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#even if I had told her that I wasn’t ready to just let it go. i still don’t know that it would have made a difference
minniesmutt · 2 days
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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: I.N X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: CNC, ROLEPLAY (INTRUDER & VICTIM), MANHANDELING, FINGERING, DEGRADING, CHOKING, (1) PUSSY & CLIT SLAP, SPIT, GROPING, MIRROR SEX, COCKWARMING, CLIT PLAY, SQUIRTING, OVERSTIM, (1) SPANK, DYCRYPHILIA, BREEDING KINK, AFTERCARE, CREAMPIE ☾ ━━━ WC: 2K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
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     “You home baby?” Jeongin called into the apartment.
     “Bedroom.” he heard her call back
     The idol made his way up to the bedroom, finding her folding their laundry. He came up behind her and held her hips as he kissed her temple, “Hi.”
     “Hi,” Y/n greeted as she turned her head to him, pecking his lips
     “Bought the mask before I left work,” He told her as he sat on the bed and took over the folding so she could start putting the clothes away
     “You did?!” Y/n asked
     “Yeah,” Jeongin said as she walked back over to the bed and he pulled her down onto his lap, “Tell me what you want me to do to you in it.”
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     It was eerily silent in the apartment. Y/n was used to the silence of the apartment. Something was just off about today but she tried not to think about it. Setting her stuff down, slipped off her shoes and walked to her room. Ready to shower and crawl into her bed. 
     Y/n made her way into the en-suite bathroom and turned on the water, letting it heat up as she stripped out of her work clothing. Tossing the clothes in the hamper and getting in the shower. Washing away the day of work and stress. The weird feeling lingered in the back of her head for the entire duration of her shower. 
     Y/n grabbed a towel from the rack next to her shower. Wrapping her body before stepping out of the shower. She walked back into her room to put on some pajamas and go to sleep. That was her plan but nothing wanted to go as planned for her today.
     As soon as she reached her closet to pull something out, her mouth was covered and pulled back against someone. She screamed into whatever was covering her mouth while trying to keep her towel up at the same time and fight back     
     “Keep fighting and see where that gets you.” A deep voice said in her ear.
     Fight or flight had already kicked in her and it wasn’t stopping as she tried getting him off her but he had strength over her. He pushed her forward onto the bed before turning her onto her back and standing between her legs. All the movement loosened the towel on her.
     “Let me—” Before she could finish her sentence, a hand was gripping her throat tight. Killing any words in her throat.
     “Just don’t know how to listen do you, dumb slut.”
     Y/n tried pulling his hand away from her neck and trying to use her legs to kick him off. The only thing her actions did was unravel the towel from her body. Which the intruder noticed before she did.
     His free hand moved and groped one of her tits and Y/n froze. Finally seeing the elongated white and black mask hiding his face. But she could tell he was smiling as he squeezed the mound.
     Not even a second later, he pulled the towel out from under her and turned her back on her stomach. Pushing her knees under her as he got behind her and pulled her head back. “Walking around with nothing but a towel on, begging for anyone to bend over and use.” He groaned in her ear.
     “No,” Y/n whined as his other hand went between her legs, fingers finding her clit.
     “Hm?” He asked while she was squirming against him from the stimulation on the bud.
     Y/n grabbed onto his wrists to try and pull him away from her but he was quicker to push her back down on the bed. Holding her head down into the mattress as his other hand moved back behind her before coming down on her cunt. 
     Y/n screamed into the mattress as two fingers prodded her hole. “All wet. Could slip a cock inside this tight fucking hole with no problem.”
     All her protests were muffled as she tried pushing up against him. His fingers moved deeper into her and curled up into her walls as she tried to bite back a moan.
     “Trying to watch yourself get fucked?” He teased before pulling her back up and moving their position. Sitting on the edge of the bed and putting her in his lap, her legs hanging over his.
     He grabbed her chin and made her look forward. Y/n realized he had them right in front of her full-length mirror. Y/n tried covering herself with her hands but he didn’t let that last long. Managed to pull his belt from his wrists and bind her wrists together behind her back before his fingers were plugging her up again.
     “There we go. Now you’re just a complacent little fuck doll,” He said behind her.
     Y/n whined as his fingers picked up a quick pace fucking her open. His hand that held her jaw came up and pried her mouth open. Sticking his fingers in her mouth so she couldn’t hide any of her noises from him. 
     Y/n clenched around his fingers just for him to slow down the pace or change it altogether. Whining as he would switch from fucking the digits into her to curling them up against her walls. Taking them out a couple of times and spreading her slick around her folds and her clit.
     Y/n tried closing her eyes. Hoping it was a dream but the harsh slap on her clit told her it was reality. Her eyes snapped open as he shoved his fingers further into her mouth. Droll dripping down her chin.
     “Can’t handle having just a couple fingers in you?” He asked, slipping three fingers into her
     Y/n moaned as the fingers fucked into her and he took his other hand out of her mouth. His hand smeared her saliva over her chest before groping her chest again. Fingers rolling each nipple between his fingers. Y/n clenched around the fingers inside her and arched her back as he pinched her nipple.
     “Gonna cum on my fingers,” He teased behind her
     “No,” Y/n moaned
     “Hm? You know you want to. I’ll fuck you nice and full if you cum.”
     Y/n whined as his fingertips prodded at the soft spot inside her. Very quickly unraveling the knot that formed in her stomach. Cumming on the man’s fingers as she squirmed in his lap.
     “Good girl,” he groaned, fingers continuing to fuck her through the high. Not stopping while she came down either
     “‘S too much,” Y/n whined
     “Yeah? Seem’s like you can take it,” he whined as struggled in his lap.
     Somehow his pace picked up more. Y/n bit her bottom lip as he worked her quickly to another orgasm. Blinding her with how fast it was building. Trying to pull her arms out of their restraints as he kept going and toying with her breasts. 
     “No more. Please!” Y/n begged 
     “Hm?” he asked and Y/n could hear him grinning behind the mask. “Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying this. Getting fucked open like a whore and watching.”
     Y/n whined in response before she was throwing her head back and cumming again. He pulled his fingers out this time and watched as her lower half shook. 
     He pushed her back against him and managed to slip his hard cock out of her. Y/n whined as the shaft stood straight against her. Trying to get away
     “Let’s see how many times you can squirt,” he said as he maneuvered her to sink onto his dick. 
     Y/n had barely processed what happened to her last orgasm till he looked down to see her floor wet. Her whole body heated up as his fingers traveled to her clit. Rubbing the neglected bud and making her clench around the cock sitting in her
     “Fuck!” Y/n groaned
     His pace on her clit was relentless. His other hand had moved up and grabbed her neck again. Y/n gasped and squeezed around him as he squeezed her neck. 
     “Just a little cock whore aren’t you,” He groaned in her ear. 
     Y/n shook her head ‘no’ as she bucked her hips forward a bit.
     “No? You’re the one riding my dick now.”
     Y/n closed her eyes again as the knot tightened more and bucked her hips forward again. Legs feeling shaky over his as he rubbed her clit more and more till the knot snapped again. 
     “What a good whore,” he smiled as he gently slapped her clit a few times as rode out high on him. 
     “plea…” Y/n cried as he loosened his grip on her neck. He let her catch some air. 
     He said nothing as he pushed her legs to the floor. Making her stand on slightly wobbly legs as he held her bound wrists to keep her up. Cock easily slid back into her.
     “Eyes forward,” he commanded as slapped her ass
     Y/n whined and lifted her head. Locking eyes with the mask in the mirror as he chuckled. “Look at those tears.”
     Y/n tried blinking away the tears from her eyes as he stuffed two fingers back in her mouth. Degrading praises fell past the mask to her ears as he hammered into her. Her walls pulsed around him the sensitivity of her first two fingers’ orgasms. 
     Pleas fell on deaf ears— not like she could do much talking with how he was fucking her and his fingers in her mouth. 
     “Gonna fill this hole up. Leave you nice and full for the next person to use.”
     Y/n whined as she tried moving away from him with no luck, again. “Yeah? Like the thought of being used by whoever walks in? Maybe I’ll leave you nice and pregnant. Make sure everyone knows you belong to someone already.”
     Y/n squeezed the cock inside of her as more tears flowed freely from her eyes. The dick inside her twitched with each thrusting before white was painting her walls. His hard thrusts slowed while he pulled her back against him. Pulling his wet fingers out of her mouth and circling her swollen clit again. 
     Y/n let out a moan and leaned forward. Begging as best she could to stop. That it was too much but he was relentless. Playing with her poor clit till he had finished dumping inside her. His slow deep thrusts never stopped even when the knot in her stomach snapped again. Squirting on him again before the mask was ripped off her boyfriend’s face. 
     Jeongin threw the mask behind him on the bed and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend while she came down from her high. “You did so good baby,” Jeongin said as he kissed her shoulder 
     He sat down with her in his lap and untied her wrist, “Innie…”
     “I’m right here. Innies got you.”
     Y/n whined as he gently pulled her off his dick and laid her back on the bed. “More…”
     “No more right now pretty,” Jeongin gently kissed her lips, “Your legs were shaking. How about we clean up and cuddle?”
     “But I feel empty now.”
     “We’ll clean up then you can have me back inside you and we’ll watch that new drama. Okay?”
     Y/n nodded and let her boyfriend help her clean up. Getting her in the bath while he cleaned up the room from their scene. He joined her after and helped her wash up a bit before they were getting out. He wrapped them both in towels and led her to the bed.
     “No clothes,” Y/n whined as he grabbed some pajamas from their closet. 
     “I don’t want you getting cold baby,” Jeongin told her, yet complied with her request anyway. Making sure they were both dry before getting under the clean sheets. 
     The idol turned on the show before pulling her against him and slowly pushing his cock back into her as he promised. 
     “Your breeding kink was showing by the way,” Y/n told him after some time 
     “I’m not sorry. Need everyone to know who you belong to,” Jeongin teased and kissed her cheek.
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zepskies · 2 days
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Take Me Home - Part 6
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions…
Word Count: 4.6K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tinge of spice~
❤️ Series Masterlist
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“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked. 
He stood there with determination set across his face.
“We really need to talk.”
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“We already did! Just leave me the hell alone,” you said. If your day hadn’t been long already, you knew it was about to be even longer. 
Because just as you began to close the door, Michael slapped a hand on the center of it and pushed his way into your apartment.
You gasped and had to back up a couple of steps. “What are you doing?”
“Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave,” Michael said, staring down into your eyes. “That’s all I want.”
He pushed the door closed behind him, but it swung open, just a crack. In his heated state, he hadn’t even noticed. Neither did you. You stepped back further into the center of the living room and crossed your arms with an angry frown. 
“I don’t care!” you snapped. Your patience quota for the day had run out a long time ago. “I just want to be done. Don’t you get that?”
“I know,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked tired as hell; like he hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks. Now in the light of day and not a dusky bar, you could see the darkness under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks, though he was usually clean-shaven. 
“I know and I’m sorry. I hurt you badly, and I never even told you why,” he said.
You tilted your head in contemplation. Because he was right. For all these months, you’d been so incensed at the bare facts of what he’d done, you’d never looked too deeply into the why.
The one time you’d asked him (while throwing his clothes and possessions out of your shared apartment at the time), he’d never given you a good answer.
“Okay, fine. Why did you do it then?” you asked. “Why did you betray me in the worst way possible, and still try to marry me?”
Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking. “The truth?”
That sparked your anger once more.
“No, keep lying to me like you’ve done from the very start!” you retorted.
“It wasn’t from the start!” he barked back. “It was around six months in, when we were dating. You and I had argued about something stupid. Kate came over to talk it out with me…just to talk. I swear to God. But we were drinking and…”
You let out a sigh, casting your gaze upwards. You really didn’t think you wanted to hear this after all. Michael earned your attention back though, when he took a step forward into your orbit.
“She got pregnant,” he admitted.
Your mouth fell open as your breath left your lungs. Your hands went to your temples in disbelief, and you made a sound of pure shock and distress.
“But she lost the baby early on,” he said. “She was devastated. I was too, but…I tried to help her through it. And it became this, this thing that wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me go.”
You shook your head as furious tears welled up in your eyes. This was just too ridiculous and upsetting to compute. You didn’t even recognize the man that was standing in front of you anymore.
How could he blame Kate for what they’d done to you, and for clinging to him after losing her baby? How could he keep that from you, even when he asked you to marry him?
And how could he tell you all of this now and expect you to forgive him?
You didn’t have the words, but you held out a hand against him when he tried to take another step toward you.
“I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up. But you don’t have to come all the way here to run away,” he said. “Your parents miss you. Our friends…they all love you. And most of them rightly don’t want anything to do with me.”
He looked down then, with shame coloring his features. 
Through your tears and the struggle of collecting yourself, you studied him closely with your arms crossed.
You’d known Michael for several years. Even considering the months you two had been apart, you knew he was the same—stubborn and hot-headed and full of audacity as ever. But…he also seemed genuinely remorseful. And desperate.
“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” he said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. “Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”
You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They were a crisp dark blue, and yet, not the warm green you’d come to crave. You shook your head.  
“I get it, Michael. I really do…but I can’t do this anymore,” you said. “It’s too damn much.”
You began to slip your hand out of his, but he held you a fraction tighter. He frowned. 
“Are you seeing someone? Is it that guy from the other night? That cop?” Michael asked. 
“Stop it,” you warned in anger. Beau was part of the reason your heart held pain, but it wasn’t the main reason you wanted to be done with Michael Hadley.
You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip. He wouldn’t let you, instead, trying to bring you closer. 
“That’s not an answer,” he said in frustration. “Please, we can start over—”
“Let go!” you demanded. You yanked your hand out of his, and the rest came on instinct. 
Your slap was loud against his cheek, and it made your hand sting too. You also pushed him hard in the chest. Michael was forced to step back while holding his reddening face. He looked back at you in disbelief. 
You were breathing hard, shocked even at yourself. You’d never done that before in your life, but then again, never had you felt the panic of a man holding you against your will. 
Michael’s brows furrowed. He called to you in a pleading tone, and he reached for your arm to placate you.
You quickly stepped back again on reflex. Your heel tripped on the tile floor and you gasped as you felt yourself careening back…onto the glass coffee table behind you.
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After putting his investigation of Avery to bed for the night, Beau felt drained on all counts.
He punctuated the end of his day by calling to check up on Frank Davis, the local firehouse chief, and the father of one of the firefighters who was killed a few months back. Brett, one of the other victims, had carried the guilt of his best friend’s death to his grave. 
Inevitably, that case brought up old memories for Beau. It also reminded him of you, and the situation with your firefighter ex-boyfriend. ‘Scuse me, ex-fiancé.
He also felt bad about how things ended with you in his office. He knew he wasn’t being fair to you. 
As his daughter reminded him the other night, if he’d just been a bit more “open” and honest, maybe he could’ve saved his marriage.
Now with Michael likely trailing you, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t come to him, or even call him for that matter.
He seemed to be a bit of a hothead too, Beau thought. While he climbed into his truck and peeled out of the station, he debated stopping by to see you. Carla and Emily wouldn’t be getting over to his place for a couple of hours. That did give him some time. 
And when it came down to it, was he a man, or was he a coward?
He knew it wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t try to make this right, in whatever small way.
So with that decision made in his mind, he drove over to your apartment complex. When he parked in one of the guest spots, he noticed another one occupied by a rental car, a gray sedan.
A small tingling of unease buzzed in the back of his mind. Beau approached your building, went inside, and started up the stairs. When he began to hear raised voices, a man and a woman who sounded too much like you, that gut feeling became a red hot alarm making his chest tighten.
He took the stairs nearly two at a time to get up to the second floor, where he saw that the door to your apartment unit was cracked open. He could hear glass shattering from inside.
He sprinted down the hall, and with a hand on his gun at his belt, he swung the door open.
The first thing he saw was Michael’s tall frame standing over you, frozen in shock. You were lying on your side amidst a shattered coffee table, fallen through the wooden frame. There was glass everywhere and underneath you, with magazines and pictures and other knickknacks strewn across the floor.
“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beau barked out.
Michael had turned at the sound of the door banging open. He met the sheriff with wide eyes. Beau’s expression set with a grim, angry frown. Though he willed himself to hold his temper in check, he immediately stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, pushing him back and creating space between him and you.
“Step back,” the sheriff snapped.
“Beau,” you uttered in disbelief. You had tears in your eyes at the sight of him.
“Hey, darlin’,” said Beau. His voice was still rough, but more gentle for you. He knelt down at your side and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist to help lift you off the glass.
“You okay?” he asked you.
“Y-Yeah.” Though you raised one of your hands from the ground and blanched at the sight of a sizable piece of glass embedded in your palm. Beau’s lips flattened into a line.
He paused for a moment, turning his head back towards Michael.
“Stay exactly where you are,” he ordered, in a tone that boded no argument.
And Michael offered none. He stood there with furrowed brows. He even looked on at you in worry and frustration, knowing he couldn’t help you. He could only watch the sheriff make slow movements to help you out of the glass.
“Okay, slow for me,” Beau said. He spoke to you in low, calming tones whenever you made a sound of pain. He hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you out of the coffee table’s remains.
“Easy, I gotcha,” he murmured, helping you sit on the couch. You folded your legs off to the side, so you weren’t continuing to step in the glass on bare feet. Besides your right palm, your arm and right thigh had a few bleeding cuts of various degrees.  
After making a short glance at a still concerned Michael, Beau turned to you.
“Did he push you?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t fucking push her!” Michael said. 
“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “But he did shove his way into my apartment.”
Beau’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Michael, and his gaze demanded an answer. 
“I just—I just wanted to talk! Obviously I didn’t mean for this. Goddamn it,” Michael said, wiping a frustrated hand over his face. “Are you okay?”
You sighed. Beau set a hand on your shoulder. 
“Do you want to press charges for trespassing?” Beau asked you.
“Oh, come on!” Michael exclaimed. Beau pointed at him with a hard stare.
“You pipe the hell down,” he said tersely. “And don’t you move a damn inch. Because if you do, so help me, it’ll just about make my day.”
He flashed the other man a look at the handcuffs (and the gun) on his belt.
Beau then returned his attention to you. You were attempting to pick the glass out of your hand. He stilled your movements with a gentle hand on your wrist. 
“Hey, hey, wait on that for me, okay?” he asked. You looked up at him tiredly. 
“It’s okay. Just let him go,” you said. You shifted your gaze to Michael. “Go back to Chicago, for real this time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Michael’s face became disheartened, but his eyes fell to your injured hand. Blood was streaming all the way down your forearm and dripping on the tile floor, along with the other smears of blood amongst glass. 
He knew what he’d done. It made him even more sick with himself.
He turned to leave.
You watched him go, and you could no longer hold in your quiet tears. It wasn’t for him leaving. You just couldn’t believe it had all come to this. 
Beau lightly squeezed your shoulder. 
“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t move.”
“Okay,” you said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.
Beau tried to give you a reassuring smile. He gave into the desire to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, allowing him to brush your cheek with his fingers. You gave him a small smile back, despite your watery eyes.
Beau nodded and got up from the couch. He made swift strides out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him. He then hastened down the hall and the stairs to catch up with Michael in the parking lot. Beau was hot on his trail to the rental car.
“Hey!” he called out.
Michael paused in his gait. He turned to face the sheriff, sporting a look of frustration.
“What?” he shot back.
“You better take her warning for the gift it is,” Beau said. He closed the distance between him and Michael, but resisted the urge to grab the other man and hurl him against the car.
“It’s time for you to go home,” Beau said. “I don’t want to see you in town. I don’t want to hear that you’re following her around or blowing up her phone. Do you hear me?”
Michael stood straighter, his jaw working in anger.
“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?” he asked.
“No. I’m thinking you’ll be smart enough to take some friendly advice,” Beau said, but his eyes were sharp. “If I have to threaten you, then we really will have a problem.”
Michael was younger, leaner, probably faster, but Beau edged him out by a couple of inches, on both height and build.
“Just let her get on with her life,” said Beau.
Fortunately, the standoff didn’t last long.
Michael’s anger soon relented, letting the guilt and shame shine through.
“Make sure she’s okay,” he said. “Tell her…that I’m sorry.”
Then he turned and walked away. Beau watched him get into his car and leave the premises.
It wasn’t until the rumble of the engine faded away that Beau released the clenched fists at his sides. He pivoted slowly on his heel and made his way back up to your apartment.
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And your door was locked.
On one hand, he understood your fears. On the other hand, he’d asked you not to move from the couch.
“Who is it?” you asked, after he knocked.
“It’s just me, don’t worry,” Beau answered. You opened the door with your good hand and let him in, while holding up your bloody one with a bunch of crumpled gauze and medical tape hanging down your arm. It looked like you got the glass shard out, but you were struggling on the “wrapping it up” part.
“Oh, sweetheart, I asked you to wait for me,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took your wrist and elbow to steady you.
“Yeah, well, I got impatient,” you replied, but your attempt at a smile lightened him too. 
Beau followed you to the kitchen sink and grasped your hand carefully. You’d already cleaned and sterilized the wound, so all he had to do was wrap it for you with some gauze and medical tape. 
“This is kind of deep. You might wanna go to the ER,” he said. “I could take you.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s really not that deep,” you replied.
“You sure?” Beau asked, frowning at you. “How you doin’? You okay?”
Your face had been tight with pain while he tried to get the wrapping right with deft hands. At his questioning, you softened with a wry smile. 
“I’m fine, more or less,” you said. “But…how…why were you here to begin with? How’d you know I was in trouble?”
Beau met your gaze for a moment. He was able to delay answering your question until he finished wrapping your hand. Afterwards, he sighed.
“I came to apologize,” he admitted. “But first, can I help you clean up around here? You just sit and relax. I’ll sweep up all this glass and mop the floor.”
You let out a long breath, your shoulders sinking. “Oh, Beau, don’t. You don’t have to do all that.”
“But see, I actually want to,” he said, giving you one of those grins you’ve come to know and expect. You couldn’t help but smile back.
“Okay.”
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A thorough sweep, vacuum, and mopping, then a couple of cracked open beers and an order of Chinese later (plus cleaning and patching up the rest of your cuts), Beau sat next to you at the dining table and officially made his apology.
“I’m sorry for how things turned out today at the precinct,” he said.
You shook your head. You’d had some time to think about all of that, and there were things you could’ve handled better too.
“Beau, look. I get it,” you said. “You’re dealing with a lot at work, with Carla and Emily too, and…really, we haven’t known each other all that long. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to open up on something that clearly still hurts you. Especially in the middle of your office.”
Beau let out a breath through his nose. He smiled and laid a gentle hand over your uninjured one, earning your widened gaze.
“You’re a sweetheart for that, but the truth is, you had a point today,” he said. “I’m a difficult man to know. It’s a flaw of mine that my ex-wife has pointed out several times. And even my daughter. Sometimes she looks at me like she can’t understand me.”
You bit the inside of your lip. You debated asking the question you wanted to ask. With his hand over yours, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, you were able to gather your courage.
“Does it have something to do with the reason you were in grief counseling?” you asked. “About your partner on the job?”
Beau nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah, it does. It has a lot to do with Randy.”
He took a moment, but you gave him the time he needed to find his words. Eventually he began to explain to you what happened in Houston.
How he’d been an upper-level officer dealing with a narcotics case. His partner, Randy Santos, had volunteered to infiltrate a drug cartel undercover. He stayed in the field for a few months longer than protocol, but he was so close, he’d claimed. One bust, and they could arrest the kingpin. The entire cartel would crumble.
Beau had backed him up with the Chief, against his better judgment. When the time came that Randy had helped arrange a drug deal, Beau was the one leading the squad on the bust.
“It went south so fast,” he said.
And he paused in his story for a moment. His eyes were far away, lost in memories.
You squeezed his hand over yours to bring him back. He met your gaze.
“When it got down to it, I had two choices,” he said. “Take out the boss, or take out the guy right in front of me, Dante. Now, Dante had his back turned. He couldn’t see me. Would’ve been fish in a barrel…but I went for the head of the snake. I shot the kingpin. I didn’t realize that Dante had already burned Randy. Knew he was a cop.”
Beau met your gaze then. “Dante shot Randy in the head, point blank.”
Your mouth fell open in disheartened shock. Beau took a long sip of his beer, wishing it was whiskey.
“I saw it all…in slow motion. Just like the movies,” he said. “I see it almost every night, without fail.”
You shook your head helplessly. “Beau. It’s not—”
“Not my fault?” Beau gave you a sad smile. “Oh, but it was. Nothing else to it. Bad leadership. bad police work. Bad friend.”
He continued to drink his beer.
“And I checked out,” he said. “My wife and daughter paid the price of my absence. Picking myself off the bottom of whatever crusty bar would have me that night. Refusing to go to counseling. Generally making an ass of myself.”
You covered his hand with your bandaged one. It got him to look at you and forget his beer for a moment.
“It was a hard call,” you said. “Anyone could’ve made the same one you did.”
“Yeah. And it got my best friend killed,” Beau said. “His wife, his ten-year-old boy, his parents. They’ll never be the same because I messed up. I can’t abide that.” 
He sucked in an unsteady breath. “It still…sometimes I wake out of a dead sleep, and I see his face. I see the body they brought back.”
His eyes were red and shining. The emotion in his voice choked you up as well, making your eyes sting. 
You raised a hand to touch his cheek, your thumb drifting tenderly across his chin. 
“You’re not a difficult man to know,” you said. A tear found its way down your cheek, and then another. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you care. About your team, your family, everyone…even messy, accident-prone women.”
You gave him a smile at the last bit. He was able to give you one back, through his own unsteady breath.
“Especially those,” he agreed. Your hand moved down to his shoulder. 
“And you also like to eat. A lot,” you quipped. “I think you’ve got about three stomachs.”
“Probably four, realistically,” he said with a tearful laugh. He wiped at his face with both hands. You waited for him to meet your gaze again before you continued.  
“You’re also an old-fashioned cowboy,” you said, with a brighter smile. Your hand slid down, this time to his chest, over his heart. “But you’re a good man, Beau. That, I knew from the very beginning.”
Beau clasped your hand where it lay on his chest, almost on reflex. He was sure you could feel his heart tripping up, double timing. He reached out for your cheek, guiding your face up to his. He leaned over slowly, giving you time to say no, whether with words or with actions.
But your eyes, though still a bit shiny from tears, were nothing but beautifully welcoming. So he took a shot. He began to cross the distance between your lips and his.
And his phone buzzed on the table, making both of you jolt. 
It was just a text message. Frowning, Beau looked over and read the preview. When he saw Emily’s name, he cursed under his breath. He reached for his phone and opened up the message.
Hey, where are you?
“Shit,” he said. “Emily’s been staying with me all week and Carla’s joining us tonight, to be safe. They’re there already, asking where I am.”
You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed beyond measure, but you nodded.
“Then you should go,” you said.
You squeezed his hand before you released him. Beau wasn’t happy about it either, but he did the same. He helped you clean up the dining table and gathered up his wallet and keys. You walked him over to the front door, where Beau debated how he should leave this.
The door was open, literally and figuratively as you leaned against its frame. You couldn’t hide your unease. You didn’t know where this left the two of you either.
Beau sighed and propped a curled finger under your chin, earning your gaze.
“I need to settle some things. After…” he trailed. You nodded at what he was trying to say.
“When Carla and Emily have stability again, we can talk,” you finished for him. “I’ll be here.” 
He looked at you in wonder. 
“You’ll really wait for that?” he asked. His brows creased, and he truly marveled at your patience with him. “You know you don’t have to.”
A smile curved your lips. “Something tells me you’re worth waiting for, Sheriff Arlen.”
Beau grinned at you fondly. He cupped the side of your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
“Well, thank God for that,” he said. “Really, thank you…”
Lord help him, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally crossed the distance and kissed you.
Your chest rose with your breath, but when your eyes fell shut, you couldn’t help but melt against him. You gripped the front of his buttoned-down shirt for stability while his fingers tangled in your hair. It all grew with heat when he tilted his head, tasting you deeper with each new kiss.
He pressed you into the doorframe, trapping your body with his. You held onto him like a lifeline.
While his hands drifted down your back and rested on your hips, bunching the material of your pretty yellow sundress, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. He felt your every curve, soft breasts and thighs and sweet sighs.
He released a sound of pleasure, deep in his throat. His lips veered away from yours to burn a slow trail down to your neck. He was satisfied by the way you moaned and struggled to catch your breath at his ministrations.
Your fingers wound up sweeping through his hair. It both soothed and aroused him, somehow. But Beau knew if he didn’t stop here, he wouldn’t be able to again.
He laid one last kiss under your ear that hinted with teeth, making you shudder. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. You two breathed together for a moment, just existing here, hearts racing.
“I gotta go,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You nodded, biting your lip. He pulled back further and thumbed at your lower lip. 
“Don’t do that, or I just might have to go back on my word,” he said, giving you a smirk.
You smiled in amusement. “Promise?”
Beau chuckled. He stole one more heated kiss before he withdrew from you, his hand lingering on your cheek. Heaving a sigh, you turned him around by his broad shoulders and reluctantly sent him on his way. 
Halfway down the hall, he slowed to look back at you. Seeing you leaning against your door, still catching your breath, all hot and bothered…it nearly broke his resolve.
“Nope,” he muttered.
He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking until he hit the stairwell for the umpteenth time today. 
He would stop three more times on the way to his car before he actually left your building.
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AN: 😘 So, how'd you like the official "end" of Michael Hadley? And finally, finally, we get to a first kiss. In Part 7, we enter some even deeper waters...
Next Time:
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”
“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”
Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.
“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.
“Okay,” you nodded.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Series Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
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@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons
@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow
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li0nn3stuff · 1 day
Text
Aemond apologises
English is not my first language, be kind.
Modern!Aemond x fem!Reader 
Part one: You and Aemond fought, so he invites at dinner another girl
Part two: You left Aemond on read.
Warnings: sex description, smut, oral (m, f receiving), kissing, dirty talk, tits sucking, chocking, softdom!Aemond
Since the first time, sex with her was always so good. Aemond doesn’t remember having ever met a girl that would fit with him so well in bed with him. He just loved having sex with her, because she was so dirty, even if she always acted like she wasn’t. She acted all innocent when her mind was filled with the most disgusting ideas. Aemond loved how embarrassed she was when he asked her to speak those thoughts up. He was up to everything if it was with her. She would mumble and call him ‘Idiot’ if he would then tease her, threatening him saying she would never speak up her thoughts again, get her face all red and look away from him, playing with her fingers as she stared at them.
Aemond then would have fucked her hard enough, doing what she just told him, taking away her capability of think so she would stop being so embarassed of her thoughts. She was always eager for him, always ready to male him feel good. She loved to hear his reactions to what she did to him, she loved to be phrased and reassured that he was enjoying what she was doing. He knew she had sex before him, and even if being reminded of that infuriated him, he kept in mind that she had gotten thousand times better with him.
Since she got confident with blowjobs, she would suck him off regularly, even getting the initiative out of nowhere, when he was reading or working from home, She would sneak between his legs and start touching him, looking up at him with those two big eyes of hers. At the start she made a lot of effort to take just half of him in her mouth, she was not used to his size, he was pretty big, he knew that and he loved to tease her with it. Now, she was able to take almost everything of him, using her tongue just perfectly, knowing what made him go crazy, and using it to her advantage. Not that he complained. Despite her attitude out of bed, she liked to be ordered and tossed around, she liked to be completely submissive to him, another thing he used to tease her out of bed, since she was so stubborn.
“You don’t decide for me! I make my own decision, and I do as I want.” she said.
“Oh, really? Yest you don’t complain so much when I tell you to get on your knees, or to lay still on the bed as I fuck you.” he mused. She would get so angry and start shouting at him, making him chuckle.
“On your knees.” he orders. She looks up at him and slides on the floor, getting on her knees in front of him as she keeps her gaze on him. He uses one hand to unbutton his pants as the other caresses her cheek, she leans her head towards his hand, as his thumb passes over her lower lip, pushing it down.
“Let’s put this mouth to a better use, uh?” as he slips two fingers inside her mouth, preparing her for what was about to come. She immediately starts sucking on them as she puts her hands on his thighs.
So easy.
He hated seeing her with Jason, seeing her smile at him, and talk to him, enough to get Jason the idea that she could be his, that he could have taken her to his house. She was his, and his alone. He will be the only one for her. Yet, he knew he had to apologize too. He indeed had been a dick with her, but the image of her walking away from him so easily was driving him nuts. She surely made him believe she didn’t care at all for him. He needed to remind himself  and her that she was his.
Aemond takes his fingers out of her mouth, quickly pulling down his pants  and boxers, stepping out of them, as she sits better on her knees, ready to welcome him in her mouth. He takes himself in his hand and he presses his tip on her lips, and she immediately opens her mouth and licks the tip, taking it inside her warm, wet mouth, sicking his tip. Aemond groans and he lets his head fall back, putting his hand on top of her head as she slowly starts taking more of him at every bob of her head.
“That’s it princess…” he grunts as he leans his head forward, looking down at her, seeing how good she looked with his cock in her mouth. He caresses her cheek with his thumb, then he puts his hand on her head, moving it himself, speeding up the pace. She twirls her tongue around his cock as it enters her mouth repeatedly.
“So good- Fuck, baby…” she groans as he pushes her head towards him completely, bending his knees so he can align better to her mouth, moving only his hips forward, as she tighten her grip on his thighs, digging her fingers in his skin, gagging repeatedly and squirming. Aemond keeps her like this only a second more, then he releases her, letting her catch her breath as he bends down to wipe the drool away from her chin, lifting her up, putting his hands under her armpits, throwing her back on the bed. He fists himself, his cock lubricated by her saliva, as he watches her.
“Undress. Now.” he orders, and she immediately complies. As soon as she’s naked, he grabs her ankle, dragging her at the edge of the bed, then kneels in front of the bed,  and he spreads her legs apart to accommodate his face between them so he is face to face with her womanhood. He gives her a lick over her entrance, going up to her clit, making her legs squirm slightly. He smiles and he puts his hands around her thighs to keep her still.
“Let me apologize for being a dick to my girl.” he says, then he puts his mouth over her clit, sucking softly, making her let out a breathy moan as she slips her fingers in his hair. She tasted so sweet, so perfectly, Aemond felt like drinking his favorite juice. He nuzzles his face further between her thighs, moving in from site to side, as she keeps moaning, pulling his head closer by his hair.
“Go-od, Aemond, oh, fuck-” she mumbles, moaning again.
“Could do this forever, baby, you taste so good.” he groans as he pulls away, giving her another lick, then pushing two fingers inside her, searching for that rough patch inside of her that he knows makes her legs shake.She lets out a loud whine as she convulses, and he knows he has found it. He smirks and he keeps rubbing her there with his fingers as he puts his mouth back on her clit, licking and sucking, and he uses his arm to keep her still, as her walls start to squeeze his fingers and her body squirms around.
“A-Aemond… please- I- I’m about to…” she mumbles, pulling his hair. He groans and he presses his face further, moving his fingers faster.
“Ah! - Aemond…!” her legs start shaking uncontrollably as he cums on his face, her walls spasming repeatedly as Aemond eagerly drinks everything that pours out of her, still moving his fingers lazily, riding her orgasm out. He pulls up as she crawls backwards on the bed, and he watches her again, drinking in the sight of her trembling naked body, her uncovered curves her full breasts, her plump thighs and her pretty face, just the perfection of her body as he fists himself again, as he slowly crawls on top of her, like an animal hunting his prey.
“Was my apology good enough?” He smirks, and instead of answering him, she just puts his hands on his face and pulls him down in a sticky kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. He takes a deep breath, as he kisses her back aggressively, pushing his tongue in her mouth, as he wraps his arm around her neck, as he aligns his cock to her entrance, pushing in in one firm motion making her pull away from the kiss, and leaning her head back as she arches her back, her face an expression of pure pleasure. Aemond goes down to kiss her neck as he thrusts into her with firm, rough, hard movements, her sobs music to his ear as he reaches her breast and he takes his nipple in her mouth and starts sucking it. He puts his other hand on her womb and presses it down.
“Do you feel me, baby?” he asks her as he runs the tip of his nose back on her cheek. She nods with her eyes closed, her head still thrown back.
“It’s me. Not Jason. Me.” he growls in her ear. “Say it.” he adds.
“You, just you… just you , Aemond.” She repeats. and Aemond speeds up his pace.
“Good, so good- Fuck.” he keeps grunting as she moans loudly when he quickens his movements, throwing her hands around his back, digging her nails on his back as she holds on to him as he keeps thrusting in her like a beast.
“You’re mine, aren’t you? -Fucking all mine- ah-” He presses his face in her neck, breathing heavily on her dump skin, as he breathes in her scent.
“You’ll come back to me- Doesn’t matter how many times I have to apologize-” He leans back and he puts his hand around her throat, her hands immediately covering his, as she opens her mouth as his cock starts rubbing that spot inside her. “You’ll always come back.”
He growls, speeding up his peace as she moans out loud, her eyes clenched shut.
“Yes- fuck, Aemond- Yes, I-I promise…” She nods eagerly at his every word, too lost in pleasure to even care what she was agreeing to. She might have thought this was just some talk during the passion, but Aemond meant every word. He would always have her back, no matter what he had to do.
“You’ll always welcome me back, mh?” He presses his nose on the side of her face. “You’ll always welcome me back in this pretty cunt of yours- Fuck, baby-” He groans outloud as he feels her orgasm around his cock, her long loud moan as her body starts tembling, her hands reaching for him to hold on to every part of his body. Aemond hugs her close, as he thrust a few more times as her walls keep squeezing him so good, that he cums with a low groan, hugging her tighter.
He kisses her cheek as she hugs him back.
“Mine.”
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Text
Thus Always to Tyrants
Chapter 2: Secrecy and Shadows
Gem is the commander of the Wintertide royal army, Grian is the leader of a resistance hell bent on taking the crown down no matter the cost. It was only natural that they would become enemies.
Chapter 1 -> next (tba)
Read on ao3 ❀ here ❀
CW: Alcohol consumption
Words: 5,682
Pov: Grian
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
“Head back to the hideout and wait for me there, Scar.” Grian addressed his companion. “I’ll meet you there later tonight to update you on the situation as soon as the meeting comes to an end and we’ll proceed from there.”
“So bossy,” Scar said, and Grian could hear the pout on his lips without having to look at him. Regardless of his (most likely dramatized) complaining, however, he did indeed leap from the roof to do as he was told, fading away into the shadows of the setting sun.
Grian waited a moment before dropping back down into the alley he and Gem had fought in, his cloak billowing up around him on the way down. It still smelt of smoke in the small space, though most of the visual remnants had cleared out by now. He pulled his hood back up over his head, hiding away his feathers and obscuring his features as best as the thick fabric could. 
There was at least a quarter hour of sunlight left in the sky, so that meant he had just as much time to burn before he was meant to meet with his someone who could make or break his plan. And he knew exactly how he was going to spend it.
He reentered the festival area, the overwhelming noise and smell bearing down on him in an instant. Grease, spices, perfumes, body odor, and more all punctuated by the ear ringing sound of laughter, bartering, and arguing. He could not claim to be a fan of any of it, nor could he claim to want to be here on this day, but, well, scheduling just works out in ways one does not like sometimes, and as a result he had no choice but to be out and about on a horrid day like this.
He made his way through the tightly packed crowd, moving fluidly between the warm bodies that stood between him and his objective. Grian was the average size and build of an avian of his kind, but he was smaller than the average person of any other race, so it was easy for him to maneuver his way through just about any obstacle, including the living ones.
He slid effortlessly into the shadows with his back against the backside of some kind of tent, likely a changing or storage area for performers. He peaked around the bend and spotted the Commander and her entourage immediately. They were alert and uneasy where they stood close to the stage. They monitored the area with careful eyes, ready for anything, for anyone. But he wasn’t just anyone. He had long ago learned to stay silent and hidden when he did not want to be found. His ears perked up at the sound of the Commander's voice.
“Patience, Scott. This is delicate information; I can’t risk letting it slip to the wrong person. We must wait for the arrival of his majesty before I am to utter a single word more on the subject.” She whispered, Grian’s ears just barely picking up on the quiet words.
“But if it is as grave as you appear to believe it is, I worry that we don’t have the time for you to wait for him to be present.” The blue haired man whispered back, though his pitch was louder than Gem’s, making him incredibly easy to hear in comparison. He did have a point, as well. If Grian’s plan really was going to take place sooner rather than later, she should be acting now. What was her reasoning behind being so secretive about it?
“No, Grian isn’t like that,” She interjected. Oh? “He wouldn’t tell me about a big grand plan and then immediately act upon it so soon after the fact. He knows I would be on high alert after something like that, so he will wait even if it means he gives us a chance to prepare, because the longer he waits the more likely we are to let our guard down. 
“Not to mention, we’ve not a single clue what we are even preparing for, and he knows that. If we rush in head on, even if he were to act right now, we would have no idea what we are getting ourselves into. No, If I had to guess, whatever it is he has planned will not take place until the King’s speech or even later after it. And that is assuming it has anything to do with the festival at all, which I am beginning to doubt. We have time, and we are going to use it to clear our heads of the initial panic and wait for the King.”
Grian let himself smirk at the assessment, impressed. She was right of course, just as she usually was. He wasn’t planning on doing anything just yet, and what he did have in mind for today was something she wouldn’t suspect regardless, nor was it something she could stop unless she knew where to look. He knew without a doubt in his mind, as well, that she didn’t know where to look.
“You know that I am not one to doubt your mind, but are you sure about this? We all know what he is capable of. Should we be taking the chance?” The taller man with the nubby horns asked in a nervous manner. 
Do you truly know what I am capable of? Grian wondered to himself, already knowing the answer.
Gem put her hand on the older man’s shoulder and said with sincerity “Trust me, old friend. I would not do anything I thought would put us, or anyone else here, in danger.”
This seemed to quell at least some of the man’s unease, because they fell into silence shortly thereafter. 
Grian knew that Gem was still anxious herself despite the confident front she put on in front of her group of knights; the way she shifted from foot to foot and glanced around while twirling a stray strand of hair hanging in her face was a dead giveaway of this. Not many would notice these nervous habits unless they were looking for them. In fact, he knew it was likely that she made attempts to hide these shows of weakness to those around her, and she hid them well enough. It was simply that Grian had spent far too much time observing her, and anyone else who might be a threat, to not notice them easily.
She was nervous, but she was good at playing brave and making sure everyone else's nerves were calmed; a skill that any good leader should possess. The crown really was lucky to have her on their side, Grian thought with a note of bitterness.
Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, here comes the king now.
The crowd, previously an eclectic buzz of ear grating noises combined into one, quickly turned to unanimous cheers and murmurs of excitement, though if he focused hard enough, he could also hear some poorly concealed comments of contempt from some festival goers that made him snicker to himself. The crowd turned almost as one, and Grian followed their gaze over to none other than King Ren himself. 
The thicket of people in the square parted to make way for the large, white horse which he rode upon. The stead was draped in riches almost as grand as his own attire, looking every bit the royal transportation that it was. Grian had to hold himself back from sneering at the way he held himself, back as straight as a board and head upturned so he was able to look down his nose at the common folk. 
His jewel encrusted crown sparkled in the quickly fading sun, scattering fragments of colourful light in every direction. His red, fur embroidered cloak looked far too warm, even for the chilly weather. His many rings looked expensive enough to feed a family for months with the coin you could get off of selling it. Even his stiff, well-tailored clothes looked more expensive than a vast majority of the exported goods sold in the clothing area of the festival. Overall, he looked just as pompous and over dressed as he always did.
At his side, holding onto the reins of the horse from down below, walked the King’s royal advisor and personal guard, Martyn. The man stood tall, his clothes just as uselessly expensive looking, but less stiff to allow him easy movement and covered by a layer of grey armour to protect his delicate weak spots. The strip of green fabric that was tied around his forehead looked more a hindrance than a help, doing little to keep his hair out of his face and only providing a way for sweat to gather and sit stagnant on his skin.
Gross, questionable fashion choice, but who was he to judge.
With the appearance of the two important men, Grian distanced himself from the stage and took to the roof tops beyond the stands and tents. He huffed as his talons made contact with the tiles and his knees bent back to steady him. He was not out of view by any means, but who would think to look to the roof at a time like this? They were all too drunk or occupied with preparing for the feast to care if they saw him anyway.
He watched the Commander march over to the King the second he dismounted from his horse and speak to him, her hands animated as she seemingly explained to him that they needed to talk. He waved her off at first, which Grian could see made her angry by the way her body became tense. Then his advisor put his hand on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. King Ren nodded and then motioned for Gem to follow him.
Grian jumped from one roof to the next as he followed Gem and The King to an area of the festival that was less occupied, his movements light and airy, but also quick and precise. Eventually they reached an unoccupied area behind the stands similar to the one Grian was hiding behind not long ago. The soldiers formed a semi-circle around them as they came to a stop, keeping an eye out and making sure no one got close enough to listen in on the conversation the two of them were about to have. They were very great at their job.
He settled into a crouch on one of the roofs near them, his talons curling under to grip onto the rafter in order to stop himself from falling. He had positioned himself close enough to hear most of what was said, but hopefully not close enough to be seen or heard himself.
“... warning, you say?” Ren asked, carelessly loud as Grian focused in on the conversation. 
“Yes, your highness” Gem confirmed with a nod of her head.
“That hardly makes any sense, Commander. What reason would he have to warn his enemies that he has a plan against them?” The King asked in a condescending tone that left Grian sneering at the sheer indignity of it.
“Your highness, I mean you no disrespect when I say it would be unwise of us to underestimate Grian. Odd as it may be that he’s come to us with a warning, it would do us well to take him seriously. We have no way of knowing the power and numbers he has, nor what it is that he is planning.” Gem said, her tone firmer.
“Or if he is planning anything at all.” Ren said. Grian could not see her face, but he could tell the Commander’s eyebrow twitched, a facial que that she was pissed. She took a measured breath before responding.
“It would be wise to be on guard regardless.” She said, tone even and steady, masking her anger fairly well. King Ren opened his mouth to argue, but then his advisor settled his hand on his shoulder yet again and he raised a jewel encrusted hand up to his chin, scratching at his beard. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything. Gem’s shoulders were tense.
“I trust you, Commander,” He finally said, “If it would bring you peace, tell the soldiers to keep their eyes open and increase the security in the streets. Do you believe he will try anything tonight?”
Grian perked up in delight. An increase of soldiers in the streets was not a good thing by any means, but it still meant a decrease in soldiers within the castle. That could work in their favour. What a pleasant outcome to his risky warning. He knew it was worth it.
“No, your highness,” Gem said, “It is unlikely he will make his move tonight, but I still believe it would be for the best if we tighten security, especially around the feast.”
“Have it be done than. If that is all, I believe I have a speech to make, do I not?  You’ve kept me from it long enough.” Ren said. 
Gem and her right-hand men bowed to the King, and with that he took his leave, the soldiers that had been guarding the area following after him. Gem and her men stayed behind for a moment, anger clearly stewing. She punched the stone wall behind her with a noise of frustration before bringing her hand up to rub the spot between her brows. Impulse tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and took the lead back towards the city square.
Grian knew he should be going. He was most definitely late for the meeting at this point, but surely it could not hurt to listen in just a little bit more. Who knows what he was likely to hear. He unhooked his talons and took off across the rooftops once more.
As he grew closer to the center once more, where the stage had shrunk in size and been surrounded with rows upon rows of tables that were overflowing with delicious foods, he jumped from the roof and onto one of the unattended, canopy covered alcohol stands. He sank into the surface, causing it to cave in the slightest amount. He pulled his talons into his core to avoid tearing the fabric apart and rolled towards the edge until he was on his belly overlooking the feast.
He had perfectly positioned himself on the stand next to the royal dining table, where everyone important or related to the king was sat eating the plethora of food. There were large kegs of alcohol atop the tables, rendering the stand he lay upon useless, so it was unlikely for anyone to approach it and find him. 
He watched as Ren made his way up onto the small stage, Martyn ever by his side. He began to talk, voice loud and domineering over the crowd as laterns all around them began to light up the growing darkness. Grian tuned the entirety of speech out, uncaring of whatever prattle was going to come out of his mouth. He knew he would gain nothing of value from it. His speeches were all the same, empty promises of safety full of nauseating amounts of self flattery. 
His attention sharpened as Ren raised a golden goblet of wine up into the air, “To another year of prosperity!” He declared.
Grian covered his sensitive ears as the cheers of the crowd grew far too loud for him to bear. He watched as the King made his way over to his designated table, marked by the grand, gold lined red tablecloth that covered the surface. He uncovered his ears when the noise softened to an acceptable, but still aggravating, level as everyone began to feast.
The King sat at one end of the long table, Martyn sitting to his left with cautious eyes. Gem sat at the other end, Scott and Impulse on either side of her; they were who Grian had positioned himself near. Scott, the one with the blue hair, looked peeved. He leaned in towards an equally as angry appearing Gem, his elbows on the table as he spoke to her. Grian closed his eyes and focused his sensitive ears to hear them among all of the noise.
“I just do not understand his unwillingness to listen,” Scott said in a tone just above a whisper. “He knows better than anyone where your skills lie. It would do him well to trust in your word and instinct when facing something unknown like this threat.”
“He meant me no disrespect,” Gem said, though her tone said she believed otherwise. “This is out of the usual for Grian. He may even be right, who is to say it is not just a trick he is playing on us all?” 
“But to dismiss it so easily-.”
“That’s enough, we’ll talk more after-.” Gem interrupted and the cut herself off, her eyes turning towards the roof tops.
Grian ducked out of view, though he doubted she would have seen him from where he was regardless. It was too risky to keep listening in when she was in some way aware of his presence, so he took that as a sign that it was best he be on his way. 
He looked around him and found that the sun had fully set at this point. The moon and stars were both high in the sky, meaning it was well beyond time for him to go. He rolled towards the edge of the canopy and slipped off with one easy motion, hitting the ground with a near silent clink of his talons. He kept hidden behind the booths until he rejoined the crowd outside of the town square. The flickering fire from the lanterns cast dancing shadows across the walls and the ground, creating a kaleidoscope along what was visible of the stone floor.
He reached the tavern in a timely manner and pushed the wooden door open. This place was usually more busy, but with the festival in full swing most would prefer to get their alcoholic fix in the streets where they could enjoy the festivities at the same time. Because of this, the spacious tavern was mostly empty, save for a few regular drunkards and people who had stumbled in to avoid the noise of the outside world.
It was dark inside, the few, scattered lamps that were lit around the space providing very little actual light. It was also filthy, with trash, food scraps, and sticky puddles of ale littering the floors and tables. There was a man slumped over one of the tables near the entrance, his hand still loosely holding onto an empty mug. He swore he spotted another man underneath a table near the back, but he chose to ignore it.
Grian made his way over to the bar, where the tender was stood rubbing the lip of a mug with a filthy towel as he eyed Grian with suspicion and murderous intent. 
“I thought I told yous to stop coming here after the last time,” The man said, setting the mug on the counter with enough aggression that it rattled the racks of cups behind him. “Yous is trouble, too much trouble.”
“I’m here to meet a friend,” Grian said with a smile, undeterred by the aggravation directed his way. The man did have a right to want him gone, after all. Last time he’d been inside of this establishment he’d started a bar fight that ended with Gem showing up and the two of them fighting. The damage done to the interior had been spectacular.  “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him around? About my height, maybe a little taller. Brown hair, green streak in the front. Perhaps he had gills and earfins?” 
“I have the right mind to call the guards in here right now, you know. Lotta nerve you’ve got showing up here to conduct your shady business.” The man said, crossing his arms.
“We both know you won’t, though.” He said, his grin turning into more of a smirk, “So, have you seen him?”
The bartender grunted, a sour expression on his face, before he pointed to the far corner of the bar, where a hooded figure sat at a large, round table all by himself. Grian gave the bartender a slight bow before heading over to where his potential ally was sat. 
The hooded man looked up as Grian approached, his green eyes reflecting the flickering orange light of the lantern that hung from the ceiling. He was nursing a mug of ale that Grian knew from experience tasted like warm piss on a good day, and based on his twisted expression as he took a sip, today was not a good day. Well, people didn’t come here for the taste of the ale anyway.
Grian pulled one of the chairs away from the table and spun it around so he could sit with his legs spread and his arms resting over the back. He was rewarded with an unimpressed look, for more reasons than one.
“About time you showed up. I’ve been waiting a bloody quarter hour.” Joel scolded, his sharp teeth on display.
“Sorry, Joel, I got a little caught up on the way here.” He said, choosing to leave out the part where he had been spying on Gem and her people.
“Sh! Keep your voice down, would you? Might as well just run into the streets and announce that I’m here while you're at it!” Joel whispered harshly, leaning forward with paranoid eyes. Grian rolled his own black eyes at the exclamation.
“Joel is a very common name, and you aren’t the only one with it. I can guarantee you that no one knows who you are. Even the hood is unnecessary.” Grian retorted, leaning forward to flick the hairline of the hood. Joel leaned back, glaring.
“You’re wearing a hood as well, you know.” Joel protested.
“Because unlike you, I am well known in this area, and I would be recognized.” Grian replied with a tilt of his head. He felt like that was obvious.
“Whatever,” He said, taking a swig of the drink in his hands as his eyes scanned the tavern, “Let’s get down to business before this place falls apart on top of us.”
“Oh, come now, it’s not that bad.” Grian said, waving his hand. He reached over and snatched the ale from Joel’s hands and took several hardy gulps. He licked his lips and slammed the mug down onto the table, “That being said, the owner very much would like to see me buried six feet under, so perhaps it is best we get this over and done with as soon as possible.”
Joel looked perturbed by the assertion and the theft of his drink but said nothing of either.
“So, tell me, what choice have you come to in regard to the plan?” Grian asked.
"She has agreed to the plan, and I’ve been officially assigned to take care of preparations for you. I will personally be coordinating everything over the course of the next few weeks. It should all be in place just in time for the New Moon, just as you asked.” Joel said, posture straightening as he spoke.
“Excellent news!” Grian said, taking another drink of the alcohol and wiping the foam off of his lips with his shoulder, “I will arrange for a place for each group to camp out until the night we make our move.”
“I was just going to ask about that. I have already taken the liberty of renting out one of the vacant shops in the market district under a fake name. I already have a group here who accompanied me on my journey, so I will have them base there, but the shop is not nearly big enough to occupy the number of people you have requested.” Joel said. He eyed the mug Grian had stolen from him, and Grian slid it back over to him. Joel frowned when he saw how much Grian had drunken from it, squinting at him over the lip of the mug as he took a drink himself.
“Leave all further housing to me, I will take care of it.” Grian said. He briefly wondered if he should order his own ale but decided against it. He didn’t need to give the bartender more reasons to be angry with him.
“You can expect the second group of men and women to arrive by the end of next week. They will be disguising themselves as the family of my men already here, so be on the lookout for merchants selling glass.” Joel said.
“Give them word that they should head to Big Bakeries once they’re inside of the Capital and ask for the secret recipe. He will send them my way and I’ll get them settled.” He said, reaching over for the mug. Joel let him take it, and he deflated in disappointment when he found it empty.
“I’ll be sure to pass along the message,” Joel said before slapping his hands on the tabletop and pushing himself up into a standing position, “You made me wait too long, so I’ve got to be on my way. I’m on a tight schedule if you want things moving smoothly. Is there anything else you need from me?”
“I think we’re done here unless you need something from me,” Grian said, moving to stand as well when Joel shook his head ‘no’. He kicked the leg of the chair to spin it around to its proper placement and pushed it in, “It’s been both a pleasure and an honour doing business with you, I look forward to our future interactions.”
“You know how to get into contact with me if you need to,” Joel said, fixing his hood so that it properly hid his face.
“And you, me. If the usual avenue doesn’t work for whatever reason, you may also find me through the same method as your men, or you may also reach me through the inventors on Tinker Avenue. All you have to do is tell them you are there to watch when they ask what you need.” Grian said.
“Gods, I forgot it was your reach that tipped us off to your existence. It’s disturbing how many connections you have within the city. It makes one wonder what you need our help for at all.” Joel said, eyeing him.
“We are many, but there are hardly enough of us to lay siege to an entire castle all on our own. Your assistance is as greatly needed as it is appreciated.” Grian said. Joel nodded in understanding and then rounded the table to stand near him. He held out his hand and Grian reached out his own to shake it, careful to not scratch the man with his sharp nails.
“I was here much longer, so it only makes sense that I will be the one to head out first,” Joel said. Grian nodded and let go of the man’s hand, watching as his ally departed from the tavern. 
He waited what he hoped was an appropriate amount of time to avoid appearing like he was following Joel out before pulling a bag of coins from his belt and tossing them towards the bartender. He caught it with a nasty look and tucked the bag away under the counter. He pointed towards the door and Grian rolled his eyes as he saw his way out before he could be thrown out.
As he entered the night air, he shivered a bit. Though it was only fall right now, it was already growing colder by the day. Winter would be upon them in no time. He would have to remember to inform everyone that they should wear warm underclothes once the fated night arrived.
The festival was still well in effect at this point, the jovial sounds reaching his ears and the smell of the food making his stomach rumble. He hoped their joy would last after his plan was enacted. He was doing it for them, even if they didn’t know it. While he had faith that everything would go well, especially with the news that their sister kingdom, Coral Crest, was on their side, there was always the ever-looming threat that things would go wrong.
In any case, he needed to get home to tell Scar the good news and give him a new task. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he exited the town, the noise finally dissipating to a low murmur before disappearing entirely and being replaced by the near silent sounds of crickets and wind ruffled leaves. He hurried through the trees to the location of his and Scar’s main hideout, one only they and Mumbo knew about, and looked around to ensure he wasn’t followed. Not that it really mattered. This place was completely guarded by magic, but one could never be too safe when you lived the life Grian did.
Once he was sure he was alone, he entered the cave hidden among the boulders and trees, and carried on further until he reached a split in the long tunnel. He came to several of these twists and turns until he finally reached the cavern he had been calling home for many years now. It was small, the interior only about the size of the average house, illuminated naturally by amethyst and some species of moss that grew along the ceiling and ground. There was a hammock in the corner for him to sleep in, a few chests scattered around the area, and a table that held a pitcher of water and piles of papers, both used and unused, in the center of the room.  The left wall was entirely covered in papers with his messy handwriting on them, along with diagrams of the castle; all of his planning throughout the years.
Few people knew that this place existed. It was safer that way.
“Scar.” He said, his words echoing in the dark. He let out an exacerbated sigh when he received no response. He raised his voice, “Scar!” 
“So impatient,” A voice said directly beside him. He didn’t so much as flinch, having had years to develop an immunity to the Scar’s bullshit and antics, “Give me a chance to respond!”
“Coral Crest has agreed to help us during the new moon.” Grian got right to the point. “They’ll be sending groups of soldiers to us over the next few weeks until then, so we’ll have to be ready for their arrival. Can you safeguard a few houses?”
“Anything for you, my delightful birdie friend.” Scar said. A meow reached Grian’s ears and he looked down to find Scar’s familiar rubbing against his leg. She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he reached down, gingerly taking her into his arms before standing again.
“And while you’re at it, do me a favour and safeguard the glass shop over in the shopping district as soon as you can. There are a few Coral Crest allies stationed there already, and we wouldn’t want something happening to them.” Grian tacked on, scratching Jellie under the chin with the tip of his talon, as gentle and careful as could be though he knew he could not hurt her. She purred in his hold.
“Consider it done.” Scar said, and then continued with a satisfied grin, “The pieces are falling into place just as we hoped they would, aren’t they?”
“We’ve prepared for this day for nearly a decade. There is hardly any room for anything to go wrong.” Grian stated matter-of-factly, settling Jellie down on the ground.
“Let us hope that things keep going our way then.” Scar said before he and Jellie disappeared just as suddenly as they had showed up, no doubt getting right to work with the things Grian had tasked Scar with. Scar may be a bit on the carefree and goofy side from time to time, but he was also quick and efficient, especially with Jellie by his side. It would be taken care of by morning, Grian was sure of it.
All he had left to do until Joel arrived with more of his men in the coming week was go over the ground plans with his engineers, but that could wait. He pulled his cloak off of himself and discarded it on the chair by the table before heading over to the swinging hammock that hung from the lower parts of the ceiling. He climbed into it with practiced ease, folding an arm behind his head and settling the other on his stomach with his feet hanging over the edge. For now, he would sleep and await the new day. 
He smiled a true, sincere grin up at the stone ceiling. Soon it would all be over, and this living nightmare would finally, at last, come to an end. Scar was right, everything truly was falling right into place for him.
Gem froze mid-sentence and turned her head at an unnatural speed towards one of the alcohol booths off to the side of the table. Her mouth snapped shut and her brows furrowed, lips twisting into a confused and foul expression.
“What is it, Gem?” Impulse asked, leaning back in his chair to look in the direction she was.
She hesitated for a second, eyes trained on the darkness. There was nothing there that either she or the boys could see, but still she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something, no someone, there. She, against her better judgement, turned her attention back towards her meal. She couldn’t let that encounter with Grian drive her mad with paranoia this early on. She had to be on her A-game, and that included not jumping at the shadows.
“It was nothing,” She said, ignoring the growing pit of unease that had yet to leave her. She only hoped that her words held true.
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zhounauts · 2 days
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SYNOPSIS kim minji was privileged. and she was your best friend. born to the top percent, she was born to go to decelis academy, a school built by and for the elite. yet she wasn't. you were instead. and you were attending as her. GENRE mystery, rich kids au!, slight romance, angst FEATURING YN LN, MEMBERS of NEW JEANS, MEMBERS of ENHYPEN, MEMBERS of IVE, AND MORE WC 3.45k WARNINGS cursing, lying , mentions of food, death A/N VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY experimental fic, lmk how it is
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THE BEGINNING OF IT ALL —
elite.
that was what decelis academy was. an academy built by and for only the most privileged and elite in the entire world. money, power, and status ran deep in the school, evident in its gold embellishments on the wall, crystal chandeliers and the tall, high ceilings.
decelis was known world-wide, a prestigious school for academics, sports, art, and everything else you could think of.
and it was where you were now enrolled, taking the place of your best friend kim minji who had run away.
decelis was a school meant for only the elite and privileged. that was rule number 1, and you had already broken it.
july had always been hot and humid, the sun blaring down onto you, not faltering. but this year, it seemed even hotter than before. it felt like the entire world was on fire, it felt like your life was at a boiling point, reading to overflow, and bubble over.
and on july sixth, it did.
“i don’t want to go to decelis,” minji whispers, “i don’t want to leave everything behind,”
“minji. . .” you trail off, “listen, i get it. you’ve been here your whole life, but it’ll be okay, it’s just a new, fresh start,”
“i can’t stand it,” she says quietly, “i can’t handle all of that pressure yn. i’m not insanely smart, insanely athletic, or anything like that. i can’t live up to those standards. those kids are going to eat **me alive,”
“minji—”
“i wish i was like you. you’re smart without having to study, you’re athletic you’re*. . .”* she stops “you’re everything decelis wants.”
“oh come on, don’t dismiss your own achievements. minji, listen i get it’ll be hard for you to adjust—”
“it won’t have to be,” she suddenly says, excited. “yn, you are everything decelis wants!”
“so?”
“swap with me,” she begs, “you are everything they want,” and in the scorching heat of early july, the boiling point of your life, your world boiled over. you were going to decelis. you were kim minji.
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maybe you should’ve thought out this idea a little more before committing to it, because now that you were sitting in the front of minji’s car, acting as her chauffer, you can only shift nervously. the two of you constantly send glances at one another in the rear mirror, unable to say anything with both her parents in the car.
you’re ready to dip, yet you know you can’t betray your best friend like that. you knew how minji was. she was kind, sometimes too kind, and you knew a school like decelis was definitely not for her. but it also wasn’t a school for you. you weren’t rich. you weren’t elite. sure you had the skills, but when it came to background? you’d be eaten alive if you were found out.
yet, this was also a good opportunity for you. in fact, this would let you take classes from some of the top professors and teachers in the world, and you’d have access to opportunities many others could only dream of. the plan was simple, as a ‘chauffer’ you’d help minji unload her bags, escort her in, rush into the bathroom, swap outfits and be on your merry ways.
minji had told you that she’d be leaving for a flight promptly as soon as she got home, planning to go to America and meet up with an old friend to pursue her dreams of being a dancer. you knew how much minji loved dance, and while her parents supported her in it as an extracurricular, a hobby, they absolutely refused for her to go professional. you’d heard it one too many times, from all the times you’d hung out with her.
“it’s an unstable job, there will always be someone younger, someone better than you,”
“dancing will not make you successful in life,”
“you aren’t good enough anyways to be like the pros,”
ouch, you think to yourself, recalling the insults they had thrown at her. her parents were harsh. they were stereotypical as well: strict, stubborn, unmoving, unloving. in comparison, you didn’t have parents. they had passed long ago, and you had been passed on to your mother’s then twenty-two year old sister.
she knew about the plan, you had fought with her over it. yet, you didn’t back down and the day before you left she wished you good luck, pulling you into a tight hug, whispering to you things you could not understand.
“stay safe, stay low, don’t step out of line, don’t be like ahra,”
the mere gate of the school leaves you in awe, it’s incredibly large, with the decelis enbelm in the center of it all. your heart races. you watch as the two men in front of you open the gates, revealing a long pathway, nestled in a large amount of trees.
driving up the driveway only makes you more and more nervous, making you gulp in fear. you check on minji in the rear mirror, and you can see how scared she is as well. she doesn’t look at you, but by the way her eyes goggle at the school, you can tell she’s intimidated. you’re not sure, how long you drive up the winding path for, but the school is even more amazing.
it’s sat on top of the hill, so incredibly large, practically a castle, and you can see even taller buildings behind this main one. you pull in slowly into porte cochere, a ton of other fancy cars pulling in as well. you watch the students who step out, all of them dressed in the same uniform, only with different patches and symbols marking your year. they’re all chattering and smiling with one another. you gulp.
“chauffer?” mister kim calls out.
“right, sorry! miss minji, let me get your bags for you,” you quickly hop out of the front of the car, adjusting your cap and wig, and heading to the back. you watch as minji approaches you, scanning the school around her. she would only be going to decelis her final year of high school. her grades had always been average, and because of that her parents were always too ashamed to send her to develop. yet after one more try at the entrance exam, which you had actually done for her, they finally sent her, or well, you.
belift academy was not a bad school, ranked top fifty in the world still, yet her parents wanted her to reach new levels, to meet other kids in her circle. you pull out her luggage, setting them onto the ground, scanning the school yourself behind your sunglasses. you watch as minji’s parents approach her, talking to her. you can only watch them from the side. they don’t hug her, they only lecture her.
“mister and missus, i’ll help miss minji take her bags in, and i’ll be straight out,” the two of them nod at you, only staring at minji. you grab ahold of her two luggage, trying to pretend they aren’t heavy. as soon as the two of you enter the school, you search for a secluded place and dash to it. the two of you had practiced this earlier today, and you quickly slip on her uniform, the blazer, skirt, socks, and clunky shoes. you stare at minji, you can barely tell its her, with the stupid sunglasses and goofy wig.
you bring her into a hug.
“thank you so so so much yn,” she whispers, “i don’t know how i can ever repay you,”
“just be happy, and achieve your dreams,” you smile, “you can repay me that way,”. you pull away from the hug, and the two of you stare at each other one last time. you grin. “i’ll be fine minji, update me as much as you can,”
“of course,”
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the school is huge and despite being in your final year of high school, you’re still a new student, so you head to the orientation, sitting in the new students section. you analyze everything, your eyes scanning the crowd to see someone you could talk to.
“are you a third year?” you whip your head around quickly, staring at three girls who stand behind you. they’re dripping in luxury, shimmery jewlery, polished hair, and glossy lips. if it were not for minji giving you her things, you would’ve looked incredibly out of place.
“yeah, i just transferred here,”
“i’m kim chaewon,” she starts, “my parents own kim food corporation,”
“danielle marsh,” the other girl says, “my parents own hyundai, plus i’m from australia”
“and i’m hwang yeji!” the third girl says, “my parents own TOI media,”
okay. holy fucking shit. you think to yourself. “nice to meet you!” you exclaim, putting on a smile, “i’m. . .kim minji. my parents own WQ group,”
“ooo!” chaewon chirps, she smiles, “your third year of high school, but first year here?’ she asks. and despite the kind smile on her face, you know she’s analyzing you.
“Yeah, I guess it is kinda weird,” you shrug, “but i’m here now and that’s all that matters,”. the three girls stare at you, and nod. yeji claps her hands together and smiles.
“find us after the orientation! we’ll be outside waiting for you,”
you watch as the three girls skip away together, and as nice as they seem you know that deeper down they’re judging you. they’re assessing you, seeing if you live up to the standards first, then if you’re worth keeping around. you grit your teeth. you had been here for less than twenty minutes, yet you knew you’d have to play it safe, keep a low profile. and most importantly, keep that smile on your face and act like you were just like them.
you meet the three of time as soon as the orientation ends, and as promised they’re standing outside the large auditorium. danielle gives you a smile, “so, where’s your dorm room?”
“uhm. . .” you mutter, taking out your sheet of information, “it says i’m in summa hall,” the three of them whistle.
“you must’ve scored high on the entrance exam,” you nod, sweating at the memory.
“you never told me that i’d have to take their entrance exam minji!” you hiss.
“you’re academics are better than me! and plus you’re the one going really,”
“aughhh!” you exclaim.
“what does summa mean?”
“it’s latin, summa cum laude, with highest honor. and then theres magna cum laude, which is with great honor. then there’s what we just call cum laude, with distinction. then at the bottom is Infimus, which just means the lowest,” she explains, “and you, minji, are in summa meaning you’re one of the top in school,”
“impressive,” chaewon whistles, “most kids enter their first year way lower, and work their way up. it’s amazing you did it in one try,”
“that entrance exam was hard though. . .” you mutter.
“guess not hard enough,” yeji laughs, “all three of us are in summa,”
“right, yeji’s rank 7, chaewon 6, and danielles 5,”
“the ranks are based on the entrance exams everyone takes before school starts, they can change after ever marking period though, based on popularity, and extracurriculars” yeji groans, “it’s hard to maintain, but the benefits are endless. plus! the summa dorms are the nicest, so enjoy it!”
yeji was right, the summa dorms were top tier. you never knew another bed could be even comfier than your own back at home, and the fluffy pillows were to die for. summa dorms only had twenty rooms, ten for the top girls, and ten for the top boys. you were still unsure where you were in this whole caste like hierarchy, you didn’t really care, the bed was enough to keep your mind off things.
you wake up at the ass crack of dawn, five thirty in the morning, to get ready. you knew impressions were everything at this school, and even walking by those of the lower ranks, they were dressed up as well. you sigh, looking at your closet, filled with minji’s things. you sigh. this was going to be a long first few weeks.
by the time you’re done with your makeup, hair, accessories, and all, it’s already seven forty, meaning breakfast would be served at eight. you grab minji’s backpack, shuffling out of your room, your shoes halfway on.
“you new?” you hear suddenly. you whip around, to see a second-year boy, standing in front of a dorm that’s six doors down. you jump.
“uhm, yeah?” you analyze him, head to toe. he’s decked out in expensive jewelry as well, and you gulp underneath his stare.
“and you dethroned leeseo ,” he grins.
“what? who?”
“well her name’s actually lee hyunseo, she was the number one girl, but now you took her place,”
“i’m. . .what?”
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“danielle i’m number one?”
“you didn’t know that??” she asks, staring at you wide eyed, “what do you think the numbers on the dorms meant!?”
“w-what the!? i thought they meant just your room number! like suite one or something!” you exclaim, “i didn’t know! and now who the hell is lee uhm lee hunsoo???”
“you mean lee hyunseo??” danielle says, fake shuddering, “she’s a bitch. she’s been number one ever since first year, she’s been in that room for years,”
“shit,” you mutter, “i don’t want enemies!”
”oh please, don’t worry,” danielle says.
“i am worrying. . .” you murmur, but danielle ignores this, only dragging you faster to the dining hall. you can’t help but think have the worst feeling in your gut that this lee hyunseo, leeseo, girl wouldn’t let you take her spot so easily.
“ooo! fresh build-your-own omelettes! minji hurry up!”
being a summa means essentially all your classes, except for electives, are seperate from everyone else. you have the better classes, better teachers, and overall better programs, and it makes you feel absolutely gross.
despite having yeji, danielle, and chaewon now you still didn’t trust them. sure they were nice to you, but that was only after they knew who your supposed parents were, after you had revealed you were a summa to. you trail behind them, danielle by your side chattering to you about some trip she had taken to aruba a couple months back. and while you could care less, you nod and give short responses, letting her chatter on.
all the summa classes are in the north building, in apollo hall. you can feel the difference in atmosphere as soon as you set foot in the hall. it’s much quieter in comparison to the rest of the school, it’s decorations even more intricate, and the school’s motto is engraved into the ceiling.
Sapientia Potentia Est.
wisdom is power. . . you gulp. danielle pulls you slightly, nudging you to hurry up. you want to laugh at how untruthful the school’s motto seems, sure wisdom was power, yet in decelis that wasn’t the case. wisdom wasn’t power.
money was power in this school, and while wisdom would get you somewhere, in the end it all boiled down to your background. you look at the motto once again, engraved in the door above your classroom. you scoff.
the classroom is suffocating. despite the friendly chatter going on around the classroom, you can feel the difference almost immediately. as friendly as these kids were acting, behind their smiles, their laughs, they were all watching one another carefully.
and all eyes are on you, the new student, kim minji, who placed first in the entrance exam, and was now ranked number one in the entire school. this was not the lowkey life you had originally planned for yourself, and you realized that because of this you were going to be noticed. you would be under a spotlight.
fuck. . . you think to yourself, sighing. you bury your head into your arms at the classroom’s seats.
“kim minji?” you look up only to meet eyes with a girl you’ve never seen before. she’s pretty, really pretty. her hair is glossy, her lips and cheeks are rosy, her lashes are long, and she’s also decked out in dainty, yet glimmering, expensive jewlery. you look at her, discreetly looking at her nametag. lee hyunseo.
“yes?” you answer sweetly, smiling, “you’re, leeseo right? sorry i’m still new,”
“yes, that’s right,” she smiles a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “i’m lee hyunseo, but you can just call me leeseo. congratulations on your entrance exam score,”
“thank you,” you tell her, “it was a really difficult test,”. you put that stupid, sickly sweet smile on your face again, not showing any emotion. you’ve gotten used to reading others. you were a scholarship kid at belift high, the only one in fact, and ostracized. you weren’t rich enough to afford anything at belift, and because of that you were judged. it got even more intense when you became friends with minji, who was well known in the school. you knew leeseo’s facade, what she truly implied. she was feeling you out, establishing you as her competition.
“it is,” she says, “i hope you enjoy your stay in the number one dorm, it really is as nice as others say, amirite?”
“yeji told me about it and i didn’t believe her,” you answer promptly, “i was truly surprised,” she nods.
“don’t get too comfortable,” she laughs and then she walks away. that was a threat. enjoy your stay, but you’re going down
“man. . .she’s intense,” chaewon mutters, “making her move already,”
shit. you think to yourself. leeseo had said little, but the meaning behind it said so, so much.
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your original had been simple. stay low profile, make a couple friends in the lower ranks, pass classes, join a sport, and live your life here.
it was simple.
but fate had other plans for you. you were now the new girl who had scored the top grade in the entrance exam, shoved into the spotlight of the entire school alongside with other elites of the school. as much as you wanted to keep it lowkey, it was all too late now.
you weren’t going to back down now, especially since leeseo was high-tailing your ass. even if she didn’t directly say it, you knew what she meant. it meant more than just getting her rank back, she was going to bring you down as far as she could. she was threatend.
for some reason, the thought makes you laugh. you were poor, if she knew where you really were from she’d laugh at you, and step all over you. the fact that some girl who had it a thousand times better than you was threatened and jealous of your presence made you happy.
“kim minji?” you turn around, to see the boy you had talked to earlier in the morning. you recognized him from some of your classes as well. he smiles at you.
“yes. . .?’
“i’m kim sunoo,” he smiles at you, “i’m a second year,”
“ah, nice to meet you. i’m minji,”
“right. . .i’d like to be straightforward with you,” he says, and you stare at the boy. he has an oval face, fox-like features and his hair’s styled down. he has a friendly face, but his eyes say otherwise. he wants something. “i don’t like leeseo,”
“. . pardon?” you blink.
“you heard me,” he sighs, “i don’t like her,”
“and. . .?”
”you’ve taken her spot,” he smirks, “i can help you keep it,”
the offer hangs in the air, it’s unexpected, strange, suspicious even. you find yourself caught off guard by his proposition, and you can only stand there, unsure of what you should do. his straightforwardness startles you, and the way his eyes gaze at you makes you nervous.
“keep her spot?” you repeat, trying to remain nonchalant, “what do you mean by that?”
sunoo laughs “you know exactly what i mean, kim minji,”
“right. . .”
“i know how she operates,” he says, “she’s not as innocent as she seems. she's ruthless. to other’s she’s just another stuck-up girl, but now that someone’s really dethroned her, she’s scared now. she’s going to do something,”
“and why are you helping me? what do you gain from all of this?”
“i have my own reasons, kim minji,” he says. there it was again. kim minji. it rolled off his tongue in a way that irked you, and the way he constantly repeated it made you fidget. it made you think he knew something, yet you couldn't be sure. “don’t wonder about me too much. i’m helping you, giving you a warning,” you narrow your eyes at him.
“who ever said i wanted to keep that spot?”
“why wouldn’t you want to?” he asks, you watch as he looks around, scanning your surroundings. he leans in close next to you, his mouth right next to your ear. you gulp.
“hey what—”
“and plus, it was your mother’s spot,” he whispers.
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DECELIS BOYS TOP 10 —
??? 6. ???
??? 7. ???
??? 8. ???
KIM SUNOO 9. ???
??? 10. ???
DECELIS GIRLS TOP 10 —
KIM MINJI 6. KIM CHAEWON
LEE HYUNSEO 7. HWANG YEJI
??? 8. ???
??? 9. ???
MARSH DANIELLE 10. ???
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a/n spring break = no school = time to write = clear head to write new ideas and stuff = no writers block
literally grinded this all day without stop cause i had nothing else to do, ngl i'm proud of it, but at the same time idk what i want to do with it so like. . .??? + like i said in first a/n this is a very experimental fic and i prob won't continue it, but anyways PLEASE share thoughts on this
networks @a-dream-bookmark
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9th doctor x reader - made for each other
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Hello! So, I saw that you wanted requests for the 9th doctor and thought I would jump in cause there are not enough fics for 9. I was thinking something where companion reader is injured and 9 nurses her back to health and during that time they admit their feelings for each other. If that's something you would be interested in. - @padawancat97 💜
You couldn’t really remember what had happened, or how you had ended up so badly injured, but you did remember the sounds of the doctor above you, saying you’ll be alright.
You were crying, hand clutching tightly at your side, breathing heavily as you rested your head on the wall behind you.
The doctor was knelt in front of you, one hand pressed over yours on your side, his other on the side of your face.
“I know… I know sweetheart.. I know…” he whispered.
The doctor took his screwdriver out, scanning your side, and he did something that made you scream in pure agony.
“I’m sorry! It’ll help!”
“Make it stop…” you begged weakly.
The doctor looked at you, and he wiped some of your tears away with his hand, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I will, I promise I’ll make it all go away…”
The doctor looked behind him, then he turned back to you, running his knuckles along the skin of your cheek, offering you a gentle smile.
“You’re going to be good as new, I promise…”
He looked behind him again, down the hallway to where his TARDIS was, and he looked back you.
“Are you ready for one last run?” He asked softly.
You nervously nodded your head, and he gave you a little grin.
“Of course you are… you always are…”
The doctor placed your arm over his shoulder, his hand pressing tightly on your side.
“Ready…”
He gave a small countdown, and hauled you up which made you cry out in pain and he immediately began to apologise to you.
You both made your way to the TARDIS as fast as you possibly could, the doctor could feel your blood running through his fingers.
He threw the door open, helping you inside and slowly sat you down against the other door.
“I need you to stay awake, okay? Stay awake, keeping looking at me.”
You nodded your head a little bit.
“Good, okay, okay I’ll be right back okay?”
You nodded against.
The doctor ran to the console, his eyes flicking to you, making sure that you were still watching him like he told you to.
He saw your head falling just a little bit.
“(Y/N)?”
The doctor glanced over.
“(Y/N)?!”
He slammed his hand into a button to send the TARDIS into flight and ran back over, taking your face between his hands.
“No, no, no, no, (Y/N)?! Hey! Hey look at me!”
He picked you up, running you through the hallways, finding any suitable room he could set you down in and he came across his room first.
He quickly and carefully laid you down on the bed, throwing things out of his wardrobe until he found whatever he could to help you.
Covering your chest with his quilt he tore you shirt, so he could get better access to your side.
The wound wasn’t deep, but it was big, and still bleeding.
The had the TARDIS scan your heartbeat and use the audio system to let him listen to it, making sure that it sounded normal.
Placing a bandage on your side, the doctor was carefully when it came to covering you back up, and he grabbed a bowl and a cloth, cleaning the blood he had gotten on your face and the blood on your hands.
He didn’t even notice the blood on his hands, or on the floor, he was so focused on you.
Making sure to get every speck of blood from your skin.
The he just laid in the bed next to you, head on his arm, gaze solely fixated on you, running his thumb along your cheek, listening to the sound of your heartbeat throughout the room.
After a few hours of laying there he finally got up to clear the blood from everywhere else, shower, and change his clothes.
He ket the TARDIS in flight, that way nothing was able to get to you, and wherever he went in the TARDIS your heartbeat followed him.
It was almost soothing, hearing your heartbeat wherever he went, but he spent most of his time just laid next to you, watching you.
He kept a close log of everything, the healing rate of your wound, your heart rate every few hours, your temperature, whatever he deemed as important.
He eventually brought the TARDIS to a land a few days later, a quiet planet, away from everything and everyone where he could focus on you.
Finally you woke up while he was at the console, the TARDIS let him know that you were awake and he ran straight to the room.
He came to a near crashing halt in front of the door, stumbling through it as he looked at you.
“(Y/N)!”
He rushed over, scanning you with his screwdriver, looking at the results, then back to you.
“Are you okay? Are you in any pain? Do you need anything?”
He kept rambling questions to you, and you reached up, placing your hand on his arm, getting his attention and he quickly stopped.
“I… water…”
“That I can do!” He grinned.
He ran out of the room again, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of water.
The doctor set it on the floor, and he opened it, then placed his hand on the back of your head to lift it up, helping you take a drink.
He set your head back down, putting the lid back on the bottle before turning to you, kneeling next to the bed and resting his arms on it.
“How’re you feeling?” He asked gently.
“I’m okay…”
He nodded his head.
“I’m so sorry I.. I never thought… I didn’t…”
You smiled, reaching your hand out you placed it on his head, running your fingers down to the side of his face.
“It’s okay… it’s not your fault…”
“I should have never taken you there (Y/N), never. You got hurt because of me.”
You moved your hand, lightly flicking his forehead which made him frown, rubbing the sore spot.
“I got hurt because I touched something I shouldn’t have… that’s not your fault doctor…”
He sighed a little bit, resting his chin on his arms.
“I’ll take you back home when you’re better.”
“You better not or I’ll kick your ass.”
He laughed a little bit, smiling softly up at you, and you placed your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his cheek.
“Do you want anything to eat?”
You thought for a moment.
“Not yet, I’m kind of tired, but then can we have chips?”
“We can have whatever you want.”
The doctor would bring you food and drinks to your bed, he refused to let you get up for the first few days, he changed your bandage regularly and helped you up if you absolutely needed to get up.
After the first few days you could sit up, you couldn’t walk far on your own, and you couldn’t stretch because you’d pull at your wound.
You were sleeping with your head on his chest, he was running a hand up and down your arm.
“I’m hungry…”
“You’re always hungry. What do you want?”
You turned your head to look up at him.
“Can we get burgers?”
“We sure can.”
He kissed your forehead and gently moved you aside so he could head to the console, and you yawned.
Getting up you grabbed a discarded jumper of his, pulling it over your head, slowly walking over to console.
You took the steps one at a time, hand on your side as if that was going to help the pressure.
“Hey, hey you shouldn’t be walking when the TARDIS is moving.”
He walked over, holding his hands out to you, and you took them, letting him help you down the rest of the steps, and he sat you down.
“It’s dangerous and you could get hurt.”
“Everything is dangerous.”
“I know, but you’re already hurt, I don’t want to make it worse.”
The doctor waited until the TARDIS had fully stopped, then he walked over to you, holding out his hand with a bright smile.
You smiled back softly at him.
“Now, let’s go get you a burger.”
You placed your hand in his, letting him lace his fingers with yours as you guys left the TARDIS.
He gestured to the whole area around you both.
“Pick wherever you’d like.”
The doctor kept a watchful eye on you as you looked around, slowly wondering around, looking for somewhere to eat.
You finally found a McDonald’s and you decided to go there, so the doctor sat you down at a table, and he listened as you told him exactly what you wanted.
You were softly kicking your feet back and forth, head resting on your arms as you waited for him to come back.
You were watching him stand in line, and when he glanced over at you you smiled at him which resulted in him smiling back at you.
He brought the food over, you ate, and decided you wanted to go for a walk, which the doctor agreed to under the strict condition that you two didn’t go to far from the TARDIS.
You happily agreed to this, just content with your hand in his, slowly walking around just taking to him about everything.
Eventually the pain in your side came back, and you stopped walking, placing your hand on his chest to stop him.
“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He whispered.
“It’s my side…”
He nodded his head, and crouched down in front of you, letting you climb onto his back and he stood up again.
“So what should we do? Carry on? Or go back?”
“We should go back, you can’t carry me all night. I’m sure you don’t want that.”
“Oi! Who says I can’t and don’t want to?” He huffed.
You laughed softly, resting your chin on his shoulder.
The doctor tilted his head to the side, resting it on yours.
“You can’t seriously carry me all night.”
“Is that a challenge? I’ll do it, I’ll never let your feet touch the ground again.”
You laughed, and he grinned a little bit.
“Come on, where do you want to go?”
“I don’t care, as long as you’re here it’s alright by me.” You said softly.
“Why’s that?” He asked.
You hummed a little and shrugged.
“Because I like you.”
“Course you do! What’s not to like?” He grinned.
You smiled at him, turning your head so you could kiss his cheek and you went back to whatever where ever he was going.
“Thanks for taking care of me…”
“I’ll always take care of you sweetheart, always, above all else you are my first priority.”
“Really?”
“Of course! I’d be pretty lost without you (Y/N).”
You laughed a little bit, wiggling slightly to let him know that you wanted to be put down, so he carefully set you down.
You walked around him, taking his hands in yours.
“My beautiful, amazing, (Y/N)…” he whispered.
He freed one of his hands, placing it on the side of your face, and you leant into his touch.
“I will always be there to save you… no matter where we are… I’ll always come and find you…”
You smiled.
“I know you will…”
The doctor studied you for a moment, the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the way your hand fit in his so perfectly.
He remembered everything else as well, the fact you always hugged him, you always kissed his cheek if you were going away somewhere without him.
You looked at him and you just admired him, you looked at him for who he was, you knew him.
“I love you.” He whispered.
You stared at him in shock.
“What?”
A grin slowly spread across his face.
“I love you. I love you!”
You laughed, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and he held you gently.
“I love you too…”
The doctor twirled you both around, then he set you back on the ground, quickly leaning down so he could capture you in a kiss.
A kiss that neither of you would admit that you had both been thinking about for a long, long time
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bitethehnd · 2 days
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omg i’ve had the biggest brainrot over ur naomi & taylor!reader & rewatching the eras tour i have 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ thoughts
i can imagine reader! having a chat w naomi when they’re ready to make it official and actually tell everyone they’re together (god knows everyone’s figured it out but shh let them have their moment) & reader! asks if they can make it official during the show but doesn’t tell Naomi how,, they’re just like trust me it’ll be good and naomi is like ok !! anything for u !! & during karma reader! sings “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” & they somehow get naomi’s live reaction on the big screen megatron thing of reader fully making it official to everyone mid show and they’re just in AWE
& in the same show when reader! sings “you’re in love” they do a lil speech about how this song was written for someone else completely and after everything that went down, they hated this songs because it brought back so many bad memories (or something) but now they have someone who makes them feel like this song is the reason for existence again and it just cuts to lil naomi sobbing aAAA i truly love that fic so much i still have so many thoughts about it thank u thank u thank u
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ you are in love
pairing : naomi mcpherson x popstar!reader
a/n : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN KISS KISS
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at this point during your eras tour, the two of you are already together. you think you’re all sneaky but literally everyone knows… naomi looks at you like you gave them the moon so it’s quite obvious, but everyone lets you two have your fun!
the first people you told were obviously katie and jo. they both had fake surprised looks on their faces but said the two of you deserved to be happy. then ensue the countless jokes and comments from jo.
the boys were thrilled too! since phoebe had also opened for you, she had taken a guess that you two had a thing for each other and then her suspicions were confirmed. julien fist pumped naomi and lucy gave you a big hug!! you guys are adorable fr.
next came telling the world about the relationship. you two held off for a few months, wanting privacy, but it seemed twitter was already aware of it. everyone had their theories and some were so outrageous that you just wanted to tell everyone yourself.
you told naomi your feelings on the matter and they immediately agreed, no questions asked. they were ready to show you off and not have to hide. you suggested doing it during your next show, and like anon said, naomi is just like “whatever my princess wants, she gets!!! anything for her!!”
you quickly put your plan into motion. you decided your surprise song for the next show would be “you are in love” from 1989. it perfectly described how you felt about naomi. you came up with some ideas for the speech you would give before hand and it went something like this…
“the next song that i’m going to play is one that i haven’t performed in so long. i wrote it about someone who i thought was going to be my forever, but it just didn’t end up that way and it left me with some sad memories. i have never felt the need to play this song since then, but now everything has changed. even if i originally wrote this about someone else, my partner renewed it into something so pure and now has a reason to exist again. i love you.”
the camera doesn’t pan to naomi just yet, since you wanted to build suspense. for dramatic effect, of course. but jo and katie make sure to get their reaction on video. it’s just naomi basically happy crying and laughing with tears under their eyes. even when you guys are a whole stadium apart, the invisible string between you is there.
when it was finally time for the last era of songs, from midnights, you were planning to do a lyric swap in “karma.” the actual lyric was “karma is my girlfriend,” but obviously naomi was not a girl and the song originally wasn’t written about them, you planned to change it to something that made you happier. when the time came to sing “karma,” you looked right into the vip section where naomi was and sang “karma is my baby on the screen, coming straight home to me!” cut to the camera panning to naomi and they’re just giddy, laughing and crying all at the same time. when you told them you were going to make it official, this is definitely not how they imagined it, but they weren’t complaining.
you just wanted to show the world your love for them and honestly didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. the two of you just existed in your own little bubble, feeling like you were just singing to them.
after the show was over and naomi practically sprinted backstage, their beaming smile lit up the room as they saw you. they pulled you in for a fierce hug and pressed gentle kisses to your forehead.
“that was the sweetest thing in the entire world, baby. i love you so much.”
“so you liked it? it wasn’t too much?”
“never. that was, like, magical. can’t believe you did all that for me.”
“i’d do anything for you, nom.”
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© bitethehnd
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C.G.H: The ring
A/N: I’m gonna cry, I love need to find myself someone like her 🥹
T/W: You might fall in love with my wife
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I looked at Caroline with tears in my eyes as i nodded. The tall Norwegian woman was standing in front of me on one knee with probably the most flashy and expensive looking ring I had ever seen. “Ja, Caroline!” I said as I was jumping up and down in excitement. Caroline stood up and picked the ring up from the box as she placed it on my finger. “Fits like a glove, Kjære» She said as she kissed my hand. I suddenly recognised the ring as I gasped ruining the bliss of the moment. “This is a Cartier ring?” I said as I looked closely at the ring. “Yes, we can always get it back exchanged if you don’t like it, I can even get you another one. Just tell me and I’ll tak-“ she begun rambling not being the one to fuss about prices or money. I had grown up poor, and I was right now wearing a ring that costed more than my grandparents house. “This was expensive Caroline! You shouldn’t be spending so much of your hard earned money on me!” I stated as a gasped. Caroline hugged her body into mine and embraced me while she kissed my head. “When it comes to you, I don’t look at prizetags, Skatt”
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The next morning we got up to work as usual. We had been together for only a year leading up to this engagement, but Caroline had suddenly figured out that she wanted to get married and she wanted kids. If that were to happen while she was still young, then she had to act quick. Caroline wasn’t really keen on marriage when I had met her which was seemingly obvious as she was 30 years old and has yet to have a girlfriend. We still hadn’t told anyone about our relationship at all. She had made a somewhat anonymous post on her instagram earlier, but nobody picked up that it was me on the picture.
The girls were chattering away as I entered the warderobe, silently going to my cubby while putting my cleats on. Caroline slipped in a few minutes later just like we always did. Ingrid and Mapi was chattering about if they were to get a dog or a cat next while Alexia was in one of her moods. I was tying my hair up when I heared someone vocal a shock as everyone turned silent. I turned around to see Alexia pointing to my hand. “Aios mio! That’s a ROCK!!” She screamed while holding up my hand. “Look at the size of this rock!! Where did you get it??” she screamed as she adored it. Caroline was looking somewhat proud in her corner but she didn’t speak. Ingrid then put two pieces together and came to the realisation that it was in fact an engagement ring. “It’s- Are you engaged?” The Norwegian screamed overly excited while jumping up and down. The intensity of the room increased as everyone was waiting for an answer. I nodded and the girls broke out in cheers and applause. “Who is the lucky one?” Ingrid asked as she looked closely at the ring. I hesitated for a second, “alexia” I said jokingly. Alexia turned around and laughed as she was in on it “si, jealous Ingrid?” Alexia spat out. “That makes sense, it looks like something none of us could afford!” Ingrid states. “I didn’t even knew you had a boyfriend! Congratulations doll!” Ona said as she inspected the ring closely. Alexia laughed “well, If we need someone to help us win, we will just let Benedicte tackle them. That monstrosity of a rock can take an eye out!” The girls all laughed as I laughed with them and shook my head. I taped up my ring and then we ran out for practice.
The practice was rough, and I had to skip to the warderobe as I forgot my waterbottle. When I entered, I saw Caroline getting ready for her physio appointment. “Well look at that pretty girl with that pretty ring” she said as she smiled and reached for my hand. She kissed it and I giggled. “What would your boyfriend say about this huh?” She said as she kissed me quickly as I smiled into the kiss. I loved her silly side, but she rarely showed it to anyone but me. “MAMMA, MAM-“ I turned around and there she was in all her glory. The daughter of Mapi and Ingrid. She definitely was Mapi’s daughter as she was way too curious for her own good. Me and Ingrid grew up together, so I knew the toddler well. “MAMMA, TANTE BENEDICTE KISSED CARO” the toddler screamed as I chased her down the field to her parents. “SHHH” Ingrid said as she tried to shut the toddler down. Mapi was standing next to her shocked. “No, no Caroline, that’s not cool! She got engaged dude, that’s disgusting!” Mapi said as she spat out her words. Ingrid smacked her in the back of her head. “Are you dumb or did someone drop you on your head as a child?” She hissed as the situation now had caused the girls to stand around us. Caroline was behind me laughing hysterically and i was red as a tomato.
“Caroline, you should be laughin-“ Mapi started again but got cut off by Ingrid. “Use your braincells please” she said as she shook her head. “What? Oh-“ Mapi trailed of as she realised it. “Benedicte is engaged to Caroline you absolute baboon” Ingrid said as she shook her head not believing that her partner could be this amount of oblivious. Everyone started cheering, congratulating and we all celebrated on the field together.
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Graham95 One of us is gonna have to get a new jersey.
Liked by 284.937 and BenedicteGraham.
Ingrid_Engen: The cat is finally out of the bag! Congrats 🫶🏼🫶🏼
GuroP: The newest Norwegian powerhouse.
Marialeonn16: I’m oblivious but obsessed
BenedicteGraham: That will be you xx
Graham95: We’ll see about that.
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BenedicteGraham imagine moving across the world only to find forever in another Norwegian.
Liked by 963.373 and Graham95.
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musings-of-a-rose · 2 days
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Falling Slowly - Chapter 9
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Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 3500+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: So I thought this may be the last chapter. It's not. Because I'm me.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Falling Slowly Masterlist
Tommy Miller Masterlist
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Raiders. I’m honestly surprised it’s taken this long for someone to find us. But I thought, or assumed we’d be mostly ok, hidden as well as we are. Joel and Tommy are always extra careful whenever they have to venture out further than our property to scavenge, making sure they aren’t followed. But they’ve only seen people once and that was years ago.
Sarah and Jax move quickly into the hall closet where Joel and Tommy had made a secret hiding place behind a back panel. Tommy hands me a shotgun and squeezes my hand, trying to reassure me that it will all be ok. But I don’t see how it will be. 
The cabin is silent, but getting louder is the unmistakable sound of a truck, no, trucks. Joel and Tommy exchange a look, moving to stand by the front door but well hidden behind the shutters. Rose and I wait in the hallway, staring at each other as we listen as hard as we can. The trucks park and we can hear muffled voices getting out of them. Joel peeks through the slot on his side and whispers to Tommy, but I’m close enough to just hear it. 
“It’s Mr. Jones.”
Mr. Jones? The man who sold us this cabin? We should be ok then, right? I chance a glance around the wall and watch as Joel’s posture changes, his face hardening even though his back is to us. 
“He’s with the Raiders.”
Why is Mr. Jones with raiders? Was he captured? Why would he come here, to a cabin he’d sold us long before the outbreak? 
“What’s the move?” Tommy looks at his brother, waiting to see his reply. Joel stands another moment, watching the men get out of the truck outside. 
“Just follow my lead and stay quiet. If it goes south, take the kids and the girls and get out.”
“I won’t leave you-”
“Tommy.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but a firm warning, and by his silence, I know Tommy complied. 
Joel takes a deep breath and unlocks the door, carrying his shotgun loose in his hands, pointed down, but still ready to go if needed.
“Hey, Mr. Jones. It’s Joel. Joel Miller.” 
There’s silence for a moment before he replies. I have to strain to hear him properly. “Holy shit! Joel? It’s really you?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh! Wow, never would’ve guessed. Everyone make it out ok?”
Joel pauses for a moment, like he’s thinking how to best reply. “We survived the outbreak.”
A chuckle. “Well that’s amazing news!” There’s a slight lull in the conversation, a heavily weighted pause.
“Can I help you all with something?” Joel asks.
“Ah. Well see, I’d forgotten about this cabin, having sold it to you so long ago. Well, it feels like a long time ago. So much has happened…..anyway, I remembered we were setting it up to be off grid and I hoped you all had continued that, maybe have some supplies? I didn’t think you’d actually be here.”
“What supplies do you need?”
“All of them.”
There’s a more weighted pause before Joel replies. “Yeah, I can’t help you with that.”
“Well now, I think you can.”
This isn’t like Mr. Jones. Not the sweet man and his sweet wife who just loved the Miller brothers. Mrs. Jones especially adored Tommy, as she often told him he reminded her so much of a brother she had lost when she was younger. I can hear Tommy grip his gun harder and I glance at Rose, both of us locking eyes in the understanding that we may have to book it down the escape route rather quickly if things escalate. 
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones. I would be happy to trade with you, but I can’t just-”
“You know, the only reason you’re still alive is because my wife loved you guys so much. Tommy especially. He reminded her so much of her brother Gabriel. She wouldn’t have wanted anything bad to happen to you.”
“Is she ok?”
Another pause. “She…didn’t make it past outbreak day.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She was a good woman.”
“She was. But, now you see my predicament. I don’t want to hurt you out of respect for my wife. And I’m assuming you have a lot of resources, considering I’m fairly positive your brother and your kids and wives are all hiding here too.”
“So what do you propose?”
“There’s no need for bloodshed here. There are many of us and a few of you. Still, I wouldn’t want to upset my wife.”
“Alright then. You and your men can just go and we’ll forget it happened.”
“Ah, well. I do have responsibilities to my men too. They also have families and needs…how about this: we leave you all here with your supplies, but you and Tommy have to come work for us. Only when we need you. We could use your construction expertise but also your, apparently steady trigger fingers.”
A long pause. “Can I have a moment?”
“Absolutely. We’ll be here, in good faith.”
“In good faith.”
Joel’s heavy boots tap against the floor as he moves back inside, gently closing the door almost shut behind him, his peripheral trained on the men he can see through the crack. Joel calls to use and Rose and I join our men in front of the door. 
“Well?” Joel asks, looking at all of us.
“How many men are there?” Rose asks. “I’m a pretty good shot.”
Joel shakes his head. “There’s at least 10. And they mentioned families so I think if they didn’t return, more would come.”
“We could just leave? Throw a few things in some backpacks and head out the tunnel with the kids?”
“And go where, Daisy?” Joel’s dark eyes meet mine. “There’s nowhere around for miles and these raiders are bound to go looking around. Not to mention the damn infected. We can’t give this place up.”
I know he’s right, but still. It had to be said.
“I don’t like this, Joel.” Rose takes his hand and squeezes it. “I don’t want you gone for God knows how long.” 
Joel lifts her hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. “I know. But we have to do this to take care of you. All of you. Tommy?” Joel looks at his brother, but I don’t have to look to know what his response will be. Tommy will do anything to protect Jax and I, no matter what.
“Yeah. We gotta protect ours.”
Joel nods at Tommy. “It’s settled.”
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It was almost 2 weeks before they came back, just one vehicle, Joel and Tommy gathering up their backpacks, nerves visible in their features. Joel went around back to grab another tool bag and Rose and Sarah followed him. Jax was still asleep upstairs and Tommy had already said goodbye to his sleeping son. He slides his arm through the other strap and I adjust his flannel shirt, picking at it in an attempt to do something other than cry. 
“Hey.” Tommy lifts my chin with his finger and gently presses his lips to mine before pulling back to look at me. “I’ll come back. I promise.”
“Please be careful, Tommy. I love you so much, I can’t…I can’t lose you. Not again, I-”
“Hey, darlin’. I love you too. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
He pulls me to him and I nuzzle into his chest, inhaling his scent, letting it permeate my brain as it tries to memorize everything about him. But then Joel walks back inside, handing Tommy another tool bag before moving to the front door. 
“Be safe.”
“You too.”
Rose, Sarah, and I stand together in the doorway, watching Joel and Tommy get into the truck, not knowing when they’ll come back.
Or if.
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The first few times they went, they helped the raiders build some additions to their compound, fortifying their defenses and just general maintenance and repair. I had asked Tommy if no one there knew how to do any of this, as it seemed pretty odd that in a compound of the size they discussed, that no one knew how to do something as simple as switch out a doorknob.
“Yeah, normally that would be odd. Except, they’re all rich people.”
I look up at him from where I had been snuggling against his chest. “What?”
He nods. “Yeah. Before the outbreak, all of these people had money. I’m talking loaded. Lots of them telling stories about it. So they’re not used to doing things for themselves.”
“So the rich people are raiders?”
He shrugs. “Guess maybe they couldn’t cope with doing without. So they just started taking.”
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About 6 months in, the raiders come to collect Joel and Tommy, this time for an actual raid. They promised they’d be careful, looking out for people and clickers. But I don’t like it. It was bad enough them going to help the raiders build their home. But this?
They don’t return for nearly 2 weeks. 
Before, they were gone at most 4 days. Byt the end of the 2 weeks, Rose and I were ready to go charging the base and probably would have if it wasn’t for Sarah and Jax. 
They returned in the middle of the night, the kids fast asleep. Rose and I were still awake, having a hard time sleeping without them here. But the sound of a truck was unmistakeable in the quiet and we carefully headed downstairs, peeking out the slot in the shutters that Joel had looked out before, making sure it was really them. Joel and Tommy hopped out of the truck, slinging their bags over one shoulder without so much as a glance behind them. But my initial wave of relief at the sight of them quickly was replaced by concern as Tommy gets closer and I can see the hunch in his shoulders, his eyes on the ground. Something had happened. Something bad. Rose opens the door and Joel steps inside, Tommy following behind him as Rose closes the door. They drop their packs and kick off their boots, stowing them in the little baskets we had placed by the door.
“Tommy?” I reach for his hand but he snatches it back, not quite meeting my eye.
“I need to shower.”
I was stunned. He had been on some dirty construction sites, even building for the raiders, and not once has he never kissed me when he came home. Out the corner of my eye, I see a similar conversation happening between Joel and Rose, Joel following Tommy upstairs. 
“What the fuck happened?” Rose whispers to me, her eyes on the stairs where Joel had just been.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem good.”
I pop my head in the kid’s room, checking that they’re still asleep. I should stop calling it the kids room as Sarah is nearly 20 now. But they’re both so attached at the hip, I forget that she’s so much older than him. 
I close our door behind me, hearing the shower click off as I kick off my house shoes. I sit on the bed, quietly waiting for him. Tommy emerges from the bathroom, towel slung low around his hips, his hair wet and curly, sticking to his neck and forehead. He turns to the dresser and grabs a pair of boxers and puts them on, tossing the wet towel in the basket. He sits next to me on the bed, still not looking at me. It’s almost as if he’s..ashamed?
I cup my hand to his cheek and lift his face to mine and immediately have to choke back tears at the look of defeat in his eyes. “Hey. I love you.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I love you too.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to give details. But fuck, Daisy, I…we had to do some shady shit and I don’t…But it’s to keep you safe so I will, but-”
“Hey, hey,. It’s ok. We can just leave. We have the truck and we have more time now so we can load it up and-”
He shakes his head. “Joel’s right though. They’ll come looking for us. Especially now.”
“What do you mean especially now?”
Tommy looks down, picking at his fingers. “We were good at our job. Joel more than me, but they liked how good of a shot I am.”
“Tommy. Look at me.” It takes him several moments but he does, his eyes watering. “I love you. I love you no matter what, ok?” He nods but like he doesn't believe me. I place my hands on either side of his face and pull him to me, pressing my lips to his. 
And to my surprise, he melts into me, one hand coming up to tangle in my hair, the other gripping my hip as he deepens the kiss. He turns his body, pressing me down into the bed as he lays on me, kissing down my neck, goosebumps erupting down my arms. I know this isn’t a healthy way to cope but it seems to be what he needs and honestly, I need him. I need to hold him, know he’s here with me, solidly here. He pushes his hips against mine, my back arching as he nips at my neck, his hips rocking faster and faster, chasing his high. His hands are everywhere, sliding over my skin, gripping me, touching me, his lips drawing paths across my body. My fingers tangle in his curls, my legs wrapping around him, urging him deeper, faster until finally lights erupt behind my eyes, my whole body tingling as I moan his name, hearing my own echoed back at me as his hips sputter against mine. He presses his forehead to mine and takes a few breaths before he pulls out, allowing me time to use the bathroom first. When he’s done, he slides into bed and pulls me to his chest, wrapping his large arms around me, my back pressed into his broad chest, his nose in my hair. 
“I’m here if you want to talk, but I’m also here if this is what you need. Whatever you want, I’m here, Tommy.”
“I know. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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Every time they leave, I swear a part of them doesn't come back. Joel seems more aggressive. Not to us, but just...angrier. Tommy's shoulder's slump, his smile often not reaching his eyes, staring blankly out at the trees as he relives whatever horrors he's had to do.
It's when the last bit of life in his eyes snuffs out that I decide I need to do something.
I'd always told him he could talk to me and sometimes he did. I know he hasn't told me everything they've had to do, and I don't expect him to. I've asked him to leave before, but he always said Joel never would. That he couldn't leave his brother. But after 5 years, it finally took that last little bit of him I had left. I couldn't continue on like this. We couldn't continue on like this.
I come back into the cabin, washing my hands in the kitchen sink, before I head back outside, walking down through the trees to the dock, knowing I'd find Tommy sitting at the edge of it, glass of water clutched in his hand as he stares blankly out at the water, a million miles away.
"Hey, handsome." I sit next to him, gently placing my hand on his thigh and giving it a light squeeze. He blinks rapidly a few times, coming back to present before looking at me, smiling slightly.
"Hey, beautiful."
I place my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb over the bit of stubble that had grown in the last few days. "Are you here with me?"
His dark eyes meet mine and he blinks. "I am."
"Come with me?"
He cocks his head slightly to the side as I stand up, offering my hand out to him. He takes it, the warmth from his large hand seeping into mine as I lead him off the deck and back into the woods, down a path he'd taken me years ago. Albeit I was blindfolded, but I'm not bothering with a blindfold this time.
It had taken me a few days to figure it out, setting up the tent and blankets just like he'd done for our anniversary not too long after...well, after. I thought for sure he'd know where we're going but if he does, he says nothing, his fingers still laced with mine as we walk around trees and over roots. When the clearing appears and he sees the tent, he stops walking. I look back at him and am met with a blank stare.
"Tommy?"
"What..what are we doing here?"
"I thought it might be nice to get away for at least a night."
His jaw clenches. "Shit, did I miss our anniversary?"
At least he remembered why we had been here before. "No. I just...come sit with me?" I take his one hand in both of mine, pulling him slightly towards the blanket I had spread out. He pauses for a moment but then acquiesces, kicking off his boots and stretching out his long legs on the blanket. I kick off my own boots and sit next to him, hesitating before taking his hand again, feeling him lace his fingers through mine.
"I love you, Tommy."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
I told myself I wouldn't cry, that I'd be strong. But when I looked at him, his eyes staring at mine, and I couldn't see that light, I lost it. Giant drops fell from my eyes, splashing against our entwined hands.
"Hey, hey Daisy. What's wrong?" He drops my hand to place it on my cheek, cradling my face with both hands.
"I..can't...can't..."
He pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me and I finally feel safe, secure, like he's fully here with me in this moment. It takes me a few minutes to calm down, but he's patient with me, always so patient, just holding me and letting me sort myself.
"We have to leave, Tommy."
He doesn't move, still for a long moment and so I sit up, drying my tears on the back of my hand.
"Daisy, we can't. I told you, Joel won't-"
"Every time you guys leave, a part of you doesn't come back. I know you're having to do terrible shit, more terrible than the crap you've told me about. And I've supported you as best I can, but Tommy, I feel like you're finally slipping away from me and I can't pull you to me, and I can't lose you, I just can't. Not again. I won't survive it."
"Oh darlin'. I'm right here."
I look up at him. "But that's just it. You're not. Even when you're here, you're not. This last trip. Something took the last bit of light from your eyes and I-" a sob ripples up from my throat and Tommy immediately pulls me to him again.
"You said you're protecting us. But who's going to protect us when you're gone, Tommy? Even if you're alive, you can still be gone. Please. We have to go."
A drop of water hits my cheek, but it's not my tears. I turn my head up and see tears freely flowing down Tommy's cheeks. This time it's my turn to hold him, press him to my chest as he cries. It's several long minutes before the sobs stop, the tears finally drying. My fingers are still tangled in his curls, gently patting him and lightly scratching his head. He sits up, wiping his eyes on his arm.
"I'm so sorry, Daisy. I thought I could handle it."
"Hey. You're so fucking strong. Most people would've cracked by now."
He smiles weakly. "I would have, if it weren't for Joel." His face falls. "He'll never leave, Daisy. He's convinced this is the safest option."
"Tommy, we can't continue on like this forever."
He nods. "You're right. I gotta take care of my family and that's what I'm gonna do."
"What if Joel won't come?"
"He won't. I'll make the offer to Rose and Sarah, but I'm sure they'll stay. But we'll still go."
"You sound like you have a plan?"
He's quiet again, his eyes going far away for several moments before looking back at me.
"Actually, I do. I've heard about this freedom fighting group called the Fireflies."
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oceantornadoo · 20 days
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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in
“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.
“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.
“‘ello?”
“si- simon, it’s me.”
“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.
“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.
“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”
9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.
suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.
“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.
twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.
“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.
“you win.”
fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.
“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.
“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”
“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.
“we’re not together anymore, simon.”
“you’re still my wife.”
silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.
“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.
“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.
“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.
----
idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately
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kingkonoha · 4 months
Text
𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈
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♡ — FIND PART ONE HERE . . .
♡ — SUMMARY: After what happened to you & your son, Satoru couldn’t stop drinking . . .
♡ — CONTENT: fem! reader, canonverse, violence & blood, reader celebrates Christmas, mentions of food, Gojo not eating, heavy drinking, & wanting to die. Mention of Gojo’s son & the reader struggling with their disabilities.
♡ — WC: 5.4K
♡ — A/N: thank you @sircatchungus for the idea!
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There was so much blood.
It stained the walls of your home. It covered the little markings on the archway of your kitchen where you and Satoru marked the growth of your little boy.
No amount of scrubbing could ever get rid of it.
It soaked into the hardwood floors, the floors that had formerly only known the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet running along it as your little boy would run across it, arms out as he eagerly ran to his father whenever he stepped through the doors after a long mission.
The curses attacked at night, fifteen days before Christmas.
Your baby boy waddled towards the Christmas tree with a blue ornament in his hand, carefully placing it on one of the lower green branches — as high as he could reach.
Despite the holiday classics gently playing in the background, and the sweet smile across your son’s face — he was missing a tooth or two, but even so — you couldn’t manage to crack a grin. Not even a fake one.
Satoru promised that he would return home on Christmas Eve. But, for you, it wasn’t good enough.
He knew that your little family often put more effort into the days following up to Christmas almost even more so than Christmas Day itself.
On that important day, you opened presents. But, on the days leading up to it, you put up the Christmas decorations. Watched cringy Hallmark movies and drank hot chocolate. Went ice skating. Baked cookies. Visited your family. Wrapped gifts for his students.
And he would miss all of it.
“Mommy?” Your baby boy looked up at you with eyes brighter than the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree. “When dad come home?”
You didn’t respond immediately. You didn’t want him to cry when you told him that his dad couldn’t watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas with him this year.
He was used to Satoru disappearing at random times for unknown periods, but Satoru never missed the important stuff. Birthdays. Events. Holidays.
He never missed it until now.
“Hey,” you leaned down, placing your hands on your knees as you looked at your son. “Wanna get ready for bed? Let’s go pick out a book!”
“Okay!” He squealed, making his way for the stairs as you followed closely behind.
But, on your way to the stairs, you noticed something lying on the floor in your foyer.
“Sweetheart, what did mommy say about leaving your toys on the floor?”
Approaching the item, you started to pick it up, and it unraveled.
It wasn’t a toy at all.
It was a finger. A cursed object.
“Mommy?” Your baby boy called out, standing on the stairs. “Let’s read, Mommy.”
The curses emerged from the darkness of your dining room, drawn in by the cursed object.
The sight of the horrifically disfigured monsters brought your son to tears. He ran for you instantly, screaming for you. It only made the curses move faster. They went straight for your loud, crying son first.
There was so much blood.
“I never thought you’d fall in love in general,” Kento Nanami sipped on his glass of water as he chatted with Satoru. “But to fall in love with someone who isn’t a sorcerer is risky.”
“How so?” Satoru shrugged, leaning back on Kento’s living room couch as he sighed in utter relaxation.
“Does she know about curses? About how powerful you really are?”
“Of course she does,” Satoru smiled at the other sorcerer. “I’m gonna marry her, ya know. She knows everything.”
“You could also get in trouble for that,” Kento rolled his eyes at his friend’s idiotic behavior.
“No, I won’t. She’s just like you.” Satoru smirked a bit, thinking about how strong his future wife really was. “She can see curses, and she can kill them too, but she decided not to become a sorcerer. She hates the system, and wants me to leave it as well, just like you did before you came back.”
“I see,” Kento sat down on the couch next to the white-haired man. “So she’s one of us, kind of.”
“Yeah,” Satoru smiled fondly. “My girl doesn’t mess around.”
There was so much blood.
Nearby neighbors heard screaming and called the police.
Sirens blared through the neighborhood as a police car and ambulance arrived at your home. When they stepped into your house, blood coated the bottom of their heavy black shoes. They were certain that you and your son were dead.
No one could survive having lost that much blood.
Not a normal human, at least.
But you and your son weren’t exactly ordinary, and despite being unconscious, your chests were rising and falling. Faintly, as it certainly wasn’t a fate that would last, but it was enough for the emergency services to rush you and your baby boy to the hospital.
The skilled surgeons spent hours operating on your bodies — fixing what they could.
To ordinary investigators, it seemed as if a woman and her son were attacked by an intruder, and survived.
But, to the sorcerer society who picked up the presence of cursed energy in your home, they knew what really happened.
That you fought two first-grade curses and one second-grade curse.
It was a brutal fight, but you killed them.
Even so, when you awakened from your coma, doctors and the sorcerer society elders staring down at you as you lay helplessly in your hospital bed, you were forever changed.
No one told Satoru Gojo the truth.
Only the surgeons, first responders, and the elders knew the real fate of Satoru’s family, and the elders didn’t allow the surgeons and first responders to contact the father and husband of the two victims.
Instead, they told him that his family was dead. That it was Sukuna’s fault. They took advantage of the situation and fed him a pack of lies, all so they could convince humanity’s strongest sorcerer to allow them to execute Yuji Itadori.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he spiraled.
He went on a killing spree. He moved to a new town and nearly drank himself to death every single day.
And, little did he know, his little family had moved to the same town as well.
SEVEN YEARS LATER…
Your ten-year-old son walked down the streets of his small, cozy town. The brown and crisp fall leaves crunched underneath his shoes as he made his way down the sidewalk, and headed to your coffee shop after school.
His thumb was tucked underneath the strap of his backpack.
As he walked, staring at the ground so the setting sun didn’t shine in his eyes, he couldn’t help but frown.
School was rough today.
His class went on a field trip, and he had to witness his classmates bring their fathers along with them to the planetarium.
It broke his heart. He barely remembered his father.
He could faintly remember a man — a tall man who used to pick him up and play with him, but he couldn’t remember his face.
And, after the day you and he got attacked — although he couldn’t truly recall the event — you both never returned to your old home, where all of your pictures were.
All of your memories.
All he knew was that he wanted a dad. And he wanted to remember the man who once filled the role and figure out what happened to him.
What was he like? What did he look like? Did he have the same head of hair? Your son felt like he might have, but he wasn’t sure.
What did he do for a living? How old was he? Did he ever love his son? What happened to him?
God, his heart ached. He wanted answers, and he couldn’t get them. Not from you. Not from anyone.
He couldn’t help but wonder if his dad would have even liked him.
Perhaps, it was better if he didn’t have one, as he couldn’t play sports like most dads wanted their sons to do.
The great incident had left him with a bad leg, and he walked with a limp that often exhausted him.
He was even tired now, despite the incredibly short distance between the school and local shops.
He should have used his forearm crutch today. The field trip took more energy out of him than he expected.
And, the fact that he refused to let you leave the coffee shop, pick him up from school, and return to the coffee shop certainly didn’t help.
A tear rolled down his cheek. Even if he did have a father around, what father would want him around?
He already felt like a burden, although you never treated him as such. He just couldn’t help it.
He didn’t bother wiping away his tears, even as they clouded his vision of the leaves coating the sidewalk.
As he walked past the local bar, a tall man gently bumped into him.
“Excuse me,” your son mumbled politely.
The man reeked of alcohol.
“Sorry,” the man slurred out, walking around the boy as he made his way down the street.
Your son never looked up.
And Satoru never looked down.
When your son arrived at your cozy coffee shop, greeting the familiar regulars as he made his way to the counter, you smiled at the sight of your sweet boy.
He sat down at one of the barstools, slinging his backpack onto the counter as he pulled out his math notebook.
“Hi mom,” he greeted.
“Hi sweetheart,” you made him a cup of water and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said. “My homework’s on decimals. Joshua tried to eat a bug during lunch today during the field trip. It was awesome.”
“Nasty,” you playfully wrinkled your nose, which made your boy grin. “Did you have fun? I’m sorry I couldn’t go.”
“Yeah,” taking a much-needed sip of water, your son pulled out his wooden pencil and started working on his math problems. “And it’s okay.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We’ll do something really special for your birthday.”
The boy simply nodded.
Folding your arms across your chest, you couldn’t help but wonder if your lack of attendance was better.
Not only could you not afford to close the coffee shop during business hours — your only other employees were busy with college classes — but you didn’t want to scare any of your son’s classmates.
After all, the great incident took a toll on you as well.
You lost your left eye and had a deep scar running vertically down your face. Most kids thought that it was cool, claiming that you resembled a pirate with your black eye patch. But you didn’t want to risk the chance of anyone finding it scary.
You had your fair share of other scars as well, and one missing finger.
But, none of your physical injuries could compare to your mental ones, as you also suffered from amnesia.
When you awakened from your coma all those years ago, you couldn’t remember what had happened.
Or anyone.
Or anything.
A couple of old people forced you away from the home you couldn’t remember and the loved ones you couldn’t cherish, and into a new life in a new town.
The horrific head injury you suffered while trying to protect your baby boy wiped away your past until you were nothing but a blank slate. But, after a year of being around him and constantly seeing his face, you started to remember your son.
Years later, he was all that you could remember.
Everything else was fuzzy. You remembered people, but you couldn’t remember their faces. You remembered love, but not who you shared it with.
You remembered how to do things — such as make delicious coffee, of course — but not who taught you.
But, even so, you thought that it was odd for a group of old people to rip your old life away from you.
They said it was for your safety, so the person who attacked you and your son wouldn’t find you again, but, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was anyone out there who missed you.
Who loved you.
Who you might have forgotten.
And, technically, you knew the answer to that question. After all, your son had to have a father, but who was he? Where did he go? What did he look like?
Perhaps, you’d never know.
The very next day, on his way to the coffee shop after school, your son bumped into the drunk man again.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Sorry,” the man slurred.
Several moments later, as your son passed the entrance of the local bar, the bartender opened the door, and shouted, “hey!”
The drunk man never turned around, as he didn’t hear the bartender shouting for him. Your son stopped walking, looking up at the bartender.
“Poor guy forgot his wallet,” the bartender frowned, clenching the leather pouch in his right hand. “Guess I’ll hold on to it. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
Your son flickered his eyes between the bartender and the drunken man making his way down the sidewalk.
The bartender couldn’t leave the bar unattended, even for a second, but your son figured that the man might have needed his wallet before tomorrow.
“I can give it to him, sir,” your son smiled kindly, holding out his hand.
“Thanks,” the bartender handed the wallet to the boy but stood at the bar entrance as long as he could to make sure the kid actually returned the wallet to the stranger.
An unofficial challenge between the drunken man and the limping boy was underway; a challenge to see whether or not your son could catch up to him.
But, as the man staggered around, headed nowhere in particular but in the general direction of his home, your son caught up.
He reached up and tapped the tall man’s arm.
“Excuse me,” he said politely. “You dropped your wallet, sir.”
“Hm?” Satoru stopped walking, his hands in his pocket as he looked down. He made eye contact with the young boy who held his wallet up at him.
— ONE YEAR AGO —
Three gentle knocks were heard throughout Satoru’s home. It was a Sunday, and the bar was closed. Even so, the depressed man had enough alcohol at home to make it through the day, but he wasn’t nearly as drunk as he wanted to be. It just wasn’t enough.
When someone knocked on his door, he knew immediately that it was Kento Nanami. No one else visited him. No one else knew where he was.
Satoru opened the front door, leaning against it as he glared at the man with bloodshot eyes.
“Hey, Satoru,” Kento greeted softly. “Happy birthday.”
Satoru stepped away from the door. The other man walked inside.
Kento stepped into Satoru’s living room, which was unpleasantly cold, and he turned around to face his old classmate, who took a swig of his beer, loosely gripping the bottle.
“I won’t stay long,” Kento said. “I just wanted to bring you a gift.”
“What?” Satoru blinked at him.
Silently, Kento handed him a bag.
As Satoru hesitantly grabbed the gift, Kento grabbed the beer bottle.
Satoru slowly pulled out a heavy-framed photograph. A tear slipped down his cheek as his heart snapped into pieces.
“When someone passes away or goes missing, there are people who create photos and art to show what the person might currently look like using age progression.” Kento pushed up on his glasses. “I contacted one of them. Your wife looks the same, pretty much, but . . . that’s your boy. He would have been around nine years old, and that’s what he would have looked like.”
Hot tears fell from Satoru’s eyes and splattered onto the glass.
It was really you and your son — what you would have looked like if you were still alive.
His beautiful, dead family.
“Thank you,” Satoru mumbled. His hands were starting to tremble.
Kento wrapped his arms around the other man, hugging him tightly. He had to use all of his strength to not cry as well. “You’re welcome.”
“Sir?” Your son tilted his head a bit in utter confusion, as the drunken man hadn’t yet taken his wallet back. “Do you need some help? Getting home and stuff?”
Suddenly, Satoru kneeled.
Maybe it was just a coincidence.
Maybe he simply had too much to drink.
Maybe he was imagining things.
Because what Satoru thought — what he wanted to think — was that he was staring into his child’s eyes. That he was looking right at his baby boy, who he missed so much.
But that wasn’t possible. He was told that his family was murdered. He saw the blood.
“Thank . . . you,” Satoru slowly took the wallet back. “You . . .”
Satoru closed his eyes, and opened them again, fluttering his eyelashes as he tried to shake off what he thought was yet another vision.
Therapists told him that it was a response to grief — seeing his deceased wife and son when they weren’t there. And the alcohol running through his veins didn’t help either, as it distorted his vision a bit.
But . . . maybe, just maybe . . .
“You have’a name?” Satoru slurred out, his drunken words laced with hope.
“Noa,” your son smiled softly. “What’s yours?”
Satoru’s heart ached as his spirit was crushed once again.
His boy’s name was Ren.
The hallucinations must’ve started to return once more. Slowly, Gojo rose to his feet, putting his wallet in his back pocket.
Without another word, the man slowly started to walk off, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so.
“Mister? I don’t think it’s safe for you to walk home by yourself, you could get hit by a car or something.”
Satoru didn’t respond.
“Let me help,” the preteen limped over, grabbed Satoru’s arm, and slung it around his shoulder as best as he could. Truth be told, he didn’t help much despite his best efforts, but at the very least, he would be able to rest knowing that the stranger was safely at home.
By now, Satoru was convinced that maybe he was with a real person, perhaps an actual kid, and he was simply imagining that the young boy had his hair, nose, and eyes.
Together, Satoru and Noa walked up the steps belonging to the drunk man’s homey brownstone, and after stumbling around with the keys, Satoru managed to get the front door open, and Noa helped the man collapse on his couch.
Suddenly, his phone started ringing. Noa had five missed text messages from you.
“Mom’s gonna kill me,” Noa thought.
After all, he wasn’t responding to your messages, he was inside a drunk stranger’s home due to his overly kind heart, and he wasn’t at the coffee shop like he was supposed to be at this hour.
Not to mention; the great incident had resulted in you becoming even more protective over your boy, if that was possible.
“Hello?” Noa answered nervously.
“Noa? Are you alright? Where the hell are you?”
“I’m okay, mom,” your son said. “I was helping out a . . . friend, I’m sorry.”
“Get to the coffee shop. Now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
After hanging up, Noa faced the slumped-over stranger.
“I’m gonna go now, my mom’s waiting for me,” Noa announced awkwardly. “Do you have somebody around to watch you?”
“You look like a . . . like my son.”
“Okay,” the young boy shifted his feet on the hardwood floor. He truly didn’t know how to respond to the poor man. He must’ve been spouting drunken nonsense. “Well, have a good night, sir. Be safe.”
Noa turned around, coming face to face with a beautiful brown, brick fireplace. But what caught his attention was the photos hanging above it.
There weren’t many — only about four framed photos.
The first one he saw was a picture of a baby. It startled Noa, as the kid did look just like him. It wasn’t surprising, as Noa resembled the drunken stranger, but he had seen other people with white hair before.
“Maybe he’s my cousin’s neighbor’s dog’s mother-in-law’s brother’s uncle,” Noa childishly thought, giggling aloud at his own joke.
Then, he looked at the next picture.
It had that same kid — but it also had you. His mother.
The next picture was just of you and the stranger.
Then, finally, he looked at the last photo. It was an age-progressed picture.
It was you. It was him. But, at the same time, it wasn’t. He didn’t quite understand it — any of it — but it was creepy. And the child didn’t know what to do.
Noa turned to face the stranger, but he was fast asleep on the couch.
The young boy pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of the photos, and left as quickly as he could.
Satoru awoke the next morning with a pounding headache.
What snapped him out of his sleep was the sound of his front door opening and closing. He didn’t bother raising his head to see who it was, as he already knew the answer.
“If you’re just going to leave your front door unlocked,” Kento called out from the foyer, stepping into Satoru’s home and shutting the door behind him. “Then I shouldn’t have gone through the trouble of having a key made.”
“What are you doing here?” Satoru croaked. “It’s only . . . it’s only — uh, Saturday.”
“No,” Kento stepped into the living room and glared down at the man. “It’s Sunday.”
Satoru frowned. If it was Sunday, then the bar was closed.
Not only that, but he went to the bar on Friday. He must have spent Saturday on the couch, doing absolutely nothing except making an occasional trip to the bathroom.
And Kento could tell. He looked horrible.
No human being was made to endure such self-inflicted mistreatment, no matter how powerful.
Kento had a key to the man’s home for emergencies, but eventually, he started to visit him every Sunday to help him out in any way that he could.
“Come on,” Kento sighed, “get up. You need to get out of the house and go somewhere that isn’t the bar.”
“No,” Gojo mumbled weakly.
“Gojo,” kneeling, Kento tried to look at his friend’s face, but Satoru’s eyes wouldn’t meet his. “Gojo, listen to me. You’re going to die if you keep going down this path. Maybe not soon, but eventually. When was the last time you had food and water?”
Satoru shrugged.
Kento raised to his feet. Walking away, he headed to the kitchen — which was incredibly nice for a man who didn’t cook — and opened the refrigerator.
It was empty. Of course.
“Alright,” Kento said to himself, walking back into the living room. “I’m dragging him to the grocery store.”
It was incredibly difficult, but Kento helped his friend get cleaned up and dressed and managed to get him outside. Satoru hated every minute of it. He felt nauseous. All he wanted to do was sleep and drink, or drink and sleep.
As the two men walked into the grocery store, Kento grabbed a cart and instantly started grabbing a variety of ingredients to put together at least a week’s worth of nutritious meals for Satoru.
He’d cook it and store it away in Satoru’s fridge and freezer, and all the man would have to do was heat it in the microwave.
After making his way through the produce section, Kento headed towards the cases of water, and Satoru sluggishly walked down random aisles to find a jar of pasta sauce that the other man asked him to go get.
He had to do some things on his own.
“I’m thinking we should go with asparagus instead of broccoli,” you scanned your eyes over the fresh, green vegetables, before smiling down at Noa.
“Asparagus is fine, but can you put cheese on it? Pleaseee?”
“You know what, as long as you’re eating them, I don’t care what I have to put on them,” grabbing the asparagus, you tossed them into your cart as your son clenched his fists in celebration.
You ruffled his head of white hair with your four-fingered hand.
“Stop it, mom. We’re in public,” he frowned playfully.
“Fine, fine,” you started to push your cart forward and reached over to grab a pack of tomatoes. “Go pick out your cereal. Gonna switch it up this week, or get Lucky Charms again?”
“Lucky Charms, always,” your son grinned as he started to limp away. Today, he had to wear his forearm clutch.
Helping that stranger a few days ago took a lot of energy out of him.
He didn’t speak of what happened a few days ago, either.
After all, who would he tell?
You wouldn’t have the answers — or, rather, you wouldn’t remember the answers.
He had planned on returning to the drunk man’s home to ask him the questions running rampantly through his mind.
But Noa wasn’t stupid.
He knew exactly what the pictures meant.
But he didn’t want to give himself any hope, just in case he was wrong somehow, and the drunk man wasn’t his father.
A forty-pack case of water bottles was what you needed, as you and your boy chugged water constantly. But, a careless worker had shoved the cases incredibly far away, and you couldn’t reach it and pull it onto the lower shelf of your cart. You’d have to lift it, and you simply weren’t strong enough.
The nicely dressed blonde-haired man standing further along down the aisle was.
He was rather tall and buff, standing by his cart as he scrolled on his phone, simply waiting for you — the lady in front of him, whose face he couldn't see — to move so he could grab his own case of water, grab his miserably sober friend, and take him back home.
“Excuse me,” you called out softly. “Can you help me? I can’t get this case of water.”
“Sure,” he said, shoving his phone in his pocket and he walked forward, reached down, and pulled the case of water on your cart.
“Thank you,” you said softly.
As the man was about to say “you’re welcome,” he finally looked at you.
His skin paled instantly as if he was staring at a ghost.
And he was certain that he was.
He stood there — staring at you, his throat drying to a crisp.
“I don’t know why the employees always shove the water back there,” you attempted to make small chatter, glancing away from the stranger, as you assumed he was staring at you oddly due to your eye patch, and the scar running along your face right beneath it.
“I . . .” the man couldn’t find the right words to say.
Suddenly, your son made his way down the aisle, putting his box of cereal in the cart.
“Mom, did you know they make Lucky Charms with just the marshmallows now?”
The man’s eyes flickered down to your son, and his eyes widened.
“This isn’t . . . possible,” he mumbled.
Both you and your son were still alive, and yet, you didn’t seem as shocked to see him as he was to see you.
Didn’t you remember him? He was your husband’s best man at your wedding. He babysat your little boy quite often. He cried when he heard that you and your son were killed.
And yet, you only gave him a stranger-friendly smile.
“I-”
“Y/N?”
Kento was interrupted by Satoru, who had suddenly walked down the aisle.
He dropped the jar of pasta sauce on the ground.
It shattered.
“Renny?” A tear slipped down his cheek.
He wasn’t hallucinating — he was sober enough right now to know that.
Your eyes darted back and forth between the two unfamiliar men. After all, you knew well that you suffered from amnesia, your doctors had told you, and considering the man with the white hair called you and your son by your old names — the elders made you change them — you figured that they must have been old friends of yours.
But the white-haired man bore a resemblance to your son as well.
“Hi,” you smiled awkwardly, flickering your eyes between the two men. “You two must know me. I, um, I suffer from amnesia, so I don’t really . . .”
“Remember us,” Kento finished your sentence for you.
He thought that he was going to pass out.
“Well,” he gulped, pressing a hand against his head, closing his eyes as he spoke. This was insane. “I’m . . . I’m Kento Nanami. I was an old friend of yours. And this is Satoru Gojo, he is . . . he was . . .”
Kento glanced back at Satoru. The poor man hadn’t moved an inch. He only stared at you with the saddest eyes, an occasional tear slipping from them.
“I was waiting to die,” Satoru spoke — his words struggling to come out as he did so. “I was waiting to die so I could see you two again, and you don’t . . . remember me.”
The tears were falling even faster now. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time, one that he couldn’t bear. He wanted to laugh and sob. He wanted to hold you, but he was afraid to move. His hands started to shake, but the rest of his body was still frozen.
For years, he dreamt of reuniting with you and your boy again, perhaps in the afterlife. Or, sometimes he’d dream about you coming back to life like a silly child. But a fate as cruel as you being alive, but suffering with amnesia was like a direct punishment from a god and a devil at the same time.
Gojo wanted to fucking die.
He wanted his life to end right now, even glancing up at the ceiling of the grocery store, hoping one of the gods above would grant him his silent wish.
“You don’t remember me,” Gojo repeated. None of it seemed real. “You’re alive, but you don’t remember me.”
By now, other nosey shoppers were strolling by, listening to the conversation, but pretending that they were simply searching the shelves for drinks.
Your eyes darted in Kento’s direction, and he knew that face.
It was the same face you gave him when he and Satoru returned home two days late from a mission. It was the face you gave him when you came home one day and discovered that he accidentally let your baby boy stay up past his bedtime.
That face meant that you wanted answers.
“I don’t know any better way to say this,” Kento frowned. “That’s your husband. And the father of your child.”
Noa — or, rather, Ren — limped forward.
“I knew it,” he whispered happily, approaching the crying man as a tear slipped down his own cheek as well. “I was right.”
Ren looked up at his father with the happiest grin of relief.
And, god, your son grew. He was only three when Satoru had last seen him, and now, he was staring down at his beautiful boy, who was turning eleven soon.
Your son hugged Satoru with the arm that wasn’t holding on to his singular forearm clutch.
“Finally,” your boy said, holding on to his dad as tightly as he could.
He couldn’t remember him, but he didn’t care. He was simply happy to have a father.
Satoru didn’t hesitate to hug his son back.
“God, Renny . . .” the man cried, as his heart ached terribly. “It’s really you, it’s my baby boy.”
Running a hand through his son’s white hair, Satoru pulled away from the hug, only so he could look his boy in the eyes, and see him.
“You’re all grown up now, aren’t you?” A sad chuckle fell from Satoru’s lips.
He only looked away from his son when he felt another pair of arms wrap around him.
It was you — you were hugging him.
Satoru closed his eyes in relief, his tears soaking the front of his shirt, and dripping onto the heads of his family.
You hugged him lovingly, although you couldn’t remember loving him.
Your husband — the father of your child — was nothing more than a stranger to you, but he needed this hug. You could tell how badly he missed you. How badly he wanted to hold you.
As Satoru held onto his wife and son, none of you truly understood what had happened seven years ago.
But Satoru was determined to find out.
And, in the meantime, you’d try your hardest to recover your sweet memories of him, just as you once recovered the memories of your son.
Perhaps, you’d start by making new memories as well.
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♡ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓
♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤? 𝐈’𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!
🏷: @sad-darksoul @sircatchungus @gojossocks @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @star-toruu @yobabymama @s7armin @minmin-minnie @jexx233 @asiaa2prettyy @roninishere @dreamsarenicer @starzcoffeelvr @delghoul @buttercupmuffins @dijaicar @tuliptoot @sweet-yzabelle @creative1writings @lympha @malikazz243 @bforbiblio @galagarts @enesitamor @luffysfav @chilichopsticks @misscellaneousisme @1plwushie @blackjou @gfmima @dazedflvr @safiest58ravenclaw @dyna-mights
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You Slow It Down - LN
Summary: Lando lives in a fast world of fast cars, constant travel and always moving. But there's one person who makes it all slow down and lets him just breathe.
Themes: Smut (unprotected but reader is on bc) ;), fluffiness too
No part 2 requests please
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Being an F1 driver is the dream. Lando is living the dream, but it does meant comes at a cost in other departments of his life.
"Lando? Lando, radio check?" Will calls into his ear, the slightly impatient tone giving away that he'd zoned out so much he'd been ignoring the only voice in his ear.
"Yeah, yep. Loud and clear." Lando states giving his head a bit of a shake to snap himself out of it.
Getting back into the right mindset for the season isn't necessarily hard, but accepting that the car might be more on the back foot than he'd hoped for at the start of the season isn't exactly what he had envisioned.
It's better than the disaster that was how the 2023 car started out. But they have yet to see it compete in a race, so maybe it's not wise to speak too loud about it like that.
It's the last day of testing and he's driving the morning session rather than the afternoon as he had the first two days.
This session really doesn't go well, with a red flag from a drain over and them only getting 20 laps in with him in the car. Things aren't where this should be and he needs to really focus on finding the solutions with the team, preferably before the race next week.
"It's going to be alright mate." Jon tries knowing that as close as they are, he's no one the one who brings peace of mind to Lando when he needs it.
The problem?
The person who does bring him peace of mind isn't here.
As part of a promise to not get in Lando's way when he needs to focus, y/n said she wouldn't come to Bahrain till the race weekend starts. Which is actually on Thursday.
Meaning Lando won't be handing out any genuine smiles till at least Wednesday. Almost thankfully, Lando will probably be kept too busy with the team to focus on her absence and when he is forced to sit on his own in his hotel room he'll be too exhausted to properly focus on her not being there. Though no doubt he's going to be calling her for some comfort.
-
The team all leave late after the most detailed of debriefs following Oscar finishing up for the day, later than really intended since the whole day was messed up by the loose drain.
It's on the drive home that he's on the phone to y/n, not even waiting till he's on his own for some verbal reassurance.
"Hey, baby." Y/n greets softly over the phone. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you so early."
"Not a good day, I just wanted to hear your voice." Lando mumbles, not being particularly bothered if Jon hears how pathetically needy he is over his girlfriend and her lack of presence at the moment. "I could buy you a ticket to fly out earlier."
"Lando...you know I'm no good for your focus when it comes to prepping for a race. We both promised Zak." Y/n reminds him since it was Zak who asked as politely as he possibly could that Lando travel without y/n at least for the testing and run-up to the first race.
Y/n was actually pretty flattered at the fact that she’s such a distraction to Lando that even staying in the hotel and promising not to be in the paddock wasn’t enough to guarantee Lando’s focus in the right area.
“Can you at least come on Tuesday instead? The media stuff is all on the wednesday and I want time with you before the whole first weekend kicks off.” Lando sighs, at the ready to really do whatever he needs to so he can see her sooner.
"Lando..."
"Please baby." Lando mumbles failing to hide his voice wobbling a little. Thankfully Jon has the kindness to not even turn his head in a moment like this, he knows Lando wouldn't appreciate being stared at in such a way.
"You know I don't need good reason to see you sooner. I just don't want you getting in trouble because we told Zak Thursday."
"He'll live." Lando mutters then clearing his throat a little. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about my day. I want to hear about yours."
-
The next 3 days were the longest of Lando's life and to make the wait a little shorter for himself, he managed to get y/n on a flight at an ungodly hour in the morning so he wouldn't have to wait longer than breakfast to see her.
She actually appears just after he's ordered room service.
"Morning, handsome." Y/n smiles moving to him just to give him a kiss only to be yanked down into his lap. "Oh, ok."
Lando is certain, almost certain at least, that y/n isn't aware of just how much y/n soothes the rushing thoughts that make his head feel tight with stress. Actually he didn't even realise till she appeared with that warm smile that his chest had felt so restricted till he relaxed upon seeing her.
Holding her actually brings him a type of comfort he couldn't compare to any feeling he's felt before.
"Would you like to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" Y/n whispers gently poking his head through the mass of curls. There's a long silence which she takes as Lando deciding he's not going to speak about it quite yet. "Glad you've not been fucking up your hair while I've been gone."
"I'd hate to undo all your hard work?" Lando jokes then kissing her softly. "I love you. I missed you so much."
"I missed you too, that apartment is so empty without you there." Y/n sighs earning a small smile since he does like to hear it. "What's on the agenda today?"
"I got the weekend off. Just a bit more training. Dinner with some of the team, playing golf later and maybe padel with some of the boys." Lando states as he smiles lightly at her. "Want to come with?"
"You know I do." Y/n nods before she leans into him. "What's first?"
"Eating. Did you eat before you got here?"
He's not sure why he asked, y/n has never been one for breakfast despite his attempts to get her to out such a habit have all fallen short with her compromise being a small smoothie.
"I had a late dinner because I knew you'd ask. I'm doubling it up as a very early breakfast."
"Breakfast so early you had it before you went to sleep." Lando laughs then biting his lip for a moment. "Do you know what I would love to do after breakfast?"
"I think I might be able to guess. Unless you're growing another limb down there." Y/n grins since the two are young and going days without sex isn't really either of them enjoy.
Y/n waits for Lando, the wait being enough for her to have let her mind run rogue to the point she's surprised he hasn't called her out for her shifting around. Though when he's done, he does stand up deciding he needs to "freshen up".
"Ok, you can stop squirming." Lando smirks reappearing as he looks at her. "Now. Where do I want you...?"
Admittedly there's something in getting to have sex that is going to help Lando destress a little.
"Lando?" Y/n frowns tilting her head, but there's something in her voice that tells him that she might need it more than him.
"On the bed, clothes off, I want to see all of you." Lando states making her almost scramble to do as he says. Her clothes removed and her body laid out like an angel.
These are the moments Lando wants to slow down and they do. He gets his wish every time and he couldn't be happier about it. She glows in his eyes and there's one specific part of her that is quite listening glistening for him.
"How much did you miss me, baby?" Lando asks, feeling his voice having dropped a little with the sudden urge to get inside her making his body fight itself from launching forward. "You're always so beautiful."
Lando climbs onto the bed after making a quick job of pulling off his own clothes, lips brushing up her torso before he kisses her and usually he'd make time for foreplay but he has to get inside of her.
"I need you, baby." Lando groans pushing into her and feeling euphoric from the wet heat of her body as she tightens around him, a moan passing her lips as he head drops back.
"F-Fuck. Don't stop. Please keep moving." Y/n pants, wrapping her legs up around his waist as he thrust in and out of her, grinding down against her to knock at her clit with expert movement and pressure.
Nothing if not a gentleman about her pleasure.
"Lando." Y/n moans like music to his ears, her heavy breaths complete mesmerising him as her skin coats itself in a light sweat.
Her stomach begins tighten as he gives a particularly deep grind down against her, managing to knock her cervix especially hard.
"F-fuck." Y/n pants running a hand up through his hair and tugging it a little while he repeats his action till she's rambling something incoherent before her whole body seizes.
The grip around him, pulsing heavily around his cock as she pulls him closer, seated full in her with no room to move. His own orgasm triggered as she shudders in waves of pleasure. The additional feeling of his cum spilling into her makes her eyes roll back as a new heat fills her impossibly full.
"You always feel so fucking good." Lando groans as he slowly eases himself out of her, much to her grumbling since she sounds unimpressed by him retreating before he pulls her in for a tight cuddle. "I wish I could spend the rest of my life doing this."
"As much as I would love to encourage you to retire to just spend ll day, every day having sex with me. I don't know if either of us have the stamina for that." Y/n laughs breathlessly before trying to shift only for Lando to keep her held tightly in place. "What?"
"Just stay like this for a bit."
"Baby, I'm leaking onto the sheets."
"Someone will come in and change them, it's ok." Lando shrugs then earning a grunt of disgust at the thought of someone else cleaning cum stained sheets for them. "I think they've dealt with worse."
"Still." Y/n mumbles before she lies her head on his chest. "Can you tell me why you were so upset? I hate knowing you had to literally beg me to come here."
"It's just the car...it's not where I thought it would be at this point." Lando states then gently hugging the woman. "I just needed you here really."
"You know if there's one thing the team proved last year, it's that they can make a bad car good. It might not be perfect but there's plenty of opportunities to improve. You never know what an upgrade can do...I remember how bad it was last year, you were considering other options." Y/n points out making him look at her with a sigh since she's right. "As for right now. I think you just need to take your mind off of the race and we'll get out, play some golf, padel, just enjoy the next couple days."
Y/n looks at him for a moment before smiling at him and sitting up.
"And there's always room for more sex and dirtying sheets between all that."
"You always know exactly what to say to me." Lando smirks making her grin at him.
"It's a talent."
So they spend the next 24 hours enjoying the free time, and then media kicks off on Wednesday, part way through Lando jumps at the opportunity of a break that he spends entirely with y/n. It's clearly to everyone that he only wants her to be the centre of his attention and has no interest in someone else interrupting the brief time he gets with her.
"How are you feeling?" Y/n asks making her look at him for a moment.
"I'm feeling better now you're here with me when I'm not busy. You're the best company I could ask to have." Lando declares softly while she smiles and tucks her head into his neck. "I love you."
"I love you too, you melodramatic muppet." Y/n whispers with her cheeky smile hidden from his sight.
"Oi." Lando laughs poking her side making her squeal and try to dodge his hand. "I'm not a muppet for loving my girlfriend."
"No. I support you're not."
Y/n slows the pace of the break in his day and with the rest of media being the type she can stand in the background for. He lets himself focus on her instead, which does somewhat drag out all the media duties but he'd happily take that if it means he can just admire her even when he's meant to be working instead.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos
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twinsarekeepers · 3 months
Text
“This isn’t the Arch, seaweed brain. You’re not pushing me into the stairwell again.”
First of all, LINE DELIVERY?? Leah Sava Jeffries is an ACTRESS because ‘seaweed brain’ is actually so corny and it would simply feel like fan-service if they included it earlier or in another context but this was so natural and I was so swept up by all the other amazing things happening that I was excited about it but also keyed into the rest of the scene.
But the way this perfectly displays her fatal flaw. She will not let this boy trick her again (spoiler: he does). She was caught off guard at the Arch because she wasn’t familiar with his game but now she’s ready. She WILL die for him and that is final.
“Yes, I am.”
This was CRAZY?? Percy Jackson #1 mentally unstable man because how is he determined to win every ‘sacrifice myself’ off with her? And he says it to her face too. He does not care for the games anymore, he’s fully telling her that he needs her to live.
“I’m not going to let you this time. It doesn’t work that way!”
This made me so incredibly sad. Annabeth is still thinking in transactions. She’s thinking about how he made a sacrifice in the Arch so it’s her turn now. This is how relationships work. This is how every relationship she’s had works. She literally can’t comprehend how he doesn’t see it that way. How he could be selfless enough to sacrifice himself for her TWICE. How he could care about her enough to believe she deserves it even after she was the reason they were in the Arch in the first place (my baby my baby say it with me now you’re my baby).
“It’s why you’re here!”
“Excuse me?”
This was so soft like I just *screaming crying gif*. The last time she said ‘excuse me’ to him she was pissed off about him bringing up Athena but now she’s just confused and sad. Like, she trying to figure out what he means by this. Does he think she’s so heartless and robotic that she’d just let him die for her own gain?
I also love how they don’t have her say ‘what?’ because it just adds this extra layer of how Annabeth has trained herself to be more mature in everything she does, even her language, because she believes that if she’s not perfect, she’s not worthy of love and affection and maybe even existing (literally sobbing wtf).
“When I was choosing my team, I told Chiron I needed someone who wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice me if the quest required it. He agreed. That was you.”
I was confused at first about this because I thought Annabeth knew Percy thought this about her until I went back and watched the choosing ceremony again. He’s definitely keeping his voice lower as he speaks to Chiron and both Chiron and him are raising their voice as they address the other campers so makes sense that she wouldn’t have heard him.
But also, this just adds so much to literally everything. Because, in the beginning, Percy didn’t think him and Annabeth would become friends. He genuinely did think that she would sacrifice him if she had to and he thought he’d be able to curb it. He thought he’d be able to fight Annabeth if it came to it because she might choose the quest over his mom and he couldn’t allow that.
But now here he is, after getting to know her, and seeing her vulnerability and bravery and strength and courage and wisdom and passion and everything that makes her so beautiful and wonderful and amazing and his friend. She’s his friend and she’d never betray him. She’d never sacrifice him. She’d rather sacrifice herself before she ever did anything to harm him.
And he’s apologizing to her. Listen to the way Walker says the last line (again, THE ACTING). It’s literally a confession because he feels so bad that he ever believed that about her. And now he’s making her do it. He’s making her do this thing that he once thought she’d have done without hesitation. He’s thinking about the Fates cutting that string and he’s thinking about his own words to Chiron and how Chiron agreed and he’s thinking about how Annabeth said that prophecies aren’t always clear and he fully believes that he’s figured it out. This is fate. Annabeth would sacrifice him and complete the prophecy. She’ll be the friend that betrays him but not because she wanted to and he will fail to save what matters most, his own life.
This entire exchange was very insane. It’s my Roman Empire. I can’t stop thinking about it because it shows their motivations and their viewpoints and their internal struggles so so so well like I can’t even … I’m having a malfunction.
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forzalando · 2 months
Text
Seeing Someone
Lando Norris x friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: Lando is finally ready to tell you how he feels when he overhears you say that you've started seeing someone - but overheard conversations aren't always what they seem. wc: 5.5k author's note: a few disclaimers: 1. let's all pretend that everyone has to spend a few weeks at MTC before the start of the season and they commute to/from London. 2. therapy and mental health help are so important - i purposefully left some things vague because people go to therapy for a variety of reasons and it should be normalized! i also didn't want things to get too heavy or potentially upset anyone by choosing to elaborate on something they relate to/hits a little too close to home. 3. this was inspired by a post i saw on my dash that said "when you said you were seeing someone i was hoping you meant a therapist". this originally started out more light-hearted, but the angst came out and i couldn't stop. feeling a little insecure about this one - thoughts and feelings in the comments/reblogs/my inbox would be so cherished and appreciated :) once again, special shoutout to @sof1shticated for being my beta reader. couldn't do this without you, Mel! warnings: mentions of reader going to therapy, mentions of reader drinking, a few curse words (i think), and angst! but there is a happy ending (even if it's a little open-ended)
Lando had searched the entirety of McLaren HQ at this point and started to worry – you were quite literally nowhere to be found. Usually, this wouldn’t phase him, since you were notorious for getting distracted or caught up in conversation with everyone you came across. You especially found ways to delay leaving MTC when you had to be there physically – the commute from HQ back to London each day was objectively the worst part of everyone coming together in the weeks leading up to each new season.
Today, however, the two of you had plans to get dinner at your favorite restaurant in London and you would never miss a chance to devour your favorite scallop risotto, cheese garlic bread, several glasses of wine, and a heaping mound of tiramisu for dessert.
He stopped speed-walking abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair out of the corner of his eye.
“OSCAR,” Lando shouted, his speed-walk turning into a run. “Oscar, have you seen Y/N? She told me to meet at her office at 5:00pm but it’s 5:30pm and she is literally missing. She better have a good excuse, I hate being late.”
“Missing? Are you sure she’s not just caught up in a meeting? I saw her heading to Zak’s office around 4:45pm, did you check there?”
“Zak’s office, of course! The one place I didn’t check. Thanks, Osc, you’re the man.”
Oscar rolled his eyes – “Anytime, Lan. What are you running late for? Hot date?”
Lando didn’t miss the wiggle of Oscar’s eyebrows and slight smirk. It wasn’t a secret to the Australian that Lando had a crush on Y/N – although Lando had never confirmed or denied it, it was pretty obvious to anyone who spent more than 30 seconds around them.
“Ah, something like that,” Lando said nonchalantly, a bashful blush making its way to his cheeks.
“Good luck, mate!” Oscar threw a wave over his shoulder as he heard the retreating sound of Lando’s trainers smacking against the floor.
In truth, although you and Lando were just friends and Lando was terrified he may ruin that, he had plans to tell you about his feelings for you that night at dinner. It had been almost a year since you started working for McLaren, and almost a year of Lando pining after you in secret. He spent most days trying to convince himself he was content just being your friend, but he was determined to make 2024 his year. His first win, hopefully of many, maybe even WDC contender material, and finally plucking up the courage to be honest with you.
As Lando hurriedly approached Zak’s office, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and heard your voice trailing through the opening.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Zak. And a massive thank you for approving the time off on such late notice.”
“Anytime, Y/N, you know you’re like family to me and everyone here. You sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, I’m seeing someone. It’s still new so I’m not set on him yet but I have a really good feeling about it, I’m really starting to wish I had called him sooner. He actually suggested the days off, I’m seeing him on Tuesday and hopefully things continue to go well.”
Lando’s heart dropped to his stomach – all week he had been thinking about tonight. How to tell you, how you might react, how nervous he was, and each day he grew even more anxious. He was panicking – what was he supposed to do? How could he sit across from you all night knowing that he’d missed his chance?
“That’s so good to hear,” Zak said earnestly. “Keep me updated and enjoy your days off.”
Lando could hear chairs scraping and scrambled to leave the scene before you walked out of Zak’s office to find him eavesdropping. He got about 50 feet down the hallway before he heard your voice from behind.
“Lan,” you shouted. “I’m so sorry, I’m totally late but I had to meet with Zak about something and his last meeting went way over.”
You jogged a little to catch up to him – a bright smile on your face that made his heart rate skyrocket and his palms grow sweaty. He couldn’t see you feeling like this. Not tonight, not when he could barely keep himself from telling you that he would be a much better boyfriend than whoever you were dating.
“We still on for dinner? I grabbed everything I needed from my office before I met with Zak so if we leave right this second and ignore the speed limit, they may seat us,” you bumped his shoulder as you joked.
Unable to help himself, only thinking about how hurt he was even though you’d done nothing wrong, Lando blurted out an excuse. “Actually, I was trying to find you to tell you I can’t make it.”
He tried not to react when he saw your face fall a little, but he told himself it was because you were disappointed about the last-minute change in plans and not that he wasn’t going.
“You should still go though,” he offered quickly. “I’m sure you have someone you could take with you!”
Your eyes spotted Oscar across the hallway and you smiled slightly – it had been a while since you had spent time with him and you knew he was having a rough week.
“Yeah, I have someone in mind,” you mused, focusing your eyes back on Lando. “Is everything ok? Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m fine, I just forgot I have plans.”
“Well, we had plans. You scheduled over me?”
“It’s a last-minute thing. Date thing. Last-minute date thing.”
“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh, that’s great!” You plastered a fake smile on your face – hoping that he was just as oblivious now as he apparently is to your feelings. “I hope you have a great time, she’s a lucky girl! I’ll see you on Wednesday, I’m taking a couple days off!”
Before he had a chance to say anything else, you sped off in search of Oscar to bribe him to accompany you to dinner. While you set off across the room, Lando smacked himself in the forehead and groaned.
“Why did you tell her it was a date, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. Now, it was his turn to speed walk through McLaren HQ, but if he had turned around just for a moment, he would have caught you stopped in your tracks staring at him longingly as he walked away.
You shook your head and sighed, continuing your quest to find the younger McLaren driver and rope him into an evening filled with good food and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably a few tears.
A few moments later, you spotted floppy brown hair bouncing as Oscar walked toward the employee parking lot.
“Oscar!” You yelled after him, increasing your pace to catch up to him.
“Hey,” he said, confusion evident on his face, “I thought you were going out with Lando?”
“He’s got a date,” you blurted. “He has a date and he canceled on me and it’s fine. I am fine. But I want my scallop risotto and tiramisu so you’re coming with me.”
“Sure, Y/N, lead the way.”
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Oscar was, to put it extremely lightly, confused. Lando was completely enamored by you – anyone with eyes could see it. Oscar was wholly convinced that Lando was going to officially ask you out at dinner tonight, especially after the brief conversation they had while you were late to meet up with him.
Yet, here he was, sat across from you in a dimly lit room as you sipped on your third glass of wine and, with all the subtlety of a neon sign, wiped a tear from your lower lash line.
“It’s not that I’m not happy for him, I’m so happy for him. But canceling last minute is a dick move, right? It’s a dick move. I know I’m just his friend, sometimes I feel like just a colleague, but I’m not being dramatic, right?”
Oscar stared at you blankly – his eyes wide and a look of pure fear on his face. He considered himself good at most things, great at quite a few, but comforting a crying woman was bottom of the list of Oscar Piastri’s skills.
“It’s totally a dick move,” he nodded his head eagerly in agreement. “I just don’t get it – when I saw him earlier he was frantic trying to find you. I think he’d scoured the entirety of MTC, he was out of breath when I found him.”
“Well, at least he had the decency to find me and tell me in person that he planned on ditching me.”
“Yeah, but that’s just it, it didn’t seem like he was trying to find you to tell you that. He complained about being late and when I asked him if he had a hot date, he blushed.”
“He is literally on a hot date.”
“Ok, well, when I asked him I meant did he have a hot date specifically with you.”
You scoffed and set your glass down – as much as you loved Oscar and you knew he’d never judge you, if you had any more wine you’d end up sobbing and not just wiping stray tears away.
“As if! Lando has never once made a move on me even though I flirt, or at least try to flirt, with him any chance I get.”
“You flirt with Lando?”
“I made him a personalized Spotify playlist, had Stroopwafels overnighted to him from The Netherlands after Vegas, bought him a sweater for his birthday with a card that said ‘to match your eyes’, and I compliment him every time I see him.”
“That’s your idea of flirting?”
“Well, yes.”
“Y/N, that’s just being nice to people. You’re nice to everyone. Lando is not going to understand that you’re a little extra nice to him and that means you’re trying to woo him.”
You huffed and slumped in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ok, well, how would you flirt with Lando?”
“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”
“Yes because apparently you know all about flirting! And by the way, Logan thought I was coming onto him when I was just being nice so some people would consider my actions flirtatious.”
“That doesn’t count, Logan thinks Uber drivers are flirting with him when they say ‘have a nice day’.”
You and Oscar shared a laugh at the mention of your mutual friend – somehow an even more hopeless case than you in the world of romance.
Your laughs turned to giggles and eventually died down completely. A sigh climbed its way out of your throat, the sudden change in your mood evident to Oscar.
“It doesn’t matter anyway – he’s seeing someone so no more trying, and according to you failing, to flirt.”
“You don’t know how serious it is, maybe this was a first date and it’ll go horribly. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about, he was just saying the other day that Lily and I make him feel painfully single. We can ask him about it on Monday!”
You frowned a bit and tried to recover, but Oscar noticed the way your face fell slightly. “I’m actually taking a few days off, I need some personal time. I won’t be back at MTC until Wednesday.”
“Is everything ok? You don’t have to tell me but if you need anything, you know I’m there for you, right?”
You smiled at Oscar – it was a rare thing to find such great friends in the people you worked with, but you got so incredibly lucky with the McLaren team, especially Lando and Oscar. “I know that, Osc. You’re a gem.”
With a nod of understanding, Oscar changed the subject to something more pleasant, and you enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friend.
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When Wednesday morning rolled around, you felt like your stomach might explode from nerves. You had resisted texting Lando over the past few days to ask about his date, you didn’t want to seem too eager and hoped it would come up naturally in conversation during the day. You hadn’t talked to Oscar much, though he’d texted you a few times to check in, but you wondered if he had talked to Lando at all and if he had details on how well Lando’s date went.
You arrived at MTC fairly early, hoping to get a head start on your day. Winter break was nearly over, and you were swamped with finalizing everything for the start of the 2024 season. It wasn’t until lunch that you saw Lando at all and he just so happened to be waiting in your office, sitting comfortably in your chair, while you were walking back from your latest meeting.
“Lando! What are you doing here?”
“I, uh,” he scrambled. “I was just…I don’t know really. I guess I wanted to see you, we haven’t talked in a few days since you’ve been out.”
“Well, we’ve both been busy. You could’ve texted me. How was your date?”
“It was good. Great. How about yours?”
You smiled remembering your evening with Oscar, assuming he had told Lando at some point that he had accompanied you. “Honestly so fun, we had the best time. I hope we get to do it again soon.”
Lando cringed – jealousy rearing its ugly head as he looked down at his feet before answering. “Same, I’ll probably go out with her again this weekend.”
“Good for you,” you gritted. “I’m glad you had fun. I actually have a million things to do so if there’s nothing important…”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to see you. I guess we’ll catch up soon? Hope you enjoyed your days off.”
Mustering up a fake smile, you told him definitely, awkwardly standing as he rose from your desk and left your office. As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, you groaned. The tension between you and Lando was unbearable, though you didn’t understand why it seemed to mostly be coming from him. Before you had a chance to think any further, you could hear your phone buzzing from inside your bag and begrudgingly pulled it out to see a text from Oscar.
did you go on a date over the weekend?
no? why are you asking me that?
well then why did lando just sit across from me and say ‘did Y/N tell you anything about her date?’
he was just in my office, I asked him how his date went and he asked about ‘mine’. i assumed he was talking about Friday and that you told him i brought you?
i never told him, i guess he thought you brought a real date?
You paused before responding to Oscar, confusion evident on your face and in your lack of response. Before you could type out a reply, two more texts came in.
ok something is up because i just told him that i went with you on friday and he said “i know, i saw you in her insta story in the reflection of a wine glass, i’m talking about yesterday”
insane that he looked close enough to see me in your wine glass but not the point
i literally haven’t been on a date in two years
let me figure this out
You slid your phone back into your bag and pulled out your laptop – your Lando problems would have to wait until you were at least somewhat caught up after missing two days so close to the start of the season.
Meanwhile, at a conference room table in MTC, Oscar was confused. Which, as of late, was a common occurrence when it came to you and Lando.
“Mate,” Oscar addressed Lando, “if you’re not talking about Friday, what date did you ask Y/N about? She hasn’t been on a date in forever.”
“Well then he must have canceled on her because she was supposed to have plans yesterday, it’s why she took days off.”
“I don’t know the exact reason why she took days off but she told me on Friday that she was and didn’t seem too happy about it. Said it was personal reasons.”
“Going on a date is personal.”
“Not ‘take two days off of work’ personal! Where are you even getting this information?”
Lando looked away sheepishly, afraid to admit to Oscar that he had eavesdropped on a private conversation between you and Zak. With Oscar looking at him expectantly, and a bit like a pissed-off Mum, he blurted it out.
“I heard her talking to Zak! Last week on Friday, when I was looking for her, she was in his office and the door was cracked. She had asked him for a couple days off and talked about how she recently started seeing someone and was seeing him again on Tuesday aka yesterday.”
Now Oscar was really confused. You had cried over Lando publicly on Friday, and he knew you fairly well, which meant there was no way you would be crying over Lando and going out with someone else four days later.
“I think you need to just talk to her because I promise you, she is not seeing someone. Also, what do you care? You ditched her for a date on Friday.”
Oscar had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Lando’s face fall.
“Lando, tell me you didn’t.”
“I might have.”
“Jesus, Lando, you heard 30 seconds of a conversation and decided to lie to her? Because what, your ego took a blow? Some caveman instinct?”
“No, I don’t know, honestly. It just slipped out! I had planned to ask her out for real and when I heard her say ‘I’m seeing someone’, I just didn’t know how to be around her. I couldn’t be around her that night.”
“You need to go talk to her. Apologize. Preferably, immediately.”
Lando jumped up from his seat and sighed. “You’re right. She might kill me, and she has every right to, but I have to talk to her and apologize to her. Wish me luck!”
Before Oscar could do what Lando had asked, Lando raced off towards your office, barely stopping himself from tripping over his own two feet.
Across MTC, you had just settled your mind and gotten into a groove of catching up on emails and making progress on deadlines. As soon as you thought to yourself that the day was going better than expected, your office door flung open and Lando Norris was standing stiff in your doorway.
“Lan, I told you that I’m busy. What is going on?” Annoyance was evident in your voice and Lando cringed knowing that this conversation was probably not going to be very pleasant.
“Why did you take time off?”
Your body straightened in shock, of all the things he could have asked you after bombarding you in your office, you wouldn’t have guessed he would pry into your personal life.
“That’s none of your business, Lando. If you were worried about me, you could have reached out, but I haven’t heard from you since you ditched me on Friday.”
Lando could see the hurt on your face, he could see it evident in your body language. He thought back to how you had looked upset immediately when he told you on Friday that he couldn’t go with you – when he told himself it had nothing to do with you wanting to spend time with him.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for that, it wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I didn’t want to not go. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Ok, I’m totally lost. You didn’t know what to do about what, Lando?”
He steeled himself for your reaction – something he had learned by being your friend for the past year was that you held trust and truth in high regard. You didn’t like being lied to, and you didn’t like people trying to dig into your life or get information you weren’t willing to share.
“I heard you in Zak’s office. I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, I swear, I was looking for you because you were late meeting me. Oscar told me you might be with Zak so I went there and the door was open. And I heard you. So I lied and told you that I couldn’t go to dinner, I don’t know why I said I had a date. All I could focus on was how hurt I was, I just couldn’t be around you and then I felt so stupid and terrible for lying so that’s why I didn’t text you at all.”
You were completely and utterly perplexed – you couldn’t even react with anger at the thought of Lando listening to a private conversation and outright lying to you. What could he have overheard that he was so upset about?
“Lando, I’m still confused. What did you hear? How did I hurt you?”
“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. You have no idea how I feel about you – I was going to tell you that night.” Lando was word-vomiting at this point, he never wanted you to find out this way but he couldn’t stop rambling. “I have had feelings for you for so long, and I finally decided that I was going to tell you even if I was convinced you don’t feel the same. And now I know you don’t because you’re seeing someone and – ”
You interrupted him sternly, allowing the anger you were feeling to come forth and shoving down your confusion. “I’m not dating anyone? Is that why you asked Oscar about my ‘date’? Where did you get that idea?”
“You told Zak that you’re seeing someone and that it’s new but things are going good. I heard you say you were seeing him again on Tuesday.”
Your eyes doubled in size – if you weren’t so pissed off, you might have found humor in this, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach churned at the thought of divulging your personal struggles.
“Lando, I’m seeing a therapist,” you hissed.
He froze for a moment, then scrambled to shut your door which was still ajar from him barging in.
“A therapist? Are you okay? What’s going on, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been struggling?”
“No, no, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to make me less angry by being kind and caring.”
“I’m not doing it to make you less angry, Y/N, I genuinely – ”
“I don’t care, Lando! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, misunderstood the context of that conversation, and then you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, because you got your feelings hurt and did things you shouldn’t have done, I have to share something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with you just yet.”
Lando was speechless – you could see the remorse on his face, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but in that moment you wanted him to feel even worse than you were.
“And you want to know the worst part,” you cried. “I feel the same way about you. I cried to Oscar at dinner because I thought you were with someone else, that you would have rather been at dinner with a different girl.”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Can we please just go somewhere and talk? Really talk this out? I know I messed up, but this doesn’t have to change things or how we feel about each other.”
You wanted to, god, did you want to – you knew Lando hadn’t done any of this on purpose. You knew he didn’t have malicious intent and you knew how hurt he probably felt at the idea of you being with someone – it was exactly the way you felt when you thought the same about him.
“I think you should go, Lan”. Despite every part of you wanting to sit and talk, you knew that you needed some time to settle down.
“Ok,” he whispered. “When you’re ready,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “if you’re ever ready, you know where to find me.”
His posture made you feel sick as he left your office – Lando was always confident, shoulders back and head held high, but as you watched him through the glass walls surrounding you, he was hunched over. Dejected. You’d only ever seen him that way a few times – after he was torn apart by the media or after making a mistake during a race.
It hurt you to see him that way. But, he had also hurt you, and you needed time.
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It had been two weeks since “the incident” with Lando – that’s what Oscar started calling it and it stuck. Fight felt too strong, disagreement felt too weak, so it became something nameless. Undefined. Indeterminate. Exactly like what existed now between you and Lando.
Oscar and Lando were set to leave for Sakhir in a week and you wouldn’t see them again until you joined the team for the Australian GP. If you didn’t work things out with Lando before they left for testing, it would be well over a month without a resolution.
The thought made your eyes burn with tears – you were still upset but more than that you missed Lando. You didn’t even have to wonder if he felt the same because you’d seen him around MTC. He looked just as awful as you, if not worse, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation.
You began packing up your things to leave the office, grateful beyond belief that it was a Friday and you’d have two days without seeing Lando’s familiar curls everywhere you turned. At least at home, you would only see them behind closed eyes and wouldn’t have to blink back tears.
A knock at your door startled you, but you assumed it was your team lead looking for your latest analytics report. At least there was one thing you could be happy about – the car data was phenomenal and all signs were pointing to an amazing season for McLaren.
You told whoever was knocking to come in, not looking up from your bag as you rifled through your files. “So sorry, Tom, I meant to bring this to you earlier but I – ”
A throat clearing cut you off, and you looked up to see Lando standing in your doorway with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of those cheesy “I’m sorry” balloons in his left hand. You almost giggled, but then you looked at his face and your heart dropped. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes - he looked awful. 
“I know you said you’d reach out when you’re ready to talk, and I wanted to respect that and give you all the space you need. But, we’re both miserable. At least I think you’re miserable, I know I am. I miss you terribly. I miss my friend. And if that’s all you’ll ever be to me, I can respect that and I will cherish it because the past week has been the worst week of my life.”
“Lando, I – ”
“Please, please let me get all of this out. Please let me apologize.”
You smiled slightly, nodding your head for him to continue.
“I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It wasn’t on purpose but I should have left as soon as I heard you talking because I know how important trust is to you. I violated yours and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It doesn’t matter if I was hurt, I could’ve just said I wasn’t feeling well or asked you about what I overheard immediately. After apologizing for overhearing, of course. I’m sorry that it took Oscar talking sense into me for me to come to you in the first place. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I behaved like a child instead of talking to you about my feelings. My actions made you feel forced to tell me something personal that you weren’t ready to share. I’m so sorry, and I hope you know that I’m here for you always.”
He let out a deep breath and you watched his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in two weeks. You knew he was sorry – you’d known how sorry he was immediately when he started explaining and apologizing the first time around, but you just weren’t ready to hear it yet.
“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered as you walked towards him and took his free hand in your own. “I know you’re sorry and I know that this was all a misunderstanding that just got out of hand.”
“I am also sorry for springing my feelings on you. I wanted to tell you properly, ask you out properly, but I couldn’t explain myself without telling you. I ruined everything, it was woefully unromantic.”
“Yeah, that was a bit shit, I didn’t get my big grand gesture or anything.”
Lando’s eyes grew wide, a hopeful gleam in them. “I mean, would you – is that something you would still want? I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t want to assume that you still feel the same.”
“I do,” you said softly. “But, I think we should work on really moving past this before we officially jump into anything more.”
“I completely agree. However, I do have a reservation for two in about forty minutes to make up for ditching you, if you’d like to join me? Otherwise, I’ll have to bring Oscar. He won’t stop talking about the cheese garlic bread.”
“No, Lando, you don’t understand. He ordered three baskets. I went home and typed an apology email to Zak for ruining his diet.”
You both erupted in giggles, leaning into each other for support and out of habit. It felt so good to laugh, the weight and stress of the past two weeks rolling off in waves as Lando’s shoulder bumped yours and you heard the unmistakable laughter that you’d come to love so much.
“Maybe we should bring him anyway,” you pondered. “He’s been an exceptionally good friend to us both the past couple of weeks.”
“He can come next time, I’d like you to myself for the evening. If that’s ok?”
“More than ok, Lan. I’ve really missed you.”
He leaned in quickly, kissing your cheek gently and then nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume he’d gifted you for your last birthday. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he objected, his eyes glimmering slightly. Wet eyelashes fluttered against your neck as he stayed tucked into your side for a few more moments.
“We’re going to be late,” you whispered, with a sincere lack of urgency.
“Can we go back to my hotel room instead? Watch a movie and order in? Jus’ wanna hold you.”
Your heart constricted – as much as you wanted to tease him and say he owed you a night out and your favorite meal, you wanted nothing more than to spend the night in Lando’s arms.
“Of course, Lan. I think I need that too.”
On the way to Lando’s car, you passed Oscar who gave you both a knowing smile and a short wave. If you asked him if he had been waiting for you guys to leave, he would deny it. He would deny being so invested in your reconciliation that he waited close to an hour after he could leave for the day to make sure you were both ok. He would also deny that he tracked both of you and when it dawned on him that you were skipping your dinner, he sped to that little Italian place and stole your reservation for an order (or two) of cheese garlic bread.
He couldn’t resist sending a poorly taken picture to the group chat with the three of you and you burst out laughing when you opened it.
“Lan, Oscar somehow stole our dinner res,” you giggled, turning your phone to show Lando an unmistakable basket of bread and a follow-up text with several heart emojis.
Lando held his phone up to snap a quick selfie of you two cuddled up in bed, him leaning in for the second time that evening to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. Almost immediately after it delivered, your phones lit up with another text from Oscar.
HOT DATE FR THIS TIME?
You and Lando looked at each other and smiled, the mutual understanding of where you stood with your feelings evident.
not quite yet, but soon :)
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If It All Fell (4)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3.7k
Warnings: Angst, descriptions of pain
a/n: Thank you again for reading this series, I really love writing it :) More to come! I really really appreciate feedback, as always ♡
Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 5 ☁
Series Masterlist
~~
“It’s going to feel like a push,” Rhys explained, his fingers intertwined between his knees. “And then you’ll know I’m in your mind. It shouldn’t hurt—maybe just a pinch and then a pressure.” 
You nodded, clutching the arms of your chair with white-knuckled fingers. 
“He’s in my mind all the time. Uninvited, might I add. Doesn’t hurt, it’s just annoying,” Mor added. 
Turning your head in her direction, eyes downcast toward the floor, you nodded to her, too. 
The faelights gave the room a warm amber hue. It was the day after you met Rhys—or rather, became reacquainted with him—and the day he was going to look for your memories. Mor sat beside you, the blue dress she wore shimmering beneath the glow of the room, and Azriel stood guard by the door. What he was guarding you from, you had no idea, but the act seemed to comfort him. 
“Was Cassian busy?” you asked, and then immediately regretted it. 
It wasn’t Cassian’s job to be here. He was a grown man with a position in this court. He was busy, obviously. You also barely knew him. 
What a stupid question.
Rhys breathed through a smile, anyway. “He’s up at the camps today. But I’ll let him know you asked for him. He’ll love that.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—” 
“He’ll love it. I was being genuine,” Rhys comforted, interrupting the anxiousness rising in your tone. “Should we get started?”
You took a deep breath meant to rid the feeling of nausea overtaking you. It didn’t work. 
“Yes,” you replied, easing your trembling fingers into your lap. “Yes, I’m ready.” 
Rhys kicked up from the table he was leaning against, spinning a chair around in front of you. He sat, and the instant his knees bent to make the descent, Azriel was out from his hiding place in the dark. He loomed over the High Lord, shadows agitated, wings tucked in tight. To his credit, Rhys only gave the new, menacing presence a quick glance. 
“Should I keep my eyes open? Or do we have to touch or—” 
“Just relax,” Rhys offered. “With everything going on, your mind should be wide open. This will be simple and fast. I promise.” 
A promise from a High Lord—from your family, you reminded yourself. This was going to be fine. You doubled up on tonics this morning, so the pain in your head was minimal and you were safe here.
This was going to be fine. 
You hadn't even noticed the rapid pace of your breath until Azriel’s shadows came to wind around your shoulders, the quick uptick of the darkness more telling than anything else. The small wisps traveled up and down with the rhythm of your breath until it began to even out, and then they curled around your cheeks as if to caress you. When they made the occasional pass by your ears, it felt as if you were being told secrets—as if you were important enough to know something no one else did. 
Yes, this was going to be fine. 
Rhys cleared his throat. 
The first step into your mind was jarring, the sensation making you physically jump. Rhys seemed to raise a hand up at the entry—to knock on something or open it up—but he passed through a permeable wall instead. He passed through with ease. 
The High Lord made a low, surprised sound that echoed in the room. 
“What?” Azriel gruffly asked. 
Rhys paused. “Well, nothing, I just—I just expected some of her magic to have remained where it was. For some of it to be protecting her mind.” 
“Magic?” you whispered. 
Azriel’s eyes snapped to you as if on instinct—as if the sound of your voice was simply something he always followed—but his expression did not match the sentiment. He looked haunted, a shadow cast over the grim line of his mouth. 
“I have magic?” 
Your whisper was cut off by a sharp intake of air. Rhys had moved on from the outskirts of your mind, each step deeper a clicking echo in the stark chamber. He went in directions that felt practiced, like he’d been here before but everything had been rearranged, removed. 
You watched as the High Lord ran a rough hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed in concentration. 
Mor placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
Azriel watched the man within your mind, a preternatural stillness stiffening his limbs.
“It’s like you’ve been wiped.” Rhys shook his head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You still know language, you know how to—to be fae. But everything else is…” 
Within your mind, you felt a darkness roll from Rhys. He was sending something out, inspecting the area. The pain began then, but you weren’t going to tell them. You weren’t going to break and ruin something else. 
The darkness invaded small crevices in your mind, sleuthing and slinking in areas you hadn’t been aware of yourself. More pressure built up behind your skull. 
You could still manage it. 
The air was knocked from your lungs, but you could still manage it. 
“Rhysand,” Azriel warned. Blue began to overpower the orange glow of the room. 
“I think I’m almost somewhere,” the High Lord replied. 
“She’s—” 
“Keep going,” you gritted out. “It just feels odd,” you lied. “I’m okay, keep going.” 
Azriel shook his head, face twisting in an expression of grief that almost had you taking back your words. He abandoned his observation of Rhys and approached your chair, kneeling down next to you, the bone of his knee harshly pressing against the floor. 
He nodded, something resolute in his eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you want.” 
From beside you, you heard Mor’s pained sigh, felt her turn to look away.
You tore your eyes from the piousness before you, but Azriel did not budge. His elbow came to rest on the flat surface of his thigh, his fingers extending out to touch the wooden leg of your chair. 
“Please, keep going.” 
Rhys nodded. The darkness in your mind expanded. It flowed like a cloud rolling out before a storm, reaching every corner of unsearched territory. There was nothing it couldn’t reach, and good, let it fill you up. Let it consume your mind because it was no use to you in this state. Azriel was kneeling before you, desperate and scared, and you couldn’t understand why, so let the darkness become you. 
If it led to understanding, to your life, you would withstand this pain. 
The first scream that left you ripped through the air like a strike, unsettling any gentleness that had resided in the small office. Rhys had found something; his darkness had collided with a wall—the only wall, only structure, in your mind—and he had gone to investigate. With the simple press of his hand against the sturdy cobalt, a blinding pain found a home in your skull. 
Azriel jolted, the fingers that had gripped your chair flying to cover your knee. 
You screamed again. And again. 
“Stop! Enough, Rhysand. Get out of her head,” Azriel ordered, but he sounded as if he were underwater. He raised his voice above your screams but he sounded so far away. 
You collapsed forward, hands coming up to cradle your head. There was a touch at your back, maybe another along your hair—you couldn’t tell. The pain was too great. 
“There’s a wall. Something foreign. The energy isn’t hers,” Rhys called. He sounded distant as well. 
The world grew light. 
“I don’t care,” Azriel gritted out. “We can try again later. She’s going to pass out and last time—” 
“Keep… going,” you panted, fighting past the pain to insert yourself into the conversation.
This was your decision, your mind. Your life that was torn away. 
“Y/n, please. You don’t understand,” Azriel begged, shifting forward and gripping your wrists in his scarred hands. “This isn’t good for you. This isn’t—please.” 
Sweat beaded at your brow. Rhys’s presence hadn’t left your mind. “I have… to know. Have to try.” 
“Rhys, maybe we shouldn’t—” Mor began in a soft, hesitant voice. 
“Go.” With a simple word from you, Rhys bypassed all else. 
Pain exploded at the first talon scratching down the slope of the foreign wall. You surpassed screams, your voice breaking at the peak of the most violent one. At some point, the hands on your head were replaced by larger ones, and you found the texture of them to be a grounding point. Something about the feeling was familiar, like your skin was used to the patterns, the raised edges and the divots along fingers. They traced soothing shapes along your cheeks, dried tears you didn’t realize were cascading down your face. 
And then Rhys stood abruptly, his chair rocking back and forth with his departure. The pain dulled, leaving you with heavy breaths and a lingering ache you weren’t sure would ever go away. 
“You’re okay, angel. You’re okay.” 
Breathing in was difficult. The world felt off its axis. 
Pale-faced and blinking, Rhys breathed out, “We need to go to Helion.” 
You gathered the strength to look up further. 
Azriel’s expression crumbled, his beautiful face only inches from yours and filled with such dread that when you succumbed to the lightness creeping into your vision, you feared the descent. 
~~
Your loss of consciousness was brief, which was, apparently, very unexpected. 
Your once stiff chair was no longer beneath you, and where you expected to be folded up into an uncomfortable shape and cold, you were instead held against a warm, vibrating presence. 
No, not vibrating, that wasn’t right. Just speaking—you were being held by someone and they were speaking. 
“—back there. Rhys, it’s not a good idea. If you said it was the same energy from before, we can’t—I can’t—” 
“He is gone, Az. You know that. Bringing her there would only serve to help her. You know Helion would go to lengths…” 
Your comprehension faded in and out, matching the swells of pain in your head. You were reluctant to open your eyes and welcome the assault of light and sensation that would surely greet you when you did. 
There was a soft lull in the conversation, although you couldn’t decipher where it had left off. You felt a light pressure along your face and welcomed the relief and comfort that came with it. Some of the ache dissipated along the path of the touch. 
“Her screams,” you heard Azriel stress, and it felt as if his words were spoken against your skin. “They were so reminiscent of that night. All of this is.” 
“I know, brother,” Rhys replied. 
“I don’t know if I can do this. If I can survive this.”
A sniff. Something wet along your jaw. The chest you were pressed against seemed to tremble. 
“You have to. She’ll need you when she comes out on the other side of this.” 
“I know,” Azriel whispered, words weaker but somehow even closer. “I know.” 
Disregarding all of your senses that argued against it, you cracked your eyes open. The lights were still low, but even that fact didn’t stop the burning behind your eyes from amplifying. A repercussion from Rhysand’s investigation, surely. 
Whoever was left in the room gave you time to adjust, no one speaking or moving or expecting anything from you other than breath. You felt the hold on you loosen, but not withdraw. 
Part of you, a deep, intrinsic part, knew it was Azriel. His voice and his scent and the feel of his body seemed to be things you could recognize even when nothing else made sense. So, you knew it was him holding you from the moment your mind began to catch up with the environment. 
And still, seeing him so close, feeling him against you—it was a shock to your already overwhelmed system. 
You groaned, face scrunching as you tried to gather your bearings. Azriel’s legs shifted, and your body moved along with them. The motion served as a catalyst in your effort to sit up. 
“Hey, hold on,” Azriel cautioned. Hearing his voice so soft—so careful—had you blinking, trying to parse out what was real and what was still hazy.
“Did…did we figure out what was wrong?” you asked, groggy. “Did you find anything?” 
You turned your head with sharp momentum, regretting the act as soon as you did it. But you didn’t have time for pain—for fear. Rhys looked back at you with a sympathetic smile, both of you ignoring the sound of protest from Azriel at your movement. 
His hand moved to rest along the back of your neck as Rhys spoke, keeping your head in one place. Keeping it supported and still. 
You didn’t have the energy to shake it off. 
Did you want to? 
“I found something. Not as much as I’d have liked, but it’s something to go off of. We’ll… have to go to Day. There’s more information there. I’ve sent Mor to sort out the logistics.” 
A glance around the room confirmed that the blonde was no longer there. It must have been a quick decision to send her away. As quick as Azriel tugging you out of your chair and holding you on the floor. 
Rhys didn’t seem uncomfortable by the display, but of course he wouldn’t—not if his goal was to drive two enemies back into friendship. 
If you were ever even friends to begin with.
The trajectory of your thoughts made you grimace in Azriel’s arms, and even though your entire body protested it, you shifted away from him, hands coming down to the floor to support your weight. A soft grunt left you.
Why did a search through your mind leave you so weak? 
“My lo—y/n, stop,” Azriel fumbled over his words, reaching out for you. 
But with confusion and pain marring your state of mind—causing your usually perfectly practiced, patient replies to skew—you only struggled more and pushed farther away. There were too many unknowns, too many questions, too many feelings surrounding this man who looked at you as if you were never-ending but pushed you away as if you were finite. 
You couldn’t take it. 
And maybe this is how you—the real you, the one with her memories—would react, anyway. Everyone always seemed to expect a strong will and unyielding tenacity, their disappointment at your meekness glaringly obvious. 
Maybe you were supposed to fight against these secrets and this pain. 
“I’ve got it,” you grunted out, pushing closer to the desk, closer to the rift you didn’t understand between you and Azriel. 
You wanted Mor back. 
She made more sense. 
Looking up from your struggle, you caught Azriel and Rhysand in the midst of a staring match, their expressions firm and drawn. With what you now understood about Rhys and his powers, you were sure they were communicating somehow. 
When Rhys spoke next, your hypothesis was only confirmed. “Az is going to take you back to your room,” he said, eyes never leaving the shadowsinger. “He’s going to help you pack.” 
When the High Lord left, the door clicking shut with finality, tension blanketed the room. The worst part of it all was your lack of context. Something big was happening, something immeasurable, and you had no upper hand—not even a foot on the ground. 
You looked down at your palms and then back up at Azriel. He had yet to move from his position kneeling before you, hands still outstretched in some fruitless reach, elbows bent and tense against his sides.
You wanted Mor back. 
She seemed to love you—to want you here.
“I can get back to my room on my own,” you offered, and even though the words were barely a whisper, they were resounding in the silent room. 
Azriel licked his lips and looked down. When his hands fell to his sides, you took that as compliance, as acceptance. On shaking arms, you attempted to lift yourself up. 
“I haven’t been doing this right.” Your unsuccessful attempt abruptly ceased. Azriel continued. “I barely got it right the first time. This time… this time I—” 
“It’s okay, Azriel. I understand, I think.” 
Hazel eyes met yours, the collection of colors confused beneath furrowed brows. 
You so badly wanted to soothe away all of the unease within them, to brush your thumb along his brow even though you were sure he wouldn’t want to do the same—not without his family present to witness it. 
“What do you mean?” he asked. 
You wanted to sigh, but too much air might’ve made you pass out again. Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek, twisting your lips as you considered the best way to phrase the thoughts that had been plaguing you. 
“No one will tell me about you—about who we were to each other before I lost everything. I thought maybe it was because you were going to tell me, but then you wanted nothing to do with me and I understood a little better. I understood that maybe we weren’t friends before all of this. And that’s okay, I know that we lived lives that I can’t remember. 
“But then… sometimes you do things that don’t make sense to me. You say things that don’t add up with what I’ve come to terms with and I think… I think my mind and my body get confused. It’s strange,” you admitted, using what little strength you still coveted to push yourself back against Rhys’s desk. “But I think I understand now. And I’m sorry if I make it weird. I think that even if my mind understands who you are to me, there are other parts that don’t quite catch up.” 
“And who am I to you?” Azriel asked, voice raw. 
You looked up from your fingers to meet his gaze again, greedily relishing in the calm they provided you. It was always calm there. “I don’t know. But I know I don’t have the honor of meaning anything to you. Maybe we didn’t get along, or maybe we just never meshed. But I can tell you struggle with this new role—whatever it is the Inner Circle has asked you to do with me. I can tell this isn’t natural for you, spending time with me, trying to be my friend.” 
Azriel fell further back on his ankles, his wings unfurling from their tight coil to drape along the floor in a defeated posture. It looked wrong; you’d been around these men and their wings and they never dragged. 
Azriel’s mouth parted slightly, his jaw off-centered. His gaze left you in favor of staring at the floor, and you surmised that you caught him. You figured him out. This pawn he had become—you had freed him from the game. 
But then sighed and he said, “No,” and the word was whispered with so much sadness that none of this felt like a game anymore. Not that it was fun; this had never been fun.
“No,” he repeated. “Y/n, spending time with you—being around you—it’s as natural as breathing for me.” He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Gods, I’ve done this so wrong.” 
“Azriel, it’s—” 
“Even just hearing you say my name. After so many days without it, I could sit and just listen to you talk and I would be content.” 
Your fingers felt numb. 
Azriel stopped staring at the ceiling. 
“We have always meshed,” he said. “I was being selfish—avoiding you when I shouldn’t have. The truth, y/n, is that we are close. Very close. Rhysand, Mor, Cassian—they don’t have to ask me to forge some… bond with you because that has already been 300 years in the making.” 
“But at lunch and every time I—” 
“It’s hard and I have been a coward,” Azirel interrupted, shifting forward until his knees brushed against yours on the ground. “This has been inexplicably harder for you and I have been a coward and there is no part of me that wants to be away from you.” 
It somehow felt as if your life was turning upside down again because you had made conclusions and assumptions and none of them were right. You had come to terms with the fact that you felt safest with a man who wanted nothing to do with you and had mourned the loss already. It had been strange to mourn something you had only just gained, but it had felt even stranger to lose Azriel. 
It hadn’t felt right.
“So we’re friends?” you tentatively asked, feeling the wooden corner of the desk dig into your spine. 
Azriel swallowed. “Yes.” 
“And you… like being my friend?” 
“Very much.” 
“Are you sure?” 
Azriel laughed, the sound so startlingly joyous you felt it swelling in your own chest. It filled you up, consumed you, and you wished for a long moment that you hadn’t been so willing to allow Rhys’s darkness into the crevices of your mind. This feeling belonged there. Only this. 
“I am positive,” he assured, a smile lingering on his face. “Being your friend has been my crowning achievement for the last three centuries.” 
“That doesn’t seem like much of an achievement,” you replied, the snark in your tone surprising you. 
It seemed to surprise Azriel as well, his brows shooting to his hairline. “Fortunately, you are not the authority on my achievements, especially since you don’t remember them and can’t recall how amazing it is to be your friend.” 
He kept tripping over that word—friend. 
You decided to ignore it, too pleased by the way you made Azriel laugh and smile and not look at you the way he had been for the past several days. 
And something was glowing in your chest, something that seemed to replace the near-constant ache you had grown so accustomed to. 
Later, you would ask more questions. Later, you would ask Azriel about Day Court and the reason why he silently panicked every time you ran your hand along your temple to ease the pressure there. 
But for now, you smiled at the shadowsinger, and he smiled back.
Part 5 ☁
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luvyeni · 3 months
Text
❛TAMING THE PILLOW PRINCESS❜ ( n. jaemin )
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p. boyfriend!na jaemin x fem!reader w. 1.8k+
warnings? oral ( m. receiving ), uprotected sex, sorta mean dom jaemin (he's such a softie it's hard), a little degradation, breeding kink (?)
— 𖦹 ( you used be such a good girl for him, but thats okay jaemin will fix it ) !
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“Come home.” You spoke through the phone. “baby im with the guys I told you I wanted to hang out with them for a while.” Jaemin said, but you could care less. “i don’t care, I want you home now.”
“Ba— come home or you’ll sleep on the couch for a week." Before he could speak up you said something else. “and no sex!” you hung up in his face— he sighed, putting his phone away, he friends already looking at him, your voice was loud enough for them to hear the entire thing. “don’t say anything.” He rubbed his temples.
“jaemin, man I love you and I don’t know how to say this but.” Jeno said. “your girlfriend is a bitch.” Haechan finished. “haechan.” Renjun said, jaemin shook his head, ready to defend you. “she’s just really needy you know?” he said. “she needs attention, it’s okay I don’t mind.”
“she’s also rude as hell, constantly nagging and yelling at you over stupid shit, spending all your money, i could go on.” Haechan said, jaemin sighed. Jaemin loved you, he did — but even he had to admit his friend was right, you were a nightmare dressed in pink.
“does she even you know?” jeno trailed off. “you know give it up?” he said. “sex? of course we have sex.” He said. “does she go down on you?” renjun asked, jaemin tried to remember the last time you did, cringing. “she really isn’t  that good at it, but id rather give than receive.”
“and you go down on her?” jeno said. “I do most of the work, so what?” jaemin said. “that’s your problem, you’ve created a pillow princess with a bratty attitude, and now you don’t know how to handle her anymore.” Jeno said. “I know how to handle my girlfriend.” He said, feeling a bit defensive now that it was finally laid out for him. “do you really?”
That sentence stayed with him all the way home — your attitude was getting worse day by day, and he stayed passive, letting you do what you want,  as long as you were happy, even though it made him miserable— he wasn’t getting sad, he was getting pissed, speeding on the gas all the way home.
You scoffed looking at the time, he was 2 hours late. “im gonna kill him.” you got up out of bed, only in your underwear and a flimsy tank top , making your way into the kitchen to get a drink, opening the fridge — your eyes sat on the last can of jaemins beer, you smirked grabbing the can, opening taking a sip. “serves him right.” You didn’t even like beer, you just wanted to piss him off , knowing he wouldn’t do anything but smile and tell you it would be okay.
Leaving the can on the counter, knowing it will piss him off as well, turning to go back in the room, when the front door open, your boyfriend walked in. you rolled your eyes, he looked at you,  then over by the counter, noticing the beer. “that was my last one.
“So?” you shrugged walking back to the room, the cats following behind you. “why didn’t you throw away the can?” you ignored him, he followed behind you. “you know I hate when you leave the cans on the counter.”
“well go pick it up and throw it away.” You picked up a pillow, throwing at his chest. “you go sleep on the couch while you’re at it.” He looked down at the pillow then back at you, anger boiling up inside him. “go.” You said turning on your side, no longer facing him.
“im not staying on the couch.” He said you scoffed. “well you aren’t staying in here, so sleep in the hall for all i care.” jaemin saw red, and before he could even notice it was like his arms and legs were moving for him — and he was sitting on the bed, you shot up ready to yell.  “I said get the fuc—” he your words were cut short by jaemins hand wrapping around your throat.
“Listen here.” He said, his eyes dark, not like how you’re used to. “i've had it up to here with your bitchy attitude.” He seethed. “letting you walk all over me, you don’t have to do shit, i let you sit here in the apartment i pay for all day and do nothing, while i go out and work my ass off so you can spend my money on your unnecessary shit and how do you repay me?” he squeezed. “by being a bitch.”
You couldn’t say anything, not because you couldn’t due to him choking you, but because you were speechless, he never spoke to you like that — so mean and with hatred in his eyes — it was kind of turning you on. “jae— did i say you could speak?” he said. “that’s your problem, you don’t listen.”
“i've been spoiling you too much, letting you get away with everything.” He kissed his teeth. “that shit stops today.” Before you could say anything he was tossing you over his lap. “i want you to count.” He whispered in your ear. “wh-ouch!” you yelped upon feeling his hand come down on your ass. “fuck that hurts.” You cursed. “good, it’s supposed to.” another slapped made you jolt. “now count.”
“jae– shit!” you cursed as he didn’t let you get your words out, slapping your ass. “one!” you shouted. “good again “ he repeated. “tw-two.” He kept repeating his abuse on your ass, tears wielding in your eyes as you counted all the way until his desired number.
“Good.” He rubbed your sore cheeks. “you actually listened for once.” He grabbed your hair — yanking your hair back roughly, looking you in the eyes “get down on your knees.”
You sat in between his legs, your knees digging into the rug sure to leave them red — your face close to his hard on. “im always going down in you, bout time you give me something in return.” He unbuckled his pants, pushing them down to his ankles. “gonna suck me off real good.” He pulled his cock from his underwear, stroking himself off, his cock dripping with pre-cum from his tip on to your pouty lips.
You hadn’t done this in a while, jaemin always doted on you, so you probably only did it a few times in the early stages of your relationship after a while he just ended up saying it was fine. “go on.” he held the base of his cock tapping it on your lips. “put it in your mouth.”
You slowly sunk down on his cock, he groaned out throwing his head back, his hand resting on the bed, the other in your head. “you’re still just as bad.” Your eyes widening, as he pushed your head all the way down. “it’s like you’re not even trying.” The more he talked to you like that the more turned on you became, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. “have to do everything.”
He used your hair, guiding you up and down his shaft. “there you go, slowly.” he cursed under his breath. “use your tongue.” he hissed. “i said your tongue, not your teeth — are you dumb baby?” you moaned around his cock. “of course you like being degraded -fuck- i guess i assumed you liked being treated like a princess.”
He pulled you off him, slapping his cock against your lips. “that’s enough — want you now.” you went to lay down like you normally did but he stopped you. “no, it’s not about you tonight.” he laid back against the headboard. “tonight i want you to ride me, i want you to work for it.”
You’ve never ridden anyone, all of them doing the work for you. “i-i.” he picked you, making you straddle his lap. “i'll jerk off right now in front of you and you won’t get anything, if you want to cum, you ride me.” You were desperate to cum, biting your lip — grabbing the base of his cock, hovering above you. “sit.”
He pushed you down, his cock filling you up, you moaned out, holding yourself up by his chest. “jae-jaemin.” you moaned. “now move.” he commanded, you rocked your hips sloppily. “do it right.” He slapped your ass. “i-i c-cant.” you sobbed. “try.” He said deciding to help you just a bit, grabbed your hips rocking you back and forth. “fu-fuck just like that.” He let your waist go, leaving you on your own again.
It just wasn’t enough, you needed him. “jaemin.” You whined. “i-i need you.” He smirked. “yeah.” His hips bucking up. “why should i help you when -fuck- when all you’ve been is a bitch to me?” he grunted, slowly loosing his mind, wanting nothing more than to flip you over and fuck you like he’s used to. “why should i help you.”
“i-im so-sorry.” You stuttered. “i'll be good, i promise.” You sounded so pretty, begging like that. “you will?” he grunted. “no more being mean, and rude?” you nodded, promising him through tears. “i-i promise.”
He flipped you over,  pushing his cock deep into your cunt. “shit!” you screamed as he plowed into you, wrapping your leg around his waist. “shit that’s it.” he moaned. “be a good girl and take my cock.” You grabbed his bicep, eyes rolling to back of your head.
“that’s all you needed, to be fucked back into submission right?” he said grabbing your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “you’re gonna be my good girl again if i let you cum.” You nodded dumbly. “words.” he said, thrusting deeply inside you,  hitting that gummy spot. “ye-yes i promise.” You felt it coming all you was his word.
“cum.”
Your mouth dropped out, eyes rolling to back of your head as you came with a loud gasp of jaemins name, your head feeling deeper into a subspace as he fucked you through your orgasm. “pretty girl -fuck- gonna cum inside your pretty cunt okay?” you nodded. “pl-please cum inside me.”
His thrust began to falter as he came, his cum pouring into your cunt. “good girl.” He looked at your fucked out face. “there’s my good girl.”
He pulled out of your cunt, watching his cum leaking out of you, laying next to you, caressing the side of your face . “im sorry.” You pouted. “for being such a bitch.”
“it’s okay princess, i still love you and I still want to take care of my precious baby.” He kissed your temple. “just be nicer to me baby.” He said. “as long as you don’t make me ride you anymore.” He laughed. “I don’t ever want to do that again.” He nodded. “I won’t baby.”
“you’ll always be my pretty pillow princess.”
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©️LUVYENI
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