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#it's a story within a story and it's already done
di-42 · 2 days
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May's Magnificent Fictions
First off let me share with you a little side note, because the brain wants what the brain wants. After an inner struggle I've finally decided to settle on using the noun "fiction" as countable when referring to works of fanfiction. I will stick to this. It has been bothering me.
And now for something completely enjoyable, let me present to you the lovely fics I've been lucky enough to read in May. I't's been a busy, at times stressful month and I haven't had the chance to read as many as I would have liked. I only made a tiny dent in my Marked for later list, which keeps growing and isn't it wonderful? I still have so much beauty, creativity and bliss to look forward to.
I'll try and tag the writers whose tumblr username I know, so they know how loved they are.
WIPs:
The first two WIPs of this list have made me realise that my new favourite trope is the "they never met" one. Or it might just be that both writers are incredibly good!
My Heart Was Always Yours by @addledmongoose
I love this fic and the author's other work so much that sometimes I worry the writer might think I'm stalking them or something! (I'm not! I promise! I only kind of start staring at my phone around 6pm on a Friday night UK time waiting for an update, that's all!). Anyway. like I was saying, in this fiction Aziraphale and Crowley never met until present day and, at the beginning of the story, neither of them knows the other is an angel or a demon. They have both been tasked by their respective head offices to retrieve Raphael's trumpet so Armageddon can start and they both want to find it and destroy it. So they embark on a journey together, thinking that the other is human. This story is so good. It has an incredibly well thought out plot, the characterisation of both, Aziraphale and Crowley are spot on, their interactions are funny and witty but also deep and very sweet. But the point that's dearest to me is that it shows the character of Aziraphale the respect it deserves, which sadly happens less often than it should. The way the writer describe the building of their relationship and their trust will fill your heart with warmth. The stoty has alternate Aziraphale and Crowley POVs and it's narrated in the first person, which will read funny at first but it will flow within the first couple of chapters and it will have been worth it!
This fiction is updated officially every Saturday but if you're very lucky and depending where you are in the world it might be Friday. Only a few more weeks to go, though, it's almost complete and I'll miss it (But I'll re-read it!) Rated M.
The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes
This is another excellent "they never met" story. In this universe, Crowley and Aziraphale were stationed on earth, Armageddon happened, and Hell won the war. All the angels have been killed, except one. This story only has the first 6 chapters out, but you can already see the wonderful job the author has done of thinking how Aziraphale and Crowley would be without having ever met each other, what would be the same and what would be different. And the same goes for other characters, too: so far we've had an insight of how Beelzebub is like in a different universe and hints at how other characters would behave as well. It is full of promise, it sets expectations that I'm hoping will be subverted and the writer is doing such an excellent job with it all. Please go and show this story some love, you won't regret it!
This fiction is updated weekly, definitely every Friday, but I understand from now on every Wednesday and Friday. Rated M.
The Escort by VinyamaDN @vinyama-23
Human AU where Crowley is an escort and Aziraphale hires him for a date. They start getting to know each other and the rest is history. This story touches very delicate subjects, but it's also funny and fluffy. Please read the tags. Rated E.
Whickber Street by Caedmon @caedmonfaith
Lovely human AU where Aziraphale has a bookshop in Whickber Street and Crowley opens a comic book shop on the same road. It's a slow burn, from one-enemy-to-lovers story, full of humour, charm and fluff. Featuring all the shopkeepers in Whickber Street, which is a treat! Update every Monday and Thursday without fail. Rated E.
Complete works:
And Now All Of My Garden Is Grown In Lavender by ilikeblue
I'm so grateful to my lovely mutual and penpal @dashuntsel for recommending this great human AU. Aziraphale is a successful queer romance author whose books are being adapted for TV. At the start of his career, his agent, Gabriel, insisted he claims to be married in order to gain more readers. Now that the spotlight is on him, Aziraphale needs someone to play the part of his husband. Did I mention that Crowley is Aziraphale's gardener and friend? I'm sure you know where this is going. This story has a little angst and lots of good vibes of trust, friendship, love and loyalty. And a happy ending! Rated E.
Lit by @fellshish
Fellshish is one of my favourite fiction writers and this piece doesn't disappoint. Making people laugh is much more difficult than making people cry and fellshish succeeds in the task so effortlessly! (They can also make you laugh while wanting to cry, but for that you'll have to read their other stories. This one is angst-free). Time-wise this story can be collocated after season 1 and is not canon compliant with season 2. Crowley enrolls in a literature course without realising it was a fantasy literature course. The book that will be read this semester is "Good Omens - The Nice And Accurate Prophecies Of Agnes Nutter, Witch". And the class will get to meet the author, Neil Gaiman. This book seems to describe only too well the event leading to the failed Armageddon, including things that only Aziraphale and Crowley would know. How is that possible? And what would happen if it fell on heavenly or hellish wrong hands? And, oh Satan, did someone say TV adaptation?? A truly amazing, funny piece that will make you feel better after a hard day at work. Rated Teen and up.
Gate Duty by Ginger_cat @gingiekittycat
Not really a crossover, but a Good Omens fiction with elements of The Good Place. You can absolutely read it and enjoy it if you haven't seen The Good Place. placed in time post season 1. Aziraphale is called back to heaven to Gate Duty and he's decided to go despite Crowley's protest. Crowley has Beelzebub assign him to Gate Duty as well, so they don't have to spend 300 years apart. So they set to out to judge the souls and decide whether to send them to the good place or the bad place, as they have rebranded heaven and hell. In the process they meet a few souls that you might or might not know, not the focus of the story. This fiction manages to be funny and incredibly angsty at the same time and it was incredible to see how some of the details in it would resonate with season 2, which wasn't out at the time the fic was written. Rated E.
Of Size And Other Matters by LCwrites
Lovely from strangers to lovers, fake relationship human AU. Aziraphale needs a date to accompany him to an event hosted by his brother, Gabriel. Crowley receives a text from a stranger, clearly by mistake, but why not having some fun? I really like the dynamics between them, the ease and the trust. A tiny bit of angsty pining but quickly and happily resolved. Rated E.
One shot:
Not Nice by Sad_chaos_goblin @sad-chaos-goblin
Great one shot that follows the wall slamming scene!What would have happened if the former nun hadn't interrupted their "Intimate moment"? This fic is a treat, sweet and hot and fluffy all at the same time. Rated E.
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pocket-watcher · 1 day
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Okay, but resistance is HUGE for me. Let the subject know all the hypnosis tricks and do everything in their power to not fall for them, only to slip and fall... Also, an underrated hypnosis thing is just using your voice to put them under (maybe eyes, but normal eyes). If you could at all make a story like that I would deeply appreciate it :)
We 👏 love 👏 resistance 👏 play👏
After the last story request I have a feeling we’re eating good tonight haha. Here’s something just for you though, anon :)
Yasmin eyed Rob eagerly.
“So, what is this again?” He asked, slightly disinterested.
Yasmin beamed. “I told you, it’s supposed to be a test on how much you can concentrate! Like those videos on TikTok that show you how long 30 seconds really is.”
Rob scoffed. He hated those videos, but he’d be damned if he didn’t love a challenge.
“Okay, whatever, so what do I do?”
“Just keep your eyes on mine and listen to me.”
“Easy.” He laughed.
“Breathe in and out slowly. Try and keep in time with my breathing.”
Rob slowed his breathing down to match Yasmin’s. He stared into her hazel eyes, resisting the urge to check his phone, or look around. He just stared.
How long had it been. A minute? Two minutes? He didn’t know.
“Just breathing slowly. Each breath relaxing you more. In with relaxation, out with stress. In and out. Just in and out…”
Rob did have to admit this was pretty relaxing.
“Feel yourself slipping away, your thoughts drifting by… just listening to my words and acting upon them…”
That ending was strange, right?
“Aha, what is this, some of that hypnosis crap?” He laughed, turning his head away from Yasmin.
Before he could turn, her hand was on his chins tilting his face down to meet hers.
“Keep your eyes on me.”
Rob blushed.
“H-hey, there’s no need to get all serious! I was joking. It’s not like you’re actually trying to…”
He searched her eyes for assurance.
“Y-you,” he started. “You’re trying to hypnotise me?!”
“There is no fear. No tension just my eyes. Sink down, down, down…”
“Yasmin, what the hell! I’m not going to just sit here and let you fuck with my mind!”
“Aren’t you?” She smiled.
Her eyes were no longer inviting. They were cold, calculating. And yet, Rob couldn’t look away.
“Get out of my head.” He said sternly.
“Why would you want that? Don’t you feel it? That warm pulling. That deep sensation within you telling you to give in?” She cocked her head to one side. Rob felt his own head moving to mirror her.
He grabbed the sides of his face and forced himself upright.
“As if I’d ever give in to someone trying to - to puppet me. L-like a robot.”
“Okay then. Would you like to get up and leave? You don’t seem to be doing so.”
His legs felt like lead. Rob probably couldn’t stand right now if he wanted to.
Damn it, he thought. I can fight it! I can. I just need to -
“Focus. On my voice. On my words. It would be so much easier to stop thinking and simply let me think for you.”
Rob’s eyes narrowed. Or maybe they were too heavy to keep open. Tumbling deeper. His mind slowed to a halt.
“You can’t… I won’t let you…”
“But you already have. It’s already done. You’re under my spell. Maybe you haven’t realised it yet. So let me show you.” She raised a hand.
“Raise you arm for me.”
Rob’s body reacted immediately. As hastily as he could his other arm pulled it downwards, restraining it.
“You’re adorable. How long will you keep fighting me? I’ve already won.”
“You.. you haven’t.”
“Go on, say it for me.” She purred.
“You’ve… you’ve…”
The last part of resistance left his body.
“You’ve already won…”
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Hi, I love this blog tysm for running it!
I have a friend that I used to be very close to, but since I came out to her as aroace she keeps saying/doing weird things? And sometimes I think her real issue might be with me being aromantic, but she always references me being asexual? Idk she could have an issue with both, but we have other ace friends and she’s never treated them weirdly and I’m the only one who’s aroace.
Anyways she “accidentally” outed me to a girl that we were casually hanging out with. She says she didn’t even realize she’d done it, but she directly said it multiple times and worked it into multiple stories within a pretty brief timeframe. I confronted her about it later and she apologized and said she thinks she did it (again accidentally) because she was sleep deprived and defending me because this girl had previously not liked me and been rude to me the day before because I didn’t reciprocate her friend’s crush on me. My friend apparently wanted to make sure this girl knew it “wasn’t my fault I didn’t like him back”. Which is like oddly infantilizing, I think? It wouldn’t be my fault or morally wrong for me to not like him back even if I was straight. And it’s not like I was ever mean to him about it, we were friends for a bit, too. (He has a gf now and we don’t really talk anymore.)
And this isn’t the first time my friend has done something like this either. When I was first figuring it out she seemed really happy for me, but we’d be at parties or hanging out with people and she’d start telling a story and then remember that me being ace was relevant to the story and would pause and ask in front of the person if I was okay with them knowing, which kind of defeats the purpose. Like what am I going to do? Say no? They already know that something is up, at that point I’m just clarifying what.
And I complained to her about how another close friend had developed a crush on me and how things got really tense and awkward between me and him because we weren’t communicating well and when I told her I just wanted him and I to be close friends like we had been before his crush, she told me I couldn’t expect that level of emotional intimacy without having sex. Which is probably a bad sign for all of her relationships.
I like being aroace a lot and it’s not something I’m ashamed of, but it also isn’t anyone I don’t want to know’s business. I’m not out to my family because I’m scared of how they’d react to me being queer, so it makes me really nervous that my “best friend” accidentally outs me to people. And it makes me sad because she was the first person I told.
i’m sorry to hear it, i hope things improve for you! maybe try telling your friend not to bring it up if you haven’t already?
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taesanluv3r · 1 day
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lost in love songs.
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han taesan x reader
a short, three part, friends to lovers story.
ੈ✩‧₊ hidden love unfolds when taesan's ipod nano accidentally ends up in the hands of his best-friend, yn. a certain playlist catches her eyes, revealing the true feelings kept within the depths of the boy's heart.
part one: for, yn.
shy introvert! taesan, loud extrovert! reader. some cuss words, myung jaehyun as reader's older brother, yang jungwon as class president! lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors! enjoy <3
wc: 2,044
masterlist 𖦹 part two 𖦹 part three
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"myung yn, han taesan. you guys are up for classroom duty today! don't forget to return the brooms to the closet when you're done, the keys go in mr. bang's office!"
yang jungwon, their class president, spoke from his seat at the very front of the class. his body turned towards the pair of best-friends who sat beside each other at the back corner of the room. "yup, got it" myung yn replies, shooting the dimple adorned boy two thumbs up and a sweet smile. jungwon tilts his head in the direction of the guy beside her, causing the girl to turn over to her left, eyes being met by han taesan. he seemed to be daydreaming, his nose pointed upwards as he stared at whatever was outside the window, his hearing blocked by the wired earphones that stuck into his ears. sighing, yn grabs at one side of the listening device, pulling him immediately out of his trance. "huh? did you say something?" taesan's voice is quiet as usual, his eyes widening slightly as he spoke. his friend chuckles, "we're on classroom duty today" she says, fidgeting with the silver heart-shaped charm on her bracelet. "maybe you should listen when class prezzy speaks" yn's statement makes him roll his eyes, "but that's what i have you for!" he shoots her an awkward smile, his teeth showing and his nose scrunched. "so what? i'm your only friend, and your messenger now?" her words sting a little, a glare taking over his previously smiley complexion.
the girl giggles as the bell rings, playfully pushing his shoulders as she gets up from her seat. "upwards, your majesty!" yn announces all too loudly in some sort of a terrible british accent, the shy introverted boy's face showing her a panicked expression as all eyes went onto them. she doesn't stop though, chest puffing out as she takes a deep breath, "we've got but the best of duties to fulfill! you must now-" her voice comes to a halt when he abruptly gets up, slapping his large hand over her mouth to shut her up before he got any more embarrassed than he already was. getting lightheaded, the girl taps at his arm, breathing heavily when she was released. "that was like…attempted murder…" she speaks between breaths, eyes growing big like her friend had just turned into some psycho killer. taesan just rolls his eyes, "maybe you should use your inside voice next time then" and he walks past her, heading to the closet at the very end of the classroom.
the pair of polar opposite friends begin their cleaning duties. i say polar opposites because that's exactly what they were. han taesan was only the biggest introvert in the world! that, and his rather cold demeanor meant that half the people that knew him were either intimidated or just flat out terrified of him. everyone except her, of course. myung yn, she might as well wear a massive E for extrovert on her head. yn was a star student, someone people were attracted to and wanted to be friends with. however, despite her sweet attitude and smile, the girl was rather picky about her acquaintances. so how did the han boy, who only wore long coats and ripped jeans when he wasn't wearing uniform, who prefers to read books over movies, who only listened to the curated playlists of music he pirated onto his dad's old ipod nano from 2005- that, and of course his own songs that he wrote in his free time- the guy who could barely keep up conversation with anyone without some help. how could he become friends with the myung girl? who wears short skirts even during the winter, enjoyed petting animals, watched home alone when it wasn't even close to christmas, the girl who's a hopeless romantic, always running her friend's ear off about that new rom-com she watched or her endless fantasies of her own longing for romance. how were these two antipodes, these two contradictory figures, how did they manage to be the best of friends?
well…to be honest with you, neither of them knew either. all they know is that one day, long ago in middle school, when the boy was too shy to make friends and had no one to talk to, some sort of an angel decided to sit him right beside the overly friendly girl. the one girl- no, scratch that- the one person, who willingly spoke to him when no one else would. and they've been inseparable since then. and despite their many differences, the pair got along just fine. if not, perfect.
"ugh…why do people still stick gum under their desks like this? the trash can is literally right there…" yn groaned, suddenly thankful for the blue rubber gloves she had put on when they started cleaning just ten minutes ago. her eyes wandered upwards and over to the boy when she hears no answer, another sigh escaping her lips when she sees him completely lost in his head once again, those same wired earphones from before plugged into the silver ipod that sat on the table beside where he was sweeping the floor. "earth to taesan?" he's shaken out of his thoughts when the girl appears right in front of him. "huh?" he asks, that phrase coming out of his mouth much too often for her liking. "were you talking to me?" she rolls her eyes, as if it were obvious. "what are you even listening to that's got you all distracted like this?" she wonders, a curious arm reaching out to grab onto the tiny music device. however, before she could even process the white buttons, the ipod was stolen away from her by its now flustered owner. yn cocks an eyebrow up, shooting him a perplexed look. "it…it's nothing! just a new song i've been working on…it's not done yet, i haven't finished it" the boy stutters, he rarely stutters around her, it was so unlike him to be hiding something from her- especially one of his songs that he was always so proud of. "weirdo" she mutters before going back to picking off gum from under her classmates' desks, not catching the way the boy stared at her for a minute, somewhat of a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he did so.
sooner or later, the pair had finished their duties, stuffing the cleaning supplies back in their classroom's closet before leaving and locking the door behind them. on their way out of their school, which had fallen silent apart from the basketball team who had stayed back to practice down in the sports centre, they stopped by the teachers' office to hook the classroom key back onto it's designated spot on the wall. they were on their way home now, or at least, on the way to her home. he always walked with her. even if his house was a whole other thirty minutes away from her neighbourhood in the opposite direction, he insisted on accompanying her every single day.
yn exhales as they walked down the side-walk path towards her complex, a cool breath escaping her lips and the girl starts to regret the fact that she had forgotten her school blazer when she was running late this morning. taesan notices, walking on the side of the street towards the road, shielding her from the cars speeding past them. "cold?" he asks, looking down at her slightly smaller figure. the girl shakes her head, "no" but her voice comes out shaky. the boy laughs out loud, beginning to remove his own school blazer from off of his shoulders. "you're a terrible liar" he says, tossing the article of clothing atop her head, blocking away her sight for just a moment before she grabbed a hold of it. "hold this" she demands, lazily passing him her light-pink backpack before throwing his blazer over her own shoulders, the oversized fit of it making him chuckle lightly. the pair of friends shared mindless conversation as they resumed their journey home, the harsh winds blowing against their hair causing them to squint slightly as they walked. alas, they make it to the front of her gated neighbourhood. the boy smiled softly as she waved him off, disappearing into the distance. taesan crosses the street carefully, turning around before making his long journey back to his own place.
"i'm home!" yn announces, closing the door behind her and tossing her shoes onto the rack to her right. "did your boyfriend walk you home again?" the teasing voice of her brother emerges from up the stairs. the girl rolls her eyes, "mom! jaehyun is bothering me again" she pouts, to which he just scoffs, "that's not a no~" she slaps him on the arm, "mom!!" and then her frown turns into a menacing smirk. "jae, stop bothering your sister!" their mother's voice is stern, echoing from over in the kitchen. "snitch" jaehyun says, pushing his little sister's head lightly as he followed her up the stairs and into her room.
"who's blazer is that? i thought you forgot yours at home this morning? i would know cause i had to do your laundry today" he sneered, slumping himself onto the girl's bed. "oh shit, it's taesan's. he let me wear it on the way home, i completely forgot" yn cussed, slapping her palm against her head as she did so, beginning to take her friend's jacket off. she sighed, "i'll give it back to him tomorrow" jaehyun furrows his eyebrows, "tomorrows a weekend, you're not going to school…unless you have other plans with him...like a date~" her brother shoots her a suggestive grin, his face disappearing when the blazer in her hand is launched at him. "ow!" he yells, rubbing his forehead with a frown. "oh, don't be dramatic. it's a piece of cloth, it's not supposed to hurt" yn scoffs, walking into her closet to change into something more comfortable. "no, something hard in there hit me" the boy says, "what is it?" she asked, entering her bedroom again. "i don't know…" jae mumbles, shuffling slightly as he stuck a hand through the jacket in search of the mystery object.
"aha!" he exclaims, pulling out the infamous silver music player she had seen far too many times already. "an ipod nano? who the fuck uses an ipod these days? can't he listen to music on his phone like a normal person?" his sister glares, moving closer hit him upside his head. "leave him alone, and leave his ipod alone too! he prefers the sound of that thing, plus all his original songs are in there to save space…stop snooping around, he doesn't like that" jaehyun shrugs, seemingly ignoring his sister's words as he pushed the on button, watching as the tiny screen turned white. "anyways, he's probably panicking right now. i should text him and tell him his ipod is safe with me and-" she was cut off by her brother's voice, "yeah, you might want to take a look at this before you do that" she looked at him half-confused and half-pissed off that he had looked through her friend's belongings when she specifically said not to.
"what am i looking at? and i told you not to snoop around!" she exclaimed, a frustrated groan threatening to escape her mouth. "yn, shut up for once and just look at this!" the urgency in his voice fuels the curiosity she had in her heart, giving in as she sat down beside him on her bed. "what…" she trails off, eyes widening as she pulls the small gadget out of her sibling's hand.
"you sure you guys aren't a thing? cause..."
there on the screen, a little folder hidden under all his other ones. and in it, two songs, two original songs: 'about a girl' and 'can't help falling in love' yn snickers a little at the obvious inspiration from his favourite artists nirvana and elvis, her mind picturing a puzzled taesan who couldn't come up with his own song names. however the girl is still lost, and it's the title of the playlist that confuses her. the playlist addressed to her. two simple words in bold letters that said,
'for, yn'
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eee!!! the first part of this short, three part series TT hope u guys enjoyed it 🤭 any guesses for what's going to happen next?? reblogs n feedback highly appreciated!! send me an ask, let's talk abt this 💭😽 excited for u guys to read the next part, featuring song lyrics i wrote myself!! love, kona.
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aces-to-apples · 1 year
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DA: Hawke catches a lot of flack for taking a “centrist” stance and not allowing players to choose/choose not to do certain things within the story but like. That’s the point? As much as we can change them, Hawke isn’t a “player character”—they’re a character that we play as.
Much like, I don’t know, Jak and Daxter or The Last of Us, for the most part we as players don’t actually make decisions for the character we’re controlling so much as go through the motions of how those decisions play out. “Why can’t we do more to support Anders/Justice/Mage Rebellion?” Because Hawke didn’t. “Why can’t we invite all of our poor companions to live with us, instead of just our love interests?” Because Hawke didn’t.
I think being able to customize so much about Hawke (class, personality, physical appearance) fools a lot of players into forgetting that Hawke isn’t just some self-insert RPG character like the Warden was, but a pre-made part of the narrative that shaped events and made certain decisions within the story. Some of those are immutable, things that verifiably happened within the canon, and some of them are more minor and can be altered by the player.
Hawke fled Lothering and lost a sibling—which sibling did they lose? Hawke arrived in Kirkwall and bartered their way in—who did they barter with? Hawke’s sibling left the family and ceased to be a major part of future events—why, and how much of that was Hawke’s doing? Hawke’s mother was murdered and they weren’t able to save her—how far were they willing to go to do so anyway? The Arishok attacked Kirkwall but the Qunari left peacefully soon after—what did Hawke say or do to make that happen? The Chantry exploded and the culprit disappeared—did Hawke help Anders, and did they punish Anders after it was done? The Gallows revolted, a link in a chain reaction that led to the fall of the Circles—did Hawke put the revolt down with the Templars or stand against tyranny with the mages?
But at it’s core, DA2 isn’t really about choosing the story, it’s about witnessing it. Surprising absolutely no one, when I, the Star Wars blog, think about DA2 and the complaints about not being able to have Hawke make the decisions that the players would in their position, I’m reminded of the Revenge of the Sith novelization and the way it opens: 
“This story happened a long time ago... It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.”
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roseworth · 1 year
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i think that the thing that pisses me off most about writers needing to constantly introduce characters is that there are sooooo many underutilized characters that could fill the exact same niche that a new character could but writers arent doing it because a) they want to be Special and make their own characters thatll disappear in 5 years and b) theyre too lazy to tweak the story just a little bit to use an existing character so they just create a new one that no one cares about
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unreal · 4 days
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My Name Is Kanaya Maryam
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You Fucked My Wife
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PREPARE TO DIE
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claitea · 9 months
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finished the dlc! enjoyed it a lot :D
#clai speaks#i'll talk abt it in tags so dont open these if you havent played#first of all. no other mentions of unova at all other than the mention that blueberry academy is located there ok </3#not a big deal ofc i just. really like unova if you couldnt tell HJSBDHHD#actual story was great! its no main story but it didnt need to be. sv's story was already brilliant the dlc didnt need to save it for me--#--like swsh's dlc saved its main game in my eyes. ily calyrex shoutout to my buddy calyrex#lots of little details added like borders for menus that matched your location or phone case and chairs for your picnics!!!#always a sucker for minor aesthetic changes thank you pokemon#carmine made a bad first impression but i warmed up to her i like her a lot :)#kieran...... :( poor guy#weeping sobbing crying about the fact that the last protag sees of him is him crying and running from them#never have i been so upset that i dont have full control of my characters actions within the story#the way carmine and protag kinda just... dismiss kieran so protag can catch ogerpon#talk to him he's distraught!!!!!! he's gonna turn sour in pt 2 no!!!!!! kieran!!!!!!!!!!!!#also speaking of ogerpon. little guy :) very very cute love its mask gimmick#i named mine Kino after the xe/noblade nopon bc i cant think of anything else But a nopon when it keeps saying Pon lmao#also!! sinistcha!!! love how it uses a whisk as hair. also Matcha Gotcha has to be one of my favorite move names now#i'll get around to catching enough pokemon for perrin eventually i'm done for tonight#in summary teal mask was very good i'm very pleased :)
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redrobin-detective · 1 year
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I think one of my problems as an AU fanfic writer is that I have a hard time deviating from canon with my ‘soft AUs’. I can and do come up with all sorts of wild scenarios and spin out from there but I like keeping the facts of canon as close as possible.
I think of the constraints as a challenge, to tell a story within my self imposed limitations. If I change ONE thing, how will events change and in many cases the answer is, not much at all on a story level while I focus on the emotional. But as much as I have adhered to canon and my only personal beliefs, it does tend to make the story a little predictable, a bit boring.
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bluebudgie · 2 years
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You have no idea how good it is to see you again Blish T__T
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tripably · 4 months
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i thought about a fic idea all of last week, obsessing over it night after night and then when I finally had a chance to draft and write it, got approximately three words out in the document
instead I've now spent the day writing another completely different fic that came to me this morning. almost 5k words at this point, completely drafted out in the form of dialogue, and some entire scenes actually written out too
because why on earth would creativity be in any way controllable, that's clearly not how it works
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arolesbianism · 2 months
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Tiphereth suppression finally complete babeyyyy
#rat rambles#lisa my beloved <3#her brother also exists ig.#I did it first try too which honestly is a relief it took forever idk how many times I could handle doing all that#which also means that the other two are now ready for their core suppressions which is both exiting and scary#exciting because it means that I can tell alruine to fuck off#scary because red mist boss fight 😔#I have no idea what to expect but tbh I rly cant be any more prepared than I already am#I have all the aleph gear not counting apocalypse bird and white night gear#and I have all the waw gear except for the one waw I havent gotten yet#in fact there's only 4 abnos I havent gotten yet I think and two of those are toold#I might stall a bit by memory repositing until I get those out of the way but I also might not idk#what I am starting to have to think abt tho is the two side bosses I previously mentioned#I do think apocalypse bird might be doable for me rn but white knight is a more tricky story#mostly because quite frankly I dont have 12 employees available to sacrifice to start the fight#I can obviously just make some new throaway guys but still#now setting up apocalypse bird would also be annoying since I currently only have judgement bird in my facility#rly Im just not sure which of my guys can or cant handle either boss#cause I do need the manpower but I also just am not confident that most of the gear my guys have will do them much good#now one thing that may be kind of pointless but I still wanna do is get silent orchestras ego gift on one of my guys#because god damn is that a powerful buff even if white damage isnt that common outside of anbno breaches#it would be fun in the sense that thatd make my girl able to solo any abnos that deal white damage#again its good dont get me wrong its just definitely smth that isnt as widly applicable as youd think#but yeah ideally I dont wanna do another day one reset and I rly do think this could be the run#the only reason I reset my first one rly was because I had gotten bored grinding for gear and also just wanted to finish my abno info#collection easier since there was a shit load of low level abnos I was missing#now the only ''''low level'''' abno Im missing is plague doctor for well. obvious reasons.#so yeah I should be pretty good and done with my info gathering within a session or two#tbh I dont even know what the wellfare meltdown looks like but Im much less scared of it than the boss fights I have up ahead#stinky b is also going to be tricky but Im hoping it wont be too bad
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shaguro · 3 months
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{ "SKIN TIGHT.ᐟ" }
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{ft. satoru g.} when you realize that you’re falling in love with your friends with benefits, you distance yourself. ghost him after each session. but this time, gojo won’t let you go so easily.
{warnings.} fwb!gojo x reader. fwb to lovers trope! fem!reader, orgasm denial, missionary, breeding kink (like if you sqint) unprotected sex. pet names used, (baby, girl) gojo is a lil delulu. extremely intimate. angsty throughout but ends happy. wc. 2k.
{shanti’s note!} heavily inspired by skin tight by ravyn lenae. listen to the playlist for this story here.
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“are you.. are you just usin’ me, (y/n)? just think you can fuck me whenever you feel like? that’s just cruel, baby.”
you knew this was coming.
satoru was pretty much good at everything, sex included. it’s why you initiated this arrangement in the first place, being his friend and fucking him whenever you wanted to. the terms were simple: casual sex with no unwanted, lingering emotions. love is complicated, exhausting — after a handful of failed relationships, you wanted no parts of it and threw in the towel, officially out the game.
he’s not wrong, you do use him. fuck him and disappear by the next morning, unseen and unreachable until you decide to show up at his doorstep again, sometimes days — usually weeks later.
you know he’ll let you in, no matter how much time has passed. just cruel.
“you’re evil. you and this fuckin’—“ he sucks in a sharp breath, tilts his head back. gooey walls mold his dick, all ribbed and dangerously warm. is this why he lets you play him like this? “. . . tight ass pussy you’ve got.”
if it wasn’t for satoru holding your legs up and open, veined hands creased in the bend of your knees, you’re sure they would’ve gave out. he’d been relentless with his teasing this session and you were puffing, the shallow breaths left a slight tremble throughout your body. sweat beads rolled down your temple, cascade down the junction of your neck.
satoru denies you an orgasm for the umptheeth time and you start to think he’s the cruel one. you deserve it, though. this torture, his crafty method of punishment.
he’s had you like this for some time, the deep rut of his hips halted, everything is still. just satoru and his cerulean-speckled iries glowering down on you, goosebumps decorated your skin. you knew he was waiting for some sort of explanation to rationalize the mess you’d created but you weren’t sure where to start.
with your cheek smushed on your shoulder, you decide to fix your eyes on something, anything across the room to avoid his stare that was burning into the side of your head. “‘toru, i’m sorry.”
satoru scoffs, his trimmed fingernails indent your soft skin. “damn, now you’re lyin’ to me too? must really wanna hurt my feelings.”
“i’m not, i swear—“
“you disappear for three months and all you have to say is sorry?” he spat, his words had an uncharacteristic sharpness to them, hard and demeaning. it wasn’t hard to detect the underlying rage that rumbled within his entire being. “no explanation? just sorry? nah.. you gotta.. you gotta give me more than that, (y/n).”
taken aback, you bite down on your bottom lip, at a complete loss for words. there isn’t much you can say to pacify him, you doubt he’d care to hear it. what worked before certainly won’t work now.
the quiet is deafening and suspenseful.
and your silence angers him further, on levels you can’t fathom. you won’t weasel your way out of this, he concludes. you’ll give him an answer, even if it’s at the expense of his already bruised ego.
“hey.. look at me.” he sneers, and you feel the warmth of his skin on your chin, his thumb and pointer fingers curl as they angle your head forward and back onto his face. “just.. talk to me, please.”
satoru gojo, begging? oh yeah, you’ve really done a number on him.
you take your time as you admire him, basking in the sheer beauty of the man in front of you. obnoxious and arrogant as he was, satoru gojo is undeniably attractive, simply gorgeous — pink, kiss-bitten lips slightly parted and his cheeks a pretty shade of red from the exertion, you gather. his abs are chiseled and tense and if you peek lower, you’re met with neatly trimmed, white tufts of hair at the base of his dick.
“you…” you stop to clear your throat but it didn’t need clearing, only to counteract how embarrassingly weak your voice sounded. “..y-you wouldn’t understand, satoru— oh!”
he exhales deep through his nose and suddenly leans down, releasing his hold on your knees to brace his elbows on the satin-sheets. while he does this, his hips roll — slow as he feeds you all his thick inches until he bottoms out, his pelvis taut against your neglected clit.
you mewl out and your hands encircle his neck, scratching at the low hairs on his nape. he’s so close, your noses basically touch. his breath fans your face, cooling your rather hot cheeks. “then help me understand, baby. make it easy f’me, whatever it is.. i can handle it.”
you’re not worried about him not being able to handle it, in fact you’re not worrying about anything at all. how can you when he’s got you stuffed, stretched and full like this?
concentration is impossible as satoru sets a steady, languid pace — not too slow nor too fast, just enough to have your manicured, white toes curling. your mouth in the shape of a pretty ‘o’, your breathy whimpers resounding off the walls of satoru’s bedroom, the beautiful symphony ringing in his ears.
an addicting melody, you were like his own personal drug. insatiable and persistent, gojo was unsure if he’d ever get his fill of you, truly he didn’t care. as long as he had you here with him, where you belonged.
“c’mere,” he pants and leans in, connecting your lips in a swift motion. you melt into the kiss, jaw slack while your tongues meld and mix. it’s fervent like always but this sensation is new — raw, almost vulnerable. pouring his heart out to you in all his movements and you can feel all of it.
“‘toru, oh my g-god.” you grip his forearms, keening as his length drags along a spot that has stars twinkling behind your lids. “i was j-just— fuck!”
“just what baby?” he mocks, it wouldn’t be gojo if he didn’t find a way to tease you, even in the most intimate of moments. he litters kisses along your jawbone before latching onto the delicate skin on the column of your throat, grazing his teeth on the surface to ensure it’ll leave colorful marks, letting out a pretty whine of his own. “shit, squeezing me s’tight- gotta use your w-words f’me.”
well, that’s easier said than done. your body is trembling in a way that can only be caused by satoru, every time your mouth opens to form words only meek, whiney moans follow. your tips scratch the plane of his delts, surely leaving cat-like scratches in their wake. and your legs hang loosely off his slim waist as you cling to him for dear life.
“i was just s-scared, satoru.” your voice was low, it was nearly drowned out by the wet squelching of your pussy. the constant schlap schlap schalp of satoru’s pelvis meeting the fatty flesh of your thighs.
satoru’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes meet yours, his head slightly tilted in confusion. “scared of what? of me?
“no!” you shake your head profusely and reach a shaky hand up to cup his face. he leans into the touch, the heat of his cheek warming your palm. if there was one person you’d feel eternally safe and protected with, it’s him. “no.. never. it’s the w-way you make me, hmm, f-feel that i was scared of.”
“oh? and how do i make you feel?” he purrs prior to kissing you again, nibbling on your bottom lip. truth be told, he wasn’t sure what you were about to say. he prayed to the god above you couldn’t feel the rapid beating of his heart, notice the uneven rise and fall of his chest. so he plays it off, even with that slight tremor in his voice. “you love me or somethin’?”
it might be more than love. a deep attachment, a classic case of yearning and longing. gojo satoru was made for you. no amount of denying or running from the obvious would change that fact. you love him so badly it hurts, it consumes you — clouds your thoughts and steals the air from your lungs. no more fighting, you had no energy left to.
you’re surrendering yourself to satoru gojo and it was time to let him know.
“yeah,” you confirm with a giggle, all airy and breathless. your thumb strokes his cheek gingerly, tilting your chin up so your foreheads touch. “i love you, satoru.”
satoru doesn’t respond, in fact he was deadly silent. mouth agape, his eyes darting wildly as he examines your face, searching for signs of roguery but he found none. you were telling the truth, the love swelling in your eyes made it oh so apparent.
“again.”
you let out a surprised yelp when satoru presses his body down, the pressure of his weight dips into your chest, leaving you winded. his face is buried in the crook of your neck where the neediest whines roll off his tongue. with this new angle, he’s balls-deep and the rhythm his hips carry has your eyes rolling, holding his broad shoulders to ground yourself.
skin-tight, it’s like your bodies, your sounds are one.
“s-say you love me again.” he rasps, and it’s more pleading than demanding. like he needs reassurance.
“i love you s-so muchh— ohgod, don’t stop, don’t stop!” your words trail into high-pitched mewls and satoru sighs, a blissful sound of relief. your pussy clamps down on his dick greedily, sucking him in impossibly deeper as he massages your aching walls, un-calculated and sloppy.
this was the effect you had on him, you always left him a fucking mess. satoru would let you ruin him, every time, for as long as he lived. “don’t know how long i’ve b-been, hah, waitin’ to fuckin’ hear t-that.”
you’d tease him for the stutter in his words if you could think clearly but your mind is blank. you’re delightfully delirious as satoru pounds into you, giving you quite literally everything he’s got. simply insatiable, you still want more. settling a weak hand on his hip, you use the last of your strength to propel him forward, your juices aimlessly squelching between your bodies, dripping down your perineum.
“f-fuck girl, you-you’re drivin’ me crazy. n-not gonna last, baby. f-feel like y-you’re tryn’ to milk me.” satoru babbles, and you swear you can feel a warm trickle of drool on your collarbone. how cute, he’s just as brainless as you are.
his pace is frantic now and that familiar tingling is building your gut. your limps are limp against him, your whole body rocks in tandem with his as he works his hardest to bring the two of you to completion.
“satoru, m’gonna cum, s’closeee.” you whine, lashes fluttering as salty tears clustered on your lash line.
he only hums in response, snaking one of his hands between your bodies to find your clit, all your sticky slick had your mound drenched. he smirks whilst rubbing figure eights on the sensitive nub, your quivering folds dragging a deep groan from his chest.
“want m-me to fill you up, hmm? p-pump this pretty pussy with all my cum.. want it all, y-yeah?” he’s rambling is incessant and you nod dumbly. it’s in one ear and out the other, the pure euphoria coursing through your bones driving you insane and all you needed was release.
it was the pinch to your clit that did it, the final blow that had your back arching almost painfully as your climate rushes through your body in intervals, your hardened nipples brush against satoru’s pecs as you twitch uncontrollably, a chain of broken cries mixed with his name fall from your lips like water.
like clockwork, satoru’s orgasm follows directly after, he muffles his moans in your shoulder, damn near biting the skin as he pumps you full, as promised. it’s alarmingly warm, scorching as it invades and overflows within your womb, too much for it to handle, some of it spilling back out. satoru doesn’t pull out, plugging as much of his semen as he can to your insides.
the silence after is comfortable. the two of you in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and panting from the intensity of your shared orgasms. you’d make your way to the bathroom, eventually. for now, you bask in the blissful ambiance.
“(y/n)?” satoru’s voice breaks the silence, a whisper as his head lulls on the fat of your breast.
“hmm?”
“i love you too.”
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@screampied @satorena @hoshigray made yall wait long enough LMAO.
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big-bird-nerd · 1 year
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I know people have grown immune to the notions of “both sides-ism,” which is the proper move when you’re dealing with politics and history that you have direct experience with, are directly affected by, and know the history of. I think what people don’t realize is that the bourgeoisie will and does weaponize this to promote belief in racist myths, using it as a method to make people resistant to or outright immune to actually studying the conditions and history of the place they are trying to make you hate. I really think people would do well to understand why and how the Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion functioned well as propaganda despite being complete and total bullshit, and yes it’s because people wouldn’t listen to Jewish people who told you it was bullshit because it played on very real hatred of Jewish people and of fears born of violence and oppression people faced in their everyday lives (which was not from Jewish people, but the bullshit protocols tell you otherwise).
Like, if someone is making a massive claim about something occurring in another place, particularly if it’s weirdly familiar to things happening where you’re living, and there is a large amount of people *from within the groups being talked about* who deny the claims, you should probably at least be ambivalent, if not use that as a sign for further research.
“But information from the other side is biased!” It is good to be aware of biased information. Understand that there is no unbiased information; the information you know is also biased info. It requires research of multiple perspectives to determine the truth from biased sources. The best way to determine degrees of truth within biased sources is to study the histories of the locations and relations between the cultures in question.
“Information from the other side is propaganda!” It is good that you’ve grown aware to the basic functioning of propaganda and are staying aware of how information manipulated you. Keep in mind; people said the same thing about Jews denying the Elders Of The Protocols Of Zion, a document that any sensible modern person knows was bullshit. If you’re afraid of being manipulated through misinformation, then read critically, but do not deny something just because it’s inconvenient to your current understanding of social oppression, one that is itself still biased. Also understand that since all information is biased, any political information is necessarily propaganda, which includes the sources of whatever has given you your current information; you should be reading that critcally too to avoid being manipulated. In fact, you’re vastly more susceptible to propaganda from home since the propaganda is actively targeting you, as propaganda tends to focus largely if not entirely within the confines of the country the government operates; nobody gives a shit how Americans feel about their country insofar as Americans aren’t actively calling to blow them up.
“Oppression isn’t unique to America/the west, and we must stand with all people who are oppressed!” This is correct information; oppression has a history across the entirety of the world. However, what it’s missing is an understanding of the meaning behind the fact that oppression is systemic and how this relates to being part of a colonial, imperial country. While your energy is not wrong on an individual level, the fact that it doesn’t account for your own racist colonial government makes it misguided in a way that supports the racist colonial system where you live. Racist misinformation and myths are used to manufacture consent for colonial and imperial violence upon another nation. That means uncritically spreading and believing such information promotes the colonial and imperial characteristics of your government.
To stop dancing around the biggest example of this; while you may have only the best of intentions for people in North Korea, the fact is that misinformation that makes people afraid and hateful of the DPRK, yes even its government, exists to justify the imperial history and ongoing actions that your governments take part in. They aren’t interested in saving the people of Korea any more than they were when they were “spreading Christianity to the natives to save their souls.” Their interest is in stealing the trillions of dollars worth of minerals in the DPRK, which necessarily means massacring the people who currently live and work there and devastating the landscape in potentially irreparable ways. This is already well proven from how the Korean War went, with some villages completely and totally destroyed by US bombing, as well as the use of biological warfare, which has had long term consequences on Korea as a whole and beyond; the US doesn’t care because protecting the people isn’t on their agenda, they just want the minerals.
Discussing the nature of misinformation is not overlooking or erasing the existence of oppression and bigotry in other countries any more than acknowledging The Elders Of The Protocols Of Zion is complete and total misinformation is denying the existence of Jewish bourgeoisie (a minority but still technically existing) or denying the imperial colonial violence enacted by the Israeli government on Palestine. People did not spread the Protocols because they predicted the current state of Israel and wanted to stop it, they wanted an excuse for perfoming and enacting pogroms on Jewish people, up to and including Shoah.
To use a more historic example, there was a lot of oppression and systemic violence in the Aztec Empire. According to surviving reports, it was an expansionist slave empire, not exactly the best of places to live. However, you see I said ‘surviving.’ The remaining accounts are largely Spanish colonial accounts, as the Spanish completely destroyed the empire, massacred the peoples across South America, assimilating and genociding peoples wherever they went. Even if all accounts of the horrors of the Aztecs were completely and totally true (which is rather doubtful but I’m not an expert), it does not mean the information was learned and spread because the Spanish wanted to save the Aztecs. It is an excuse for the genocide was enacted upon people. People back in Spain probably had good intentions when they talked about improving the life conditions of people in Spain. Improvement to life conditions did not occur; life was destroyed and people were enslaved to a genocidal power, and to this day are still fighting back strongly against the systems of oppression that continue trying to kill everyone off. Even if the entirety of the Spanish colonizers said they only hated the Aztec government, it doesn’t mean the violence they perpetrated did not primarily target the civilians and even the oppressed groups and slaves.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s a lie, I’m not going to be acting on it and I don’t support the state anyway.” People do not make up lies about a hated national group with good intentions in their heart, and the existence of such lies should immediately alert you to violent intent, and spreading those lies must be understood as supporting those violent intentions and actions. This is what it means for racism to be systemic; your individuals beliefs and intentions don’t matter if your actions allow for the systemic oppression and violence towards these groups.
Western governments, and particularly the US, represent the most powerful global imperial force. They do and will continue to use misinformation to manipulate people into submitting to its systems of violence that seeks to oppress not just people in its own borders, but those in other borders too. You don’t have to like the governments of other countries, feel free to dislike the governments of China, Russia, DPRK, Cuba, Venezuela, Vietnam, or whatever. If you are truly anti-racist though, you must not spread racist misinformation, even if to you it only would be harmful to the governments of those cultural groups; the government doesn’t lie to criticize the governments of other nations, but to push towards war to crush, rob, rape, and murder the people who live in their borders. Being anti-racist must necessarily mean not spreading these lies and even better, not allowing those you know to believe and spread such lies, for the good of the oppressed people in your own country as much as around the world. After all, misinformation spreads and creates hatred, and the people living within your own borders will enact that hatred on the people in your country, even if you won’t.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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omg could you maybe write something about reader going to one of jacks soccer games and all of the moms are jealous of her bc she’s with hotch
not so friendly competition
omg i absolutely can cw; fem!reader, jealous suburban moms, one tries to make a pass at aaron, established relationship, small angst?, pettiness, aaron being adorable <3 wc; 1.3k
from the moment you arrived - a hand clasped in aaron's, jack excitedly sprinting ahead the two of you - you could feel the target on your back.
the warm, refreshing morning suddenly felt quite stuffy. as if strangely enough, there wasn't enough air to go around. the feeling especially solidified when aaron gave you a sweet, parting kiss - him off to uphold his coaching duties, you off to find a spot on the grass to set up your chair.
you half expected it, the feeling out of place and self consciousness; this was jack's second season playing soccer, aaron's second season coaching, and most of the players had returned from last year. long story short, and entering a relationship with aaron only a few weeks after jack's season had concluded, you were the new face.
not only that, you were missing a common trait amongst the others. you weren't, by definition, jack's mom.
it was a silly, technical notion, and it was quite possible you weren't the only outlier, but you simply wanted to belong there just as much as the others. to feel as if you belonged.
and that's definitely not how you currently felt.
despite your perception - hoping you had falsely and quickly misjudged the atmosphere - you offered the moms a smile and a hello as you got settled. you got maybe one, two responses in return, before they resumed their ongoing conversation without you. any hopefulness that remained, deflated as you sat there silently.
and while you weren't exactly listening to them, you could still make out bits and pieces of their conversation. however, your ears fully perked up at the mention of aaron. which also brought you into the discussion.
"you're with the coach?"
her question wasn't based on genuine interest, a getting-to-know-type basis, a friendly conversation starter. but, it was rather accusatory, as if you'd done something detrimentally wrong.
you nodded, your eyebrows furrowing briefly in confusion. "yes?"
"like... with him?"
oh.
the standoffish environment wasn't due to you being unwelcome, or, at least not in the way you had previously anticipated. it was jealousy, plain jealousy. they must've spent all of last season ogling aaron, and here you were, getting in the way.
again, you nodded in confirmation. a few grimaces were produced amongst several faces, igniting something deep within you, suddenly feeling very protective of aaron and your relationship.
you casually shot back, relentlessly, "why, is that a problem?"
the mom shrugged, pulling her eyes from yours annoyingly, as if you'd done her an injustice.
she didn't stop there though, uttering something under her breath. while you didn't hear what it was exactly - the low tone definitely indicated she had just insulted you in one way or another.
and choosing to remain on the civil side, you held your tongue.
the whispers continued sparingly; as much as it stung, and as much as the red-hot feeling that had settled in your body was uncomfortable, why should you let it affect you? they weren't a threat, they were suburban moms - probably peaked in high school, probably relied off their husband's salary, probably thought they were better than each and every person they came across.
you could be annoyed, but you weren't worried. the bigger picture, you had what they wanted; you had aaron. you've already won, despite any fights they attempted to pick.
"i need to stretch my legs." the same woman abruptly said, loudly to gain your interest.
she promptly rose, walking towards the team's bench. or more specifically, right up to aaron.
she was quick to strike up a conversation with him - overdramatizing her already-shrill laugh, displaying open body language, the sweetest smile she could muster up.
what did you in, a 'friendly' touch to his arm before she retreated, whenever she finished saying whatever the hell was so important she had felt the need to interrupt his coaching for.
and throughout such, aaron appeared as his typical friendly self as he engaged with her, as expected. although a look of confusion did flash across his face when she graced his arm.
your jaw clenched in anger, but you kept reminding yourself: her actions were just to spite you, just to piss you off, and you refused to give her the reaction she seemingly so desperately craved.
so when she returned, with an awfully smug look plastered on her face and dropping into her chair with a sense of pure satisfaction, you kept your focus forward. you came to watch jack's game, and that's exactly what you were going to do.
but during the mid-game break, once aaron had finished talking with the kids and they sprinted back onto the field to practice some goals, did you approach him.
"hi sweetheart," aaron mumbled into your skin as he kissed your temple, one of his hands comfortably finding your back. "enjoying the game?"
you nodded, offering him a timid smile.
"what's wrong?"
"nothing." you lied, tucking yourself into his chest. you took a deep breath and sighed, smelling the traces of light sweat and grass clinging to him.
"you don't think i buy that, do you?" he asked, a gentle, almost comical tone to his words - all to lighten up your present tension. "what is it?"
you shook your head, "i don't want to talk about it..." your eyes shot over to your new best friends, whose eyes were glued to the two of you. "here."
aaron glanced over at them, profiling immediately. "are they giving you a hard time?"
after a moment's hesitation, an annoyed huff escaped you. "let's just say they're not too happy that the coach is taken."
"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly, his face scrunching the smallest amount in confusion. "half of them are married."
"clearly that doesn't matter, they're still over there undressing you with their eyes." you arched an eyebrow, the scowl on your face only deepening.
"c'mon, you're too pretty to make that face." aaron lightly teased, kissing your pout gently. at the touch, your face did relax, the ends of your lips itching to turn upwards into a smile.
"oh they're gonna hate that you did that."
aaron shrugged, kissing you again. "let them."
you surrendered yourself to your smile, but you still frustratedly crossed your arms in front of your chest. "it's ridiculous."
aaron was quick to untangle your hands, holding onto them and applying a gentle squeeze. "you know you don't have competition. you have me."
"i know. that's why i feel so stupid i'm letting it bother me." you gritted through your teeth. "what did that one woman even say to you?"
"truthfully, i couldn't tell you. i wasn't paying attention." he answered honestly, his eyebrows drawing into a line as he even attempted to mentally recall it.
you couldn't help but laugh, pressing yourself more into him. "you're insufferable."
"i try." aaron joked, but his expression switched tactics, to genuine concern as he moved in front of you, "in all seriousness, are you going to be okay?"
"yeah." you brought your hands to his chest, running your thumbs against his pecs affectionately. you already were. "i have you, don't i?"
"and you could always stay here with me." aaron playfully, but earnestly offered. "and be my beautiful, thoughtful, astounding, beautiful assistant coach."
"you drive a hard bargain," your eyebrows rose, feeling his chuckle underneath your fingers. "but it's okay. i'm not gonna let them think they're running the show, or that they can step on me like that." you shook your head. "and as needed, i might have to flaunt you around."
aaron grinned, proudly. "that's my girl."
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a-b-riddle · 28 days
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Part 7
Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader
(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)
No harm done yet.
You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.
You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.
But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.
You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.
Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?
Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?
You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.
It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.
The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.
Whatever.
Fuck him.
You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.
By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.
You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.
Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.
"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.
She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....
You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.
Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.
Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.
But they looked hot. Really hot.
"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."
"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."
"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."
A little over two years ago
"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."
"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.
"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."
"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.
"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."
"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.
"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.
"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.
"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.
What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.
Dead. Perfect.
The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.
He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.
It wasn't always great to be right.
When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.
You fucking bolted.
Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.
You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.
"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.
You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.
He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.
It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.
The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.
Fear.
You were afraid.
You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.
Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.
"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."
"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"
"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.
"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.
"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.
"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.
Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.
"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."
"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.
"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.
"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."
"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.
Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.
You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.
You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.
Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.
No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.
"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"
You felt your cheeks flush with heat.
"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.
There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.
You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.
Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.
You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.
"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"
"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.
"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."
"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.
Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.
You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.
Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.
Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.
"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.
"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.
Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.
"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."
"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.
They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.
And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.
You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.
Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?
You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.
You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.
Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.
John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.
Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?
Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.
Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.
John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.
Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.
So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.
"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.
Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.
"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.
You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.
The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.
Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.
Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-
"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.
"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.
"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'
"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.
"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.
Jesus, when did you become so harsh.
I blame Simon.
"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....
Little bitch.
"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?
"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.
"There's no need for that-"
"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.
"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."
"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"
And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.
You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"
"My friends call me-"
"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."
His expression fell.
"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.
"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."
You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.
"What did you do?" Mere asked.
"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.
"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.
"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.
"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."
"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.
"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."
"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.
"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.
"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.
"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."
"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.
"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."
"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.
"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."
"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."
"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"
"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.
"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.
Unfortunately, it did not.
You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.
Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.
"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.
You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.
"You mean like they did you?"
And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.
"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.
"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.
Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.
Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?
It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.
What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.
"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.
"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.
"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"
You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?
"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."
"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.
"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.
And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.
But you didn't need to do any of that.
In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.
"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.
You could handle you own against Percy.
But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.
You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.
"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.
You knew that all too well.
Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"
It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.
Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.
You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.
"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.
He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.
Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.
It was a promise.
"We're over." You reminded.
"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"
"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."
"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."
The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.
"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.
"I know you did."
"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.
"Just did." Was his only answer.
"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.
"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.
"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.
"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.
"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."
He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.
His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.
He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?
He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.
You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.
But you didn't.
You were tired.
So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."
"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"
There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.
With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.
Only this time, it was directed at you.
One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'
"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."
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