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cherrylibby · 3 days ago

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In Sickness and Care

You weren’t feeling well the night before. You thought you were just overtired, brushing off the slight ache in your body and deciding to turn in early. But when you wake the next morning, the feeling is worse—a dull pounding in your head, your limbs heavy and aching. You roll over, your body protesting, and your eyes fall on Jake, who’s still sound asleep. His face looks so serene, his features softened in the morning light, his lips slightly parted.

You take a deep breath, determined not to let this sluggishness ruin your day. Ignoring the protest of your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and push yourself to your feet.

The house is quiet as you shuffle toward the kitchen, each step feeling like a chore. Your head spins slightly, but you brush it off and start preparing breakfast. The sound of eggs sizzling in the pan fills the air, and you try to convince yourself you’re fine.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake stirs. A light sleeper, he immediately notices the empty space beside him. Groggily, he glances at the clock on the bedside table—8 a.m. Way too early for you to be up, especially when you hadn’t been feeling well. Concern flickers in his chest as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and gets up.

Walking into the kitchen, Jake stops in the doorway, his brows knitting together at the sight of you. You’re standing at the counter, moving slowly, your shoulders hunched.

“Babe… why aren’t you in bed? You’re never up this early,” he asks, his voice laced with confusion and worry.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mutter, trying to sound casual. You avoid looking at him, focusing on flipping the eggs instead.

Jake narrows his eyes, stepping closer. There’s something off—your movements are sluggish, and the dark circles under your eyes are hard to miss. He knows you well enough to see right through your act.

“Babe,” he says softly, his voice firmer now. “You look terrible. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You wave him off with a weak laugh, but Jake doesn’t buy it. He moves behind you, placing a steady hand on your back and the other on your forehead.

The moment his palm touches your skin, Jake’s eyes widen. “Babe, you’re burning up,” he says, alarmed.

You try to protest, mumbling, “It’s nothing, Jake. I’m fine, really.”

But Jake shakes his head, his jaw tightening with determination. “No, you’re not. You’re all hot—it’s obvious you have a fever. You need to go back to bed.”

Before you can argue, Jake gently grabs your shoulders and turns you to face him. He gives you a look that allowed no argument, his hands firm but careful.

“Come on,” he murmurs, already steering you toward the bedroom. “You’re not doing anything today. You’re staying in bed and resting until that fever’s down.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the exhaustion in your body speaks louder than your words. Jake guides you back to bed, tucking the covers around you with a tenderness that makes your heart ache more than the fever.

“I’ll take care of breakfast,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your damp forehead. “And I’m taking care of you, too.” His voice is soft but resolute.

You feel the fight drain out of you as you sink into the mattress, his warmth and concern already making you feel a little better.

A few minutes later, Jake walks back into the room with a tray in hand—toast, some tea, and a small bowl of fruit. He sets it carefully on the nightstand, sitting beside you and helping you sit up.

“Eat a little,” he insists gently. “You need something in your system. Then I’ll grab some medicine for that fever.”

You take a few bites, feeling his watchful gaze as he makes sure you’re comfortable. True to his word, he disappears for a moment and returns with a cool washcloth, placing it carefully on your forehead.

“Just rest, okay?” he says, his voice soft as he pulls up a chair beside the bed. He keeps his hand on yours, his thumb stroking it gently as he watches over you.

He moved so he was laying down, shifting you so you were laying on top of him, the blanket now covering both of you

"You just rest...focus on getting better. Then you and I are gonna have a talk about why you didn't wake me up sooner when you started feeling bad, okay...?"

"okay" i nod

For the rest of the day, Jake doesn’t leave your side. He keeps you hydrated, makes sure you take your medicine, and checks your temperature every couple of hours. Whenever you stir, his soothing voice is there, reassuring you that he’s got everything under control.

As evening falls, you feel the fever beginning to break, but Jake still stays close, his presence a comforting anchor. “See? I told you I’d take care of you,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your forehead lightly.

You smile weakly, grateful beyond words. Jake gives you a small, warm smile back. “Now rest, babe. I’ve got you.”

Few hours later, the sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred, the weight of the blanket a comforting presence over you. As your eyes fluttered open, the sight of Jake sitting beside you came into focus. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. He had been watching over you, concern etched into every feature.

The moment he felt you moving, he opened his eyes wider and raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. "Mornin’, sleepyhead… Did you manage to get some rest?”

His voice was a low murmur, warm and familiar, carrying the faintest trace of relief. You blinked up at him, your throat dry and still a little sore.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from being sick.

Jake smiled, a quiet, amused huff escaping him as he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Normally, yes. But considering you’re sick, there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere right now. I’m not leaving you on your own if you’re unwell…”

His hand moved to your forehead, his palm warm and steady as he checked for any lingering fever. The care in his gesture made your chest tighten slightly, the tenderness almost overwhelming. “How are you feeling? Better at all?”

You gave a small nod, your lips curving into a faint smile. "A little bit.”

His face softened at your response, his relief evident. He sat back slightly, exhaling deeply.

“I’m glad to hear that. But I have to ask you something,” he said, his tone shifting ever so slightly, a note of seriousness entering his voice. “Remember when I said I was gonna have a talk with you about why you didn’t wake me up sooner when you started feeling sick?”

You bit your lip, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "I’m sorry,” you whispered, your gaze dropping.

Jake shook his head, his expression a mixture of exasperation and affection.

“Babe, I told you already, you have nothing to be sorry for… But can you please tell me why you didn’t wake me up? Were you trying to play it off as if you weren’t sick or something?”

You hesitated, your voice barely above a murmur when you finally spoke. "I didn’t want to burden you�� You’re already stressed with work.”

His sigh was deep and weighted, a mixture of frustration and love as he leaned closer. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing softly over your skin." You’re never a burden, my darling. You’re not ever gonna be a burden to me. There’s no reason for you not to have come and woken me up when you started feeling sick. And I’ve told you before—I would do anything for you, including helping you if you’re sick.”

His voice was steady, yet there was an edge of vulnerability to it, as though he couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering in silence. His gaze locked onto yours, unwavering and filled with emotion. "Don’t ever think you’re gonna be a burden to me, okay? I don’t care what I have going on. I want you to wake me up if you’re ever feeling ill. I don’t care how early it is, or how late it is. I don’t care if I’m tired. I will help you no matter what. Do you understand?”

You nodded slowly, the intensity of his words sinking into your heart. "Okay.”

Jake’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile, and he leaned in closer, his forehead briefly touching yours. "Good. I hope you mean that, and that you’ll wake me up the next time you start feeling unwell. I don’t care when, as long as you’re not suffering on your own, alright?”

Your voice was soft, but sincere as you replied. “Okay… I love you.”

The smile that spread across his face was radiant, filled with a warmth that made you feel cherished beyond measure. He gently tugged you closer, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he looked down at you with unspoken adoration. "I love you too, my darling… More than you’ll ever know. And I don’t care if I have to remind you every day—you are never a burden to me, not ever. I will always be here to help you and care for you, no matter what.”

Before you could respond, he closed the small distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. His touch was tender, the kiss conveying every bit of love and reassurance he couldn’t put into words. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes gazing into yours with quiet devotion.

“Promise me you’ll always let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded again, your heart full as you leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. "I promise.”

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun hangman #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader

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dxrlingluv · 2 days ago

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Player || Lee Myung-gi

Series : Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 : Red Light, Green Light

Description : In which you desperately try to outrun a terrifying robotic doll in the deadly children's game of Red Light, Green Light, where one wrong move means certain death.

Lee Myung-gi x Fem!Reader

The possibility of only 1 player winning this game is high, but with the option to call off the game at anytime, there's a higher chance that you and Myung-gi would be able to get home safely with minor injuries and money that you both can combine to call off his debt.

"But then... If the majority of the players voted to continue the game..." You scrunched your brows as you continue to listen to the guards.

"Excuse me! Move it!" You looked to see an old lady moving her way to the front frantically as she approached the guy that has glasses and curly hair.

"Stupid idiot!" She slapped the guy's arm.

"Ma?!"

You gasp, his mother? What could have happened that made them both go here? His mom looks too nice to even have debts.

"Mom, what are you doing here?!" He yelled, checking his to see if she was hurt or anything.

"That's what I was gonna ask you!" She yelled back, clearly angry at her son. Her son looked around in embarrassment.

"What on earth do you think you're doing here?!"

Watching their argument made you miss your own mom. She often yell at you for doing things for her. She only wants you to study hard, but you can't help but feel bad that she's doing everything around the house. You felt guilty that you were just eating, sleeping, showering, and studying all day. You wanted nothing but to take her pain away from her but just like you, she's also stubborn as hell.

You smiled softly from the memories as you chose not to stick up your nose on the mother and son business. But what caught your attention was the reason she was here.

"What's gotten into you, old woman?!" Player 007 yelled.

"Oh, you wanna know why I'm here, huh?!" She yelled back. "To pay off my ungrateful son's debt!"

You felt bad, as you are experiencing something like she is experiencing right now.

Looking around, you tried to find Myung-gi again, but to no avail, he seems to disappear from where he was before.

"If you wish to participate in the games, then please sign the player consent form." The square guard announced.

Player 196 grabbed your arm and dragged you off to form a line. She pulled you in front of her then hugged your shoulders.

"We're gonna make it out from this games, alright?" She enthusiastically said. You nodded in response with a smile.

After signing the consent forms, 196 grabbed your arm again and pulled you to the side. (Please pretend that Myung-gi isn't behind her, just pretend that Myung-gi is at least 3-4 ft away from ya'll lol)

"196, your name is Kang Mi-na, right?" You asked with a raised brow.

She looked back at you with a cute smile, "Yeah? You like it?" She asked playfully.

You laughed and nodded. "Yeah! Do you mind if I call you Mi-na?"

You both sat down on a random bed side by side. She then shook her head, "No, I don't mind. In fact since you're so cute, I'll even let you call me nicknames."

You stared at her with widened eyes, "Oh! Thank you for saying that. I think you look beautiful too." You complimented, your cheeks turning slightly blushed at her compliment.

She looked at you with narrowed eyes and a pout, "I like you. We're friends now." She said as she side hugged you. "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"Your name, what's your name?"

"... L/n Y/n," you mumbled, holding her arm, "but you can call me anything you want."

Sho looked at you with a genuine smile, "Hey, once we get out here, let's drink some soju and go at theme parks, okay?"

"Okay!"

After Myung-gi signed the form, he moved to the side but was immediately greeted by Thanos and another guy with the number 124. They claimed that they got scammed by MG Coin and thanks to Myung-gi, they bonded together.

"Didn't those fuckers who made that shit-coing flew to the philippines with all the cash they took?" Player 124 scoffed, "What are you doing here? They ditch you too?"

"So what exactly do you want-?"

Before Myung-gi could finish, Thanos harshly grabbed a hold pf his nape with fury on his face.

You turned your head after hearing all the gasps from. Curious, you turned to look at what's happening but couldn't see anything from the people barricading the view.

Cautiously, you made your way behind the lines in order to see what was happening. You have a nagging feeling on your chest that something was wrong and you wont risk that feeling.

Player 196 followed you closely behind, constantly asking you where you were going and what you're doing.

"You'd be a fucking idiot!"

Was all you heard at the moment. That voice sounded familiar so you fastened your movements. "Excuse me." You mumbled to anyone who's at your front.

You finally made it to the corner and you saw purple hair and... unexpectedly, your boyfriend.

As Thanos was about to throw a punch at him, player 124 stopped him. "Who, chill, bro! Time out, time out, time out!"

Then without wasting a second, you approached them but before you could, player 196 grabbed you. She shook her head, silently telling you not to intervene.

Thanos let go of Myung-gi and after a second, he turned back and walked away. Leaving Myung-gi alone.

As he neared you and Player 196, he winked. Player 196 did the bother to bat an eye.

Myung-gi scoffed, but his face softened when he finally saw you looking at him.

196 let go of your arm. As if it was an instinct, you ran up to myung-gi, grabbing his face and checking if he had any injuries.

"Myung-gi! Are you alright? Shit! I was so worried." You frantically exclaimed, constantly grabbing his face, shoulder and arms.

"Y/n.."

You ignored him as you just continued ti ask him and check him.

"Y/n!"

That made you stop.

You looked at him. "Myung-gi..."

He looked at you sternly, "What are you doing here?" He grabbed your arms gently, "You're not supposed to be here!" He whispered yelled.

"I-" You couldn't form any words.

Just then, the square guard spoke again. "If all players are done signing the consent form, we will move on to the first game."

After taking a quick picture for identity, everyone climbed up the stairs to move on to the first game.

Once everyone was there, you were greeted with huge green doors, the doors opened and everyone immediately went in only to see a large empty area, and a huge doll with two guards beside it.

Myung-gi gripped your hands tight. "Don't do far from me, okay?" He told you with worry laced on his voice.

You nodded, "Okay, I promise, I won't."

The doors behind loudly closed, and soon followed an automated voice of a woman. "Welcome to the first game. You will be playing Red Light, Green Light."

"Seriously? A kid's game?" Myung-gi muttered, his hand still on yours.

"I wouldn't call it as just "a kid's game". There's something fishy going on here." You muttered back at him as you continue listening to the automated voice.

"Everyone!" A guy suddenly yelled.

You looked at the front, 'What is it now?'

"Everybody, you need to pay attention! Listen up!" He yelled loudly. Everyone quieted down.

"I'm gonna tell you something and you gotta listen close!" He continued, "This isn't just a game, it's more than that. If you move after "red light," you're going to be shot!!!"

Everyone chuckled at that, finding it funny that someone can joke about that at this hour.

However, you and Myung-gi looked at each other. It sounds ridiculous, but he looks too sure about it.

'What if...'

"I swear, if they catch you moving, you're gonna be killed! They're gonna shoot you because there's guns in the walls!"

"There's no way that it's true." Myung-gi mumbled.

"He reminds me of when my dad was drunk and he thought he saw aliens above the sky," you chuckled, letting go of Myung-gi to hug yourself as it was starting to get colder.

'When is this game gonna start. Seriously?'

"What is this bullshit?"

"I think he's just trying to freak people out! Then he wouldn't have to share the money. He could win all of it."

"Hey, you bastard, you're not fooling us!"

The doll moved and that made everyone stop their murmuring.

Then it shouted, "Green light!"

Everyone immediately ran.

"Red light!"

Player 456 moved his hand to motion for us to stop.

Myung-gi spoke not far from behind me, "y/n, be careful"

You hummed, not wanting to move in fear that whatever this guy was saying is true.

No body moved, as 456 instructed us clearly.

"Green light!"

Moving a few steps to the front, Myung-gi took hold of your hand.

"Red light!"

"FREEZE!"

You flinched, shocked from the louder shout of the guy. At this point, he'll be the one to kill you.

You held still, the bad feeling on your gut still evident.

"Green light!"

Few steps to the front.

"Red light!"

Player 456 shouted, "Hold Still!"

Not even a few seconds passed, "green light!"

"Red light!"

"Green light!"

"Red light!"

The exchange between player 456 and the doll has becoming ridiculous now, but no one has been eliminated yet, so you were thankful for him.

A few more green light, red light and no one was still eliminated.

Until, "Red light!"

BANG!

Everyone flinched, you moved your eyes in search for whoever got eliminated.

You gasped, tears threatening to run out of your eyes.

Player 196!

You continued to stare as blood pooled around her head, having been clearly shot in the head.

Beside her was Thanos who stared in shock but refuses to move a muscle, in fear of being next.

Suddenly, people started panicking after seeing the dead body, they tried their best to run away from the field and onto the green doors, but to no avail, they all got shot.

Myung-gi held your hand tighter.

Continuing the game, player 456 instructed everyone to move behind someone bigger as the doll wont be able to see if you got covered even if you move.

Myung-gi moved you behind him as he himself moved behind someone.

"Green light!"

"Red light!"

BANG!

"Green light!"

"Red light"

"Green light!"

"Red light!"

You groaned, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

"Y/n! Are you okay? Just- just hold on a little longer..." Myung-gi spoke as you clutched his jacket.

"Green light!"

"Red light"

BANG!

"Green light!"

"Red light"

BANG!

As if time slowed, you jumped to the pink line, signifying that you now passed the game.

You clutched your stomach as Myung-gi immediately went to comfort you. You couldn't help but cry as everything is going down hill now.

BANG!

"It's okay, I'm here. I'm here."

Myung-gi said, as he continue to pat your head.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you. It's okay."

BANG!

#lee myung gi #lee myung gi x reader #player 333 #player 333 squid game #player 333 x reader #reader insert #squid game #squid game player 333 #squid game x reader #myung gi x reader #myung gi #myung gi squid game #lee myeong gi #lee myeong gi x reader #squid game myung gi #squid game lee myung hi #squid game lee myeong gi #squid game myeong gi

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rivalsispunk · 2 days ago

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The Interview (Chapter 1 of ongoing series When We’re Alone)

Best friend’s dad!Declan O’Hara, boss!Declan O’Hara x AFAB reader

Journalist Declan O’Hara is in need of a personal assistant as his Corinium career skyrockets, and his daughter Taggie has the perfect candidate: her best friend. What seemingly starts as a professional relationship soon snowballs into something both Declan and reader were never expecting and are no longer able to deny.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, (eventual) smut, cursing, age gap romance (reader is a few years older than Taggie), more warnings added per chapter

Word count: 3.1k

Author’s note: Hello! Long time reader, first time poster! Please be kind but also let me know what you think! Proof read but probs still some mistakes. Not entirely canon, Declan still works for Corinium, Maud has disappeared to god knows where and the rest, well, you’ll have to read to find out :)

Chapter One: The Interview

You were going to positively kill Taggie once you returned to the Cotswolds. Only she, your closest friend since you relocated to the country after finishing your university degree six months ago, could convince you to cut your gap year short in favour of interviewing for a personal assistant job at Corinium. And, for her father, Declan O’Hara, no less.

“Oh, go on!” Taggie had pleaded with you over The Priory’s kitchen counter. “I know you’re getting bored out here. You can’t spend all of your days sitting around here, helping me peel the shite out of prawns for dinner parties.”

“Why not?” You plucked a grape from the fruit platter she’d just finished assembling for an event at Freddie and Valerie Jones’ that evening. “I happen to like spending all my time with you. Even if it does mean peeling shite out of crustaceans.” You eyed your friend with faux suspicion. “Are you getting sick of me already?”

“Of course not! I just think you’d be grand at it, that’s all, what with your journalism degree and all,” Taggie explained. “You’ve heard Daddy when he comes home. Always complaining about the sorts he’s had to interview. Plus, he already knows you. That’s ought to win you some points right there.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be all bad,” you confessed, mulling the opportunity over as you chewed through another handful of grapes. It would look amazing on your resume and you’d have a foot in the door at one of the biggest TV networks in the United Kingdom. Plus, it wouldn’t kill you to have a front row seat to Declan in all his glory every single day. You would never mention it to Taggie, but you fancied her dad a rather handsome sod.

“Say you’ll do it. At the very least, for me?” Taggie bat her thick eyelashes at you.

“Fine,” you eventually relented, a smile cracking over your face at the new possibility. “I’ll go in for an interview, but no promises. And I don’t want you convincing him of me either! I want to get this job on my own merit, okay?”

“Convince Daddy of you? Please, he already adores you.” The sentiment spread fire through your chest. Tag rounded the kitchen bench and grabbed you by the hand. “Now let’s find you an outfit! Mummy ought to have left something halfway suitable behind.”

Taggie nor Declan had said much about their absentee matriarch Maud in the recent weeks since she fled the countryside after yet another explosive argument between her and her husband. You knew better than to ask, but you could tell by the way Taggie’s shoulders sagged at the sight of her mother’s partially empty closet that her absence had a somber affect on her.

You’d only been into the main bedroom of The Priory once before, when the room was overtaken by Maud’s florally perfumes and extravagant evening gowns. This time, however, the space was so intrinsically Declan; all heady cedarwood and whisky and smoke. Shirts with patterns of plaid and tartan as well as numerous odd, natural-coloured socks were peppered across armchairs and vanities, while a stack of memoirs sat on his bedside with a full ashtray perched atop. Your heart swelled, and sunk simultaneously, at the thought of Declan being sat up here alone at night, or early of a morning, thumbing through a book while taking slow drags of his cigarette as he let himself be consumed by a life far different to the one he was currently living.

“How about this?” Taggie’s voice ripped through your daydream, forcing you away from thoughts of her father. You peered at the oatmeal-coloured dress she had retrieved from the closet, surprised that Maud owned something so…brown. You’d always known her to wear jewel tones that complimented her flaming red hair. You shook your head, and thus began a cycle of Taggie suggesting an outfit and you shooting it down. Eventually, you agreed to Taggie swapping out your creature comfort jeans and Wham! T-shirt for an old black pencil skirt that you were convinced had given you hives from the way your legs hadn’t stopped itching since you put it on, as well as a silky fuchsia blouse that stretched a little too tight over your breasts. While your friend had done a good job at assuring you that you’d fit right in at the Corinium offices, you weren’t as convinced.

The receptionists, all in latest season fashion with not a hair out of place, had looked you up and down as soon as you stepped foot in the marble foyer, snickering behind your back about your fashion fauxpas once you’d checked in. Sarah Stratton wasn’t as covert with her judgement. As you sat outside Declan’s office, waiting to be called in, Sarah outwardly guffawed when she spotted you across the floor. You’d met her several times in passing at parties and Corinium events you’d previously attended as Taggie’s plus one, and for the most part, she’d kept her observations to herself. But now, as her red heels clip across the carpet, her gaze set right on you with her matching rouge lips upturned. “I would never have expected to see you here, darling!” she coos down at you, reaching for a strand of hair that has slipped in front of your shoulder. “And playing dress ups, no less!” Another laugh tinkers out of her as she twirls your hair around her finger. “Interviewing for the assistant job with Declan, hm?”

You nod with a taut smile and try not to let her comment about you looking god-awfully out of place get to you. Sarah’s eyes shift to Declan’s closed mahogany door and tuts. “Well, good luck, sweetheart. Seems like you’ll need it with the way the rest of those interviews have panned out.”

“Oh, hop off it, Sarah!” an unmistakingly Irish voice barks from your left. Sarah jolts upright and despite the embarrassment that tinges her cheeks pink, still manages throw a sultry smile in Declan’s direction. Your posture matches her pin-straight stature as you side-eye his office. It hadn’t occurred to you that he wasn’t inside, preparing for your interview the way you had been all morning. You’d crafted your pitch of yourself perfectly, complete with ideas and suggestions for potential guests for Declan’s show, anything to set you apart, make you seem even a fraction less useless that the interviewees that came before you. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Where’s James?” he questions Sarah, alluding to the very common knowledge that she and her co-host James Vereker are having an affair. Declan makes a show of raking through his moustache - god, that moustache - then adds with a smirk, “James and better. Probably not two words that should be in the same sentence, eh?” Sarah’s smile plateaus at that, and that stiff upper-lip culture she was dying to marry into takes its place.

“I’m sure I can make myself busy, Declan. Got a show to prepare and all that. Ciao!” She doesn’t look at you again and you’re grateful that Declan starts to speak before you bumblefuck your way through the silence.

“Ciao,” he repeats once Sarah’s out of earshot . “Doubt that leech of a woman’s ever had a decent carbonara, let alone stepped foot in Italy.” he says, offering you the first genuine smile you’ve received all day. “Let’s get to it, shall we?” He swings open his office door and holds an arm out. “After you, love.”

“Thanks.”

You shuffle into the room ahead of him, completely oblivious to the way Declan’s eyes are trained on your arse in a skirt that’s familiar to him, but he’s unsure how. Right now, however, he doesn’t care, because it fits your body so magnificently, as if it were made for you. He fights to ignore the dull throb beneath his trousers while he watches you sit, the black fabric pushed to its limits as it stretches across the globes of your arse.

God, has she always been so… womanly? Declan wonders, then immediately chastises himself for leering so openly at his daughter’s best friend. Yes, she was a few good years older than Taggie, and always a beautiful girl, but he was glad his middle child had finally made a friend amid the shitshow that was the move to the country and his crumbling marriage to Maud. He didn’t need to muddy the waters with pervacious thoughts about the young lass’ curves. If only she’d shown up to his office in her usual ripped jeans and George Michael-adorned tees.

“Everything okay, Mr O’Hara? Should I sit somewhere else?” you ask when you notice Declan frozen in the doorway with a furrow etched in his brow. You immediately start second-guessing yourself and wonder if this was a bad idea after all. You can only imagine everyone else who lost out on this job before you faced that same expression. He shakes his head at you, at himself, then busies himself with straightening his maroon tie as he moves to sit behind his desk. You shift in your seat, trying to thwart of the lingering itch Maud’s skirt has buried into the back of your thigh. You think if you can wriggle just so, you can ward it off for at least the main portion of the interview. While you think your subtle movements go unnoticed by Declan because he’s perusing your resume - impressive, he’d earlier noted in black pen beside details of your internship at The Times - he’s been clocked onto your behaviour since he’d laid eyes on you across the office. Scared shitless, and he doesn’t half know that Sarah’s sneaky comments only added to it, thanks to the way you’re fidgeting with that damned skirt mere metres away from him. If Declan had any less sense in him, any less dignity, he’d have half the mind to tear it straight from your body. Of course, he decides against it and tries a less barbaric approach to settle your nerves.

“No band t-shirt today?”

Now it’s your turn for your brows to knit together. “I’m sorry?” Declan nudges his head in the general direction of your chest and your chin dips in response to see what he’s referring to. There, your vision is flanked with fluorescent pink and a tinge of flesh where the silky material doesn’t quite stretch to cover your breasts between buttons, and you silently curse Taggie for allowing you to wear something so borderline revealing at her father’s workplace. Plus, you were surprised he’d even noticed your usual attire.

“I thought it was best I grow up a bit in the clothing department if I were to go for a job at Corinium,” you confess. Declan doesn’t miss the way the swell of your breasts arch against your shirt when you take a deep breath and fold your arms across yourself. “But now I’m thinking the bright pink was a mistake.”

You peer across the expansive wooden desk expectantly, and Declan pitches his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t ask me! Fashion, clearly, is not my strong suit. All I know is, according to my girls, leaving the house with ladders in your tights is a big no-no unless you’re a gothic or Winona Ryder.”

You chuckle at that, even more so for knowing that his youngest daughter, Caitlin, would be all for half-shredded tights.

Declan looks coy as he sips from his tea. “But if it counts for anything, you look lovely.”

“Well, I should hope you think so. These are your wife’s clothes, after all.” Your confession elicits a splutter from the otherwise put together man in front of you. Tea spouts from his lips across the desk, marring your resume and any other papers with brown stains. You immediately spring into action, scanning the room for a towel, handkerchief, anything that could mop up the mess.

“Sorry, love,” Declan says quietly, thumping a fist against his chest. “Wrong pipe.”

That’s when you see it, a pocket square the same colour as his tie poking from his breast pocket. Without thinking, you lurch across Declan’s desk and pluck it from its resting place, and begin soaking up the liquid. Declan ought to help you, it’s his mess after all, but he’s frozen at the view you’ve awarded him as you lean over. Your cleavage fights against the V cut of Maud’s blouse and Declan can just make out the ripple of a black lace bra below the neckline. He can’t even imagine Maud in that outfit. Right now it’s all so you. His cock stirs at the sight and he can’t help the pained groan that bubbles up his throat.

“Stop,” he breathes in barely a whisper. You don’t, of course, you can’t hear him, and you keep wiping at the desk, your breasts bouncing with every swipe up and down.

“Christ, girl, stop it!” Declan explodes, bolting up from his chair. Thankfully, the height of his desk hides his growing bulge, but it doesn’t matter. The look of pure fear painting your face has the same effect as a cold shower. You sink back into your seat and begin spluttering apologies, that you shouldn’t have used his pocket square, that you were out of line and another dozen variations of sorry, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Declan mirrors you by returning to his chair, raking a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he states eventually. “I don’t give a dying rats arse about the pocket square. It’s just… I’m a bloody fool just standing here while you clean up after me. I can’t have you doing that. You don’t even work for me.”

Despite the shock of Declan’s outburst, you manage to muster up a bit of cheek in response. “I don’t even work for you yet,” you correct him.

Your confidence juts Declan’s eyebrows to his curly hairline and a grin cracks across his face. “Cocky little thing, aren’t ya? Go on then.. tell me why I should hire you.”

You spend the next twenty minutes talking Declan through your university studies and experience, the tension from earlier already forgotten. When Declan mentions he once worked with your media law professor, the conversation detours into the pair of you sharing stories about your experiences with the man, far too senile and set in his ways to do the younger generation any good. The rest of the interview carries on like that, you and Declan laughing and exchanging anecdotes like two friends in the pub rather than an employer vetting a potential employee. You’re about to pitch the idea of getting Farah Fawcett on Declan’s show when the office door thumps open to reveal Corinium’s managing director, Tony Baddingham, at its entryway.

“O’Hara! If you’re done with giggling like a little schoolgirl down here, we’ve got a production meeting to get to,” he bites, barely glancing in your direction. You don’t miss the roll of Declan’s tawny eyes as he waves Tony off.

“Alright, Tony. Give me five, I’m just finishing up here,” he says before introducing you by name.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Baddingham,” you tell him, standing to shake his hand. He doesn’t properly look at you until your palms meet, and your spine stiffens when his beady eyes rake over you.

“One of Declan’s assistant candidates, I presume?” he wonders aloud.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, you’re far prettier than some of the other trolls we’ve had roll through here recently.”

“Tony,” Declan warns. The last thing he wants is another man leering at you like you’re a rite of passage for them.

“Right, well, lovely to meet you,” Tony clasps his other hand over the top of yours, careening his neck so he’s at your eye level. “Hope to see you around here. You’ll definitely be a much-appreciated addition.”

Offering a tight-lipped smile, you reserve the urge bawk in his face. You’ve worked with enough Tony Baddinghams to know his interest in you has nothing to do with your professional ability and everything to do with aesthetics. Fucking men.

For the most part, they sickened you and Declan all the same, but for the latter, he was mainly sickened with himself for wanting to pummel Baddingham for the way he was eye-fucking you. But who was he to talk? He’d been doing the exact same thing just minutes earlier.

When Tony leaves the office, he leaves the door ajar, a reminder that Declan is expected elsewhere. You’re about to ask Declan if Tony is always so…Tony, but he’s already got his briefcase in hand and is ushering you towards the door. “I have to admit, I was surprised when Taggie said you wanted to interview for this position, with you being on a gap year and all,” he confessed as you strolled out onto the office floor. “But you know your stuff. You’re bloody intelligent. Passionate. That’s rare these days.”

“Thank you, Mr O’Hara.”

“Please, call me Declan. Here, and at The Priory. Just Declan,” he smiles and you return it.

“Alright, then. Declan.”

“I’ve got to get going, but I’ll let you know about the job. There’s a couple more interviews on the books in the next few days, I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.”

Declan gives you a curt nod, and you start for the elevator, but you barely make it five steps before he calls you back.

“For what it’s worth, I’d be lucky to have ya here. And like I said, you look great, but I prefer the jeans and t-shirts. They’re much more…you.”

His admission sends your heart thrumming against your ribcage, and red creeps up your neck and onto your cheeks. “Thank you, Mr O’Ha- Declan,” you correct yourself. “Thank you, Declan. See you around.” You turn on your patent black heel, leaving Declan standing there with an image that’s bound to haunt him for nights to come: you in that fucking skirt.

Please let me know if you enjoyed this, and if you’re feeling generous, a lil’ reblog won’t go astray <3

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mofongomuncher · 2 days ago

Text

𝙃𝙚𝙧 (PT 2)

(Ekko X Reader)

❥ cast : ! Ekko and Reader ¡

The days following their argument were long, stretching into what felt like an eternity. Y/N tried to keep her distance, give him time to breathe, but every moment apart only deepened the chasm between them. It wasn’t just Ekko anymore—it was.

It was jinx

Every time she thought about her, Y/N could feel her blood boil, could feel the growing resentment bubbling beneath her skin. It wasn't rational, she knew that. Ekko had said it himself—Jinx wasn't the same person she once was, that she wasn't even the same person anymore.

But it didn't matter. The truth was, Y/N was starting to hate her. She hated the way Jinx still haunted Ekko, the way she lingered in his every thought, in every word he spoke.

She wasn't stupid. She had seen the way Ekko's face softened whenever Jinx was mentioned, the way his voice trembled with guilt and regret. She could feel it—a constant reminder that he wasn't fully hers. Not while Jinx was still there, buried deep inside his heart.

Y/N didn't even want to think about what they had gone through. The loss, the violence, the twisted game Jinx had played on that ship. Every time she closed her eyes, the memory of the Firelights' death toll flashed before her—the way Jinx had obliterated their lives, the way Ekko had carried the weight of that destruction like a curse.

And he had the nerve to say those things to her.

To attack her and not Jinx.

The resentment festered, a dark seed growing in her chest. It twisted the memories of Ekko's smile, his touch, and his promises, turning them into something bitter. Y/N had given so much of herself to him, only to feel like she was always going to be second place. Everything was a lie.

All of it.

The voices that once whispered assurances now screamed in fury.

Why wasn't she enough?

Y/N walked the streets of Zaun, the lights from the neon signs flickering and buzzing around her. The night air felt cold against her skin, her steps were heavy, like each movement took more energy than the last.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to break something, anything, just to feel something other than the ache that seemed to consume her. But all she could do was walk, lost in her own thoughts, drifting through the world without really being a part of it.

The Last Drop was always there when she needed it. The familiar clink of glasses, the low hum of conversation, the smoky air—it all felt like a distant memory of better times, of times when she could forget about the weight of her world.

She wasn't there for fun. She wasn't there to be social. She was there because she needed to disappear, even for just a little while.

She pushed through the door, the warmth of the bar greeting her, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The usual faces were scattered around the dimly lit room...But.

Her eyes immediately landed on the corner booth. There was a man sitting there, Sipping a drink, his posture stiff, his face drawn in frustration. He didn't belong to the usual crowd of drunks and gamblers that populated the bar. There was something different about him—something that made her pause for a second.

She could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his fingers gripped his glass as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded. She didn't know why, but she felt...drawn to him.

With a deep breath, Y/N made her way to the bar, ordering something strong to quiet the storm inside her. But she couldn't stop glancing toward the man in the corner. His energy was familiar in some way, she wasn't sure what possessed her, but she found herself walking over to his booth—taking the seat across from him without asking.

He didn't even look up when she sat down, his gaze fixated on the swirling liquid in his glass.

"You look like you're carrying the weight of the world huh..." Y/N said, her eyes studying him carefully.

The man's eyes flickered briefly toward her before he sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand. "Maybe I am.." he muttered, his voice. "Isn't that how it goes though? You give everything, and it's just...still not enough."

Y/N tilted her head, her heart skipping a beat all of sudden. She had never met this man, but those words hit her like a punch to the gut.

She swallowed hard, fighting the wave of emotion threatening to overtake her. "Ye—yeah..." she replied softly. "You do everything you can for someone, and you still end up feeling like you were never really part of their life. Like they were just passing time until something better came along."

The man turned his gaze toward her then, studying her face with a strange mix of curiosity and recognition. "Sounds like you know exactly what I'm talking about, huh..." he said, his voice softer now, the walls around him crumbling just a little bit.

Y/N forced a small, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well... I guess I know the feeling all too well. Thought I was helping someone, thought I was worth something to them. Turns out, I was just the backup. The second choice."

The man's eyes softened, and for a moment, Y/N could see the pain in them, the weariness that matched her own. He leaned back in his seat, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass, lost in thought.

"You ever wonder if you're the one who's wrong? Like...maybe you're the one who's been selfish this whole time, thinking you were the one who should be chosen?"

Y/N stiffened at the question. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean...." he continued, his gaze steady on her, "....maybe they had their reasons. Maybe you weren't the one they were supposed to be with. Maybe they had their own battles, their own reasons for making the choices they did."

Y/N clenched her jaw, the anger rising again.

"It doesn't matter. They chose someone else, and that's all that matters. I gave everything to them, and that still wasn't enough."

The man studied her carefully, his brow furrowed. "You're angry because you didn't get what you wanted....But sometimes, what you want isn't the best thing for you. Sometimes, letting go...is the only thing that can set you free."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. There was a truth in them—one that was hard to face, but so impossible to ignore. She had been so consumed with wanting Ekko, with trying to prove that she was the one who mattered, that she hadn't stopped to think about what was best for her.

"Maybe..." she muttered, her voice distant now, lost in the realization. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I need to let go."

The man offered her a small, understanding smile. "I know It's never easy, but sometimes...holding on to something that's already gone only makes it harder to move forward. You can't keep fighting for someone who's not fighting for you."

Y/N looked down at her drink, the truth settling heavily in her chest. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew.

he was right.

"Guess we're both just in the same boat right now huh?" she said, her voice softer now.

He chuckled, a quiet, dry laugh."Yeah. I guess we are."

For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. A shared pain, a shared loss, and perhaps, a glimmer of hope that they might both find a way to heal. The quiet was heavy, yet somehow comfortable, as though their presence alone was enough to ease the weight of the world for just a while.

The man sitting across from her had a quiet kind of beauty, the kind that spoke of sadness but also strength. His face was striking, with chiseled features that seemed sculpted by time and hardship. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and full lips that had a softness to them, as if the weight of the world hadn't completely hardened him. His dark brown eyes held so much depth, a sadness that she could relate to, yet there was a quiet warmth in them, as though he carried his own story and understood hers without needing to ask.

His skin, a rich hue of warm caramel, seemed to glow faintly under the dim light of the room, and his hair was dark and unruly, falling just above his eyebrows in waves. There was something about him—something raw and real—that made it impossible to look away.

"You know." he said quietly, looking at her with those intense eyes. "Healing... healing is possible." His voice was steady, a gentle reassurance that seemed to cut through the fog of her own doubts.

"You're stronger than you think. You've been through more than most people ever will, and you're still here. That means something."

Y/N swallowed, feeling a weight lift in her chest at his words. There was something about the way he looked at her, as if he truly saw her, not just the surface but the person beneath the layers of hurt. It made her feel... lighter, in a way. It made her feel like she wasn't as alone as she had thought.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment seemed to come to an end. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate but soft, like he was giving her space to breathe. "I should head out now...it's getting late." he said, his voice gentle. "I'm Levi, by the way. It was really good talking to you...I hope... I hope you find peace."

Y/N nodded, her heart stirring with sadness.

"I'm Y/N." she whispered, her voice a little stronger than she had expected. "Thank you, Levi. For everything...really."

Levi offered her one last smile, a sad but sincere one, before turning to leave.

Y/N was left sitting there, the weight of the moment settling on her chest. She didn't know what it was about Levi or why their brief exchange had felt so significant. But as she sat there, she realized something—something small but important.

Healing.

Y/N stormed out of the Last Drop, her mind now a whirlwind of frustration, confusion, and anger. The conversation with Levi, though brief, had rattled her in ways she wasn't prepared for. His words echoed in her mind, a reminder of the things she wasn't ready to hear. Things about moving on, about not letting the past define her.

But how could she let go when every step forward felt like a push to forget everything she'd ever cared about?

She needed to release the pressure building in her chest—the tightness in her throat, the weight pressing down on her heart. She needed to stop pretending that everything was okay.

As she walked, her steps quickening with each passing second, her thoughts turned darker. She wasn't just angry at the world, at the people who kept letting her down.

No, the anger had a target, a name.

Ekko.

It was his fault she felt so torn. He had pulled her in, made her believe that there was something more between them, something worth fighting for.

But then there was Jinx—always in the back of his mind, always there, even when she wasn't.

"Why am I always second place?" she muttered to herself, the irritation simmering just below the surface. She walked faster, her fist clenching at her side.

Suddenly, a group of men appeared ahead of her, their figures blurry from the haze of anger and alcohol clouding her mind. They eyed her with a mix of amusement and mockery, clearly seeing her as an easy target.

One of them stepped forward, a grin playing at the corners of his lips.

"What's a girl like you doing out here alone, huh?" one of them sneered. "You look like you could use a little help... or maybe some company?"

Y/N gritted her teeth, her fists clenching at her sides. "Don't touch me..." she mumbled.

She wasn't in the mood for their games, not after everything she had been through.

The man chuckled, clearly unfazed. "What's wrong? Scared?" He took a step closer, reaching out as if to grab her, but she swatted his hand away.

"Don't.." she said again, her voice firmer now, though the slight tremble in her tone betrayed her.

Another man laughed, stepping forward as well. The situation shifted in an instant. The first man lunged toward her, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her forward, trying to pin her against the wall. The others crowded in, grinning and jeering, as they made a move to steal whatever coins she had on her.

"Let go!" Y/N snarled, swinging her free arm at one of the men, landing a punch across his cheek. The other men stepped back, laughing at her resistance as if it was all some kind of joke.

But her blows weren't enough to stop them. One of the men twisted her arm behind her back, the pain shooting through her body as she struggled against his grip.

Panic surged in her chest, her mind spiraling. She tried to kick out, but another man knocked her to the ground, pinning her there.

The weight of it all came crashing down. Her anger, her sorrow, her fear, her confusion—it all hit her at once, and in that moment, all the walls she had built around herself shattered. Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for air, her body shaking. She had fought so hard to hold herself together, but here she was now, on the dirty ground with these men looming over her, she felt like nothing.

Like everything she had ever done had led to this. To this moment right here.

"Get off me." she sobbed, voice breaking as she cried out for help, but her words fell on deaf ears.

Just as one of the men raised his fist to hit her, the air around her shifted. She felt a shift in the chaos. In an instant, the man was knocked to the side with a force that made her blink.

She didn't know what was happening at first, too disoriented by the rush of adrenaline. But the sound of the hoverboard—the unmistakable hum she had come to associate with reached her ears before she could register anything else.

In a flash, Ekko appeared, taking out the men one by one with ease. His movements were fluid,

calculated—each strike swift and precise. He didn't hesitate, didn't give them a chance to fight back.

The men were on the ground in a matter of seconds, groaning in pain, unable to get up.

Y/N's heart raced, a surge of relief washing over her for just a second. But then, as Ekko slid to a stop in front of her, his boots barely scraping against the pavement, her stomach sank.

He was standing there, breathing heavily, looking at her with that familiar, protective look she had seen so many times before.

"Y/N..." he said, his voice softer than usual, eyes scanning her body for any visible harm.

But before he could even take a step toward her, she shoved him away, her hands pressing against his chest with more force than she intended.

"D-Don't!" she snapped, her voice shaking with anger. She couldn't even bring herself to look him in the eyes. "Don't you dare say it..."

Ekko stumbled back, confusion flashing across his face. "What? I'm just trying to—"

"Trying to what?" she cut him off, her eyes blazing with fury. "Trying to tell me how reckless I am? How I always mess everything up? Just like you did before? You think you're the only one who can handle things? You think I need you to save me every damn time?" Her voice cracked at the end, her anger suddenly giving way to the overwhelming emotions she had been holding back for so long.

Ekko's eyes widened as her words hit him, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. His chest tightened, a heavy weight pressing down on him. He had seen her angry before, but this... this was different. This wasn't just about the fight.

It was everything that had been building up for weeks, everything he had said to her—everything he hadn't said. He'd hurt her more than he realized.

He stepped back, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I didn't mean to—" His voice faltered, thick with guilt. "Y/N, I—"

"No Ekko.." she snapped, tears welling in her eyes despite the fierce expression on her face. "You don't get how it feels to be the one who's always fucking second. To be the one who's constantly told that I'm not good enough, that I'm a liability....You think I don't know what you really think of me? How you'd rather save her than me." She wiped at her eyes angrily.

Ekko's heart dropped. He knew who she was talking about.

The realization hit him like a wave. All this time, he had been so focused on protecting her, on trying to keep her safe, that he had completely ignored what she needed from him. She didn't need saving. She didn't need his constant worry, his control. She needed him to understand her, to be there for her in the way that mattered, not just when things got bad.

And he had failed her.

His voice was quiet now. "Y/N, I...I never wanted to make you feel like that. I never wanted you to think I cared more about her. It's just—"

"No..." she interrupted, shaking her head violently. "You're so damn obsessed with her, and you can't even see what's right in front of you." Her voice cracked again, but this time, she didn't try to hide it. "I'm right here, Ekko. I'm always here. I always have been."

Ekko stood there, completely frozen, as her words slammed into him. The truth of what he had done to her finally settled in, heavy and suffocating.

The anger, the hurt in her eyes—it all became clear.

He hadn't just been protecting her...he had been holding her back. He had been so caught up in his own fears, in his past, that he had completely disregarded what she truly needed from him.

that realization crushed him more than anything else.

"Y/N...please.." he said, his voice breaking as he took a hesitant step forward. "I... I didn't know. I didn't know how much I was pushing you away. I never meant to make you feel like you were second. You're not. You're never second."

Y/N didn't answer at first. She just stood there, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She was so frustrated and heartbroken, but underneath it all, there was something softer—a part of her that was just as desperate, desperate for him to understand.

I don't want to be a shadow anymore Ekko" she whispered, her voice barely audible now. "I just want to be enough."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, before he could even process them, she collapsed—her knees giving out beneath her as she crumpled to the ground.

Her body trembled with each sob, her face hidden in her hands as the alcohol and the weight of everything she had been carrying overwhelmed her all at once.

Ekko stood frozen for a moment, his heart in his throat. He didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to fix this, how to make things right. But as he watched her fall apart in front of him, everything he had been holding back came crashing down. This wasn't just about Jinx anymore. This wasn't about him trying to protect her or save her from herself.

This was about him failing her when she needed him the most.

Without thinking, he dropped to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out instinctively. He pulled her close, cradling her against his chest as she cried. She wasn't saying anything now, just letting the tears flow, the weight of everything she had been carrying threatening to crush her completely.

Ekko didn't speak. He didn't say anything at all. He just held her. In complete silence.

His hand brushed over her hair, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. "I'm sorry.." he whispered after a while, his voice thick with emotion. "...I'm so sorry Y/N."

Her sobs began to go quiet. She didn't answer at first, still struggling to regain control of her breath, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. The weight of everything—the alcohol, the anger, the broken trust—was starting to lift just a little, but the pain was still there.

Deep, raw, and unrelenting.

Ekko held her tighter, unwilling to let go, unwilling to let her face this alone anymore. He knew his words could never fix what had happened. He had failed her, hurt her, and he was going to have to work harder than he ever had before to earn her trust again.

"I never meant to hurt you baby.." he continued, his voice soft but full of regret. "I should've seen it. I should've understood how you felt. I... I don't know what I was thinking. I thought I was protecting you, but I was only pushing you away. And—And I'm so sorry."

There was a slight shift in her posture. She wasn't pulling away, but she wasn't completely letting herself fall into him either. The hurt was still there, and it wasn't going to disappear overnight. It couldn't.

After a long moment of silence, she spoke. "I don't know if I can trust you again" she whispered, the vulnerability in her words cutting through him like a blade. "I just...can't keep doing this."

Ekko's heart sank at the raw honesty in her voice. He knew she was right.

"I know.." he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've made you feel like that, and I hate myself for it...So fucking much. But you are enough Y/N. More than enough. And I'll spend every day proving that to you if I have to."

The words hung in the air, but for Y/N, they felt so distant. Something shifted inside her as the weight of Levi's words settled like an anchor in her chest.

You deserve someone who makes you feel like you're the only one.

The sharp clarity of that truth hit her hard, the bitter realization that no matter how hard Ekko tried, no matter how much he cared for her, she was always going to be second place in his heart.

Her gaze flickered away from his, her throat tightening as she struggled to find the right words. She could hear Ekko's voice, soft and sincere, but it couldn't drown out the inner voice that had been growing louder in her mind. The truth she had been avoiding for so long...

Ekko will always have one foot in the past.

She knew, deep down, that he was still tethered to Jinx. No matter how much he tried to prove otherwise, no matter how many promises he made, he could never fully release her. She would always be the first choice in his heart.

That lingering ghost that casted a shadow over everything Y/N dreamed to build with him.

Y/N took a slow, shaky breath. "I—I don't know what to say Ekko."

Ekko's face tightened with concern, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Y/N shook her head, the tears that had threatened to fall now blurring her vision. "I...I want to believe you. I really fucking do..." she whispered. "I want to believe that you can love me the way I deserve. But I... I can't keep fighting for a place in your heart."

The words felt like a punch to her own chest, but they were the truth.

She had to say them.

Ekko's expression faltered, the guilt and regret washing over him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, wanted to say that Jinx didn't matter to him anymore, that Y/N was his choice. But he couldn't.

Y/N took a step back, her chest tightening as she wiped away a tear. "I can't keep pretending that it doesn't matter Ekko. I can't keep pretending that I'm enough when you're always looking back at her."

"I'm not—" he started, but Y/N cut him off.

"No.." she said, her voice a little stronger now, though it still trembled. "You can't choose me the way I need you to. And...I—I deserve someone who chooses me, not someone who's always going to have a piece of their heart somewhere else."

Ekko stood there, speechless. He wanted to say something, to make her understand that he never meant to hurt her, that he loved her so much, but the truth was..

she was right.

Y/N could see the pain in his eyes, but it wasn't enough. Not anymore. "I think it's time for me to move on..." she whispered, her voice cracking.

Her words hung heavy in the air, like an unspeakable truth, and Ekko's chest tightening with each syllable she uttered. His mouth opened, but no words came out. It made it impossible for him to respond.

Y/N took a shaky breath, "I've given everything I can to this... to us" she continued, her voice a little steadier now. "But I can't keep sacrificing myself.."

Ekko's heart cracked at the finality in her words. She did deserve better than the half-hearted love he was giving her.

"I'm so sorry Y/N." he murmured, the words feeling empty as they left his mouth, too late, too little.

But Y/N couldn't let herself be swayed by his sorrowful tone anymore. The trust she had placed in him had been shattered over time, and now all that remained was the stark truth of what was.

She took another step back, her shoulders squared, her chin raised high. She wouldn't let him break her again.

"I know.." she whispered, her voice quieter now, the words more for herself than for him. "But knowing doesn't change anything." She paused, taking a deep breath before the words she knew she had to say. "I'm sorry too Ekko. But this is goodbye."

The finality in her voice struck him right then and there. For a moment, he just stared at her, his mind racing, trying to comprehend what she was saying. He didn't know how to make her stay now, everything he had done had already pushed her too far.

Ekko's sudden frustration grew. He moved toward her quickly, grabbing onto her arm with a fierce grip. "No Y/N" he growled, his voice rough. "You can't just—"

But before he could finish, he saw it. The way she stiffened at his touch, not even glancing at him. The realization hit him like a cold wave. She was done. Completely done. She wasn't going to let him hurt her anymore.

His fingers tightened around her arm, almost instinctively, but her cold silence forced him to slowly let go. Every ounce of frustration, and heartbreak he had been holding onto drained out of him in that one moment.

"Please baby..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking as the weight of what he had done sank in. "Please...not like this.."

Y/N didn't respond. She just pulled her arm free and took another step back, distancing herself from him.

Ekko stood there, stuck—feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under him.

it was too late.

Y/N had already made up her mind.

"Goodbye...Ekko..."

With one final look, she turned and walked away from him, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the empty street. And as he watched her leave, he finally understood. This time, he couldn't fix it.

And this time, he wasn't sure if he even deserved to.

She was gone. And it was his fault.

The night air felt cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the heat building in his chest. Every emotion that had once fueled him had been extinguished, replaced by a hollow emptiness that felt like a slow suffocation.

He had pushed her away. He had let his insecurities, his fears about Jinx, and his own selfishness dictate his actions. And now, he was left with nothing but the echo of her words, ringing in his ears.

"I think it's time for me to move on..."

He thought back to everything he had said. He had never given her what she needed, and now, she was gone.

He didn't know how long he stood there, lost in his thoughts, but eventually, the reality of the situation settled in. She wasn't coming back.

He had lost her, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Ekko finally turned away from the spot where she had stood, walking slowly through the streets. The city was as chaotic as ever, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Nothing mattered anymore.

He didn't know what to do next, or how to fix what he had broken. But one thing was clear.

he would never forget her.

He would never forget Y/N.

Y/N found herself lying on the cold ground. She didn't know how she had gotten there, didn't even bother to care anymore. Her body felt numb, her mind in a haze from the alcohol and the emotional wreck that had occurred. She stared up at the sky, trying to steady her breathing, but the weight of everything, the loneliness—pressed down on her chest.

For a moment, she thought she might suffocate under it all.

But then, something shifted next to her. The air around her seemed to change, as if the world was still holding its breath. She turned her head to the side.

And there he was again.

Levi's familiar face appeared beside her, his features soft in the dim green light, his eyes blinking as if he'd just woken up. He was lying next to her, his arm stretched out across the cold ground, looking every bit as confused as she was right now. His dark hair fell messily around his face.

and for a brief second, Y/N felt a strange sense of peace.

Levi blinked a few more times, his confusion slowly giving way to a soft smile as he realized it was her. "Y/N?" he muttered, his voice low and slightly groggy. "What the hell are you doing out here? Did you follow me here?"

Y/N didn't respond immediately. She just kept staring at him, taking in the sight of him as if he were a lifeline thrown her way in the midst of drowning. His presence was a stark contrast to everything she'd just gone through.

Without even thinking, she threw her arms around him. The hug came out of nowhere, and for a moment, Levi froze in place, his breath catching in surprise. But then, slowly, his big strong arms circled around her too. She buried her face in his chest, holding on tightly, as if afraid he might disappear the moment she let go.

Levi, still shocked but now fully awake, whispered into her hair. "Y/N what's going on? Are you okay?"

She shook her head, her voice muffled by his shirt as the tears she hadn't let fall earlier started to come. She couldn't find the words to explain the storm swirling inside her, but the hug was enough to make her feel like she wasn't entirely alone. Not for now. Not in this moment.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't know anymore."

Levi didn't ask any more questions. Instead, he just held her tighter, letting her cry into his chest. The city of Zaun seemed distant, as if the noise of it all had faded away. For now, in his arms, she found something she hadn't realized she needed—comfort. Understanding. And for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like she was falling apart completely.

As her tears slowed, she pulled back away from him to meet his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something so kind. He was there. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N didn't feel like she was carrying the weight of the world alone.

"I'm so sorry" she whispered again, her voice quieter this time, her eyes searching his face.

Levi gave her a small, almost sad smile. "Don't apologize...We all have our moments. I'm just glad you found me, even if it's in the middle of the damn street."

Y/N chuckled softly, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah, well... wasn't exactly the plan."

Levi tilted his head, a crooked smile playing on his lips. "The best things never are I guess..."

She smiled faintly, the weight on her chest lifting just a little. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't feel completely alone. They sat there in comfortable silence, the distant hum of Zaun's chaos fading into the background.

As the minutes stretched, the exhaustion of the day began to settle in. Y/N leaned back against the cold ground, staring up at the patch of stars visible through the smoke-filled air. Levi followed, his arms folding beneath his head as he lay beside her.

"You know..." he said after a moment, "this is probably the strangest way I've ever made a friend."

Y/N turned her head to look at him, a faint laugh escaping her lips. "Friend, huh? Is that what we are now?"

"Would you prefer being enemies now?" Levi replied, chuckling.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a softness to her expression. "Nah, I could use a friend right now."

"Good." he said, his tone light. "Because I could use one too."

They stayed like that, lying side by side under Zaun's polluted sky. Y/N's eyes grew heavy, the day's events finally catching up to her.

"Levi?" she murmured sleepily.

"Hm?"

"Thanks for... being here. Even though we just met today.." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Anytime" he replied softly.

"Get some rest, Y/N. You're safe."

And she really did believe him.

They both drifted off there on the cold ground of Zaun, two broken souls finding solace in each other's company.

It wasn't perfect, and it didn't fix everything, but it was a start.

I will be posting a happy for the Reader and Ekko ending soon <3.

Just had to let this one sink in fr.

Check out my Ekko one shots on Wattpad for more stories!! :3

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clarkeyhill · 2 days ago

Text

jealousy, jealousy | Arthur hill

Angst.

It started with a stupid comment, one of those offhand remarks that shouldn’t have meant anything but hit harder than it should have. We were at a party, the music pounding, the room crowded with faces I barely recognized. Arthur had been standing by the bar, laughing with some girl I didn’t know—a tall, effortlessly gorgeous blonde who had been flipping her hair and leaning in just a little too close for comfort.

When he came back to me, drink in hand, I couldn’t help the sharp edge in my voice. “Making friends?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said, crossing my arms, the words already dripping with sarcasm. “Just looked like you and Barbie were hitting it off.”

And that was all it took.

“What, I can’t have a conversation without you getting jealous?” Arthur snapped, his tone harsher than I expected.

“I’m not jealous!” I shot back, though the heat in my cheeks said otherwise. “I just don’t appreciate you giving her all your attention while I’m standing here like an idiot.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, the tension between us thickening. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re being an asshole,” I retorted, stepping closer, the space between us crackling like a live wire.

The argument spiraled fast, our voices rising above the music, drawing a few curious glances from nearby partygoers.

“She’s just a girl,” Arthur said, his hands gesturing wildly. “You’re the one I’m here with. What more do you want from me?”

“What I want,” I hissed, my voice sharp enough to cut, “is for you to stop acting like I’m overreacting every time you flirt with someone.”

Arthur barked out a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “You think that was flirting? God, you’re impossible.”

“Oh, I’m impossible?” I shot back, shoving his chest. “You’re the one who can’t go five minutes without charming someone new!”

“You’re unbelievable,” he growled, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. “Always looking for a fight, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t give me so many reasons!” I shouted, my chest heaving as the anger bubbled over.

Arthur’s jaw tightened, his eyes dark with frustration—and something else. Something that sent a shiver down my spine despite the heat of the argument. He stepped closer still, his body crowding mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to shout again.

Instead, his voice dropped, low and rough. “You know what your problem is?”

I glared up at him, my breath hitching at the intensity in his gaze. “Enlighten me.”

“You like this,” he said, his lips curling into that maddening smirk. “You love pushing me, getting me all riled up. It gets you off, doesn’t it?”

My stomach flipped, and I hated how right he was.

“Shut up,” I said, though my voice had lost its bite.

Arthur took my chin in his hand, his thumb brushing over my jaw as he tilted my face up to meet his gaze. “No, I don’t think I will.” His eyes searched mine, the tension between us shifting, turning hotter, heavier.

“Arthur—”

But before I could finish, his lips crashed into mine.

The kiss was fierce, consuming, a collision of frustration and passion that sent sparks flying between us. His hands slid to my face, his touch firm, possessive, as if he was staking his claim all over again. My fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, and the world around us disappeared.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I smirked, my lips brushing against his as I whispered, “Good.”

Arthur chuckled, the sound warm and rich, and then he kissed me again, softer this time, though no less intense. The argument forgotten, we lost ourselves in the fire that always seemed to burn between us, a flame that only grew brighter when we clashed.

🫶🏻

#george clarkey #george clarke #youtube #british youtubers #arthur hill

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katyarn · 2 days ago

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I love the way you write can you do Kenma. Kinda toxic Kenma, reader and him had an argument but it’s mainly just him being awful to her. So reader is sad and then he gets worried she’ll do some stuff to herself and then he comforts her yeaaaa emphasis on the him getting worried and guilty part.☺️

sorry this is kinda detailed

ECHOES OF SILENCE

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre: Angst with Comfort

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I BROKE MY COMPUTER. also change of writing style I literally physically couldn't go back to my old one LMAO

The door shut behind you with a hollow thud, the kind that echoed through your chest long after the sound had died away. The air inside the apartment felt heavier than usual, weighted down with the aftermath of your latest argument with Kenma. Your hands trembled as you reached for the back of a chair, grounding yourself before your legs gave out entirely.

He’d been harsh tonight. Harsher than ever before.

His words—cold, cutting, and merciless—had pierced through every defense you had built. They circled in your mind like vultures, picking apart the fragile pieces of your heart.

“Why do you always need my attention? It’s suffocating, honestly.”

“It’s not my job to make you feel okay all the time.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so insecure, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you bit down on your lip hard enough to taste copper, refusing to let them fall. You felt small—so unbearably small—and so unbearably alone.

Kenma hadn’t even looked at you when he delivered the final blow, his amber eyes fixed on the glow of his game screen as if you were nothing more than a background noise he could turn off.

And maybe he was right. Maybe you were too much.

The ache in your chest grew sharper, blooming into a storm of hurt that wrapped around your ribs like a vice. You rubbed at your arms, seeking warmth where there was none, your breaths shallow and shaky. The spiral was familiar, dark thoughts gnawing at the edges of your mind, whispering that you weren’t enough, that no one would miss you if you disappeared for a while.

Or for longer.

You blinked slowly, your gaze drifting to the window. The city lights outside twinkled, cold and distant. There was a numbness creeping up your spine, spreading through your limbs until you felt disconnected from yourself, like you were watching someone else exist inside your body.

Kenma leaned back in his gaming chair, the controller still in his hands. The room was quiet now—too quiet. He could hear his own breathing, uneven and shallow. The last thing you’d said before you left replayed in his mind.

“I don’t know what you want from me anymore.”

There was no fire in your voice, no anger. Just sadness. Defeat.

Kenma swallowed hard, his heart thudding unevenly against his ribs. The glow of the screen in front of him felt blinding now, the sound effects grating in his ears. He turned it off with a sharp click, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint light seeping in from the hallway.

Guilt clawed at his throat, a thick, suffocating weight that made it hard to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair, the silky strands slipping through his fingers like sand. He knew he was cruel tonight. He’d known even as the words left his mouth that they were too sharp, too unfair. But he’d been so frustrated, so overwhelmed, that he lashed out the only way he knew how—by pushing away the person who mattered most.

And now you were gone.

What if you didn’t come back?

A cold shiver ran down his spine. What if—

No.

No, he couldn’t think like that.

Kenma stood abruptly, his feet carrying him out of his gaming room before he even registered he was moving. He opened the door to your shared bedroom, half expecting you to be sitting on the bed, waiting for him like you always did after a fight. But the room was empty, and the silence was deafening.

His heart dropped.

You didn’t hear the door creak open behind you. You were too lost in the storm of your own thoughts, too far gone to notice the way Kenma hesitated on the threshold, his eyes wide and full of something you hadn’t seen in him before—fear.

“Y/N.” His voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it cut through the haze in your mind like a blade.

You flinched, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. He looked pale, his hands trembling as they gripped the doorframe.

“What do you want?” Your voice cracked, raw and brittle.

“I…” Kenma swallowed, stepping into the room. “I was worried about you.”

You laughed, a bitter sound that didn’t reach your eyes. “Worried about me? Since when?”

“Don’t say that.” His voice broke, and the sound of it made your heart stutter. “Please… don’t say that.”

You looked away, your shoulders curling in on themselves as if you could shrink away from the weight of his guilt. “You don’t have to pretend to care now. You made it pretty clear where I stand with you.”

“I’m an idiot,” he blurted out, his voice cracking with desperation. “I’m… I’m so stupid, Y/N. I don’t know why I say those things. I don’t mean them—I never mean them.”

“Then why do you keep hurting me?”

Kenma felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to stop. But I want to. I swear I do.”

The silence between you stretched thin, fragile as glass. Kenma took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I thought… I thought I was losing you tonight. And it scared me. It terrified me.”

You blinked, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. “You are losing me, Kenma. Every time you say those things… it chips away at me. And I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words trembling on his lips. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do better. Please… don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you, the walls you’d built around your heart crumbling as he reached out to cup your face with trembling hands. His touch was warm, grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself lean into him.

“I’m scared too,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. “Together.”

And for now, that was enough.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #kenma #kenma angst #kenma comfort #kenma x reader #haikyuu comfort #haikyu

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antinousletmehit · 3 days ago

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hi hiiiii

submittin an ask since idk if anyone asked for him yet

*inhales* ANTINOUS DATING HEADCANONS WITH SOME SUGGESTIVE STUFF GO GO GO (/nf take ur time also i love aphrodite’s gambit so far keep up the great work!! ^^)

୨୧┇pairing: Antinous x fem!reader

୨୧┇note: AHHHHH ANTINOUS MENTIONED. ILY for this, finally a antinous ask in my inbox I love that man. Grammar might be off on this one too.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

🍷- congratulations on getting this deadbeat as a lover!! We don’t know how you did it, but we also really don’t wanna know!!!🎉🎉🎊🎊

🍷-I feel like in the beginning of the relationship he’d really only care about sex most of the time and flaunt you off to the other suitors.

“LOOK AT THIS BADDIE I BAGGED!!”

The crowd turned away and groaned.

🍷- He’d also be a bit of an asshole in the beginning too. For example, if he ever got jealous you’ve been hanging out with a suitor for too long he straight up slaps your ass and walks away smirking with no regard for your embarrassment.

🍷- but as the relationship progresses he gets somewhat worse better. He basically just starts acting as your own horny guard dog.

🍷- In terms of affection, I feel like he’d be very hesitant at first but then kinda gets used to it in private, but now you have a clingy antinous who refuses to sleep if his head isn’t buried in your tits chest. Oh and PDA is a big no for him UNLESS he’s jealous, then his hands are ALLLL over you until he feels like letting go.

🍷- For some reason I’d like to think antinous isn’t very good at reading, nor can he write AT ALL, and so whenever he writes you a letter once in a blue moon, this is what it would look like

“I lvoe yuo sou muf, yuor tats aer bij teo”

Translation: I love you so much, your tits are big too.

🍷- He would also flex his muscles to impress you and tells you the “heroic” story of each scar on his body.

🍷- since the fandom pretty much agrees antinous has a huge scar on one of his eyes, making him half blind 90% of the time. I’d like to think he LOVESSS it when you kiss around that eye, like it drives him insane.

🍷- He likes kissing you around your neck and shoulder area. Likes receiving kisses near his injured eye and his scars.

🍷- If you hate how he treats Telemachus he’ll stop messing with him frequently and just makes the suitors mess with him instead without you knowing. But if you like to hate on Telemachus too he’d do it much more often to entertain you and himself.

🍷- This man’s temper and jealousy issues are beyond comprehension so expect an argument to happen ever so often. Most of the time it gets resolved by freaky time in bed, but if you have a especially bad one do NOT expect this man to apologize first. Whether or not he was right or wrong that man is way too prideful to apologize for shit. In fact he is waiting for an apology from YOU.

🍷- after a bad argument what he’ll usually do is ghost you and avoid you until you apologize. But in the rare instances that he does apologize first it’s “yea my fault ig….can we make out-“ a slap to the face.

🍷- If he ever sees a suitor harass you, they’re gone the next day. Don’t ask how.

🍷- There was definitely a moment where Telemachus caught you two making out and anitnous ran after him, threading to wring his neck if he interrupted them again. Let me write this out

🍷- His lips captured yours before you could say another word, the kiss deep and consuming. He pulled you flush against him, one hand tangled in your hair while the other rested firmly at your waist. The world seemed to disappear as his intensity drew you in, every thought and worry melting away. That is, until—

“Y/N?”

The voice was sharp and startled, and you both froze. Antinous broke the kiss, turning his head just in time to see Telemachus standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and tremendous disgust.

“What the—?” Telemachus began, but Antinous was already moving.

“Telemachus!” Antinous barked, his tone exasperated as he straightened up. “Do you not know how to knock?”

“This is a public hall!” Telemachus shot back, his face turning red as he pointed accusingly. “Where the hell could I possibly knock!?”

Antinous groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Stay here,” he muttered to you, his tone softening just slightly. “I’ll handle this.”

Before you could respond, he was already stalking after Telemachus, who already began running away down the hall.

🍷- he can’t control his 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #antinous #epic antinous #antinous x reader

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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 8 hours ago

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WAIT LET ME REQUEST‼️‼️ how about the reader which ls us , we are like months pregnant about 6-9 and everything ls going wonderful but unfortunately Baldwin lsnt fully healed since they are close to finding a cure so what lf guy got lnto a argument with Baldwin but to get Baldwin back , guy pushes us down the stairs when we are that many months pregnant and something goes wrong??❤️

The Fool's Undoing - King Baldwin x Reader

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for this request Anon, sorry it's taken so long to get too 😔. I hope it's what you had in mind! This one is very angsty guys so I'm sorry in advance about that 😭. As always, this is based on the movie Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

P.S. I had a freaking STROKE because I forgot the word "physician" while writing this and spent a good 20 minnutes trying to figure out what it was😭😭😭. Big thank you to @minminambus for helping me through the stroke and finding the word 😭🫶.

TW: Mentions of violence, Mentions of m*scarriage, Leprosy

It had been a beautiful first few months. The maids worked tirelessly, adding the final finishing touches to the nursery adjoining the royal chambers.

It was a rather windy afternoon when it happened.

Y/n lay comfortable in the bed she shared with her husband, reading a book as she rubbed the swell of her stomach. Her pregnancy had been practically perfect with no complications and the young couple were expecting their first born (and heir to the throne) very soon.

Baldwin lay dozing beside her, worn out from a particularly stressful meeting earlier that day. He had been writing letters before y/n beckoned him to her side and insisted he lay with her. The poor man was too tired to refuse and after her delicate fingers worked through his sandy blonde curls for a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

The queen smiled down at him. Things really could not be more perfect at that very moment.

A sharp knock at the door disturbed the peace all too soon. Y/n called out for them to enter and was displeased with the news that Lord Guy requested to see the king.

After a few gentle nudges, Baldwin came awake slowly, drowsy and confused.

“Wha- what's going on? Are you okay?” he asked, a slight panic in his tone as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Y/n chuckled lightly.

“Yes my love, I am just fine. Guy wants to see you apparently”.

Baldwin sighed and flopped back onto the pillows, dragging his bandaged hands down his face in annoyance.

“And what does that harlott want from me now exactly?” he asked, his voice dripping with malice at the very mention of the man.

The queen grinned, her husband only spoke cruelly when he was tired. It was always interesting to hear the well mannered and measured king speak ill of another.

“I'm not sure, but you best go find out before he gets angry and questions your competence again” y/n replied.

Baldwin sighed heavily, sitting up as his wife placed a gentle hand on his back to assist him.

“Very well, only because I don’t need him causing another fuss” he reached for the silver mask that sat on the nightstand and slipped it onto his face, pulling his hood up and standing.

“I'll see you in however long this takes”. Baldwin pressed the iron lips of the mask against his wife's forehead softly.

“And i'll see you again then too” he said again, pressing the lips of the mask to the swollen stomach of his wife.

Y/n smiled as her husband disappeared out the door.

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

Baldwin walked down the halls of the castle, in no real hurry to face Guy and deal with whatever made up problem he had fabricated in an attempt to make the king seem incompetent.

Baldwin knocked on the door of Guy’s chambers and entered upon hearing approval.

Guy stood to bow, a small jerking motion that showed no real respect and was only done out of mere necessity.

“My lord, I was hoping to speak with you,” he said, smirking.

Baldwin scowled under the mask.

“Please make this quick, I have other duties to attend to,” he said, taking a seat at the table, opposite Guy.

“It's a small matter it really shouldn't take too long at all- I was just thinking about where I will sit if your.. Child.. Is born as a boy? Because I understand as it is now, that I am the only heir but if your child is a boy then I will be.. Removed from the role when you.. You know..” he chuckled nervously and smiled sarcastically.

That damn smirk only made Baldwin's blood boil further.

Perhaps if the young king was in a better state of mind and more well rested he would have reacted differently. But unfortunately he wasn't.

Baldwin took a deep breath before speaking.

“So let me get this straight, you called me in here to tell me about how you're concerned that you won’t be king when I die. You called me in here with you, to talk about how you're worried you wont have your time to shine when I’m dead. How dare you remind me of such things! I am going to be a father Guy, something you wouldn't know about since my sister won't even touch you and give you an heir of your own. Not like you will need anyone to rule after you anyway because as I stand here today, I tell you that no matter the gender of my baby that they will rule. Man or woman. Just to ensure that you will never get the chance to call yourself king of this land”

Baldwin stood and left the room swiftly, not giving Guy a chance to even open his mouth.

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

Later that evening, dinner was called. As the young king usually took his meals alone, the queen was expected to attend the royal dinners as the figurehead.

Much to Baldwin's disdain because it meant that the two would have to part ways for an hour or so. They said their goodbyes and y/n slipped out of the chamber doors.

She was surprised to not find a maid outside their room as there was usually one there to assist her down the stairs and to the dining room, as her heavy pregnancy made it difficult to walk down the steep, stone staircase.

Y/n looked around for a moment, and then began down the stairs.

She was focused and methodical with her steps.

Perhaps too focused.

So focused that she didn't notice Guy approaching her from behind, only taking notice when two firm hands were pressed into her back.

The young queen was sent forward, losing her balance on the hard stone staircase and plummeting down to the bottom.

And then everything went black.

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

The first thing y/n noticed when she came too was the pain. Pain everywhere, a dull ache that spread deep in her bones.

The second thing she noticed were the panicked voices from every direction. One of which she recognised almost instantly.

“I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT MY DAMNED, SISTER SAYS, HE IS TO BE KILLED IMMEDIATELY. SENTENCE HIM TO DEATH”

“Right away my lord"

The queen's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her husband's voice.

“B-Baldwin?”

The king practically ran to her side, crouching down beside the bed.

“I'm here my love, I'm right here” he took her hand in his and kissed it with the silver lips of his mask.

She smiled weakly at his presence.

“What happened?” she asked as physicians bustled around the room.

“Guy defiled you with an act of violence most cruel but I can assure you he has been put to death for his crime and will never get a chance to harm you again”.

Hot tears brimmed in the young queen's eyes as she remembered the staircase.

“And.. and the baby? Is the baby okay?” she asked, a sudden rush of panic flooding her.

Baldwin took a deep breath before answering.

“We don't know right now. But while you were unconscious the baby was felt kicking by several physicians, so that is a good sign” he said, a spark of hope in his melancholy voice.

Y/n breathed a sigh of relief at that.

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

Later that night, when the physicians and maids had deemed the queen as stable and healthy aside from a few bruises and scratches (no broken bones, thankfully), the king and queen lay together in their bed.

The moonlight basked the room in a comforting pale glow and y/n was just about to fall into a light sleep when she heard a small sob from behind her.

It was quiet and if there was any other sound in the room she would have missed it.

“Baldwin?” she said gently into the darkness.

“Y-yes?” came the reply.

“What's wrong my darling?” she said, turning over to face him.

Her voice was so soothing, so kind, he could never hide his emotions from her.

“It's all my fault” he sobbed, burying himself into her warmth.

“What's your fault sweetheart?” y/n asked, wrapping her arms around her husband, sliding her hand into his soft hair.

“It's my fault that Guy did what he did! It's all my fault. I was such a child, I provoked him. He would never have hurt you and our baby if I didn't yell at him, I was immature, I'm so sorry” he cried, tears soaking into the bandages that covered his cheeks.

“Oh my darling man, it's not your fault. It's his own fault, you know that Guy is- was a savage man. He would have done it no matter what you said to him, the only reason he did it was because he wanted to be the only heir and eliminate any possible competition. His savagery is not your fault my love” she said, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Oh y/n, what did I do to deserve someone like you?” Baldwin replied, wiping his tears on the blanket that covered them both and burying himself further into her body.

Y/n chuckled lightly, pulling him closer.

“I could ask you the same question you know”

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broidobe · 2 days ago

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𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤

requested by @rocketqueen1989x and maybe @xo-myloves??

☾a night of partying turns chaotic when duff fights a flirtatious stranger, leading to a heated argument at home that transforms into fiery, passionate reconciliation☽

☾warnings: smut, violence, substance use, anger, aggression, jealousy, possesiveness☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

the club is chaos, the air thick with cigarette smoke, the buzz of conversation, and the pounding rhythm of live music rattling through your chest. duff’s arm is slung casually over your shoulder, his fingers drumming idly against your arm as you weave through the crowd. the rest of the guys are nearby, lost in their own revelry, drinks in hand and energy electric.

you’re used to the scene by now—wild parties, a haze of drugs and booze, and the inevitable whirlwind of attention that comes with being at duff’s side. but tonight, something feels a little off. maybe it’s the way duff keeps glancing around, his jaw tight, or maybe it’s the lingering stares from the stranger at the bar.

“he’s looking at you again,” duff mutters, voice low but edged with irritation.

you glance over your shoulder, catching the guy’s eye just as he raises his drink in some half-assed toast. “he’s harmless,” you say, brushing it off, but duff’s grip on your waist tightens.

harmless turns out to be the wrong word.

you don’t even see it happen at first. one second, you’re laughing at something izzy said, and the next, duff is shoving the guy so hard he stumbles back into the bar, glass shattering at his feet.

“she’s with me,” duff growls, his voice rough, barely audible over the music.

the guy scoffs, recovering quickly and throwing a swing that duff dodges with surprising ease, considering how much he’s had to drink. and then it’s chaos—duff’s fist connecting with the guy’s jaw, the two of them grappling as the crowd surges around them, people yelling, drinks spilling.

“duff, stop!” you shout, trying to push through the throng of bodies, but he’s too far gone, fueled by anger and adrenaline.

it doesn’t take long for security to step in, dragging both of them apart. the band gets kicked out with the usual warnings—don’t come back, you’re banned, the whole spiel. you’re fuming as you pile into the cab with duff, the ride home tense and silent except for the occasional snide comment from axl about the whole thing.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

once you’re home, the door barely clicks shut before you round on duff.

“what the hell was that?” you demand, arms crossed as you glare at him.

“he was all over you!” duff snaps, pacing the room like a caged animal. “what was i supposed to do? just stand there?”

“yes, duff! you were supposed to stand there and trust me. it’s not like i was going to run off with him.”

he stops short, turning to face you, his eyes wild and dark. “you don’t get it, do you? seeing him look at you like that—like you were something he could take—” he breaks off, raking a hand through his hair.

“so you thought punching him was the solution?” you shoot back, voice rising to match his. “do you know how embarrassing that was for me?”

“embarrassing?” he scoffs, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. “you think i care about that? i care about you.”

the heat between you shifts, tension crackling like a live wire. his gaze drops to your lips, and you’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly his hands are on your waist, pulling you close as his mouth crashes against yours.

it’s angry, messy, all teeth and tongues as he backs you against the wall. his hands are rough, sliding under your shirt, gripping your hips like he’s staking a claim.

“you drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your lips, his voice low and gravelly.

“good,” you snap back, shoving his jacket off his shoulders. “maybe now you know how i feel.”

clothes disappear in a blur, the argument melting away as his hands and mouth explore every inch of you. it’s fast and desperate, a tangle of limbs and breathless moans as he presses you into the mattress. he’s all heat and intensity, his movements almost punishing as he thrusts into you, his grip on your thighs leaving bruises you’ll wear proudly tomorrow.

“mine,” he growls, burying his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to make you gasp.

“always,” you manage to breathe, nails raking down his back as he pushes you both over the edge.

when it’s over, you’re both a mess, tangled together and still catching your breath. duff presses a soft kiss to your temple, his earlier anger replaced by something tender.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

you smile, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “next time, just talk to me, okay?”

he nods, pulling you closer. “okay.”

#broidobe #guns and roses #duff mckagan x reader #duff mckagan fanfic #duff gnr #duff mckagan

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sadmiserablechv · 1 day ago

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Grayson as Talon pt.2

When time went on, Jason started to notice how presence of small Talon by his side became somewhat necessary. He started expecting little Birdie to show up at his patrols.

Hood still can't describe what he was for Talon and what Talon was for him. They weren't partners, Jason didn't even consider such nonsense because he still doesn't believe that Grayson wouldn't go nuts if something went wrong.

So he chooses to just go with their nameless relationship and move on with occasional thoughts of child beside him. It's isn't something that Hood not familiar with, cause all kids in Crime Alley now were under his protection.

When bats found out about Talon, their first thought inevitably was "We need to get red of this" but they also fall into trap of "This is just a child". And maybe just maybe an angry frown Todd worn with hand on his gun made them think in this direction faster.

So now Talon became his responsibility. Not that Hood was so much against it, Grayson was surprisingly calm and obedient around him, but it still was a headache in it's own way.

Kid sometimes disappeared for a couple of days and that came back like nothing happend and Hood each time was salty about it. Boy doesn't seem to realise what he did wrong, but Jason can swear that he was just playing dumb.

And sometimes this menace of a child decides to protect Hood. It doesn't matter was it some low class goon with its mind out of place if he decided to threaten Jason or even some bat starting argument about another case and Hoods involvement in it. Talon didn't separate any of them if he starts to see any kind of aggression towards Todd, he just sees it as danger.

And it did bother him. Because on one hand was headache from troubles that will come with this protection (man was confident that Talon will just try to tear apart anyone who bring trouble to him or this kid himself) and on other wellbeing of Birdie.

Sometimes Hood can't complain about any of it when this weapon for murder sits with him after a fight and makes worried chirps when sees any type of wound. Sometimes Talon will start speaking at this moments, thinking that words will help Jason to feel himself better.

Sometimes when Todd hears another quiet and clearly worried "Look bad" or "Help?" he really feel better. Because with him Talon starts to look less and less like...nothing, like an emotionless zombie.

#batman #dc comics #nightwing #richard grayson #richard john grayson #dc robin #jason todd #red hood

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equalmindz · 2 days ago

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i am wanting some information! no arguments! :)

hey so i’m relatively new to the fandom- like in general. i’m twenty-three and let me explain because i have QUESTIONS

- i only WATCHED harry potter for the first time in May of 2024. i have not read the books, i plan too this year

- i started out reading a draco x hermione fic called the disappearance of draco malloy. which i thought was quite good, but i kinda took space from this area of the fandom because of the popularity and sensation that was manacled, mainly because it discusses topics of sexual assault and in my opinion seems to romanticized it, so i took a step back and moved to marauders. (i am a survivor of SA and this is just highly triggering to me)

- i then read ATYD, which was my first marauders fandom book, and i wanted to learn more about it because it was something i’d heard about from the outside, but never looked into in depth. i really enjoyed it, fell in love with wolfstar of course, and i did enjoy jily.

- i then read COPTP, which i am approximately 77% the way through. it is a beast of a thing, but i am enjoying it more than ATYD. mainly because it’s less sad and tied to our world and the OC’s are great. one thing that did strike me as odd before i started reading it was people on here saying they couldn’t enjoy it or want to read it now because there’s jily?? now of course i know about jegulus, and all the hype around it. for me this ship feels like it’s for people who wanted prongsfoot to happen but wolfstar is well wolfstar and so jegulus is kind of in place to satisfy this within the fandom?? (again, this is my OPINION)

- two days ago i then posted my first wolfstar fic. and i’ve been scrolling on tumblr more- and just being more active in the fandom through here. now i’ve noticed some things

there seems to be this weird contention between like old vs new people in the fandom, or people who ship jegulus and jily, and beyond you know regulus shipping i’m kind of wondering why? like genuinely in trying to learn more about the fandom i wanna know peoples opinion on regulus and his character— same with the slytherin skittles. i’ve seen a couple of posts where people are upset about regulus characterizations because of how it is far from canon. but couldn’t this be argued for draco? or snape?? basically i am just wanting someone to explain (someone with actual media literacy- in a kind discussion, nothing crazy) their opinions on the subject. again, i’ve never read the books and i’m fairly new to the fandom so take what i’m saying with a grain of salt.

so yeah! feel free to pm me because i’m kind of curious about like the parts of the fandom! also because i’m a writer i’m not really wanting to write about something (aka jegulus vs jily) without fully knowing all the information. please be kind too :)

#harry potter #the marauders #wolfstar #siruis black #remus x sirius #remus lupin #marauders fic #jegulus #jily #james potter #prongsfoot #marauders #all the young dudes #cadence of part time poets

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antianakin · 2 days ago

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I don't personally think he'd be any worse than anyone else. Mostly because, as you sort-of mention at the bottom, the true problem is not and never has been the Jedi who teaches him, but Palpatine's intervention in his Jedi training. You could literally put Anakin with any Jedi as his master and the result would be exactly the same. None of them would be uniquely better or worse for Anakin because none of them are able to completely eliminate Palpatine's influence. This is why I made the joke post that arguably the ONLY Jedi who could possibly be "better" for Anakin than anyone else was Jon Antilles, a comic-only character who routinely seems to disappear on missions and be presumed dead for months or years before he just randomly pops up again and spends most of his time AWAY from the Temple. This would likely effectively stop Palpatine from being able to gain access to Anakin easily, but not through any actual effort on Jon Antilles's part.

But also, your argument that what happened in the Council room would impact him negatively would still remain true with ANY OTHER JEDI MASTER to some degree. "If I'm NOT the Chosen One, then everyone fought for me or made exceptions for me for nothing." That remains true even if Qui-Gon himself isn't his Master. You can obviously argue that it'd be something that would impact his relationship with Obi-Wan, it would've impacted a relationship with Mace or Yoda or Plo Koon or Ki-Adi-Mundi.

So, you know, yes, obviously Palpatine has things he can use to fuck up Anakin's relationship with Qui-Gon, places where he can seed doubt, but he'd be able to do that with just about ANYONE who'd ended up Anakin's master, there's absolutely nothing uniquely awful about Qui-Gon or his relationship with Anakin that would make him worse for Anakin than someone like Obi-Wan or Mace or Yoda or Ki-Adi-Mundi or Plo Koon, ALL OF WHOM are involved in this series of events and so have much the same history for Palpatine to pull on. Even if he lands with someone uninvolved in the entire affair like Kit Fisto or Shaak Ti, there are going to be things that Palpatine can use to seed doubt, regardless of the lack of relative "history" they have with Anakin.

But remove Palpatine from the equation. Let's assume that TPM still goes generally as in canon, but somehow Palpatine is just... not an issue anymore for Anakin and Qui-Gon lives to take on Anakin. This leaves us with the question of whether Qui-Gon's belief in the prophecy and in Anakin's place within it would negatively impact his relationship with Anakin to the point that it's significantly worse than if Anakin were with anyone else. And I don't personally believe that it would. Qui-Gon DOES believe in it, but he brings it up only when he feels like he HAS to in order to convince the Council to let Anakin be trained and to ask Obi-Wan to take up this mission in Qui-Gon's place, both places where he's clearly desperate and running out of options. This doesn't indicate, to me, that Qui-Gon would constantly be bringing it up to Anakin or even necessarily that he'd allow it to just... fester in their relationship or impact how he treated Anakin.

Anakin himself likely WOULD have some thoughts about it, some doubts about whether he can live up to it or not, worries about Qui-Gon's belief in him, but that is arguably no worse than what he's got with Obi-Wan, who demonstrably DIDN'T believe in the prophecy and agreed more with the Council that he was dangerous. Obi-Wan's LACK of belief would create just as many doubts and uncertainties as Qui-Gon's faith. I don't think one is necessarily innately better or worse in this situation. And if Palpatine is entirely out of the equation, I think Qui-Gon is perfectly capable of helping Anakin overcome some of those doubts and uncertainties with Jedi teachings, the same way he's clearly helped Obi-Wan work through many of his own (Obi-Wan's shock and anger at the events in the Council chamber lead him to react a little rashly and lash out at Qui-Gon a little, but he does ultimately manage to calm himself enough to understand where Qui-Gon was coming from and apologize, an ability he likely gained FROM QUI-GON'S TEACHINGS). Many people, myself included, have pointed out that Anakin was likely entirely capable of learning to apply Jedi teachings to himself if Palpatine hadn't interfered, and I believe that that's no less true with Qui-Gon than it is with Obi-Wan or anyone else.

I've seen the argument that Qui-Gon would've been a bad master for Anakin because he would've been so obsessed with the prophecy that he never would've let Anakin be his own person outside of it and this would've put undue pressure on Anakin as he grew up. But this just doesn't make any sense to me given what we see of him and what we know of him.

Qui-Gon brings up the prophecy all of TWICE in TPM: when the Council rejects Anakin for training, and when he's dying and asking Obi-Wan to train Anakin. He doesn't even harp on it all that much when he DOES bring it up. He says it once when the Council give their decision and then immediately moves to a different tactic when he can tell this isn't going to sway them. He doesn't keep trying to convince them of why the chosen one is important or anything.

And both of these instances are explicitly done out of a desire to ensure Anakin GETS training. Once Anakin is already being trained, there isn't necessarily any indication that Qui-Gon would feel the need to keep bringing it up or pressuring Anakin with that knowledge. Yes, Anakin would know Qui-Gon believes it, but he knows that in canon, too, and he knows Obi-Wan knows about it and that his choice to train Anakin was done in large part because of Qui-Gon's own belief. So I don't know that I believe that Anakin would feel all that much additional pressure under Qui-Gon's tutelage than he does in canon under Obi-Wan's.

Qui-Gon is also just not a particularly chatty person by nature, it seems. He seems like someone who listens more than he speaks and holds back until he feels like it's worth it to say something. We often see him only say as much as he thinks NEEDS to be said and no more (the best example of this is in his conversations with Obi-Wan on Tatooine where he seems to hang up mid-conversation more often than he doesn't). Half the time when he speaks, it's because someone spoke to him FIRST and he's responding or answering a question.

So it just doesn't seem particularly in character for Qui-Gon to be constantly discussing the prophecy or bringing it up to Anakin. He seems like someone more inclined to simply let Anakin come to his own conclusions about the possibility of being the chosen one and what that means to him rather than enforcing his own perspective on Anakin. This could cause Anakin to jump to conclusions that cause problems down the line, but he jumps to conclusions in canon that cause plenty of their own problems anyway, so I don't think Anakin's situation would be all that much better or worse with Qui-Gon than it was with Obi-Wan.

#qui-gon #anakin #obi-wan #tpm

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