#too much anxiety for a fictional story but okay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 6 months ago

Text

Cozened Indigo - Part Three

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of murder, dark themes, smut, dubious consent, allusions to no consent. Dead dove; do not eat. Dear god, please mind the tags. Word count: ~9.6k

Summary: The article goes live and a verdict is delivered.

Author's note: I have put my journalism degree to use here, to ensure as much accuracy as possible. However, as Westeros is a fictional place, I have warped certain laws and regulations regarding court reporting for the purpose of the story. Please suspend your disbelief for the sake of a fictional tale. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Rhaenyra has gotten wind of the fact that Aemond has spoken to the press, so now she’s doing an interview too – with White Knight Magazine.”

Larys’ words play on a loop in her mind as she sits heavily in her office chair, dread forming a pit in her stomach as anxiety flutters unbridled within her chest. Her interviews with Aegon and Helaena are set for tomorrow, she still has to do her background research on them both, alongside transcribing all of her interviews with Aemond. With just two weeks to do it all, and with Rhaenyra’s pending interview looming over it, it feels too huge an obstacle to overcome. She is being set up for failure, made all the more humiliating by the fact that the feature from the opposing side is to be featured in the publication that effectively put an end to her career. It has to be deliberate, there is no way it's a coincidence.

It’s not until she sees the droplet of moisture splatter upon her desk that she realises she’s crying. Burying her face in her hands, she draws in a shuddering breath, attempting to pull herself together.

Not here. Not in the office,

“Everything okay?”

Startled, her head snaps up to look at Royce, his features pinching into a look of concern as she sniffles and hurriedly wipes at her eyes.

“Doesn’t everyone cry at their desk occasionally?” She jokes, attempting to play it off with a watery laugh.

“Let’s step into my office,” he responds softly, not giving her a chance to reply as he turns and walks away.

She sighs, tipping her head back and uttering a quiet “fuck” before following him.

“Want to tell me what’s really going on?” Royce says, perching on the edge of his desk and folding his arms, as she closes the door behind her.

The weariness that has weighed upon her since her discovery of the upcoming Targaryen trial settles over her with a heavy finality, as she meets his gaze with exhausted resignation.

“I can’t do this, Royce. Put me back on the Flea Bottom curfew piece.”

“What? Why?!” He narrows his eyes, leaning forward slightly.

“Rhaenyra - Aemond’s half sister - is doing an interview of her own.”

“So?”

“With White Knight Magazine.”

“Ah.”

“The deadline is too tight, I’ll never be finished in time.” She sags against the office door, wrapping her arms around herself.

“What’s the hold up?”

Exasperatedly, she drags a hand through her hair. “I have all of my interviews with Aemond to transcribe still, and that’s before I even begin writing the piece. On top of that, I now have to interview Aegon and Helaena, and I–”

“Woah”, Royce interrupts, “the brother and sister have agreed to be interviewed by you?”

“Yes, tomorrow, and I haven’t even started my background research on them yet. What am I going to do?!”

Royce reaches behind him, lifting the box of Kleenex from his desk. He gently tosses it towards her and she catches it, smiling gratefully as she plucks one out to dab at her eyes and nose.

“You’re going to go home, and do your background research, and prepare for your interviews tomorrow. You can leave your transcription with me. I’ll do it for you.”

“You?” She looks at him wide eyed with incredulity, balling the tissue up in her fist. “You didn’t even want me working on this story in the first place, why would you want to help me?”

“It’s not entirely selfless”, he says with a shrug, “this feature will be huge for The Gazette, it’s in my best interests to make sure you get it done.”

“Makes sense,” she admits with a nod. “Thank you.”

“Send me your audio files,” he instructs, pushing himself back into a standing position, “and then go home and get to work. Your runny mascara is bad for office morale.”

Face given a thorough clean with a wet wipe, a few hours later she sits curled up on her sofa, her gaze fixed intently on her laptop. Royce offering to do her transcription for her has shifted some of the burden from her, and she feels lighter as she clicks through each of the articles she finds regarding Helaena and Aegon Targaryen.

Helaena seems like an anomaly within the family, a blinding white beacon of joy within an ocean of misery. She is heavily involved in environmental conservation, an activist for animal rights and has received several awards for her charitable work. If she has anything at all positive to say about her younger brother, then it would be a huge help to the article.

Aegon, on the other hand, is not quite so impressive. There is little to no evidence that she can find which alludes to his morality or personality, though if the photographs splashed across trashy tabloids of him drunkenly falling out of nightclubs, and parading down the street with an ever changing array of women on his arm are anything to go by, then it’s not good. There’s a small article regarding his brief stint in a rehab facility, which offers a glimmer of hope, but only the interview itself will tell for certain.

As her taxi drives slowly up the expansive and seemingly never ending driveway of the Targaryen-Hightower mansion the following morning, she is momentarily stunned by the grandiosity of it all. She had known the family was rich, but this seems obscene. The property is located on a hill in the centre of King’s Landing, which overlooks the city, serving as an unnecessary physical reminder of how far above everyone else the family is, or at least considers themselves to be.

Her driver had been buzzed through the main gate via an intercom on the drive up to the house, so she is surprised to find no one is waiting for her once she steps out of the car. Standing in front of the large, forest green front door she lifts the ring pull of the bronze dragon head knocker and raps it against the wood three times.

She shuffles from foot to foot, anxiously waiting. A full minute passes and she is about to knock again, when the door swings open. A mop of disheveled, wavy, silver blonde hair and tired blue eyes greet her as she looks into the face of Aegon Targaryen.

As her gaze travels downwards she sees he is dressed in only a pair of low riding grey jogging bottoms and a dark green robe, which isn’t tied. She falters, blinking rapidly and clearing her throat, as she looks back at his face. The lazy smirk painted across his features is unnerving.

“Mr. Targaryen?”

“Aegon,” he corrects her. “You the reporter?”

She nods, shifting her bag to the opposite shoulder. “Right…Aegon. Am I too early? Larys said 11am.”

He gives a slight shrug. “I must have gotten carried away with my beauty sleep. Guess you’d better come in.”

Aegon leaves the door open, padding on bare feet through the foyer. She follows him, eyes wide as she takes in the opulence of the high ceilings and expensive art that adorns the walls.

He leads her through to the kitchen, opening the double doors of a large silver refrigerator.

“Get you a beer?” He asks, pulling a bottle out before biting the cap off with his teeth.

She winces. “Not for me, thanks, bit early.”

He takes a drink, nodding as he mulls over her response. “I’d offer you a bloody mary, but we’re out of tomato juice.”

She is about to laugh, until she sees that he’s sincere, so bites back the urge. “Honestly, I’m fine. Got a water bottle in my bag.”

“Fair enough,” he utters, leaning forward on his elbows on the kitchen island as he sets the bottle down. “So, how does this work?”

“I just want to ask a few questions about your brother, Aemond. Have you got a place you’d like to go to do that?”

“Why not right here?”

She raises her eyebrows slightly, taken aback by the informality, before nodding. He watches her intently as she rummages in her bag, taking out her dictaphone and placing it on the granite surface that separates them. “Will we not be interrupted?”

“Nah, mum’s gone with grandad to visit Aemond. That’s why Larys set up the interview for today. They’re pissed off that he’s spoken to the press, so better for you to be here when they aren’t.”

She purses her lips, pushing down her unease, before nodding towards the dictaphone. “I need to record this. That okay?”

His gaze rests upon the recording device for a moment, before he takes another long swig of his beer. “Yeah,” he finally says.

She pulls out a wooden bar stool, sitting upon it before she presses record. “We’ll start with your childhood. What was Aemond like growing up?”

“A twat,” Aegon shoots back quickly, causing the corners of her mouth to turn up into the faintest of smiles.

“Can you elaborate?”

Aegon sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He just…took everything really seriously. He never had a sense of humour about anything.”

“So, you didn’t like him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s my brother, I love him, we’re just very different.”

“Different how?”

“Aemond is ambitious, he’s hard working. I’m not, I just want…”

She raises an eyebrow as he trails off. “You just want..?”

“To be happy,” he mutters.

“And are you?”

He scoffs. “I thought this interview was about my brother?”

“Do you think your brother was ever happy growing up?”

“He had his eye carved out of his skull when he was ten, of course he wasn’t!”

“By your nephew, Lucerys?”

Aegon’s brow furrows with anger, his tone dark and clipped. “Little shit got what was coming to him.”

Her breath catches in her throat, her blood turning icy in her veins as she stares at him, wide eyed. Slowly, with a shaky hand she reaches forward to press the stop button on the dictaphone.

Aegon drains the remnants of his beer, heavily setting the bottle back down and lowering his gaze as he grips the edge of the kitchen island.

When she eventually finds her voice, it comes out as a strained whisper. “Do you think Aemond killed him on purpose?”

His mouth quirks, eyes obscured slightly by the hair that has fallen into his face as he looks slowly back up at her. The air feels thick, and she realises she’s holding her breath as she waits for him to respond.

“Is this the lady that’s here to interview us?” A quiet voice comes from behind her.

She jumps, turning on her stool to look at the woman that hovers in the kitchen entryway, dressed in a white vest top and powder blue harem pants. Her hair falls in soft, loose, silver blonde waves almost to her waist, her eyes hold a faraway, dreamy quality. This must be Helaena.

Aegon nods. “Yeah, she was just interviewing me.”

“Oh…” Helaena deflates slightly, clasping her hands in front of. “I’ve interrupted.”

Her brother shakes his head, pushing away from the counter and walking from the kitchen. “No. No, you didn’t. We’d just finished, all yours.”

She watches him retreat, before turning her focus to his sister.

Well, that’s the end of that then.

“Hi,” Helaena says with a soft smile, extending her hand as she steps forward. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She takes her hand, feeling the Targaryan woman noticeably flinch at the contact, giving it the briefest of shakes before letting go. “You must be Helaena.”

“I am,” she says nodding, clutching her hands in front of her once more. “Sorry about Aegon, he just has a hangover…he always has a hangover.”

Her gaze turns sad and she looks away. For a few seconds it seems as if she’s not even there anymore, and she wonders where she’s gone, before Helaena returns to the present and smiles once more.

“Shall we go up to my room?”

She trails after her up the stairs, looking at the antiquities that decorate the vast amount of space that makes up the house, until they reach Helaena’s bedroom. Stepping inside she is taken aback by the brightness of it, it feels like she has entered another universe separate from the darkened surrounds of the rest of the mansion.

Floral wallpaper adorns the walls, with a variation of frames containing pin mounted insects and butterflies. She turns to a shelving unit, picking up an expensive looking crystal beetle to examine it as it sparkles in the sunlight.

“This is beautiful,” she muses more to herself than Helaena.

“You like it?” She asks, causing her to look up, suddenly embarrassed at having handled a stranger’s belongings without asking.

“Sorry,” she replies, flustered, placing the beetle back on its shelf. “Never seen anything like it.”

“You can have it if you want,” Helaena quips with an easy shrug.

She blinks rapidly, unsure if she has heard her correctly. “Pardon?”

“If you like it, you should have it,” she tells her, sitting on the edge of her bed.

It’s a sweet gesture that comes from a place of childlike innocence, but is also indicative of how shockingly out of touch wealth makes people. Of course she doesn’t mind if she gives away something so expensive, not when the resource is there to easily replace it.

“That’s very kind, but I couldn’t,” she says, taking out her recorder. “I don’t want to intrude upon too much of your day. Shall we get started?”

Helaena is easier to interview than Aegon had been. She speaks kindly of Aemond, and as she listens she finds herself feeling more and more sad, not just for Aemond but for the entire family. Helaena had always wanted a sisterly relationship with Rhaenyra, but with a seventeen year age gap and Rhaenyra’s apparent resentment at no longer being an only child, it never happened. Where Aegon had often made fun of her, Aemond had been good to Helaena when they were growing up, patient and understanding of her tendency to daydream and fascination with insects.

“I don’t want my brother to go to prison,” she says sadly, “I just want us to be a family.”

“Do you think that that’s what Aemond wants too?”

“I don’t know what my brother wants anymore. I don’t think he knows himself.”

As her taxi drives her back towards home, dread settles in her stomach like a heavy stone. She can’t help but wonder what Aegon would have said if Helaena hadn’t interrupted them. There is no denying that the Targaryens are a family that are steeped in tragedy, but amidst it all something unseen and sinister lurks, looming with the sense that by the time she stumbles upon it, she’ll be too far in to back out.

“For you,” Royce says the following morning, depositing a USB drive onto her desk.

“Are those the transcriptions?” She asks, looking up at him with wide eyed wonder. “That was quick work.”

“It’s a tight deadline”, he replies with a smirk. “How did your interviews go yesterday?”

Little shit got what was coming to him.

She draws in a breath, unsure of what guides her actions. “I only interviewed Helaena in the end. Aegon was too hungover.”

“A shame, but one interview is better than nothing. Send me the audio and I’ll transcribe that for you too, so you can crack on with the writing.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

“I know,” Royce says with a wink, before walking away.

She picks up her dictaphone, hovering over the audio file for Aegon’s interview.

Little shit got what was coming to him.

There is no way she can allow Royce to hear that, though she cannot put her finger on why. Before she has a chance to dwell on it further, she erases the recording and gets to work uploading Helaena’s to her computer, then emails it to Royce.

Over the following week, she works hard on the feature, painting a picture of the enigma that is Aemond Targaryen in his own words, as well as his sister’s. It’s a heart wrenching piece, a tale of a misfit little boy, maimed at the age of ten and left to live with the consequences of it. However, instead of collapsing into despair or falling back on a comfortable lifestyle, funded by his family’s fortune, he had studied hard and was an accomplished solicitor within his grandfather’s law firm. He had overcome his disability to train in athletic pursuits such as mixed martial arts and long distance running, and is knowledgeable in the fields of both history and philosophy. There is no denying that Aemond Targaryen is impressive, even without having to navigate the difficulties of losing an eye.

Once the article has been thoroughly vetted by Royce, it goes to print, landing on newsstands the exact same day as Rhaenyra’s interview in White Knight Magazine. Aemond cuts an imposing figure in the photograph used in the double page spread, a sinister presence in direct opposition with the content of the article. And still there is something that niggles at the back of her mind, a stone she has left unturned. Was she right to omit Aegon’s interview? She supposes it is of little consequence, it’s too late now.

White Knight is a larger publication, so occupies a more prominent shelf space than the Duskendale Gazette. However, upon news spreading that a feature with the elusive Targaryen second son is contained within its pages, it sells out quickly, with an urgent extra print run needing to be made to supply the demand for more copies, despite additional copies having been printed in the first place, in anticipation of the article’s popularity. But they hadn’t anticipated just how popular the feature would be.

As she stands in the newsagents, looking at both publications on the shelf, she is struck by the thought that this presents itself as forcing the public to choose a side, despite neither article making mention of the murder or impending trial.

She reads Rhaenyra’s feature, and cannot help but feel sympathy for her. A young woman whose world was rocked when her best friend had married her father after her mother had died, and then made to feel displaced by the children that that relationship had produced. Already having to deal with the animosity that divides the family in the wake of her father’s death, she now must cope with the grief of losing her son.

Whose side should she choose? She wishes more than anything that Aegon had answered her question, it would doubtless make for an easier decision.

Her phone buzzing in her pocket pulls her out of her reverie and she huffs an irritated sigh as she sees Larys’ name flashing on her screen. She had assumed her dealings with him would be over once the article went to print. It appears she was wrong.

“Nice work,” he drawls into the receiver once she’s answered. “You’ve painted quite the picture.”

“Has he seen it?”

“Aemond? Yes, I ensured he received a copy this morning. He’s pleased with how it’s turned out. That’s why I’m calling, actually.”

“The article’s published, what more is there to say?”

Larys clicks his tongue, his tone dripping with condescension. “Now, now, we did you a favour in letting you run this feature. You’ll have every publication in Westeros beating down your door to commission you after today. Don’t you think a little gratitude is in order?”

“Gratitude?!” She snipes back. “Isn't it enough that I’ve painted a rosy picture of a…”

Murderer.

She can’t bring herself to say the word, there is still a seed of doubt in her mind, yet Larys knows what she means regardless.

“Alleged,” he corrects her. “All Aemond wants to do is say thank you, surely a phone call couldn’t hurt?”

“Do not give him my phone number,” she seethes.

“Very well. But you’ll be at the trial?”

“It’s a closed courtroom.”

“It is. Selected press only, to avoid it becoming a media circus, but I can get you on the list.”

“I’m not supposed to be covering the trial.”

“And you won’t be, don’t worry, I can still get you in.”

“You’ve come this far. May as well see it through to the end.”

Aemond’s words echo in her mind, and she relents with a sigh. It’s not as if she isn’t curious. “Alright, fine.”

“Excellent. See you then.”

The line goes dead.

The trial is to last three days. A day for the prosecution to deliver their testimonies, a day for the defense to present their case, and a day for the jury to deliberate and then pass their verdict, with subsequent sentencing from the judge. Rhaenyra is pushing for a murder sentence, while the other side of the family argue it was an accident.

The tightly wound knots of dread that have made their home inside of her over the last month are prominent as ever as she arrives at the courthouse on the first day. She is ushered in after giving her name, though not towards the sparsely populated press seats as she had assumed she would be.

Bile rises acridly in her throat, her eyes widening in horror as she realises she is being led towards the public gallery to sit with Aemond’s side of the family. Despite wanting to remain neutral, she is being given a side, without the option to choose, though deep down she knows she had subconsciously made her choice the moment she decided to interview Aemond. The idea makes her feel nauseated.

The entire family is tense as she takes a seat next to them. Aegon side eyes her uncomfortably, while Helaena, though she forces a smile, is fidgety and withdrawn. It’s clear she would rather be anywhere but here. Otto bristles at the sight of her, rising slightly from his seat, before Alicent places a hand on his forearm, urging him back down again.

“Aemond wants her here,” she whispers, patting her father’s hand as he sighs and turns his gaze ahead.

Despite defending her presence, the Hightower matriarch doesn’t acknowledge her, keeping her eyes fixed upon her nails, which look red raw around the edges.

An eerie silence falls over the courtroom as Aemond is led out towards the dock, accompanied by a prison officer. He is stony raised as he is seated, keeping his attention fixed on a far point towards the back of the room, though she is certain that for just a second she sees his eye flicker to her, the briefest of smirks tugging at the corners of his mouth. Her stomach somersaults and she forces herself to look away. When she looks back, he’s staring towards the back of the courtroom once more.

“All rise for the honourable Judge Wylde,” a member of staff calls out, and she stands with everyone else, watching as the judge sweeps into the courtroom, taking a seat at the bench, before they are all instructed to sit once more.

Rhaenyra’s solicitor, Erryk Cargyll, delivers the opening statement for the prosecution’s case, claiming that his client has grounds to believe that the death of her son was deliberate and premeditated.

The hours feel as though they drag by as statements are delivered by Rhaenyra, her sons, Jacaerys and Joffrey, and her husband, Laenor. Though all are clearly emotional, and still reeling from the death of Lucerys, none of them actually saw what happened. The evidence is all purely circumstantial, with nothing concrete. Rhaenyra appears visibly distressed, and her heart aches for her knowing that Larys is likely to tear her apart during his questioning.

She isn’t wrong. Larys’ questions hinge upon the fact that her dislike for her half siblings is what guides her judgements and he repeatedly asks if she saw what happened. She appears flustered, stumbling over her words, growing more emotional as the questioning grows more pointed.

Looking over at Alicent, she sees a harrowed look in her eyes, her expression solemn as she stares wide eyed at her former friend from the public gallery, gripping her father’s hand tightly. It is awful to watch, and she is desperate to leave.

Unsurprisingly, Aemond is calm and collected as he is questioned by both Larys and Erryk, keeping his answers clipped and simple. Saying that he had been eager to get away from the family gathering, and had not seen Lucerys as he’d struck him in his haste to drive off. He never falters, even under the heated cross examination from Erryk, asking if he’d been motivated by the injury sustained as a child in his killing of Lucerys. Aemond replies with a simple “no, it was an accident”,

By the time the court is adjourned for the day, she is exhausted both mentally and emotionally. She feels for Rhaenyra, it is clear to see how much she loves her son, and she just wants justice for him. Yet her case is flimsy, and she knows that Aemond’s defense will deal the killing blow tomorrow. On the other hand, Aemond could be telling the truth, in which case, horrible as it is, is it fair that he should be hauled over the coals for an accident? He’ll serve a prison sentence either way.

Despite her tiredness, sleep does not come easy for her that night, knowing she will have to do this all again tomorrow.

The following day, as she’d expected, the defence tears apart Rhaenyra’s case, especially when they call Dr. Orwyle to the witness stand. He is apparently the doctor that had treated Aemond when he initially lost his eye, and had helped him with pain management and rehabilitation in the years that followed.

The doctor’s statement deduces that Aemond’s lack of depth perception means it is not advisable for him to drive at night, due to reduced visibility, so it is entirely plausible he would not have seen Lucerys at all as he’d driven away.

Larys’ closing statement underscores it all; “so, you see your honour, my client was in such emotional distress that evening that he felt he had no choice but to leave. It was an honest accident. Is Aemond Targaryen careless? Yes. But a killer? No.”

“Fucking liar!” Rhaenyra cries out, jumping to her feet, her voice fraught with emotion.

“Order!” Judge Wylde shouts across the courtroom.

She bows her head, drawing in a withering sigh. The trial is over, it’s just the verdict and sentencing to go now.

When she looks back up, a shiver runs the length of her spine; Aemond is staring directly at her. He’s smiling.

She allows her curiosity to get the better of her, once the court is adjourned for the day, catching up to Aegon as he walks from the courtroom. He whips around as she gently grabs his arm, his brows knitting together in confusion as he looks at her.

“I’ll never hear the end of it from Mum, if she sees me talking to you,” he mutters, attempting to pull away.

“I know,” she says, stepping in front of him to block his path, “but I’ll be quick. I just need to know, when I asked you the other day if you thought Aemond had killed Luceys on purpose, what would you have said if Helaena hadn’t interrupted us?”

Aegon sighs, rolling his eyes as he steps around her. “I think you already knew the answer to that when you omitted my interview. It doesn’t matter really though, does it?” He says to her, as he begins walking away. “He’s going to prison either way.”

His words bring her little comfort, and she stands, watching with unease, as he descends the steps at the front of the building. In a sense, he is right, it doesn’t matter now, and her article is already published. She hates herself for it.

She feels sick with nerves the following day, as the final closing statements are read out, and she’s unsure why. Aemond is nothing to her, and yet she feels that she has played a part in this all the same, will somehow be responsible for whatever verdict is reached, whether it’s the right one or not.

The faces of Rhaenyra, Laenor and Jacaerys are sullen and angry on one side of the courtroom, while Alicent and Helaena look fraught with worry. Otto and Aegon sit stony faced and impassive.

It takes the jury just one hour to reach their verdict.

The clerk of the court calls out, “Will the foreman of the jury please stand? Have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?”

When the foreman answers in the affirmative, the clerk continues. “On the first count in the indictment, murder in the first degree, do you find the accused guilty or not guilty?”

“Not guilty.”

Rhaenyra collapses into Laenor’s arms with a sob, as Jacaerys jumps to his feet, shouting obscenities. It’s not until Judge Wylde threatens to have him removed that order is restored in the court, and the verdict can continue.

She looks to Aemond, sitting in the dock, his gaze lowered, the silver strands of his hair obscuring his face, so she’s unable to see his reaction, but she can tell from the movement of his wrists that he’s fiddling with his fingers. Is he nervous? He has been so stoic throughout this entire process, to see him falter is unnerving. She finds herself unable to look away as the final verdict is read out.

“On the second count in the indictment, manslaughter, do you find the accused guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty.”

Aemond looks to his mother as the verdict is read out, her brown eyes doleful and filled with tears as she gazes back at him. Rhaenyra storms from the courtroom, the heavy wooden double doors flinging wide open as she departs, quickly followed by Laenor and Jacaerys.

“He’s going to prison,” Helaena whispers sadly.

“That was always going to happen,” Aegon retorts with a heavy sigh.

When the judge passes a sentence of ten years, Alicent buries her face in her hands and sobs.

“He’ll be out in five, if he behaves himself”, Otto says quietly, in an attempt to reassure her.

“But our family is torn apart forever,” she whispers tearfully.

She has seen all she needs to see, and cannot stomach watching or hearing anymore. Rising from her seat, she hurries from the courtroom and outside to the top of the steps, sucking in steadying breaths to help calm the rising panic within her.

Her obligation to Aemond is complete, so she doesn’t understand why this has affected her the way it has. Likely the result of being trapped in such a toxic setting for the last three days, which makes her all the more determined to get away.

Pulling out her phone, she is about to open the taxi app, when Larys calls to her from the entryway of the courthouse. “He’d like to see you.”

“What?!” She asks incredulously, turning to look at him with a scowl. “What for?!”

“To say thank you, and goodbye. You rejected the offer of a phone call, perhaps you can give Aemond a few moments of your time to say his piece in person?”

“I’ve just given three days of my life watching a grieving mother be made a mockery of for his benefit, don’t you think he’s had enough from me already?”

“I can get you into the holding room for a few minutes, before his family go to see him, ahead of him being transferred back to Dragonstone. Just a few minutes, and then all of this is behind you. He has asked to see you specifically.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose exasperatedly. “You aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Aemond would look handsome in the all black, expensively tailored suit he’d worn for court, were it not for the handcuffs that bind his wrists together, reminding her that he’s a convicted criminal.

“Speak then,” she says, as she sits down opposite him.

“I just wanted to say thank you, truly, for the article you wrote. You really are a talented writer, and I’m sure great things are in store for you.”

She purses her lips, humming in acknowledgement, uncomfortable with the compliment. “That’s quite alright.”

“I really enjoyed our chats together. I’m going to miss them.”

She frowns, not at the words themselves, but the fact that they are sincere. He means what he’s saying. “It was for a professional purpose,” she insists.

He shakes his head, leaning forward against the table. “I know you enjoyed them too.”

She shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “Well, they’re over now.”

“They don’t have to be,” he says with a shrug, “ten years is a long time, plenty of time for us to chat.”

She leans back, away from him, the familiar weight of dread settling over her once more. “Aemond, I don’t think that’s a–”

He lurches forward across the table, grabbing her forearm, almost painfully so, his tone desperate and pleading. “Say you’ll come to visit me!”

She is unsure of whether it’s because there’s a part of her that secretly wants to, because she can’t bear to see the look of anguish in his eye any longer, or if she just wants him to let go of her so she can leave, but she finds herself whispering back in a trembling voice “okay, I will”.

It is not a promise she keeps.

Larys had been right, her article about Aemond is the spark that reignites her career. In the weeks following the publication of the feature, her email inbox had been inundated with offers of work from editors across a variety of different media outlets.

She had spent a long time chained to a desk at “The Wall” of the Duskendale Gazette, she did not much fancy swapping one static position for another. Eager to spread her wings, she had handed in her notice, despite Royce’s offer of a promotion. She craved freedom, and with her pick of what publications to write for, she made a successful career of freelancing. Over the next few years she had articles published in broadsheet newspapers and glossy, high end magazines alike, covering current events and interviewing high profile public figures. She made a comfortable living, until eventually she accepted the job of commissioning editor at Gold Cloak, a fashion and lifestyle magazine with a huge circulation and an even larger salary. She is almost able to put to the back of her mind the person who put her there in the first place. Almost.

In the months following Aemond’s sentencing, she had received several calls from an unknown number. On the one occasion she had picked up, it had begun with the automated message “an inmate from Dragonstone Prison is trying to reach you…” She had hung up immediately, her heart lurching, remembering she had said she would visit him, but knowing full well she couldn't. Not because of the morality of the situation, but because of how strong her desire to go actually was. That was a part of her she was eager to suppress. As the calls had continued, she had eventually opted to change her number, and after that they had stopped.

Aemond Targaryen is no more than a meager itch at the back of her mind now. It has been five years since she last spoke to him.

The sunshine warms her skin through the glass of the café window as she sits at the rounded wooden table, leaning back in her chair as her eyes scan over the article she has just had emailed to her. Deadline day is approaching for Gold Cloak, as they gear up to go to print with their next issue, and the last few stragglers are finally submitting their copy. It’s an odd sensation to be appraising the words of others, instead of writing her own, but she’s worked hard to get to this point, and it’s satisfying to be in a position where she is considered senior enough to dictate the contents of a major publication, not just contribute towards it.

Making the most of a work from home day, she has elected to visit her local coffee shop, watching the world pass by on a busy side street of King’s Landing, while the spicy aroma of her chai latte comforts her as she works.

She frowns when the sunlight she had been enjoying morphs into muted darkness. Her breath hitches, and she lets out a frightened gasp as she looks up to see Aemond standing over her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says softly, “I saw you as I was passing and I wanted to say hello.”

His words do little to comfort her, and her eyes desperately scan the coffee shop. It’s relatively busy, with lots of people, witnesses. Good.

He smirks. “I’m not here to hurt you, don’t worry.”

She swallows thickly, shifting to sit fully upright in her seat. “What are you–”

“I only served half my sentence, I was let out on good behaviour. I’m not an escapee, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

“Right, right…” she mutters, attempting to get her thoughts in order as her heart feels like it’s set upon hammering its way out of her chest.

“Mind if I sit?” Aemond says, gesturing to the empty seat opposite hers. “Might make you feel better if I’m not looming over you.”

What can she say? She looks around the café again, deciding she doesn’t want to cause a scene. “Yeah, sure.”

He pulls out the chair, sitting opposite her. Aemond is not quite as intimidating as she remembers him, though she supposes the only time she’d ever seen him before was in prison sweats or dressed for court. Today, as the sun dapples across his pale skin, he looks softer somehow, not nearly as scary as she’d once thought. His long silver blonde hair is pulled up into a low bun, and he’s dressed casually in a black leather jacket, a dark green henley and black slacks tucked into black Doc Martens.

She closes her laptop, perching her elbows on the edge of the table and resting her chin on her hands as she looks at him.

“I’m sorry I never–”

“So what are you–”

They both pause, smiling awkwardly as they begin to talk over each other, before Aemond gestures towards her. “You first.”

She nods, leaning back again, drumming her fingers softly on the table. “I never did come to visit you. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs out of his jacket, letting it drape across the back of the chair. “It was wrong of me to ask you, to be honest,” he admits, “I’d just never opened up to anyone like that before, and though I knew the consequences of the accident, none of it really felt like it was happening until it did. I panicked.”

The accident.

She finds it odd that he refers to in such a way, but he seems so different now, less tense, and she feels herself beginning to relax. Perhaps it really was an accident?

Wrapping her hands around her cup in a bid to ground herself, she nods. “So how long have you been out?”

“A few weeks,” he tells her, his hands coming to rest upon the table as he turns a stray sugar packet around in his fingers. “It’s been a bit of an adjustment.”

“You’re looking well through,” she blurts, before she has time to stop herself.

He smirks and she feels her skin grow hot as he retorts “I could say the same about you.”

She clears her throat, eager to switch gears in the conversation. “So, are you gonna grab a coffee, or are you just passing through?”

“Well, actually, since I’ve run into you, I wondered if perhaps you’d like to join me for something stronger?”

She raises her eyebrows. She knows it’s a bad idea, the trouble is the voice telling her that is not as loud as the one screaming at her to say yes.

“What are you having?” Aemond asks as they stand at the bar of Maegor’s Holdfast.

“Glass of Rioja, please.”

Aemond nods, turning to the bartender. “Bottle of Rioja and two glasses, please.”

“A whole bottle?!” She hisses, as the bartender moves away to fetch their order.

Aemond gives an easy shrug. “We’re both having the same thing, it makes more sense to share a bottle, than two separate glasses.”

“So, what are you doing with yourself these days?” Aemond asks, as they sit in a cosy corner of the pub, sipping their wine.

“Working, mostly,” she tells him, “I’m commissioning editor for Gold Cloak Magazine.”

“Impressive,” he says, raising his glass to her. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

“Thanks to you,” she replies quietly, a heated feeling of shame feeling as though it envelopes her. She’s keen to change the subject. “So, what’s going on with you?”

“I can’t return to Red Keep Legal, I’m no longer allowed to practice law. I figured I’d study in another field, maybe history or philosophy, see where that takes me. I’m living back with my mother until I get back on my feet.”

“How’s the family?”

“Mother is okay. Fussing over me far too much now that I’m back. Grandfather has retired, he’s gone back to Oldtown, got himself a nice little cottage. It’s fairly quiet at the house, feels empty.”

“Are Helaena and Aegon not there anymore?”

Aemond shakes his head, taking a long sip of wine before speaking again. “Helaena’s currently overseas in Qarth, doing a conservation study on some sort of beetle. Aegon’s gone to Braavos, he’s decided a life by the sea suits him better now that he’s sober.”

“Aegon’s sober?!”

“Yeah, it surprised me too. Apparently his drinking got quite a lot worse after I was put away. Mother finally had enough and forced him back to rehab. It stuck this time.”

“Good for him. I’m pleased.”

“Hmm. Enough about my family, I want to know all about your new job. Tell me everything.”

Over the next few hours, they fall into effortless conversation, and as one bottle of wine turns into two, it’s easy to forget the nature of their unusual relationship, it feels as though she’s chatting with an old friend.

She tells him all about the freelance work she’s undertaken over the last few years, as well as how she found herself with a job offer from Gold Cloak. They chat about music, films, share jokes and anecdotes, though always careful to avoid mention of Aemond’s incarceration or anything related to it. Aemond is witty, oddly charming and fiercely intelligent, if she hadn't interviewed him in the wake of his nephew’s murder then she could definitely see him as someone she’d be attracted to.

As she drains her final glass of wine, the second empty bottle calling out like a beacon that it’s time to go home, she feels fuzzy headed, her eyes and limbs heavy.

Oh shit, I’m drunk.

She stumbles as she rises from her seat, and Aemond places a steadying hand on her arm, the warmth she sees in his smile as he looks down at her taking her breath away. He looks nothing like a killer, just an ordinary man.

“Come on,” he says, offering her his arm, “I’ll walk you home.”

It doesn’t occur to her to ask how he knows where she lives as he walks her back to her block of flats. Her mind feeling thick from the effects of the wine, she doesn’t resist when he leans down, his lips pressing against hers as he steps her backwards over the threshold of her front door.

He dominates the kiss, the taste of red wine upon his lips potent and sweet. He holds her tight against him, his mouth devouring hers. Their movements are needy and desperate as her hands help to push his jacket from his shoulders and it drops to the floor, along with her laptop bag, with a soft thump. It’s enough to temporarily break her out of her passionate haze and she pulls back reluctantly, her voice a shaky whisper.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Hmmm, and yet it’s happening anyway,” he replies huskily, his hand coming to rest at the back of her neck as he kisses her hungrily once more, his tongue licking greedily at hers.

Every part of her mind that is screaming at her to stop is silenced by his lips, all sense and inhibitions dulled by alcohol. Having been career focused for so long, her love life has taken a backseat, she can’t remember the last time anyone touched her like this. It’s exhilarating to feel wanted, desired, and so she loses herself in the sensation, her mouth moving against his with equal enthusiasm as they stumble back towards the sofa.

He presses her into the plushness of the cushions, the pair of them hastily kicking off their shoes, before he settles on top of her. He trails hot, open mouthed kisses over her jaw and neck, before bringing a hand to the front of her blouse, a quick flick of his wrist tears it open, sending buttons clattering onto the glass top surface of the nearby coffee table.

Before she is able to protest, she is silenced once more by the feel of his mouth upon her, lavishing attention to the swell of her breasts, visible over the tops of the cups of her bra. How is he able to do that, to obliterate all of her thoughts through mere touch alone? It’s dizzying, and her breaths quicken, turning to soft pants as his path continues downwards, leaving a blazing trail in its wake as he shifts his lips to her stomach. His hands roughly tug down her leggings, as he pulls away, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder once they’re all the way off.

As he rests on his haunches over her, she is painfully aware of the imbalance; he kneels before her, fully dressed, while she is beneath him in just her underwear. She squirms slightly in embarrassment, feeling her skin grow heated.

It’s as if he’s able to read her mind, his lips twitching with the ghost of a smirk as his seeing eye stares her down, darkened with arousal. Grabbing the hem of his shirt he tugs it up over his head, allowing it to follow the same path her leggings had.

She feels her core throb with want as her gaze travels down his bare torso. Lean, lithe hardened muscle defines his chest and abdomen in a way that she has only ever seen before in Grecian statues. He descends upon her again, not giving her the opportunity to admire him for long, covering her body with his own as he captures her lips again, his teeth nipping delicately at her bottom lip.

His knee nudges its way between her legs, pushing against her through the lace of her knickers, and she whines into the kiss, her mind immediately racing back to all the times his knee had bumped hers during their interviews. Is this what he’d wanted all along? The idea makes her pulse thrum and her blood run hot. It’s sick and twisted, but she can’t find herself to care, not when the friction of his actions feels so agonisingly addictive.

His lips pull away from hers, and his hand snakes between their bodies, taking up the space his knee had occupied until just a moment ago. He cups her mound through the fabric of her underwear, humming in satisfaction as she bucks her hips against his palm, chasing the pressure his knee had given her.

“Eager little thing,” he whispers darkly, hooking a finger into the elastic of her gusset and tugging it to one side.

It isn’t until the coolness of the air hits her bare flesh that she realises just how wet she is, and she’d feel ashamed were it not for the fact she can see Aemond’s pupil dilate at the sight of it.

He teases the pads of his fingers through her folds, spreading the stickiness of her arousal from her sensitive bud to her opening and back again. Her breath hitches at the sensation, every nerve ending in her body feeling as though it’s aflame.

“You’re soaking,” he murmurs, eye flickering up to meet hers.

She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can get the words out, he’s bringing his fingers away from her core and pushing them past her lips and into her mouth. She mewls around his digits at the tart taste of herself upon her tongue, and as he takes her hand, bringing it forward to cup the hardness of him through his trousers, she finds herself sucking on them, palming at him eagerly simultaneously.

He groans quietly, pressing himself against her touch. “Good girl.”

Withdrawing his fingers from her mouth and swatting her hand away gently, he unbuckles his belt, leaning back over her as he unbuttons and unzips his trousers, pushing them down along with his boxers just enough to free his erection.

She cannot see it, but the feel of it, heavy and leaking, pressing against her entrance is enough to have her walls clenching, eager to take him inside. The initial stretch to accommodate him as he presses forward causes them both to sigh softly in unison, his brows furrowing with exertion as he pushes all the way in to the hilt. The fullness of it makes her ache, and she rolls her hips impatiently, desperate for him to move.

“So needy,” he chastises quietly.

“Please,” is all she’s able to whimper in response.

His hand moves to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair and gripping it tightly. He holds her in place, so she has no choice but to look at him as he drags his hips back before snapping them forward again.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

She should stop this, they’ve gone too far already, but the buzz of the wine is still coursing its way through her, and with every brush of the head of his cock against the sensitive spot deep inside of her, the urge to put an end to what’s happening rapidly fades.

Her legs tangle with his, as she meets him thrust for thrust. He is slow to withdraw, but quick to slam forward again, driving him impossibly deep into her. His grip on her hair and the forced eye contact make it almost too much to bear. The intensity with which he looks at her, studies the contortions of pleasure her features morph into, is torturous, yet she never wants it to end.

Clinging to him tightly, her fingernails dig crescent moons into the flesh of his shoulder blades, his jaw beginning to slacken as with every push forward she feels him pulsate. He’s getting close, and she is too, the tell tale tensing of her thighs and quivering inside of her letting her know she’s edging closer to her peak.

She is desperate to turn her face away, not wanting to be staring directly into his eye as she falls apart, but Aemond’s grip on her hair is iron clad, she cannot move her head. With one last push forward, she tightens and spasms around him, a broken cry escaping her as she stares at him, eyes wide and brows knitted together as warm waves of pleasure ripple through her.

Something akin to a growl rumbles in Aemond’s throat, and she feels him still, knowing he’s about to reach his own end. Not wanting her own ecstasy to be short lived by him pulling out, she is quick to reassure him in a breathy whisper.

“I’m on the pill.”

“I know,” he groans, before letting go, spilling himself inside of her with a grunt. He lets go of her hair, burying his face into the crook of her neck as his body shudders, his length twitching and pulsing within her sensitive heat.

They remain tangled together for a few moments, both breathing heavily as they attempt to recover and slowly come back down to earth. As the blissful fog begins to lift, she is struck by a realisation.

I know.

“How do you know I’m on the pill?” She asks, her voice quiet and hoarse.

Aemond lays quiet for a moment, his breaths warm and moist against the flesh of her neck as they calm. When he eventually pulls back and looks at her, there’s something different in the way he looks at her. His stare is cold, almost crazed, similar to what she had seen the day they’d first met in the visitors room of Dragonstone Prison.

“I know everything about you,” he says with a soft smile, that doesn’t play upon the rest of his features.

Her heart lurches in her chest, fear turning her blood icy, the effects of the wine disappearing entirely as she’s left starkly sobered.

“What do you mean?” She asks quietly.

He hums thoughtfully, brushing her hair away from her face in a gesture that could be considered affectionate, were it not for the sudden change in atmosphere.

“I suppose there’s no point in keeping secrets, not now we know each other so…intimately,” he muses. “I enjoyed our talks together, I wanted them to continue, but when it became clear to me that that wasn’t reciprocated, I needed a way to continue to keep in touch. So I had you watched, followed, everything you did was reported back to me. It’s made the last five years more bearable still having a connection to you. It’s been better still being able to keep tabs myself over the last few weeks.”

Tears prickle her eyes, a wave of nausea sweeping over her. “You’re sick!”

“Am I?” He asks, cocking his head as he strokes her hair absentmindedly. “Or is that you? Because for me, our little tryst seems perfectly normal, an inevitability, considering my interest in you. However, for you, you barely know me. I’m someone you interviewed half a decade ago, and you opened your legs for me the very same day I happened to make you aware I was back in your life. I’d say that makes you a whore.”

“Get off!” She cries, squirming beneath him, attempting to push him off. The thought that his softening member is still nestled within her has her reeling with disgust. He is stronger than she is though, and refuses to budge, keeping her right where she is, as he grips her jaw tightly, forcing her to look at him.

“Behave,” he hisses, “you’ve seen what happens to people who anger me. You sat through an entire trial for it.”

“That was manslaughter,” she says in a trembling voice, a tear trickling down her cheek.

“That’s what I was sentenced for, yes, but I’ll tell you a secret…I saw Lucerys, and I drove my car towards him anyway.”

He laughs softly, as he gazes down at her, her eyes widened in horror, as her chest heaves. “His expression was rather similar to yours, actually, when he realised what was about to happen.”

“You’re a murderer,” she sobs, frantically trying to push him off of her.

“Oh, darling,” he soothes mockingly, “but you did such a wonderful job of portraying me as otherwise.”

“What are you going to do to me?!” She asks, panic fluttering acridly up from her chest and into her throat.

“Nothing at all, if you don’t overreact. Don’t get any funny ideas about going to the police either.”

“What?!”

“I don’t think your career could withstand such an enormous blunder, not a second time anyway. Imagine how that would look, the second time you’ve painted a criminal as a saint, and not only that but this time you’ve slept with him. That would be quite the fall from grace.”

He pins her wrists above her head, though all the fight has left her, she sags beneath him, hot tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “I can’t believe this…”

“Believe it,” he hisses. “You’ve built your career on the back of me, and I think it’s about time you repay the favour. For five years you’ve enjoyed success, all thanks to me, while I rotted in prison. You owe me.”

“What do you want from me?” She asks weakly.

“Nothing I haven’t had already,” he tells her, leaning down to run the tip of her nose against her cheek. “Be sweet to me, and I’ll be sweet to you, because if you try to take me down over this, I can guarantee you have much more to lose than I do.”

Her stomach turns, her eyes closing in defeat. There is no escape from this, she simply has to accept her fate or endure mutually assured destruction.

Aemond’s expression has softened when she opens her eyes again. His hands move from her wrists to her hands, entwining their fingers. “There she is,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “No more tears now, you’ll spoil all the fun we’re going to have together.”

This is a nightmare, This is a nightmare. Wake up.

As she feels him harden inside of her once more, the heartbreaking realisation that she’s not dreaming settles over her. This is a waking nightmare, and it’s only just beginning.

Part two || Series masterlist

294 notes · View notes

dovveri · 5 months ago

Text

aftermath

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 5 ▸ part 6

synopsis: the finale! and then the afterparty :')

warnings: suggestive, cursing, sana kisses a fictional man im sorry

w/c: 2.9k

a/n: surprise! double feature release! bcs theyre both quite short compared to the other chapters and i lwk just wanted to close this series and be done with it - im v happy w and vvvv grateful for all the support ive received w this - it was my first ever published fic and 36.7k words later im pretty happy w how it ends :)) stay healthy and safe!! mwah <3

⊱✿⊰

true to her word, sana ended up telling everyone that she had gained feelings for you during the filming experience. you had wanted to go with her but she insisted it would be easier for those who had gained feelings for her to accept it if you weren't there. so you were stuck at home, twiddling your thumbs watching reruns of the last few episodes anxiously waiting for her to come home.

you're up in seconds when you hear the door click open softly, rushing to greet her.

"hey! how'd they take it?"

sana's a little surprised to see you in such a hurry, but recovers quickly, smiling and tilting your chin down to peck you sweetly.

"hello to you too. they were okay." you help her organise her things as she settles in, "jihyo was obviously eliminated after house visits like i promised i'd do. i still have a soft spot for her but it was easier to talk to the other three when she wasn't there, probably because i could get my entire story across uninterrupted. unfortunately, jiwon decided to forfeit herself after the news which she has every right to do. the producers are going to mark it off as a family emergency and say she can no longer participate in the filming."

"oh... and the other two?"

"momo took it pretty hard, but jacky seemed to already have a clue what was going on. they both agreed to stay on until the end of the season though. i still feel terrible for having to put them through this, especially the last 2 dates with each of them, knowing that they don't have a chance with me anymore..."

"hey, it's okay. they agreed to stay right? they're being good friends right now and feeling bad or sorry for them and not giving it your all for the last few days isn't going to be helpful for them."

she sighs, "you're right. after all this craziness is over i'll definitely try and do something for them."

you smile, pecking her temple, "and i'll help you."

⊱✿⊰

because there were no more group dates, and the season would end after the final 2 dates and the decision sana makes, you weren't really needed for the filming of the rest of the season.

so most of your time was spent at home, lounging around in the pool or in the kitchen while sana was out on extravagant dates not with you, and completely bored out of your mind.

at nights, you'd bound excitedly up to sana and find out what adventure she went on, completely attached to her, even sitting on top of the toilet seat while she was in the shower so you were never apart. the seperation anxiety for just a few hours was definitely something that caught you a little off guard but after spending practically every minute together while filming, combined with your newfound romantic love for her, you couldn't bear being apart from her.

soon enough, the final day of filming came. it was set in this beautiful meadow with flower strands that reached mid-calf. sana was in the most perfect sundress, like she belonged in the meadow, like she was aphrodite herself born not from the sea, but the flowers.

typically, the final choice is snapped together with flashy editing between tension building scenes of sana walking up to both of the final contestants in two different settings. they filmed her rejection shot the day before already, so there wasn't much suspense watching as sana walked through the meadow towards her final choice. not that there needed to be, you were enthralled enough just being able to take in the breathtaking view that was minatozaki sana, just imagining it was you she was walking gently towards.

but it wasn't. and the mindless chatter of the cameras and crew served to remind you that again, you had to stand in the background while the love of your life confessed to someone that wasn't you. no amount of reassurance from her would be able to get the feeling of utter despair out of you.

⊱✿⊰

sana walks forward with a gentle, rehearsed smile.

"hi."

"hey sana."

"how are you feeling?"

"could be better. i'm either about to have my heart broken in front of the entirety of korea and my family back home or i'm about to be able to call the most beautiful girl on the planet my girlfriend. pretty big moment."

sana giggles, "welll... jacky... regardless of the outcome-"

"oooooh that word's not a great sign is it?"

she hushes him, "shhh, just let me finish. jacky... the time on this show, the time you've given me, has been absolutely incredible. from the first time i met you with your charming smile and lively wit, it was hard to forget your dual entrance with eunji, both of you looking absolutely dapper in your suits. and then on our individual date, you dared to go on that hot air balloon at the asscrack of dawn to watch the sunrise with me, and even though i'm not totally sure if you did see it or not, the fact that you went up there, and you overcame that fear, it was so inspiring and courageous of you. it was that moment that really made me realise the kind of person you were, and the courage, and fun you'd bring into a relationship, and even to a family in the future. that is... if you wanted to officially become my boyfriend?" she finishes her piece with a shy smile, a strand of hair falling cinematically over her face while she peers up at him under her eyelashes.

jacky gapes a little, and then he's grinning, hoisting her up in a whoop and spinning her around on the spot, stopping finally to plant his lips on hers.

when they break apart, they both have the widest smiles on their faces, eyes glowing in adoration of each other.

"yes! yes of course i'd be honoured sana! i hope to spend the rest of our lives together until we grow old and wrinkly and our kids have to come dote on us in the retirement home while we annoy them with how unbelievably cute we are even in our old age. and i look forward to watching reruns of our season and being able to show our kids how absolutely gorgeous their mom looked and how incredibly lucky i got being able to be the one at the end of it all!"

there are happy tears and more kisses, hugs, and spins, and with that, the bachelorette season for 2024, is officially over.

⊱✿⊰

"eugh, did you seriously kiss him?"

sana throws the popcorn at you playfully, "yes but it was all planned babe and you're a way better kisser anyway."

"show me."

"oh i will." sana grins, sliding into your lap, pushing the bag of popcorn aside, lips immediately finding yours while the credits for the final bachelorette episode run in the background.

you smile into the kiss, hands finding their place naturally on her waist while her hands cup your face, tilting her head slightly to angle the kiss better.

she breaks away with an over-exaggerated smack that has you rolling your eyes and wiping at your lips in mock disgust.

"so now that the final episode is out... are we allowed to be seen in public together yet?" you're voice is whiny, pleading with her.

she coos, "my little babyy, i thought you weren't big on pda?"

"well i'm not but i'm sick of everyone thinking that you're with someone that's not me!"

sana giggles, "just think how this is for jacky right now. poor eunji..."

you scoff, "eunji will be fine. she's never been one to care about what the public thinks anyway."

"everyone says that but no-one is immune to societal pressure." she boops your nose with her finger gently, "but to answer your question, yes. we'll be able to go public soon i promise. and soon enough the tabloids will get bored of me and move on to the next big celebrity or whatever anyways so it'll be fine. now c'mon, we gotta get ready for the reunion, get your cute lil butt into your fit for the night."

you groan, pulling her back down when she tries to move off of you, "nooooo one more movie?"

sana laughs, pushing you out of her neck, "absolutely not. i'm not gonna be the only star for tonight, this time we're both gonna be the centre of attention, and we cannot be late! i swear if we don't get ready now you're sleeping here on the couch tonight."

"what?! you wouldn't!"

"i would."

"you couldn't survive without cuddles anyway."

"i can replace you with mr. bean."

"not my arch nemesis... i knew winning that bear for you was a bad decision... i'll rip off his stuffed head..."

sana laughs freely, "as if winning was a decision for you. you went back to that stall like 6 times."

"i should've left him there the 5th time..."

"nope! so if you don't want me getting all close and personal with him tonight you're gonna come get ready now with no funny business."

she stands up and you let her, your hands still attached as she pulls you up as well.

you smirk, "what funny business? i never pull any funny business!"

"yeah like the time you fucked me in a bathroom while everyone was waiting for us outside to start filming for national television. and then did it again at a public amusement park like a week later."

"i don't recall you saying no."

"well i'm saying no funny business now."

"okaaaaaayyyyy." you grin, fingers crossed behind your back while you follow her to your room to get dressed.

⊱✿⊰

"y/n!"

"miyeon oh my god!"

miyeon's running towards you with her arms outstretched, easily wrapping them around you the moment she sees you.

you laugh into her, hand still held in sana's while you greet her.

"sana too hi!"

miyeon breaks away from you easily, going in to hug your girlfriend with her everlasting friendliness.

"how are you guys!? i heard through the grapevine that after the filming ended you were finally able to get together officially, even though you kinda had to keep it on the down low so it wasn't like publicly official but it's a step further?"

you laugh, "awwwh yeah you heard right, but now that the show is officially over..." you bring you and sana's intertwined hands up to your lips, kissing her knuckles, "we can say we're officially together!"

miyeon squeals happily, "yay! i'm so happy for both of you. really. no jealousy sana?"

sana laughs as well, hitting miyeon playfully, "noo don't remind me."

"oh i'm afraid it's permanent now. unless they burn every single copy of this season the day you broke my heart is forever recorded in history."

"oh god... y/n... swear to me you'll never show this to our kids."

"can't do that babe. gotta show them their mom in her prime. the sweetheart of korea at one point in her life."

"just one point?"

"sweetheart of mine for my whole life obviously."

sana grins, kissing you cheesily, miyeon doesn't even mind, simply happy to see both her friends together.

"are jacky and eunji here?" you ask miyeon when you break away with a smile.

"i haven't seen them but i also haven't said hi to everyone yet. c'mon let's go!" she leads you into the garden where the party's being hosted.

you and sana are attached by the hip, if one of you has to let go of the other's hand, another body part will eventually replace it, your skin contact is constant, never parting from one another while you greeted all the old contestants.

some were still a little surprised to see that sana had come with you in hand and not with jacky, but she explained what happened patiently, apologising for the confusion.

"jacky! eunji!" sana spots them first, calling them out.

you grin at the sight of them, wearing matching suits, hand in hand, waving them down.

"hey couple of the hour! how are you guys faring tonight?"

"oh says you. finally got the girl jacky?"

jacky blushes, "crazy how things turned out right? just two sets of best friends realising they're in love with each other and not the person they're both dating. kinda lucky it turned out that way so we could fake that finale sana. it's just a shame for momo..."

"yeah i felt terrible especially after all she did with that home visit in japan. but i talked to her after filming ended and we actually get along really well as friends, we have so much more in common and so much more to talk about when we're not in a controlled environment like the filmset!"

"you guys talking about me?"

you turn in a flash, surprised but excited to see momo coming up behind you.

"momoring!"

sana goes in for a hug first, which momo gladly returns with a giggle.

"hi everyone. it's nice to see you all again outside of the filming."

"of course! it's great to see you again too. how have you been holding up?"

"oh alright. i was contacted already to be on the next season of bachelor in paradise which is always just a massive orgy i swear, so i won't be going on, but i heard jiwon accepted a place!"

sana pouts, "i hope jiwon's okay... she's the only finalist i haven't talked to since breaking the news. i thought it'd be too soon to reach out to her after she left..."

"you talked to me right?" momo playfully nudges sana's shoulder, "jiwon's doing better. she's happy for you both, really. and she's getting her second chance so there's really nothing she's complaining about."

sana smiles gratefully, "i'm glad."

momo turns her attention to the other couple, "and jacky, eunji! i can't believe you guys got together in the end! i mean i was pretty oblivious in the house but nayeon always swore there was something between you two. guess she was right."

eunji laughs, "it came as a surprise to the both of us as well. i guess we just spent so much time together in the house that it was a lot like old times and then when seeing each other go off with sana and realising we weren't jealous of each other but jealous of sana, well that did it!"

"this entire thing is honestly just a mess of feelings. i don't know how you guys do it as contestants. i had a hard enough time not even being a part of the competition."

"to be fair you did kinda insert yourself in pretty heavily when you started sleeping with sana."

"hey!"

there's laughs and teasing all round. the night goes on like this, in the company of people you've grown easily close to in a very short amount of time, and holding hands with the woman you fell in love with.

⊱✿⊰

"sana, y/n, can i steal you both for a minute?"

you both turn, surprised to see jihyo there, looking a little sheepish. you squeeze sana's hand, looking to her for confirmation. she nods, clearing her throat, "yeah. sure jihyo."

jihyo leads you to a quieter clearing, then stands in front of the both of you, eyes on the ground, awkwardly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"i just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i acted the last time we saw each other. i was jealous and petty for bringing sungbin and i wanted to throw sana off her game so that she'd admit she was in love with you on national television. i went into it wanting to embarass sana and i'm sorry."

sana sighs, gripping your hand reassuringly, "we know. it's okay jihyo. i'm sorry about how it went down between us. i do hope you find the right person one day."

jihyo looks up then, "thank you. really. and it probably doesn't mean a lot coming from me but i am glad the two of you ended up finding each other. she makes you happier than i've ever seen you sana. i genuinely hope for all the best for the both of you."

"thank you jihyo." sana smiles at you then, and you return it softly. "she does make me really happy."

"after some time... maybe you could both come by again? my siblings and my parents miss you lots and i'd like to make it up to both of you for the last time you were there."

"we'd love to. thank you jihyo."

jihyo smiles gratefully, bowing and leaving the two of you alone.

sana sighs, turning to you and looping her arms around your neck.

"you okay?"

she hums, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against yours. "never better."

you giggle, stealing a quick kiss, "the headlines are gonna get pretty crazy once they get wind of the current couples."

"let them have their drama. all i need is you."

"cheesy."

"you love it."

"i love you."

"i love you too." she grins, bringing you into another kiss, sealing the love you have for each other between your lips.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #twice sana x reader #twice imagines #twice x reader #sana imagines #dovveri

182 notes · View notes

nurse-floyd · 4 months ago

Text

Grounded

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Anon Request: “hey there, i felt rly represented by your autistic!reader x daniel and was wondering if i’d be able to request something myself, if you’d be up for it? i get really overwhelmed easily, i get upset super easily too, it’s honestly embarrassing. i feel like daniel would be good at reassurance, and would cuddle to help out and keep me calm. do you think you’d be able to write anything like that?”

Warnings: mentions of autism/ panic attacks/ anxiety. This is my own interpretation and experience with autism/ being ND so it may vary from others. This story is fiction and meant to be enjoyed xoxo

You walked hand in hand through the paddock entrance with Daniel by your side. Media day was always hectic and overwhelming; the noise, the flashing lights, and the sheer volume of media and fans were overwhelming. You knew it would be busy, but the reality of it was just too much for you that day, your senses already wrecked from the lack of sleep due to all the traveling. The chaos sent anyone’s senses into overdrive. You tried to focus on Daniel’s presence, his hand gripping yours tightly, but with the sheer amount of noise and activity around you, it was difficult to concentrate.

You tried to stay calm, reminding yourself that you were there for Daniel, hoping that would be enough for you to push through the discomfort. But as the noise built and the crowd closed in, it became harder to focus. The world felt smaller, your heart rate quickened, and your breathing became shallow as the anxiety threatened to overwhelm you completely. You hated feeling like this, hated not feeling normal, and hated feeling like you were drawing attention to yourself.

Daniel had always been understanding; he was patient and kind and always knew when things were becoming too much for you, sometimes even before you did. As the media frenzy closed in, you felt the familiar signs of overload creeping in.

Daniel noticed immediately. His grip tightened around your hand as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He leaned in closer to your body, his voice low in your ear. “You doing okay?” he asked, concern evident in his tone.

You shook your head, unable to voice your needs with the world feeling like it was closing in around you. The flashes from the cameras felt like they were burning your eyes, and you instinctively pulled your jacket over your eyes to block out some of the world. The anxiety was too strong, and the words got caught in your throat. But Daniel understood without you having to say anything. His arms moved around your shoulders as he guided you quickly towards a quieter corner of the paddock, waving and thanking the media as he led you away.

He found a relatively calm area near the team’s garage, away from the worst of the noise and chaos. He sat you down and knelt at your level, his expression full of nothing but concern. “Can I touch you?” he asked. You nodded, and you felt his hand gently cup your face. "Just breathe," he said gently, his hands resting on your shoulders, grounding you. "In and out, nice and slow. Just focus on me.”

You met his soft brown eyes, focusing on his voice as you followed his instructions and took in a deep, shaky breath, mirroring his. The world started to blur into the background as you concentrated on your breathing and the reassuring weight of his hands.

"It's alright, take your time," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no judgment in his gaze, only understanding and patience. "I'm here with you. Just focus on me. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he said, his voice full of warmth and pride. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words of comfort brought a lump to your throat, a tear threatening to spill over. You hated feeling like this, hated the overwhelm and embarrassment that came after, but Daniel’s support and understanding helped you feel less alone. He didn’t see you as a burden or annoying; he accepted you for you.

Gradually, the tightness in your chest started to ease, and the sensory overload subsided a little. Daniel had always been so good at knowing exactly what you needed in those moments, never making you feel embarrassed or ashamed for being overwhelmed. He pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. You relaxed into the embrace, feeling the anxiety melt away.

"Thank you," you whispered into his chest, your voice barely audible. It was hard to express just how much his support meant to you, but you hoped he could feel it in the way you held onto him.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with warmth. "You don't have to thank me," he replied with a gentle smile. "I'm always here for you, no matter what."

You stayed in his arms for a few moments longer, the feeling helping to ground and regulate you a little more.

"Ready to give this another go?" he asked.

You were unsure but nodded. With his support, you knew you were safe no matter what happened, and he would always be there to help you navigate it all.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #beth writes #anon #request #anon request

102 notes · View notes

bloopitynoot · 1 year ago

Text

3 Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry

Okay so I read a LOT of shadowgast fanfics and I wanted to share some of the ones that made me absolutely weep. (I was going to wait until tomorrow but I got too excited to share).

All of these have some intense emotional distress, but I promise you all they may be angsty but they absolutely have happy endings.

They are all set in very different AU's, are hefty completed fics, and have similar feels!

1. the breathe before the phrase

(171513 words) by @kmackatie Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Summary: The ringing note of a concert A is played by the oboe, echoing on its own in the space. It’s picked up by the wind section, followed rapidly by the brass, and the familiar feeling of an orchestra calibrating takes over Caleb. The tonal adjustments as each person brings their instrument into alignment sinks into him and something inside Caleb shifts in recognition as Essek leads the strings into their own tuning. It’s like something is waking up, like something unfurling and firing across long-unused paths of memory. His hands shake slightly, as he raises his bow and joins them, fingers fumbling against the pegs and fine tuners that give him control over his instrument. ---- Essek Thelyss is a leading violinist, his spot as Shadowhand of the Rosohna Philharmonic Orchestra has been uncontested for over a decade. Caleb Widogast is a recent arrival to the city, convinced by his friends to audition for one of the vacant violinist positions. After starting off on the wrong foot, Caleb and Essek get to slowly know each other, discover what brings them joy, create while defying expectations, and find out that what they can produce together may just be better than anything they can do separately.

Why I cried: The amount of pressure put on Essek made my heart absolutely shatter. That plus the pinning between Caleb and Essek had me weeping. The hurt/comfort energy. The bad parent Dierta and of course past Caleb Ickythong trauma healing. Other than the story itself Katie has put so much energy into explaining the music, the playlist is stunning, and the inspiration for the played pieces in the fic are grounded in actual compositions. No spoilers, but the ending is gorgeous <3

2.Till Human Voices Wake us

(66080 words) by @ariadne-mouse Chapters: 23/23 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Merman!Caleb, no Mighty Nein but otherwise canon setting/events, Neutral evil Essek, Essek-typical anxiety and fatalism, Loneliness, Hurt/Comfort, spooky gothic vibes, some horror and disturbing imagery, the ocean as a threat/love language, Illustrations, drowning themes Summary: Essek Thelyss, lonely and ambitious prodigy, comes to Nicodranas to make a risky gamble with the Assembly. At the water’s edge, he finds himself swept up in another dangerous entanglement he can't seem to escape — and as time goes on, he's less and less sure he wants to. Will his treasonous alliance or the sea itself devour him first? (Or, the one where Caleb is a merman.)

Why I cried: okay so look, this story was so fucking sad I can't even begin to describe it. The love and longing between the two, the tragic backstory for Caleb. Treason = death for Essek (it's a happy ending though so do not worry, but I definitely worried so you don't have to LOL). It also has some stunning art in it!!!

3. what luminous worlds await

what luminous worlds await (178674 words) by @essektheylyss Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Champion of the Luxon AU, Alternate Universe - Future, Space Opera, Religious Conflict, religious trauma, Violence, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Dreams vs. Reality, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Fictional Religion & Theology, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mention of Using Sex as Self-Harm, several immortals grapple with loss while trying to save the world, so so many liberties taken with consecution, this wouldn't be a problem if you'd EXPLAIN matthew mercer, and/or if a certain drow would give literally any straight answers, (I mean he can't give straight answers when he's not straight), Background Fjorester (Past), Post-Canon, …very post-canon Summary: “You seek my nature. It is a lonely endeavor. Would you like to join me on this path?” “Yes.” — After a thousand years, a divine champion awakes in a lightless cave above Port Damali with little memory to speak of and a beacon in his hands. Even as he struggles to piece the past together and process what he has lost while he slept, the future demands he answer for the crimes of his elders. It offers little in return, but perhaps there are fragments of possibility awaiting him.

Why I cried: Omg oh boy, this one made me BIG cry- honestly one of my favourite fics I have read so far. A true space opera, a story of love, in many forms, over time, space, and multiple lives. I sobbed from chapter one literally until the end. Though I think you will need an A03 account to read this one, but it is worth the wait to set one up. My partner watched me cry so much while I read this. I totally did download and save this fic to send to pals so they can cry with me. It is worth the agony for this happy ending. I might still be crying LOL

#for the shadowgast shippers #shadowgast #shadowgast recs #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #cr m9 #mighty nein #critical role #honestly some of them I sobbed while explaining the premise to my partner because I have a lot of feelings #these are all worth the length

211 notes · View notes

sunsbleeding · 23 days ago

Text

“I think I’ll just stay with her till I get my birthday presents”, she laughs, sounding more pig than human. I nod along as she continues, “she such a freak she just stares at the wall all day”, I bite my tongue, because saying the wrong thing would get her all despondent and quiet. Agree or be ignored, just like the shadow of my mother and her silent treatments.

But the thing is I used to just stare at the wall all day too, for whole weeks actually. I’d be so depressed that the heaviness in my stomach would anchor me to my bedspread; nothing to do but watch the sun change shape over the walls as it sank. I did this in high school a few months before the hazy night my life was supposed to end. The EMTs refused to let me choose though. Stuffed my soul back in my body and wiped vomit off my face and chest with those cheap paper towels you usually only find in gas station bathrooms.

When we talked ill of her girlfriend I should have said “well you’re using her, you’re manipulating her, you don’t respect her boundaries, you date a wizard created by a terf in your head, and to top it all off you’re in love with a man that lives in LA, for God sakes you write poetry about him for her to see (and laugh when it’s the only poem she doesn’t heart), you make out with me and tell me not to tell her, you can keep her on a leash if she doesn’t know you lie”

So you go, scurry on putrid rat and tell MY stories to your “friends” but boy do I have tales to tell about you, and none of them are even remotely funny or interesting or complex, because you are not any of those things. The stories are just snippets of a girl who was and always will be a boring beige wall of a person, spineless, dreamless, talentless and going nowhere bright. Couldn’t even sign up for university classes properly my ass, you’re just too lazy with a lack of comprehension or a knack for learning about anything that matters. I went through all of university without the money for therapy, without meds for my anxiety or depression, or a diagnosis for my ADHD. You have all the help in the world afforded to you and you still choose to do nothing with your life. Pathetic. You wouldn’t have enough time to read fan fiction anyways so it’s better you just study that, since it’s the only thing you’re remotely good at.

You tell them about your addict, child molested, depressed ex-best friend, who’s seen the world, experienced so much life, built a dream into something tangible, made money you took full advantage of, finished university (it’s not for everyone and that’s okay but let’s be honest you’d rather read smut some horny weirdo on the internet made up than learn about anything real, meaningful or socially relevant).

This all has taught me that I have real friends and supporters in my circle, I have people that’ll sit with me in the bathroom while I’m having a panic attacks. Celebrate being even five days clean. Ask me if I’m okay if I look spaced out (dissociating is something I deal with).

Because of this I remembered I have passions, and taste, and empathy (the word you skipped when you were reading the dictionary). I’ll tell them about you, a waste of space nobody who feeds off the energies of the pretty or cool or interesting girls around her because she hasn’t got a thing going for herself. I have pity for the things you went through but you can only use your trauma as an excuse to be a bad person for so long…. You are a mooch, a liar, a dull woman with the media literacy of an incel and the brainpower of a rock. (Maybe you did do too many whippets in LA smh)

Having a best friend is awesome, having any type of relationship with a delusional psycho narcissist is something I’m done with.

#I guess I’m not quite done being mad #text #journal #narcissistic personality disorder #is what she has #not a people pleaser…..

21 notes · View notes

katuschka · 5 months ago

Text

Olalla – Chapter Five

Josh Kiszka x female OC

9.483 words

I once again apologise for the delay. I though it would be easy to write this chapter, but it was much harder than I expected.

To everyone who's followed the story and even left likes or comments: Thank you SO much! I appreciate it immensely.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunkedness and hangover, language, angst, mentions of cheating (retrospective), attempts at suicide (mentioned), fluff, both mental and physical trauma, injury, mention of blood, panic and anxiety, survival mode

Taglist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter Olalla masterlist

I know you think you'd never be mine

Well, that's okay, baby, I don't mind

That shy smile's sweet, that's a fact

Go ahead, I don't mind the act

Here you come all dressed up for a date

Well, one more step and it'll be too late

Blue, blue ribbon in your hair

Like you're so sure I'll be standing here

(Bruce Springsteen)

Agnieszka

Several seconds passed and we still just stood there, looking at each other, neither of us knowing what to do next, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I didn’t wait for him to enter, I didn’t even gesture to him to follow me, I just let the door open. Moving across the room, I felt his gaze on my back as I fluffed the pillows on my couch just to keep my hands occupied, before I went looking for shot glasses in my kitchenette. We clearly needed a drink.

I looked over my shoulder to see him still standing in the doorway, playing with the hem of his shirt and with his brows knit together. There was a silent plea in his eyes, but I didn’t know what he pleaded for. I didn’t want to psychoanalyze his troubled mind. Mine was reeling too, and the ball was on his court, so to speak, so I didn’t say anything else and just waited for him to make the next move. I deserved it. I wanted answers.

I didn’t really believe what the article said. It was probably yet another tabloid bullshit. I didn’t know him well enough, obviously. But I’ve let him get close enough to me to know how he was in those moments of bare intimacy, and he was nothing but considerate. All the time. He made sure I felt safe. So it had to be a lie.

But there were things that he didn’t want to tell me, even though I had asked, and that’s why he found me in tears when he came back from his room. A singer. Well, it made sense. I needed to know why he didn’t want me to know him. I felt like he already knew everything about me, so it wasn’t fair. I gave in at last and I turned around to face him again, impatient, because the silence was unnerving.

“Stop acting like I should be afraid of you all of the sudden…unless I should. Should I?”

“No,” he mumbled and finally stepped inside, closing the door silently. “I need to know that you’re not.”

“I’m not,” I assured him. Silence. If I had learned anything about him from the last few days, it was the fact he was at a loss for words when troubled. Otherwise he wouldn’t shut up. I watched him swallow hard, but not a single syllable came out. I caved in and tried to lighten the mood. “I’m pretty sure Bartek sent me the link primarily to let me know that you like dicks…which I already know, so I’m not shocked by that,” I snickered, making him huff through his nose. It eased the tension a little, but only for a second. “But you still have some explaining to do.”

He sat on the couch slowly and carefully. It was a bit funny, to watch him suddenly treating all my inanimate belongings as if they were made of sugar glass and he could shatter them with one rash movement. He looked around the room before he finally risked meeting my gaze again. “Any specifics that you want me to explain? Or just everything?”

I didn’t respond at first. Just a few hours ago, we were lying in bed naked, looking into each other’s eyes for long minutes as if they were windows to new, still unknown worlds. His certainly were. Now even a few seconds was too much. I quickly averted my eyes and turned back to my glass cabinet. He was still waiting for my reply when I joined him on the couch with two glasses and a full bottle of vodka. I poured two shots and handed him one. “Yeah, probably everything. You can start with why you didn’t tell me you’re some fucking rockstar or whatever. Pretending to be some ordinary guy…”

“I AM an ordinary guy!”

Said the man with a huge triangular pendant hanging around his neck and wrought beads decorating his long, braided hair. Unusually pretty AND quirky. I raised my eyebrow playfully, smiling at him, and he chuckled, which reminded me that I was in fact angry and should continue acting accordingly. “Why is it so difficult to be mad at you?”

“I’m a sweetheart,” he mumbled solemnly. “And I don’t want you to be mad at me. I gave you no reason, really. Does me being famous really change anything?”

I sighed heavily and drank my shot in a single gulp, motioning him to do the same, which he momentarily ignored. “ No…yes, because if that’s who you are, then yes. Are you the person from the article? If not, what happened? You wanted me to let you explain. I’m letting you. So tell me. Who are you and what’s this bullshit?”

Now it was his time to let out a heavy breath. “OK...alright…

“So, about my job…I didn’t tell you because the reason why I came here in the first place was to feel like an ordinary guy for a while. But obviously, not only does it keep haunting me, this shit only got worse since I arrived,” he paused for a moment and finally emptied his glass with a wince. I immediately refilled it and did the same with mine. He just gave me a nod of thanks, toying with his shot glass while trying not to spill anything, before he continued.

“I love my job, it’s exciting and rewarding and… I love to perform, and I love to travel the world, and I got some money, too… but it’s not always a bed of roses. you know? People treat you differently. They like the idea of you and don’t always bother to get to know the real you. Sometimes they’re even appalled by the possibility that you might not be perfect…which, of course, I’m not. Sometimes they just use you. At times, mainly when we’re on tour, it gets very lonely, even when you’re in a relationship�� that probably makes it even harder sometimes, actually…and, um,...so…”

“So?”

“So, this Dave, the guy who accused me, he was my mic tech. It was his first time with a band this big and his second daughter was born shortly before the tour started. Christopher couldn’t come with us and, in fact, I had barely seen him since New Year’s Eve. It had felt different for a while…anyway... One evening, we talked over a bottle of wine, me and David. He confessed to me that he felt lonely too…as well as a bit lost.”

“Lost?”

“Yeah, well… he in fact confessed that he felt lonely all the time, because he…actually…liked men. He just lived a VERY closeted life.”

I didn’t like where this was going, so I drank my second shot and he followed suit. “I know this is going to sound weird and insensitive, but please tell me he took advantage of you and not the other way round.”

He cleared his throat and pointed at my phone laying on the table. “Are you referring to the article?”

“Yes, obviously.”

He watched me refill our glasses one more time and laughed softly, the visible tension between his shoulder blades easing a bit. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“No, I’m trying to get us drunk. It’s a local custom in situations like these, and I think we both need it after everything that’s happened today. Cheers.” We clinked our glasses and poured the third round down our throats. I could feel my head spinning already, but it was a welcome feeling. It didn’t loosen the knot in my stomach, but at least the tension between the two of us seemed to dissipate, albeit slowly. He looked more relaxed, too. Maybe too much…I could literally see his mind going back to the afternoon’s event while he tried to intertwine his fingers with mine. It was written in his eyes. I crossed my arms on my chest protectively and leaned back.

“Answer my question, please.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. No, I didn’t take advantage of him. But certain things did happen that night, and it didn’t stop there. It felt good for a while. It had been a very busy couple of months, even to our standards, and I desperately needed to feel some human warmth. Also, I thought I was giving him something he hadn’t had before, which felt comforting, too…in a way. But then one morning, after two weeks or so, I woke up with guilt gnawing at my insides. I was supposed to facetime Christopher that day, because it was our anniversary, yet there was another man lying naked in my bed.”

Now it was his eyes that welled with tears, but he quickly wiped them with the tips of his fingers and tried to blink away the rest.

“I’m not proud of what happened. It was such a stupid thing to do, probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, because there were so many people involved. I tried to end it that day. I did, in fact. At first he pleaded, told me how he loved me and that we should be together... maybe even run away together. It felt like waking up from a drug-induced dream. It was completely insane. He was insane. He had kids... and because he didn’t seem to acknowledge that he had responsibilities at home, it felt as if it was me who hurt them all. And it was me, because I shouldn’t have let it happen. But it was too late…” His voice quivered a little and I wondered if I should say something, but this wasn’t the whole story and parts of it felt strangely familiar. I could feel the knot in my stomach tightening a bit more. ‘I think you’re just lonely…’ Followed by a kiss… I was half lost in my own thoughts, but he continued.

“David had some pictures that he took more or less without my knowledge, and when I told him that we should stop doing what we were doing, he sent them to Chris and even posted some of them on his Instagram. It was very suggestive. He even introduced me as his “new” boyfriend.”

“But you said he was married.”

“Yeah. As I said, completely insane. I’ve always cherished my privacy. I think some fans had suspected that me and Chris were a couple, but I never said anything publicly. About anything. David basically outed me. And Christopher, too… because people were suddenly speculating again about who the “old” boyfriend was. Of course it destroyed my relationship, that’s what Dave wanted. But he didn’t get what he wanted. I couldn’t even look at him again, because it also nearly ruined my relationship with my brother. You can imagine what mayhem those pictures caused, careerwise… I had to deal with some really nasty shit for a couple weeks. So he didn’t really impress me with that gesture,” he scoffed at last.

We sat in silence for a while. He looked as if a burden was taken from him, reclining on the couch now, with his head tilted back. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I watched him chewing his lip and watching my old crystal chandelier. He looked tired and a bit sad.

“But that’s not the whole story,” I finally broke the silence.

“No, that’s not. He lost his job, obviously. I thought it was over, I didn’t want to see him again, I grieved my own losses. This,” he pointed at my phone again, “this is news to me too. I learned about this just last week, shortly after it all happened. The day I arrived, basically. I didn’t know his wife left him, although that’s not surprising. I didn’t know he demonstratively tried to commit suicide just to get her back, and I didn’t know he finally accused me of sexual assault when it didn’t work… until Christopher called to tell me.” He finally stopped examining the cracks on my ceiling and looked at me again, frowning when he noticed the shift in my mood. “Why are you weeping again, Olalla?”

I tried to sort out my thoughts so that my response would make sense, but the truth is that I was a bit confused and overwhelmed by everything that happened. Most importantly, this wasn’t his past, it was his present, and I didn’t know what role I played in it, other than a momentary distraction. Just like this Dave… But apart from that, all those things he had said to me that slowly made me rethink my own life, they stopped making sense, bit by bit.

“You told me that you had no regrets, but you clearly regret this affair. Maybe I’m just wondering if you lied…”

He looked confused at first, but his features soon softened and he reached out his hand to caress my cheek. I tolerated the touch at first, but it was no longer comforting. There was something else behind those dark eyes, and I couldn’t decipher what it was. It made me even more anxious. There’s truth at the bottom of the bottle, they say, so I reached for it again. I pretended to be calm, but my insides were churning. We drank again before he replied.

“I said I don’t regret love, including lost love, but this wasn’t love, it was just sex. Everything that happened afterwards hurt Christopher and I regret that. I tried to explain that it meant nothing, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“I quite understand,” I replied bitterly.

“You do?”

I just gaped at him. He kept throwing daggers at me with each sentence. So this is what you think of me, you bastard. After everything that happened between us, after everything he had said and done, he managed to offend me with just two monosyllabic words.

“Yes, Joshua, I really do! I like sex, but I never cheated. Not once in my whole life. When I was with Dominik, there was no one else. He was my whole world. I just…didn’t care about other people.”

He nodded solemnly. “It was a bit different between us. There was always a huge difference between sex and affection. It was a matter of trust and I violated it, because I didn’t tell him. In the end, he only cared because it was with another man.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if I cheated on him with a woman, he wouldn’t care. Because he never did. He basically encouraged it when we started dating. It was me who stopped doing that eventually.”

“I don’t understand. What difference does it make?”

“He just knew that I would never love a woman.”

His words reverberated inside me with brutal force. My chest tightened and I could feel bile rising, and with it, my proverbial walls, brick by brick. I’m not a fool, and I was well aware that this romance was just a temporary thing, but so is life. I had been determined to spend the rest of mine without any more losses, but then he kissed me, and it felt as if the sun rose again after a long, arctic night. It changed me. When I let him undress me, I bared my soul to him. And when he touched me, he caressed my heart too. I bled all over his fingertips.

Dominik once told me that a minute spent with me was worth a thousand light years. When he died, I couldn’t look at the night sky for months. I felt robbed. I felt the universe mocking me, winking at me with cruel mischief. Our wounds and personal sorrows mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. I had thought we had years, and then he was suddenly gone in seconds, and with him love. Replaced by grief. I eventually embraced the numbness that followed, because it felt like a relief. There were days when I went as far as regretting that I had ever loved him.

Yesterday I realized that I might have been wrong. Joshua told me that we must not regret not forget love. Ever. I didn’t agree at first, I saw no benefits of loving anyone, but his lips on my skin reminded me of what it felt like to be loved. I had been so devastated by the loss of someone I loved that I forgot about everything Dominik gave me in return. And he had been right. Seen in retrospect, every minute spent with him felt longer than the last six years of my life. They just passed by.

The memory of him was no longer painful, not even bittersweet. I realized I wanted to cherish those memories. I finally reconciled myself to my previous loss and embraced the possibility of feeling loved again, only if for a moment.

It was never a possibility. It was only my wishful thinking. He deceived me. It only felt like love for a while, but probably only because he was a trickster.

Joshua’s hand on my shoulder suddenly brought me back from my reverie. I must have looked shaken. “Oh…no, I don’t mean…I just never met a woman I’d fall in love with and then he appeared and, like you said, you…I…Those were his words. And I…I didn’t mean…”

My hands started shaking. I didn’t even realize that I raised my voice when I interrupted him, practically shouting, sitting words at him in rapid cadence. “You didn’t mean what? You don’t mean to tell me that you would never love me? But you would never stop loving him, right? This is just a fling, hm? Fun and games to you, from the very beginning. Or maybe you can make yourself feel better by helping me. Well I don’t want that. You saw me cry…”

The rest of the sentence was lost in my choked sob, but truth be told, I didn’t even know what else to say, or why I should continue saying anything. I could see both confusion and terror in his eyes, and that made me feel even worse, because I was sure he noticed the pain in mine. I couldn’t let him see me like that. I couldn’t let him know what he did. I took a deep breath and rose from the couch. He kept watching me with a puppy face, but he had no right to feel wronged. He knew very well that if it was just about sex, I’d never hesitate. I told him too much. I felt used. I could overlook the fact that he wouldn’t tell me anything about his present life. I was going to. But I refused to be one of the girls who warm up his bed when he occasionally craves a pussy. I didn’t care to be one of those girls for other guys I slept with, because I didn’t care about them either. But this was different from the very start, and that’s why I both longed and feared to touch him ever since that evening in the garden. I pushed him away by showing him who I am and he came back with sweet words. Did he lure the others too into his embrace with litanies about love and no regrets? How many more broken hearts…?

I watched him still gazing at me. His expression was unreadable. I could feel the cogs in his head turning wildly, but not a word left his mouth. He missed his opportunity to explain. When he didn’t move, I went to the door and slowly opened it. “It’s getting late, Joshua. I think you should go.” I tried to keep a stern voice, but it betrayed me and the last word sounded almost like a whimper.

“Please, don’t do this Olalla, “ he whispered. “Please, don’t chase me away.”

“What do you want, Joshua?

“I…” He was no longer looking at me. With his head tilted down and his hands resting on his knees, he was searching for words as if they were scattered on the ground. I thought I already knew him well enough to know that if he couldn’t find them, they just weren’t there.

“Please, go.”

I watched him rise up from the couch clumsily and approach me slowly with an unsteady tread. He stopped in his tracks when he reached me, and tried to cup my cheek, but I swatted his hand away like an annoying fly. He blinked and inhaled shakily through his nose. “You’re a wonderful person. I want you to be happy.”

“Get lost then.”

I couldn’t tell if his eyes glistened with tears or from the alcohol, and I didn’t care. I was deliberately cruel. He turned to leave, then hesitated for a moment and looked at me again, with wide eyes and his mouth half open. He looked like a goldfish again, just like yesterday. Then suddenly, something in his expression changed. “I’ve no strength left in me to argue with you anymore. Quite judgmental, for someone who just sleeps around. This!,” he pointed a finger to where the malachite pendant rested right between my breasts: This is NOT just fun and games! Bitch…” he hissed and finally turned to leave. I closed the door slowly as soon as he crossed the threshold, yet it felt as if the whole house shook with it, before a gloomy silence engulfed it…and me. Not even his footsteps on the stairs disrupted it. Maybe he was still standing on the other side of the door, maybe he just didn’t want to be heard, granting me my final wish. He was lost. He disappeared. He was never here in the first place. I poured myself another shot to desensitize my beating heart and disturbed mind, but it only worked as a catalyst that let my tears out. I didn’t want to feel anything, but my body protested, punishing me for my own stupidity. I didn’t bother with decorum anymore, I drank straight from the bottle. With my eyes puffy and stinging, I kept wandering around my living room, crying, hiccuping, trying to tear off my skin with my fingernails and tumbling over the furniture, until I woke up on my bathroom floor without knowing how I got there.

After he booked the flight home, he contemplated for a while if it wouldn’t be easier to spend the next night in Krakow instead. He’d have a nice lunch, he’d go to see the castle again, he’d stuff his belly with those delicious donuts again until he wouldn’t be able to walk. He’d just enjoy himself.

No, he wouldn’t. Who was he kidding?

He’d be on edge and miserable, and surrounded by even more people who might recognize him. And apart from the fact that trying to book one night for one person at this time of year and at such a short notice would be silly and futile, he didn’t really want to. He didn’t want to contemplate the reasons why and he didn’t know what to expect in the morning, but his gut was telling him to stay just a little bit longer instead of just running away. He needed to see her face again and to apologize for those last words. She deserved them, because she hurt him, but he didn’t really mean them, because he knew why she did. It would be so much easier if she really was just an irritable bitch and nothing else, without all that masked hurt. She was right. He had seen her cry, and he acted on his natural instinct. Again.

It had gone too far, and he only realized how far when he uttered those last drunken words that sent her reeling. He didn’t realize what he was saying, how it would sound, and that it wasn’t even true… Anymore? Never? You learn new things every day. Even about yourself. It surprised and shook him even before her outburst. That’s why he was suddenly at a loss for words when it backfired. All that talk about love…there’s love, and then there’s love. He realized he’d fucked up. Again. It was different this time. He was lost in a whirlwind of his own confusing emotions.

His night was filled with troubled dreams and when the morning came and he opened his eyes, he cried. He felt on edge, his limbs restless and his mind set on overdrive. So he decided to do that he always did when he needed to clear his head. That’s why he was here in the first place. And then, in the evening, if they met again, he would try to make it right. Or at least better.

They were climbing the same steep path again, but it was different than before. She glanced around with apprehension, searching for the sun in the sky, only to find it setting on the other side. Or maybe the ground moved? Joshua started singing long before they reached the top, but the song was also different. It sounded more like a warcry this time. He still didn’t forget how she told him to get lost, so he tried and tried until he was almost translucent, and her bandages kept loosening until she looked like a mummy in a cartoon. Their argument was the reason they were late, with the stars already appearing in the sky, becoming brighter with each passing second. Some of the brightest ones turned to spotlights as soon as the sun disappeared under the horizon, illuminating the peak of the mountain like a stage. “Oh look, you’re home,” she said and expected him to retort back. His only reply was a silent stare, full of melancholy and reconciliation.

She saw him standing next to her, and yet he was also waiting for them at the summit, under one of those brightest lights. The closer they got, the more different he looked, with his long, dark and shimmering cape flapping around his ankles in the howling wind and his hair combed and straightened. This cloaked Joshua suddenly howled down at them, and the one next to her screamed back. It sounded like a battle between elements. Wind and fire. She lost her footing and was falling…falling…until a pair of hands seized her in mid air.

Agnieszka woke up at the worst possible moment: still a bit drunk, but already nauseous. The first thing she felt was an unpleasant pressure on her left cheek. She had been sleeping with her head resting on a slipper. Not sure where she was or even what day it was, she slowly tried to get up. No motion would be slow enough though and a sudden violent wave of nausea made her lay down on the hard tiled floor again. Mentally, she was still in that dream when the memories of the previous night slowly crept back to her. It felt like an anvil resting on her chest.

She tried to turn her head to the side next and noticed a sliver of dim light behind the half-closed door that revealed the back of her couch. It looked like early morning. Blue hour before dawn. The coldness of ceramic tiles under her legs, as well as the softness of the bathroom rug that helped to keep her body warm finally gave her enough clues to figure out where she was. She tried to sit up again, holding on to the toilet bowl for support. It was a wise choice, because she had just enough time to turn her head to the side and throw up in it.

After she recovered enough to stand up, she somehow managed to move. She didn’t get far, just crashed onto the couch and fell asleep again. At one point, in her half-conscious state, she could hear her door open and then close again silently after a while. The following dream was just a surreal jumble of noises and tumult. Thunders, church bells, bombs…

Agnieszka had promised Maya that she would be there for breakfast, but it was already half past ten when she finally managed to drag her ass down the stairs to meet her sister in the lobby. She expected to find the infamous Berserk Maya there, but – judging by the look her sister instantly shot at her – she was to be confronted with Maya the Mother, which was even worse. She considered turning on her heel and going back to her room to just die, but it was too late. “So? What happened, Olalla?”

Instead of responding, Agnieszka just sat in one of the armchairs and countered with another question. “Were you checking on me?”

“Yeah, can you blame me?”

No. Agnieszka just shook her head and rubbed her eyes to stop them from stinging. No. But Maya definitely could reproach her for not showing up earlier. And she did.

“I met Josh yesterday evening on the upper balcony, so I didn’t expect you to report to the kitchen this morning.” She cast her a knowing look, and there was a hint of reproach in her words, because the original plan was to spend a few quiet days without her kids here, not doing Agnieszka’s work. And she was supposed to leave today. “But I wanted to make sure you were still alive. Barely, from what I’m seeing.”

Agnieszka pinched her brow. The dilemma between wanting to know what he said and NOT wanting to know what he said was a torture even without the debilitating headache. However, the hangover seemed like a blessing now, because she could blame her current state on it, without having to talk about the real reason why she felt so miserable. “Hm…I’m hungover, obviously. What did he say? Is he gone?”

“No, he just went out for a walk, I guess. I saw him leaving around nine after the morning fog dissipated. But he will be gone soon. He told me he’s leaving tomorrow morning. So I figured some shit happened. Otherwise, nothing much, because those idiots turned up and made some snide remarks, so he just wished me a good night and disappeared into his room. So, what did he do? Or, should I ask, what did you do? The whole house knows what he allegedly did, thanks to that prick, but I – for one – don’t believe it, because he’s a sweetheart. So, is it because he…you know…likes men? I guess not. Yesterday morning you told me you two fucked, and then you were gone for the whole afternoon and you were literally glowing when you returned, so I guess you fucked some more, so it’s probably not that… ”

Agnieszka didn’t say anything for a while. Everytime Maya started talking, she was like an unstoppable locomotive, hooting and puffing her lengthy monologues like hot steam, which was overwhelming on a good day. It made people think, but it also made them want to tear their hair out sometimes. Today Agnieszka felt like drowning. She had been trying to avoid this. Yes. No. I don’t know. Does it matter? He’s leaving. It’s over. Replaying yesterday’s events was painful, because she began to see cardinal errors in her drunken judgement.

She had spent too much time with men who were fun to be with, but nothing more, and she was grateful for that, because they gave her no reason to like them. Joshua was nothing but caring. So patient with her and her mood swings, so kind, all that time just giving, even though he himself obviously felt like shit. And she completely disregarded that, and demanded even more instead. She absolutely deserved those last words. She wanted to fuck him from day one, while he just offered to be her friend, yet he finally gave her what she really wished for. It wasn’t his fault that she fell in love with him.

She stood up and started pacing the room. The headache was getting worse.

“No, I already knew that. And he didn’t do it. At least he said he didn’t. But I also learned that he doesn’t love me.” Agnieszka cringed at those words, because she realized how stupid they sounded as soon as she uttered them.

“Why should he love you? Apart from …well, you know,... you two still barely know each other.” Maya’s expression was quizzical at first, but it soon changed to one of pity when she noticed Agnieszka’s pained look that she failed to hide.

“Oh, Olalla, I’m so sorry. ” She moved around the counter to hug her sister, who however grabbed her by her shoulders to keep her at a distance. Agnieszka didn’t want Maya’s comfort. In spite of being younger, Maya was more like a second mother to her for years now. She needed someone who’d listen to her without judging her. Or feeling sorry for her.

“I’m not an idiot, Maya. I know this could be a stupid summer romance at best, but I just thought that there was something. And yesterday he said something along the lines that he could never really fall in love with me, because I’m a woman. We were drunk and I think I really overreacted, but… I fell really hard for him, in spite of trying not to, and…this just hurts, the knowledge that I mean nothing to him…”

Maya leaned against the counter with her lips pursed, and huffed. She was trying to be patient, but her sister made it really difficult sometimes. She had thought that spending some time with someone nice would open Agnieszka’s eyes just a bit. That was her plan when she decided to play the matchmaker. But now she thought that older sister really was an idiot. Even more touchy and self-destructive than she had thought. Hurting other people along the way.

“Well, firstly, I don’t believe that. Of course, I don’t know what’s going on inside his head, and all things considered… But I saw him looking at you and I heard him talking about you. I’m positive he likes you and he looked really downcast both yesterday and this morning. And secondly, you’re a hypocrite! This is exactly what you have been doing the whole fucking time. At least he doesn’t treat you like a piece of meat. Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m sorry you’re hurting, but I’m also glad to see it finally backfired. Monumentally, I should add, because Bartek’s obviously really jealous. He’s always been a jerk, but this is a new level. I don’t don’t blame him though. He lost to a queer rockstar. Ouch.”

Maya’s words felt like literal physical blows. She wasn’t done yet, though. She let Agnieszka process them for a while, hoping that she would, and then she striked again, forcing Agnieszka to confess the most painful part of the story: “And having mentioned the way Josh looked, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?

“What did you do? Don’t tell me that you confessed your love for him and scared him shitless, because that would be a shocker! And I’d piss myself at the irony of it.” Berserk Maya finally entered the building. Spewing tough love and ample doses of sarcasm on those who needed a proverbial slap. There was venom in her words, but that’s what she often did to try to make Agnieszka see sense, even though she usually failed anyway. This time it finally worked.

“No, I told him to get lost so that I wouldn’t have to do that. And he called me a bitch, because that’s what I am. I’m a shitty person. Happy?” Agnieszka’s face twisted in an attempt to stop the tears that threatened to spill. They did anyway and she finally let Maya hug her, sobbing on her shoulder.

“You’re not a shitty person, Neszka,” Maya whispered soothingly. “But you would be if you kept him thinking that he hurt you, instead of letting him know that you did that to yourself. He should know.”

Agnieszka only nodded and sobbed some more, before Maya finally broke the embrace and looked her sister in the eye while patting her shoulders playfully and with goodhearted encouragement.

“Good, you can tell him when he gets back. I’m reserving the first row though, because it’s going to be quite a spectacle - you actually talking to people. There's chicken soup in the kitchen, by the way. Go get yourself together. You look like shit.”

They were both chilling on the veranda, enjoying the uncommon peace of mid afternoon when they heard the first rumble. A lot of people were still outside, because they set off late due to the thick fog that threatened the ruin the day earlier in the morning. The sky cleared eventually, promising a pleasant day after all. That changed abruptly after 2 p.m.. Agnieszka was the first to stick her head out to see the menacing clouds drifting towards them from the south. That was unusual.

The storm hit hard, because no one expected it. It didn’t last long, but it was followed by tumult and hustle. They could still hear thunders in the distance and the sound of sirens and medicopters pierced the air. Their drenched guests finally started filling the lobby, one by one. Some of them were laughing, others looked shocked. A lot of people injured on Giewont, as the lightning hit, one said. Three casualties already, their neighbour came in, crying.

It was almost four and still no sign of Joshua. Agnieszka started panicking. “Do you know where he went?”, she asked Maya.

“No, he didn’t say a word, but…hey! Where are you going?” she cried after Agnieszka, who was already running upstairs, taking three stairs at a time.

When Maya finally caught up with her in her bedroom, Agnieszka was already rummaging in her wardrobe, hastily filling her backpack with all the necessities she might need. The mountain rescuers were busy taking care of other people. They wouldn’t start looking for him until after dark. To hell with it, they probably wouldn’t do anything until tomorrow. This was the only option. Where is everything? Where’s the rescue blanket…

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to find him.”

Maya just watched her in shock for a while. “Are you insane? What are you going to do? Search the whole mountain range? Maybe he’s already on his way. It’s still early. We have no idea where he is, for god’s sake!” She was raising her voice gradually.

“I have a hunch.”

“A hunch? A HUNCH?!?!” Maya grabbed her sister’s arm, who turned to her with wild stare.

“Let me go!” she hissed. There was a feral madness in Agnieszka’s eyes that Maya knew very well. She recognized it immediately. Those were their grandmother’s eyes. They called her Mama Bear.

“At least try to call him,” Maya said weakly.

That was a sensible suggestion, Agnieszka had to admit. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Yes, phone. Where’s the phone…she dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried once again, with the same result. Sick with worry and even more determined now, she tossed it into the backpack together with some other stuff: head torch, spare socks, a rescue blanket… “Tea. I need tea.”

Maya looked at her stoically, and without any more words went back to prepare the thermo flask. She would stay one more night.

The storm was over, but low clouds lingered and filled the woods and valleys with milk. It was a gloomy journey up those hills this time. So different from when she took the same path exactly a week ago. When she heard his voice for the first time…

It was almost six when Agnieszka finally arrived at the Murowaniec cottage in Hala Gasienicowa, out of breath, exhausted and drenched in sweat. The place was packed with the people who seeked shelter there during and after the storm, but still no sight of Joshua. She tried to suppress the waves of anxiety and threatened to engulf her when she started asking them, one by one, if they, by any chance, saw him, but no one met a man that would fit the description. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he never took this path, and was somewhere else entirely, while she relied on a stupid dream. She almost gave up, squatting in the corner of the main room, clutching her head in her hands, when a tall, middle aged man approached her. “Miss?”

She raised her bloodshot eyes to look at him. “Yeah?” she uttered feebly.

“Those people there said that you were looking for a short guy in his late twenties/early thirties…?”

“I am.”

“Longer, braided hair? Ridiculous sunglasses?”

“Yes!” she spurted and quickly stood up. “Yes! Have you seen him?”

“Indeed, we did. We met him while descending Koscielec. He was on his way up. It was shortly before the storm.”

“Oh my god, thank you. Thank you!” He tried to call something else after her, but she no longer listened, already running out the door. She had been right. She had to find him.

There were two paths leading to the saddle below the final path to the summit of Koscielec. so she was once again groping in the dark. If she chose the wrong way, she might miss him in case he was already on his way back. And if he was injured, she might not find him in time.

Oh God, please don’t take away another one. Please let him stay. She was mad with worry by the time she reached the Black Lake an hour later, and there was still no sight of him. Please let him be ok. Losing all her remaining self-restraint, she started crying loudly here, where only stones and clusters of mountain grass could hear her uncontrollable sobs and hiccup, as the tears ran down her face and chin like rivulets of sorrow before trickling down her neck where they threatened to choke her. The fog turned the vast space of the craggy amphitheatre that surrounded the mountain lake to an eerie wasteland buried in milky silence. It muffled every sound cotton, yet she could hear every single footstep she took.

Climbing up the steep slope that led to the saddle, she started calling his name, but it was met with silence. The world around her was already immersed in semi-darkness and she climbed up the saddle, the clouds making the night approach even faster. She paid it no mind, she was set on moving on. She kept going, climbing up the wet and slippery stones, calling his name.

“Olalla?” It was feeble at first, but when she called back again, she heard his second response clearly. It was coming from above, maybe 50 or 100 metres up the path. She couldn’t really tell in the fog.

She found him sitting on a rock under one of the steeper parts of the path, with his arms wrapped around his torso and his eyes wide with shock. He was drenched, shivering like a pinscher. He looked overwhelmed, disoriented and shaken, but - thankfully - very much alive. She started after him, pulling him in a tight embrace. He was shaking.

“Dzięki Bogu!”

“What?”

“I’m just so glad I found you. Oh my god, so glad! Why didn’t you answer my call? And why are you still up here? Are you hurt?” She rocked him back and forth in her arms, unable to let go, while she showered him with questions. Only after he whispered a feeble “hey” in her ear, she let go and cupped his cheeks in her hands instead, searching his face for cues. Was he injured? Talk to me man! He reciprocated her stare with a feeble smile.

“I tossed my phone down the hill when the shit started. Keys too. Spent an eternity crouching on my toes on a few blades of grass. Couldn’t feel my legs afterwards. That’s why I slipped when I tried to climb down eventually. I think I sprained my ankle.” She moved her hands down to examine it, feeling it carefully with just her fingertips, but he still hissed with pain.

“Shit. Can you stand? We really need to get you down. It’s getting dark.”

“How did you find me?”

“I just… knew. It doesn’t matter now. We need to get going.

He tried to stand up, while she supported him, with his arm around her shoulders. They tried to make a few steps, but his legs gave way and he whimpered in pain.

She sat him down in the patch of grass again. It was almost dark and the path was wet and slippery. She had the head torch, but that wouldn’t be enough. She didn’t mention bears, so as not to scare him even more, but the truth was that she was scared of them too. It was no use. They would have to spend the night up there. She was prepared for that. She took a few deep breaths and contemplated what next. He was soaked to the bone and agitated. She had to keep him calm, dry and warm…

“So, you were at the top when the storm hit?” she asked, her voice unnaturally calm. He only nodded.

“It’s really fortunate that you chose this one,” she continued matter-of-factly, while she started rummaging in her backpack. “The neighbouring Swinica is higher and with a lot of iron…I mean safety chains. It usually attracts most of the lighting. Are you thirsty?” It was all just a feeble attempt to suppress her own distress, because she knew that at least one of them had to remain calm. She had the basic knowledge of what to do, but she had never spent the night up there. In reality, she was panicking… Maya! She almost forgot. Pulling her phone from her backpack, she noticed she had four missed calls and almost no battery left. She started rummaging in the pack again, feeling the panic rise again

“Shit, I can’t find my power bank. I must have left it on my bed.” She checked the battery again. 3 %, just enough to type a brief message for Maya.

Found him. Koscielec. Sprained ankle, gonna bivouac, will need help in the morning.

The battery died before she got the confirmation that it was received, so now, they just had to pray for the best.

Looking at his soaked-through windstopper, she frowned. “Do you have any warm clothes you could use as an isolation?”

“Yeah, a spare hoodie. I think it’s still dry.”

The world around them suddenly turned orange, making them turn their heads to the west where the setting sun finally peeked through the dissipating clouds. They could feel its faint warmth on their faces. Joshua closed his eyes and took a slow, deep and shaky breath. Agnieszka looked around them. The sky was indeed already clearing, which only meant that it would get cold very quickly.

“Good, put it on immediately. It’s getting chilly and you’re shivering terribly. Unfortunately, I have only one rescue blanket. We’re gonna have to cuddle.” She looked at his legs with concern. “Spare pants?”

“No, just these shorts,” he replied absentmindedly and finally opened his eyes again, but the expression on his face remained distant and dreamy, and he kept looking at the sunset. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful, but listen to me! We need to keep you warm. Joshua, look at me!” She cupped his cheeks in her hands and turned his head to face her. They were cold to the touch, so she checked his hands next. Ice-cold already. He was breathing rapidly now, but thankfully still kept shivering. “I think you’re already a bit hypothermic, baby. Quickly, shed this wet sweatshirt.”

He did as she told him, while she took out her thermo flash full of hot tea and forced him to drink some. Then she wrapped them both in a rescue blanket and snuggled close to him to keep him warm.

She cradled him in her arms until he started shaking violently again, his teeth chattering loudly. That was a good sign, his body temperature rising again. They remained like that for at least twenty minutes, until he finally relaxed and wrapped his arms around her, drawing circles on her forearm with his thumb. “I’m sorry for what I said, Olalla,” he whispered and kissed her hair. “I’m glad you’re here. I thought I was going to die here. Without saying things I should have said...”

She shushed him. “I wouldn’t let you.”

They watched how the sky darkened and the celestial dome revealed all its wonder. Not ever the lights from the town below could dim its beauty. His fingertips found her chin and turned her face to his. She watched how the tiny light reflected in his eyes before he closed the gap between them and their lips touched again in a gentle kiss. They deepened it eventually, taking their time to communicate without words.

“I’m afraid you’re going to miss your flight,” she whispered when their lips parted.

“Yes, I was going to.”

They talked eventually, They talked about everything. They talked until midnight, when the breaks between sentences became more prolonged and their stiff muscles relaxed eventually.

“How does your dad call you, again?” he asked her after a while, his voice already hoarse. It took her by surprise, because he could have heard it just once…a week ago.

“Neszka.”

“Neszka…,” he repeated. Pronouncing it was like eating ice cream…or getting ready for a kiss. “It’s beautiful. A perfect name for a butterfly. Very fitting.”

Still in a tight embrace, she snaked her left hand under his shirt and up his chest, making him sigh. “Your heart’s beating so soundly,” she whispered. She felt the vibrations of the steady rhythm travel through her fingertips, reverberating her bones until she heard them inside her head, ringing.

“Like a bell,” he replied and closed his eyes.

He fell asleep eventually, but Agnieszka couldn’t. They didn't have time, just moments, and it would be a crime to waste a second. There would be enough time to sleep once she’s laid in her grave. Starlight illuminated his face enough to reveal the prominent curve of his brow or his parted lips, and she couldn’t stop watching the silhouette of his profile. He was beautiful.

She snuggled even closer, burying her face in the curve of his neck, breathing in the unmistakable and intoxicating scent of his body. Every minute spent with you is worth a thousand light years. I don’t care what you think or feel, you’re here now and I love you. “Kocham cię.” She whispered those last words with her lips pressed against the velvet spot right below his earlobe, tattooing them into his skin with her hot breath so that he could carry them with him wherever he goes. Closing her eyes, she imagined what it would be like to wake up to the warm scent of his body every morning, knowing very well this wasn’t meant to be. That’s why she cherished every inhale as if it was her last intake of breath in this world. He had crushed the remaining pieces of her broken heart to pulp from which it could be remoulded again, and she was suddenly determined to do so, with or without him. She would remember his touches till the rest of her days…

She dozed off at last, because when she opened her eyes again, the sky had already turned to indigo, with a sliver of pink on the northeastern horizon. She started at the realization that the morning was approaching and the sudden movement made him stir as well. They were both stiff from the cold, their noses icy and their feet prickling, but with her hand still under his shirt, she could feel the warm skin of his chest. “What time is it,” he mumbled against her cheek.

She looked at her garmin. “5:15. The sun will rise soon.”

“Marvelous. I need to pee.” His words made her laugh out loud and she could feel him sniggering against her skin, his chest shaking against her arm.

“Ok, big boy. Let’s get moving. We should try to get closer to the cottage as soon as the dawn breaks. How’s your ankle?”

“Better, I think. No twitching pain anymore. Just a tingle.”

After they packed their things, he relieved himself behind one of the larger stones, and began their slow descent as soon as the dawn broke. He could stand, that was good, but she still supported him in the most precarious passages. The precipitous stony path was still wet and slippery, and they were taking their time.

It was just a brief moment of inattention. She let go for only a second to adjust the strap on her backpack. The motion made her thermo flask slip from the bottle pocket and fall to the ground where it clinked loudly upon the stone.

Joshua turned around to see what happened and his bad foot slipped on the wet surface. She watched in slow motion how his outstretched arm sweeped the air in front of her in a vain attempt to take a hold of a turf of grass next to her left leg. Her heart nearly burst out of her chest. She quickly darted forward and tried to catch him, but her fingertips missed him by a few centimeters, and the last thing she saw before he disappeared below were his wide and terrified eyes. A millisecond later – but it felt like minutes – she heard a choked yelp.

He fell only a few metres, and she could climb down to him with ease, but it was still a terrifying sight. His forearms were bruised and bloody, as well as his left shin, all the way from the knee to the angle. But her heart almost stopped beating when she felt his head and found a dark matted patch in his hair behind his left ear. He was conscious, but she could see his eyes drooping. He looked at her, and whimpered. Then he closed his eyes and she buried her fingernails in the flesh of his bicep just to keep him awake.

“Joshua, you mustn’t fall asleep now. Listen to me! Stay with me!” She sang to him songs of her childhood while she cradled his head in her lap.

They found them shortly after 7 am. Three bulky guys from the mountain rescue were the first ones to arrive, accompanied by her dad and Maya. It all seemed like a dream. Agnieszka felt lightheaded and nauseous, and her hands started shaking uncontrollably the moment she saw them. It was as if someone opened the floodgates and all the previously suppressed anxiety and fear gushed through her veins. Their voices were coming to her from great distance, muffled by the ringing in her ears. They lifted him from her lap and she winced at the sudden chill caused by the morning breeze. The men kept asking her if she was hurt, but all she could do was to repeat “him, him…” over and over again.

Her dad was the first to notice. “Neszka, child, I think you’re getting into shock.” He pushed her head between her knees to keep her from fainting and kept rubbing her back comfortingly when she finally heard the sound of a helicopter in the distance. She opened her eyes to see it already hanging in mid air right above them.

She heard the men talking. One of them mentioned Krakow. It sobered her momentarily as her heart pumped a fresh dose of adrenaline into her veins. Krakow? Why Krakow? The medicopted belonged to the hospital in Zakopane. Why would they be taking him to Krakow? What was wrong with him? She stood up and felt two pairs of hands holding her arms as she started after the men that moved around the stretcher. She didn’t even realize she was shouting until Maya shouted back. “Be sensible! He has a head injury and he’s an internationally acclaimed musician. He’s going to Krakow! Don’t argue.”

When she calmed down, they finally let her come to him. He tried to say something but she couldn’t hear him through the sound or medicopter blades, so he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. “Call Jake,” he mumbled.

“Jake? Your brother? How am I supp…”

“My emergency contact…,” he wheezed and squeezed her hand once more before the paramedics shouted that it was time to go. She watched them pull the stretcher up into the medicopter and soon they were just a dot in the sky. She stood there for several minutes, frozen and unable to take her eyes off of them until they disappeared on the northern horizon. She was only barely aware of Maya hugging her tight and of the lukewarm morning wind cooling her wet cheeks. Silence engulfed them, only a single hawk screeched in the distance.

Author's note:

I took this picture in High Tatras in August 2019. I later painted it (This is the painting, obviously. The original photo is featured in the this story's graphics).

We (me and my husband) were just descending when the sudden storm swept through the whole mountain range, killing several people that day. Five people died, including two children, and at least a hundred people were injured, most of them on the Polish side of the Tatras. I took the picture right before the storm hit. We were very lucky.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr @kiszkas-canvas @wetkleenex-gvf

42 notes · View notes

winchesterwild78 · 5 months ago

Text

Austin part 6

Austin Master List

Chapter Warnings: Fluffy chapter, some anxiety but lots of sweetness

A/N: Time jumps in this chapter. Felt like this one was it for this story.

Absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not represent reality. This chapter is a little long because y’all know I get long winded. 😂 I edited this fast so please overlook any mistakes.

All work is my own, don’t take it

18+ Minors DNI

*********************************************

The quick trip to Dallas was incredible. Jacob had a fantastic time and you and Jensen grew closer. Jacob saw just how much Jensen cared about you and how much you cared about him. It made him feel good to know you had someone who cared for you. By the time the three of you returned to Austin your relationship was all over social media.

Rob had been calling and texting you telling you to call him. While you were in Dallas you ignored him and focused on the trip. Sitting in the living room your phone rang and it was Rob. “What do you want Rob” you asked as you answered the phone. “So I see you’re dating him now” he hissed. “So what if I am. That’s not your concern anymore. We are over and who I date is my business. You need to focus on your pregnant girlfriend” you growled. Rob was speechless. “Yeah that’s right. She told us. Congratulations Rob. Now I need to go” and you hung up.

Jensen had been answering calls from his agent, publicist and Danneel. When he walked back in the room he just looked exhausted. You stood up and wrapped your arms around him “you okay honey” you asked. “I will be. This is an absolute mess. Danneel is creating issues and my agent is losing their mind over the break up and now our relationship. I told them I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m in love with you and I want to make a life with you.” He said as he kissed your head.

“Jensen I don’t want to cause problems for you. If we need to chill out for a while I understand.” You swallowed hard. Jensen cupped your face and said “absolutely not. I’m not letting them tell me how to live my life. I have to meet D at the house today too. I really don’t want to but we need to figure out things with the kids.” “Do you want me to come with you” you asked hesitantly. “You don’t have to. I know how she can be and I don’t want her to focus her anger on you” he said. “I want to go. Maybe I can help” you kissed him.

About 30 minutes later you and Jensen pulled in his driveway. You got out and started to walk to the door. You saw a car pulling in and caught a glimpse of red hair. You knew it was Danneel. Jensen tensed up. You grabbed his hand and told him to take a deep breath. “Go inside Jensen. I want to talk to her first” you said. His eyes went wide but before he could protest you nodded “I’ve got this. Trust me” you said.

Jensen went inside leaving you alone with Danneel. You extended your hand “hello Danneel. I’m Y/n. It’s good to finally meet you.” She looked confused but shook your hand. “I’m here to talk to Jensen about our children” she snapped. “I know you are, but I wanted to talk to you first. Woman to woman.” You stood your ground. “Let’s sit” you motioned to the patio chairs. The two of you took a seat. “I’m not going to pretend I know everything about your relationship with Jensen or what led to the two of you splitting up. What I do know is Jensen loves your children and he’s an amazing father. Our relationship started out very innocently and when you two split and I split with my husband is when we started seeing each other. Not before. I want what’s best for Jensen and your children. I would never come in between them, him or you. You two are their parents and I respect that. I would however with your permission like to get to know them better. I have a teenage son who would love nothing more than to meet them and hang out with them. I was not able to give him any siblings so he’s excited about getting to know your children. I don’t know where this relationship with Jensen is going but I can assure you if we decide to take this further I would never try to replace you in their lives. You will always be their mother and I would be a bonus mom. I just hope you can remember what an incredible father he is before any rash decisions are made. You wouldn’t just be hurting him, you would be hurting those children too.”

You finally took a breath and looked at her. She was sitting with her mouth slightly open. “Wow, I don’t know what to say. It sounds like you really care for him and the well being of our children. Y/N I can’t ever forget what an incredible father he is. Our children are so lucky to have him. I would be okay with you and your son meeting them. I know Jensen and I have a long road ahead of us to repair our friendship but I would never use the kids as pawns. Thank you for talking to me. I know I hurt Jensen and that wasn’t my intention. I fell in love with someone else. I just went about leaving him the wrong way.” She said. “I get it. My ex cheated on me and his girlfriend is pregnant. I was devastated. I would have much rather he told me he wanted to leave and just left. What he did was so much worse.” You told her.

“I can see why Jensen cares about you. I hope we can all have a good relationship and not just for the kids. Can we go in and talk to Jensen now” she asked. You shook your head and stood up. Before you knew what was happening Danneel hugged you “thank you, Y/N”. You hugged her back and smiled.

The two of you walked in the house and Jensen stood up from the kitchen table he was sitting at. “Hello D” he said to her and looked over at you. “I’ll give you two some space.” You said walking up to Jensen you placed a soft kiss on his lips and smiled. “Jensen I want to start by saying I’m sorry for how things ended between us. You didn’t deserve any of it. I should have just been honest about how I felt and just left. Y/N seems like an incredible woman. I’m glad you have her. I assured her our children are a priority and I wouldn’t use them as pawns in a game. I respect you and your relationship with them too much. I’ll always love you, Jensen.” She said as she touched his arm softly. “I appreciate that D. I love our children and hope one day we can get our friendship back to where it was. Y/N is amazing and has an incredible son. She’s going to be great with the kids. Should we get lawyers involved to help sort custody or is it something you think we can figure out ourselves?” Jensen asked. Danneel said “I think we can figure it out ourselves. I’m planning on buying a house big enough for them but in the meantime can they stay here with you?” “Of course they can and if you want you can stay in the guest room when you want to visit with them.” Jensen offered.

You sat at the top of the stairs listening to them talk. You wanted to make sure they stayed civil. You smiled when they came to a compromise about the children. You were a little nervous.

A few minutes later Jensen came upstairs to get you. He smiled, pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “What was that for” you smiled. “You’re an amazing woman you know that. I don’t know what you said to her but that went better than I expected.” He said. You smiled and nodded “just some girl talk.”

*time jump about a year*

“Jensen, honey we are going to be late. I don’t want to miss the procession” you yelled from downstairs. “Coming” Jensen said as he bounded down the stairs. You turned and looked at him. God he looked amazing. He was in a blue blazer and white button up shirt, and blue slacks that matched his blazer. His hair was longer and was styled out of his face. You bit your bottom lip. You’d been with him for over a year and he still took your breath away. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your neck. “You look beautiful sweetheart. Is Jacob meeting us there” he asked. “Yeah. They had to be there early. I can’t believe my baby is graduating today” you said tearfully. “D and the kids are meeting us there and I talked to Rob this morning. He, Cindi and baby Jessica are almost in town so they will be there.” Jensen told you.

“Thank you Jensen. You’re incredible” you kissed him. The two of you headed out the door and to the stadium. You saw Jacob standing with his friends in his cap and gown. You waved and he smiled. He started walking towards you and he threw his arms around you. Jensen started taking pictures. You hugged your boy and started crying. “Don’t cry Ma.” Jacob said. You wiped your tears “sorry. It’s just my baby is graduating. I’m so proud of you.”

It was time to get started so you and Jensen took your seats near D and the kids. Over the past year the three of you had gotten close and the kids were part of your family now too. Jacob loved having younger siblings and he was incredible as a big brother to Rob’s baby. When she was born you were sad. You thought about your little girl. When Cindi gave birth you took Jacob to the hospital and gave them space. They moved out of Austin not long after her birth. Rob and Cindi decided to move outside of the city limits so they weren’t too far.

You and Jacob moved in with Jensen about 5 months ago and everything was going great. You and Jensen had been talking more about the future and it excited you but scared you too.

Once the ceremony was over it was time to head back to the house for the party. Everyone came, even Jensen’s friends. Jared and his family, Misha and his kids, Jensen’s family and other people in your lives. It was a bigger party than you had ever thrown so you were thankful for Danneel and Gen’s help with planning.

You went upstairs to change and get ready for the party. You were feeling a bit tired and under the weather. You had been running around trying to get things ready for the past few days. Jensen insisted you go to the doctor to get checked. The doctor said everything was fine you just needed rest. She did draw blood to check your iron levels and everything else.

While upstairs your phone rang. You answered the phone and it was the doctor with your results. You were crying when you got off the phone. You had no idea how to process what she told you. How would you tell Jensen and Jacob. Your mind was spinning and you just cried. This was going to change so much.

You composed yourself and went back downstairs. Jensen was at the grill and saw you come downstairs. He mouthed “are you okay” you nodded yes. Jacob asked for everyone’s attention and he thanked everyone for their support and love. He hugged you and said “Mom I know moving here was hard but I’m glad we did. We have an incredible family and Jensen. Jensen, thank you for loving my mom and being incredible with me. You’ve helped me in so many ways over this past year.” He hugged Jensen.

Jensen took the floor next “Jacob, I couldn’t be more proud of you if you were my own son. You are an amazing young man with an incredible future. Thank you for accepting me and allowing me to love you and your mom. And Y/N, thank you for everything. You’ve made my life so much better and you’ve given me an incredible son. There is just one more thing I need from you.” Jensen turned to you, dropped to his knee and pulled out a ring “will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

You were speechless and you cried. Shaking your head yes. He placed the ring on your finger and hugged you. Everyone cheered and congratulated you. You pulled Jensen to the downstairs guest room. “Jensen I need to talk to you. I got a call from my doctor and they gave me my results. They know why I’ve been so sick. I’m anemic and um I don’t know how to tell you this.” You started to cry a little. Jensen wrapped his arms around you and kissed you. “It’s okay baby. Whatever it is we will deal with it together.” “Jensen I love you so much and I can’t wait to be your wife. I um I’m pregnant” you blurted out.

Jensen’s eyes filled with tears. You started to panic. “You’re pregnant” he asked. “Like really pregnant. You’re having my baby” he asked. “Yes, Jensen. I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby. Are you mad?” You whispered. “Mad?!? No! I’m so happy. We’re having a baby. We’re getting married and having a baby. Oh I’m so excited” he said. “Can we wait to tell everyone. I don’t want to say anything too early” you asked. He shook his head yes and smiled. Taking you in his arms he kissed you deeply. “I love you so much, Y/N.” “I love you too, Jensen.”

*time jump 8 months later*

“Okay Mrs Ackles it’s time. Give me a big push. You got this. Just a few more and your baby will be here.” The doctor told you. Jensen stood by the bed helping you deliver your baby. He kissed your forehead “you’ve got this baby. Just a few more pushes and you’ll be holding our baby. Come on sweetheart.” You pushed and soon you heard the sound of your baby crying. The doctor placed the baby on your chest and you looked down at this tiny miracle you and Jensen created. Ten fingers, ten toes and beautiful green eyes like their daddy.

After the baby was cleaned and dressed Jensen carried them to the waiting room to meet their family. Jensen was smiling so proudly holding the baby. Everyone was on their feet as soon as they saw him. “Y/N is doing great and it is my honor to introduce you all to our beautiful baby girl, Arabella Nicole Ackles.” Jacob beamed with joy. His little sister, finally where she belongs.

The End

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

#hes gorgeous #jensen ackles #so damn sexy #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles smut #jackles #jensen ackles x reader

53 notes · View notes

ira-hydrangea · 2 years ago

Text

Replaced Au? Not really.... Final Part

That night, Eva disappear. The only one that knows what happened to her is only a few students.

Mc cure has been healed and now they try to heal after that terrible illness while also learning about magic.

No one talks about Eva and Mc is too busy trying magic and getting fascinated by their power. The boys watched in the background with a fond smile.

"You know... I never see Eva again. Where did she go?" Mc, asks suddenly. The first-year group stay silent before they look at Mc in confusion.

"Eva? Who is that?"

"Eh? you know that another magicless student beside me? You guys are the ones that introduced her to me." Mc explains while looking equally confused.

Deuce smiled awkwardly, "Um... We never accepted any new student."

"Yep. Besides, who wants to transfer in the middle of the semester?" ask Epel.

Ace smirk at Mc, "perhaps that long sleep really messed with your memory, Mc~. Did you need to go back to sleep to retrieve the memory?"

Mc pout before huffing, "...maybe. Ah! Just forget it."

"I once heard that anyone tends to confuse reality and dreams after a long illness. Maybe we should get you checked with Malleus or Lilia just to make sure." said Jack.

Mc then agree and followed them to get checked with Malleus. After that, they try to ask others and the answer they got is the same as their first-year group. So they decide to drop it and just accept that they just dreaming about that Eva person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A mysterious girl starts to wander around aimlessly in some town. When she got evacuated and get questioned, she can't even remember anything. And the only thing, she mumbles is the loss of heart. The investigation team tried to discover anything about the girl but there not a single piece of data appeared. No one knows her identity and her case created so much conspiracy.

The close piece of information they can closely match is the lost girl file that come 100 years ago. While their characteristics match each other, there is no way the lost girl can survive that long without aging. And so, the case is deemed as Unsolved Case.

The girl then gets put in so kind of mental institution for further investigation and observation while the police try everything they could to figure out her identity and what happen to her.

The end.

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

Okay. This series has finally finished. It's short, I know. But I didn't want to make a long fiction about this one or I can easily lose interest 😅.

I like to say that the 'rest of the story can be imagined later.' You guys can send a brain rot about this chapter and I can answer them while enjoying my holiday trip. Just don't expect me to answer it every day.

I will continue the event later after the new year. Thank you so much for you that have requested it. Now I'm officially closing the event for 1.100 followers!

I see you guys in the next piece of writing. Byee~

Taglist:

@ladykitsunesworld @shutsuyuri @lilqi @fancyhawk45 @probablynoposts @justakiro @blue-yucca @love-thanatopsis @sxftiebee @salty-salty @zlatolait-writes @feiktn @redrosetrappola @littlewitchwonderland @ilikefanfics4 @deemayaz @unre-lated @deessenya @viostar2095 @sumiko0-0 @clovers-anxiety @fluffimemes @celestialbluebed @deadflycomputerlogs @percea @mouchie @nadjababygirl @migirizuki @h3apm3ch4n151m @rebloging-everything @crazyyanderefangirlfan @mikkies @iameliseposts @chay2 @ravenkake @r4mshackle @valeriele3 @maxx0inwonderland @kiznax

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #ira answer #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland replaced mc au #replaced mc au

715 notes · View notes

alearicci · 1 year ago

Text

“you're losing me, charles” – CL16.

pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader(but name in fic Ann); charles leclerc x ex-girlfriend.

summary: the most difficult breaking is when you and her love each other, but the decision can no longer be changed.

warning: break up, hurt/comfort, sad, a little bit social media au.

song to read: you're losing me - taylor swift.

note: this is just my understanding of how a girl can act when parting. In your thoughts it may be different, but this is a story with my fantasy fiction and therefore, I ask you to treat it with understanding.

It was too painful to write, I feel very bad about parting with people I once loved.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Charles Leclerc was sitting on the bed, looking at a photograph of him and his girlfriend Ann standing on the bedside table. The weight of the impending decision weighed heavily on his heart. But he understood that there was no other way out. That if he didn't tell her right now, he wouldn't be able to later. Then this belated conversation can aggravate the situation and make it much worse for both her and him. Charles took the photo in his hands and took the picture out of the frame. He smiled sadly as soon as his eyes met the girl in the photo. Ann. She was always there for him and gave him sincere love. She provided him with such necessary support, gave him the opportunity to feel needed.

Charles involuntarily thought about the day when this photo was taken. It seems that it was the first time she came to a family dinner in his family. Ann immediately liked his mother and brothers, which made the racer very happy. And how can someone not like such a girl?

Charles really loved her. He loved her with all his heart.

But now his heart is asking him to let her go.

The world-famous Formula 1 racer, determined to succeed in his career, knew that sacrifices were inevitable, but he never imagined that he would have to choose between career and love.

He was so eager to become a professional driver, did everything to make his dream come true. He could stay up all night thinking about how to improve the car, he trained until he lost consciousness, he squeezed everything out of himself to succeed. But how can you live without love in our cruel world?

He dreamed of returning home after a hard workout, spending time with his beloved and telling about the past day at the racetrack. He dreamed of seeing his girlfriend in the paddock, she would be wearing his trademark cap and would glow with happiness when he crossed the finish line in the top three. He dreamed of celebrating victory until morning and knowing that his sleeping beauty was waiting for him at home.

He got it and now he will lose it of his own free will. Funny, isn't it? When you love a person and when he loves you, you don't give up on him. But this time it's different.

Ann walked slowly into the room, noticing the thoughtful expression on Charles' face and their shared photo in her hands. A certain anxiety and misunderstanding of the whole situation filled her eyes as she walked towards him.

"Honey, what's wrong? I don't recognize you lately. Are you okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. It turned out pretty damn bad. He couldn't bring himself to say those terrible words.

"Ann, we need to talk. Please sit down."

Ann sat down next to him, her hand gently touching his arm.

"Of course, Charles. What is it?"

He gently stroked her fingers with his own, finding solace in her touch before breaking the news that would destroy her in just a couple of seconds. And, it is unlikely that he will ever be able to touch her like that again.

"I... I think we should break up."

Ann's eyes widened in disbelief, she let out a nervous laugh and muttered.

"Break up? Charles, are you kidding? I don't really feel like laughing."

Charles plucked up the courage to look into her eyes, his own eyes were full of uncharacteristic sadness, because at any other time his eyes were filled with a mischievous sparkle.

"No, Ann, I'm not kidding. Damn it."

Charles exhaled heavily and bit his lower lip.

"What... What did I do wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

"It's not about you. It's about me and my career. Formula 1 requires a huge level of dedication, and also requires me to always be focused and ready for any turns. I'm not able to properly combine common sense on the track and feelings for you. I just... not worthy of you, you know? I want to spend more time with you so that we can be a normal couple like everyone else, go on frequent dates, stay up all night, dance until morning, but I can't. I'm sorry, but my decision is well thought out and I won't change it."

Ann's voice was shaking with pain. She couldn't believe it would end like this. That he had told her in plain text that she meant nothing to him. That he chooses himself, not them, or even her.

"So you prefer the race to me, right?"

Charles tightened his grip on her hand, his heart clenched in pain from the decision he had made.

"I don't want to lose you, Ann. But I can't ignore the pressure to perform, to constantly give my best on the track. I never wanted this, honey. I never meant to hurt you. But our careers, our aspirations pull us in different directions. The demanding nature of my profession and constant travel do not allow me to give you the time and attention you deserve."

Tears were still gathering in the corners of Ann's eyes as she hurriedly removed her hand from Charles' palm.

"You're losing me, Leclerc. As soon as I started this conversation. If you can't handle everything, then I don't think you really needed me. I thought we could support each other, Charles. I believed that we could handle this together. But it looks like it was all in vain."

Charles swallowed noisily and shouted nervously.

"Ann, our love is sincere and strong, but the reality of my profession is inexorable. Constant travel, intense training, demands on my time... it would be unfair to ask you to wait for me, to put your life on pause."

Charles paused, his voice choked with emotion, and Ann was silent, still trying to be strong.

There was emptiness inside.

With a heavy sigh, he gathered his thoughts and continued: "I don't want to keep you from your dreams, from the opportunities that lie ahead of you. You deserve someone who can be there for you, who can give you the love and support you need. And right now I can't be that person, no matter how much I want to be."

He automatically took Anne's slightly trembling hands in his again, squeezing them to comfort her. To comfort not only her, but also myself.

"Please understand that this decision is also tearing me apart. It's not because I don't love you, but because I love you enough to know it's the right thing to do. We both deserve real happiness and satisfaction, even if it means that our paths diverge."

Ann nodded, trying to smile as sincerely as possible. She knew she couldn't change Charles's mind, but she couldn't not defend her honor. Finally, she abruptly pushed Charles's hands off her own, causing him to round his eyes in surprise and said.

"If this is what you really think is best for your career, Charles, then I won't stand in your way. I hope that you will achieve the success you are striving for. Good luck.

Ann got out of bed and went to the closet to pack her things.

"Ann..."

Charles stood behind her and wanted to hold out his hand to calm her down.

"Silence, Leclerc. Silence. Let me pack my things and get out of your house. And out of your life. I will remain in it only in memories. As your friend said... Daniel, I think his name is. No regrets, only memories. Right. "

Ann's voice traitorously broke from nervous overstrain, which made both her and Charles start in fright.

When Charles reluctantly let Ann go, he couldn't help but wonder if the price he had paid was too high and if success on the racetrack would ever bring him the same joy and happiness that Ann had once brought.

Ann left an hour after their conversation. It took Charles a long time to get used to the idea that she would not come back.

Everything reminds him of her.

Everything reminds her of him.

As soon as Ann got to her apartment, she didn't cry or break the dishes. She went to her Instagram, deleted all joint photos with Charles from her profile and posted a post with a single phrase.

hahaitsann

liked by carlossainz55, arianagrande and 234.379 others

hahaitsann my heart won't start anymore for you

view all 1881 comments

arianagrande: babe are u ok?

⇾hahaitsann: happier than ever

carlossainz55: fck. ann you're alright?

⇾ hahaitsann: of course, ca, don't worry:)

danielricciardo: ann are you home? I will come now.

⇾ hahaitsann: ouuh. no need, dan, tysm.

kellypiquet: girl I'm here

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, fancharles1 and other 1.290.300

charles_leclerc i can't find a pulse.

view all 12.328 comments

landonorris: you guys are scaring me, what happened?

⇾ charles_leclerc: nothing just an incident

carlossainz55: charles, can you go to direct and answer me?

fancharles1: WHA-A-AT

⇾ carlossainz55: same reaction mate

sofiestay: I hope you're all right, Charles.

lec16lerc: god what happened?

16charlec: did you and Ann break up?

⇾ janerttb: I think yes, they both don't have pictures in their profiles together. Did you see Ann's post?

⇾ 16charlec: no. but. wtf.

So that's what was supposed to happen. It hurts, yes. But you have to be a strong girl.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 2023 #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one #social media au #breakup #sad thoughts #nothing just an inchident #youre losing me #not really #oneshot #drabble #ig story

218 notes · View notes

tachimichishrine · 1 year ago

Note

I swear no one does Higuchi justice like c’mon I’m BEGGING to be her cute wife that cooks for her whenever she comes from the Mafia. The chokehold she has on me is just *mwah* she’d be so sweet

also love your tachihara fanfiction it’s my dinner everyday <3

"housewife"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

higuchi ichiyo x wife! reader

warnings: i attempt fluff again ; this is so short idk why, apologies my liege ; this is fiction bc there's no way i could cook smth and not poison my wife/ burn the house down in the process ,,, ; tw bath!! (/j it's all just fluff) ; l e s b i a n s ; love language is phys touch deal with it ; itty bitty cursing ; lowercase intended ; NOT proofread

you knew not to panic in such situations. waking up to disheveled sheets that had turned frigid, indicating that ichiyo had been gone too long. you allowed yourself to sleep in, given that you had the day off and decided you'd just lounge around, take a break and plan something nice for your lover in the meantime.

a stress-free period, but all you felt was anxiety when you dialed her number and got sent straight to voicemail repeatedly. this time, you decided you might as well actually leave a message when the line rang for too long.

"'chiyo, honey, call me back when you get this. just wanna make sure everything's okay, alright? I miss you already, love y-"

"who the hell is this?"

you'd been anticipating the automated voice so much that it barely registered that you didn't actually hear it this time, and a quick glance at the screen confirmed that you really were on call with someone on the other end of the line. the voice was raspy, definitely not hers, so you echoed back the question.

"um, who are you?" you challenged with a hand on your hip that they couldn't see.

except, instead of a response, you heard some distant voices on the other line, one rather hyper as it babbled something you interpreted as 'akutagawa-senpai!'. a few noises ensued along a brief chaos you couldn't see, and suddenly the phone was put back to someone's ear as they panted. you could recognize that heavy breathing anywhere.

"hey, hey, 'chiyo, what's going on?" you spoke softly, hoping she was alright and not trying to scare her.

she stuttered nervously. "sorry, I'm so sorry, I must've dropped my phone somewhere and akutagawa-senpai picked it up and-"

"woah, was that the akutagawa you're always talking about?" you couldn't believe it; after being with her for so long, you'd only ever heard stories about the people with whom she worked. you agreed that the kind of place where she operated was dangerous and it was better not to get yourself involved, so she kept you separated from everything she did. you appreciated the thought, but sometimes you felt a little frustrated that you couldn't meet the people in her life— you didn't even think they were aware ichiyo was married.

a tired sigh confirmed your theory. "look, [_____], I'll call you back when-"

"higuchi, who is that?"

akutagawa seemed to be speaking again, and quite frankly you didn't like his tone. if you were on speaker, you'd set him straight but for now you just listened to ichiyo ramble a response while not actually answering the question. he sounded tired of the bullshit and eventually the line was cut off harshly. something told you that you won't be able to call this number anymore.

music played on the speaker as you hummed, tray of baked goods getting pulled out of the oven by your gloved mitten. the smell filled out the rather small place you shared with both your wife and sister-in-law, but the latter was out for the week on some kind of trip and left you all alone. you'd gotten used to ichiyo's erratic lifestyle, sometimes disappearing during the day and barely making it home at night. she sounded exhausted when she did arrive, so you didn't mind taking care of the little things.

proud of yourself, you put the assorted goods in various plates and left them on the table, waiting for her to come home. you couldn't call her, obviously, since it appears her boss had pulverized the device out of rage. you'd be worried if not for the fact that, based on her stories, it seemed this was a regular occurrence and she didn't mind it. you'd feel jealous of the man if it weren't for the fact that she fawned over you much harder in all the days you'd known her. she knows what she wants and does everything to get it, you'll give her that. by nature, ichiyo was incredibly caring and it was difficult to hold that against her

something was in your hands as you lounged on the couch, passing the time: a book, your phone, anything to keep your mind occupied. the sun had set and you were getting impatient, as nighttime meant she was going to be out until the early hours and might even come home with a particular scent on her clothing that resembled blood and death. how a person so sweet, so feeling could get into this kind of business was beyond you, much less how she could last thing long. she once told you that the only reason she could keep her mind this long was coming home to your soft kisses and pampering.

a clicking of the front lock and the creaking that ensued signaled that you were about to do that once more, and you strolled over to the entrance with an excited smile.

"welcome home, 'chiyo, how wa-" you caught yourself off when you saw a splatter of crimson along her cheek. your lips tugged downwards into a frown as a reflex, and you sighed gently once you saw her expression. she seemed so conflicted, not about whatever crime she'd done but about making you worry so quickly. "hey, hey, it's okay, c'mere."

with that, you pulled her into your embrace and set a kiss on her hair. it still smelled like that shampoo you'd bought her, a subtle vanilla and chamomile that reminded you of her. her entire body slumped into your strong arms, and she let you drag her across the house, shedding her shoes, meticulously pulling the elastic out of her hair to let her messy bun fall into a bob, then helping her out of her unbuttoned jacket. you pulled her body into yours as you laid down on the couch again, but this time with her head shoved into your chest, which was one of her favourite things to do.

"wanna talk about it?" you asked, dumbly, one of your regular antics. of course she wanted to talk about it; she did an awful job keeping things to herself anyways.

so, you listened carefully while she recounted stories with fake names to keep you protected and vague details in certain places, specific in others. she didn't seem hungry, so you just skipped the food for now and dragged her to your bedroom. you were about to throw her pajamas and get her to change so you could just lay down in bed for the evening, but the burgundy was darkening on patches on her arm and you couldn't help but stare at it.

"—so akutawaga-senpai showed up and I felt a little stupid but he-" you interrupted her by grabbing her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

"honey, can we clean off... that..." you danced around the topic, but she knew exactly what you meant when your eyes kept darting to certain areas of her skin. she nodded and you gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. "I'll run the bath and we can scrub it off. keep going, I'm listening."

she continued speaking as you did exactly that and eventually both of you were stripped and laying down in the tub. she was sitting in between your legs, with her back resting on your chest and head leaning back to rest on your shoulder. you traced her body, rubbing into certain patches until her skin was back to its beautiful glow. the warmth of both her and the water was too comforting, and you stayed longer than needed, your fingertips turning raisin-like in protest. despite this, you leaned down to kiss her up and down her neck while you gently massaged her flesh from her thighs to her hips, her stomach to her breasts. if she wasn't so tired that she eventually ran out of steam and stopped talking just to revel in your embrace, you might've handled her a little differently. yet, at this moment the only desire you had was to pamper her.

"ichiyo..." you breathed out slowly, lips grazing her ear while you kissed her again and spread out your fingers over her stomach. "mmmmn... 'missed you... i love you s'much..."

god, you would break her if you kept this up. so long together that you finally managed to put a ring on it yet she still fangirled over you like you were her high school crush. even as you pulled yourselves out of the sanctuary of steam and warmth in order to actually eat, she blushed every time you left a quick peck on her cheek or rubbed noses while chuckling softly.

she fell asleep in your arms, with her leg on top of you pulling you close like her very own plushie. it was hard not to smile at her once she began snoring and murmuring something about akutagawa during her slumber.

hand in hand, you snuggled up in big jackets in the middle of the night to fend off the frigid breeze. holding onto your fingers wasn't enough, and ichiyo was fully clinging onto your bicep as you walked with her in the empty streets of yokohoma.

"this s-sounded so m-much more fun when w-we were inside... warm... by the f-fireplace.." her teeth chattered and she pulled herself closer into you.

"you were the one who suggested getting something from the café," you retorted with a chuckle, opposite hand brought up to tuck her hair behind her ear that was starting to turn pink from the cold. you rubbed your thumb along her cheek which was going through something similar, then sighed with a cloud of hot breath. "alright, honey we'll head in. i think there's another one on this street, we can just stay there and warm up before we go back, mkay?"

she would feel a bit ashamed about being so demanding if you hadn't pulled her in tighter and looked at her so lovingly. she had such an impossible time never believing she was capable enough at the mafia, and that discomfort disappeared as soon as you whispered sweet nothings into her ear and made her feel like everything was alright.

you turned your bodies together, door jingling as you stepped inside and the air blowing down from the heater hitting you. you realized that she was right, it was too damn cold outside, as soon as you felt the contrast of the inside. you turned towards your lover with a quick look to see if her body was as relieved as yours, but she was staring at something intensely on the horizon, like she'd seen a ghost.

you followed her gaze, and it fell on a man with tuffs of white in his hair standing next to a woman, slightly shorter but with noticeably long stands of black veiling the sides of her face.

"do you know them?" you whispered, and she jumped a little. part of her wanted to drag you outside, but she couldn't lie to you or keep things no matter how much her common sense told her to.

"that's... they're..." she was struggling to say something, anything, but you noticed she was letting herself get flustered. in these kinds of situations, you liked to interrupt her with a kiss to bring her back to earth from her constantly overreacting mind.

she pulled away before your lips could touch.

she'd never done that before.

you knew better, that this was probably a question of her not wanting the pda right now or maybe it had something to do with the duo standing over there waiting for their drinks, but it hurt nonetheless when you saw her squint her eyes shut and shake her head.

"that's akutagawa," she whispered as an explanation, and you felt simultaneously irritated and relieved, the former due to the fact that it confirmed that she hadn't told her boss that she was in a relationship, much less married. you understood why but it didn't sting any less.

"who's the girl?" you followed up, trying not to think about it too deeply. "is that.. uh... gin?"

she nodded meekly, and it was impossible to stay mad for long when she was so cute. you slid your hand around her waist, turning her around so that her back was to the pair and they wouldn't recognize her while she spoke to you. your voice dropped so low she could barely hear it. "should we get out of here so they don't see us? I'm not that cold, I can wait outside if it makes you more comfortable, honey."

how could she ask you to do something like that when your words were so caring, so honest? she took a deep breath and shook her head once more. in one impossibly fast motion you found yourself on the other end of the shop, standing in front of the man.

"akutagawa-senpai!" ichiyo exclaimed just a bit too loudly for this time of the day and the serenity of the empty café. she bowed her head down, speaking incredibly quickly. "I don't mean to interrupt your evening but it's come to my attention that you don't know that I'm married and this is my wife her name is [_____] and she's wonderful and-"

"'chiyo, he won't be able to understand what you're saying," you laughed softly, cutting her off as you placed your hand on her back reassuringly before addressing her boss with a respectful nod. "it's nice to finally meet you, akutagawa-san. I've heard a lot about you."

he barely bothered to acknowledge you, but the slight twitch in the spot that should've housed his eyebrows signaled that he was shocked. your smile grew wider when you looked to his sister who was sporting the same look. you pulled ichiyo against you from her hip as if to prove that she was indeed yours, and spoke slowly to explain snippets of the current situation. gin listened carefully without a word while the man tried his very best to seem completely uninterested.

as much as you wanted to learn everything there was to know about ichiyo's other side, eventually his drink was ready and he barely excused himself as he walked out. you watched him do so, and gin nodded to you and said something about how nice it was to make your acquaintance in a meek voice before quickly following him out. you waved, and noticed akutagawa watching you do so warmly before burying his face in his coat and scampering off.

"well," you giggled, turning back towards ichiyo, "that wasn't so bad. she's cute and he's an ass, but I trust your judgement in people."

you could practically see stars in her eyes; she rambled to you the entire walk home - during which she didn't complain about the cold a single time and was nearly bouncing off the sidewalk - about how much he clearly loved you based on his expression (apparently the fact that he didn't try to kill you on the spot was a sure sign of his support). she was so excited she even suggested bringing you with her to the port mafia tomorrow, but you stopped her and told her to slow down for just one second. you loved that she was so passionate about her emotions, but you wanted to talk and think this through before you did anything.

for tonight, though, you let her radiate with happiness as she jumped on top of you, making the mattress creak while she climbed up to sit on your lap and curl her fingers around the fabric of your shirt. your hands on her hips, she sat down with her knees bent on either side of you like a frog and leaned so you were chest-to-chest. she tickled your skin to draw out soft giggles while she peppered you with kisses, littering you with her best efforts to repay just a fraction of what you did for her. you rubbed her thighs in long, loving motions and brought her up so she was sitting on your hips instead. you wanted her closer, and she was happy to oblige as she kissed your lips.

"[_____]," she said, smiling into you, "I'm so lucky..."

you cut her off with a press upwards and a firm grip. "shhh, don't say anything. I love you, you love me and that's all we need."

she murmured your name that night in her sleep instead of akutagawa's.

#so funny writing this after prev ask but wtv i can let myself be domesticated for her #higuchi bsd #higuchi ichiyo #bsd higuchi #bsd x reader #bsd x reader fluff #higuchi x reader #higuchi ichiyo x reader #ichiyo higuchi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #im unwell for them

88 notes · View notes

azucarmorena97 · 1 year ago

Text

Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.1)

Pt.2 ||

Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...

Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.

You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...

Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3

"How are you feeling? Have you got everything? Check your seat, make sure you didn't leave anything behind-" Your mom rambles, not letting you get a word in. Meanwhile, you're sandwiching your phone between your ear and shoulder as you struggle to get your bag down from the overhead compartment. "Yeah, mom- you know the way questions work is, you ask one and then let the other person answer." "Ugh, Sorry- I'm just so worried...and excited! I mean, we've only been dreaming about this day since-" "Before I was born. Yeah, I know," You sigh, finally letting your suitcase drop gently onto the floor of the plain and grabbing ahold of the handle to drag it out behind you. "Hey mom, I hate to interrupt you but is dad there? I wanna go over my itinerary while I'm here, I have like no time to myself on this schedule. I kinda wanted to do some sightseeing, being as how I'm almost never in Seoul-" "Oh, no I'm sorry honey. He had to rush off to the office but he told me to tell you that he's very proud of you and that he'll be there to get you when you come back." Your face falls flat and, since no one important is there to reprimand you for it, you roll your eyes and shake your head, "Alright." "Baby, you know he really is doing his best. He's been working nonstop to make sure this agreement comes to fruition and-" "Yeah, listen mom, I gotta go okay? I love you. I'll call you tonight to let you know how the meeting went, alright?" "Oh- okay. I love you!" "Love you too, mom." Without another word, you hang up the phone. You hate to be short with her, but today's supposed to be an important day leading up to...THE important day, and you really could've used more guidance on the matter. You could've...really used your dad today.

Oh well. No use in crying over spilled milk, right? You continue walking down the long terminal, a long line of people behind you in their own little worlds, having their own conversations, going on about their own lives; how interesting it would be to switch places with someone else...anyone else. Just for one day. You wonder if maybe your day would be a lot better then. You rifle through your bag with one hand while the other pulls your luggage along. "Aha," You say, pulling out your air pod case. You need to drown out any and all thoughts and distractions from the task at hand. Right now, it's just you, your anxiety about the meeting later, and "Rhiannon" by Fleetwod Mac.

When you finally get out of the terminal and into the waiting area, you give a sigh of relief; the plane ride had been long and suffocating, and now you're just glad to be breathing non-recycled air. It had been a long time since you'd flown into the Seoul airport, and it's much more extravagant than you remember; more ornate and, in the best way possible, hospitalesque. In the middle of your appreciation, you're shoved forward by someone behind you, causing your ear phones to fall out and everything. "What the fuck," You hiss, having been caught by complete surprise. You turn around and see a small crowd of people, all huddled in tight around someone, though you can't quite make the person's features out from behind the people. "Excuse you," You say loudly, hoping to get someone's attention, though you're not even sure who pushed you. "I said, excuse you!" You yell. Suddenly, everyone turns to look at you, and slowly, like parting the Red Sea down the middle, they divide to reveal the person in the midst of them.

"I'm sorry, I know my friends can get a little...rowdy," The person apologizes, though he has an annoyingly smug look on his face. He's tall, maybe 5'11" or so, with broad shoulders and a slim build (yet muscular, as you can see through his very tight turtle neck and slim fitting pants). His face is quite handsome, dark hair accentuating his features nicely. But you're still pissed off. "Well tell your 'friends' to please watch where the hell they're going. I almost fell over." "Hey I mean, no one told you to stand in the middle of one of the busiest airports in the world, staring at the ceiling like some catatonic zombie," He says, shrugging his shoulders. A few people from his group laugh in response, and he absolutely eats it up. "Excuse me?" You furrow your brows, incredulous to the arrogance in his tone. Are you missing something? You are the one who should be offended right now, right? "Alrighty, you're excused," He says before turning around. Again, the group adds in their little two cents in the form of 'oh's and laughter. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" You say, letting go of your suitcase and crossing you arms across your chest. The crowd goes dead silent, everyone darting their eyes at him. He turns around though this time, his expression is that of complete annoyance, "You're still here? Here, here's two hundred. Get yourself some new air pods or go kick rocks or whatever," He takes his wallet out of his pocket and reaches out to grab your hand. He turns it face up and slaps two bills into your palm, shooing you away immediately after. You can feel your blood practically boiling within you, and before you can really think about it, you're covering the five foot distance between you and slapping him cold on the left cheek, bills still in hand. "Don't spend it all in one place," You smirk before promptly picking up your suitcase and walking away in the direction of the front entrance. You feel sorry for any girl that might end up with that total loser.

You stare at yourself in the mirror of the hotel bathroom in the lobby. You'd spent hours getting ready; a fresh wax (leg and mustache... you've never been able to say no whenever the lady suggests it), new press-ons, fresh blowout, and a killer (yet modest) outfit. However, even with all that work, you still can't help but feel...completely ill-prepared. You bite you bottom lip, "I can do this. I can do this. I..." You quickly go to your purse on the sink counter in front of you and take out your phone, punching in your dad's number into the keypad. "Come on, come on. Pick up." It rings once, twice, three times, and then goes to voicemail. You try again, and then once more before tossing the phone aggressively back into your purse. "Dammit..." You lean forward onto the counter and let your face fall into your hands. Fuck the makeup. Fuck the blowout. You might just pass out right here and now. You notice your phone light up from inside your purse and scramble to get it; it's a text, though not from your dad. You open it and realize it's from Mr.Jeon Sr. 𝙼𝚛.𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗: 𝚈/𝚗, 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢; 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐! 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗.

"Shit," You hiss, looking back up at the mirror to make sure you didn't mess anything up. Luckily, you're just as put together as you were when you stepped out of your room. You check your messages once more, just to make sure your dad hasn't tried reaching you. Radio silence. "Fuck it," You sigh, grabbing your purse and typing out your response.

𝚈/𝙽: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎, 𝚂𝚒𝚛. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎.

You shove your phone into your purse and then walk out of the lobby, through the front entrance, and out to the sidewalk to wait for the car. Get your game face on, Y/n. It'll be over before you know it.

Your family has money; they've spent decades building together, both metaphorically and literally. They began working odd jobs before you were even born, scraping by with whatever money they could get, and slowly, began investing in different companies and start-ups that became very successful in a rather short amount of time. Then they began doing land development, which was how they came to know the Jeon's. They developed and prepared properties for the Jeon's to build their hotels and restaurants, which only worked to stabilize your family's economical status.

The Jeon's, however, have had money for upwards of three generations. While you're not sure how exactly their empire began, what you do know is that hotel and restaurant management has greatly increased the wealth they already had, and now all they need is to secure an heir; well, more like prepare the heir they already have, as their son, Jungkook, is the sole inheritor to the entire Jeon fortune. As they say, 'No pressure'.

You're meeting the Jeon family at one of their more successful restaurants, one that received three Michelin stars within the first three years of opening. You brought some gifts with you, which your mom so thoughtfully wrapped up for you and put in a pretty gift bag; she refused to let you embarrass her by bringing such expensive gifts in whatever random plastic Target bag. You take a moment to breathe deeply, shoving your dad, mom, the plane ride, and the asshole at the airport out of your mind. This is about your future. You're gonna do great.

The restaurant is full, but you somehow easily spot the Jeons at a table at the far end of the restaurant. "Do you have a reservation?" Asks the host at the podium. "Yes, I'm with the Jeons. Ms.L/n." "Ah yes, please follow me to your party." You follow him to the far end where you'd initially seen them, "Mr. and Mrs.Jeon, your guest has arrived." "Oh, Y/n!" Mrs.Jeon says cheerfully. You bow to them, "Mr. and Mrs.Jeon, it is truly a pleasure to see the both of you again after all this time." "Please, please- take a seat," Mr.Jeon says. The host pulls out your chair for you and waits for you to sit to be able to push it in for you. "Thank you," You say, giving him a small bow as well, to which he returns the gesture. "I've taken the liberty of ordering all of our best dishes for you to try. I hope you're hungry," Mrs.Jeon says, "Please, have some tea." "Oh thank you," You say, grabbing the teapot and carefully pouring some into their cups before pouring your own. "Should I pour into this one?" You ask, motioning to the empty place next to you. Mr.Jeon sighs, "No, that's okay. You'll have to excuse my son's tardiness. He should be here shortly." "Don't worry; I'm sure he has a good reason," You reassure. They exchange a peculiar glance at each other, though you don't think much of it.

"You know, we were worried that our agreement would fall through before this day would come." "Oh?" "Yes, we thought maybe there was a chance you'd refuse and we'd end up having to put up with someone we knew nothing about. With you, we know your family, we know you come from a good home with strong morals and family values similar to ours. It's not every day that parents find in-laws they get along with so well," Mr.Jeon says, sipping on his tea. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'm all in. This could be something that helps all of us and I'd do anything for my parents." You feel a tinge of sadness as you think of your dad. You haven't really seen him in the last three months, what with all his meetings and clients- you're hoping this will relieve some of the stress off his shoulders.

"That's what we love to hear," Mrs.Jeon chimes in, "We did bring the contract here with us for you to sign- whenever you have the time to read over it, of course." "That sounds great," You say cheerfully. This is going surprisingly well. You're not even sure what you were so nervous about initially. "There he is," Mr.Jeon calls out, looking past you at the door way, "There's Jungkook." You turn to look behind you, squinting your eyes to try to block out some of the glare so you can get a good look at your soon-to-be-fiancé. His silhouette is oddly familiar. Of course, you've met before but it's been at least fifteen or twenty years; he couldn't possibly look the same from then 'til now. No, you recognize him from something more recent...Where is he from? It isn't until he's a good seven feet away that you realize... SHIT.

"Sorry, I'm late everyone," He says, his familiar voice ringing in your ears like a pesky mosquito- that is, if a mosquito could singlehandedly make or break your entire future. "What took you so long, son?" Mrs.Jeon asked, her eyes darting at you momentarily. "Well, I'd just flown in from Paris when some crazy bitch attacked me at the airport. Broad daylight, completely unprovoked. Can you believe it? And then I had to go to Jimin's house for- for some thing and then we all got caught up at...a different place where some...other shit went down-" "Son, please mind your language. As you can see, Ms.L/n has been waiting to meet you." You slowly look over to face Jungkook, wishing you could morph into someone else- anyone else, for only a moment so as to not have to explain to this boys parents that you slapped their son in the face with two hundred dollars.

It's as though everything is happening in slow motion; torturously absorbing every ounce of energy in your body for such a simple action as turning your head. When you finally look up at him, you see his expression turn from slight irritation, to full blown anger. "YOU." The venom in his tone is palpable. You smile sheepishly, looking from his parents, to him, to his parents, and then back to him, "H-hey, you." This is gonna be the longest dinner of your life.

#bts #jungkook #suga #jin #namjoon #bts imagine #jhope #jimin #angst #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine

87 notes · View notes

snailsgoingdowntown · 1 year ago

Text

Intrigued With You

i ii iii iiii

Yandere! Pinocchio x Fem! Mechanic! Reader

Warnings: physical violence (towards reader & Howard), mentioned past stalking & threats, blood, very slight mental breakdown, mention of injuries (broken limps & burns & cuts), inaccurate portal of the game demo, when the full release comes out, this work may be completely different from the actual game. Please tell me if I missed any.

This blog contains/creates/interacts with dark content, so if you are uncomfortable with that, don’t interact.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the toxic and harmful behaviors/thoughts that take place in this piece of fiction. None of this should be romanticized or considered normal as it is extremely toxic and dangerous.

Dead dove don’t eat.

Minors/ageless blogs that are blank/barely have anything, dni or you will be blocked.

Over all story summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a too much of an interest in you.

Wc: 1992k

---

There are flyers everywhere.

Being handed out, scattered across the street, plastered onto windows – just everywhere. From a butler model bowing to a woman in one, to The Parade Master grinning in another. Advertisements, protests, novels of forbidden love, nearly everything was concerning the puppets. And nearly everything was making you sick, bile rising as you try to pretend that this is okay.

Like the world wasn’t about to be set on fire, Krat getting the worse of it.

You look to your left, Howard walking by your side. Unlike you, he’s smiling sweetly at the view, waving, and taking the handouts. It makes you envious. When he notices your gaze, you swore there was a hint of pink on his cheeks. You almost feel bad, but there was a sense of irritation, too. You should have said ‘no’.

“Is there something on my face?” He finally turns his head, trying to suppress a grin. He fails, miserably so. “If so, please tell. I don’t want to distract you,” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. You scoff.

“Nothing can distract me, not even you,” turning your head away, looking forward, you resist the urge to laugh. Because if you react nicely, in a way that he’ll like, then he’ll get false hope. False hope that even he knew was nonexistent, but to be delusional, even if for a minute, was better to live in the reality that does nothing but burns. You swallow down the anxiety and guilt. It’s getting harder to stay.

“Hm, our little (name) is all grown up – too important to laugh with us peasants,” he teases, reaching out to ruffle your hair. He stops when you lean your head away. “So cold!”

Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, coat starting to feel stuffy. You’re sweating more than you should. “How far is this place anyway?” You adjust your coat, undoing the buttons, letting the front flutter. It feels like heaven, letting the cool wind cool down your overheating body – maybe you’re coming down sick.

Howard doesn’t answer.

You ask again, twice, before looking to your left, finding that he’s not there – you quickly turn around, only to spot him looking intensely at a particular poster. “Oh, come on…,” you make way towards him, both embarrassed and annoyed. You call out again, this time only a few steps away from him. He finally notices you.

“Hey,” he doesn’t give you room to talk, “just how well-known are you?” You’re taken aback by how his expression hardens; eyebrows furrowed as he jabs a thumb towards the poster.

“I’m… not sure?” walking until you’re directly in front of the poster, all you do is let out a giggle – you knew it was going to happen someday. And it scares you. It seems that the city is going to burn, soon.

The poster was a protest against the puppets. And your uncle is mentioned in it.

You were being stared at in the café. Not by many, but a select few, eyes glued to you, and you try your best to ignore it. Howard does too, pretending that he was unaware of the hostile atmosphere. Like he wasn’t about to become a target just from talking to you.

“– and then, my mother sent her to her room. Really, all my sister had to do was tell her who she was seeing; mother wasn’t planning on telling my father, anyway.” He carries on with his story, and you nod your head along, taking sips from your drink here and there. His shoulders and jaw are tense.

“She’s just in her rebellious phase,” you lean back, taking a glance at the table across from you. Three men, one woman, all staring you down like prey. “But surely, she’ll become mature about it,” you stretch your arms over your head before leaning forward, perching your elbows on the table. Hands cupping your cheeks as you grin at him, nervous.

Just pretend.

Howard gets the message, faking a yawn. Too many eyes and ears to start anything. And besides, they’ll be the ones in trouble, if anything. Even if they manage to get in a hit or two on Howard and send you to the hospital. Chills run down your spine at the thought – grabbing the glass and chugging down the rest of your water, food half-finished. You want – need – to leave.

He goes to pay while you stand idly by the door, breath hitching once the group follows. They don’t do anything, yet, but wait in line, and when Howard’s done paying, you tug on his sleeve, basically dragging him out of the café. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask questions – just follows. They follow soon after, and you’re not sure if you’re about to cry or laugh. Maybe both.

This is another reason why you hate being involved with the puppets – the protesters that hunt people like you down, clawing at their necks, gorging out their eyes if they could. You understand, you do, but it doesn’t justify when they beat someone black and blue just because they work with the workshop, especially when they’re minding their business. Attacking when the time is right, and you’re trying to flee before they find the opportunity to land a hit, to throw a rock.

“Sheesh, to think they’d so something like this in broad daylight…”

“It’s worse at night. From what I’ve heard, anyway. Guess I’ll have to add chains to the outside of the door, bar the windows up now.”

For both the house and his personal workshop, you mentally added.

Just to be safe.

You take two turns, different street signs, different shops, and apartments – the group still follows. You look back, only for a second, only to be with the sight of them being closer than earlier. Before you turn your head back, you catch the gleam of something under the woman’s sleeve. Is it a knife?

“Keep your eyes forward and just walk. Pretend they aren’t there,” Howard grabs your wrist, keeps moving and the roles are reversed, he’s dragging you as your heart leaps out from your chest. It’s happened once before, but even then, they gave up when you took a different turn than usual. This group doesn’t care. “Keep calm.”

They’re still following you even after you circled around the block for the fourth time; that’s when passerby’s start to notice. Start to care.

Something hits the back of your head.

And then something bigger hits you, making you wince, biting your tongue to keep quiet. Any reaction would be victory to them, and any damage is also trophy worthy. Howard doesn’t notice. The people around don’t say anything, just look on in shock. Shock, disagreement, agreement, happy, horrified – different mindsets and yet, no-one does anything. No-one joins, no-one stops it.

Another rock hits you, this time the nape of your neck, and it’s sharper than the others. You think you feel blood running down. Maybe you’re imaging things.

“Hey!” one of the men finally speak up, and you shut your eyes, still letting Howard drag you like a ragdoll. You want to cry. “Hey! I’m speaking to you!” You can’t see his face, but you’re sure his face is red in anger. Teeth bared and ready to snap at something. Snap at you if he doesn’t decide to go further and bite you.

“Just ignore them.”

You swallow a sob – for once, you’d rather be surrounded by those dreadful puppets you hate so much. No. You’d rather be alone with that puppet in your uncle’s workshop. It can’t even open its eyes. It can’t harm you, unlike this angry mob that makes you bleed and fear for your safety.

You fear pain more than death.

“I don’t think they’re going to leave us alone.”

Howard doesn’t answer, doesn’t comment on how broken and shaky your voice is. He doesn’t do anything, aside from making sure you don’t end up in an isolated area – a dead end street or alleyway. You needed open areas, full of people who are neutral.

It’s when you’re hit by a fifth rock that you finally let out a sob. And it’s by the fifth rock when one of the men finally catch up, practically tearing into you as he takes you by the shoulder, dragging you towards him. You stumble, whining in pain as Howard pulls you back, grip on your wrist more painful than the stranger’s.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yells, shielding you behind him as the man stumbles back. You shut your eyes tight.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you – you’re with her! Don’t you realize she’s going to burn this city to the ground?” You can’t see their expressions, don’t want to, and you take a step back when Howard does. The man screams some more.

“These damn puppets – the protocols don’t work on some. It’s only a matter of time before they all glitch out and decide to kill us – “

“They won’t. They can’t – their systems will literally shut down if they break any.”

He’s not exactly wrong, but he’s not entirely right – some don’t shut down. So, you’re the one who scrapes them. You keep your mouth shut, trembling. It’s suddenly too cold. You want to hide.

“Right, right. Then tell me, will that always be the case? You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you? No, you’ve seen the results – some owners got injured by their own puppets. On purpose. Burns, cuts, broken limbs – it’s happening too often to be a coincidence.”

There’s some more yelling, and it’s only when someone reaches out from behind you, a person from outside their group, grabbing your hair that some finally interjects. You can’t stop the scream that escaped you, nor can you physically open your eyes – it’s only when the small group and the person pulling on your hair get restrained by some outsiders that you can finally breathe. Another rock is thrown from inside the crowd, this time hitting right above your eyebrow. You think they get pinned to the ground.

Blood is running down your face. You just hope the cut isn’t deep.

The entire situation was a mess, especially when the puppet police officers appear – human ones needed to be called in.

Everything goes black after that, only remembering attempts to hold Howard back as he starts to punch the man in front of him into a pulp.

“Hold still.”

You’re back in the workshop, too scared to go home – it’s an unassuming little shed, with only a selected few knowing the location. Obviously, Howard was one of the individuals. And it was him who was being patched up, his wrists raw and on the verge of bleeding. He winces every time you press the cotton ball on it, tweezers trembling when you can’t stay calm.

You’re scared.

Guilty.

“… I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you. “For what?” his gaze burns into your skull. Your skin is on fire, and you can’t feel separated from the situation from earlier. It still feels like it’s happening, right now. “You didn’t do anything.” He’s right, but it still feels wrong. He rubs your knuckles with his free hand, already bandaged up.

It does little to calm you.

“I know. I know, but fuck… maybe if I wasn’t so involved with the industry, then maybe – “

“They would still go after you, even if you weren’t involved at all. Because you’re Geppetto’s niece.”

You halt, shutting your eyes. It happens, sometimes. You’ll get yelled at, threatened – but you’ve never been hit. They never went that far. The dam finally broke, and now the water is rushing out. It was only a matter of time, but even so, it still hurts more than it should. Scares you more than expected.

You’re so engrossed in everything that’s drowning you to notice the puppet’s ‘heart’ beating faster than usual, on the table.

Tag list

@connorsoddsock

#yandere #yandere lies of p #yandere pinocchio #yandere Pinnochio x reader #pinocchio x reader #lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio

186 notes · View notes