#nvm not saying it it sounds wrong in my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beauiestars · 3 days ago

Text

OBI-WAN KENOBI - Scars of Age

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader {PART FIFTEEN}

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: Slow burn, pining, source material inaccuracies, medical inaccuracies, semi-graphic violence, minor character death, semi-graphic blood/injury, vomiting (not explicit or recurring), moral dilemmas, betrayal…

Beau's Note: Writing new chapters is all fun and games until I realise I have to update all of my warnings --- nvm it didn't take that long!

Summary: They say time heals all wounds. But with the forces of the universe tearing them apart, can two childhood best friends rediscover their connection and find solace in each other once more?

Y/n.

Your entire body shivered and trembled, wracked by a fever that burned through you like fire in your veins. Curled on the cold floor, you found no relief—only the sharp contrast between your searing skin and the unyielding surface beneath you. Consciousness slipped in and out, your vision swimming in a haze of rippling blurs.

You toyed with the notion that you might be dead—until the stench of rot invaded your nostrils, thick and real. It coiled in your throat, choking you, but there was no clean air to grasp at. Your limbs had locked up from stillness, muscles stiff and sore, while your wounds throbbed in slow, aching pulses.

You lifted a trembling hand—bloodied, dirt-caked—and held it before your eyes. Counting your fingers was a struggle; your mind reeled as the doubled image wavered. The nausea swelled.

Your head slumped forward, and when your eyes cracked open again, sound reverberated through your skull. You weren't sure whether it had been seconds or days. The concept of time was lost on you.

Nobody is coming.

The voice slithered through your mind, hollow and distant, setting off dulled alarm bells. Your reactions had slowed—too slow. Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself upright, agony sparking through every nerve as you pressed your back to the wall.

As your eyes finally peeled open again, the room was no longer the same. Glancing around, you were no longer surrounded by impenetrable darkness. Instead you were sitting in an office you didn't recognise. With effort, you pushed yourself upright, wincing as stiff limbs protested the movement. Each step toward the window sent another sharp pulse through your body, but you pressed on.

The view outside was fractured—an unstable image, blurring and flickering as though projected onto a faulty screen. Buildings stretched and warped, shifting like an illusion on the verge of collapse.

The door creaked open behind you, and you snapped around, your vision blurring as you focused on the figure that stood in the doorway—hooded, familiar. "You," you rasped, every word a struggle, as if your throat had been scorched like the dunes of Tatooine. Sidious didn’t meet your gaze. He advanced with deliberate slowness, his presence suffocating, while his pale eyes darted toward the window beside you.

"Your mind is weakened, young one. It's struggling to fill in the blanks," he said. It was strange hearing him so close, his voice less overwhelming than when it echoed in your mind. "You must be angry."

You inhaled sharply, composing yourself. "Angry at what?" There was no shortage of reasons, but you wanted him to say it, to define your rage for you.

"The Jedi don't care who lives or dies, as long as they maintain their false sense of justice," Sidious replied, his tone unbothered. He clasped his hands behind his back, speaking with clinical detachment. "You are enslaved by their code. Give me your loyalty, and I shall set you free."

You rested your elbows on the ledge, your face sinking into your palms. His words tugged at you, sowing doubt, twisting your very beliefs. It was dangerous how easily they took root, how they made you question everything. But his logic—was it wrong? If joining him was truly an evil choice, why did his words resonate so completely?

It was clear now—the seed had been planted. Sidious had burrowed into your mind, sowing desires you hadn't known existed. Once, the thought of taking a life had caused your stomach to twist in disgust. But at the next opportunity, when you swung your saber, there was no hesitation. You were complicit in a massacre. And you hadn't flinched.

There was a dark exhilaration to it—a rush of power. The feeling of strength, of being untouchable. You had never felt this alive, not even when you were a puppet dancing to the Jedi council’s tune. They had never granted you this freedom, this assurance. You were a force of nature bound only by their rules and expectations.

Sidious let out a sudden, barking laugh beside you. Startled, you glanced up at the man. Although his robes obscured his features, a vicious grin stretched across his wrinkled face.

"It felt good, did it not? The thrill of it. You felt no guilt because those men were not innocent. You saw what they did to that little girl."

Your heart lurched, and your fist clenched at your side.

"It isn't the Jedi way," you murmured, though the words felt foreign on your tongue—as if spoken by someone else. Your convictions had crumbled. "But it felt good."

"The Jedi seek to control you, but because you refuse to be disciplined, they fear you’ll be disloyal. You feel it, don’t you? Your masters, waiting for the chance to force you into submission. Do not let them tame your fire, young one."

Sidious' voice boomed through the enclosed space, each iteration of his words tightening their grip on you, swaying you further.

"If I were to join you," you said, your voice quieter than before. "Would I serve you? Would I be trading one tyrannical master for another?"

"Not quite."

You watched him warily, searching for deception in the shadows of his hood.

"You would be my apprentice. And I—more like a teacher—would show you how to harness all of your hate and anger into power. With the dark side, you will find victory, glory, and strength beyond your imagination."

Victory. Glory. Power. The words coiled through your mind, igniting something deep within you. Your stomach churned—not with dread, but with desire. The loyalty you had once clung to, the weight of the Jedi’s expectations, had been stripped from you piece by piece. You had all but succumbed to the dark seduction of the Sith.

"Where would I find you?" you asked, though the question felt strange on your tongue. "I've suspected, ever since that day on Tatooine, that you've been nothing more than a figment of my imagination—a personification of my doubts. But that isn’t the truth, is it?"

Sidious hummed, tilting his head ever so slightly in contemplation.

"I will find you. So long as you let me."

His words filled you with something unfamiliar—not dread, nor fear, but the stirring of something new. A promise. A certainty. There was no return to the Jedi now. No redemption. His presence, his persuasion, had solidified that fact.

You turned your gaze to the window. The fractured cityscape was gone. In its place stretched an endless expanse of the galaxy—star systems and nebulae glistening in the void. You had always felt small beneath their vastness. Insignificant. But now, Sidious’ words made you feel as though you could reach out and take it all. Conquer it all.

Then—silence. A terrible, suffocating silence.

You turned sharply, but the Sith Lord was gone. And as if pulled away like a veil, the office melted into nothingness. The illusion shattered.

Your mind reeled, grasping for a sense of place, but there was none. Only pain. It crashed into you like a tidal wave, your fever roaring back to life. You hadn’t even realised it had dulled, faded into the background of your conversation—but now, it consumed you.

It was all too much—but you were awake. For now.

Something skittered across your face, tiny legs brushing against your skin. You swatted at it sluggishly, your limbs slow, uncooperative. A distant buzzing caught your attention, an eerie drone that sent a shiver down your spine. Forcing your eyes open, you blinked through the haze of exhaustion—then froze.

The huddled, cocooned form of your friend was swarming with insects.

A choked gasp escaped you. Bile burned at the back of your throat, the sour taste of nausea rising fast. You gagged, chest heaving, but forced it down. Not now. Focus.

Suppressing your horror, you dragged your limp body across the floor, each movement an agonising battle. You tried not to breathe too deeply, afraid of what you might inhale. The scent of decay clung to the air, thick and putrid.

You reached out, arms trembling with exertion, and waved frantically at the writhing mass. Your muscles screamed in protest, but it worked—the creatures scattered, vanishing into the darkness.

A ragged sob wrenched itself from your throat, and the effort sent you collapsing back onto the ground. Your body refused to move. Your vision blurred.

Your eyes fluttered shut, no longer able to fight it.

***

The Jedi took far too long to respond to your distress signal. They scrambled to assemble a team, urgency battling against the methodical nature of their process. At the centre of it all was Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had been the one to receive your message, and after days of unease—haunted by a distressing dream that refused to leave him—he had been searching relentlessly for any sign of your return.

But the signal contained no other information. No coordinates. No voice. Only silence, empty and ominous. A pit formed in his stomach, heavy with dread. You were in danger. He knew it with unwavering certainty. That alone was enough to send him barrelling out of the communications room, issuing orders with a rare urgency that sent people into motion.

When Obi-Wan Kenobi broke his typical calm, meditative demeanour, people tended to listen.

Once the extraction team gathered their bearings, they set off immediately. But uncertainty loomed over them—how long had the signal taken to reach them? Where exactly on the planet had it come from? Every moment spent in speculation was a moment wasted.

Locating your ship proved just as difficult. The jungle had reclaimed it, vines constricting the hull like a vice. The ship had become part of the landscape, buried beneath layers of thick, twisted plant life. But the Jedi wasted no time. Igniting their sabers, they cut through the overgrowth, turning vegetation into ash as they forced their way inside.

They moved through the darkened corridors, their blades casting eerie beams of light that danced along the walls. No one knew what to expect. No one dared to voice their fears.

But even in their worst imaginings, they had not anticipated the sheer horror awaiting them in the cockpit.

You weren’t conscious when they arrived.

The younger Jedi was obviously dead—you had spent hours, between bouts of unconsciousness, desperately swatting flies away from the body. But it had been a losing battle.

Obi-Wan was at your side in an instant, his hands trembling as he checked your pulse, his eyes scanning your injuries with barely contained dread. He had seen you wounded before, but never like this.

Your pulse was weak, fluttering beneath his fingers like a dying ember. Nearly all of your wounds were red, raw, and festering with infection. There was so much blood. It streaked the walls where you had dragged yourself, smeared across the floor in long, dark trails—evidence of your struggle. And it wasn’t just your blood.

The other Jedi worked quickly. The cadaver was loaded into a containment pod, while you were carefully placed on a stretcher—though Obi-Wan allowed no one else to carry you. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a quiet fury simmering beneath his grief.

Your infected wounds would be treated in the temple’s medical bay, but there was little certainty about the extent of the damage. What they could salvage from your ship, they did—though in the end, it was decided to leave the wreck behind.

As the pilot routed the course for Coruscant, the ship hummed softly, engines lifting it from the cursed ground. But within the cabin, there was only silence. The other Jedi sat motionless, staring into the endless void of hyperspace.

No one spoke of what they had seen.

No one spoke of what would happen when they returned.

Obi-Wan stayed by your side.

Your body felt foreign to you, disjointed, as your blurred vision struggled to make sense of the figure beside you. His voice reached you, but it was muffled, distorted—as if you were submerged underwater. Obi-Wan could see your eyes weren’t fully closed, but they were bloodshot and watery, fighting to stay open.

The final stretch of the journey back to the Jedi Temple felt both instantaneous and eternal. Your mind, numb from pain and exhaustion, couldn’t mark the passage of time. At some point, Obi-Wan had left your side, but you hadn’t noticed, trapped as you were in the haze of your own delirium.

In fleeting moments of lucidity, Coruscant loomed before you—its sprawling cityscape shimmering like a distant constellation. The place you once called home now felt like a strange, cold expanse. The city lights twinkled, indifferent to your return. There was no comfort in the sight of it, only the stark realisation that the world you had known was gone. The gleaming towers and endless sky lanes felt unfamiliar, even alien.

The serene silence of the Jedi Temple contrasted sharply with the chaos you had just survived. As you were carried through the corridors, the murmurs of the Temple’s inhabitants fell into a hush, their eyes turning toward you. Their gazes shifted from shock to concern, but none dared approach.

Not with the look on Obi-Wan’s face. Never had he appeared so gravely burdened. His frown was deep enough to make him seem years older, and his eyes never once drifted down to you. His face was a mask of barely contained worry and resolve, but it was clear: this was not a sight he was prepared for.

You were a ruin. Blood, sweat, and dirt clung to your skin, streaked with unnatural hues from the alien flora that had stained you. Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, exposing a deep, angry gash that pulsed with each beat of your heart. Dark bruises marred your jaw and neck, a sickly purple-black. The blood on your lips had dried, forming cracked, flaky lines.

You looked like you had crawled out of hell. In a way, you had.

Your half-lidded eyes stared at the ceiling above, vacant and glassy, betraying none of the storm brewing inside. Grief, rage, exhaustion—a maelstrom too overwhelming to process. So, you didn’t try. You simply let the tide pull you along.

The Temple corridors blurred past you, each step a blur. Your chest heaved with shallow breaths, and the pain—the deep ache in your arm, the throbbing bruises, the sickly scent of blood—all of it faded into the background, drowned by the fog in your mind.

You’d blink, and suddenly, you were in a different part of the Temple. The voices, the movement, all became distant as you approached the medical bay. Frantic whispers and hurried arguments flickered in your fading consciousness, but you were soon left in the hands of the medics.

They tended to the most severe of your wounds—and did so swiftly—but they were cautious not to overwhelm your body with too many procedures all at once. As a blurry figure approached to check your heart rate, you gathered the strength you had left and reached out, grasping at their sleeve.

A muffled gasp escaped their lips. "I think she's awake," they said, their voices fuzzy, like distant sounds muffled through a thick wall.

You croaked in response. Your trembling fingers tapped weakly at your throat. The person beside you hesitated, then carefully poured water into your mouth. You swallowed gratefully, though it made you feel small and helpless. You tried to speak, to ask for something more, but the effort left you with nothing but a hoarse whimper.

You wiped your arms using your hands, a feeble attempt to show them what you needed. Things were beginning to clear up a little now. You might’ve passed out a few more times while trying to convey your need, but the person watched you carefully, slowly grasping your meaning.

"Ah, of course. I hadn't even considered..." Her voice trailed off. You weren't sure what happened after that. You felt yourself being gently lifted, one body under each arm, guiding you towards the bathroom. She left the door slightly ajar, giving you some semblance of privacy, but not enough to feel fully alone.

You stripped off your bloodstained rags, throwing them into a heap in the corner of the room. Those clothes had clung to you for days—heavy, suffocating, sticky with sweat and the weight of memories. Days... how many days had it been?

The spores. The memory surged back—their sickly, sweet scent, the way they filled your lungs and dragged you into that endless darkness. You'd been unconscious for nearly two days. Long enough for Juna's body to grow cold. Long enough for decay to set in. The gruesome imagery flashed in your mind, vivid and grotesque, making your body shiver uncontrollably. You hugged your arms to yourself, trying desperately to shake away the horrors that clung to you.

Your legs trembled as you climbed into the shower, and you quickly sank to the ground, using the pristine tiled wall to lower yourself carefully.

You watched as the water pooled around you, swirling red-tinged streaks down the drain. It should’ve felt like a release, a cleansing, but instead, it only reminded you. You sat hunched on the shower floor, knees pulled tight to your chest. The water pounded against your back, but the sound fell flat, like it couldn’t reach you.

No matter how hard you scrubbed at your skin, you didn’t feel clean. The scalding water cascaded over you, fogging the small space with steam, but it did nothing to wash away the grime caked onto you. Dried blood had buried itself beneath your fingernails, stubborn and impenetrable, no matter how much you scrubbed. Frustration built up inside you, and you cut your nails down to the quick, leaving jagged edges that stung with the exposed, tender skin.

The grime melted away, swirling with the blood, before disappearing down the drain. And with it, the last traces of Juna—those fragments of her that had lingered on your skin—slipped away. You scrubbed harder, your hands raw, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You felt empty. Drained. The person you used to be was slipping through your fingers, fracturing like a shattered mirror. The reflection in the broken pieces wasn’t someone you recognised. You were trapped between who you had once been and the shell of a person curled up on the cold tiles, gasping for air.

When the water finally ran clear, you forced yourself to move. Your limbs trembled in protest as you peeled yourself from the floor, wrapping a towel around your body. You dried off slowly, methodically, as if the simple act of drying your skin might anchor you to the present, to something solid. You slipped into fresh clothes—soft, loose, and clean against your skin—that someone must have placed there while you were being carried in.

Your feet dragged as you stumbled back to the hospital bed, the woman from earlier following closely behind, ready to catch you if you fell. Sleep called to you like an oasis in a desert, but you knew it wouldn’t offer peace. You collapsed onto the mattress, the clean sheets foreign against your battered frame. Sleep was not an escape—it was a battleground. Nightmares came as they always did—vivid, merciless, clawing at your subconscious. But even that was preferable to being awake. Awake meant remembering. And you weren’t ready to face that yet.

You pulled the blanket tighter around you, clinging to the fragile semblance of safety. For now, sleep was all you could manage, however fleeting or fractured it might be.

***

You woke in the early afternoon, a dull ache in your body reminding you that you were alive. The sensation was surreal, almost impossible to grasp. With a shaky hand, you pressed your fingertip into the pulsing gash on your arm. The wound no longer seemed as daunting as it had when you were covered in blood, but you still hissed at the sharp sting.

Your only plan for the day was simple: patch up the remaining wounds, then crawl back to your bed away from the sterile, claustrophobic confines of the infirmary.

The medics who’d attended to you the previous night had done a miraculous job. Your body, stubborn and resilient, had healed quite a few of the injuries on its own before they had even gotten to you. Your fever had broken since returning to the temple, and you felt better than you probably should, considering how you had looked just hours ago.

Even so, every movement felt deliberate, like you had to coach your body into doing what it once did instinctively. You moved stiffly, struggling to make your motions appear natural. You were like a spluttering machine as you donned fresh clothing, each tug of fabric feeling forced and irregular. You tried to make yourself look presentable, but your body betrayed you: black and blue bruises marred your skin, gashes crisscrossed over your limbs, and old scars stood out like they had only just been made.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you expected the infirmary to be quiet and empty, but it wasn’t. As you stepped deeper into the space, you realised the one person you had hoped to avoid was still here.

As if sensing your presence, his gaze shifted toward you. The silence that followed was deafening as his eyes locked onto yours. You expected him to speak, to shout, or maybe pretend he hadn’t seen you. But instead, nobody said a word.

Your breath stilled in your throat.

You padded over to the drawers full of medical supplies, and with the somewhat adequate knowledge you’d gained from your medical training, you started pulling out what you needed to patch up the wounds you could see. The rest—those that were hidden from view—were problems for another time.

Obi-Wan’s eyes didn’t leave you, burning into the back of your head. You fought every natural instinct in your body and tried your hardest to ignore him.

You hopped up onto one of the beds, carefully setting out the supplies beside you and preparing the antiseptics. You shrugged off your outer robe and rolled up your shirtsleeve. Glancing up at Obi-Wan once, you caught him still watching, his gaze unrelenting.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence, and his expression softened, like he’d finally remembered why he was there. He picked up a small first aid kit and tucked it into one of the deeper pockets of his robe.

You poured antiseptic onto a cotton pad, though some of the liquid missed and dripped down your wrist. You grimaced as you gently patted the wound on your arm—it had looked far worse when you were covered in blood, but it still stung like hell. The wound had needed more cleaning than you’d managed in the shower, but as you wiped at the scabbed flesh, you realised the injury was deeper than you’d initially thought.

“You need stitches,” Obi-Wan spoke up, his tone calm but firm. You bit the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to argue, but you dug out a dissolvable thread and suture needle nonetheless. As you started to prepare the supplies, the rustle of his robes drew your attention. He was moving closer.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

"Since when are you any good at first aid?" you jabbed, trying to push him away with humour. He took the needle and thread from your hands, and you let him.

"When you grow up alongside someone who's frequently injured, you pick up a few things," he replied, his voice even. There was no hint of amusement, and for a moment, you froze. His words hit too close to home. He was talking about you.

He had more to say to you—more feelings to express behind the cool, collected mask—but he was afraid of scaring you off again. To say the wrong thing and send you running as you had so many times before.

The silence that followed was thick, painfully awkward. After so much time spent avoiding each other, you weren’t sure how to act. So, you simply let him work on your wounds. He cleaned, stitched, snipped, and dressed each injury with practiced ease, like he had done this countless times before.

“Turn around and lift your shirt,” he said, his voice casual, almost too casual.

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. It felt strange to be able to act like this—normal, engaged in a conversation—as if the past week hadn’t been one long, harrowing blur of pain and terror.

“So I can look at your back,” he clarified, his voice warmer now. You could tell he was fighting the urge to laugh. You were grateful for the chance to turn away, hiding the flush that crept up your neck.

“Right, of course,” you said with a huff. “I just didn’t hear you properly.” A breathy laugh escaped him as you lifted the back of your shirt, a shiver running up your spine as his fingertip brushed the skin of your lower back.

“Were you shot at?” he asked, his tone laced with concern, despite his attempt at indifference.

At some point in that jungle, all your injuries had blended together. It was hard to tell where one wound ended and another began.

“Yeah, why?” you asked, fiddling with your hands in your lap. You felt like a little kid caught doing something wrong. Ridiculous, considering you were an adult—and Obi-Wan was nearly a year younger than you.

You half-expected a lecture, a reminder to be more careful, like you were some fragile thing that needed protection. But instead, he just hummed thoughtfully.

“You’ve got a nasty graze,” he said, poking the injury. You yelped in surprise, instinctively swatting his hand away.

“Dick,” you huffed, but the amusement in your voice softened the words. He snickered, then cleaned the wound gently. For some reason, you felt a smile tug at your bruised cheeks.

At times, he would let his hands and eyes linger a little too long, as though reminding himself that you were here, right in front of him, alive. He hummed quietly as he finished stitching you up, cleaning the space around you. When he was done, he deposited the blood-soaked dressings and cotton pads into the bin with a soft rustle.

“Thank you,” you said, breaking the silence that had enveloped you both. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You kicked your legs back and forth, letting them dangle off the edge of the bed. It felt good to keep them moving, to keep your muscles from locking up after all that time in bed.

He paused for a second before responding. “I know.” He leaned back against the drawers, turning to face you fully. “You’re welcome.”

“About the other night—” You started, but the pained expression that flickered across Obi-Wan’s face made you pause. He had been adamant about hiding his feelings, but they were there now—flickering just beneath the surface.

“I’m sorry,” you continued, your voice small. “And you were right.”

He nodded slowly, then, with surprising courage, he sat down on the bed beside you. You scooted over to give him space, your shoulders and thighs brushing, but you didn’t mind. "You can say you told me so," you added, quietly.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he replied with a half-smile, and for a moment, everything felt a little easier.

You both sat in the silence that followed, but it was different now. Comfortable, even. It allowed you to hope for change, though you knew it was fleeting. Obi-Wan excused himself, remembering that he still had to bring a first aid kit to one of the Youngling classes. As you watched him leave, a tight pit formed in your stomach.

Sitting with Obi-Wan had revealed a difficult truth, one you hadn’t quite allowed yourself to face until now. Life would have to go on, whether you were ready for it or not. And you felt guilty—guilty for letting yourself feel something other than sorrow or mourning. It felt too soon. The wound was still too fresh.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

TAGS:

13 notes · View notes

whyse7vn · 1 year ago

Text

FOREVER 24 -

[ot7 x reader]

NAMKOOK MONTH!!

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jin: namjoon be honest are you bald by choice?

namjoon: yes

yoongi: pretty shit choice

jk: namjoons bald?

tae: cancer :/

jk: OMG???

y/n: that’s not funny tae

tae: not cancer

jk: oh…

jimin: why do you sound disappointed

namjoon: why wouldn’t it be by choice

yoongi: cuz it’s a shit choice idk

jin: was wondering if tae shaved ur hair off by accident or something

namjoon: why would that ever happen

jk: why would you choose to be bald?

namjoon: it’s hot

y/n: hot as HELL

hobi: drop it like hot

namjoon: i hate summer

y/n: wait

jimin: we’re talking about temperature btw

hobi: not the seventeen song?

y/n: not namjoon?

tae: i’d get him pregnant if i could

y/n: 🙏🏽

jin: what

tae: i’m a man full of love

yoongi: full of shit

tae: some say i over love actually

i overlove

i overthink

i overfeel

❤️

jimin: you underbathe

jk: i love to bathe

hobi: it doesn’t show

y/n: i have to dress jungkook everyday so he doesn’t embarrass me

jin: that’s sad

yoongi: why would the way he dress effect you

y/n: we live in the same house if i let him dress himself some people might suspect child neglect

jk: neglect

namjoon: the worst part about it is that you let her jungkook

tae: what have i told you about standing up for yourself kookie

jk: i enjoy it actually

tae: stop talking

you can’t keep embarrassing me like this

jk: i’m sorry

tae: if you were sorry you would change

jk: i will change

for you i’ll always change

jimin: get a room?

hobi: is it not jungkooks birthday today?

jk: happy birthday 🎂 💜

oh that’s me lmao

jin: idiot

y/n: it’s tomorrow

jk: when she knows ur birthday 😍

tae: when’s mine lol

namjoon: are we having a party?

yoongi: not coming

jimin: let’s have it at yoongi’s place

yoongi: what

can you not read??

y/n: we can have a sleepover party!!!!

that would be so cute

tae: super cute!!

it would also be cute if you told me when my birthday was loool

jin: give up

i’ll bring drinks

namjoon: i can do snacks

jimin: NO YOU WONT

last time you were on snacks you brought us a whole load of plant based crackers

hobi: i can be snack man

y/n: i can decorate yoongi’s place a bit before

yoongi: wtf is wrong with you all

when i don’t open the door to any of you

y/n: i have a key?

yoongi: you do?

y/n: don’t act like you didn’t know

yoongi: idk what ur talking about

that’s pretty scary actually

jimin: get a room pt 2?

tae: let me in the room lol

when was i born @y/n

jk: all of this for me 🥺🥺

jimin: don’t flatter urself i just want to drink

hobi: what about a cake??

namjoon: i can get one

tae: you can just say the month i was born forget the date lmao

jin: how old is he turning?

jk: 26

jimin: 25???

hobi: i thought he was 23?

namjoon: i think it’s 24

yoongi: 1

y/n: he’s been 24 for like 5 years in a row

jin: somone google it

actually nvm i don’t care enough

namjoon just gonna put 24 on the cake

jk: is it a surprise party?

yoongi: are you stupid?

jimin: yes now close ur eyes ok?

jk: ok

hobi: there’s no way

y/n: jungkook…

yoongi: he is stupid

tae: i’ll give you a hint it ends in ember

namjoon: tae shut up

y/n go tell jungkook to open his eyes

jimin: here comes the fun police guys

y/n: sir yes sir 🫡

tae: lol i’m into that

hobi: tae got a really round head

tae: WTF NO I DONT

my head is perfect

jin: no because i was thinking the same thing it’s BIG as hell too

tae: ur wrong

if anything

yoongi’s head is CRAZY ngl

yoongi: why the fuck did you word it like that

y/n: yoongi and tae fucking omg???

jk: plot twist

jin: look who opened his eyes

jk: it’s me lol

he’s talking about me

cuz my eyes were closed

jimin: we know

hobi: open your eyes - 7th sense nct u

y/n: neo got my back 💚

tae: whose neo why is he touching ur back

is this consensual???

can he fight??

namjoon: you all are getting to old to be acting like this still

hobi: wdym jungkook is only 24?

jimin: maybe he’s talking about jin

jin: BACK OFF NAMJOON UR BALD

namjoon: i’m so tried

jk: i bet ironman is tired rn

yoongi: didn’t he die??

jk: you can be tired in heaven as well yoongi

jimin: beyoncé probably tired rn but she still looks pretty what’s ur excuse namjoon

hobi: bald people can’t be pretty

tae: about to cook guys wish me luck

yoongi: kys

tae: what

jk: keep yourself safe?

yoongi: kill yourself

tae: i’m gonna ignore you

y/n: jungkook shake ass on tiktok

jimin: ew

jk: ok

jin: you literally have no backbone jungkook

jk: ummm yes i do

i am no worm

namjoon: 😕

hobi: if she told you to jump off a cliff would you

yoongi: pls

jk: who

y/n: jungkook jump off a cliff

jk: what cliff

where is it

i’ll do it

jimin: not surprised

hobi: i think every year he decreases in age

jin: that makes a lot of sense

tae: i just deep fired an apple

y/n: why

tae: stay tf out my business

y/n: i hope you never see happiness

namjoon: what time is the party btw?

yoongi: never

jk: happy birthday 💜

hobi: we ride out at dawn

tae: should i bring deep fired apples

jin: i don’t even fuck with you all i won’t lie

y/n: do you think nct will perform for us

tae: sausage fest woah

yoongi: there is something really fucking wrong with you

tae: me and ur mother be fucking lol

yoongi: he’s not invited

someone kick him

nvm i’ll do it

yoongi kicked tae from "namkook month!!"

jk: do you think fish get lonely when they’re alone

jin: you think fish have kinks?

hobi: what if fish were behind the titanic crash

jk: what if they were in front of it

y/n: wow that’s insane

jk: ikr sometimes you have to think outside the box

jimin: you think outside the box constantly!

hobi: bro thinks outside the triangle 💀💀

jin: what does that even mean

jk: thanks guys!!!

namjoon: i asked a question

y/n: are we in school rn?

jin: yk i love a good bit of role play 🙈

yoongi: isn’t it better without him

jin: who’s him?

yoongi: exactly

jimin: i’m him

y/n: i could throw up

jk: do you know the muffin man?

namjoon: can we decide on a time pls

jk: OMG

what if we all just show up and see if we’re all in sync with each other

namjoon: that’s stupid

yoongi: i agree i’m not mentally connected to you guys in anyway shape or form

y/n: yoongi’s lying we talk telepathically all the time

jk: YOU DO???

jimin: ….

hobi: i agree with jungkooks idea

wow

never thought i would say that

wow…

sorry give me a minute guys

jk: take all the time you need bro

yoongi: he just insulted you

jk: WHO?????

jimin: i’ll be there at 6

PM btw

jk: i don’t think you understand what we are doing jimin

ur not supposed to tell us

jimin: stop talking to me

namjoon: 6 ok

fucking finally

y/n: dw jk jimin’s a bit yk…

jk: ohhhhh ok

i’m sorry jimin

6 sounds like a plan wink wink lol

jimin: never fucking wink wink lol at me again you rat

hobi added tae to "namkook month!!"

yoongi: do you hate me

hobi: sorry he wouldn’t stop calling me

i don’t like being harassed

tae: hiii guys did you miss me

yoongi: no

yoongi left "namkook month!!"

jin: if i was to ever pass out it would go like this

heLLLLOOOPPPP

HELPPPP ME PLSS

ITS ALL FADING TO BLACK

HELPPPPP 😩😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😨

GASP

HELP

🫨🙄😵‍💫😵 (that’s my eyes rolling to the back of my head btw)

now i’m passed out £2!2£2&:&&;&;&;&;&;&,&;&;;;8;&&:&&:8:88;87,7,7,£,£,£;&;&;&,7,7,7,77,7,8;&:,&,&&,&,&,&,&,?&,&&?&&&,&,&,&:7,7,7,7;77;£,£;7££;£,,£,7,7,7,&&,&,,’cmnnmmmm98828:&,&,&,&,&:&,&,&,&,£,£,£,£,

and scene

jk: wow that was really good

it really felt like you passed out

jimin: wish you would pass out for real

jimin left “namkook month!!”

hobi: i don’t think it’s healthy that after one conversation everyone just ends up leaving the gc…

namjoon left “namkook month!!”

tae: no but fr who is namkook and why is it their month what a selfish bitch

y/n left “namkook month!!”

hobi: nvm i get it

hobi left “namkook month!!”

tae: lowkey i think you might be the problem jungkook…

jk: you think so?

tae: yeah lol

jk: why can’t you be the problem?

tae: why would i be the problem?

jk: i can’t always be the problem

tae: you seem to make it work

jk: ur not invited anymore

tae: what

jk: to the party

don’t come

ur uninvited

tae: don’t say things you’ll regret jungkook

whose gonna bring the deep fired apples if i don’t come??

jk: i’ll make it work

like i always do

this is goodbye taehyung

bye

jk left “namkook month!!”

tae: what the fuck

—

happy jk day !! clearly this was written yesterday lmao

324 notes · View notes

yourlocalstranger123 · 2 years ago

Text

@junejunejun

—The post—

I totally understand your pain. Your fav character not having enough fics of them in this app? Absolute pain. Also! Spoiler alert❗️ there's gonna be 2 readers together 😘🥰 (totally not because idk which 2 gender of readers u wanted)

This is kinda sh- bad.

Note: I do not proof read so if I miss-spell something or like instead of saying her/he or she/him and saying "you" Please do correct me.

Male reader is either taller or stronger than itto. Just wanted to point out

DNI MINORS. Of course, if u are one and still read it; I won't stop you, but you can't blame me. <3 Also, I still don't completely understand how to lock a fic thing. Idk anymore

Warning:! 3rd person point of view? NSFW, Slight blood mention, praise k!nk, threesome, Slight rivalry between readers, only 2 genders (f!) And (m!) So no trans reader, Itto is AMAB and I think that's all? Tell me if I missed some.

Itto— orange

×—×—×

Itto was doing a Beetle battles again. Totally not dying inside from being defeated 8 times in a row. He finally was finished as he wobbly tried to find you. Sniffling at his loss slightly, but still, his mood was happy! Like, how can't he not be happy with you? He still tries to find you until he finds a bottle filled with bright and hot pink color liquid.

He wasn't gonna drink it at first, but he was unconsciously coming closer (perhaps because of the aroma in the atmosphere). Without knowing until he gulped the whole bottle down, he panicked since he didn't know why he did that. He quickly ran to your guys house, finding you both there as his hair was a mess. he quickly rested his head on {F! Name} lap/thighs. (Don't worry, the certain merchant that selled that was me teehe. It's all free.)

(Guys can have very....nice thighs, you know. Either buff, slim, thick, and girls thighs, or any. Because I'm going to suffocate myself with it either way— I mean.....nvm-...im just saying y'know.)

[Also, the lap/thighs is {F! Name}]

He shuddered when he felt a more, muscular and bigger hands onto his neck that was playing with his hair. It was {M! Name}

"What's wrong itto?" {M! Name} asked. {F! Name} was also worried. Rubbing his horns softly as he whined. "*hic* Please help me....it huurts..! Pleashe.....?" His words slurring, as his face flushed with red

He's squirmed, whining how it hurts! Please help him? Pretty pleaseee? Drooling as he quickly kissed back when {F! Name} kissed him. Trying to lean more into the kiss, he yelped when {M! Name} walked to the bedroom upstairs, covering his mouth from the embarrassment of making the sound.

But quickly forgets it and tried un-buttoning {M! Name} shirt but pouting when he struggled, so he simply ripped it apart, which made {F! Name} slightly chuckling and made {M! Name} raise his eyebrow at him.

"Oh my, how impatient of our Itto to just do this!" {F! Name} laughed as she said that. {M! Name} sighed but smirked slightly when he saw Itto voice muffling against his neck, sucking it and leaving marks. {M! Name} groaned when he felt Itto biting him, licking off the small drops of blood.

Both of you guys eyes widen as you see Itto's teeth....did it become more sharper and bigger than before? It doesn't matter because Itto is both of you guys darling precious Oni! You guys slightly blushed as many lewd thoughts comes out as you see Itto laid out onto the bed, looking do majestic!>>>

Itto's pants were getting tight, trying to quickly tug it off. Panting as he tried grabbing you both with his hands but instead just making a grabbing action in the air. Whining as {M! Name} Chuckled. Itto drooled as he saw {F! Name} fingering herself for prep after you both finished taking your clothes off. {F! Name} pulled of Itto's pants and was about to put Itto's cock into her dripping pussy but {M! Name} slightly moved her over and kept Itto for himself.

Seeing his smirk of winning, {F! Name} scoffed. But soon went to Itto's side, letting him gently grabbing her chest and letting him suck on it. Drool dripping from his chin as he muffled his moaning by sucking on it. Slightly shuddering and tears forming when {M! Name} started to finger him, laughing when three fingers fit in so easily.

"Oh? Already playing with yourself while we weren't here?" {M! Name} teased. Biting and sucking Itto's chest as he continued scissoring Itto's hole. Itto's face flushed, hugging {F! Name} waist. Hiding his face into her chest. "Awww, is my Itto upset from {M! Name} teasing?"

{F! Name} said. Itto slightly nodded, bucking his hips into {M! Name} fingers. He opened his mouth, letting his tongue out. He whined when you didn't understand his desires.

"Please let me taste you, pleaseeee?"

Itto begs, squeezing her thighs as he pouts and uses those doggy eyes of his. Sighing, but smiling at {M! Name}. As he rolled his eyes at her, she lifted her hips up and lines it up to Itto's mouth. As Itto desperately eating her out, {M! Name} finally entered him. Groaning by the warmth and tightness around him as Itto whined. Grinding against him, Itto eyes rolled back as it teased his prostate.

"What a good boy, staying still and listening to us. Good boys definitely need a reward, don't they?" {F! Name} smiled, seeing Itto's cock twitch at her words. Stroking Itto's hair as he licked off the juices from her pussy. Not wanting to waste any,,

The room filled with slurping of itto's mouth on {F! Name} boobs and the creaks of the bed. Making {M! Name} smiled at the destroyed state of Itto, pressing onto the bulge, which made Itto squirmed. A blue oni covering his mouth, panting as he desperately humped his palm as he leaned onto the door. Listening to the lewd sounds.

147 notes · View notes

cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 months ago

Note

happy solstice! this darkest night of the year calls for... promising light 😉

⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅

HAPPY SOLSTICE! THANK YOU! I WANT TO FINISH THIS SO BAD

90 for ⛅:

Actually nvm this is all you get ;)

---

Buck nods, wiping his eyes. “Fine. I’m ready now. I’m ready to go.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. “That’s uh… That’s good.”

“Why are we still here?” Buck asks, voice edging on frantic.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“If I’m ready and you’re ready, why are we still here?” Buck asks. “I want to leave. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I’m ready to leave,” Eddie confirms.

“Then why are we standing here, Eddie?” Buck asks, tears starting to spill over from his eyes.

Eddie steps forward to pull him into a hug. Buck is shaking, just a little.

“I don’t know,” Eddie says calmly. “I don’t know how this works.”

Buck inhales. “Sorry. Sorry, I know.”

“You left the instructions,” Eddie teases lightly. “Could’ve given some detail.”

“I’ll do better next time,” Buck mumbles.

Eddie breaks the hug and steps back. “Hold on a sec, okay?”

“Okay?” Buck replies, uncertain.

Eddie heads back into the kitchen, sifts around a liquor cabinet, and heads back to where Buck is standing in the hall. He thrusts a bottle of expensive tequila at him. Buck accepts the bottle hesitantly.

“You want me to drink myself into oblivion to deal with this?” Buck asks. “Doesn’t seem responsible.”

“Sort of how we got here,” Eddie points out. “Except this is better than the beer you bought.”

“Hey!”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Eddie shrugs.

“Well, that was different,” Buck says. “I was hopeless and you weren’t wearing pants.”

“I can take off my pants,” Eddie says. He doesn’t mean for it to sound suggestive but it sort of does. Which doesn’t feel right for the moment.

Buck raises an eyebrow. “One problem.”

“And what’s that?” Eddie asks.

“I do have hope now,” Buck whispers. “I’m just sad anyway.”

Eddie nods. “I get it. So listen. Why don’t we both take off our pants. Sit in bed with a bottle of tequila, and talk about all the things we’re going to do when we’re back? Maybe that will make it come sooner.”

Buck smiles through his tears. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do that.”

🌤️

Nothing happens. They don’t get swept away to the past. They don’t disappear and reappear somewhere else. They just get tipsy and cuddly and goofy with each other, and then they fall asleep. Easy, gentle, warm.

Just as Buck is holding himself awake, dead tired, but not wanting to miss the transition back to his reality, Eddie holds him a big tighter and whispers into his ear. Drunk and a little loose-lipped, like the usual filter between his heart and mouth has been removed.

“I’m going to love you forever,” he murmurs.

Bucks exhales, kissing Eddie and murmuring affirmations in return. He hadn’t realized he needed to hear it. That promise. When they’ve already both made promises. But he did.

It’s the last thing Buck needs to relax and let himself fall into a black, dreamless sleep.

#daisies and briars writes #promising light fic

19 notes · View notes

lunatic-fandom-space · 10 months ago

Text

when I watched Metropolis (1927) i misread or misunderstood something and for a brief while I thought 'Freder' was the main characters last name and everyone was just calling him by his last name, which i didnt question because at the point in the film it seemed like everyone who was interacting with him was 'beneath him' somehow and also, since the dialogue cards also called him that i thought theres gonna be something about identity or maybe even dehumanization in a "children are defined by their parents' actions"-kinda way, but then he goes to talk to his dad and hes also calling him Freder which is weird to me of course but again, Im watching with the assumption that this is somehow gonna tie in to some theme about identity so I dont really dwell on the fact this weirdo is calling his son by last name. Then theres a dialogue card that i dont misread thats like 'something something Joh Fredersen' and Im like ohhhhhhh nvm, thats their last name and Freder is... the protagonists first name then? okay sure. But once I realize that I start thinking. okay so, i have a hard time explaning whats going on in my head when I watch movie especially without sounding stupid so bear with me here. You know how in medieval europe most people didnt really have last names the same way we do now, they either just had their occupation or their father's first name + -son at the end? Yeah, so I was thinking about the name Frederson as a corruption of Fredersson (Freder's Son) and how that could potentially play into some identity-related themes, because for some reason within the first few minutes I just got really attached to the idea of this movie having themes like that somehow. And like, i guess I wasnt entirely wrong but idk, i wouldnt really say this movie has anything to say about identity so much as I would say that it has the characters swap places a lot. Anyway, then shit goes conpletely off the rails and i forget about my precious Identity Themes for the remainder of the film

And Im telling you all of this because i watched the film a few days and I watched the musical based on it the same day as the film and just a few hours ago I listened to the 2001 german radiodrama and only now did it truly hit me that Freder's full name is.... Freder Fredersen. thats what his dad called him. Honestly that might be the worst of all his crimes against humanity

#like Freder on its own is already pretty silly to me as a name #but im sure it was a kinda normal name back in 1920s germany #atleast less weird than it is in 2020s germany #or it could be a corruption of a common name kinda like joh and hel seem to be corruptions of john/jonathan and helen/helene #but him being called Freder Fredersen just elevates it to pure comedy #metropolis 1927

19 notes · View notes

aajjks · 9 months ago

Note

nvm…this is PERFECT 😈

mommy issues!JK

why are you so good at hurting jungkook? maybe you’re better off keeping your thoughts to yourself because you always do more harm than good to your relationship; it’s always you. you don’t see nothing wrong with being engaged to jungkook. you love him, you really do but you also feel doubt. a lot of doubt.

after covering up the hickies as best you can, you leave the bathroom and head to the kitchen to wash the container you had your strawberries and cream cheese in. since you don’t have anything to do, maybe you’ll start applying for jobs or maybe you’ll go to the hair salon and get a haircut.

after jungkook finishes getting dressed, he presses a kiss to your temple and to your round belly before leaving you alone in the quiet apartment. “make sure you text me when—,” you say but jungkook shuts the door before you could finish your sentence. you let out a sigh, he’s definitely upset.

you throw some sandals on, grab your keys, and head out to run some errands. you go to the grocery store and load up on more snacks for both of your babies, head to a baby store to look for some baby clothes, go to the salon to get your hair cut into a short pixie, and—

*BUZZ*

from jungkook 🩵🥰✨

had to stop and grab gas. what you up to?

you okay?

to jungkook 🩵🥰✨

i’m okay. running some errands

are you okay? i miss you already 🥺

i’m sorry for being weird this morning. i love you so much ❤️

you get in your car and drive back to the apartment and when you arrive back home, you take a much needed rest on the couch (for 3 hours to be exact) until you hear loud knocking at the door and the sound of the doorbell. “give me a sec” you say as you stretch before getting up and opening the door to see eunwoo with an excited seol.

“hey y/—WOAHHHHHHHH!!!! are you preg—,”

“HEY SEOL!! why don’t you go put your stuff up while me and your uncle talk” you place a kiss on the 5-year olds head and wait for seol to be a little further before revealing that you haven’t told him about your pregnancy or anyone for that matter.

“ohhh okay okay but wow, look at you. how far along are you?”

“four months. i’ll be five next week. jungkook didn’t tell you that i was pregnant?”

“no! he didn’t tell me anything about it! you look great though. man, i can’t wait to tell alina. she’s gonna be so excited”

“no, you can’t tell anyone until jungkook gets back”

“where’s he—oh yeah, he’s in incheon. what’s the gen—,”

eunwoo is interrupted by a knocking at the door which surprises the both of you since you weren’t expecting any guests today. you open the door and you’re in shock to see a certain familiar person that you’ve yet to meet.

those eyes, that nose, those bunny teeth, is this…

“oh, hello! you must be the maid”

“maid?”

“have you seen my son? i wanted to talk to him about something”

introducing: jeon ji-yeon, aka, jungkook’s beloved mother.

~🫧

Eunwoos eyes widen in shock at the interaction between you and jungkooks mother. “Oh-Oh no Mrs Jeon this is yn!!!!” he shakes his head, getting nervous.

Why would she mistake you for a maid? This is so embarrassing and awkward. Someone just take him away.

“Uh yn this is jungkooks mother.” Eunwoo introduces you to his aunt, he’s so close to your fiancé that he calls his mother aunt “숙모!!! This is jungkooks girlfriend!” He explains.

“But she is not Nara?”

dude, this is so awkward, she’s here after so many years, he needs to tell jungkook.

as he is telling her about your relationship with her son, she can’t help but stare at your pregnant belly.

“Uhhh why is she pregnant?” She questions and eunwoo feels even more uncomfortable, his ears are getting redder,

“uhhh yn explain okay? I’m sorry I’m in a hurry. I have to go to incheon too. Take care OK, if Seol troubles you just call alina. Bye yn- Bye 숙모!” And with that he runs away from the awkward situation he had found himself in.

Just as he leaves, he takes his phone to message His best friend about the storm is going to come into his life soon.

Or rather has already arrived.

•••

Jungkook is looking over to some papers, busy signing them when he gets a few messages on his phone, he didn’t reply to your messages so maybe it’s you.

He can’t lie he’s a little mad at you because it’s hard for him to understand you and you don’t even know what you want, it is frustrating and degrading at this point.

But nonetheless, he picks up his phone, but he is surprised to see that the texts are from his best friend.

eunwoo 😎

dude your mother is here at your home and yn and her met and it was really awkward.. I think you need to come home.

ALSO BTW WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THAT YOU’RE EXPECTING A NEW KID? I’M ABOUT TO BE AN UNCLE AGAIN WOW MAN YOU’RE FAST. 😉

And jungkooks face pales.

He needs to hurry back to Busan NOW.

#I’M LAUGHING SO HARD RIGHT NOW #ask: mi!jk #WHY WOULD HIS MOTHER MISTAKE HER FOR THE MAID? OH MY GOD THIS IS SO FUNNY. I SHOULDN’T BE LAUGHING BUT I CAN’T STOP.

5 notes · View notes

notapinguin · 6 months ago

Text

I didn't think he'd be like that. The type to leave someone on delivered. I was wrong. I don't understand why but then again at this point it shouldn't concern me. I think that's why it's taken me awhile to let go of him. I hadn't realized that. I thought he was different but he's just like a lot of people. I thought at least we were friends but it turns out we're just coworkers. I imagined that maybe I would invite him and another coworker to do something for my birthday in October, but know I think that is a far away idea. Honestly it hurts a bit. I just hope I can finally let go of this man knowing what he's really like. He's a good person just like everyone else. But maybe not the right person to be close with. I liked him, not just as a crush. As a perso. As well. He was very sweet. Yet, ever since he came back he has been distant and I am tired of stressful feelings toward this situation that is only happening in my head. I imagined us talking like how we talked before he left. It was a nice conversation. It might be the deepest conversation we've ever had. He's told me multiple times that if I leave, I have to let him know. That was before he left. When he came back, he said something like

'Damn you're still here?'

'I can't believe you're still here.'

And it sounded like he wanted me to leave. I don't know how to feel about him. But i don't want to be bothered by what he thinks. It's always so complicated. I cant predict how he feels or thinks about me. I dont know if I'll continue to be delulu or just face the facg that he might not even like me. Not even as a coworker. Just that random dislike people have for others.

So a coworker just wrote in the chat that her schedule was changed. Meaning that his schedule for the week was going to be changed. And my disrespectful-towards-myself-ass was about to check. I even opened the app and everything but closed it before I could check. I'm putting my respect first.

Nvm parece q hicieron el cambio ayer y ya lo habia visto.

Nvm lo chequie y por ahora vamos a trabajar el sabado during the sort of same shift.

But he keeps living rent free in my mind.

I keep saying خلاص خلاص خلاص خلاص

Enough about him. I'll only view him as a normal guy from now on.

It has been tiring. It is time to say 'until next time', not goodbye because I don't like those.

مسالمة

#chemistry #coworker #coworker crush #im done

1 note · View note

just-some-random-blogger · 2 months ago

Note

CRISTI YOU BET YOUR FUCKIN ASS I HAT TO READ THE FIRST PART BEFORE READING THE OTHER. UHM HELLO????? THIS IS SO DELICIOUS

Forgive me if I'm wrong but you said you wanted to write dialogue like me????? GIRLLLLLL WHY WHEN YOU WRITE DIALOGUE LIKE THISSSSSSSS. FUCKKKKK HELLO???????

I also went through the comments and reblogs and I saw you said you wanted a complicated siblings relationship and GORLLL. gwORL YOU DELIVERED HELLO? ITS LIKE BITING INTO ICE ANGSTY ITS A NEEDLE TO THE HEART I LOVE IT YOU HAD ME SCREAMINGHHHH but also I'm very dramatic BUT ALSO ITS JUST SO DELICIOUS HELLO????????

Right i ***may*** requote way too much again but I JUST CANT HELP MYSELF I just had pancakes before reading this and this was like dessert after you know LMAO

Summary: Courting. Daemon’s version.

GURL I WISH I COULD MAKE SUMMARIES AS GOOD AS YOU WHAT IS THAT DAMN BOOM CRACKLE SNAP WHAT THEBFUCK

And just as if it were one of his models, he had demanded perfect symmetry in all aspects.

I wish I had unlimited image uses bcUse *Jerry crying meme* that was beautiful. (Fuck you viserys Im glad aegon smashed your ye old Lego set 😗✌️)

EDIT: NVM HERES THE MEME IT STILL FIT RAHHHHH

An even split of your mother’s jewels.

Lol they broke each necklace in half HAHAAHAHHAHA on earring each HAHAHAHA

Daemon and Rhaenyra race on their dragons [...] You are not sure which you resent more. Rhaenyra, for dragging you along with the promise of tending to Syrax or Daemon for interrupting your time with your sister.

This. I started to hurt here. I feel her. Fuck all of y'all. I'm going to projectile CRY. Yearning for both of them while simultaneously loathing them. family 😃

It seemed as if all you did was fight now. The occasion where you did not was rare, and so, intrusion on it was not welcome.

*TAPS MIC* FUCK YOU DAEMON 'ROGUE PRINCE' TARGARYEN THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME LIKE YOU 👎👎👎🍅🍅🍅

Despite your best attempts at keeping yourself calm, you can’t help but feel rage bubble up in your throat. Rage, and a deep sense of failure.

............. Is she me 😃✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️ it's fine

You had heard even Laena Velaryon, younger than you, had managed to claim a dragon. Was this why your father had chosen Rhaenyra to be heir and not you?

The pain of things out of your control 😃✌️ it's fine 😗✌️💥📸 cheeese

Go where you couldn’t follow, and made you watch them go.

Fuck you cristi. This is a personal vendetta against me.

Your nose scrunches up, and you jump off the railing just in time to avoid your uncle’s ruffling of your hair.

*POWERS UP MEGAPHONE* 🗣️ 📣 ONCE AGAIN I AM SAYING FUCK YOU TO DAEMON 'WHITE HAIRED RAT' TARGARYEN

“No.” Your answer it’s harsh, and perhaps a bit rude, but this feels as if they are targedly mocking you. Daemon raises his eyebrows, looking on the edge of apologizing, if such a thing it’s even possible for him. Rhaenyra, more used to your moods, just rolls her eyes.

HER RESPONSES MAKE MY HEART TWINGE. FUCK YOU DAEMON. FUCK YOU RHAENYRA. FUCK ALL OF YALL. *PLAYS MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE* NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME

“Pouty?” Daemon tilts your chin up with two fingers. You jerk your head away, glaring daggers at him.

Your just jealous cos you dont have lips white man 🧐🙄✋

Riverlander, just as handsome and with a clear infatuation with your sister.

🗣️IS🗣️NOTHING🗣️SACRED🗣️ WHAT ABOUT ME WHY IS IT ALWAYS HER

“I figured your meeting with the Princess would not go as planned.” He explains, as he helps you out of your cloak and jewelry. Ser Harwin helps you put on some protective gear before handing you a wooden sword.

*INSERT GREYS ANATOMY SOUND* SO PICK ME. CHOOSE ME. LOVE ME. HARWINNNNNN PLEASE HARWINNNNNN HARSINNNN HARISNNNN 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Not so much for self-defense, but as a way to curb your more violent impulses. When you feel like you might throttle Rhaenyra or perhaps smother her with a pillow, you come to him.

WHY DOES SHE GET BOTH OF THEM EHY DOES SHE GET BOTH OF THEM

You understand why men enjoy battle so much, finally.

... No. Yuck.

They even called her the Realm’s delight, for Gods’s sake.

And she's dragonless? I would do 10 lines of coke everyday

“You tell me.” You pant, a little out of breath. It was something you frequently wondered yourself, but never about him.

GAGGED. CLOCKED. WAIT NO I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC. SUDDENLY I LOVE THAT HES IN LOVE SITH RHAENYRA 👏AND👏HE👏CANT👏HAVE👏HER👏PURR👏 PARALLELS WE LOVE TO SEE IT

You loved teasing him about it. For such a big man, he could sure get sheepish.

💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥 LET ME IN PLEASE IM TRYNA LET HIM IN WINK WINK

“Fair.” Ser Harwin chuckled, raising his wooden sword again. You liked that he was very good-humored. He didn't mind your teasing. “But think of the bright side. If someone is after you, they are really after you.”

I will break acid into your face. KSSJJS OK TOO FAR I LOVE 5HEM ACTUALLY WE LOVE TO SEE IT. HE WAS CLOCKED AND HE WAS LIKE yah I was lmao HAHHAHHA WE LOVE TO SEEIT

“Wise words for one so young.”

Oh my gosh shut the fuck up this just in old man is jealous of the youth and thinks everything is their fault

“Poor form. And a poor trainer. Leave us.”

“Leave us, boy.” Daemon’s tone turns harsher. Channeling all the authority he has as a Prince. Now, your sworn shield can’t refuse. It’s an order, not a suggestion. But Harwin remains where he is, looking to you for approval.

RIP HARWIN YOU WOULD HAVE LOVED DIVORCE GETTING CUSTODY AND CROSSFIT

“Commendable.” He gives a slow clap. “Very loyal guard dog, you have there.”

??????

“If this was a real fight, you would be dead.” His tone is smug. You cannot take it, and so, bang your wooden sword against his hip.

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ number fuckinG 1: you are a 🤢MAN🤢 numbER FUCKKJG 2: you are a SEASONED WARRIOR number fucking 3: YOU ARE A BIG OAF number fucking 4: HEMLOCK IN YOUR EAR GO❗

Your uncle laughs, coldly. He is angry too, you realize. In that messy way he gets, sometimes. Teeth bared in a cocky grin, still high on the thrill of riding Caraxes and chasing Rhaenyra.

.FUCK SHIT FUCK I SEE IT I HEARD IT I IMAGINED IT SO CLEARLY

AHHHH DAEMOOOOONNNNNN FUCK YOU

Despite your best attempts, you are no match for him. He is a seasoned warrior. He has been at war for the last couple of years. No amount of anger can match his technique. Soon, he has you disarmed and cornered, Dark Sister at your throat.

IM SAYIN. 🗣️IVE🗣️BEEN🗣️SAYIN🗣️ ..... Also .... S-ss-sword-

“Not bad. I might even bruise.”

*INSERT THAT MEME WHERE THERES THIS WOMAN WHO HAS A PERSONS LIPS SNATCHHHHEDD LIKE LITERALLY*

His tone drips condescension, but there is something odd going on in his face. His pupils are blown, his chest is heaving, and there is no way it’s with exertion. While you were panting and begging for a respite, Daemon hadn’t even worked up a sweat. “You need a real sword.”

MAN DOWN BADDDDDDD MAN DOWNNNNN

“Perhaps. But then Rhaenyra gets one, and this is only mine.”

MY HEART ACTUALLY HURT. YOU HURTED ME. YOU HURTER. I HURTED. IM HURTED I HATE IT HERE

“Is that why you want a husband? To have someone only yours?” Daemon suddenly is much closer, twirling the end of your braid between his fingers.

Wishing every daemon targaryen a very much shut the fuck up. GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY HAIR

“That’s none of your concern.”

LOUDER FOR THE FOUR EYED MAN IN THE FRONT(y'know cuz matt smith has glasses [THIS AINT ABOUT YOU THO BOO I FUCKING LOVE YOU LETS FUCK])

You storm inside the Red Keep, scowling. Finally, it seemed, Daemon and Rhaenyra had managed to run you off the castle’s grounds.

CRYING THIS. THIS IS A KICK TO THE TEETH. A BOOT ON THE RIBS. FUCK

[...] visiting orphaned children in King’s Landing. That activity is one you and Ser Harwin particularly enjoy. It fills you with joy when you get to run around and play in the mud with your stern guard having no choice but to tag along. You have even caught him smiling when little girls ask to braid his hair.

🥺🥺🥺💔💔💔💔😫😫😫 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. HARWIN COME HOME. COME HOME RIGHT NOW. COME HOME TO MEEEEEE OSPSPSPSSPSPSS

Until one night, you find a jeweled sword resting on your bed.

Ngl I misread this and thought it was a single jewel and I was like ???? Is that supposed to impress me???????

“Almost didn’t recognize you, either. No scandal in nearly a month?” [...] “You must be getting old.”

RATTATATTTAATATTA SHOTS FIRERREDEEEEDDD

“Youthfulness is in the spirit.”

Yuck. 🫵old🫵man🫵in🫵denial🫵

You resist the urge to walk faster if only to see him struggle.

YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE RESISTEDDDDD WHA THE FUCK

“Ah, that makes sense.” You slow down your steps because while you enjoy angering your uncle, you would rather not anger him too much. “You have the spirit of a child.”

PFFFTTTTF HAHAHAHHAHH DOUBLE CLOCKEDD SHE REALLY THREW PAINT AT HIM RAHHHHH. NO NO NO NO FEARRR ANGER HIM SOME MORE 👹👹👹👹🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥

“How many of Rhaenyra’s necklaces you had to melt to get the sword.”

</3 I know she said that as a joke. As a tease. But 💔💔💔💔 if that were me I would cry. All bark and not bite I'm a cry baby fuck shit fuck I hate you all

You cannot help but wonder if it’s you who was prompted him to wreak such havoc. The idea of having such power over him, that an offhanded comment can cause such a reaction, makes something tingle in your stomach.

The fact she knows she has that ✨awra✨ that's were she and I are different. I'm too wrapped up in my self loathing 😃😃😃😃🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

In time, you had come to understand that it wasn’t like she had a choice, either.

Alicent the could never make me hate you 💔

“I was getting lonely.” You say, softly. The admission surprises even you. “You are with Rhaenyra all the time.”

My heart breaks my heart hurts

Don’t go where I can’t follow, you wish to say. Don’t take her from me. My other half. But you don’t speak the words aloud, from fear of him repeating your confession. You don’t want to beg Rhaenyra for affection, not when you have been competing with her all your life.

I will be fucking sending you my therapy bill. Fuck all y'all I need to inject vit c and pretend its heroin

“It's not like I care.”

💔its🥲 not 🤡like🤪i🙄care💔

“The curse of the younger brother.”

❓❓❓❓❓❓AM I SUPPOSED TO FUCKING KNKW WHAT THAT MEANS

“I beg your pardon?”

SEE 🫵🫵🫵 SEE

“We could fly off tonight. Go to the Free cities, marry. No one would care.” His tone is fervent, urgent. Pleading with you. You keep quiet, and so does he. The silence stretches between the two of you. Your mind races.

I KNOW WHAT HE MEANS BUT NO ONE WOULD CARE CUTS DEEP. I HATE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I WANT YOU. I DESPISE YOU.

“That’s the point, yes.” Daemon speaks slowly, as if explaining to someone particularly daft. Or innocent. “I’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”

HES NASTYYYY I HATE HIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The part where you can choose anyone didn't get copied but I was like

YOU YOU CRETIN I CHOOSE YOU

Fuck this fic has me like

Daemon is nasty I hate him I want him Rhaenyra is my archnemesis I miss her too ughhhhh stunning

Hi! For the bingo: Daemon Targaryen & courting?

Mirror (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Warnings: Targaryen reader. Mature situations. Mature language. A bit of angst, incest, and innocence kink.

Summary: Courting. Daemon’s version.

A/N: Everyone who writes Daemon fics has tackled this trope. I missed oneshots so bad.

There was little King Viserys wouldn’t do for his lovely daughters. During your childhood, there were two of everything. Two Septas, two dolls, two play daggers. For as long as you have been alive, there have been efforts made to make things fair.

No doubt, it was the legacy of your mother. Your father was nice enough, but you doubted he had the foresight to try to avoid sibling rivalry. Queen Aemma’s influence had been greatly missed after her passing.

It had been then when the problems between you and Rhaenyra had started. Your relationship had gotten even more rocky when she was named heir. The situation had turned so bad, even your father had noticed. And just as if it were one of his models, he had demanded perfect symmetry in all aspects.

The same rooms. Same number of servants. Same number of dresses you were allowed to own. An even split of your mother’s jewels.

Unfortunately, there were things not even King Viserys could fix. This was one of them, you thought, as you sat on one of the rails of the dragon pit.

Daemon and Rhaenyra race on their dragons in the open sky right above you. They shriek in laughter and shout things in High Valyrian. You are not sure which you resent more. Rhaenyra, for dragging you along with the promise of tending to Syrax or Daemon for interrupting your time with your sister.

It seemed as if all you did was fight now. The occasion where you did not was rare, and so, intrusion on it was not welcome. But at the same time, you can’t help but wonder if Rhaenyra is playing a cruel trick on you, dragging you here so you can see what you are missing.

Despite your best attempts at keeping yourself calm, you can’t help but feel rage bubble up in your throat. Rage, and a deep sense of failure. You had heard even Laena Velaryon, younger than you, had managed to claim a dragon. Was this why your father had chosen Rhaenyra to be heir and not you?

It felt cruel, and hurtful. Not only did your uncle always pay more attention to Rhaenyra, but now you had to watch them do things you couldn’t do. Go where you couldn’t follow, and made you watch them go.

They dismount a few feet away from you. With them, comes all the hassle and fretting of the dragon keepers. Caraxes always takes a long time to settle after going flying, and so, you relax in your seat. You hope enough time might go by, they forget about your existence and you can slip out unnoticed. It would save you the embarrassment of having to hear them flirt and tell you everything as if you were a child.

No luck for you today, though. You smell it before you see it. Sweat, leather and the unmistakable stink of dragon. Your nose scrunches up, and you jump off the railing just in time to avoid your uncle’s ruffling of your hair.

Rhaenyra snickers a little. Despite the dragon ride, she looks as royal and regal as ever. It’s a feat you admire and despise greatly.

“Trying to sneak up on me?” You frown. You don’t need any further embarrassing. Being startled and falling into the mud would have been just the cherry on top.

Daemon ignores you, tugging on your braid.

“No dragon yet?”

“Let her be, Kepa.” She whispers, as if you are not there. “She is always like this.”

“Pouty?” Daemon tilts your chin up with two fingers. You jerk your head away, glaring daggers at him.

“Bitter.” Rhaenyra speaks, and you glare at her instead. You do not understand why she is so mean, lately. Her being named heir has not done anything good for your relationship, but you had tried your best to play nice. She didn’t seem to care.

“I can hear both of you.” You complain, but they just laugh. Angrily, you stomp off.

You feel too jittery to go back to your chambers. It would make you more angry, if you were to go inside the castle so soon. It’s too pleasant of a day to be spent cooped up at the Red Keep. Too preoccupied with your thoughts, you don’t notice someone is following you.

Your feet lead you to the training yard. It makes sense, in a way. This is where you have been coming the past few months when the castle got too small to house both you and Rhaenyra.

Early in the morning as it is, the yard is empty. Save for your sworn shield, of course. While Rhaenyra had gotten Ser Criston Cole, handsome and dornish, you had gotten Ser Harwin Strong. Riverlander, just as handsome and with a clear infatuation with your sister.

But kind. Unbearably so.

He has been teaching you swordplay for the past few months. Not so much for self-defense, but as a way to curb your more violent impulses. When you feel like you might throttle Rhaenyra or perhaps smother her with a pillow, you come to him.

It's good. You have not learned a lot, but there is something utterly satisfying about hitting someone as hard as you can. With wooden swords and against Ser Harwin, you know there is no real possibility of hurting him. He is much taller and stronger than you.

There is also something satisfying about blocking his blows, too. In the smacking sound, in the effort it takes. You understand why men enjoy battle so much, finally. When you walk away, you are always sore and bruised, but your mind is finally quiet.

“I have just resigned myself to an arranged marriage.” You say to Ser Harwin, as you block his sword with great effort. “All the men in the court are panting after her, it’s no use.”

And you do think you are on the right, this time. Too often, you feel overshadowed by her, and seeing your uncle and Ser Harwin on the same day just confirms it. You have no chance at finding true love, not when every man here only has eyes for her.

You didn’t necessarily were a romantic person, but a bit of attention would be nice. Feeling desired and admired in the way Rhaenyra was. They even called her the Realm’s delight, for Gods’s sake.

“Are they after her? Or her tittle?” Ser Harwin tries to disarm you. You hit harder, a low blow aimed to his ribs that he avoids with little effort.

“You tell me.” You pant, a little out of breath. It was something you frequently wondered yourself, but never about him. Ser Harwin clearly wasn’t hoping to be King. What he wanted was something much more carnal. You had seen the way his eyes trailed Rhaenyra’s figure when they were together in a room. He appreciated her personality, perhaps, but he clearly wanted to bed her.

You loved teasing him about it. For such a big man, he could sure get sheepish.

You frowned. He had a point, you supposed. If a man were about to pursue you, it might be because you are a Targaryen, or because of your valyrian looks. But never because of the Iron Throne. With baby Aegon existence, you are certain that whatever your place in the succession line is, plenty of people would have to die for you to even have a weak claim to it.

“Wise words for one so young.” The voice startles both of you. As if you were children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, you freeze. Ser Harwin even drops his wooden sword. “You should heed your knight, niece.”

“Uncle.” You answer, casually. You know Daemon. If he senses weakness, he is going to pounce. While Ser Harwin has given away already that you are not exactly doing something your father approves off, you are not going to have your Uncle thinking he has something to blackmail you with.

Daemon ignores you, choosing to attack the weak link. He tuts at Harwin.

“Poor form. And a poor trainer. Leave us.”

Harwin hesitates. He is not supposed to leave you alone and unprotected. Much less, with your uncle. Daemon it’s not known for his trustworthiness.

“With all due respect, Prince Daemon, I am not allowed…”

Your uncle’s eyes flash dangerously at the defiance. You look at Harwin and nod. He leaves.

You twirl your wooden sword. Daemon smirks.

“Commendable.” He gives a slow clap. “Very loyal guard dog, you have there.”

“You could learn a thing or two.” You answer, vicious. The human equivalent of an animal biting down and refusing to release its jaws. By the brief look of hurt on his face, you have touched a nerve.

But soon, his expression smooths down into a vicious little smile, to match yours.

“So this is where you have been disappearing to.”

“So?” You ask, all nonchalance.

“Feisty.” Your uncle kicks Harwin’s discarded wooden sword away and unsheathes his. Whatever this is, it’s long overdone, you realize. You are bouncing with pent-up anger and frustration.

Daemon strikes at you, hard. The flat side of his sword hits your ribs. It hurts even with the protections Harwin makes you wear, a dull sting on your torso.

“If this was a real fight, you would be dead.” His tone is smug. You cannot take it, and so, bang your wooden sword against his hip.

“And you would be unable to walk.”

Your uncle laughs, coldly. He is angry too, you realize. In that messy way he gets, sometimes. Teeth bared in a cocky grin, still high on the thrill of riding Caraxes and chasing Rhaenyra.

“Not bad. I might even bruise.” His tone drips condescension, but there is something odd going on in his face. His pupils are blown, his chest is heaving, and there is no way it’s with exertion. While you were panting and begging for a respite, Daemon hadn’t even worked up a sweat. “You need a real sword.”

“Perhaps. But then Rhaenyra gets one, and this is only mine.” It’s more honest than you would like, but you are still trying to decipherate what exactly he is feeling. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glassy. You feel confused.

“Is that why you want a husband? To have someone only yours?” Daemon suddenly is much closer, twirling the end of your braid between his fingers.

You scoff, and push him away.

“That’s none of your concern.”

You storm inside the Red Keep, scowling. Finally, it seemed, Daemon and Rhaenyra had managed to run you off the castle’s grounds.

The encounter is barely given a second thought. You decide to keep yourself busy for the rest of Daemon’s visit to King’s Landing. Knowing him, he is due to get exiled soon. There is no point in worrying about it.

You fill up your days with activities, be it harassing some tutors, your Septa, or even visiting orphaned children in King’s Landing. That activity is one you and Ser Harwin particularly enjoy. It fills you with joy when you get to run around and play in the mud with your stern guard having no choice but to tag along. You have even caught him smiling when little girls ask to braid his hair.

Things are surprisingly calm. You would have expected your uncle to be involved in a scandal by now. Yet, there are no rumors of him bedding three whores in one sitting, nor there is an irate Otto Hightower asking your father to send him away.

Until one night, you find a jeweled sword resting on your bed. It’s small, but you can tell from the sharpness of the blade that it is made from Valyrian steel. You start training with it the next day, getting used to its weight. If Ser Harwin thinks anything of your sudden interest in doing more than hitting him, he doesn’t show it.

You are not surprised to find your Uncle waiting for you after your morning practice. At first glance, the courtyard is as empty as when you began your training. Despite it, you can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching.

Just as you are entering the Red Keep, sweaty and ready for a bath, Daemon steps out from the shadows.

“You look so grown up in riding attire.” He says, from beneath some trees. “Almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Almost didn’t recognize you, either. No scandal in nearly a month?” You start to loosen your braid, accelerating the process of getting into your bath as you walk. There is nothing you want more than to just soak in hot water and let the warmth wash away your soreness. “You must be getting old.”

“Youthfulness is in the spirit.” Daemons hurries to reach you, falling into step right beside you. You resist the urge to walk faster if only to see him struggle. Power play. Always. Push, and pull, and don’t let anyone else get the upper hand.

“Ah, that makes sense.” You slow down your steps because while you enjoy angering your uncle, you would rather not anger him too much. “You have the spirit of a child.”

“I’ll take that as the highest of compliments.” Daemon ruffles your hair, uncaring that’s matted in sweat. You make a face. “Did you like your gift?”

“Depends.” You give him a feral little grin. Your uncle looks at you, as if deciding whether he wants to bite or not. Knowing him as you do, you know he can’t stand the intrigue.

“On what?”

“How many of Rhaenyra’s necklaces you had to melt to get the sword.”

“That blade is worth at least five of her necklaces.” Daemon boasts. You give him an unimpressed look.

“Huh. Then I like it.”

“Not love it?”

“It wasn’t ten.” And with a cheeky grin, you are off towards your chambers.

You don’t see Daemon for a few days. You hear him, unfortunately. He is everywhere at once, yet never wherever you are. You know of him in the shape of rumors and hearsay.

When you go fetch yourself a tea tray in the kitchen, your uncle is in the middle of the servants. “I heard last night he was with four whores!” As you ask a maid about your sister’s whereabouts, he is her chosen companion. “Princess Rhaenyra went out to race your uncle, Princess.” And of course, when your father complains, Daemon is in the midst of it. “He insulted Otto and then walked out of the council meeting.”

Despite your wishes, your uncle starts to occupy more of your mind’s space than you would like. You keep wondering what he is up to, each rumor more outrageous than the last. You cannot help but wonder if it’s you who was prompted him to wreak such havoc. The idea of having such power over him, that an offhanded comment can cause such a reaction, makes something tingle in your stomach.

You find him next in the gardens. Alicent and Rhaenyra are fighting again, a nasty thing that soon turns into a screaming match. That's a dynamic you have stayed out of, since you had memory. While Alicent and Rhaenyra were friends, you never felt anything towards Alicent besides a slight sympathy. She seemed nice enough, but she was not your friend.

Rhaenyra and you loved in the same way, you see. Possessive, harsh. As Princesses, you never learned to share. You wanted your person to be only yours. Alicent was Rhenyra’s, and so, you stepped aside.

When she married your father, you weren’t exactly pleased. But you had the emotional detachment Rhenyra lacked, being too close to the situation. In time, you had come to understand that it wasn’t like she had a choice, either.

So, it wasn’t like you were going to break with tradition now. To avoid their screams, you had decided to pace the gardens. Daemon seemed to have the same idea because you find him sitting on a bench with a book in his hands.

“Came to join me?” He asks, voice smooth like honey.

“Rather to escape the screeching.” You sit by his side, curiously peering at the book he holds.

“A Cautionary Tale For Young Girls.” Daemon’s smirk is the only thing that gives him away, that, and the fact that the book is written in High Valyrian. “Most illuminating read. You should try it.”

You laugh, despite yourself. His lips twitch into a more genuine smile, less full of smugness and bravado.

“I was getting lonely.” You say, softly. The admission surprises even you. “You are with Rhaenyra all the time.”

Daemon makes a face, as if pained of what he will say next. He seems wary of hurting you. You wonder if that means he cares for you, in his own twisted way. It’s not often he worries about what others think.

“She has a dragon.” No matter how gentle the tone, it hurts anyway.

“I miss her. Not you.” But it’s a lie. You know it’s a bad pattern, and you shouldn’t miss him, but you are so used to competing for affection that Daemon has become both your rival and the one you crave. The weeks without him have been lonely and taxing. No matter if it was you who pushed him away and didn’t care to reach out after.

“I remember you two were close.” Something must change in your face because your uncle reaches toward you, gently squeezing your arm.

“We used to be. She is just… So angry, all the time. And has all these new people. Admires, prospects…” You feel like a fool. There is a deep sense of unfulfillment and being wronged yet at the same time, you know you are being unreasonable. This was always going to happen. You can’t share the Iron Throne, and she has always been your father’s favorite. Rhaenyra was always going to be the heir.

“Which one am I?”

You shrug.

“It's not like I care.” But you do. You do care, despite your best sense. Because you want to be his favorite. You have always wanted to be someone’s favorite, but Daemon has a special brand of devotion for those he cares about. You wish you could be counted on that list, lately. By the smile on his face, Daemon can probably tell. “And it's not like before she didn't have things that were only hers.”

"I thought you shared everything.” Your uncle tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. You lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

“She has Alicent. Had. Still does.” You know when the time comes, Alicent will be there for Rhaenyra. They are tied together by destiny in ways Rhaenyra and you are not.

“The curse of the younger brother.” With your eyes still closed, his hand gently brushing your hair back, the words do not feel as if they are being spoken aloud. The gardens around you feel muffled, distant. Perhaps it’s the soothing touch, or the deep pang of sadness in your chest, but you do not understand what Daemon means.

“I beg your pardon?” You open your eyes, giving him a confused expression. Not only is he muttering nonsense, your uncle is much closer to you than he was before. Daemon’s forehead is nearly pressed into yours, his thumb now gently rubbing across your jawline.

“Viserys and Rhaenyra are the same.” He explains, tracing your cheekbone next. As if he is keen to learn your face from touch alone, carve it on his mind. It makes you smile slightly. The pain from mourning your innocence is very much still there, but it doesn’t feel like it’s tearing you apart. “Just as you and I are the same.”

“I…” You are not sure of what to answer. Naturally, it makes sense. You can feel it in your bones, but you can’t quite articulate the thought.

Daemon’s thumb presses against your lips in a downward motion, closing them.

Just as your lips flutter behind his thumb to answer the proposal, your uncle speaks again.

“We are free, you and I. But the Iron Throne chains them.”

It’s then you realize it was not a proposition, but rather an explanation of the thoughts you were unable to articulate. And perhaps it’s the sting of rejection or the deep sadness that has taken root on you since the death of your mother, but you cannot keep the words in. They come flowing, tumbling, rushing out of your mouth.

“I want to be a girl forever.” You say to him, starting to tear up. “I am not ready to be a woman.”

You are scared, you realize. No longer are you a girl playing to be a woman, dressing up in your mother’s jewels and dresses. Five years down the line, you will be married. Ten, it will be you who is a mother.

Your uncle gathers you into his arms, painfully soft. You would have never believed Daemon capable of such a tender touch.

“You can’t be innocent forever.”

“Everything is so complicated now. I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

You whisper against his neck. It’s a doomed wish. You know already it’s too late for it. No longer are you an innocent, no longer anything is the same. It will never be.

“Not all changes are bad. There can be pleasure in losing one’s innocence.” Daemon kisses your temple. “And I intend to show it to you.”

That night, the two of you sneak out of the Red Keep.

“I wanted to give you something only yours.” Your uncle says, as he leads you down the Street of Silk. Both of you are wearing rough cloaks, for discretion. You cling to his arm, afraid of getting lost in between the strange sights and smells.

There is so much to see and so much to hear. People laughing in the streets, singing, drunkards and patrons from the brothels mixing. While you are familiar with the streets of King’s Landing, you have never seen them at night. It’s both frightening and exhilarating, watching the city come to life in ways new to you.

There are no children in sight, only adults. The message that Daemon hoped to convey by bringing you here is loud and clear. You are no longer a girl, you are a woman. And so, instead of sleeping soundly in your bed as you have done all your childhood, you get to enjoy the wonders of the night.

The crowd gets even more rowdy as you pass the bigger pleasure houses and walk towards the ones that are at the end of the street. Secluded as they are, they spark your curiosity.

“Where are we going?” You ask your uncle, tugging at his arm. “Inside one of those? Why?”

“They cater to tastes that the rest do not.” Daemon comes to a stop in front of one, and takes off his hood. The woman at the doors takes one look at his hair and quickly ushers you both inside a room.

The room is bare except for a couple of chairs and a bed. You examine everything closely, noting the inferior quality of the furniture. These are not the kinds of chairs you are used to, at the Red Keep. After a while, and only when you notice no one else is hiding inside, you lower your hood. Being overly cautious never hurt anyone, after all.

“What tastes?” You squeeze Daemon’s hand. He gives you a puzzled look. “You said they cater to tastes…”

“You will see.” You are saved from the wait to know what he means by the door opening. Two servants, dressed in little clothing, step inside. Men, near your age. They are completely unique, yet similar. You get the feeling they are not simple servants, even though they serve you and Daemon goblets of wine.

You stare. You do not understand why they are not leaving.

Your uncle steps behind you, to whisper in your ear. His arms circle around your waist.

“Look at them.” He presses a chaste kiss just behind your ear. “Really look.”

So you do. One of the men is tall and strong. Almost wide. All bulging muscles. He has dark hair and light colored eyes. The other man is slightly slender, yet strong either way. He has lighter hair and a much sweeter face. They are both handsome, yet you do not understand what game Daemon could be playing.

“You wanted something only yours.” He mutters, kissing the crown of your head. He perches his chin on top of it. “Most girls, they don’t get to choose whom they lose their innocence to.”

It dawns on you then. He wants you to choose one of the men to… Well. It’s a nice thing to do, but so undeniably Daemon it hurts.

Feeling mischievous, you turn around in his grip.

“And I can choose any of the men in this room?” You smirk. Your uncle’s brows draw together, in disbelief.

“That’s the point, yes.” Daemon speaks slowly, as if explaining to someone particularly daft. Or innocent. “I’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”

“Good.” You smirk, and kiss him. You feel him smirk right back against your mouth.

#stunning #10/10 #daemon x reader

1K notes · View notes

foursdarkdays · 1 year ago

Text

i like a girl lol

Sooooooooooooo ummm the title of this rant? would be "i like a girl" lmaooo Soooooo yeah theres a girl i kinda like?? its nothing serious tho but yeah i like her ig, she's not really my type tho but idk . She treats me so well i cant help it. i feel things lol. I keep checking my phone every second of the day (just did again) and it sucksssss. She kinda likes me back? atleast thats what she says . but idk i dont think so. The possibility is too narrow but yeah.

She has a boyfriend lol and its not like i care tbh cause its not like i wanna make her cheat on him something i mean she wouldnt and i wouldnt want her to. Also i know this isjust a phase for her and itll go away soon. for her or for me. Yk know i cant like someone for long especially if i dont see a possibilty of us dating. so yeah im gonna go with the flow rn. She told me that she had a crush on me since months tho but again ahh i dont think so. maybe shes overthinking . maybe she just wants to be my friend.

anywayyy soo im just going with the flow. we flirt a lot. we blush a lot. Thta bitch flirts with othets and makes me jealous lmao dumb fuck and i do the same bwahaah. sooooo yeahhhh i know after whatever this thing is ends im gonna be sad af for 2 weeks i think? cause we talk so much and its gonna be lonely. but again im a pro at moving on soooooooooo

7/10/23 (1:51am)

(im gonna keep adding the rants)

and the best thing about this is that i'm very well prepared for the heartbreak so im sure it wont hurt much lol im actually very sure about that. I always expect the worst in these things so its going to be chill. I'm sure shell come out of this phase soon and it will only be a memory for both of us. mostly in a good away tho. I'm not gonna take this too seriously and just have fun. you're flirting? okay ill flirt back. you're treating me well? ill do the same yeah thats it lol

i have a strong gut feeling that this is gonna end soon like 3-4 days? i dont know. lets see

7/10/23 (18:25)

Oh wow soooo it almost ended that day lollll but then yeah we kinda talked it out? Anyways i feel like something changed after that. I think in a good way? The obsession feelings decreased and maybe the good friendship feelings increased? I honestly have no idea and i should probably stop trying to figure it out lol. Anyway now I'm back and i think she doesn't like me anymore. Maybe I'm just over thinking? But lol nvm let's see how it goes

11/10/23 (2:05am)

Lmao bitch read this post. anyways im gonna act like no one knows about this account. Its soooooo scary i know i've told this before but its just really scary. See i have trust in myself that if IF something goes wrong ill move on fast, OKAY WHY AM I OVERTHINKING AGAIN. lets fuck this. SHES SO CUTE IM SO OBSESSED I HATE HER SO MUCH. ITS SO MUCH FUN TALKING TO HER. even though sometimes i really wanna push her off a cliff but its okay. I wanna write so much but im blank again wtf

14/10/23 (01:48am)

Why do i feel like she hates me now. Maybe she'll finally lose feelings. i mean yeah thats okay and understandable but it'll be too sudden so idk. I'm ready for anything at this point . I wanna text her but i guess ill give her space. I'll just distract myself and sleep. She has nooooooo idea about the amount of over thinking im doing rn. im so sure shes done with me and will never see my face again. lemme prepare myself. Thankfully im veryyy tired so ill fall asleep easily.

14/10/23 (9:22 pm)

i randomly have such sudden outbursts of love for this baby. i want to cup her face and kiss her whole face , i want to hug her to my chest and kiss her head and baby the fuck out of her. She's gonna cringe reading this (please dont). I want to like put our foreheads together and close my eyes and feel it yk??? i sound soooooo weird. Please dont be creeped out

15/10/23 (10;02pm)

I like her so much like so so so so so so much. Its very scary and i know for a fact that i will be hurt later but ugh its sooooo worth it. I'm sooooo happy with her. The feelings keep growing and i dont think im gonna let it stop. its okay ill let it grow. yoloooo sooo ahhhhh. We just had a pubg date sksksksk shes soooooooo ahhhhh. She flirts so confidently , i was panicking behind the pubg call sksknjiuck. anywaysssss ugh I want to kiss her sooooooooooooooooo bad like fuckkkkkkkkkk i wanttttt!!!!!!!!!!!!.

20/10/23 (01:13am)

Hiii so idk bro she says she's more obsessed with me but obviously i disagree. I think i really fell harder lol I mean it's scary af but anyways. Idk she can go for hoursssss without talking to me and be fine and me ? Lolllllll I try to text back whenever I can but she doesn't do that. Maybe I'm asking too much. Okay i should chill out fr. I don't wanna depend on anyone lol. I only want fun stuff here even though i know I'm kinda in deep but anyways it'll be okay. I know she's putting a lot of effort i shouldn't complain. I'm getting more than i deserve anyway. And I AM happy af. I just miss her i guess. I sound sooooo stupid. Ugh I hope she doesn't read this

21/10/23 (17:12)

(23/10/23) 1:40am

She didn't text me back today. But I'm gonna be understanding. I don't want to overthink. Not today . There are so many possibilities and i wanna listen to her . I really want to be understanding. Because i genuinely care . I didn't text her back till 2pm due to some valid reasons tho but anyway I feel calm now. I texted in our gc and she seen zoned but maybe she has her reasons . Let's see . I don't want to think about anything. I really hope she's alright .

It's like i want her to text me about her day and all but then I don't want to expect much i don't want her to do zyada also idk she's already treating me nicely and it makes me happy. Its honestly more than enough and I don't want to be greedy.

23/10/23 (19:12)

okay sooo ummm the reality is hitting me these days. I was okay being the side chick but its really hitting me lol. Its not like she makes me feel that way nahhh she shows that she cares. Its just that idk maybe im only stupid. she flirts with others and sends me screenshots and everytime she does that i lose little feelings. Even though she does that for fun idk. If she keeps doing this, i might actually lose feelings lol idk how to tell her that. I dont wanna bicker or anything i dont have the strenght and anyway she'll be like nooo i do it for fun only because im cool. **heavy sigh** nvm . but should i let her know? communication is good yk. i guess ill try tonight. if she doesnt fall asleep. Okay ill tell her that, rest is her wish lol .

oh yeah btw todays our 1 month anniversary???? ehehehehe

okay she fell asleep, shes really sick so i hope she feels better soon.

but anyway i keep feeling stupid lmaoooooo i need to stop feeling this way and accept it. Thats the only way lol

21:23 (30/10/23)

Wah its been long, soooo umm idk we kinda had a disagreement? i honestly dont know what that was but yeah im 1000% sure that it wasnt my fault. i took my time to write and explain everything but nah i guess shes mad at me? ofcourse she is. we didnt talk the whole day and its kinda driving me crazy but im trying to look normal. I wont text her first , not because i have ego or anything but because im not at fault here. She took things a little too far and i got triggered. But again i did explain her everything like why it triggered me and all because i didnt want any misunderstanding. But yeah shes mad at me for that? i honestly dont know what to do. is this the end of us? i dont want it to end like this. I'm not ready but i also wont text first. She needs to own up to her mistakes. I miss her. I miss her so much . please text me ughh .

its okay i guess. this is like a break for us i think i dont know how this will end up

22:56(7/11/23)

lmao i got on with a lot of thoughts in my head but as usual im black again. sooo i cant stop thinking about her and its scaring the shit out of me. Atp im pushing myself to go out with friends and family just to divert myself from thinking about her lmaooo yeah its that bad. The worst part is even k-pop idols are not helping me this time. Its always her on my mind. But ill try my best to distract myself because i feel very one sided. Its prolly not but kinda is . idk. But i'm also behaving the same way with her ig? i talk about idols and behave like they're the only ones on my mind when its absolutely false. I'm sure its not the same for her tho. she really isnt that whipped for me lol. and thats okay. ill keep trying to calm myself down . BUTTT the more i try the more i think. What do i do?

05:36am (17/11/2023)

we had a talk yesterday and it hit a nerve, It hit a wrong spot and now idk what i feel anymore. It was hurting. My heart felt like it would explode. I felt too much that i dont feel it now. No i'm not over her. It'll take time for sure but something snapped for sure. I'm taking a break today, from her. I need to analyze my feelings and emotions and think. I need to be ready for whatever is about to come. and i will be, Im strong and i can do it.

I never spoke about this or wrote it here but i think i should now. I need to analyze my feelings and write it out. I like her. i like her a lot. It was all happy happy at first, just us flirting. It wasnt that serious. But it did get serious later. A lot of feelings got involved. I know i know that she has a boyfriend and that i am a second option. I know its genuine and she really likes me. But i sometimes i wish the other way around. Everytime she mentions her boyfriend, its like a stab in my heart and reality hits me. I get distant for a bit. idk if she notices. its not her fault tho, I cant talk to people about this because i know what they're gonna say. "its all your fault, you knew she was taken but you still chased her. its all on you. you"re stupid for even hoping or wanting something from a straight taken woman" oh dont even get me started on how much it hurts when she tells me shes straight. Its gives me mixed signals. she says she wants to kiss me, hold me and do things with me and then she says shes straight. see i know sexuality is not an easy thing, it takes a lot of time and courage and thinking to come to a conclusion and tbh its okay even if she doesnt, but i cant stop my feelings and my overthinking. what if she doesnt really like me and its really just a phase shes going through. because im confident about the way i feel. i like women, i like her, romantically , emotionally and sexually.

i want her. i want her so bad even if its for a month, i want to experience how it feels like to be in a real relationship with her but i know its impossible. Like that equation doesnt even exist.

yesterday night, when she told me she loved me. i couldnt say it back. I didnt have enough energy to feel things because my heart was already hurting. Thats why im taking a break from her today, Her calling me baby , princess and whatever cute things she does , its making me feel guilty. She shouldnt do those things for me, but i want it . i dont know what im typing honeslty. i just want her so bad but i know i shouldnt. i NEED to tone down now . from my side, ill take the love shes giving me, also reciprocate. but not more than that because even i feel guilty and shes going through things because of me, she says its worth it but is it? i know that one day both of us will move on from this. I'm pretty sure we're gonna think about this and laugh but right now i want her, But i also dont , But i do. lol.

14:04 (21/11/23)

Hi, lol. I feel so much for her. like so so so so much. what we have is so precious and important to me. i dont want to let her go. As a girlfriend, yeah i guess one day we'll have to part, but as a friend? i dont want to lose her. I may sound greedy but along with her girlfriend(idk what we are but lets pretend im her girlfriend) right now, i also want to be her second best friend. Is it too much to ask ? i mean i guess it is. It hasnt been that long but our emotional bond is too strong and idk if ill ever find it anywhere else. Even if i dooo ugh idk i just want her for a long time. Even after we break up and take our time off, i want her to talk to me. This may sound selfish but yeah. I still want her to come nag to me, complain about things and share her problems, emotions etc. Relationship issues, marital issues, friendship issues, work related issues, family issues, financial issue etc like literally anyyything. I want her to feel comfy with me, I will never force her tho. I just hope things turn out this way instead of us completely falling apart. Because if it breaks , im sure itll take more than 2 years for me to open up tp anyone again. After my last ex best friend , i really shut myself off and it was lonely. I do have friends and i know they are always there for me but i cant open up to them. emotionally. But with her i can. So i want her , need her for a long time. We may drift . life is unpredictable and people change so its okay but i hope both of us try our best. I know she said she ignores and ghosts her close friends when she feels something is off and then they drift apart but i want her to really try for us. Idk if it will be worth it for her but i want her to try because i know i will. unless she wants otherwise. lol why am i having such emotions today? this is the first time im feeling this way. with us i mean. okay ill stop now.

26/11/23 22:30

I think I'm in love lol idk I tried so much to not be 'in' love and to just love her but I think I failed at it. I'm even scared to admit it to myself because I'm a coward. I still don't want to admit it to myself. I love her so much . I feel so stupid for loving someone who loves someone else. I was never like this. What is wrong with me? Idk but can it be helped? No. I know I'll move on in the future and everything will fall into place but right now ugh i love her and I feel stupid af. Like really really stupid. I'm never telling this to anyone tho. They'll make fun of me lol. They won't understand. I myself don't understand anything. I'm giving away so much of myself and it's going to take a lot of time for me to get it back like after we break up. Anyways I hope she gets well soon. She must be in a lot of pain. It hurts to even think that she might be in pain ughhhh stupid**inserts my name* get it together.

Come back soon . I feel like a zombie without you

Lol I just looked at my instgram activity and was wondering why I had spent 4 hours on Instagram yesterday when we didn't even talk. Then I realised that we did. It has only been a day but it feels like weeks? Wtf? What is going on with me. I'm scared I'm so so scared.

28/11/23 (23:43)

Happy 2 months to us lol sksksk anyways I didn't miss her yesterday. Probably because I was dealing with my own shit . Doesn't mean I like her any less. I still care . I hope she feels better soon

30/11/23 (00:19)

I googled the recovery rate and the death rate of dengue and I'm more paranoid now. Maybe I'm crying too much because I'm sick . I cry a lot when I fever like it heightens whatever I feel and now I'm worried about everything. Myself , her ahhh.

This is way too scary. New fear unlocked. I don't wanna say it but ugh just the thought of your loved one not being there hurts lol. I think I'll never move on from it. Never. So dear universe or whoever is listening to me , you've been mean to me these days , there are only 2 things that I want the most right now. The most. And I'll do anything for it. 1. Her getting well soon. 2. I need freedom from my life . Which means moving away to another country. I need these so bad. I don't care if I don't die anymore. I know I've always wanted to die and that was the only prayer in my head but now no. I want these 2 . Please please please. I won't be able to take it please ahh I'm crying again. I'm never getting attached to anyone again.

It's December already, please please please I promise that if these two things happen, I WILL NEVER NEVER EVER think about killing myself again. I promise this. I really really really promise you. But , if not , then that's it. You know I've always wanted to die , ever since 2011, so I'm giving up on this if I get the things I want. Atleast the 1st one. I won't be able to live at all.

Why am I crying so much. It's too much to handle. I feel like the nerves in my head will tear open with the strain. Its been long since I cried so much . I know I'm over thinking but why can't I fucking stop. STOP. Okay I'll just sleep .

1/12/23 (00:05)

I didnt miss her at all these last 3 days but i think i miss her a little today. I suddenly think about her and feel like crying. This is not because i miss her but idk. I feel like every bad thing happened to me at once and my mental health is at stake. 1. her being extremely sick with that deadly virus? whatever it is. 2. My uni thing. 3 me falling sick as well. i cant control my emotions when im sick. especiallllyyyy fever. i feel so weak and that stupid fever aftertaste on my tongue is making me wanna puke. i think im sleeping a lot these days. like 16 hours a day or something, maybe physcial and mental exhaustion is catching up to me. fuck this life . anygays idk i hope something good happens please. i wanna cry again lol. crying feels nice all of a sudden . its all because im sick lol. i guess ugh idk fuck this

i slept on the couch yesterday night, i think ill do the same tonight lol. i always sleep on the couch when im sick i guess??? ah im sleepy again. prolly med effect. ill eat and sleep now. i hope my baby feels almost better tomorrow. wow im sleepy af all of a sudden . no energy i think ill fall off byee

01/11/23 (20:16)

Lol i haven't written in so long ahhh yeah idk it's going okay I guess. We were having a call on gmeet with another friend of mine and she spoke about her boyfriend today. Idk what happened to me and why it happened but I cried wtf? Like wtf?????? Idk what to do anymore. It's reality I know but it's hurting. I know I'm just a ummm what am I again? No one omg fuck this

03:20 (18/11/23)

i love you

22:36(uk time zone) 11/02/24

Ah i need you so bad but i yeah i should be understanding. I’ll be. But know that i need you so bad like emotionally but im not brave enough to text you .

15/02/24 1:14pm

I love you . It feels sad now . When i think about her, my brain makes me sad lol. Whenever i imagine fake scenarios with her my brain keeps constantly reminding me that im just delulu and nothing will ever happen. I already know that but lemme be happy? i keep thinking about the break up that will happen soon when she gets engaged. I know there’s time, there’s a lot of time but i can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like it’s always there at the back of my mind. I just wanna be delulu , carefree and happy. I don’t wanna think much okay bye

29/02/24(2:30am)

I hope you dont see this but I’m so sorry. There are so many thoughts running in my head rn. I feel like im ruining something perfect. i mean you and him. I know nothing will change , yall are the end game and i dont want that to change. But the guilt is hittinf me these days. Am i that bad? Am i that selfish? What am i supposed to do? Shouldi stop? I dont want to stop but i dont want to be so selfish. Am i really a homewrecker? fuck

(12:06)

(PLEASE DONT READ THIS IM BEGGING YOU)

Ouch. That stung. Very bad. Ahh i can feel my heart breaking into pieces and im having a breakdown. I feel so so so helpless. I really can't do anything about this. I have no way out now do i? Please universe please please help me please.

I'll do anything. Hold me from breaking apart every time. I should be used to this by now?

Right? It's been so long. It should be normal. But as the days go by i can't take it. I'm breaking so bad. This is why i hate love so much. Only pain and hurt. But do you think i can let go? No. The most dumb and stupid award should be given to me. I hate everything

6:46 (19/8/24)

I want a day where it doesn't hurt me anymore.

But i guess that day will be the day im not in love anymore and I've completely lost feelings. I dont want that.

7:06

I love myself too much. I want to be happy. I will be happy. Me me me me and only me.

Every time i close my eyes her Instagram story flashes ahhh i want amnesia. I want to hid my head somewhere and lose all my 24 years memories. It hurts THAT much. Or maybe I'm over reacting too much. Its prolly the latter lol ok.

But i know its something she can't help too so lol both of us are helpless. Im just opening up here and she's not. Now i need to give my brain some rest. I'll be offline the whole day to heal

7:47

Why do you keep hurting me so much. Why do you always sabotage us for everything. Every minor inconvenience you get you let it affect us. Bro even on our one year anniversary? Is it not special to you? I’m so hurt but I’m even scared to tell you that.

1/10/24

I’m scared. I’m scared about myself. Will i ever be able to love someone else? I also want to be with someone yk? i wont leave her when i do find someone thats for sure but will i? What if ill be stuck in this forbidden love thing while she gets married and starts a family and moves on? ever since she got engaged i kinda closed myself. I dont want to show love at all . Because i know the nights i spent holding my heart and crying because it was too much to feel. Im trying hard to numb myself because the pain is too much. I feel lost. I’ll love her till she loves me thats for sure. But idk if i can show and give the love that i used to give. Not until i feel okay. Idk if thatll happen? Or maybe once i also get a boyfriend and were both in the same shoes? Maybe? Idk i wanna kms lol and whenever she talls about him my brain goes you’re a back up she doesnt really love you you’re just there and idk ahhhhh kill me. I dont wanna think about this bye

18/2/25 (22:53)

0 notes

just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

Note

hellow sweetheart!! good morning, day, evening and every moment of a day!

'me and you' who is the lizard?..

'i was eating donuts but now im hungry again' my hungry baby TT bon appetit 'im going to get water' MORE WATER!

'Like I think she says Забери меня then' probably? also ig youre listening on spotify and it has the lyrics? does it have translations?.

'like the songs I used to listen to way deep in my emo phase' it is TT i remember listening to in during the noone understands me and im so sad thus so special. lots of teens here do the same so.. it is.

'I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH ITS ON MY SPOTIFY' oooh im glad it made you feel this way. check her (its actually a band but idk if that man even opens his mouth) other songs? lots of them have this vibe.

'I KNOW THAT but also I don’t' hahsja cute. давай actually means give (not the first form though) but also. it means lets [..] (e.g. lets go, lets do) or (it doesnt make actual sense in english so the most accurate translation is) go ahead. didnt you see the translation?.. 'there was a bad word somewhere there and I was right!' HAHDJSHHD i mean.. its cute how determined you were but there no bad words. i never read the whole translation that i sent you. thus i was SO confused bc there no bad words in the song. 'fuck up' is the harsh version? the word used in the song облажаешься is civil and can be translated as screw up, mess up. i did replay this song multiple times and reread the lyrics and was so very confused TT 'But I cant determine which word it is. But I heard it be said' it was an imagination trick. 'i think it would be… blyat?' would u be surprised if i said it is not hghahf. also id say it is more blyat' but nvm. also?? why hed use it?? i mean?? dont you have curse words?...

'like something was being chewed slowly' is it an insult?... tbh i dont like демоны... ig the chorus is the most questionable part for me? i dont like how they sound so... like the modern version of the nerves (suicide of my faith). so emo and pop and all. but i do have a fav song of theirs, Три дня дождя - Перезаряжай. u can also find it in spoty ig

'Are you sure Улицы ждали is the one with the annoying tempo and not Жанна д’Арк' im pretty used to the singers way of singing (DOES IT MAKE SENSE), she uses this trick a lot. my fav of hers is Луна - самолёты. the translation. and while you can say whats wrong with this, can you say whats wrong with the first one? i cant and thats why i have mixed feelings. (idk if you really understand when i use rus titles TT like yeah you can see but foreign letters r difficult to idk? remember? match?)

'is H an N in russian omg my head' HAJDHJ yes. everyone is confused at school. 'she has such a sweet and bright voice' she does! shes lovely. but tbh i dont really like this song?.. maybe ive just heard it for too many times but yeah. in the next playlist im gonna show u the other one of hers witch i like more. wait for it TT

'also is России russia?' Россия is the first form. (Rossiya). why?

'i like her lyrics. i love her' ohh cute. yeah shes lovely. i remember her also becoming popular with this very song in like 2018

'ITS LOWER BUT IT KINDA SOUNDS LIKE IT' NO TT i think this hymn has a similar male voice in the background. and also Зло just has some religious vibes?

'im sorry i just cant' dont be sorry they fucked up.

'Я is it ya' it is. 'kind of have a soft d-ish sound' idk if i really got you but no?.. its just ya. only vowel sounds. (like there IS a consonant sound but its not d, nvm it doesnt matter)

'were fucking stupid. he 99999999999% cheated' when i said im not the one to judge i meant it. like my president is... he was the president before i was born... and he still is... he literally made up new law to stay in this position in 2020... and in belarus it was even more of a meme. they also had their president nearly since USSR. and in 2020 or 21 after lots of demonstrations and obvious societys hatred towards him, after the obviously falsified election, he said that he could make up (draw) even a bigger number of those who voted for him (CLOWN EMOJI). so i understand. its not really that simple people can do something (legal) when it comes to these kind of things. these fcking arrogant men with obsession with power... we hate them

'you should try pilates' ill think abt it, thanks for your care1

'WE HAVE CHISMOSA CULTURE' its probably not the same but 1) ig there are people who discuss the others everywhere 2) ig we have something like that? we have a big weighty number of jokes about old women hangin out w/their old besties talking shit about everyone they see. its not your problem, its just them. 'filipinos love to talk about people as a bonding experience' hehe sounds pretty. like really. it sounds awful, but i like discussing others w/my friends... im not straight up insulting person in person but why not... and it is not their problem, it is MINE. so nothing wrong with them and you and anyone whos being discussed. 'there are no serial killers here cause of this' LADHJFJF i want to believe it! but then why your president...

'#1 basically call me short #2 reduce our similiarities to height' its merely a joke TT i even said sorry. 'got connected to a moderator that was im pretty sure a 13 year old boy' HAHDHDJD deserved. at least now i dont have to wait more than needed bc of your 13 yo prick TT SHDJFH its so funny? why they let him be? 'i’ll stick to fanfics' this prick never leaves me be TT

'talk to you about daemon im like TODAY' i dont mind :) can we talk about daemon? tbh i want to talk abt the darkling💀 am i crazy? but can u blame me?

'where he was named heir way before rhaenyra was born' OMG sounds SO exciting!!!! i feel like you maybe wanted me to comment on it or send some thoughts but 1) i wanna sleep rn and dont want to make extra moves 2) ive said abt my dream with dae being heir and his spouse being the smart and calm one. or not? idk if u even wanted this but now u know?

'i ATE DONUTS TODAY' YAY!

'they live in my bedroom ceiling and they party and go jogging' go jogging HDHJAHF but really... sounds dreadful. id have hysteria in your place... ok i think rats r not as bad as insects. but have them literally above you💀💀 im so sorry girl.. also i just like... hope that grandpa is great) but rat💀💀 hope for your renovation and hope youll be good and comfy and all. its good to know abt your house, though!

'you actually also dont know what your height' but i do... i just dont know how to use this fcking system TT im 178 cm thats all i know. why do u (they?) even use it TT its stupid TT

i wanted to share some of my fav songs but i want to sleep (and thats the person who needed to do lots of things today but didnt... disappointed but not surprised). do u know the hatters? its a russian band whos also close friends with little big. theyre so talented TT i love the hatters so much TT i think you may find their music interesting? they use ethnic instruments so it sounds.. like it. 'russian style' was really popular back then (watch the mv!). its pretty but my favs are Только позови, Наружу изнутри, Не услышала, maybe youll find them in spoty or yt but dont worry if you dont want to. it ok. me too TT

so! have a nice day/evening/night! take care2 drink water! love u<з

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

OMG MY CAT WHEN HE GOT A MOUSE T_T HE JUST SCARED IT TO DEATH AND PLAYED WITH IT fr we had to eventually .... kill the mouse ourselves because T_T bro was made into a toy by jinjin

hellow sweetheart!! good morning, day, evening and every moment of a day!

HELLOOOOOOOOO ITS 10 AM and i helped my grandma chop vegetables. have i ever told you about my problem with the onions? T_T I cry so much when i cut them T_T her fridge doesn't get rid of the onion crying effect even after its been in there for a while, but our fridge WHICH IS SO BIG AND SHINY AND NEW gets rid of all the onion crying effects. i think it was 2 days ago. she made me chop so many TINY FRICKIN ONIONS and i was crying so bad my eyes hurt so bad but then i looked in the mirror and i was like DAMN I STILL LOOK HOT but also my entire face was covered in tears and PAIN. i was like i look like i had a bad break up.

have i told you about taho?

i have this almost every morning T_T its so good and yummy and warm. its.... tofu?????????????????????? HAHAHH its like the white is made really soft soy, then it has tapioca pearls or sago, then the dark brown is called arnibal, which is like a sugary syrup. i think you will love it. i high school there was a taho vendor by our campus and everyday i would buy a cup for myself. now there is a taho vendor that comes to our house/street and sells taho <3 and i love taho <3 also he always says im 'the pretty grandchild' HAHHAHHHHA lol

'me and you' who is the lizard?..

you can be the lizard because youre cold HAHAHAHAH

'i was eating donuts but now im hungry again' my hungry baby TT bon appetit 'im going to get water' MORE WATER!

yes i got more water! but also i would like more donuts now (: but its ok its my sister's birthday today so we're going to buy CAKE!!!! WOW

'Like I think she says Забери меня then' probably? also ig youre listening on spotify and it has the lyrics? does it have translations?.

T_T MY LOVE I AM SO SORRY I JUST ALSHFLASHFASFH I FORGOT TO EXPLAIN WHAT I MEANT WITH THIS ASLHASFDHASDAS I FEEL SO BAD LASHFASLFHSHFSAF I DIDNT MEANT TO JUST SAY

~Like I think she says Забери меня then it goes up half notes to the tonic then she sings the next part~

but i forgot T_T BASICALLY you know the do re mi fa so la ti do? that is called a scale and the syllables you say in that scale are called so-fa syllables. now. the tonic is the home key or the first note in a scale. in our example that is 'do'. if i started with re, (re mi fa so la ti do re) then the tonic would be re.

here it is on a piano. the letters below it is its key degree equivalent, basically do=c, re=d, etc. now so that i have a visual, do going to re is considered a whole step because of the black key between them. re to mi is also a whole step because of the black key between them. but mi and fa is a half step because they dont have a black key between them.

so when i said in Забери меня the melody travels halfstep up to the tonic, she was on la then to the black key then to ti. i actually played it on piano and she actually started on the tonic then went up HAHAAH cos the tonic in her song is actually La LOLL so if that confused you im sorry and if this is still confusing let me just give you a kiss.

ASH:LFHASHSA HAHAHHAHH SAME WE ARE SO SAME

'I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH ITS ON MY SPOTIFY' oooh im glad it made you feel this way. check her (its actually a band but idk if that man even opens his mouth) other songs? lots of them have this vibe.

I WILL! but not rn HHHAAH

i saw the translation but i was trying to figure it out with the context of other times i heard someone day давай and so i googled what it meant and i was very confused

'there was a bad word somewhere there and I was right!' HAHDJSHHD i mean.. its cute how determined you were but there no bad words. i never read the whole translation that i sent you. thus i was SO confused bc there no bad words in the song. 'fuck up' is the harsh version? the word used in the song облажаешься is civil and can be translated as screw up, mess up. i did replay this song multiple times and reread the lyrics and was so very confused TT 'But I cant determine which word it is. But I heard it be said' it was an imagination trick.

LOL HAHHAHH i see so if its not a bad word, can i say that to elderly people and they wont slap me? cos if i cant i think that counts as a bad word

'i think it would be… blyat?' would u be surprised if i said it is not hghahf. also id say it is more blyat' but nvm. also?? why hed use it?? i mean?? dont you have curse words?...

my older brother is stupid. also he likes russian culture cos ig its memey? idk he like playing online games and likes history and he's just drawn to stuff like that ????? IDK

'like something was being chewed slowly' is it an insult?...

iTS NOT AN INSULT ITS JUST AN OBSERVATION. its what is sounds like to me, at least this song did as its slowed. im sorry if you were offended by that.

tbh i dont like демоны... ig the chorus is the most questionable part for me? i dont like how they sound so... like the modern version of the nerves (suicide of my faith). so emo and pop and all. but i do have a fav song of theirs, Три дня дождя - Перезаряжай. u can also find it in spoty ig

oooh i like this song! very pop punk as well

idk what's wrong with the first one T_T maybe just a manner of preference T_T AHAHAHH i will listen to this song later i have to get ready for school lol T_T AHHA

'is H an N in russian omg my head' HAJDHJ yes. everyone is confused at school.

HAHHAHHHHAA LOL

'she has such a sweet and bright voice' she does! shes lovely. but tbh i dont really like this song?.. maybe ive just heard it for too many times but yeah. in the next playlist im gonna show u the other one of hers witch i like more. wait for it TT

ok HAHAH its a nice song. but its nothing compared to that evil one HAHAHAHA

'also is России russia?' Россия is the first form. (Rossiya). why?

idk it was in the lyrics so HAHAH

'i like her lyrics. i love her' ohh cute. yeah shes lovely. i remember her also becoming popular with this very song in like 2018

<3 good for her SLAY

'ITS LOWER BUT IT KINDA SOUNDS LIKE IT' NO TT i think this hymn has a similar male voice in the background. and also Зло just has some religious vibes?

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHHAHA RELIGIOUS VIBES ok whatever im cray

'im sorry i just cant' dont be sorry they fucked up.

ALSFHALSHFASFH AFHT_T OK HAHAHA

'Я is it ya' it is. 'kind of have a soft d-ish sound' idk if i really got you but no?.. its just ya. only vowel sounds. (like there IS a consonant sound but its not d, nvm it doesnt matter)

HAHHAHA OK OK

T_T huhuhuhhuhh my love we should run away together. T_T

'you should try pilates' ill think abt it, thanks for your care1

HAHHAHAHHA <3 LETS GO

ASHFLASFHASFHSFHSALFHFLHASLFHASFHASFAHSF YOURE SO RIGHT WHY IS MY PRESIDENT PRESIDENT WITH CHISMOSO CULTURE FUCK also AHAHHA its so funny that you find talking about people as a bonding experience pretty HAHAAH

'#1 basically call me short #2 reduce our similiarities to height' its merely a joke TT i even said sorry.

T_T ok i love you

'got connected to a moderator that was im pretty sure a 13 year old boy' HAHDHDJD deserved. at least now i dont have to wait more than needed bc of your 13 yo prick TT SHDJFH its so funny? why they let him be? 'i’ll stick to fanfics' this prick never leaves me be TT

WHAT I WANT TO WRITE KYLO REN FICS also ive been traumatized by that kid person thing T_T im glad my SUFFERING is funny for you

'talk to you about daemon im like TODAY' i dont mind :) can we talk about daemon? tbh i want to talk abt the darkling💀 am i crazy? but can u blame me?

omg we can talk about the darkling. we can also talk about daemon obviously <3

i dont want you to comment on it per se but i love hearing your comments, i just wanted you to know i had this in mind HAHAH. im down to hear whatever you want to tell me my love

'i ATE DONUTS TODAY' YAY!

HAHAHHAH i have some horror stories about my house. how do you feel about hearing scary stuff that happened to my mom and grandma before AHAHAAH. also idk HAHAH ive gotten used to the rats AHAHHAAHAHA

'you actually also dont know what your height' but i do... i just dont know how to use this fcking system TT im 178 cm thats all i know. why do u (they?) even use it TT its stupid TT

idk all i know is a lot of people around me dont know about their height. also ... maybe i dont either [confusion intensifies]

i'll listen to these when i get home from school. <3 they sound really interesting. i love it when people use ethnic instruments <3 so underrated. i dont know them but i will listen to them for you <3

so! have a nice day/evening/night! take care2 drink water! love u<з

i love you <3 my head hurts now because of the heat again so im going to shower and go to school. T_T

make good choices and take care of yourself

xxx

#slavyanskiyahui cutie #my beloved anons #modern!daemon anon #ask #modern!daemon nonnie

0 notes

icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

Text

Easier In Greece

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe's in an interesting stage of life when he's offered an equally interesting project. You whisk him off to Greece and spend eight days together on a boat with high expectations of which none turn out to be true. CW / disclaimer: rpf (don’t read if this makes you uncomfy), fem!reader, brief mention of claustrophobia, dead octopuses, fish touching you, Joe loses those sunglasses - no nvm its all silly shit, you'll be fine

Author’s note: this is so completely out of my comfort zone, and i felt weird all throughout writing it, but i had kind words of @ghostinthebackofyourhead to coach me through - hope you liiiiiike, replies and reblogs are appreciated!

Wordcount: 7.9K

Again, Joe and love didn’t meet, even though he so desperately had hoped that this had been it.

The one.

It very muchly hadn’t been, and in hindsight, he didn’t really know why he’d ever thought it was.

Now in his late twenties, Joe decided to stop and have look at the stats. Maybe an industry party wasn’t the best location to take time to reflect, but the stunning woman who just shot Joe down forced him into looking inwards for a second.

What am I doing wrong? Joe thought.

Unsurprisingly, Joe concluded that the stats weren’t good at all.

So, just for now, for the foreseeable future, the summer at least, Joe was done with women. Sure, they’d be all shiny and smiley in ads, on Instagram, in films… but those same women would never come over to his flat and just sit on his Ikea sofa with him after a long day’s work.

Looking back, Joe realised that he’d chosen a tactic that felt oddly similar to what American boxers call dope-a-rope; no matter how hard your competition, or even yourself, tries to get you down, you won’t actually get down until you hit yourself in the face. At least, that’s what Joe thought dope-a-rope meant, anyway.

Failed first dates, failed second dates, situationships that never turned into relationships, relationships ending over all sorts of different reasons – Joe forgot about them fast, in hopes that he’d know exactly what to do when he’d finally run into her; the one.

Joe was young still, you know, if you asked anyone older, but he already had enough of all of this bullshit.

So. Bye, ladies.

That’s what he decided would be the right plan for him that night. Tell love goodbye. Easy enough to say it aloud, and it was a decision that after four drinks felt totally right, but Joe hadn’t anticipated what it meant to actually try to stick with it.

He felt a bit like a mad, distraught toddler whose balloon had just popped.

When he saw the head of Olivier Magazine walking up to him, someone he met previously and wouldn’t really consider a friend, but he had some pictures to show that they at least knew each other, he decided to take it all out on him.

“Matthew,” Joe started when he walked into earshot.

“Joe,” he replied, unaware of Joe’s intentions. “Good to see you, mate. I’m going to call you tomorrow with a real fun project for you.” And then Matthew walked right past him, leaving Joe without words.

The next day, hungover-Joe got the phone call.

“Joe, it’s Matt, say… you’re a single man, aren’t you?”

“… yes.”

Then the conversation had taken a surprisingly strange turn. A journalist had a spread in mind for Olivier Magazine with a very specific focus: tour companies for single people who invite ambitious travelers on somewhat of a budget who are looking to meet and connect with like-minded people while exploring new and exciting places along the way. She really wanted to focus on single men. The trip abroad would more so just be the background for it.

It sounded like an accumulation of every nightmare Joe had ever had.

“I’m sure you’ll appreciate the break, and we’ll get some fantastic photos taken!”

Joe listened to Matt’s pitch as he swiftly opened his laptop where he googled the name of the journalist that he’d mentioned. It only took a couple of seconds for Joe to find himself staring at a picture of you. A pretty girl, around his age, smiling at him like those women did in the ads, and on Instagram.

“You-” Joe interrupted Matt who still was in the middle of talking about how beautiful the Mediterranean Sea was this time of year. “-are not being serious, are you?”

About a week later, Joe got an e-mail from you. “Hey Joe, have you heard? We’re going to go on a trip together.”

Day One: London to Athens

Greece was where you were taking Joe. The place where Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, left her footsteps in the sand. It was precisely the wrong thing to tell Joe upon first meeting him, but you didn’t know, and he also didn’t let on.

You were looking at an eight-day boat trip with Joe, and you still weren’t sure how you’d gotten Olivier roped in on it. The idea seemed too bold to even be taken seriously at all, but maybe that was exactly why Matthew had decided to go for it. And he knew just the guy for it too.

Had Joe not accepted to go on this trip with you for you to write about single men on trips designed for single people, you probably still would’ve been sat at home, hoping that maybe another magazine would have only even considered listening to you talk about your ideas for original spreads to grace their pages.

But Joe had accepted, and now you were both on a boat from the organisation One Wave that was a lot smaller than you had expected. The captain of the boat, nicknamed Mr Wave by you, but never when he was around, had told you about the 2500 Greek islands and about the same number of singles that had been on the very boat you’d be staying on.

You had only just met a couple hours earlier, a quick handshake before boarding the plane in London. There had been some pleasantries e-mailed back and forth to at least try to get some knowledge of who either of you were before venturing out across Europe together, but it had all been quick, shallow words on screens. It was entirely different to be able to look into Joe’s eyes when you spoke to him.

Joe was charming.

Maybe not exactly your type, but... something oozed from him that you hadn’t been able to witness through his e-mails.

You were relieved to find out that you weren’t sat together on the flight. There was no need for small talk, or other awkward conversation. And from your seat, you had a pretty good view of him, which was even better. It gave you a chance to scope him out a little, see how he treated the flight attendants, the people he was sat near, what he’d do if the plane was to plummet over France somewhere and crash… all for the article you’d write, of course.

When Matthew said that Joe Quinn was game for your plans, you’d silently cursed at him.

An actor?

A single actor?

One who was on pretty much every guest list of every award show right now?

Big ask for him not to be absolutely full of himself.

But so far, he seemed fine. Normal. Almost a little boring.

To be able to take off on the boat, you were going to have to find it first. A difficult task on the first night in a country of which neither of you spoke or could even read the language.

It was dark and the harbour was larger than you thought it’d be. Joe was using the flashlight on his phone to shine at every boat’s name in hopes of accidentally finding the right one within the first few minutes.

You were surprised that you felt a little responsible for your travel buddy – this whole thing had been your idea, and had you had more time to prepare, you’d have taken Joe to the right boat immediately.

Joe had been gracious enough during your search to offer to carry your bag. He immediately regretted helping out when he felt the weight of it as he threw it over his shoulder, but he didn’t mention it.

Joe was happy you weren’t as shy as he would’ve been in this situation had he been in your shoes. You had no issue asking for the right way a million times, using hands and feet to signal what you were looking for, until you finally pinpointed the correct boat.

When you finally set foot on board of the boat named Paris – named after a Greek Prince that seduced the beautiful Helena, or kidnapped her, depending on how much of a feminist you were – you met the other travelers.

Tim, who brought his six-year-old son, which was weird. It made Joe and you look at each other funny, clearly thinking the same thing.

Dan, a guy from Manchester who kept saying, “Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, but,” before everything he said.

And Martin, the owner of the boat and thus your captain for the week.

There were other guests, more of them, who weren’t sat on deck; either already asleep inside, or still on their way over.

The two of you would obviously also be sleeping on the boat. That led to one of those things Joe hadn’t even fully thought of yet: sleeping arrangements.

Did you want a small, tiny room with bunkbeds originally designed for two children? Or did you want to sleep in the one double bed left located in the front of the boat?

Joe swallowed hard when he looked at you, the choices echoing in his mind. Stay in a bed, with you? Joe might have bid farewell to love, albeit temporarily, he was still a man.

“Joe?”

“It’s your call.” ever the gentleman.

And after a quick tour and a swift look at the options, it was an easy choice to make. There was no way the bunkbeds were going to fit Joe’s legs.

“We’ll take the double bed.”

Day Two: Athens to Epidaurus

The mornings were busy on the boat. Besides the guests you met the night before, you got to meet the other passengers of the Paris. Charlie, Martin’s son Jesse, who happened to also be Charlie’s best friend, and two older lovers, Daisy and Frank.

It’s entirely not the vibe you thought you’d find on this trip, island hopping in Greece, being amongst travelers on the lookout for other singles to meet and mingle with. There was a child and a couple within your group, and it threw you for a loop.

This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for your multiple page opinion piece that would feature stunning photographs (you imagined, they hadn’t been taken yet) of a bronzed Joe Quinn, an open white shirt loosely hung over his shoulders, billowing in the wind on a luxurious yacht, with a deep blue sea and Grecian islands in the background.

The mental image of it had been so dreamy, but this felt a bit like a weird family trip with a bunch of relatives who had seen you last when you were in diapers still.

You learned later that the couple was only there because the divorced Frank had already booked the trip before he’d met Daisy through online dating, and he hadn’t been able to get a refund. They were very apologetic about it. What was worse, and not entirely clear to Joe and you just yet, was that Frank and Daisy had immediately taken a liking to the both of you because they thought they weren’t the only couple there.

There were other boats from One Wave, and when you bobbed out of the harbour onto the open sea, you could see that there were at least eight of the same boats, traveling alongside you. There wasn’t enough wind to let the sails down, but that was alright. Slowly hours passed as you passed the islands, sun beaming down, sunscreen thick on your nose and tops of your shoulders.

As a journalist, you’d decided to use your skills to get Joe talking.

When you sat down next to Joe on the edge of the boat near the front, legs dangling over, catching splashes of the seawater below, Joe hadn’t expected your approach to have been teaching him an unasked lesson about time and space.

“So, think of this,” you said. “There’s no time. It’s not there, doesn’t exist.” Your facial expression was utterly serious as you rambled about past, present and future all stacked on top of each other. You tried your hardest to get a reaction out of Joe. “Really, the universe just has its way to take care of you, trust me.”

Joe wasn’t convinced. What you’d hoped would’ve happened was that Joe would’ve either outrageously agreed or disagreed with you. It held the opportunity to either dive deep into a philosophic chat or would have the two of you bickering. Either one would’ve given you food for thought for your article.

What you hadn’t anticipated is where Joe took it.

Humour.

After three minutes you had to ban him from making further jokes about it.

After a full day of getting to know everyone, you all stepped off your boats in Epidaurus around four in the afternoon. Adding all the other boats and their passengers to your group, you ended up in a company of about thirty people.

The group held more men than women, but to your surprise, there were also women in their thirties who had brought their children along. And over dinner and drinks you learned that Dan, from your boat, also had a son around the same age as Tim’s he had wanted to bring along. It was due to a miscommunication with his ex-wife that that hadn’t happened.

Joe caught Dan looking at Tim’s boy with sad eyes and had cleared his throat loudly before changing the subject over to Jesse and Charlie, the two lads in their earlier twenties.

Unbeknownst to you, Joe found himself to have a lot in common with them when they talked about girls, and how they had given up on them for a bit. The chat at your table turned almost therapeutic; everyone shared why they were single, and it was all different, but all complex.

You didn’t share, and neither did Joe. No one pressed it, which was nice.

And then it dawned on you.

People go on these trips more so to avoid couples all together.

To not be surrounded by public displays of affection from lovey-dovey coupled-up friends and family.

To be on a trip where you’re not the third or fifth wheel amongst them.

To be in a group of like-minded people and to just hang out together.

It’s why there were children there too – how lovely must it be to take a trip with other single parents who share the same hardships as you? The whole world suddenly seemed to be catered towards couples only, unfairly so.

You felt like you discovered a secret treasure not meant for your eyes. Your revelation blew fresh air into your passion project, right there at the dinner table, and you tapped away in your notes app on your phone to capture as much of your trail of thought as you could.

When you noticed Joe peeking over you shoulder, you shoved him away.

“Are you not meant to be writing about me?” Joe smirked, having caught some of what you were writing down.

“I was.” You said pointedly, closing the app and putting your phone down.

Day Three: Epidaurus to Poros

For the second time, Joe woke up next to you which ultimately wasn’t as weird as he thought it would have been.

Should have been.

You both were very adult about it together. But sometimes a bigger boat would pass, and it’d make your boat dance over larger waves. Not an issue, maybe a little nauseating, but it meant that you’d accidentally touch a lot in the night. You were both level-headed about it though. Definitely well-trained professionals. Joe tried to think of another job where people had to sleep in the same bed, for several nights, in sticky Mediterranean heat after hanging out in swimwear all day.

Nothing came to mind.

It hadn’t just been the sleeping arrangement that had helped grow the sense of familiarity between the two of you fast. Standing in one of the tiny bathrooms of the boat, you were both brushing your teeth, and Joe wasn’t sure why or how he felt this was a totally normal thing to do, but he’d lean over your shoulder to spit into the sink for which you would then turn the tap on to wash it away.

Professionals.

You started that day with a big sigh. There was a bus excursion planned to a museum in Epidaurus, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I’m not a huge fan of seeing things,” you protested with a shrug. It was a weird hill to die on, entirely made up of lies. You were just moody. “Things are places. I get it.”

It made Joe remember why he’d sworn off love.

“So, don’t come then.” Joe tried.

“No, no,” Another sigh. “I’ll come.”

Women.

When you got to the museum, Joe didn’t understand how you were still fun to be around when grumpy. He wondered if he was fun to be around, just so that this trip would at least be a little bearable for you, but you hadn’t mentioned anything to Joe about it yet, so he figured he was fine. You seemed the type of person to tell him straight away if he was boring, and he kind of liked that about you.

Because the old Greeks didn’t have microphones, obviously, the museum you had set foot into was known for its acoustics. Every room had been designed for sound to travel. When Charlie and Jesse had gleefully decided to test it by singing Sweet Caroline, they had your entire group join in within seconds.

“Hands… touching hands… reaching out… touching me… touching you…”

They became louder and rowdier, dancing now too, arms reaching and touching each other. Smiles grew bigger when no one seemed to stop them. The other tourists there however did not seem very happy with the disruption, and Joe saw you take a few steps away from the group.

“Having fun?” Joe yelled, trying to speak over the echoing voices practically shouting the chorus, half of them adding boisterous ‘so good, so good, so good’ whilst punching the air to fill the short silence in between. Meanwhile Dan had found a table to drum the beat onto as others clapped.

“This is really embarrassing,” you mouthed at Joe, seeing the judgmental eyes from strangers that hurriedly left the room you were in. It only prompted Joe to be more embarrassing as he tried to rope you back into the group with cheesy dance moves and singing in a comically deep voice.

And you couldn’t actually believe it, but something about the joy that Joe could let shine from his eyes made you give in and join them in their antics.

After that, things got better.

Your mood got better.

Especially when you found a hotel where everyone was allowed a five-minute shower. It was likely to be the last good shower that you would get for the week.

That afternoon you sailed your way over to Poros, and you were struck by how much every single place you visited looked like it wasn’t real. Too picturesque. As if built for multi-million Hollywood films.

Poros, Martin told you, had a boulevard, so you could go shopping if you wanted to. Immediately excited, you helped dock the boat, having learnt a thing or two by now. You managed to jump of the boat swiftly, and caught the ropes thrown at you with ease, quickly tying them onto the thick hooks meant for them.

When Joe helped you get back onto the boat, something happened that made him feel for you: your sunglasses fell into the water. Joe watched them slowly sink deeper, and he was touched by how much the two of you were alike. Losing your sunglasses in the water was something so typical for Joe to do.

“Quick! Get them!” you called out, but Joe looked into the clear water and saw how they were already so close to the bottom. The two of you just watched as they hit the sand.

“Shit,” you muttered. “Those were such a good pair, too. Now you’ll have to get new ones.”

Hang on a minute, what?

Confused, Joe reached for the top of his head.

“Oh.”

Those sunglasses weren’t yours.

They were Joe’s.

Losing sunglasses in the water wasn’t something Joe would do. It’s something he did.

You spent the afternoon walking the boulevard and perching pairs of sunglasses on Joe’s slightly sunburned nose, in search of finding a pair that you both liked on him.

“What about these ones?” Joe asked you and turned his face so you could see.

You looked up from your phone at him shortly.

“Those are nice.”

And to be fair, you liked most of them on Joe, but Joe wasn’t as easy. He was after a pair similar enough to the ones he’d lost and took the job seriously.

“Listen, I know you’re here to do a job,” Joe placed his hand over your phone and pushed it down slightly. “But right now, your job should be to tell me how beautiful I look in these instead of writing about it.” Joe joked, and it was enough to make you laugh and slide your phone back into your pocket.

“You look stunning.”

“Okay, I’ll get them.”

Day Four: Poros to Vathy

“You’re single because you don’t know how to have a proper argument,” a friend of Joe had told him before he’d gone on this trip.

Joe had heard so many sentences start with “You’re single because…” but this was a new one. And Joe had agreed. Joe was quick to admit he’d been wrong, even if he hadn’t been, would just listen to complaints and then adapt, giving the other person no pushback. It was just easier that way.

This trip, however, wasn’t the time to practice arguing for the sake of getting better at it and perhaps enhancing his luck in relationships.

On the boat you laughed a lot.

The way you’d envisioned all of you to be a weird make-shift family had kind of become reality in the best sense of the word. You had revealed to be a journalist who was merely on the trip to write about it, and it had intrigued everyone.

Charlie and Jesse had immediately come up with pseudonyms for themselves: Charlie would be Jesse, and Jesse would be Charlie. It was such a stupid joke; it had left you giggling just thinking of it hours later.

Joe had then also told them that he was there as your subject, which made it sound as if you held full power over him. You realised then that you sort of did and wondered if that was how Joe had felt the whole time you’d been around each other. You hoped he hadn’t, knowing it would be so much nicer if Joe would just be fully himself without also keeping busy doing guesswork as to what you’d write about him later. Plus, you’d kind of grown fond of the Joe you had gotten to know, so imagining him not being fully himself stung a little.

Once you got off the boat and stepped into Vathy, your legs felt wobbly stepping onto land. “Sea legs,” you said when grabbing hold of the closest thing to you to find your balance.

“Here.”

The closest thing had been Joe, and he held out his arm for you to link yours through for your walk.

More of your company felt their legs had to get used to being on steady ground again, and Martin had given you the advice to go for a run around the island. It would get jitters out, but more importantly pump oxygen into your muscles which would prevent funny legs later in the trip.

The sun was high in the sky, and Joe really didn’t want to work out, but after lunch you managed to talk him into it by challenging his ego. He threw it right back at you; there was no way you would be able to keep up with him, that’s obviously why he hadn’t wanted to go running with you at first, but if you really insisted on learning how slow you really were, you were Joe’s guest.

Joe mentally took back every joke he made when he later saw you fighting up a hill in the blearing heat of the late afternoon.

On your run together through winding, sandy lanes you were stopped twice by sheep and cows crossing the street. It was almost ridiculous how cliché it all felt, but Vathy really was more beautiful than you’d seen online. On your left you were looking down at the sea where the light was dancing on the waves like liquid diamonds.

Far from the harbour, more out to open sea, a dozen or so shapes bobbed up and down on the water, and with their shiny black bodies, they could easily be mistaken for seals. But if you looked closer, you’d see they were surfers waiting, watching for their next wave.

You had pointed them out to Joe, but secretly, Joe only had eyes for you.

Maybe it was just the air up there, Joe hoped, but you were so pretty like this.

Sweaty cheeks, lips flushed, chest heaving.

Joe didn’t mind you taking the lead, running two, three steps ahead, turning into side roads and deciding which way to go. It gave him all the more opportunity to look at you.

When you stopped for some water, body pumping with endorphins, you noticed how Joe’s white T-shirt was drenched in his sweat, its white fabric now translucent enough for you to see his nipples through.

Seeing them like this was inherently funnier than seeing them when Joe would be topless, swimming, diving off the boat and climbing back on only to dive off again.

You smiled through heavy pants and after screwing the top back onto your water bottle, you used a finger to poke him right in one of his nipples before scurrying off, continuing your run.

Day Five: Vathy to Perdika

Today you were harshly reminded you were on a business trip instead of a family holiday when you were called by Olivier Magazine. There was only just enough reception for you to take the call and talk through the material you had so far.

You’d snuck into the bedroom for it, so others wouldn’t hear, but you’d forgotten the hatch window in the ceiling that opened to the deck where Joe was laid out to sunbathe.

“Not yet, I don’t want it too forced, you know? I’ll have to sneak a few,”

“I could just use my phone,”

“Yea, I have it, it’s just huge,”

“Not really… but, yea, no, okay,”

“Okay, I will.”

Joe didn’t like how you sounded defeated as you ended the call, but moved over quickly, away from the hatch window.

When you stepped out in a shy-making short dress, carrying a big camera, Joe understood you’d been given an awkward task. It was absolutely impossible to sneak pictures of him with that, so he decided he’d help out.

“Ooh, give that to me!” he held out a hand from all the way across the boat, encouraging you to make your way over and hand him the camera. Joe took it like a child would take a toy, turned it on and immediately started playing with settings, taking test shots of his feet dangling over the edge.

You internally sighed with relief and thought of what else your writing should include. Joe’s helpful demeanour, for sure.

You let Joe play with the camera, warning him not to drop it from the boat like he had done his sunglasses, forcing him to wear the strap around his neck at all times, and you made your way back into the cabin.

It was time to get some words out, from your phone and from your brain onto your laptop and hopefully in a coherent enough manner to get some of it over to Olivier for feedback.

So, you sat down opposite the kitchen and organised everything you needed.

You could hear people laugh up on the deck, and you imagined them posing for photos Joe was taking of them. It took some pressure off, knowing Joe had fun without you meant you could just sit inside for a bit to get work done.

It had been over two hours when you heard the camera’s shutter a lot closer to you than you felt was possible with you being the only one inside. You looked up from your laptop to see a hand holding it stuck through a hatch window in the ceiling, lens pointing at you. You smiled but said you’d delete that later. It was met with loud groans from the deck, followed by Daisy who told the boys to leave you alone. Another 45 minutes passed.

“Jesse, you’re lowering the anchor in three minutes!” Martin called out as he stepped down the ladder into the cabin.

“Have you ever snorkelled before?” he asked you as he reached for a cabinet, revealing a pile of different kinds of goggles inside.

You didn’t think you’d ever felt more claustrophobic in your life, breathing through a tube with your face down under the water. The fact that the water was clear enough for you to see how deep it was really didn’t help.

And even though very pretty, fish would get very close to you and you didn’t want to touch them.

“Come here,” Joe swam over when you’d sputtered and coughed again as you attempted another go at it.

“You know how to float on your back, right? It’s the same, but face down.”

And Joe’s hands guided your body as his legs kicked underneath him to keep himself above water. He placed one hand on your stomach that pushed up slightly.

“That's it.”

His other hand was for you to grip onto, because panic hadn’t left your system yet and Joe held onto it until you’d gotten the hang of it.

Day Six: Perdika to Korfos

Joe was sixteen when for the first time something happened in his life that was love-related. He was sitting on a bench and had been inches away from kissing a girl. He could still see himself sitting there, but strangely enough he really couldn’t remember for the life of him if he got to actually kiss her that afternoon, or not.

It was a thought that was wrecking his brain whilst laying out to tan on the Paris.

You were next to him, and you were reading – or at least, holding onto a book, but away from everyone else, you fell into easy conversation together.

Joe talked about the girl on the bench when he’d been sixteen.

Your chats had been borderline forgettable on day one, but nearing in on a week later, your chats had gotten deeper, and Joe fed you information for your piece.

You wondered if you should mention that nothing was off the record with you as Joe’s chats got more private, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment and shut him up.

Joe talked about the women from the ads, Instagram and films and how none of them ever found themselves sat in his living room. How he’d been shot down as he had tried to flirt with someone at an industry party where he’d ran into Matthew.

You were at that party too, but you refrained from telling Joe.

You hadn’t seen him, but it stung a little that he’d been there and had been willing to flirt with strangers. You could’ve been one of them. You remembered Matthew telling you that night that he had green-lit your pitch, and you’d gotten plastered.

Who knows what would’ve happened had actually ran into him that night.

To break the tension a little, Joe pointed a passing boat.

“Look,” he said. “That’s what I think–” and then Joe looked at you before sarcastically adding a side comment, “way, way, after you of course,” you raised your eyebrows and looked in the direction of Joe’s pointing finger. “– is a pretty lady.”

“Are you joking?” you couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was entirely too predictable.

Joe’d pointed out a gorgeous blonde girl who couldn’t have been older than 20 at most, wearing a bright pink shimmery bikini with a huge sunhat that shaded her face perched on top of her head.

Of course he thought she was beautiful; she was textbook pretty.

“If that’s your type I want to formerly apologise for you not having met any on this trip.”

You turned over onto your stomach, letting the sunbeams dance along your back to even out your tan.

“Dolphins!” Martin suddenly shouted, making Joe eat whatever his reaction to your comment was going to be.

You both sat up immediately and saw them shooting over the water. It was a perfect image: the calm blue sea, green mountains from the islands you were passing and the stretched out blue sky with dolphins playing along the side of your boat.

It felt like a fairy tale, and you were lucky someone handed you your camera in time for you to capture it.

Sailing led you to a new island and a new village.

Korfos was a place so small, there wasn't even ATMs there, and Martin only knew of one restaurant for you to go to. There you were greeted by something you’d never seen before in your life. Outside, bordering the seating area where you all sat down, there was a tight twine bound between two trees that was filled with hanging octopuses, drying out in the sun side by side. You learned it was a traditional way of preparing them, but that didn’t take away your slight alarm at the sight.

At dinner Martin told old sailing stories, you pointed at blonde girls for Joe which you found a lot funnier than he did, and Dan got drunk. When he, at the end of dinner, helped two young children buy ice cream, he looked back at your table and shouted, “Just like old times! Kids, man, they’re the best thing that can happen to you!” And no one poked fun or told him to calm down. The sheer acceptance felt ‘round the table could’ve make you cry.

When back on the boat, all tucked into bed, Dan was still drunk.

“Ay, ay captain!” he kept yelling from his bed, and the both of you were doing a bad job stifling your laughter. It had you rolling into each other in between the sheets.

“Hey,” Dan yelled, and the both of you froze in anticipation of what as going to be coming next, big eyes looking into each other’s.

“I might be old-fashioned,” his catchphrase made laughter escape Joe’s throat loudly.

“But don’t put me on the cover of your magazine, alright?”

You could go into detail of why what he just said was wrong, because you didn’t yield that power, the magazine wasn’t yours, and he was just Dan from Manchester, a single dude who missed his son. Why would he be on the cover of Olivier Magazine?

But obviously, you didn’t do that.

“Okay, Dan, I promise.”

Day Seven: Korfos to Athens

You had been woken up by Joe carefully peeling your arm off of his chest and sliding away from your embrace.

It was almost painful when you realised what he was doing, and the gentleness of his fingers that tried their best not to wake you made it worse.

Your arm must have snuck its way over in the night, and you hadn’t been aware, but it left you embarrassed enough to avoid Joe’s eyes during breakfast.

While the day had started with a beautiful sea for all of you to dip into before setting of back to Athens, it wasn’t your day. Which was a shame for your last full day in Greece.

You thought it might have been the looming end of your trip, or the pressure of finishing up writing that you really should have done so much more of. But you kept mulling over the fact that Joe had moved you away from him in bed that morning, and ultimately, that was what had affected you the most.

At noon, when there was time to walk into Athens and have some fun, Joe pressured you to join him, which you felt you couldn’t.

Also, he couldn’t, because you needed photographs of Joe on a boat with an opened white shirt that billowed behind him in the wind, like you’d envisioned when you booked this trip for the two of you.

But you weren’t going to ask him to pose for you, because you felt dumb for having to do so.

And Joe’s chest was peeling because he hadn’t been using sunscreen properly.

None of it was right.

Suddenly, you were fighting. And as friendly and professional you’d been all throughout the week, so mean were you towards each other now. You were all biting remarks, scratchy words, and angry tones.

“You can’t not come, it’s our last full day!” Joe had roped Dan and Martin in on it too. Three against one, entirely unfair, especially after his rejection of you that morning because that's what it had become in your mind.

“Wanker,” you muttered before shutting the flimsy door to your bedroom and shutting him out. Joe thought you were being absolutely ridiculous, but it really pissed him off when you shouted, “Yes, I’m a horrible person!” putting words in his mouth.

“God, you’re not a bad person! I never said that!”

You were still hissing at each other when you joined Dan and Martin, piling into a taxi together to go and climb the Acropolis of Athens. Martin had managed to talk you into it and you’d angrily given in. When Joe looked surprised, and offered to help you get off the boat, you’d refused and had taken a big jump.

Joe pretended he hadn’t seen you almost fall over and scrape up your knees.

The climb to the top had been a silent one. Dan would stop to take photographs with your camera, and you were glad the task of capturing Joe was in someone else’s hands.

At the top of the Acropolis, you thought to yourself that more than only the Parthenon had been damaged.

And for what?

Stress over work?

From up here, you looked down behind you and felt silly at the problems you’d created for yourself down there.

Dan passed you your camera, and you caught Joe looking over at you.

“Do you still like me?” Joe asked when he started growing doubtful if your friendship was still mendable, to at least finish the trip nicely.

“No,” you answered, but you smiled.

The sun within you had risen. “Can I take your picture?” you asked, the source of the initial problem now out of you.

“Of course, go ahead.”

Back from all the ruins, you put Dan and Martin in a taxi back to the harbour and decided to go for dinner and drinks in Athens. To see what the night life was like here.

“And we’ll see if we can find you a nice blonde girl!”

You laughed at the fact that what you had originally thought this whole trip was going to be, the great purpose of going on a trip designed for single people, got boiled down to this last evening on the last day of the full thing.

But first, there was dinner.

You found a cosy little restaurant tucked away in an alley and Joe knew that the connection he felt to you then was much stronger than before because of the fight you’d had earlier.

“They all thought we were a couple, hey?” Joe said, speaking truths that had been left unspoken up until then.

“Yea,” you nodded. “Made me feel a little proud on our first day here,” you confessed, and you saw Joe bite the inside of his cheek.

Joe thought that was the nicest thing you’d said to him, and it was going to be weird that he wasn’t going to be seeing you anymore in two days. Because you weren’t his, he knew that. It felt a little like, how the classic Paris had kidnapped Helena, Joe had kidnapped you for a week.

“You know,” you started. “You don’t have to be so mythical about women. Really, it’s all way easier than you think. Sometimes just ‘are you free tonight’ is enough if it’s the right one.”

Were you flirting?

“Easier, huh? I’ll try and remember that. Can I tell you something crazy?”

“Sure,” you had your doubts about how crazy whatever Joe was going to tell you was going to be.

The Joe you had gotten to know wasn’t crazy at all. He was kind, soft, funny, and caring.

You’d formed a weird friendship, where sometimes you’d catch him staring at you and he’d look away quickly.

The boundaries you had initially felt between the two of you that served its purpose for you as a journalist to keep at least a little distance had been completely shattered on that first night in bed together.

“When I agreed to do this trip with you, it was only because I’d sworn of women.” Joe started, not making the best case for himself.

“Interesting, is it men now?” you joked, before pointedly adding, “Everything’s on the record here, choose your words wisely.” which made Joe laugh.

“I’m sure you have those moments where you’re just exhausted with the whole premise of dating, right? Especially in London.” Joe relayed it back to you, which was smart. It instantly meant that if you were going to answer, you wouldn’t want to include it in your piece.

So, you shrugged in a non-answer.

“I made a pact with myself that, for at least the summer, I wouldn’t try to chase it.”

“Chase what?”

“Love.”

You froze for a second and looked up at Joe.

“And how’s that gone so far?”

The air felt charged and you could see the straight path you wanted Joe to walk right towards you, but with every word Joe’d say, there was the possibility that he’d stray off of it.

Every next word out of Joe’s mouth was either going to be terrible or magnificent.

“Oh, it was so effortless for the first few days.” Of your trip, Joe meant. “You’ve seen our group.” Joe then stated, and you laughed.

“We’re not exactly surrounded by temptation, are we?”

A silence lingered, and you tried to imagine what Joe was thinking. Did he disagree? Were you temptation? Had Joe not removed your arm from his body because he felt disgusted by it, but because it would open doors he didn’t feel he could open? Should open? Or, had he been just hot and uncomfortable under your sticky limb? You just realised that had been an option too.

“I didn’t think I’d have so much fun on this tip, though. I think I’ve come to love all of you a bit.” Joe then smiled, and you copied it.

Yes, he was right.

Tim and his kid had become your somewhat distant uncle who relished in teaching his son how to play sudoku.

Dan was the drunk uncle who had so much weight on his shoulders, it had turned him funny.

Martin was the father, and not just because Jesse would call him dad all the time.

Jesse and Charlie were your younger brothers, maybe even twin brothers, who were annoying sometimes but hilarious always.

Frank and Daisy felt like grandparents, even though technically they weren’t old enough unless a string of teen pregnancies tied you together.

You weren’t sure who you and Joe were in this family, or what you were to each other for that matter.

“Me too,” you said. “It’s going to be a weird couple of pages in Olivier next month.”

“Yea?”

“It’ll have your face on, I’m sure it’ll do good, but it’s absolutely not what I expected it was going to be beforehand.”

Joe just looked at you.

“Which is probably good, if I had found exactly what I thought I was going to find, I might as well not have gone.”

“What did you find?” Joe pressed.

“Ah, you’ll have to read that in the magazine like everybody else next month, I’m afraid.” You teased.

And so, he did. Joe’s management had received a copy of the magazine about 4 days before its release date.

Summer was over, and the autumn issues were about to come out. It graced Joe on the cover, sat on the side of the boat, legs dangling over the side, arms and head resting on the metal bar that prevented him from falling into the water.

You could see his peeling chest and his sunburnt nose, and with the sun shining bright, Joe hadn’t opted to slide the sunglasses from his hair, but instead he had shut one eye and squinted at the camera with a smile. It was very boyfriend of him, entirely too dreamy not to have been chosen as the cover shot. You hadn’t taken it, and it had cost you precious company time to figure out who did, feeling like proper credits were in order.

It had left you with contact details to every single person you’d gotten to know on your trip, and you’d promised yourself you’d share all of it with Joe once the magazine would be out and you’d have a reason to e-mail him.

You’d managed to get twelve pages in. Twelve! It was double the amount you’d ever gotten in a magazine before. It was nine pages of photographs, and three pages of writing. You were nervous of what Joe was going to think of it, not even knowing if he was ever really going to read it.

Joe did read it, though.

Turning pages of photos, he was sad there hadn’t been any of you in them.

Some of the others had made it in; there was a smaller picture of Joe, Charlie and Jesse as they posed near the bow of the boat as if they were Greek Gods; a photo Daisy had taken of them. Martin was there too, sat behind the boat wheel wearing a captain’s hat that you hadn’t seen him wear for the full trip.

Joe was surprised by how much he missed it all; it truly felt like he was flipping through a family photo album and his chest filled with nostalgia.

“Got a copy. Need to call you. I don’t have your number, and Matthew won’t give it because he says I’ve got your e-mail.”

Joe sent an e-mail and had to wait entirely too long for you to reply to it.

“What a way to induce an anxiety attack on a Tuesday afternoon.” You’d e-mailed back, followed by your phone number.

It only took seconds for Joe to call.

“Sorry, no need to panic!” were the first words out of his mouth before you’d even gotten the chance to say hi.

“Bad choice of words on my part, sorry, but I’m looking at Olivier now and, I know it’s probably not customary to ring the writer with some feedback, but... it’s beautiful.” he followed.

“Hi,” you grinned as you got the word in.

“Hi,” Joe replied, sighing a laugh.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“You’re not in it.” Joe meant with a picture. He’d taken many of you, so he knew there’d been options for you to try.

“I am. Just in the words.”

“I like that you got some of the others in. Have they seen it yet?”

“No, but they will. I’ve gotten my hands on everyone’s details.”

“Is it weird that I miss them?”

“It’s not,” you laughed. “I miss them too. Especially Dan.”

“Especially Dan.” Joe agreed.

“So, summer’s over.” Joe closed the magazine and looked at his own face on the cover of it.

“It is.” You confirmed, unsure where Joe was going.

“I erm… I took your advice on not being so mythical about women.”

“Oh, good!” you were genuinely happy for Joe, and thought that maybe he was going to say how your trip had fixed him and he had now found the one woman who did look like the women do in ads that would also sit on his sofa in his flat with him.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

Oh.

“I- …. Yes. I am.”

---

The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks - add yourself

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Fanfiction #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe x reader #Joseph x reader #fluff #joe quinn fluff

290 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 2 months ago

Note

YOU ALWAYS GOT ME CURLING MY TOES KICKING MY FEET SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

“Fancy seeing you here,” your captor said in a very familiar, cheeky voice.

🧍‍♀️ ???? This rat really acting like it was a coincidence when he nearly yanked my soul out my skeleton hello???? He's so stupid

I'm tryna be ur wife fool

He leaned down, his lips brushing along the column of your throat.

THAT SHOULD BE ME

His lips connected with yours in a soft, languid kiss. “Consider yourself warned,” he grinned.

WARN ME EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF MY EXISTENCE

“Just how much I like you,” you whispered, resting your chin on his sternum when he pulled back.

I fuckin knew I would forget the context of this... Gimme a sec... OH NVM I REMEMBER FUCK IM SO DUMB YEAH YOU AND ME BOTH BESTIE HELLO

He chuckled. “Gonna to have to be quiet f’me, love. Don't want go get caught with a Beater, aye?”

Literally me (I hate this gif I am legally obligated to say how much I hate it but equally find it hilllllllarrrious mdkdkdkksk)

You lurked by the Gryffindor locker rooms, waiting for George to emerge, freshly showered in his favorite hoodie and sweats. Your mouth nearly watered at the thought.

IMPURE THOUGHTS ONLY. I LITERALLY WENT I WILL LIKE HIM LIKE A LOLLIPOP FRESHLY SHOWERED JUST TO GET HIM DIRTY PLEASE I WANT HIM SO BAD

“Oi! What—oh, hey y/n.” He smirked down at you, waggling his eyebrows. “Wrong twin, but—”

🧍‍♀️😭✋ he is an icon. he is the moment. HES SO FUNNY. GEORGE IS GONNA BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU THOUGH BUT YOU DID IT FOR THE COMEDY

“Yeah, he was livid. But, he's the last one in there if you want to cheer him up.” Fred winked and slipped back into the hall, leaving you to your mischief.

We ain't leaving till our skins wrinkly as fuckkkkk HAHAHAHHAH

“You little minx.” He grabbed you off the bench and into his still damp chest, kissing you fiercely. “I was just about to come see you,” he said between sloppy kisses, backing you against a row of lockers.

I WILL LITERALLY GIVE HIM HIS OWN QUIDDITCH TEAM. MOLLY WEASLEY AINT GOT NOTHING ON ME

Your stomach dropped, indignation at Woods words colliding with the newfound guilt in your mind. George loved Quidditch. You didn't want to be the reason he wasn't playing well. But also…what if that meant Quidditch was higher priority to him? Where did that leave you?

Honestly me at Oliver: (the crowd goes fucking mild)

How does he think not dating will help? The call of a man who's never felt the touch of a woman

“Fuck, Georgie,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

😭CON😭GRA😭TU😭LA😭TIONS😭 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY LIFE

Irritation prickled up your neck. “I'm not sure I have time to tutor someone.”

A deafening crack sounded from across the pitch and you both startled, turning back towards the match. A bludger was barreling straight towards your section. You screamed as it slammed into the post less than half a meter from Gus' head, ripping through the wood with a resounding boom and scattering splinters across the section.

BROOOOOOOOOOO GEORGE OUT FOR BLOOD HES LEGIT ALMOST KILLED A MAN INSANE BEHAVIOR HELLO?????

Gryffindor was booing the call, chanting “Weasley!” at the top of their lungs. Without George, unless Harry caught the snitch, the match was basically forfeit.

AND THATS ON PERIODT. MY MANNNNNNNNNNNN IS THAT GWORL

“Are you questioning my aim?”

GAGO KA GEORGE GEORRGGEEEE IM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT YOU HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL GAGO

He pinched your cheeks together in his still gloved hand, shaking you slightly. “I'll always protect you, brat. And if that makes me a madman, so be it.”

I WANT HIM

A grin split George's handsome face, making your heart flutter.

I wish he was real ): (he's real to me)

“Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

BEAUTIFUL STUNNING GORGEOUS LOVELY UGHHHHHH 100000000000/10

Hii there!! Can you write something about George Weasley where he and the reader have been really good friends for a while but start secretly dating because of some stupid rule like quidditch players can’t date during the season or something like that? And they get caught by their friends being intimate after a game?

Ps: love your writing style so much, your fics are so easy to get into and beautifully written💕

thank you for the request! hope your enjoy 🫶

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

| George Weasley x fem!reader

cw: light smut (heavy petting/making out), sneaking around/secret relationship, jealous!george, assault via bludger, oliver wood is a cock block.

MDNI 18+

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You were walking down the hall with Luna, chatting about the results your divination exam, when a hand shot out and yanked you into a dark, empty classroom.

“Fancy seeing you here,” your captor said in a very familiar, cheeky voice.

“You can't just kidnap me, Weasley.” You cross your arms over your chest, jutting out a hip.

“Kidnapping is a bit dramatic.” George’s hands slide around your waist. “Can't a bloke want to spend a few moments with his girl?” He leaned down, his lips brushing along the column of your throat.

You craned your head back for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Perhaps. But still, some warning would be nice.”

His lips connected with yours in a soft, languid kiss. “Consider yourself warned,” he grinned.

You breathed a content sigh, taking your fingers through his ginger hair while he peppered featherlight kisses along your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids. The last few weeks had been so challenging thanks to Woods new rule about dating during Quidditch season.

You and George had been circling one another since fourth year, waiting for the right moment to dip your toes into something more than friendship. And of course, when the stars finally aligned, Wood had to throw a wrench in your new relationship. So now, instead of basking in your honeymoon phase, you were forced to sneak around, hiding your relationship from everyone.

But Fred, obviously. George couldn't lie to his twin even if he wanted to.

“You're in your head, darling,” George murmured, pulling back to look at your face in the dim light.

“Am not,” you argued, dragging your hands down his chest and sliding them under his robes. The sweater beneath was soft and thick, warm from his body heat.

“What are you thinking about?” He kissed your temple, across your cheekbone, beneath your ear…

You hummed, leaning into him, soaking up his heat, his unhurried affection.

“Love?” He prodded, nipping at your ear.

“Just how much I like you,” you whispered, resting your chin on his sternum when he pulled back.

A smile spread across his freckled face. “My sweet girl,” he cooed. “I like you too.”

You pressed your lips to his, brushing your tongue along his lower lip, and his hands tightened on your waist. He parted his lips for you to delve deeper, matching every stroke of your tongue with his until you were panting, clawing at his sweater to get closer.

He backed you against a desk, his hand sliding under your skirt to squeeze your ass, notching your hips against his. A gasp squeaked for your throat when he ground himself against you, already growing sensitive.

He chuckled. “Gonna to have to be quiet f’me, love. Don't want go get caught with a Beater, aye?”

You nodded, clamping your lips shut.

The Quidditch season was only three months. How hard could it be?

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Quidditch practice ran late for the third night in a row, and you were desperate for some attention from your boyfriend.

You lurked by the Gryffindor locker rooms, waiting for George to emerge, freshly showered in his favorite hoodie and sweats. Your mouth nearly watered at the thought.

But player after player trailed out of the locker room, and no George. You were getting impatient, shifting form foot to foot when you spotted Fred walking with Ron, chatting animatedly about the match this weekend.

You grabbed Fred’s wrist and yanked him to the corridor you were hiding.

“Oi! What—oh, hey y/n.” He smirked down at you, waggling his eyebrows. “Wrong twin, but—”

“Ew, Fred! No! Where's George?”

Fred snickered. “Still in the shower. Pitch was muddy and he got a face full from Thomas.”

You grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, he was livid. But, he's the last one in there if you want to cheer him up.” Fred winked and slipped back into the hall, leaving you to your mischief.

You scampered down the corridor and into the locker room, following the trail of steam until you found the only drawn curtain. George was humming to himself, tapping his feet on the tile floor.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to avoid laughing and ruining the surprise, and perched on the bench across from the curtain to wait.

A few moments later, the water cut off and his hand poked through the curtain, grabbing the red towel off the hook.

The curtain ripped open, and George yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the towel slung low around his hips.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You grinned.

“Were you?” You giggled as his lips moved down your neck, sending tingles skittering across your skin. You dragged your nails cross his bare back, admiring the way his muscles jumped at your touch.

“Couldn't stand another night without you,” he admitted. He started undoing the buttons of your blouse, clearly feeling as desperate as you did based on the tent in his towel.

“Eager, are we?” You teased, hiking your leg over his hip as his hand slid into your skirt.

His middle finger swiped through your slit, teasing your clit with small circles. Pleasure pulsed through you, making your eyes roll back. “Someone is. Already soaked for me, love,” he groaned, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss as he toyed with you.

“Fuck, Georgie,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Merlin, I missed you.”

“Weasley, you still in here?” Wood called his voice echoing around room.

“Bloody fucking—stall, now.” George slipped his fingers from you and into his mouth, ushering you into the shower stall he just vacated. The air was still humid and scented by his vanilla body wash. No, your vanilla body wash, you realized, spotting the bottle you'd been missing still sitting on the shelf.

“Still hangin’ around, Wood?” You heard George say.

“I wanted to talk to ya’ about somethin’,” Oliver said, and you saw his boots enter the shower room from under the curtain.

“Can I put trousers on first?”

Oliver snorted. “Sure, mate.”

You heard George shuffling around, pulling on his clothes.

“Fucking trousers don't hide shit,” he grumbled to himself and you had a stifle another laugh. “Alright, Wood. What's on your mind?”

“You've been distracted, Weasley. Missing bludgers, ignoring plays, it's not like you to not take Quidditch seriously,” Oliver said, and you frowned.

George sighed. “It's, ah, there's an assignment in Herbology that's gone tits up. Damn plant won't grow,” George said.

“Uh huh,” Wood answered, clearly not buying it. “Well, maybe it's time your sort out your priorities, mate. Not sure a plant is worth throwing the season, if ya’ know what I mean. We need our best Beater, yeah?”

“Understood, Captain.” George's voice was cold, a stark contrast to his usual chipper demeanor, and it raised goosebumps along your arms.

Oliver clapped him on the shoulder and left the locker room, evidently oblivious to the shift in George. The door clicked shut behind him, echoing around the empty room.

George tugged the shower curtain open, startling you from your spiralling thoughts. He immediately clocked the distress on your face, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “Oh, lovey—”

“I didn't know I was impacting the team,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes.

George tilted your chin up, his other arm wrapping around your waist. “Baby, the teams fine. Wood just has a stick up his ass. I played great today, and always do when you're in the stands watching me.”

It was true. Some of his best games had been in the last month you'd been together.

“And besides, I don't need to sort out my priorities.” He bumped his nose against yours. “You always come first, y/n.”

Your heart soared, heat creeping up your neck. “Before Quidditch?” You asked, curling your hands into his hoodie.

“Before everything.” He kissed you softly, with no real pressure, just feeling you against him, and all your anxiety fell away. “C’mon, Freddie's going to a Hufflepuff party tonight, so we've got my dorm to ourselves.”

You kissed him again, smiling. “Sounds perfect.”

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Brooms whizzed over your house’s section, whipping your scarf around your head.

“Go George!” You cheered, when he drifted nearby, twirling the bat in his gloved hand.

He flashed you a wink before banking left, whacking the snot out of bludger that was hurdling straight for Ron. It rocketed across the pitch and directly into the other houses Seeker, giving Harry the advantage.

“Woohoo!” You cheered with the rest of the student body. “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

“Good game, aye?” A guy sidled up next you, leaning against the railing. You sort of recognized him from your Potions class, but couldn't be sure.

“Great game,” you replied, turning your attention back to the match and your boyfriend.

“Are you fan? Of Quidditch, I mean?”

“Mhmm—go Ron!” You cheered, tuning him out.

“I'm Gus, by the way. We're in the same Potions class?”

“Hi, Gus.” You give him a tight smile, hoping he takes the hint.

“Y’know, maybe we could study together sometime. Merlin knows Potions isn't my strong suit, but you seem pretty smart—”

“Get after it, Harry!” You roared as the Seeker flew overhead, the snitch just a few feet out in front of him.

“What do you think, y/n?” Gus prodded.

Irritation prickled up your neck. “I'm not sure I have time to tutor someone.”

Gus’ smile faltered. “Well, what about the next match, then? Maybe we could sit together.” He scooted closer you, infringing on your already limited space.

You squirmed closer to your friend on the other side of you, who was too wrapped up in the match to notice your discomfort. “No thanks, Gus.”

“Oh, c’mon. I promise I'm a nice guy.” He dropped his hand on your knees, and you wrenched yourself away.

“Don't fucking touch me—”

You jumped back, falling into your friends laps, and Gus shrieked like a banshee, his face blanching white at how close it had come to taking his head clean off his shoulders.

An ear-splitting whistle interrupted the resulting chaos.

“Weasley, out!” Madame Hootch hollered.

You straightened in alarm, finding George hovering at the center of the pitch, his bat gripped tightly in his hand. His eyes were locked on Gus, dark and smug, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“George, land!” Wood bellowed, and George finally floated back to earth. You could hear Oliver shouting, but couldn't see George from your seat.

You fought your way out of the stands, trying to push your way towards the locker room.

Gryffindor was booing the call, chanting “Weasley!” at the top of their lungs. Without George, unless Harry caught the snitch, the match was basically forfeit.

Your mind raced from the adrenaline. Did George do it on purpose? And if he did, why would he jeopardize the match like that?

You found him in the locker room, undoing the ties on his robe. He was still in his uniform, sweaty and smeared with dirt, his hair flat from the helmet.

“George,” you said, and he looked up.

“Love, what are you doing down here?” He frowned, reaching for you, but you held your ground, crossing your arms over your chest. His frown deepened.

“Did you do that on purpose?” You demanded.

“Of course I did,” he responded, not a trace of hesitation in his voice.

“Why? They won't win without you!”

“I don't care about the bloody match, y/n.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

George walked over to you, cradling your face in his gloved hands. “That guy was bothering you, yeah?”

You almost denied it, but found yourself nodding, unable to lie to him.

“And you thought I was going to sit back and let someone make you uncomfortable? My girl? Fuck no.”

You giggled, his protectiveness spurring a wave of affection and dissolving your anger. “I think nearly killing him was a bit much,” you snickered.

“Are you questioning my aim?”

“Just your sanity.”

He pinched your cheeks together in his still gloved hand, shaking you slightly. “I'll always protect you, brat. And if that makes me a madman, so be it.”

You swatted his hands away before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for kiss. He tasted of salt and peppermints, his skin smelling of turf and fresh air, with a hint of that masculine musk that made your head go a little fuzzy.

He kissed you back, catching your lower lip between his teeth and sucking gently. You moaned against him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and taste you.

“I'm done hiding,” he murmured when you both came up for air. “And Wood can bugger off.”

The mixing shouting of the crowd filled the quiet air around you. “Ravenclaw scores another twenty points!” Lee declared, his voice notably unenthused.

George shook his head with a smug chuckle, leaning his forehead against yours. “See? They need me.”

“Weasley!” Oliver shouted, startling you both. George looked up, tightening his grip around you. Oliver didn't even bother to act surprised. “You're back in,” he sighed.

A grin split George's handsome face, making your heart flutter.

“Good man,” he replied, dropping a peck onto your lips before doing his helmet and running back out onto the pitch to the roar of the crowd.

“Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Thank you so much for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #LOVEEEEE

1K notes · View notes