#that would wind up a runner

[linc-karo-27]

The more I hear about that set the more I assume it was a melting pot of stress and tempers and arguments. And ngl it doesn't surprise me. This is what I was wondering.

Do I condone what I feel th**trebo*rd thread suggested (without evidence of any kind not even mild context which is needed when this is not a common view of someone even from DM) of someone being nasty and short with crew?

No

Not at all - that isn't adult behaviour. You're better than this. This is not acceptable at all. Especially from someone who's usually "drama free".

Do I genuinely wonder if this was caused by set and/or was a result of winding up?

Yes.

Yes I do. If I spent 12-16 hours a day in what seemed to be a melting pot of mess and stuff and wound up enough someone did something trivial, I'd snap at them.

But until evidence is coming out of what happened (bar the one line of "X is equally as a diva as Y") I'm saying from the context it was a one off/happened now and then from the person not always being there. aka. it kicked off a lot but wasn't constant and it was just a coincidence it was a lot while there were there.

But yeah. The amount of mess so far that press tour is gonna be bribe central.

edit: I THINK *THAT* ATTITUDE ARTICLE IN 2018 (MAYBE 2019) WAS THE ANSWER - WATCH IT BE HIS WEIRD "RITUALS" BECAUSE HE WAS JUST VERY STRESSED THERE BECAUSE IT WAS A PRESSURE COOKER.

[paunchsalazar]

top 5 fave characters

surprise, surprise… I really tried to narrow it down!! I think when they are on screen I sit up in my seat… but there are a lot of characters who almost made the cut

[hanjsquokka]

when the cherry blossoms fall.

lee minho × fem!reader — soulmate au, high school au, time traveling, love at first sight, drawing closer × lovely runner, fluff/angst

summary — minho wasn't meant to see you there, falling for you before he even knew your name or why you were attached to that tube. fate was so cruel to bring you close, only to pull you away before he got to tell you those three little words he was keeping inside him. but when the same cruel destiny presented an opportunity to make things right, he wasn't going to let it slip away from him again.

warnings — mentions of illness, death, hospitals, time traveling, depression, characters are aged 18/19 for half of the story, blood (i don't want to spoil the whole plot so i'll just leave it at this)

word count — 6.7K words

soundtrack — listen here

author's note — drawing closer broke me. i have never cried so much, it was just so sad :(. i love writing high school au sm, it's a lot of fun. this layout is inspired by the lovely @starseungs <3 i hope you enjoy reading this. please reblog and comment, i'd love to hear your thoughts since this is something very different to what i've written before <33

The fan above him spun around with a loud creak, making more noise than giving him air. The environment was cold outside, with winter still clinging to the wind, making a chill run down his spine amidst his worry for his friend. Hyunjin was far too reckless for his own good—why did he never listen to Minho? He was right after all. He did that stupid skateboard stunt, and now look what happened. Minho had to bring him to the hospital because he was almost a hundred percent sure he broke his leg.

“You're not a teenager anymore, Hyunjin,” Minho chided as Hyunjin paid him no heed, too excited to ride the skateboard that he found in the dusty boxes of his garage. Once upon a time, Hyunjin was really good at skateboarding. But it had been years since then. “At least do something normal.”

“Normal is for losers.”

He shook his head, not wanting to recount the sound of the sickening crack of the skateboard followed by his friend's wail of pain. A wave of goosebumps formed over his skin as he tried to focus on something else, like how he would tell him I told you so when he saw him about how he could be as dumb as he was seven years ago and watch him roll his eyes. He gazed at the branch of the sakura tree he could see outside the window, still bare from the snowy months.

The faint smell of soap was followed by loud giggles. He turned his head to the source of the sound, eyes following on a couple young kids jumping up and down as they were surrounded by bubbles, dancing around a person sitting in a wheelchair. 

That was when he saw you.

You blew another bout of the soapy spheres, the sunlight refracting through them and creating tiny, diffused rainbows. Your eyes nearly turned into crescents, crinkling at the corners as you laughed along with the children. Your smile was so contagious that he could feel the corners of his own lips tugging upward. It was like the filter of his eyes changed, and the world suddenly became more vibrant and colorful—just because of you. He didn't even notice the tube that ran along beneath your nose, the way you couldn't move your body beneath your waist, or the ill-fitting hospital gown you had on. 

Minho couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not even when a nurse approached him to inform him of Hyunjin's condition. A quick snap brought him out of his trance, his ears turning red along with his cheeks. He quietly got up and shuffled behind the nurse towards the room Hyunjin was resting in.

Over the next week, Minho visited the hospital twice a day to meet Hyunjin, once in the morning before work and once in the evening after work. A couple of their other friends came every now and then, but it was mostly just Minho.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

Not to be disrespectful to his friend, but he wanted to see you without getting hounded by relentless teasing and possibly drive you away (not like he had ever spoken to you; no, this was all in his head).

There was something about you that drew Minho in, like a moth to a flame. Like he knew you from somewhere, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

The following Sunday, the day Hyunjin was being discharged, Minho was there at the hospital. He was miserably failing at operating the water cooler to quench his parched throat, his ears turning pink from the effort of trying to find out why water wasn't coming out of the faucet when he turned the knob. 

“That thing has never worked,” a voice said from behind. You approached him in your wheelchair, a permanent smile on your face as you looked at him, hands folded in your lap.

“Oh…” He felt stupid. 

“Here you go.” You handed him a plastic water bottle, which he gratefully took and took a few gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I've seen you a lot around here; are you unwell?”

“Oh? No, no—my friend—he did something stupid and broke his leg. I didn't want to leave him alone.”

You nodded your head. “That's sad. Is he okay?”

Minho nodded. “He's okay enough to talk my ear off.” He chuckled, to which you chuckled in return. A warm, fluttery feeling rose on his chest at the thought of him making you smile. “Thank you... for the water.”

“No problem. You looked like you were going to break that.”

“Was I?” His face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly at your words. 

“What's your name?”

“Minho. What about you?”

“Y/n.”

Y/n… He liked that. He wanted to say something more—to keep talking to you so he could hear that voice of yours that made his heart tap dance in his rib cage when a group of kids ran up to you, talking over each other in excited giggles and shrieks. You laughed along with them as they tugged at your hand.

“I'm sorry. I'll see you again later?” He nodded quickly, forgetting that Hyunjin was going to be discharged. He had no reason to come back, but you wanted him to come back, right? Or were you just being polite in front of the kids so he wouldn't be reduced to a pile of shame?

Despite his conflicting thoughts, he found himself visiting the hospital every day without fail, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you, and was surprised to see you waiting for him near the water cooler. That set your friendship in motion, with you talking endlessly every evening about anything and everything. The invisible red string that tied him to you brought him closer and closer. You were a siren, and he was a sailor entranced by your voice.

The weather grew warmer, and spring began to show itself in the trees and in the flowers. The snow-covered roads were no longer a hassle to drive on, and Minho could finally put away his boots, opting for a more comfortable pair of shoes for work and to visit you. Like clockwork, at five in the evening, he switched off his computer, shoved his papers into his work bag, and made a beeline for his car, no longer needing a map because he already knew the way.

You were there waiting for him in your room after he checked in at the reception, eager to tell him more tales and funny stories, anecdotes of other patients, and the kids you hung out with. Sometimes, you and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, you sat in silence, sketching away in your book, while he sat beside you, reading a book.

Minho showed you pictures of his three cats, which you dawned on almost immediately, cooing at the sight of the three kitties, making his heart melt. He wished he could bring them, but he couldn't, so he showed you as many videos and photos he could since they seemed to bring you immense joy.

Some days, however, you could hardly sit up, laying down on the bed with a grimace on your face. You thought you could hide from him, but he knew you were in pain. He was in pain, seeing you like that. You didn't mention it in your endless conversation, so he assumed you didn't like to talk about it.

He never asked you why you were in the hospital in the first place, why all the happiness drained out of your face when you tried to move in your wheelchair, why that tube sat above your pretty pink lips—he didn't see all that. He only saw you.

You and your wonderful smile.

You and your ability to light up his world.

You and the way you always made his heart skip a beat.

You and your beautiful eyes that he swore held galaxies inside; he could stare at them forever.

“I can't wait for the sakuras to bloom,” you said one day, the two of you sitting in the shade of a cherry blossom outside of the hospital. “It's my favorite part of the whole year.” But while you were looking at the budding pink blossoms, he was looking at your face.

He was falling. Falling hard. You were the first thought on his mind when he woke up and the last one when he went to sleep. He dreamed of you, sweet little fantasies of spending the rest of his life with you.

He knew you better than himself, that you liked pancakes drowned in syrup and berries on top, that you loved a specific type of daisy called a gerbera daisy—a flower that looked as vibrant as you, that you hated the thunder but loved the rain, and that you were an amazing artist. Your dreams of becoming a painter and having something in the Louvre Museum in Paris, visiting the top of Tokyo Tower, and swimming at the beach. It made you so happy to talk about them that it made him happy, grinning ear to ear as you animatedly explained all the details to him.

“Whoa, we were in the same class,” Minho said, eyes wide with shock as he looked at the yearbook in your hands. You were both on the topic of school when you found out that the place you were describing felt too similar. It was only when you talked about a certain math teacher that you realized it was the same person.

Minho dug through his old school things at home and found his yearbook; the insides of the cover were scribbled with so many names of people whom he used to call friends.

It was funny how you two had crossed paths before, but he had no recollection of you. He silently cursed at his past teenage self for not knowing you—then again, fate worked in different ways.

“Yeah, I was looking through it, and I saw your face. Weird, right?” He nodded, looking at the photo of you from seven years ago. You looked almost exactly the same, except now your hair has grown out much more. How had he never noticed you?

His feelings towards you have only increased since then, to the point where they felt suffocating to bottle up inside him. Like a volcano waiting to erupt. He took one look at your face and zoned out, completely missing what you said and barely covering up when you asked him for his opinion. He had to bite his tongue every time he almost blurted out that sentence that was marinating in his brain.

I love you.

“You're down bad,” Hyunjin told him after Minho confessed to having feelings for you after he was confronted about his visits to the hospital for the past two months. “Like bad bad. I never thought I'd see you like this.”

“I like her,” Minho admitted again. “A lot. Now that I've known her, I don't think I can go back to pretending she doesn't exist.”

“Then tell her.”

He paused. “Confess… to Y/n?”

Hyunjin let out an exasperated sigh, shifting his position on the couch. “Yes, Minho, proclaim your love to the woman you love.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“If you like her so much despite her problems, then it's worth a shot, don't you think? And I have a feeling she feels the same way.”

“You think so?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

There is only one way to find out.

Hyunjin was right. Minho should confess. No harm in doing that, right? He picked out his best shirt, tucking it into his pants, and looked at his reflection in the mirror, messing with his hair for a while before he gave up and let it be. He smoothed down the wrinkles in the crisp white shirt, wondering if he was too dressed up for this. He sprayed on some cologne that you had complimented the day he wore it and gave himself a pep talk as he drove to a flower shop.

With bright red gerbera daisies in hand, he took a few deep breaths in front of the hospital entrance. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, ready to fall at any moment. You would love to see them, he thought, smiling to see himself. If things went the way he wanted them to, he would bring you out here and sit at a bench. Maybe get some ice cream from the cafeteria and watch the sakura trees.

Minho steeled himself and walked inside, making his way to the front desk. It was a daily routine, but today was different. His hair on the back of his neck was on end, and his heart was beating uncomfortably loudly in his chest.

“I'm here to see Y/N,” he told the receptionist. He was expecting her to tell him to go down the hallway, take the elevator up to your floor, and go to your room, as he did every day. He didn't expect the nurse to look up at him with a solemn face, a jolt of panic going through him even before she said anything.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. She passed away earlier today. Her illness suddenly became worse, and her body couldn't fight it.”

His heart dropped, along with the bouquet of red flowers in his hands. “What? But—but I was here yesterday. She was fine. How—” His vision blurred with tears as the nurse once again shook her head in sorrow. His ears rang loudly, hands gripping onto the countertop hard enough to make his knuckles white, his throat closing up as he felt like the whole world was crumbling in front of him. His heart was ripped out of his chest and trampled upon as the nurse explained to him and told him about your final resting place. She handed him an envelope, sealed with a sticker of a strawberry and his name written on the front in your handwriting.

He sat in his car and cried for a long time, his forehead resting on the steering wheel as sob after sob racked through his body. His throat ached and his eyes burned, but he couldn't stop crying. The world became dull again; the happiness and light that you once brought are gone. Even after he shed his last tear, his heart squeezed dry and now hollow, he still couldn't will himself to drive away; he couldn't make himself look at the envelope sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

Minho blasted the air conditioner and closed his eyes to take a few deep breaths, but he was plagued by visions of you, and the pain in his heart increased tenfold. He didn't know how long he was sitting there in his car, but he did know that he could never tell you how much he loved you, how you made his life worth living, and how he would cherish you with his whole heart for eternity.

I love you.

Dear Minho,

If you're reading this then… I must not be there anymore. Firstly, I want to thank you for making the last few months of my life so memorable. I loved every moment I spent with you, and I wish I could've had many more—perhaps a lifetime more. Thank you for making me smile when my heart felt heavy, for making me laugh when I felt like crying, and for showing me so much more love than I deserve. 

Second, I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you the full story of me, the reasons why I'm paralyzed below my waist, and why I was so sick I could barely move sometimes. Because when you were there, I wanted to be happy. I didn't want to think about my illness or the fact that I would die and leave you alone. It was too much to bear, although I thought about it every night.

All those dreams I told you about? The biggest one I had was to be with you. This is the third thing I wanted to tell you, but I never had the chance because I was too much of a coward, which is that I like you. No, I love you. I've loved you since we were in school. I recognized you in the hospital that day, and you didn't, but I was so happy to see you again, although I wish you didn't have to see me in that state, lying on my deathbed.

I love you so much, Lee Minho. I wish we had more time together, but I cherished every moment we had. I love you, and I always will. And I hope you do too.

Forever,

Y/n.

The words in your letter were permanently etched into his brain, a painful reminder of your absence and of how oblivious he was to your reciprocated feelings. He couldn't move for a few days, lying in bed, alternating between crying and simply staring at the ceiling, memories of you playing in his head again and again like a broken record he never wanted to fix.

Minho didn't visit you until Sunday, not wanting to believe the harsh reality of you not being with him anymore. He did his best to hide any remnant of his red eyes and puffy face, dressed in the shirt you liked, and bought red gerbera daisies once again to see you. He had to look good for you.

It took him a while to find you, but there you were.

In loving memory of a loving daughter and dear friend, Y/N L/N

(25.03.1999 - 10.04.2024)

“Hey,” his voice cracked. He stubbornly tried to blink at the tears forming in his eyes. Minho bit his lip, kneeling down to place the flowers in front of the tombstone and brushing some dirt off of the granite. “I miss you.” A wobbly smile formed on his face. He could almost see your face in front of him, a teasing glint in your eyes as you poked fun at him. He sniffled, turning away to wipe his eyes. “And you never gave me the chance to tell you that... that I love you too. I was nervous, and now I'm too late. I'm sorry, Y/n.” He choked on his words and stood up. “I would do anything to get you back.”

There was a cool breeze, ruffling his hair. He thought it was you and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hands carding through his air. He felt something fall on him—cherry blossoms. The wind carried them in a delicate dance, surrounding him and you in a flurry of pink petals.

“The sakuras are blooming,” he said sadly.

But you weren't here to see it.

The drive home was silent. Minho didn't put the radio on, half focused on the idle roads and darkening horizon. The cherry blossom trees all over the city were blooming, he noticed, as his car stood idle at a red light. He believed a part of him died along with you. You were his soulmate; that's what he liked to believe. You were connected in more ways than one, with destiny pulling on your strings to get you close and then snipping the thread at the last second.

The light turned red. He changed the gear and moved forward.

It all happened too fast: the rev of another car coming in from his side at a speed double that of the limit, him noticing too late as the front crashed to his left, his head flying into the window and breaking the glass into shards that wedged into his skin.

And then everything went black. 

Minho's head shot up. Was he dead? Did he die in that car crash? His head was killing him; a throb was coming from deep inside his brain, making him wince and hold his head. But there was no blood on his hands when he pulled away. How was that possible?

“Are you okay?” He looked up. Hyunjin was approaching him along with a few other people he recognized as Bang Chan, Han Jisung, and... Kim Seungmin? He hadn't spoken to the last one since high school. “I think it hit you really hard.”

“What do you mean, I was in a—” He halted in his tracks. “What are you wearing?” Minho's eyes were trained on the gray blazer he was wearing, a gold pin affixed to the lapel. Underneath was a navy blue waistcoat and a white shirt collar peeking above.

Hyunjin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“No,” he said, letting out something that was a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “Why are you wearing that? Are you pulling my leg?”

“My… uniform?”

“Yah, Minho, did you hit your head that hard?” Jisung laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder, making him bend. 

“Of course I did, I—”

His mind clicked. They were standing on a field. Not just any old field—their school play field, where they used to play soccer every day after class. There was laughter and yelling all around him. Hyunjin, Jisung, Chan, and Seungmin—even Minho himself—were wearing the same clothes. Gray blazer, white shirt, gray slacks, and the gold pin. Some were wearing the navy blue waistcoat and a tie, but it was the same thing from seven years ago.

“This isn't funny; why are we here?” This had to be some joke, courtesy of Jisung. He was a prankster, but this was taking it too far.

“Minho, are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?” Chan had worry written all over his face. 

Minho glanced at each of them, getting more and more confused by the second. His eyes flitted down to his clothes and back up, at the other students, the school building, and back to his friends.

“Maybe he has a concussion,” Seungmin quipped. “I told those rugby guys to take it down a notch.”

Those words sounded familiar. A sense of deja vu washed over him, his hair pricking on end, and a light bulb went off in his head.

This has happened before.

“Hey, Lee Minho... You're scaring me.” Hyunjin's hand held his left bicep and shook him.

“This happened before... Why am I here? I graduated school seven years ago...” He muttered underneath his breath.

“What are you saying? I think we need to take you to the nurse.”

Minho cut Chan off. “Today, what is today's date?”

“April 10th, why?”

“The year, Seungmin.”

“2017—”

The air was knocked out of his lungs. He was in the past. Seven years in the past. He was still in his last year of high school, liked playing soccer, never wore the uniform correctly, and was still friends with Kim Seungmin.

“Y/n…” 

You would be alive. If he was right and he was somehow transported back in time to when he was in school, you would be alive. You would be okay, not lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, waiting for your illness to consume you. 

He had another chance.

“Y/n? You mean from our class? Why d—”

Minho leaped at Hyunjin, his eyes blazing with determination. He held his shoulders as he spoke again. “Where is she?”

“I think she was leaving?”

That was all Minho needed to know. He quickly grabbed his bag and bolted down the field onto the pavement that led to the main gate. He could hear his friends calling for him; they were undoubtedly confused by his behavior, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was make sure you were alive. He spotted a girl walking, a backpack slung over her back.

There was only one way he could find out.

“Y/n?” He called, hoping he wasn't making a fool of himself in front of someone else.

The girl turned, and his heart stopped.

It was you, a younger version of you, the one from the yearbook, looking at him with a confused tilt of your head. He could see your lips move, probably saying his name, but he couldn't hear it. There was a gust of wind, the breeze urging him to surge forward, and he did, colliding into your body and embracing you tightly. His breaths were uneven, tears forming in his eyes as he rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair.

“You're okay…” He squeezed you tighter.

You were the first one to pull away; your cheeks were tinted pink. You couldn't meet his eyes. “Why did you do that? Is something wrong, Minho? Of course I'm okay.”

Minho felt something fall on his shoulder. A sakura. The cherry blossom trees were blooming, showering the two of you with a cascade of pink petals. His eyes searched yours, but he could only see bewilderment. A relieved laugh escaped him. He squatted on the ground and covered his face with his hands.

He got another chance.

Another chance with you.

He looked back up at you and felt a multitude of emotions bubble up in him, but the main one was love.

“Yeah, you're okay.”

“You're acting weird.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Sure, but—”

“Great.”

Minho was all smiles; he couldn't stop it. His heart was beating out of his chest as he walked alongside you, gripping onto the strap of his bag, his ears turning pink every time your shoulders brushed his. He was beyond happy, relieved, and excited, all at the same time. He tried to fill the silence of the walk by asking you questions like how your day had gone, what you ate for lunch, and if he could walk home with you every day.

You were completely flustered and confused; he could see that. It must be weird for you for him to come talk out of nowhere. He remembered that you had liked him since high school, so that means this would work out. He just had to act normal and make sure he would change your fate and his, to make sure that you would be with him forever.

“This is me,” you awkwardly gestured to the house the two of you had stopped in front of.

Minho nodded, feeling a little upset that you had to go away too soon. “Right… Well, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Minho. Get home safe.”

“I will,” he grinned and waved goodbye before he set for his house, turning around one last time to see you on the porch if your house was doing a happy dance, which made him laugh, his face flushing red.

You were okay.

And so was he.

It took him a while to find his own house in the unfamiliar neighborhood he was in. He missed living in his parent's place, with his mother's home-cooked food that he hadn't eaten in ages. When was the last time he visited his mom and dad? He eagerly went up to the door and opened it, the familiar sight of the entryway making him nostalgic. 

“Someone's all smiles today,” his mom said with a chuckle, watching him untie his shoes and put on his house slippers. His mother looked younger than he had last seen her, wearing a cardigan. He remembered that she said that it had shrunk in the washing machine. It was brand new now. “Did you have a good day today, sweetheart?”

“The best. I'll be in my room,” he said, almost tripping over his two feet in giddiness as he went up the stairs to his bedroom. It looked exactly the same as he used to have it. He threw his bag onto the floor and then himself onto his bed, breathing in the smell of the detergent on the bedsheets.

“This is crazy,” he said to himself. If all of this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Maybe he was in a coma from the car crash, but it all felt too real. He remembered this day happening before: getting hit in the head by a rugby ball, and Seungmin chiding the guys who were playing with it. This was obviously not a prank; everyone looked younger and was befuddled, looking at him like he was nuts. 

He time-traveled. Actually, time traveled back to the past to save you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He even had his old phone.

Hyunjin: Minho, you're okay, right? You were acting really weird.

Minho: Yeah, I'm fine. I think I got hurt more than I thought I did.

Hyunjin: Okay 🤨

Hyunjin: Why did you run off like that, though? You don't even talk to Y/N, and suddenly you were acting as if she were on the verge of death?

Minho : I just needed to check something.

Hyunjin: You're weird. Get some sleep and don't be late tomorrow again, or Seung's going to kill you.

Minho: I won't 🙄

He was back in 2017. He was a teenager again. 

“This is so cool.”

It was something straight out of a movie. Minho felt like he was living in a fever dream, being able to relive his adolescence. Since he knew how much he could lose, he made sure to make this second chance worth it. Instead of skipping meals and eating from the vending machine, he scarfed down whatever delicious meal his mother made, making both of his parents laugh at his sudden switch in behavior. 

“Eat slowly, or you'll choke,” his dad said with a chuckle when Minho piled on more food and eagerly shoved it down his throat.

He took the opportunity to join a dance class like he did when he was a kid, knowing that he regretted not doing it years later.

Instead of wasting time in class and being moody, he studied—trying to study. 

Then again, he had you to help. Y/N, the wise one, teased when the two of you sat together in the library during lunch on the premise of studying, but you mostly ended up laughing so hard that the librarian kicked the two of you out. 

He spent more time with his friends, doing everything he was bitter about later in life.

Months passed by like this. Minho woke up in his bed every day, was greeted by his 2PM posters on his wall, ate breakfast with his parents, and went to school. He daydreamed about you in class, much to the suspicions of his friends, and walked home with you. He had to make sure nothing happened to you that would derail his plan for the perfect future.

“Do you like Y/N?” Hyunjin asked during lunch one day, pulling a chair out in front of him with a loud scraping noise. It was autumn, and the air was much colder in the mornings than it was a few weeks ago. The cherry blossom trees were barren, awaiting spring to bloom once more. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Hyune.” Minho greeted him and continued to eat his lunch.

“Don't deflect my question. Do you like her or not?”

“And if I do?”

Hyunjin's eyes went so big that Minho thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. “Seriously?”

“Why is it that interesting to you?”

“Oh, this is a golden opportunity.” Hyunjin leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

“Why are you so interested in my love life?”

“Please, the last time you admitted to having a crush, it was on the idol singer Lee Hyori. I have a right to be curious.” Minho rolled his eyes, but he was a bit flustered. He still hadn't thought of how he would take the relationship with you to the next level. The last time he planned to confess, well, that didn't end well. “What do you like about her? She's pretty; I get that. And she's really good at art, and she's smart.”

“Have you made your point?” He raised a brow.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh. “You're so mean, Lee Minho.” He hit his shoulder lightly. “I'm just saying this, okay? But I accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation her friends were having—an accident, okay? And I think I heard Y/n's name moving in the same sentence.”

Minho choked, his face turning red as he coughed, picked up his water bottle to drink some water, and took big gulps of air afterwards. “What?”

Hyunjin's words haunted him the whole day and then the next day because you weren't coming to school, nor were you answering his texts. He was trying hard to not look desperate, but he was grasping at straws. 

The weekend rolled around, and he was getting worried. What if Hyunjin was right and you had moved away? But you wouldn't do that without telling him, right? The two of you were friends. 

Friends.

His mother had the worst timing when she sent him to pick up some things from the store—a loud crack of thunder and the pitter-patter of raindrops began the second he stepped into the convenience store. He grabbed the things he needed as well as an umbrella, purchasing all of them at the register before standing outside underneath the umbrella.

That was when he caught the familiar sight of your form, crouching on the side of the road next to a small ball of fluff. The umbrella you were using barely covered you, as you were instead shielding a pair of kittens and cooing at them.

Minho's heart leaped into his chest, his legs moving on their own towards you and standing right next to you, covering you with his own umbrella. You looked up and then at him, a smile breaking out on your face, but this time he didn't return it.

“What happened to you? You disappeared for two days, and Hyunjin said you were moving and you weren't responding to me and—”

“Whoa, Min, breathe,” you chuckled and stood up. “What moving? I'm not moving. My friend is.”

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Oh.”

You laughed. “Were you worried about me?”

“Of course I was,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat and looked away from you, his heart dancing in his ribcage. He'd planned to do this once before, but standing in front of you, all the courage drained right out of him, and he was left as a puddle of nerves. “So why didn't you come to school then?”

“I was sick.”

“You were sick. And you were out here standing in the rain for two cats?” He shook his head. “Hold this.” He pushed the umbrella he was holding into your hands and quickly shed his jacket, putting it over your shoulder and pulling the hood over your head, using it to try and dry your hair. “You're going to get sick again.” His hands stopped at the sides of your face, his lips parting as he looked into your eyes.

“Thank you…” Your face was also turning red at the proximity between the two of you that he just noticed. 

Minho swallowed the lump in his throat. Now or never. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I couldn't tell you this before because I was too scared, but now I know how much I have to lose.”

“What are you saying, Min?”

“Just let me finish, okay?” He took a deep breath, pushing a stand of wet hair out of your face. “I… I like you, Y/N. For a really long time, longer than you think.”

He waited with bated breath for your answer. “I like you too, Minho. I've liked you for a while now.”

He couldn't wait anymore. It was obviously too forward of him, but he'd been dreaming of this for way too long, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers again. He pulled your face towards his and crashed his lips onto yours. You let out a muffled sound of surprise, but you reciprocated it, the umbrella falling out of your hands and onto the ground with a thud. Your arms rested on his shoulders while his drifted down to your waist, holding you in an embrace as he tenderly kissed you. Fireworks went off inside him. He could feel the thundering of your heart right above his. The two of you were soaked from the relentless rain, but he could care less.

He broke the kiss, his forehead leaning on yours as he took a few breaths. “Sorry, I just really wanted to do that.” It was a half-baked apology since he wasn't very sorry at all. His eyes were closed, taking in the intimacy of the moment.

“I liked it; don't worry. Just warn me next time, okay?”

Minho couldn’t help but tease you. "Oh, so you want a next time?” He laughed loudly when you hit his arm. “Of course there will be a next time; I plan on giving you many, many kisses.” He planted another one on your forehead to prove his point. He closed his eyes again and hugged you tightly.

Minho's head felt like it was splitting in two. Where was he? He blinked his eyes open, the white light above him causing him to groan. His clothes didn't feel wet anymore, and he was lying down with a white blanket over him. He lifted his hand up, only to see it was bandaged.

“Why—”

Memories of the car crash flooded his mind, and a flash of panic went through him. “No, no, no, no, no.” Was that really just a dream? Were you really gone? He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, his chest heaving up and down until—

“Thank God you're awake,” a voice said. He felt a hand brush the hair off of his forehead. The voice sounded too much like yours. But it couldn't be. All of that was in his imagination. 

Then you came into focus, your face filled with worry and your eyes pink, like you'd been crying for a while.

“Y-Y/n?” He lifted his bandaged hand up to your cheek. He needed to know you were real. He let out a sob of relief when he felt the warmth of your skin beneath his palm and then your own hand covering his. “You're here…”

“Of course I'm here, silly. Where else would I be?”

He pulled you onto him, tucking your head into his chest, and kissed the top of your head as a few tears rolled down his cheek. “Thank goodness.” He held you like that for a while, taking in the comforting scent of your perfume mixed in with the smile of your shampoo. “What happened?”

“Your car crashed on your way home from work... you don't remember?”

“That happened?”

“Yeah, the doctor said you had a concussion. You weren't waking up... I was so scared.”

His heart broke at your words. “I'm never leaving you, ever. You can't get rid of me that easily.” You let out a broken laugh and clung onto him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Minho was discharged a day later. The doctor said he might experience temporary amnesia due to his head trauma and that he'd regain his memories soon. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened. He'd managed to save you. You were here with him.

The two of you took a stroll in the park, hand in hand, underneath the cherry blossoms trees. “Hey, Y/n?” He said softly, making you turn to him with a soft hum. “I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too, Minho.”

That was all he needed to hear. A breeze shook the branches of the trees and the sakuras fell once again. He squeezed your hand and continued to walk alongside you as the pink petals and flowers showered on him, and this time, you were by his side. Where you were meant to be.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[chiscaralight]

Stealing Society

crack pipes, needles, PCP, and fast cars kinda mix really well, and a dead movie star!

includes: nsfw! illegal street racer!aventurine. use of the nickname ‘doll’ and ‘jewel’, car sex, fingering, public sex, slight exhibitionism, enjoy!

a/n: this was kinda inspired by Stealing Society by System of a down! i feel like the song fits the race theme somewhat. its one of my fav songs by them. i also just wanted to write abt fast cars and driving lololol.

street racer!aventurine is rich and young with alot of time on his hands. he's a thrill seeker, so what better way to while away his time than speeding down illegally blocked-off roads in the dead of the night with his competitors hot on his tail?

he's loved on the track! watchers chanting his name as he steps out of his sleek sports car to relish in his victory. they flock around him spewing words of praise and that's when he notices you. you're standing away but your eyes are locked on him all the same. the noises are loud, but the interest he's taken in you is louder. his steps are quick and calculated towards your frame. he's quick to introduce himself, but you already know who he is. so you tell him your name and he savors it on his tongue. the conversation is airy and fluid before he goes silent for a bit.

"how about we take a ride togther?"

the adrenaline pumping through your veins is unlike anything you've felt before. the wind nips at your face as he speeds down highways, weaving through tangles of cars and flying down lonely roads. he shifts one of his hands off the wheel to your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he lowly tells you to get ready. he's pushing down harder on the gas pedal. your laugh is like music to his ears as you reach speeds you know you never have. this is light work for him, but you're having the time of your life!

your entire body feels like jelly as he opens the car door for you. he takes your hand and walks you to the door of your house, how chivalrous. his lips lightly graze your knuckles, but not before telling you he'd be back for you tomorrow.

it goes on like this for weeks! picking you up at odd hours, sending expensive gifts to your doorstep. the nights he has raced, he's scanning the crowds for your face, sighing in relief as you wave wide. he flashes you a wink and settles into his seat. the win he's going to bring back tonight would be for you. just like he promised, he's ripping through the tape of the finish line with the nose of his car mere seconds before the first runner-up. you're already there as he steps out of the car, ready to receive the kiss he's planting on your lips.

it's daytime when he calls you. it's weird because you're used to spending the dark nights with him. his voice is warm as the two of you tease each other back and forth, but his next statement catches you off guard.

" i want you to ride with me during the race tonight."

your heart is pounding. youre in your rightful place in the passenger seat of the new car he bought just for the race. the engine is revving and you're both watching those lights that signify the start of the race. the red light flashes first, and he tells you to put on your seatbelt. you're buckling yourself in. the fact he's never asked you to do this before isn't helping your already strained nerves. amber. you notice his isn't on, so you ask why. his laugh is slightly encouraging, but the words that follow srent.

"i wont need it. but you will, doll."

you barely catch the green light as he's practically flying down the road. you feel like you're in a movie, music blaring through the car speakers as his knuckles grip the wheel tighter. you can't help the way you gasp his name because the pressure is sending you into the fabric of the seat. your eyes widen as you approach the turn but he shows no signs of slowing down. the jerk to the wheel is sharp and the drift is almost too perfect. the entire track is full of twists and turns but they pose no threat to the blonde man. you can hear the announcer call out his name once he pulls back into the hub. you can feel the blood pumping in your ears and almost miss when he asks if you're okay. the breath you finally let out is a relief, and he tells you it's time to exit the car. the sound of the screams of the crowd is much different down here from in the stands. It is overwhelming, but aventurines' loomin presence is quick to calm you down as he steps beside you.

the flag-girl comes over to hand him the trophy, but he just nods his head in your direction. she hands it to you and you raise it high in the air, jumping slightly as the crowd roars once again.

your fingers graze over the intricate carvings on the trophy. they definitely didn't cut corners with this, so you're covered in disbelief when he tells you that its yours.

"aven, i cant keep this.."

but he insists! he has dozens like that and he's sure that if you weren't here. you know he's bluffing. hed been winning big long before he met you, but you decided to let it go.

"i wouldn't mind a different type of prize, though."

thats why youre here, parked on some quiet road, mouth full with his cock. your front is pressed into the center console as you bob your head up and down his length. the drivers seat is slightly reclined as the driver himself throws his head back in a fit of pleasure. your lips are clamped around him perfectly, tongue flattening against the underside of his cock while he softly rolls his hips. his orgasm is crashing down, painting your throat with his release while his body relaxes into the seat once more.

aventurine’s feet are planted hard on the ground outside the car door. his knees are digging into the seat as he drills into you. anybody could drive by and catch the two of you in this position, but it only makes it more exciting. he's whispering sweet words to you as his tongue trails the shell of your ear. the way his name drips from your lips is so addicting, that he can listen to it all day. the way your nails dig into his upper arm signals your incoming orgasm, so he makes sure he can see your beautiful face. your eyes roll back into your skull as you cry out one final time. he's pressing his lips lightly against yours once more before sliding into the driver's seat to get you both back home.

you're out of the house the next time he texts.

some people from the track found a new road and want me to test it. wanna come with, doll?

of course, you don't say no, but you're slightly reconsidering coming along now. he has one hand on the wheel, with the other one rubbing slow, teasing circles against your clit. all your pleas for some kind of relief only fall on deaf ears. he hushes you, assuring you that he'll take such good care of you when you get back, but this is the third time he's looping the road! he keeps the same pace when he finally pushes a finger deep into you.

you're almost at your wits' end as he pulls into the hub area. he winds down his tinted window just a bit to converse with one of the officials there.

"-other than that it seems to be okay. well, my jewel here seems to be a bit under the weather, so we'll be going now."

and with that, he sped off towards his abode because he was almost sure that if he wasted any more time, you'd stop the car yourself to climb into the driver's seat and straddle him. not like he would complain anyway. but unlike the way he drives, he wants to take his sweet time with you, pulling you apart piece by piece before putting you back together again.

[sl-ut]

Pretending to be hurt or sick so abby takes care of you with those big ass muscles because my dramatic ass would do that

no bc same

it def starts out when she's actually hurt tho. if we're talking canon abby, i mean like in danger, hurt, and likely to die if abby wasn't there to save her poor ass

they're out on patrol and some infected come out of nowhere while they're in the midst of fighting some scars, coming up behind y/n and giving her literally just enough time to roll out of the way so the infected goes for the scar that was on just about to kill her instead.

she's already winded and pretty messed up from the scar, but her last-second somersault out of the way leaves her with a bum knee and what's likely to be a concussion. she's a little out of it, and the runner coming at her would have had the perfect opportunity to rip her to shreds if abby hadn't jumped in and snapped it in half, wasting no time in scooping up her girl and sprinting away to safety. when they get back to the arena, y/n is basically put on bedrest for weeks until she's better, which she though she would hate, but she was quickly reminded of how wonderful it is to be doted on by her hunky, caring, and oblivious girlfriend.

by the time she was able to lean a bit of weight on her knee again, she quickly realised that she missed having abby help her shower, holding her against her firm chest as she gently helped her wash her hair. she missed getting carried up and down the stairs in abby's big meaty arms like she weighed nothing. so, then she did the obvious, she faked another injury to give herself another week or so of abby's constant hovering, but then quickly came to regret it.

it never really occurred to her that their sex life would be so affected by it. when she was actually hurt, she did not have much of a sex drive to begin with, and when she did, abby was glad to get her off with her fingers whenever she needed. but now, she was better, and she wanted nothing more than to get absolutely plowedddddd, but poor oblivious, lovestruck abby still thought she was hurt, and would only give her no more than two fingers at a time. she quickly sped that up, but abby kept her at arms reach until she was finally "better", and finally gave her what she wanted a full eight weeks after the initial injury.

now if we're talking sweet cliches!abby, she's harder to trick. let's think for a sec, she's premed, so she's on top of y/n's care and maintenance while she's hurt, so she also knows exactly when her symptoms go from real to fake, but she thinks it's really cute and certainly doesn't mind getting to shower and feed and love on her gf all the time and keep her cooped up in her apartment all to herself and watch movies and do self care and cook and omgomg omg omg i love her smmmm i need a big beefy premed gf to take care of me and deal with my nonsense like where is she

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it

After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.

His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.

He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.

“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”

Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.

Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”

He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”

“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.

He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”

“Oooh, so they were a runner??”

“Yeah, literally in this case.”

“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”

“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”

“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”

“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”

“Ah yes, of course.”

“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”

Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”

“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”

“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.

“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”

“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”

“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.

The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).

“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”

“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”

“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.

“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.

“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen. 

Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.

“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”

Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.

“Nope. Just met him tonight.”

“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”

She re-winds it again, squeals.

“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.

Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”

“...What pause?”

His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”

So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.

“...So?”

“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”

“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”

Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.

“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Yep, there it is.

So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.

He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold). 

“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.

He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.

She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”

“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”

She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.

He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.

He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.

He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen

Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!

Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.

Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…

Oh fuck.

No way.

“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”

He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”

thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3

tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist

[calummss]

Do You Get Déjà Vu | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: thomas doesn’t come to pick up his daughter. you decide to take her home only to find a man of a table with a bullet in his chest and a lot of deja vu

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 1.6k

a/n: just fluff and comedy tbh… not my usual angst i promise also, this takes place in 1919 because season 1 tommy has my heart. helena is around 9/10 years :)

How you disliked summer. Sweat pearls dripping simply sitting and breathing. Delicate fabric sticking to you like a bee and its honey. It was simply too hot for a woman to be wearing layers of modest clothing but here you were, sitting in front of your desk; no countertop in sight, too many different documents sprawled across the surface, each waiting on your eyes and conscious to scan it and then evaluate whatever category it fell into.

‘Miss Verys?’ Katie’s voice pulled you out of your slump, yet your heart skipped a beat when you saw her come closer with an arm full of newer papers that acquired your attention.

‘Please tell me you are joking…’

‘I fear not, Miss,’ she pressed her lips together as she placed them onto the right corner, the surface area with less than ten documents. ‘But these are all for the week.’ She smiled.

‘Finally some good fucking news,’ you huffed, ‘Sorry,’ you tilted your head when you realised Katie was taken aback by your choice of words.

‘Also I don’t wish to add more to your plate but Helena is still present. It seems Mr. Shelby has yet to pick her up. Do you want me to stay and wait with her?’

‘Katie you are truly an angel, really, I am so grateful but you are being paid to work on from eight to three, I couldn’t let you do that. Legally and from my heart.’ You curled your lips, fingers rubbing against the sheet of paper you were waiting to flip. ‘Just tell Helena to pack her things and to come to my office. Since I will be busy reading through all of these I might end up staying for quite a while.’

‘Of course. And thank you, Miss Verys, have a good day.’

‘You too.’

Katie left and you were stuck in front of an ocean of paper. If you had known that directing a school was so strenuous you might’ve thought about inaugurating a school twice. But it was a lovely institute. A school for girls with the most brightest and innovative minds, no runner up to men but competition with finest ideas.

Momentarily Helena came through the door and patiently stood at the door frame, her bag in her grip.

‘Hello Helena,’ you smiled at her. ‘Your father is not here yet?’

‘No.’

‘That’s okay, just wait here with me. I have much work and since we’re the only ones here I thought company would be nice, no? Sit,’ you pointed to the chair, Helena still standing at the entrance barely having moved.

Helena hummed in response.

‘So,’ you grabbed one of your quills to start signing documents that needed your signature. ‘What do you like to do when you’re not at school or doing homework? I am pretty sure you like horse riding?’

‘I do.’

‘Something else perhaps?’

‘Recently we bought a family car,’ Helena had sat down in the chair, laying her bag beside her as she relaxed into the seat. ‘When we got it we drove through the countryside…it was so thrilling. The wind on my face felt different to when I am riding. Daddy looked so happy too. I like cars.’

‘My my, what a riveting experience.’ You glanced at her from your work. ‘I remember my first time in a car. Felt exactly like how you described it.’

Helena beamed back you, her bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘My uncle Finn liked the car ride at first too but we had to stop because he got sick,’

‘And did you?’

‘No, I felt great. I love cars.’

‘I too think cars are the greatest innovation since the marvellous idea to roast and ferment cocoa beans to make chocolate.’ You let out a lighthearted laugh, infecting Helena with the same giggle.

‘I like chocolate.’

‘You do?’ Your lips curled. ‘Do you want one? I might have a bit stashed somewhere between all this energy-consuming work,’

‘I’ve only had it twice,’ Helena began another story, ‘It is very expensive and my father says it is bad for your teeth and that you mustn’t eat too much of it. He said that when he was visiting London he met a man outside of the sweet shop who became so round, simply for eating a lot of chocolate.’

‘Well best you have only one piece then,’ you put a piece into your mouth before giving her her piece. ‘This is my favourite. Got it from Cornwall. They make the best sweets.’

Taking the piece you handed her, she started eating it, her eyes in awe.

‘What about your father, Helena?’

‘What about him?’

‘What does he do for work?’ You asked, amusingly raising your eyebrows before taking the second heap of documents before you.

Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t think I can say.’

‘Why not?’

‘Family business…’

‘Family business?’ You looked up, Helena nodding her head in response. ‘I’m just curious that’s all. When you speak of him, you speak endearingly. You seem to have a very good relationship.’

‘We do.’ She ate the last bite, looking around the room. ‘If he wasn’t my father he would be my best friend.’

‘How sweet.’

With an easy lead conversation, time passed quicker than expected. But an hour later and Mr. Shelby still hadn’t come to pick up Helena.

With minutes passing you realised that Mr. Shelby wouldn’t show up anytime soon. It was also way past closing time so you had to start locking up the building. You thought it best to walk Helena home to see if anyone was there and if not you’d take her back to yours so she would have a safe place to stay until anyone got in touch.

‘Hello?’ You knocked against the door, the hard wooden door aching your knuckles as you repeatedly hit against it. ‘This is Miss Verys from Small Heath Institute for Girls. I have your daughter Helena with me as she has not been picked up yet.’ Your breath ricocheted off the door.

Seconds later you could hear the lock turning and were greeted by an older woman, her hair all over the place as her dark eyes burned into yours. Feeling as if she were about to take a jape at you, you quickly jumped back into your sentence. ‘I’m so sorry to intrude but I grew worried when Helena still hadn’t been picked up yet. I hope that all is well.’

Your eyes left her frame, seeing figures surrounding a table where there seemed to be a man laying down upon, quick huffs and puffs echoing from behind.

‘Arthur, shut up and just get this out of me.’

‘Drink this, Tommy. It’ll help with the pain.’

The unravelling scene before you had your full attention, completely forgetting the woman at the door.

‘I—oh no don’t do that!’ You raised your voice, pushing past her, now standing in the living room with three men staring at you. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I was a nurse at the front and seeing you just stick your fingers inside his wound just rang my bells.’

The man on the table had blue eyes that protruded from the dim light within the room, his chest covered in dry and fresh blood, sweat dampening his skin and clothes. You overheard that his name was Thomas Shelby, Helena’s father.

You stepped closer and examined his wound. A bullet wound. Minimal surface damage and easily removed.

‘If someone could get me some bandages, an unopened bottle of alcohol and some tweezers with a bowl of warm water.’

‘I’ll get it.’ Helena walked past you to what seemed to be the kitchen.

‘The cheap one, Hallie,’ the light haired one yelled after her, his toothpick sitting between his lips. ‘If you open that rum from the Caribbean, I swear to you that I won’t give you any more sweets.’

‘You give her sweets?’ Thomas lifted his head.

‘Sometimes.’

‘Mr. Shelby if you could just relax for a short time longer. I will get that bullet out of you as swiftly as possible.’

Further taking in his naked chest you noticed his tattoo. Similar to sun rays just above his right chest. You had seen this tattoo before…

‘Mr. Shelby, can I ask you something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you perhaps have a scar on your lower back? On your right just above your glutes?’

‘How do you know that?’ He stared up at you, holding your gaze as Helena came back with the supplies you needed.

‘Given it was a back injury you were transported to the tent on your stomach,’ you grabbed the alcohol to clean the wound, a hiss escaping him as you grabbed the tweezers, ready to pull out the metal embedded in his flesh. ‘I was the nurse that treated you. I was covered in ugly drapes and bloods, can’t say you could recognise me,’

Thomas winced as the ends of the tweezers dug around to grab the piece of metal, a small smirk on his lips. ‘You don’t say eh?’

‘I’m sure you’ll be having a déjà vu when I pull it out,’ you grabbed it and pulled it out, a loud growl escaping his lips as air pushed past his lips.

‘Thank you again.’

‘No problem, Mr. Shelby.’ You disposed of the bullet in a dish Arthur held out to you. ‘Next time Helena is not picked up I’ll bring her home and bring my first aid kit with me.’

‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he pulled himself up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. ‘Small Heath is starting you feel like a battlefield,’

‘Then I’ll be your nurse ready to care you to health.’

[sillylotrpolls]

(Relevant text below the poll)

Inspired by this post by @roselightfairy and replies by @herrhasen, @enide-s-dear, @unnamedelement, @dragonfirez, and @carlandrea.

If you'd like to refresh your memory of the Fellowship at its bitchiest (and Boromir at his best), the relevant text is below the cut.

Excerpted from The Fellowship of the Ring, Book II, Chapter 3: The Ring Goes South

Gimli looked up and shook his head. 'Caradhras has not forgiven us.' he said. 'He has more snow yet to fling at us, if we go on. The sooner we go back and down the better.'

To this all agreed, but their retreat was now difficult. It might well prove impossible. Only a few paces from the ashes of their fire the snow lay many feet deep, higher than the heads of the hobbits; in places it had been scooped and piled by the wind into great drifts against the cliff.

'If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you,' said Legolas. The storm had troubled him little, and he alone of the Company remained still light of heart.

'If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us,' answered Gandalf. 'But I must have something to work on. I cannot burn snow.'

'Well,' said Boromir, 'when heads are at a loss bodies must serve, as we say in my country. The strongest of us must seek a way. See! Though all is now snow-clad, our path, as we came up, turned about that shoulder of rock down yonder. It was there that the snow first began to burden us. If we could reach that point, maybe it would prove easier beyond. It is no more than a furlong off, I guess.'

'Then let us force a path thither, you and I!' said Aragorn.

Aragorn was the tallest of the Company, but Boromir, little less in height, was broader and heavier in build. He led the way, and Aragorn followed him. Slowly they moved off, and were soon toiling heavily. In places the snow was breast-high, and often Boromir seemed to be swimming or burrowing with his great arms rather than walking.

Legolas watched them for a while with a smile upon his lips, and then he turned to the others. 'The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf or over snow-an Elf.'

With that he sprang forth nimbly, and then Frodo noticed as if for the first time, though he had long known it, that the Elf had no boots, but wore only light shoes, as he always did, and his feet made little imprint in the snow.

'Farewell!' he said to Gandalf. 'I go to find the Sun!' Then swift as a runner over firm sand he shot away, and quickly overtaking the toiling men, with a wave of his hand he passed them, and sped into the distance, and vanished round the rocky turn.

The others waited huddled together, watching until Boromir and Aragorn dwindled into black specks in the whiteness. At length they too passed from sight. The time dragged on. The clouds lowered, and now a few flakes of snow came curling down again.

An hour, maybe, went by, though it seemed far longer, and then at last they saw Legolas coming back. At the same time Boromir and Aragorn reappeared round the bend far behind him and came labouring up the slope.

'Well,' cried Legolas as he ran up, 'I have not brought the Sun. She is walking in the blue fields of the South, and a little wreath of snow on this Redhorn hillock troubles her not at all. But I have brought back a gleam of good hope for those who are doomed to go on feet. There is the greatest winddrift of all just beyond the turn, and there our Strong Men were almost buried. They despaired, until I returned and told them that the drift was little wider than a wall. And on the other side the snow suddenly grows less, while further down it is no more than a white coverlet to cool a hobbit's toes.'

'Ah, it is as I said,' growled Gimli. 'It was no ordinary storm. It is the ill will of Caradhras. He does not love Elves and Dwarves, and that drift was laid to cut off our escape.'

'But happily your Caradhras has forgotten that you have Men with you,' said Boromir, who came up at that moment. 'And doughty Men too, if I may say it; though lesser men with spades might have served you better. Still, we have thrust a lane through the drift; and for that all here may be grateful who cannot run as light as Elves.'

'But how are we to get down there, even if you have cut through the drift?' said Pippin, voicing the thought of all the hobbits.

'Have hope!' said Boromir. 'I am weary, but I still have some strength left, and Aragorn too. We will bear the little folk. The others no doubt will make shift to tread the path behind us. Come, Master Peregrin! I will begin with you.'

He lifted up the hobbit. 'Cling to my back! I shall need my arms' he said and strode forward. Aragorn with Merry came behind. Pippin marvelled at his strength, seeing the passage that he had already forced with no other tool than his great limbs. Even now, burdened as he was, he was widening the track for those who followed, thrusting the snow aside as he went.

They came at length to the great drift. It was flung across the mountainpath like a sheer and sudden wall, and its crest, sharp as if shaped with knives, reared up more than twice the height of Boromir; but through the middle a passage had been beaten, rising and falling like a bridge. On the far side Merry and Pippin were set down, and there they waited with Legolas for the rest of the Company to arrive.

After a while Boromir returned carrying Sam. Behind in the narrow but now well-trodden track came Gandalf, leading Bill with Gimli perched among the baggage. Last came Aragorn carrying Frodo. They passed through the lane; but hardly had Frodo touched the ground when with a deep rumble there rolled down a fall of stones and slithering snow. The spray of it half blinded the Company as they crouched against the cliff, and when the air cleared again they saw that the path was blocked behind them.

'Enough, enough!' cried Gimli. 'We are departing as quickly as we may!'

And indeed with that last stroke the malice of the mountain seemed to be expended, as if Caradhras was satisfied that the invaders had been beaten off and would not dare to return. The threat of snow lifted; the clouds began to break and the light grew broader.

As Legolas had reported, they found that the snow became steadily more shallow as they went down, so that even the hobbits could trudge along. Soon they all stood once more on the flat shelf at the head of the steep slope where they had felt the first flakes of snow the night before.

[liillyliilly]

Run Club

suna rintarou x reader words; 4679 synopsis; she's the best runner at inarizaki, he wants to spend more time with her- so the natural conclusion? offering to make a run club with her

It was practically 1,000 degrees outside and Suna was melting in the heat. The rest of the volleyball team was excited to finally be outside for once, the gym was beginning to grow old. Kita, in his ever intelligent wisdom, decided he wanted to do some more intensive cross training. Suna was covering his eyes with his hand, not even hooded eyes could deflect a boiling sun.

And there she was.

“Kita, who is that?” Atsumu got to the jump before Suna did, but Suna listened just a little more carefully to Kita’s words in response to Atsumu’s words.

“That’s L/N. She’s in my class. She’s the track captain, she’s also the one who’s going to help us with cross training today.”

In front of a group of other runners, including guys, was her. She was wearing a black sports bra and quite possibly the shortest shorts Suna had ever seen on a girl. She seemed to be leagues ahead of the other runners, yet she still was yelling at the kids to keep running. Keep pushing forward without thinking about the pain.

Suna thought she was crazy. Beautiful and crazy.

Eventually, she came up to the volleyball team, leaving her team of runners lying on the track practically crying and downing entire water bottles. She messed around on what appeared to be a fitness watch, frowned a little but then tapped around before finally walking over to Kita. Suna was thinking that she was going to kill the volleyball team with the same workout she must have just done with the track team.

Kita gave her a high five, an actual high five, and she mimicked a volleyball spike, laughing at Kita’s eye roll.

“Okay listen up, I’m going to put y’all through some actual training. Not any of this jumping around and diving bullcrap, but actual intensive running to build stamina and power.”

They ran. And then they ran again. They drank a little water, and then they ran again. Eventually even the Miya twins and Aran were sitting down on a grass patch picking strands out of the field and sweating so much that they could’ve produced enough liquid for a hydroelectric dam.

She was just stretching, preparing for one more lap. Kita thanked her for the help, and told the team to head back to the gym so they could go over a few plays. All the boys were leaning on each other and dragging their feet as they meandered back to their hideout. Suna wanted to stay though. So he asked Kita if he would just run one more time, and he could get the plays from Atsumu or Osamu the next day. Kita let him, on the condition that Suna wouldn’t try to outrun L/N.

“I’ve tried, it’s not something I can realistically say is possible for me. But I’m all for a good run, make sure you eat a good dinner when you get back to your dorm.” Kita waved him off and Suna snuck his way over to her.

He leaned his head over her shoulder, inspecting what exactly was on her watch, but she turned around before he could see anything.

“Ever heard of hello?” She poked him in the chest lightly. Suna shrugs. She continues speaking when he doesn’t make a move to leave her be, “This is my long run for today, 8 miles. Think you can stay on my pace? I’m not slowing down for you.”

“I’ll manage.”

So they ran, Suna got winded earlier than he thought, around the third mile. So he had to run slightly behind her, still trying to keep up and not get left behind. She talked to him, easily and without losing much steam. She talked mostly about running, Suna listened. At the end of the fourth mile, she paused.

She said something about stretching for a minute or two and then finishing the run and getting back to Inarizaki. He swallowed the gel tube she had offered him, letting the instant energy soak into his body. She did little hops and jumps, lunges and toe touches, Suna just sat down and tried to reset his energy.

He liked her shoulders, her legs, the way she did her hair, he especially liked the way she sweat. It wasn’t a waterfall like Atsumu and Osamu, it was a sheen on her body. The film of sweat coated her, and it made her shine, her face was flushed from the run, but she was still just smiling. Suna could finally care less about the single sun’s brutality, because she was worth a thousand vibrant suns in his eyes.

Screw Vitamin D, he needed Vitamin Her.

He kept up with her on the way back to Inarizaki, though he suspects that she slowed down slightly so he could keep in time and pace with her. Despite him being taller, and having longer legs, with the way she ran it was clear he was no match for her instinctive athleticism when it came to running.

With the stories she told about her failures in a bunch of other sports, and how she came to running in the first place, Suna was surprised. He hid it well, just nodding and trying to keep his breathing deep and long so that he wouldn’t croak like a fool in front of her. She liked to run because it was the only sport where she didn’t need to be good at anything besides breathing.

Her biology teacher, when she was in first year, said that the only thing needed for life is the ability to cellular respirate. To convert energy from sugars and food into ATP, the chemical reaction utilized breathing. Breathing allows the process to flow. Breathing to facilitate the conversion of sugar to ATP. Or something like that, Suna was getting distracted by the way her arm would occasionally brush his as she strode forward.

Getting back to Inarizaki was disappointing for Suna, he wanted to run with her for longer. Just to be with her for longer. Maybe that’s why he asked if she wanted to be in a run club with him. What he had meant to ask was if she wanted to run with him more often, but a run club comment came out before he caught it.

“Run club sounds like a great idea! It would be perfect for intra-athletic cross training, like volleyball did today at the track. I’ll talk to a few more of the other captains, I can be in charge and if you want, you can be second in command?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” He could not do it.

To call it a running club was a tortuous attempt at trying to tone down the reality of what it was. It was a group of boys who liked to watch her run. She knew that, and Suna knew that. She still beat them in every single race. The basketball captain, the tennis captain, even the swim captain came around and tried to beat her. She reigned on top of Inarkizaki’s holy track field. She was who they came to see. She was the shrine that the foxes would pray at.

The coaches saw her outstanding dedication to helping all the kids at Inarizaki, she won a coaches’ award for Most Dedicated Student Athlete. Suna thought it was extremely well earned for her.

Run club died down, and eventually it was just Suna and L/N again, the other boys got tired of just running all the time. Albeit, the sports teams were objectively just a little bit better that year. Running had shaped the teams into stamina beasts, Inarizaki could outlast any other team for the most part.

Suna had begun asking Kita more and more frequently to do running as an alternative to other conditioning routines. Kita agreed every single time. Suna supposed that Kita knew the real reason why he took breaks from training with the team, it was so he could spend more time with her.

Freaking track kids. Always freaking running around thinking they owned the place. Especially Ito Yuuta, freaking Ito always running with freaking Y/N. Even going as far to be freaking duo partners in all the freaking track competitions.

“If you sulk anymore I think your face will stay like that.” Aran then took a picture of Suna sitting on the bleaches with his shoulders hunched into himself and a disgusting scowl on his face.

“I just don’t know why we, as the volleyball team, have to watch the track competition.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just mad because Ito gets to run with L/N instead of you running with her.” Osamu could suck an egg for all Suna cared.

Atsumu wanted to play a little game with Suna, just to see his reaction. Atsumu was also glad that Kita was with all the other sports captains cheering the runners on.

“I heard from a very reliable source that Ito copped a feel of her thigh before one of the races yesterday, and that he got a kiss from her when he won in his category.” Atsumu told Omimi just loud enough for Suna to hear.

The way Suna spun his head around was almost enough to have Atsumu falling to the ground in delight. Suna stood up and went right down to the field, folding his arms and shifting his weight from side to side.

She came barreling down the track from her race, giving high fives to her friends and hugs to her even closer friends. She had just won another first place prize, which made Suna unbelievably happy, but also he was seething.

Kita had finally caught wind of what was about to occur, and he tried to get down to the track to get Suna away from the track. But one of the adults had stopped him from going down, so Kita and the rest of the team just had to sit back and watch as the horror was about to unfurl.

Ito Yuuta also had just finished his race, giving Y/N a hug and twirling her around, which made her laugh.

Suna snapped.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Ito held up a hand in shock, clearly not understanding what was going on. “Celebrating a win?”

“Bet you’re thinking you’re going to celebrate with more than just a hug.”

She caught on faster than Ito did. She began to tell Suna to get back to the stands.

“So, you’re hiding stuff from me too? Is it because he’s a runner? What does he have that I don’t? I have like four inches on this guy.”

Suna was miserable now, completely distraught. He was only moderately calm when she pulled him away and sat him down on a bench reserved for the track kids.

“Let’s just take a deep breath Rintarou. Look, it's easy.” She inhaled deeply and then let out a breath.

“It’s not fair.” He whined. Suna didn’t think he was capable of whining. He also didn’t think he was capable of being so blindsided by his own jealousy. He dragged his hands down his face and realized he had fallen for bait given to him by Atsumu. He had fallen for a trap set up by a notorious jokester.

Only when Suna saw Ito kissing his boyfriend did Suna really get embarrassed. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just acted like one for a few minutes.” She was rubbing his back and he felt even worse, he had acted like a complete child and there he was getting soothed by the same girl he had wanted to fight for.

“Just forget I said anything, I did anything, just forget I even exist please.”

“But you had at least four inches on that guy?” Suna groaned and ducked his head down even further. “That one was actually kinda funny, Rintarou.” She ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it.

She wanted to get one more kick out of the whole situation, “I think you have some kind of teenage hormonal rage going on, but based on Ito’s reactions, I fully believe you won. So, are you gonna celebrate with more than just a hug?”

“Y/N!”

Atsumu had to do 100 diving laps per Kita’s instruction as punishment for causing an embarrassment out of the volleyball team and for pushing Suna to his mental limits.

Suna always liked to lurk around her, even when she was tired of him. Getting asked how you were doing multiple times a day by the same person could in fact grow slightly old. When he got a hold of her number, he had made her number his personal journal.

Everything from complaints to worries were sent to her. One time, in class, she had her headphones in and was solving some problems. Kita, her seatmate, was getting slightly annoyed by all the buzzing from her phone that he just had to check and see what was going on. Kita did not expect to see twenty messages from Suna. So that's what he was doing on his phone during practice.

She did like having him around though, despite his clingy nature. Sometimes he wouldn’t even talk to her, he just wanted to be where she was. She could be in the library doing some research for a class, and he would ask if he could come and work on homework with her. She would be in her dorm folding clothes and he would be sitting at her desk trying to bask in the smell of her room without seeming like a creep.

They were sitting on the field, and the sun had just gone down. She used a flashlight to keep some light around so they wouldn’t be stuck in the dark. She was reading a book, for fun, which made Suna more intrigued. She had a small booklight, attached to the novel, lighting the pages in yellow. She would ask when it was good for her to flip a page, so Suna could read along. He was a slower reader than she was, he remembered that she shared classes with Kita, so obviously she would be smart.

It was a book about a younger guy meeting an older girl, and he was hopelessly in love. How ironic Suna thought. Fate was truly ironic, it loved to play little games on Suna like this. All the time, any chance it got, attempting to make Suna play along with the games at hand.

A few pages of reading together passed before Suna decided to stick her bookmark back into the book, taking it from her before she could complain. He set it aside, using his arm to push it far enough away so that she couldn’t just grab it back.

Sweat was still on their bodies from the run they had finished. But this was far more heart-rate inducing than any run they had ever gone on.

“I think I like you.” Suna used a hand to hold her face, looking right at her.

“That’s nice.” Suna shoved her shoulder, making her fall on her back as she started laughing and slightly rolling from side to side. Suna scoffed, rolling his eyes and falling onto his own back.

“That was and is going to be my only attempt at romance ever. I hope you know that. You’ve crushed any other chance for me being any sort of cute.” Suna mourned the fatality that had just occurred.

She pressed his shoulders down, and leaned over him. Then, she kissed him and ran.

Suna took chase quite quickly, stumbling a little at the shock, but he was racing for more than just training for volleyball. He had to win this race. Suna knew she let him catch up to her. She was spoon-feeding him all the right chances and opportunities, and he ate it all up.

“I need water.” He was holding her over his shoulder, and he was exhausted after running. He walked to the water cooler by the field bleachers.

“Let me down from here, I belong on the ground.” She kicked her feet a little, but he just clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“You’d be on the ground if you didn’t make my heart sink into my stomach at your response to my confession.”

“I’d really truly not call that a confession. You just said you liked me, which is true for an awful lot of people. I think even Kita-”

He put her back on the ground and covered her mouth with his hand. He raised his eyebrows, just asking her to try that one more time. She raised her hands in surrender.

The rest of the year went by swimmingly (read: runningly). Run club almost every other day, which now featured eating at the dining hall together for the last call meal.

One of his favorite memories from that year was buying running shoes together.

When they went to buy running shoes, it had been a whole day affair. She took her crossbody bag and waited for him at the front of the school gates way too early in the morning. A disastrous nine in the morning meeting time, and on a Saturday too. He was tired only because he had made the unfortunate decision to call Osamu and Atsumu to his dorm that night for both outfit advice and behavior advice.

“I think you should nix the shoe-buying and just make-out the whole day while you’re away from school.” Atsumu ate another chip from the bag that was laying on his stomach, he was lounging on Suna’s bed without a care in the world.

Osamu took the chips and shoved them into the garbage bin. After throwing Atsumu the middle finger, he spoke to Suna, “Just be yourself, you haven’t started calling the pair of you a couple or anything yet, so as far as you know, it’s just a hang-out between friends.”

Suna held up a linen shirt in front of himself, waiting for Osamu’s genuinely constructive assessment. As he did so, Kita walked past the open dorm room and watched as Suna kept switching between the linen shirt and a regular Uniqlo grey shirt.

“She likes boys who wear basic clothes, go with the grey shirt. Linen can be for your first wedding anniversary.” Atsumu howled at Kita’s comment, and Osamu threw a volleyball at Kita through the door, which he caught effortlessly.

The grey shirt was the best decision he made, because their outfits ended up matching. Grey shirts and green cargo pants. She took a photo of them to celebrate a boy actually having fashion taste at their school. She was holding up a peace sign and Suna had his hand on the top of her head.

He didn’t mind that she took her time trying on all the shoes, every new pair she calculated and did little motions in. He just sat on the bench as she kept walking back and forth trying to imagine running in the shoes.

It was either the beige pair or the black and white pair. He was partial to the black and white pair because they looked like his own shoes, both for running and for volleyball. But the beige shoes had an appeal because she looked at them like they were just perfect.

So, he bought her the black and white pair.

They were sitting on the train and he was holding the shoe boxes on his lap, and she was holding her phone in front of the both of them, they were watching a video about volleyball. When he had expressed that his favorite team was EJP Raijin, she picked that as her favorite team too, and they watched all the games together. The video was a highlight reel of some of the best plays done by EJP Raijin.

She was leaning her head on his shoulder, and he thought that this was the best that life could get for him.

The worst was when she and all the third years on his team graduated. He had never been one for goodbyes. Especially since he knew she would still be around the next year going to university in central Hyogo, and she had been talking to her coaches about letting her be an assistant coach for the Inarizaki track and cross country clubs. It was just giving up on his close relationship with her so she could go and do her own thing in college.

Then his birthday rolled around, January 25th. It was cold outside and Suna was throwing his volleyball up into the air as he laid on his back. It had been a year since she had graduated. She visited frequently, but she was always so busy with only doing her job that Suna could only sit aside and pout.

She had never asked him to be her boyfriend, but he supposes that he never asked her to let him be her boyfriend either. He had been in a mood the whole day. He really did just miss being with her. He also missed running. The cold weather had made Atsumu ban everyone from staying outside too long, so no running in the fresh air, only in circles in the gym while Osamu just shouted out things that L/N was probably doing with other boys so Suna wouldn’t stop running from boredom.

Atsumu texted him and told him to come to the track field. So obviously, it had to be some form of a joke. Atsumu never encouraged his players to disobey the rules, especially the ones he made up himself.

Still, Suna put on his heaviest coat and stomped outside.

It was the best birthday present ever.

His favorite person was warming up on the track, stretching out her legs and doing her little hops that drove him crazy. He thinks he never ran faster.

“What are you doing here? Track season doesn’t start for another month?” He held onto her like she would disappear if he let go, playing with her hair and rubbing his freezing nose into her neck.

“It’s your birthday? What kind of friend am I?” She held her hands behind his neck. Somehow her hands were always warm, so the skin on his nape prickled for a second before he realized that he actually wanted her hands all over his exposed face.

“I would hope you’re not a friend at all, especially considering the things I think at night.”

“You murder me in your dreams?”

“You’re so annoying, I could actually just squish you right now.”

“Squish me?” She laughed and he could feel her whole body shake with joy. “And you said you’d never say anything cute ever again.”

They went for a short jog, and Suna realized she had gotten even better at running. They stopped their run at a small convenience store, and she was picking through the hot drink section. Suna just rested his head on his hands that were resting on the length of a shelf, watching her inspect the different cans.

She bought two green teas and threw one to Suna as they sat outside the store, watching the snow begin to fall and make a frosted world the new normal.

“What did you get me as a birthday present?” Suna pushed his knee against hers. Tilting her head, she held up the green tea. “That does not count as my birthday present.”

“Okay, now that I make somewhat grown up money, what is it that my favorite Sunarin wants for his little birthday?” She made an effort to baby talk as corny as she could.

He started at her jaw, pressing small kisses, giving her an out if she wanted, but she just happily sipped her tea. He pushed the can down so he could finally kiss her the way he wanted to all those times he had chickened out.

When he licked her bottom lip, and tried to open her mouth more, she pushed him away, just slightly.

“Woah there buddy.” Suna bit her ear in response, “At least make me your girlfriend geez.”

“Done.”

He just wouldn’t let her break up with him. He committed so hard to that philosophy that she had a ring on her finger to prove it the very next year. It was just the engagement ring he said, he had another one planned for when they would actually get married.

She got even better at running, but her real passions lied in helping others advance their physical skills, which is why Suna got her the athletic trainer position on his team, EJP Raijin. Half so he could see her everyday, and half so that he could get mandated massages from her.

She still made him run though, and he enjoyed it more everyday.

It was a run club, with just the two of them.

8 YEARS LATER...

“Ryohei! Remi! Slow down!” Suna yelled after the twins. She was busy with a new workout for some of his teammates, so he had to take their sons out for a run. He was still trying to teach them how to pace themselves when it came to the longer runs. They were only 6 but they had the energy of firecrackers, at least for the first ten minutes of the run.

He quickly caught up and his kids were both panting and insulting each other.

“I beat you!” Remi put his hands on his hips.

“No way! I touched the tree years before you did!” Ryohei was close to punching the identical copy of himself.

Suna just rubbed his hands on their heads. Turning them around so they could make their way home. On the way back, they stopped at the bookstore so Suna could buy some of the books he remember Y/N had mentioned a few weeks ago. Ryohei was the bookworm out of the two, so he asked for a new book as well. Remi just poked around until he found the video game section and asked if he could get a new game. Suna was weak to resist.

They were dragging their feet and complaining. Suna could feel his eye twitching slightly, before he remembered what was planned for dinner.

“I think mommy’s got udon waiting for us at home.” That put the right amount of pep in their step to get them running again.

Ryohei and Remi were kicking each other under the kotatsu table until Suna pulled them up so they were standing and told them to go get sleep clothes on. Letting Suna kick Y/N instead.

“Stop it.” Suna nudged his knee against her’s. “I mean it, I’ll make you sleep in their room instead of ours.”

Suna shrugged.

“Did you run today?” Suna ate another bite of his food.

“No, I was too busy dealing with your ragamuffins until you got back from practice.” She rested her head on the table, finally enjoying a moment of peace and silence.

“I know just the right workout to make up for missing a run.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Easy there, I can see where our kids get their energy from. Because we both know it’s not me.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know about that, there’s a few times where you really let loose and went stir crazy. I recall multiple times when I was in college, oh and that time in high school when you chewed out a gay man because you believed Atsumu’s lies.”

Suna scoffed, asking her to let that one go, because Ito just had to tell that story at their wedding reception and his mom still called him about it for a good laugh.

When Suna and Y/N heard a crash in the upstairs bathroom, where their kids were supposed to be brushing their teeth, and then complete silence. They looked at each other and just laughed.

Maybe a run club of four was just a little bit better than a run club of just two.

[sp0-t]

Preview of some upcoming stories?!! (sort of rambles)

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

You and Simon used to date, it was a while ago, 5 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days ago to be exact. You never kept count, you wanted to forget everything. It was Simon that kept count, every second, every minute, every hour. He was there keeping track. You moved on, you had a whole new life at this point, new job, new house, new car, even a new partner. You wanted nothing to do with that old life that old place, that old job still haunting you some nights. But that was all behind you, long ago, no reason to dwell on it, you have a new life a new start that not many got. Your old life was behind you forgotten, like a bad dream.

Except this dream came back to haunt you, physically, in the present. In the physical form of Simon “Ghost” Riley. He was the reason you couldn’t sleep at night, the reason you needed a new life in the first place, needed to run away from the past.

Him

HIM

The last person that deserved to come back into your life was here. And he is persistent per usual, no matter what you do, or what you say to him, he was not going to budge he’d stay stolid and still and he’d be that way for the rest of time if he had to.

He’d wait…

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

Gaz and you are two of the biggest names in the modeling world. You can’t talk about it without either name popping up. What makes it even more of popular topic, is the rumor of a certain type of relationship between you two. However these aren’t true they can’t be, at least not yet…

You are in a contract with one of if not the biggest modeling agency in the world, you being their top model, however, you have a very close runner up. They’ve been gaining more and more attraction every year, placing them higher and higher in the rankings. Social media isn’t helping in this case, it’s the very thing that gained them their popularity in the first place. One post about their new male model and the internet goes fucking batshit.

“Who is he?”

“I need him!”

“He’s so fine, omg!”

“The things I would do…”

Well, who is this mystery man, no other than Kyle Garrick. He normally goes by his stage nickname “Gaz”. No one knows where it comes from, but then again no one really cares enough.

However this year both your agency’s are competing for first, both agencies have to put out their best models in a runway show, a panel will then decide who the best is. But then why do people suspect a relationship between the two. A simple cigarette, that was it, a cigarette. Paparazzi can be some nosey individuals, it was after a clothes fitting, both agencies were required to have it done by the same tailor company to remove any bias, and no changes could be made to outfits by this point. It was late out probably 11pm, about to be 12. I guess paparazzi doesn’t sleep, you went out for a cigarette or two. About to light your second you hear the door open behind you.

“Mind if I join you?”

Of course it was him, why wouldn’t it be Gaz

“Do as you please.”

Your voice comes out a bit muffled from the cigarette between your lips. You try and light your cigarette again, you spark the lighter multiple times no flames ever coming to light. You get more and more frustrated the longer it takes to see flames. You bring the thing up to your ear and shake to hear if there’s any liquid, it’s empty. In frustration you throw the lighter against a nearby wall.

“Fucking piece of shit.”

Still muffled from the unlit cigarette you sigh out in frustration and defeat, leaning against the wall behind you. You run your hand through your hair as your about to push off the wall to walk back inside the building, when a flame is placed in front of you.

“Need a light?”

You look up at him a bit confused

“Yeah. Thanks.”

SNAP* SNAP* SNAP* The image of Gaz leaning over slightly cupping the flame to prevent the wind from blowing it out, while you tilt your head a bit up to get your cigarette to reach the flame while Gaz looks down at you. That’s what was going viral, the image, the circulating stories and rumors going around. Both of your names were everywhere, one couldn’t be without the other in the media.

All over a damn cig

💿: I only have two for you today, these are just quick summaries. I’m sorry these are on like “cliff hangers”, I really wanted you guys to make your own assumptions and theories. I do want to start writing an actual full on story for one of the quick ideas I’ve wrote(author!price, PoliceForce!141, and these new ones). I’ll most likely put up a poll for people to vote on which one I’ll write first, so definitely stay around for that if you’re interested!!

(sorry the Simon one is so short but if I added more it would be like double this whole page)

written by: @sp0-t ©️

[bunniandhoney]

Angst | He doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone, fast-forward he sees her back at the premiere

P.s Just for fun , Idk how he is Irl he is a sweetheart tho

Dear Anon,

How did you know I love angst? 😏

xoxo,

Bunni

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Life’s a Marathon

Jacob takes his best friend for granted.

Y/N found herself in the most awkward predicaments. Never by her own design but certainly by the construction of her best friend Jacob.

“I think i might’ve fucked up” Jacob says looking down at Y/N as she ties her shoes. “I think I’m going to have to agree, neither one of us should be running a marathon this early or really at all.” YN replies with a grim look on her face.

She definitely shouldn’t have agreed to this. She hates sweating and gets her daily exercise from the 25 minute walk from her apartment to her office job. But since she has a burning crush on her best friend she has such a hard time telling Jacob no, actually she’s never fully told Jacob no.

Like that time in Year 10 when he’d ask her to help with his final paper. Even though she was behind on hers and working extra shifts at the cafe she still did his, resulting in her earning a C+ on her paper and an A on his. Or when she told him she just wanted a relaxing night in for her 18th, but Jacob insisted on hitting up every pub in the city. She then spent the last moments of her 18th birthday rubbing Jacob’s back as he emptied his guts in the toilet. This is what best friends do though, they sacrifice, they care, and apparently they run marathons with zero training.

Finally on her feet Jacob pulls her in by her shoulders. “ Quick let’s take a selfie to remember this moment”, with wide grins facing his phone Jacob takes the picture.

“Will all runners please make their way to the starting line” the announcer says.

YN is starting to feel sick. “ You know I can always wait for you at the checkpoints and cheer”

“Yeah but where would the fun be in that? Besides you can’t leave me now, we’re at the starting line.” Dragging her feet YN follows an excited Jacob to the starting line with the rest of the runners.

The sound of the gun signals the runners to start, and they’re off…well Jacob is. YN is already at the back of the pack within 60 seconds of the race starting and her best friend is nowhere to be found.

When she finally finishes the first mile, she’s slightly winded but not awful, the second clearly wears her down though because she’s practically walking. Huffing and puffing she tries to pick her pace back up as she sees the finish line. She sees Jacob at the end cheering for her, or at least that’s what she thinks because her vision seems a little blurry and black dots are spotting her vision. Yn is almost there, almost at the end when everything goes dark.

People are laughing at her. YN can hear it as she comes to; wait is that Jacob laughing at her? Blinking her eyes open she does see him laughing but it’s joined by a woman’s laugh, a very pretty woman now that her vision is clearing up.

“Jac—“ the rasp coming from her voice is unrecognizable, but does the trick because Jacob looks down at her.

“You’re awake!” says the pretty lady on her other side.

“I’m Dr. Sams, I was the medic on the scene when you passed out. Can you tell me your name?”

—

Sitting under a cooling tent with ice packs on most of her body and being forced to chug down gatorade is probably top 5 most embarrassing moments especially since the only other person under there is a 65 year old man who threw out his knee, and said he felt too hot under the medic tent. “It’s alright doll, my first race wasn’t sunshine and rainbows either, " he says with a grin.

“Dr. Sams said you’re clear if you’re ready to go. Should probably take you home to rest.” Jacob says helping YN up. The car ride back to her apartment is dead silent besides the loud tension between Jacob’s guilt and YN's embarrassment. When he pulls into her garage Jacob decides to break the ice. “Look i’m really sorry love, you were right the marathon was not a good idea. I’m sure dehydration was not in your weekend plans.”

A sympathetic smile, the same one she always gives when Jacob screws up, graces her face. “It’s not your fault I’m an adult, and should’ve known that I was feeling way too bad to continue.”

Walking up to YN’s apartment Jacob can’t help but to be apologetic still. Laying YN on the couch and getting her a bottle of water from the fridge Jacob, trying to ease any leftover tension yells, "Well at least something good came from today?”

And honestly nothing is coming to YN’s mind, in fact, today was about as horrible as it could get for her.

She was spontaneously woken up at the crack of dawn.

The “Big Suprise” her best friend/crush for her was a damn marathon

She had to run a marathon

And lastly, she passed out in front of hundreds of people including Jacob. Yeah, there couldn’t possibly be anything good.

“The cute medic that was helping you, well we were chatting so I’m taking her out tonight!”

Mentally adding this to the list of horrible things happening today YN groans, “My head is pounding, what did you say?”

“I’ve got a date with a hot doctor babe!” he yells back gleefully.

YM closes her eyes silently hoping that what’s happening is that she’s in a dream and when she wakes up it’ll be noon, she will just now be getting up, and planning to spend the whole day in a big Tshirt (no pants of course). But when she peeks open one of her eyes she sees her best friend walking back with a glass of orange juice and some painkillers. “ Here you go, Dr. Sams said this might help with any aches or fatigue.”

Nope, not a dream, but a terrible nightmare.

Jacob finally heads out, claiming he needs to prepare for his date, leaving YN alone and feeling incredibly achey. In the 15 years she’s known Jacob he has only had a girlfriend twice.

Once in Year 9, Elizabeth Brown, ended up being on the receiving end of Jacob’s turn of a horrid “Spin the Bottle” game. Elizabeth claimed Jacob was the best kisser in the world and deemed him her boyfriend. Which to her point was very true as YN and Jacob had been practicing for years at that point. Jacob beaming with pride accepted the title for approximately 17 days before he claimed she was way too clingy and broke it off.

The next was years later in university when he dated Sasha Davies for TWO whole years. YN just knew she’d lost him. But Sasha was quite rude and incredibly judgey, so when she found out that Jacob passed up a regular job for acting, she dumped him, leaving YN to pick up the pieces. Since then Jacob had sworn off dating until he was settled in his career as a full time actor, claiming that YN and his mum were the only women he needed in his life.

So why on earth are things changing now! She thought she was all he needed, even if nothing went further than friendship. YN is not near spiteful enough to ruin a relationship, so for now she’ll just sit back and see if anything comes of this one date.

—

Unfortunately, everything comes from one date, because it turns into two and three. Then eventually Yvanne (Dr. Sams) and Jacob are practicing living together in a matter of months. It’s not that Jacob ignores YN, no, he tries to include her in almost everything the couple does. He even tries to do a weekly coffee date with YN just to check in on her, but YN can’t do it. She can’t watch him kiss and hug another woman, buy her odd but sentimental gifts, or even open the bloody car door for someone else. She can’t watch him be in love with anyone else while her heart still craves him.

So she pulls away, just slightly so he doesn’t notice. Her plan is working beautifully since Jacob is enamored with Yvanne. It simply looks as if she wants him to spend more time with his girlfriend. Well, it was working beautifully until Jacob drops an absolute bomb on her during one of their coffee dates.

“You’re going to do what!?!?! “ she screeches in the corner booth, causing too many eyes to look their way.

“Woah calm down. Look I’m going off to shoot the movie and want Yvanne to know I’m serious; that I’m in this for the long haul, for forever.”

“I think there are other ways to show you’re serious than marrying her. For fucks sake J you all haven’t been together a whole year yet!” YN fumes.

“It’ll be a longish engagement, and honestly I thought you’d be happier for me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I haven’t even told my mum this yet.” He replies diffendently.

Now YN sees it, she sees him slipping away. It’s clear that as always, Jacob has made up his mind and in turn has decided both of their fates for them.

“You’re right, it just caught me by suprise. I’m so happy for you”

“Really”

“Of course, J, you know I just want you to be happy, you’re my best friend.” YN rewards him with a suffering smile.

For three weeks after the news YN goes completely ghost. Every call and text Jacob attempts to make goes unanswered, but she can’t do it. She can’t watch this happen or pretend to be okay, even when she thought she could. Jacob stops by her apartment at the end of week three to check on her since she’d clearly been avoiding him. But when he reaches under the ficus pot outside her apartment door he realizes it’s gone. YN had taken the key and moved it. This officially sends Jacob into a rage because that key was reserved for him, now he’s banging on her door yelling for her to “Let me in because I know you’re in there!”

A puffy-eyed YN opens the door just as Jacob raises his fist again. She’s been crying, she can’t stop, not since the day she left that cafe. “Hey J, what’s going on?”

“You’ve been ignoring me!” he says stepping into her apartment, which is shockingly a mess. She’s always been a bit of a neat freak, cleaning up everyone’s mess all the time. “You’ve been ignoring me, and you’ve been crying.”

“Oh. I’m fin—“

“Please don’t do that shit with me. The pretending, because I know you better than anyone in this world so come off it!”

For some reason this pisses YN off to a degree she’s never known before.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Jacob Scipio! How dare you come banging on MY door expecting anything from me, you, you selfish bastard!”

Eyebrows raised in shock Jacob uses his silence as a reply.

With tears starting to roll down her face YN cries, “ I have spent years following behind you, trying to make sure nothing ever inconveniences you. Making sure that Jacob is happy, that he’s in perfect health, that he’s got his lines down packed, and not because I wanted something in return but because I cared for you. Hell, I loved you Jacob. Then you expect me to jump for joy when you want to propose to a girl you’ve known for 9 months! So, no Jacob, you don’t know me!”

“YN, I’m so—“

“Please don’t apologize, just leave, I want to be alone.”

His head hung low Jacob turns to walk back out of her apartment. “Umm, I wanted to give you this. I hope you can make it.” he says sitting an envelope on her coffee table. When Jacob walks out that door YN expects to never see her best friend again and she crumbles to the floor letting the tears wrack through her body.

1 ½ year later —

Jacob would like to say that he couldn’t be happier. At the premier of one of the biggest movies of his life, he should be overjoyed. And don’t get him wrong, he's extremely happy and grateful. He’s a trending topic, he has his amazing cast mates, and his extremely supportive family here with him. But the one person he’s hoped to see is nowhere to be found.

When he’d left that save the date on her coffee table a year and a half ago he knew that wouldn’t solve whatever issues they had, so he had his mother send her an official invitation through the mail three months ago. Even though YN wanted nothing to do with Jacob, their lives couldn’t help but to be intertwined, they’d known each other for over half their lives.

This separation had been hell for him, as he knew it would be as soon as he left her apartment that day. He cut things off with Yvanne two days later, unable to proceed with the engagement. He spent the rest of the time thinking about how right YN was, he was a selfish bastard. Almost her whole life has been spent accommodating him and so he vowed that if he ever got the chance he would do right by his best friend.

But he couldn’t do that because for the past 550 days he hasn’t so much as heard her voice let alone seen her, and while he hopes she would show up tonight for his premiere, he also knows that it’s a long shot; a consequence of hurting the people who love you.

Jacob takes one last look as he walks into the already packed theater. Sitting next to his mom Jacob relaxes into his seat and just before the lights go down he hears a breathless “Sorry I’m late, this LA traffic is awful!”

There she is, on day 551, the only person he cared to see, his very reason for being and she sits next to him filling his lungs with fresh air and her jasmine scented perfume. “You came.”

“Well of course, I couldn’t miss you on the big screen. Plus both of our mothers threatened me.” YN says with a bright smile.

She’s different, they both are, and they can only hope that fate hasn’t given up on them yet.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

thanks again for letting me write this for you, i had so much fun!

IDK, I’m kinda feeling a part 2 in my spirit, so lmk if that something y’all would be interested in!

also thanks for all the love on my other posts, i’m still taking requests so let them free!!!

[piccolos-bigtoe]

HEY IF YOU STILL TAKE REQUESTS,,

Scout driving Sniper's Van

Haiiiiii yeas I still do take reqs :33 if they interest me enough anyways!!! I couldn't get this one off my mind <3 so thank you for requesting this pisslord. I never draw vehicles tho lol so it was a challenge!!! Drew this sorta quick to wind down from school work They're listening to Jane Child's Don't Wanna Fall in love song.... Headcanons/writings below... Sorrey for cringe, is posting writings cringe or is it in now? Obvi just a quick thang and unedited

...

Sniper is an extreme lightweight. It doesn't take much for him to get buzzed, one or two pale ales do him in easily. Being an honorary old man at the ripe age of 26 (or was it 27? 28? He forgets) he just falls asleep wherever he can manage. This being the case, he avoids drinking when he goes out (which is rare on its own) and sticks to doing it by himself in his camper. It wasn't until a while after he and Scout became friends that he drank in any company.

Scout had one day mentioned off-handedly that he never really learned how to drive. Growing up with a handful of brothers and in a poorer part of Boston, as the youngest of them a car wasn't going to be given to him anytime soon. It felt odd to Sniper that something so integral to his being, the ability to freely travel whenever wherever, was something that the runner had never really experienced.

"I'll teach ya." Though of course the only car he had to teach in was his precious camper that has been with him through thick and thin, he didn't have to give much thought to the offer. Scout was smarter than people gave him credit for, he couldn't mess it up too much. And a more dramatic part of him felt bad that someone as free-spirited and independent as Scout didn't have (what Sniper considered anyways) a basic necessity to freedom.

"Aw for real man? Hell Snipes you barely even let people look at the friggen' van, you sure about this?"

"yep. I'll let you take a crack at it, sure."

And so Sniper taught Scout how to drive, and he took to it fairly quickly. Though the runner doesn't have his license, he is 'Sniper Approved. The few times he's gotten pulled over, he pulls out his approval badge and they let him go (he pulls out his bat and smacks their shit up).

And this leads into Scout being Snipers designated driver. Since Sniper has someone he trusts enough to drive the van, he's safe to drink whenever they all go out. Scout is not the biggest fan of drinking himself ('what's the point of drinking sumn' nasty just to get all sick n' dizzy?'), plus being sober means he has an advantage in pool and any card games.

Whenever Sniper asks for him to drive them back he typically goes "ah fine whateva! I'll drive, AGAIN." It means more to him than he lets on that Sniper trusts him enough to have broken his unspoken never drinking out rule and let him drive his camper. Though that's not something he would ever openly admit.

The same way Sniper would never admit that half the time he doesn't drink enough to get tired. He just pretends to sleep so he can sneak looks at Scout as the scenery of the New Mexico night passes by the window.

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Fighting, Aemond being an asshole, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, spanking, daddy kink.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Okay so, two things. I should preface this by telling you all that Harold Holt was an Australian Prime Minister who went swimming and never came back. It was assumed he drowned, or got eaten by sharks, or if you want to go with the more fun conspiracy theories, got abducted in a submarine. But to do a Harold Holt is basically to do a runner, no show, disappearance with no word, smoke bomb, etc. Hope you get it now lol. Secondly, the song Aemond is listening to is from one of my longtime fav bands who I got to see live! The song is ‘Kletka - Molchat Doma’ and its such a vibe, anyway, thanks for your patience on the update! Its a long ass chapter because I don't know how to stop.... Enjoy <3

Chapter 6: Lapse in Judgement

Waking up the next morning was something that you had dreaded the moment you ran and hid in your room, diving beneath your sheets as your heart raced and your core throbbed.

Your fingers had grazed your lips, sensitive from the bruising kiss he had pulled you into.

Fuck.

You had kissed Aemond. 

And Aemond had kissed you.

You had felt the phantom feeling of his fingers on your core and had tossed and turned all night, desperately trying to ignore the heartbeat that settled between your thighs and the mounting anxiety that followed. 

What would Helaena say?

When you woke that morning, the turning of your stomach began almost immediately, anxiety winding its way higher and higher, palms sweating, knowing that you would have to face the music and exit your room. 

A small headache had formed behind your eyes from the alcohol, but it was barely noticeable in comparison to your racing thoughts. Or perhaps the cause for your headache was the conundrum you now found yourself in.

Note to self, no more Porn Star Martinis if a handsome and brooding man was in your apartment.

You dressed, and ran to the bathroom, noticing Aemond’s door was open. 

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, there were bags beneath your eyes, and your hair a mess from tossing and turning all night. You paid careful attention to concealing the dark shadows and fixing your hair before you took a steady breath and exited the loo. 

You expected Aemond to be gone for his morning run as he usually was, as the creature of habit he seemed to be, door open and all that, but nope, fate had other plans for you. Aemond stood, in his over six foot glory in the kitchen, mug in his hands as he looked out the window. He was dressed in his running gear, grey shirt today and his hair was down, cascading over his shoulders, strands tucked neatly behind his ears. 

On your approach, he lifted his head to look at you. 

You swallowed dryly, feet stumbling slightly against the floor boards as you made your way over, heat rising in your cheeks. You were mortified, and beyond that, ashamed.

Ashamed of who it was.

Ashamed of how you had acted.

Ashamed that it was Helaena’s brother.

And ashamed that you had liked it.

You had to tear your face away from his gaze, diverting your eyes to the floor as you made your way over, picking up the kettle to make yourself your morning tea. You didn’t greet him verbally, too unsure of what to do, and so you gave him a soft nod.

A sliding sound caught your attention. 

You took your eyes from the sink, and beside you on the bench, Aemond had pushed with two knuckles a mug of tea towards you.

It was your favourite mug, and it looked like he had managed to make it perfectly. 

You blinked up at him, putting the kettle back in its holder and reaching for the tea. Your fingers grazed over his momentarily, heart racing as you took the mug from him. Warmth spread through your chest and you swallowed. 

“I’m sorry.” You breathed, picking up the mug to your lips, “I, uh,” You let out an awkward chuckle, “I think I had one too many martini’s last night.” Another awkward laugh, and then the words didn’t stop, Oh god, “Sara took me to this new bar, and it was so cool, it actually reminded me a bit of you. We had one drink aft-“

“-Don’t worry about it.” Aemond interrupted your anxious rambling, his cool gaze on you, face blank.

You nodded and sipped at the tea.

Your heart raced in your chest.

It was perfect.

“Thanks for the tea. And for dealing with me last night.” Another awkward laugh, you lifted the mug towards him.

Aemond hummed, looking away to sip at his coffee, the strong smell of the beans surrounding you. 

You stood together in the quiet of the kitchen, awkward energy surrounding the both of you before he set down his empty mug. He stepped closer, his chest almost bushing yours. Your breath caught in your throat as his hand reached forward.

And then over you to turn on the sink, a small ‘excuse me’ falling from his lips as he rinsed his mug and placed it into the dishwasher. 

Your cheeks felt hot and you sucked in a shaky breath. 

Aemond didn’t speak another word, and turned away from you, heading towards the front door as he pulled out his AirPods and placed them in his ears. He disappeared down the hall, and the last thing you heard was the keys being pulled out of the dish, and the door opening and closing.

You let the breath you had been holding in out in one big gust. Hand moving to rub at your neck awkwardly. 

What the fuck was that?

-

The day droned on as it would with Larys hovering over your shoulder as usual. It didn’t help that you had not heard a word from Gwayne Hightower, and were swamped with endless calls from investors and clients whom he had meetings with and didn’t show.

“Do you know where Gwayne is?” You leant over your desk, looking to the one next to yours, a solicitor names Jasper Wylde watching at you with steely eyes. 

His curly hair shifted as he turned to face you, dark beard trimmed perfectly against his chin, “No clue. He may be at the magistrates office. Got a text from Tyland this morning saying that something went down at the case this morning.”

You sighed loudly, leaning back in your chair, “That’s the last thing we need. How come Tyland texted you and not me? I’ve got calls coming out of my ass from angry and disgruntled clients about Gwayne missing their meetings.”

Jasper shrugged, “You know what Tyland is like, useless at the best of times.”

You snorted and rolled back to your desk.

Jasper was nice, stiff, but nice.

He took his job very seriously, and Tyland Lannister often called him Ironrod as a joke. Though he was older and a complete professional, it didn’t stop him from sending an occasional flirty glance your way, or rise of his dark brows.

Recently divorced.

You knew he had had four wives, all ending in divorce, and multiple kids with each one. You didn’t know how he had the time to support them all, let alone spend time with them. But he did, and you had been surprised when you first started and saw the pictures pinned to his cubicle of all his kids. 

There was, at the very least, ten. 

Ironrod might be more fitting for something else. 

By the time the day ended, you had slumped in your chair, sighing loudly as you packed away your things. You turned to look at Jasper who was still working.

He never followed the clock ‘off at five’ rule you had, and would often stay behind to get everything perfect. 

A real stickler for law.

You walked to the train station and jumped on the next one that rolled slowly into the subway. On your way home, your anxiety flared again. You hadn’t even answered Helaena’s texts asking about how you were and how Aemond was. Each time your fingers hovered over the notification a wave of guilt would crash over you.

You didn’t even know how to respond to it. What could you say? ‘Everything is great! It’s super awkward, but so fine. By the way, did I mention that I almost let your brother take me against the kitchen bench? Haha, anyway, how are you?’

You shuddered at even the thought of telling her yet.

Stopping at the grocery store, you decided to pick up some things you knew you were running low on, as well as grabbing the ingredients you needed to make dinner with for the night.

What you hadn’t expected when you arrived home, was the smell of cooking food filling the apartment and the sound of sizzling vegetables coming from the stove, ‘Kletka - Molchat Doma’ streaming out of your speaker. You chucked your keys in the dish atop Aemond’s and kicked off your shoes, shuffling to the kitchen.

He stood facing the stove, hair pulled back in a low and messy bun, shorter strands tucked behind his ears.

The tall man had changed out of his running gear, and was in a black t-shirt and some black dickies cuffed at the bottom, large black Doc Martins tied tightly on his feet. 

You watched as his shoulders spread, muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he cooked, the smell of spices filling the kitchen and lounge room.

It smelt so good that your mouth watered.

Aemond effortlessly flipped food in a pan, arm tight and tensed, veins visible on his pale skin as he worked. It was almost enchanting watching him cook, and your stomach did a flip as you gazed, warmth spreading into your gut.

“You going to stand and watch the whole time?”

You tensed, and sheepishly cleared your throat, “What are you cooking?” You walked over to stand next to him, his eye slipping to you from the corner of his eye as he continued to flip and stir the food.

“Dinner.”

You snorted, “I can see that.” You turned away and began to put your groceries and things away, opening the fridge to see that it was already full.

Aemond had gone grocery shopping.

“Do you eat meat?” He asked, chucking in some before you answered.

“Yea, I do.”

He hummed, flicking a finger out to turn the speaker down slightly so he could hear you better. He reached above him and pulled down two bowls, stirring the dinner again in the saucepan before he flicked it over into the two bowls.

He spun and gave you one, turning the speaker off.

Aemond made you dinner.

“Oh, thanks.” You uttered, taking the bowl from his hands before digging into the cutlery draw to pull out two forks.

Aemond hummed again, grabbing a fork from your hand as he turned the stove off and grabbed his own bowl, moving to the couch to eat. You followed after him, still in your work clothes and sat on the opposite end of the couch, feeling static energy between you both. 

He flicked on the tv and began eating, dropping his phone on the table face down. You followed and began eating, watching some show about dragons and royalty. 

The dinner was amazing. 

You even groaned audibly as you ate. 

Aemond was a good cook.

“This is amazing.” You complimented him, shoving another forkful into your mouth, flavour exploding on your tongue.

Aemond hummed in acknowledgement.

“Who taught you to cook like this?”

“Helaena.” He smiled.

“Of course she did.” You chuckled, feeling the tension between you begin to dissolve. 

This was fine. 

You could pretend nothing happened.

He totally didn't have you pressed against the kitchen bench with his finger on your cunt last night.

“How was work?” He turned his head to you, eye concentrated on your face, watching your reaction.

You groaned, “Shit. Gwayne did a Harold Holt and left me to clean up the mess.”

Aemond’s brows frowned, “Harold Holt?”

You flicked your hand in dismissal, “Australian Prime Minister. Anyway, absolute nightmare of a day, so thanks for dinner. I was thinking after I got groceries I would just come home and make some noodles.”

Aemond smirked, and your stomach fluttered at the sight, “I got groceries too.”

You smirked back, “I saw that. Thanks by the way. Great minds do think alike.”

The coffee table buzzed from Aemond’s phone, once, twice, three times in succession. You watched as a long arm reached out to press the silence button, dropping it back onto the table with a huff. 

You polished off your dinner, watching the show together.

“Why doesn’t she just take her dragons to the castle and kill everyone?” You watched the silver haired woman on the screen and couldn’t help but think of the man beside you.

“That would mean she kills innocents and proves a point to her enemies that she is cruel like her father.” Aemond mused. 

His phone buzzed again.

“But she’s proven that she’s not. If anything, she’s shown restraint and empathy.” You argued, before a large smirk wound on your face, “Now that I look at her, you guys look similar. You’re more brooding though.”

“Brooding again.” Aemond huffed a laugh and you followed.

“Brooding and a chef. You won’t get any complaints from me.” You paused tilting your head and nodded to the screen, “If I was her I’d just kill everyone.”

“Spoken like a true tyrant.” 

“Tyrant of this apartment, and this apartment only. Maybe my office cubicle if my boss is being particularly slimy.”

Aemond hummed, “Larys giving you a hard time?”

You grimaced, “When does he not? I don’t know what your mum sees in him.” Aemond nodded in agreement, “At least I don’t work under Tyland Lannister, he would be a nightmare not even I could survive.” 

The thought of working under your ex’s brother made your skin crawl, you didn’t even want to think about it.

The table vibrated again, and then again. Aemond snatched up his phone, pale brows frowning as he looked at the screen. His lips twitched and you watched any inkling of the good mood he had been in disappear.

He threw his phone down on the table with more force than needed, the sound causing you to flinch.

“Who’s that? Don’t tell me Aegon’s stuck in some sorority bathroom again.” You tried to lighten the mood, teasing tone in your voice. 

Aemond’s cheek twitched and you watched as his hands flexed, “No one.” His voice came out almost like a growl.

You felt a pang of concern for him, “Are you ok?”

Aemond stood abruptly, grabbing his bowl and shoving his phone into his pocket roughly, “Drop it.”

You blinked up at him as he snatched your finished bowl and made his way to the kitchen. 

-

Over the next two days Aemond avoided you completely, leaving early and coming home late, opting to either eat outside of the house or in his room. His avoidance of the apartment came at a great relief as well as a disappointment.

You were back to square one, and you had a sneaking suspicion that his mood came from either his ex or news of his father. 

You had finally replied back to Helaena, shooting her an apology and then calling her after to tell her about work and see how she was doing. She sounded a bit shorter than usual, but she told you that being back with the family had been tense, and that her dad was not doing great.

You wished you could console her, hold her and let her cry, but you were stuck in the house with her brother and unable to go to her with the pile of work that was mounting on your desk. 

When she had asked about Aemond, your heart had raced in your chest, anxiety peaking as you lied and told her that he was nice enough but rarely home. You didn’t tell her about your kiss in the kitchen, or how his hand had gone up your dress, and guilt ate away at you because of this. 

You told yourself you would tell her, but not now. Not with everything else going on in her life. You couldn’t add another pile of flaming shit to the stress she was going through.

You would reap the consequences later.

After the third day had passed of Aemond avoidance of you, you found him in the kitchen that morning where you had found him on Monday, leant against the bench, coffee in hand, and a steaming mug of tea beside him. 

An apology. 

Or at least, one in his opinion.

He greeted you with a soft and rumbling ‘morning’ before he left to go on his run, leaving you with the tea. You stood leant against the bench and drank the brew that was perfectly steeped to your liking. 

Helaena must have told him how you liked it, or maybe he taken a good guess. Either way, you were gladdened for his shite apology and drank it happily.

You went to work and made sure to politely chew Gwayne out with multiple ‘per my last email’s and flooded him with rebooked meetings that were back to back for him to chase up on. He had come to your desk, leaning against it as he watched you and explained the reason for his absence, all the while Jasper pretended to not be listening in.

Gwayne often tried to ‘connect’ with you on a more personal level, but he annoyed you more than anything. He had this air around him that screamed ‘Trad Wife Fantasy’ and you were definitely not one to entertain that. Misogyny seemed to be ripe in the Hightower circles.

When you had got home that evening, Aemond was not, and so you began to heat up leftovers from the night before.

The apartment had felt cold despite the warmth outside, and you realised that the aircon had been left on for likely the whole day. You turned it off, making a note to check it before you leave in the mornings, chucking on an oversized jumper before sitting down to eat. 

You flicked on the tv to put a show on and zone out, needing to let your brain turn to mush after the long day, before finishing your meal and putting your dishes in the washer. You were curled up amongst the pillows with your jumper sleeves tucked over your hands when you heard keys be pushed into the door. 

Aemond entered the apartment, long silver hair shifting against his back as he sauntered in. His eye dropped to you on the couch and gave you a small nod. You nodded back, greeting him with a small ‘hey’ before going back to watching the television.

Aemond moved about the kitchen to make himself dinner and you scrolled through your phone, wondering if you should reply to Cregan’s text asking if you wanted to go out drinking with him and the boys that weekend.

The couch dipped beside you, Aemond having sat in the centre of the couch, thigh brushing against yours.

“What’re you watching?” He asked, face turned to the tv. 

You turned to look at Aemond’s, who’s attention was locked on the screen.

Everything about him was so severe. The way he spoke, the way he moved, the music he listened to, all way to how he interacted with others, and his features reflected it. His nose was long and sharp, and it matched his chin and jaw, his scar slicing through his eye to his cheek. 

But his lips were different. They weren’t sharp like the rest of him, they were soft. So soft, and the way he had held you in the kitchen was softer than you had expected he would have been. 

You had expected him to grip your neck roughly, whisper in your ear obscenities, shove you backwards into the shelves, and bend you over the bench to wrench your dress over your ass, and d-

His face turned to you as he asked you again, and you swallowed feeling heat rise in your cheeks, “Some show about a zombie apocalypse.” You answered.

Was it hot in here?

Why was it so hot all of a sudden?

Aemond hummed, lifting a long leg to cross over a knee, his thigh hovering above yours, as warmth from his body spread up through you, travelling straight to your gut. 

He smelt good. 

Spicy and dark, with a hint of cigarette hanging in the undertones.

Feeling suddenly warm, you gripped the underside of your jumper and lifted, pulling it up and over your head. Cool air met your stomach and chest, and you snapped a hand down to pull the shirt that had gotten caught in your jumper back over your skin. 

Shit.

One arm after the other, you took the jumper off in a flustered set of movements, chucking it onto the arm of the couch as you tried to hide the blush of your cheeks. 

Ok.

He hadn’t said anything.

Clearly he hadn’t seen otherwise he would have said something. It was Aemond, he would have been snarky and sarcastic or chastising. It’s fine. So fine. Totally fine. Not as if you didn’t just flash him. Not at all.

Everything was fine.

You sat for a moment, adjusting yourself against the couch cushions, suddenly not being able to get comfortable, feeling a shyness spread through your chest. You breathed shallowly. A peak couldn’t hurt. You let your head turn slightly to look at Aemond. 

His jaw was clenched, hand against his knee in a tight fist, small blush on his cheeks.

The couch vibrated and Aemond stiffened, this time not reaching to look at his phone. 

Okay. 

Maybe he had seen. 

Fuck.

You stood awkwardly, grabbing the discarded jumper. Aemond looked up, watching you, chest rising and falling slowly beneath his shirt.

“Gonna have a shower,” You blurted, watching his silver lashes blink up at you, “Unless you want first dibs?” 

Aemond shook his head and you moved away, walking straight to the bathroom. 

Your stomach was full of butterflies as you made your way to the bathroom, stripping quickly to turn on the shower and let the water run cold, trying to cool the rising heat inside of you.

You spent ample time in there, goosebumps erupting on your skin as you attempted to ignore the way the man in your lounge room stoked a fire within you.

But no matter how hard you tried, it didn’t work.

You turned off the shower and stepped out, looking over at the towel rack to grab your towel to dry yourself.

Nothing.

Fuck.

On the back of the door was Helaena’s lilac silk robe, something she always wore when you would do a girls night in, face masks and hair care, and painted nails with your favourite movie, always Pride and Prejudice (2005 version), and a bottle of red. You grabbed the robe off the rack and threw it over your body, the silk clinging to your wet skin.

You swung the door open to run to the linen closet and grab yourself a new towel, running straight into a warm and broad chest. Hands steadied your shoulders as you stumbled backwards, eyes snapping up to meet Aemond’s gaze.

His fingers were tight around your arms, clenched into your flesh as he looked down at you. You swallowed, breathing heavily as your heart raced, the air between you charged.

“You can let go of me now.” You breathed, still in his grip as he looked at you. 

His gaze darkened as his eye roamed down your body, and you felt heat brushing against your skin from it. Aemond’s gaze dropped further down still, hovering over your chest as he breathed heavily.

His fingers twitched and then skated down your arms to his side, raising goosebumps along your skin. He took a step back as you moved around him to open the linen cupboard, pulling down a towel. 

From behind you could still feel his eye roaming over you, warmth sliding down your spine and into your gut. You gave him a small and shy smile before you stepped back into the bathroom, towel held against your chest. 

Why was he staring at you like that?

You turned in the bathroom and caught your reflection in the mirror, you could now see why. 

The thin lilac silk had stuck to your wet skin, becoming almost sheer, patches of the wet robe clinging to your curves, whilst the rest was dry and soft. The dark of your nipples were revealed against the soft material, and the curve of your breast was visible.

You blushed deeply, taking off the robe to hang it back the door to dry as you towelled yourself down, dressing into some comfortable pyjamas to get ready for bed.

Anxiety nipped at you again.

Gods.

Had you just flashed him twice in one day?

What was he going to think of you?

He probably thought you were doing it on purpose. 

Deciding to go back out to the lounge room and swallow the embarrassment that sat heavily in the back of your throat, you trudged quietly into the room, Aemond sitting stiffly on the couch as he continued to watch the show that was still playing on the screen. 

When you sat beside him, his head had turned slightly to look at you, eye taking in your now clothed form, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You tucked your legs beneath you and began to watch it, still feeling his gaze solely on you, and no longer paying attention to whatever was on the screen.

“Did anyone die?” You asked, not daring to turn your head to fully face him, knowing that you would lose all composure once you did.

“Don’t think so.” Aemond’s voice was low and gravelly and it made you shift on the cushion.

You made an awkward sound in the back of your throat, an attempt at a laugh, but it came out more like a whine, “That’s good then, I don’t want to miss anything important.”

Aemond huffed, “You could have paused it.”

His shift in demeanour caught you off guard, “But you were watching it.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Then how do you know if anyone died?”

“I don’t.”

You turned your face to look at him annoyed, “Then why say no-one died?”

Aemond lifted a brow at you, lips beginning to pull down, “I didn’t say that at all. I said I didn’t think so.”

“That implies you were paying attention.” You argued, feeling annoyed at his snarky attitude again.

Aemond dragged an irritated hand through his hair, “I don’t care about your stupid fucking show. If you didn’t want to miss something, then maybe you should have been smart and paused it.” 

Your head reared back as you looked at him, his mood rapidly having soured, “What the fuck is your problem?”

The man let out a hollow laugh, “Fuck off.”

His phone vibrated in the couch cushions.

“No seriously dude. What is your deal? You’ve been on my dick ever since you moved in. I’m doing you a favour here.”

Anger flashed across the Targaryens face, his brows pulling down into a sneer as his scar crinkled across his cheek, “You think you’re doing me a favour?”

You were wrong, his lips could be sharp.

Buzz.

You turned on the couch to face him, “You’re the one who needed change. Who needed to leave Harrenhal and come back here. You took Helaena’s room so you could get settled and start fresh.”

“You don’t know anything about what I need.”

Buzz.

“You need to check your phone for a start, because whoever is messaging you is clearly desperate to get in touch. Maybe it’s Alys.”

The air in the room dropped, and Aemond’s face became stoney, as though he had pushed away all emotions to the back of his mind with cool practice. The way his posture had even changed looked as though he was on guard, ready to fight. 

Regret flooded you as you looked at him.

You felt immediately terrible, having crossed a line that should never had been crossed. You knew his break up with Alys was bad, and their relationship was not great, and you had just rubbed that in his face. 

“That was uncalled for, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” You apologised quietly, watching as his chest rose and fell jaggedly.

Aemond’s jaw was tensed, lips pursed together in a hard line as his eye narrowed on you, “Do you want to know what my problem is?” He leant forward, voice barely higher than a whisper. 

You swallowed.

“My problem is that I live with someone who parades herself half naked around the apartment, and brings home men to fuck her loudly, all night, like a tart.”

You blanched, anger rising up your throat, “A tart? Wow.” Your voice dropped, “That's low. Even for you, Aemond.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough.” You sneered, standing from the couch to look down at him, “You have this ‘woe is me’ performance down to a T, when in reality you were born into a family of old money, not having to work a single day in your life, yet you still act as though you are downtrodden. You’re a spoilt, narcissistic asshole who looks down his purebred nose at people. You have more in common with Jason Lannister than you’d like to think.” You spun on your heel, anger bursting inside of you as you moved to storm away from the lounge room and into your bedroom. 

Aemond’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist tightly as he began to stand, “Is that what you really think?”

“It’s what I know. You’ve so far treated me as lesser than the dirt on the bottom of your shoe. You’ve got some serious social deficiencies, Aemond. Did Daddy not hug you enough as a child?” You mocked, striking him where you knew it would hurt the most. 

Fuck him.

Fuck being nice.

Arrogant, rich, prick.

Aemond straightened to his full height above you, looking down as he silently seethed. The air around you was charged, and the tension continued to mount as he watched you, eye locked on yours.

“Careful, bunny.”

“Stop fucking calling me that.”

“Why?” His voice dropped, “It’s what you like, isn’t it? Being called bunny, being treated rough. I could bend you over this couch right now and I bet you’d be soaked.”

Your eyes widened, breath stilling in your chest.

Aemond took another step forward, dropping your wrist, “I’m right aren’t I? You act out like this because you want to be put in your place. You want to be a brat so daddy will fuck you, don’t you?”

A chill ran down your spine as he loomed above you, “Don’t you?”

You swallowed thickly, eyes narrowing, “Fuck you.”

Aemond chuckled, “I bet you’d love that.” His hand moved swiftly, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, tingles rippling down your neck.

His hand kept going, brushing through your hair softly, before he gripped a large chunk harshly at the nape of your neck. 

A shocked gasp fell from your lips.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

Defiant until the end.

“No?” His brows raised, “Then if I check, you wouldn’t be dripping right now, would you?”

You raised your head in false bravado, a blush creeping across your skin, standing as impossibly still as you could. Challenging him.

Aemond hummed, spinning you around by the grip on your hair, swiftly bending you over the arm of the couch. A cry fell from your lips as your hips and stomach collided with the edge, hands gripping the side to catch yourself.

Your heart was beating against your ribs as you shifted in anticipation, the heat of Aemond’s body loomed behind you as he bent over you, lips coming to beside your ear.

“Now, if I check, and you are wet, you’re in trouble.” He purred.

You squirmed, his hand tugging on your tendrils sending pleasure down your spine and straight to your core. He chuckled, and you whined again, feeling one of his large palms skate down your side agonisingly slow before he reached your pyjama bottoms. 

Aemond’s long fingers dipped beneath the elastic and paused for a moment, as though he was giving you a second to say no. But you said nothing, eyes focused on the cushion in front of you as he tugged the shorts down in one swift yank.

Aemond tutted behind you, dragging one long finger to swipe through your folds. Your back arched as you whined, teasing pleasure rippling up through you.

You could feel how wet you were, and your thighs rubbed together in anticipation of what was to come. 

He clicked his tongue at you, “You’re soaked.” Aemond’s hand left your core and you turned your head to look at him, watching as he brought the slick finger up to his lips to suck. 

Your lips parted as your watched, his eye sliding shut as he licked his finger clean, humming. 

“So sweet.” He cooed, “But I was right.” His voice lowered, and he loomed back over you, looking into your eye as his face hardened, “You’ve been such a brat tonight.”

You shook your head, tilting your hips back towards him, biting your lip as you looked at him. A smirk wound on his face as he watched you, hand moving back between your thighs where they instantly found your bud. 

He pressed into it meanly, and a sharp cry fell from your lips.

“Shut up.” He hissed, diving two long fingers into your core with no warning. 

Your eyes clenched shut as he immediately began to fuck his digits in and out of you, delicious stretch blooming within as the lewd sound of your wetness was all to be heard over your shallow breaths. 

Aemond stayed bent over you, watching your face contort with pleasure as you tried to keep your moans inside, biting your lip roughly. 

It was so hard.

Every drag of his fingers found the soft spongey spot within you with practised precision and without mercy, roughly pressing into it with each thrust of his hand, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine and heat to settle in your gut. 

“So quiet now.” He teased, “Where’s that attitude gone?”

“Fuck you.” You grit through your teeth panting, eyes half lidded.

Aemond huffed, straightening up to his full height as his other hand pressed down on your lower back, pinning you to the couch arm. His hand began to fuck into you rapidly, slick leaking down your thighs as you writhed beneath his grip, coil beginning to tighten. 

A broken moan fell erupted from your lips as the knuckles of his hand beat harshly against your clit, pain and pleasure being pulled through you in equal measure. The pain eventually being overridden by the euphoria that he was pulling from you. 

Your walls tightened around his fingers and you felt him shift, the width of his other hand spreading widely across your back as he knelt behind you. You squeaked, trying to move, feeling suddenly shy, which earnt you a particularly harsh swat against the flesh of your ass.

“Stay still.” Aemond growled, and you did, feeling the warm of his breath at your core. 

Your legs shook as his fingers were pulled from within, and you heard him lap at his digits once more, humming almost pornagraphically. 

“Such a dirty, little girl. So wet and wanting for daddy, aren’t you? Such a slut.”

You mewled, hips shifting upwards, trying to take his fingers back inside of you. 

You were so close, so fucking close. 

Aemond leant forward, and dragged a wide stripe with his tongue up through your folds, humming as he moved, his sharp nose pressing into your backside. 

“Fuck.” You whined, jolting forward.

Aemond’s hands grabbed your cheeks and spread them wide in a bruising grip before he dived between your folds, licking and sucking at your pearl with no abandon, your release coming closer and closer with every swipe of his skilled tongue.

He moaned as he lapped at your arousal, tongue dipping between your folds to collect it straight from the source. Aemond’s fingers dug into your flesh meanly as you whined, hips jerking backwards, chasing your release. He held you still, fucking you with his tongue as your climax hurtled towards you. 

“Please.” You begged, fingers gripping the couch for dear life, knuckles going white.

Aemond paused and pulled back, “Please what?” He asked coyly.

You groaned, “Please make me cum.”

“But you don’t deserve that, do you? You’ve been a bitch all night, haven’t you?”

You whined, pushing your hips back as you felt him stand behind you again, “Not true.” You argued pathetically, “You were mean first.”

Aemond’s hand pulled your head back by your hair, eye boring into your own, “You haven’t seen mean at all, princess.”

His fingers pressed back into your walls, head still wrenched back painfully as he fucked his hand into you harder and faster than before, the coil within winding rapidly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Aemond, fuck.”

“Not my name.” He yanked on your hair, pain pulling at your scalp, “What’s my name?”

“Aemond.” You breathed jaggedly, last bit of cheekiness coming through.

His hand stilled inside of you, “No.”

You wriggled and whined, trying to push yourself back to fuck yourself on his fingers. His grip in your hair tightened again, preventing you from making any movements as he kept his fingers still. 

A warning.

You swallowed the last of your pride, and whimpered, “Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Aemond cooed, his hand began to fuck into you again, thumb curling beneath to press into your bud and rub with every thrust, “Beg.”

You whined, biting your lips as pleasure began to mount, your release so close you could begin to feel the peak.

“Beg.” He growled again, thrusts getting harder.

“Please,” You sobbed out, “Please let me cum. Please let me cum, daddy.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He mocked, fucking his hand into you as fast as he could go.

The swirling of his thumb combined with his fingers moving rapidly, caused heat to bloom through your gut as your breath held in your chest. It was all too much, and the coil within wound pathetically fast as his skilled hand brought you to your peak. 

“There you go.” He cooed from behind, feeling your walls clench around his digits, “Good girl.”

You came with a cry, hips pressing backwards into his hand as he fucked you through your climax, drawing out each and every inch of pleasure that he could. The room was filled with your moans and whines, the wet sound of your heat engulfing his fingers behind you.

Aemond slowed his thrusts down as you slumped against the arm of the couch, mind going fuzzy as pleasure coursed through your veins. Aemond removed his fingers carefully, wiping your slick on the inside of your thighs as you felt him look down at you.

Buzz.

You breathed heavily, lost in bliss as a small smile wound on your cheeks. You heard him chuckle behind you at the sight. Completely fucked out on the couch. And only with his hands and mouth.

Buzz.

“You gonna get that?” You sighed dreamily, pants still pushed down to your knees as lay slumped in a daze. 

Buzz.

You turned your head to look at Aemond as he pulled out his phone in agitation, face scowling at the screen. You moved to sit on the arm of the couch, pulling your shorts up as you looked at him scrolling through his notifications.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, feeling concern at seeing his sudden change in nature, “Is it your dad?”

His cool gaze flicked to your face, and you felt the warmth that had once surrounded you grow cold. It was like he had flicked a switch, “How about you mind your own business.” He scowled.

You furrowed your brows at him, “Woah, relax. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

Aemond scoffed, shoving his phone back into his back pocket, “Are you always this overbearing?”

You blanched.

What the fuck?

Buzz.

“What?” You said in disbelief, brows furrowing. 

“Oh, please.” He growled angrily, “Making me dinner, asking after me all the time. If I had known you were that desperate-“

“-Desperate?” 

A flash of regret washed over Aemond’s face. He sighed through his nose and stepped towards you, “Y/n, I-“

“Don’t.” You held a hand up, feeling tears begin to prickle at your eyes standing on shaky legs, “This was a mistake.”

Aemond’s face dropped.

The silver haired man sighed again, “If you would just l-“

“If you treated Alys half as bad as this, it’s no wonder she left you.” You snapped, watching as his jaw tensed, feeling an ache bloom in your chest, “You have no regard for anyone else but yourself, and what we just did was a lapse in my judgement. I thought that you-“ You paused and swallowed, not bothering to finish what you were going to say.

Aemond stood deathly still as you sped past him, not waiting for his response as you fled to your bedroom, slamming your door shut behind you. You crawled immediately into the sheets, tears finally falling from your eyes as you cried softly, turning onto your side to curl in on yourself. 

You felt used.

If there was one thing that you knew, it was that Aemond was not a good person, no matter what Helaena said.

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[nexysworld]

Chapter Summary: You finally make a decision on your relationship. Unfortunately for you it will lead to untold horrors you couldn't have imagined. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

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You continued staring up at the ceiling recovering from the self-induced orgasm. Aftershocks made your legs twitch and tense, you wiggled them about to try and ease the sensation. Finally having the energy to roll over, your view changed from the ceiling to the wall, lined with your stuffed animals. 

Childish maybe, but you always had a fond spot for them, never having been able to throw them away. Some were old, made of patchwork with faded colors – a reminder of your childhood. Others were newer, like the overstuffed pumpkin that Derek had won you for Halloween one year, or the small teddy bear Leon had given you, a present from one of his work trips. 

Your eyes lingered on the squishy pumpkin, the memory of Derek giving it to you rushed to the forefront of your memory. It had been one of your favorite dates together, spontaneously deciding to stop by the boardwalk after dinner one evening. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy overpowered the smell of the ocean as you walked along the clackity wooden path. Halloween décor was tacked on to everything in sight, even the prizes were ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats. 

“You look good like that.” He said, flashing a smile. You tugged on the brim of the cheap witch’s hat, trying to ensure the paper thin material wasn’t going to fly off in the wind. “You calling me a witch?” You gasped in mock offense. “‘Course not baby, I would never.“ He’d doubled over in laughter, spilling the soda on his favorite

band t-shirt. “Oh shit.” He shook the black fabric with one hand trying to get some of the excess liquid off. Slapping his arm playfully, you kissed his cheek. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” “But I’m your jerk, right?” He raised a brow leaning down to return your affection for a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re my jerk.” 

As the two of you made your way down more of the game booths something caught your eye – a huge fat pumpkin with a little spider attached to it. The thing was easily the size of your entire body, and you really wanted it. Coming to a dead stop, you tugged on Derek’s sleeve before pointing at it. “Make it up to me, win me that!” He froze for a second, a nervous laugh exiting his mouth. “I mean I can definitely try…” 

The game runner ate it up, goading Derek to play. He explained it was simple, just toss it at an angle, get the ball into the bucket and boom – prize!

The first ball bounced off the plastic basket almost hitting a child in the face. The second ball followed the course of the first one. The third one impressively flew even farther, and Derek had to run to go get it. “Again.” He said determined, though the next round didn’t fare much better. By the fourth round, you weren’t able to contain your laughter anymore, which only served to egg him on. “Come on baby, I was only kidding. I don’t need it.” “I’m going to win it, just you watch.” “If you say so.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I still believe in you, the millionth time’s the charm.”

You weren’t sure how many losses he’d suffered but you knew he’d coughed up nearly $200 and had nothing to show for it. It made your heart soar a little knowing he was willing and determined to get this for you. 

Lo and behold the last time was the charm, he’d still missed the first two shots, but the third one landed in the basket and stayed there. The smallest of the three bells rang out indicating a win and the game runner clapped behind the counter. “Congratulations!” He shouted with an exaggerated tone before taking his long hooked stick out to yank a prize down. 

It wasn’t the gigantic pumpkin, but it was just perfect in its own right. Medium sized and plump, you squished it to your chest in a hug before capturing Derek’s lips with your own. “It's perfect.”

“Mm, no you’re perfect.” He replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around you from behind as the pair of you made your way further down towards the rides. It had been getting later into the evening, things were dying down a bit. The Ferris wheel was still running and you decided to end the night on the ride together. 

The city was beautiful, sparkling likes juxtaposed against the dark buildings and streets, stars twinkling above. You could see your apartment building, and the coffee shop Derek worked at down the way. Unconsciously you snuggled closer to him in your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder. The words had slipped out of his mouth so casually you’d almost missed it, so relaxed into the moment. “What was that?” You asked softly. “I said I love you.” He replied, petting your hair. It caused your heartbeat to speed up as you registered what he’d said. The air hung heavy with the confession.

“I love you too.”

A hollow and guilty feeling erupted in your chest and made its way down to your stomach at the memory. Post nut clarity was a wild thing – and now that your head was clear everything was starting to make sense. 

Derek had been right, about everything. What did it say about you that hours ago you’d fought with him about your attachment to Leon, and now here you were getting yourself off to the very guy he was worried about. ‘I’m such an asshole.’

You squeezed the pumpkin close to yourself, taking in the still faded but lingering scent of Derek’s cologne. The urge to cry caused you to curl in on yourself for a moment, but you managed to suppress the tears behind a few sniffles. A soft breath escaped you, and you placed the pumpkin back on the shelf. 

Before you rolled back over you glanced next to the pumpkin at the small teddy bear Leon had gifted you. It was black, about the size of your hand. He said he’d brought it back from Spain on his last work trip – something you had been meaning to ask him about more in depth but never got the chance. It was cute, and it meant a lot to you at the time, but now it made your heart ache. ‘Should I get rid of it maybe? It’s not like Leon would know.’

You reached over to grab the small stuffed animal, looking it over, running your fingers against the soft fur. Something caught your eye, a red light in the left eye. It was a faded light, and you could only see it at certain angles. ‘What the –?’ You inspected it more closely, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

‘Maybe the eyes were supposed to light up or something.’ You shrugged, putting the tiny bear back where it belonged, deciding you didn’t have the heart to toss it, hoping Derek just wouldn’t notice its existence. 

Guilty and resolved to making things right, you mulled over what you’d say to Leon, to Derek. You didn’t want to abandon your friendship, but if that’s what it would take, you weren’t going to throw your relationship away – and maybe it would be better for your friendship if you weren’t so close. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nervousness caused you to be jittery, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stood outside his door. ‘You got this. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll understand. He’ll understand.’ You let out a deep sigh, hyping yourself up before knocking on his door. 

The second your eyes met the endless blue of his, regret washed over you from head to toe. The way he leaned against the doorframe, you’d caught him after a workout again, shirtless a sheen of sweat coating his muscles. It was the first time you’d seen him completely shirtless and it was making your brain go haywire a bit. 

Suddenly a palm was in your face, waving. “Hello, Earth to Ms. 306, you there?”  

You were snapped back to the moment. “Sorry, I was spacing out for a moment.” “You don’t say.” He laughed, standing up straight. “Well you’re the one who knocked on my door. What’s up?” “About that. The other night with Derek I uh….” How exactly were you going to explain this? “I think it’s best if maybe you and I saw less of each other.”

Hurt washed over his features. “What? Did I do something wrong?” “No, it’s nothing like that.” “I’m just confused, the guy left you at the theater and –” “I know and that was shitty of him. He just seems to think you and I are too close, and I mean I get it. I can’t say I would be comfortable if he spent as much time with another girl as I do with you.” Averting your eyes, you stared down at your feet. “I’m sorry Leon. It’s just, I do love him and I want to try and work on things ya know? Like you’re a super awesome friend and if it were up to me I’d keep things the way they are but it makes him uncomfortable…so….”

“Of course. I understand completely.” 

You swore there was a slightly strained sound to his voice, you didn’t push it though, happy that he was accepting of things. “Thank you Lee.” Like a coward, you scurried off the moment the conversation concluded.

Luckily Derek had been willing to talk things out and once you had mentioned breaking things off with Leon – if you could even call it that – his mood changed entirely. It  melted your heart to see the way his face lit up, to feel his arms around you. It affirmed in the moment you had made the right decision.

Things fell back into place like nothing had been wrong – except this time around everything was so much more smooth, a love rekindled. You found yourself talking for hours every night before bed time, laughing at dumb stories, falling asleep before the call ended. 

Date nights were becoming a regular occurrence again too, walks in the park, midnight movies. 

All in all things were great, but there was something you just couldn’t shake from the back of your mind. Every moment with Derek, every touch, kiss, conversation – it managed to abate your guilt for him, but all you could do was linger on the fact that something was just missing. 

Obviously you knew the culprit – Leon. 

Somehow, despite everything, you couldn’t shake him from your mind. You missed him terribly and he managed to invade your thoughts at the worst possible moments. Kissing Derek, you’d close your eyes and wonder what it would feel like if Leon had been on the other end.

Walking through the hallway of the battered building felt lonely without the conversations you would have and the laughter that entailed. Helping Mrs. Wilson hurt the most, having to tread to the pharmacy by foot made you miss Leon’s Jeep and the moments spent together. The few times you actually did bump into Leon or catch a glimpse of him, it hurt. 

“This is ridiculous.” You said to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting on your bed. Derek had just dropped you back home after a date, and again the only person on your mind wasn’t the one it should be. “He’s just my neighbor, a friend.” 

Letting out a sigh, you thought about the evening with Derek. He’d actually suggested moving in together now that things were getting better between the two of you. Of course you were hesitant at first, this apartment had a lot of sentimental value and leaving it behind meant taking on a new chapter of your life – it was scary. Thinking back on everything though, you were beginning to think it was a good idea. 

Everything here was reminding you of someone you can’t – shouldn’t have. Leon had been too meshed within your daily routine, and you figured a change of scenery could help with that. You could still check in with Mrs. Wilson, but not have to be reminded of him every single day. 

Resolved to your decision, you texted Derek to let him know. Not knowing why, you had the urge to tell Leon. You didn’t technically have to, and you knew that it wasn’t like you owed him an explanation – it just felt like the right thing to do. 

Still too much of a coward to face him or call, you opted to text him instead. 

‘Long time no talk. Hope ur well. :) ’

Locking the screen, you set the phone down on the nightstand, surprised when less than a minute later it buzzed with a reply. 

‘Just dandy! :) U doin ok?’

‘Yeah!’

‘U sure? not like u to txt out of nowhere.’

‘just had some news i dunno.’

‘news? hope its good lol’

‘i think so… Derek asked me to move in with him.’ 

The three bubbles to indicate he was typing popped up for a mysteriously long amount of time, making you anxious. Finally they stopped, and you waited – nothing. Thirty minutes passed by before you finally received a response. 

‘thats awesome! 👍’

Not sure how to reply, you simply didn’t. The expectation of relief after breaking the news didn’t come, but you pushed it aside. ‘Things are changing. You’ll be just fine once you’re out of here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw Derek was about three days later – the two of you had a camping trip date planned for the weekend. With your duffel bag packed, you took the opportunity to walk  to his apartment, wanting to surprise him that morning. 

The weather was perfectly temperate and it felt nice to have fresh air and sun on your skin, without freezing to death or sweating bullets. The sounds of the city set you at ease, familiar shops and people passing you by as you made your way.

The only odd thing was Derek hadn’t replied to your text. It was just a simple ‘Good Morning’ but it wasn’t like him to not respond. Thinking he was likely just busy getting ready or slept in late, you shrugged it off. This trip was the start of something new – plans to move upon returning – and you weren’t about to let anything stop you from making it positive. Even any thought of Leon was temporarily pushed to the back of your mind. 

His apartment building was a lot nicer, and in a better part of the city. The ivory building came into view and you all but ran from the outside staircase up to the second floor where his home was. Sliding the spare key into the knob, you knew something was wrong immediately – the lights were off and the whole place just felt stale.

“Der?” You called out, flipping the living room light on. “You here?” No response came, you looked out the window to the parking lot and sure enough his car was there – no camping gear on top though. 

Making your way further inside the apartment, you looked around for any sign of him. His keys were tossed on the stained coffee table where they always were. His shoes were by the front door. There was no immediate sign of exit or entry. 

His bedroom door was closed though, something you knew was unusual – he always left it open even at bed time. 

“Der?” You called again, gently cracking the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn and no artificial light to be found. Your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you saw the lump of human form underneath the bed sheets, comforter having been discarded onto the floor. “Baby?” You gently shook him, turning the nightstand light on to the lowest setting. The sheets were moist and sweat soaked, his brows were knitted together in his unconscious state – like a nightmare. It took a few more forceful movements before he finally stirred, shooting up in the bed. “What the fuck!? Oh…oh my god baby I’m sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He brought his hand over his heart as he caught his breath. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you but when I came in everything seemed off. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well. Guess I slept in.” “You’re soaking with sweat, are you sure you’re ok to go? We can just stay in if you’re not well.” “No baby, I’m fine. I promise.” He gave you a weak smile before kissing your cheek. “Just let me take a quick shower and pack up.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I can start carrying the gear down to the car.” He did not look okay at all. His eyes seemed more sunken than usual, skin pale and clammy. Something beyond that just felt off - but he continued to insist everything was fine. 

“Maybe just stop by urgent care real quick. I mean if you are sick maybe they could give you something for it that you can take on the trip?” “Baby, we’re halfway to the campsite. All I need is some fresh air and time with my girlfriend. I told you I feel fine.” “Alright…” You had to admit the campsite he picked was beautiful. This flat plane of grassy area set atop a hill, you could see the entire valley below including the river – the mountains and the sky were along the horizon too. It was beyond breathtaking and you could only imagine the view once the sun set and the stars began to twinkle unimpeded by the city lights. The little area was surrounded by a thick layer of trees, giving you plenty of privacy.

Awestruck by it all, the thought of Derek’s condition nearly dissipated entirely from your thoughts – he seemed to be getting better anyway, easily handling stretching out the tarp, and hammering the stakes into the ground for the tent base. 

“At least one of us is useful.” You teased, nearly getting tangled in the plastic and wiring of the tent. Attempting to bend one of the thin metal sticks down to loop into another section, it flung back whipping you in the face instead. “Fuck, ouch.” A nice thin slice of blood trickled down the stinging red mark on your face. You covered that side of your face with your sleeve. “Can you grab me the first aid kit?” 

There was no response to your request, heavy silence ringing out into the air. “Babe?” Using your good eye you looked over to where he was working on the base, he stood staring at you. “Derek? Hello?” Something about it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t describe, like a 6th sense. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes seemed darker, and his body movement frozen as he gripped the hammer in his hand, tightly. “You’re starting to scare me!”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head before smiling, posture instantly relaxing. “What are you talking about – oh my god are you okay?” He ran over to inspect you and you noted his skin felt weird and cold against your own, not like the usual wet heat you’d experience with a fever. You weren’t sure what to make of it at all, but concern grew within you. “What was that all about?” “What are you talking about?” He replied, dabbing gently at your face with the alcohol pad. A hiss left your lips at the stinging sensation. 

“You just stood there staring at me, totally spaced out.” “I don’t remember that at all.” “Derek, are you sure you’re okay? Like really okay?” “Are you going to keep asking me that this entire trip?” “No, I just….” “Look, let’s finish getting set up for the night, I promise you’ll feel better once we’re settled in.” Another quick kiss and he grabbed the part of the tent you’d been fumbling with to finish putting it together. Not wanting to be near him at the moment, you chose to take his advice, stringing up the solar-fairy lights around the trees and moving to get the campfire spot set up. 

“All done?” “All done!” He said giving you a high five. “Looks great babe, the lights are really cute. I can't wait to see them tonight.” “Me either.” You replied, kissing him – the cold clammy feeling still there. 

There were still a few hours left in the day before sundown, so you opted to explore along the trail for a while. Derek seemed okay initially, his breaks were paced out in a way that made sense. As the day turned to late afternoon though, his breathing seemed to be more labored, breaks became more and more frequent. 

You wanted to say something badly, but knowing he’d blow you off you kept it to yourself hoping it was just a cold or something. 

By early evening, he was looking rough, red veins in his eyes accentuated by deep purple bags, shivers running through him despite the air having become more humid. His bouts of spacing out became more frequent too – randomly staring off into space nodding as if he was in agreement with some invisible thing. 

The worst was when he’d disappeared for 30 minutes on a piss break. You’d found him face first against the tree, urine on his shoes, cock still in hand. Even the sound of your voice didn’t stir him from the spot – nor did shaking his shoulder. 

It was another 5 minutes before he snapped out of it this time, smiling at you? “How’s your eye feeling?” Was all he asked as he zipped himself up. 

A fear stitched itself together within you and more and more you were working on ways to get out of here – to get him some help because something was not right and it definitely wasn’t a cold. This was beyond your comprehension or ability to assist with.

As night began to shadow the area, the two of you made it back to your campsite. The lights you'd hung glistened against the backdrop of the dark woods giving you enough light to set up the fire. Insisting on it, you tucked Derek beneath a thick blanket on the camping chair and begged him to rest.

You considered calling 911, but the thought of all the lights and sirens worried you that it might spook the clearly ill man or provoke him. What you really needed at the moment was advice because you frankly didn’t know what to do, but you were scared.

“Here, drink this.” You said handing him the thermos of now heated soup. “Just try to rest for a bit.” You kissed his forehead. He was getting worse now, feeling like he had been dipped in an ice bath, you never knew a human could get so cold. You swear his veins were getting darker too, at least the ones around his neck – but it could’ve just been the low lighting. “I have to go to the little girl’s tree, I’ll be back.” You assured him, walking until you hoped you were out of earshot. Your phone was gripped tightly in your hand as you paced trying to figure out the best course of action. ‘Can 911 even make it out here? Do people really call 911 over a sick person?’ 

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Unlocking your phone, you squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness of the screen in the dark area. “Who would?” You scrolled through your contacts list at least 5 times – only one name ringing in your head. “I mean he works for the government – not that I know what he does exactly … but maybe?” 

The phone rang with a crackling sound indicating the poor connection from the wilderness – relief flooded over you as the other end of the line picked up. “Leon, thank god. I know this is wildly inappropriate given everything but I need –” Before you even finished you realized he couldn’t hear you. The staticky noise picking up, his voice echoing in and out sounding robotic. The line disconnected on it’s own and the top corner read ‘no signal.’ “Fuck!” You kicked the trunk of the tree in front of you.

“Babe?” The sound of Derek’s voice brought you back, it sounded so weak and hoarse. “I’ll be right there.” You yelled back. “Babe?” He called again. “Babe I’m scared.”

The words made you shiver, the hair on your neck raised – it sounded like Derek, but not at the same time. You still forced that feeling aside and marched back to camp, legs feeling like sand bags as you made them move against your own will. 

“What’s wrong –”

You stopped just behind the tent, he was standing there facing you, the fire illuminating his skin. “Babe, I’m scared.” He repeated again, though his face held no emotion – completely expressionless. Dark black vein made spiderwebs along his skin, running from his arms up onto his face. His irises looked black, red blood vessels in both eyes popped making him look like a demon. The corners of his mouth had blood dried to them. 

He coughed into his hand, more blood coming out. “Help me.” He reached a hand out towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back away from him. “Help me.” He repeated again stepping forward directly into the campfire – unphased by the flames that were licking away at his clothing, his skin. For each step he took forward, you took one back, legs shaking as silent tears spilled. A visceral fear like you’d never experience before sent shockwaves throughout your entire body. 

He brought two burning hands to his head, the flames catching at his hair while he continued to stumble forward at an uneven pace. “My head. It’s splitting my head.” His voice became warbled as he spoke, like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. “You’re scaring me….” You managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper. 

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!” He shouted this time, head twisting to the side the sound of his neck cracking. His features began to warp, nose pulling to the left, mouth twisting, eyes swirling as the flesh tore and split apart – the sound of wet tearing making you feel ill. 

A small worm-like thing poked out of the top of his head, before it darted out, growing and growing in size. A second later his head finally tore an explosion of tentacles waving around in the air, like purple blood worms dancing above the neck of his burning body. His features, the ones you knew so well were twisted amongst the new flesh. 

The now sideways mouth opened into a hiss, long tongue slithering out like a snake. Warm urine trickled down your leg against your will, fear paralyzing any movement or rational thought. There was no comprehension of what was in front of you. 

Despite the flames melting the flesh of the body, it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. A tentacle whipped itself forward, slapping against the tree above you, nearly hitting you. The slimy slapping sound was enough to get your legs moving, despite how wobbly they were. 

You took off into the dark of the woods, leaves crunching beneath you. Shadows danced around your vision in the moonlight that only casted down between the canopy of the trees. The yellow light behind you mixed with the gargling and fleshy noises told you the creature was behind you in pursuit. Branches and bushes whipped your skin leaving you with cuts and welts you couldn’t feel through the adrenaline – path lost you just went as long as you could.

You saw the opening to the camp parking lot, the low streetlamps like a guiding star. “Help!” You shouted, waving an arm as you ran. “God help me!” You screamed again hoping someone would hear you. In your haze you hadn’t noticed the overgrown root curled out of the ground, it caught your ankle right before you made it to the cement of the parking lot.

Your face hit the yellow barrier of the closest spot, a crunching pop against your nose, iron infecting your sense of smell. When the stars stopped buzzing around your head, you looked down to see your ankle still caught under the root, twisted and purple – bone sticking out through the side.

The hissing sound told you the creature wasn’t far behind, the tips of the tentacles appearing just within your now hazed vision. Coughing on the blood that spilled into the back of your throat via your likely now broken nose, you tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t the pain in your ankle too great. The creature was right above you now, drool and slime dripping down onto your face as they wriggled around. Closing your eyes to brace a loud explosion sound rung out, all parts of your face and exposed skin suddenly covered in sticky and warm liquid. Cracking an eye open, you saw the body of the creature as it hit the ground. 

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing blood and teeth and other viscera that had splattered against you. Your hand shakily reached into your tank top feeling at the squishy thing that landed in your bra. 

Bile worked its way out of you upon discovering the eyeball in your hand, tossing it before losing the rest of your stomach contents out onto the open ground. In too much shock and shaking, your vision went black as you slipped into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~

Head reeling you refused to open your eyes, purposefully scrunching them shut against the invading sunlight. You felt like you’d been hit by a bus, every part of you was either sore or stung. As your brain slowly started coming to, the first thing you realized was the smell – out of place but familiar. That spicy and intense cologne – Leon?

‘But why would Leon be in your tent?’ The image of the blonde appeared in your mind making you giggle a moment. Then it occurred to you, you were fully conscious. Confused you opened one eye and then the other, wincing as they adjusted to the light. 

It wasn’t your tent. It wasn’t even your apartment. You sat up as quickly as your mangled body would allow, heart rate picking up again. “Hey there, you’re finally awake.” Snapping to the door you saw him there, a look of concern on his face. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He said softly making his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. “Where am I?” “In my apartment. How are you feeling?” “What happened?” “I was hoping you could tell me that. You called me frantic, when I finally found you, you were hurt and completely out of it. Had to pull some connections to make sure the hospital would even let me take you home.” “What? Where’s Derek?” “Who are you talking about sweetheart?” “Derek? My boyfriend, he and I were camping and he had a cold and then he turned into a monster and…and…” “Shhhh.” He soothed, rubbing your back. “Hey, its okay, you’re safe now there’s no monsters. You’re okay, I’m here.” He adjusted himself so he could pull you closer into him encompassing you with his warmth and frame. 

The weight of his arms around you and the sound of his voice soothed you frantic mumbling as you sobbed into his chest, wetting the cotton fabric with snot and tears. He paid no mind, not letting up on the affection until it died down into sniffles and hiccups. You clung to him like a koala to a tree, desperate to feel better in some way, so overwhelmed with everything. 

Sleep quickly overtook you again, sleeping into dreamless unconsciousness against his form.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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[leewritestoomuch]

I've been so obsessed with Rock Lee for the last few months after getting into Naruto and I'm so glad someone's taking requests for my favourite ninja! If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to see you write Rock Lee helping reader stretch before a work out but since reader isn't really flexible or is just not all that active, they make a lot of, ahem, suggestive noises while stretching. Love your work, can't wait to see more!!

Rock Lee Helping Reader Stretch

Warnings: Suggestive, borderline NSFW. It’s implied.

Basically: You make noises while stretching that Rock Lee’s horny brain can’t ignore.

Recently, your joints and muscles have been killing you. Maybe your half ass stretching routine wasn’t doing the trick, you figured. Even though you knew change had to happen, you just didn’t know how to stretch your muscles out properly for the extensive training you do with Lee.

Usually he shows up earlier than you, so you don’t see him stretching, but you know he’s keen on making sure he stretches properly so he’s probably stretching for a while beforehand. So you decide to show up 40 minutes before you usually would, seeing him just now setting up to stretch and warmup.

He’d clearly been out jogging prior to this. And in your mind, you know he’s done a runners stretch so isn’t that enough? Why does he need to stretch again? (Him and Gai would both scream at you for this way of thinking)

“Hi Lee.” You greet him with a small smile, already exhausted from the training you haven’t even started just by looking at his energetic, muscular self. Somewhere in your mind, you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re winded from the walk to the training grounds, and that Lee is not the reason your breath catches in your throat.

You’ve seen him like this for so long, I mean, you’re on the same team as him now. The only 4 person squad, 5 if you count Gai sensei. You’re so close to all of them, and that’s been normal. Perfectly normal. But recently, your eyes linger on Lee just a little too long.

“Oh hey y/n! I didn’t see you there!” He smiles, the white of his teeth flashing at you in the sun line. Sometimes you wonder how he’s so positive, but then again, you don’t mind it so much anymore. He literally glows though, you swear on it.

“Can I ask you a favor?” You ask, suddenly a little nervous. Your palms are sweating. You try to ignore that.

“Of course! What is it that you want to ask?” He asks, enthusiastically. His smile is almost infectious.

“My joints and muscles ‘n shit are killing me. Can you help me stretch? I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…” You move your neck like you’re trying to get out a knot or something.

Lee agrees, and decides to start simple. He has you put your arms behind your back, your hands joined together, and tells you to stretch them back as far as you can. Then do the same with the front.

After that, he has you do a similar thing with your hands joined over your head before moving down to the ground to stretch out your upper body best. Then your shoulders, elbows, and neck all separately. Then he has you get on the ground to stretch out your back.

And maybe he didn’t think too much about the position, but have you stretch your back up and lower yourself down also meant your ass was up in the air as you arched your back. You realize how embarassing the position is, and what you don’t notice is the way his cheeks flush and he pries his eyes away from your body.

“U-uh great! Let’s do legs!” He says rather quickly, helping you to get into as low of a splits position that you can, before having you lean forward. To get the best stretch, he pushes down on your body a tiny bit. And before you can stop yourself, you let out a moan.

His hands still against your back, and your eyes go wide as you freeze too. Soon you feel him move away, telling you to switch sides. And he repeats the same thing on this side. Much to your disdain, an even louder moan accidentally slips from your mouth. Curse yourself for not being able to be quiet at a time like this.

When you finally sit back up, he’s staring at you. You can’t help but gulp down any salvia you had in your mouth. Then you notice the way his hands are covering the front of his pants. When he notices where your eyes shifted, his blush intensifies and he starts stammering.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean— you were just—“ you cut his rambling off with a kiss, crawling over closer to him. You situate yourself on his lap, his hands darting out for your hips. The kiss doesn’t break until you’re both desperate for more air than you can get with your mouths connected. Before your mutual panting even halts, he smashes his lips back onto your desperately. And at this point, he’s boldly getting handsy.

You can feel the desperation and lust through his finger tips and they find their way around your body. Any curve, dip, anything, he feels for it. And soon he’s laying back on the grass, panting as a string of saliva connects the both of you even as you part.

The look in his eyes told you that what was about to happen at these training grounds should not happen at the training grounds. Your eyes told him you didn’t care the least about that, however.

[littlemisslomax]

if (Crush), return NEO;

college!pre-matrix!Neo x fem!Reader ch. 1 - choking on words inspo: @discoscoob 's College Neo Bot!

1993

It was a cool and breezy fall day at MIT; the sun shone, birds chirped, and students were all around the populated campus, getting to class or just meandering about.

Well... All students except for one: Thomas Anderson. A junior at this prestigious school, working towards his bachelor's degree in Computer Sciences and Engineering with a concentration in C++. He sounds very studious, doesn't he? Yeah, you'd think he would be, but here he is, in his campus apartment, fallen asleep at his computer. The chunky keys of the Macintosh II keyboard were imprinted into his face, and the drool dribbled out of his slightly agape mouth dripped down his cheek and all over the spacebar. It's 11:30 a.m. Thomas has a class in 15 minutes that he absolutely can't miss: Central Functions and Application of C++ with Dr. Brazhnikov. Will he wake up? God only knows... he's snoring like a freight train and is out. for. the. COUNT.

Thomas' dreamland is full of hot chicks, sexy all-black futuristic outfits, and being a total badass. Yeah, like that would ever happen. He is sleeping peacefully and soundly, that is, until one of his roommates, Chris, bursts through his door. "Thomas!!" He said frantically, running over and shaking Thomas awake. "Ugh-- Five more minutes..." Thomas whimpered and whined, not even opening his eyes, the keyboard clicking underneath his face as he moved. "Thomas, we'll be late for Dr. B's class!! Get the hell up!" Chris kept shaking him. It took him a minute, but once those words wafted into his foggy and sleepy brain, Thomas shot up from lying over his computer and quickly went into panic mode. He ran over to the dresser and threw on a plain white tee, a pair of black joggers, and some sneakers before Nerd and Nerdier ran out of the apartment to get to their class on the opposite side of campus.

11:43 a.m. -- Thomas and Chris are doing more physical activity in this moment than they've done in years. Sprinting across the quad, passing student organization tables, groups of friends socializing, and even a couple campus tours. Poor Tommy's heart is beating against his ribcage like a washboard. Sure, he was slim and lean, but he was by no means a runner; but that's not all that has him this way. What's mostly on his mind right now is you. That girl in his class that-- somehow by the grace of God himself-- was assigned by Dr. B to sit next to Neo. She always gave him the jitters, and he never could find the words he wanted to say to her. He wondered if she was in class already, they obviously can't just barge in and make fools of themselves. With a minute to spare, the boys caught their breath outside of the lecture hall and quietly entered to find their respective seats. A frown immediately donned Thomas' face when he realized that his crush... wasn't there today. Although there was a bit of relief that he didn't have to be nervous around her, he was disappointed that he wasn't going to get to look at her beautiful hair, smell her jasmine vanilla perfume, or see her curves in those hot outfits she wears... Anyways, the clock strikes 11:45 and Dr. Brazhnikov goes to close the door. Just as he grabs the knob to shut it, the sound of platformed Dr. Martens boots can be heard thudding against the tiled floor of the corridor. The older man paused upon hearing the sound and looked out the door. "WAIT! Dr. B, please wait!!" You called out desperately. Suddenly, Thomas' ears perked up at the silky sound of your voice, the once-disappointed butterflies now gaining a second wind as he looked attentively at the entrance of the lecture hall. He sat there, his big brown eyes watching as you entered, looking at you like a lost puppy looks at his owner. God, he was so smitten with you. Too bad he's just... kind of a loser. "You're late.." Dr. Brazhnikov said, crossing his arms and looking you up and down. Your only response was to just chuckle and rub the back of your neck as you headed to your seat. "Sorry, Dr. B, it won't happen again..." As you sit down to fling your backpack off your shoulder, your arm grazes Thomas' and he genuinely shivered a bit. His ears turned pink and he quickly looked away, covering the side of his face with his hand. But you paid him no mind; after all, he was just a nerdy guy in a sea of nerdy guys. You were one of maybe five girls in the entirety of the CompSci C++ concentration, and maybe 13 in the whole major, so all the guys just kinda blend into one big amalgam of nerd and geek after a while. Dr. B started class as usual before discussing the midterm project that was due next week: everyone was to turn in a roster of information of their choosing along with a floppy disk drive of a data management system that they were to code on their own using the units they've learned so far. Blah, Blah, Blah... Thomas zoned out as the older Russian man at the front of the class kept droning on and on. That was until he felt paper scrape against his arm.

His big, puppy dog eyes darted down at his arm, a bit startled as he was pulled out of his spacey daze. Shockingly, it wasn't just your notebook scraping up against him. It was a folded-up index card. Thomas looked at you with dazed eyes, but you didn't look back. God, it felt like he was vibrating, his hand trembled as he grabbed the paper. He hesitated to open it, afraid of what you could've written. What if it was something mean?? What if the note wasn't meant for him? The worst-case scenarios were enough to make poor Tommy sick to his stomach. He opened it, and there it was: the most beautiful handwriting he'd ever seen-- definitely prettier than his chicken scratch. Etched on the flash card in green ink:

"Do you have a spare floppy disk I could borrow? I'll wipe it and return it to you once Dr. B grades it."

Oh, you might as well have proposed to him right then and there. You were actually talking to him. Well-- maybe not talking per se... but it is more interaction than he normally gets with the opposite sex, which is little to none. He wasn't sure how to respond on paper, but he was swallowing back acid just at the thought of tapping you and actually speaking. He was such a ball of nerves, stuck at the fork in the road of this (usually mundane) situation. Thomas rifled through his backpack for a disk he knew he'd been carrying around. Hopefully, he didn't take it out... Where is it, where is it??? AH! There it is! Along with the disk, he pulled out a pen from his backpack and wrote in his less-than-legible handwriting:

Yes. Here you go. 💾

Unable to do so much as to touch you, Thomas cleared his throat and passed the disk towards you, leaving the note on top. Upon receiving the note and disc, you turn to this lanky, nerdy guy and flash him the sweetest smile you possibly can. "Thank you so, so, so much!" You whisper to him. "Uhh... N-No." Thomas choked out, his face bright red and his eyes involuntarily locked on yours. What the hell kinda response is that? 'NO??? YOU FUCKING IDIOT?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO???' Thomas thought to himself. "No...?" You can't help but laugh at the guy's response. "I-I mean... N-No, thank you... I-I mean No Problem... Y-Yeah... no problem..." Thomas stammered out and you couldn't help but laugh again. "Ohhh, okay..." You giggle and turn your attention back to the front.

He scratched the back of his neck and turned his attention to the lecture hall floor, the same floor which he had wished more than anything would split open and swallow him whole.

Suddenly, another note is passed to him.

Mind if we chat after class?

oh fuck... He checked his watch, lo and behold, 5 minutes left of class.

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this. it's gonna be a verrrryyyy slow burn. (neo just doesn't get it, pls be patient with him. he'd just a silly little guy)