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ihavethedreamies · 13 days

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Matter of Pride | Hongjoong

Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.9k

Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)

Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.

I am planning on doing the other members, might just take some time since we are in the process of moving. I wanted to get this up sooner as well, but I live in Tornado Country™.

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You weren't for sure why thought, since all they told you was that they were dangerous. You found that quite odd considering you were not full animals, and as far as you knew, predator hybrids did not literally eat prey hybrids. There was probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it wasn't till you were older did you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they weren’t going to eat you alive, you still were a bit scared about meeting a predator.

One day you were traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you ran your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you were looking for. The sun was beginning to set, the cool of late-spring settling in the air.

"No." you grumbled, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention was quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicked at the noise. The wind shifted and your sensitive smell picked up something unfamiliar, but it triggered a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tried to fight back against instinct, the sound was voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart raced, the sound of blood pumping thudded in your ears. Your furry tail swished back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you moved toward the voices. Finding a path that led a bit further into the foothills, you saw fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so would trigger something, you placed your own foot in the print, the size difference was striking. You were not a child, you were actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hit your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you followed the tracks and when you came around a large boulder, you peered around it. There was a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp had been set up there. Three figures sat around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There was a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, he was beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair wasn't as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt was much nicer as well, and he was the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath. A large axe-like knife was attached to his belt and he had a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You felt the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it swayed, your nose twitching as the wind carried their scent. You had a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you was the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smelled like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smelled like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifted again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely had time to realize what had happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he noticed. As you ducked to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes met your own. The intense look shot fear through your very DNA and you turned to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You didn't make it very far though, and the back of your tunic was seized and you bleated as you were hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you could, it was the handsome one. He smelled even better so close and looked even better. Your face was hot, for many different reasons, and you wondered if he could smell your fear. Was that an actual thing?

"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions called and he was able to hide you with his own body. He wasn't as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.

"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouted back and they went back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wrapped his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carried you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hung there, not sure what else you could do, and he only let you go when he got to the end of the path that led you in.

"S-sorry!" You spun around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn't eavesdropping!"

"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."

"W-why? Would they…" You swallowed hard, your quivering obvious to him. So were your twitching ears, and he could see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.

"Would they eat me?" Your question threw him off, to the point that he flinched back.

"What?" He huffed, "No, of course not. Is that what you were told?" You shrugged, feeling embarrassed now.

"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reached around your back, twisting so you could wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You couldn't meet his gaze, especially because you understood his implication. Also, you weren't sure how you felt about him calling you cute.

"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"

"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motioned vaguely behind you.

"What were you looking for?"

"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He didn't reply for a bit, glancing behind him.

"There's a big tree, east of your village?"

"Y-yes?" You were a little concerned he knew the area so well, but at the same time if they knew where your herd was, and had left it be, it was probably okay.

"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject caught you off guard, but you answered.

"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."

"You are, though?" Your question didn't sound as bold as you wanted it to. He chuckled a bit, then exhaled hard through his nose.

"Short answer, yes. I don't want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."

"What do you want in return?" You asked, why would he help you just to be nice. It would be a lot of work to gather the herbs you were looking for.

"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He held his hand out and you eyed it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolted you.

"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirked softly and you pulled away from the handshake like he had burned you suddenly.

"(Y/N). About this time?"

"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong stepped back and nodded for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you went, you trotted back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.

All through the next day, your eyes kept flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You were glad you were the head healer, if you had not come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would've swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you were used to it. It wasn't like she was dead; it was just weird she wasn't there anymore. Your hands moved on muscle memory as you worked through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you met the day prior. It didn't help that he was so attractive, the encounter would have been significantly less captivating without that factor. It was clear he didn't like his comrades, even past that, his appearance was very different from theirs. He had been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.

The closer toward the horizon the sun grew, the more distracted you were, and you were so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stood at the edge of the village. Some of your herd had questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you were thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year was difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accepted your reasoning. Only your mother wasn't convinced, but she also knew not to press too hard, or you would lose your patience. You didn't have too much of that.

From where you were standing, you could kind of see where the tree was, well, the rock that was hiding it. It was behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you could finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you started to trek out. After you descended the slope, and gotten over the hill after it, you knew you were out of sight, and broke into a quicker pace. For some reason, you were excited. Was it the thrill of doing something that others would frown upon? Was it that you got to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?

You reached the boulder faster than normal, it seemed your body was just as eager, and had decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushed over the smooth stone surface as you moved around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you could see around the rock, you saw him under the tree.

"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice was warm and you giggled a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you got close enough, he took a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouched down so you could untie it and look. You gasped seeing everything that was there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there was also a lot there.

"H-How did you get so much?" You looked up at him from your squat and he shrugged. No verbal response, but you were too grateful to question.

"H-here." You reached into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pulled it out.

"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."

"But!" When you moved to give him the coins, he wrapped his fingers over yours so they wrapped around the metal pieces.

"What do you want as payment then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather made…" You went back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.

"No."

"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffled stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still didn't really know how to play.

"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He was closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers went to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you could meet his gaze.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes." He dropped his hand and stepped back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"N-nothing?" You felt bad, it would have taken hours to gather that much.

"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggested and the request flabbergasted you.

"Really?" Hongjoong hummed with a nod, turning so he could move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly felt small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes went to his own hands, sharp claws sat at the end of each finger. You also had noticed when he smiled, his canine teeth were bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all screamed that he was a lion, even if his demeanor didn't. He wasn't scary, but he was majestic and beautiful.

"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rested against the tree trunk and you shook your head.

"Have you ever met a predator?"

"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You picked at a dried bit of some poultice you had made that was stuck on your tunic skirt.

"You weren't as afraid as I thought you would be, then."

"If it had been one of the others, maybe."

"Why was I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you made your face hot, you couldn't return the look.

"You could have given me away to the others, and you didn't." Yep, that was it. Nothing more to it.

"That's it?" He sounded a bit disappointed.

"Why didn't you?"

"I told you; I don't care for them."

"Then why are you travelling with them?"

"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."

"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"

"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He didn't sound super eager for that.

"Are all lion hybrids like that?"

"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."

"Really?" This piqued your interest, and you didn't dwell too much on why.

"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"

"Why not?"

"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."

"Huh."

"Are gazelle monogamous?"

"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response made him laugh; the sound rumbled through you.

"Can you roar like a full lion?" You were too curious. You needed to know.

"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"

"Not really…" Now you felt stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumped a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It was much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?" You hummed in thought. No. It was more because you didn't want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that was part of the reason you chose the trade.

"No."

"You even want kids?"

"Don't know. One would be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stared in the distance toward your village.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I'm the oldest of eleven."

"Fuck." He huffed and his reaction made you burst into a guffaw.

"Yes."

"Is your mother…okay?" This made you laugh harder.

"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."

"Not your ideal future?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiled at your obvious newly relaxed state. It was then you noticed the sun had set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.

"I need to get back!" You shot up, retying the bundle he had given you.

"Wait!" He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licked his lips, letting you go.

"Can you meet me back here in two days. Same time?" Your eyes widened a bit at the request, but you felt a smile tug at your lips.

"Yeah, I can."

You did go back when he asked.

"You came!" Hongjoong seemed genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he had been leaning against the tree.

"Of course?" You were genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn't I?"

"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He wouldn't look straight at you, and you noticed he had something in his hand. It was obviously plants.

"Is that why you brought that?" You pointed to them, and he brought them around from behind his back.

"Y-yeah."

"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gave me the time of day after saying I didn't want to have twelve children." You motioned behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warmed and you swiped your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.

"You're the first girl who didn't look at me weird when I said I only wanted one wife…" He huffed, the confident smirk coming back to his face.

"Is it weird, that we're so different?" You voiced the obvious concern between both of you.

"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."

For nearly two months you met at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrived at the tree, he met you right as you arrived, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you returned the hug, warmth flooding your whole body. You spoke like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there was something in the air. You couldn't place your finger on it, and when you went to leave for the night, he hugged you once more. When he pulled back, his hand went to cup your cheek.

"I…I don't want to let you go." He barely pulled away from the hug but did release you. His head was bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.

"Hongjoong?" You weren't for sure what he meant, considering he literally let you go.

"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilted his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingled with yours. Tears pricked your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he stole it. His lips were hot on yours and a tear escaped your eye. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, and he grimaced at your tears.

"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You asked, ready and willing. You did want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things.

"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"

"Behind the vines?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there."

Your mother didn’t ask too many questions. She knew there had been something on your mind, and she knew and saw that you weren't happy there. You never would be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You didn't have the heart to tell your father, so you said goodbye to him like it was any other time you went to gather herbs. It wasn't like you would never see them again, but you weren't sure when you would go back, not sure where you would end up. With one last glance behind you, you left your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one noticed. Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallowed hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He was there. Of course he was, it seemed he had been staying there. A very convenient hole lay in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smelled of him, and once he saw you, he moved forward. You gasped, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. That kiss wasn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulled back slightly, just so you could breathe and you whimpered at the loss. Your tail rapidly flitted back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma had grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands were still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fell on his chest, and you marveled at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grew stronger under your touch, and you could already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathed in his scent, over and over, like it was a drug.

"Fuck, (Y/N)." He practically growled, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spiked and you felt your whole body shudder. You were unsure if it was arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.

"You smell so good." Hongjoong groaned, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.

"Like what?" You wanted to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moved instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasped at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face left your neck, and he kissed you again. You wondered if that was what the elders implied, being eaten alive. His tongue had easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You had expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn't know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seemed though, that he was literally drooling, the extra saliva made his tongue glide around yours. You whimpered again, the muffled noise was nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips left yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licked away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils had narrowed to narrow slits. Your own pupils were blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you felt the need to run, flee, that you were being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turned you on all the more.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"Huh?"

"Once I have you, I won't let you go." His voice rumbled through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal built to the point you could smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma filled your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.

"You already have me." You replied, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain didn't register his next move till it was already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it didn't smash against the stone.

"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice was in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck moved to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sank into your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back, the stinging pain just aroused you further, and his hips rutted forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs left your skin, he licked over the spot and you flinched at the sting. Just then, his scent spiked, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You knew predators bonded through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, blood rushed in your ears and a drop of slick started to flow down your inner thigh.

"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffed, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palmed his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."

"Huh?" You weren't fully registering what he was getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrapped around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimpered, you had dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compared. The thing that you noticed really, what he was talking about, were the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widened, normally that would concern you some, but your body was ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.

"They don't hurt like a full lion, but I wanted you to know."

"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration made him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicked under the touch and the hand at your head brought your lips back to his. He swallowed your mewls, the hand he had on your back moved lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugged, a bleat escaped your throat, and his hard thigh nestled between your quivering ones. He immediately felt the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.

"You're soaked, love." He pressed harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seemed to have you under.

"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest was rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what was happening to you? Was he putting you into heat? Yours were normally extremely weak since you were unmated, and was it much worse because he was a predator? Did your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moved to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whined, breath hitching. You felt so small then, he easily held you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most wouldn’t even know you were there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kissed over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scrambled, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helped you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pulled it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms were fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow made the sight all the better. He never told you what it meant, and you just assumed it was an accessory. Before you could start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he held you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seemed he used as a bed. Softly, he laid you down on it, but his following movements were anything but. He ripped his shirt off and you didn't get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeded to literally tear yours off. You had only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turned it to shreds was incredible arousing. His palms were rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Hongjoo-!" Your breath was kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buried into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licked over your walls was intense. A strong wave of pleasure was quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.

"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers left you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you had never had an orgasm, you knew that's what it was. With how quick he brought you up to and over the edge, you knew you were in for a long night. Hongjoong growled, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirted from your cunt. Smirking, he pulled back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he could lick it off.

"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushed through your folds, careful of his claws.

"Please, need it~" Your foot came up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunted, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he could take his pants off. You watched, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hit the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widened, brain fogging further. Little spines circled his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneeled between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckled at the twitch your whole body seized from when the hot head met your dripping folds.

"It might sting, love." He warned once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nodded, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stung, it burned, but it was amazing. Each little bit he sank his fat cock into you, the little spines rubbed and pulled at your walls. Your slick allowed an easy glide, but his own head was swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shuddered with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he was barely half-way in when you felt another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it was the opposite, the burn heated you even further. Hongjoong laid kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it was nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick pressed against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brushed your clit and folds, and the final little push finished you off. You threw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groaned as your tight cunt pulsed around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he was filling you. When the waves of your orgasm faded, you still were shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.

"Ready, love?"

"Hongjoong~" You mewled, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ended up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulled out, only about halfway, the little barbs tugged at your gummy walls. He snapped his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he couldn't hold back. He wanted to start slow, let you get used to it, but he couldn't. The next thrust had no warning, his pace was immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He was fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body had gone limp, only your arms had any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolled and your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn't think to let him know as he barreled through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises were animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion was rutting in that cave. His tongue ran over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growled and grunted.

"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying his cock as deep as he could, pressing those little spines into your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You weren't even sure you could actually get pregnant, but he was bound and determined to fill you to the point that it would leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brought you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He was still hard as a rock though. You gasped, your lungs spasming as he pulled his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spun, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanked your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At that angle he got even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurred further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummeled against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts made your ears twitch. His hand went back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shot straight up your spine from where he had you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.

"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groaned, chuckling as your walls fluttered through another climax. Your cunt and clit stung from the overstimulation, but you needed more, you needed him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flared with heat, so did your skin as his hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grew unsteady, instead they were hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You rambled, vision already spotting with white, then nearly screamed when he came again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt sprayed out as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasped for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He was still hard. Maybe that's why your people were warned about mixing with predators. His stamina was a beast in itself.

"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groaned when your cunt clenched again, really hoping you could keep going. His body needed yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wanted to fuck you the rest of the week if he could. He might be able to, you on the other hand…

"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whined and moaned, giggling like an idiot as his hips rolled again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seemed to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sang with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registered as the sunlight faded from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You didn't think you could walk for a week after, he had fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slipped out of your cunt when he finally pulled out, cock finally softening. Your face was blank, eyes open but barely conscious.

"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fanfic

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florencemtrash · 4 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twelve

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None! Familiar faces return to Velaris and Y/n finally gets a chance to explore the city...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

I’ve been dreaming again. Dreaming of him.

Thanatos. With his milky pale skin the color of bleached bones. Bold brush strokes of black ink mark his clothes and paint his hair and his marble eyes. I should feel unsettled when looking into the face of death. But I don’t. I’m the only one who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to see his true face and I don’t know why. He doesn’t understand it either, and it frustrates him to no end.

He’s almost as curious as I am. Almost.

He came to the cabin again today, carrying that black lit candle between his spindly fingers like he believed in the Mother and was prepared to pray and sing to her like the rest of us. He says he likes to hear me during the service, tiny and informal as it is, but really I think he’s here because it irks me, and because I’m some tapestry he can’t seem to unravel.

He asked me again whether I’d call upon the Mother for him. He says he has a question that needs answering, and once he has his answer, he’ll be able to tell me how we can defeat Koschei. If it’s even possible.

But I don’t believe that male for a second. He’d sooner carve the world to bits and devour the scraps before helping us like the coyote he is.

Rest assured I will never agree to his bargain. It will take more than that to turn Bethsevah Mordeigh.

Although he said something strange that night, when the candles had dripped and left their waxy marks on the altar.

“You were made to ruin me, Beth,” he said, “And I will let you do it a thousand—a million—times over.”

He spoke in a dozen different voices, but I can’t deny I liked how the sounds came together and became his own.

You jerked awake with your hand still cradling the book against your chest.

Bethsevah Mordeigh.

You had a name.

You had a name!

You burst out of your room.

“Az! Az! I’ve got something.” You beat your fist against his bedroom door. “Az!” There was silence.

The kitchen was empty, dirty dishes scrubbing themselves clean in the sink. A glance at the clock above the oven told you you’d slept in a great deal.

You took the steps two at a time, sprinting down the hallway towards the west wing. The training arena took up most of the second floor stocked with enough weapons to outfit a small army. Wood and stone knobs stuck out from the wall at extreme angles as part of the climbing gym. The ceiling dipped up and down like draped fabric. On any other day you would have seen Valkyries with rippling arms and backs making their way up to the green flag pinned directly above the room’s center point, bodies straining against the pull of gravity. But not today.

Two of the three mats spaced across the room were occupied and you heard the beat of Illyrian wings before you even opened the double doors.

Feyre and Nesta stood against the side wall bracketed by racks of steel swords, glistening throwing knives, and an Illyrian bow as long as you were tall.

Feyre licked her lips, greedily tracing Rhysand’s powerful form as he went toe to toe with Azriel. You couldn’t help but stare as well as they leapt around the ring in a blur of wings and shadow. You’d never seen Azriel shirtless but… well… it was a sight you could get used to.

It was a dance — a dangerous, deadly dance — and although the language of violence wasn’t one you were familiar with, you could read the display well enough to know that Azriel would win this round.

Sweat glistened on his skin, slipping down the curves of his back where leathery black wings fused with his shoulder blades. Tattoos wrapped around his shoulders and across his chest, pulsing with a life of their own as Azriel cleanly side stepped one of Rhysand’s kicks. There was the faintest crease in the High Lord’s brow to let you know he was getting tired.

But Azriel was just getting started. And now that he knew you were watching? He wanted to make it worth your while.

Rhys gritted his teeth, launching out with a strike quicker than lightning. Someway, somehow, Azriel was faster. He dipped to the side, Rhys’s knuckle just kissing his cheekbones and came up for a counterstrike, slamming his fist so hard into his brother’s cheek that he staggered back.

That was unnecessary. Rhys snapped his jaw back into place.

Azriel grinned. Fatherhood suits you. But I can’t let you get soft.

There was a roll of violet eyes. Sure. That’s why you’re trying so hard right now.

Rhys snatched Azriel’s leg out of the air, rolling onto the ground in a move that sent the Shadowsinger twisting in a graceful arch that had your breath catching in your throat. He broke free of Rhysand’s hold, leaping onto his feet like gravity didn’t apply.

You met his eyes, heady and dark, and could have sworn he winked. But it may have just been a trick of the light.

You ducked your head, hurrying across the room towards Feyre and Nesta and hoping they wouldn’t comment on the flush creeping up your neck.

“Fey—” you began urgently.

The High Lady held up a hand and you fell silent. There was a sheen to her eyes that let you know she was honing in on Rhysand’s moves with more than just her eyes.

Nesta smirked at you as you blushed. You struggled to keep your gaze from drifting back to the powerful display, even as you caught glimpses of Azriel’s tan body out of the corner of your eye. Rippling, bold, strong.

“Don’t worry about staring,” Nesta said with a wicked glimmer. “The boys admire us. We admire them. It’s an even exchange.”

One mat over Cassian was sparing with a new female you’d never seen before. Illyrian, but there was something wrong with her wings. They were held strong and proud above the ground, but they dragged in places where Cassian had control over every minor movement. If you concentrated closely enough, you could make out the thin, shiny scars that had snipped the tendon closest to the apex of her wings, just by the arch of her claws.

Your stomach dropped with horror.

Her wings had been clipped.

She held her own against the Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian might have had the advantage of experience and his longer limbs, but she moved with a daring determination. She dodged every blow by the narrowest margin, conserving her energy so when she was able to slip close and find her opening, she slammed her elbow up and into his nose with a sickening crack that echoed throughout the room.

You winced, hands flying up to your face at the same time that Cassian’s did.

“FUCK!” He roared.

“Whooo! THAT’S MY WIFE!” A gorgeous, curvy blond hung off one of the ring posts, legs propped up on the tensioned ropes.

There was only one member of their family that had ever been described as sunlight incarnate. That had to be Mor. Which meant the striking female currently giving Cassian hell on the mat was Emerie.

Emerie blushed, stealing a heavy look for long enough for Cassian to snap his nose back into place. He ducked down and swept her legs out from beneath her, wrestling her to the ground in a tangle of leather and wings. But Nesta didn’t let him have the advantage for too long.

Cassian choked on the teasing words he’d prepared for Emerie when Nesta sent him a particularly candid image of herself in a strip of black fabric.

For later tonight. She whispered down the bond.

Damn it Nes.

Emerie smashed her forehead into his already swollen nose, then her knee surged up with enough strength to crack ribs. She braced her foot against his chest and flipped him over her head and onto his back, wrapping her powerful legs around his neck and pinning him to the ground with his arm forced back in his socket. Finally he tapped out.

“Poor Illyrian baby,” Nesta crooned as Emerie pulled Cassian to his feet. Despite the blood that dripped from his nose, he was glowing with pride at Emerie. “Better luck next time.”

Mor grasped Emerie by the front of her training gear and yanked her close for a long kiss that left the Illyrian stumbling back with red lipstick smeared over her lips and a dark blush across her caramel cheeks.

Nesta yelped when Cassian wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground with one arm like she weighed nothing.

“We could try that move tonight. Your legs, my face? But this time I won’t tap out.” Cassian winked and Nesta leveled a sultry glare in his direction, eyes lingering on the sheen of his muscular chest with unabashed heat.

“Get a room,” Mor called out and Emerie threw a towel in his direction. It landed over his shoulder with comical perfection.

“Says the pair that had to disappear to another continent after their wedding ceremony.”

Mor flung an obscene gesture his way and Cassian returned it with equal fervor. “Says the pair that made Azriel run for the hills when he was left to chaperone.”

“Hey! That’s on Rhysand. He never should have left us with a chaperone at all.” Nesta cut in.

“You rang.” Rhysand appeared sweaty and spent behind Mor’s shoulder and slung his arm around her. The bruises on his cheeks were turning darker by the second.

Azriel hovered on the edges of the crowd, glancing at Mor and then at you. He was mildly disappointed that you’d been too busy watching Cass and Emerie to see him win at the end of the fight.

“Gross, get off of me.” Mor shoved her cousin away.

Rhysand’s shoulders shook with laughter. He smiled at you, eyes gleaming with happiness. It had been so long since he’d last seen his cousin.

“Mor.” He gestured to you, “Meet Y/n—” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I think I just realized I don’t know your last name.”

“Halwynn.” You offered up your mother’s last name. Even though you technically didn’t have any right to it as a bastard, it’s the name you’d gone by your whole life.

“Meet Y/n Halwynn,” Rhysand finished.

“The resident intellect,” Mor said, caramel-brown eyes shining. “Well thank the Mother, you showed up when you did.” She looped her arm around yours easily and you caught a whiff of the perfume she’d dotted against her collarbones — amber and vanilla. A ruby the size of your thumb hung from a gold chain, following the dramatic dip in the front of her scarlet dress that left little to the imagination. You thought she might just be the most gorgeous female you’d ever seen.

“We’d be absolutely lost without you. I hope the Library is up to your standards, although let’s be honest, it probably isn’t.”

You agreed a little too quickly.

“Bethsevah Mordeigh.” Rhysand turned the name over in his mind, testing its familiarity and coming up empty. “Any takers?”

You all stood around Rhysand’s desk, the book propped open beside bottles of jet-black ink, eagle-feather pens, and neat stacks of parchment paper.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Fair enough.” He looked disappointed, but not surprised. “We’re only separated by a few thousand years, give or take.”

You paced in front of the windowsill, nervously picking at your fingernails until they were under threat of bleeding. Azriel noticed and one of his shadows gently wrapped around your wrists and pulled your hands apart. You looked at him gratefully and stuck your hands in your pockets.

“The oldest text I’ve seen dates back twelve-thousand years,” Feyre offered. “I’ve also asked Gwyn and Clotho to begin searching.”

“What about the Day Court?” Azriel looked at you.

“I can ask Helion to search the archives. But I’ll warn you, records dating back that far are few and far apart. And priestesses back then were less keen on recording the movements of their members. But we might get lucky with some of her descendants if they ever joined the order. Work our way backwards through history.”

Mor shot Rhysand a look. “Why ask me to come back here now? I could have been of better use searching for this information on the Continent.”

“Now is not the time for you to be traversing foreign lands. Not with Koschei at risk of being let loose.”

You shook your head. “And it wouldn’t matter. Bethsevah wouldn’t have been born on the Continent. If she ever went, it would have only been to trap Koschei. Our best bet is to search for information about her down south.”

The others stared at you in confusion. You blinked as if the answer was obvious. “Organized religion surrounding the Mother emerged in Southern Prythian and her priestesses didn’t spread out to Hybern or the Continent until the Insynthian Age.”

“Your point being?” Nesta folded her arms over her chest. When it came to the specifics of Prythian history, she and Feyre were about as useful as a glass rod in a lightning storm.

“The bit about the candles is a very, very old ceremony. People would write their prayers in blood and have a priestess burn them on a candle made with a strand of their hair woven into the wick. If Bethsevah was a priestess performing this ritual, she would have been an early member of the order. Before the Insynthian Age.”

“That would narrow things down significantly.” Rhysand nodded in approval. “I’ll reach out to Lucien, see if he’ll be able to find anything out for us.”

You pulled a sheef of paper out from your pockets and Helion’s pen. You scribbled down a note to him about what you’d discovered and within five minutes the words were racing south to the Day Court.

“How on earth do you know this?” Mor asked incredulously, looking at you with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.

“I’m a Librarian.” She looked unimpressed by that statement. “I had a religious phase.” You smoothed your thumb over your necklace, feeling for your mother’s seal — a flowering heather and fountain pen crossed over in an “x”.

“A religious phase?”

“Yes.”

She clicked her tongue, red lips turning up in a smirk. “You Day Court fae are certainly something.”

You blushed. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything else.” You went to grab the book, but Mor’s hand slapped down first, pinning it to the table and you with a stare.

“Nope. Work is for tomorrow,” Mor declared, eyes glittering with fondness. “Today, I want to see my city with my family.”

You tapped the book through your robes, counting the rhythmic swings against your hip like a metronome. One. Two. One. Two. One-

Cassian leaned down to whisper, “You’re doing great,” before waving to a male with ash-blonde hair standing beside an apple cart.

Pink ladies, honeycrisps, and ambrosias were piled high into luscious clouds. Two gestures and a flick of a coin through the air later and Cassian was shoving a small, flimsy basket in your hand. Roasted apples covered in burnt sugar and drizzled with caramel seeped into the wax paper.

One. Two. One. Two.

It was still too early for most of the Night Court, but the hustle and bustle in the Palace of Bone and Salt was unperturbed. Now was the time for the owners of small shops to haggle for prices without interfering with common business. The apple cart you just left had a new customer already — a wispy female with candy-floss hair lugging a basket on wheels capable of carrying three bushels for the bakery two streets over.

“Would you like some?” You held the food up to Azriel, but he only stumbled over a crack cobblestone street before shaking his head no.

He was being awfully quiet today. Quieter than usual.

Maybe he’s sick? You thought to yourself. He hadn’t eaten lunch either, but maybe that was just because he disliked the sandwiches you’d made. Or maybe it was because of a certain blond-haired female who kept giving him side glances with questions eating at her from the inside out.

“Come on,” you encouraged, nudging his shoulder. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Azriel looked at the apple slice you held out for him like it was a personal torture.

Cassian grinned and slung his arm over your shoulders, peeling you away from Azriel’s side to his relief. The weight was a comfort coming from him and you felt that thrill in your stomach whenever any member of the Inner Circle touched you.

“Azriel won’t starve. I promise, Y/n.”

Nyx thought he might starve. He was a growing boy, and had a stomach to match. He tapped your elbow and you wordlessly passed over the basket to him, but not before snatching a piece for yourself. The sugar crackled, then melted over your tongue, the sharpness from the apple cutting through caramel in a burst of tartness.

“How is Helion doing by the way?” Mor dropped the question casually. “Rhys says you know him well.”

You blinked at her. What did she care about Helion? “I’ve worked on a few projects for him before this one. And he’s doing as well as he can be, I suppose. Things aren’t exactly perfect in the Day Court right now.”

“Ah, Helion,” Mor breathed out, almost wistfully, “He was one of the few good males I ever slept with.”

You choked on your food, sputtering and coughing for long enough that Cassian started to slap your back. You felt your bones shake with each blow.

So… Mor had slept with your father… figures.

Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you said meekly. You shoved more food in your mouth before anyone could ask any further questions.

Azriel felt that familiar pool of jealousy bubble in his stomach at the mention of Helion. You kept rubbing that necklace of yours, Helion’s seal displayed prominently like he’d personally stamped you as his.

He allowed himself to get close enough to brush against your shoulder and a few of his shadows creeped onto your body, weaving themselves into your hair. You looked up at him and smiled.

“You’re in a good mood today.” Azriel’s hazel eyes were brighter in the morning light, flecks of green poking through the amber. “You’re smiling.”

And what didn’t you have to be smiling about? You were finally exploring Velaris. Mor, Cassian, and Nyx had touched you, albeit through the fabric of your robes, and you hadn’t been overwhelmed. And you’d finally been able to take knowledge from the book.

It had been a pinch of information as potent as saltwater. You had gotten a name, and names held power.

Azriel’s eyes glimmered with quiet delight.

“I’m just happy,” you said. “I think things are getting better, with—” You glanced down at where your arms swung side by side and you reached out a finger, allowing it to gently brush against the scars at the top of his left hand. You curled your fingers around his for the briefest moment before letting go. “And… you know.” You shrugged.

Azriel stopped walking abruptly and everyone turned to stare at him. The Shadowsinger was strung taughter than an Illyrian bow.

Mor raised her brow in open appraisal. There was a flash of something like shock in her eyes and then she was buried in Emerie’s hair, whispering something into the female’s rounded ears that had her dark carved eyebrows flying up to her hairline.

“Az?” Rhys asked cheekily, “Everything alright?”

Cassian chuckled and even Nesta smirked.

Last year he was giving Elain and Gwyn the bedroom eyes, and now he short-circuits because Y/n brushes her hand against his? I don’t believe what I’m seeing, Cass.

Some females like their males a little pathetic and lovesick.

You would know.

Cassian chuckled, looping his arm around her waist and burying his lips in her hair. He twirled the face framing pieces between his fingers like he always did, and Nesta tried not to think about how she’d first started leaving them out after meeting the Lord of Bloodshed. It would seem she had once been a pathetic and lovesick fool herself.

I love it when you tease, Nes.

Maybe she still was. Nesta couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

They do make a good couple. She admitted and Cassian was in agreement.

Feyre was thinking the same thing as you twisted towards him, hand still outstretched like there was a string tying your fingers to his. You couldn’t help but want to drift towards him as surely as gravity makes rain fall to the earth.

Does she know? Mor grasped Rhysand’s arm, eyes wide and staring. Does she know they’re mates?

Not yet.

Mor groaned. Are you fucking kidding me?

I wish I was.

Damn you, Azriel.

Azriel shook his head and forced his body to move forward. The world had stopped when you touched him, and it was only just starting to pick up again.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Nyx munched on his apple slice, staring at you both curiously before following after his mother and father.

“Did you hear something?” You stayed by his side, no longer interested in the aromas fluttering in the air from the bakery, the soup shop with its stone vats bubbling in the back, the smokehouse with its slabs of bacon crackling on grease. “From your shadows?”

“No. Why did you think that?”

“You had a look in your eye, like you weren’t quite there for a second. My mother used to say that I looked like that sometimes when using my powers. Like for a moment I was untethered from the earth and at risk of floating away.”

Azriel saved that piece of information, storing it away in his mind next to the knowledge that you had always wanted a dustbear for a pet because they were such simple, mindless creatures and you never felt overcome in their presence.

“I do feel that way at times.” He waited until your little troupe passed by the spice shops. The particles in the air always made Cassian sneeze. “But not now.”

Everyone dipped into a paisley blue building, the bell ringing with a soft clang to announce their presence.

“Right now I feel… settled.”

You grinned at him brighter than the sun, moon, and stars combined. “Good.”

You followed after the others, and while your back was turned, Mor took her opportunity. She clawed the back of Azriel’s leathers, hauling him down the alleyway before anyone could notice.

Azriel’s eyes blew open in surprise when Mor shoved him up against the wall hard enough for a rain of petals to fall over their heads from the second floor balcony. It would have been romantic if it weren’t for the incredulous look in Mor’s eyes and the fact that Azriel was still caught up in your smile and the feeling of your skin against his. Gods he wished you were the one pressing him against this wall. He couldn’t stop thinking about that hug in Rhysand’s office. He wanted to feel the softness of your body against him once more.

“You idiot!” Mor slapped him across the face and it shocked him back to the present. “Why didn’t you tell me you found your mate?” She hissed.

Azriel looked frantically back to the street, half expecting you to be standing there with your inquisitive eyes. It was still a jolt to his system whenever anyone used that word: mate. Equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. It was such a fragile word, and the others tossed it around so dangerously.

“I didn’t—” Azriel stammered. Mor and Emerie’s arrival this morning had been unexpected for everyone except Rhysand and Feyre. “There wasn’t time.” “So?! You should’ve made time.” Mor stepped away, letting the Shadowsinger back down onto his feet. He had the good sense to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck while Mor tossed her waist length hair over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed pink, tanned and freckled from her time on the Continent.

Azriel felt that familiar coil of guilt building in his stomach and he tried to remember the apology he’d been preparing for this exact moment when he and Mor would be alone.

He cleared his throat and bowed his head to the ground in a picture of reverent apology. “Mor, about what I said—”

She crashed into him again, arms looping around his neck and squeezing him so tightly he felt his ribs crack. And she was… laughing?

“You have a mate!” She giggled through happy tears, bouncing on her feet. Her heels clicked against the granite tiles. “My best friend finally has a mate!”

She kept repeating it over and over again, like she couldn’t quite believe it herself.

“Mor, please. Keep it down.” They were attracting attention and Azriel wordlessly summoned his shadows to hide them from view.

Mor finally let him go, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry I just—” She squealed.

Azriel let out a long, heavy sigh. This was closer to the reaction he should have had when Mor and Emerie announced their engagement. Instead he’d gone cold and silent.

He should have known Mor preferred females, and maybe he had known all along that Mor could never love him the way he’d once loved her. But he’d done what he always did when it came to love and ran forward with a blindfold on, hoping his aim was true but never bothering to check.

Mor furrowed her brows. “Are you upset by this? Why do you look like that?”

“What?” Azriel hissed like the question physically hurt him. “No. No! I’m not upset, I’m—” He clenched his fists and said in a small voice, “I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” He took a deep breath and winced, “And I’m thinking that you must have felt similarly when you got together with Emerie, and that I royally fucked up by reacting the way that I did.”

He could picture it clear as day — Mor’s radiant smile slipping off her face, left hand dropping behind her back to hide the glittering ruby, the tears that gathered in her eyes when all Azriel did was remain stiff as stone before dropping off the balcony at her engagement party.

Mor hesitated then tucked her honey-gold waves behind her ears like she did whenever she was uncomfortable. “I should have told you sooner.” Azriel knew she was referring to more than just her relationship with Emerie. “I knew you loved me and I let you believe for so long that there might be a chance I could return those feelings. But I was scared because… because I wanted to know there would always be someone waiting for me if…” She pressed her hands over her stomach. The nails may have disappeared from her body without a trace, but they’d been hammered elsewhere in her soul and she hadn’t managed to take them out just yet. “It was wrong of me to use you like that. To keep you waiting for so long.”

Azriel rubbed her shoulders. “I think you gave me more than a few hints that it wouldn’t work out. Chief among them, Cassian.” Mor’s gaze dropped to her feet, but all Azriel did was press a gentle kiss to the crown of her forehead. “I still love you, Mor, and I always will. It’s just a different kind of love now. I’m happy for you and Emerie. Truly.”

“Yeah?” She looked up hopefully.

Azriel nodded. He pulled Mor close, wrapping his wings around her to block out the sounds of bartering happening in the square. They stayed like that for a long while, until the shadows on the wall had dropped another inch.

Mor sniffled and pushed him away. “Ok, enough of this now.” She carefully brushed away at the corner of her eyes, “You’re ruining my makeup.”

Azriel’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and Mor noted how it seemed to come easier to him now.

The whole day you’d felt that something was amiss, but it wasn’t until a flustered artisan carrying bolts of spider silk fabric crashed into you that you realized what it was.

You stumbled into Azriel’s sturdy arms, feeling the strength and power beneath his leathers as he propped you up against his side.

“So sorry, miss. Please forgive me.” The artisan blubbered. His cat eyes glowed a pale orange as they flickered over you from head to toe, “Can’t see with this.” He lifted the bolt. There was something about his gaze that unsettled you, like he was searching for something. Like he was hungry. Or scared.

“It’s alright.” You adjusted your clothes, tucked the book behind your back so it was pressed up against Azriel’s hip.

That look in his eyes disappeared and he huffed in relief before continuing down the cobblestone streets, too much in a hurry to notice the Shadowsinger glaring at him.

“Are you ok?” He let you find your footing, keeping his hand at the small of your back.

You stared at the male’s retreating form. “He didn’t… he didn’t bow to you. To any of you.” You blinked at Feyre and Rhysand.

She wore no crown, no jewelry except the ring on her finger and the diamonds in her ears, but the male must have known he was in the presence of his High Lady. And there was no mistaking Rhysand and his brothers.

“Like Azriel said when you first arrived here, we take the casual approach.” Feyre said, and as if to make the point, Nyx shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side in a manner so like Rhys that Azriel and Cassian burst out laughing. Rhys looked down fondly and brushed back his hair.

Feyre drifted to your side, watching with amusement as Nyx disappeared into the forest of color that was the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Every inch of fabric was too precious to be wasted, and so the weavers collected the scraps and tied them together, end to end, until they became one long chain. They hung from the entrances of shops, from the arches criss-crossing overhead, and from hand-painted signs. They wrapped around doorways and caught on the shoulders of passerbys, whispering of the time and effort spent crafting them.

Nyx weaved in and out of these strands, chased by Cassian and Azriel as they pretended to be tricked by the little boy’s lithe footsteps. You gasped as he turned invisible, then reappeared four inches to his left, jabbing at Azriel’s side before disappearing again.

“He can wrap light around himself as much as he can weave darkness,” Feyre explained, staying close to your side, “I think he might have gotten some remnant of the Day Court’s power from me. It made him an absolute nightmare for about three years when he couldn’t control it. Can you imagine having a toddler waddling around and wreaking havoc that you can’t even see?”

Nesta let out a sharp breath of laughter. “I think that’s an experience unique to you, Fey.”

You had to agree. You’d never turned invisible as a child, although you had to admit it would have been a very useful power to inherit from your father.

“Gotcha! You little rascal!” Cassian said triumphantly.

You heard Nyx shriek with laughter. Cassian and Azriel both had one arm raised above their heads and with a little shake the boy came back into view, dangling upside down from his ankles.

“Don’t break the boy, Cass.”

“I won’t break him, Rhys. Gotta let him grow old enough to beat all those bastards at Windhaven, don’t I?”

Rhys and Feyre’s smiles slipped ever so slightly.

Nyx was lowered to the ground. He kept his arms out and balanced on his hands for a brief moment before walking over onto his feet with a flourish.

“Gwyn taught me that last week. She’s part river nymph. Very flexible.” He brushed invisible dirt from his shirt and continued on, leading the way towards the Sidra like he owned the place — which in some respects he did.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Just another little chapter with more slowburn antics between Y/n and Azriel! And! Mor and Emerie are here! I am slowly but surely collecting characters like pokemon cards because you know I want to have my favorites in Velaris when shit starts to go down...

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel angst #azriel spymaster

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readychilledwine · 4 months

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Hello lovely! Can I please request more cassian x reader as parents? 🥹

Keep Going

Summary - When your daughter's little wings begin to flutter, Cassian realizes it is time for her to learn to fly

Warnings - children (I've been told I need to make that a warning), Azriel being a menace.

A/N - Some short Cassian fluff to break up the smut. I think most of us have probably watched the tiktoks of Cassian teaching his daughter to fly. This is based on that ❤️

"Come on, baby! Keep going!"

Cassian's praise and shouts could be heard as you approached the training rings of the House of Wind. They had drawn you from reading, along with a little thud that had come earlier as well.

"Don't stop! Come on, baby! You're so close!"

"I can't do it, daddy." You could hear your daughter's strain and instantly began to walk faster, tugging the bond only to be ignored as your mate kept his sole focus on her.

"Yes, you can. Come on, princess. Just keep going. I know it hurts, I know you're getting sore. But keep going, baby."

Had you not been helplessly, truly, and madly in love with Cassian, the sight when you got to the top of the House would have sealed his place in your heart forever. Cassian held your daughter's hands in his. He was planted on the ground as her wings beat erratically, lifting her off slightly before she took a little break panting.

"You are so close, baby," Cassian kneeled down to her, holding her round face in his hands. "Do you want me to fly and hold you by your hands while I'm flying? Maybe getting some wind under your wings will help."

You stepped forward, going to your daughter to rub her back. "You're afraid."

She nodded, fat tears rolling down her face. "What if I get up there and my wings stop and I fall and daddy isn't there to save me?"

You shook your head, wiping the tears from her face. "You're so worried about falling that you have not even thought about the possibility of what happens when you fly." She snuggled into you, listening as you comforted her. "There isn't a single world where daddy isn't here to catch you when you fall."

Cassian joined you two on the ground, his large palm in between her wings. "Flying is one of the hardest things you will ever have to learn to do, princess." He tightened her little white ribbon, her little piece of Auntie Nesta, and grabbed her as she switched to being in his arms.

He continued. "We have to get those wings going, though. Think of how fun it will be to go somewhere with daddy, Uncle Rhys, and Uncle Az without someone carrying you. Or flying with Nyx." She hummed and buried herself into his neck, breathing deeply to surround herself with that scent of fire and freshly fallen snow that had been her comfort for years now.

You looked at Cassian, silent communication passing between the two of you. "You know baby, the sooner you fly, the sooner you get to go to Velaris behind mommy's back and get ice cream with daddy."

They both stiffened, Cassian's eyes comically wide as you cocked your head at him. Your daughter started a bell like giggle. She looked up at your mate, those brown eyes sparkling. "See? Mommy knows everything."

You nodded before mouthing, "everything," to Cassian.

"Maybe you should hold her up supporting her stomach and run with her," a smooth, deep voice came from behind you three. "That's how Nyx learned." Azriel patted your daughter on the head as he walked by, grabbing a few things for a mission and sighed. "Otherwise, I can teach you the way I taught Auntie Fey." The smirk on his face said it all. You thought back to Feyre, bruised and crying from soreness.

"Absolutely not."

"Fuck off, Azriel."

"I wanna learn like Feyfey!"

The three answers all came at the same time, making the shadowsinger smile. "When I get home then."

Cassian glared as he walked off. "You will not be getting taught by Azriel. This is my job."

He picked her up in one smooth motion, following the first advice from the shadowsinger. "Flap those little wings, princess."

A look of determination set across her face, one so similar to Cassian's, as she focused and made her wings move. "Let's do this, daddy."

General taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #send anons #cassian x reader #cassian x yn #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian #cassian acotar #girldad!cassian x reader #girldad!cassian

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girlgenius1111 · 6 months

Text

one step forward and three steps back

warnings: blood, panic attack, self harm, relapse. seriously, if you are even slightly concerned that this could be triggering for you, don't read it.

Ingrid-fight.

The weeks following your breakdown were easier than you'd anticipated. You'd taken a couple weeks off, spending the time focusing on your mental health, at Alexia and Jona's insistence. The club told the media that you were taking time for your mental health, which mostly went over well. Some, however, thought the club was being too soft. They only saw you get a red card, and take weeks off from playing; it was a tantrum you were throwing, not taking time for yourself.

Your return game saw you in the starting lineup, along with Mapi and Alexia. Ingrid was still out, being careful with her leg. You were doing better, able to focus more on playing, as well as being significantly less reckless on the pitch. Your hand had healed, and it really should have been your game.

Unfortunately for you, though, was that the other team was desperate to win. Not that every team wasn't, but the dirty tackles coming in every other minute made it clear that they were on a mission. Still, you'd managed to stay out of trouble until it was almost the end of the game.

You were trying to beat a defender, one of the players that had been playing particularly roughly. Normally, you didn't mind this, never not up for a physical challenge. What you didn't appreciate, however, was the elbow thrown into your face, connecting directly with first your nose, and then your eye.

"Fucking hell," You cried out, hands flying to your face as the other girl took the ball. The whistle blew almost instantly, and she groaned. You were pissed. "What, did you think they added throwing elbows when you can't do your job into the rulebook?" You asked her, feeling blood beginning to stream steadily out of your nose.

Your teammates and the ref were still making their way over to you, and only some of them caught the girls response.

"Gonna need to take another few weeks off? Your nose probably needs a mental health break, huh?" She said condescendingly. Alexia and Mapi sped up at this, breaking into runs to get to you. Sure enough, no sooner had the words left her mouth, and you were taking your hands away from your nose, and giving her a harsh shove. She shoved back, and both of you had fists raised by the time you were separated.

Mapi wrapped an arm around your waist, dragging you back. "Easy there, the ref will take care of it," she told you, as you fought against her grasp. You were annoyed, Mapi was normally down for a fight. Instead, she was speaking in soothing tones, her calm eyes meeting your wild ones.

"She said-"

"I know what she said, but your face is bleeding, so sit down and let the physios check you, bueno?" Mapi was pissed, but she could hear Alexia talking to the ref behind her, and felt that as much as she wanted to slap that stupid girl across the face, she was more helpful here, making you take a seat as the physios arrived.

With a huff, you relented, sitting down. The pain in your face was becoming harder to ignore, and you didn't know if you believed the guy when he told you your nose wasn't broken, only badly bruised.

"Feels fucking broken," you said, attempting to add some bite to your words. Instead, they came out all choked, and you realized you were about to cry.

Mapi put a hand on your shoulder, not used to this response. You normally didn't cry when you got hurt, and she realized the comment from the other girl had affected you more than you'd probably admit. Mapi made eye contact with the physio and shook her head slightly, He signaled to the bench for a sub.

"You said it wasn't broken!" you protested.

"No, but you should ice it. No reason to take any unnecessary risks." He told you, and you knew that he and Mapi were just aware that you were upset, not thinking that you really needed to go off. You were going to argue, when Alexia stepped up, fixing you with her general look of "do what they say or I'll yell." You weren't in the mood for any yelling, so you relented, stomping off to the sidelines, without another word to your teammates. You noticed with some satisfaction that the other girl had gotten a red.

You stalked off the pitch, heading for the locker room, and Ingrid fell into step beside you.

"Leave me alone." You told her, wanting to cry in peace. You weren't sure why you were so upset with that girl's comment, but you were.

"No," she responded, meeting your glare with a smile. "Not letting you break another hand." She joked, and you mumbled an insult under your breath. She ignored it, following you into the locker room and watching as you threw yourself down in front of your locker.

Ingrid brought over a towel and some ice, insistently holding them out to you. After you took them, wiping the blood off your face, and pressing the ice to your nose, she sat next to you.

"You looked upset out there." She remarked.

"Yeah well. Elbow to the face." You responded.

"It looked like she said something to you," Ingrid pressed. You paused, before deciding to tell Ingrid what she said. her response would tell you whether you were being dramatic or not. After you'd spoken, Ingrid's eyes narrowed.

"What a little bitch," she seethed, and you huffed out a laugh, that quickly turned into a sob. Ingrid looked at you, startled, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

"I don't know why I'm crying, it wasn't that bad. It was just mean and my nose hurts and I hate that stupid girl," you blubbered, and Ingrid held back a laugh.

"It's alright, y/n, you're allowed to be upset. It was mean. And it was about something that's sensitive to you, it makes sense why you're upset." She told you rationally. Ingrid had a way of speaking that made whatever she said make sense, instantly believable. You wiped the remaining tears off your face, before quietly thanking her. She squeezed your shoulders, and you both lapsed into silence.

You were impressed with Ingrid, for being able to make you feel better so fast. Ingrid was impressed with you, for expressing your feelings without her having to drag them out of you. It was clear that you were improving, and it filled her with relief. But for every step forward, there's always a step back. Or two.

-----

Mapi- panic.

You weren't really sure what had happened. One second, you were out with the team, celebrating a win in a club. It was a rare occasion for your captains [mostly Alexia], to agree to a night out in the middle of the season, so everyone had taken full advantage. You were dancing with Pina and Patri, surrounded by other people, when you felt it; the beginnings of panic starting to rise within you.

Maybe it was the crowded room, the lack of oxygen, the alcohol, or just a random fit of anxiety. Regardless of the reason, you were quickly growing more panicked. Without a word to either girl you were with, you had spun around and were pushing your way out of the crowd, off the dance floor. You broke free of the crowd, not processing anything happening around you. You still felt like the room was out of air though, so you headed for the door, stumbling slightly as you pushed your way out.

You leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. The air outside was cooler, more plentiful, yet you still couldn't seem to get enough into your body. You slid to the ground, pressing your hands to your face as you tried desperately to regain control. You couldn't hear much except for a faint ringing sound, and you felt completely untethered from the world.

Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jerked your head up to find Mapi's concerned face looking down at you. You relaxed slightly, knowing it wasn't a random stranger, putting your head back in your hands.

You felt Mapi take a seat next to you, her hand moving slowly up and down your back. She took one of your hands away from your face, and pressed it to her chest. You felt the steady rise and fall of her breaths, and forced yourself to match them. Your breaths were still stuttering, but they began to slow. You weren't sucking in air as desperately anymore, and the ringing in your ears was giving way to Mapi's gravelly voice.

"In and out, just like that," she said as you began to process her words. "Good, just take it slow. You're safe, I've got you," she told you, her voice and touch working well to calm you.

"Sorry," you gasped out, although you weren't really sure why you were apologizing.

"That's alright, pequeña, you can't help it." She replied. Once you were almost completely calm, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her. "What happened?" she asked, and you could hear the note of protection in her voice.

"Don't know. Too many people I think," you told her, resting your head against the wall behind you as you breathed in and out. "I'll be okay in a minute," you said.

"Take your time, I've got no where else to be," she said, resting her chin on your head.

It still struck you how much your friends cared for you. Even when you felt like they shouldn't, even when you knew it would be easier for them to give up on you, or let you handle it alone, they never did. And they never would, no matter what.

-----

Alexia - relapse.

You hadn't meant for it to happen- really. You'd been doing better. You were working with a therapist, and you'd started medication. It was clear that you desperately needed both of these things, and they were helping. You were naive to think that it would be only up from there though. Looking back, you'd realize the increase in dosage in your medication had just gone horribly wrong, the way that it could in rare cases. Having a clear reason didn't make what happened disappear though.

It had been a bad day. You'd woken up in an inexplicably bad mood. It had been a while since the familiar heavy cloud of gloom had settled over you, but as you headed to training, you felt it once again. The weight pushed down on you insistently, and as a result, you practiced worse. Your passes weren't connecting, shots weren't going in, and you kept tripping over your own feet.

This only made your mood worse, and by the time practice ended, you were incredibly frustrated with yourself. You avoided conversation, everyone discussing exciting plans for the night since you all had the day off tomorrow. You left the locker room quickly, missing the glances exchanged as you opened the door harder than necessary. You really should have expected to be stopped by your friends, but you were so in your head, you didn't hear them approaching. You jumped when Mapi placed a tattooed hand on your shoulder, halting you in your tracks.

When you turned to look at her, her face was pinched with concern, and you felt yourself grow more frustrated; you weren't supposed to be worrying your friends anymore, you were fine. Alexia stood behind her, watching you carefully. They both had yet to shower, still in their training kits, and you wondered if they were waiting so they could check on you.

"You alright pequeña?" Mapi asked. You nodded, sighing as both girls continued to look at you, clearly not believing you.

"Just a rough day." You told them.

"Do you want one of us to come home with you?" Alexia asked, keeping her voice low and soothing, expecting you to reject the idea. It was something they'd made you promise after that night. If you weren't feeling okay, you were supposed to tell them. You had yet to do this, with things improving, and you didn't want to start now. Admitting that you were having a bad day was one thing, but admitting that your thoughts were going dark was another. You were better, you were supposed to be better.

So, you convinced yourself that you'd be fine on your own, and you told Alexia as much. "No, I'm fine, I promise. I'm just gonna go home and relax." Your plans for the rest of the day consisted of laying in bed until you felt less like your every move was heavy.

The older girls gave you searching looks, but relented, reminding you that they were just a phone call away. They'd slowly begun to trust you again, since that night, trust you'd earned. They'd been able to see your improvements, and as a result, assumed that if you needed them, you'd tell them.

They were wrong.

------

In hindsight, maybe going home by yourself while in the midst of a depressive episode might not have been the best idea. Arriving home, you had tried to distract yourself, which was hard when you barely had the energy to sit upright. You settled yourself on your couch, not bothering to try to eat. You pulled your favorite blanket around your shoulders, settling in against the cushions, putting a random show on. You fell asleep watching TV, with the hopes that when you woke up, you'd feel better.

Instead, you woke up after the sun had set, feeling much worse. Your apartment was completely dark, although the curtains were wide open. You didn't bother with turning the lights on, staying in the same position on the couch as you began to spiral.

The deep sadness that had nestled it's way into the very core of your being this morning had given way some, to numbness. The numbness was normally where things went south. A combination of despair, but the inability to access those emotions choked you. You felt, so deeply, but you couldn't bring it to the surface. Instead, the shadows of these emotions danced just outside your grasp, leaving you desperate for something, anything, other than blank paralysis.

This was normally the point you turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms. Not often, and not for a while, but still, the once the thought popped into your head, you couldn't get rid of it. You knew it was the only thing that could bring you back into yourself, melt the freeze in your brain. The pain never failed at this; you knew it was bad, knew you shouldn't need to resort to this, but sitting there on your couch, you couldn't really think of any other option.

Robotically, you stood up from the couch, pausing as your phone fell to the ground off your lap. There were a few notifications you'd missed, and you stopped, opening them. All were from various teammates group chats. You ignored most of them, opening up the thread with Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid. Your mind was clouded, focused on the task you had set your mind to, but still, a small part of it reminded you that you didn't have to do this. You had people that could help, would help, wanted to help.

You remembered, though, that they were out tonight. It was Ingrid and Mapi's anniversary, and the spaniard was taking Ingrid somewhere ridiculous and fancy. Alexia had some Barcelona related benefit. Realistically, you knew they'd all drop everything to come to you if you told them you needed them, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. One time wouldn't hurt. You could do it again, just this once. They'd never have to know.

-----

Pulling the blade away from your skin, you watched as blood trailed down your thigh. You didn't feel better, not like you normally did. The feelings had come rushing back to you after the first cut, but they didn't relinquish their grip on you as you continued. You felt desperate, filled with anguish, with no clear way to get rid of it.

Well, there was one way. As soon as you had that thought, you began to panic. You hadn't thought like this in a really long time, and it scared the hell out of you. It was like you were fighting between two parts of yourself, one that wanted you to be okay, and one that didn't care if you were okay, as long as you didn't feel like this anymore. The latter had won out, earlier. You were terrified that if you didn't do something, it would win again.

You forced yourself to breath, to think logically. You grabbed a towel from the shelf next to you. You leaned back against the wall, pressing it tightly against your leg. You just needed to do one thing at a time and everything would be okay. Reaching up to the bathroom counter, you grabbed your phone.

This was the hardest part. Harder than dragging the blade across your skin, harder than hiding your scars. Scars you'd reopened now. Your hand shook as you considered your options. Your mind had cleared slightly, self preservation instincts kicking in.

Ingrid and Mapi deserved a nice anniversary. Alexia hated social events. She'd probably tell you that you were doing her a favor if you called. Probably not when she heard why you called, but regardless.

Taking another breath, you clicked her contact, anxiety finding it's way into your gut.

"Hola, y/n." Alexia answered rather quickly, and you knew then that she hadn't really believed you earlier.

"Ale." You choked the word out, eyes suddenly full of tears. You didn't sound like yourself. Now that she was on the phone with you, the weight of what you'd done, and what you'd considered, was hitting you full force.

"Que paso?" Alexia asked, voice switching from casual to worried instantly. You could picture her expression, the one she got when she was giving someone instructions, or arguing with a ref, an intensity that made her the player that she was. It also made her the friend that she was. You tried to reply, but the words wouldn't come out of your mouth.

"Y/n, I need you to tell me what's happening, now" Alexia said almost frantically. The background of people talking had disappeared and you knew she was leaving, moving fast to get to you.

"I-... I need you," you responded finally, barely getting the words out. You were sucking in air faster now, tears falling freely.

"Okay, I'm coming to you now, nena. I'll be there in 10 minutes," Alexia told you. Her soft tone was one reserved for very few people; at that moment, you counted yourself very lucky that you were one of them. "Are you safe?" She asked, feeling like she already knew the answer.

You weren't really sure how to respond to that. The bleeding had stopped, so you weren't medically in danger. The blade was across the bathroom from you, and Alexia was on her way, so you doubted you'd be able to do any more damage. Your thoughts were still rather dire, but you were focusing on Alexia, on her voice, and the sound of her getting in her car and starting the engine.

"I'm not really sure," you settled on. The Catalan wasn't sure what to make of that response.

"Are you at home?"

"Si"

"Are you hurt?"

You paused, and she knew the answer. You heard the engine increasing in volume as she accelerated. "Pequeña, do you need an ambulance?" Alexia asked. The question made her nauseous but she forced herself to remain focused, to not get caught up in her feelings.

"No. Stopped bleeding." You replied, shutting your eyes tightly as she inhaled a sharp breath. You hated this, hated it so much.

"Okay, that's good, nena. Can you take a breath for me?" You did as she asked, realizing that you'd been holding in air. "Bien, muy bien. I'm almost there, okay? Stay on the phone with me."

"Okay," came your response, voice quiet. Neither of you spoke much after that, Alexia aware that you were struggling to reply, and relying on the sound of your breaths to assure her that you were alright.

She told you when she arrived, though, parking the car and jumping in the elevator. The call cut out while she was in there, which you'd been expecting. As you waited for her to enter the apartment, trusting that she'd use her spare key, you took in the sight in front of you. You didn't pull the towel away from your thigh, but you looked at the red staining the bath mat, the blade discarded where you'd thrown it. Pulling your attention from it, you focused on the door, hearing Alexia move hastily through your apartment.

She opened the door, and had to stifle a gasp. She'd tried to prepare herself, but nothing she could picture in her mind was like seeing it in person. You were sat against the wall, white blood stained towel pressed to your leg. You shorts were pulled up, revealing the scars on your other leg. You were wearing an old training shirt, and there was blood on that too. You were shaking slightly, eyes big and cheeks tearstained. What struck her most was how scared you looked.

"Oh, pequeña," she said, voice breaking. You dropped your gaze at her words, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. She crouched down next to you, placing a hand on your cheek. She pressed her lips to your forehead, desperate to give you any comfort she could. "I'm here, I've got you. We'll take care of it, alright?" She said, words thick with emotion. You nodded shakily, and she stood back up, pulling the first aid kit out from under your sink. She took a seat back next to you, pausing.

"Can you take the towel off, nena?" Alexia asked. She didn't want to push you too hard, not sure how you'd respond. Wordlessly, you pulled it off your leg, wincing where it stuck to the skin. Alexia swallowed hard, the sight worse than she anticipated.

"Okay. I'm going to disinfect, and then I'm going to cover them." You nodded, still not having spoken. She pulled out a couple of alcohol wipes, opening 3 all at once. "This is gonna sting, tell me if you need a break, okay?" Again, you only nodded. Alexia worked fast, cleaning the wounds. You didn't ask for a break, but she noticed you flinch every so often, let out sharper exhales. She put anti-infection cream on before deciding against bandaids. Instead, she placed a piece of gauze on, wrapping it with medical adhesive tape.

You looked down, taking in the neatly wrapped area. It looked much better like this, much more manageable. Alexia stood to wash her hands. She dried them off, before turning back to you. You were staring at your red stained hands. She reached down, guiding you to stand, before pulling you to the sink, and helping you wash the blood off of them. You were docile under her grasp, blankly following her instructions. She led you out of the bathroom, quickly helping you change out of your blood stained clothes, and into clean ones. She pulled clothes out of your closet for herself, too, changing out of the suit she'd worn the the benefit. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and she'd rather be comfortable.

You found yourself sitting on the couch, like you had been before. This time though, the lights were on, and the room felt warm, inviting, as opposed to cold and lonely. Alexia moved around, keeping an eye on you as she made you a mug of tea. She sat down next to you, typing quickly on her phone before turning to you.

You felt better. Not great, not really even good, but better. You got a better grasp on your emotions, and began to connect the dots in your head. This had been so out of the blue. Normally, you only reached this point after weeks of being down. It was clear to you, now, that increasing your dosage of your meds had been a mistake. You'd always heard warnings, about how in rare cases an antidepressant could increase depression, thoughts of... the things you'd done. And the things you'd thought about doing. The explanation made you feel a little calmer.

Alexia, on the other hand, did not know what had happened. She was trying to give you some time to process, but she was going crazy. You hadn't spoken to her since she'd arrived, and you were sitting next to her, clearly deep in thought.

"Y/n, can you please tell me what you're thinking?" She finally asked. You startled slightly, before nodding your head. You explained your theory, of why what had happened happened.

"I just need to go back down on my meds. Or try a different one." Alexia felt relieved, but not completely. She could see you trying to convince yourself that, because there was a clear explanation, it was fine. You were fine. That this wasn't a big deal. She also could tell that you were trying not to let yourself get upset about it.

"I'm glad you understand why this happened, we can go see the psychiatrist tomorrow," she said, carefully contemplating her next words. "That was still really scary, nena."

"I'm so sorry, Ale. I'm so sorry you had to see that, that I called, that I messed up again and scared you," you rambled, clearly thinking she was talking about being scared herself. She had been terrified, but that's not what she meant.

"No, I meant for you. Having those thoughts must have been really frightening, especially out of the blue like that." Alexia replied, and you looked away. "Please, please, do not ever apologize for this. For any of it. I don't care that you scared me, I'm just glad you called. So glad, and so so proud of you, pequeña." She implored, watching carefully as you shook your head unconsciously.

"I messed up, you shouldn't be proud of me," was all you said. You looked like you were about to cry again, and Alexia couldn't resist pulling you into her arms. You let her, resting your head on her chest, blinking rapidly to try to stave off the tears.

"Well, I am proud of you. You called me. You wouldn't have done that a few months ago." She paused, thoughtful. She was trying to think of something that would relieve your guilt, your disappointment in yourself. "Relapses are part of recovery, y/n. It sucks, but they are. Relapsing doesn't make you weak, or a bad person. I know you feel like you should be better, but it's okay if you're not. Because of your medicine, or because of anything else. There's no timeline here, no requirements of being okay that you have to meet. All you need to do is try your best. And you are, I can tell. You asked for help when you needed it, and that is something to celebrate."

You looked up at her, the hopeful expression on your face making her heart clench. "I haven't let you down?" You asked quietly.

"No, nena. You haven't let anyone down. I was scared, yes, but all I feel right now is love for you, and pride for you." She said, determined for you to believe her. You were starting to. Her tone, her face, were so full of conviction, it was hard to do anything but listen.

"Thank you for coming so fast."

"I'll always come when you need me, as fast as I can." Her reply was almost instant. Alexia watched as you smiled weakly at her, before it dropped from your face, and tears welled in your eyes yet again. "What is it, pequeña," she wondered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You leaned your head back against her, speaking into the fabric of her sweatshirt.

"I have to start all over again," you choked out.

Alexia sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. But we're all gonna be here again, okay? All of us, for every second."

They'd proven they'd be there for you, time and time again. Their commitment to being good friends, to taking care of you, was what made you believe that you were worth it. They were some of the best people you knew, and if they were going to be there every step of the way, the journey must be worth it.

-----

I hope you guys enjoyed :). Obviously a super heavy part. I'm not really sure what else to say, other than I hope that if you read this, it can bring you comfort in some way. Asking for help is terrifying, but it's so worth it, I promise. You deserve to feel good, and be happy.

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen #alexia putellas

489 notes · View notes

undreaming-fanfiction · 11 months

Text

Eddie's mom was a free spirit who got taken too soon but educated her son in anything and everything that she found interesting. And she found A LOT of things interesting.

Eddie still secretly keeps these interests and sure, some of them are expected (weed and the best strains), some less so (obsessive reading and perfect knowledge of Edith Piaf). Eddie can even make fantastic mixed drinks ("My mom worked as a bartender for a bit and she practiced at home, what are you staring at, Henderson?!") and can quote most of Le Fleurs Du Mal from memory.

Steve learns to accept and even expect this. Mythology? Of course. Random bits of knowledge from history? Of course. The man only knows SOS in Morse code but can tie nearly every single knot known to humanity? Weird, but it's Eddie.

But then he finds out Eddie knows a fuck ton about horoscopes and astrology. It only takes a single moment of distraction on Eddie's part - Steve is complaining about his latest date, a girl Eddie knows from his class, and he scoffs.

"Well, duh. Of course it didn't work out, Steve, her Moon sign's an Aries and yours is Cancer, that's a recipe for a short fling, not a long relationship."

Steve just stares at him.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he realizes what he's just said. "Uh, I mean..." he scrambles for an explanation, "...she...sounds really stubborn?" he says slowly.

Steve blinks once. Twice. Then his mouth twitches upwards. "What is your Moon sign?"

Eddie feels like it should be a joke, but Steve is patiently waiting for his answer, encouraging smile and those fucking delicious moles. "I'm...uh. I'm a Scorpio. Moon sign, that is," he mutters and hypnotizes Steve's left eyebrow. "Which is...you know. People think it sucks."

"And does it?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, well. You know, we can be kinda...secretive? But Moon signs are all about your emotions and the inner you, so...it takes a while to get to really understand Moon Scorpios, but then we're the most loyal bunch you'll ever find."

Steve just nods, still smiling. "That's cool, doesn't sound bad at all. But - are you compatible with a Cancer Moon?"

And Eddie probably should have asked "hey, what the fuck," but someone is asking him about his interest, no irony and all that, and that isn't something frequent according to the Munson doctrine. "Oh yeah, absolutely. I mean, Scorpios can be a bit intense, but they're both water signs, you know? And it depends on the Sun sign and rising too, so..."

Somehow, they spend the whole evening discussing astrology. Well, Eddie is. Steve is just listening and asking questions.

Somehow, Eddie manages to calculate both of their charts (because Steve asked).

Steve asks a lot of stuff. "How would you make someone with your chart open up?", "What would be an ideal date for that kind of person?", "Is there something I should be careful about?" and Eddie answers everything but somewhere deep thinks man, I really envy the girl he's doing this for. She's lucky she shares the same birthday and place of birth with me.

It only clicks two weeks later when Steve invites Eddie to hang out and takes him to an alleged haunted mansion. Which...might have been one of the more outlandish ideas Eddie gave him, but he said he would actually love that and that it would fit with the Scorpio dark and brooding aesthetic, if Steve's girl is like that.

He stares at the haunted house, at Steve's sweater (the one Eddie told Steve suits him the best) and a small picnic basket and he realizes.

I gave Steve Harrington a complete guide to dating me.

Steve smirks at him and gently touches his hand, careful not to spook him. "So, what does your Scorpio Moon say?"

Eddie groans and, after briefly checking that no one is around, quickly presses his lips to Steve's cheek. "Apart from "Eddie Munson, how the fuck didn't you notice sooner?" It's purring."

The younger man laughs and Eddie could bask in that sound forever. "Pretty sure scorpions can't purr."

"With you, pretty boy? They sure can."

#steddie #steddie drabble #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things drabble #not proofread we die like Dart

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komelrebi-san · 7 months

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subby boys are the best, oml <3

i am totally not delusional but oh lawwwwd 🤭🤭🤭

tw: MDNI! sub! needy! slight perv! boys x dom! reader, mostly gn! reader, twt! links (you might have to log in to see them), bondage, use of toys, slight femboy, slight mommy! kink, pls tell me if there's more that i should add! don't like, don't read.

subby boys! who are just so needy for your attention all the time.

subby boys! who'd do anything to distract you from whatever you are doing so that your hands can be on them.

subby boys! who can't stand it when you are not with him, but they know they can't touch themselves because you'd punish them if they did. but they just can't help it!!

subby boys! who ended up being punished afterwards, because they just can't keep their hand to themselves! they look so pretty, in a petite little skirt with a vibrator shoved up their ass, hands tied behind their back. and you told them that they can't cum before you came back home.

subby boys! who just can't hold their orgasm at all, when you come back they were in tears, having cummed so many times that his pretty cock hurts :(

subby boys! who needed you so bad, yet you were at work. they'd dress up for you in the prettiest pair of lacy panties that you owned, touching themselves, hoping that their desperate whines and whimpers would make you come back sooner.

subby boys! that use your toys to make himself cum when you are not home, and he'd film himself too, wearing a pair of headphones so that the mic can catch every single noise he made. he made sure to use the dildo that cums, and he opened his legs wide to make sure you can see him pumping the toy into his tight little ass, his seed squirting out of his tip.

subby boys! that steal your panties because they smell like you. they'd rub the cloth over their sensitive tip, and of course they'd send you videos too, because they knew that you'd fuck them silly afterwards.

subby boys! when their slutty nature got the best of them, they'd dress up in a maid dress, touching himself and filming a video for you too. they'd edge themselves until he came, hard, and he even had the audacity to send you a message along with the video: sorry mommy i'm clumsy, i accidently spilled my milk <3

subby boys! are the best, right?

#genshin smut #hsr smut #kpop smut #genshin x reader smut #hsr x reader smut #kpop x reader smut #mha smut #bnha smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #jjk smut #mha x reader smut #bnha x reader smut #kny x reader smut #jjk x reader smut

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bubbleddisasters · 15 days

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(Can’t believe I’m writing my first ever x reader (kind of) this but the Self Aware Au is so interesting to me)

Code Escaping: Heartstabyl Edition.

(All Students (can be viewed as platonic or romantic, Orthos is strictly platonic though)

Gender Neutral Reader!

——-

After several attempts, and failures, they finally succeeded.

They got through

To your world.

What next? Try and Find you, Rush to your side first thing and try to casually explain that a video game character broke out of their code to see them?

Maybe set things up first? Comfy living, then an easy way to find you? Or go off clues from things you used to say or areas he saw behind you? Or did he get lucky and he’s two feet away?

Man, He should have checked the code for your location…..No time to lose!

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

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒍

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

𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 🌹

——

Truth be told, he got quite lucky.

A library is where he arrived, one he recognized as your hiding spot to study, or simply relax.

So, he found every tome he thought relevant on what he needed to know of the basics of your world, aswell as the one he last witnessed you study, and sat himself in the seat next to where you usually did, awaiting your arrival.

Was it timely? Perhaps, Perhaps not.

You’d been slightly (Very) annoyed that for some reason, none of your Riddle cards would show his appearance. The Chibi was no where to be seen, and your homescreen vacant of him.

So as you made your way to your spot, you nearly shrieked because either thats a damn good cosplay or Riddle Rosehearts was very casually reading the history textbook your teacher assigned while sitting four feet away from your usual spot.

Steel blue eyes scoped to check the noise, and sat up instantly.

“Just as I expected, you’d arrive here sooner or later. You certainly took your time, however.”

Before you could process the fact he sounded suspiciously like Ciel Phantomhive, he quite literally summoned a tea set. Out of thin air.

And was just staring. Most definitely waiting for you to sit down casually like he didn’t summon an entire china set with piping hot tea in a magicless world.

This was the real deal. Mommy Issues Supreme was now officially your problem. Good Luck.

————————

𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒚♣

——

He remembered the name of the bakery down the street you visited.

As a joke, when you’d finished book one, you’d ordered a Strawberry Tart. He couldn’t exactly remember if you actually ate it, or gave it away, but it was funny, regardless.

Using Paint the Roses, he altered a napkin into a very nice resume, and he got a job there.

When Trey up and vanished from your homescreen, you’d gone to get a pastry to cheer yourself up. Not the best coping skill, but hey, it works.

It was pretty late, and it seemed they were closing up, so you planned to just be in and out, not wanting to make their job any harder.

The little bell rung as you entered, and the little alarms in your head went off when you arrived at the counter, and a-wait, why would someone cosplay at their job? Trey and working at a Bakery fit together, but…wait a second. Thats not a wig, and thats not contacts either.

If Ingame Trey was missing, and this guy looked exactly like him…..Nope, Not Possible.

Trying to play it casual , you ordered the usual and once you had it, sat down as you normally would.

But when you took a bite of your treat, it tasted like….Strawberry. Then Chestnut. What the hell.

You unintentionally had an odd staring contest with the current cashier, who then held out a scarily familiar pen, chuckling a bit as he placed it on the counter.

“Surprise.”

After making his way around the counter, he sat down on the other side of the table, doing his best to not freak you out too much.

“Yea, I know this might be a bit confusing, and It’s probably not easy to process all this, so take your time, and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Great, because you had several.

——————-

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓♦

——

Social Media Stalking but not Stalking was his forte.

The first thing he did was make pretty much every account he could on medias he knew you had. Like Tumblr.

He decided it would be way too freaky to just pop up out of nowhere, so as he was thinking and exploring, he took a few selfies and photoshoots here are there.

And WOW. They blew up. At first he thought it was the general math of Attractive Guy + Good Photos of him = Alot of Views. He had sorta kinda forgot other people knew about Twist until he noticed the flood of “Cater IRL” and “THE Cater Cosplay” comments. Which gave him an idea.

After the annoyance of all your Caters being lost in the code sauce, you messed around online until you accidentally pulled up a page with the greatest Cater Cosplay you had ever witnessed.

You had to do a double take when the follow button said “Follow Back”. You complied with the buttons wishes and followed them back.

After a while, you somehow ended up dming back and forth with him, and his strangely Cater coded texts. You also discovered that it apparently wasn’t a cosplay, and just his natural appearance was scarily similar to Caters..and his name was Cater, which was accidentally revealed by a Starbucks barista calling out after finishing making his drink while you were calling.

Part of you suspected that this could be the real Cater, with all the math adding up, and the other half of you called you a fucking idiot for that.

Little did you know the first one was exactly what Cater was hoping for.

With that, he managed to do some kinda social media stalking ( but not like, Rook Levels, DW) and found your general area based on area matching (TY Google Maps!) and nearly jumped for joy when he realized it was where he was too.

He subtly managed to sneak that in conversation, and set up a meetup between you two, a brunch and phone shopping. Weird Pick on the last one, but you decided not to judge.

The first thing he said when you arrived confused you, alot.

With a bright smile, he waved you over.

“Hey! Long Time no see!”

Ignoring the aggressive red flag in that statement with a simple “Maybe he meant since we called” as if you didn’t call him last night to plan this out, either way, you scooted in.

You two got so distracted chatting, at one point making up a game of fake gossiping the craziest things to see if anyone reacted, and for your own entertainment.

Because of that, your drink went warm, and as soon as you mentioned it, you got your answer to the “Where did my Caters go.” question.

Why? Because, as if this had happened before, he simply refroze it. Magically.

As you stared in pure awe and confusion, he grimaced upon the realization his cover was pretty much blown.

“Whoops…Lets just pretend that didn’t happen, and I’ll explain later, ‘Kay?”

You just had to pray nobody witnessed that, as Area 51 did definitely did not sound like Cay-Cays ideal Vacay.

——

𝑨𝒄𝒆♥

—

He thought it would be fucking HILARIOUS to prank you, as, unfortunately for you, he ended up in your house, only to find out you were asleep, which gave him the opportunity to PUA (Prank Upon Arrival)

For the next several hours of your waking life, Ace of Hearts playing cards of varying sizes would be infesting your house, or when you’d put something down and look away, there was either a card on it or it had been replaced by a card.

You were also robbed of leftovers you’d been saving, and a few snacks by this card demon.

After you left the house vacant (you fool), the Knave struck again, this time sneaking out and guessing your next move, heading off to a cafe because you needed caffeine after the card madness, until you had already ordered, and you had turned on Twist while waiting for your drink.

Quietly, he slid into the chair infront of you as you grumbled.

“He’s not on the homescreen either—Where the hell are all my Ace cards?”

Hehe, Infront of you. This is the best setup ever.

Leaning back on the chair, he couldn’t contain a grin as he faked obliviousness.

“I dunno. Maybe try looking around a lil’ more?”

Not paying much attention to who was talking to you in your moment of despair , you sighed, swiping back to the home screen.

“They’re not those kinds of cards.”

“Aren’t like, five of them card themed?”

“Four right now, since Ace has seemingly gone and fucked off to another dimension:”

“Yeaaa, about that. It was not as easy to do as you’re making it sound. Just saying.”

You looked up for a split second, then did a double take and nearly skyrocketed out of your chair, making indecipherable confusion noises while he laughed his ass off, totally soaking in the success of his perfect surprise you had unintentionally enabled.

While you stood frozen in shock, he simply grabbed your things, put them in your hand, S̶t̶o̶l̶e̶ grabbed your coffee, and whisked you out the door.

I pray for you, good luck dealing with him.

——

𝑫𝒆𝒖𝒄𝒆♠

——

Woke up in either your garage or kitchen, and was confused. Rightfully so.

Since he couldn’t really find you around, but at least recognized this as your house, he just waddled around more or less, fixing random things here and cleaning up there while trying to find clues to where you might be, or if he should just wait here.

He finally found a grocery list, which you had forgotten, and spent the next 10 minutes trying to find the nearest grocery store while unintentionally locking himself out of the house in the process, so made the genius decision to hope you were still at the grocery store and dashed over.

You’re doing great, dude.

Anywho, he got lucky, because in the middle of carrying off your shopping bags, your notification that your AP was full went off, and as you went to use it, you noticed a severe lack of Deuce on your homescreen.

This lead to sitting on a bench and getting distracted trying to figure out why the hell this glitch had only affected your Deuce cards, so you weren’t paying much attention when you heard a voice somewhat far off but close.

“Oh hey! There you are!”

Assuming it was for someone else, you continued trying to fix the “glitch”, then paused when you heard the voice from before right infront of you.

“Do you need help with carrying those bags?”

The words “I’m good, thanks.” died on your tongue when you looked up, only to be face to face with the guy you’d been suffering trying to figure out where he went for 20 minutes. Ingame. In a VIDEO GAME.

Internally, you practically short-circuited, after you panicked, he started panicking, and you both ended up in a weird confusion panic that had the energy of the spidermans pointing at eachother meme.

Great job! You have now acquired a German Shepard Golden Retriever mix in human form.

————

Bonus :

——

𝑪𝒉𝒆'𝒏𝒚𝒂⤵➟

——

Unlike most of them, he had absolutely zero trouble hopping into your world.

However, instead of revealing himself right away, he decided to be the ghost of good deeds and mischief. And a random black cat you’d suspiciously find on your window sill demanding pets or cuddles.

Luckily transforming, flying, invisibility, and the rest of his magic ability seemed to work just fine.

Sometimes, you’d randomly find things placed in unusual places, spoons on the ceiling, for example, the paintings or pictures sometimes randomly taking on very funny faces, teacups and plates floating around at 2am, leaving you to assume it was a sleepy hallucination.

Other times you’d be aggravatingly trying to fix something, look away for one moment, and not only was it fixed, it looked almost brand new. Or you’d open the fridge or pantry, and notice the lack of food, then open it again, and i’d be filled to the brim.

You never noticed anything too strange on Twist itself however until you got bored one day, and decided to replay Heartstabyls chapters, only to realize Che’nya was…completely missing.

Out of sheer curiosity, you checked his Pomfieore Chapter appearance. Nothing. Gone.

Trying to see if it was just the WIFI connection, you moved rooms, only to see a blink of purple in the corner of your eye.

Lounging in the air by the window, tail swaying lazily, he peeked over, then grinned his signature grin.

“Nya-ice to meet you~”

———

Yay! Thats all!!

Holy shit I can’t believe I wrote this, feel free to take me out (Date or Assassination I really don’t care)

Alright! I might do more but they might not be in dorm order, see ya!

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storiesoflilies · 1 month

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sunday newspapers

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader.

warnings: none, just a lil fluffy piece.

a/n: series link. inspired by @teddybeartoji :3

lazy sunday mornings were the best time of the week.

she’d always wake up gently to smell of coffee, the warm aroma always making her nose crinkle, and it was almost always accompanied by the scent of toji’s newspapers. it was unique, so undeniably him, and she never had to open her eyes to know that her husband had already been up to buy her a fresh cup of steaming coffee from the convenience store around the corner, along with the sunday papers for him to peruse.

the loud rustling of toji turning over a page encouraged her to crack open the lids of her eyes just a sliver, and she croaked out a low, “mornin, baby.”

another loud rustling noise ensued, and she knew that toji was setting down his paper on the nightstand, folding it up neatly to prevent any further creases. she knew he hated whenever a big fat line haphazardly ran through the middle of whatever he was trying to read.

“morning, my love,” he mumbled, his front pressed tightly into her back as he peppered kisses over her bare arm. “how’d you sleep?”

she only hummed in response, turning around to face toji and curling up into him. it didn’t matter how many times they’d do this on a sunday, she would never, ever get sick of their routine. it was warm, soft, and theirs.

“your coffee’s gonna get cold,” toji whispered into the crook of her neck, lips brushing faintly against her skin. she shivered at the loss of his warmth as he moved to settle back onto his side of the bed.

she sat up slowly, pulling up the duvet to cover her bare chest, although she knew toji would whisk it off her in a flash as soon as he noticed. tenderly, she sipped her still-hot coffee from the paper cup and scrolled through her phone. toji huffed softly beside her, closing over his newspaper with a dramatic flare. she looked over to find him pinching the bridge of his nose and tightly squeezing his eyes shut.

“what’s wrong?” she asked, frowning, and set her phone down on her lap.

he groaned, exhaling heavily. “nothin’, sweets. just have a headache is all.”

“oh, do you want some paracetamol?”

“no, i’m good. promise.”

“you don’t look good, toji.”

toji huffed again and rolled over to her, surprising her by uncharacteristically throwing his papers onto the floor. he pulled down the duvet from her chest and settled his head right over her heartbeat. “i’m fine,” he mumbled, his breath tickling her skin.

stubborn.

she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching and massaging his scalp, and toji’s breathing slowed as he relaxed further into her touch. he would crack in just a moment; a sizzling, sputtering egg yolk on a hot, oily pan.

“it hurts me more often now,” toji finally admitted, looking up at her with those big green eyes of his, black lashes framing his orbs.

“what do you mean, more often?” she asked, alarm evident in her voice.

toji shook his head, “my head hurts. not all the time, but enough of the time.”

“wha- how long have you been feeling like this?”

“a month? maybe two.”

“well, is it just random pain?”

“i don’t know, but it’s getting worse, especially on Sundays.”

especially on sundays…

“do your eyes hurt too, by any chance?”

toji nodded silently, burying his face into her chest. “i know what you’re going to say now. that’s why i didn’t tell you sooner.”

“well, toji, maybe you should just listen! you’re always squinting when you read, i’ve told you to get reading glasses ages ago. we’re both not getting any younger, you know?” she chided gently.

so stubborn…

he only grunted in response, as if even acknowledging that statement would be admitting defeat, and toji fushiguro really did not like to lose. but even revealing to her that his head hurt was a crack in his stone foundations, a little opening for her to wiggle her way through and make him see sense.

when he unwillingly got up from the bed to go to the bathroom, she refolded his newspapers for him, went to the kitchen, got him a glass of water and two paracetamol tablets, and patiently bided her time.

exactly a week had passed, and she found herself lazily stretching, like a content cat lounging in the rays of warm sunshine through a window. the familiar smell of coffee and newspapers wafted through her nostrils, and she smiled as her eyelids fluttered open.

“mornin,” toji’s deep baritone greeted from beside her, and she smiled again as she wrapped her arms around his bicep, snuggling into his side.

“morning,” she sighed happily, peeking her eyes open to skim over what he was reading. “what’s happening in the world today?”

“hmm, everything’s shit,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“oh, it can’t be all bad, can i- oh my.”

toji looked down sharply at her, with bright ruby-red, narrow square glasses balanced in the middle of his nose. “ah ah! no.”

she stifled a giggle, biting her lip and rubbing his forearm. “i wasn-”

“ah no, not a single word.”

“bu-”

“shut it.”

a giggle escaped her lips despite her best efforts, and toji glared down at her through his glasses. it was so comical that she couldn’t help but burst into a fit of tinkling wind chime laughter, and toji’s ears turned pink.

“these were the only ones they had at the store,” he mumbled shyly, folding his paper onto his lap and taking off the glasses.

“oh, no, baby!” she cooed, taking the cheap plastic glasses from him and carefully maneuvering them back onto his face. “you’re so cute.”

she squished his cheeks between her hands and smiled sweetly as she gazed deep into her husbands eyes. this was life at its finest, those sweet sunday mornings they spent together. it didn’t matter if their smile lines were deepening or their crow’s feet made beautiful patchworks of wrinkles on their faces, or even if their eyes were starting to struggle to read and there were flecks of grey in their hair.

none of it mattered; it was still life – their life – and it would always be beautiful.

she suddenly attacked him with quick kisses all over his toji’s face, and his nose scrunched up in mock annoyance. “eugh! stop that.”

“no,” she laughed in between kisses. “you’re just too cute, i can’t resist.”

toji huffed, holding his newspaper high above in the air so her onslaught wouldn’t accidentally hurt the delicate pages. “yeah, yeah -hmph!- i love you too, sweets.”

“i love you more, mister fushiguro. especially with your red granny glasses.”

“oh, shut up.”

general taglist (open): @tadabzzzbee

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen #toji x y/n #toji zenin #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #toji with glasses is really all i can think of now #jjk x reader #jjk toji

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 months

Text

Hades x Reader || Drabble

Plot: He's a villain; So you would- could never, ever fall in love with him.

'Sooner or later you're gonna want it. And the second- the second that happens, you know I'll sup in; have myself a real good day.' - Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

... But he'll still wait patiently, for you.

Warnings: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Mischaracterisation?

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @miss_understood , and @yesthetrashbin .

The instant that you see the villain in your house, waiting for you again lounging on your bed, smoke spread all over the floor; you groan. "Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh- "

Hades only shows a flicker or irritation by your obnoxiously drawn-out moan, before its snuffed out with a roll of his shoulders and he gets up from your bed. Now his head grazes the ceiling but he comes here so often, asking you on walks with him and bringing you dinner you couldn't have scrounged for yourself with a weeks pay despite how many time's you've told him no, never, so you're past the fear of him setting the house on fire. His yellow eyes glow in the dim room and, like always, it causes a little warmth to spready in the pit of your belly- you ignore it. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be gone in a sec, okay babe? I got places to be today, anyway. Just gimmie a minute, here."

"Why should I?"

"Uh- " This time real frustration passes over his face; settling for a few moments as he speaks. "Well you don't have that much of a choice, doya babe? So just shut up and listen, eh?"

Not-at-all scared, you just roll your eyes, setting your basket down on the side table and crossing your arms impatiently over your chest. "Fine. What do you want? I don't see any exotic fruits... another walk?"

Here, a smirk slips over his mouth; The flames atop his head give a happy crackle, and he gently shakes his head. "Not this time. Unless, I mean- you want to?? I can reschedule my meeting with the Fates, if you- " When he reads your expression, a familiar and cold 'hell no' written all over it, he sighs. Disappointed, but... not surprised at all, anymore. "Right. Right- uh, look babe. I just came here to let ya know, I... "

Hades? Lost for words?? That almost concerns you. Almost makes you lower your freezing cold exterior, and ask- ... but no. No. Instead, you tighten your arms over your chest and increase the impatient, expectant look in your eyes. Like, hurry up.

"... Okay. Look. I like you, (Full name). I might even go so far as to say I'm fallin' for ya- and thats new to me. I'm lost in some really unfamiliar waters, here," He chuckles, nervously, looking truly out of his depth for a moment. "Thats never happened to me before, this is new, and I- I- I'm tryin' to do it right. Sweep you off your feet; all that romantic jazz. Which I honestly think is kinda psychotic-... But uh... " His eyes lift from somewhere on the ground to your left, up to your eyes and he gives you another half-smirk. "I think we both know its not my thing."

... breaking your silence for a moment, you give a little tiny nod; not sure where this is going. "We do." You say quietly.

"Yea. Well, between you and me- its not workin' as well as you'd think, is it?"

"... no."

"Right, so," He rolls those broad shoulders again, giving his neck an uncomfortable stretch. "I'm uh- I'm gonna stop trying."

That gives you pause. " -What??"

"-not that I'm done here, exactly, no no no. I don't give up so easy, sweetheart. I'm gonna be here, or well- around. Waiting. And some day if... And someday when, you decide ya want me, then I'll come for ya. Just call."

Eyebrows furrowing, you suddenly remember something Hades said earlier. You'd almost forgotten it, because it seemed unimportant before, but now seems significant. "... Why are you going to meet with the fates?" Does he... know something? Is going to ask something?? What-

He just grins, infuriatingly. And his body begins to disappear into smoke, and your eyes widen- because- wait! "Remember what I just told you, babe. Keep it in mind, mull it over. I got nothin but time and I don't mind using it waiting on you. You're kinda worth it, eh?" -He didn't answer your question!

"But!- "

"Lookin' forward to your call, sweetheart."

"I'm not gonna call!- "

"Uhuh."

#just a little something. this ones been on my 'to write' list for a while #Disney Hades x Reader Drabble #Disney Hades x Reader #Disney Hades #Drabble #Disney Villain #Disney Villains #Disney Villain x Reader #Disney Villains x Reader

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writingoddess1125 · 8 months

Text

It's Done pt. 2

Asshole Mihawk x Femreader

Angst and Saddness

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"She hasn't returned...."

Mihawk grumbled as he sat at his desk- anger radiating off of him like a cloak as he stared down at the paperwork he had been pushing off, instead staring at the manilla folder you had given him the month prior.

Truthfully Mihawk believed you would return, figuring that your senses would return and you'd come back home. Your sensitive heart always weak to him anyway, however the first week he had figured you were just playing hard- the second week he started to drink to help steady his nerves in waiting for you to return.. the third week he had started to drink harder and go into fits of rage demolishing the East wing of his manor.

Now in the fourth week he had emptied his cellar, having laid there in a drunken depression as he waited for you.

The reality that you had truly left setting in his bones....

On the other end, It had been a rather healing month for you. You traveled to a island closer to the East Blue rather then staying in the Grand Line- an island for yourself years ago before you married Mihawk and having a vacation home built that was never used- truth be told you were a wreck the first week.. or two.. thinking you should just go back to Mihawk and deal with his bullshit- However after many nights crying, drinking and belittling yourself you at the third and fourth week you started to clean up the vacation home. Traveling to villages near by to get supplies to decorate the way you wanted and cook meals for yourself again, meeting people along the way who had been kind to you.

It was refreshing.

You'd slowly been putting yourself back together again, sure you still cried at night- yes you did burn every god damn portrait you had of you and Mihawk in that house- including your wedding dress.

But now mentally you were in a better place, a feeling of peace finally settling in your bones-

Tonight was like that. You had made yourself a nice dinner, some tea and was reading a book by the fireplace. The peace being disturbed however by a hard knock on the door- you knew it was him...

Getting up you walk to the front door as HE knocked again. Opening the door you saw Mihawk.

Your face hardened as you saw Mihawk standing there- He looked like shit.. His shirt was dirty with wine stains, his hair a utter mess and his beard far too grown in for his normal looks.

"...Sir Dracule why are you at my door" You said sharply, seeing his eyes flash with a deepened sadness at you referring to him like this.

"(Y/N) I want you to return home- I was wrong for how I've treated you" He said sincerely clutching the divorce papers in his hand.

"I want you back" He said, admitting some level of defeat at wanting you to return- His pride getting pushed aside mildly at this, tossing the manilla envelope to the ground infront of him.

You rolled your eyes at this, finding his words foolish as you glared at him.

"Mihawk you haven't had me in years... how can you miss something you haven't had in such a long time- if ever" You say, trying to be as harsh as possible- His eyes locking onto yours.

"You loved- No love me (Y/N) don't act like that.. You got what you wanted, I'm begging for you back" He said, You feeling anger bubble in your chest.

"You still think this is some sort of power struggle don't you? No this is 20 years of you disrespecting me- of treating me like total shit! There was a time I did love you Mihawk, but everytime I look at you I feel hate- Not just for you but myself!" You yelled angrily.

"How because I loved you I wasn't smart enough to leave you sooner- I gave my youth to you and my heart and you pissed in it- I hate myself for allowing that.. and I'll never allow it again"

His eyes were of that of shock, you could tell he was most likely drunk anyway- Otherwise this level of emotion wouldn't be on his face.

"I'm sorry I treated you badly- I was ignorant and I want to make it up to you-" scoffing at his words you reached next to you angrily and grabbed the one weapon you kept in this house- A revolver.

"Get the hell off my property-" You hissed, you aiming at him as you cocked the gun. Mihawk stared hard at you, seeing the hatred in your eyes as you locked eyes with him.

"I'm not leaving till you come back home with me"

"Never.." You growled, not letting his stubbornness win. However you would be lying if you said you werent shocked by what he did next- Mihawk got on his knees before you, his hands on his knees as he looked up at you.

"I'd rather die as your husband (Y/N)- Please return home... "

He said, staring at your face of shock as you clutched the revolver tightly in your grasp.

He heard the click of what he assumed was you putting the safety back on- as he closed his eyes, relieved youd finally see his sincerity and-

BANG!

Mihawks eyes snap up in shock as he stared at you- You had tears running down your cheeks as you stared down at him. The breath in his lungs frozen as he looked before him- there was a bullet hole in the soft soil at him, he could tell that from your angle it was less then an inch from were his head was bowed.

"Damn you- I damn you Dracule Mihawk! I want nothing to ever do with you again and after today!... after this moment of what little love I had left for you I will not hesitate to cash in that Bounty on your head-"

You hissed, lowering the gun you quickly emptied the chamber before you could change your mind and tossed the bullets before him onto the dirty manilla folder.

"May the Goddess have mercy on you if you ever dare darken my door again with this bullshit!"

Turning back into your home you slammed the door hard and locked it- The former Warlord feeling the wash of adrenaline leave his body as air returned to his lungs and for the first time in years felt his hands shake-

Mihawk head slacked as he sat there- shame washing over his form... he had taken a gamble and lost- worse of all he lost with his life...

This was something he was going to be forced to live with- which was worse then any death.

Tag List-

@hungrhay @boredperson120 @foggyturtleknightangel @phantom-phantom @scaryinkdemon

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk angst

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hamletteprinceofdenmark · 3 months

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youtube

Transcript of Shelby's Video:

CW: Abuse

:readmore:

Hello! I don't know if you can even hear it, I put on, like, light jazz in the background because it seemed awkward being quiet, but I don't think you can hear it, so I'm just gonna turn it off. Um, hello! Um, welcome! We are in emote only because I'm just gonna be talking today, and then I'm gonna go! I'm gonna go!

Um, yeah, it was very, very low. There's, there's no need. I just, it felt weird leaving you in silence, but I'm here, so — Hello! Um, I want to talk about something today that, um, very nervous. I feel sweaty. I had a sweater on, I had to take it off. Um, I'm gonna try and just, I wrote down pretty much everything I think that I want to say to keep track of, sort of all the points that I want to make sure I don't forget anything. So I will be reading from something, um, a good portion of the time, but not 100 percent of the time. Um, and I just wanted to make sure I got all of my thoughts down in words ahead of time. I'm, I really like writing down my thoughts. So I did that.

Um, oh, hold on. Can I turn ads off? I think that maybe we turn ads off today. How do I make that happen for just today? Um. Shoulda had that already. I shoulda had that already. I actually don't even know how to make that happen. You know what? That's just gonna have to be that way. I'm so sorry.

Um. I'm all good. Um, yeah, okay. Today's just gonna be talking. Uh, I'm just gonna start reading from what I wrote, and go from there.

I have a really big coffee, I'm gonna take a swig. And I have my water, and I'm gonna take a swig of that.

I have always liked telling my different experiences that I've had, um, in dating because it feels important to me to share what I've learned and maybe help other people to not make the same mistakes that I have before. I'm 30. I've dated a lot. I've gone on a lot of dates. I keep trying, um, and it's unfortunate that a lot of my dating history, uh, there were a lot of bad people that tried to manipulate or control me, um, but that's not to say that every person that I've dated has treated me poorly. Um, some people just weren't the right people.

Um, and speaking out about my bad experiences has never felt as important as it does right now because silence has always brought me peace. And this time it feels like my silence is not keeping my peace. It's only keeping somebody else's peace. Um, and I never thought that I could be the kind of person to end up in a situation like I did. I'd never thought that could happen to me.

And so for me, this is important because it could help anybody else see the signs sooner than I did. Um, or hopefully avoid a similar situation entirely. Because the, the truth is it was dangerous. Um, there were a lot of things wrong in this relationship that, um, I endured some pretty terrible treatment. Um, and I might touch on some things here and there about that. But, um, if I feel like it's important to the overall context. But what I want to stay focused on is this specific issue, um, and the things that happened matter-of-factly and the things that people saw and witnessed in our circle.

Um, it took me 10 months after to heal. And I spoke with multiple therapists and tried different forms of therapy. Um, I tried somatic therapy. That one was actually really good for me. Um, because that one actually helped me release a lot of, um, built up anger I was having over the last year. Um, but the anger that I was feeling was for myself because, um, I felt like I should have known better.

I felt so stupid at myself for, um, sort of just staying through all of this. Um, and I shared my story with a lot of friends after I started talking to therapists and I was like "So, this thing happened ... and I wasn't really sure ... It just seems weird now to me looking back," and all of them told me exactly what was happening in the words that I was too afraid to use.

Um, and I was being hurt in my last relationship. And it took me all of that time to see it through that lens. Um, I even posted an anonymous story to Reddit that I have now deleted with an anonymous account. But in posting that, I found a dozen other stories that were exactly like mine, exactly the same way. Um, and all of the comments said exactly the same thing.

Um, and I was so mad at myself because I was lying to, um, at a certain point to protect this person, because I knew that if I told my friends the truth, it'd make him look really bad. Um, I didn't think that I would cry and I practiced saying all of this and I didn't cry, but it's easier to practice it when no one is listening.

Um, but he always cared more about how it looked and that was really important, not what was true. Um, and it was really subtle. When I hear about, um, when I hear about physical abuse, I think of hitting. I think of hitting and punching, um, so I thought that this wasn't violent enough, um, to be abuse. Uh, I thought that it was just like a constant accident that he kept hurting me. Um, but he's not hitting me and it didn't start as something that he did to hurt me.

Uh, he had this habit of biting, which is so weird to me now, but he said that he had had this habit since he was a kid. And even his mom said that that was true. And he said it was just affectionate and that that might have been — I mean, I think that that might have been true, maybe, at the start, but I also feel that I have good reason to believe that every part of it was a lie, but that's just my personal opinion, um, and I had no problem with just biting, that isn't even the most uncommon thing, um, but he did mention something early that I should have taken as a red flag, um, and he wanted to make sure that I was okay with him biting me because he didn't want me to come back later and say that he abused me. Which I thought was really weird considering he had never hurt me before. And so why would I call it abuse? And why was he thinking about that? And I thought he was being sweet, checking on me to make sure that I was still comfortable. Um, but of course I was because he hadn't hurt me. And why would I think he ever would?

Um, and then he did, for the first time, by accident, uh, and I don't specifically remember the actual first time that he bit me too hard by accident, because I didn't think that it would be significant, um, I thought that it would only happen once, and he started biting me more and more over a period of time, sort of throughout the whole relationship, and accidents of him biting too hard and really hurting me happened more and more frequently, um, but he always seemed genuinely sorry, and he decided that he didn't want to keep accidentally hurting me, um, so we were gonna use a safe word, um, so he could learn where my limit was, where my pain tolerance ended.

Uh, and saying that out loud now doesn't sound — Like, that's not very sound logic. Um, but at the time, I thought he cared about not hurting me. But in reality, it's like, why are you biting so hard? And why do you have to bite so hard? And it shouldn't be that hard of a problem to stop. Um, that shouldn't be that hard.

And he disguised it as this really quirky part of our relationship and was so comfortable sharing it with his friends to the point that he would do it in front of them. He thought it was this really funny story to tell and a good bit to take my arm and bite me in front of everybody until I literally shout in pain. Um, and then I have to laugh it off because I'm so embarrassed and I don't want to cause a scene in front of all of our friends and I'm sure everyone was a little bit uncomfortable, but as long as I was saying that it was fine, nobody really felt like they needed to be concerned and that's not anybody's fault because I was lying. I was lying and it wasn't fine because I would go home later and I'd tell him how uncomfortable I was. How much I didn't like being hurt all the time and I needed him to really stop biting so hard. I didn't like it and I tried telling him over and over again because he wasn't actually trying at all to not hurt me, um, but he said he would try, at first, and then he started saying things like it was my pain tolerance that was too low, or I'm exaggerating how much it actually hurts. He's not even biting that hard. I'm, I'm being dramatic. Um, but his biting escalated to a point where I was covered in bruises all over my arms and they hurt and he would poke at them for fun. And he even felt so comfortable showing off my bruises that he had caused to our friends because he would bite me so hard by accident, "by accident." He would even joke that it looked like he abused me. Um, and eventually he did acknowledge how bad it looked that I was covered in bruises all the time. So he stopped, um, biting my arms as often. And he started biting my legs instead. Um, and it was in the last couple of months of the relationship that every time he bit me, it was until I needed to use this safe word. Um, it had become his benchmark for when to stop.

Only once I was definitely hurt, um, which meant I was being hurt every single day, um, multiple times a day, uh, for all of the days that we spent together in person. And when I asked him to stop again, this time he said, "This is who he is. He isn't going to change." Those were his words. And I remember a lot of, specifically his words about certain things, especially at the end.

Um, because I'm good at remembering words and especially his wording. I became really good at remembering because he was constantly contradicting himself. And I would notice, but most of the time it wasn't worth picking a fight over. And — But he would fight me on it sometimes 'cause I would po- I would point it out and, uh, he would insist that he had never said the thing that he said, he definitely did say. And then he would say something like, "How are you so sure you're remembering correctly? Why are you always right?" Um, and he definitely said the things that I heard him say and other people heard him say.

So, he had, now at this point, weaponized the safe word and was using it to ensure that I was hurt and on a constant basis. And he wasn't sorry anymore. Um, I couldn't even tell you the last time he had apologized for doing it anymore because now sometimes he would bite me and I would yell out the safe word because it hurts so bad and he'd clamp down even harder and, just for a second, just for good measure, before letting go and sometimes I'd say the safe word and he'd grind his teeth down on my skin and sometimes he'd smile after, um, like a gloating grin?

And during this time I was filled with so much anxiety all the time that I was constantly nauseous. Gagging daily, um, on occasion throwing up because of the pit that was in my stomach. I never told him about that though. I was going and running away quietly to throw up in the toilet and rejoin our group of friends.

Um, but I felt so unwanted and ignored. Um, and I would tell him that and then he would reassure me that he wanted to be together and he loved me. He loved me more than I loved him, even. He would always insist that that was true, like the, "I love you." "I love you more," but he was like, really serious about it.

Um, and looking back, I do believe that the way I was swept off my feet at the beginning of this relationship was 100 percent love bombing. Um, and we were friends for a time. Um, at least people would have thought that, actually, but I use the word friend very loosely because, um, we had actually never spoke to each other outside of group chats we were in together when, like a handful of times throughout the, the whole time that we knew each other, um, but did not talk to each other.

So I wouldn't have even called him my friend until he found out I was single, waited a few weeks to reach out, and then we started a friendship and then that friendship turned romantic and then he made these huge romantic gestures. He wrote me the most beautiful love letter that I had ever read. Um, he called me his soulmate. He talked about "forever" one month in. He told me he hadn't been in a relationship in five years. He thought he could never find love again before he met me. He said he wanted someone to grow with. He wanted to be a dad. He had all his names picked out and I didn't have a preference because I — My feeling of it is that the timing is right and with the right person, I could, um, but if that doesn't work out in time or the time, you know, I, I'm not super pressed about it. Um, but I started opening my mind up to the idea with him because it seemed so important to him. And I kept trying to talk to him to figure out where he was, later on, when I could tell things like, were declining.

And, um, now all of a sudden he's telling me he's not sure he wants kids at all. In fact, he has never been attached to the idea of kids. Um, and I told him that isn't what he said before, and he said he's allowed to change his mind. And I'm of the opinion that in a relationship, there are a few things that you are not actually allowed to change your mind without letting your partner know.

I think that kids is one of them. It wasn't even important to me. Um, and I think marriage is one of them, so I brought that up next. And I asked if he still wanted marriage. He said he wanted to marry me. And then he said, now, "I'm not the co-" quote, "I'm not the commitment guy. You know that."

I didn't know that.

Why are you dating me?

In fact, he was telling me the exact opposite every day. Uh, he would tell me he still wanted to be together. He wanted to work on all of the problems. He wanted to, like, he wanted me at the end of everything. He did not want to break up. He made that very clear. And uh, I have though, caught him in lies before, but usually it was small stuff and I, again, I didn't want to, it wasn't anything that ever seemed worth rocking the boat over, uh, which isn't normal for me.

I hate lies. Um, and yet I ended up lying for him. So, uh, but he had lied about big things and he had also been caught lying by his friends numerous times. So this is something that he feels is acceptable to do. And everything reached a breaking point when he was about to leave for an extended period of time.

We were not going to see each other very much, a few days out of every few months, um, and now suddenly he is dumping all of these problems that he has been having feelings about all of this time later. Um, at one point he said he's been feeling this way a couple of months. At another point, he says he's been feeling this way for six months, immediately contradicting him- contradicting himself in the same conversation.

And with no time to do anything about it. I arrived — the one of — Never mind. I'm gonna get to something later, but I literally arrived for three days for this conversation to happen and then leave. Um, my cat just woke up and she's not usually awake right now — Hi, my love. It's really close to her dinner time. I should have fed her early.

Um, so no time to fix any of the problems all the sudden because there are three days before he leaves and he insisted he did not want to break up. He, and so, he was expecting me to have a solution somehow, magically, and I gave a number of solutions that would have a way forward for us to be together, but he refused to make any compromise, um, whatsoever.

And he said that "the relationship was starting to feel like a responsibility," towards the end. Also his words. Um, so it wasn't a responsibility the whole rest of the time to him. And he was at this point, basically flaunting that he would never prioritize me over anything. Um — she's eating my laundry. Please don't cause problems. — Um, and I wasn't even asking for literally even the bare minimum. I was asking for so little and he — I was watching him give exactly what I was needing in the relationship all over the place to anybody else who, who just happened to ask and just wasn't me. So, um, and he also, he was never going to prioritize me over anything that would give him more fame or money.

In fact, he said that himself. He, uh, that was exactly why he was not going to compromise at all for a solution for us to be together. Because he said he wanted to see how much fame and money he could get. Um, and I just thought we wanted to be together. I thought that's what we both wanted, because that's what he was still saying he wanted to.

Um, but then he also admitted to me that he had grown resent- uh, he had grown to resent me. And I have to be thankful that he said that bit out loud. A lot of these bits he said out loud. Because that was the last push that I needed to get myself out.

He had grown resentful, which I also pointed out that there was no reason. Like, there was no reason to feel that way and he admitted that there was no reason for him to feel that way either. I think that it was because I'm someone who can communicate how I feel. Um, but, I don't know, I think, there, I have a lot of theories and reasons why I believe things happen the way that they did and why he was lying all of the time.

Um, but, he was "resentful" of me, was causing me physical harm every day, multiple times a day, despite me telling him over and over again to stop. He wasn't going to change, and he wasn't going to end the relationship. He was going to keep hurting me, and it was possibly going to escalate even further. So I broke up with him.

And I didn't even want to. Um, because I couldn't even see for such a long time after, um, what it really was that had happened. That he had abused me. And, in fact, we left things as, we want to be friends, and he can never imagine not speaking to me again. Um, and then he never spoke to me again. Uh, outside of like a couple of exchanges where I needed to ask for my clothes to be shipped, um, so at least I got my clothes back, uh, I had a whole closet full.

However, uh, he did throw away all of my other things, uh, without saying a word to me about it. Hundreds of dollars of things from my office were trashed without a word, and I didn't block him till ten months later because I wanted an open door still. I really thought I wanted to be his friend. Um, but, uh, I don't feel that way anymore.

I do believe he was bottling up so many emotions, uh, and he would never talk about how he felt. Um, I, I think he even, I mean, he did admit that he felt like he couldn't say it any sooner. Like, there was just no possible way to say how he was feeling sooner than the absolute last possible chance. Like, not even a chance, because three days before he left, that was actually a lie too, also.

He didn't leave for another week after I left. He, he brought me in, had this three day conversation, he was supposed to leave, and then he stayed for another week before he left, uh, with all of the friends that I was also meant to see, but he had lied to me about the dates too.

Um, but I do believe that there, uh, that he was bottling up so many emotions that he was taking it out on me physically. I believe there was a moment where he knew that he didn't want to be in the relationship anymore and instead of just ending it, he tried to push me away any way he knew would hurt me. And he knew all of the ways that would hurt me the most. And he knew he was hurting me. There was no way that he didn't know because of the safe word that he made.

Uh, and he just didn't care. He was hurting me and he didn't care. And even looked like he was enjoying it, sometimes. Um, and I can look back now and I can see all these instances that were really major red flags. Um, there was this one time that he pinned me down and asked me to try my absolute hardest to get him off of me.

And I couldn't do it, obviously. And he said something to make the point that he was so much stronger than me that I wouldn't be able to fight him back. Fight back against what? What do you mean? You don't say shit like that to people? That's insane. Um, and I was also sexually assaulted by my first boyfriend, and he knew that.

Um, he had stopped giving anything to the relationship, and he said that why was because he "was just waiting for things to change on their own." Um, he said he also "didn't have the time or energy anyway to do the things that I was asking for." Um, but then would constantly make any bit of time and energy for anybody and anything but me.

Uh, and he would say he wanted more quality time, so then I would try to arrange things for us to do online because we were, uh, long distance, but then he would complain that he doesn't want to spend all of his time on the computer anymore. Uh, and then we'd be there in person and all he wants to do is stay inside, play games on his computer, watch movies. He doesn't want to go out.

Um, and I'm not saying any of this next part to be mean, um, he lived in filth like I have never seen, and I've seen filth. This was the worst. Uh, he would spill things on the floor and never, literally never clean them up. Uh, he got an ant infestation once, um, and wasn't going to do anything about it because he said, he said "Bugs are normal in British houses," um, so I had to buy Antkiller. And he wouldn't clean his bathroom for months, and months, and months, but would constantly complain about how bad it smelled, and I would tell him, that's mould. It's mould. He complained about being tired all the time too, which I don't know if that was a lie or not, but mould will do that too.

But he would insist that it wasn't, somehow, without having cleaned in months. But it's not mould. Um, when I met him, he was washing his clothes without detergent. Um, just, he wasn't using that at all, and I don't know for how long before I met him. He was just running it with water and then hanging it on his filthy kitchen cabinets.

Um, and I felt bad. I felt bad because I felt like he needed someone to help him learn how to be cleaner. I thought he just didn't know how and I listened to all of the struggles of his upbringing and I was like, "He just doesn't know how. Someone just needs to show him." Um, and then I found out that he said he doesn't clean at all when I'm not there because he just waits for me to get there to do it.

Um, and I only found out about that after we broke up because he said it behind my back. Uh, I was doing all of the cleaning and laundry for him. Also, I had a separate bathroom. I want to make that clear. I wasn't using that bathroom. I had a separate bathroom that I cleaned for myself. I had cleaning supplies. I don't think he even actually knew I had cleaning supplies in there. Um, but I had my own bathroom.

Um, all the, all the cleaning, all the laundry. All of it. I was paying for. All of the, um, like paper towels, like soap, all of that only stayed in the house so long as I was buying it. Um, I would arrive and there would just not be toilet paper in the whole house. There were paper towels instead. And who knows for how long, too.

Um, I was paying for food more than half the time. Uh, because he would often push me into ordering food for us even if I had paid for the last meal, or the meal before that. Um, and I'm of the opinion now that I shouldn't have been paying for any food. Um, none at all, but I wanted to at least, I thought I was being equal by at least doing like a back and forth. Um, but, uh, I ended up paying for food more often than just going back and forth anyway. And he would do this to his friends all the time too. Um, but I was also paying for every plane ticket and the cat sitter, which cost roughly the amount of a plane ticket to England.

Um, and he never offered to help me pay after the couple of times he did come here to visit me because he paid for the flights that we would both take. Um, but that only happened twice at the very beginning. I have actually had a friend tell me that, that this is financial abuse, but I don't know enough about that to say for myself, but I was telling him that I couldn't afford it, uh, all by myself all the time because I was losing money. I was never able to work properly there and he wasn't traveling at all to see me anymore, even though he said he would. Uh, that was like the basis of our entire relationship starting off. Um, so then he agreed to pay for the cat sitter so that it would be basically paying half the cost of my travels. Um, and he did that once, and then never did it again, uh, despite many more months of dating.

Uh, and I was traveling often. Um, I had to. Because he was worried that we weren't spending enough quality time together. And then all of the time that he would have ever extra, he would choose, choose, to not spend it on me because there was an available choice and he chose not to spend it with me. Often.

Um, and I did everything short of just up and move there, which I was willing to do the whole time. And I told him that I was willing to do it and he knew, uh, but he insisted that I don't. He insisted not to. He was planning to move here. That was supposed to happen first.

Um, and then at the end of the relationship, he said, "Maybe things would have been different if I lived there." If I lived there. Uh, like I had said I would the whole time and he insisted I don't. Maybe that could have saved the relationship. Um, and I say all of this because I believe that people like this are genuinely dangerous. I believe he is dangerous.

Um, he was willing to lie. He was willing to do harm to someone he claimed to love more than anyone he has ever loved. Uh, his actions escalated, um, and I don't think that I'll be the last person that he hurts. Uh, and I felt like sharing my story was really important to warn people. Um, I want people to see the signs that I refused to.

I want you to listen to your body. Um, and get out as soon as possible. Tell your friends the truth and let them help you.

Um, I really thought I, I couldn't — Because I had been sexually assaulted in a previous relationship, I just thought I was so much smarter. To never — and I was like, "if someone ever laid their hands on me, I'd leave immediately. It would never happen a second time." But you, you just, it just kind of happened so slowly over time, and got worse, and worse, and worse, until the point where there's no way to deny the fact that he was hurting me and he knew, and, and didn't care.

That's just the kind of thing that I keep repeating to myself when I'm like, "But was it bad enough? What? It wasn't violent enough." Um, but I was being hurt multiple times every single day. Days, and days, and days, and days, for a month at a time in a row, uh, and I'm not even speaking on most, because I did touch on other things, but I am not even speaking on most of the other things that, in my opinion, I do think that there are some things that are across a line that make you a bad person.

I don't think that most people can be defined in a black and white, you're good or you're bad, but I do believe that there is a line that you can cross and only bad people will do the things on the other side of that line. You know what I mean? Um, and I watched a couple of things cross that line. And I just, I, I truly feel now that my soul is so healed.

Um, I am light years beyond him. Uh, this was the last thing that I felt like I needed to do — That's my cat. — Um, before I could move forward and hopefully never talk about him ever again. Outside of maybe my stories that I want to tell about other shitty things he did. Anonymously mixed in with the other stories I still have of shitty things that shitty exes did.

Because I think it's important for us to share our stories and our experiences. I think it's important for all of us to know that we deserve so much better than this. Um, and I think that if people don't want us to talk about the shitty things that they do, then they shouldn't do shitty things. Um, and this just felt so important to share.

I always wanted to share my experiences. I always will. Um, and that's kind of it. That's it. That's the end of everything I prepared. I reserve the right, uh, entirely to change my mind later and tell every story I want to, um, but for now that's all I really have, I feel like, from my soul, I want to speak on. Because I think that this can help other people.

I think that it can help other victims. Um, I have already talked to a number of — I only cry now when I'm talking about my friends! Who also dealt with such shitty things from shitty people. Um, but I'm also so, so grateful for all of my friends who were through, uh, with me through this whole thing. And my friends who also were experiencing similar, similar sorts of situations, um, at the same time, and we kind of went through it together. So, um, I think they are the strongest people in the whole world, and they made me feel like the strongest people in the whole world today. Did I call myself people? I meant person. I feel like the strongest people — I did it again. — I feel like the strongest person. They made me feel so brave. I felt impenetrable today. Um, but I am gonna go now because my friends are coming over and we're immediately gonna go become distracted by watching Love Is Blind. I already watched all of it already and I don't care.

So thank you, um, for listening. Thank you everyone who gifted subs. Um, um, I am going to be taking, uh, the rest of the week off from streaming. I have a video going out on Saturday and I'll be back next week and, uh, you won't hear about any of this again for a while, probably. But, uh, thank you all. I don't really even know what to do now. I think I'm just going to end. Um, go spread love all over the place on Twitch right now and I'll see you guys later. Bye.

Wilbur's response:

In the past week a series of allegations have been made over my conduct from an ex-girlfriend. I want to emphasise that, although I feel it fair to offer my perspective, this person's feelings are completely valid. I have taken my time sharing this statement as I wanted to process and respond respectfully and with the hope to gain a deeper understanding for the situation.

During our relationship's final months, I regrettably became slobbish, disrespectful, and selfish. These actions caused a lot of pain to my ex-girlfriend and I've since sought therapy to address these behaviours, making significant lifestyle changes to rectify my past actions. I have come to realise how much my past behaviour hurt this person, but I truly, compassionately believe I have made great strides from the person I once was and hope I can continue to grow and improve on this trajectory.

The allegation of abuse, particularly in the form of biting, deeply shocked me. Throughout our relationship, I understood from our numerous conversations and text message exchanges on the subject, that this behaviour was consensual, playful and reciprocally enjoyed. I truly believe those personal message exchanges reflect mutual affection and understanding. Out of respect for her, I choose not to publish them and I emphasise my perspective is not shared to diminish or invalidate anyone's feelings. Instead I share it in the hope that I can offer a genuine, fair and relevant insight into my understanding of the situation. While I may perceive our interactions differently, I recognise that this person has processed and expressed feelings of hurt. I want to extend my sincerest apologies for any pain that I caused.

I am fully committed to understanding and addressing her concerns going forward. I hope my perspective sheds light on this situation without detracting from its message. I am dedicated to earning and maintaining the trust of those around me and hope I continue to be held to these high standards I wish to attain and maintain.

- Will

Shubble's response:

i could not have imagined what i would wake up to today. my ex pretending he thought i enjoyed being hurt... and all of my friends immediately coming to my defense. The support has brought me to tears, i don't even know what to say. i'll be back, i'll just be taking a little time

and for the record, i don't accept the apology

#shelby #shelby shubble #wilbur situation #Youtube

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 6 months

Text

Secret: cbf!soap x f!reader

Johnny was grabbing the items out of his locker and packing up his backpack to meet you after school when his locker was slammed shut.

“Holly.” He gave her a sharp glance and she smiled.

Holly was part of The Mean Girls, the one who had stolen your bunny all those years ago, the one he called a daft cow and had no interest in even if she seemed to be interested in him.

Usually Jonny just ignored her, unless she was bullying you then he was stepping in to tell her to go away as politely as possible.

“Who are you going to prom with?” She wondered and he raised an eyebrow.

“You know who.” He scoffed and opened his locker again.

“Really? I thought you both were on the rocks.”

Johnny paused, his heart sinking and his stomach twisting up in knots. He didn’t think there was anything going on between the two of you but maybe he was wrong.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You two have been acting different around each other for a while now.”

He stared at her with confusion. There was nothing different between the two of you, nothing! You two still hung out all the time, still joked around and laughed…yeah maybe he stopped telling you about some of the serious stuff that goes on in his mind but that didn’t mean anything.

Did it?

“Look, we’re not friends but even I can tell that whatever’s going on between you has you a lot more quiet than usual.” She explained and he clenched his jaw. “Whatever’s going on she’s got you acting different.”

“Nothings going on…” he trailed and before he could stop the words were falling out his mouth. “I’m going into the military and she doesn’t like it.”

“Wait, you’re actually going?”

Johnny froze and swallowed hard.

He hadn’t told anyone, not even his own mother, that he had been accepted into the military. In just a month he’d be going into the military and starting his career.

He was going to tell you. He was just going to sit later rather than sooner. He had to come up with a way to tell you and to prepare himself for when you’d be disappointed.

And now he told Holly, the girl who had it out for you since fucking kindergarten.

“It doesn’t matter.” He slammed his locked and gave her a stern look. “Don’t tell her anything about this.”

“You know I wouldn’t be upset with for going into the military.”

Johnny felt disgust but said nothing as he walked away from her. He didn’t want to be with anyone else, he couldn’t imagine himself with anyone but you.

You were the only one he wanted, you were the only one he could imagine a life with in the future, despite your disapproval.

Maybe that’s why he put off telling you, he so badly wanted your support on his decision because it was the only thing that truly mattered to him. But it was hard to ask for it when he could hardly support you decisions, or lack thereof, for your future.

You didn’t have a plan, he knew you didn’t. For some reason it irritated him to no end because why didn’t you have a plan? Shoudlnt you want to have something to follow?

A bad part of his brain thought that you didn’t have one because you were hoping he’d give up on the military so you could follow him wherever he went. It was irrational but that’s what it looked like to him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly didn’t hear you call his name.

“Hey, you okay?” You wondered with concern.

You were always so good at reading him and he always had trouble hiding things from you.

Tell her, he demanded in his mind. Tell her now.

“I’m exhausted.” He smiled and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “We should take a nap when we get to your place.”

You smiled and his chest hurt. He was going to miss that.

He was going to miss you.

“I’m glad you suggested it because I would’ve too.”

A/n: rewrote this three times HAHA love that for me

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie

#cbf!soap #childhood best friend!soap #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #john soap mactavish

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taexual · 9 months

Text

sleepwalking ● 2 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 6.7k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 2 ► they say i got no purpose, they say i got no cause, but i’m loved by all my people, i’m the leader of the lost

Tipsy Jungkook was usually known for his wit, maybe his charm, but never great ideas. Hence his plan to win the bet early—and he was certain he would win—as he knocked on the door of your hotel room at eleven-thirty that same night.

The long flight was already far behind him, but it wasn’t behind you as you opened the door of your pitch-dark room only several minutes later. He thought he got the wrong room until he saw you, squinting at the violent light coming in from the hall.

“Jungkook?” you mumbled, too disoriented to understand the pointlessness of your own question. His knock had woken you up from what was supposed to be a ten-second rest of your eyes. “I thought we’d agreed on a text.”

“We did,” he said, suddenly very aware of how difficult it was to choose words now that he was actually standing in front of you. “But I figured I’d report to you live. So, that’s why I’m here.”

“Okay,” you said slowly. Your words felt heavy, your mouth too tired to voice them. “Well, uh—thanks. You should—”

You were already in the process of closing the door of your room, but he grabbed it, startling you. His gaze was cast low, however, and he did not notice the widening of your eyes.

“I was thinking—what if you came down for a drink?” his question was quick as he fought a battle against his sober mind that was catching up to him.

Eventually, he looked up at you. Your eyebrows were rising, then fell quickly as you tried to play your surprise off. It was this look on your face that—finally—gave him a pause.

It caught up—the sober part of him—and he blinked, fully grasping what he was doing and regretting it immediately. He hadn’t really thought he’d come up here, ask you out, and you’d jump at the chance. He knew you wouldn’t. But he supposed that, maybe, against nearly all odds of the years between you, he still had a glimmer of hope that you’d agree, after all.

“How much have you had to drink?” you countered—and whatever hope he’d had dimmed completely.

You wouldn’t have said no to a drink under normal circumstances, but these particular ones were hardly normal. Not to mention, they involved Jungkook’s so-called friends, and you’d have sooner shrivelled from thirst than considered drinking with them.

You assumed Jungkook knew that.

“Barely anything,” he told you truthfully enough. There was, of course, the matter of his brain being clouded, but he figured alcohol had little to do with it. Looking at you more closely, he took in your dishevelled hair and droopy eyes and bit his lip before asking, “did I wake you?”

“No,” you lied, but for a good cause—the protection of your dignity. “Are you feeling alright? Your eye is twitching.”

Looking down again and bringing his fingers over his eyes, he groaned under his breath. This was jetlag. It threw him off his game.

Turning his head sideways to hide his flustered face, Jungkook attempted to get himself together in under a second—and failed, of course. If anything, he only became more aware of your suspicious gaze as he rubbed his eyes continuously.

Fucking Sid and Jude. He’d clearly acted too big-headed in front of them, and now he was outside of your room, having whatever the hell this awkward silence was with you, and his fucking eye was twitching.

He loathed this.

“I’m great,” he said without looking up at you. New plan, new plan, new plan. “Going to bed now. Night.”

He turned so abruptly, it took you a moment to realise that he meant he was going to go to bed right this second.

“Do you want water or—?” you called after him, voice faltering as you lost confidence in your phrasing. Water felt a lot like suggesting turning the device off and on again when it began to malfunction.

You watched Jungkook’s back as he hurried down the hall, shaking his head. He threw one hand up – as a gesture of refusal? Gratitude? Goodbye? You weren’t sure – before disappearing inside of his room down the hall, only daring to peek at you over his shoulder before turning away again.

There were several thoughts in his head, all of them far less eloquent than the one before, full of words starting with “F”. He realised that he couldn’t possibly just ask you out. That was outrageous; you’d knock him unconscious and kick him off the band.

Leaning against the door of his hotel room, he decided he’d have to find an excuse. Some sort of an occasion. Something laid-back, yet serious—something he could present as casual to you, but meaningful to his friends.

His eyes lit up at once. He realised he might have something, hidden in the back of his personal email, long forgotten due to the clashing of schedules. But if he made it work…

He’d have to try, he decided. This might be the only way to get you alone.

Back in the hall, you closed your own door, retreating to your room. You chose to blame the nerves on this barely two-minute-long conversation that had to be one of the weirdest ones the two of you have exchanged over the years.

He was anxious about the tour – it made sense.

You decided that, if this persisted, you’d talk to him the next time you saw him—preferably not in the middle of the night in an empty hotel hallway.

The next time you saw Jungkook was at the restaurant downstairs. It was early in the morning and the staff of the hotel was only preparing the buffet. Everywhere you looked, people were either yawning or dozing off in the eating area.

“Morning,” you announced yourself by the buffet table where the crew and the band were choosing what to put on their plates and chatting with the hotel staff in hopes of some warm cinnamon buns. “Did everyone sleep okay?”

“I left my melatonin spray,” Yoongi mumbled, appearing next to you. His eyes were redder than the shirt he was wearing. “So, no.”

Concerned, you pointed your index finger at him. “You’re coming back to the hotel after the rehearsal for a nap.

He nodded. But before you could add anything else, his slightly shapeless form glided away towards orange juice, putting an end to this exchange. He did that sometimes. He didn’t realise that his perception of the flow of conversation—namely, that it ended—could have differed from the other person’s; didn't realise that they might still have something to say.

With Yoongi gone, you looked over at Hoseok and Taehyung. “What about you? Did you get enough sleep?”

“I’m perfect,” Hoseok said. He’d rather sell both of his arms and a leg than ever admit that something was wrong with him, so you looked at him especially long as he spoke, “can’t wait to get this going. First show tonight!”

His excitement seemed genuine, so you met this palm with yours in a high-five and turned to Taehyung. He’d been standing next to you, chewing something, even though his plate was still empty.

“I’m fine, too,” he said, catching your eye. “I did try to order room service at four in the morning, but they weren’t very—well, it’s my bad in any case. I just wanted a sandwich.”

Your face was compassionate as you patted him on the arm. “Wait until we’re on the bus. We’ll all be cooking ramen at midnight.”

He smiled back wryly. “I’m looking forward to it now, but I know it’ll get old very quickly.”

You were about to agree when you felt someone’s hands on your shoulders. Flinching lightly, you turned your head until you caught sight of Jungkook’s profile.

“If anyone’s wondering,” he said, “I slept fine, too.”

“I was getting to you,” you replied, managing to get yourself out of his grip—graciously enough—so you could face him instead. “Your head’s alright?”

“It’s perfect,” he replied, beaming. “Keep telling you I know how to drink.”

You squinted your eyes, but chose not to question the last conversation you’ve had – he seemed normal enough now.

“Okay. Have a good meal, guys,” you redirected your attention back to the rest of the band—and the staff around them. “We’re leaving in forty-five.”

Most of them nodded—some grunted, too, expressing displeasure at the tight schedule—and you were finally able to grab a plate for yourself.

Jungkook, oddly enough, stayed by your side.

“Try these,” he said before you could ask him why he’d lingered. He picked up two strawberries with a fork and dropped them on your plate. “They’re so much sweeter than what we have back home.”

You looked down at the strawberries like he’d plucked them straight from an alternative universe where this gesture—dropping them on your plate for you to try—was normal.

“I don’t really eat fruit for breakfast,” you mumbled under your breath, the words—like this whole situation—inappropriate somehow.

“You should,” he replied. “They’re good for you. And the strawberries go well with a croissant. Chocolate? Your favourite.”

You stood there, barely blinking, as you watched him fetch a chocolate croissant—your favourite—for you.

He smiled proudly as he did this and even seemed surprised when you asked, “did Sid and Jude drug you last night?”

“Why would they?” Jungkook countered, but did not wait for your response as he pulled you away from the buffet table by tugging on your forearm softly. “Let’s get a seat.”

“Okay, hold on,” you took a step backwards, away from his touch. “What is going on? Are you buttering me up, because you’re going to tell me you’re addicted to meth?”

“What?” he stopped, too, looking at you with as much confusion as you were looking at him with. “Of course not.”

“Are you leaving the band?” you guessed next.

“Hell no.”

“Are you—”

“I am literally walking to get us seats at a table, so we can have breakfast,” he said. “Or, actually, trying to do that. Since you’ve stopped and won’t move.”

Still suspicious, you eyed him for half a minute longer, and then forced yourself to keep walking. He nodded, relieved, and followed your step towards the table.

He sat down next to you, which took Namjoon—one of the producers on tour with you—completely off-guard, because he was the one who usually sat with you when Rated Riot were touring. Out of everyone here, Namjoon was one of the few people—the other ones being Yoongi, the de-facto leader of Rated Riot, and Seokjin, the stage manager—that you could count on to keep everyone in check, so the two of you had a lot to talk about over breakfast.

But this morning was already starting off weird.

Hesitating for a second, Namjoon looked around and sat down on Jungkook’s other side, shooting you a confused look over the band member’s shoulder.

Jungkook didn’t notice, momentarily preoccupied by the waffle on his plate. You shrugged briefly in response to Namjoon and ripped off a piece of your croissant, scattering crumbs everywhere on your plate and the table.

You didn’t feel very hungry, to begin with—the anxiety of the band going on their first European Tour was really showing its’ full face today—but Jungkook acting unusual only made you more unsettled.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon spoke up—bless him—as he, like you, avoided actually eating anything that was on his plate, but kept playing with the stems of his strawberries. “Nervous about tonight?”

“Not more than usual,” Jungkook replied, his tone nonchalant even though you could feel the restless bouncing of his leg against yours under the table. “I know we’ve got a great crew here. We’ll be fine. Right?”

He looked at you as he said this last part—an innocent, expectant smile on his face. But there was a conspicuous glint of mischief in his eye. You couldn’t tell if he was up to something, or just nervous.

“Right,” you said, chewing the piece of the croissant you’ve broken off. It didn’t taste like anything.

“First show’s a sold-out, so that’s a good start of the tour,” Namjoon continued. “Can’t wait to see you guys on stage.”

“Can’t wait to be on it,” Jungkook echoed, his voice empty somehow, until he turned to you. “You’ll be at the soundcheck, right?”

He was watching you again—truthfully, he never even looked at Namjoon; when he spoke to him, he looked down at his plate and only peered at the producer through his peripherals—and you shifted in your seat awkwardly.

“Of course,” you said. “It’s my job.”

“Right,” Jungkook said. “Of course.”

You glanced at Namjoon, your eyebrows furrowed slightly. He looked back at you with an almost identical expression.

“Guys,” was the next thing you heard, followed by a very agitated slam of a plate against your table. Alarmed, you looked up to see Seokjin next to you. “The owner of the venue only speaks Czech. I called, but I could not get any information from him whatsoever. I even tried negotiating in German.”

You lifted your eyebrows, but Namjoon beat you to the most important question at hand, “you speak German?”

Seokjin sat down with a defeated sigh. “I don’t. But I’m desperate. I know how to say hello, I thought it’d break the ice.”

Jungkook watched the exchange in silence, curious. He wasn’t usually present at these backstage meetings where you discussed the logistics of the tour; it all distracted him from his plan.

“I’ll try to talk to him,” you said, wiping your hands on your legs to lose the crumbs. “What do you need to know?”

“Well, everything,” Seokjin replied. “I’m going over there right after breakfast to fix the place for the soundcheck while the guys rehearse, and I don’t even know how many loudspeakers the place has.”

You nodded as you got your phone out of your pocket and considered your next course of action. It was a crisis you expected before you came here—language translation had always been a problem in foreign countries, especially in venues that had terrible internet connection—so you checked your schedule and decided on the simplest way to solve this: teamwork.

“Let’s both go over there,” you said. “We’ll figure out a way to communicate face-to-face.”

Seokjin was mid-nod when Jungkook extended a hand, making everyone freeze.

“Hold on,” he spoke in a rush, “I thought you were coming with me.”

There was offence in his words. You felt Seokjin glance at you and did not need to turn your head to know that the look on his face was questioning—did you have plans with Jungkook this morning?

“I’ll be at the soundcheck,” you spoke slowly. “You hardly need me at the rehearsal, too.”

“I—well I do need you, as a matter of fact,” Jungkook said. Then, responding to the surprise of everyone at the table (Seokjin was actually grinning), he added, “at, uh—at the rehearsal, I mean.”

There was a warmth under your skin that felt prickly and uncomfortable.

“You’ll deal,” you said simply enough and took another bite of your croissant—properly this time, because you had to get going soon.

“And what if I forget the lyrics?” he pushed. “Who is going to yell at me if you’re not there?”

“Yoongi,” you replied, your mouth full, “he’ my befft—” you paused to swallow, “my best replacement.”

Jungkook huffed in exaggerated disappointment, but he dropped the topic, allowing you to finish your breakfast in peace. Instead, he handed you a napkin to help with the chocolate on the corners of your lips, all without a comment.

Another minute later, he watched you and Seokjin leave together. And, with you gone, he realised that he did feel nervous.

One part of the reason why he was by your side this morning was because of the bet, that was true. But the bigger part was because of what he’d said to you – he really did want you there at the rehearsal and at the soundcheck.

Tonight was the first show of the band’s European tour. Your presence made the wait for the concert feel less massive and easier to grasp.

The bet had distracted him, too, and it gave him a reason to talk to you. But now that it was him and Namjoon left at the table, he had to find a way to bite, chew, and swallow, despite his stomach turning inside out.

Namjoon was talking about Prague to him, reading about previous bands that performed at Malá Sportovní Hala before moving on to bigger venues the next time they toured Europe—and all of that only made Jungkook bounce his leg harder.

He decided he couldn’t eat anymore as soon as he finished another waffle. With no one else distracting him from the upcoming concert, he needed to do something himself.

“Excuse me,” he said to Namjoon, who looked up in time to see him stand up with his plate and walk away. The producer thought Jungkook had looked pale, and concluded—like you had last night—that the weirdness of this morning was prompted by anxiety.

Jungkook was someone who had a captivating, effortless stage presence. Someone who put on a show until he collapsed, until he had to be dragged backstage because his legs no longer worked. Or until he climbed on the railing of the balcony and the owners of the venue, witnessing this in horror, went to fetch you, pulling on your sleeve and asking you to put a stop to this, threatening legal measures.

Jungkook performed like every night was his last. But there was so much that went into it: rehearsals, soundchecks, warm-ups, herbal throat remedies, and, most of all, anxiety. He was aware of all the what-ifs—what if my voice cracks, what if I forget the lyrics, what if my in-ear monitor lags—and they all weighed on him.

He worried. He said he didn’t, he laughed and jumped around—and all of his energy was mistaken for excitement, not stress. But he jumped because he couldn’t not jump, his whole body was tingling.

Therefore, wanting to do something else—something that would give him a reason to still feel excited even if he messed up the band’s performance tonight—Jungkook sat down on an armchair in the hotel lobby and pulled his phone out.

It was time to carry out the plan he’d come up with last night in order to win the bet; this would give him something else to focus on.

The plan was this: Kihyun, one of Jungkook’s old friends from university—and, coincidentally, the fiancé of your friend from university, Chloé—was getting married in Paris in a few days. Initially, you and Jungkook both said you couldn’t make it to the wedding because the date coincided with Rated Riot’s tour. But now this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

He'd checked his schedule beforehand, so he knew that the band had a day off right on the day of the wedding. He struggled to calculate travel time, but he figured Poland wasn’t that far from France—you could make it there and back in time for Rated Riot’s next show.

However, this was very last-minute—and he had already sent the pair a wedding gift—so he wasn’t very hopeful as he dialled Kihyun’s phone number. That being said, Jungkook knew he could be persuasive—when he wasn’t drunk and you weren’t standing in front of him in the doorway of your hotel room, that is.

But as it turned out, he didn’t even need to use his charms.

As soon as Kihyun picked up the call, he joked, “Jungkook! Change your mind about the wedding?”

And, after Jungkook admitted that he had, in fact, changed his mind, that he was in Europe, and, actually, he was thinking of bringing you as his date—Kihyun was more than happy to extend you both an invite.

Worriedly, Jungkook asked if Chloé wouldn’t mind, but Kihyun assured him—assured him!—that, if anything, Chloé would be excited. She was, apparently, hoping to see you again at her wedding and felt bummed when you said you couldn’t make it.

That was enough for Jungkook, but ever-polite Kihyun continued: the fact that you and Jungkook managed to find time in your busy schedule to see them on their special day—Jungkook cringed here, guilt creeping in—meant a lot to them both.

And so, easily enough, the plan swung into motion. Ending the call, Jungkook exhaled in relief as though he’d already invited you—and you’d said yes.

He did want to see his old friends again. And he did, really, want to take you with him—so perhaps he wouldn’t even go to hell for this. And if he would, then perhaps it’d be worth it.

After all, everything fell into place so effortlessly, it seemed like this was meant to be. And now he could go to the rehearsal, do the soundcheck, perform at the show, meet his fans, and win the bet—in this particular order.

You and Seokjin got everything settled faster than you’d expected—the owner of the venue didn’t speak any languages that the two of you spoke, but he seemed to be fluent in pointing-at-yelling, which, coincidentally, Seokjin also excelled at, so it all worked out. You still had some free time left, so you returned to the hotel before the soundcheck.

But as soon as you entered your hotel room, you felt an unsettling sense of guilt somewhere in the pit of your stomach.

What if Jungkook really needed you at the rehearsal? Not because he, clearly, had some sort of ulterior motives—covering up the fact that Sid and Jude recruited him into a cult?—but because he was genuinely nervous or unsure of himself.

It made sense—all the members of the band could have felt this way; tonight was the first show of the tour, after all. It could be that this was the only way Jungkook knew how to approach you, too prideful to ask for help directly. Perhaps you should have taken him more seriously.

Sighing, you turned around and left your room as soon as you came in.

But your journey back to the venue wasn’t smooth – security had changed shifts and there was an unfortunate mishap: you and Seokjin had gotten your credentials mixed up. Somehow, Seokjin managed to enter with your pass, but you, for some reason, couldn’t enter with his.

Half an hour later, you were finally allowed inside and found the band members about ten minutes before soundcheck was supposed to begin.

They were in the hallway leading to the stage, ready to go out—some of them were doing stretches against the wall, others were browsing on their phones while balancing water bottles on their knees.

“Hey,” you approached them from the empty stage while doing a head count to make sure all four of them were here. “How was the rehearsal?”

“The rehearsal? It was fine,” Taehyung was the one closest to you and he was the one who replied. He appeared a little thrown off by your question. You realised you’d never had to ask before—if something went wrong, they usually told you right away. Otherwise, you assumed everything was okay. “Nothing unusual. Why?”

“No reason, just curious,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded neutral enough. “Looking for reasons to worry, I guess.”

“Ah. Well, here comes the usual reason.”

He nodded his head at something behind you and you turned around to see Jungkook cross the stage towards you, dragging a mic stand after him.

“You’re finally here,” he said, stopping by the exit from the stage. “We missed you at the rehearsal.”

Taehyung was picking his bass up from where he’d rested it against the wall when he stopped, suddenly, and lifted his head. “Uh, did we? No offence.”

The question was for Jungkook—who awarded the older boy with a glare—but the last part was for you.

“None—uh, none taken,” you said, then turned to Jungkook. “I was told the rehearsal was fine.”

“Oh, sure,” he replied, “but you know me. I adapt to hardships very well.”

You looked back at Taehyung. “What hardships?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he said. Your gazes ping-ponged back to Jungkook again, almost accusing.

“I mean the hardship of being by ourselves,” Jungkook said in a frustrated voice. As if this was obvious and he felt stupid having to explain this to you. “Unmanaged.”

You raised your eyebrows. “With all this staff with you, you’re hardly ever unmanaged.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t there.”

“Okay, honestly, did you need me there?” you asked, directing the question at Taehyung, because you were more comfortable with his responses. They were less cryptic.

Feeling a bit like a third-wheel after the back-and-forth between the two of you, Taehyung looked at you, then at Jungkook, then back at you again.

“No,” he said finally. Then, nodding at Jungkook, he added, “I think he’s doing the job of giving you reasons to worry about.”

Jungkook didn’t open his mouth in time to cut in, and you spoke up first.

“He always is,” you said to the older boy. When you looked at Jungkook, he was already watching you with a face so dramatically displeased that it was clearly an act.

So, he seemed to be doing well, then.

“Get back to work,” you said with a gentle smile—Jungkook needed that smile even if he put up a front. “I’ll be with the sound operators if you really need me.”

The soundcheck and the VIP Meet & Greet afterwards, unsurprisingly, went by without either member of the band needing your assistance, so you were able to have a coffee-and-ice-cream break with Jimin, the lead sound technician on tour. It wasn’t really a break, because Jimin had to be present for the soundcheck, but things were going well, so when he mumbled how nice it’d be to have some ice cream right now, you left to get it.

This wasn’t Rated Riot’s first time doing this, of course – and they may have acted like they had fallen off an alien spaceship sometimes, but, at the end of the day, they were professionals.

You were too busy yourself before the show, so you barely got to exchange more than a few words of good luck with the band. But as soon as the opening act – a rookie band with a fitting title of Poison Tongue, considering how much they cursed in their songs – finished their performance and Seokjin’s team prepared the stage for Rated Riot, you made sure to find a spot on the side of the stage.

It took some effort, too – you tried not to block anyone by the barricade, but also not get in the way of photographers, coursing right by the stage. Especially Maggie, another one of your friends on tour, and easily the boldest photographer here—she wasn’t above hanging off the second-floor balcony to get the perfect shot.

But you couldn’t find her now. Fortunately, when you found a spot by the stage, Luna—Taehyung’s girlfriend—joined you there, so, at least, you weren’t by yourself.

For once, the two of you were able to actually enjoy the concert. Normally, you kept interrupting Luna’s videos as you had to scold Jungkook’s friends for chatting up people who came to watch the show. Tonight, thankfully, Sid and Jude weren’t here – they were picking up Minjun, another one of Jungkook’s friends, at the airport. You hoped they’d get lost on their way back, settle down in Prague, and never bother you again. Poor people of Prague, of course, but maybe they’d be the ones who finally taught them a lesson.

You’ve seen Rated Riot perform countless times at this point: at restaurants, company events, nightclubs, and, eventually, concert venues – but there was nothing about their performances that could have ever made you feel bored.

You filmed them on your phone as Hoseok nearly broke the platform on which he played the drums—with wild screaming in the background—as Taehyung fired water guns at the audience—the screams turned thundering—as Yoongi performed his solo guitar part on his knees—the screaming was ear-splitting—as Jungkook returned for the encore shirtless, his tattooed skin glistening with sweat, his voice hoarse, his eyes burning—the screams were deafening.

The audience sang along to every song, there was never a quiet moment in the concert hall. Objectively, you knew that around 3,000 people had come, but the ringing in your ears made the audience feel twice, even three times as big.

The support was overwhelming, and all of it came in response to the unstoppable energy on stage. Two songs in, Jungkook had already climbed and jumped off the largest loudspeaker on stage. By the fifth song, Taehyung stage-dived right during his bass solo.

By the end of the show, the members were drenched in sweat, barely able to breathe as they tossed their guitar picks, the drumsticks, and the towels into the audience, and took their final bows—promising, of course, a quick return, and hoping, silently, that this promise would come true.

This was Night One of Rated Riot’s first European Tour – and you felt giddy as you already waited for the next night.

The band went to change into something more comfortable backstage, and then headed back out to meet some fans who’d lingered behind, buying merchandise and hoping that the members of Rated Riot would come out to meet them—and they did, always.

You worried, a little, about what you’d have to do with the gifts—the plush toys and, most importantly, the letters—that the fans gave them. The thought of throwing them out or, simply, not taking them, had never crossed any of your minds, even though that was what the label suggested.

This was another thing that you had to fight with Jett Records about. You knew that the band actually read the letters, especially when they were tired or lacked inspiration. That’s when the words from their fans became their source of motivation. Their purpose.

They were doing this because they loved it. But when they got tired, they kept doing it for them.

And, because of this, you figured you might end up having to rent out a separate bus for gifts alone, once you’d toured enough countries.

This thought was supported by Rated Riot returning with hands full of mementoes from fans. You took them and, while everyone gathered for traditional shots of gin & tonic backstage, you went outside with some of the crew to load the equipment—and the gifts—into the buses.

You had a six-hour drive from Prague to Krakow ahead of you, but, when you returned to the venue, the whole band was jumping around the room. You knew they wouldn’t sleep one bit tonight.

Hence your lack of surprise when, several hours later, when you were already on the bus, you went to find Jungkook, and he was sitting in his bunk, scrolling on his phone.

You were hoping he’d be awake, so you could speak to him. You couldn’t risk there being something deeper about his weird behaviour earlier today, even if he did give an outstanding performance on stage.

“Hey. You’re up,” you said, pointing out the obvious, because it was a good enough conversation starter.

Jungkook lifted his head.

“Yeah.” He put his phone down and patted the bunk next to him. “You can’t sleep either?”

You nodded, taking the invitation and sitting down next to him. “I have something I want to ask you.”

He was surprised. Really, he should have been the one saying this to you; he hadn’t had a chance to ask you to Kihyun’s wedding yet.

“Go ahead,” he said calmly enough.

“Are you really okay?” you asked, choosing not to beat around the bush, because it was three in the morning—not the time for that. “You’ve been acting weird the whole day.”

He looked away, not having expected this, evidently. “Oh.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” you explained, “but then I couldn’t help myself. It’s my responsibility to know if there’s something wrong with any of you, so I felt like I had to ask.”

Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned backwards until the back of his head touched the wall of the bus. “I’m fine. Just—adjusting, I guess. This is new. Europe.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, bending your knee under yourself as you got more comfortable on his bunk. “It’s new for all of us.”

“Yeah. So, maybe, I guess, I’m worried,” he said clumsily.

Even though this wasn’t why he’d acted weird—and, really, he was appalled that you found his behaviour “weird”; he truly was off his game—it was the truth. He did feel anxious. So much so, that a part of him appreciated Sid—not for suggesting the bet, per se. But for giving him something else to focus his mind on.

“Well, about what?” you asked. “Maybe talking it out would help.”

He looked at you, but then moved his gaze towards the bunk opposite his—empty right now because Hoseok was at the front of the bus, taking pictures through the window and, probably, chatting up the French bus driver.

“About not being good enough,” Jungkook said after a minute, his words coming in the form of a deep sigh. “This is Europe, it’s a different audience for us. I mean—realistically, I know it’s not. If people are buying tickets to our shows, they probably know us. They like our music. But still. Most of them have only ever seen our performances online. Hearing someone sing in a YouTube video is so much different from hearing it live.”

You merely nodded, not wanting to interrupt, because, although he’d paused, it didn’t sound like he’d finished.

“So, now I’m thinking all these things, like…” he continued, “I don’t know. Not living up to their expectations,” you saw him swallow before he kept talking, “what if these people have been listening to Rated Riot since we started? From the very beginning, you know? And now they hear us live, and they think I’m doing a half-assed job. And they’re disappointed—they’ve waited to see us for so long and we didn’t deliver. I didn’t deliver. I don’t want that. I want them to remember this night, not just because we may be their favourite band, but because they’ve truly had a good time. You know?”

He needed reassurance—and asked for it repeatedly—so you nodded again, more eagerly.

To be fair, this wasn’t the first time that the two of you were talking about this. Years before he joined Rated Riot—before you broke up—you’d had multiple conversations about the one genuine fear that Jungkook had: disappointing others.

“But you are showing them a good time,” you said. You scooted backwards and leaned against the sideboard adjacent to him; it seemed like you were going to stay here a while. “I’ve watched you play tonight. You guys were brilliant.”

“Thanks,” he said, sounding noncommittal. “I know the guys are always—they don’t fuck around. They come and they tear that stage up to shreds.”

“So do you,” you reminded him.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I know this isn’t insecurity speaking,” you said, “because we both know you’re great—”

Snorting, he interjected, “that part’s true.”

“—so, you’re worried you’re not doing enough. Not giving enough,” you concluded. “But do you feel like you’re holding back?”

He considered this for a moment. “No. I feel like I cough up my lungs and my heart, and toss them right into the crowd after the show. I couldn’t get off stage if I didn’t feel that way.”

“And it shows,” you said, softer now, as you watched the spark return to his eyes. Memories of the concert played back in his mind. “Performing is in your blood. It’s always been.”

“Right,” he said. “So, I should have nothing to worry about, then?”

He had a sardonic smile on his face, and he was, essentially, asking you if he should have stopped complaining. This wasn’t at all what you were trying to say.

“No, you have every right to still feel worried,” you said. “What I mean is, don’t forget that you know what you’re doing. You know it well. Fortunately for you, you were born to do this. I know it sounds like a nice thing to say to someone, but you know I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t mean it.”

He looked down. “I know.”

Then, hesitating for a moment, he pulled his lower lip in and brought his teeth over his lip ring. He added, “thank you.”

“I’m here to listen if you need me to,” you said. “And to remind you that people see your effort. They appreciate it. You guys are doing well.”

“We’re doing well,” he repeated—and did it while inhaling, like a mantra. Then, exhaling again, he joked awkwardly, “in any case, I can always fake it ‘til I make it, right?”

You shook your head, disagreeing immediately. “You’re the most genuine you’ve ever been when you’re performing. You guys have got nothing to fake.”

Coming from anyone else, he would have called this nonsense—he was a performer, so how would anyone know what was genuine for him? But you would. You were the one person who knew.

Slowly, a small smile crept onto his face as he asked, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echoed, feeling your own lips stretch into a smile. You added, “you’re my favourite band.”

He snickered and rolled his eyes. “You’re our manager, you have to say that.”

“Very true,” you did not argue, “but again, I’m saying that because I mean it.”

He gave you a look—not necessarily doubting your words, but having a hard time wrapping his head around your serious tone. He’d always assumed that the only reason why you paid any attention to his band, was because you had no other choice.

“You’d still listen to Rated Riot if you weren’t working with us?” he asked—a question long overdue, but he supposed he’d never really cared that much about this before. All that he cared about was that you were around.

“I’d even come to your shows,” you said.

He laughed, amazed for some reason. This was what you should have said to him from the very beginning; there were no signs of prior anxiety left on his face now.

“Wow. Okay,” he said in uncertain delight—as if he feared he’d misunderstood this and got excited about nothing. “Thank you.”

Calmer now that you’ve made him smile, you reached out to pat his knee amicably. He felt goosebumps on the skin of his arms and crossed them over his chest immediately.

“Don’t forget that, okay?” you said. “Part of the reason why so many people love you—why you have this opportunity to perform in Europe in the first place—is because you give away so much of yourself on stage. And, actually, I don’t think this is something you can control. It comes naturally to you.”

Jungkook watched you as you spoke, an almost forgotten warmth spreading in his chest. It’s been so long—so impossibly long—since he’d felt it. He wasn’t sure if he was even aware how much he’d missed it.

“Thank you,” he said once more—breathless this time. Wistful.

You nodded and asked, “you feeling better?”

“Definitely,” he replied, but it was hard for him to tell if this was true. He felt less anxious, yes. But now he felt confused.

He hadn’t expected this conversation, even though, reasonably, he should have—your work ethic required you to be reliable and trustworthy, to take care of those around you. And that was what you were doing.

But this conversation didn’t feel official. It didn’t feel like you were doing your job. It felt friendly and familiar.

And exciting, his rapid heartbeat whispered.

Yes. It felt exciting, too.

“Good,” you spoke, scooting back towards the edge of his bunk. “Now go to sleep.”

He snorted; your return to the role of his manager did not let him bask in nostalgia much.

“Alright,” he said, crawling to fluff the one remaining pillow in his bunk. “You’re the boss.”

“And stop acting fucking weird!” you added as you stood up. He laughed at the sudden outburst. “Nearly made me call a therapist for you.”

“Why would I need a therapist when I have you?” he teased. The brightness on his face was so honest, so infectious, that you had to look away to hide your own smile.

“Because they do not pay me enough for this,” you retorted.

Clutching his chest in mock-offence, he asked in a sorrowful voice, “am I nothing but a client to you?”

You picked up a pillow that had fallen off his bunk and tossed it at him.

“You’re my favourite clients,” you replied. He caught the pillow before it hit his face and grinned—despite knowing that Rated Riot were your only clients at the time.

“You’re my favourite manager,” he returned. This, finally, got a laugh out of you as you walked back to your own bunk.

Left alone, Jungkook didn’t even realise that this could, technically, count towards winning the bet. He didn't even remember the wedding at first; your questions, your reassuring tone, you had distracted him from bringing it up.

But he felt calm. He knew that he could afford to worry about this later. For now, he was busy replaying your conversation—and the part of it where you laughed—in his head.

chapter title credits: palaye royale, “king of the damned”

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