord, that I have no heart or feelings.”

“I didn't say that,” you defended yourself, trying to control the trembling of your hands.

“But you think that way,” she said, with a dark voice. “You think that by having power over you, I would be able to do anything, right? Even harming child.”

“I don't…”

“Shut up, I'm talking, maid. If you fear me that much, respect me,” she said, with a loud, abrupt voice that caught the attention of the boy and the doll.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered, avoiding feeling even more afraid.

“My parents died when I was a little girl, I wasn't much older than your son,” she began to say, taking a sip of wine. “I was left alone, completely alone in this huge house.”

You nodded, letting her speak.

“Unlike your son, I didn't have anyone to read me stories at night, to tell me that the shadows in the room couldn't hurt me. I didn't have anyone to laugh with, to hug,” she continued, her voice becoming more and more broken. “Your son is lucky to have you, (Y/N).”

“I...” You murmured, being interrupted by a gesture of her hand.

“I like having you here, I like to see that your son is having a better life,” Donna commented, looking at you this time embarrassed, as if there was something that wanted to come out from inside her. “I no longer feel alone, thanks to you.”

You looked at her, but you kept your words to yourself as you saw the relaxation of her breathing, the softness that her gaze expressed at that moment.

“But I can't stand that you fear me, I just can't stand it,” she said, looking away from you, finishing her glass of wine. “I can't stand you thinking... That I'm a monster.”

“I don't think you are,” you said confidently, with your body trembling in a different way, with a strange feeling beginning to come out of a hidden place in your mind. “It's, it's my fault, Donna, I... I just, I just want the best for my son and maybe, maybe I let myself go.”

She nodded grimly.

“I wish your words were true...” Donna murmured, playing with a cutlery and making a gesture with her hand. “Leave me alone, please.”

After that conversation, there was something that ignited inside you. Donna Beneviento may have had a lot of problems, but letting yourself be carried away by other people's opinions was never your style.

Once again, time proved you were wrong.

Viktor seemed very happy. He had fun with Donna in her workshop every day. You barely saw him anymore when you worked. Toys, clothes... The lady in black pleased him with handmade gifts that made him look at you grateful for being her maid.

You managed to improve that tense relationship with the Lord. The conversations were becoming more frequent and the smiles... The smiles too. You couldn't say if the conversation that afternoon had served to change your opinion, but you were convinced it had.

Trust grew to the point that meals were no longer solitary, or apart, they were a fun time for the three of you, full of laughter, smiles and strange moments in which you and Donna would look at each other as if you wanted to say something, as if something was forcing your eyes to meet more and more often.

Love was one of the things you couldn't afford. Viktor was your absolute priority. But with Donna and Angie taking care of him, freeing you from that burden for a while, the feeling of wanting to feel loved became stronger and stronger, and it coincided suspiciously with the times you ate with the lady in black, or the times you spent reading with her and your son.

Something strange, that you didn't expect to feel, but that you couldn't stop thinking. Your heart seemed to be determined to give yourself a new chance at love, but your past experiences were not a good recommendation for your conscience, which insisted on denying that you felt something for Donna, something that you never planned to feel again.

Sighing, you took off your apron, ending another day of exhausting work. The house was big, and so were the layers of dust that covered the furniture.

“Oh, nonna, che occhi grossi!... Per vederti meglio… Oh, nonna, che mani grandi!... Per afferrarti meglio” a soft voice reached your ears. It couldn't be anyone else.

In a small corner of the room, Donna seemed to be reading a story to Viktor, who was listening to her as if he really understood her. You frowned in amusement, approaching them slowly.

“Ma, nonna, che bocca spaventosa!” Donna continued, lowering her tone and looking at the child over the book. Your son stood up on the couch smiling, pretending that his hands were two sharp claws.

“Per divorarti meglio!” The boy screeched, growling like a ferocious wolf. You leaned against a wall, mouth open.

“What are you doing?” You asked amused, sitting next to your son, who continued growling and showing his teeth in a comical way.

“Oh, I was reading him a story,” the lady explained, closing the book and giving you a smile, one of those that caused those strange feelings to take over your breathing, and your heart.

“A story? But, Viktor, do you understand it?” You asked your son, making him sit up and stop pretending he was a wolf. The boy nodded innocently. “Hey, you, since when do you know Italian?”

“Donna taught me,” the little boy explained, shrugging his shoulders. “Am I doing it well?”

“Um, yeah, I guess so,” you said with a raised eyebrow. Donna looked at him fondly, and then, then she looked at you.

“He is very smart,” the lady in black explained, leaving the book of stories on the table, and looking away from you when she thought she had been smiling for too long.

“I see,” you said, still surprised, caressing your son's head, who smiled proudly.

“Can I play tag with Angie?” The boy asked, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“Honey, it's too late, you should go to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch and taking him into your arms. You didn't know why he wanted to play. He was rubbing his eyes due to his tiredness. “Um… Donna…”

The lady stood up with you, looking at you expectantly.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” you said with a smile. She returned it to you and nodded, thus generating a tense moment, one like the ones you had more and more frequently.

“It's not a bother,” she whispered, nodding kindly, with a strange gleam in her eye, as if she were nervous. The way she played with her hands confirmed it to you. “(Y/N), I... I wanted, I wanted to tell you something.”

You nodded almost robotically, waiting… Well, you didn't really know what you were waiting for.

“I... I was thinking that I... You...” She stammered, finding to speak clearly difficult. It seemed like something important, which vanished the moment she dropped her shoulders.

“I'm listening,” you said amused, placing your son better in your arms. Your gazes met again and Donna sighed, as if she was suddenly disappointed with herself.

“I just wanted... I wanted you to know that... I, I really like you're here... You're here with me... In my house and... I... Well, I just, I just wanted to tell you,” Donna stammered, with a marked accent that made it difficult for you to understand those words.

“I, I'm also very happy by your side, I mean, working for you, I mean... Well, better, I'd better go to bed...” You said, cowardly fleeing from that strange conversation, trying to you’re your heartbeat.

You didn't turn to look at her. You assumed she had the same expression as you.

Trying to forget about those feelings, you put your son to bed, with your head speaking to you intensely, with your heart calling for you to listen to it.

“Mom, my superhero,” the boy said, reaching out to the toy that Donna had made for him. You smiled, grabbing it from the shelf and looked at it, studying it carefully before putting it under the covers next to the boy.

“Honey...” You sighed, stroking his hair. “Tell me, are you happy here?” You asked, to which he smiled, nodding profusely and hugging his toy.

“Yes, mom,” he answered, with a sleepy voice. “Donna is very nice, and Angie is very funny. I like them very much.”

“Do you like Donna?” You asked immediately afterwards, giving away the intention of your question.

“Yes, very much, mom, she is kind, she makes me laugh, and she makes you smile. I want us to stay with her forever,” he said enthusiastically, with all the sincerity of which such a young child was capable of.

“Well, maybe...” You whispered, amused. “I like her too, you know?”

You finally confessed something you were unable to tell yourself. Viktor just smiled at you, pleased by your response.

Yes, you had spent a lot of time denying your feelings, and that confession eased your anguish a bit. It's a shame that such a small child was incapable of keeping quiet.

“Looks like the weather has gotten better,” you murmured during lunch. That strange conversation from the night before had tense the atmosphere again, especially for Donna, who didn't seem to want to look at you, as if she were embarrassed by something.

“Yes, at least we can see the sun,” she commented, without looking up.

“Can we go for a walk in the forest?” Viktor asked, making the tension dissipate for a moment.

“We'll see, honey,” you said, wiping him with a napkin. “Come on, eat.”

“I like the forest. It has very big trees,” the boy said, looking at Donna, who smiled tenderly at him.

“Do you like it?” She asked kindly, looking away from you.

“Yes, I like it as much as my mom likes you,” he commented innocently, making you drop the cutlery on the plate, your heart completely stopping and a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Your… mom?” Donna asked, with the same trembling as you, looking at you slowly, with an expression of astonishment and disbelief.

“Viktor...” You sighed with a dark look. “What are you talking about?”

“You told me last night, Mom, you said you really liked Donna,” the boy said, feeling threatened by your angry look and your painful shame.

“Okay, enough, Viktor, go, go to play with Angie,” you said nervously, pushing your son out of the chair.

“But mom...” He protested confusedly, letting himself be dragged by your hand until he ran in search of the doll.

“Damn...” You muttered, slowly heading to the table, pretending that nothing had happened. “I'm going, I'm going to pick this up,” you said nervously, placing the plates to run out of there.

“Wait,” Donna said, standing up abruptly and stopping your attempt to flee with a hand on your shoulder.

“I'm in a hurry, Donna, I have to pick this up,” you said, on the verge of tears, terribly embarrassed and blushing at that inappropriate comment from your son. True, but inappropriate.

“Wait, please, I...” She begged, holding you tighter as you fought back your tears. “I love you.”

You stopped, turning slightly towards her. You hadn't imagined it, she had really said it. Your heart was about to burst.

“What have you said?” You asked with a broken voice, with a low and suspicious tone.

“I love you, (Y/N), I’m, I’m in love with you,” she confessed, looking away from you, with that same wet shine in her eye.

“Donna, I…” You stammered, not believing it could be true, not believing the voices in your heart were right.

“I didn't dare to tell you because, because I wasn't sure if you could feel the same but...”

“But my loudmouth son encouraged you to do it,” you finished, relaxing your face and leaving the plates on the table again, smiling happily, as if you were in a dream.

“I, I know that I’m not... What... What you are looking for but... I, I would like to be able to... I...”

Her babbling was stopped by a kiss, a kiss that you quickly placed on her lips while your hands played with her hair, preventing her from separating from you. Donna pulled away slowly, but before either of you could say anything else, she kissed you, slowly, enjoying that sensation, that love that had just seen the light.

“Gross!” Angie screamed, approaching the scene with your son, who was looking at you with curiosity.

You both closed your eyes and smiled, resting your foreheads together, your hands roaming your waist, enjoying a small moment of realization, of insights that were taking too long to come.

“I'm in love with you too, Donna,” you confessed, playing with her hand, placing your lips once again on hers, with the salty taste of a tear seasoning that important moment.

“Mom...” Your son called, tugging at your dress. You both smiled at each other again before separating. You took the child into your arms, enjoying his innocence.

“What, honey?” You asked, excited by that moment. Donna looked at you tenderly, not wanting to interrupt.

“Does that mean we will stay here forever?” He asked with an excited smile, excited by that possibility. You looked at Donna, and then at your son.

“Yes, darling…”

[bansurii]

cocktail

cw: sukuna x reader x yuji }{ yuji has DID and sukuna is his other personality}{ smut, mental disorders, trigger warnings, just don't read it if you cannot handle mental illness discussions and things of the like }{ also reader is a psych major }{ reader choice at bottom for smut }{ unedited, wrote in an hour haha hope you enjoy }{mdni

you didn't expect anything at first. he was cute, he was talkative, he was gentle. you liked his vulnerability, his openness, his judgement-free zone, his carefree and childlike attitude. he was super fucking dope!

you had sex a couple times and it blew your fucking mind. better than anyone you had ever been with. as you started to get to know him more and better than before, you started to fall in love with him. albeit, there were growing feelings anyway from his plans for his life and the way he talked to you as if you had known each other for years. the chemistry was truly unparalleled.

he was everything you asked and more.

after a while, you began to notice subtle changes. small, but noticeable enough. and for a while, you said nothing.

until one night, he said something that made you realize something absolutely startling. it had you on the edge of your mental seat. physically, you were calm. or you'd hoped you looked calm.

he noticed how uneasy you got even if you were damn near unreadable. the part of him that became apparent to you, the version of himself that he tried hard to bury had come through in subtle ways. he knew it scared you, but it was hard for him to hold that part of himself back. he knew that only one of two things would happen whether you left or not.

his insanity would get the best of him and you would accept it, or he would wake up and realize you were gone. as if you had never existed. but the residuals were there. a mark left that could never be removed.

he was obsessed with you. you gave him something no one has given him in a very long time; kindness, vulnerability, friendship, everything he asked and more. you weren't afraid of him in the beginning like most were before. some say they saw someone in him that scared them beyond return. some say it was just his energy. but he wasn't sure what you saw. maybe you were naive. or maybe you knew it but shoved the thoughts and feelings down because you were going through a drought and needed it bad.

but he knew deep down and so did the part of himself he hid: you were the perfect one for him.

he didn't know how long this would last. hell, he didn't even think it would last this long. but he knew he wanted it. he knew he couldn't let you leave him. he knew he couldn't stay away from you. he needed you in every possible way.

he often wondered in the wee hours of the night and the morning if you knew how good it felt to be needed. to be desired. he wondered if you felt the same deep desire for him. he knows it was rather soon, too soon perhaps, that he liked you from the beginning. he was infatuated, but that soon grew to something longer-lasting, something more serious. he had truly never been so compatible with someone before. there were too many similarities and even with other people he knew and was compatible with, knew them for longer too, just never could compare to what he felt with you.

he had been alone so long he just couldn't fathom someone like this existed. someone who was... a universe inside of a human body. alone so long he didn't even know how to act right around someone else. he wasn't a great texter, or phone person in general. he preferred to be in person. he wanted the physical intimacy without the sex that you provided, the safe space, the ability to say nonsensical things and still be appreciated and laughed with and cared for and... loved.

so you visited him again after that night. it was about two weeks later, barely texted or called him this time. he wondered why. if it was something he did, if it was... the energy. if you saw the part of him he didn't want anyone to see.

the switch was slow, where normally it is quick. like a light switching off. but he had been holding onto the spotlight for so damn long... he could feel it switching but it was too late to tell you not to come over. you had already sent your eta and when he checked... you were right around the corner. he didn't want you to waste your trip, but he didn't have enough time to tell you to go back home. he barely had enough time to form the coherent thought before he took over. it was too late. he could only watch from the darkness surrounding him. he clawed, and screamed, and fought and tried his hardest to take the spotlight back but over that period of time, those years he held back, he had been weakened slowly but surely. he lost this time, but he had everything to gain through this. he just didn't know yet.

and when you arrived, he opened the door for you as he normally would and greeted you. he took your jacket, your shoes, your bag and he placed it on the racks by the door for you.

he was taller, you noticed, maybe a posture thing. he had a certain aura around him that was different than the aura you were used to. but otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary.

you wondered if he had done something different somewhere somehow. but you couldn't place your finger on it. the apartment was the same as usual. his hair was the same as usual. his eyes were a little darker, but everything else was the same. except for the mischievous smile as you turned your back to him to sit on his sofa.

it was a two seater, a slightly larger love-seat across from you and you expected him to sit there as he normally did. he said he always sat across from you because he wanted you to feel comfortable and because you were so pretty he wanted to see you at all times.

it was charming at first. but now, you wonder if there was something else... something behind the real reason he sat so far away.

he sat next to you. you wondered if he was alright, he was so quiet, so... calculative, it seemed.

"how are you tonight? you haven't texted or called as much as you usually do. you seeing someone else already?"

it was shocking hearing that. you wondered if he was alright but you were a bit too startled to voice it. you took a moment to look into his eyes. he seemed very serious about it despite his next comment.

"just kidding. i know you have a life outside of hanging out with me. you thirsty?"

you smiled and nodded, "no, i brought water."

he smirked, "good. if you change your mind, i've got plenty of drinks."

"thanks... how are you?"

"i'm good. even better now that you're here."

his smile was genuine this time, nothing wild about it. it was beautiful as usual, somehow even sexier. like a grown man, not a random uni student with nice features. this had to be someone different entirely.

and as you sat and stared at him more while he filled you in further on his past couple weeks of not speaking to you often--which he greatly emphasized--you realized just how different he did look when you stared closely, observed, and heard some things. they weren't the usual comments, usual witty remarks and the occasional whimsy responses.

"yuji, are you sure you're alright?"

and the smile you watched grow from normal to really big to verging on deranged shook you to your core.

"not yuji."

the hand on your thigh grew tighter, threatening to break through the fabric of your stockings and tear through your skin. you weren't sure why or how it was possible, but the look he was giving you, the feeling of the pressure on your body --even in places untouched-- really turned you on. he looked positively fucked out...

"i... don't understand..."

"dissociative identity... you should know that, miss psych major. but perhaps you haven't been able to focus lately because you were so focused with this... idea of who we really are... not talking to us for weeks... being scarce... making our chest hurt... you should know better, princess. we don't take lightly to being ignored. under any circumstances."

your heart nearly beat out of your chest. you couldn't focus properly on anything for some reason. it was like he was putting you in a trance with his voice and touch alone. and it took you a moment to realize his hand slowly started running upward, pressing into your sensitive spots, never touching where you needed him most, just smooth, subtle back and forth very close and too far.

"oh."

a breathless response was all you could offer... and in turn, it was all he needed. he knew you wanted him even more after figuring this out. he knew you liked this "hurt little lamb with a side of wolf" idea of him. he knew exactly what you wanted, what you liked, and what you needed. he had plenty of time to learn you through the lenses of the child he shared a body with.

he just needed you pliant and willing, which you already were. he liked that, less effort for him to sway your mind.

because if princess treatment was what you wanted, he would serve it on a golden platter. he already knew you liked the other version of him enough, he knew you were ready for the switch even if you thought you weren't ready for the switch. but you would assimilate accordingly. right?

he would give you what you wanted and what you needed. he would pretend he needed saving so you could... heal him. he would be everything you needed him to be. and he would trap you with the baby he would help you raise. you were... breedable. he liked that a lot. he needed it.

his touches were needier, he grew closer, his lips whispering sweet promises of what was to come in your ear, kissing lightly up and down your neck, sucking on that sensitive little spot on your neck. pulled you closer so he could trail those kisses and bites down your shoulder.

he pulled that cute sweater off so he could see your beautiful body, he was gentle with a hint of aggression. he wanted you to feel comfortable yet desired fiercely. he needed to spear you. he needed to feel every part of you.

usually there was a condom readily available. but oh, so conveniently... "i ran out."

you were too turned on and turned out by him at this point to stop him. he was clean... and so were you... so there wasn't a problem. right?

he made quick work of your bra, licking your chest and making sure to leave those hickies you both loved so dearly. he made the sweetest love to your breasts. licking, sucking, kneading the other in one hand and switching between each nipple, each mound of flesh.

he loved your breathlessness, your soft moans, your fingers in his hair, the one rubbing up and down his arm to his back. the wet lips, the heavy breaths... and most of all those eyes... so fucked and barely touched... so sensitive...

he wanted to steal all of you from everyone you knew, everything you did daily, he wanted to have you all to himself every day in every kind of way.

he needed to see you from sun up to sun down.

he made quick work of your skirt and stockings, the pretty thong soaked in your nectar was a sight to behold. he took a mental screenshot, one he would recreate later... if you were willing.

he removed the thong, slowly being sucked between those beautiful lips with every growing second of your arousal. he made sure to pull from the center of the thing, pushing his finger between your lips purposely as he pulled the center back and tugged, leaving his finger soaked and your pussy wanting...

he lifted your legs as he pulled the thong down, but he liked the residue of your arousal nearby, so he left it wrapped around one thigh. entirely naked for him, open and ready and he barely touched you.

he wasn't sure if he wanted to eat you out, fuck you silly, or watch you do it all yourself and struggle to take all of him without his help...

he knew yuji liked doing all the work, pure princess treatment. but this time, he wanted to remove those privileges... punishment for his pretty princess this time...

which one?

[lewkwoodnco]

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day." 

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes. 

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?" 

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face. 

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that." 

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.” 

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope. 

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[betterinvienna]

" unprofessional " ; nanami kento

synopsis — nanami's patience grows thin in the office, but it's not because of the project you keep putting off | (nanami x gn!reader)

song inspo — i've never been in love before by laufey

tags — fluffish(?), office romance, flipping perspectives

content warnings — mention of stalking, gender neutral but reader does use a female marketed perfume and wears lipstick

word count — 2k

authors note — i miss u nanami come back home ill take u to malaysia. anyway this was more agonizing to write than i expected it would be i hope someone out there likes it

You make rational, well-thought-out, calm decisions, and always put your career first. If not, what else did you work so hard for?

If that stood true, you wouldn’t have been borderline teenage-esque awkward beside your coworker, Nanami Kento, as your boss went on and on about a new team project. In fact, maybe your mind would’ve been clear enough to hear an adequate chunk of the project so that you wouldn’t later be stuck in the sparsely decorated office of the aforementioned coworker as he criticized your contribution (or lack thereof) to said project, talking about – what again? – Right. See what I mean? Pay attention.

“Are you listening?” Nanami rumbles, causing your stomach to flip as you place a hand on your temple, nodding.

A pause. “Yeah – I mean – yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep and my car –”

However, he cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m not interested in personal matters.” Here – I’ll give you a quick spoiler. He’s lying. “Please complete this part,” – a gesture to his computer screen – “of the project by next month, or I’ll have no choice but to report to HR about this sudden lack of awareness in the office. Do you understand?” It’s clearly rhetorical because he gets up immediately after – you’re not that dumb — so you don’t attempt to respond. Nanami pops the manila folders into a wired organizer on his desk and exits his creaky seat to escort his guest out.

A nod and an uncomfortable, brief smile. “I will. Thank you, Mr. Kento.” 

. . . 

Eros Pour Femme. Versace. 

Top notes: Sicilian lemon, pomegranate, and Calabrian bergamot.

Shocker. Looks like he is interested in personal matters. It’s unmistakable. This is not regular knowledge; however, Nanami gets mind-numbingly high off your perfume. Obviously, he searched it up on Fragrantica last night, drunk off a “pinch” of whiskey and missing you. Don’t look at him like that – he’s normal.

If you’re still unconvinced, he’s at least as normal as a guy can get watching the epitome of his standard waltz around the break room, oblivious of her deafening effect on him. Nanami spots you filling up a lipstick-stained mug at the new Keurig coffee maker – the previous one had to be replaced after Haibara somehow flipped it on its side while it was running and left it like that – mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

He only realizes he’s staring once you’re staring back.

You give a formal “good afternoon” smile and return to what you were doing, but he spots the faint red tainting your ears and the nails digging into your palm. He’d love to massage the crescent indents they left, yet he looks the other way to avoid acting on it. He looks down into his coffee and stirs it, checking his watch. It’s good to know he has that effect on you, but he soon regrets the fleeting thought after he turns his head and watches you spill at least a third of your coffee all over your chest. 

If getting caught staring wasn’t enough embarrassment for the day, Nanami adds another regret to mull over tonight by getting up and offering a paper towel to you.

“It seems hot,” he muttered a faulty excuse to you (though more to convince himself) pale hand outstretched.

“Thank you,” you laugh awkwardly. “This is embarrassing. Please excuse me.” You start in the other direction, clearly humiliated. Luckily for you (and him – he doesn’t want anyone eyeing you) Nanami is gentlemanly enough to not let a lady walk cold.

“Take my jacket.” Without much thought, Nanami shrugs his pinstripe suit jacket off his broad shoulders and drapes it over yours. “It’s fine. I have a lot more at home.” He offers a tightlipped smile, keeping the professional piece together. Unfortunately, you look up and smile at him, saying something about a button-up shirt that flies past his ears and has him staring at your lips.

Again, he only realizes he’s staring once you’re silent. How’d he make it this far this absentminded?

“Is there a problem?” You prompt, and he clears his throat.

“No.” Tightlipped, formal smile again. Ugh, he’s so good at this. He needs a raise. And you. But he’d like that raise too.

. . . 

This week at the office has been as discomfiting as ever. Not because you have the matter of the team project at hand – though you want to keep your job, so you’ll make good progress on it later, perhaps – but because Nanami Kento keeps looking at you. Not in a “Get the project done or I’m gonna bash your head in with my signature mug” kind of way, but possibly a different way you can’t quite seem to put your finger on. For a man who so evidently boasts a simple, straightforward life, he’s harder to read than an elementary picture book. Like, The Very Hungry Caterpillar sort.

Sorry, that level of specificity seems uncalled for. Let’s resume.

Incident Number One: The Office.

If you told your friends this story, they wouldn’t believe you. It happened on Monday, a week after the Coffee Incident. Wait – maybe that one should’ve been marked as Incident Number One. Regardless, Nanami’s demeanor seems to have changed around you. This isn’t the surprising part, however. The atmosphere around anyone will change once they see you completely dehumanized by some espresso. 

Yet this atmosphere was less… tangible at first. Sitting in your fishbowl of an office, you’re conjuring up a monster of an email to the local manufacturing company for getting the fundraiser t-shirts all mixed up when you look up and notice Nanami Kento – 6 feet, one-seventy-something pounds, by the way – hiding behind the water cooler like an elephant behind a thin Saharan tree with a file in one hand and a mug in the other, taking two side glances into your office before walking off with the same, bored expression once he realized you witnessed the ordeal. Had you not seen him aggressively rub his jaw like he was bothered as he walked off, you would’ve thought you’d done something wrong.

Okay. Let’s put two and two together. Is it crazy to say Nanami Kento is irked by your presence? Are you full of yourself or just observant?

Say we go the observant route. That would explain Incidents Number Two to a Million: The Parking Lot.

Nanami is infamous in the office for leaving exactly when dismissed – no need to stay around when you’re as efficient as he is. However, you’re notorious for the contrary. You stay late often times, as you handle financial disputes – and there’s a million of them.

The sky darkened as you shut your laptop and checked your watch – nearly midnight – and popped your head outside your office. To your surprise, Nanami’s office light was on, and even if you strained, you couldn’t hear keys clacking. Okay. Weird. Packing up your stuff, you put on your shoulder bag and breeze past his office.

The instant you’re in his line of sight, Mr. Kento begins to pack up his essentials as well, shuffling behind you until you both reach the elevator, where the two of you stand in silence until you reach the ground floor, where you go to your car and unlock it, driving off as Nanami does the same. But rewind. The moment you step out into the chilly night, he lingers behind and there’s a burning set of eyes on you until you reach your car. Had this been a coincidence, you would’ve shrugged it off and counted it as a gentlemanly gesture he’d done in the heat of the moment.

But it wasn’t.

Because it happened on the next day, Tuesday.

Then Wednesday.

Then Thursday.

Now, it’s happened on Friday.

Now we’re putting four and four together. It is not crazy to say Nanami Kento is looking out for you. Obviously, you’re not complaining about 6 feet of gorgeousness stalking behind you each day, but those two incidents combined? You have a bold assumption to make, but it’s going to take a bit more evidence to assert it.

. . . 

Nanami Kento is a patient man, but you prove to be pushing his limits.

For the first time in a long time, Nanami Kento felt giddy over someone. Like, he’s excited to see you. He thinks himself to be a genius of sorts, surreptitiously escorting you to your car when you stay late and sneaking glances at you when you aren’t paying attention.

He even feels nervous. Clearly, he doesn’t show it – age has refined his Herculean ability to suppress showing emotion in great quantity – but he feels nervous around you.

. . . 

Remember the evidence you needed? Thankfully, Nanami Kento gave you exactly that – and more – after the obligatory employee meeting. Your boss swears up and down it was originally for team bonding, but when he begins to complain about the progress everyone has made on the team project, you realize it’s going differently this time, again. 

“If we don’t get this done, we’re going to lose a couple thousand. I don’t know how much longer I have to drive the point home,” a snarky glance to you, “but no other assignment is more important than the task at hand right now.” Is he serious? A loss of a couple thousand for a million dollar company is peak stinginess. And a call out in front of the whole staff?

It only gets worse after the conference when Nanami pulls you aside and informs you, once again, about your work on the project. 

“Excuse me for this, but as the subunit leader, I do have to inform you that you still haven’t made much progress on the proj–”

You cut him off, worn out. “I don’t need you on my back, Mr. Kento.” An annoying smile from you, so that you can drive the point home that the workload has been too heavy this month – and entirely too important – to be focusing on something you can get done in 2 days. “I can get it done. Please have faith in my skills.” An eloquent way of saying “Shut up and leave me alone.”

“I understand, however, external assignments cannot be tolerated right now. Please trust me, you’re not the only person in this subunit who hasn’t completed their fair share. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you’re excluded.”

Now the air feels hot and you aren’t sure if it’s because of your proximity, anger, or both, but you mumble something you regret, channeling your previous teenage energy. “Yeah, well you seem like you sure are excluding me. I told you to get off my back.” Nanami’s face hardens, seemingly mildly irritated as your mouth, unfortunately, decides to keep running, louder this time. “You and Mr. Whats-His-Face can’t leave me alone. I apologize for my insane informality, but I will get it done. You cannot expect one person to juggle so many tasks at once. I’m already multitasking, and that –” you make a dismissive waving gesture with your hands, “mediocre – again, I apologize – project is the least of my worries. I can get it done. Just – please. It’s like you all want to be this needy, overbearing boyfriend at this point.” At the end of your rant, you sigh heavily and look up at him, and his expression is once again, unreadable, yet stunning. There’s not a single beat of silence before he responds.

“I do, though.” What?

“What?”

“I do.”

You throw your hands up in the air and huff, still confused. “You what?”

“I want to take you on a date. Not be needy and overbearing, though. Don’t mistake me.” He does not apologize for the bluntness, but instead for how sudden it was.” I wanted to do this in a more romantic and ceremonious setting, but it appears that you have me blurting.” He rechecks his watch like the sudden confession isn’t anything big. “And I apologize for the constant probing – on both ends.” Your heart thumps in your ears. He gives you a lopsided smirk, expectant and unnaturally awkward for Nanami Kento.

"Nanami…” 

“May I take you out on a date?”