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#no this has nothing to do with the snippet I just felt like saying it
rotten-games · 1 year
Note
Speaking of Emil could u do 1 for him?
One day I'll wright fluffy Emil but until that day comes... Sorry, it's angst cringe emoji
The night is a backdrop that suits your prince-to-be well, though the moon drowns out his pinkish skin with her ever-present shine. He’s been staring for some time now, out into the endless desert he once was taught was for no one but brigands and the damned. He didn’t know Keller, back in the day, but you’re sure they would have gotten along. He was an idealistic child, or so Qora tells it.
Now, however, “You know Hessia is expecting us to make an appearance,” You coax, smoothing down the front of your clothes. You haven’t bothered to get all dressed up the way Emil has—you couldn’t match it. Or perhaps more pertinently… something so… resplendent feels itchy against your skin. “There’s only so long until fashionably late just becomes late.”
Emil hums, only halfway to paying attention. His fingers worry at the fabric, smoothing down lines before scrunching the soft material back up again. He spent at least an hour getting all ready, trying on dresses and suits to his endless delight. The smile he wore was as rare as the clothing and it was the only thing upon him you’d focused on at the time; he’s a very pretty man when he smiles. With the decision made, however, a lull settled between you as you tugged into the chosen garments.
Now, he just sits there, toying, and playing, and tearing at the rare fabric in idle worry. Eventually, he offers a steeling sigh. “I believe that I am broken.” He begins, not quite looking at you so much as turning his worry to the wall just past your head. His gaze is… icy. “I am capable in many ways—incapable in many others-but for some reason I am of the complete and utter belief that I am broken.
You hold your tongue, unable to conjure the words it takes to properly address his concerns. How could you? You’ve had this discussion time and again and neither of you come away from it feeling any better. If you dare to tell him it’s okay he’ll snap, if you attempt to ignore the conversation entirely he’ll be lamenting it for days. And yet.
You both know you’re not the person for this conversation, or rather, you’re exactly the right person for the conversation… if Emil were willing to actually have it. “You were having a good time,” You try, “Can’t you continue, just for tonight?”
“I don’t know…” He sighs, “It’s like it always is. One minute I’m fine and then I look at you and…” He doesn’t have to say any more. You know. Yet, Emil continues regardless. “I love you more than I could possibly say,” He says, a surprise like a knife at your throat, “But I hate you like fire hates ice.”
“Emil—” You’re unable to get a word in. He keeps going, fisting at his hair with a sigh.
“I need you like water, yet you’re poison to me.” It’s the eternal struggle. Him in a constant cycle of loathing and hatred, and you much the same yet with guilt tacked on like an afterthought. Radhel certainly has humour. Emil isn’t crying, not over the expensive satin of his shirt, but his head his bowed, shoulders quaking. “Everyone knows it, too.” He mutters, “I know they’re laughing.”
You don’t think that’s what they’re doing at all.
“Are we even good for each other?”
Gods, no, but the question just goes to show just how naive Emil still is. “If you even have to ask,” You breath, steeling yourself, “Perhaps this isn’t a good idea. Us, I mean.”
Emil shrugs. “I don’t want to be without you.”
“But what do you need?” You prod, “You may want me, but do you need to be without me?”
Another shrug, but this time with words more enlightening, “I don’t know.” Green eyes peer cautiously at you, whites all stained pink, “I still need to figure that out.”
And then he reaches out, once-lanky arms opening for an embrace. Until I figure that out just stay. Please stay.
Never mind what it will do to you.
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Can you pretty please write a fic where Logan and Deadpool are having an argument about how they should be fucking the reader, like going over techniques while the reader is just drooling and mindless like “whaaa”
hell YEAH i love getting fucked stupid by big strong men >:3333€
this is a rly good prompt btw so i could GLADLY expand on this but for rn here’s a snippet 😌
warning: dp, painal, sadomasochism, mild transphobia, slurs, degradation, overstim, dubcon, daddy kink
anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/bussy
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They talk about you like you’re not even there.
Well, physically you were right there with them. Mentally you were nowhere to be found, certainly not on their conversational level. Wade had been bouncing you in his lap for god knows how long. His cock in your cunt had thoroughly fucked your train of thought off the tracks. Your internal monologue was nothing but bitchy whimpers and primal burning for more. Welp. What do you expect? Back to back orgasms will do to that to you. You couldn’t even recall how the argument started, and context would’ve really been helpful.
“Wow! Okay! That’s a shitty thing to say to our guest! Wanna apologize and maybe try that one again, JK Rowling?”
"Oh, get fucked. That's not what I meant and you know it." Logan kept his firm hands on your shoulders, assisting your bounce, since your legs were damn near liquified.
“Mmmmm, ah, gah-fuuuck… Wh... Wha? Huh?”
“How is that not what you meant?" Wade, questioned, maintaining his steel grip on your ass. He felt that he had to protect you from the big bad wolf and his transphobia. "You just said he’s not a real man because he has a pussy. A tight, sweet, JUICY pussy that feels like a fleshlight full of microwaved angel dust. And yet SOMEHOW this makes him not a real man to you? Maybe you’re just not man enough for HIM, sugar-tits!”
"I said you gotta fuck him like a real man. You’re being too good to him. It's gonna fuel his ego, and I’m not letting you turn him into a spoiled brat. Fuck him in the ass, that'll teach him a lesson. Show him this shit ain't a joke."
"No way! Ass is ass is ass is ass. Everybody's got an asshole, peanut, and newsflash? They all feel the same. But this boy's pussy? This hot buttery premium A5 wagyu bussy that's—SQUEEZINGmyfuckingdicksotight, oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, angel baby, sweet boy, you feel so GOOD! Making your Daddy feel so good, good boy!"
Praise was easy enough to process. It didn't require any cognitive effort on your part. You didn't have to weigh in and have an opinion, you just have to take it, and be grateful for it. "Hah, fuck! Thank—thank you, Daddy! FUCK! Wade! WadeWadeWadeWade—WADE! WadeWadeWade..."
But Logan wouldn't let it go. "I'm serious. Make him take it up the ass, or I will."
“Un-be-lievable. You know something? You must be the one guy in this universe who could see a whimsical forest path that leads to a magical unicorn fountain, and says 'Oh, no, none for me. Let me go spelunking in the poop-chute, thank you very much!' And if that's not the single gayest thing I've seen in my entire—"
"WADE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
"Eeep!"
Oh, you poor thing. He nearly gave you a heart attack! It's terrifying when someone yells out of nowhere, especially when that someone has you naked and vulnerable in their hands. Logan had slammed you down on Wade's cock when he yelled, completely stopping the scene and trapping you between them. Woah. Time out. Shit has officially just gotten real. You and Wade held bated breath, and traded a glance that said "We're cooked. Nice knowing ya."
But Logan just laughed at you both. Delighted by the atmospheric tension he had just created.
"Heh... heh heh heh..."
Then he relaxed his grip on you, and those big strong calloused man hands started to explore. They massaged your shoulders, rubbed your neck and jaw, and groped and squeezed wherever they pleased. All the while, his hot breath, tinted with whiskey and malice, ghosted over the shell of your ear as he talked. He spoke very firmly. Targeted. Slow. He wanted you to get every fucking word.
"Listen, bub. I’m not about to question whether or not you’re a man, okay? But I’ll say this. When real men wanna take cock? It hurts. Oh, it hurts real bad. And most of ‘em don’t get the luxury of a cushy little cunt that’s meant to take a pounding. No, son. Real men get ripped apart by cock. It makes them cry and scream and sometimes their tiny little rims even bleed because of it. And you know what? They love it. They love how much it hurts them. Cause they’re men. Strong men. And you’re no fuckin’ better than them, you know that? You think just cause you got another hole that you can take the easy way out? Everything's gonna be peaches and cream, huh? Nuh uh. Not on my watch, you little shit. You wanna act like you're such a fag? Well then you’re getting fucked like one of us too."
“Jesus fucking Christ, babycakes, if you don’t want him up your ass I’ll GLADLY take the heat for you.”
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keyotos · 6 months
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face-to-face
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summary ↯
aventurine has a bit of a staring problem while shopping
tags ⎯ unestablished relationship. like we are in the baby stages of their relationship. minor jealousy. lots of banter. lowk dialogue heavy.
word count ⎯ 3.3k
tana's thoughts ⎯ aventurine has taken over my brain so here's a snippet of the series i'm writing
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over the years, it's become easier for you to notice when someone stares at you. before, it was an uncomfortable feeling. you felt eyes peering over your shoulder as if you were a pest–it made your skin churn and shoulders twitch up self-consciously. now though, gazes move past you like air. you don't care as much about the opinions of other people–it's not like you'll be seeing them for long anyway.
except, today is different.
you can feel aventurine's colorful eyes trail your every move. from the moment you chose the necklace, to the moment you took it up to the cashier. he wasn't being as inconspicuous as he assumed to be: that died after the fifth glance that he shot your way while you were inspecting said necklace.
even through his glasses, aventurine's stare was burning and heavy. you never thought that such light-colored eyes could install such a hefty weight on your back, but aventurine proves you wrong.
while the cashier rings up your necklace, you look back at aventurine. coincidentally, he was already eyeing you before you even turned around. so when you catch him, he thinks that the other pieces of jewelry in the store are far more interesting than your face could ever be.
you scrunch your eyebrows and shake it off. by now, you're quite used to his unusual antics, so you brush him off. the cashier engages in light conversation with you, and then you feel it again. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and everything feels like it's weighted down.
you bid the cashier goodbye, and aventurine follows you outside. his hands are in his pockets while he whistles, almost like he wants you to start talking. you shoot him a confused look back, your eyebrow raised and nose crinkled.
when he only whistles louder, you decide to poke the bear.
"okay, what is it?" you stop and turn to face him.
"what? you don't like my whistling?" aventurine responds with an innocent tone; he even shrugs his shoulders like he has no idea what's going on.
you huff, "not just the whistling. what's up with your staring?" you raise a hand up to his eyes, "we're supposed to be acting normal. i don't think gawking at the person you're shopping with is exactly normal."
aventurine's jolts back, like he was accused of murder instead of ogling. "i wasn't gawking."
you nod, "yeah, you were staring."
"those mean the same thing."
"i think you've been hanging out with the doctor too much," you roll your eyes and continue walking. aventurine quickly marches up to you, matching your pace sooner than you thought.
"are you trying to compare me to him? we're completely different people, you know that, right? i don't act like him at all," aventurine rambles on. his head is turned to you so that his mouth is directly next to your ear, meaning you hear all of his words. you can't tune him out like usual.
"first of all," it's your turn to look at him, "i just said you hang out with him a lot. and you do, don't you?" aventurine's lips fall into a flat as you say that.
"and second of all, stop changing the subject. why were you staring at me back there?"
the man next to you huffs, and it sounds nearly childlike, "i'm not changing the subject. i'm just trying to tell you that i'm nothing like the doctor," he says with disdain.
"you are changing the subject, otherwise you wouldn't be talking about dr. ratio as much as you are now," you glance around at the various stores surround the two of you, and for a second, you swear that you see aventurine's eyes linger on you once more.
"you did it again!" you fully stop, pointing a finger at his eyes.
aventurine has to catch himself before he falls over at your sudden stop. "what? what are you talking about?"
"you keep glancing over at me! do i have something in my face? my teeth?" a large smile blossoms across your face as you beam at aventurine. for a moment, his annoyed facade falters, and his face relaxes.
"no, and if you did, i'd tell you," he swats a hand in your face, "i don't know what you're talking about."
you roll your eyes. it's obvious that he's hiding something, because usually his lies are more believable. but when you're catching him in the act, denial is not a good way to refute false claims.
"yeah, whatever," you look around the plaza the two of you are currently in when another store catches your eye. your face instantly brightens, and you wander towards the doors.
it's another clothing store, similar to all the other ones on the planet. except, something specific drew you here, and it was the display of hats they had near the window. you walk up to it, spinning the shelf around a few times to grasp onto all the options. your eyes are wide and your mouth is slightly parted as you examine each hat with awe.
unbeknownst to you, aventurine catches up to you and finds you fumbling around with each hat on the rack.
he sneaks up behind you, mumbling, "now, that's what you call gawking."
you jump up in surprise, hitting your head on something more soft than the hard shelf. aventurine quickly redacts his hand from the top of your head.
"i'm just doing what any normal shopper would do," you rub the top of your head before going back to the hats. aventurine's long sigh rings in your ear as you browse.
"yeah, okay," he looks at the selection of hats beside you, "i doubt anything you do is normal, but–" aventurine doesn't get to finish his sentence. he hears your boisterous gasp, and his eyes are on you once more.
"do you see this!!" you lift a fedora up to his eyes, "we could match," you whisper it like a secret, as if matching would be your thing. like matching would only be a tangible thought between the two of you, and no one else.
"yeah, no," aventurine lifts the hat down and places it back on the shelf, "sorry sweetheart, but the hat is my thing."
you grimace at the pet name, "mkay. so, you're gatekeeping fedoras now?"
aventurine sputters, "what? what is gatekeeping?"
you heavily sigh, and aventurine is pretty sure you're putting on an act right now. "are you serious? how do you not know what gatekeeping is?" you shake your head as you grab the hat from the shelf, "anyway, i think i know the real reason you don't want to match."
"because it's childish? and totally not my style?"
you turn around and flick your partner on the shoulder, "no. and you really have been hanging around the doctor too much." you shudder and place the hat on your head, "i think it's because you know i would show you up in it."
aventurine muffles a chortle when he sees you put on the fedora, "keep in mind that we're in the land of dreams."
your lips curl up in the way that they always do when you're annoyed. you are not very amused by his bits today. "you suck," you take the fedora off and continue browsing for different options.
you hear aventurine's footsteps gradually get softer and softer as you keep browsing. that's fine, you think, this is his shopping trip too–he's allowed to find things for himself.
one hat after another: that's your current predicament at the moment. you're glad aventurine is off doing his own shopping, but you also wish that you glued him to the ground so he could give you a second opinion. unfortunately, he is nowhere to be seen, and you are having trouble deciding between two caps.
"do you need any help finding anything?" a voice perks up from behind you, making your shoulders jolt up. it's not the voice you want to hear, instead it belongs to a lovely retail worker.
"ah, no thank you," you smile politely and turn back to the two hats in your hand.
"okay, let me know if you need anything!" sometimes, you wonder how retail employees are able to maintain such a chipper tone of voice for hours on end. do they really want to help you or are they just saying that because they have to?
and that's when the thought hits you: either way, they're still offering themselves up. your eyes widen and you rush towards the employee.
"actually, wait!" he turns around when you touch his shoulder, "i do need help. and this is gonna sound super random–and possibly weird–but what do you think of these two hats?"
you put one hat on–a red one that seems to flop on your head, "this one is nice, right?" the employee in front of you just nods. he's a bit tense and stiff; it seems like he's trying not to offend you.
"yeah, i think it's nice too. only thing is that it's kinda flopping on my head, and caps aren't really supposed to flop," you take it off and hold it in your hand.
you're surprised the employee hasn't made his break yet, because he's still standing in front of you when you grab the other cap.
"and this one," you hold your free hand up to the new, black hat, "is the one that belongs to my favorite team. well, i guess the other one also belonged to another one of my–"
"what are you doing?" you can recognize that voice anywhere. that voice that carries a slightly whiny tone. that voice that always seems to have some judgement sprinkled throughout it.
you and the worker both seem surprised. well, the employee seems to be more intimidated than surprised, but either way, his entire face had gone pale.
"um, trying on hats?" you take off the cap and hold it up.
"i can see that," he looks over towards the employee in front of you, "but is it seriously a two-person job?"
you scrunch your eyebrows together, "i needed a second opinion."
"you could've asked me," aventurine whispered, though it sounded more like a hiss.
"i think someone else needs help," the employee takes a few steps back from the both of you, "i hope you find everything!" there it is. he tries his best to sound cheerful, but his voice quivered as he moved away from the two of you.
"he was such a nice guy," you said as you waved goodbye. aventurine did not look as pleased as you did.
"we're supposed to be laying low. you know that, right?" the blond emphasizes.
you shake him off, "yeah, and tell me how a regular retail worker is gonna rat us out? what about us possibly screams 'sleuth'?"
"we're buying hats." aventurine isn't very proud of his answer, and he can tell that you thought it was weak as well.
"so everyone that buys hats are suspicious?" you retort, putting on the cap you previously took off. "do i look like a murderer to you?"
aventurine sighs. his fingers go to his temples and you're sure that you've brought him to his last nerve.
"this hat is better than the other one," he puts the red one back onto the shelf. "the other one practically fell on your face. i doubt you could even see with that one."
you look at the red hat and then look back at aventurine, furrowing your eyebrows together. "that was a specific answer. i never even showed you what the red hat looked like."
aventurine cleared his throat, and the ceiling must look extra nice, "i overheard the other guy talking. you're loud, y'know that?"
your face immediately breaks out in a huge grin, so wide and bright that aventurine looks back at you for a mere second, before turning back to the ceiling.
"you were doing it again!! the staring! goodness, i thought you were good at lying," you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder to garner his attention, "admit it. i've caught you."
"i'm being serious. you're a little loud," aventurine crosses his arms, biting on the inside of his cheek.
"la-la-la-la. can't hear you. guess i'm speaking too loudly to notice," you put the black cap on again–the brim sticking the opposite direction–and look in the mirror. "hey, since you're here, can you give me another opinion."
aventurine nods for you to continue, and you smile, "perfect. does this make me look like a cool galactic baseball player?"
this is what takes him aback, "huh? why would you want to look like that?"
"well, i'm going to a game soon, and i didn't want to look like a fake fan," you shrug and look in the mirror again. "but now that i'm really looking at myself, i think i’d be an amazing galactic baseballer. what do you think?”
you pretend to hold a baseball bat in your hands, getting into a hitter stance. you make sound effects as you swing your pretend-bat into aventurine's chest, aiming for the open hole in the middle.
aventurine reaches over your head, "well first of all, i'm pretty sure baseball players wear their caps the right way." he grabs your hat and places it on the right way, but not without making sure the brim covered your eyes.
"are you serious right now?!" you yelp, quickly pulling up the hat so you can regain your vision.
and there aventurine is, staring at you again.
you briefly gulp before broadcasting, "you're staring!" you march closer to him. "i caught you!" you're only inches apart now. "and it was obvious!" your finger is pointed at his eyes, but unlike earlier, your finger is much closer.
if you had gotten only an inch closer, you would be able to feel aventurine's heartbeat, despite not even being chest-to-chest.
"okay, okay," aventurine is the first one to step back, and you feel something sinking, "but that was only once."
"yeah, whatever. 'once.' not like i haven't caught you a million other times," you shook your head and regained your baseball posture, "you can't hide from these sharp eyes. told you i'd be a great galactic baseballer."
the blond chuckles, and your eyebrows raise up at the sound, "keep dreaming."
"well, a really weird guy did tell me earlier that we are in the land of dreams. so, if i dreamt that i could be a galactic baseballer, it'd actually happen."
aventurine tilts your hat down once more, dismissing your cries while he does it.
"remember what i said about acting normal?"
"this is actually pretty normal for me," you take the hat off.
"can't argue with that," aventurine looks towards the cashier and then back at you. you raise an eyebrow, as if to raise the question, "is there something wrong with my hair?"
if there is, aventurine doesn't do something about it. surprising, since he's practically been doing something this whole trip. "are you ready to go up?" he asks you.
"you're not gonna get anything?" you look around the store, "we can look at stuff for you. there's tons of things here."
aventurine shakes his head and gives you a wink, "i've got everything i need." you suck in a sharp breath, and you try to focus on anything else other than how fast your heart begins to beat. when aventurine turns his back away from you, then you gulp.
when the two of you get to the cash register, you stand next to aventurine, preparing to pay. you're well aware of how costly things on penacony are–after all, this whole planet is like a tourist attraction. that's why you're paying with card instead of the usual credits.
"did you find everything?" the cashier asks you. you smile at the woman and nod, making idle chatter with her while aventurine idly stands next to you.
the woman turns over to aventurine, "i'm guessing you also want to pay for your item too?"
it's aventurine's turn to plaster a smile on his face. from what you've gathered from being with him so often, his smiles are often sly. some would compare it to the cheshire cat, but you thought he rather resembled an evil cartoon villain.
"yes ma'am," his saccharine voice masked his villain grin, "do you still have it?"
"that i do," she responds, grabbing something from underneath the counter. your eyes fly from the woman to aventurine. you simply couldn't believe what you were looking at.
"you're buying the freaking feodora?" your posture straightens and you beam up at him, "i knew you wanted to match!"
"slow your roll," aventurine puts a hand up to you, "who said i was buying this for you?"
your smile drops and you shove his shoulder, "are you serious? i thought you didn't like that hat."
"i didn't not like the hat. i just didn't like the thought of us matching," he tilts his head to smirk at you.
the cashier's eye's bounce between you two, not knowing whose side to take. eventually, she settles for ringing your cap and aventurine's feodora up, not even wanting to say a word.
"alright, who's paying?" she looks up at the both of you.
"i am," you and aventurine say in unison. your face contorts while aventurine displays a confused expression.
"um," you whisper, stepping closer to the blond next to you, "i'm paying."
"um," aventurine mocks you, "you're broke."
"not broke!" you kick his shin, and aventurine grips onto the counter in order to keep his balance, "just budgeting."
"yeah, and you know who don't have to budget? people that aren't broke."
"so he's paying?" the cashier interrupts. you step away from aventurine out of shame. he can have this.
when aventurine sees you put away your wallet, he proudly hands his card up to the woman in front of you. when she looks down to scan his card, he shoots you a sly look and a wink. your mouth rests in a flat line and your eyes show no signs of hilarity.
the moment the two of you step out of the store, you immediately go for aventurine's bag. before he could even catch you, the hat is already in your hands.
"we can switch!" you try to reason with him, "you would be a great baseball player. just, y'know, not as great as me."
"and..." you sing, "we wouldn't match. wouldn't that suit both of our goals?"
aventurine looks over at you, and his gaze is softer. this time, you don't get onto him for gawking. how could you, when he's looking at you like that? you don't think you've ever seen him like that... ever.
you squint your eyes, trying to decipher his real expression. but there's nothing for you to investigate.
"what?" you ask.
"you can keep it."
immediately you take a step back, nearly bumping into a bystander walking behind you. you shout a quick apology before returning back to aventurine, "didn't you buy this for yourself though? what's the point of me keeping it?"
"i just realized that it didn't go with any of the outfits i have," he sighed, looking into the distance, "what a waste of money. so, it's yours."
"what kind of bullshit is that?" you scold the blond, "you always have to think about whether or not you'd actually wear the item before you buy it. that's like... number one rule of shopping."
"i don't shop that much," aventurine shrugs, glancing at you one last time before focusing on the street ahead. he bites the inside of his cheek and tries his hardest not to look to the side. you'd give him hell for it.
but you're not focused on that. everything's slow, and it feels like the street is empty.
"well, then we're gonna have to go more often."
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909 notes · View notes
dragonbarbie · 15 days
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 3
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aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au
summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up.
rating: 18+, minors dni.
tags: alcohol, substance abuse, making out, finger fucking, handjob, praise kink, oh and soul-crushing angst :)
word count: 8.2k (i... dont even know what to say aegon makes me distracted)
previous part
series masterlist
A/N: things are finally getting spicey
lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
divider credit @ cafekitsune! title of fic is from 'peter' by taylor swift.
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Age 19
Sunspear wasn’t bad. In fact, Y/N loved it most days. The warm Dornish sun that kissed her skin every morning, the sea breeze that swept through the streets, and the vibrancy of the people made her feel alive. She’d made friends—good ones—and liked most of her classes. The city had charm, a warmth she didn’t expect, and a pace she could keep up with.
But somehow, since she’d moved here for college, everything felt a little hollow without Aegon. No matter how beautiful the sunsets were, how lively the city, or how many people surrounded her, there was a part of her that felt incomplete. Every holiday weekend, she looked forward to going back to King’s Landing just to hang out with him, only to be disappointed when he was off on some trip with his new friends, always busy with something or someone else.
Lately, though she’d found one distraction of her own: Qoren Martell. The kind, funny, downright hot boy she had been talking to for a while. At a party on campus one weekend, she had somehow ended up taking him back up to her dorm and hooking up with him. She didn’t know what she had expected his reaction to be the next morning, but when with a dashingly sunny smile he’d asked her for dinner, she couldn’t imagine turning him down. She was positively floating with excitement about the upcoming date, and there was no one else she wanted to gush about the new boy in her life to, than her best friend. The only problem was – Aegon had seemingly gone awol.
All day, Y/N’s phone sat on the table beside her, the screen flickering to life now and then with notifications. But none of them were from Aegon.
She tried to focus on her readings, flipping through textbooks, scribbling notes, and chatting with her friends between classes, but her mind kept wandering back to her phone. Each time it buzzed, her heart leapt with a flash of hope, only to come crashing down when it was just another random message or a social media update. No Aegon.
Her fingers hovered over his contact more times than she could count that day. She’d already sent him two texts in the morning: ��Hey! Call me when you’re up :)” and “You alive?” Nothing. Hours passed, and she sent another, this time shorter, tinged with impatience: “You around?”
Still, no response.
She tried calling him, just to hear his voice, hoping he’d pick up. But after three rings, it went to voicemail, like it had so many times before. “It’s Aegon. Leave a message or don’t, whatever.” The tone of his message was casual, almost dismissive, but it felt like a punch to the gut. She hung up, biting back her frustration.
Why was he being like this? It wasn’t the first time he’d gone dark on her for days at a time, but it hadn’t always been this way. Before they had left for college, Aegon had been different — always around, always close. But now... It felt like he was slipping through her fingers, like the connection that had always felt unbreakable between them was fraying with every passing day.
Her texts and calls to him became more frequent as the day went on. “Where are you?” “Call me back.” “I need to talk to you.” Each one shorter, more pointed, as her frustration built up. It wasn’t like she was needy, or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. It was just that today, she needed him. For once, she was the one with something important to share. Something that made her excited and nervous all at once. But Aegon was nowhere to be found.
Instead, she guessed, he was probably out with his new friends. Drinking. Partying. Having a great time without her. The thought twisted in her chest, leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She had seen the posts—pictures of him with a different crowd, new faces, girls, all of them smiling and laughing in places she’d never be invited to.
Aegon used to call her almost every night when they’d first gone to college. Even if it was just to chat, to vent, or to ask her what he should eat for dinner. But lately, those calls had become fewer and far between, replaced by half-hearted texts and vague replies. Sometimes he didn’t answer at all. He was always “busy,” or “with friends.” New friends. People she didn’t know, people he’d never mentioned before.
What was so important that he couldn’t even bother to text her back?
When she reached back to her dorm, Y/N threw her phone down on the bed, flopping beside it as her irritation simmered. She wanted to be angry at herself for caring so much. She had other things to focus on—classes, her friends here in Sunspear, the Martell boy who made her laugh. She was happy, or at least she should be. But Aegon’s silence gnawed at her, a constant reminder that something had shifted between them, and not in a good way.
She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. It wasn’t like before when they’d talk for hours about nothing and everything when he made her feel like she was the only one who knew him. Now, it was like she was just another voice in the background, easily ignored.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How could he just... Vanish like this? He knew how much they meant to each other—he had to know. And yet, here she was, alone in her room, clutching her phone like it was some lifeline, waiting for a message that might not even come.
The anger built up, flooding her veins with heat. For once, she had something to tell him, something important, and he couldn’t even bother to be there for her. And whenever he had something? Whenever he wanted to talk about his latest hobby, the new song he wrote or just whatever crazy thing the latest girl he had slept with had done after finding out he wanted nothing more to do with her – Y/N was there for him. Listening to him go on and on, on the phone, never once complaining or bored. This was how he repaid her? He was always unreachable now, off with people who seemed to be more interesting, more fun than she could ever be.
She stared at her phone again, jaw clenched, tapping her fingers against her thigh. Just one reply, she thought. One text and I’ll feel better.
But as the minutes ticked by, the screen stayed dark, and the weight of his absence grew heavier. Eventually, she got tired of staring at her lock screen and realised looking at the time that she should be getting dressed for her date, and put her ungrateful idiot of a best friend out of her mind.
Just as she gave up and stood up from her bed though, her phone rang. It was him.
For a split second, relief washed over her. Finally. But as soon as she answered, the irritation she’d been holding onto all day surged to the surface.
“Aegon, what the fuck? I’ve been trying to reach you all day” she snapped, pacing across her room. Her heart was pounding, both from anger and the desperation of needing to hear from him.
On the other end of the line, there was a moment of silence—long enough to make her pause, her breath catching. Then she heard it: the unmistakable sound of Aegon sobbing.
Her heart dropped.
“Aegon?” She whispered, her anger evaporating almost immediately. She could tell from the way he was struggling to breathe, from the hitch in his voice, that something was terribly wrong. “What’s going on?”
“They found out,” he choked out, his voice thick with tears. “My parents... They found out I’ve been missing assignments, failing classes. Everything. They’re so fucking pissed, Y/N. Mum said she won’t get them to pass me this time if I don’t come intern with grandfather this break. They—they threatened to take away my trust fund if I don’t pull it together.”
Y/N sank onto her bed, clutching the phone tighter, her anger dissolving into concern as she listened. Aegon was never like this. He was always so laid back, putting on the devil may care persona, always trying to stow away his vulnerability. But she knew, oh she always knew, the sensitive boy who hid underneath there. Hearing him this upset tugged at her heartstrings in a way that made her chest ache.
“I just... I don’t know what to do,” he continued, his voice raw, as though the words were being ripped out of him. “I hate it here. I’m fucking drowning in this place. It’s so dead, and fucking ancient and…and...” His breath hitched again. “It doesn’t even have you in it.”
Those words stopped her cold.
The burn of irritation she’d carried all day flickered out, replaced by a deep ache. She could almost see him, sitting somewhere alone, head in his hands, breaking apart at the seams. The Aegon who had been partying with new friends, drinking himself into oblivion, wasn’t here right now. This was the real Aegon—the broken boy who hated being left alone, who always needed to have someone hold him, keep him together. Someone, who was more often than not, her.
“Aegon... I’m so sorry.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “I didn’t know things were this bad.”
“It’s just... It’s all fucked up right now, and I can’t stand being here anymore. Everything’s falling apart. And I miss you. I fucking miss you so much.”
Y/N closed her eyes, her heart swelling with empathy. The way he said it—so vulnerable, so real—cut right through her. All the anger she’d built up over the day melted away. She couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he was hurting like this.
She wanted to say something, anything, to make it better. To tell him that it would be alright. But the words got caught in her throat. All she could do was sit there, holding onto the phone, her heart heavy with the weight of his pain.
She heard him sigh deeply on the other end, making her want to reach through the phone and pull him into a hug, to somehow make all of this disappear for him. But she couldn’t. She was hundreds of miles away, stuck in her own life.
When he’d finally gotten it all out of his system, the sobs quieted and his breathing evened out. It was like the storm had passed, leaving behind a hollow calm. “So, what did you wanna talk about?” He asked, his voice still rough, but lighter now, almost as if he’d forgotten his own sadness for a moment.
Y/N blinked, startled by the question. For a second, she’d forgotten, too. Then her eyes flicked down to her phone, and she saw the text notification from her date—“Leaving now, see you soon.”
She hesitated, staring at the message. It would’ve been so easy to tell Aegon the truth, to share the excitement she’d felt earlier. But now, after everything he’d just said, it felt wrong. Like rubbing salt in an open wound. She couldn’t just hang up and go about her night, no. Aegon needed her. And nothing, nothing, could ever come before Aegon for her.
She sighed and started typing out an excuse to Qoren, her fingers moving quickly as she lied into the phone without hesitation. “I was thinking about taking scuba lessons while I’m down here, thoughts?”
There was a pause, and then Aegon snorted. “And prayers. You don’t even know how to swim.”
“I do know how to swim!” She protested, rolling her eyes even though he couldn’t see it, smiling despite herself. “No, you don’t. You’ve always refused to swim with me in the pool back home. You just sit outside with a stupid book every summer.” “Because last time I did come in, you perved at me in my bikini,” she shot back, laughing.
“Oh right,” he said, his tone lighter now, teasing. She could almost hear the cocky grin in his voice. “That coral blue thing, right? Great memory. I can still recall it... Clinging to you in all the right places…”
“Aegon!” She shouted, laughing harder now as he started going into details.
“What? I’m just saying, it was a good look on you. A really, really good look.”
“God, you’re impossible,” she muttered, but there was no anger in her voice now, just warmth as she fell back onto her bed, the weight of the day lifting just a little.
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Age 20
Y/N stepped off the taxi into the cool night air, her heart racing with anticipation as she took in the grand spires of Oldtown College.
The trip was almost impulsive. After two years of living in different states and months of practically all their communication being restricted to texting once a week, Y/N decided enough was enough. She had this long weekend free and she asked him what he thought about her coming to visit. He replied “HELLLZ YEA$” and “well get shitfacedd,” which she took as a yes.
She had spent the past few hours imagining his reaction when he saw her, thinking about how much she had missed him. This sudden visit was supposed to be special, a weekend just for them. She was not going to let anything ruin this.
She adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder and made her way through the sprawling campus. Everything looked so medieval and stunning, almost imposingly so at times; as if the history of this place was larger than life. She made a mental note to make Aegon properly show her around. But the directions Aegon had given her seemed to take her away from the scenic, old city and out to the outskirts.
She ended up at a large, slightly rundown house, clearly a fraternity. She hesitated at the entrance, the open door spilling the sound of music and laughter out into the night. There was a crowd out on the lawn, and from what she could hear, one inside the building too. She glanced down at her phone to recheck the address, pulling at the helm of the denim skirt she wore in nervousness as she looked around the crowd, but she was pretty sure if the smell of weed and alcohol was anything to go by this place was Aegon’s.
Taking a deep breath, she walked up the front porch steps and inside the house, stepping into a chaotic scene of students, red solo cups in hand, grinding to loud music she couldn’t make out the words to.
“Aegon?” She called out, her voice barely audible over the noise. The sea of unfamiliar faces made her nervous, and she started fidgeting with the strap of her carry-on as she anxiously scanned the place for familiar mop of platinum-blonde hair.
“There she is!” Y/N was startled as two arms suddenly wrapped around her from her side, but she relaxed immediately seeing their owner. “oh thank god, I was half scared you’d forgotten I was showing up today” she chuckled, as she shifted to hug him properly. “are you kidding? It’s all I’ve been talking about all week, ask any of the guys.” She felt an immediate sense of relief, once Aegon was with her, hugging him felt as familiar as her room back home. He smelled exactly as she remembered – the same almost sweet-smelling cologne he’d worn since he was 15, the one she had gifted him, mixed with a strong hint of weed and ash. His arms around her felt the same as they did two years ago too, pressing her impossibly close to his chest as if he couldn’t quite trust her to stay.
When she pulled back from him, he wore one of his lazy smiles, but there was something off in his eyes that made her frown slightly. She realised the bags underneath his eyes were darker and he was sweating all over. Okay, maybe it wasn’t all familiar. “you okay?” She searched his face, but he reflected nothing other than his usual impishness, though his eyes felt unusually blank to her. “you’re here I’m more than a-okay, I’m great. Now this party can finally start!” Looking around Y/N wondered if this was the party before it had even started then she didn’t want to stick around to watch it ‘begin.’
“let’s grab you a drink” Aegon took hold of her wrist and started to pull her into the party, but she grabbed she forearm with her free hand to stop him. “I’ve just been on one long train ride, then a taxi, I think I’d rather freshen up first. Can we go to my hotel? Were you able to book that cute, old B&B, the Tower Inn, I asked you to?”
He scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the ground as his grin faltered. “Oh, right… about that… I, uh, forgot.” He winced slightly, but before she could respond, he quickly added, “But it’s fine, you can stay here at the frat! We’ve got plenty of space.”
Y/N’s smile wavered. “Stay here? Aegon, I don’t know if that’s—”
“Hey, it’ll be fun!” Aegon interrupted, grabbing her shoulders with his grin back in full force. His eyes fell on the bag she was carrying and he took it off her, “and anyway you can’t leave, I’ve thrown this party in your honour, after all.” He walked a few steps into a hallway to his left, opening the first door, a door she hoped opened into his room and not some random person’s as he threw her bag in there, unceremoniously. “Plus, it’s just for a weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”
There were in fact many answers she could think to that question, knowing Aegon. Before she could tell him that this wasn’t how she had imagined their weekend together though, he’d grabbed her hand and was already pulling her deeper into the crowd.
He thrust into her hand a solo cup which smelled so strong Y/N wanted to keep it at arm’s length. He then went about introducing her to his frat brothers and friends as enthusiastically as possible, but he wouldn’t let her linger with any one of them. He moved through the room with such easy confidence, Y/N was reminded of why all the girls back at school found his ways charming instead of irritating as she often did. Y/N didn’t have as easy a time at the party though. The room was a whirl of noise and energy, and as much as she tried to immerse herself in it, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place.
After a while, Aegon started to get distracted, his attention repeatedly drifting away from Y/N. First, it was a group of his frat brothers who pulled him into a conversation about some upcoming trip. Then, he got roped into a drinking game, which somehow left him with his shirt off. Y/N tried to pull him aside, fitting him his shirt as she attempted to talk to him about how things had been going for her at college. He seemed to be simply nodding to what she was saying, as he patted his pockets to find something. When his pockets turned up empty, he made an excuse and rushed away to the bathroom. Y/N could only stand there blinking at the place which was previously occupied by him.
Upon his return, she observed there was an extra pep in his step, he seemed to be bursting with energy even more than usual. His words came out rushed, and his eyes were unfocused, even when he was talking to Y/N she had the distinct feeling he wasn’t really listening. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what exactly had changed from the last time she’d seen him.
She tried to stay close to him, but every time she turned around, he was off again, engaged in some new activity or laughing with another group of friends. Eventually, Y/N found herself sipping a suspicious soda she found in the fridge, forcing smiles whenever someone glanced her way, but inside, she was starting to feel more like a spectator than a guest of honour.
From where she stood on the sidelines, her eyes followed Aegon’s figure around the room, the feeling that this weekend might have been a mistake now sinking in. All she’d wanted was for it to be like old times for just one weekend, just the two of them hanging around like they did back in school. She was starting to realise that maybe Aegon wasn’t the same person he was back in school anymore.
Aegon, now deep into his drinks, seemed completely at ease, blending into the chaos around him. But every time Y/N caught his eye, he would flash her a quick smile, as if that would somehow make up for his absence. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, other than stand all alone by the edge of the room, feeling increasingly invisible.
She was lost in her thoughts when a tall guy with a sleazy smirk approached her. He was holding a half-empty beer and leaned in too close for comfort. “Hey there,” he said smoothly, a little too smoothly, his eyes roving over her in a way that made her skin crawl. “You look like you could use some company.”
Y/N stiffened, glancing around the room for Aegon, but he was nowhere in sight. “I’m fine, thanks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady and polite, but the guy didn’t take the hint. He stepped closer, his grin widening as he reached out to touch her arm.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with false charm. “Let me get you a real drink. You’re too pretty to be standing here all by yourself.”
Before she could respond, she felt a familiar arm sling around her shoulders, pulling her close in a protective, yet slightly possessive, gesture. “ah! there you are Y/N, I see you’ve found our resident creep Walder” Aegon’s voice cut through the tension, slurred and slightly rough, but still carrying enough authority.
The guy’s eyes widened in recognition, his cocky demeanour instantly replaced with a more cautious one. “Oh, sorry, Egg,” he stammered, raising his hands in a mock surrender. “Didn’t know she was your girl.”
Aegon didn’t bother to correct him, his grip on Y/N’s shoulder tightening for a moment. Only when the other guy quickly slinked away into the crowd, did Aegon let his arm drop to his side, leaving Y/N standing there with a mixture of relief and irritation inside her.
She turned to Aegon, shrugging off the lingering sensation of his arm around her. “What was that about?” She demanded, her voice sharp, though she was trying to keep her emotions in check.
Aegon just shrugged, as he raised his beer to his lips. “he’s a dick,” he muttered before taking a long swig, his eyes already drifting back to the party as if nothing had happened.
Y/N’s frustration flared. “after freezing me out for most of the night you can’t just show up and act like some kind of knight in shining armour.”
Aegon rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by her reaction. “he’s an ass, I just stepped in to handle it. Stop making a big deal out of nothing.”
“That’s the problem, Aegon!” She snapped, her voice rising with her anger. “You act like everything is just... Whatever. Like nothing matters! You didn’t even correct him when he assumed I was just... Just some girl with you for the night.”
“So what?” Aegon shot back, his irritation now matching hers. “What difference does it make? What does it matter what he thinks?”
“It matters to me!” Y/N shouted, her voice filled with the intensity of her emotions. “I came all this way to see you, and all you’ve done is ignore me and get drunk. Do you even care that I’m here?” “I don’t need this right now.” He muttered, looking around the room again as if searching for an escape.
Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, the hurt overwhelming her. “oh, I’m sorry am I killing your buzz? Fine then,” she said, her voice trembling with barely contained tears. “I’m out of here.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her vision blurred by the tears she was desperately trying to hold back. She pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances thrown her way, and made her way upstairs, locking herself in the first room she saw which turned out to be the bathroom.
She leaned against the door as she finally let the tears spill freely, sobs escaping her throat. She slid down to the floor, her head in her hands, the weight of the night crashing down on her. This wasn’t how she had imagined their reunion, not at all. It was supposed to be special, but instead, it was turning into a nightmare.
A few minutes passed before she heard a knock on the door. “Y/N?” Aegon’s voice was hesitant, still slurred but tinged with a mix of frustration and concern. “Come on, open up. I know you’re in there. Why are you being like this?”
She didn’t respond, trying to stifle her sobs lest he hear them. But the knocking persisted, followed by the sound of him leaning against the door. “Y/N, seriously, just let me in,” he mumbled, his tone softening slightly.
For a second he sounded so sincere, so much like her best friend, that she could almost forget that he was the reason she was crying on the bathroom floor in the first place.
She hesitated, but then stood and unlocked the door, opening it just enough to see him standing there. His usual confident demeanour had slipped slightly, replaced with a defeated look of annoyance as he leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you being such a Debbie downer?” He whined, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“I came all this way to see you and you’ve…” she repeated, her voice cracking as she wiped away the tears. She knew who her best friend was, she knew he had never been the guy to stick by her side all night, to ignore the world when she was around, to make her feel like she was the only person in the world he cared about. But the display of the night had set a new low bar, even for him.
“You always do this,” he muttered, his words slurring slightly as he swayed on his feet, his voice filled with annoyance. “You show up, and suddenly I’m supposed to drop everything, like nothing else matters. Well, I can’t! It’s a party, and I’m not going to babysit you all night.” He sounded so thoughtless and inconsiderate, his face looked so exhausted by the idea of having to be around her.
Her heart twisted at his words, enough anger to make her want to throw something at him flared up inside her and mixed with the sadness of being like a burden to him. “oh well, forgive me for thinking my best friend of ten fucking years would prioritise seeing me for one stupid weekend over attending one of his hundred parties” he looked positively offended at her words and shot, “I threw this one for you!” “Well, I didn’t ask for this!” She snapped back, her voice rising. “I just wanted to spend time with you, Aegon.” Though rage filled her, she should couldn’t help how her tone softened, when she added, “Is that so hard?”
He let out a sharp, exasperated breath, his eyes narrowing, though she could tell he was having a hard time focusing. She was now close enough in that suffocating bathroom to see the beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. His breathing seemed more rapid, she was sure she could hear his heartbeat if she honed in on the sound. This wasn’t the effect of just weed and alcohol, she knew how he reacted to those.
He rubbed his face with his fingers, before dragging them through his hair making them appear even more unruly. “It’s not about it being hard, Y/N. It’s just... Things get complicated with you. You come in with these expectations, and I’m just… I don’t know how to be what you want!” His frustration was clear, but she couldn’t understand what the hell he was so frustrated about.
“What expectations?” Y/N’s voice was incredulous, and confused at his words. Aegon opened his mouth to start to say something to her in response but then stopped midway. He turned around, his back now facing her as he rubbed his eyes, as if talking to her now was a strain on them.
Her anger bubbled over once again, “I just wanted you to act like you cared! Like maybe I wasn’t just some afterthought to you. But how can you even do that when you’re high out of your mind on coke.”
Aegon suddenly turned back to her at the accusation, looking defensive but taken aback. “Don’t start with that,” he shot back as he took a step towards her, his voice sharp despite the slurring. “I’m fine, Y/N. You don’t need to come in here and act like you know what’s best for me.”
“Fine? You call this fine?” Y/N’s voice cracked with a mix of anger and concern. She took a step towards him and grabbed his soaking wet t-shirt, “You’re sweating like this in a fully air-conditioned house, you keep going to the bathroom every five seconds like you ate some bad curry and your eyes are so unfocused you’ve barely looked at me this entire time.” Aegon in response looked less like an addict apprehended and more like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. He looked sheepish almost, his eyes looking away from her, but she caught some shame behind them. Were it anyone else giving him this lecture he would have laughed in their face, but the fact that it was her, it seemed to break through his confident façade.
Her gaze momentarily dropped from his eyes to his lips and she let out a dry, humourless laugh as she saw leftover vestiges of some white powder on his upper lip. She reached out with one hand to brush it aside, sighing sadly “I’m guessing this isn’t sugar.” She had a sudden realisation then how intimate the moment had become, they were standing only inches apart, with one of her hands still grabbing his shirt, the other cupping his face. He looked back at her with a vulnerability that left her feeling like her cheeks were on fire. He didn’t ask her for space, but she suddenly felt like she needed to be miles away from him.
“you know what, you’re right.” She let go of him and cleared her throat as she took a step back. “actually you don’t even need to be in here with me, I’m clearly keeping you from this rager of a party and probably some grade-a-quality coke.” The smell of sweat and smoke mixed in with whiskey and expensive cologne, the smell of Aegon, was getting too much for her when she stood this close to him. She tried to take a few more steps away, as much as the small place would allow when he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
“You don’t get to judge me. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t want to be with you?” She blinked back at his almost pitiful expression, eyes that seemed like they were seconds away from spilling tears. For a second she thought the emphasis with which he said the phrase ‘be with you’ he might not mean just the party, but she couldn’t be sure and the moment fleeted as he went on, “I’m doing my best, but I’m not going to change who I am just because you want something different!” his words spilling out faster than his brain could process them, his frustration mingling with the fog of intoxication.
“I’m not asking you to change who you are!” Y/N shot back, her voice rising in intensity. “I’m asking you to stop pretending like everything’s cool. You keep pushing me away, and then you act like it’s my fault.”
“Maybe it is your fault!” He accused with his voice rising enough to make Y/N flinch and take a step back, but he didn’t let go of her wrist and instead walked closer to her, backing them up till she was against the wall, trapped by him. “because this is what you do. You look at me with those big-big eyes, expecting me to be someone different, someone good, someone more like you. But I’m not you. And I can’t be.” He sounded so resigned, as if this was always how it was going to be, how he was going to be. And the fact that she wanted something better for him was nothing more than a distant, impossible dream. She noticed the tears welling in his eyes were now escaping and she had to do everything in her power to remain mad at him and not wipe them away. Though his tone was one of anger, his expression looked as if this pained him, as if he was cursed and she wasn’t understanding how doomed he was. “I can’t be who you need me to be. And maybe if you didn’t come in here expecting that, expecting everything to be perfect, we wouldn’t be having this fight!”
She scoffed at his words, “Perfect? I of all people would never expect perfect from you Aegon. And I’ve never said you need to be so. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to give a damn! About me, about yourself—about anything!”
They were close now, the space between them almost non-existent, their breaths coming fast and harsh. Aegon still held onto her wrist tight enough to hurt her, but she stared up at him almost defiantly. The air crackled with unresolved tension, the anger between them sparking like a live wire.
Aegon swayed slightly, his hands trembling as he struggled to keep his balance, his whole body tense with frustration. “You think I don’t give a damn?” He growled, his voice low and dangerous, though the slur was still there. “You think I don’t care?”
Before she could respond, Aegon pulled her toward him by the wrist he had been holding capture, with a force that was more clumsy than intentional. His lips crashed against hers in a kiss that was fierce and unyielding, all the pent-up anger and frustration pouring out in that single, desperate moment. It was a collision, an explosion of everything they hadn’t been able to say, their argument turning into something else entirely.
Y/N responded instinctively, her free hand gripping the front of his shirt as if to hold on, the intensity of the kiss taking her by surprise. The anger that had fuelled their fight was still there, but it was being channelled into something raw and primal, a release of all the emotions they had been bottling up. Aegon’s movements were uncoordinated, the kiss messy and driven by the haze of alcohol and drugs, but it was full of the desperate need to connect, to keep her so close to him that she could not leave. His tongue wasted no time in pushing past her lips, with little to no defence being put up by Y/N. As his tongue massaged hers, he finally let go of her wrist and instead reached to put his hands under her shirt, touching the soft skin of her bare lower back. Her own hands reached for his hair, fisting the pale blonde strands for dear life.
He broke the kiss only to travel to the side of her neck, making Y/N gasp with the ferocity with which he attached himself there. She felt the euphoric feeling of his soft lips against her sensitive skin interchange with him cutting at it with his teeth every once in a while, the whiplash of pleasure and pain making her moan. His hand then travelled to her legs, pulling them apart slightly by hooking his hand under her knee, before it trailed up her thigh, and then stopped.
He lifted his head from the crook of her neck, his expression hooded with lust. At him pulling back she became nervous momentarily and searched for any sign of hesitation or regret in him, but was relieved when she found none. All he said was, “Do you want me to stop?” The feeling of his thumb brushing up against her clothed core as his hand grabbed the flesh of her inner thigh, was so tantalising, so inviting, that she could barely get words out, instead just quickly shaking her head. That was all the confirmation he needed, as he caught her breath in his mouth once again closing the very little gap between them.
He had settled in between her thighs, and Y/N couldn’t help but buck her hips against his, with a desperate need to have him pressing against her. Aegon seemingly shared that need as he rubbed against her by pulled her parted thighs closer to his body which made her denim skirt ride up even higher, his lips never leaving hers to so much as breathe.
He shifted his hand to fully place it between her legs and the sudden manner in which he moved her panties aside, letting the air hit her exposed pussy made Y/N gasp into the kiss. Aegon’s finger were quickly rubbing at her button, making her yelp and break the kiss. “Aegon…” she threw her head back against the tilled wall of the bathroom at the feeling of him pressing down against her sensitive spot, his hand moving with vigour and impatience. He then moved his index finger from her clit to push through her folds, his thumb replacing it at the top. His finger curled up inside her in the most delicious way, his thumb never ceasing from massaging her nub. “look at you, dripping with just one finger.” Y/N might have felt more embarrassed by the overenthusiastic response her body had to Aegon, if her mind had the ability to focus on anything other than the feeling in her stomach that just wanted to be pushed further, to reach some conclusion. He seemed dissatisfied with her lack of a response, and pushed another finger in her without warning, making her grab his shoulder and hiss in pleasure.
“Tell me do you like this, like being finger-fucked in the bathroom like a dirty slut?” He cooed in her ear, “yes” she rasped out as her body squirmed from the stimulation. His fingers were working at a rapid speed, pounding into her cunt. Her juices had made the job easier for him, the sick sound of his fingers sliding in and out of her with ease was putting her over the edge. “and how does it feel, to be the dirty little whore getting taken in some fucking party?” Her chest was rising and falling with her quick shallow breaths, to the point that she barely registered his words, but she noticed when he suddenly stopped moving his fingers, holding still inside her. “I asked you how does it feel?” She whined in response, as she opened her eyes to look at him which allowed her to finally see his expression.
She didn’t know what she had expected Aegon to look like, but looking this… delicate, had certainly not been what she would have imagined. He looked almost expectant as if he needed her to tell him how good she felt, how good he was making her feel, how good he was. She reached out and cupped his face, replying with sincerity “Amazing.” The way his face lit up hearing that, she could have watched him forever. His fingers slowly began to start their movement again, “and who’s making you feel this way?” “you, you, you….only you.” She croaked out as she tried to rub herself against his fingers to increase the pace. Her hand reached out covering his hand with her own, trying to push his fingers deeper inside her in desperation which made him grin cockily. “such a needy little slut… all for me.” She could only whimper in response.
It seemed he had gotten his satisfactory answer, because he restarted his previous pace, making her bite down on her lip to silence her moans as she neared her end. “c’mon let me hear your pretty little cries, let me hear you scream” he goaded her as his assault on her folds reached its zenith and she came with a cry of his name.
She felt empty as he pulled his fingers out of her, only to push them against her lips in a silent command, which she readily obeyed. She parted her lips and licked his fingers clean, as he watched with bated breath, “such a good girl” he murmured.
As she finished she noticed the bulge he was now supporting, aroused from all the activity. “my turn” she panted. With unsteady hands she felt his length over the jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down with his underwear to reveal just how ready he was for her, precum leaking off his tip. Her eyes looked up at him for silent approval, as she wrapped her small hand around him. He merely reached out and placed one of her out-of-place hair strands behind her ear, looking on not only in anticipation but also in simple adoration of her. It made her heart beat faster, if that was even possible, as she started to tug at his length.
She felt nervous as she started, but the constant string of praise Aegon was whispering in her ear kept her going. She loved the reaction she could elicit from him, it gave her a high not unlike the one she got when he was pumping his fingers in and out of her. She watched as his face twisted in pleasure, as he had to place a hand on the wall behind her to keep himself upright, as he bit down on his lip with a soft sigh of “fuck.” She’d known him forever and yet, she couldn’t recall a moment that he looked more beautiful than he did in that moment – standing between her legs, her hand reached out to the space between them, squeezing his hard shaft. As he realised he was near completion, he harshly grabbed a hold of her waist and pressed her back to him in a rough kiss, making him come right there on her inner thigh.
He rested his forehead against hers, as they simply stilled for a moment. She could hear the music floating from the party raging outside the bathroom, which almost brought her back to reality. She wanted to say so many things to Aegon, wanted to discuss what this even meant, but she felt this dream was far too beautiful to be so rudely awoken from just yet. From the lack of words from Aegon, she guessed they were on the same page about this.
She glanced down as she felt him harden already against her soft thigh, and glanced back up at him. His expression remained glazed over, as he hummed in content against her skin. “you have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now,” her mouth went dry at his admission. “what’s stopping you?” She boldly replied, a determination in her eyes.
“yeah?” A smile broke across his lips at her encouragement, “you want this?” “I want you.” She confirmed as she reached out and kissed him. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, his hand grabbing her breast through her shirt as he did. He then abruptly turned her around by the waist so she was facing the wall, taking her hands and placing them on either side of her for balance. She could feel him lift up her skirt and slowly drag her panties down her legs, till they were off of her, seeing him place them in his jeans’ back pocket out of the corner of her eye.
He lined up against her and she was waiting in anticipation for when he would fill her, when a knock on the door interrupted the moment suddenly. “Aegon?” In carried the voice of a girl attempting to shout through the door, “Walder said he saw you go in here. How long are you going to be, babe?”
Aegon cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes at the interruption and turning toward the door. “Be there in a minute!”
Without missing a beat, he turned back to her, trying to resume where they left off, hands slipping around her waist. “Looks like it’ll have to be a quickie.”
But the tension between them was starting to dissipate, replaced by a sinking feeling in Y/N’s chest. “‘Babe’?” She echoed softly, the realisation hitting her as she slowly asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” Aegon rubbed his eyes as if the question was an irritating inconvenience. “Define girlfriend.”
“Oh my gods.” Reality came crashing down on her, as she turned around and shoved past him to put distance between them. She grabbed some tissues and started to clean up the mix of his and her own fluids running down her thighs, angry beyond belief and hurt beyond repair. She pulled her skirt down, and got ready to leave.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Aegon asked, bewildered, trying to reach for her again, but she stepped back, avoiding his touch. “just stay the fuck away from me!” She shouted at him. His expression looked confused, which made her even more angry. How could he possibly not get what a big fuck up this was on his part?
Y/N’s voice trembled, but the words spilt out like a dam breaking. “All this time we’ve been friends, I used to be so arrogant about how close we are. How I wasn’t like all the others. That I wasn’t just ‘one of your girls.’” Her chest heaved as she fought to keep her voice steady. “But you’ve proven me wrong, Aegon. You’ve proven that all you’ve ever thought of me is as just one more pretty thing to fuck.”
Aegon blinked, clearly taken aback, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air between them. “Y/N, wait—”
But she was already turning away, her throat tight with unshed tears. The bathroom felt suffocating, the walls closing in on her, and she needed to escape, to get away from the mess she’d walked into.
She pushed the door open, the pounding bass of the party hitting her like a wave as she slipped out into the crowd. She ran to the room where she remembered Aegon throwing her things and grabbed her bag as she made her exit from the frat house.
Outside, the cool night air slapped her in the face, and the cold made her glad to have another sensation to focus on that wasn’t the hurt inside her chest. She stumbled down the steps, her vision blurred, as she started almost jogging on the pathway leading her away. She just wanted to put this place behind her, wanted to get as far away from Aegon as her feet could take her. Lost in her own thoughts she barely noticed the familiar voice calling out to her from a car that had stopped next to her on the road.
She turned around to see a boy with his overgrown curly hair at the wheel, the window of his car pulled down as he looked on with concern. She hadn’t seen him in a year or so but his identity was unmistakable to her, “Jace?” She vaguely remembers Aegon telling her with much annoyance that his nephew had joined him at Oldtown this term.
“You alright?” He looked at her with sympathetic eyes and she had the distinct feeling that he knew the reason for her distress had to be his uncle. Y/N wiped hastily at her eyes, trying to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, her voice barely a whisper. “just need to find a place to stay for tonight.”
“Hop in, let me give you a lift to a decent inn.” He kindly offered, a small, inviting smile on his face. She hesitated, her pride warring with the crushing need for comfort. She looked around and realised she didn’t have many options anyway. With a quiet nod, she accepted Jace’s offer and got in.
The car door clicked shut behind her as she sank into the seat “Thank you,” she softly muttered. He simply shrugged, “It’s no big deal. There’s this amazing place called the Tower Inn, just around the corner. It’s usually got room this time of year.” She couldn’t help but chuckle humourlessly at the mention of the place she had originally planned to be at, if all had gone to plan “Sounds good.”
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beenbaanbuun · 22 days
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it begins - opposites attract universe
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a small snippet from back when darling was nothing more than a sugar baby :)
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“you look—”
“tired? miserable?” you cut hongjoong off as you toss yourself down on the rug that the man had noticed you’d taken quite a liking to. honestly before you came he was wondering whether he should move it to one of the unused guest rooms; it is quite an old thing, after all. upon seeing how much you adore it however, he can’t quite bring himself to shuffle it even an inch to the side. he knows his husband is inclined to agree…
“i was going to say overworked, but i suppose tired and miserable works too,” he chuckles lowly. something about you has him doing that so often, finding himself amused by you even when you’re not in the room. there have been so many late night recently, just him and seonghwa lay together sharing stories of how you’d brightened their day.
“well if i look overworked it’s my bosses fault,” you lift an arm to shield your face from hongjoong’s watchful gaze, but even with that extra layer of protection you can feel him staring at you with that an unfamiliar look in his eyes. he’s been looking at you like that an awful lot recently; seonghwa too.
you wonder if they know that the way they watch you has changed? eyes shifting from lust to something strange that, if you didn’t know any better, you might muddle up with adoration. each time you catch it you have to scold yourself a little, warning yourself to not let your heart swell too much. you’re here on nothing more than a business arrangement; your company for their rewards. at the end of the day, that’s all this is.
but as you shift your arm just enough for you to peek at the suited man, you find yourself realising that this moment is worth more than anything they could give you. the money, the clothes; none of adds up to more than the sight of hongjoong staring down at you with such a bright smile on his face. a smile that you know you caused.
maybe that’s why you still have your job, despite the fact that you haven’t needed it for a while, or why you still wear all your old tatty clothes from before you met them on that fateful night in the club. maybe this whole thing has nothing to do with the money at all.
maybe it never has.
“that’s a pretty dress, lamb,” you hear a second voice enter the room, a pretty pair of black stockings passing briefly through your periphery. knowing seonghwa, they’re thigh high with little lacy details in his thigh, far too high up to be revealed without pushing the hem of his skirt up. “although i must admit, i don’t recall ever buying you anything so long…”
it’s a pointed comment, letting you know that he’s well aware of the fact that you’re not adorning any of the clothes they’ve provided for you. he means nothing by it, and you’re well aware of that fact, but you still can’t help yourself from sighing at his words.
“i can’t wear any of the clothes you buy me to work,” you reply, “i don’t want a trip to HR just because mommy and daddy insist on me showing every inch of skin i have.”
and perhaps that was the wrong this to say because as seonghwa sits down gracefully next to hongjoong, he lets out a little dismissive scoff. as you let you gaze shift from hongjoong’s face to his? you notice that his expression matches the sentiment of the sound. fed up and dismissive, but not angry. never angry.
“and how is work, little lamb,” his words are sharp, “i heard you telling hongjoong you felt—what were the words you used? ah yes, tired and miserable. good day then?”
“seonghwa—”
“what?” he interrupts, “am i not allowed to speak your mind on issues that concern me? tell me, lamb,” he leans forward, elbows on knees and knuckles digging into his cheek, “should i not worry about what our darling does with her spare time?”
you freeze, not entirely sure of the meaning of the cadence of his voice or the words that it speaks. he’s always called you his, or theirs—after all, that’s what they pay you to be. never before has he said those words so possessively, though.
“cara mia,” hongjoong warns; something that you’ve never witnessed him do with seonghwa before. the taller man takes no notice of him, though, his eyes firmly rested on you.
“tell me, lamb,” he purrs dangerously, like a lion about to pounce upon its prey, “what are you here for if you’re not going to make use of our gifts? you are our sugar baby; why do you keep returning here if you don’t want to accept our part of the deal?”
your body sits up on its own; an automatic reaction to the uncomfortable tension that sits over the room like a heavy fog. you know the answer to seonghwa’s question, as you fear he does, but you daren’t say it. once it’s out in the open, there’s no taking it back. maybe that would be a good thing, to finally have your feelings out there, your soul lay bare for them. with seonghwa’s expression do unreadable, and hongjoong’s turning to worry, you’re not so sure.
“seonghwa—”
“tell me,” he cuts you off, “because if you don’t, then darling, i’m not sure i’ll be able to live with this uncertainty.”
oh.
is this it then? you either tell them that you feel more than you should or this whole thing is off? for all you know, they might call it off once they hear what you say. they might kick you out, scolding you for growing feelings where there clearly shouldn’t be any. they might roll their eyes and dismiss you as if you’re nothing but dirt on the bottom of your shoe before telling you that this arrangement won’t work anymore.
perhaps more than that, though, is the possibility of them ignoring it. acknowledging your feelings and moving on as though nothing has changed when in reality, everything has. before you thought you could make it through this with those feelings kept a secret, but if they’re going to be out in the open, then you’re not so sure. after all, a rejection is closure, ignorance is not.
“i enjoy your company,” you say, hoping it’s vague enough to satisfy his curiosity. he narrows his eyes and you can tell it’s not.
“you can enjoy our company and still take our gifts,” he says, voice short and impatient, “the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
you take in a shuddery breath and you can’t lie, part of you is tempted to crawl closer to them just to satisfy your nerves. everything seems okay when you’re bundled up in their arms.
“seong—”
“lamb,” he snaps, “please, just tell me whatever it is that you think you cannot. even if it’s not what we want to hear, i can assure you that nothing bad with happen,” a manicured hand with nails as red as blood reaches forward to catch your chin. you melt into feeling, even the slightest of touch being enough to make things seem just a little better. “you’re far too special for us to allow anything bad to happen to you.”
and just like that, your walls come crumbling to the floor. you shuffle closer to the pair, desperate for something more. you get that something in the form of hongjoong’s hand in your hair. he scrapes his nails against your scalp, humming appreciatively when you melt against the touch, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting. seonghwa, despite his desperation, can’t help but take the opportunity to trace your lower lip with his thumb, tugging it back just before you can resume your usual habit of taking it into your mouth and suckling upon it.
“nothing bad,” hongjoong repeats his husband’s words.
“your company,” you say, voice quiet and breathy as the touch of your two sugar-parents melt you down to nothing, “it means more to me than the gifts ever did. i can go without the clothes and the money, i—” you stop yourself, unsure whether you should let the next few words slip from your tongue. in the end, you know that you’ll have to, but perhaps you can relish in these few seconds in which your secret actually remains just that; a secret.
“you?” seonghwa urges, his hand flattening out against your cheek to stroke it. “what about you, lamb?”
you take a second, maybe two, to build yourself up for the plunge. it feels as though you’re stood on a pier, staring into the murky depths below. your don’t know what’s beneath the water, but what you do know is that seonghwa and hongjoong are already down there. they’re waiting for you to jump; to join them in the only abyss. you want to take that leap, even if you have no clue how deep the water really is. perhaps you will hit something and break your legs, but as you stare into seonghwa’s eyes you realise that they were telling the truth. nothing bad will happen when they’re there to catch you.
“i don’t think i can go without you,” you mutter, “and i think that’s been the case since the very beginning.”
“without us?” seonghwa asks as if the statement isn’t clear as day. what more could he want from you? “you mean to say that this isn’t what we thought it was?”
“well, it was still sugaring,” you try to appease him. he simply shakes his head with a smile.
“but if we’re in it for your company, and you’re in it for ours,” seonghwa breaks eye contact with you for just a moment or so. there’s an almost giddy look on his face as he glances towards the man he married and it remains once his eyes are back on you, “is this not just a relationship? are you not just ours?”
you suppose he has a point.
“is that what you want me to be?” you ask.
“more than anything, dove,” hongjoong replies, “is that what you want to be?”
“yes,” it’s a simple answer, but it says all you need to say, “more than anything.”
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harstyle · 1 month
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The Beginning of Something New
Summary: You and Harry Styles could not be more different— so maybe that's the reason you've hated each other from the start. One conversation on a rooftop is all it takes for you to realize that you may have more in common than you've cared to admit.
Word-count: around 3.3k (she's short)
Warnings: they fight a lot lol, mentions of alcohol and drugs
A/N: Hi there! It's been a while. I wrote this short thing on vacation and felt like posting it. It doesn't really follow a time structure or anything, it's just random little snippets of their relationship to the big confessions at the end but I think it's cute, so I hope you enjoy! Both reader and Harry are in uni and Harry is the lead singer of a band that performs in clubs and pubs around the city. I’d say they’re around 20.
credits to the owner of this photo!
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You can feel his eyes on you, daring.
You’re trying not to entertain it, to keep your eyes on Luke, to feign interest in his life. But it’s so difficult; it’s so difficult with him standing across the room, this weird hue in the air, this magnetic pull he has on you. And it doesn’t matter that you’re touching Luke’s arm or dragging a finger down his chest— all you care to think about is how hard you’re pushing Harry’s buttons.
And how fucking sweet victory tastes.
Well, aside from… you know, having to actually listen to Luke’s blabbering.
“The hotel’s great but the service is unbelievable. I had to wait fifteen minutes for a guy to bring me an extra towel once and I almost handed in a complaint—“
“Right. Luke, I’m going to get myself a new drink. Do you want anything? No? Wonderful.”
Your rough sigh speaks volumes, wasted air solidifying into something more important as you order at the bar. The bartender smiles at you, almost pitiful, and you writhe in disgust when you think about having to go back in a minute. You suppose it’s worth it to prove your point to Harry that you’re not as undesirable as he thinks, but maybe you should’ve done so with a guy who tells more interesting stories. Or at the very least knows not to speak with his mouth full
“Bored already, princess?”
It does irritate you when Harry sees right through you.
“Were you watching us? How cute.”
He rolls his eyes in your periphery. “You reek of disinterest, is all.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m very interested.”
“Very, you say.”
You lock eyes with him, “very.” Your bartender places the drink in front of you and you’re quick to take a sip. Harry snickers at your side. “What do you want, Harry?”
“Nothing. Are you sure you didn’t pay him to take you out?”
“Are you sure you have nothing else to do with your life? Because it sure is a little pathetic how invested you are in mine.”
“Aw come on, sweetheart,” he pinches your cheek and you recoil in an instant, shoving him back. Harry chuckles like he gets off on it. “Admit that you like the attention.”
“From you? I think I’d rather not.”
His smile never fades. “So this guy, very predictable.”
Your eyebrows pinch together, “what do you mean?”
“Just his look and everything. It makes sense you’d go out with him.” When you don’t reply, simply tilting your head in an even mix of curiosity and disdain, he elaborates. “All of the boys you date, they’re the same. Bet his Porsche’s insurance is under his daddy’s name.”
Your fixated glare could kill.
But he doesn’t mind— in fact, he loves it. He knows he’s struck a cord, that he’s right. “There’s no thrill in it. No excitement.”
“He’s everything you could never be, Harry.”
A beat of silence ensues, you take a sip of your drink.
You probably shouldn’t elaborate, but you do. You find yourself wanting to. “He’s kind, and he cares about me. He opens doors and he holds my hand when we’re walking down the street. So yeah, maybe he doesn’t get drunk tattoos or share a joint with me at three in the morning, but he’s a gentleman. And that’s something you could never understand.”
You don’t even wait for him to interject, because at this point it isn’t fun anymore. It’s true; Harry is exciting, he’s a breath of fresh air. He keeps the chase going— but he doesn’t fucking care enough. So it doesn’t matter how often you’ve caught yourself hoping for him to change and see how good you could be if you didn’t hate each other, he will never be an option for you. He likes the game, teetering on the edge of something more certain and then letting go.
Everything happens at night. By morning time, he couldn’t give less of a shit. You’re not good enough for him. Not exciting enough, not spontaneous enough.
And even though you’re sure you hear him calling your name, you don’t turn back for him. You’re already walking to Luke’s table, and finding yourself happy to do so.
“Everything okay?” He asks when catching wind of your tight expression.
“Yeah. Let’s finish this drink and get the hell out of here.”
His eyes are much greener at night, and you hate it.
You hate the rasp in his voice and how smooth it sounds in spite of it. You hate how his eyes close when he’s entranced in the music, when he feels his guitar riff flowing like blood through his veins. And mostly you hate how weak you are, how little convincing it took for you to be here tonight.
By the end of his set, you’re three martinis in and Jessica is poking you in the shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Im fucking great, Jess.”
You don’t see why your friends are always walking on eggshells when the topic of Harry comes up. You and Harry can’t stand each other, that’s it.
And yet every time they act like you’ll break into tears when you see him.
Mitch and Harry return to the table in your periphery and you try your best to ignore their presence. Sometimes you feel bad that Mitch seems to be at the receiving end of your cold attitude so often because he’s genuinely a cool guy, but he’s also Harry’s bandmate. It’s aversion by association.
“Great set, guys!”
Jessica and Mitch aren’t officially dating, but they’re fucking. Hanging out. Hence the reason for your frequent visits to this club and to their gigs; she forces you to come and you can never say no to her.
Mitch slings an arm around Jess’ shoulders, kind enough to acknowledge you with a welcoming smile. They’re perfect for each other and you can’t help but let a grin tug at your lips when you see yet again how happy he makes her.
You wish you could have that.
The couple leaves to get drinks, leaving you and Harry alone.
“Didn’t bring your boyfriend?”
Your eyes roll. It’s involuntary at this point how often you do it. “Can you get off of my dick?”
“If you hop on mine.”
Disgust molds your features, “you’re fucking gross.”
He laughs. You don’t find him funny at all.
His grin dims. “Trouble in paradise then?”
“No trouble. He’s just not here.”
You’re lying; you haven’t called Luke in weeks and he hasn’t reached out either. You don’t think that’s going to change.
“So you’re still dating him.”
“Yeah. Does that bother you?”
You watch as his jaw constricts and clenches. Then he shakes his head, surprising you with the silence it’s accompanied by.
And for some reason, it causes a twist in your stomach. A guilty twist, like it’s somehow your fault the air has turned uncomfortable.
It takes you seconds to realize that for the first time since you’ve gotten to know him, he’s failed to deliver a snarky remark or a hurtful comment; anything resembling a testament to the hatred the two of you feel for one another.
It’s like he has something he wants to say, something on the tip of his tongue, but he’s a coward when it comes to relationships and vulnerability, so he can’t bring himself to do it. And you have enough self-respect to not pry it out of him.
“I have a thing in an hour so I’ll get going. Do you need a ride home?”
For some reason, his offer doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You and Harry can hate each other all you want, but at the end of the day he’ll still care enough to make sure you don’t get harassed on the way home. Somewhat comforting, but only somewhat.
You also know exactly what his thing is, and thinking about it makes you nauseous.
Your first instinct is to say no, but then you pause. Your eyes wander to Jess and Mitch kissing by the bathrooms and you find yourself unable to resist the offer of a ride, as much as you’d hate having to sit in a car with him.
“Yeah, okay.”
Harry’s only confirmation is a subtle nod. He probably hates the idea just as much as you do, but having a death or an injury on one’s conscience can’t feel better than having to endure this.
Most of the ride goes swimmingly, but that’s owed to the silence.
And then you get sick of it, and it all goes downhill.
“You’re the most confusing guy I’ve ever met, you know that?”
His jaw clenches again.
But you don’t stop, probably because the alcohol is finally taking its effect. “You’re mean and as emotionally unavailable as a fucking tree.”
In any other setting he’d probably smile at the comparison, but he’s not in the mood today. He says your name and it resembles a warning.
“I just don’t— I don’t fucking get it. Because you’re nice to everyone else and every one of our friends loves you. But with me you have a problem, with everything I do. I can never do anything right, I’m never right—“
“Do you realize that maybe it’s just you? That you never shut up, that you’re so fucking irritating. You walk around like you’re god-chosen, pretending to know everything better than anyone else. You’re so— it’s so fucking irritating.”
Silence.
He shouldn’t have said anything— least of all anything he didn’t think through beforehand.
But it isn’t his words that terrify you; it’s how he says them. He’s so… genuine. It’s not some halfhearted comment delivered out of spite. No, it’s real, something you can tell he’s kept concealed for a long time out of… what, something he considers kindness?
But you don’t want to self-reflect. You don’t want to open up a can of worms. Instead, your hatred for Harry only flares up. It eats you up and leaves your body in strong waves.
“Pull over.”
You can tell Harry regrets his outburst when he sighs, knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Princess—“
“Pull over, Harry. I want to walk.”
“It’s dangerous out—“
You don’t care anymore, though, his pleas becoming background noise as you’re opening the door and getting ready to step out mid drive. Harry finally gives. He’s not worried about the damage you might’ve caused to his door, he’s worried about your state. How angry you seem and how much alcohol is in your system.
You slam the door shut, hug your blazer closer to your body and start walking.
Guilt spreads in Harry’s chest as he watches you walk away from him. He messed up.
He’s sure there’ll be a special place in hell waiting for him when he sees your shoulders tremble. You’re crying. And it’s all his doing.
His forehead hits the steering wheel.
Fuck this.
You’ve always loved watching the stars on your own. You suppose it’s how stuffy the room was that makes this particular viewing significantly more enjoyable, though, the air clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel protected. The rooftop is secluded, offering a view of the city in its twinkling lights. For a minute, you forget that you’re depressed. You forget that you haven’t spoken to Harry in two months and that it’s left a gaping wanting hole in your chest.
The beer in your hand isn’t cold anymore, your phone has died and your heels are long discarded on the floor somewhere. Your arms are resting on the railing.
You’re a reasonably social person, but the idea of talking to a human being right now makes you want to vomit. And you feel bad, truly bad, because it’s Nina’s birthday. Because you’re having a party in the art gallery she opened earlier this year, because you should be down there celebrating her achievements like all of your friends are doing— and you feel so incredibly selfish for not feeling up to the task. For feeling like you want to fucking cry just because Harry’s here too, and you weren’t expecting him to be.  
You hear your name being called. You know exactly who it is; you would probably know by the pattern of his breathing, really, and that realization makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come back up.
“Everyone’s worried about you. You just disappeared.”
Your frown deepens. You can’t look at him right now.  “Are they?”
He sounds impatient and you don’t blame him. “Yes. Can you come in?”
You sniffle, “in a minute.”
“Princess—“
“I said in a minute, okay? Just— give me a minute.”
He allows you silence for another minute. Two, actually, before walking closer. You can’t see him, but his presence is loud enough for you to know.  
“Are you okay?”
You shake your head, “no.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
“No.” You breathe in deep, readying yourself for something you’ll probably regret later. But the sudden rush of courage is overwhelming, so you’ll take your chances. “I, uh… I’m always terrified of being exposed to hurt. And so I think, as a defense mechanism, I close up around people. At least the ones who show signs of disliking me.” His silence allows you to go on. “And I always got the impression that you hated me. I never knew what I had done, but I knew you didn’t like me, and that sent me into a fucking spiral because I hate when that happens.” You interrupt yourself in a chuckle, watching as lights flicker off in the distance. “And so maybe subconsciously, in the beginning, I made it a mission of mine to make you like me, you know? Which is why I used to try to talk, to keep conversation going, never shut my mouth. And when I realized that wasn’t working, I needed to shut myself off.  Keep you as far away as possible because I knew you would hurt me one way or another.” One last deep breath helps you bask in this feeling of relief. For once in your life, you’re being honest.
“And so I know that I can be overbearingly rude, that I get on your nerves, but it’s because…” you can’t bring yourself to say the complete truth, so you modify it a little, “it’s because if you knew the real me, the version that everyone else knows, then you would know how to hurt me. And I didn’t want that to happen.”
His breathing changes, you hear it. You almost can’t believe you would open up like you did, but somewhere deep down you’re also proud of yourself.
“And I’ve realized now that… that somewhere along the way I got swept up in the illusion of it. The nights we spent together getting tattoos and drinking until morning, I took them for something they weren’t because I wanted it all to be real. I wanted for us to be real, I guess, for us to stop hating each other so much. I held onto the hope, but you would never communicate the same to me. And that scared me because I felt like I wasn’t enough for you. But instead of accepting it, I got meaner and more defensive because I felt played.”
“And I know it’s so… it’s so fucking weird for me to say this to you now like it’s some kind of confession, but… I just can’t shut up, so.”
You find it comical how it all flows out of you like water. How easy it seems now and how much of a big deal you used to make it.
“I never hated you.“ He says after a beat of quiet.
“You didn’t?” You ask as you turn around, pressing your back to the railing. He sticks his hands into the pockets of his washed out jeans and walks closer. He stops next to you, his arms resting on the railing. It’s his turn to watch the lights.
“No,” he shakes his head, taking a deep breath to brace himself. “I… when I saw you for the first time, I felt drawn. I thought you were sweet and funny, and you definitely had me wrapped around your fucking finger by the second time we met. It terrified me, how someone like you could have that effect on me.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone so caring and deserving of something more than I could offer her. What you said at the bar that night, it was true. It was all true. Because I never had to be a gentleman before, you know? I don’t exactly date. You know that.” You do. “And I knew that you could worm your way in and completely change my life if only you wanted to. You could hurt me a million times over and I would forgive you every time.”
You can feel his eyes on you, studying the curve of your nose like it’s something he wants to memorize. “I was insecure. I didn’t want to get hurt, so I chose to scare you off. But it was real, all of it; the nights we spent together, everything in between. I pretended like it wasn’t, but deep down I knew it would come to kick me in the ass.” You laugh at his choice of words; he smiles in return. “Because you’re… you’re perfect for me, you know? And letting myself be happy was too much to ask, so I resorted to being an arse. I figured if I could control how you felt about me, I could control how I felt about you.”
You always thought you and Harry were complete opposites... you’re talkative, Harry’s quiet. You’re warm, Harry’s cold. You can’t take it when people don’t like you, and Harry couldn’t give less of a shit.
But now you know that it isn’t the complete truth. Beneath that superficial layer you know so well, there are similar fears. At it’s base, you’re both scared of hurt. You’re scared of exploring unknown territory and risking everything in the name of something that could leave you heartbroken. It could all be for nothing.
And yet, could it not still be worth it?
“We’re both stupid.”
Harry chuckles, and you’re convinced it’s the most beautiful sound anyone could make.
He taps his fingers against the metal railing, nodding. “That we are.”
For the first time in a long time, the silence you share is comfortable. It isn’t courtesy of having too much to say and yet saying nothing, instead it’s courtesy of having said everything and agreeing it’s enough. For now, at least.
You smile to yourself.
The door opens, revealing a timid Jess.
“Hey guys, we’re about to cut into the cake.”
“We’re coming,” you say, sharing a short look with Harry. The two of you walk down the stairs, Harry behind you and Jess in front.
Nina embraces you, ushering both you and Harry closer. If she noticed you were gone, she doesn’t mention it and you’re thankful for that. Tonight, you just want to be a good friend.
And although you have more to say, you’re not worried. Because it’ll all be fine— you’ll be fine.
Nina blows out her candles, everyone erupts into cheers. You grin, sharing a look with Harry over the rim of your bottle. It’s longer this time, something worth holding onto. His eyes are daring, they’re sure, and most of all, they’re welcoming.
It’s a guarantee of trust, a confirmation of the beginning of a new chapter. And although you’re eager to explore it, you have no doubt in your mind that the story won’t come to an end for a while.
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toxic3mmy · 4 months
Note
Quackity catching you watching edits of him. 😭
eeeeeek im always watching edits, also this is a super short drabble
prompt: alex finds you not so sneakily watching edits of him
no warnings!!
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you were supposed to be doing some studying but the second you grabbed your phone, you were distracted. before you knew it, you were almost an hour into watching edits of your boyfriend.
you couldn’t help it! he was just so hot and people seriously made some really good edits of him.
you were laying faced down on your bed with your feet in the air, kicking back and forth. you felt like a giddy school girl the way you would giggle and start to blush the more you watched these edits.
“y/n! im home… what are you doing?” he asked as he stood in the doorway
“oh uh, nothing. hi… im so glad you’re home” you said, trying to sneakily hide your phone away
“are you sure? it looks like you’re trying to hide your phone..” he chuckled softly
“i was just watching a video and i got a bit distracted, ya know, surfing the web… looking at memes” you say nonchalantly
“well.. i could use a little laugh, show me some” he offered
“i don’t think you’ll find them funny… how was work?” you say quickly, trying to change the subject
“oh come on, dont be silly. of course ill find whatever you’re looking at funny. let me see” he pouted and started walking closer to you
“lexie!” you yelped as he tried to quickly snatch your phone
the two of you playfully wrestled each other, trying to take hold of your phone. at some point, the phone had slipped from your grip and alex was looking at the screen. he looked up at you with a smirk
“memes huh? y/n, it looks like you’re watching edits of me”
“n-no i wasn’t… it’s this weird virus everyone has been getting lately” you facepalmed, realizing how stupid that sounded
he clicked play and a spanish song began to play as snippets of alex merged together on your phone screen
“that is just a terrible, terrible excuse, princesa” he said,
“so tell me, what’s your favorite edit of me?” he purred into your ear
“well since you asked so nicely… probably this one with an audio of you saying you have your house empty until 9pm..” you say shyly
“ohh… so you want to be alone with me huh? well guess what?”
“what” you answered
“i don’t see anyone else here with us… why don’t you stop watching those edits and instead, i give you a private show hm?”
“o-okay” you stuttered as he crawled over you slowly
“i thought you’d like that idea, sweetheart” he said as he reached forward to kiss you
he definitely gave you a show way better than the edits you enjoyed watching.
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hailsatanacab · 7 months
Note
I'll ask after that secret number 8!
I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅
Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?
———
It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.
Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.
Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 
It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 
A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.
Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.
“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”
“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.
Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.
“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”
Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 
It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!
He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—
“I’m Batman.”
The smile freezes on Danny’s face.
His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—
“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 
Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.
“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”
It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 
Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 
Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…
A little over a year. 
Just under 16 months since he escaped.
“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks
Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.
Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 
“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.
Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?
"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"
"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.
"I don't understand, why..." 
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"
"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"
It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.
But it was easier than this.
"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."
"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"
"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"
"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!
Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.
"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"
Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.
Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.
But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.
Before he... 
He really thought this would be different, you know?
He wanted to make it official.
"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."
"Danny, we are a—"
"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 
Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.
"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."
"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."
"Danny—"
"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"
"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."
Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.
He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!
The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?
Steph is chewing on her thumb. 
Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.
He likes them all.
"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."
"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."
"But you work with them and—"
"Who do I work with?"
"The Justice League."
"Yes, I do, but we—"
"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."
Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.
"Kill me."
"Danny? What do—"
"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."
"Danny..."
"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."
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sailortongue · 11 months
Text
Special Agent Doctor
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
summary: a nice day out with your boyfriend gets interrupted
Today could not get more perfect. Your boyfriend had recently gotten home from a case and had been given a few days off to recuperate. You’d spent your morning cuddled together on the couch, each nursing your daily cup of coffee as you watched TV together. When lunch rolled around, neither of you felt like cooking and it was a beautiful day, so Spencer suggested walking to the local diner and then perhaps stopping by the book shop since you would be in the area.
So off you went, walking hand in hand down the sidewalk, basking in each other's company. As expected, lunch was delicious, and with full bellies you both headed to the bookstore you frequented. It was a quaint shop owned by a sweet woman named Mrs. Sherry who has come to know both you and Spencer by name. But alas, you should have known that no day could possibly be so perfect.
Spencer had wandered off to explore the biography section, leaving you to browse alone. You were attempting to grab a book just a bit too high on the shelf for you to reach when you felt someone press up behind you and pull the book from the shelf for you. With the book now in hand, you turned to thank who you thought was Spencer and were shocked to find your ex boyfriend. Your smile instantly dropped off your face and you thanked him curtly before trying to sidestep him to go find Spencer.
“No, wait!” he exclaimed, lightly gripping your elbow to prevent you from leaving. He cleared his throat awkwardly, not knowing what to say but also not wanting you to walk away. “Uh, you look good,” he starts. “How have you been?”
“Fine.”
“That's good, that's good. Listen, I’m free this Saturday. We should catch up.”
You were quick to decline his request, wanting nothing to do with the man who had cheated on you.
“Oh, come on, babe, I know you miss me,” he said with a grin, eyes raking up and down your figure. “I sure miss you.”
“Miss you? She doesn't so much as think of you.” came an irritated voice from a few feet behind you. Spencer had initially sought you out to show you a book he thought you’d be interested in, but instead found you cornered by some random man he’d never seen before. But it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on, especially after hearing the snippet of conversation that he did.
“Who the fuck are you? Mind your business.” Said your ex to Spencer aggressively before directing his attention back to you. “Do you know this guy?” he asked, jerking his thumb towards Spencer.
This time, when you felt someone behind you you knew for sure it was Spencer. He’d wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest protectively.
“As a matter of fact I do. He’s my boyfriend.”
Spencer shot the man a smug grin, arms still secure around you.
Your ex laughed derisively as he looked at you in disbelief. “Boyfriend? This toothpick?”
Before you could defend him yourself, Spencer spoke up. “Is that so hard to believe?”
The other man eyed Spencer up and down with a look of scorn. “Yn likes a man that can protect her. You look like a slight breeze could blow you away. Now, me on the other hand,” he gave you a salacious smirk as he gestured to his admittedly chiseled physique.
Spencer frowned with distaste and furrowed his brows. “I can protect her just fine,” he said defensively.
“Says who?” your ex scoffed.
Fed up with the insufferable man, Spencer pulled out the credentials he keeps with him at all times, making sure to introduce himself with both of his titles. “Special agent Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI."
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Note
AITA for telling my bf that he is an asshole for dismissing my sexuality?
(I genuinely don't know if I'm in the right or just overreacting so I could really use some feedback! Also apologies, English isnt my first language. )
Disclaimer for slight NSFW:
For a bit of context, my bf (32M) and I F(27) have been together for a bit over a year, and it's been really great. The only downside is that he grew up in a very traditional household, so he grew up with very outdated beliefs. Even before we started dating, he was trying to unlearn said beliefs. Another important note is that we live about one and a half away from each other, so we don't get to be with each other a lot atm.
The other night texted him I was going out and jokingly said, "Maybe I'll make out with another girl." And he replied "that would turn me on" and I seriously asked him if it was okay if I could kiss anyone which he replied to "if it's a girl, you don't need to ask but if it's a guy, I need to be there and maybe I'll say yes". I was a bit confused and asked him to elaborate. He basically explained that making out or having literal sex with a woman isn't the same as making out and having sex with a guy. Which made me incredibly frustrated as I would have the same intimate connection with a women than I would have with a man but it just sounded like he was just turned on by the idea of me sleeping with a women and since he didn't feel the same about it if it was with a man, I shouldn't do it.
I told him off of course, expressing how that felt like bisexuality erasure and that I felt he was using my sexuality as a kink thing for him. He went back and told me that "its a respect thing" ??
Here is a snippet of what he said, "Ok, another misunderstanding going on here, to me a guy sticking his dick into you is different than you being with a girl....again TO ME! Nothing to do with your sexuality or how you feel, it has to do with how I feel how it makes me feelI am not talking or taking away from you or your sexuality, i am talking about how I feel about it"
We fought a bit more and I haven't spoken to him in a couple of days since I asked for space to reflect upon this. I genuinely don't know if I overreacted about this situation.
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feyhunter78 · 1 year
Note
PLEASE TELL ME PT 11 IS OUT SOON PLSS OH KY GODD.
It's out rn babyyyy
Pink Pastels Pt 11
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Description: You spend some time debriefing, teaching, and putting up with parents. Pt 12:
“You did what?” Janey yelps, slapping a hand over her mouth as you recount the events of Saturday night.
“I may or may not have been eaten out by Spiderman…and called him by Mr. O’Hara’s name.” You whine, hiding your face in your hands.
“I’ve been there.” Melissa comments, “not with Spiderman though, with my ex-husband.”
Janey’s eyes were wide, and she shook her head in disbelief. “Girl, what? How? What about your boyfriend?”
You close your eyes, groaning as you remember the guilt you felt when you returned to your apartment on shaky legs, passing a still unconscious Todd before you locked yourself in your bedroom and tried to forget what happened on the roof.
“He doesn’t know, obviously, Spiderman is like his favorite hero, it’ll crush him.” You say, dragging your hands down your face.
“I feel like the cheating part will crush him more, but ya know, that’s just me.” Melissa pats your shoulder as she exits the teacher’s lounge. “Keep your chin up kid, he’s not worth the stress anyways.”
You sink down into the couch. “Ugh Janey what do I do? And oh my gosh, how am I even supposed to look Mr. O’Hara in the eye?”
You feel the couch cushions dip, and Janey wraps her arms around you. “It’ll be okay, you just need to figure out your next steps. Let’s just get through today, then worry about what you’re going to tell Todd.”
You nod and return her hug. “Okay, yeah, you’re right, I’ll just focus on teaching, and then I’ll figure the rest out.”
You walk to your classroom, smoothing down your skirt, breathing deeply through your nose as you try to calm yourself.
Todd was gone by the time you woke up on Sunday, and you had taken a relaxing bath, running your fingertips lightly over the strange marks on your thighs. You hadn’t felt any pain that night. Honestly you felt nothing but blinding pleasure, your breathing growing heavier just with the thought of the way his tongue and fingers curled inside you, the way his husky voice deepened as he lapsed into Spanish. You hadn’t felt that good since your first wet dream of Miguel—
“And Spiderman has talons, and fangs! I saw them on the news!” You catch a brief snippet of conversation as you pass an open classroom, and your mind reels, your steps stuttering keeping you by the door.
That’s what those marks are.
“I heard his fangs have venom in them that paralyze anyone he bites.” One of the boys says, excitement clear in his tone. Spiderman is a hero, the city’s hero. He defeated every villain the rose to power until there were none left. Now he spends his time protecting the average civilian, like you…
Paralyze? The thought lingers for a moment, your mind whirling, flashes of images, Spiderman biting into your thigh, your body locking, free for him to play with as he desires. Good girls take cock. Would he fuck you like that? Arrange your limbs as he wished, toy with your body, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you, while you lay pliant beneath him.
It would be so nice to not have to worry about it. To surrender to his hands, to let him fuck away every thought in your mind, leaning over you, his breath on your skin, his deep voice whispering, such a good girl, you take my cock so well, querida.
“Ms. Y/N, I lost my tooth.” Dahlia’s mouth is bleeding, and she’s holding her tooth in her hand proudly.
“Oh, oh my goodness, that’s so exciting, let’s go to the nurse and get it all cleaned up.” You smile at Dahlia, banishing all thoughts of Spiderman from your mind.
Now was not the time to be horny, you had a job to do.
Once you got Dahlia’s tooth situation sorted out, you took her back to the classroom and began to write the date on the board, and the day’s schedule.
It’s not unusual for Dahlia to be here a bit early. You know both her parents work, and you told them it would be fine for them to drop her off early and wait for school to start in your classroom.
Sure, it might mean you can spend less time in the teacher’s lounge before class starts, but you know how tough it is for working parents, and Dahlia is a good kid. She always comes in with some wild story to tell you, or she tries to get a head start on her next assigned reading.
“Ms. Y/N, can I ask you something?” Dahlia’s voice is quiet, not something you’re used to. She’s a confident girl with a quick wit, and no problem making sure she’s heard.
You set down your expo marker and kneel beside her desk. “Of course, sweetheart, you can ask me anything.”
She rubs at her eyes, already beginning to sniffle, and your heart breaks. “I just don’t understand this.” She pulls out yesterday’s math homework, and places it on her desk.
It’s crinkled, filled with scratch and eraser marks, and your heart breaks further when you see the little sad faces she’s drawn instead of answers.
“Oh, honey, that’s okay, math is hard.” You rub her back comfortingly and smooth the paper out. “Why don’t you tell me where you’re having trouble, and we’ll go over it together?”
Dahlia sniffles but nods and begins to point out where she’s getting stuck.
You go through it with her, explaining step by step, breaking it down, so she understands the process.
Soon she gets it, though she still stumbles, sevens are especially hard for her, and you can feel her getting frustrated again. After her third wrong answer, she throws her pencil down and buries her face in her in arms, the butterfly clips in her braids clacking against the desk. “I can’t do it, I’m stupid.”
“No, no, no, you’re not stupid, Dahlia, you are so, so, smart, you’re just having a hard time. It’s okay, Ms. Y/N, is bad at math too.”
She peeks up at you. “Really?”
You smile and fold your arms on her desk before resting your chin on them, so your eyes are level with hers. “Yeah, I had trouble with math the entire time I was in school. I still have trouble with it, but that’s okay because I know I’m smart in other ways, like reading, and history.”
“I like reading.” She mumbles, her small hand catching onto the sleeve of your blouse, seeking wordless comfort.
“And you’re very good at it, I always tell your mom and dad about how well you read, and how you help your classmates when they’re struggling.”
“I like helping.”
“And I think that’s one of the many things that makes you special, so don’t be mean to yourself just because math is a little tough. You’re a very smart girl, you just have to take a bit more time with math, and that’s okay.”
She wipes her nose on her sleeve and nods. “Okay, Ms. Y/N, thank you.”
You squeeze her forearm then stand. “Of course, sweetheart, I’m always here for you.”
It’s six ten, Tommy’s mom is late. You tap your foot against the linoleum, watching the door as you wait for her, stomach churning with nerves.
Todd was blowing up your phone, and you couldn't even stand to look at it, too nervous to even read, so you slide your phone into your desk drawer.
“Ms. Y/N?” A woman’s voice caught your attention, and suddenly who you assumed was Mrs. Tompson was seated before you.
“Mrs. Tompson, yes, hi, thank you so much for coming in.” You stick out your hand for her to shake, but she just looks at it then crosses her arms, leaning back in the chair.
“You said Tommy has been having some issues with the other kids?” She says, her eyes flitting across the board, uninterested.
“Well, actually…he’s been the issue. He’s disruptive, and I know he’s not trying to be bad, or disrespectful, but his actions are aggravating his fellow classmates and I don’t want him to end up driving away his friends.”
She looked at you, her lips pressed into a tight line. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
You blink. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re his teacher, can’t you just force the kids to get along?”
You take a deep breath. “Ma’am I can’t force the kids to get along, they have their own minds and opinions, all I can do is help ease the tension, but everything I’ve tried isn’t working. That’s why I wanted to talk to yo—”
“So, you’re saying this is my fault?” She snaps, sitting up in the chair.
“No, no, I wanted to talk to you so that we could work together and find a solution for Tommy, I really do think that maybe he could benefit from some testing, he’s showing a lot of signs of ADHD, which isn’t a bad thing—”
“My son is not a freak; he doesn’t need testing.” She narrowed her eyes at you, anger seeping into her voice.
“No, he’s not a freak, he’s a good kid, I just think he might need a little extra help, and—” You pull out the pamphlets and hand them to her—“if we work together, I really think he could thrive in class.”
She takes the pamphlets, flipping through them, then she threw them back onto your desk. “Obviously you can’t handle your students, and you just want them drugged up, so you don’t have to do any actual work.”
“Mrs. Tompson, I assure you that is not the case.” You hold up your hands, pacifying.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, you had done your research, started off calmly, and reiterated that Tommy was a good kid. You just wanted to get him some extra support.
She stands, rolling her eyes, her voice cold. “I’ll be going to the principal about removing Tommy from your class, he doesn’t need to be dragged down by a subpar teacher who obviously doesn’t care about her students.”
“Mrs. Tompson—” You call out to her, but she’s gone, the sound of her heels getting farther and farther away.
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omegalomania · 6 months
Text
the thing is that i can still remember the way it felt.
end of november, 2022, suddenly every feed lights up. they're doing something. people are posting images of the chicago tribune, a full page ad that has this bicolored logo, a face both happy and sad, black and white, and it simply says: FOB8.
"is this real?" quite a few people were skeptical after the years-long pause between mania and now. "i'm not convinced."
"it's a full-page ad in a single chicago newspaper out of nowhere, right after joe got finished doing a whole book tour where he insisted they had no new music to speak of," i answered. "of fucking course it's real. it has fall out boy all over it."
i remember so vividly the sense of wonder that arrived on christmas morning of that same year, when i woke up at the exact right moment to learn that fall out boy did something again. an eerie, playful, earnest, weird claymation video with a haunting soundtrack, featuring a little black and brown dog. it was mystifying and bizarre and striking - a sprinkling of stardust on the dog's muzzle that prompted it to sneeze - and the adrenaline rush i got from the snippet of heart-pounding drums and guitar was the best gift i'd received all year.
so much (for) stardust. i've said it before and i'll say it again - it's a damn near perfect title. it's a play on words, it has multiple meanings nested into one another. given enough time, we all fall apart like so much dust, like so much stardust because that's where we came from. we are made of and from stardust. for stardust. so much for stardust. so much for the cosmic clay that shaped us. so much for this life, so much for the very foundational fucking firmament from which we we all sprang, so much for this whole strange weird existence. it's exhaustion and anger and spite and frustration and, at the same time - it's wonder. it's love. it's a doberman frozen in an instant of elated play, snapping at bubbles. it's a dog breed conventionally associated with danger captured in a moment of buoyant delight. it's an oil painting, surrounded by words shaped from sparkling clay.
it's love.
it's a record full to bursting with love. it's in the very first song they sent to us, sending us their love from the other side of the apocalypse. it's a record that says yes, the world is a mess and it feels insurmountable. maybe existence is meaningless. maybe it's all fucking pointless and we're all gonna die anyway. but like hell that means i'm not going to love life with all that i am. like hell i am going to let that stifle me. if nothing matters, then love is what matters.
and they committed to it, too. if there's one thing we can take away from so much for (tour)dust, it's that fall out boy loves us the way we love them. they'd have to, right? they could have called it quits years ago. hell, they could've packed it up after the hiatus and just never come back. they'd have to really love doing this to want to keep at it, years later, and look at that. they have.
fall out boy, at the end of the day, is propelled by love. they have to really love what they do to keep doing it. they have to love each other, love the music, love the fans, to keep doing what they do. this is something they've repeatedly asserted over the course of this tour and record cycle: the sheer, shared joy, the positive feedback loop of creative energy that comes from sharing something you made with the world and seeing the world respond in turn.
the world is a wreck and it feels, at times, like nothing you do matters or changes anything. so much (for) stardust is the antithesis to that kind of existential apathy. look, it says. look at what your love has changed. because as desolate and nightmarish and inescapable as the pitfalls of this strange, oftentimes terrifying existence can be - we have laughter, we have good friends, we have good music, and we have the ability to not let our own ennui defeat us. there are things in this world worth living for. there are things in this world worth loving. you have to love one another. you have to laugh and do whatever silly, inane thing makes you feel alive. you have to hug your friends and sing with them, cry with them, and savor every drop of this life that we get. prioritize love. be seriously unserious.
a week before this record came out, i spent some 6-7 hours in a car driving to a record store to hear it with a bunch of people, many of them strangers. i heard so much (for) stardust in its entirety in a record store with one of my favorite people, surrounded by awed chatter as we all drank it in. we didn't catch all the words, but the ones we heard sank into us and took root. i almost couldn't bear to wait for to hear the record properly.
a year later, it's sunk into the recesses of my soul. i'm not sure it'll ever come unstuck there. i don't think i want it to.
thanks for the stardust, fall out boy.
we love you back.
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k-s-morgan · 5 months
Text
ATLWETD Snippet
I couldn't decide which part to pick for a snippet for ages so I just picked randomly)
“These are all new ones,” Hagrid said excitedly, pointing at the huge self-made basket filled with grass and hay. “I do what I can for them. Visit them every day and bring them meat, all that thing. But it’s getting colder again and I worry that they might freeze to their death. I thought of getting them blankets but—”
Riddle let out a quiet snort. His face took on a haughty look, and Harry didn’t have to even guess to know what he was thinking. That Hagrid was a pathetic half-breed incapable of doing magic, something that was supposed to be inherent to anyone worthy of life.
Anger stirred in his chest, and he turned away from Riddle, focusing on the cubs.
He couldn’t say he felt much affection towards them. They were small, ugly, and they were writhing in their basket restlessly, trying to push closer to one another.
Hagrid was right, they were cold. And it was a problem Harry could easily fix.  
“How did you find them?” he asked, taking out his wand and transforming the basket into something resembling a dog house he’d seen back at the Privet Drive, in the yards of some of the Dursleys’ neighbours. He didn’t know if it would be suitable for little werewolves, but it was better than nothing. Now he had to figure out how to use a warming charm that would stick — he had no desire to venture this deep into the Forbidden Forest again.  
Hagrid began to explain something, but Harry only half-listened. He murmured a spell, waited, and then touched one of the cubs carefully, checking if it was getting warmer.
The moment his fingers pressed against the soft coat, the second cub raised its head and tried to bite him. Harry barely managed to snatch his hand away. His still-broken finger collided with his wand by accident, flaring with unpleasant warmth. He cursed, more out of annoyance at his own carelessness than pain, when Riddle suddenly appeared next to him and grabbed him by his collar, dragging him to his feet harshly.
“What kind of an idiot are you?” he hissed. He clenched Harry’s wrist, examining his hand with burning intensity. “Touching this filth! Do you want to be infected?”
“Infected?” Harry repeated in confusion. Belatedly, he realised that Riddle was probably right. The cubs looked like simple wolves, there was nothing human-like in their shape, so the fact that their bite could be dangerous didn’t occur to him.
“They can’t infect yeh!” Hagrid protested. “They come from humans mating in wolf forms. Their bite ain’t dangerous, they’re like real wolves, just very smart.”
“You don’t know that,” Riddle replied stonily. His voice was cold as ice, and he continued to inspect Harry’s hand, twisting and turning it like it was his own limb. Harry tried to pull away, annoyed, but predictably, Riddle didn’t let him.
“What makes you think they can infect humans?” he asked just to say something. Riddle’s insistence on barging into his personal space and manhandling him was starting to grate on his nerves, although in a strange, awkward way he didn’t know how to deal with.
“No one has determined it for certain. It’s extremely rare for two abominations to reproduce under the full moon and then to leave their bastards behind. How Hagrid continues to find them defies all rules of logic and common sense.”
“Sounds like something you might want to research,” Harry muttered. Riddle sent him a deeply sceptical look, as if he was questioning his sanity. “What? Isn’t it something you’re supposed to be interested in? Werewolves are a part of our society and the way they are treated is disgusting. Anyone who offers them better treatment can get them as allies in—”
No. What was he saying? Or rather, to whom was he saying it?
Harry swallowed the rest of his words, but it was too late, the biggest part of them was out. Riddle’s stare turned calculating, an intrigued gleam lighting it from inside. His hold loosened, and Harry finally managed to get himself free.
He really was an idiot. Sure, he didn’t say anything extraordinary, and Riddle would have arrived at this basic conclusion on his own — Voldemort had. But still… this was something he could say to a friend, a person he trusted, not to Riddle. Never to him. They weren’t a team, and helping him to find more allies was the last thing Harry wanted.
Besides, werewolves deserved better than to be used by someone who didn’t give a damn about them and then discarded — or worse, wiped out of existence. Harry had no idea what Voldemort had been planning to do with them once he got everything he wanted.
Frowning, he knelt next to the cubs and raised his wand again. He had to get that warming charm right.
“That’s what I’m saying!” Hagrid exclaimed. His voice rang with passion. “Werewolves are mistreated. They can be good friends, right, Harry? And the cubs are innocent, they’d never hurt no one.”
Riddle stifled a sigh. He continued to stand next to Harry, monitoring his struggle with the spell. Did he want to make certain that Harry wasn’t going to push his fingers into the werewolves’ mouths? Probably this or something as ridiculous.
Okay, the warming charm. Harry learned how to modify simple spells in one of the books he’d been absorbing lately, and though the theory was surprisingly clear, he had no idea how to voice his intent clearly enough for his magic to listen. A spell that would keep this little shelter warm throughout the winter and early spring without having to be reapplied, which would disappear when the weather got naturally warmer, and which would gain power again when the late autumn came. How on earth could he convey all of this in one simple charm? And how could he know if it worked?    
“Next time, we can go visit the older cubs,” Hagrid was saying. His words were getting increasingly animated. “And the fire crabs, I know where they’re nesting. And I swear I saw the Occamy one day—”
Harry was glad he had his back turned to Hagrid — his face probably reflected the horror he felt at the thought of coming in here again and again in search of the dangerous creatures he was wary of. He loved and missed Hagrid, but there had to be limits to where they went and what they did.
On the other hand… Hagrid was lonely. Would it be so bad to accompany him from time to time?
Riddle’s disgusted snort broke him out of his thoughts. Harry squinted at him from the corner of his eye — surely Riddle couldn’t know what he was thinking? — but it was too late. Riddle was already walking away from him, holding the edge of his robe like he was concerned about getting it dirty.
“I can see that your love for dangerous creatures hasn’t abated since your expulsion, Hagrid,” he said pleasantly. Every warm syllable sounded so artificial that Harry’s jaw ached from how tightly he clenched it. “Tell me, are you still interacting with that Acromantula that killed Myrtle?”
 Harry froze just as Hagrid choked, his excited words dying on his tongue.  
“Aragog… Aragog killed no one,” he muttered. It was difficult to understand him, his voice was thick with emotion. “He ain’t guilty.”  
“I see.”  
That was all Riddle said, but the way he did it left Hagrid with no choice but to reply.
“He didn’t do it!” he insisted, more loudly this time. “He would’ve told me!”
“As a child, have you ever done something bad? Something that you didn’t want your family to know?”
“Riddle,” Harry snapped. He didn’t want to get into it — he just wanted to be done with this stupid spell and go, but he wasn’t going to let Hagrid be brainwashed into believing he killed Myrtle. The audacity of even trying to do it, and to do it here, where Harry could hear them… did Riddle really think he would let this stand?
“I— yeah,” Hagrid threw a lost look at Harry before focusing on Riddle again. “Lots of things.”
“And have you ever lied to cover it up?”
“Riddle,” Harry repeated. He waved his wand at the cubs, directing all his frustration into his spell, but while it clearly worked, it didn’t feel any different from the usual warming charms he’d been using. Maybe it was a little stronger, but it would never hold through the winter, never mind self-regulating its activation and disappearance.   
“Sometimes,” Hagrid muttered.
“Then what makes you think Aragog behaved any differently? He killed the girl and he was scared of your reaction.”
“No!”
Despite the protest, an echo of uncertainty touched this one word, and just like that, Harry knew this battle was lost. Hagrid was gullible enough to fall for Riddle’s manipulation, and Riddle was in the mood to put an effort into it.
 “Think about it,” he said softly. It was difficult to say whether his voice was naturally this compelling or if he was using compulsions deliberately — whatever it was, for a moment, Harry found himself almost lulled by it. “You kept letting it out for some exercise. From around that point, someone started petrifying the students. Then, the attacks escalated, and the girl was found dead. Do Acromantulas have venom?”
“Yeah… in the fangs.”
“In the fangs,” Riddle agreed. “Exactly so. And the venom gets stronger with age. At first, Aragog was too little to kill someone. But you kept caring for him, so he kept growing, and one day, his venom became strong enough to cause Myrtle’s death.”
Did Riddle need to be punched to shut up? Because this was something Harry was more than willing to do. His anger was bubbling on the surface already — one more word, and it would spill over.
“Acromantulas have a natural appetite for human flesh, Hagrid,” Riddle continued silkily, using dejected silence to fill it with more of his bullshit. “Surely you know that. You have always been the best when it came to studying magical creatures. There is no need to deny it now that Aragog is out of danger — I would never tell where you are hiding it.”
Outrage broke through. Harry lurched to his feet, throwing the last warming charm at the cubs and marching towards Riddle and Hagrid, almost shaking with fury. He had no idea what he was going to say, but letting Riddle fill Hagrid’s head with rubbish, make him feel guilty for something he didn’t do—
Apparently, Harry’s approach was also a part of Riddle’s plan because when he reached them, Riddle wrapped a possessive hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close as if he always intended to do so and effectively rendering him speechless.
“I would never tell where you are hiding Aragog,” he repeated to Hagrid, “but only if you convince me that you’ve learned your lesson. Your unique talents allow you to interact with all these creatures unharmed, but as you can see, the same cannot be said about other students. Your actions have already led to the death of one of them — would you really like to repeat this experience? With Harry, of all people?”
“No,” Hagrid breathed out. His eyes were brimming with tears, and this was enough to break Harry from under whatever spell Riddle had put on him — again.
Using his position, he pressed his wand to Riddle’s wrist and burned it with a stinging jinx. Riddle must have failed to see it coming because he jerked away abruptly, releasing Harry from his hold and sending him an incredulous look.
Very soon, his astonishment gave way to malice. Riddle narrowed his eyes, and Harry’s heart jerked from the cold, calculating stare he received. He glared back, crossing his arms and stepping away at the safer distance.
“Don’t listen to him, Hagrid,” he said. “It’s not—”
“What?” Riddle asked coolly. He rubbed his wrist, not taking his eyes off Harry, maintaining the strangest balance between an innocent expression and a hard, dark look. “Do you believe that all these pets are harmless? Were you not almost bitten by a cub of a werewolf five minutes ago without knowing if their bite was infectious? Are you saying you are ready to get acquainted with them all?”   
The urgent need to protect Hagrid and to do something to wipe this expression of distress and heartbreak off his face nearly made Harry blurt out an agreement, but another part, probably a saner one, prevailed for a change.
Even as an adult, Hagrid could never tell the difference between safe and dangerous creatures. Aragog might have been innocent of Myrtle’s murder, but he did eat humans, and he probably would have started doing it at Hogwarts sooner or later if he hadn’t been forced to flee.
Apart from putting the blame for Myrtle’s death on Hagrid, Riddle was right. And Harry had no idea how to convince Hagrid he hadn’t killed anyone without nullifying the sobering impact of this idea.   
He could really do without all these dilemmas Riddle had been creating for him recently.
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arealphrooblem · 1 year
Note
Hi!! First off I just want to say that this is my new favorite writing blog on tumblr!! I'm so grateful for whatever strings the universe pulled that led me here. I'm literally addicted to every single thing you've written here. I swear I've read Mutually Assured Destruction like ten times within the past 24 hours.
I was wondering, if you find the free time and the inspiration, if you could write a villain x medic/civilian snippet? Maybe Medic accidentally witnessed villain's crime so villain can't let them just wander around freely since medic works for the hero agency, but also doesn't want to kill medic since medic is useful?
Thank you so much! I've always loved the idea of Villain x Medic so here you go!
CW: Kidnapping
“You know my face.”
The medic knew this day would come. Still, they froze in the doorway of the living room, keys dangling in their hands, blood frosting over in sheer dread. The villain sat with their legs crossed in the medic’s favorite armchair, the fire place unlit. The room in semi-darkness, the only light a glow from a street-lamp.
They didn’t ask how the villain knew their address. They should have taken Hero’s offer to leave under witness protection, but their whole life was built here. They couldn’t just leave and start over.
“I haven’t revealed it,” the medic said.
“Yet,” the villain amended. “I’m sure you would for the right price. Or under the right pressure.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I don’t. But I am not going to risk it.”
The lamp beside the couch switched on. The medic flinched away from the sight, eyes trained on the coat rack by the door. As if mattered anymore if they saw the villain’s face again. As if they hadn’t doomed themselves the first time.
Footsteps creaked over the old wood floors. The medic took slow deep breaths, holding it for four counts and releasing it. A trick they had taught people afraid of IV needles to calm their racing heart.
The time to run had long since passed. And even if it hadn’t, the villain most definitely had people outside lying in wait for such an escape.
Hands that tipped the medic’s chin to meet that dangerous gaze.
“You’re going to kill me,” the medic said. It was not a question.
An eyebrow raised. “You sound very calm about that.”
“My career has taught me how to recognize and accept things that aren’t in my control. Right now there is nothing I can do to stop you.”
“This is true.”
The villain studied them, thumb brushing absently against the curve of their bottom lip.  The darkness of their eyes felt unfathomable, like the Marianas Trench. Like the deepest part of the ocean, full of wonder and terror.
“I am not going to kill you,” the villain said finally. “I owe you my life. And I always repay my debts. But you know my face.”
The medic swallowed thickly against the barrage of options that opened up. The villain could blind them, torture them into insanity, cut out their tongue. All of the above. The villain’s hand slips across their cheek to cup the back of the medic’s head. A possessive gesture, they noted with a shiver.
“You are coming with me. Whether it be conscious or unconscious, I leave up to your . . . control.”
Relief warred with new fear. “Where are you taking me?” they asked.  “What happens to me when we get there?”
“Questions I will happily answer in the car,” said the villain, their hand sliding down the medic’s 
neck before retreating. “Hand me your phone and your keys and then go pack your things. You have ten minutes.”
The medic stood rooted to the spot. This was real, this was happening. And it yet it still felt like a bad dream. Ten minutes to pack their life up? Ten minutes?
“Tick tock, darling,” crooned the villain, holding their hand out.
Numbly, the medic dropped their phone and keys into the villain's hand and took robotic steps towards their bedroom. Clothes were easy to grab and stuff into the suitcase. As were their birth certificate and other identity papers. Personal items, less so. Medic spent precious minutes at their bookshelf, picking a well thumbed classic from their childhood, their most referenced medical texts, and a novel they hadn’t started yet.
The pressure of time throbbed in the back of their head, making it difficult to think rationally about what they needed. They ducked into the bathroom, grabbing their contact case and solution, their toothbrush. Then they stood in the middle of their bedroom, frantically trying to think of what they couldn’t live without.
“Times up.”
The villain’s voice came from behind, causing the medic to jump out of their skin.
“Zip it up and let’s go.”
The villain’s car lay hidden in the shadows of the back alley. A dangerous looking driver waiting for them, their cigarette glow the only light. The villain opened the backseat of the car for Medic with a mocking flourish.
It was their last opportunity to run, but the medic knew a shot in the back waited for them if they tried it. So, dread sitting heavy in their stomach, they climbed in. The villain took the seat next to them, giving out curt orders to the driver in a language the medic didn’t recognize.
 The nagging horror that the medic forgot something important haunted them. They leaned their head against the window, mentally walking through their house, trying to remember. But the fear churning in their blood made it so difficult.
“I’m taking you to my compound,” said the villain, almost conversationally. As if detailing the itinerary for a date. “I have a room set up for you, as well as a med bay. You can resume your work taking care of my mercenaries.”
The medic listened with half an ear, watching the wave of street lamps pass them by. What were they missing?
“No objections to that?” the villain asked, bemused.
They passed a park, one the medic had many birthday parties in as a child, and the sudden zing of memory made them gasp.
“Stop! We have to go back!” they cried.
The driver didn’t so much as flinch.
“Go back?" The villain laughed. "Too late for that, doctor. You should have protested before you climbed into this car."
"I forgot something!"
"Whatever it is can be replaced," the villain said with a dismissive wave of their hand. 
"It's not replaceable. Please."
Desperation clawed at their throat but the villain remained unmoved.
"If it were so important, one would think it would be the first thing you packed, not the first thing you forgot. You will have to learn to live without it."
The medic closed their eyes the rest of the journey. They couldn't bear to look at Villain's face.
"Do you regret it?"
The villain sat upon the examination bed, looking almost innocent.
It had been a week since the medic was taken. Their life had changed so drastically that the normality of the med bay, of the tools they had spent years around, clanged like a discordant note. They threw themselves into their work, demanding physicals for the Villain's mercenaries to establish a baseline of health. These people, so used to sewing their own wounds, grew awkward around the medic’s soft and attentive care. Some refused to come. 
The villain showed up last, a new laceration on their ribs. They sat, spine straight and unflinching as medic carefully cleaned the wound and bandaged it. 
"Regret what?" the medic asked. 
" . . .Saving my life."
Their hands stilled for a moment, hovering over the wound. It was a tricky question and the medic wasn't sure how to answer it honestly. 
"I would have regretted the person that I'd become if I had let you die," they said finally. 
"Oh? Most people would consider it a net positive, preventing all my future damage."
"It's not up to me to decide who deserves to live and who doesn't."
"I beg to differ. You hold people's lives in your hands every day. Who else, if not you?"
The medic glanced up at the villain, who stared at them with open-faced fascination, rather than the usual dispassion. 
"I don't think any one person should have that power," they said pointedly. 
The villain smiled, a slow curving movement. "A pity. You could be terrifying indeed."
The medic swallowed something strange dancing in their gut. "You're lucky I'm not." 
"Indeed I am."
They finished the examination without further conversation. The villain watched with quiet fascination as the medic sterilized their tools, folded unused bandages away, updated the Villain's medical records. 
"What did you leave behind?" they asked softly. 
"My life," the medic said, tersely, as they tapped on the keyboard. 
The villain was undeterred. "What did you remember in the car?"
The medic paused at that, unsure if they should answer. They didn't want the villain's mockery over it. But lies rarely went over well with the villain -- the medic had cleaned up the wounds left behind from that. 
"A box under my bed," they replied, keeping their eyes locked on the computer. "It had my keepsakes in it. Family photos, birthday cards, that sort of thing."
"Sentiment," the villain said skeptically. "That's what got you so worked up?"
"I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand," they snapped, standing up. 
The villain watched them leave and the medic felt their gaze like a laser all the way down the hall. 
Two days later a painfully familiar box sat on the examination table. Scribbled in sharpie on the cardboard was a message: 
I do understand. 
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exhuastedpigeon · 4 months
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Fuck it Friday
Whoa baby, it has been a few weeks since I shared anything I've written. Not going to lie, real life has been busy, but on top of that I mostly haven't been super inspired to write lately because some parts of the fandom are/were, frankly, exhausting. So I took a step back like the adult I am and was focusing on some real life projects.
Anyway! Here's a snippet from a longer Buddie fic I'm working on. Not going to share too much from this fic since I don't want to spoil it :) just know it was inspired by seeing the pictures of the Diaz parents, Buck, Eddie, and Chris all at the hospital.
It isn’t Buck who finds Eddie, which is maybe for the best because Buck is pretty sure if he’d been the one to find Eddie he would have forgotten all of the important life-saving skills he knows and instead would have lost his mind. By the time Buck makes it to Eddie, the paramedics from the 133 are administering care and it takes both Bobby and Hen to hold him back. “There’s nothing more we can do,” Hen says as Buck’s knees give out from under him. “We need to let them work and get him to the hospital.” Eddie looks dead. He looks broken. He looks like that because he felt the floor starting to go and he pushed Buck to safety instead of trying to save himself.  “He’s alive,” Chimney appears out of nowhere, or maybe he’d been there all along and Buck had been so lost in watching them carefully transfer Eddie onto a backboard that he hadn’t noticed him. “Unconscious but breathing.” “What hospital?” Hen asks the question that Buck can’t seem to get out.  “Cedars.” “We’ll go back to the station to change and then I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Bobby says, leaving no room for argument. 
tagged by @cal-daisies-and-briars @tizniz
no pressure tagging @daffi-990 @sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @neverevan @jeeyuns
@inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @actualalligator @acountrygirlsfun @thekristen999
@jesuisici33 @wikiangela @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @butchdiaz
@honestlydarkprincess @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @ronordmann @eddiebabygirldiaz
@elvensorceress @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @shipperqueen6 @loveyouanyway
@sibylsleaves @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @ladydorian05
@underwaterninja13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @911-on-abc @epicbuddieficrecs @bi-buckrights
@spotsandsocks @fortheloveofbuddie @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @wildlife4life
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angrybathbomb · 5 months
Text
TOUCHSTARVED FANFIC
“Are you two a couple?”
  MODERN AU
Touchstarved LI x gn! Reader
  SUMMARY: On a coffee date with each ts LIs, both of you are stopped by what one can assume a street interviewer/youtuber who seems to be quite eager on talking to couples. What do our lovely LIs have to say?
WARNINGS:  None tbh, fluff, slightly suggestive joke cracked once but it’s just implied and said as a joke/banter nothing explicit, Ais calls you sparrow and says one of his signature line he said in the demo (will be in italics).
NOTE:  This is my first time writing a fanfic, please go easy on me if I made some mistakes as I am still learning. Constructive criticism and tips to improve are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading!
(also y/n == your name)
INSPO: I saw a YouTube channel (meetcutenyc) and felt like writing this for our lovely ts LIs!
WORD COUNT: <1.5K
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-PROLOGUE-
Strolling leisurely down the bustling streets for a cozy, romantic coffee date, fingers entwined, greedily savored each other’s warmth. Each step the two of you took, resonated with a rhythm on the footpath that stretched ahead in the bustling cityscape. Amidst the bustling chaos of the city, snippets of conversations floating around and the distant hum of traffic, a comfortable silence stretched between the two of you with occasional exchange of shy yet mischievous glances and tender smiles.
However, the romantic stroll came to an abrupt halt when a young guy holding a camera, most likely recording, blocked the path ahead of you two.
“Sorry to interrupt, but are you two a couple?”, he inquired with a friendly smile. His eyes, subtly reflecting guilt, silently apologized for the sudden intrusion.
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AIS
LEANDER
VERE
MHIN
KURAS
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      AIS
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Ais regards the guy with a cold look as he answers his question with a terse nod as he pulls you closer to him, his hand wrapping around your waist protectively which was interwoven with your fingers so lovingly just a moment prior to this, a stark contrast to the possessive hold he has now.
“Do you need something?”, he adds with a callous tone, his impatience evident. “We have somewhere to be,” he finishes as he guides you behind him, shielding you from the camera.
Sensing his defensive demeanor, princess begins to growl at the stranger. Her instincts kick in, mirroring Ais’s protective stance towards you.
The stranger, noticing the tension in the air, quickly raises one hand above his head in a gesture of surrender. He begins, “I just wanted to ask,” his tone sincere,” Would you mind sharing the story of how you two first met?”, his voice carries a curious yet respectful tone.
Ais, sensing no immediate threat, whistles lowly, a familiar command for Princess to calm down. Obedient to his command, she relents, but remains watchful as she settles between the two of you. 
Ais exchanges a brief glance with you, you nod slightly signaling your willingness to share a part of your history with him. He smiles softly as he turns his gaze to the stranger,” It’s a long story,” his tone softening ever so slightly, “But I suppose we have a moment.”
The stranger beams with delight,” And I have all the time in the world!”, he reassures, grateful to have a story to share with his viewers.
You laugh quietly touched by such an innocent remark and quite frankly amazed at how eager he appears. A surge of shyness envelops you as memories of your first encounter with Ais floods your mind.
“You want my version or his?” you ask, offering the stranger a friendly smile as you lean into Ais’s warmth, he squeezes your hips in response, his hold on you not budging one bit.
“Both of yours!”, the stranger chirps up with childlike glee. A teasing smile plays on Ais’s lips, “How about you go first, hm Sparrow?”
“How kind of you,” you roll your eyes, all too aware of the mirth swimming in his crimson gaze. You shift your attention towards the stranger, your eyes alight with memories as you begin recounting the story, “I was wandering down the aisles of what used to be a Public Library, known as ‘The Senobium’, quite renowned for its vast collection of books, holding knowledge on the most bizarre subject imaginable. If any place held answers, it was the Senobium.” You continue your ramble as Ais listens patiently, silently admiring you, a fond smile adorning his sharp features.
“I was specifically looking and gathering books to research about this conspiracy theory floating around the internet that had caught my attention – The Groupminds”, you continue painting a vivid imagery of the fateful day to the eagerly listening stranger ,”Amidst the pile of books I had in my hand, more than I could possibly handle, my line of vision was blocked and I was trudging ahead, one step at a time, until I collided with this gentleman over here,” you gesture towards Ais , impishness painted all over your face.
“It felt straight out of a classical romantic movie,” you recall with a bashful smile as your gaze meets Ais’s, who responds with a playful wink and a fanged grin. “The next instant, all the books slip from my grasp, and I am stumbling backwards, teetering on the brink of hitting the cold hard floor. That is until, a warm hand catches my lower back and guides me back up to my feet effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing,”
“As I recover from the shock, I shift my gaze to take a better look at my saviour,” you pause, studying Ais for a moment before continuing,” there he stands before me, radiating an air of self-assuredness.” Your lips curve into a wry smile, “I say my thanks, anticipating a courteous ‘you’re welcome’ but instead, this bastard has the gall to quip back, ‘Watch your step, Sparrow,’ his words dripping with smug satisfaction, as though reveling in my plight.”
You pout playfully,” Thanks to his good looks, I let it slide. My hands were itching to leave a red imprint on that stupid handsome face,” you confess, your cheeks flush a deep red. Ais, not missing a beat, retorts with a smirk,” But you just did last night,” he teased with a suggestive glance, a coy smile dancing on his lips.
“Have some shame,” you roll your eyes, swatting his chest playfully. “What's that?”, he feigns oblivion, secretly relishing the sight of your embarrassment.
The stranger smiles at the shared mischief between them before turning to Ais, “What about you Sir? What’s your version of the story?”, curiosity evident in his tone.
Ais considers you for a moment, fondness evident in his scarlet orbs, before he addresses the stranger,” Let’s just say their version conveniently leaves out the part where they nearly caused a book avalanche in the middle of the library.”
You merely roll your eyes at his playful jab,” Perhaps you could have watched your step and not get in my way,” you fix him with an accusatory look,” All of it seemed as if it was planned all along.”
“Took you long enough to figure out,” responds Ais with a devilish smirk.
The stranger chuckles in amusement at the light-hearted banter between the two lovebirds before he interjects with his next question,” Could you two share your first impressions of each other?”
“First impression, huh?”, you paused for a moment, adopting a deadpan expression, before replying, “Bastard.” Your blunt response elicits a roar of laughter from both men.
“You wound me Sparrow,” Ais remarks, his six- foot frame shook with mirth. Before he answers for himself, he grins and teases,” Ah yes, I remember thinking, ‘Is this sparrow lost, or did the sky misplace its most charming songbird?’ Thankfully, they landed right here.”
“That’s the biggest load of nonsense I’ve ever heard,” you retort with an unimpressed look, eyebrows raised in mock indignation. Ais leans in to press a firm kiss to your forehead, unfazed by your tough facade.
“Mouth off all you want, I happen to like your shitty attitude,” he says affectionately while you remain stoic to appear indifferent to his tender gaze, but the telltale blush creeping onto your cheeks gives you away.
“Any tips you would like to give to a new couple?”, the stranger poses his final question.
Ais smiles sincerely, his gaze thoughtful as he offers his advice,” Be honest and real. The right person will love you for who you really are,” he says as a matter of fact, looking at you for a moment.
You nod in agreement before adding your own perspective,” If you have to pretend to be someone else, even with your lover, well, how long can that last?” you continue with an earnest expression,” If you and your partner cannot accept each other’s worst, you have no right to enjoy each other’s best either. Putting up an act doesn’t work in the long run.” you finish, a kind smile gracing your lips.
“Thank you so much! You make such a lovely couple,” the stranger remarks warmly before asking, “May I ask your names?’
“(y/n)”, you introduce yourself with a warm smile. “Ais”, he follows suit.
“(y/n) and Ais,” the stranger repeats the names, the syllables harmonizing so well, their love seems destined.
“Thank you for your time! Good day!”, the stranger expresses his gratitude as they prepare to part ways.
“No worries, it was lovely talking to you.”, you respond with a sweet smile, eyes reflecting genuine warmth. Ais offers a nonchalant wave as a farewell, but the content smile etched on his face betrays his enjoyment of the conversation.
Together with Princess, both of you set off on your way to your long-awaited coffee date, the air around both of you filled with sweet anticipation.
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End note: Tell me about your thoughts in the comments! I will be writing for other LIs soon! Thank you for reading my work 😊
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