#obsessed with characters who would shoot me on sight
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
He is, in fact, everything to me
#AHHHHHHH#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout show#fallout spoilers#my art#Fanart#yes I was also in love with hancock#fallout 2024#obsessed with characters who would shoot me on sight
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Perfect Partner | Sequel 1
Synopsis - You wake up in an unfamiliar apartment, next to your so-called AI boyfreind Jeongguk, only to realize you're trapped.
Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader
Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance
Warnings- Since you all told me that I can totally tag this under yandere, I'm going to do that. (Kidnapping/ Obsessive Love/ Jeon is delusional (He's a psychopath)/ Jeon is a sweet asshole/ Possesiveness/ Betrayal/ Infidelity/ Soft manipulation/ Toxic behaviours/ Reader is broken.) No smut for this part but it's going to be there in the future.
Word count- 9K
a/n- My initial plan was to write just a part two, but it ended up being too long. So, I decided to break it into a few chapters. This is the first sequel, and I'll write a prequel next to give you insight into what happened in the past. After that, I'll release another sequel to continue the story from here. (Hope you won't mind) And thank you sososossoooooo much for the love you've shown for Perfect Partner. (I love you all ❤️)
DON'T BLAME ME
This is the sequel, read the first part here -
Perfect Partner
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You stir awake slowly. Eyes remaining closed as your senses begin to return. And the first thing you become aware of is the way your head pounds violently. It throbs as though your skull might split open. A soft whimper escapes your lips.
Why are you in so much pain?
What the hell happened that you’re feeling such a severe headache?
You scrunch your face in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Another soft groan escapes you. And you make the grave mistake of opening your eyes. You open your eyes slowly and sensually. Feeling how heavy your eyelids are. But a sharp pain shoots across your head the moment a faint white light reaches your vision. This time as if a spear impaled your skull. Right between your eyes. That’s where the pain starts and shortly after your entire head is in an unbearable agony.
You whimper loudly before closing your eyes back. Mentally cursing yourself for trying to open them in the first place. Try to turn into your side in hope the pain would subside when a sudden voice reaches you. Making you freeze.
“Oh, you’re awake?”
A voice that is deep and baritone. Groggy and husky. Soothing and warm. Then you feel some movements. It all happens fast. The voice and the feeling of the mattress dipping next to you. You shoot your eyes open disregarding the pain. It’s a reflex. A strange sensation washes over you. A fear. Fear that’s so intense it numbs you. You don’t try to move or turn your head. Or you don’t get a chance to do so. Just as you open your eyes back, you’re met with someone. Blurry. Hazy.
“How are you feeling pretty?”
Pretty?
Your sight finally clears. Your eyes zero on a face.
Pretty………….
Hi pretty!
A voice rings in your head. Repeatedly. One word.
Pretty.
Fragments of memories start to flash in front of your eyes. Voices. Images. A man. An AI. Perfect Partner. Gifts. Hoseok. Fear. You can practically feel the same fear. Terror. Daebi’s birthday. Your apartment. Your phone- destroyed. A fight with a stupid AI character.
Stupid AI character!
Jeongguk. A sharp yet shaky breath lodges inside your lung, painfully. Jeongguk. Your perfect partner. An AI character who you’ve been so smitten over until you weren’t. Jeongguk. A perfectly coded program that knew exactly how to make you feel good. Jeongguk. That godly man with a tattooed hand and piercings.
Jeongguk….
Jeongguk…
Jeongguk…
Tattoos.
Piercings.
You blink at the brown eyes peering at you. A thin layer of sweat coats your entire body. The familiar yet excruciating fear engulfing you whole. Your eyes naturally wander over the strange face that keeps staring at you with wide eyes, faster than lightning. Brown eyes. Chiseled nose. Pink lips.
A Lip ring.
Your breath hitches in a bad way. You look back at his eyes. Eyebrows. One brow is pierced.
Piercings.
Jeongguk.
It’s ridiculous how your brain takes that much time to realize everything. To recover everything. To identify the person in front of your eyes who’s so close to you that you can feel his breath. Like a sudden slap everything registers inside your mind. And when it does, a loud alarm goes on inside your brain. Your sight turns blurry again as the terror makes your breath catch in your throat. Still you manage to let out a tangled scream as your flight or fight reflexes finally activate. You try to sit abruptly as a flash, hands coming to push away the person who is hovering over you. You really don’t have a plan. All you know is the urge to run away. Get away from this person who couldn’t be here in theory. He’s supposed to be a programmed character.
Yet he is here. And all you can do is try your best to run away. That’s your plan, which quickly turns into a failure when you’re pushed back into the bed before you could even sit back properly.
“Don’t- don’t move so fast.” His voice reaches to you as if it's coming from a distance. “You’ll get sick if you-” You try your utmost best. You thrash in his hold. Twisting your hands. Kicking your legs. “- Fucking stay still (___), you’ll worsen your headache.” He pins you down into the mattress. Gets on top of you in one quick movement. Holds your both wrists pinned above your head. His legs tangled with yours so you could no longer even move them let alone kick.
No. Oh God no! This isn’t happening.
Your tangled screams turn into muffled sobs. You absolutely hate how tears start to roll down your cheeks instantly. You’re showing weakness. And your body is growing weak alongside your mind. Yet still you try to move at least. It doesn’t work. The guy is ten times stronger than you. You can smell him. Something lavender. You can feel him. His breath. His weight. Everywhere. You feel sick.
“Please don’t.” You manage to croak out, finally. “Do-don’t. Let-let me..” Your own voice is unrecognisable to even you. Desperate. Pathetic. Helpless.
“Shh.. it’s okay princess. Calm down baby. Calm down.” His voice makes your skin prickle. Your muffled sobs turn into a wail. Despite how much you don’t like it, you start bawling like a child.
“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Let me go. Don’t-” You try to move one more time. Fail, yet again. “Don’t touch me.” Your body starts to shake. You watch how his eyes widen through your blurry gaze. “Le-let me go. Do-don’t touch please-” You feel his grip loosen. He takes a minute. Then abruptly gets off you. Sit back on his heels.
“Okay. Okay. Fuck. I’m not touching you. Don’t move too fast-”
You don’t give a fuck about what he says. The moment his hands and body are not on you, you jump into action again. This time you manage to sit back properly. Manage to get down from the bed you’ve been on. Manage to stand on your feet. Only just for a split second, however. Just as you stand up, your legs give up completely. Everything starts to go dark.Your body fails you entirely as you feel the way you start to sway to your left. You’d hit the ground any second now. But the impact never comes.
“Told you baby. You’re making it worse.”
You’re wrapped up in a pair of strong hands.
…………………………….
You lay in the silk comforters. Head propped up on two pillows. Soaked in your own sweat. Head violently pounding. Spinning. You’ve thrown up three times by now. Still you feel nauseous. There’s a metallic bitter taste lingering on your tongue. Your fingers feel numb. So do your legs. Everything feels like a nightmare to you. Nothing makes sense but you know it’s real. You woke up next to your AI character. Each and everything that happened to you was real. Your AI Jeongguk was real. And you’ve been kidnapped. He kidnapped you and now you’re a prisoner here.
The nausea intensifies tenfold at the realization. You’re trapped here. And you’re too weak to even consider running away. You tried and now look at you. Completely bedridden. It’s humiliating how your captor had to hold your hair back while you threw your guts out. Ridiculous how your captor was the one who carried you to the bed when you couldn’t make two steps without falling down.
Fresh tears start to roll down through your cheeks. You’re completely helpless and at his mercy. You want to be able to do something. To fight. Escape. What have you done in your previous life that you’re in this kind of situation? You twist the silk bed sheet around your fingers. Having no other way of unleashing your emotions. Anger. Despair. Fear. Sorrow.
The sudden sound of the door opening snaps you out of your melancholy. You instantly recoil in your spot. Back pressing into the mattress as you idly try to make yourself hidden from his view. Even closing your eyes shut as if it would help you to hide your shaking figure. Creating a false sense of protectiveness around you. It’s scary. Him. His place. Even his presence. It doesn’t matter how tidy and spotless this room is. How handsome he looks. How good he and this room smell. Nothing is enough to shake your fear away. You recoil even more as you hear his footsteps growing closer to you. Almost cover your face in the comforter when you feel his presence right next to you. Standing near the bed.
“Baby!” His voice is soothing. Warm and soft. Like the caress of a lover. If only that’s the case. You squeeze your eyes shut. Not wanting to look at your abductor. You hear him heave a heavy sigh. “C’mon, you need to eat something.” He mumbles. You keep your eyes closed. “Princess, you’re sick, and you need to eat something.” He repeats. And you feel your stomach churn.
Princess?
He acts like he cares about you with his whole heart and soul. Sick. He’s fucking sick.
Among all the emotions you’re feeling, you sense how anger rears its head above the rest.. You’re still very scared but you can't help but feel mad. What can go wrong anymore, anyway. You’ve already trapped here. So, you tilt your head to your side. Keep your eyes closed.
“Okay,” Jeongguk lets out an almost inaudible chuckle before you can hear him placing something on the nightstand. You guess it’s the food. Then you can feel him sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. Then silence. For a second, all you can feel is his presence. Then a sharp gasp leaves your mouth when you feel a rough hand on your face. Cups your cheeks. You open your eyes solely due to the fear at the same time Jeongguk turns your head toward him. Just like earlier, you’re met with his face so close to you. Instead of brown, glinting, innocent doe eyes, however, this time you’re peering into a pair of dark eyes that are shadowed by a dangerous dark cloud. Threatening and warning.
“You’re such a brat princess. I knew you were. Don’t be stubborn now,hm? You need energy. You need food,” Your breath hitch at his dangerous voice. Eyes starting to prick with new tears. Jeongguk’s features soften at that. “Look baby, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll never hurt you. Won’t do anything to you.” He withdraws his hand. You immediately let out a breath of relief. Ignore the way his face tightens for a minute at that. But he fixes it immediately. “I won’t even touch you. See,” Shows his hands to you while he says that. “But,” Of course, there’s a but. “You need to be a good girl. Can’t have you die under my protection now, can we? That’s not why I brought you here. All I want is the best for you baby. So, don’t be stubborn now, will you? Just let me feed you.” He takes a tray from the nightstand, which is what he probably placed there earlier. “Let’s clean you up then and you’ll have a good sleep. Come morning, you’ll be all fine.” Gives you a soft and reassuring smile. His lip ring glistnes under the dim lighting of the room. “C’mon, sit up. Want me to help you?” Questions.
You just dumbly stare at him. How sweet he appears. How caring. And he always was. When you thought he was just a mere programme. Before he started controlling every movement of your life. Scared the shit out of you and ended up kidnapping you. Lied to you about a whole lot of things. Hell, your entire life is a lie. This sweet man in front of you is a lie. That smile is a facade. He’s a dangerous predator and you’re his prey. One wrong movement, he’ll break your neck. And you don’t want that. Despite everything, dying in his hands is the last thing you want.
You shake your head. You absolutely don’t want his hands on you. Even if it’s just to help you. You’ll use the last ounce of your strength to do things alone. So, you sit up with a great effort. He rushes to fix the pillow into a much more comfortable angle to you. You say nothing when he starts to feed you.
You’ll find a way out of here. Even though you have no idea where you are. You don’t even know what day it is or the time. There’s not a clock in here. You don’t know how long it has been since you were here. Missing from the outside world. Yet, you’ll figure it out. To do that, however, you’ll need your strength back. You convince yourself that’s the only reason why you’re greedily opening your mouth every time he brings the spoon near it. Nothing else. Not because the soup tastes heavenly and you’re starving. You don’t want his food. It’s just that you need strength.
……………………….
You didn’t want to comply with any of his requests. Or commands, you’ll say since none of them sounds like requests. He demanded that you eat. You did. He demanded that you bathe. You did. He demanded that you sleep. So, you did. Now when you’re awake, still lying on his comfy bed, he’s demanding you take some pills. You don’t want to do it. You don’t know what those pills are. And the longer you resist the harder his expression is turning.
He was beaming when you opened your eyes to find him sitting at the corner desk, staring at his computer. He seemed genuinely thrilled to see you awake again. But with every minute you refused to take the pills, his smile slowly faded. Replaced with a scowl and now he’s glaring down at you. You don’t like that look. A shiver runs through your spine.
“Now, what did I tell you princess?” He asks softly but you can hear the hidden warning.
“I-I’m f-fine. I- don’t w-want medicine.” You meekly try one more time. Jeongguk’s whole face turns grim. You don’t know what he’ll do. Panic floods your mind. You gulp harshly. You hate how you feel scared of this man. Paranoid. He hasn’t done anything except kidnapping you. Not yet anyway. He promised not to touch you and he hadn’t. He cooked for you, made sure you were clean, comfy, and warm. All of which are good things. But here you are afraid of him as if he’s the satan when he looks like an angel.
You raise a shaky weak arm up to take the pills in your hand. It’s not like he would drug you. You don’t know how he brought you here. Only things you can remember are the fear and your apartment. And his voice. The rest is dark. Maybe he drugged you then. Maybe hit you hard across your head. Or maybe it’s simply chloroform. But now though he has no reason to drug you again. You’re too weak anyway. And he himself told you that he doesn't want to cause any harm. You gulp down the pills in one go. Hoping it wouldn’t actually kill you. Look at Jeongguk expectantly. His expression doesn’t change a bit. But he simply nods and turns around to walk away. And your tongue betrays you before you can process it. His name leaves past your lips even without your knowledge.
“Jeongguk.” You mutter weakly. He halts. Turns around to face you. His expression is unreadable. You don’t know why you stopped him. So, you try to rake your brain for a good excuse when he saves you from the trouble.
“JungKook.” He states.
“Huh?” You blink at his face when finally his face softens. “It’s Jungkook pretty. My real name, it’s Jeon Jungkook.” He explains.
Oh!
Of course, he lied. Not that you care anyway. Why would you? You just nod in acceptance.
“Why?” You decide to ignore his disclosure. The question comes easily into your mouth. And Jeongguk- or now Jungkook looks genuinely surprised. You expect him to ask you to clarify the question. He doesn’t.
“Because I love you baby. I don’t want you to hurt anymore. Wanted to protect you. You’re safe here with me. Besides, you gave me no other option. You were becoming too stubborn and you lied to me. When I did my best, you lied to me baby.” Jungkook peers down at your figure on his bed. You feel new tears forming in your eyes again. You’re too tired. You can’t cry anymore. But you can’t help it either. Jungkook is talking about kidnapping you as if it’s such a normal thing. He reasons with you about how fair that is. He tells you that he did it because he loves you. He’s insane—completely and utterly insane.
“I didn’t want to scare you and bring you here this way. I had a plan. And you ruined it because you had to lie to me and go after your shitty friends and ex again. I had to do something before you hurt yourself again. I’m sorry I scared you baby,” He smiles softly again. You bite the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from crying. “But that’s okay now. You’re safe and I’ll make sure of it.” He turns around again. Leaves the room.
A fresh sob erupts from your throat.
You’re trapped with a psychopath.
…………………………..
It had taken a week. An entire week for you to recover from whatever agonizing sickness you went through. You couldn’t even move alone without Jungkook’s help, let alone thinking about running away. Yet you plotted your escape anyway. While you were resting on the bed for twenty four hours, you planned every miniscule detail of your grand escape. Until you end up with no plan on the seventh day where you are finally able to walk without his help. It’s not that your plans are stupid. No. Simply that each and every plan you come with requires a moment where Jungkook isn’t home. And after a close examination of a week, you realized that the chances of such a moment is likely zero.
The guy is always home. Every damn minute. You had waited until he’d finally go to work. He didn’t. Your best guess was that he works from home. That explains the amount of time he’s spending hunched over his computer. It’s surprising to you, how a complete computer nerd has that kind of body. Then you waited until he left the place for groceries or something. That didn’t happen either. And that makes all your plans futile.
Scary. The prospect of not being able to run away almost drains you out of your will to live. But you’re still hopeful. The opportunity might arrive anytime. Especially since you’ve gained your strength back again.
And you believe with your whole heart that people must be looking for you already. Daebi surely must have visited you the next day as she promised. You wonder if she has suspected anything right away. Maybe not. But still she must’ve tried to call you. You were friends for almost more than six years now. She knows you like the back of her hand. She would definitely know something is wrong. You guess she already did. Besides she knew you were paranoid about someone being in your place. Daebi is a smart woman and she must’ve picked up on the clues fast. You believe she has already paid a visit to the police station. You can imagine the ruckus she’s causing there. Demanding them to find you soon. See, you have hope. You know they’d come find you eventually. But still you won’t sit here prettily until that happens. You’ll try your utmost best to escape.
Besides, on the bright side, Jungkook hasn’t tried to harm you in any way. He has stuck to his promise and never even laid a finger on you. Except for the times he had to help you move around. And you didn’t protest at those times either since despite your strong will, your body didn’t comply with your mind. Other than that, the man has respected your wishes and your privacy fully. He hasn’t even slept in the same room as you. Somehow, you have managed to realise that it’s his room. But he has given it to you. You have no idea where he spent nights. Not that you care anyway. You really didn’t talk with him. He did. You listened. Or you didn’t do that either. Simply, you allowed him to ramble sometime while he fed you or helped you around. And as long as everything keeps happening in the same way, you can wait patiently until a perfect moment arises for you.
Yes. That moment will come and you will be out of here even before you know.
You give yourself a firm nod. Partially in determination and partially to brace yourself to do what you’re about to do. You place your hand slowly on the doorknob. This is the first time you’re about to step outside of this room. It’s not that you really want to do that. But firstly, you’re sick of looking at the same four walls for a straight week. Secondly, you need to have a better idea about the place you live in to be able to successfully escape. You haven’t seen Jungkook since this morning but you know he’s somewhere under the same roof as you.
You open the door slowly and quietly. Half expecting to stumble into a hidden trap or have something jump out at you. Nothing like that happens. You open the door completely and are met with a short hallway. Across from it you can see a living room. The entire place is eerily quiet. No sounds of anything except a distant buzz that you assume is a refrigerator. You slowly take a step forward. Then another. Still being very cautious of any sudden attacks. And make it to the living room without any hitch. His bedroom has looked lavish. You won’t lie. It’s comfortable and large. Even his bathroom is lavish. But now as you’re standing in his living room, you know certainly he’s rich. You don't know what his job is but for one thing, he must be earning six figures while working from home. Impressive. Perfect. Like how he portrayed himself in front of you. The Perfect Partner.
You let out a small breath. Taking in your surroundings. Minimalistic black and white interior. Comfy couch. State-of-the-art television. Everything looks lavish. You dart your eyes over every nook and corner, stopping in every detail until you spot what you’ve been looking for. The main door. Right across from you. You gape at the wooden barrier that keeps you hidden in this place. Isn’t it funny how it’s just a door and all you have to do is twist the knob? Aren’t you going to be free then? The temptation coils around your body like a serpent. Tightening painfully with every passing second. What would happen if you just started running toward that door? Just open it and break into a run for all that you are worth.
“I won’t even think about it, if I was you, pretty.” The sudden voice that comes from nowhere startles you so much that a yelp escapes your mouth. You whip around to find Jungkook casually standing behind you. How long has he been there? How come you didn’t hear anything? “It’s stupid and it could hurt you. You’re not even wearing proper clothes are you?” He adds while you stare at him with wide eyes.
“I-I-”
“It’s fine. I hope you’re not that stupid baby. You won’t break my trust again, will you?” Jungkook takes a slow step forward. You take one backward. He stops. “Will you?” Asks again. You shake your head almost instantly. Why the hell are you so afraid of this man? Well, you should be. Look where you are. “Good,” He smiles. That damn smile that makes his lip ring glistnes. That horrible smile that makes you shiver. Sweet. Sweet like venom. “I’ve been preparing you breakfast, wanna join me in the kitchen since now you can walk alone perfectly?” Raises his eyebrow in question. You take a moment. You don’t want to be near him. But you have to find a moment. An opportunity. You’ll not find it by scooping yourself inside his room. After a second of hesitation you nod.
………………………….
Days roll painfully slowly by you. Days spent patiently waiting for an opportunity that hasn’t arrived until now. Jungkook doesn’t leave his apartment just like you knew. He’s always there. He fascinates you at this point, truly. It’s like he possesses some secret powers to be able to do that. You’re wondering how he never faces any emergencies that require him to leave the place. Maybe that’s how unfortunate you are. Not getting the slightest of a chance to escape your luxury prison. And with every passing day, the light of your hope is growing duller and duller. You’re terrified of never getting a chance out of here. So you are afraid of anyone else never finding you ever again. It’s been more than two weeks since you've been here, but not a single person came ringing his bell saying they're here to check for a missing person.
The only people who rang his bell were the delivery men bringing his orders. Jungkook always made sure you’re out of their sight each time that happened. You don’t know why you obediently complied with him every time. Jungkook hasn’t done anything harmful to you until now. His promise is still going. Yet you find yourself terrified of him. All it takes is a scowl or straight face from him, you’re following his orders around like a little pet. You hate it. You hate yourself for being afraid of him. But for some reason you are. He may not have done any harm to you yet. That, however, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of that. There are millions of dangerous ‘what if’s going inside your brain every time you try to be a little rebellious. Which is the same reason why you’re reluctant to try on a new plan.
If Jungkook never leaves his place, that leaves you with only one option. Trying to escape while he’s still around. Extremely dangerous. If you succeed, then it’s fine. But if you don’t then that would be the end of you. You know for a fact that then Jungkook no longer would pretend to be the sweet boy he is. All starry eyes while he looks at you or the shy smiles. Sweet nicknames he uses for you or the innocent flirtings. They’d all drown under his anger and maybe he’ll break his promise then. Or he’d simply kill you. And for the record, you know you’re not a match for his strength if it ever comes to fighting him down. He’d definitely surrender you even before you properly start fighting. That leaves you hopeless. Helpless. Even the thought makes a lump form in your throat.
You swallow that lump as you focus on the man in front of you. Just happily fumbling around his kitchen like an innocent kitten. He truly does look like a bunny sometimes. Normal. Capable of deceiving anyone. Oh, how sick he makes you feel. Only if you could just hit him with something and run away. Maybe you can try. Can you? Are you capable of doing that? None of these would be a problem if he can just leave the place for a minute. Maybe he doesn’t trust you to leave you alone. Hell, he doesn’t even leave you to yourself when he showers. He made sure you’re locked inside a room while he used the guest bathroom. Not the room you slept in. And that room has a lock you’re incapable of finding how to unleash. He's a genius.
Smart motherfucker!
Well, then maybe you should play this smart. Pretend to like him. He surely acts like he’s so whipped for you. Maybe you can take advantage of that.
You perk up instantly. Now watching him with a newfound interest. He is in a white t-shirt and black slacks. His tattooed hand on display. His raven hair tousled after the shower he just had. Jungkook raises his head from the pot he’s been stirring. Probably sensing your stares. He gives you a soft smile. You try to reciprocate it but fail. You have no idea how you’re ever going to pretend to like him when your stomach churns whenever he’s too close to you.
He’s god damn handsome and that’s a given. Not even God himself would be able to argue. Jungkook is a piece of art. But still, he was the same person who put you through hell and now keeps you trapped here. And that makes him disgusting. You hate him. Completely. But you can’t let him know that. Right? You need to earn his trust. Then maybe he’ll leave you alone to yourself sometimes. Maybe he would trust you enough to not lock you in a room while he showers. So, you bite back the disgust you feel when he walks to you with a spoon in his hand.
He is making Sundubu Jjigae. Just because you said you wanted that for dinner when he asked. That’s the first thing that comes to your mouth. He brings the spoon to your mouth. You open your mouth without any reluctance. The rich broth invades your taste buds, almost making you hum in delight. You catch yourself just in time. He’s a very good cook, as you’ve come to know by now. See, he’d be a Perfect Partner if it wasn’t for the fact he's a psychopath.
You give him a nod in approval. “It’s good.” Mumble softly. You still don’t talk with him much. If you’re going to pretend to like him. Then that’d take so much work. Jungkook pouts.
“Good? That’s it? C’mon I need a perfect princess.” He walks back to the stove. “Should I throw it away and start over?” He looks at you. Eyes glinting. Yours go wide instantly. You straighten up in your stool. Head already shaking.
“No. No. I- I mean, it’s good. No- uh- it’s perfect Gu-” You shut your mouth immediately. Catching yourself. He’s not the Jeongguk you knew. And even if he is, you're not going to call him by nicknames. You feel nauseous. So much for pretending to like him. Jungkook’s face clouds by something grim for a minute before he smiles.
“Yeah?” Questions.
“Yes.” You confirm.
……………………………
You gaze out of the floor to ceiling windows of Jungkook’s living room. The night city bustles beneath you. According to your best guess, you’re at least fifteen floors high in this apartment building. That leaves you to imagine the ruckus it would cause you to reach the lobby if you manage to actually escape.
No, you shouldn’t think that way.
There’s no ifs. You’re going to escape and you’ll overcome every challenge as well. You shake your head to brush off any negative thoughts. You can always look at the bright side. At least he hasn’t taken you away from the country and your familiar city. That thought alone makes you feel a little at ease. There’s still hope. You let out a heavy sigh. Jungkook is playing a video game on his expensive TV behind you. You turn your head to take a brief glance at him. Just to make sure he’s still there. He sometimes walks around in the grace of a black panther. It always gives you heart attacks.
You look back at the outside again. Trying to imagine yourself walking among the thousands of people down there. Living a normal, busy life. Not someone’s personal amusement. You try to imagine freedom. The night air in your skin. You feel suffocated. Oh, how you wish to go outside just for a second. You’re really getting tired of this place. All you want is a one-
Your trail of thoughts get interrupted when you suddenly catch the reflection of Jungkook standing up through the window. You tense up like a bowstring, knowing very well he’d come to you. Just like you knew he lazily stalks toward you. Stands behind you. Closely. So closely that you can feel his breath on your neck. You force yourself to stay still.
If you want to pretend you like him, then you need to start somewhere.
“What is it, princess?” He mumbles sweetly. Eyes trailing past you to look at what you’ve been looking at. You almost shake your head to say it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter how bad you need to start somewhere, you don’t wish to engage in conversation with him much. It’s like a reflex. How you’re ready to run away from him. But you bite back the urge. You inhale deeply.
“Ca-can we g-go outside?” You blurt out before you can back out again. Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your reflection. Your eyes meet. “I- I mean with you of course. I- I feel like I’m getting cabin fever.” You breathe out. Jungkook says nothing. Just watches you intently. This is the most you’ve talked with him. He looks a bit surprised as well. He takes his sweet time. For a minute, it seems like he would say yes. Even a tiny bubble of hope builds inside you when it just pops out at his next words.
“I’m sorry, pretty, but no.”
You can’t help it. You absolutely can’t help how a sudden flash of anger washes through you. Weeks of frustration get to you all at once. You turn around to face him at light speed.
“Why not?” You grit your teeth.
“Because it’s not safe yet.” He answers calmly. If he notices the way your mood swings, he doesn’t show it. A strained laughter escapes you.
“When will it be safe then?” You question again. He doesn’t answer. And his silence makes you lose your patience. “You fucking can’t keep me trapped here forever Jungkook. You fucking can’t do this to me. You-” You feel your eyes prick with tears. “You fucking can’t treat to me like I’m your pet. I’m a person and- and why are you doing this to me?” You swear that you didn’t plan on crying. But the tears start to roll down as your voice cracks. Interrupted by petty sobs. “Why me?” You muffle your cries with your palm. Jungkook takes a tentative step back. Eyes wide.
“No, what?” Then he takes that step forward again. His hands grab you tightly by your shoulders. “Why would you ever think you’re trapped here (___), I already told you, I won’t do anything to harm you.” He squeezes your shoulders. In your overwhelmed state you just allow him. “I- oh, gosh princess, you’re not a prisoner here. What’s mine is yours. Consider this your home. You’re not trapped and you’re not a pet. Don’t twist things. You know I love you and I’d do anything for you.” One of his hands leaves your shoulder just to cup your face. Softly. He lifts your face upward to look at him. “Do you understand me baby? You’re not trapped.”
You blink your tears back. He’s so fucking sick. Look at the things he’s talking about. And you know showing him you’re weak isn’t going to be any help to you. You bring a shaky hand to place on his chest. Push him away weakly. He gets the hint. His hands fall limp beside him.
“Then why can’t I go outside? You brought me here without my consent Jungkook, that’s fucking kidnapping. And-” You inhale a shaky breath. You’re still very much afraid of him. But you’ll talk to him while you can. Before your fear will make you go back into your shell again. “You say you love me? After all the shit you put me through? Guess what Jungkook-” You feel the anger burning through you. “You don’t love me, you’re just sick and I fucking hate you!” You shout through the top of your lungs.
And it all happens so fast. The hurt slash across Jungkook’s eyes before they darkened with a dangerous gloom. Your words echo through the apartment before everything falls into a deadly silent state.
Then even before you know it, your back hits the glass behind you with a loud thud. Jungkook’s hand cupping your cheek so damn tight this time that an involuntary whimper leaves you. He turns your head so you’re looking dead in the eye with him. His body pressing against yours, completely caging you between him and the window.
“Take that back.” He growls. Is so close to you that you’re practically sharing one breath. His breath tingles your face. “Take that fucking back (___).” He shakes your face. His grip is too tight. You don’t know why you’re crying now. Is it because of the tight grip or the fear? Your body instantly turns limp. Useless. “You don’t mean it. You don’t hate me. Take it back.” Jungkook’s dangerous grumble turns into a shaky, breathless whimper. “Please.” You look at the hurt in his eyes with teary eyes. Your heart beating in your throat and your entire body trembling. You had thought he hit you or something. But now when the situation makes sense to your brain, you’re desperately trying to calm down. Not to die from a heart attack. “Take that back baby, please.” He pleads again. His tight grip on you, however, is a stark contrast to his pleading words.
“I-” You don’t know what you should say. You’ve ruined your plan even before you start it. You’ve said you hate him. Now your chances to gain his trust will be zero. There’s no reason to pretend anyway. You brace yourself to keep talking. Disagree with him. Consequences be damned. “You wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me, Jungkook.” Despite your best efforts, your voice comes out shaky. “If you really care, you would let me go.” You’re trying to persuade him. There’s a slim chance that it’d work. “I need to live a normal life. I-” Your words get cut off when Jungkook suddenly chuckles. He rests his forehead against you.
“Yeah? And let you go after your shitty ex again. And watch him break your heart all over again?” His grip finally loosens. He starts caressing your cheek with his thumb, instead. Surprisingly, you find yourself a little bit less disgusted. “No thanks baby. I won’t go through that hell again.” He breathes out. You close your eyes shut when you feel that breath on your lips. “It’s funny, actually. How you never saw what you have. We’re not that different. We both always wanted what hurts us the most. You never saw how I always loved you. Then you ask me why I did it? I did it because you won’t see it any other way. I just love you so much I’ll do it all over again, if I have to. I won’t just accept the defeat this time and watch you go after some loser just to get your heart broken again baby. No. Not again.”
You shoot open your eyes.
What did he say?
Again?
Always loved you?
What does he mean, again? How long has he been knowing you? A new fear makes you shiver. A sense that there’s more to this than meets the eye engulfs you. You want to question him about that. But something tells you that you will not like the answers. So, you keep quiet when he finally withdraws from you. He wipes your tears away.
“I’m sorry it had to be like this princess, but I have no other options.” He steps away from you completely. “If you hate me, then I won’t mind. You’ll learn to love me one day too. Until then let’s see how things go.” He turns around. Then stops. “When the time is right, I’ll take you out. A date maybe.”
……………………..
You stopped trying to do anything again. No more requests. No trying to pretend because you know you suck at that. Just cautiously watching him. Letting days pass by. With no opportunity to do anything except to keep yourself as far away from Jeon Jungkook as possible. Until today. This very moment.
You perk up as a knock comes on the door. It’s just another lazy but alarming day of watching him cook for you. Jungkook stops chopping cabbage. He already knew the delivery was coming. You eye him wearily as he washes his hands, gives you a soft smile and leaves the kitchen. Even these kinds of short moments give you solace. You almost drop your head into your palms when you suddenly notice it. The sleek black device on the kitchen counter. Jungkook’s phone. You straighten up immediately.
Among your many plans, trying to call someone always has been a first. Only that you never got a chance. You haven’t found any device that you can use for communication except for his phone. And obviously he keeps it with himself. Every damn time. Even when he showers. Today, however, is an exception it seems. You eye the phone on the kitchen island. Your heart beats in your throat.
He has forgotten it for sure. He doesn't allow chances for you to try anything funny. Hell, at this rate you’re sure you won’t even get a chance to escape even if he leaves you alone in this apartment. You know he’d lock you inside that damn room with that smart locking system. Jungkook controls that shit with his mobile. You know he has installed that lock in that specific room just to keep you inside. All the other rooms and doors are normal. You’ve seen it. Even the main door is normal. You know it requires a password to enter but you can freely walk out. Like a normal door would.
Maybe this would be the only chance you get. You can call someone. Or text someone. Jungkook has just gone to open the door for another delivery. But it’ll take some time. If you hurry- it’s just enough time. You lick your dry lips. Your head is pounding with indecision.
Oh, you have to at least try.
You need to do something. Being a prisoner here forever isn’t an option.
Time is ticking and you’re losing your precious opportunity.
You slide down from the stool as you slowly make it toward the phone. Your ears are ringing. Cold beads of sweat start to appear on your forehead. Your breathing comes out as shallow pants. You stand still before the phone.
There it is. Just a lifeless device. It won’t start screaming when you grab it. All you have to do is just call someone quickly. You throw a nervous glance to the doorway. He isn’t here yet. But he would be any minute.
You need to fucking hurry!
You grab the phone at almost light speed. Throwing caution to the wind, you press the power button, revealing the lock screen. You swipe the screen. In a blind hope that it wouldn’t be password protected. A disappointed sigh leaves you when the screen changes for password input. Of course, who were you kidding? He has a smart locking system and you thought he wouldn’t add a password for his device? How stupid can you be?
A low curse slips through your lips as your brain starts to run a mile a minute. Swirling around different possibilities as to what could be his password. You’re at a loss. You know nothing about him. Almost three weeks with him yet you never even bothered to know anything about him beyond his name. You don’t know his birthday. Age. You don’t know about his family. Anything that could lead you up to a possible guess. You groan as you force your brain to come up with something.
His age? Do you know that? Have you ever knew it? You wander through your memory lane. Maybe you could find a hint if you think about your time with him before this. When you thought he was just an AI. His bio. He obviously lied to you about his name but what about his age. He had that on there. It takes you a split second to remember it. You can clearly remember he was older than you. And you think you can recall his age as well.
Yes, that’s it.
The combination requires four numbers and you guess it’s the year. You do a quick calculation in your mind.
1997
You enter the numbers with trembling fingers, praying to god that it’d be the right one.
Password incorrect!
You clutch the phone tightly. Almost enough to crack it with your bare hands. Your blood roars inside your ears. Drowning all the other sounds. You glance at the doorway again. He isn’t here again. One more time. One more chance. Even tears start to prick at your eyes as you torture your mind for something. Something that he likes. Sure, you must’ve seen something. Anything. You live with him for fucks sake.
Something that’s valuable to him.
Something he lov-
Your eyes go wide. It sure can’t be right? You know something very precious to him.
You!
You let out a breathy exhale as you frantically start to enter your birth year into the keypad. You’re 99.9% positive that this wouldn’t work.
It does. The moment you type the last digit the phone unlocks.
Wow! He really is crazy. That familiar fear tugs at your guts. You have no time to dwell on that, however. There’s more pressing matters at hand. You open the phone application frantically. You can call the police. You can call one of your friends. The best option is to call the police. But you feel hesitant. What if they don’t trust you? You don’t know where this mistrust about the law comes from. In the end, you opt on dialing one of your friends. And without a doubt it’s going to be Daebi. Not that you remember other people’s numbers anyway.
You dial on Daebi’s number. Your fingers are shaking and your breath is getting caught in your throat every now and then. Same chant or prayer going through your mind.
Please don’t let him come now. Please don’t.
You enter the final number and mindlessly hit the dial button. It takes a millisecond for the screen to change into the calling page. Then it does.
D
A capital ‘D’ pops up on the screen. A saved number. You squint your eyes in annoyance. Did you get the number wrong? You have no time for this. You hang up the call immediately before dialing it again. Wait. The same ‘D’ pops up again. This number is saved on this phone.
No. That can’t be.
How and why would Jungkook has Daebi’s number on his phone. Maybe you have jumbled your memory and this isn’t her number. You feel a shiver run through your spine. This can’t be. You should try again. You hang up the call once more. Start entering it over again.
“What are you doing?”
The voice booms through the kitchen. You jump on your spot before the phone slips through your fingers at the unexpected sound. You hear a faint clank as your wide eyes turn to Jungkook. Standing at the doorway. Some grocery bags in his hand. He assesses you for a minute before storming toward you. That dark cloud envelopes him whole as you watch him drop all the bags on the counter. Rounds the table to reach you. You just stand there rooted to the floor by fear. “What the fuck were you doing (___),” He shouts. Bends down and grabs his phone, which is still unlocked. “Who the hell did you contact?” He barks. Frantically going through his call history.
A beat passes.
You watch how his expression instantly calms down.
That can’t be.
He gives you a sympathetic look.
That isn’t Daebi’s number.
Jungkook sighs. “You shouldn’t do dumb things pretty. It always ends up hurting you.” Clutches his phone tightly. “I already told you that I’m trying to protect you. But you’re still trying to betray me? You’re still trying to be that ungrateful bitch? You think your stupid friends give a fuck about you?” He takes a step toward you. His jaw clenched. You stay still. Your head spinning and your mind wandering between his words and all the possibilities as to how he has Daebi’s number. It can’t be her number. It isn’t. “How stupid you are baby. How fucking stupid are you? You could’ve called anyone, the police, someone else, but you decided to call your bitch of a best friend.” A throaty laugh escapes him. You tremble visibly. Well, you fucked up and maybe you won’t get any chance to know what’s actually happening. Jungkook would kill you before that.
Still, though, you stay rooted in place as he closes the remaining few inches between you. Not because you’re not afraid anymore. But because it’s all too much for you to give a reaction. The only thing you’re capable of doing is gasping when he suddenly grabs your wrist.
“I really didn’t want to harm you princess. When I say I’ll never cause you any harm, I meant it. But since you’re a stubborn bitch, maybe a little heartbreak and some truth will do you good.”
That’s all he says before turning around and starting to walk away. Dragging you with him. You protest weakly but without a doubt he wins.
…………………….
You sit in his gaming chair. Slightly trembling and staring blankly at his computer screen. You actually don’t give a shit about what he has to show you. Something inside you is telling you that whatever this is, it isn’t going to be good. Yet, despite your protest Jungkook leans forward over your shoulder and clicks on a file. A video file to be specific.
“I never wanted to show this to you.” He whispers in your ear. You say nothing. Just sit there stupidly watching the screen change into a sight of an unfamiliar room. Jungkook doesn’t withdraw to give you your personal space. He just stays there. You ignore his presence as you pay your jumbled attention to the screen. For a couple of minutes it’s just a still image of a room. You almost become convinced that it’s really a picture when suddenly a door to the left of the room opens. You furrow your brow as you catch a woman entering the room, her face isn’t completely visible. And the quality of the video is really shitty.
Yet you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand. An urge that something bad is about to happen lurking inside your stomach. Gut feelings.
The woman fumbles around the room. Her face is still not visible to the camera. But even from the back and with the shitty quality you think she’s familiar. Very.
You know her.
Right at the clue, she turns around. Her eyes directly land on the camera. You let out a painful breath.
Daebi!
You feel your heart squeeze. It hurts but at the same time a fleeting sense of comfort washes over you at the sight of a familiar face. Only until she turns around toward the door again, though. Only until a second figure enters the frame. A man. He doesn’t fumble around. He looks at Daebi the moment he enters and you see his face right away.
If you thought it hurt to see Daebi, your whole world collapses the moment you see the man.
Hoseok!
No.
Even before anything happens, you understand it. You feel an overwhelming urge to scream through the top of your lungs. To grab something and smash the computer into pieces. You don’t though. Are too stunned to be able to do anything. You can’t even look away. Not even when Daebi walks to Hoseok leisurely. Not even when Hoseok grabs her waist, flattening her against his chest. You keep watching when he lowers his head to catch Daebi’s mouth in a searing kiss.
No. Please God no. This can’t be right.
But it’s unfolding in front of your eyes. Their kiss turns heated quickly. Hoeseok’s hand slips from her waist to her ass. He guides them toward the bed.
No. Not Daebi. Daebi won’t do this to you. Hoseok would, yes. But not Daebi.
“This is- this..” A sob interrupts whatever you're trying to say. “It’s fake. You- you..” You don’t know what you’re talking about.
“You still don’t believe that, after everything? Even when you have the proofs” Jungkook sighs. You shake your head violently.
“You forged it. Y-you- oh, c’mon,” You chuckle between your cries. “You created a damn app to lure me into your trap. You’re a fucking genius. Of-of fucking course you edited this.” Yes, that’s exactly what happened. You nod weakly, desperate to convince yourself. Jungkook says nothing for a while. But then all of sudden he places his phone on the table. Your eyes flicker from the errotic scene of your best friend and ex- boyfriend making out on a bed to his phone screen. There’s an outgoing call.
D
Oh, you know what he’s doing. And you want to throw the phone away. You shouldn’t let him manipulate you. This all is his doing. The video. This call.
“Hello!”
You slightly jump on your seat when the unexpected voice reaches you through the phone. No one says anything.
“Hello? Kook?” Oh, you can recognize that voice anywhere. She is your best friend after all.
“Hello D.” Jungkook finally answers her. You slump in your seat. Feeling all your energy leaves your body.
“What the fuck man. You promised me you will never fucking contact me again. Why the hell are you calling me?” Daebi hisses. Jungkook gives a soft chuckle.
“Oh, it’s just that uh…” His eyes move to your shaky figure. “Your best friend here wanted to say hi.”
“What?”
Jungkook taps your shoulder. You don’t want to do that. There’s no reason. But somehow you hear your own shaky voice come from a distance.
“D-daebi?” It’s pathetic and desperate. Still hangs into a loose thread of hope.
“Shit!” Daebi curses aloud. Her voice is sharp and panicked. That loose thread of hope breaks. You just gape at the phone screen.
“Are you happy to hear from you bestie D?” Jungkook asks again. With a mockery tilt in his voice. You don’t know whether Daebi answered his question. Probably not. Because before anything, you hear a second voice.
“Baby, who’s it?” Another voice that you’ll recognize anywhere. How can you not when you have loved him with everything.
Hoseok.
And the line disconnects.
All that is left is despair. Disappointment. Disbelief. And pain. Pain everywhere. It hurts everywhere. Every breath you take, every inch of your skin, every heartbeat, it all hurts.
You can’t believe it.
But it is the truth.
You can’t control your cries. Can’t stop the gut-wrenching sobs tearing from your throat. Even start to rock yourself. Wrap your arms around your body. You need a little comfort. Otherwise you’ll die from this pain. That’s why you don’t complain or protest when Jungkook suddenly pulls you onto your feet. Just for him to sit back and drag you into his lap. You just allow him to manhandle you as you immediately curl into a ball in his lap. Hide your face in his broad chest and your fist bunching up on his t-shirt. You allow him to wrap his arms around you and rock you softly.
“I know princess, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you but you deserve to know the truth. I always tried to protect you. I’m so sorry.” He draws soothing patterns on your back. You feel his lips on your crownline.
“It’s fine, I got you. You’re going to be safe. I’m not letting you go this time.”
…………………………..
At Daebi’s place
“Who was that?” Hoseok plops next to his girlfriend on the couch.
“No one. Just another spam call.” Daebi sighs. Her face is completely pale. Hoseok takes a minute to study her expression.
“Yeah?” He mumbles. “Are you okay?” Questions just to be sure. Daebi gives him a soft smile before leaning her head against his shoulder.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just… you know how it is..”
Of course, he knows. He and Daebi always lived in a constant loop of guilt. If only either of them had found the courage to tell you earlier, when they started falling in love. Then nothing like this would’ve happened. Hoseok thinks it’s cruel how he or Daebi never got a real chance to apologize to you. He really had thought maybe he would get that chance when he last saw you at Daebi’s birthday. But no. His life is too cruel to allow him such easy chances. Now that you’ve vanished into thin air, no one can say if he’ll ever get that chance again.
It’s almost nearing a month and there’s not a single clue about you. Nobody has seen you after Daebi’s birthday. All of your friends confirmed that. And considering how they all agreed upon that you weren’t been mentally strong lately- which is entirely his fault- police have a fat suspicion that you’ve taken your own life.
But Hoseok refuses to believe it. And even though Daebi doesn’t voice it out, he knows that she doesn’t believe it either. You’re safe, and sooner or later someone will find you. He knows that.
“Yeah, I know baby.” Hoseok plants a soft kiss in her hair. “She’s alive and safe. You don’t have to worry, we’ll find her.” Reassures.
He completely misses how his girlfriend’s face grows even paler.
……………………
a.n- Let's meet with a prequel soon!!!!!!! (And loads of smut *wink*)
..............................................................................................................................
Taglist- @yunhoswrldddd @rjooniesdimples @ttanniett @targaryenluvs @winchesterkenzie @miniesjams32 @bookstoread199 @smokinghotstargirl @likemeforme @sunshinenmidnight
#bts#bts smut#smut bts#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#bts mini series#bts angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook bts#jungkook angst#yandere#yandere bts#bts yandere#jungkook yandere#bts fanfction#bts fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Little midfielder
warning: none
characters: jude x mom!reader
summary: when your baby wants to practice football but your husband is injured.
may contain spelling and translation errors!
Madrid, Spain — July 4, 2024
Benjamin, just two years old, was already obsessed with football. Every time he saw a ball, his eyes lit up and he started running after it, even though he was still learning to shoot.
Today, with the sun illuminating the yard, he held his mini soccer ball with determination, ready to convince his dad to play with him. Jude was sitting on the couch, with his leg stretched out and still in the process of recovering from his last injury, trying to follow the doctor's recommendations. He knew he needed a little more patience, but when Benji came running with the ball, his curls bouncing and an irresistible smile on his face, he felt his heart melt.
—Daddy, play, daddy!
Benji asked, holding the ball in both of his little hands and swinging it in front of his father. Jude looked at his son and, for a second, hesitated. He knew he wasn't ready to return to intense physical activities yet, but it was just a game with his son, right? Nothing else. A smile formed on his face, and he sighed.
—Okay, Ben, let's go. But slowly, huh?
The boy, excited, started jumping, while the man slowly got up. You, who was nearby, gave a warning look.
—Jude... you know the doctor hasn't released it yet, right?
—I know, I know. —He replied, taking the ball from your son's hands and lightly throwing it to the little one. —But it's just a light game, nothing more.
Benji, of course, was over the moon. He chased the ball with all the energy a two-year-old could have, his quick, clumsy steps around the yard were adorable to watch. Jude, even though he was trying to take it easy, ended up kicking the ball back to him with a little more force than he intended. The little boy stumbled as he tried to catch the ball, but soon got up, laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
—Look at that kick! —He joked, pretending to be the game's narrator. —Bellingham father against Bellingham son... and the father is having trouble moving, but the son comes with everything!
You, watching from afar, shook your head, laughing at the way your husband was turning a little joke into a competition. Your baby, all concentrated, made a clumsy kick, and the ball went straight to Jude's feet. He tried to resist the attempt, but the player's instincts took over. He adjusted his foot and gently kicked back. Benjamin ran after the ball, aiming to show his father his skills.
—Look, daddy! I'm just like you!
He spoke with that sweet child's voice, making Bellingham's heart melt even more.
He sent it and bent down a little to be at the baby's height.
—You'll be better than me, little one. But only if mommy doesn't let me play with you too soon!
Benjamin, not understanding the joke, just laughed and continued running. You, on the other hand, crossed your arms and gave Jude a warning look.
—You know you should be resting.
—I know, darling! —He replied, laughing —But how am I going to say no to this little midfielder of ours here?
You sighed, but you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the two of them together.
—Just don't get too excited, okay? And, Benji, without hurting daddy, huh?
Benjamin laughed, not really understanding, and continued chasing the ball. But even with the caution Jude was taking, he began to feel a slight pain in his knee, which made him stop and lean lightly on the garden fence. You noticed it right away and went to him, worried.
—See? I knew this would happen.
—I'm fine, babe!
He replied, still trying to keep the smile, even though he was starting to feel more uncomfortable.
Benji, realizing that the game had stopped, ran to his father and, with those curious eyes, asked:
—Does it hurt, daddy?
Jude revealed and messed up his son's curls identical to his, but without a cut.
—A little, but dad will be fine. You played very well, Little Bellingham.
You, helping Jude to sit on the sofa in the garden, looked at the little one and said:
—Now it's time to give daddy a rest, okay, sweetheart? Let's play something else for now.
Benjamin, despite being sad to stop the game, agreed and ran around the yard with the ball again. Jude watched his son, with a mixture of pride and frustration at not yet being 100% recovered.
—He's going to be an ace, right?
He commented to you, who sat next to him.
—He will! —You replied, smiling. —But only if you stop hurting yourself and teach properly.
Jude chuckled.
—Yeah, I'm trying...I just need a little more time.
As you watched his son play, Jude knew he needed to take the recovery process seriously. He wanted to be able to play with your son, train with him without any limitations, but he also knew that this would only be possible if he was patient now. And as stubborn as he was, the smile on his mini copy's face was the perfect reminder of why it was worth waiting and doing things the right way.
#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x you#dorabellingham#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x reader#real madrid#jude bellingham x mom!reader#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham imagines#jb5 x fem!reader#jb5 x reader#jb5#football x y/n#football x reader#football fanfic#football
611 notes
·
View notes
Text
a timeline of rafe cameron and obx actress!reader’s character’s relationship (+ their real life one) pt 2
season 2: the yearning
season 2 is where rafe's obsession with iris really grows
he's constantly wondering about her, and how she feels about him. he's so convinced that she hates him and will never speak to him again, but he has this feeling that she won't report him
after john b and sarah 'died', iris spends more of her free time with the pogues. she comforts jj, and often seems to end up bailing him out of trouble
but they don't know that rafe's managed to get her phone number, and he keeps sending her messages trying to explain what happened on the tarmac - she doesn't respond
he even tries to go to her work, but she's not working that day
as rafe spirals, he genuinely feels she's the only one who would be able to understand him
he messages her before he goes to the bahamas
r: "hey, i'm gonna be gone for a few days, but i still really need to talk to you, ok?"
r: "please, i need to explain"
r: "just give me a chance to explain"
r: "please"
iris has him under his first initial in her phone, just in case any of the pogues happen to see her notifications. finally, she decides to respond, if only to understand more (and to get him to stop texting her)
i: "ok"
rafe literally shouts with joy seeing her response, no matter how dry it is. she's finally acknowledged him
while he's away, iris goes to see barry. her mom has been getting worse, and in a way, barry understands what she's going through. he's surprisingly good to talk to and the pair end up smoking together more than once, venting about their lives
in his deluded state, rafe truly thinks he will be able to win iris over with the gold. he's dreaming about paying for her mom's medical bills, winning her favour and looking after iris, living their happy little lives together forever
iris and rafe finally talk at tannyhill, rafe pleading that he was just trying to protect his dad. surprisingly, she listens intently, and lets out some small 'hmms' and 'mhms'. they get back to neutral ground, though she's still torn between what to do, but inside, she knows rafe shouldn't go to prison for a mistake
side note: ward oversees the pair talking, noting his son's wildly erratic hand gestures and decides to keep an eye on whatever is going on between the two
they're good for a few days, and then the pogues return to kildare with a very much alive sarah and john b, and everything changes once again
iris was so busy working that she hadn't had much to do with the gang, until jj texts her that john b had been arrested, and that rafe had tried to shoot them all - safe to say she's disappointed
oh but she's so mad when she hears of him trying to drown sarah, and she fully ices him out again
rafe kidnapping iris was not his finest idea, but she won’t listen to him after she hears and he’s just so mad. he’s got her in his car on the side of the road, just trying to get her to listen but she keeps telling him she “knows what he did”
rafe doesn't register what he's done until the sound of her sobs cut through his internal monologue, shamefully apologising and dropping her home, not even trying to say anything more
he’s just mean mean mean in this season bc he's hurt, but also he wants iris so bad and when she won’t even look at him, he can't control his actions
iris hears from the pogues that there is a warrant for his arrest and can't help feel concerned for him, only to be both shocked and concerned at the sight of ward cameron blowing himself up, her being the one to console sarah on the pier
everything is awkward between the pogues now, but it only gets worse once they see the texts on iris's phone following rafe's release from jail, him asking to see her...
they completely shut her out, refusing to even speak to her, and it only serves to push her further into rafe's (extremely willing) arms
he wants her to stay with him for the next few days, unknowingly about to bring her into all the drama with the cross
iris and rafe end up kissing for the first time just before he manages to get the cross for himself, and from then on, it's on between them - they're all over each other. think making out against the wall, in bed, on the couch
they both understand each other, able to see through the tough facade they put on and be vulnerable around each other. at their core, they’re just two hurt kids clinging on to each other
rafe literally thinks he will combust if she ever tries to leave him after he got a taste
unfortunately for him, he tries to get her to come along with him to guadeloupe, but she refuses
"Rafe, I can't leave my mom…. she can't survive without me," Iris whispered.
"No, no, c'mon, we can go together and I'll make sure she's got a carer and everything, the best medical treatment, ok? I just - I just need you with me for this," Rafe pleaded, desperation seeping through his tone.
"I'm sorry Rafe, but I can't."
and just like that, the beginnings of their relationship crumble, leaving rafe feeling betrayed, hurt and angry, spiralling as he lost something he barely had, and leaving iris all alone on kildare once the pogues get lost at sea, vulnerable and hurting
season 2: behind the scenes
heheheheehhehe
season 2 is where rafe and iris get closer, and the flow on effects are felt between drew and obx actress!reader
the kisses they share on screen are so steamy it has fans freaking out, especially at the quick glimpses they get of their tongues melding together. even people from outside the fandom start resharing videos of the kiss with hashtags like #wantthis #hot #menext
like i'm talking hands in hair and 'rafe' gripping her waist like he's about to be torn away, pulling away panting, red lips, etc.
drew and obx actress!reader had both spent time looking forward to the kiss, each secretly reminiscing on the kiss at jd's party. neither objected when they had to redo the take multiple times
the lingering touches shared between their characters are also picked up on, with rafe often touching iris and keeping her close by the end of the season
drew and obx actress!reader spent more time together this season working to develop their relationship after the directors told them more of the series plans, growing their bond even more
the attention on season 2 is greater this time around, with more fans and more people interested in the actors personal lives
obx actress!reader posts a few behind the scenes pictures, but nothing that really gets tongues wagging
it's a picture posted by madison bailey that does, with drew and obx actress!reader lying next to each other on a yacht, the pair side by side as they appear deep in conversation. fans go crazy from all angles, from the tiny bikini she was wearing to drew only in his swim trunks
the pics of them getting clingy and touchy later on in the evening don't ever make it out however….
the cast just sigh, having flashbacks to the 'friendly kisses' the pair always seem to share after a few drinks
in interviews, fans learn of obx actress!reader spending christmas at drew's and they just go wild, convinced the pair are in a secret relationship
with rafe and iris becoming more important characters in season 2, interviewers are lining up to film with the two of them alone, and for the few that manage, the views on the clip are sky high
it's literally just drew and obx actress!reader flirting and giggling the whole time with each other
obx actress!reader 100% simps for drew, complimenting his new look to the interviewer and saying he looks so handsome. drew can only blush and look down at his hands, all shy and cute
ok but lets talk about the bloopers!
it's the scene where they're in the car, rafe begging iris to listen to him after trying to drown sarah, and drew is waving his hands around wildly and accidentally hits her in the head. drew is instantly all over her, tenderly brushing her hair away from her head, checking in on her and apologising so much. it's quiet, but the microphones pick up on drew whispering "are you ok, baby? 'm so sorry"
but yet, they're not in a relationship??? and then drew starts filming hellraiser and people become convinced he's dating odessa??? and everyone is just so confused (including drew and obx actress!reader)
but then? there's pictures posted by paparazzi of drew and obx actress!reader together in new york, seeming far too close to be platonic and cuddling up against each other? queue even more confused fans
hehehe
Q: if i were to give obx actress!reader a love interest to spice things up and build some more angst, who would you want to see???
#outer banks x reader#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron headcanons#outer banks fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe x oc#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#outer banks#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x y/n#drew x reader#drew imagine#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron#obx actress!reader#obx au#drew starkey x actress!reader#actress!reader#rafe fic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction
335 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Heartbeat Between Us VI
Summary:
Things between Y.N and Aemond get tense as her due date approaches.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Petty Disagreements, Frustration, Kissing, Allusion to Sex, Labour, Child Birth.
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 4750
A.N - Took Inspiration from Friends (The one where Rachel is late).
A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood
As Y.N’s due date approached, the final weeks of her pregnancy were a flurry of last-minute preparations.
She and Aemond made multiple trips to baby stores, ticking off the remaining items on their list: tiny baby clothes, boxes of nappies, and, of course, the pram.
Aemond, for all his intelligence and competence in other areas, found himself stumped by the bloody contraption.
One evening, they stood in the living room as he tried to fold the pram down. Y.N. sat on the sofa, watching him with growing amusement.
"How do you manage this with just a few clicks?" Aemond grumbled, pressing buttons, pulling levers, but the pram remained stubbornly upright.
Y.N. laughed so hard she clutched her belly.
"It’s not that hard. Watch." She stood up and, with a few quick movements, had the pram folded and set aside.
Aemond stared at the pram, then at her, and back at the pram. "You’re mocking me," he muttered, but a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Seeing her joy, even at his expense, was worth the mild humiliation.
They also hosted Alicent for dinner one evening and she had practically melted at the sight of the nursery.
The soft, cream and blue décor, the dragon mobile, and the carefully arranged baby furniture brought a wide smile to her face.
“Oh, Aemond,” Alicent said, her eyes bright with pride, “This is perfect. The baby will be so loved here.”
Meanwhile, Aemond had reluctantly resumed his game nights with Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena.
While he loved spending time with his siblings, Aegon’s constant teasing about Y.N. still irritated him to no end.
He was convinced that his brother harboured a playful, if not slightly serious, attraction to her.
The knowing looks Aegon would shoot him during the evenings, paired with the offhanded comments about how lucky Aemond was, drove him mad.
Yet, for Y.N.’s sake, he kept his cool—mostly.
Except for that one incident where he may or may not have accidentally on purpose shoved Aegon's head into the table when Y.N excused herself and went to the bathroom.
At home, Y.N. had taken time off from her job and settled into a comfortable routine as her pregnancy neared its end.
However, as she edged closer to 40 weeks, she grew increasingly frustrated.
"I feel like a balloon about to pop," she grumbled one evening, sprawled on the sofa while Aemond massaged her swollen feet.
Aemond, who was trying to remain calm on the outside but was secretly on pins and needles every day at work, nodded sympathetically.
"It’ll happen when the baby is ready," he said, though inside he was just as eager as she was.
Every time his phone buzzed during meetings, he found himself hoping it was her saying it was time, only to be met with disappointment.
He had taken to keeping his phone on the loudest setting, checking it obsessively, and texting her constantly to make sure she was alright.
Each day that passed without that long-awaited call made him more anxious.
The tension in the penthouse had been unbearable over the last few days. Y.N.’s growing discomfort and frustration with being overdue had turned every small annoyance into a full-blown argument.
Aemond, while trying to be as patient as possible, found himself at a loss. Everything he did seemed to irritate her.
If he tried to comfort her, she snapped. If he gave her space, she complained he was being distant. It was driving him insane, but he knew it wasn’t really her fault.
Their sex life had also dwindled into sparse encounters, because Y.N was getting too uncomfortable and Aemond was worried about hurting the baby, which Y.N took completely the wrong way and became convinced he was disgusted by her and she bawled her eyes out until he took her to bed and devoured her cunt like a starving man.
One night, things came to a head. After yet another disagreement, Y.N. stormed off to the spare room and slammed the door shut, refusing to speak to him for two days.
Aemond, for his part, left her alone, but the silence between them weighed heavily, filling the apartment with a tension that was almost suffocating.
He kept telling himself it was just the stress and hormones, but it didn’t make it any easier.
And neither did Aegon's closeness to Y.N, it would grate on Aemond consistantly, that he would bear the brunt of her frustration but Aegon would get the smiles and the joy when he would sneak her chilli cheese bites from Burger King or Hot Wings from KFC.
Even Daeron was granted her smiles but him nooooo he was only granted the version of her that resembled a man eating beast from those damn movies she liked so much.
Sometimes she would glare at him and Aemond was convinced that she was about to eat him alive.
The tension only grew worse when they attended her final midwife appointment. They sat in the examination room, the air thick with unspoken frustrations.
As they waited for the midwife, Marie, to arrive, Aemond began rhythmically tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.
Y.N. shot him a glare. “Tell me, Aemond, have you always been this irritating?” she snapped.
Aemond frowned, glancing over at her. "I'm not trying to irritate you."
"Well, I guess you just have a natural talent for it," she retorted, her voice sharp and biting.
Aemond sighed, leaning back in the chair. "You know, the midwife will be here soon. Maybe we shouldn’t speak until then."
Y.N. pulled a face, her irritation flaring even more. "Oh, okay then," she said mockingly.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the room filled with palpable tension.
But Y.N., too restless to let it go, spoke up again.
"Seriously, Aemond, breathe louder. That’s great," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Aemond clenched his jaw, shooting her a look. "You know, we should probably ask the midwife if she even knows how to deliver a baby that’s half human and half pure evil."
Before Y.N. could respond, the door opened, and Marie entered the room, wearing her usual kind smile.
"Good morning, Marie! How are you?" Y.N. greeted her with a smile that was shockingly pleasant considering the argument she’d just been having.
Aemond shot her a sideways glance, his frustration bubbling over. "Oh, so you’re nice to her," he muttered darkly.
Y.N. rounded on him, her eyes flashing with irritation. "She has the drugs," she hissed through gritted teeth.
Marie, ever professional, pretended not to notice the exchange as she began her checkup.
"Alright, Y.N., let’s have a quick look," she said gently. Y.N. lay back on the examination table, opening her legs as Marie prepared for the exam.
"Eight days late now, huh? You must be getting pretty uncomfortable," Marie commented sympathetically.
Y.N. let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, just a bit," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.
Aemond scoffed beside her, but said nothing more.
Marie began the examination, then smiled up at them. "Well, you’re 80% effaced, so things are definitely progressing. But it could still take a little while longer," she explained. "If you’re feeling anxious, there are a few ways to help things along."
"Do them" Aemond blurted out, leaning forward.
The stress of the last few days, combined with his helplessness in this situation, was starting to show.
Marie gave him an understanding smile. "Actually, they’re things you can do at home. Some natural remedies that have been shown to be effective in helping labour along."
Y.N. nodded eagerly. "We’re ready to try anything," she said.
Marie began to list off the options. "Well, there’s an herbal tea you can try, eating spicy food, and taking long walks—"
"Great," Y.N. interrupted. "I’ll do those."
Marie smiled but hesitated for a moment before continuing. "However, there’s one remedy that’s proven to be most effective in encouraging labour-and that’s sex."
Y.N. looked at Aemond with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but Aemond’s face immediately fell into a look of disbelief.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, rubbing his temple.
Aemond and Y.N sat in the penthouse, the dinner table littered with empty plates from what felt like the hundredth spicy meal they'd shared in hopes of triggering labour.
Y.N poked at her remaining enchilada, sighing in frustration.
"Aemond, we've tried all the spicy food. It's not working," she said, exasperated.
Aemond, ever determined, pushed a small plate toward her.
"Okay, how about one of these peppers? It’s supposed to be really hot." He sounded so sure of himself, as he picked on up and took a bite.
Gasping in surprise when the spice burnt his mouth.
Y.N looked at him, rolled her eyes, but took the pepper anyway, popping it into her mouth.
She chewed it with no visible reaction, much to Aemond’s disbelief.
His eye widened as he watched her, while he took a sip of water to cool his burning tongue.
"I feel nothing," she said, almost too casually, as Aemond continued to sip from his glass. Y.N then looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Speaking of hot, watching you struggle with that pepper really makes me want to have sex with you."
Aemond nearly choked on his water, setting the glass down with a thud.
"Stop it," he muttered, wiping his mouth.
"Oh, come on," Y.N teased. "Why are we wasting time with all this other stuff? We know what's going to work. It's midwife recommended."
"We have to have some boundaries," Aemond said sternly, his resolve trying to hold firm.
Y.N scoffed. "You didn’t care about boundaries when you were putting the baby in there." She crossed her arms and raised a brow at him.
Aemond shot her a look. "As I recall, you were also an active participant."
Y.N waved her hand dismissively. "That’s not the point, and you know it."
Aemond sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I’m not going to make love to you just so you’ll go into labour."
Y.N laughed loudly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Make love? What are you, a girl?"
"Always a great way to get into a man’s pants," Aemond muttered sarcastically, rolling his eye.
"No-come on wuss, make loooove to me" said Y.N smirking.
"Seriously-" exclaimed Aemond.
Y.N leaned forward, her voice dripping with humour. "Come on, just think of it as providing a service. Just think of me as a ketchup bottle—sometimes you’ve gotta bang on the end of it to get something out."
Aemond shot her a deadpan look, his voice flat. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."
"Aemy-" Y.N whined, pouting a little as she leaned her elbows on the table. "I’m miserable here." She looked at him with wide eyes, batting her lashes playfully, and the use of her nickname for him weakened his resolve.
Aemond clenched his jaw. "You—what—never mind."
"What, Aemy? Are you not going to talk?" she teased, mockingly. "How on earth will you ever annoy me? Oh, wait a minute, I know—" She exaggerated her breathing, mimicking the way Aemond breathed loudly, then added with a smirk, "You’d think that damn pepper would’ve cleared your sinuses, but nooo-"
Before she could say anything more, Aemond lunged toward her, pulling her into a deep, heated kiss that took her by surprise.
Y.N blinked up at him, breathless. "What are you doing?"
He took her hand firmly, standing up and pulling her toward the bedroom, his face set with determination. "I’m getting that baby out of you."
Aemond was jolted awake by the sound of a pained cry and the sharp clatter of glass smashing. His heart pounded in his chest as he shot up in bed, immediately noticing that Y.N. wasn’t beside him.
Panic surged through him as he leapt out of bed, rushing toward the source of the noise.
Entering the kitchen, he found Y.N. hunched over, clutching the counter, her face twisted in pain. A shattered glass lay scattered across the floor.
"Y.N.?" he called out, his voice tight with concern.
She turned her head toward him, her face pale and strained. "I think it's time," she gasped before letting out another cry, her body wracked with pain.
Without hesitation, Aemond carefully made his way over, avoiding the broken glass, and gently took her hand. She clung to him, shaking as he helped move her away from the mess.
Y.N. suddenly gasped, looking down as a trickle of water began to run down her legs. Her wide eyes met his, fear and excitement swirling within them.
"It's definitely time," Aemond confirmed, trying to remain calm despite the rapid thudding of his heart.
"I need to get changed first," she whispered through laboured breaths.
Aemond helped her to the bedroom, supporting her as they slowly made their way across the penthouse.
He carefully dressed her in comfortable clothes, his fingers trembling as he moved. Then he quickly threw on jeans and a shirt, grabbing the suitcase Y.N. had packed weeks ago.
Just as they were about to leave, another contraction hit, and Y.N. cried out in pain, her hand clutching Aemond’s forearm tightly.
His heart ached at the sight of her discomfort, but he stayed steady, whispering reassurances.
"You're doing great. Just breathe," he murmured, kissing her forehead.
He grabbed his car keys, and together, they made their way out of the penthouse.
The drive to the hospital was agonizing for Aemond, though he tried his best to keep calm.
Every pained cry or sharp gasp from Y.N. made his hands tighten on the wheel, his heart clenching painfully.
He hated seeing her in so much discomfort, knowing there was little he could do but get her to the hospital as quickly as possible.
Finally, they arrived. Aemond parked the car and immediately helped Y.N. inside, gripping her hand as she leaned on him for support.
He helped her check in at the front desk, and she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling.
"Please, don’t leave me," she whispered, her fear evident.
Aemond's heart clenched, and he pulled her closer, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "I won’t ever leave you. I promise."
"I-I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you"
"It's ok-it's all forgotten" replied Aemond.
As she was being checked over by the nurses, Aemond quickly sent off a text to his mother, letting her know that Y.N. was in labour.
He then shot off a quick message to Helaena, knowing she’d take care of informing Aegon and Daeron.
The moment he heard Y.N. calling for him, his phone was forgotten. He rushed back into the room, his heart pounding with urgency.
"I'm here," he said softly, taking her hand in his as he knelt beside her. "I’m not going anywhere."
Hours had passed, and the labour had intensified. Y.N was in agony as each contraction ripped through her body, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Aemond remained at her side the entire time, unable to bear seeing her like this. His heart ached with every pained cry she made.
He had lashed out at the midwives more than once, demanding they do something—anything—to help her.
But all they could do was reassure him that everything was progressing as it should.
Despite his own helpless frustration, Aemond never let go of Y.N's hand, even as she squeezed it with such force he was sure his bones would crack under the pressure.
But he would endure it without a second thought. Pressing kisses to her sweat-soaked forehead, he whispered constant encouragement, telling her to breathe, reminding her she was doing great.
And then, it was time to push.
Y.N cried out, her strength nearly spent. "I don’t know if I can keep doing this," she gasped, her voice trembling with exhaustion.
Aemond immediately leaned in, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice low but firm. "Yes, you can. You’re the strongest, smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I can’t live without you." His words were filled with so much love and admiration that despite her pain, Y.N found the strength to push again.
The midwife, Marie, encouraged her as the baby’s head crowned. "Just one more, Y.N. You’re so close!"
With a final scream, Y.N pushed, and suddenly, the sound of a baby’s strong, healthy cries filled the room.
Aemond’s voice trembled as he whispered, "He’s here. Oh, gods, he’s here."
Y.N, exhausted, collapsed back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
But Aemond’s joyful cry brought her back. She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, her chest heaving as she took in the sight of their newborn son.
Aemond, eyes filled with unshed tears, helped her sit up, his hands trembling.
As Marie placed the squalling, wriggling newborn onto Y.N's chest, happy tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Oh, he’s so beautiful," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion as she gazed down at their son.
Aemond, who rarely allowed his emotions to show so openly, sobbed quietly as he stared at the tiny life they had created.
His eye was glued to the baby’s small, delicate features—his tiny hands, his soft, silver hair, and those piercing blue eyes.
"He looks just like you," Y.N said softly, running her fingers through the baby’s soft hair. She smiled up at Aemond, who was rendered speechless by the overwhelming love he felt.
His child. Their son.
Marie gently asked, "Does he have a name?"
Y.N nodded, her voice filled with pride and love. "Jack Aemond Targaryen."
As the midwife, Marie, finished wrapping up baby Jack in a soft blanket, she turned to Aemond and asked, "Would you like to hold your son?"
Aemond froze, panic flashing in his eye. "I-I've never held a baby before."
Marie smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry, I’ll show you how." With practiced hands, she gently placed Jack into Aemond’s arms, guiding him on how to support his tiny head.
Slowly, Aemond’s tension melted as he adjusted, the weight of his son both heavy with responsibility and light as a feather.
Before he knew it, Aemond was grinning, a quiet, proud smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at his son. Jack squirmed slightly but remained peaceful in his arms, so small and perfect.
Aemond's chest tightened with an overwhelming rush of emotion. The world around him seemed to blur, everything else vanishing as he stared at the life he had helped create.
As the midwives began tending to Y.N and the afterbirth, Aemond remained mesmerized by his son. The reality of fatherhood hit him hard in this quiet moment.
When Y.N had first told him she was pregnant, he had offered his support immediately, without hesitation. But deep down, he’d been terrified. His own father had been distant, cold—an example of everything a father shouldn’t be.
Aemond had no idea how to be a good father, how to give his son the love and care he deserved.
But now, holding Jack in his arms, a surge of love, unlike anything he had ever felt, filled him. He vowed silently, with everything in him, that his son would never feel the same isolation and neglect that he had experienced.
Jack would always know he was loved, that Aemond was there for him in every way. He would give his son the attention and affection that he himself had longed for.
Once Y.N had been helped and everything was sorted, Marie mentioned she could take a shower to freshen up.
Aemond carefully placed Jack in his cot and immediately went to help Y.N. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, the exhaustion of labour evident, so Aemond stayed close, supporting her as they made their way to the bathroom.
He washed her hair gently, his hands tender as he helped her clean up, mindful of her every movement.
She had already started bleeding, so he helped her with the pad and assisted in getting her dressed.
When they returned, he had pulled a few strings and arranged for Y.N. to have a private room.
Once she was comfortable and laid in bed, Aemond couldn’t resist stroking her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her, soft and full of love.
Y.N's fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, and she whispered, "You keep kissing me."
Aemond pulled back slightly, worry creeping in. Was he pushing too much? Overwhelming her with affection when she might need space?
"Do you-want me to stop?" he asked, his voice careful, trying to hide his uncertainty.
Y.N’s fingers brushed over her lips, and she quickly replied, "No."
A wide smile broke across Aemond's face, his relief and happiness palpable. "I'm happy, Y.N. So happy."
She touched his face, her eyes soft and filled with emotion. "So am I."
This was it—the moment he had been waiting for. Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath.
Now or never. He leaned closer, his heart swelling with emotion. "I-I want to tell you that I lov—"
Before the words could leave his lips, the door burst open. Aegon strutted in, followed closely by Alicent, Daeron, and Helaena.
Aemond bit back a groan, his moment lost as his family swarmed into the room.
Alicent’s face lit up with joy as she carefully took Jack into her arms for the first time. Her eyes softened as she gazed down at her first grandchild, her smile tender and full of love.
"Oh, he's beautiful," she whispered. She gently rocked him, her heart swelling as she savoured the moment. “What’s his name?”
Aemond, standing proudly beside Y.N’s bed, smiled and said, “Jack.”
Alicent raised her brows slightly, surprised. “Jack? It’s not very Targaryen,” she remarked, though her tone was more curious than critical.
Aemond nodded. “It’s in honour of Y.N’s grandfather.”
At that, Alicent’s face softened even more. She nodded approvingly, clearly touched by the gesture.
"That's lovely," she said, staring down at her grandson with pride and affection.
Of course, Aegon couldn’t resist making his presence known. “So, Y.N.,” he asked with a mischievous grin, “how much did it hurt?”
Y.N. narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. “How about I kick you in the balls, and then you’ll have an idea?”
Aegon grimaced, backing off slightly as Daeron burst into laughter. “She’s got you there,” Daeron teased, clapping Aegon on the back.
Meanwhile, Helaena stood nearby, completely mesmerized by her tiny nephew. She leaned in, peering at him with wide, curious eyes. “He’s so perfect,” she murmured, utterly enamoured.
Suddenly, Jack began to cry, his small face scrunching up as the sound filled the room.
Alicent chuckled softly. “Sounds like someone is hungry,” she said as she carefully handed him back to Y.N.
Y.N. exposed her breast and gently guided Jack to latch on, and he began to nurse immediately, his cries fading.
A moment of quiet awe fell over the room as they watched the newborn find comfort in his mother’s arms.
Daeron shook his head in disbelief, glancing over at Aemond. “I still can’t believe you’re a dad,” he said, smiling.
Aemond, beaming with pride, hugged his younger brother. “Neither can I,” he admitted, his voice full of wonder.
Aegon, true to form, was less subtle. His attention was quickly drawn to Y.N. breastfeeding. “Whoa, look at him go. He’s definitely your kid, Aemond.”
Without missing a beat, Aemond slapped Aegon on the back of the head. “Don’t look at her breast, you pervert.”
Aegon shrugged, rubbing his head. “It was an accident.”
Aemond, his patience wearing thin, glared at him. “Get the fuck out,” he demanded.
Leaning over, Aegon pressed a soft kiss to Y.N.’s forehead. “I’ll come back soon.”
Y.N., still nursing Jack, smiled up at him and said, “Can you bring me a chocolate bar and some Lucozade when you do?”
“Anything for you, Y.N.,” said Aegon with a cheeky grin as he sauntered out of the room, completely ignoring Aemond’s death glare.
As Aegon left, Daeron leaned in and whispered to Aemond, “He’s doing it on purpose. Ignore him, and he’ll give up.”
Aemond huffed. “He’ll give up when my fist is in his face.”
Y.N. suddenly yawned, exhausted from the day’s events. Noticing, Aemond turned to the others. “Alright, that’s enough excitement for one day. It’s time for Y.N. to rest.”
Alicent leaned over and kissed Y.N. gently on the cheek. “You did so well, my dear. Rest now,” she said softly.
Helaena smiled warmly. “I’ll make some meals for you both, so you won’t have to worry about cooking once you’re home.”
Aemond nodded in gratitude as Daeron gave him a firm clap on the back.
“Take care of her and the little one,” Daeron said, waving goodbye to Y.N. as the family made their way out.
After Jack finished nursing, Aemond carefully lifted him to rub his back, gently patting until the baby let out a small burp.
Smiling, Aemond placed him in the little cot beside Y.N. and tucked him in under the soft blanket Helaena had made.
Y.N., exhausted but happy, looked at Aemond. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”
Aemond nodded immediately. “Of course.”
He sat beside her, taking her hand in his, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him.
He glanced down at their sleeping son, so small and perfect, and then over to Y.N., who had already begun to drift off, her breathing steady and calm.
Aemond smiled to himself, squeezing her hand gently, thinking how lucky he was to have both of them in his life.
Aemond hurried back to the penthouse, his mind still swirling with the overwhelming realization that he was now a father.
He moved almost on autopilot as he showered and changed into fresh clothes, but the feeling of awe and disbelief remained.
He had a son. His son. It felt surreal.
As he was about to leave for the hospital, he decided to stop by a florist and picked up a bouquet of sunflowers—Y.N.’s favourite.
He wanted to make her smile, to show her how much she meant to him, especially after everything she'd just gone through.
Returning to the hospital, Aemond's good mood evaporated the moment he walked into the room and saw Aegon sitting beside the bed, holding Jack. His brows furrowed as he asked, “Where is Y.N.?”
Aegon, lounging comfortably, glanced up with a grin. “She’s just nipped for a shower. She asked me to watch Jack. Is that okay with you?” he added with a slightly cheeky tone, knowing it would irk Aemond.
Aemond narrowed his eye but sighed. “I suppose so.”
Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Y.N. appeared, looking refreshed in clean pyjamas, her hair wrapped in a towel.
A bright smile crossed her face when she saw Aemond standing there. “Oh, you’re back!” she said warmly, walking over to him.
Aemond wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a soft kiss.
“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips before handing her the sunflowers.
Y.N.’s face lit up as she took the flowers. “They’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you,” she said, kissing him again.
Aemond, still basking in her smile, then turned his attention to Jack. He took the baby from Aegon, holding his son close to his chest, instantly feeling that surge of love again as he stared at the tiny face nestled in his arms.
Meanwhile, Aegon reached for a small carrier bag sitting next to him. “Oh, by the way, I got you something,” he said, handing it to Y.N.
She peeked inside and immediately let out a squeal of excitement. “A chocolate bar and Lucozade!”
She hugged Aegon in appreciation before eagerly unwrapping the chocolate and taking a big bite. “You have no idea how much I needed this,” she sighed contentedly.
Aemond watched with a small smile but raised an eyebrow when Y.N. turned to him with more news. “Oh, while you were gone, the midwives said I could go home.”
His smile faded slightly with concern. “Already? Isn’t it a little too soon?”
Y.N. shook her head. “I’d much rather be at home. We can start getting Jack into a routine, and I’ll be more comfortable there.”
Aemond considered it for a moment before nodding. It did make sense. He wanted them home, too—where he could make sure both Y.N. and Jack had everything they needed. “Alright, if you’re sure.”
Aegon piped up then, smirking. “I’ll give you guys a hand.”
Aemond shot him a look. “I’m more than capable of handling it.”
Aegon held up his hands in mock surrender. “I know, but if you’re carrying Jack, you can’t expect Y.N. to carry her suitcase after just having a baby.”
Aemond clenched his jaw, annoyed but unable to argue. Aegon was right.
Before he could reply, the midwife entered the room with a smile and a folder of paperwork. “I’ve got your discharge papers here,” she said, glancing at Y.N. and then Jack.
Aemond sighed, knowing that Aegon’s presence would continue to irritate him, but he focused on the positive—his family was going home, and that was what mattered most.
TBC
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#hotd fanfic#aemond fic#hotd fic#aemond one eye#aemond#aemond x reader#aemond smut
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Witch’s Bargain
Summary: On a journey led by Agatha, a haunting ballad promises power. When the ritual turns deadly, you remain the sole survivor.
Warnings: side character death, obsessive behavior (kinda but not really but still…?)
Word count: 1.7k
~Agatha Harkness x witch!reader~
Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks
~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
Here you stood ready for the future and it looked bright. You heard stories about the road about what it could give to people that made it to the end. Alas nobody ever did… well Agatha did but the others always died.
You were determined to make it, you and your little coven made out of your closest friends. The four of you and Agatha would start the journey tonight right before the sun disappeared behind the trees.
So you hiked to the place where she told you to be. Exited and with a tiny pep in your step, you weren’t nervous like the others, you needed an answer to your question, and you were going to get it.
After arriving you saw Agatha waiting. She was leaning on a three with a bell in her hand. She looked up and smirked, “You all know the song? If not… well then we’re going to have a problem.”
You looked back at your friends expectedly, when they gave you a nod you answered the woman in front of you, “Yes we know it.” You said with a shimmer of excitement in your eyes.
“Great, let’s begin then shall we?” Agatha started the song with the ringing of a bell. You were caught off guard by the sudden sound.. you weren’t expecting a bell, but you still took it as a sight to take your position in the circle.
You stood on the side of the formation, mindlessly singing the song that you knew by heart. You didn’t notice that it had ended until you saw your friends shooting their magic at Agatha.
You didn’t know what to do so you did what you thought was right and joined your friends.
One by one you saw there lifeless bodies fall, you tried to stop your magic but it wasn’t working, you couldn’t stop it.
So you closed your eyes and waited for the inevitable moment of death, but it didn’t come… you slowly opened your eyes to be met with the stunned ones of the only person left.
Agatha just stood there arms still open from taking your friends’ powers, “How?” you heard her silently whisper to herself. “You.. what did you do? Who are you? Why isn’t it working?” She yelled angrily.
You looked at the bodies of your friends taking a few steps back, but Agatha had other plans. “No, you don’t get to walk away, give me answers..!”
You took another step back, your eyes darting from Agatha’s intense gaze to the bodies of your friends, lying pale and still in the dirt. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to put as much distance as possible between yourself and this woman who had single handedly killed three other withes in just a few seconds.
But Agatha had other ideas. She strode toward you with a slow, purposeful step, eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of curiosity and delight. There was no anger in her face anymore, no frustration at her failed attempt to drain your power. Instead, her expression was one of twisted fascination, like she had stumbled upon something more precious than she could have ever hoped for.
“Oh, little y/n,” she murmured, her voice soft but edged with something sharp and dangerous. “You have no idea how rare you are, do you?” Her eyes gleamed as she tilted her head, studying you from every angle. “Tell me, how does it feel to be the one who got away? The one I couldn’t break?”
You swallowed, feeling the press of her words as if they were claws scratching down your spine. “I… I don’t know why it didn’t work,” you managed, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what’s different about me.”
Agatha’s lips curled into a smirk, a spark of obsession flaring in her gaze. “Oh, I believe you. But that only makes this more fascinating, doesn’t it? I’m starting to think you don’t even understand the power you hold. But that’s alright, darling. I have all the time in the world to help you… discover it.”
She lifted her hand, fingers brushing the air between you both, close enough that you could feel the prickling heat of her magic. You flinched but held your ground, refusing to let her see the fear twisting in your chest.
“You’re scared,” she whispered, a laugh caught in her throat. “But there’s something else there too, isn’t there? Curiosity.” She leaned in, her face inches from yours, her voice dropping to a low, almost seductive murmur. “You want to know why I couldn’t take what I wanted from you. You want to understand what makes you different. Oh, y/n… you’re just as intrigued by me as I am by you.”
You clenched your fists, anger sparking in your gut. “I’m nothing like you.”
Her eyes flashed, and a wicked grin spread across her face. “Oh, but aren’t you?” She reached out, and before you could pull away, her fingers brushed your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes. “I can see it, you know. That fire in you, burning so bright and fierce. Power, unrestrained… yet somehow untouchable. Like a rare, precious gem.”
Her grip tightened, her thumb tracing a slow line along your jaw. “I could study you for years, y/n. Peel away every layer, uncover every secret.” Her voice softened to a whisper, her gaze darkening. “And I would never tire of it.”
Your stomach twisted, and you pulled free, backing away. But Agatha’s gaze stayed on you, unwavering, as if she could see right through you, see every thought, every weakness. The hunger in her eyes was as palpable as a knife pressed against your throat.
“You can’t run from this, y/n,” she said, a note of amusement lacing her tone. “From me. Whatever magic kept you safe tonight, it won’t protect you forever.” She gave a slow, mocking smile. “I’ll be there, in every shadow, waiting… watching. And when you finally come to me, when you beg to understand what makes you special…” She leaned closer, her breath warm against your cheek. “I’ll be there to take it all.”
The weight of her promise lingered in the air between you, and as she stepped back, her smile held a dark satisfaction, as if she’d already won. With a flick of her wrist, she vanished into the shadows, her laughter echoing in the clearing.
You were alone, surrounded by silence, the bodies of your friends lying still and cold around you. And yet, you felt her presence, the ghost of her touch, her words seeping into your mind like a poison. You had escaped her once, but as you looked down the dark, twisted path before you, you knew one thing with chilling certainty.
Agatha would never let you go. And, somehow, she knew that a part of you would never truly want her to.
You stood there, your heartbeat pounding in the silence, Agatha’s words lingering in the air like smoke. She’d vanished, but the weight of her promise pressed against your chest, inescapable, inevitable. The road ahead was dark, twisted with secrets you could barely begin to unravel on your own. And Agatha knew that. She knew exactly how badly you wanted to understand this strange power inside you—this magic she couldn’t steal, even though it had cost your friends their lives.
Her laughter echoed faintly in your memory, and as you closed your eyes, it was almost as though she was there, waiting, watching, just out of sight.
You took a breath, steadying yourself. Then, in a voice that barely rose above a whisper, you said, “Agatha.”
The shadows shifted, and in an instant, she was there again, emerging from the darkness as if she’d never left, her eyes glinting with anticipation. She folded her hands in front of her, looking at you with that same unsettling mixture of hunger and amusement, as though she’d been expecting this all along.
“Yes, darling?” she drawled, a smile curving her lips. “Changed your mind already?”
You swallowed, gathering your courage. “I… I want to know more about my power. About why you couldn’t take it from me.”
Her smile widened, but she waited, her silence drawing you further into her web.
“And you know things,” you continued, your voice steadier now. “You understand magic in ways I… can’t even begin to comprehend. If you teach me… if you show me everything you know… I’ll let you study me. You can try to figure out what makes me different.”
Agatha’s eyes lit up, her face glowing with delight as though you’d just handed her the world on a silver platter. She took a step closer, close enough that you could feel the pull of her presence, the way her very being seemed to draw you in, impossible to resist.
“Oh, little y/n,” she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You and I are going to have so much fun together.”
You shivered as she reached out, her fingers grazing your cheek, her touch cold but electric, leaving a trail of tingling energy in its wake. “This will be our little… arrangement, then,” she murmured, eyes darkening with excitement. “You’ll let me study that precious power of yours. And in return, I’ll teach you everything I know every spell, every secret, every shadowed corner of magic that only I understand.”
Her smile grew sly, her hand drifting down to cup your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. “But know this, y/n,” she said softly, her voice a dangerous purr. “Magic is a two-edged blade, and I don’t believe in half-truths. If you come to me, I’ll show you everything. The beauty and the darkness. The price of true power.”
You held her gaze, the fire in your chest flaring brighter, stronger, refusing to be dimmed. “That’s exactly what I want, Agatha,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Show me everything.”
She chuckled, her laugh soft and deadly, and the sound of it sent a thrill through you, both thrilling and terrifying. Her grip softened, fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary, as though savoring the touch.
“Good,” she whispered as she drew back, her eyes glinting with a mixture of triumph and anticipation, you knew there was no turning back. You’d made your choice, stepped willingly into her dark embrace. Whatever lay ahead… the secrets, the dangers, the dark allure of her magic, you would face it together, bound by a deal that neither of you would ever break.
And somewhere, deep down, you wondered if this was exactly where you were meant to be all along.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
Fin <3
Taglist:@midnight-lestrange
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
drunk habits — various characters ☆彡
summary — him and his small drunk habits.
characters — kaveh, venti, tighnari, cyno, wanderer, alhaitham, ayato, kazuha, diluc (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — kind of fluff, a little bit of crack also, drunk drunk drunk, not proof-read; headcanons
words — 1289
note — was supposed to publish this yesterday but got busy so it's just now, i'll be working on the requests later!
KAVEH — He reminds you of those people who'll randomly say how your life will turn to doom as you walk down the streets before then disappearing from your sight. He spills unbelievable secrets and shocking gossip, one that you don't even know exists and feels like it's exaggerated, to you when he gets drunk after some glasses of strong alcohol. He'll give out so much juicy details and tea that will keep you on edge on your seat and asking for more but once you throw him a question, he doesn't respond and you'll only be greeted with silence—it is when you'll realize that he has fallen asleep. If he's not asleep, either in some random place or just on his chair, you'll find him creating architectural designs that he wouldn't remember the next morning he'll wake up.
VENTI — Years or maybe millennia of being used to the taste of alcohol in his tongue and the burning feeling of the liquid on his throat had made his tolerance of it grow and become stronger. However, it doesn't mean that he doesn't get drunk in his every drinking session in the tavern or anywhere. He makes it a goal to reach that level of intoxicatedness every time, those moments and ways of him dancing around as he sings a gleeful and joyful song with you, spinning you around and swaying your body to the rhythm along with his. It's either that or he's making stupid pickup lines to you: "Are you a fart? Because you just blew me away," or "Are you not tired? Because you've been running around my mind all day," which will make you sigh as you urge him to shut up but he continues.
TIGHNARI — You’re at a party, hell yeah, but you’re inside the bathroom stalls, vomiting while your hair is being held back by a certain man who goes by the name Tighnari who also happens to be your boyfriend. He's the type of person to only drink a few glass and would prefer looking after everyone, especially you, so he doesn't drink much. However, when things go south and everything turns away from the path it was supposed to go down to, when he gets drunk, let's just say that he has a lot to stay and becomes a little bit grumpy—asking to be doted on and showered with affection by you. While his personality still remains, some bits of him just turns into a 360 like how he blabbers and talks about a certain topic he seems to be obsessed with.
CYNO — He would deny a few offers to drink a glass but then would give in just so to stop the pestering. He doesn't like to drink nor even attend such parties that mainly revolve around alcohol because getting drunk would put him in a vulnerable state but what's wrong with trying it once in a while? You could hardly tell if he is drunk at first but once you recognize the light and warm shade on his cheeks, the realization will strike you like lightning. He tries to act sober, walking in a straight line and not slurring out his words but he fails, maybe not miserably but he fails because he stumbles on his pacing and says words that make his sentences confusing and hard to understand. Speak about the events on the next day, however, and he will shoot you a glare.
WANDERER — A few glasses and maybe more and you find him much grumpier than ever—he's annoyed with all of the noises, sounds, and probably also lights happening all around him, demanding his attention and overwhelming him so he steps out of the place to get some fresh air. However, he's still irritable and would be more demanding to you, specifically your attention. Let's just say that this man when drunk will become the neediest person on earth ever. Putting him in bed, tucking him to sleep, becomes an easier task for you though not until he's grabbing on to your hand so tightly even as he slowly drifts to unconsciousness which leads to you staying by his side until his grip loosens up—it will only happen after an hour or so—and you can finally leave or perhaps, you could sleep beside him if you won't be able to shake off his grasp.
ALHAITHAM — He could handle his alcohol really well, in fact, if you'll challenge him to a drinking session to see who's the first to get drunk, he'll win no matter what—even if his head is already spinning and he's seeing two or three of the same thing at once. He becomes a rambling and chatty person, however, and often mixes words from another language to the conversation which creates confusion. When you'll ask him what the word means, he'll respond in another language which causes you to just give up and pretend that you understand what he is saying. If you were to compare him to his sober self to his drunk one, you could say that they are essentially the same but also fundamentally different as he still retains majority of his personality and adding only a little bit to it.
AYATO — Just like the people who prefer looking after everyone else and watching out for them so that they don't end up doing anything dangerous. He's extremely aware of what is happening to him and his surroundings, being on guard and attentive as always. He still pretty much maintains the responsible demeanor of him, drinking only in moderation, however, things can happen and it will be late until he realizes he's drunk and the alcohol is getting to his head already. That is when he gets—how do you say this?—a little bit reckless and careless, he takes off his clothing one by one and reasons that he's getting hot and he doesn't want to feel sweaty. He becomes flirty or maybe he's just forgetful because he confesses his love for you out of nowhere and asks you to be his.
KAZUHA — An idiotic fool who is stupidly affectionate when he gets drunk. He's not a lightweight nor a heavyweight but in every drinking occasion, he is always drunk. There is literally little to nothing changes in his behavior, he's still the same composed and sweet man that you know, just a little bit outgoing and friendly to everyone. In addition, he also becomes extra nice and a little bit energetic, becoming cheerful and everything but he will eventually become quiet and silent and soon you'll find him asleep on the chair he is sitting right after, this happens as soon as his energy is depleted. The next morning when he wakes up, he'll be greeted by the bright afternoon sun shining on his face and a major headache as he suffers from a hangover and he'll say to himself not to drink again.
DILUC — He doesn't admit it nor does he deny that he is drunk. When his drink has taken over his rationality, he becomes—admittedly— adorable and the clingier side of him comes out as he tries to be close to you as much as possible, not wanting you to leave his side even if you're just going to get some water for him so that he could sober up for a bit. He'll have you sitting on his lap or beside him as he wraps his arms around your figure, his head resting against your shoulders as he breathes in your scent. If you stand up and walk around, he'll follow you, his height and body towering over you as he stays so close to your back and if you'll ask him what he is doing, he would only respond with nothing.
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
#yae publishing house#kaveh x reader#venti x reader#tighnari x reader#cyno x reader#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader#alhaitham x reader#ayato x reader#kazuha x reader#diluc x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin#genshin fluff#genshin headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin x you#azul.writes
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
silverv (/takemurav?) drabbles #3
a/n: just a very self-indulgent main character syndrome snippet of my V being a femme fatale because I'm having way too much fun using my mantis blades while walking around looking classy/cunty af. I'm also addicted to the stoic/flirty dynamic her and Goro have going on (plus jealous Johnny, ofc <333) as always, the plot is basically nonexistent. also, here's some screenshots to match! warnings: violence, my obsession with red lipstick and the sound of high heels, I'm not great at writing action scenes but they're fun and I tried my best - Chicago. (like, the song)
“This is the traitor who assassinated Arasaka-sama.” V looked up at Takemura, her face unreadable, blank of emotion. Saburo’s bodyguard held his gaze of calculation as the barrel of his gun pressed coldly into her forehead. She was on one knee, her katana lying to the side after Takemura’s apt kick of her wrist.
They were surrounded by Arasaka agents, cornered into a dark room. The only light was dangling from the old light bulb above them, swinging like the clapper of a church bell counting their sins.
“I will personally see to her execution.” V’s eyes darted to the sides, counting.
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen… Only seventeen? “Only seventeen” Johnny echoed her thoughts, letting out a laugh as he took a drag out of his cig, circling her and Takemura.
“Y’know, might just be our brains clusterfuckin’ together, but I’m really startin’ to like you.”
This wasn’t part of the plan, but they were both improvising on the spot. Takemura would have doubted V in the past; he would have pulled the trigger and delivered her head on a platter.
But variables had drastically changed, all thanks to one primordial element of chaos.
This unpredictable woman kneeling down in front of him. V.
“Oh… what an honor to die by your hands” her voice rang out, her arms inching closer to Takemura as every soldier around them trained their sights on her. “Ah, well. We all live for the company, don’t we? And I suppose it’s high time…”
As composed as Takemura had trained his entire life to be, he felt himself gulp down the tightness of his tie as V’s manicured nails touched the bottom of his leg, lowering herself to the floor and coiling her hands around his ankle like a serpent-
His heart quickened in his chest as her fingers snaked beneath the hem of his suit pants; no more than a second passed before she flicked his hidden dagger straight between the eyes of the agent hidden above him, ready to put him down, too.
Her red lips curved deliciously as the man dropped dead, right before all hell broke loose. “... you all died for it.” A disarming bullet whipped straight towards Takemura’s hands but ricocheted back to kill its shooter as V steadied herself against her partner’s leg, lifting one arm as her mantis blade erupted through the silken, skin-toned sleeve of her burgundy dress.
“Always full of surprises” Goro muttered as he helped her up, ignoring the tension between them as their bodies brushed against each other.
“How else will I keep you guessing?” she purred in reply, twirling around him. Effortlessly, he kicked her katana up as she ran a nail across his back from one shoulder to the other, before positioning themselves facing opposite of each other. He deflected a few bullets with her blade as she held both arms in front of herself, doing the same.
“You will be the death of me, V!” Takemura grunts in between gunshots as they dance back-to-back, taking out the Arasaka agents one by one.
She leaps forward with a laugh and straddles one of the men, slicing his throat with her mantis blades, but doesn’t get to reply; her enhanced hearing catches the sound of a shaky finger pressing down on the trigger.
Twisting herself, she kicks her heels into the concrete to build momentum and slides across the floor, right in between Goro’s legs; without even thinking, she grabs a rifle from a nearby corpse mid-slide and whips her head back to shoot the nervous agent across the room, his shot flying off-course and hitting the light bulb.
Darkness and silence envelop them, except for the soft pants of Arasaka’s best hunting dog and the sly fox he once hunted.
The blades in her arms sheathed themselves as she got to her feet, dusting off her dress. Her heels click-clacked against the hard floor as she walked over to her first victim and bent down to extract Takemura’s dagger from his face, frozen in shock.
“While I am thankful for your innate recklessn- ingenuity, I do not appreciate your slights of Arasaka” Goro’s gruff voice rang out as he fixed his tie and adjusted his suit jacket.
She rolled her eyes and swayed her hips over to him. Their eyes locked intensely; his expression always hardened so helplessly whenever she stared at him. It was thrilling.
Johnny stood before Takemura, puffing a plume of smoke into his face. “Really, V, I didn’t think someone could ever have less game than you, but then you started hangin’ out with this piece of shit.”
Wordlessly, she inched in closer. He remained still, albeit clenching his jaw, feeling the muscles in his back tense as he stood as straight as humanly possible. V’s curves collided with Johnny’s shape, and he glitched away.
Takemura was tall. Taller than Johnny.
Her hand landed on his toned chest, the drops of scarlet in her nails contrasting like blood splatters onto his white shirt.
“You’re welcome” V’s sultry voice dripped from her red lips.
He felt the oxygen dissipate from his lungs as her hand moved away, leaving him to catch his dagger. “How quaint. Mister and Misses Arasaka. I’m gonna be sick” her permanent roommate complained again, pacing around the room bitterly. “They should make a movie! ‘Course, it would fuckin’ blow. Not even Angelina could save this one.”
V’s stone-walling had begun to really frustrate him lately, making the tightness of his leather pants worse and worse, every time.
“Corpo slut” he spat as she wrapped her arm around Takemura’s and fixed his hair. “Should we go back? People might talk.” “Ah, of course. We would not want to ruin our perfect reputations.” She continued to ignore Johnny, but he felt the rush of pleasure in her veins, just like she felt the aggravation in his. Her tongue darted out to ghost over her lips, and the rocker boy wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into it until she bled and begged for his mercy in front of her stupid fuckin’ ‘Saka boyfriend.
“How did you know, about my dagger? It was supposed to be hidden…” the bodyguard whispered disgruntledly as they walked down a hall, glancing away from her generous cleavage with a slight dust of pink over his cheeks.
“Goro, you’re so vanilla, it physically hurts.” He furrowed his brows. What did flavors have to do with this? She giggled at his expected confusion before glancing at Johnny’s expression of pure hatred with a loving smile. “Some might call it corpo slut intuition.”
“V, you are aware of my dislike for profanities- ah, お待ちください/omachi kudasai. (Please wait a moment.) You are implying someone has referred to you as such?”
“Once or twice.”
His eyes unknowingly met Johnny's, who flipped him off with a grin. Takemura felt a touch of anger bloom within him.
“Next time, you may introduce us.”
She blinked in surprise, before covering her mouth to hide some of the joy in her laugh.
“Oh, how I wish I could.”
#cyberpunk 2077#johnny silverhand#goro takemura#fem v cyberpunk#corpo v#fem v#v cyberpunk#cyberpunk fanfic#my writing#silverv#takemura x v#johnny silverhand x v
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have never publicly said this but : Jet drowning Gaipan and Zuko burning down Kyoshi Island are
1) narrative parallels
2) are widely exaggerated by the fandom as actions taking place in a 100 years war and performed by two teenagers
because yes context does matter. and you CANNOT possibly think that these actions come even close to the atrocities of what the rough rhinos did to Jet’s village or what Ozai intended to do to the Earth Kingdom.
NO THIS IS NOT ME EXCUSING WHAT THEY DID. DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THIS.
all I’m saying is that context, intentions and knowing what is going on in a character’s head are actually important in that case for a better understanding of their actions.
let’s take a look at Jet. he’s an orphan boy, who grew up with this very idea that every thing that went wrong in his life was caused by the FN (which is true) and that the only way for him to survive is to fight the FN (which is, again, true). therefore, the logical conclusion to years of trauma, and impregnated ideas of vengeance and wrath is to loose touch with your sense of morality and ending up doing heinous things because he’s convinced that it is the right thing to do. the ONLY thing to do. to survive and to escape the war. what people like to forget is that Jet didn’t grow up like Sokka and Katara, who even though faced a terrible tragedy after their mother’s death, and had to live in a tribe that had been weakened by the FN, also lived in a sheltered place for most of their lives, with their Gran Gran and father’s love, with a community, a family. Jet grew up in constant solitude, hunger, pain, fear, death and had to become a parent to those around him. and that’s not me trying to compare them. but you cannot seriously think that they grew up in the same conditions. growing up like that you just CANNOT turn out fine. the absence of love and protection coming from an adult actually does that to a kid. as time passes he realises that he, as an orphan boy, has to do what has to be done in order to survive. the question of morality doesn’t even crosses his mind. because fear and anger are the only thing left for him to survive. and all of this leads to him drowning Gaipan, and committing this heinous crime. which well doesn’t really happen because everyone is safe ! everyone survived ! yes the village is destroyed but that’s material loss. that doesn’t come near the loss of actual people.
now for Zuko, his core character trait in season 1 is that he’s very short sighted. he only sees his goal, and never what’s in between that. this shortsightedness comes from years of obsession fuelled by extreme (FN) propaganda, indoctrination, trauma and anxiety in regards of what awaits Zuko if he never gets to catch the Avatar. like Jet, Zuko’s anger and fear brings what’s most ugly in him : his lack of regards for any collateral damage he might provoke while trying to reach his goal. which ultimately leads to Kyoshi Island burning down. however, they are a few things that need to be said here. he never steps a foot on Kyoshi Island with the intention of burning it. that’s actually where it diverges from Jet. Zuko is extremely short sighted and his only goal is to find Aang. nothing. else. which differentiates him from his sister especially. who wanders through the earth kingdom while yes chasing Aang but also never stopping (or at least trying) to expend the FN’s power in the EK. Kyoshi island burning down comes actually from him being shitty at managing his firebending (and his crew) in season 1. it’s quite literally collateral damage and most of the damage on Kyoshi Island actually comes from Zuko’s soldiers (who we never actually see receiving orders that would indicate Zuko wanting to burn the island. he only says “I want the Avatar” before splitting up, and go rewatch the scene if you don’t believe me). we do actually see Zuko shooting a few fireballs at Aang but we see only one of them actually hitting the cabins. so it would be logical to assume that it was Zuko’s crew, while fighting the Kyoshi Warriors that did it. after the gaang left, Katara even says “he would have destroyed the whole place” meaning it wasn’t destroyed. and then Aang eventually saves the village and Zuko and his crew leave.
what I’m trying to say with this is that I cannot keep seeing people actually demonising and adultifying Jet and Zuko’s actions (especially at the very beginning where both of them are clearly villains with the narrative intent of doing heinous things) with using these two specific scenes, where, ultimately, no one got hurt (except Sokka & Aang while fighting Jet and the Kyoshi Warriors while fighting Zuko).
this post isn’t me denying what they did. at the end of the day, Gaipan got destroyed and Kyoshi Island lost a lot of infrastructure and cabins. this post is me explaining why I’m tired of the over exaggerated claims in regards of these two characters.
the problem with this fandom is that people will talk about Jet and Zuko’s actions in episode 10 and episode 4 like they would talk about Long Feng’s actions or Ozai’s actions.
like, no, two indoctrinated traumatised teenage boys in a war cannot be held accountable in the same way that two adults (who funnily actually did kill people !) are held accountable. like, textually by LAW they cannot be held accountable in the same way. because of their age, because of the circumstances, the consequences, etc etc.
and what’s even more important is that both actually do their best to make amends. even though doing this after years of indoctrination is actually hard. jet dies while doing so and Zuko nearly dies at the hand of his father for doing so. (and that’s without even talking about his actions as a Firelord)
you can dislike Jet and Zuko as characters. but the hate these two get will always look ridiculous at the end of the day. because it’s either completely exaggerated or out of context or doesn’t apply to them because they actually did change. and did try to make amends.
again, this is not me saying that they weren’t villains at the beginning of the series. this is also not me saying that these actions are excusable or even remotely okay. no, it’s me begging the fandom to just use their brain for two fucking seconds. it’s me begging the fandom to just understand what the war and it’s consequences does to people, especially children. on all sides of the war. especially war children.
#atla#atla fandom problems#pro jet#pro zuko#atla zuko#atla jet#uuuuh kinda#Jetko#because narrative parallels !!!#anyways#I know I’ll get jumped for saying this#but it had to be said#like seriously what’s wrong with that fandom#you don’t need a phd in media literacy to understand them#(That would be giving bryle wayyyyyy too much credit)#zuko meta#jet meta#no this is also not a “jet/zuko did nothing wrong post please do not tag as such#they were both assholes#and horrible jerks in the beginning
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whitechapel series 1 press pack
Rupert Penry-Jones is Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler
Rupert Penry-Jones is quick to point out that DI Chandler, his character in Whitechapel, is no hero.
“He doesn’t have all the answers. He doesn’t know how to fix everything. He doesn’t kill the bad guy and save London like Adam in Spooks,” explains Rupert.
“He’s a bit less of an action man and a bit more cerebral. He doesn’t really like the sight of blood. Chandler is the total opposite to Adam in that way; he finds the whole thing quite scary.
“It was actually really nice to play someone who was not an action man for a change.”
Describing his character Rupert says: “DI Chandler is basically a fast track policeman. They call them ‘plastics’ in the force. He is destined for great things at the higher end of the police force but has to go through the ranks and work a little in each of the departments; get his feet wet.
“Whitechapel starts with him being given his first murder case which all concerned think is going to be a simple domestic. But of course it turns out to be a serial killer. So he ends up on this investigation having to muck in a lot more than he expected and realises he enjoys policing rather more than just sitting behind a desk.
“He is a slightly obsessive, compulsive, asexual guy. You get no insight into his personal life at all. It is all work with him.”
At first Chandler sits uneasily among his new colleagues; a rough and ready East End station.
But, as Rupert explains, the relationship between him and his men does develop during the series.
“To start with Chandler and Miles, his sergeant played by Phil Davis, absolutely hate each other. For Miles particularly, Chandler is everything he dislikes about the modern police force. But gradually they find a mutual respect for each other.”
Ripperologist Edward Buchan is another stumbling block between the two officers.
“Chandler likes Buchan from the start. He respects his ideas and thoughts on the case and they end up being good friends. Miles thinks he’s an idiot and a liability.”
Rupert says that the prospect of working with Phil Davis again was one of the things that attracted him to the part.
“The first thing that hit me was the script - a real page turner. I was totally gripped by this modern telling of the Jack the Ripper story. And I loved the relationship between Chandler and Miles. Even more so as Phil is an old friend from when we made North Square together, so that was an added bonus.”
Rupert admits he knew very little about the original 19th century Ripper before doing his research.
“To be honest I didn’t even realise he hadn’t been caught,” confesses Rupert. “I thought they caught the suspect in top hat and tails. I never realised that there was this huge conspiracy story going around.
“I found the research very interesting. I didn’t realise how gruesome it all was though. They really were the most awful murders. He did terrible things to those women, even eating bits of their bodies. He was the original serial killer.”
Many of Whitechapel’s pivotal scenes were filmed at night. Rupert recalls: “You can’t get very close to many of the original murder scenes but what was strange was while we were filming these big scenes we would see the actual Ripper tours walking past the sights. It was a bit surreal.”
“The night shoots were extremely gruelling on everybody. All the London boroughs have different curfews so we would only be allowed to film up to a certain time – some would be 10pm, some midnight and so on. It meant you couldn’t get a good run at the night shoots and we were always having to change our hours.”
But perhaps the toughest part of the role for Rupert was remembering the dialogue littered with names and dates and locations…
“When I was discussing all the victims I had the art department put up a big storyboard behind me. I used it as a prop to emphasise my speech but also as a prompt for remembering the names of the women who were killed. I had it all up there behind me to reference if I got lost.
“I find all that line learning rather tiresome but lines are easy to learn if the dialogue is good. And this was compelling.”
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Abduction Club - A half masterpiece.
'The Abduction Club' is a 2002 British and Irish film directed by Stefan Schwartz, it is written by Richard Crawford, Bill Britten and produced by David Collins. It is described as a romantic comedy-drama adventure film. It is also based loosley on real historical events.
Cast and Characters - ~ Alice Evans as Catherine Kennedy. ~ Daniel Lapaine as Garrett Byrne. ~ Sophia Myles as Anne Kennedy. ~ Matthew Rhys as James Strang. ~ Liam Cunningham as John Power. ~ Edward Woodward as Lord Fermoy. ~ Patrick Malahide as Sir Myles. ~ Tom Murphy as Knox.
Plot - Garrett Byrne and James Strang are both members of a notorious gang called 'The Abduction Club', in 18th century Ireland if you where the younger brother you had to find your own means of living while the older brother got all the fortune and titles. This is where the abduction club plays a part, woo and then abduct a wealthy heiress which could lead to marriage and financial security or become a priest. When it comes to Garretts turn to pick an heiress he sets his sights on Catherine Kennedy, together with the help of James he begins to woo Miss Kennedy at a horse race, but James would also have a very interesting interaction with her sister, Anne Kennedy. When it comes time for Garrett to abduct Catherine, James would break the rules of the club and also abduct Anne which then sets in motion chaos, for Anne is promised to a noble man. John Power not happy that his future bride has been stolen away goes after the sisters and chases them all over the Irish countryside. One of their other 'friends' from the club, a man named Knox who seems to be obsessed with Garrett shoots a Redcoat soldier while they are fleeing in what he thinks is a heroic act to protect Garrett but this backfires and now Garrett and James are famed for the murder of the redcoat.
Spoilers under the cut, for those who haven’t seen the movie don’t go past this point ‼️
Okay i'm going to start this off with talking about Garrett and Catherine because they are the main couple but my least favourite couple of the movie, then we'll get onto James and Anne because they are one of my favourite movies couples ever.
So Garrett and Catherine, what can I say? Terrible that's what. Both the actor and actress are amazing and so good in this film, just not when their acting together. Garrett with Strang is funny and charming and you can tell he really cares for his friend, their bromance is unshaken. Catherine with her sister is heartwarming and nurturing and you can tell she just wants to take care of her and make sure she has the best life possible. But as a couple Garrett and Catherine have absolutely no chemistry whatsoever, it's honestly super cringey at times mainly the things that Garrett says to her and I have seen this movie a lot at this point and yes, I do sometimes skip over the cringe because wtf? I don't think at any point I like them and are convinced that they are falling in love, from the start their whole relationship is based on lies (and I know this is kinda the whole thing about the club but compared to the next couple it's just not it) and honestly half of the things that spew out of Garretts mouth towards Catherine do not make sense. We literally had more bonding from Strang and Anne but they tried to make it seem that Garrett and Catherine were way more in love, but it's just not convincing at all. They never really say anything of importance to either other either, it's all politics or lies and in no scene do I feel like they connected real enough for them to fall in love. Him saying that he was 'Enslaved' by her words at the races when they talked for about 1 minute and it was literally about nothing....
To me it feel like he only cares about looks and not having to become a priest and he's obsessed with trying to win her over. Even their attempts to joke with each other are awkward and not funny at all.
Okay enough about their lacklustre relationship, let's talk about my main couple of the movie. Anne and Strang, my second favourite movie couple EVER, their chemistry was off the charts. Their first ever meeting Anne challenges Strang for the lies he's telling for Garrett and snaps back at him, which I think Strang is surprised at, it's an instant connection that makes me squeal. Strang is just pure chaos and Anne compliments this so very well, also during the time it's set woman where supposed to be seen now heard, which is how John Power (Her admirer) wants her to be but with Strang she can be herself and he plays into this while also keeping her safe. Strangs banter in general is just so charming and likeable, no wonder Anne falls for him. And from the actor it's so natural and not forced.
I think as well I love them so much because Anne is promised to someone else not of her choosing which makes them a forbidden romance, which is my favourite trope. I love the way they playfully insult each other, if Anne insults Strang he gives it back tenfold and so on, but it's playful and endearing, they both have the widest smiles, and again from both actors IT'S SO NATURAL.
I also wish we could have seen more of the tension between Strang and John Power, especially at the beach scene but also around Anne after finding out that Power essentially owns Anne after her father gambled with her. When Power finds the group while they are having breakfast and storms in, theres no emotion from any of them, I would have liked to see Strang get up and try beat his ass for thinking he could own Anne like some property, but I'm getting ahead of myself here, we shall come back to this point.
When the abduction club comes for Catherine and Strang lowers his mask after fighting with Power, THE EYE CONTACT with Anne, unbeatable.
'Strang entering the room Anne is in after kidnapping/ her willingly going with him, Anne throwing a vase at the door as he enters, barely missing him.'
"𝒮𝑜, 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓃𝑜𝓌?" "𝒜𝓈 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎."
"𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝑜?" "𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓉. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒, 𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉." "𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝒸𝓁𝓊𝑒."
'Throws another vase at his head this time which he only slightly dodges.'
They feel so natural and I definitely think they were love at first sight and are soulmates. Anne is allowed to be whoever she wants around strang with the also assurity that he will keep her safe, example- after he jumps off the cliff into the water she wants her own taste of adrenaline, so she takes the stronger horse and rides off, Strang is right behind her to make sure she's safe a good thing too as she flys off the horse but is unharmed. But strang doesn't scold her for this, he's just glad she's safe which I think Anne appreciates.
One of my favourite scenes is when they are at the church for the night and later that day Anne finds out that Garrett asked strang to keep her busy so that Catherine would stick around so he could get to know her better, obviously she's upset and goes outside to get some fresh air and Strang follows her. He tries to apologise and explain but she's rambling on and Strang interrupts her by kissing her. Shocked but delighted they both smile at each other when they pull away only to kiss again but this is interrupted by Catherine calling for her sister.
Some things that really pissed me off that's more I think to do with the writing, and so that Anne and Strang wouldn't over shadow what is meant to be the main love story of Catherine and Garrett -
When they are having breakfast, and Strang shows no emotion when he learns that Anne's father gambled her away to Power, and now she basically belongs to Power.
Feel like Anne should have also been way more upset about this revelation as well, it's her life that has been gambled away.
There is also no emotion when power Interrupts the breakfast and supposingly off screen arrests Garrett and Strang.
Again no emotion when they are at trail and Garrett and Strang are sentenced to death. I again feel this was overshadowed by Garrett and Catherine.
Anne willing to sacrifice her life and marry Power if it means that Strang will not be dead, she would rather she knew he was alive somewhere without her than to see him in pain and know he is no long on earth. Their ending was very satisfying though, the heartbreak of 'Is he actually going to leave her?' Anne having to see her sister get her happily ever after but she has to stay so her dad would be safe and seeing Strang ride away without her not knowing if they would see each other again. Only for Strang to turn around and come back, GET ON HIS KNEES and adorably stutter while Anne is so naturally giggling (Honestly think the laugh is Sophia's natural reaction to the scene) and then that hug! 🥺 These two have my whole heart and I'm devastated that they weren't given the full justice they deserved.
I love this movie and I think you can all tell just how much I love Anne and Strang. It's just a shame that they did Garrett and Catherine so dirty, I don't know if it was the writing or just the actors not having chemistry and it's a shame their storyline had to overshadow Anne and Strangs. It's okay I'll just stick to skipping through for their parts to get some serotonin and wish for a relationship like theirs. Highly recommend this movie if you love Forbidden romance, period dramas and just some good old adventure. 9/10
#The Abduction Club#the abduction club 2002#Anne Kennedy#Catherine Kennedy#James strang#Garrett Byrne#Alice Evans#Daniel Lapaine#Sophia Myles#Matthew Rhys#film analysis#film#movie#2002#film talk#favourite film couple
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
idfk knowless got a pokemon game and then got pinkeye edition, bhna s4e10-14
oh yeah it's the plague doctor faction, with the tiefling kid
"you need to heal up so I can fight you to the death properly!" okay so this punchy guy wandered in from dbz then
yup. lockdown got redshirted -- so vampire girl can create clothes with her disguises, but because this writer is the way he is, that doesn't mean she can just transform her clothes when she morphs? wheretf did she put them, then? also aizawa fell for that ruse for like 0.5 seconds longer than he should've -- also also I have a feeling deku isn't gonna get the news that she infiltrated a school to whoever needs to know in time (or maybe that was revealed to them ages ago? I forget)
handface: "no, I don't know how to play chess. take your fancy-pants stradgedy and shove it, I do what I want"
"I can only read the future once a day, but luckily I'm also Batman"
"but we don't wanna work for the yakuza!" "we're gonna double-cross 'em." "on it!" he probably coulda just said "deku will be there" and the token protagonist-obsessed knife-licker would've shown up in a plague mask
(twice and vampire girl got hypnotized into saying how their abilities work) …wait, "my clothes transform with me, but they overlap with stuff because I purposefully wear clothes that sabotage my own ability just so I have to take them off?" …the fuck
mr zone of truth keeps holding his gun by the trigger. idjit's gonna shoot his own kidney out any moment -- sidenote, I imagine this confession guy's quirk is very popular in fanfic
"ultimate move: phantom threat!" you can't fool me, subtitles, I know what I heard 'XD it's jojo all over again
maybe don't scream your target's name when making a surprise attack tho? -- running time? you got the girl, I'm pretty sure chisaki's quirk is touch range… run away time?
…togata's not the main character tho. they ain't gonna let him solo this. …probably. -- ayup. hella move on the yakuza's part, tho - oh wait no, the dart probably wouldn't have erased eri's quirk, that's just her own quirk. he just guessed that togata wouldn't realize it wasn't a bullet, I guess. or that he wouldn't realize that it probably (?) wouldn't have any effect on eri.
…ngl, they did have me going for a second. I wasn't sure whether togata had somehow avoided the effects of the dart, or was gonna just Karate Kid it and beat chisaki to a pulp without powers, or what
goddamn after-credits scenes. -- oh wait so the after-credits bit here was just preview or something. well, fucked if I know
I still say Nighteye's future sight shouldn't make him able to dodge perfectly since it doesn't give him the superhuman speed to match his opponent's. -- …and there it is.
oh right, he ate the confession guy. …huh.
"then who was the deku we just saw" I was wondering how he got up there that fast. -- "…how DID we, kronk?" "well, you got me. I guess we copied that other teammate of ours and used his pokeball quirk to dig our way out" - wait a minute holy shit this is a lot of quirk copying going on. both these two can do it, Ditto from Class B can do it, it's a whole subgenre of superpower, huh
…subtitles, tiefling kid has been in the opening and outro for this whole arc. she's the macguffin of the whole thing. I know who Eri is.
"I have to go back…" eri's homura. calling it. we're about to re:zero this whole arc.
nighteye you have rock where most of your torso is sposed to be and an arm off, how in fuck are you still talking
"eri rewinds humans, so I just gotta keep taking damage to balance it out so I don't overheal and turn into a monkey!" …okay??? I guess??? -- I was just thinking how deku's power is kind of like if saitama's body wasn't immune to damage
you, sir, are a resident evil boss
hehe deku's hair kinda makes him look like a Bluper Saiyan here
(chisaki's backstory) "that girl is a person. does that mean nothing to you?" and I'm sure you, a mob boss, would be saying that even if she weren't your granddaughter
"midoriya… he changed the future…" actually I'm pretty sure that was little miss groundhog day who did that. -- altho, I guess it'd be a little much to assume that her ability actually fucks with the time continuum or whatnot, given that it seems that it just reverts bodies to earlier versions of themselves. it is pretty wonky that the first thing it does is healing and the second thing it does is erase quirks tho, rather than de-aging, and we haven't actually seen if it has any middle grounds (like other kinds of de-evolution) between that and complete annihilation.
(seer's gone) huh. …well, he did have a big ol' spike replacing most of his internal organs. maybe eri coulda done something, but tbf she can neither steer nor control what she does, so (according to chisaki) she'd probably have just turned him into a monkey anyway
0 notes
Text
Beneath The Stars
Summary: During a party, you find yourself growing closer to Eddie, sharing things you never thought would come to light.
Word Count: 3.3k
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
A/N: This is my first ever Stranger Things fic! I'm super excited and a little nervous to share, but I hope I've done Eddie's character justice - he truly is such an incredible addition to the show and I'm fully obsessed with him :')
This story contains brief talk of mental health struggles, so trigger warning for those who would prefer not to read such topics!
Happy reading!
xx Jess
“Back! Back, you heathens!” you heard a voice shout from somewhere behind you.
Peering over your shoulder, you watched in amusement as Eddie Munson engaged in a pretend sword fight, facing off against the handful of partygoers that’d spilled through the open doorway after him. The corners of your mouth lifted at the sight, a familiar warmth settling in the pit of your stomach, though you were hesitant in admitting so.
For now, you’d blame the booze.
Eddie managed to herd the others back inside, the sound of Bon Jovi’s latest hit now muffled as he spun around and fell against the closed door, huffing a dramatic breath. When he noticed your stare, he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels he’d managed to snag, shooting you a lopsided grin. “Mission accomplished,” he jeered, taking a quick bow before sauntering towards where you sat on the front lawn.
You clasped your hands beneath your chin. “My hero,” you cooed in your best southern accent, batting your eyelashes as he plopped down beside you.
He unscrewed the top and flicked it away, the cap disappearing somewhere in the grass. “For you, m’lady,” he held the bottle out, offering you the first drink.
You grabbed hold of the whiskey and took a long swig, pulling a face as the liquor burned its way down to your belly. “Bleh,” you sounded through a shudder.
Eddie snorted a soft laugh as you passed the bottle back, his dark eyes catching yours over the rim as he brought the glass to his lips and took a drink.
You pulled your gaze away, feeling your stomach flip-flop.
Definitely the booze.
Corroded Coffin had played one of their first real gigs that night. It was a small venue, only about half-full, but it was something — it was exciting. You loved watching Eddie perform —it was like seeing someone come alive, truly come alive, right before your very eyes. It was one of the sides of him you loved most, the passion, the charisma, the secondhand thrill of experiencing him in his element.
Afterward, Gareth invited everyone back to his house since his parents were away for the weekend. Initially, there’d only been about a dozen people. But word of mouth moved far more quickly than anyone realized and suddenly, the small get-together had turned into a full-blown house party.
Not much of a partier yourself, you’d lasted about an hour inside the crammed house before you’d begun to feel overwhelmed, the jungle juice you’d drank sitting like a rock in the pit of your stomach. There were too many people, too little space, and not enough air. Before you could completely panic, you’d slipped outside, immediately feeling the tension in your chest loosen.
Eddie had found you not long after.
“So, what’d you think of the show?” he asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on. “Was it everything you dreamed of and more?” he smirked, flicking away a loose curl of dark hair that fell over his face.
A soft laugh bubbled out of you as you reached for the whiskey. “Mhm,” you hummed, taking another swig, feeling your limbs loosen, your muscles ease. “Thank you for allowing me to experience peak human existence, Eds. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you,” you remarked, your tone sarcastic as you played coyly with one another, a dance you knew all too well.
Eddie mirrored your mischievous expression before placing his palm against your cheek and pushing your face away, grabbing the bottle at the same time. “Hard liquor makes you sassy — noted,” he shot you a wink before swallowing another mouthful, his face twisting as the liquor burned through him.
You leaned back on your hands with a contented sigh. “No, really though — I had a lot of fun,” you relented truthfully. “Watching you on stage is, like, one of my all-time favorite things.”
The booze had turned you into a braver, more honest version of yourself.
“Yeah?” he murmured in response, pressing the edge of the bottle against his bottom lip, an almost bashful smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
You swallowed the lump that grew in your throat. “Yeah.”
You’d never been more grateful for nightfall, otherwise, you were sure he would’ve noticed the redness creeping across your cheeks.
The alcohol had begun to numb you, clouding your mind and thickening your tongue, and before you could say anything else, you dropped onto your back with a huff. The grass tickled your bare arms, soft and dewy, the stars glistening against a cloudless, darkened sky. You shifted onto your side after a beat of easy silence, propping yourself up on your elbow.
“What’d you wanna be when you grow up?” you asked quietly, ignoring the fact that you were both nearing your twenties, he a year sooner than you.
Eddie looked down at you, narrowing his eyes as if trying to decipher where the question had come from. When you simply met his gaze, intrigued and waiting, he tilted his head back, his hair falling in waves down his spine as he stared up at the sky, humming a breath in thought. “A goddamn rockstar,” he finally answered, peeking down at you and waggling his eyebrows before launching up to his feet, teetering slightly.
You grinned up at him, pulling yourself back into a seated position.
“I’m talkin’ world tours, sold-out stadiums, toilet seats made of goddamn gold or some shit,” he continued, painting a picture with the type of flare only Eddie Munson could muster before he spun around, his back now to you. “I love you, New York City!” he howled towards the empty street, holding his hands high above his head in triumphant fists as he imitated the sound of a roaring crowd, fully immersed in his fantasy.
As you brought the bottle of Jack he’d left behind to your mouth, a giggle slipped past your lips — a fucking giggle — and you decided to take that as a sign to slow your roll. You were feeling good, really good, and didn’t want to risk the night ending with the contents of your stomach…on the outside.
You noticed that Eddie had turned back around and was now staring down at you, twisting one of his dark curls near his lips, the corner of his mouth quirking in a playful expression. He dropped down beside you in the next instant, tapping your nose with his index finger. “Boop.”
You swatted his hand away, stifling another laugh. “Uh, oh,” you shook your head at his antics.
Apparently, you weren’t the only one needing to ‘slow your roll’.
But Eddie appeared unaffected, shifting in the grass until you wound up face to face, just two feet between you. “Your turn, sweetheart,” he beamed before reaching towards you and pulling away a stray leaf that’d gotten tangled in your hair.
You crossed your legs beneath you, pretending the graze of his thumb against your cheek hadn’t set your skin ablaze. “I don’t know,” you shrugged, looking down in thought and twisting your hands in your lap. “When I was really little, I’m pretty sure I wanted to be a veterinarian?” you posed, the statement coming out more so a question than anything else.
Eddie quirked a brow. “A vet, huh?”
You nodded. “Mhm,” you sounded. “But then I found out I’d have to stick a thermometer up dogs’ asses and well, that dream was quickly squashed.”
His eyes widened, a surprised laugh rumbling from deep inside his chest as he leaned back and clapped once, the rings he wore clanking together at the motion. You watched him quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips, the sound of his laughter finding a nice, cozy corner in the back of your mind to call ‘home’.
“Never pegged you as the squeamish type, L/N,” he remarked once settled, his features returning to their usual placidity — though something in his eyes had shifted, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
You merely shrugged, your voice lost beneath the heat of his gaze.
Eddie brought the side of his thumb to his mouth, chewing on the edge of his nail as he studied you. His eyes flickered down to your lips, lingering for no more than half a second, the movement practically imperceptible — but you saw it.
For the second time that night, you were grateful for the darkness.
“So, since all jobs that require the probing of anuses appear to be off the table,” he chaffed, a twinkle in his spirited gaze, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” he threw your question right back at you, cupping his hand beneath his chin, the intensity of his stare making you squirm.
Your shoulder met your ear in another half-hearted shrug. “I honestly have no idea.”
“Oh, come on!” Eddie exclaimed, his usual theatrics returning. “This big, beautiful world is your — metaphorical — oyster, and if you don’t dive head first into the oceans of possibility, you’ll never uncover any of the sweet, sweet, pearls life has to offer,” he declared with a cheeky grin. “End speech,” he finished, holding his arms out on either side of him as though awaiting a thunderous applause.
You stared at him for a long moment. “You should stitch that shit into a pillow, Munson,” you retorted blankly.
Eddie tilted his head back and let out another resounding laugh. “What can I say, I’m an inspirational drunk,” he shrugged, albeit smugly, before he twisted around and fell back onto the grass.
You huffed a laugh of your own and followed suit, dropping down onto your back beside him, the sides of your arms just barely touching.
Neither of you spoke for a long while, a pleasant quiet stretching on as you each rode out your buzz, laying beneath the stars. You fell lost in your thoughts as you studied the sky, the party continuing in the background, steady beats and bases thumping, the vibrations almost palpable from where you lounged.
“Still waiting for an answer, you know,” Eddie voiced then, breaking through the otherwise mindless noise.
You glanced over at him, the grass tickling your cheek as you shifted. He was much closer than you realized, less than a foot between you, the air suddenly growing thick. His dark eyes glistened in the moonlight, as though peering straight into the depths of yourself, the parts you hid from the rest of the world. But he said nothing else — he simply laid there and waited patiently.
You turned your face back towards the sky, scared of the sudden desire you felt to close the space between you.
“I guess if I’m being really honest, nothing’s ever — nothing’s ever stuck, you know?” you finally murmured, focusing on the stars instead of the feeling of Eddie’s eyes boring into the side of your face. “I think about it all the time — and people ask me all the time — and I…I just don’t have an answer,” you remarked. “I can’t say there’s one, singular thing that’s ever jumped out at me, that’s convinced me that that’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.”
Eddie hummed softly, knowingly.
You rested your hands against your stomach, drumming your fingers back and forth. “I mean, it’s kinda ridiculous, don’t you think? The pressure society puts on people our age to ‘have it all figured out’? It’s such bullshit,” you scoffed a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you continued “I wasn’t sure I’d even make it past the age of fifteen and now here I am, three years later, and it’s like —”
Your breath caught in your throat as your words registered, words you’d vowed would never come to light. Yet, there they were, floating between you, far too late to swallow back up.
Eddie stilled beside you — as though he’d turned to stone.
A soft sigh slipped past your lips as you sat up, forcing yourself not to look at him, afraid of what you’d see. “Sorry,” you murmured. “Definitely the booze talking there,” you quipped lamely, your attempt at humor falling on deaf ears.
Eddie slowly pulled himself up into a seated position beside you, remaining uncharacteristically silent. From your peripherals, you noticed him wrap an arm around his knee, twirling the rings laced around his fingers in absent circles.
Still, you didn’t dare look at him.
You’d never told anyone about that — about the dark place you’d found yourself in some odd years ago, the bleakness that’d followed you into adulthood, blanketing over your soul like thick, black ink, billowing like clouds of smoke around your lungs until it felt as though you’d never take another breath.
It wasn’t all bad, though.
Sometimes, the heaviness was manageable, neither staggering nor all-consuming. There were tricks and tips you’d learned over time to keep the sadness at bay — going for long walks, baking your favorite childhood dessert, surrounding yourself with those who exuded light, present company included.
It wasn’t all bad.
But voicing those thoughts aloud, allowing them to come to the surface, had made them real and not simply a figment of your overactive imagination. And now, they weren’t just yours alone.
Now they were his as well.
“You still feel that way?” Eddie whispered, a rare fragility to his words that sent your stomach plummeting.
You shook your head but when you noticed his downward casted eyes, you spoke up. “No — no, this was — this was a long time ago,” you said quickly. “I mean, everyone goes through rough patches, right? It was nothing. I’m fine. I’m good, I’m — yeah, I’m good,” you nodded though your words tasted like acid as they slipped off your tongue.
When Eddie finally looked over at you, catching your gaze, the small smile you’d plastered on your face faltered — you’d never seen him look so…so…
The thought hit you like a ton of bricks.
So fucking sad.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you urged, ready to do just about anything to bring back the old Eddie, the one you had before the night soured.
Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but when no sound came out, his expression eased in the slightest. “You mean like this?” he twisted his features in a cartoonish way — squinting one eye, sticking his tongue out, flaring his nostrils, breaking the tension.
A soft laugh slipped past your lips, relief flooding through you. “Yes, exactly like that,” you rolled your eyes, huffing a breath as you climbed to your feet, ready to put the discomfort to rest. “Come on, you weirdo,” you said fondly, reaching down and grabbing Eddie’s outstretched hand, pulling him up with a grunt.
You turned to head back inside, feeling your buzz beginning to disappear and really preferring that not to be the case — you’d much rather black out than face whatever it was that’d transpired a few moments ago and another glass or two of that jungle juice from earlier would most definitely do the trick.
But you’d only taken a single step when you felt Eddie’s hand lock around your wrist, yanking you backward and whipping you around in one fell swoop.
You gasped as your body crashed against him, his arms tightly enveloping you, one snaking around your back while the other slid along your waist. You stood stunned for a moment, your arms dangling limply at your sides as he pressed you flush against his chest, comforting you in the only way he knew how.
Then he ducked his head down, resting faint lips on the soft spot between your shoulder and neck, and any reserve you carried dissolved.
Winding your arms around his middle, you tucked your face against the side of his neck, his curls tickling your skin as you breathed in his scent — whiskey and leather, cigarettes and cedar. His pounding heart mirrored your own as one of his hands slid up to cradle the back of your head. Your eyes fluttered shut as you committed the feel of him to memory.
Then Eddie lifted his head, just an inch or two, and brought his lips close to your ear. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” he murmured, his voice nearing a rasp, sending a chill down your spine. “Even the sad shit?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, tightening your hold around him in response, unable to formulate a single syllable but hoping he understood nonetheless.
“Good,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss against the side of your head. He pulled back a few inches and brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, resting his palm against your cheek. His gaze, warm like honey, regarded you steadily. “Don’t make me think of a world you don’t exist in,” he said quietly, his fingers slipping around the back of your neck with a gentle squeeze. “Don’t break my heart like that.”
While your voice remained lost, somehow, you managed a nod.
You hadn’t realized you’d started crying until a single droplet spilled over, a small smirk toying at the edges of Eddie’s mouth as he thumbed away the moisture. “Such a mush,” he teased, his tone laced with affection.
“Says you,” you sniffled, sliding your hands away from his waist, instead settling them against his chest, atop his jean jacket, toying with the pins fastened there.
Neither of you moved for a long moment, each holding the other in ways you hadn’t allowed yourself to before. When you gazed at him from beneath your lashes, you heard Eddie suck in a sharp breath.
The dwindling space between you thickened without warning, his lingering thumb brushing back and forth over your cheek, your skin tingling beneath his touch. His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his usual bravado vanishing, making him look much more vulnerable as every nerve-ending in your body screamed at you to lean closer.
Your hands curled around the lapels of his jacket in anticipation, the material balled inside your fists as he tentatively began to bring his lips towards yours, the remaining gap between you nearly nonexistent when all of the sudden…
The door behind you ricocheted open with a deafening slam.
You leaped away from each other, like snapping out of a trance, sounds from the party beginning to fill the air as Gareth abruptly stumbled into view, red solo cup in hand.
“Hey, we’re —” hiccup “— gettin’ our fuckin’ asses handed to us in there, guys!” he shouted, his words slurred as he swayed just outside the door, oblivious to the situation he’d just walked into. “Beer pong is —” hiccup “— no joke, okay? No —” hiccup “— joke,” he warned solemnly before holding up his pointer finger and letting out a loud and obnoxiously long belch.
Then without another word, he staggered back into the house.
A stretch of agonizing silence lingered as you stared at the door your friend had disappeared through, feeling slightly bewildered. But before you could completely shrivel up into a pool of mortification, you glanced over at Eddie — and despite the blush surely creeping up the base of your neck, you had to admit you felt slightly better seeing his equally sheepish expression.
“Well, that settles it then,” he announced suddenly, resolutely. “Gareth’s a dead man.”
You pressed a hand against your mouth, attempting to stifle your laughter as Eddie shot you one of his megawatt grins, the tension between you settling.
Choosing to set aside the ‘almosts’ and ‘maybes’ for another day, you slowly began to make your way back to the house together, falling in step side by side.
“So, where should we hide the body?” you mused, the flirty banter you were accustomed to returning, the music from the party growing louder the closer you neared.
Eddie’s brow shot up exaggeratedly, feigning surprise. “Look at you, sweet talkin’ me,” he smirked, sounding impressed as he tossed an arm across your shoulders and tucked you against his side.
You slipped an arm around his waist as you reached the doorway, tightening your hold. “Gee, wonder where I learned that from?”
A soft laugh rumbled from his chest as he pressed a gentle kiss against the side of your head.
And you simply melted.
A/N: Eeeeeeek! I hope y'all enjoyed this one! Feedback is super important so please feel free to share your thoughts with me :)
Thanks for being here and let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!
@ghosttownwherenoonegoes @superflannel @allwomenarequeenthots
#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie x y/n#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things eddie#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine#joseph quinn#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#reader insert#crossbowking
253 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ok,,hear me out,,poly yanderes Pim and Charlie,, maybe they met you on a job as the person who needed help and Pim can't believe someone as lovely as you was so sad!! Dude because absolutely obsessed with making sure your happy and taken care off. Charlie feels like he'd be a more reluctant yandere at first, and after he falls for the darling he'd still be pretty chill. (I haven't watched the show in full, so I apologize if this isn't in character ^^)
DNFNDDNDNDJ Anon aaaaaaaaa I loved this ask so much, I HAD to write for it aaaaa
It's not exactly the same, but I hope you like it! c:
---
Pim was crazy. He was crazy, he was crazy, he was crazy.
Okay, well, maybe crazy wasn't the best word. He was… Eccentric. He was quick to develop strong feelings for others, was incredibly affectionate, highly empathetic, and held a certain naivety for the world around him, despite his age. In fact, Charlie thought Pim was a great balance for him. Charlie didn't think himself a cynic, (more of a realist, really,) but Pim's almost constant optimism was a great pick-me-up, and besides that, he was a great friend and person. A perfect fit for the job of making people happy. Though, the guy couldn't help becoming a bit too invested in a client and their feelings. Pim could see a client's distress and become upset, himself. Charlie, however, took a more realistic, less emotional approach. Sure, it sucked when they couldn't make someone's day better, but hey, no one's perfect. For Pim, a frowning client meant a personal failure. For Charlie… Well, he tried his best, and the moment he went off the clock, he really didn't want to worry about work anymore. His Ma always said he'd be a good therapist, able to separate himself from certain people and situations so as to not dwell on them too much. That's what made the two of them such a great team.
The point was that Pim had his share of eccentricities, as did Charlie, and the yellow critter was well aware of that and accepted his friend for who he was. What Charlie did not accept was Pim projecting his shit onto him!
The critter groaned softly as he sank onto his bed, rubbing the bridge of his snout. Freaking Pim…
Digging out his phone, Charlie squinted up at the screen as he scrolled through his friend's recent messages. A bunch of nonsense about how badly they needed you, how you deserved to be taken care of, that he knows Charlie feels the same, that they need to-
Charlie made a face, swiping away from the messages. Ugh, he didn't want to deal with this right now. He grumbled to himself as he set his alarm, placing his phone facedown on the nightstand beside him before settling in for the night. Turning over to face the wall, Charlie let his eyes fall shut as his mind began to wander.
God, Pim had been acting so weird. Whatever the hell had come over him, Charlie prayed that it would pass. It wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for Pim to develop a crush on someone, what with the whole Shrimp and Jennifer thing, but a crush was one thing. Obsessive infatuation was on a whole different level. Charlie gritted his teeth. Ugh, whatever. Whatever! Pim could be a weirdo if he wanted, but he didn't have to drag him into it. Charlie didn't need you...
Well. Okay, maybe a little. But, you know, that's normal! Friends needed each other. They thought about each other all the time, craved each other's companionship. And hell, the three of you had hit it off so well when he and Pim first met you as their client. In fact, it was the most fun Charlie had had on a job in a long while. It was a blast hanging out with you - getting you out of the house, seeing the sights around the city, going to Daveland, shooting the shit and making each other laugh. And your smile… He loved your smile. It made his chest feel so warm and light. And, God, were there butterflies in his stomach?
… What was he saying? Oh, right. Despite making you happy in the moment, it was clear that your unhappiness hadn't stemmed from a particularly bad day, but an ongoing mental health issue - which he and Pim wanted to help with! But, they weren't exactly mental health professionals. So, Pim had set up an appointment to get you a psychiatrist (and offered to come with, in case you were especially nervous), and Charlie had recommended a few therapists in the area. Besides that, he and Pim made sure to text you often, and hang out at yours or one of their places, or around the city. You were always incredibly grateful, even stating that you didn't deserve it, but the two smiling friends were quick to dissuade those thoughts. Your friendship and knowing that they were helping someone out was gift enough.
And everything was great and fine and chill, until Pim started acting off. Like, really off. Pim never half-assed jobs! But now, all he seemed to be able to think about was getting the job done so he could get back to you. And, well… Okay, maybe that was a bit hypocritical. Charlie, on occasion, would tune out of whatever they were doing to think about you or text you or… But, hey, that was usual for him, right? Charlie usually took a backseat with clients, emotionally speaking. He wasn't usually too invested. He wasn't the one acting weird here, Pim was. Unlike his friend, Charlie hadn't changed his behavior at all, and he couldn't believe his best friend would try to convince him otherwise. Just because he daydreamt about you or constantly had you on his mind or made sure to text you consistently and got nervous if you didn't respond right away or went out of his way to go to places he knew you'd be or walked by your home before going to his own every night to make sure you were safe, it-... That. That didn't mean anything. It didn't.
He… This was so stupid. He didn't want to think about this anymore. He just wanted to go to sleep. He'd go to sleep and never, ever think about this again for forever. Or until the morning. Whichever came first.
Just. Sleep. Just go to sleep. All he had to do was sleep. Come on. The critter let out a frustrated growl as he clenched his eyes shut, closed eyes boring deeply into the darkness that made up his vision. He focused so intensely that colors began to pop up within the blackness, swirling in asymmetrical patterns across his vision.
Charlie sighed deeply, body shuddering as he did. Freaking Pim, this was all his fault. Making him paranoid about you. Was this his plan or something? To try to reverse-psychology his way into convincing Charlie to not go for you-
Wait, no. No. Where did that thought come from? He… Charlie didn't like you like that.
… Or did he?
And when Pim sent those messages, it made it sound like… Like he wanted the both of them to share you, take care of you, to make you happy. Butterflies fluttered in Charlie's stomach again, and underneath his fur, his face burned.
God, what a mess. He was too tired for this. Too tired to deal with this and having to get up early in the morning. He just wanted to sleep, but you and Pim haunted his thoughts.
Charlie let his whole body go loose. Fine. Maybe… Maybe Pim was right. His brain could think up whatever weird bullshit it wanted, just let him sleep and he'll deal with the ramifications in the morning. He didn't care.
He imagined… You. Lying prone on under his covers, Charlie felt his fingers twitch, itching to reach out and touch you. So, in his mind, he did. He was a big guy, and despite not being particularly affectionate, he'd been told he gives great hugs. Would you think so, too? Did you imagine what it would be like in his hold? His body so close it was like you were melding together, the shapes of your body fitting together perfectly.
And you'd be… Maybe on a picnic? Or having fun at Daveland? Some sort of fancy restaurant that he couldn't actually afford? Nah, Charlie didn't really need anything fancy to be with the person he loved. The… The people he loved. You and he and Pim, chilling at his place. It'd be late at night. He'd put a movie in that you'd already seen before like a million times, but you still loved watching it. You in his lap, using him as a pillow as you laid back, and Pim able to sit in your lap thanks to his small stature.
You'd eat comfort food and snacks together, repeating the lines you'd memorized by heart and cracking jokes and making each other laugh. You might not even make it through the entire movie. Charlie figured he wouldn't. He'd feel… So warm. So nice and warm and safe and… Complete. Holding the two of you, the two people he loved most in the world, falling asleep with the feel of you and Pim close to his heart.
And then Charlie shot up, morning light flitting in through slightly parted curtains as he alarmed blared loudly next to him. Turning, he fumbled with his phone before finally dismissing the alarm and plunging the room back into silence.
God, morning already?
Charlie groaned, rubbing the sleepiness from his face with both of his hands, fingers brushing against his snout. Sighing heavily, Charlie squinted down at his phone, eyes burning at the sudden light. He managed to open his messages - two recent ones. A good morning text from you, and one from Pim. The critter's heart fluttered, from affection and anxiety.
Charlie bit his lip, before shaking his head and begrudgingly getting out of bed, away from the warmth and comfort of the blankets and his fantasies.
Mornin', Charlie! I hope you thought over what I said yesterday. I'll see you later!
Pim… Pim had been right. He did need you. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to take care of you. They both did.
But, that didn't mean Pim wasn't crazy. It just meant they both were.
#yandere x reader#yandere x reader x yandere#poly yandere#yandere poly#yandere imagines#yandere imagine#yandere hcs#yandere headcanons#smiling friends x reader#yandere smiling friends#charlie dompler x reader#charlie dompler x reader x pim#pim x reader#yandere#yandere headcanon
395 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello miss jo! i wanted to share my new fic obsession with you, which is reading fics about hero cons! but mostly can only find character x characters ones..
are you a convention person? like, i'm imagining so many fun things with this setting. tagging along as dynamight's plus one, are the two of you out to the public or are you being confused as a staff member?
OR attending the con to meet dynamight, getting in line for an autograph and katsuki has to shift awkwardly when you come up in your cute little cosplay because he's chubbing up at the sight of you in his costume
even better, katsuki walking around the con early incognito because he's a fanboy as much as he is a hero. catches his name in a couple conversations, your voice sticking out the most when you talk about riding his face and having him bend you over the nearest merch table. man nearly chokes as he heads to his panel he's already a couple minutes late for because he couldn't tear himself away from eavesdropping. and you swear later when your sitting among the audience he keeps shooting smirks right at you, but why the hell would he? it's not like dynamight's ever seen you before this!
I’ve definitely got some little drabbles about this!! I can try and find them tomorrow, although I vividly remember one in particular is sleazy Red Riot taking advantage of his cute fans (and Dynamight fans) and there was one about someone being mean about your Dynamight trivia at a con and Dynamight steps in and says you’re right and they’re wrong ahhhh.
I love cons! I don’t go to them as much anymore, but I’m obsessed with the idea of being able to meet Dynamight at a con and you’re doing everything you can to secure the photo pass and the signature so you get to meet him twice.
I love no one knowing who you are, so they think you’re staff and they try to boss you around and Bakugou is like excuse me??? That is my wife. (You’re not even married but you get the idea). Or you’re just bored sitting at his table all day, because to the world this is Dynamight but to you it’s your boyfriend so you end up going shopping or going to check out the other guests that are there. Maybe you have a teeny tiny crush on Pro-Hero Hawks so you go to his Q&A and Bakugou is jealous, but he still sets up a private photo op for you— “You know you could just go to his agency any day of the week.” “Yeah but then I wouldn’t be wearing this cute outfit, Kats🥺”
But I also love the idea of being a staff member, and maybe you’re not from Japan you’re just a member of the event team so you don’t really know who any of these Pro-Heroes are; and you accidentally run into Red Riot? And you both end up talking over lunch or something and then you go and watch him on stage later doing the Q&A and you have no idea what he’s saying but you just think he’s super cute.
But omg your last idea, of him being incognito? Like just wandering around and buying merch and action figures or whatever— because he’s an All Might collector himself. And then he sees a pretty thing dressed up as him and he can’t help but listen to you go on about the sinful things you’d do to him, and he prays later that you have a photo pass. But now he’s gotta spend his entire Q&A panel with a raging hard on because of you, and of course he spots you in the crowd.
46 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Blog recommendation of the month
October 2022 - @blsphoto
Interview
1. When and how did you start getting interested in photography?
I started photography in 2013 but more seriously in 2014 after an injury that immobilized me for several weeks. So I took advantage of this time to learn shooting modes, manual shooting, photography vocabulary and techniques. I was first very methodical in learning how to use the camera and then I took a lot of time to discover and learn the composition. I quickly turned to street photography, first in black and white and then in color. I evolved and improved my equipment and my technique and independently, without training or lessons.
2. If you had to describe yourself as a photographer in one sentence, what would that sentence be?
I would use the well-known sentence of Henri Cartier Bresson:
“To photograph is to put the head, the eye and the heart on the same line of sight.”
3. Is there anything you learned during your photography journey that you wish you had known when you were just starting out?
It’s not the material that makes the picture. Of course the need for quality is often linked to the price that we put in a camera. However, this is not a sufficient rule. I took beautiful photos with an entry-level camera or my smartphone that I will not do again with my current camera which is more expensive. You have to find a camera that suits your practice and adapts to your lifestyle.
4. What inspires you?
I really like street photography in general, but more specifically some street photographers who focus on capturing portraits of offbeat people. I really like characters that are a little out of time in everyday street scenes. I am also very inspired by the vintage atmosphere reminiscent of the films of the time, the night street photos which I still do not do enough and also the style of the street photographers who work in Asian atmospheres like Japan.
5. How would you describe your photography?
My photography is “local” street photography. It is local because it is not in New York, Paris or London that I practice it like the great photographers but rather the towns and villages of my region of Brittany in FRANCE. This gives a more rustic photograph but with urban codes. I’m obsessed with people’s posture. Respecting image rights, I want people to be able to imagine people without seeing their faces.
Technically, I photograph discreetly but without hiding. I value my subjects without trapping them. I immortalize them only to respect them. I never go out without my camera bag !
PWS - Stephi
#pws#photographers on tumblr#original photographers#artists on tumblr#original photography#photography#submission#blog recommendation of the month
63 notes
·
View notes