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painted-bees · 9 months

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Haha! Okay..! [[deep inhale]]

So, back before Magritte moved in with Raf, when they were first just meeting up for weekly jam sessions at the recording studio, Raf had kinda…only agreed to jam with her on the conditions that nothing would be recorded, no photos or social media posts about it, none of that. Magritte didn't care, she just wanted to play music with someone who was fun to play music with and wouldn't get bored of her after only an hour of it. She never pushed it. It never even came up in conversation. Total non-issue.

Eventually, once Magritte moved in and Raf started getting more confident/comfortable about her, he found that he very enjoyed collaborating with her on compositions, and had found himself wishing he could hear recordings of it. And so, it was him who suggested that they record some of the stuff they played, and–allowed her to post it to YouTube and such, so long as he was left uncredited or given a pseudonym.

Magritte wasn't comfortable leaving him uncredited, and so consistently credited him as "Albatross" whenever his contributions were present in the work and recordings she posted. Raf knew about this, she never uploaded anything without permission. Her online presence/audience was very small and humble, it was fine.

They began playing at very small venues together, their "band" being named something totally different, and increasingly silly with each new gig. For Raf, this was his deliberate, careful, slow crawl out of a decade of extreme burnout. He promised himself that if it became at all stressful or stopped being fun, then he'd stop--plain and simple.

His hard, fast rule with Magritte was "no contracts". If something required his signature, it wasn't gonna happen. He wasn't interested in getting dragged back into the "business" of music and showmanship, but he was very cautiously keen on rediscovering his joy for playing violin, and of playing to an audience. Magritte was, genuinely, the perfect accompaniment to help him ease back into it on his own terms. Though she wanted to make a living with her music, the money wasn't her goal--it was simply a thing that would allow her to keep playing music. If she didn't need the money to live, she'd have been content just playing music for fun every day for whoever would wanna listen to it. There were no dreams of "making it big" just dreams of "doing this forever, without anything else getting in the way of it".

It's hard to say if it was due to one of Magritte's "Albatross" uploads, or if it was an audience recording from one of their small venue shows, or something else that put them on the radar, but one afternoon, Magritte received a very exciting email from the A&R division of a major record label--and experienced that ADHD bone-rattling excitement that only an impossible dream-come-true email inquiry could provide lmao.

She and Raf stop by a local coffee shop after work most days, and this was when Magritte decided to hand Raf her phone, asking if the email looked legit. He seemed to be in a pretty good mood, and she intended for the question to serve as a barometer as to whether she should suggest giving the label a chance or not. She figured, if he seemed uncomfy just assessing whether the inquiry was real and not a scam, then she wouldn't push it further than that.

But honestly, with a label this big, if it was legit, he'd at least be a little curious to know more about the offer, right?

No.

It's doubtful that Raf had even read past the first line of the email before his "pretty good mood" became stiff and cold as stone. Magritte felt the chances of a receptive outcome drop below zero as she watched the muscles of his jaw tense up.

His response was to ask, "Why are you bringing this to me? It doesn't matter if it's a scam or not, we had an agreement."

Taken aback by his hard, almost hostile tone, Magritte stammered that she thought he'd at least find the inquiry somewhat amusing, but "you're not even going to consider it, just for a second?" Raf repeated to her again that he had already told her contract and such were out of the question. She had been fine with it, she had assured him, even, that it was a non-issue. “Yeah, but–this one’s kind of a big deal.” To which Raf balked, “You thought I’d just change my mind if a ‘big enough’ company reached out to us?” And Magritte, defensively, blurted, “No, because it didn’t even cross my mind as a possibility!”

Raf pushed the phone over the table to her, and leaned back in his seat, stunned for a moment by the onslaught of his own racing thoughts and really, all he was able to say was "Why are you doing this to me? Why you?"

Recognizing that 1) she really stepped in it, and 2) she was too excited about this stupid email to abandon the pursuit of its possible offer as suddenly as the situation was demanding her to, Magritte stood to her feet suddenly, muttering apologies, saying something in frazzled tones about needing to get her thoughts straight before she said something stupid. She took her abrupt leave, but not before telling Raf that she'll meet him at home because she needs to settle her brain over a walk before she can talk reasonably with him about it. A quick “I love you” and she was out.

Genuinely, it was the best thing she could think to do in order to avoid stubbornly, injuriously digging into the subject deeper while her ears and face flushed hot with both shame and disappointment. It wasn't going to be a productive conversation while her vision danced with black splotches under the intensity of her emotions.

Unfortunately, removing herself from the situation as suddenly as she had created it meant that she had left Raf to sit and plummet into dread, with no voice to counter the incomprehensibly catastrophic flurry of his thoughts.

As he had grown more and more comfortable with her, there had been a louder and louder alarm in his consciousness that told him the other shoe was gonna drop, that he had to back off if he wanted to avoid the devastating affirmation that Magritte, too, had only ever intended to use him. God, she played him so brilliantly, too. How had she managed to convince him to let her record? To post their sessions? To play in venues. How had she managed to get him to suggest it, like it had been his idea. It felt crazy to him that he somehow didn't realise it was all leading to exactly this situation. He had considered it, the notion was always there tickling the back of his mind like a persistent rash…but he really, really thought he was just being paranoid. He wanted so badly to believe he was…just being paranoid. Like a fucking idiot.

He got himself home, it was past dinner time, he didn't wait for Magritte to get back. Slammed back some sleeping meds and slam dunked himself into bed in order to avoid losing his goddamned mind.

Magritte's evening was…considerably more productive. The walk back home began with her mulling over all the ways Raf was being unreasonable and unfair for not at least entertaining the email. If the offer turned out to be no good, then it was no good! They should at least be able to discuss and consider it in a calm and mature manner, right? While it was true that he already had (and ended) an extremely successful musical career, she herself had yet to even get her foot in the door. She wasn’t anywhere near close to being able to make ends meet with her music, and her parents would never take her hard work and passion for it seriously until she was able to prove to them that it was actually worth something; that it was a sustainable, reliable path to pursue. It shouldn’t have mattered to her what they thought, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but make their approval/recognition/validation a core motivating factor in proving herself as a ‘competent’ musician. That competency, unfortunately, was measured by income and the willingness of a well known company to invest in her work. Being able to tell her parents that she was signed under something like Universal or such would have definitely turned their opinion around, and maybe…MAYBE they’d even see the value in helping her afford to study music at a university..! And shit, she’d finally be able to contribute to paying rent and utilities without breaking a sweat about it…she might even have gained an expendable income, she could finally start repaying Raf for all those little gifts and surprises he’d treat her with. Imagine.

Even before she had attempted to approach Raf about the email, she already had the picture of their life making music together as they have been–but with a more tangible goal/purpose, and without any outside obligations taking them away from just waking up and jamming every day. Playing music that just…paid for itself. Stress free!

But Raf couldn’t even entertain it. He was so upset that she’d even bring it up at all. Did he even read the email? Or did he see just the subject line and shut down?

She elected to read the email again, an effort to soothe herself by finding any reason to believe it was just a scam; that all her excitement and fanciful thoughts of the future were just her getting childishly ahead of herself. She didn't find what she was looking for. The name of the scouting agent was legit, there was no mention of money nor a fee, the email was clear, straightforward, and without any hype-y language. But what Magritte did notice–that she had somehow missed the previous fifty times she had read the email–was that the email didn’t refer Raf by his ‘Albatross’ pseudonym. It had named him in full; Rafael Ephrem. Somehow, -somehow-, the person who sent the email had been able to identify him. And–if they knew who he was… Magritte considered…The inquiry was sent to her email but the offer, specifically, was likely much more interested in him. It made sense. Magritte herself was untrained and unproven; a literal nobody. But, she was the only person Raf was making music with, and his name was very provenly bankable; a safe bet. Magritte had been so flattered and excited by the notion that she was being noticed and contacted by a label, it had been such an uplifting validation–but… The simple fact was that they likely would not have given Magritte the time of day had they not, somehow, recognized Rafael’s involvement in her work.

The offer was about him, not her. She was simply easier to get in touch with.

When she considered the situation from that angle, other aspects became apparent. Raf had, in no uncertain terms, been very clear from the beginning that he would not be signing anything with her. She knew that he was recovering from burnout, that he was wholly disinterested in pursuing music in any kind of professional capacity. Even if he had gone along with indulging Magritte’s excitement for her sake, would he have been sacrificing the joy of making music with her, and surrendering himself to the labor of it, instead? Would it have slowly soured their relationship? If he felt obliged and pressured to create and play, would that have leached the joy out of it?

By ignoring the inquiry, Magritte wasn’t actually losing anything, herself. There was much to gain, potentially, by pursuing it–but she lost nothing in ignoring it. Things were already really good. She liked the relationship she had with Raf, as it was. He had given her a place to stay, and encouraged her near single-minded focus on music, allowed her to compose and play music as much as she wanted without pressuring her to divide her focus on other, more ‘important’ things. He didn’t take offence or feel ignored when she’d spend an entire weekend in her room just doin’ music stuff. He’d never even startle her out of the productive flow by shouting her name from the kitchen, in annoyance, to tell her for the upteenth time that she needed to clean the dishes right now. He let her pursue her joy and, often, he’d delight in joining in on it as well. This was the happiest, most comfortable she had ever felt in her life. In her mind, signing onto a label would have just let her continue doing that, but more securely.

For Raf, though…signing onto a label, being forced to take the work ‘seriously’, it likely felt like a tremendous loss to him. And–she had put him in an unfair position. If he signed on, he’d be surrendering himself to the work he did not wish to do, and would be inching ever closer to the life he had worked so hard to escape and recover from. But–by defending his own desires, comforts, and boundaries, and shutting down this whole label thing without giving it any space to sink roots as a tree of possibility, he risked planting the seeds of resentment into their relationship by denying her a potentially life-changing opportunity that he, no doubt, knew was of tremendous significance to her. From his perspective, it must have looked like a lose-lose situation. A situation that he had foreseen and took fair measures to avoid long, long in advance. He had already told her from the very beginning that this was something he would not do. But she had to test it anyway. Because she got too excited. Because of course she did.

Nah, she decided. She’d just get back home, tell Raf she was suffering excite-brained tunnel vision, wasn’t thinking realistically, and that she had therefore agreed with him that they’re much better off to just keep doing what they’ve already been doing–because that’s been working out just fine and she’d rather not introduce anything that could ruin it for them. She shouldn’t have brought it up. Even just the fact that she felt she needed to ease him into the conversation as softly as possible–by asking about the legitimacy of the email instead of diving into the meat of the matter–should have been enough to tell her that she was pushing it. She had known she was–but she bulldozed ahead with her excitement, anyways. And it had upset him. Hopefully not too much, since she felt she had taken some care with her approach, but yanno. He was clearly upset–and after going through such clear, careful measures to avoid this kinda thing, he kinda had a right to be. She needed to apologise.

By the time she got home, Raf had already put himself to bed–which worried Magritte somewhat. She never liked going to sleep without closure. But, she resolved to tell him her conclusions in the morning and hoped for an otherwise normal day.

And so, when the morning rolled around and she found Raf making coffee in the kitchen, she began with a “good morning”, an apology for not getting back home before he fell asleep, and then she simply unloaded the entire content of her thoughts and conclusions from the previous evening. She felt proud of herself for being able to reassess things with as much fairness and objectivity as she could manage, and she was confident in her choice to completely ignore the whole ‘email inquiry’ thing. More than that, she was beyond apologetic for even asking him to consider it, admitting to him that she realised it kinda put him between a rock and a hard place. She then suggested it’d be best just to assume the email was a scam anyways, “is that ok?”

Raf, who listened to her whole spiel without a single interruption, watched her for a silent moment with half-lidded disinterest (or was he just tired?) before replying with a flat, “mmhm.”

“Okay.” Magritte had been hoping for some assurance that her reasoning, her apology, and her resolution were…yanno…adequate or somthing. But, as Raf sipped his coffee with an unconversational, chilly demeanour, Magritte wasn’t feeling assured by any measure. And so, to find an emotional baseline, Magritte offered a mousey, but genuine little “I love you.” To which Raf replied with a slight twitch of a smirk and an avoiding gaze, “Yeah, I’ll bet you do.”

Immediately, Magritte felt as though she had been tossed whole-bodily off a cliff, and didn’t pursue the conversation further. Shut right up, and spent the rest of the morning very quiet and withdrawn. Too uncomfortable and ashamed to take up space in Raf’s apartment for very long, she headed out to find a quiet, isolated park bench or something to cry on lmao, ‘cuz whuff.

Raf, who had fully expected that his snipey reply would coerce Magritte to trade out the ‘timid sad mouse’ act for something a lot more angry and defensive, was largely unsure of what to do with a Magritte–that instead–seemed to have completely shut down. Before she left, while maintaining his defensive coldness, Raf bothered to measure her vitriol by way of asking Magritte if she needed a ride anywhere. As delicately and sweetly as she could–Magritte declined, telling him it was ok, not to worry about it. And that was really the only additional dialogue they had together that morning. She should have been mad at him. She went through all the trouble of explaining things, apologising, and capitulating to him–and he deliberately stonewalled her in an attempt to get her to unmask. He had called out her bluff; she wanted something from him, he refused to give it to her, she attempted to take the higher ground, putting him in the position where the kindly, good response would have been to capitulate in kind–at least by confirming that the email wasn’t a scam after all, and reopening that dialogue for a more ‘level-headed’ conversation. But he identified the manoeuvre and deliberately shut it down. And then–out of pure spite–he refused to provide her the simple reassurance that a half hearted ‘I love you, too’ might have provided. Because he had spent the entire night and the whole morning fretting, and questioning, and dreading everything–and being the source of it, she deserved to feel it, too. But then her response had been to … ???? ????????? She left, but she didn’t take anything with her, she didn’t pack her belongings or make a show of wanting to move out, none of that kind of thing. She didn’t tell him he was being unreasonable or unfair, or that he needed to think things over. She just sorta–disintegrated in front of him. Just completely wilted. Wtf did that even mean??? Was she trying to guilt him? What else was she going to do? Likely, she intended on just avoiding him until he was ready to apologise or something. Like–if he phoned her right now, she wouldn’t answer. Right? To test his “punishment by avoidance” theory, he called her number–only to hear her answer on the second ring. And–after he hesitated for a moment too long, she asked if he was okay–if there was anything she could get him while she was out. Not having planned to actually say anything, Raf grasped for something believable to ask, landing on “Do you have your keys with you? I’m going to be at my uncle’s so the door will be locked.” To which Magritte assured him that yes she’s got keys, no worries. Say hi to uncle Bill for her.

This kinda sent Raf’s thoughts scattering. She was upset, she was -clearly- upset, he gave her reason to be upset and then he gave her more reasons to be upset. She had spent the whole morning looking downright miserable. She WAS upset, but she wasn’t…putting him through it. She wasn’t punishing him or reasoning with him or trying to position him. She wasn’t worried about him talking to his uncle, which means she hadn’t gone to him herself to get him on her side of this whole thing. What the fuck did she have on him? If she–worse case scenario–decided to get back at him by getting in contact with his mother, then she’d have to–

“Oh. I’m being crazy.” It was almost like a record skip. Any time ‘his mother’ popped up as part of a ‘logical course of action’ in what ever the fuck he was freaking out about, it served as a blaring alarm signaling that he had left grounded reality behind. No matter how much fucking sense it made to him, or no matter how careful his thoughts were in framing it as ‘unlikely’ or ‘worst case scenario’, any, ANY consideration of ‘his mother’ as a thing that could happen to him was a signpost that he had left the realm of reasonability. He made it a deliberate rule that the moment she popped up in his brain, he needed to assume he was thinking irrationally–until he could get a second opinion (and maybe a third, if he didn’t like the second). At least in this way, ‘his mother’ served as a helpful guiding figure in his life. Christ. Alright, alright. At what point did he fall off the rails, though? Magritte DID come to him about a…fucking A&R inquiry of all things. That was real, that happened. She got upset that he wouldn’t entertain it. That was also real, that also happened. How was he supposed to take that? She knew, she knew–it was something he would not do. He had told her, he had told her more than once–he was so clear about it. The rest made no sense to him, if his assumptions from that point forward were in fact…ungrounded.

And so, while he hadn’t actually planned to visit his uncle that day, Raf showed up at his door anyway. Sat down with him, and walked him through the events; the actual, physically observable things that happened, and the things that were said out loud. And Uncle Bill kinda made the “yikes” face, because…yikes.

So, uncle Bill attempted to recount from his perspective; Magritte pushed a boundary, no question. But–the assumption regarding why she did that needed to be challenged. Was it something she had been actively planning for and waiting on? Did she manipulate Raf into feeling safe enough to shed his boundaries? Did she use Raf as bait to reel in offers and interests she wouldn’t have been able to get otherwise? Well…What do we know about Magritte? We know that she’s excitable, impulsive, she projects and assumes the best case scenarios and constantly counts her chickens before they hatch. She can’t keep a secret to save her life. She wears her emotions on her sleeve, which makes her a terrible liar... Bill recites that, according to Raf, Magritte cited excitement, impulsiveness, and the thought of being able to make more music with the added benefit of financial security as her reason for bringing the email to him in the first place. She liked the idea of being able to help pay his rent, she wanted money to buy him gifts the same way he had bought gifts for her. Bill suggested that, if they were to read her motivations in a manner consistent with what they know and have seen about Magritte as a person, the future she was projecting on this inquiry email didn’t exclude him as a beneficiary, he was very much included in her happy little fantasy as someone she wanted to share the experience with. Magritte’s excitement had given her this same kind of tunnel vision before, preventing her from seeing other perspectives or outcomes of a captivating situation. And–they’ve seen that go both ways for her. It’s worked out before, but more often, it really doesn’t, and the fallout usually hurts her more than it hurts anyone else.

So–what’s more possible? That Raf has now found himself in the splash zone of this kind of…hypomanic/giddy impulsive behaviour they’ve seen from Magritte a few times already? Or is Magritte finally showing a more selfishly machiavellian side of herself that she was so good at hiding, it was barely comprehensible? “Okay, but…” Raf asks if his uncle had any explanation for why Magritte, despite being obviously upset, was putting an effort to act as though he wasn’t the reason for it? To which Bill was like, “well, have you asked her?” before, maybe a bit foolishly, offering up his best guess of “She already told you she knew she was in the wrong. She apologised. You didn’t accept her apology. My guess? She’s just gonna do what you want her to do. Stop making music with you? End the relationship? Get her to move out? I don’t recommend testing it unless it’s what you actually want.” Bill offered his honest opinion to Raf, that Magritte’s a good one. A very good one. And Raf needs to talk to her–about all of this. They’re both good kids, they’ll figure it out.

When Raf returned home, the door was unlocked and Magritte’s shoes were on the boot rack. He didn’t see her in the kitchen nor the living room, and so knocked on her bedroom door, asking her to sit with him on the couch when she had a moment to do so.

He had barely sat down before he heard the door to Magritte’s room creak open. Soon after, she sat curled into herself on the opposite end of the couch from him, eyes and nose peeking out from behind her knees. Small.

There was a moment of silence between them before Raf asked, “Honestly, now; are you pissed off at me?”

Magritte answered, “No, but you are, at me.”

He elected to make no platitudes about it, “I was. I’m trying not to be. What are you expecting me to say?” To which Magritte replied, muffled into her knees, “I don’t know…don’t make me answer that. I don’t know.”

And so Raf asks instead, “What are you hoping for?”

“I don’t know, I love you. You don’t even gotta love me back but I wanna play music with you and I want us to keep having fun together and I want to delete the whole past twenty-four hours from my brain. That’s all.” And, while Raf paused to weigh that in his mind, Magritte hesitantly added, “I think there’s something wrong with me.” “With you?” Raf was taken a bit aback by this.

Magritte continued, “How does anyone get so excited and eager about something that it ruins everything? It didn’t even exist, it wasn’t real, there was no deal. They could have come back with an offer that was like ‘we want all ur music for zero monies’, ‘we want full, exclusive rights to your name, likeness, and social security number’, ‘we will provide you a $2 advance in exchange for your first born child’. Like–it could have been total garbage–I don’t know, it didn’t exist. But in my mind, it did exist, it was gonna be great, and–we were gonna be able to make so much music together, just like we are already, but without any of the stress. That wasn’t real, either. There’d have been so much more stress.” As she sunk further into herself, she concluded, “This is real. This sucks. I put us here.”

At this, Raf couldn’t help but let a genuine laugh escape through his nose as a little snort. “Actually…This isn’t so bad.” It wasn’t meant to be an insensitive snort, the irony had simply struck him. While Magritte had been carried away by dream situations, Raf had been consumed by nightmare scenarios. For him, the reality of sitting on the couch with Magritte, trying to come to grips with the fact that she hadn’t been trying to manipulate him like a tool, that she had been operating on the pure puppy-like head-empty jovial excitement that he was usually so fond and protective of–was a huge upgrade from the situation he had been imagining in his head. For Magritte, sitting on the couch with him, trying to come to grips with the fact that she may have negatively impacted a relationship and living situation that she had enjoyed dearly–was most certainly a gut-wrenching downgrade from the rosy “make music, get money, laugh and play” dream she had been imagining in her head. Raf had to be honest with her; he was still entirely firm on his stance of no contracts, no labels…and now–probably no live shows nor online media posts featuring him in any capacity. At least, not for a while. It would be too much of a raw nerve for him, and not something he wanted to stress over. They could still jam, and record–for themselves, privately. And sincerely, this was all it took for Magritte to uncurl her knees from under her chin, and perk up with hopeful gratitude. That she didn’t look as though she were being punished by Raf’s backsliding into old restrictions, and instead appeared genuinely surprised and happy that they could still just make music together–convinced Raf that Uncle Bill’s assessment had been, as usual, spot on. Magritte was a good one. A very good one.

He couldn’t stop himself from asking though, “If I said no more music, full stop–?” “Could I still play music?” “Well–yeah.”

“Would you let me make you listen to it??”

“I like your music, Magritte–”

Her big, happy grin said plenty, before it dissolved into big, blobby tears and wet sniffles.

She admitted that she was so scared he was gonna tell her the whole thing was over, but he didn’t and she’s so relieved, and she loves him so much and she’s so sorry.

Struck a bit numb by the notion that ‘ah, I’ve been a complete asshole’, Raf pulled her into a big ol’ hug, buried his face into her hair, and apologised in kind for his deliberate callousness in the morning–and more than that, for allowing his fear and suspicion convince him in the first place that she was something she wasn’t. It wasn’t right of him, it wasn’t fair to her, and this whole situation could have been resolved over breakfast if he had just…believed what she was saying at face value. Or at least he could have tried not to be a dick about it until he talked it over with his uncle. He couldn’t promise that he’d never fuck up like this again, just like she couldn’t promise that she wouldn’t get carried away either–but he promised to always return her statements of affection, especially in moments when he’s mired in panic and suspicion… to serve as a reminder to himself as much as to reassure her.

Because, in truth–though he’d never saddle her with the knowledge of this–she’s the closest he’s ever felt (outside of guilt-motivated blood relatives) to believing that someone could afford him genuinely unconditional love. A great deal of his fear is rooted in the understanding that–if she was proven to be playing him, there was absolutely no hope–zero chance that he’d ever be able to convince himself that he could just be–loved like a normal human being.And that’s not a state of mind he thinks he could confidently survive. For Magritte’s part, any music or career-related thing that requires his involvement–she just doesn’t entertain unless he’s the one bringing it to her. Raf has never stopped her from pursuing music in a professional capacity where it didn’t involve him–in fact, he has always been extremely eager and supportive from the side-lines. She is literally, without any question, his favourite musical artist. Most of her equipment these days is bought and paid for by him, any opportunity he can find for her, he brings to her–and he is only able to comfortably, confidently do so because she never asks or expects it of him.

Her favorite music is the music she makes with him, and eventually…eventually…they do end up performing shows together again (along with Cortes). But their music is theirs first and foremost. For themselves, before anything else. And it is a gift more precious to her than anything.

#Cortes #long post #LOONG post lmao sry #Hi-Note #rafael #magritte

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sellenite · 6 months

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PSA EVERYONE:

I decided to rewrite chapter 2 of the cherry blossoms/virgin!Choso series for the millionth time 😭

so, if you read the original chapter 2 and are confused as to why chapter 3 is so similar, I am so sorry 🫶 I will explain my thinking + what I changed here

I felt that I got too ahead of myself on the original chapter 2 that I posted; I got really excited to upload a second part and I rushed into it too much. when I went back and reread it, I kept wishing that it was more of a slow-burn because that just felt more accurate to Choso's character to me. I felt that the original pieces were lacking that characterization I wanted to express, and I wanted to fix that

SO, what I ended up doing was (sort of) splitting the original chapter 2 into the current chapter 2 and chapter 3:

new chapter 2: Choso and reader have a fun little make-out sesh that eases the two of you into the whole scene before he's just like actually down your throat 💀 it's on the fluffier side but I feel like it makes the whole story flow a lot better instead of Choso getting his first bj before a kiss like what was I thinking

chapter 3: gets right down to business; much smuttier than ch. 2 and has the same concepts as what I had written in the original ch. 2 (I am so sorry if this confusing to follow) but I expanded on all of the ideas a lot more so there is still a lot of fresh content

I hope that this makes sense lol - but basically I just took my original chapter 2 (if you were one of the lovely people who read it) and added a lot more plot between the start and finish <3

I am so sorry for my haste in uploading, but I promise I will be better in the future <3 thank you all for bearing with me and for all of your sweet comments and likes. I am having so much fun writing these little stories and it makes me so happy to see you guys enjoying them as well! I just want to write stuff that I feel is deserving of the characters I write for and for all of you kind people who read it 🥹🫶

#I am so sorry if you have already noticed me edit this story like 500 times a day #perfectionism issues lol #virgin choso #choso smut

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notyour-valentine · 9 months

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A Fair Exchange XXXIV ~ Aemond Targaryen x Reader/OC (Angst)

[Navigation] [Moonboard Masterlist] [House of the Dragon Masterlist]

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Notes: So in my absence, tumblr decided to eat this part while it was in the queue, so here it is. I will upload XXXV again after this to avoid confusion. My apologies.

Summary: They have to find a way out

Warning: bullying, blood, mention and threat of violence and death, mutilation, mention of torture and death, childbirth, injury, misogyny. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

[Series Masterlist]

Previously

Part XXXIV

It didn't help to see that she was exhausted; his own arms, hands and back were sore as well, but they weren’t out of danger just yet.

At this point, they were safest if no one could find them.

Thanks to her little ploy of shortening the rope, it had come down with them and at least made it impossible for any pursuers to know where and how they had left the palace but that didn't mean they couldn't suspect it.

And Sunspear was small.

It was obvious to Aemond, they had to get away from the area around the palace and the city itself as quickly as possible.

"Perhaps you three should seek refuge in a sept while I find a way.", He suggested. There were twelve he had read about, but there were bound to be more.

Once they were inside the seven-blessed walls, no good servant of the Faith could harm them.

"I'm not being stuck anywhere.", She argued. "We have to keep moving."

Aemond couldn't help but agree with the sentiment but it was one thing for a man to move amongst a city after dark alone, maybe even the two of them, although it was never a good idea for a woman to walk past nightfall, but they still had Luke and Jaehaera to worry about.

Carrying them would cost both time and energy, things they were already painfully low on.

She glanced up at the cloudless sky.

"That way if we want to head North out of the city.", She stated after a while, pointing towards a street that led away, but without too much enthusiasm.

They couldn't walk to King's Landing, and even if they were let, they’d starve or die of thirst long before they reached the Stormlands.

"They'll expect us to go north.", He whispered.

"Well yes.", She argued. "It's the only way to go."

If you go by foot or horse or carriage, Aemond thought, before turning his attention elsewhere.

"Planky Town is a few hours' sharp ride south. Unlike the Sunspear harbour it's less guarded, and-"

His eyes caught a spark.

"Has all the trading ships from the free cities."

Whatever the Dornish or the Martells or just a fraction of them had been plotting, their schemes were unlikely to extend beyond the Narrow Sea.

They could buy passage there, or at least gather news. It was a safer bet than the harbour of Sunspear, which was far stricter controlled.

And when it came down to it, there were bound to be more Valyrian descendents to blend in.

"Don't delude yourself, Aemond. Jaehaera and your silver hair isn't the problem.”, she scoffed. “Our eyes are or you know…the lack thereof.”

His jaw clenched.

"A silverhaired child, and two one-eyed adults. The only person with any chance to blend in is Luke."

A flash of concern washed over her face. She hadn’t stopped trying to wake him periodically, and had checked his breathing as often as she could, but it was to no avail.

Jaehaera and Luke were fast asleep.

Aemond wanted to argue, lots of sailors had eye injuries, and if it came down to it, he'd shave his hair, though he didn’t like the idea of parting with his sapphire and eyepatch. It would be…unseemly and undignified.

And it would hurt to remove it.

When it came to her, she could remove her dragon eye with more ease. But with or without it, he doubted there were many other one-eyed women in the Seven Kingdoms, or anywhere.

If anyone was going to be the problem it would be her!

She seemed to consider that for half an eternity, too long for Aemond’s peace of mind.

“Planky Town.”, she sighed, a line of concern on her forehead. “And horse riding - we don’t even have horses. Where are we supposed to get them?”

“It can’t be worse than climbing the wall.”, he argued. “And horses we can find.”

There were barracks not too far away, and a few traders he had seen on their way to the castle that sold the animals, so there would be opportunities to get some, even if it wouldn't be the most ethical way.

“There’s rocks on Dragonstone, and not that many horses.”, she argued, but then the fight left her, to reveal a confession.

“I’m not good on horseback, Aemond.”

It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. It was their only chance of leaving Sunspear and reaching Planky Town at any sort of speed. If they walked, they wouldn’t make it before daylight, and then the sun of Dorne itself would become their enemy.

“I’d prefer my dragon too, but we have to take what we can and make do with what we’ve got.”

Her nod was a single, disgruntled not, but it was a approval.

To his surprise, it wasn’t too difficult to find the barracks. Due to the Rhoynish expansion they had been moved to the outside of the inner castle, as he had suspected, but he hadn’t thought he would find it so quickly.

Then again, they had to have the horses close to the castle but it was preferable to have the stables’ stench nowhere near the more illustrious apartments.

As they had left the palace over the side of the servants’ quarters, it wasn’t that far.

The stables were a longer building than its King’s Landing counterpart, recognisable by the smell of the animals and the style of architecture Aemond remembered from a book. The Rhoynish kept for horses, but the Dornish had to create structures to hold the animals in comparable cool surroundings against the heat.

And like all things belonging to the palace, it was guarded by a few watchmen gathered at the front of the stables.

Aemond could see their shadows moving in the light of the moon, and the few torches kept inside to illuminate the stone structure.

They would find horses there but trouble was just as likely.

Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea after all.

“Aemond,”she said in a whisper, a glint in her eye. “How good are you with horses?”

“What do you mean?”, he whispered.

They were huddled together in an alleyway, having left Jaehaera and Luke in the shadow of a sept, behind a bench, hidden in the darkness.

They had argued about that, with him insisting she stay behind and watch over them, while he went about it on his own. Leaving them hadn’t come easy to her, but simultaneously she thought it better if they moved and worked together to save time.

He had been arguing against it when she had just begun walking away from him, taking any decision in her own hands.

It left him irritated, but they had no time to argue.

“Would you be able to catch and calm them if they were distressed?”

“I suppose so, but there is no need to catch them. They are right there.”

She turned to meet his gaze.

“Yes, and if we want them, we have to sneak past the guards inside, get horses out and they will find it in the count come sunlight at the latest. that sounds…unlikely."

“Well by sunlight they will know we are missing too.”

The horses wouldn’t be the problem.

“But they wouldn’t know the horses are missing if they have no horses to count.”

He could sense that there was a concrete idea forming in her mind, one she was certain of.

“If there are horses, there is hay. And while we don’t have dragons, we do have fire.”

His head snapped over to the windows from which one could see the flickering glimmer of red and gold.

If they were to set the stables on fire the guards would rush to get all the horses out and quench the fire. The frightened beasts would run in all directions, and if he managed to catch and calm just two, they would be long gone before the others were brought back.

Sometimes it took even days.

But while the windows were there, they were up high and narrow.

Maybe one could fit through them, but one had to get up there first.

“Right-”, she said, inhaling sharply, her gaze firmly locked on the stables in front of her. “You’ll need to get me up.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s too far up for any one of us to reach it on our own. You’ll need to help me get up there.”

Aemond felt the muscles at the back of his neck tense in protest.

“And then what?”, he hissed.

“And then I’ll set it on fire.”

“And yourself with it? How will you get out again?”

She shrugged.

“I’ll find something in there to boost me.”

“What if you don’t?”Aemond asked.

“Then I’ll find another way. But unless you have a better idea, it’ll have to be that, won’t it?”

Aemond wished, and maybe even prayed for an epiphany but none came.

Yes, he could get her up there, but then she would be on her own, with only luck to help her.

And to Aemond, it was too risky.

“Let’s just look somewhere else - if we don’t find something, we can still try.”

He reached for her arm and pulled her with him, deaf to her protest.

Sunspear’s unique city structure had been something he seemed worth studying and so now he had a rough idea of where to find the marketplace, where the merchants lived, and where those merchants lived who may or may not be wealthy enough for horses.

There was no curfew in Sunspear, but most nocturnal activity had been concentrated on the taverns and inns, and other more unseemly places, away from the sept they had placed Jaeheara and Luke close to.

Still, every second they were away from her, they couldn’t protect her.

The urgency made him quicken his pace, though they could not run because that would draw too much suspicion from the passer byers.

Instead, they rushed huddled together. He had drawn his cloak deep into his face while she was similar, keeping her gaze down.

They saw traders, merchants, whores, and a few errant children, but the further away from the busy marketplaces they got, the more it quieted down.

The people who lived here had enough money to make sure their streets were quiet and clean, and also enough to fund the upkeep and space for horses.

Just like in the palace, they kept their horses in the proximity but also far enough to avoid the smell.

Without much debate, they settled on a large house with blue tiled decorations on its facade. It was walled and guarded but the three guards they had were focussed on the street-facing manor, and not the mews that led further back.

This, Aemond deemed a far safer option.

The stable door was locked, but like at the palace stables, there were windows for air and light.

“That door may also open from the inside.”, he suggested. At least that was what he hoped. There was no way they could break the lock without waking all of eastern Dorne.

“Now we just need to find something to aid us in reaching the window.”, he mumbled, searching around for a barrel or a box.

“You.”, she said, reaching for his arm and pulling him to stand under the window.

“What?”

“You - if you help me, I can climb in.”

It was a way, but not one Aemond would have preferred as it once again meant sending her into the unknown. But she was smaller, and she was lighter, and while he could help her up, she wouldn’t be able to do the same for him.

“A-alright, how…-”, he crouched down and attempted to wrap his arms around her legs just below her knees in an attempt to lift her.

“What are you doing?”, she hissed, stepping away.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way for me to lift you without…”

He made a vague gesture towards their now forced proximity.

“I understand this is uncomfortable for you, but we have to do what we must.”

She shook her head.

“Just give my leg a little boost.”, she asked, clearly expecting him to do something specific he was not privy to.

“How…?”

She stared at him with utter disbelief. “Like you would help me on a horse without stirrups.”

Aemond bit back the question of why ever a lady would ride a horse without stirrups, and a horse without stirrups meant a horse without a saddle, specifically side saddle.

It dawned on him that they must have lived close to savages on Dragonstone if she rode horses in any other way but side saddle.

“Just…just bend your knees a little.”; she sighed.

He did, although he nearly fell when she began to climb, treating him as if he was just another wall to scale.

While grabbing his shoulder, she stepped onto his thigh.

Aemond reached up to help steady her, and was glad for the darkness to hide his blush as he released her next step would be to brace her leg on his shoulder.

Closing his eye would be the barest appropriate thing to do at the sight of this, though necessary, debauchery.

But then he wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing and wouldn’t know how to help her, how to steady her, and in the end, how to stabilise her as she pulled herself into the window.

And then, there was only the absence of her weight, and the deafening silence in the wake of his new found solitude.

Every second felt like an hour to him now, as even the Dornish skies itself came crashing down on him.

He just hoped she would hurry up as he listened desperately for any noise.

There were sounds, light clanking and shifting, but it had nothing to do with horses, or doors.

Then finally, after half an eternity, he heard the soft screech of the hinges.

As soon as it was opened a hand width, he pushed himself inside.

“What took you so long?”, he demanded to know, barely containing his anger at her dalliance.

Anything could have happened to her, to him, and to Jaehaera.

“I found something better than your fruit knife.”, she announced, holding up a small workman’s knife.

It was a little crooked and the hilt well worn, but it was longer, and sturdier.

Immediately, he reached for it, but she pulled back.

“I found it, it’s mine.”

“Well I know how to use it!”

She glared at him.

“Want to test if I don’t?”, she snarled. “Or do you want to take a look at the horses so we can leave?”

There were four horses there. They weren’t war or tourney horses and one looked more suitable to carry cargo, but they were horses, and they couldn’t be picky.

Aemond checked at the best of his ability, searched for reigns and opted for a brown and a black horse. The white one was pretty, but she could be seen in the dark.

In the meantime she had searched around for more suitable items, gathering them in a bag she seemed to have no qualms about stealing.

Each of them led two horses out and left the door open. Two animals they would release somewhere, the other two they would take. It slowed them a little, but it may work as a at least temporary distraction.

Just when he saw the blue tiles once more, he felt a pang of guilt.

The merchant had not done them any wrong and now they were stealing his beasts.

He had half a thought of maybe leaving some of her jewels behind as payment but that would make it certain it was them that stole the horses.

By the time they got close to the sept, they had released the horses, and had chosen to walk separately, as not to draw too much attention.

He led the way and as soon as he was in the shadow of the sept, he tied the horse to the tree and rushed to where they had hidden the other two.

Both were still as sound asleep as if they were laying on a featherbed and not the cold stone floor.

He was glad they were safe, but Luke’s obliviousness was irritating.

Once more the boy didn’t realise just how lucky he was.

A hand on Jaehaera’s chest he glanced over his shoulder.

There was still no sign of her.

What in Seven Hells was she doing now?

This was the problem with her - not listening and always going after her own instinct and will.

They had decided to meet here and so Aemond ought to wait, but something told him he had to see, and had to retrace his steps.

As soon as the spark of nerves caught, it turned into a wildfire within moments.

He couldn’t - wouldn’t do this without her.

She had never liked horses.

She didn’t mind them, but she never liked them.

When the others had learned as children, she had been too sickly, and later she had only done it from time to time as a kindness to Rhaena.

That was the only reason she ever found herself on horseback when dragonback would do.

It wasn’t that she avoided the animals per se, but she had no use and no favour for them. And now her life would possibly depend on it.

If this had been by any choice but her own and Aemonds, she would have thought this a thinly veiled insult.

Aemond was leading the way in quiet confidence.

This was no challenge to him. Undoubtedly he had trained for tourneys and battle rides, probably with Ser Criston Cole.

Perhaps, if she was lucky he would be dead by now. If he hadn’t drowned in the sea.

The thought of him slowly succumbing to a burning fever, as his blood turned to poisonous fire inside him, was a comforting thought.

He didn’t deserve a painless death. Not after what he had done to Rhaena, and what he would have done to Aegon and Viserys.

The memory of the taste of his blood and his flesh in her mouth made her gag, but with nausea a sense of pride rose inside her.

He had attacked her family, and she had defended it. If that was no reason for pride, what was?

She had been so lost in thought she nearly missed the sound of the whistle coming from the alleyway, but she stopped and turned to look.

A man approached, with a little lamp and an unmistakable sense of authority.

She saw a dagger, a knife, but no spear, no armour.

“Who goes there?”, he demanded to know.

“Who’s asking?”, she mumbled, keeping her gaze downward.

“I have a right to know who walks these streets.”, he snarled.

Her heart was thundering in her chest, as she tried to think, to appear not as she was, but as someone who was unafraid, someone who had done no wrong, and in a way she hadn’t. In the laws of the world, it wasn’t wrong to defend and protect one’s family and that law was above any Dornish one.

“You will look at me when I speak to you, boy!”, he snarled. “I wish to know who your master is to think he has you walking the streets at night with a horse with uncovered hooves.”

It took her a few seconds to realise what he was saying.

He didn’t think her a scoundrel, but an apprentice boy or a servant, simply obeying orders.

And he was no guard, just a neighbour, with too little problems in his life and so he created them on his own.

“Why do you care? Go back to bed old man.”, she sneered, still not looking at him.

“I’ll call the city watch on you, boy, and your master!”, he threatened, huffing and puffing on his insult.

When he grabbed her arm, it was all over. She tore at his grip, but when he didn’t release. She drew the knife.

And slashed.

The man looked as shocked as she was, as he saw blood pouring down his arm.

“You- I’ll make you lose your hand for that!”, he snarled, before taking a deep breath to call for guards or scream for help -

But whatever he intended on doing, no noise left his throat but a gurgle as blood sprayed.

She stared as she watched the red rain fall, black in the night.

The man’s eyes had gone wide and frantic, and empty.

By the time he was released and dropped into a puddle of his own blood, there was no life remaining in them.

The horse began to stumble to the side, neighing frantically.

She could only watch in disbelief more than shock, as Aemond stepped forward, calming the animal with practised touches.

Aemond.

Yes, of course. It couldn’t have been anyone but Aemond.

“Take the horse back to the sept. Jaehaera and Luke are fine. I’ll be there in a moment.”, he ordered once the animal was calm enough.

“But-”

“Go!”, he ordered, and for once she didn’t argue, or question, or doubt, she obeyed.

Aemond only breathed again when he saw her make the turn towards the sept.

When he glanced down he saw the wet stains of blood on his hands. Then he reached into his belt and pulled forth the fruit knife. Tip to hilt it was coated in blood.

The blade was so short, he had felt the man’s neck on his thumb as he drew it across with force.

There was no other way with a tool like this - and he had to.

If he had screamed or called or drawn any more attention to himself and others, it would have all been lost.

They would have been lost.

His hand trembled as he wiped the blade clean on his cloak.

But it wouldn’t be clean now, would it? Just like his hand wouldn’t, even if he consulted the finest soapmakers of King’s Landing.

It was a fruit knife, a stupid little thing created for the carving of apples and the slicing of oranges, not the cutting of throats. But now here it was.

He had had no time to think, just to do. And so he had.

Aemond sniffed. He knew he had to hurry, but he had to look too.

The man had stood with his back towards him, and he did not see his face.

A part of him thought this may be a blessing, that he should leave it at that and go - to get back to her and Jaehaera and Luke and get them out to safety as quickly as he could, while praying he wouldn’t have to kill them again.

But the thought made him feel like a coward, and so he knelt down beside the man and pulled him over.

His face was coated in blood, from his throat, and the puddle he had fallen into.

His hair was black like most Dornish, and fell down to his shoulders, but his eyes had almost a hazel colouring.

Beyond that, he looked perfectly ordinary, like a man he would have passed in King’s Landing a hundred times.

He was of middle age, with the clothes and belly that promised a comfortable life. Beside him lay a small lamp, gone out due to his fall.

Aemond did not know if he was a merchant, a tradesman, a salesman, a teacher maybe. He did not know his name, or if a widow or orphans would mourn his loss.

He knew none of these things and doubted he would ever find out.

But when he looked at the man’s face he was certain of one thing - that it would be burned into his memory for all eternity.

Sometimes the men had talked of it, the soldiers, the knights. They all liked to share their glorious stories, their triumphs, their tales. And on one thing, they all agreed. No matter what comes after, no matter how much or how many, above all things, you will never forget your first.

Later, when they had managed to sneak out the city gates and make for Planky Town, he recalled the lessons he had had in his youth, then when he had feared he may never have a dragon to ride and instead focussed his studies on horses and tourney riding.

They were all certain the horses could somehow sense the rider’s state, if they were afraid, or confident, but also if they were a good person, a trustworthy person.

Aemond couldn’t help but wonder if this dark brown horse he had stolen from an unsuspecting merchant, could tell he was now carrying a killer across the Dornish plains.

Since this series has continued on AO3 I will now upload a part a day to catch up. I hope you enjoy, and once again I apologise for technical problems and my absence from here.

House of the Dragon Taglist

@crazylokonugget @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @rapoficeandfire @sabii5 @itsdanajane16 @cynic-spirit @dark-night-sky-99 @madislayyy @lightdragonrayne @severewobblerlightdragon

#valentineswritings #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen / reader #aemond targaryen / oc #aemond targaryen & reader #aemond targaryen & oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #asoiaf #fire and blood #the rogue prince #the princess and the queen #a fair exchange

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sparki3 · 3 months

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Hey yall, so I love to write stories and stuff in my spare time, but I don't like to share cause I hate the idea of people reading my works. But today I decided to get over that and post a little story.

I love the cod games and community and i loved the series Grisellda so I thought why not put the two together? It's an oc x mw era but I might change it to a reader? Who knows first I gotta upload this lol. Uh anyways here's the prolouge, a little taste if you will, I hope you enjoy and criticism is appreciated but hate isn't... thanks!

CHAPTER 1:

El Serpiente

How was this name bestowed on me? To be completely honest I don’t even remember… maybe it was because I strangled my own father to death and took over his business… or maybe it’s because people think I’m cold blooded… either way it doesn’t really matter…

All that matters is that El Serpiente runs the streets of Las Almas now. El Serpiente strikes fear into people more than El Sin Nombre ever did.

Sure, ruling over the small town of Oro was fun and games, but it was pathetic compared to the City of Souls.

Ever since my partner in the drug syndicate, Valeria, got her ass thrown in prison and allowed those Shadow Company fucks to murder half of Las Almas, I was asked to step in.

And let me tell you, business has been booming! No one important enough knows I took over. No one to get in my way.

I helped Valeria escape prison, now she owes me a favour. I hold it over her all the damn time, can she kill me? Sure, but she knows I’m too much of an asset to get rid of.

Currently I’m sitting in her old head office smoking on a cigarette, allowing the tobacco filled product to ease my nerves… I glance to the city, my city. The thought allows a grin to spread on my face, I chuckle lowly before glancing to my laptop as it displays the news of Vladimir Makarov escaping.

Exhaling the smoke, my grin softens into a smirk as I pull out a notebook writing all the ways to smuggle more drugs into America… like Valeria once greatly said, “If there’s a war on terrorism there will be no real war on drugs,”. Sure, it’s considered fucked up to use terrorist attacks as a form to make more money but hey, my morals were thrown out the window a long time ago.

I inhale the last bit of smoke before putting out the cigarette, closing my laptop in the process. My gaze flicks to all over my new office, I sigh with satisfaction before my gaze settles on my phone. I pick it up, scrolling through messages from my employees, I shake my head standing up grabbing my coat and wrapping it around my body.

I walk out my office looking to my bodyguards, I nod to them. “Eres libre de irte chicos,”

In response the two nod saluting me and walking towards their lockers. I sigh, as much as I enjoy their loyalty, my employees do it strictly out of fear that I might kill them or their loved ones… I mean sure it’s true, but they must at least act like they enjoy working for me…

I head downstairs seeing my driver sitting in the lobby. Roberto always was by my side, even after I killed my father, he insisted on staying. His reasoning was that he worked for our family for longer than he could count, and honestly, I’m glad he’s stayed… I like to think of him as my adviser rather than a driver.

I cleared my throat, and he glances up smiling at the sight of me, “Ready Señora Serpiente?” I scowl playfully at him before nodding. “You know I prefer just Serpiente… it doesn’t give away much about me. In fact, it makes people think I’m an actual snake which makes my life a helluva lot easier.”

Roberto simply laughs, his smile lines deepening reminding me of how old he truly is, “Ay you can never beat the gentleman out of me,” I scoff as he guides me to the Volkswagen Polo, I insisted on getting since it raises less of a suspicion then a Black Sudan or a Limo.

“What kind of gentleman works for a cartel?” I ask as he opens the back door for me, I nod and get in.

“Well, me apparently.” He smiles softly slipping into the driver’s seat, I chuckle softly. The car ignites to life, and I sit back and relax a bit. I stare out the window as we drive the streets of Las Almas, my eyes scan over some streets and graffiti artworks. I look back to Roberto, I frown as I notice his hair is greyer than I remember, and his eyes look sunken in.

I turn my attention back to outside… I can’t risk getting worried over an employee… could be easily used against me. My brows furrow as I think about all the times I fucked up and allowed someone to get close to me only for them to just die. Innocent lives being taken always left a bad taste in my mouth, its why I don’t kill someone unless they really deserve it. I swallow some saliva desperate for another cigarette…

To take my mind off the craving I dig into my coat pocket pulling out my phone and looking at the new message from Valeria.

Encuéntrame ahora.

I frown… why on Earth does she want to meet up at this hour?

“Roberto... change of course, we’re heading to Valeria’s safe house.

He simply nods before making a turn, I sit up straight touching my holster making sure my gun is still there, I pull it out checking the bullets and chamber, once satisfied I put the safety on before tucking it back in its holster.

After a few minutes we pull up to a dodgy street, I leave the car nodding to Roberto, “Beunas noches Roberto,” with that he leaves and I walk to the door of a small building, pounding on the door twice then a pause and then another knock… time to see what’s up with my city.

#cod modern warfare #modern warfare #phillip graves #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas #valeria garza #oc #vladimir makarov

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lemonboi390 · 10 months

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The End is Never the End

Chapter 1: Don't Do It

Stanley Suddenly Falls ill, and the following events shake both the narrator and Stanley's fabric of reality. Nothing is what it seems now.

A/N: This is one of my first ever fanfictions, and it was inspired by a role play so I apologize if the quality is lacking in any way. I'll be posting sporadically as inspiration comes at random. Chapters will be uploaded to AO3 first. (Link on my blog) Sorry if there are any grammatical issues. Thank you for reading!

TW: Illness, Car Violence, Blacking Out, Canon Typical Bullying, Emotional Distress, Angst With A Happy Ending

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-All of his coworkers were gone, what could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had missed a memo,” The narrator’s voice rang out, making Stanley merely sigh in response.

Stanley stumbled into the meeting room, a dull ache pressuring his skull as he struggled to keep his heavy legs from failing on him. His motivation was simply not there today. He sauntered onwards, trying to keep his lingering discomfort in check. Stanley stopped in his tracks when he noticed the door to the meeting room seemed…distinctly different. It was metal and had “EXIT” in neon red letters bored at the top.

“As Stanley looked around the meeting room, he couldn’t find anyone at all! As he looked for his co-workers, he noticed a flashing light at the end of a door marked “EXIT”

Stanley hesitated; this was new. The narrator rarely included new content such as this. He held his hand over the handle, as a few coughs ripped through his throat, making him wince in response to the burning pain he felt. He zoned out for a few moments, staring at the neon red “EXIT” at the top. The dull ache at the back of his head strengthened as he strained his eyes. He snapped himself out of his trance, shaking his head. I may as well…

“Stanley put his hand on the handle, he opened the door and stepped outside-”

Stanley stepped out onto the street in front of him, it looked like a quiet neighborhood. He noticed a bright, blinding light heading toward him. He blinked, and-

“-And was immediately hit by a car” The narrator stated jovially.

Stanley gasped hoarsely as he opened his eyes, looking around at the familiar office as he realized it restarted. He took a few deep breaths and glared up at the ceiling, tears blurring his vision. Usually, he had a high tolerance for the narrator's shenanigans, even taking a small hint of humor in it, but today was simply not his day. He coughed a few more times with greater harshness, rubbing his neck in a soothing way to ease away the pain. What the hell?

Stanley fell back into his office chair, his body insurmountably heavy. He took a deep, uneven breath, and gestured weakly with his hand, searching his mind for words. He did not like talking, words were such a fickle thing for him. It always made him feel uncomfortable, the thought of someone hearing his voice, knowing what he was really thinking. It was an even greater struggle with the flickering light of the computer infecting his vision, making his already pounding headache worse. He leaned back in the chair, spinning it away to avoid the monitor's glare. He closed his eyes, trying to rub away the aching pressure in his skull. His hands were clammy against his skin as if he were running a fever.

Finally, he sighed languidly, “Look I…I feel under the weather today. I don’t want to do the story.” his voice was wavering, like he was about to cry.

There was a silence in the air for a few moments before he heard the narrator's voice mumbling, unsure if he was talking to himself or Stanley. “Under the weather…” The narrator began, “Under the weather indeed, perhaps Stanley just needed a break. Yes, a break is what you need” The narrator cleared his throat ceremonially, “Stanley, you should head back home and rest…” He sounded almost apologetic, and a quiet hung in the air once more.

Stanley's vision danced with orbs moving in and out of his point of view. When nothing more was said, he gradually forced himself out of his chair, grunting in discomfort as his legs shook from the strain of forcing himself up. He held onto the wall with one hand, and made his way down the hallways, grabbing onto the door frames for support as he entered from one hall to another. His mind was growing fainter and more distant.

He heard the remote sounds of paper shuffling, the narrator's voice growing further as he heard him mumbling to himself feverishly. “No…no that’s not right…but how…?”

He couldn’t care about what he was saying at this point, the only fixture of focus with which his mind could process was laying down somewhere. He did not know where he was, his brain too foggy to tell or even remember where on the map his house was supposed to be. He leaned against the cool wall, his breathing shaky as he slid to the floor. His mind felt like a ball of cotton, but he knew the one thing he needed.

“Help…?”

For a moment, Stanley could hear the narrator's frantic footsteps and his heavy breathing. The sounds drifted away as he started sliding out of consciousness.

“No, no, no Stanley! Don’t sleep! Don't you do it! Don’t-” The narrator's voice faded into darkness, and so did Stanley’s senses.

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Chapter 2: A Cruel Joke https://www.tumblr.com/lemonboi390/723245659991539712/the-end-is-never-the-end?source=share

#the stanley parable #sickfic #Fluff #angst with a happy ending #the narrator x stanley #plot #Mystery #car violence #anxiety attack #existential crisis #the bucket is a therapist ig #autophobia #humanized narrator #multiple part series #separation anxiety #fanfic #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #bucket

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shadowredfeline · 1 year

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Before I upload Luna Sapphire's Birthday drawing, I decided to show off some of the Recaps for 2022 when playing with my Switch. For Most played, I usually play Animal Crossing New Horizons, Pokemon Cafe Remix and Colors Live. Cause with Animal Crossing New Horizons, I usually like to play with friends or do some random tasks as well as for doing the Happy Home Paradise stuff if I have time to design a house. For Pokemon Cafe Remix, I play it a lot during lunch time and it's the only Free to Play Title I enjoy playing. Especially if I wanted to go to the Pokemon Cafe like if I want to visit Tokyo, Japan. And for Colors Live, I always like to draw since Colors Live is the app I use Besides Medibang Paint.

For 3+ Years of Play, not only I play the two I just said, but I do enjoy playing Mario Kart 8 Deluxe a lot. I usually like to do online races and even try out the new courses they got for the Booster Pass.

And for Games I played at Launch, I have played Puzzles and Dragons since it just look interesting compared to Puzzles and Dragons and the Mario version on the 3DS, then I got Kirby's Dream Buffet which I enjoyed the game a lot, even though my sister didn't like it much. But I would imagine having Shadow and Spot bring Lisa, Tory, Riya and Vanilla eating the sweets and strawberries after performing ballet together. Especially like if they're going to eat ice cream together. And for Sonic Frontiers, I have told you in the last post when I was sick with COVID, I do enjoy the game since the settings and music just puts me at ease. And for the favorites besides one of titles I told you guys. Not only I like the titles I told you guys, but I have favorites too. Since I do like Magical World 2 since it is my Guilty Pleasure. It's different when I usually play Kingdom Hearts all the time since 1, 2 and 3 were so good.

I have played NES and SNES a lot since that I played back in the past like if I have nothing else to do. Even like when playing some of the classic games I do enjoy, and since I got into the Nintendo 64 and Genesis, it be amazing for me to play when I have nothing else to do. And my sister does enjoy the Nintendo 64 as well since she does enjoy Mario Tennis. For Mario 3D World and Bowser's Fury, I am getting progress when going through 3D World and once I beat it, then I'll move onto Bowser's Fury and see if I can get through the game as well. For Puyo Puyo Champions, I love the game so much it's something I play if I have nothing else to do like every time I play Puyo Puyo, I always imagine Sonic and Puyo Puyo are both related. Some people said that's because they're both made by Sega, and some people also said like it is like we remember Dr. Robotnik's Mean Bean Machine. I remember it, my dad's remember it, they're both really good. For Smash Bros. Ultimate, I do sometimes enjoy playing online, but I do like to practice some matches when I want to enjoy some fun and enjoy adventure mode. That's why I was thinking of wanting Smash Bros to have an RPG game and collaborate it with Square Enix. And finally Miitopia cause this version is much better than the 3DS version since you get a Horse and customize a Player how you feel about the character, especially when you have some friends you know and care about that want to be in the story. And I also put like characters I know from Anime or cartoons or other video games as well.

Finally my Game Trends. I do like Racing and Multiplayer, but I do like to educate by drawing stuff and educate some imagination besides reading and math. And for Simulation, it sure likes to put me at ease when playing a good Simulation game like Animal Crossing, same when communicating as well. And for the Puzzle games, I do like to ease up my mind with some good puzzles. Especially if I want to solve any clues or cases.

And that's all I have to say for this Year's Recap for the Nintendo games. Hope we'll look forward to next year when Switch make these new titles in the future.

People I tagged @bryan360 @murumokirby360 @alexander1301 @rafacaz4lisam2k4

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andillwriteyouatragedy · 2 years

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a domestic post-canon fic framed as a 7+1 about seven tattoos ed got for his family, and one tattoo he got from his family!

this fic will have eight chapters, and i have made it part of a series so i can add more afterwards if i want!! i'll upload posts here on tumblr for each chapter for you, too (including a special and mostly-unnecessary post for chapter one)!!! i've decided to make this chaptered both for ease of formatting for this specific story, and so i can upload at my own pace (while giving myself the freedom to write/post/work on other fics between chapters)!! the entire story is already plotted out; now i just have to finish writing, editing, and posting it!!!

also, blanket warning: this fic deals with a few heavy topics!!! this includes references to past child abuse, coping with mental illness, trans characters discussing body image, discussions of feeling dehumanized, and canon-typical themes of violence and internal struggle. a lot is tackled in this fic!! there's sad things and happy things and all sorts of things!! but i just wanted to let you know: take care of yourselves!!

i have been working on this fic for a whiiiiiiile and i kept holding back bc i get afraid of what people will think of me!! but that literally doesn't matter!!!! we must create the art we want to create!!!!!!!

so, this is incredibly niche and very much exactly what i wanted to read!! it's a passion project!! i love this little story and i hope you love it too!! but remember - i am exploring the story i want to write and read!! you are responsible for your own reading experience!! this fic is for me and if it doesn't mesh with you, that's totally okay!! you don't have to read it!!

if you do want to read this, though, i'm so happy to be here with you!! we love normalizing trans characters and trans bodies doing human things!! and if you've read my fics before you KNOW how much i love a good baby fic!!

okay i'm sorry i talk so much!!!! if you read this whole thing you are sacred to me!!! and now!!! it's time to enjoy!!! domestic family fic!!!! baby time!!!!! piracy!!!!!! talking it through as a crew!!!!!!! i'm so excited!!!!!!!!!

read an everlasting summer on ao3!

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diaryofahealingbxtch · 2 years

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I find myself searching for evidence, wondering if there’s anything to validate my wishy washy feelings over my friends. They were my bridesmaids, they were there for my baby shower, they were at my graduation. I guess it was OUR graduation, but still. Now they all have their faults, and I have mine.

I can’t figure out if maybe my faults are the downfall to our friendships though. I know I’ve talked to my therapist about these conflicting thoughts. I know I’ve put forth a lot of efforts but I know I’ve also been distant as well. When I’m distant.. I hardly hear from them. When I put in efforts it never seems to end with us catching up again. A lot of empty words, “yeah we should go out again together.”

I try to remind myself that everyone is busy. I’m busy too, but in other ways. I work occasionally where they all have full time jobs. Being a mom is a full time job as well, maintaining the home as a wife (don’t get me wrong, trent does things as well.. but let’s be real, I’ve been picking up the slack around the home because I feel too guilty to nag the breadwinner about contributing to his home.. I know I know, he’d have to maintain a place even if he lived alone.. but then our place wouldn’t be to my standards.) I also find myself being anxious to see people. I keep fearing that my negative thoughts will ring true, that I’m annoying and a bother. That I take too much space up in the world. I found myself sharing less and less, and having to fight the urge to delete posts or stop updating people on things altogether.

I used to base my worth off likes. I’m chronically online, addicted to the internet. I’ve been working on hobbies so I’m not on my phone as much, so I began to challenge myself to read a book a week.. I’ve been using social media to track and share my accomplishments. I’ve outdone myself already, I’ve uploaded 8 books after announcing my personal goals on my Facebook. The post gained a decent amount of support, so I decided to keep the people updated. I found after the 4th or 5th book, my posts weren’t collecting the favoritism I relished in anymore. I felt discouraged sharing any new reads after that, considering making a final announcement that if you liked seeing my journey to follow me on a public instagram. I figured maybe I could make it their choice to see what I chose to read between photos of their family, memes & recipes. Being my friend on Facebook doesn’t necessarily mean you want to keep updated on my life for the little things too. I would know, I’ve unfollowed my fair share of people, only keeping them “friended” so I could lurk with ease. I decided to keep posting my reads to my page anyways. “You’re allowed to take up space. You are entitled to post what you want on your page. If they want to see it, they’ll interact. If they don’t care, they’ll scroll, and that’s okay.”

Well, my friends have not really interacted with my book posts. I try to remind myself, maybe they’re just not on Facebook all the time. But then the thoughts creep back in.. “She keeps sharing things and tagging people, why hasn’t she shared anything and tagged me? I thought we were good friends.. Sherri stop!! You know she cares about you too.. she’s been friends with that other person for literal decades. That’s her mom. That’s her boyfriend. You’re important too, don’t take it personally.” I have to constantly fight my inner thoughts, I always used to say, “I have two voices in my head, the one who won’t shut up, and the one who’s telling it to shut up.” Honestly as for my friend’s posts, it goes back to one of my recent entries about people not truly knowing me. Getting stuck with never being remembered over dumb things because I don’t have many dumb things that are memorable. That’s why I’ve been trying to find hobbies too, in hopes that’ll give people some substance to be thoughtful. But yeah, they don’t seem to be vibing with the book stuff. I’ve always found myself pretty different from my friends, yet having so much in common in other areas. Maybe that’s just my own insecurities though, I’ve always felt a little alien at times compared to other people, girls in particular. Alien as in, how aliens come to earth and don’t understand the ways of life here. A little naïve, a little ditzy, an oddball, socially awkward yet a social butterfly. Always kinda in my own world, honestly, which can you blame me? The realities of this earth are hard to cope with sometimes 😂 but no, perhaps it’s the trauma and coping mechanisms, or maybe it’s just being neurodivergent. I hate talking about being neurodivergent though. You can thank my sister for that.

I rambled a lot, but I think I shared enough to get things off my chest temporarily. Thank you tumblr, for being my safe space, for letting me allow myself take up space.

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desaidissing9 · 2 years

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Great Tips For Getting The Most From Wordpress

WordPress is a very popular tool that is used by thousands of bloggers all over the world. If you are interested in learning how to blog, or if you are unsatisfied with your current blogging software, you need to learn more about WordPress. Keep reading for some valuable information about this program. If you plan to start a Wordpress blog, make sure that you offer readers more than just content. Even if you say many useful things, it may be quite difficult to engage readers with text. It would be a great idea to implement videos and pictures since this is a great attention grabber. Create smart URLs! Don't use a lot of keywords in the URL, and keep the whole thing simple and straightforward. Avoid desenvolvedor de sites . You want to create smart permalinks that are easy to look at and easy to understand. This helps make your blog more user friendly and comprehensible. Criação de sites wordpress is so great to work with is that its plug-ins offer a dazzling array of functions. Be that as it may, you want to be careful when selecting plug-ins. Don't just start downloading them willy-nilly. Begin with the essential plug-ins: WP DataBase BackUp, All-In-One SEO Pack and WP Optimize. Choose others with care to get precisely what you need. Sidebars are generally packed full of useless information. To help streamline them and only include information that your visitors want, navigate to Appearance & Widgets. Remove everything from your sidebar that does not get more people on your list, make visitors take an action or make you money. By paring down your sidebar, your WordPress site will become successful. If you haven't customized your WordPress sidebar, it could be cluttered with useless items that are doing nothing but confusing your readers. Your sidebar should only contain things you actually want visitors to click on. Navigate to Appearance & Widgets to edit the appearance of your sidebar and remove anything there that doesn't actually benefit you or your visitors directly. Are there lots of people commenting on your posts? If so, you and other visitors might find it difficult to weed through all of them. Install a plugin that can divide this into different pages. This will make the whole process much smoother. Create a charming greeting for your website. This allows you to communicate better with your audience. In this way, your page will seem more human, and it will be accessible via the plugin called WP Greet Box. Allow your users to access your articles easily by email. This is crucial for the purpose of sharing also, since many users might not have access to Twitter or Facebook at their job but may want to share with their friends your articles. Set this up using a WP-Email plugin. Always use targeted titles and descriptions. When prospective visitors use search engines to find your pages, these are among the first things they see. Don't overlook the importance of this fact. To have more control over these items on your WordPress site, you can use the SEO software, Scribe. You can then edit some of these items to make sure more people come to your site. Take the time to log out of your site every once in a while. Go back and look at it as a visitor. Doing so could allow you to see something that you are missing when you are logged in as an administrator. This step will not take very long, but it should set your mind at ease that everything is functioning the way that it should be. Optimize your photo size before uploading them to your WordPress media library. Photos should be no more than 10 to 15 kilobytes in size. A website is no place for a multi-megabyte sized photo. It'll slow down your website, which may cause some visitors just to surf elsewhere. Take the few minutes it takes to downsize that photo. Now that you have learned more about WordPress, you can decide whether or not this software is right for you. If you decide to use WordPress, you can make good use of this advice as you continue blogging. Remember, there is always more to learn, so keep looking for new information about WordPress.

#links patrocinados #Criação de sites

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neochan · 3 years

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GENRE | smut, idolverse!

WARNINGS | smut

WC | 2.6k +

A.N | this is a repost of my older work. i hope you enjoy it <3

You could still hear the unintelligible screaming of thousands of fans as the boys filtered off the stage and into the greenroom. Another successful concert in the long string of tour stops. You couldn’t even remember what state you were in because the days of traveling, unpacking, setting up, and doing it all again the next day ran together.

The boys were dripping sweat, immediately grabbing bottles of water and towels to wipe themselves off. They had worked harder than normal today since during one of the sets the microphone cut out and they had to perform acapella. Someone was getting fired for that.

Taeyong flopped onto the leather couch dominating the center of the room, water in one hand, phone in the other. “People are already uploading photos.” He outstretches his arm so the others could view the pictures pulled up on his screen.

“Johnny you look ridiculous,” you point out, laughing as a fan had caught Johnny in the act of wildly waving his light stick.

“I was having a good time, okay?” He chuckles and walks into the dressing rooms to change out of his stage outfit. Half of the group filtered out to change and half stayed to peruse through the gifts left by venue staff and play on their phones until told otherwise.

You were wondering where Hyuck was when you heard his voice from the hallway. He saunters in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Enjoy the show?” His golden skin was tainted pink, hair matted to his forehead by the sweat that was trickling down the side of his face. He grabbed his shirt and lifted it to swipe at his face, revealing his cute tummy. You had to resist the urge to poke it.

“I enjoyed hearing thousands of pretty fans scream your name” You give him a smirk knowing that he hates when you downplay your relationship.

He nudges you with his shoulder, “You know I meant the songs,” his doe eyes look into yours, his long lashes brushing against his cheek when he blinked “Besides, you know I love you and only you.”

Mark began to nervously giggle in the corner while Doyoung made fake gagging noises from the vanity he sat at. “Oh, shut up.” You say, throwing empty water bottles at the two, “And hurry up I wanna go swimming before it gets too late.”

The ride home was peaceful once the swarms of fans cleared a path for the bus. Per the managers request you slouched down in your seat so know one could see you through the window. It didn’t make much sense because the windows were tinted, but Haechan had to argue for his life to allow them to let you tag along on the tour, so you didn’t question them. Once you were on the road, you sat back up and snuggled close to Haechans side. He rested his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking you with his thumb. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, listening to music. It was so loud you could almost make out the words but you didn’t say anything – you let him stay in his post concert utopia for the whole trip.

The hotel was about an hour away from the venue so that no one would find them, and they’d be closer to their next destination. It was nicer than the others because it actually had a pool. You and Haechan made an agreement to go swimming after the concert, and you couldn’t wait. The staff also rented more rooms, so instead of four people to a bed, it was just you and Haechan.

After checking in everyone filtered off to their rooms leaving the both of you to freely do whatever you wanted - within reason of course. You both got changed, your gaze admiring the hard lines of Haechans back. “Don’t stare.” He blushed, wrapping a towel around his upper body.

You pulled on your bikini which made Haechan go silent. You specifically picked this one because it brought out your skin tone well, and cupped your features beautifully. “Now who’s staring?”

It never failed. The butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when Haechan watched you with loving eyes. You wrapped a towel around your waist, allowing Haechans eyes to roam the tops of your breasts, peeking out from the almost too small bathing suit.

His cheeks turned pink once he noticed he was caught, “Let’s go”.

The hallways were quiet since it was almost midnight, so you wordlessly made your way down the stairs and out into the night air. It had grown considerably cooler than when guys first arrived that morning, but the sky made up for it. Pretty stars pricked the vast expanse of dark blue and black infinity. You could see the moon peaking out from behind a single cloud, casting a shadowed glow on Haechans honey skin.

The gate was closed when you walked up to it so you stopped to read, “Aw man, the pool closed an hour ago,” You set your lips in a pout, “no wonder the lights weren’t on.”

“Hey it’s okay, no lights, no cameras, they probably wont even notice we’re here if we keep quiet.” He moves closer to you, eyebrows raised expectant for an answer.

You hesitated wondering if you really could pull it off, after all you’d been looking forward to this for the whole day, “I don’t wanna get in trouble..”

“You said you wanted to swim and I’m going to make sure that happens,” He gets down on one knee, “step on my leg, I'm gonna help you jump the fence.”

He boots you over, and grabs your arms to help lower you on the other side, but his hand slips and his nails dig into your shoulder. “Ow, fuck.” You wince rubbing the spot he scratched.

“Sorry, sorry” He says giggling, jumping the fence with such quietness and ease that it looked unreal. “Come on, dare you to do a canon ball!?”

He ran ahead throwing his towel on one of the pool chairs and jumping in the water. You cringe away from the loud slap his body hitting the water made. You walk slowly to the chair, deeply inhaling the addictive chlorine scent.

He finally stands up waist deep in the water and pushes his hair back. The blue water reflected against him, making his skin sparkle. “Come into the water y/n” he splashed some water into your general direction, but not enough to touch you.

“Okay, Okay.” You drop the towel and slip into the water. It was cold. Really cold. You gasp and recoil away, but not fast enough, because Haechan has wrapped his arms around you and started carrying you towards the deep end. You struggle a bit in his grip but his arms provide an iron cage that you can’t get out of. “Haechan let me go!”

He presses a warm kiss to the back on your neck but doesn’t comply with your wishes, instead making a curve and bringing you towards the underwater benches. He fixes his hold on you so that now he’s carrying you bridal style. You stare up at him, water droplets falling off his chin. His eyes were already red from the chlorine and you hoped that it cleared up by tomorrow nights concert. His plush lips sat in a pout, strong jaw set. He was so very pretty; and all yours. You smiled to yourself, deciding to keep that image locked away in your memory forever.

Once he gets to the benches he sets you down and glides in beside you. “You know It’s colder than I thought it was going to be.” He lifts a hand and sheepishly rubs the back of heck, “and you look way hotter in that bikini than I thought you would.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a dig or a compliment.” You scoot closer to him so that your thighs were pressed against each other. Finding his hand underwater, you intertwine your fingers with his own.

“A compliment babe.” He chuckles and slouches in the water so that only his head sat above it. You both sit there for a moment until it becomes too cold to sit still.

“Well I’m going to put it to use and go swim.” You push off from the cement and paddle around. The only way to stay slightly warm was to keep moving. Haechan watched you, eyes crinkled in a smile, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It was fun to watch you play in the water but the bathing suit was making him think of other things you two could be doing.

And that was how it stayed. Haechan watching while you performed for him.

A while had passed, the calm exterior of the pool getting to you, making you drowsy. The cold blue water washed over your hands while you gently skimmed the surface, making your way over to where Haechan was. You hummed a short tune under your breath, trying to keep yourself distracted. it was close to one in the morning now, but Haechan still sat on the bench, slightly shivering from the brisk air, hands gripping his thighs under the water while his mind wandered far away from the present.

“Watcha thinkin’ about” you ask, moving closer to him, hoping to catch some lingering body warmth.

“Fucking you ,” he moved off the seat and dove under the surface, only leaving small ripples in his wake. You stand there for a second wonder how he could be so blunt, so forward in his desires; he was never like this.

He swam a single circle around your body before popping up in front of you, giving you a mini heart attack. He pushes you back against the tiled walls, “I’ve spent the last hour thinking about fucking you. Thinking about how pretty you’d sound.” His head dips down to kiss along your collarbone, and your hands grab the back of neck, holding him there while his tongue sucked bruises into your tender skin. His hands grazed the bare skin of your arms, giving you goosebumps.

He moaned into the side of your neck, biting and sucking away, wanting you to yearn for him like he did for you. He lifted his head so that his mouth hung over yours, his small puffs of breath fanning over your face while he tests the waters. “Can I kiss you?”

Without giving him an answer you pull him closer by the roots of his hair. His kissing was messy and sweet, and while your tongues moved together, his hips began rubbing circles against you, trying to gain some friction in the cool water. Small heavy breaths were the only sound you could hear, aside from the occasional splash as Haechan moved restlessly.

Your hand wandered down his chest and below the surface to where you could feel him straining against his shorts. You began to stroke him over the fabric, his hips pushing against your touch. He broke the kiss to watch as you peeled down the elastic from his hips, his cock freed from the restricting material of his swim shorts. You watched him twitch slightly as the cold water met his length.

“You can’t make any noise.” You place a single finger against his lips.

“No promises.” He whispers, a devilish smirk breaking way on his face. His hands caress you thighs, pushing your bottoms to the side. The cold water hit you, making you gasp and push into Haechan who just whimpers against your touch.

He tried to stay quiet, only soft grunts between gritted teeth and muffled moans as his hips pushed into your own. The water created resistance but it just enhanced how good he was feeling. He hurriedly grabs at your legs, pulling them up so that they sat around his waist. Your back dragged up the tiled walls, scraping your tender skin, but you could only focus on Haechans cock thrusting deeply in and out of you. He stared longingly into your eyes, filling you up completely, wanting to savor the way they fluttered in the back of your head.

“You love the way I fill you up huh?” He groans into your ear, a hand falling forward to grip the cement ledge of the pool.

You couldn’t respond without fear of moaning so you nod your head wildly. He began to bite and suck at your collarbone, pushing you closer to the edge. Looking down he sees your nipples, erect, poking through the wet fabric of your bathing suit. His eyes grow wide, hips stuttering into you. Fuck you were hot.

“Haechannie, I think I’m going to come.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to focus on the feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Not yet.” He growls, hands moving to pin your wrists against the cement ledge, “Hold it princess, I know you can.” The water began to slosh around faster as Haechan thrusted harder into you. The sound was so loud its no wonder you didn’t hear the keys jangling against the hip of the guard making his way towards you two.

“Hey!,” he shouts running towards you, “The pool is closed! Get out! Are you two-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you and Haechan spring up out of fear and take off. It was easy to push yourself up onto the pool deck. The guard made the mistake of following you two and leaving the gate unattended. You and Haechan ran out, giggling, making your way back into the hotel. You didn’t stop until you got into the room and slammed the door behind you.

With your heart hammering in your chest you lean against the dark cherry wood . “Holy fuck we could’ve gotten in serious trouble.” You gasp out, clutching a hand against your wet bathing suit top.

“Babe we’ll be gone by morning, no one is gonna know.” Haechan paces in front of you trying to catch his breath. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, it was miracle he got them up in time.

“We’re so banned from this hotel.” A knock on the door makes you jump away from it, the worst of punishment's filling your mind. What were they going to do? They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

Haechan walks forward and turns the knob slowly, revealing a sleepy Doyoung. His oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder showing off his gaunt collarbone. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you want Doie?” you ask softly.

“How was getting chased by the guard?” he gives a sleepy chuckle, still half in his dreams.

“How did you-,” A look of realization hits Haechan, “You reported us?” He whined, pushing Doyoungs bare shoulder so that he stumbled back.

“Sound travels over water dumbasses and you guys were loud, I was trying to sleep!” Protesting, he pushes Haechans wet shoulder back.

“Well, now we’re going to be twice as loud.” Haechan slams the door in Doyoungs face and grabs you, throwing you on the bed. You give a squeal, and hear Doyoungs fist hit the door.

“I swear I’ll make a noise complaint.” He sounded more irritated than sleepy now.

“Go ahead, you’re just mad I’m getting laid and you aren't.” You playfully slap Haechans arm, but he nips at your hand. The other side of the door grows silent, Doyoung either going to report you two, or going back to his room defeated.

“Shall we pick up where we left off princess?”

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct drabble #nct fic #nct scenario #hyuck smut #doyoung

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shotorozu · 3 years

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hello! i love ur writings <3

wanted to request a hc of todoroki, deku, and bakugou and their reactions to the tiktok trend where those two girls are laughing and ppl put their friends/family members in the camera thinking it’s their friend or something 💀 (here’s a link to one of the videos https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe6oFVx5/ )

once again, love ur work and hopefully i did this request correctly 😩🙏🏽

s/o’s friends laugh at them

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : crack, fluff (x reader)

note(s) : i always say that i’m going to upload more, since i haven’t in a day but i’m going to keep my promises this time. and maybe after my content dump, that’s when i’ll fix my masterlists

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

this prank was very risky just like the other pranks you’ve pulled on him but that doesn’t stop you at all

you decided to do this prank after seeing it on the fyp— and also because of the prank’s simplicity since all you needed to do was download the tiktok

you called katsuki over when he finishes working out, and it all seems innocent “katsuki! come over here.”

katsuki, irritated— as he had just finished his exercise, he marches over to where you’re seated “what now, dumbass?”

“i want you to meet my friends!” katsuki only raises a brow, because he’s PRETTY sure that he’s met all of your friends

“now??” he sighs, “i thought i met all of your stupid friends.”

“not all of them,” you grin “c’mon please, katsuki?” and it’s over when your eyes twinkle, and he can only sigh— sitting next to you

“okay, let me meet them” he asks, and you pull up with your phone (that’s now filming, and with the video playing) and show him your ‘friends’

“this is katsuki! my boyfriend,” you introduce him to your ‘friends’

and he’s SO offended when your friends burst into laughter, “WHAT THE HELL’S SO FUNNY, EXTRAS??”

man was really about to explode your phone into pieces— and i’m serious about that part 🧎‍♂️ his hands were creating mini sparks out of anger

you had to coax him that it was just a prank, and they weren’t actually your friends

katsuki’s just 😐 “what did i expect from you?”

promise him that the video won’t go viral, and it won’t be seen by thousands and thousands of people.

you were wrong, and the video AND the audio ended up going viral. and katsuki had to hear his voice on tiktok for WEEKS.

“YOU TOLD ME IT WOULDN’T GO VIRAL DUMBASS” he fumes, red irises zeroing in on you.

“WELL SORRY— I DONT CONTROL THE ALGORITHM, but at least you’re famous!”

“fuck off,” he doesn’t mean that. but he just needs to learn how to not fall for your shit again, despite being really whipped for you

midoriya izuku

you’d feel bad because izuku’s ALWAYS at the receiving end of your pranks 💀

similar to bakugou, you decided to prank him because of the simplicity of the prank— and he wouldn’t get TOO offended by the prank’s nature, right? wrong 💀

izuku swings the door open, a couple of snacks held in his arms, “hey Y/N! i brought some snacks— what did you need me for?”

“oh, i want you to meet my cousins!”

he immediately goes red, setting down the snacks he brought to your room “your c-cousins? oh no no no, Y/N why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve showered before hand— i could’ve fixed my face and wore something different—”

poor izuku. he’s gesturing to his post workout state, since he was in such a hurry to get to your room with snacks.

but you brush his concern off “don’t worry, izuku! it’s through call. they won’t be able to smell you anyway.”

he calms down, and this when you decide to start the tiktok. “i’m going to call them,” he only nods, quickly hurrying over to your side— to meet your ‘cousins’

“say hi, izuku!” he nervously smiles, showing his face to the camera and waving his hand— totally oblivious of the intentions

he’s stammering on the introduction, and that’s when the rather hysterical laughing starts

he blinks, the feeling of defeat courses through his entire body— the green haired boy immediately moves away from the view

why exactly is izuku genuinely sad from your ‘cousins’ laughing at him? well,, it was always a thing for him to try his very best to be likeable to your relatives

your parent(s)/guardian? they adore him. siblings (if there’s any) they’re also very fond of him. so while you say that they’re your cousins— it still means a lot if he made a good impression

“i,, should’ve changed!” he sulks, the fact that the laugh was quite hysterical didn’t aid the issue, “your cousins will never like me,,”

his mind is put at ease when you tell him it’s a prank— and they’re not actually your cousins. so he doesn’t need to do any redeeming, regardless of the fact that he ‘just met’ them

he sighs in relief, actually glad that it was all just another innocent tiktok prank (that did make his heart race 10x faster)

the video blows up, his distraught reaction being splayed across the fyp, it eventually getting onto twitter— his face being used as an reaction video

“you’re viral, izuku!”

he’s content, despite his distraught reaction being spread across the internet. but he just wishes that your actual cousins don’t see it 💀

todoroki shouto

is most likely aware of your tiktok pranks— but please 💀 this one looked realistic to him, so how was he supposed to tell??

anyways, you decided to do this prank because you wanted to see how he’d react to your ‘family members’ laughing at him. his reactions are golden though

it’s harmless, in a way— it’s mostly a harmless prank. shouto knows how to not take things too seriously, but you just wanted to see his reactions.

“shouto, could you please come over here?” you call for him to sit right next to you, patting his usual spot next to you.

“what is it?” he asks, getting comfortable next to you, kissing your temple— and that’s when you pull out your phone

“i want you to meet my siblings!”

shouto’s puzzled, because one— he always prefers to meet your family members in person, and two— he didn’t know you had siblings (or more siblings)

“we’re not meeting them in person?”

“oh wait! i forgot to mention that they’re working abroad. so we can’t really schedule a meeting in person.”

shouto’s skeptical, but you reassure him further “it’ll be quick!”

the dual haired boy chooses to believe you which was honestly really wrong of him, “alright, i’ll meet them.”

he moves next to you, peaking at the screen “say hi to shouto!”

he was expecting a few things but,, them breaking out into hysterical laughter was just something else

shouto’s so confused 💀✋ someone please help him, it’s like you spoke to him in simlish. that’s what his reaction would be like.

and he’s just thinking things like— why are you guys laughing? is there dirt on my face? i didn’t even say anything funny??

“why are they laughing? love, i didn’t even say anything funny??”

oblivious shouto. he’s not even aware that it’s all just a tiktok prank. but he must say— he’s a little bit disappointed that he already has a bad impression on your ‘siblings’

it’s your turn to laugh, making his thinking at a vague state— shouto’s trying to think of pieces of dialogue he might’ve missed

“it’s a prank, shouto— look,” you replay the tiktok of the girls laughing, and it comes clearly to him now

“oh.” 🧍 honestly, why is he so shocked? it wasn’t the first time you managed to prank him in such a similar nature.

he’s not mad though— rather, shouto’s impressed. “love, i adore you— but i’m not sure on why i got surprised.”

“right? i’d think that you’re used to this but i guess you’re not!” nah, he just believes you a little bit too easily.

but that doesn’t mean he WON’T be suspicious when he actually has to meet your siblings.

“these,, are actually your siblings? no pranks this time, right?” he just wants to make sure. he won’t fall for your potential pranks again!

also, the video does well, the comments being filled with “LMAO HE LOOKED GENUINELY CONFUSED” “shouto todoroki being confused for 20 seconds straight 🤠❓❓”

shouto is very confused on why the girls were just laughing, putting everything aside— he just doesn’t know the context of that tiktok 🧎‍♂️

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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readyremus · 2 years

Text

If only you knew.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

In between his 6th and 7th year at Hogwarts, Remus meets a muggle girl and the beginnings of a summer romance bloom. That is, until Sirius comes to possibly ruin his bliss.

-DISCLAIMER: I wrote this with absolutely no intention of ever showing it to anyone. It originally had an OC as the reader - an OC written ti be remarkably similar to myself(hence the specificity with the dog name and song choices). But the recent resurgence of my Remus obsession has led me to some very wonderful writers. And in my impatient but dedicated wait for them to upload new content, I've been inspired to post my own. So please. Read at your own risk.

P.S. this was written with multiple parts in mind, most of them unfinished. Whether I post those is up to you.

It’s not creepy, Remus tells himselfs as he peeks through the blinds of his window, hearing the jingle of dog tags approach closer and closer.

She was tangled in the little one’s leash as he ran around frantically, sniffing every damn bush he came across.

“So much energy and it’s only 6 in the morning.” He hears her huff, stumbling along behind the three dogs dragging her to the park.

Like clockwork, he thinks as he pulls on his trousers. She came out every morning around 6 o’clock to walk her dogs to the park, bundled up in a big sweater and those cherry red boots. He admired her consistency, never imagining he could get up that early each day to stroll in the morning chill.

Well, at least before he started doing it every morning himself.

It’s not like I’m stalking her, he assured himself over the cup of coffee he was brewing into a thermos. He added some cream and altogether too much sugar, screwed on the cap and made it quickly out the door with a paperback in his coat pocket. Maybe I’m just becoming a morning person.

The habit began when he couldn’t sleep one night after the full moon. It had been particularly rough - the first he’d gone through this summer without his friends. His mother did her best with his new injuries but the cuts were smarting against his back, sides, and front as he tossed around in bed, making sleep seem like a farther and farther away concept with every sting. He’d decided on a walk to help take his mind off things, and maybe ease the aches etched into his bones.

The walk did no such thing. The wind blasted through the cuts on his face and his joints clanked against the pavement with every step but, after a while, the cold started to make him feel pleasantly numb. He sat on a bench, facing the lake and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth creep onto his face as the sun rose over the mountains. He’d almost drifted off to sleep in the calm of the early morning until he’d heard someone singing down the trail.

She bumbled down the trail behind three dogs, headphones blasting with music so loud he could hear it from ten feet away. He doesn’t think she noticed him at all, striding past with her eyes closed as she sang the chorus.The cadence of the song had immediately imprinted itself into Remus’ mind. She quickly went over the next hill and disappeared, but Remus stayed until he couldn’t hear her lovely voice anymore.

He’d hummed it to himself nonstop for the next three days, driving himself insane trying to find the song before one morning, when he’d heard it through his window again.

It had been another sleepless night and he hadn’t even noticed the sky brightening outside as he lazily scrolled through his computer. But as he peered outside, there she was again. Her little head peeked over the collar of her jacket, hair messily blowing past her face. She had no headphones on this time, allowing the music to play from her phone in her pocket.

“You made me lose my self control...keep a place for me...I’ll sleep between y’all, it’s no thing,” he’d heard a male voice sing, and as soon as she rounded the corner out of his sight, he jumped back onto his laptop and looked up the song.

Self Control by Frank Ocean.

He’d never heard of him - as with most muggle artists. His mum had stuck to listening to old love songs from the 60’s, the latest of her music taste probably being the Beatles. He knew almost every Ricky Nelson song by heart but probably couldn’t tell you who Kanye West was if his life depended on it.

But he’d plugged in his headphones and fell in love. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever heard before - undeniably modern and charmingly offbeat but something about it felt timeless. Maybe it was the sadness in it, the acoustic guitar leading the track, the heartbroken crooning in the background. He’d played the entire album on repeat all day, slowly learning the lyrics to every track. But at the end of each song, he still found himself yearning to hear her voice.

And so he found himself here, bitterly sipping his coffee on the cold bench as he pretended to pay attention to his book.

I must be incredibly bored or totally out of my mind, Remus thought as the biting wind blew past his cheeks and ruffled the pages of his book.

Truly, Remus didn’t quite understand what had drawn him to her so. It was a small town and his home was more on the outskirts than most other houses so he barely got to see other people during the summers, much less pretty girls his age. But he’d never been one to be so obsessive with girls. Being friends with James and Sirius gave him proximity to many eligible and willing students at Hogwarts but he had never found any real interest in dating any of them.

But she strolls past him twice and he’s getting up at the ass crack of dawn just to occupy the same area as her. Godric, if the lads knew about this, I’d never hear the end of -

Just before he’d finished his thought, he saw a little white dog run up to him and hop onto his bench. He smiled before realizing it was THE little white dog, i.e. HER little white dog.

“Uzi!” He looked up, hearing her yell. She was approaching and Remus felt panic rise up his spine. He froze with his book in his hand as she ran up with the two other dogs on leash. The brown one ran up ahead of her and it’s leash went up from behind her legs and tangled, sending her crashing to the ground with a yelp.

“Oh god,” Remus exclaimed, springing into action. He dropped his book and coffee and went to help her. “Are you okay?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed over concerned eyes. He knelt down and put his hands on her shoulders. She was shaking slightly and he could hear her…

Laughing?

He relaxed as she lifted her head back and chuckled into her hand. Remus let himself smile as he pulled himself up, offering her a hand.

“Wow, that’s embarrassing.” She shook her head and pulled her hand from her face, looking up at Remus with her full smile. She took his hand, helping her up. They came face to face - well, perhaps face to chest. He noticed she was quite short. Her smile fell a bit and Remus blinked. He must have been staring.

“Are you okay?” she said through a playful smirk, lifting her hand up a bit. Remus looked down and noticed that his was still attached.

“Ha, yeah, sorry sorry. That was a fantastic stunt, by the way. Very impressive.” He joked, surprising himself at his banter. You laughed again and Remus felt a flutter in his chest.

“Oh, you liked that, did you? I practiced all week.” Remus chuckled with her before the smile suddenly fell off of her face as she looked behind him.

“Oh my god! My dog!” She ran past him, remembering what led her there. He followed behind, watching with amusement as she tried to pry his book from his teeth. “I am so so sorry, I think he’s possessed - hey wait! I love this book!” She looked at the cover lovingly, successfully winning the tug of war. “You like Terry Pratchet?”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Er - yeah. Well, actually it’s my mum’s. I haven’t really begun reading it.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh fuck, its your mum’s? I - shit! My dog’s drooled all over it! I promise I’ll buy you a new one. Oh no” she fussed, trying to smooth over the cover. Remus smiled and stopped her hands.

“No, it’s fine. Really. It was falling apart anyway.”

“But-”

“Look, I promise she won’t notice.” She didn’t look convinced but she finally released the book and Remus looked at it briefly before putting it back in his coat pocket. I’ll actually have to read this Terry Pratchet person later, he made a mental note to himself.

She spoke again after a short beat of expectant silence. “Well, uh. Sorry again.” She smiled sheepishly and turned to leave before Remus called out to her.

“Wait!” She turned around and Remus scrambled to find something to say, surprising himself again with his boldness. “Uh, I could take one of your dogs.”She tilted her head in confusion. Remus closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I mean - I could help you walk them. If you’re having trouble. Not that you can’t handle your dogs. That’s not what I’m saying. Just - I’ve seen them dragging you around a bit and -”

“I’d love that. Thank you.” She interrupted, saving himself from further trouble with his sentences. She handed him the leash to the little white dog, her face struggling to hold in her amusement. “You can take Uzi.”

He took the leash, smiling down at the excited pup. “Uzi? Like the gun?”

She smiled, beginning to walk. “More like the rapper.” Remus nodded, pretending to understand. Another name to look up, he noted. His homework was piling up.

“Interesting name.” He giggled as the dog ran around his feet, tangling him up with the leash.

“And yours?” she asked, looking up at him.

Remus blushed against her gaze, feeling strangely hesitant to answer. “Remus.”

“Interesting name,” she repeated, smilingly. “I’m Y/N.” She held out her free hand and he shook it, relishing in its warmth.

“Y/N.” he repeated.

“Remus.” she mocked. Their hands lingered before she blushed and looked down, putting her hand back in her pocket. “So, you must be part wolf or something.”

Remus turned to her again in shock. “What?”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the corners of her mouth turning up. “You know, like in the Greek myth.”

Remus blinked before visibly relaxing. He chuckled somewhat nervously.

“If only you knew.”

The walk to her house was only occasionally awkward, Remus shocked at his own capacity to maintain conversation with her. She only lived about ten minutes away and despite being pleased at the proximity of their homes, he found himself wishing she had lived across town if it meant they could walk together longer. It had felt easy - something he was not accustomed to in conversations with strangers. Being friends with James and Sirius for nearly four years should’ve taught him something about being more extroverted but he’d struggled to get past small talk with most other people in his classes. Hell, even Peter seemed more personable than he was. But she was confident and funny, their senses of humor complimenting one anothers’ in such a natural way that could almost only be described as fateful. They’d arrived at her front gate, parting with hopes that they’d see each other around. Remus was pretty determined to make sure of it.

He walked into his front door, surprising his dad in the kitchen as he shrugged off his coat. “Gee, Rem. Where did you come from? I thought you were still in bed.”

“Oh, uh...morning walk,” he said, sitting down at the table and setting his book in front of him.

His father squinted at him. “A ‘morning walk’ eh? Did someone hold you at wandpoint?” he joked, chuckling over his cup of coffee.

Remus lightly blushed and rolled his eyes. Oh, it’s much worse, he embarrassingly thought. “Is it really so hard to believe?”

His father glanced down at the book on the table and reached across for it. “The Color of Magic? A fantasy novel, Rem?” His father gave him a curious look. “Very strange indeed.”

It was true. Remus read lots, muggle books included, but always found himself steering away from books about magic, finding it a bit strange written from a muggle’s perspective.

“Someone recommended it to me.”

His dad looked up from the cover, noticing the slight color on Remus’ cheeks. A knowing smirk grew on his face but he said nothing. He moved to get up, getting ready to leave for work before he remembered something.

“Oh, this came for you this morning.” He handed Remus a piece of folded parchment with his name scrawled on the front. Sirius’ handwriting, he thought. He scanned it quickly, mumbling it to himself.

“Oi, dad!” He yelled after his father, halfway out the door. “Sirius is asking if he could come stay here for summer.”

His father pondered it a bit. “All summer?” Remus shrugged in response. His father took a second to think. “Well…I suppose I don’t see why not. But ask your mother first.”

“Ask me what first?” Remus turned to the staircase as his mum descended, dressed for work and carrying her handbag. She kissed her husband goodbye and turned to Remus.

“Well, uh I just got a letter from Sirius,” he began slowly. He knew his mother would be harder to convince, expecting her to fuss about the state of their home or not having enough food. “He’s having some troubles at home and was asking if he could maybe spend the summer here?”

A crease had formed in his mother’s forehead but there was consideration in her eyes. She knew about the Black family and how they treated Sirius. “What about the Potters? Doesn’t he usually go there?”

“Yes but he said the Potters are on vacation so...he has nowhere to go.” he looked at her pleadingly.

His mother sighed before smiling tiredly. “I suppose that’d be alright. Can’t leave Sirius out on the poor street. He’d cause it too much trouble,” she joked. “But you’d better clean up, alright? And make sure he eats when he arrives. He’s starting to look as thin as you.”

Remus smiled sarcastically. “Thanks, mum.”

“Alright, I’m off to work. Bye, sweetie.” She kissed him on the cheek and was barely out the door when a deep voice spoke behind him.

“Well, now that that’s settled.”

Remus jumped and turned around, greeted by the towering figure of his best friend in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ!” he said, holding his chest.

Sirius smiled, “Nope, just me, Moony. Now where can I put my stuff? I’m famished.”

81 notes · View notes

warmau · 3 years

Text

☆ko-fi au: idiots-to-lovers!au kyungsoo | tw: suggestive *this is more like oblivious-to-lovers/mentions a breakup find other exo aus: here

"do you want me to take care of him?"

kyungsoo's voice is calm as he sits across from you in the kitchen, late-night coffee untouched on the island counter

"no, it's ok. plus you know if it was legal i could right hook him myself."

you flex your arm and kyungsoo cracks a half smirk, eyes big and brown from behind his squared frame glasses

sehun appears from his room and groans, rubbing his head as he takes kyungsoo's untouched cup and swigs it down

"ew! why are you two drinking caffeine at one in the morning!"

he sputters as he slams the cup down and kyungsoo looks apathetically at the splashes of coffee that make their way onto his tshirt

you give him a sympathetic look as you tell sehun to go back to bed - he's your roommate and you know he and kyungsoo get along like a cat and a dog would

"fine. by the way - did your jerk of an ex return your stuff yet?"

you wave your hand and shrug

"no, he just texted me that he threw it all out by accident."

sehun groans with a hand on his hip, mumbling about how in between your things he's pretty sure your ex also took his copy of some video game

he makes himself a glass of water and disappears again and you and kyungsoo are once again left alone together

best friends since high school - he was the only person you could think to call when you'd gotten the infuriating text, along with a number of other rude things your ex had decided to divulge

he had no qualms about driving down here in the dead of night

he has work tomorrow, but he lies when you ask and says he doesn't

you lie and say you don't either because you want more time with him, regardless of this ex drama or not

because

well

you're both in love with each other and it's so painfully obvious to everyone with eyeballs but you two.

not even when you were voted cutest couple by your peers and brushed it off as a prank

not when all through college your partners had brought up the other as a constant wedge between your relationships

not even when your own parents would mistakingly ask if you and kyungsoo were planning on moving in together finally

if there were divine signs in this world, you and kyungsoo were recklessly passing them by

and willful ignorance couldn't even cut it at this point

not when the world seemed to be holding up a neon sign with arrows aimed at your heads flashing: soulmates!

"i just wish i could do something to get back at him though, i know revenge is the low road but..."

you huff and rest your elbows on the island as kyungsoo takes his phone out and places it in front of you

"i have an idea. you haven't texted him back, have you?"

he doesn't blink and you shake your head

"no, plus my read receipts are off."

"then i think my plan might work. it is a little bit risky though."

kyungsoo has always been the levelheaded one of you two, actually, he's outwardly more levelheaded and calm.

you've known him so well that you have seen the occasional, rare outbursts of emotion that are otherwise always hidden

so when he explains his plan - you're surprised by how sly and also how intimate it is

you had expected kyungsoo to say something about reporting your ex's instagram or tracing his IP to block it

when he'd said

"why don't we take a pretend couple photo together and post it now. your ex will think i'm at your place."

it had taken you a whole ten seconds to realize why posting such a photo at this time of the day would probably send your ex into a frenzy

kyungsoo even motions to himself and says he'll take his shirt off for added effect

"i could never ask you to post something like that on your account...."

he pushes his glasses up

"i don't care, social media doesn't impact my daily life anyway."

swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat you are aware of how tiny the walls around you two seem

like they're pushing you together by an unseen magnetic force

"o-ok."

kyungsoo gets up, he flicks his eyes toward sehun's room but the door is shut tightly, and he pads softly toward your door

he's been in your room more than any other friend, he could probably find his way around in complete darkness

and he does - sitting on your bed as you come in after him, flicking the light on

"should i - should i like mess my hair up or something?"

you mean it as a lighthearted quip about the already awkward situation, but kyungsoo pulls you toward him and in between his knees

his hands come up and tussle some of your hair to make it look disheveled.

"take off my glasses"

you reach out and notice the little tremor in your hand as you slip them off

his face is clean and unchanging

has he always been this handsome? something seems even more hot about him after he got discharged.

you place the glasses carefully on your nightstand

"so how do we do this?"

kyungsoo lets his hands splay on the back of your thighs, as quickly as you were standing you end up sitting in his lap - legs wrapped around his waist as he lifts you into a comfortable position.

you position your arm around his neck and then apologize, but he doesn't react

instead he shrugs out of the shirt with your help and loops his finger through the strap of the tank you're wearing

"you don't have to take it off, we can just push the straps down"

the moment is so clearly special, close, and personal

even if it's supposed to be some elaborate laugh in your ex's face. there is not question about the palpable energy in the room.

but you and kyungsoo keep along with the act that it means nothing

that it means nothing when you're pressed against the skin of his chest and kyungsoo is cheek to cheek with you, lips close to your temple

he gives it a small kiss, the kind that flutters something deep in the cavern of your chest, just as you take a photo with his phone

when you both look at it - you don't make a move off his lap and kyungsoo's hand that is close to the curve of your hip doesn't budge either

the picture is so realistic you blurt out

"we really look like a couple."

the silence simmers and simmers and simmers

kyungsoo doesn't try to leave, you don't tell him to go

the clock on his home screen ticks closer and closer to two a.m.

"we should be one."

kyungsoo turns his attention completely on you, your hand on his shoulder curls a little and your nails feel good against him

"we should be what?"

you ask, feeling dumber than you have ever in your life

"be a couple."

kyungsoo uses the hand that's not holding you ontop of him to unlock his phone, navigating with ease to his profile and without any warning, he uploads the photo

captions it with nothing but a heart emoji

and posts it

you think you're going to faint and fall forward into his warm embrace

his phone starts to buzz, even this late at night a photo like that catches the attention of everyone following him

he doesn't look at the notifications - looking at you instead

"what do you say?"

the words don't come to your brain - all these years of pinning in silence

all this time spent pretending you weren't destined to be together to your own annoyance, his, and everyone elses

you see a comment pop up on the post from sehun's profile

"since when does he follow you?"

you mumble and kyungsoo opens it with a swipe of his thumb

oohsehun: thank god. but ewwwww don't bang with me in the house!

oohsehun: also @real__pcy you owe me ten dollars i told you once they break up with their boyfriend these two are going to see the light and finally get together

"see"

kyungsoo hums

"everyone already thinks we're in love - so why don't we just be in love?"

you move in his lap, acutely aware of the friction you both create like this

"do you want to be in love with me?"

you murmur, heartbeat starting to ring in your ears as you wait for him to answer

kyungsoo licks his lips and takes in a deep breath

"i don't have a choice, i have always been in love with you."

you think your heart stops - just for a second - because you can't hear it anymore

suddenly everything is full of kyungsoo

and you push him back onto your sheets to press your mouth open and hot to his

beside your bodies his phone pings with more and more notifications

most of them are congratulations and exclamations that mirror sehun's.

one is an angry stupid comment from your ex, but kyungsoo and you don't have to do anything.

sehun takes care of that in a single reply for you two

(everyone agrees with him and by the time you and kyungsoo wake up later, your ex has deleted the comment like the embarrassment he is)

#idiots to lovers #oblivious to lovers #ko fi commissions #kyungsoo au #kyungsoo imagines #kyungsoo scenario #do scenario #do imagines #exo scenarios #exo au #exo imagines #exo #kyungsoo #im sehunm

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