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#i feel like SOMEONE could have predicted i would have a thing for men in ombre button ups but i definitely didn't
lizthewriter · 6 months
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i'll take care of you, that's true / poly!billy loomis & stu macher
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PAIRING  billy loomis x stu macher x fem!reader
SUMMARY  it's been plainly obvious to your group of friends (and probably everyone in the entire school at this point) that you, stu, and billy harbored a heaping amount of feelings towards one another. see, the problem was that while billy and stu were completely aware of their feelings for each other and for you, you had made no efforts to be as obvious with your feelings as they did. stu was always launching some flirty line at you that made your heart stumble and insisted on paying for anything you wanted when you went out - billy offered to carry your book bag from class to class and you always caught him staring at you with this hungry look in his eye. you hadn't expected to spill your feelings towards them in the oddest way - when your depression claws it's way back from the dead.
TAGS  billy loomis x stu macher x fem!reader, fluff, angst, no hurt just comfort, happy ending, idiots in love, soft!romantic!stu, billy is a lil' inexperienced with those things called emotions, but we ball, reader is quite feminine, reader loves pink, reader has depression, no ghostface we die like men, implied stalking
QUOTE  "stand beside it, we can't hide the way you make us glow . . . i'd take care of you if you asked me to," - take care by beach house
WORD COUNT  1.5K
WRITTEN  10.25.2023
Stu thought back to the previous morning - you had walked into school in one of those cute pink numbers of yours that he knew Billy secretly loved. He watched you approach your locker from across the hall and open the door. Hoping to suprise you, he snuck up and hid behind the door, waiting for the inevitable moment when you would slam the door close and jump in suprise at his sudden appearance. It happened exactly as Stu predicted - you placed one last book in your locker and closed it shut, suddenly jolting when you noticed Stu, and clutching your heart through your chest.
"Geez, Stu, you scared the crap out of me," you said breathlessly, your mind on a heightened alert from the adrenaline of the jump scare. You noticed he was holding something behind his back and furrowed your brows, a questioning smile spreading across your face. "What's that?"
"Suprise!" Stu exclaimed loudly, revealing what he was hiding behind his back. You ignored the stares from your other classmates in the hall and bit back a grin as you graciously received his gift. Filled iside a plastic box were shortbread cookies filled with strawberry jam, powdered sugar covering the top.
"Aw Stu, you really shouldn't have," you said, unable to stop the flush from rushing to your cheeks. "Thank you, these look amazing! How did you know I liked shortbread?"
Stu shrugged as though he just happened to select the right cookies. But really, he had seen you buy something similar when he followed you out into town once. He also knew of many other foods you were paticularly fond of, which lead you to joke around that he had some sort of superpower, always knowing what food you liked. "Dunno, just reminded me of you, babe."
-
This morning, however, a very different aura surrounded you. You came in wearing one of your usual outfits, offering what seemed to be sweet smiles to classmates who greeted you in passing. But something was utterly wrong and Stu could definitely sense it.
This morning, he stood by Billy's locker, which was a little down the hall from yours. Stu had been so preoccupied in his own thoughts about you, wondering what was wrong and how he could fix it, that he hadn't been paying attention to Billy. He felt someone rap him sharply on the head and let out a yelp, turning to face Billy.
"Hey, that hurt, man!" He exclaimed, rubbing the back of his now stinging head.
"Well don't ignore me next time." Billy slammed close his locker and glanced back towards Stu. Curious about what had his friend so preoccupied, he followed Stu's line of sight to you. The edge of his lips curled up slightly. "Oh, I see what it is. That pretty little minx has you all wrapped around her finger, huh?"
"No - well, that too, but something's wrong with her," Stu said, worry etched into his expression. He watched as you slowly filled your locker with textbooks, your arms shaking weakly.
"Are you sure? I mean, now that you say that, she does look a little . . . pale." Billy went silent as the both of them watched you, mentally debating what to do. "I'm not really good at all that 'emotions' stuff. I think it would be better if you talked to her."
"All right, but at least come with me." Billy huffed, pretending as though it was all an inconvenience, but immediately followed Stu as he cautiously approached you. Today, there was no jumpscare when you closed the door to your locker. You offered yet another fake smile to the boys, but Stu couldn't help but notice the bags under your eyes.
"Hey boys," you said. "Look, I have a class soon, so I really think I should -"
"Are you okay?" Stu asked softly, bringing a hand up to caress against your cheek gently. You cringed away from him, causing a pang of hurt to echo through his heart.
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine." You couldn't meet his eyes anymore, much more focused on your feet now. What were you supposed to tell him? That you cried yourself to sleep last night? That there was some sort of gaping hole in your chest? And you couldn't even figure out why it was there? That, what, you barely enjoyed any of your old hobbies, that everyday chores were beginning to turn into difficult tasks?
"Please, Stu, just -"
"Don't push us away." Both of you glanced towards Billy - the two of you were surprised to hear him speak. "We just care about your well-being, that's all."
"Yeah, come on, just talk to us? We just want to help you, make you feel better."
You bit your bottom lip and the gears in your head turned - the boys could see the internal debate going on in your head. You grabbed both of their wrists, leading them to a nearby janitor's closet. Although it was only a few steps away, it felt like forever walking there, especially when you felt as though you were about to cry again.
Billy shut the door behind both of you, causing you to dissolve into a blubbering mess as soon as he did so. "I feel - so terrible all the time and . . . don't know why - can't talk to anyone." Your words were interrupted by sniffles, hiccups, and sobs.
"Babe . . ." Stu said with a frown, sitting you down on the janitor's small desk chair. Your gaze was directed towards the ground, so he got on both knees just so you would meet his eyes. "It's okay. I get like that too sometimes . . ."
"You . . . do?" Even Billy tilted his head, glancing towards Stu with an arched brow. Funnily enough, in their relationship, Billy had always been the one to talk about their problems, but never Stu.
"That's right babe. And most of the time I don't get it either - I just get sad and hopeless. And sometimes nothing can make it better. But I feel less shitty when I'm with my friends." He grabbed both of your hands and held them in his own, offering you a kind smile. "Hm? You can talk to us, pretty."
All your thoughts came out faster than intended and soon enough you were ranting quite vivaciously to the two of them, who both listened patiently and waited for you to finish before saying anything. You felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of your chest with each and every word that spilled from your lips. You wanted to say more, to get it all out. Suddenly, one paticularly heavy secret came to mind and you found guilt seeping through every vein in your body. You glanced between the two boys with trepidation. While Atu was watching you in admiration and understanding, Billy seemed lost in his own world, almost like he was in longing.
You had to admit that you were attracted to both of them, something that made you feel incredibly guilty. They were both your friends and you always felt as though you were hurting the other when you were paying paticular attention to only one of them.
"What is it, baby? Is there something else you want to get off your chest?" Stu asked.
You withdrew your hands from him, causing him to furrow his brows. "Well . . . there's something I need to tell the both of you. I owe it to you, to tell you . . . So, uh . . ." Your voice trailed off as you met Stu's puppy eyes once again. "I like you, both of you."
Stu grinned. "We like you too!"
You shook your head, standing up. Stu rose from the floor with you, a confused grin on his face. "No, you don't get it. I like like both of you and it's obvious the two of you feel the same way, but . . . I don't want to have to choose."
"No, I don't think you're getting it," Billy said, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning against and approaching you. "We like you too. We want you."
Stu grabbed your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Don't you see, we both love ya!" He exclaimed excitedly. A small bit of hope leaked into your expression and you looked up at them with those adorable, innocent eyes that had the both of them reeling.
"Really?"
"Really," said Billy.
"We'll always be here for you -" Stu boomed your nose, wrinkling his with affection. "- whenever and however you need us. So . . . let's play hooky! The two of us will take you out and we'll have a blast! Turn that frown upside down! What do you say?"
You bit back a shy smile and nodded. "That actually sounds . . . really nice."
609 notes · View notes
ophelieverse · 1 month
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Oppy my baby,can you please please please take in consideration to write something about my man Cregan Stark?🥺🥺
⊹˚₊only you could have called me back home
Cregan Stark x fem!reader
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-Summary:reader is from house Manderly and she meets Cregan when they are kids,during his stay at her house she reads him a book about mermaids to help him sleep during a storm.Years later he does the same thing for their children.
-I finally gave in and decided to try.This is the first time that I write for Cregan,even though i love him very much and i can’t wait to see him(I pictured in my mind Tom Taylor)so forgive me if this sucks.
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It was night,late evening.
The sky,which was usually a dark blue,was covered by a thick blanket of gray clouds that made the stars and that moon disappear,which were supposed to illuminate New Castle of White Harbor.The blue blazon with the green merman holding a trident,symbolizing House Manderly,was dancing in the wind.
A little girl,who seemed to be not older than eight years old,was observing the world and that summer storm,one of many she had seen in just a month.Sitting in her chamber,on the carpet in front of the window that brought into that small balcony,curled up and with her arms hugging her legs,she let her eyes get lost in counting the thousands of droplets that rested on that sheet of glass.
She began to stare at a drop of rain,trying to see it flow along the entire length of the window.But this one soon disappeared,bursting into smaller droplets or joining others.
For Lady Y/n Manderly,the rain made everything so fascinating.
She came closer to the glass,almost squashing her face against the door-windows and waiting for a thunder to arrive.She had never been afraid of thunderstorms,quite the contrary.She found them fascinating.She still couldn't conceive that all that noise and lights came from nature and not from something created by men.
Watching a thunderstorm was more interesting than reading a book.Her mother used to read her dozen of them to help her sleep at night,especially during storms like this one.But at the end,the books in their library all looked alike and never change final.If she didn't want to read them anymore she could just close them.While thunderstorms are unexpected and uncontrollable.But above all,always different.
People can never predict the duration or intensity of a thunderstorm.You can just try to guess or stay and observe it.And Y/n loved to see thunderstorms.
But that wasn't the case for everyone.
The little girl knew for sure that there was someone who instead hated them and had a big fear of them.A young boy,just of two years older than she was,the son of the protector of the North,had revealed that he was very afraid of storms during one.
Lord Rickon Stark had arrived to White Harbor four nights before,just in time for dinner,to discuss with Lord Desmond Manderly,Y/n father,about the union of their houses.A calm but still noisy storm was what welcomed them,alongside the blue and green blazon of New Castle.
Y/n didn't understand what was scary about those lights and noises,but she couldn't help but think about what the boy was feeling at the time.
That boy who was also her husband to be once they would be old enough to marry.They already knew each other,they had met in different occasions and places,yet they had never forged a particular bond or friendship.
Their characters were particularly different and they both knew that they would find themselves colliding easily if they became friends.Moreover, there had never been a particular opportunity to get to know each other better.They were always surrounded by their families,politicians and maidens.
They were simply two children,two heirs of big and powerful houses and one day they will become husband and wife.Nothing more,nothing less.
And yet,at that moment Y/n was just thinking.She was just thinking about Cregan.That was his name and what he had told her to call him when she had addressed him as “Lord Stark” with a polite bow.
Y/n wondered if he wasn't scared.
She remembered once,when there was a tournament in Lannisport,he didn’t showed up to see the horses in the morning when it started to rain.Once again,during a visit a the Wall he had been more restless than usual when he had heard the sound of the thunders.
But didn't the dark sky of the evening emphasize the whole thing even more?
Y/n loved night thunderstorms,she found them even more impressive.But also scary.Especially now that her mother was heavily pregnant and needed to stay in bed to rest,meaning that she couldn’t read her stories to help her sleep better.
In Y/n that fear gave a sudden adrenaline rush,but in Cregan no,she could have said it with certainty.So,after thinking about it for too long,the little girl got up,took the cloak on the chair and without even thinking anymore,she opened the window-door wide and within seconds she found herself on the balcony,while the rain was beginning to increase slowly.
That wing of the castle was where both Y/n and her brothers chambers were,the same place where young Cregan was staying,in the room right next to hers.
Y/n stayed for a while to observe the sky,and the drops of rainwater falling on the palm of her hand that she had turned upwards,fascinated by everything as a child could be.But she hadn't gone out to the balcony to admire all that,no.
If she had only wanted to do that,she would have been content to sit in front of the front door-windows as she had until then,instead of getting wet.
No,Y/n had gone out to check on Cregan.To make sure that he was alright.
Their balconies were connected,divided only by a low wall of light bricks.She had often seen the young boy on that balcony in those days,watching people occupying those crowded streets or just wanting to breathe some air.
And on those occasions they had just waved to each other politely with kind smiles.
Y/n knew that the window on that balcony led to the room where Cregan was staying.
Still in the rain,half protected by the windowsill of the upper floor,she barely reached out her neck to observe the young boy room.But it was dark and the curtains were pulled,a sign that Cregan was probably already sleeping,as he would on any night.
The little Lady wanted to call herself a fool for coming out of her room just to make sure that he was okay,a boy whose she exchanged a few words and nothing else.The same boy that one day would have been her husband but the she didn’t knew nothing about.
Yet,in some way,she was relieved.Relieved that he was not awake yet and afraid of those thunders.
A part of Y/n wanted to go back into her room and go back admiring that storm from behind the glass plate of the window,but first she got closer to the wall that separated her from her neighbor.
To,she said to herself,just to check more closely.Just to make sure.
But check what exactly?
Y/n shook her head.She really had to be out of her mind if now she was worried about an almost - stranger that seemed to not like her at all.She made to retrace her steps,when a curled figure caught her attention.
Sitting on the ground,with his shoulders leaning against the wall of that balcony and with a black cloak on him,he stood with his head hidden by the hood.Still like a statue,with his arms around his legs.Half of his body was protected under the windowsill,while the other half was being wet by that rainwater.
Y/n tilted her head to the side,confused.
“Who is that?And what are they doing?”she wondered.
Even though she knew very well who it was.It couldn't be anyone other than him.
«Cregan?»Y/n spoke without having the slightest control over her voice,attracting the attention of the boy.
Cregan raised his head,which he had kept sunk between his legs until that moment,turning his head then towards the young lady on the other side of the wall.His eyes were usually clear and calm,but now they were wide open with astonishment.
Wide in a way that Y/n couldn't but find adorable.
She ignored these thoughts and just reopened her mouth«What are you doing out here?Don't you see .. ?It's raining.»she asked with a soft tone.
“As if i hadn't noticed,Y/n”Cregan wanted to tell her with a little voice.He wouldn't have put on his cloak if he hadn't seen the rain.
But a part of him decided to keep his mouth closed.Lady Y/n was immensely pretty under the pale moonlight and wet by the rain.He had always been fascinated by her,by the way her eyes shined bright and the way she talked fast about something she liked and knew about.She made him nervous to speak whenever he was around her,she was far smarter and wiser than him even at that young age,always so kind and he was afraid to make a fool out of himself.Especially when he was still scared of thunderstorms.
Cregan didn't answer,just staring at her with his big blue eyes.
«Are you hurt?»Y/n brown furrow as she scanned his pale face to find something.
The rain kept falling and it seemed that its intensity continued to increase as the seconds passed.The trees in front of that castle moved to the right and left,driven by a force they already knew,but which they were still unable to repel.
Cregan shook his head and then spoke«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he just said.
Y/n nodded«I know that.But why are you outside?»she offered him a kind smile.
Cregan seemed to think about it for a while, undecided whether to say everything to her or keep shut up.But there was something in her,something that was pulling in from the inside.Something that was screaming at him to tell her everything that he was afraid of,because with her it would be safe,she would have kept him safe.She would’ve understood him and comforted him.
He chose the second option and returned to stare at an indefinite point of his cloak,hoping that the young lady with wet hair and sweet eyes would soon leave,leaving him alone.As he had only been until recently.
One day Cregan would have been Lord Stark,protector of the great North and he needed to learn to not be afraid of thunderstorms on his own.But Y/n presence,the little girl that would become his wife,was louder than any thunder and brighter than any light.
In fact she had no intention of leaving.
«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he found himself repeating and then adding«I really can't stand them.»he murmured.
She listened to him carefully,standing in front of that little wall,while Cregan continued to turn his back on her and look down as he spoke again:
«I can't sleep when there are thunderstorms.And being alone in the room,in the dark with only sudden flashes to illuminate,is scary.»he explained quietly.
Y/n nodded sympathetically,although she didn't find anything scary at all in his description.But for once she tried to put herself on Cregan side.
«So why don't you go to your father?My mother always makes me sleep with her when I have nightmares.»she asked with curiosity.
Cregan shook his head,clutching in that heavy cloak«He doesn’t want to.He say I have to overcome my fears sooner or later.»he said,with a glint of sadness in his eyes.
Y/n curled her nose,confused«And do you get over them by standing in the rain?»squeezing her hands to create a little bit of warmth.
This time he took some time to respond.
Then,shifting his gaze towards the horizon«It's less scary.I can see the lights of the villages and the boats passing by and I know I'm not the only one awake.I know I'm not alone.»he found himself admitting«It's less scary.Or at least I think…»
He didn't know why he was saying these things.Especially to her.For all his ten almost eleven years he had carried that fear of his with him without saying anything to anyone.Revealing his fear only to himself.And seeking comfort only in him.
A comfort that most of the time was not enough.
His father kept telling him that he was grown up by now,that he had to overcome his fear of thunderstorms by now.A fear that was too childish for his age.For the Lord he was destined to be.How could he protect people when he was the first to be scared?He needed to start acting like a man.
But how adult can a ten year old be?
Without meditating on his words,Y/n replied«And are you going to stay out here all night?Until the thunderstorm stops?»her angel face was worried.
Cregan just nodded,without staring at her directly in the eyes.The little girl made a grimace that the other could not see.It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.Yet she still didn't find the strength to leave him alone.Leave him there alone and go back to her room.
Y/n had felt,she had felt for a few seconds,almost a perceptible thread that drew her to Cregan.Maybe she was just imagining everything. Maybe it was just her childish mind that was playing tricks on her.Or maybe it was just that summer storm fault.
She didn't know,but now she felt tied to the boy with the dark cloak and blue eyes.
«Come.»Y/n voice was firm and warm.
Cregan jolted,surprised to still hear the young girl voice.He thought she had returned to the heat of her room by now.And instead there she is,on the other side of the low wall,reaching out to him with a pure smile on her face.
“She’s cute when she smiles.”Cregan immediately thought,noticing her soft eyes and all her teeth shining in the light of the torches in the street.
He also found her so reassuring.That kind of safety that he desperately needed.
«Where?»he asked confused.
Y/n smiled at him again,getting closer and reaching out her hand again,almost touching his face making him shiver.
«If you spend the night out here you're going to get sick.If you don't want to be alone,I'll keep you company.»she stated fiercely and he knew nothing would’ve changed her mind.
They were simple words.Words of a child of eight,almost nine,years old.Yet Cregan swore he had never heard such beautiful words.No one had ever given him such attention and didn't know whether or not to trust that young lady.
They had met numerous times and now they were even betrothed to each other,but they weren’t exactly friends.
And Cregan was very skeptical to those he knew very little.Especially the ones that made him feel nervous just by looking at him.
He decided to refuse Y/n invitation.
But when he made to decline the offer,the first of many flashes lit up the sky,followed by a noise so loud that raised Cregan hair,or more commonly called thunder.
The boy snapped to his feet in fear.Perhaps the idea of going out,so as not to stay in the dark of his room,had not been the best.Or maybe it was the worst idea that had ever occurred to him and only now did he find it stupid.
«So?Are you coming or not?»Y/n called for his attention again,noting the thin veil of blush on his pale cheeks.
She was younger than him by only two years,yet she was still more mature than him.She had this aura surrounding her,of someone that would have took care of him.Someone he could really start to trust and lay down his strength.A little sun,personal and only for him,to remind him that the storms he was so afraid of were only temporary while she would have been by his side forever.
Cregan found himself shaking Y/n hand,who helped him climb over the wall that divided them, and in a moment he was on the other balcony.
He crossed his eyes again with those of his future wife,who immediately answered him with another sweet smile and opened the window door,to let him enter in the warmth of her room and protect him from that storm.
Immediately closed the door behind them and,after a moment of uncertainty she spoke first«Give me your cloak,i’ll put it here with mine so that tomorrow the servants can wash them.»she told him,taking her off to remain in her pink nightgown.
Cregan blushed even more as he nodded as if in a trance and took off his dark cloak,handing it over to her and revealing a pastel-colored pajamas.
He thought it was impossible for a room to look like it owner,but Y/n bedroom was just like her:a mess of colors,books everywhere and with a pleasant warmth that made him feel safe.
«Why are you still awake?»Cregan suddenly asked,trying to not move around too much.
The little girl took two pillows from her bed and a blanket,walking to the fluffy carpet in front of the old fireplace that the servants had lighted up before she went to bed,once the thunderstorm had started.
«I like to watch the storms.»she said,patting the empty space next to her with one hand«Also,now that my mother is pregnant and my father stays up with his advisors,i need to check on her.»she continues.
Cregan looked at her carefully,the long hair falling free on her shoulders,her perfect face.He was right,she so much mature than he was,already taking care of everyone around her at such a young age,just like a proper lady should.
As he took place next to her on the pavement,still keeping a proper distance between them,Cregan realized that he didn't know anything about her.But he knew how much she loved her mother as he always saw the two of them holding hands.He didn't know if she had the same relationship with her father,who seemed to prefer her older brothers,but he still didn't have enough closeness to ask her for more information.
In fact,they had absolutely no closeness and it could be seen in the silence that fell between the two children.One of those silences that always arise in similar situations,when two people don't know each other but have to spend time together.
«Would you like to do something?»Y/n calm voice sounded even more melodious up close.
She tried to mask that awkwardness with a polite tone,asking her guest with a kind expression.
Cregan spoke little and for the rest of the time he just agreed or disagreed on a certain statement.
The younger of the two was shrinking her minds to think of some kind of game to play together, but the boy next to her would just stare at her,frowning,as if he was annoyed by that situation,while standing close to window of that room like he wanted to escape that situation.
Y/n curled her nose,bored by that sudden superior attitude that Cregan was carrying on himself.
«Look,you can still go back in the rain if you prefer.»she told him,with a sour tone.
She felt bad to see him frightened by that thunderstorm,but if he didn't even show her a minimum of gratitude or a spirit of collaboration, then he could very well leave.Y/n was a sunny child,always with a smile on her face and ready to raise the morale of anyone who needed it.
But“This boy is really unpleasant”she thought.
Cregan crossed his arms to his chest,squeezing his eyes and staring at her,offended and angry at the same time.He thought that he shouldn’t have accepted her invitation and that both their fathers had made a mistake by promising them.They would never get along.
He could very well go back to his room and overcome that storm on his own,as he had always done until then.He didn’t need Y/n help.He made a grimace in the direction of the little girl,who responded to the gesture by raising her eyes to the sky.
But when he was about to open the window door and return to his room,without his dark cloak,a flash illuminated the sky and his face.
Cregan eyes went wide,as he was falling backwards and ending up on the ground on his butt as he waited for the arrival of the thunder that did not take long to arrive.His lower lip trembled,while he couldn't move any muscle.
He hated how thunderstorms could do this to him.He hated how they could make him tremble and frighten.
“They are a normal thing,dictated by nature”his father had always told him.
Yet Cregan didn't believe it.He continued to hate thunderstorms.
And something told him that this fear of his would never go away.
«Cregan.... are you all right?»he heard a soft voice behind his back.
Cregan looked up and saw Y/n standing on her knees on the carpet and he only remembered at that moment of her presence.
The boy gasped,looking for an answer.But before he could speak,another flash lit up the room,and before the thunder could be heard,Cregan had already put his hands on his ears.
The arrogant facade,which he had previously put on,had now completely crumbled, revealing his insecure and frightened side.
Y/n didn't know what to do.
The annoyed face she had a little while ago,was gone.Now she was really worried for him.She just wanted to find a way to distract him,and to put an end to that clash of lights that illuminated the room.
Cregan did not move,with his head resting on his bent knees,and the palms of his hands were still covering his ears,in the vain hope of not hearing that almost metallic and shackled noises.
«It’s alright,don't worry.»Y/n tried to reassure him.But it seemed that no one could move the young boy.
«They usually just make a big noise and then they go away.»she continued with a reassuring voice getting closer to him.
But Cregan was still shaking, scared,and Y/n didn't know what to do.She was never scared of thunderstorms.She would have liked to hold him tight in a hug,to drive away all his fear.But she knew that if she did,she would only make things worse.
In the meantime,Cregan continued to make himself small,smaller and smaller,curled up almost on himself on that light pavement.
«I mean…deep down it's just water,isn't it?Water and lights.As if it were an ocean... and the oceans are beautiful,aren't they,Cregan?»she asked with a hint of hope.
Y/n was used to the water,she lived near the sea and she had grew up running up and down on her fathers boats with her brothers.Her mothers read her stories about fishes,sailors,mermen and mermaids.
And while he did not respond,too busy controlling his fear,Y/n came up with an idea.
«I know what to do!»she almost screamed,catching Cregan attention and shicking around the room,as if looking for something.
The boy looked at her confused,forgetting – but only for a short time – of the thunderstorm.
«There you are.»Y/n exhaled,almost relieved.
Cregan blinked,observing the more confusion she had created throughout that room,the books scattered on the floor and the cabinets wide open,just for that medium-sized old book she now held in her hands,with a proud and satisfied smile.He didn't understand what use that book could have,but he didn't breathe,limiting himself to observing the young girl sitting carefully next to him and opening it.
And then millions of billions of fishes began to swim between the old pages.Cregan mouth widened into an “o”, but he quickly closed it again before Y/n could notice his astonishment.It's just a very simple book of fairy tales,he said to himself.
Yet,in some way,it had distracted him.
«If you lie down on the bed,you can see them better.»Y/n spoke,making herself comfortable on her bed and starting to turning the pages.
Cregan grimaced,watching how she was smiling.That wasn’t proper.
«Why should I lie down-»yet another thunder«Alright... I lie down.»he immediately changed his mind.
He hurriedly took the steps that separated him from that bed,before sinking into the lavander sheets that smelled of flowers and vanilla.
Y/n by his side smiled at him.But Cregan didn’t,remaining impassive and jolting at every thunder.She closed the curtains around her bad,only the soft light of the candle on the nightstand remain.The 'lightning' factor had been solved.
«They're beautiful,aren’t they?»she said,tracing with her fingers the different fishes.
They were.Their shapes,colors,sizes were mesmerizing.
Cregan didn't know to answer again.Those bright,fishes seemed to moved quickly on all those pages in a continuous flow.They were simple,so damn simple,yet they had caught the his attention.
«Yes,they ar–»he tried to agree with her,but here's yet another thunder made him jump out of fear.
Y/n by his side watched him close his eyes and plug his ears with both hands.
She had to find a way to distract him from the sounds too.
«You see him?»she turned the page and pointed to a strange figure on the right corner.
A man with a tail of a fish.
Cregan turned to her,taking his hands off his ears and moving his eyes on what Y/n finger was pointing to.
«It’s a merman?»he sounded uncertain,the figure on the book looked like the blazon of house Manderly.
Y/n nodded her head confirming his question«They said that he loved another mermaid and when the pirates had captured her,driven by grief,he turned his body in marble creating White Harbor.»she explained him,showing him another picture of the place where now she was living.
Cregan looked confused,his eyebrows raising«Why would he do that?»
The girl next to him sighed,her shoulder touching his,the sweet perfume of her hair was tickling his nose.She was warm and soft and made his stomach twist and his hands sweat.
«I guess that he couldn’t live without her and preferred to die.»she simply answered«Years ago i used to cry when my mother read me this story.»she continued as she flipped the page.
In the dim light,he could see that her eyes were a little glassy and only now he remembered that just like him,she was still a child with fears like him and stories that made her cry in her mother arms.
«How about her?»Cregan eyes and hand went to point to a female picture.
A mermaid with a red tale and long wet red hair on her shoulders,sitting on a rock near the coast.Her beautiful expression seemed pained,her mouth opened as if she was saying something.In the distance seemed that a storm was coming,the waves crashing into the shore,dark clouds on the horizon.
Y/n smiled,stretching the book out to him so that he could take a better look«She was a princess that fell in love with a sailor.Her father,the King of the fourteen seas had forbidden their love.»she started to explain with a soft tone«They could see each other only on the beginning of the Long Summer,when her father was away in the ocean»she said.
Cregan yawned«And how did they knew when the Long Summer came?»he seemed genuinely interested now.
«The storm.»Y/n quickly answered«It was her way to let him know that she was waiting for him.She was calling him back to her.»in her expression he could find a hint of teasing.
He shuddered,the thing that scared him the most,for this children book,was just a mermaid calling for her lover.
«But how does he know?»he asked again and his voice was becoming softer,his eyes closing a bit,yet he stayed very curious about the story.
«Does he know what?»Y/n whispered.
«That it was her.»he continued.
«Because he had loved no else but her in his life.Only her could have called him back home.»she explained and he swore he could’ve seen her eyes shine bright.
«I hate her father.»Cregan mumbled.
He found it stupid,it was just a fairy tale to help people sleep,but if the mermaid father didn’t get in the way tonight he would’ve been scared.And that’s also must had been the reason why she wasn’t afraid of them.
Y/n giggles made him blush,as she shook a little onto him«But you know what’s the best part of it?For the rest of the summer there wouldn’t be any other storms,just the bright sun as the two of them could be together.»she whispered.
It was a way to say that after every thunderstorm that would’ve been the sun.Always.
«Wasn’t she scared of her father founding out that they were still together?»his voice was sleepy and his eyes heavy.
Y/n shook her head«Love is stronger than fear.»she stated«Don’t you find it beautiful?»she said then,a dreamy look in her eyes.
There was no answer.
Y/n turned to him,finding him with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open.His chest would rise and fall at a regular pace,while his slight breathing could be heard.She smiled at that sight as she stroked his hair.
Cregan had fallen asleep.Y/n was satisfied.Satisfied and happy.
She succeeded in her intent,help him and distract him from the thing that scared him the most.She wondered what Cregan would do at this time if Y/n hadn’t invited him?
He would probably still have been awake.Because the thunderstorm hadn't stopped,no,it had never stopped.The mermaid was still calling for her lover.
The flashes,however,had mixed in the images on the pages and the noise of thunder had been lost among the stories of Y/n mermaids.Cregan had been so busy observing those images drawn on the book and hating the King of the seas,that he completely forgot about the thunderstorm.
Y/n closed the book,placed it carefully on her nightstand and reached out to grab a thin sheet at the bottom of their feet and covered the young boy who slept well by her side.
«Good night,Cregan.Tomorrow there will be the sun,i promise you.»she whispered kissing his forehead and drifting to sleep too.
And for the first time,after so many years,he slept.After so many years,Cregan was sleeping peacefully with a thunderstorm.
On any day in the early summer,ten years later,Lady Y/n Stark of Winterfell was laying in the bed she shared with her Lord husband.
Wife and husband,that’s what her and Cregan had been for the past four years.But before pronouncing their vows in front of the Seven and their families,they had became the best of friends.
When did they start calling each other that way?When did they become friends?Could they find a precise moment when they had gone from being strangers to even best friends?Were they able to establish the exact moment when their bond changed?
No,they couldn’t.
Maybe it was the year after that fateful rainy night.Maybe it was the next month when Cregan had spent all of his moments and attention in Y/n presence,falling in love with her more and more.
Or maybe it had happened at the exact time their hands had touched,when Y/n had proposed to be together in that thunderstorm,to mark the point of change for their relationship.
They didn't know that though.Neither of them knew for sure.But they didn't even ask.They fell in love with each other before they got married and that was that mattered.There are bonds that are born before the interlocking of the hands and connections that are born before touching each other.It was just pretty to think that,all this time,there was some kind of invisible string that was tying them together.
Anyone who cared for Cregan had to understand that he needed a little looking after.Someone who could help him sleep,who reminded him that he was just human and that he could still a child sometimes.And Y/n understood that,she held him gently,far more gently that anyone ever did.She stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep at night,she stood next to him to greet the arrival of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and supported him in his decision to fight for the Dragon Queen.
All because she loved him more than anything and because he loved her.To love and to be loved was to rest.
Yet,now that Cregan was away,on the Wall of the great north with the young prince,Y/n couldn’t seem to find sleep.It was raining heavily outside,the long summer had arrived earlier that year and a violent storm was what welcomed it.
The pale rays of the moon filtered through the clouds,the wind was blowing against the windows,the lights of the lightning shaped the dark room she was in.
Cregan had ruined her,she thought to herself,ever since they got married and started to share the bed she couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t next to her,holding her in his arms,kissing her lips softly and whispering how much he loved her.But she knew that,with the war at their doorstep,he was busy with the young prince Jacaerys who came two weeks ago in ask for the help of the North.
Her husband was a man of honor,the Lord of Winterfell that never forget his oaths.
When a particular loud thunder broke through the quietness of the castle,Y/n got up from her bed.Taking the candle on the nightstand,she started walking down the dark corridor to reach her children chambers.Her sons,Rickon and Brandon,only four and two years old,looked exactly like their father:true men of the north but with their mother eyes and kind smile.
Just like their father they were scared of storms,it took her hours to put them to bed that night since the first drop of rain had hit the ground.They both reminded her the first time that she had spent with Cregan during one of those,curling up on her as she read them one of her books to help them sleep.
But that night was different,after two weeks of writing letters and longing,Cregan was finally home.As she quietly opened the door,the candle that Y/n was holding in her hand almost fell,when she saw her husband sitting on a chair in between the two beds where their sons seemed to sleep so soundly and well.
He was still wearing his dark fire coat and his long were wet,the tip of his nose red from the cold,while in his hands he was holding a old fairy tale book that they both knew very well.As if he had heard her behind the door,he smiled,and his face was like the sun.
He had came back as soon as he had heard the first sounds of the thunders,like a sailor bewitched by the melody of a siren voice.His sons were the first ones to greet him,running barefoot down the hallways to reach comfort in their father strong arms.
Cregan had been there before,his heart clenched in his chest as he dried the tears off their eyes and saw the fear on their little faces.But he knew what he had to do,unlike his father,he would always be there for help his children no matter what.
«The mermaid had waited all winter for her lover return,her voice guided him through the storm.»his voice was quiet and soft like a warm blanket«With the first lights of the new sun,he came back to her.»in his hands the hold book.
His oldest son yawned«But wasn’t he afraid of the storm?»Rickon asked,holding his teddy bear closer to his chest.
«He was.»Cregan nodded«But you know what is stronger than fear?»he whispered,noticing his younger son fast asleep.
Rickon shook his head,his eyes fighting to urge to close«What?»he chirped.
«Love.»his father simply answered«The idea of coming back to his lover was stronger than the fear of the storm.»Cregan stood up,caressing his son head.
«One day i want to love someone this much.Just like you love mama.»Rickon murmured sleepy,with a little smile on his face.
«And you will.»he promised«One day you will have someone that will help you overcome your fears and that will always call you back home when you are wondering too far.»he kissed both of his sons forehead.
Cregan was still a little nervous about storms,but that night he was finally back home as sun on water.Y/n reached for him and skimmed her hands over the light of him.
«I missed you.»she whispered on his lips,kissing him sweetly.
Cregan was holding her in his arms,gently caressing her hair,his forehead on hers«I saw the storm and i knew.»he smiled,trailing his lips on her chin and cheeks.
Y/n shivered,not only because his icy fingers were rubbing up and down her back,but because only her could understand the meaning of those words.The intimacy of having something only them could share with each other.
«So you came back early because of the storm?»she giggled as his beard tickled her beautiful face.
He smiled even more,tightening his grip on her smaller body«I came back because of you.Only you could have called me back home.»he whispered placing a kiss on her lips.
The smell of her hair,the taste of her mouth,the feeling of her skin seemed to have gotten inside of him or in the air all around him.She had become a physical necessity,not only to ease his fear,but to have someone to come back to.
She placed her head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat beating alongside hers.They stood there for a moment more,embracing each other,in the dark corridor.
«Do you hear it?»Y/n softly asked suddenly.
«Hear what?»Cregan voice was low.
«The sound of the rain.»she explained,closing her eyes and relaxing against his touch.
For a while they just listened to the incessant ticking of the rain,while a thousand fish continued to swim on the pages of their book.
But suddenly a flash illuminated the corridor,followed by the due thunder.
Y/n jolted,expecting her husband to do the same.
Yet this was not the case«Aren't you afraid of thunderstorms anymore?»she teased him.
«How can I be afraid of thunderstorms when I'm by your side?»he said,caressing her cheek lovingly.
«Tomorrow there will be the sun.»she smiled against him,brighter than any light.
She was right,after the storm there was always the warm weather and Y/n was the golden sun at the horizon.That one thing that gave him hope for a brighter future,the only one that could bring him back home.Because his sleepless nights are better with her than any nights could ever be alone.
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cuubism · 1 month
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some canon-verse trans Hob for the lovely @five-and-dimes who recently got top surgery! 🥳🥰 congratulations, I'm truly so happy for you, my friend. please accept this humble offering
--
“So, it actually started on a dare,” Hob says, on the day he tells Dream the story of him. Or of this part of him, anyway.
Normally, Hob gets a bit guarded the first time he tells someone he’s trans. It’s hard to predict with absolute certainty how people will react, especially ones he’s just become romantically involved with. He’s had it go poorly, to say the least, in the past.
He doesn’t feel that way with Dream. It’s not because there’s so much trust between them—they’re still new, after all. No, it’s something about Dream himself. For all his prickly and standoffish nature, being close to him feels like sinking into a warm lake, into a dark sleep where secrets and hidden wishes float up like glowing reeds to the surface. Deep, personal feelings feel safe with Dream; he cradles them in his hands and soothes them. Or that’s how it feels, when Hob is touching him.
Personification of dreams, indeed.
“A dare?” Dream echoes.
“Sort of," Hob says. "Got frustrated with people saying women should or shouldn’t do this or that or the other thing, so I decided if they felt so strongly about it I’d just be a man. Moved somewhere no one knew me, dressed differently, got stronger, practiced the sword—and that was that. No one seemed to care much, once you were at war. So long as you could swing a sword and not get yourself killed.”
“A choice, then,” Dream says. He’s listening very intently, hands folded on his knees, untouched tea on the coffee table before him.
“At first. Was only after I’d been living that way for a few decades—before and after we met—that I realized while there might be a handful of women out there living as men for the freedom of it, that they didn’t all like it. Given the choice they’d rather just be women in a more equal world. You know?”
Dream hums in understanding.
“But I didn’t want to go back,” Hob continues. “I felt like... who I'd become was the truth of me all along.”
“Identity, while not wholly immutable, is resilient against adversity and circumstance,” says Dream. “You found what your heart wanted you to be, if in a circuitous manner.”
“You seem very unbothered by it,” Hob observes, sipping his tea.
Dream frowns. “Why would I be bothered by it?”
“Dunno.” Apparently he can’t fully shake that this’ll put a wedge in us feeling. “People sometimes are. Feel deceived, or something like that. So they say.”
“If they are deceived, it is by their own assumptions,” Dream says, with disdain. “You should be as you dream yourself, Hob. No more nor less. Put aside these petty physical trappings.”
“I do actually have to live in these ‘physical trappings’ even if you don’t, you silly thing.” He can’t help laughing. “Besides, I rather like being some kind of living creature in the world, rather than what? A ghost? Best I can do is make this body as close to how it should be as possible.”
Hob’s come to like his body, for the most part, in the form that he’s made it. He didn’t always. But he needs a body of some kind to be alive, and he likes being alive. So what he couldn’t change, he made peace with.
Besides, they have hormone treatments nowadays. Brilliant stuff. Makes it so much better.
“Anyway, now you know. I wanted you to. Since we’re together.” It’s still a marvel. Together.
“Thank you,” says Dream, with evident sincerity. “It is a privilege to be gifted your secrets.”
“Not really a secret, but I get what you mean.” He takes Dream’s hand, just to touch him, and admits, “Telling it to you is like… I don’t know. Feels like when I was younger and first admitted out loud, ‘I’m a man. I want to stay like this.’”
It hasn’t been a proper secret in a very long time. But giving it to Dream is like the freedom of releasing a held breath, even so.
“I am the harbor and cradle of dreams,” Dream says in reply. He traces his fingers over Hob’s. Does Dream’s strange form just spring from the ether? Hob wonders. Or does he have to choose it? The way Hob chose his? “Dreams of being and becoming… these are most precious for they grow from tough soil. I can only protect them, I cannot create them. You must do that. And I expect that were I to find you in the Dreaming, there would be a fantastic garden there, indeed.”
Dream himself is the most fantastical thing. “Well, darling, just know your work is appreciated.”
Dream’s lips tip up in a tiny smile. When he meets Hob’s gaze again, his eyes have gone dark and starry. He folds Hob into a hug, and—
oh, it’s like being hugged by the universe itself.
Hob feels the light breeze of a warm dark night, when he’d lain by the dying fire in a war camp in the French countryside, and looked up at a million stars and first whispered to himself what if this is really who I am? Dream is that breeze and those stars. The dying embers that had lit him as he’d run his hands over his body and felt it differently than he ever had before, and been terrified because what would it mean?—but also thrilled and alive. Dream is the night wrapping around him in that moment, the night that was listening to his dreams no matter how quietly he admitted them, Dream is that and more and the voice in his heart telling him it would be okay.
A younger, more uncertain Hob would have needed this. Hob now is older, and he already knows who he is and what he wants, but he falls into Dream’s embrace all the same. A tear slips from his eye, and Dream kisses his cheek, wiping the tear away with his tongue before leaning their heads together.
“I could craft you any body you wanted in the Dreaming,” he says lowly. “However I think the one you have made with your own hands is more remarkable.”
Oh, God, he’s going to tear up again. “Dream, you are the most beautiful, wonderful thing.”
Dream hums in pleasure at the words, and lets Hob hold him close, lets him cradle his head to his chest, a dream kept close to his heart. One that he knew as soon as he saw it walk into the White Horse. Sooner even than he truly knew himself.
Then Dream looks up at him with a hopeful expression. “With these truths revealed, are we able to be intimate?”
Hob laughs so hard he has to tip his head back against the couch. “Wow. One track mind with you, isn’t it? I spill my heart and that’s what I get?”
Dream grumbles, tucking his face in against Hob’s neck to press his lips to Hob’s throat. “I find myself impatient of late.”
“Knew all along you were only with me for my body.” He’s grinning, though. Can’t stop.
“Well. Considering it is such a lovely one.” He plucks at Hob’s shirt buttons. Lecherous little nightmare.
It feels fucking good, though, to be desired.
“C’mere, then,” he says, and drags Dream into his lap.
Dream settles there with a purr, starts playing with Hob’s hair, but says, “I would not truly derail this moment, nor distract from your feelings if you do not wish it.”
“Oh, I wish it. You’ve no idea how much I want you right now. You’re like a prize.” He cradles Dream’s beloved face between his hands. “Stick around for long enough and you’ll get the most incredible Dream at the end of it.”
“Or at the beginning,” Dream says, and Hob’s heart swells so much to hear him voice that that he has to kiss him.
When he does, Dream makes a low, pleased sound, settling deeper in his lap. Yes, this moment, this life, is certainly the prize for all of those years hanging onto those dreams:
the dream of his lover
and the one of himself.
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halsteadlover · 6 months
Text
𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
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*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Will Halstead x Fem!Reader.
• Requested: yes by anon.
• Summary: danger is always behind the corner and you learn to never let your guard down when you find yourself in a situation between life and death. Will your husband be able to save you? Will he find you in time?
• Warnings: mention of domestic violence, stab wound, blood, cursing, Will is kind of a dumbass at the beginning (what can we say? Men…)
• Word count: 5642.
• A/N: I fucking hate how this turned out bye. I’m sorry for any mistake or grammar error.
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That morning everything seemed normal.
You treated patients, cured some, discharged others and between one break and another you wasted no time going to your husband to give him a little kiss.
“What do you want eat tonight baby?” he asked. You and Will were in the doctors' break room during one of the aforementioned breaks, only the two of you in there. You were sitting on the small couch next to each other, his arm around your shoulders while you ate a bag of chips.
“Do you want to cook?”.
He looked at you for a moment and you chuckled at his expression. You both had to do a double shift that day so you knew neither of you would even want to go near the kitchen once you got back home.
“I’d like Mexican, what you think?”.
“Hell yeah! You know I never say no to Mexican food.”
He laughed at the enthusiasm you showed, meanwhile playing with strands of your hair. “Mexican it is then.”
You continued to devour the chips under your husband’s gaze who looked at you as if he had seen a mystical creature for the first time. “What? I’m hungry.” You babbled with your mouth half full.
“You don't even share with your beloved husband? So greedy.”
You glared at him before taking the last chip left in the bag and shoving it into your mouth, moaning heartily in his face. “No matter how much I love you, you know very well I don't share my food with anyone.”
He rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Wipe your mouth you pretty little bitch.”
But before you could reach for a tissue he came closer to you and licked the corner of your mouth, bursting out laughing when you pushed him away, wiping yourself with a tissue from the coffee table in front of you. “Ew Will you're disgusting!”
“Disgusting? You don't seem to complain when you take my dick in...-”
You covered his mouth with your hand before he could finish his sentence and let someone hear, feeling him smile as his eyes glistened at you. You should’ve predicted though that in true child style, he’d lick the palm of your hand.
“Will for fuck’s sake! Stop it!”.
“I can’t! God baby you're so easy to piss of,” he continued laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. You looked at him sideways before wiping your hand on his white coat. “C’mon give me a kiss now, come on.”
He wrapped his arms around your hips, trying to pull you towards him to kiss you while you tried to push him away by pressing your hands on his chest.
“No! Go away!”.
You continued to fight like children until, however, that playful atmosphere was interrupted when the door opened and Maggie entered.
“Here you are! Stop acting like lovebirds and go back to work. We have two new patients, victims of a car crash.”
After quickly washing your hands you left the break room, following Will and Maggie. You and Will exchanged a look before splitting up to go to the two patients.
The patient you took into your care – whose name you found out was Amanda – was in a critical condition: fractures of the femur and humerus not to mention the small fractures in almost her entire body, a sprained arm that would’ve required a cast, an internal hemorrhage due to the rupture of the spleen.
As you and the nurses worked to stabilize Amanda as quickly as possible, you couldn't help but notice something that bothered you quite a bit.
On her lower back, around her arms, on her thighs there were bruises that were not compatible with the dynamics of the car crash and which based on their almost faded color seemed to date back to some time ago.
“Amanda, did you have another accident a few days ago?” You asked her, your voice low so the rest of the team wouldn't hear you. She looked at you with a heartbroken expression and her eyes filled with tears before shaking her head.
“I'm just very clumsy and distracted, I often fall or bump into furniture and doors.”
Her voice was shaking and your heart tightened, knowing it was a complete lie.
“Amanda… You're safe here okay? Say one word, anything and whoever did this won't hurt you again...”
“No, no, no, no,” she became agitated and her heart monitor began to beep from her rapid heartbeat. “Please don't say anything doctor… He… Please. He's a good husband, he's just a little tired and stressed lately.”
“Hey, hey, it's okay Amanda, it's okay. I'm just here to help you.” You shook her hand and she nodded weakly. “But whatever he told you, it isn’t…-”
“It’s fine just… Just cure me.” She tore her eyes away from yours, bringing them to the ceiling even if more tears continued to fall.
It was clear that Amanda was a victim of domestic violence, she was literally terrified of her husband. You felt helpless, your heart broke for her even if you couldn’t even imagine what she was going through.
You were treating that woman knowing she’d go home and her husband would start beating her again. What kind of doctor were you if you hadn't helped her?
But how could you help someone who didn't want to be helped?
You should’ve called the police, but what would you have said to them? It was your assumption even if all the bruises and healed bone fractures were evidence of physical abuse, but you knew how the police worked, they couldn't do anything if there was no complaint from the victim. And you knew if you called them, Amanda would deny everything and it’d affect her worse than it already did.
You sent Amanda to run some tests and left her room after throwing away your gloves and washing your hands. Your mind was only focused on her as you filled out her medical records so much you didn't even hear Will come closer to you until he put his hand around her waist to great you, leaving a kiss on you temple.
“Baby you okay? How is the wife?” He asked as he picked up her bastard husband's newly created medical record.
“She was in critical condition but I believe she’ll make full recovery. The husband?”.
“He was luckier, he only suffered a few bruises and small fractures. The guy must be madly in love with his wife, all he did was ask about her and say he wanted to see her.”
“I think Amanda is a victim of domestic violence, your guy isn't in love at all,” you voiced your concerns before placing your pen on the papers and looking at Will.
“You sure?”.
“She has bruises all over her body clearly from days ago and her X-Rays show old healed fractures. Not mentioning how she’s terrified of him.”
“Wow…” Will breathed out, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “There must be an explanation…”
“Babe did you hear a word I just said? We have to help that woman. He’ll kill sooner or later.”
“Don't you think you're a little bit exaggerating a little love?” Will put his hands on your shoulders “If she doesn't tell you anything there's nothing we can do…”
“Will, he beats the shit out of her and God knows what else does to her!” You whispered/shouted with frustration. “She doesn't say anything so we let that bastard beat her?”.
“I didn’t mean that! What I was trying to say is just… Don't jump to conclusions, there must be other reasons why she must’ve gotten those bruises…”
“Oh yeah of course. She must hit herself on the side so hard she left a shoe imprint on her skin for fun. This really makes sense.” You snapped the folder close and walked away, ignoring Will who tried to call you out.
You were pissed off.
It was always the same exact story, over and over again.
How the fuck were women supposed to trust the system and report abuses when those who were part of this system didn't even believe them?
You talked to Amanda, stood by her side during her MRI and the other tests, keeping her away from her husband as much as possible.
You didn't force her to say anything, you didn't insist to let her talk about what was happening in her household. It wouldn't do her any good, you wanted her to know she had a choice, you wanted to give her as much time as possible to think about what to do.
“Whatever happened I believe you Amanda, okay? You don't have to be afraid and I'll be here to help you if you want.”
That was all you said to her about the topic and she nodded slightly before bursting into a liberating and heartbreaking cry. You stayed with her the whole time, hugging her and reassuring her that everything would be okay, that she wasn’t alone.
Yet she said nothing to you, nothing about her husband, deeply terrified of the consequences there might be.
She eventually fell asleep and you let her rest, telling the nurses to always keep an eye on her and to let you know immediately if anything happened.
“Dr. Y/Ln, Mr. Connell's X-Rays just arrived, Dr. Halstead left for another patient.” A nurse had told you as soon as you passed by their station. Your heart skipped a beat, realizing you didn’t meet Amanda’s husband yet.
You wanted so much to let him rot in hell but you couldn't, you had duties to fulfill as a doctor even if he was the most disgusting piece of shit on earth.
You took the envelope with the X-Rays and thanked the nurse before she went back helping other patients. You went to the bastard's room, taking a deep breath before entering.
You tried to hide your indignation as soon as you saw him lying on the bed, maintaining a professional and impassive expression.
“Who are you? Where is Dr. Halstead?” He asked as soon as you entered his room.
“I'm Dr. Y/Ln, he's busy at the moment.”
“My wife… Do you know where she is? How is she?”. If you hadn't seen the condition of Amanda's body you would’ve even thought he was really worried.
Son of a bitch.
You swallowed the anger that threatened to release words you’d regret and that you knew Amanda would pay the price for. “She's fine. She’s doing some tests,” you deadpanned before taking the X-Ray out of the folder. “There are no serious fractures, just a small one here on the collarbone…”
“I want to know where my wife is. Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?” He blurted out, not even letting you finish your sentence.
“Sir, as I said, she’s doing some tests. She was in quite critical condition and we’re doing our best to treat her,” you replied in a flat tone although your heart was pounding. The way he was looking at you made your skin crawl and your heart ached for Amanda and the fact she had to live with this piece of shit every single day.
“What tests is she doing?”.
“I’m sorry but I cannot discuss clinical details of other patients with other people.”
He looked at you angrily. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m her husband! I have the right to know how my wife is doing!”.
“Mr Connell I’m just trying to do my job. I just came here to show you your X-Rays, like…” You continued talking, holding up them again to show them to him but cut yourself off when he pulled the covers away from his body and stood up abruptly, making you take a step back in fear.
“What’s going on doctor? Why don't you want to update me on my wife's health status?” He stated through gritted teeth, taking steps towards you and looking at you menacingly. You slowly took as many steps back, your breathing quickening as fear took over you.
“Mr Connell, just go back to bed…”
“What did that filthy whore say to you?” He spat and you were about to rush to the door and run away when he violently pushed you against it, making you fall to the ground.
“What. Did. She. Say.” He grabbed your hair in a fist and pulling you back to your feet.
You squirmed to try to escape his grasp, digging your nails into his skin. “She didn't tell me anything… I don't know what you're talking about…”
He punched you in the face in response, causing you to let out a loud cry of pain as you fell to the ground again.
“Fuck,” you muttered, holding a hand to your nose and realizing you were bleeding.
In that moment you had a glimpses of what Amanda had to go through every single day of her life and you could really understand why she was so terrified of that man.
“Oh you know exactly what I'm talking about you bitch.”
You tried to get up but he grabbed your hair in a fist again and pushed you with force towards the emergency cart in the room, so violently some objects fell from it and some drawers opened.
“You piece of shit…” you spat as you tried to get up but he walked over to you and kicked you back to the ground.
It all happened quickly.
So quickly that between his attacks you didn't even have time to process what was happening. He was overpowering you and every time you tried to hit him so you could escape, he hit you back.
He pushed you on the floor, picked you up and tossed you around the room as if you were a garbage bag.
You were lying on the ground, curled up in a fetal position as you held your stomach after a painful kick to the stomach.
Your mind went to Will, wanting nothing more than your husband in that moment.
Baby please help me.
You lay down on your back in an attempt to catch some breath but a scream echoed through the room.
Your whole body froze and in an instant everything around you stopped.
What happened?
Was that scream yours?
A searing pain went through your abdomen and a warm sensation enveloped your body.
You lifted your head slightly only to realize in horror you had a pair of scissors impaled in your abdomen.
He fucking stabbed me.
You had treated hundreds of thousands of patients with stab wounds, you had always tried to reassure them, telling them you knew it hurt but everything would be fine.
But the truth was that you had no idea what your patients were feeling, the paralyzing fear, the excruciating pain, the terror of not surviving.
You don't fully know things until you go through them and in that moment, as the blood poured out of your stomach and smeared your red uniform, making it two shades darker, your body paralyzed by shock, you really understood how it felt.
Your chest rose and fell quickly as you struggled to breathe properly. Tears began to fell from your eyes when you saw the man bending over you and at that precise moment you feared your time had come.
You feared you’d never see Will again, that he wouldn’t find out until you were dead.
You needed him, you wanted your husband.
Please Will I need you.
The man pulled the scissors out of your wound which started to bleed a lot more, staining the floor red.
He looked into your eyes and the coldness he showed almost shocked you. They were glassy, empty, devoid of emotions and any trace of remorse.
“When you see my beloved wife, tell her to start planning her funeral.”
Without looking back, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving you dying and immersed in a pool of your own blood.
The wound burned stingingly as you brought your trembling hands to it to try to make pressure, but in vain.
How could so much blood come out of a not so big wound?
Sounds of throbbing pain continued to escape your lips, your breathing heavy, your heart beating wildly.
You tried to move and lift yourself up but every time you ended up lying back on the ground.
You were too weak.
What you managed to do was crawl on your elbows, leaving a trail of blood on the floor with every step you made.
You raised an arm to try to open the door. Your trembling fingers even managed to wrap around the handle but the blood on them made you slip and fall to the floor again.
Your breathing was starting to slow down, as was your heartbeat. That feeling of heat that invaded your body turned into cold, forming goosebumps all over your skin.
You were tired. So incredibly tired.
You just wanted to get some sleep and rest a bit.
So you closed your eyes, not knowing if you’d open them again.
Will looked everywhere for you but couldn't find you. He even looked for you in Amanda's room who, however, had told him she hadn't seen you for some time. He thought you were avoiding him but he couldn't think you had abandoned your patients just to avoid talking to him.
“Have you seen Y/n?” He had asked Maggie as soon as he saw her walk by.
“No, but I’ll tell her to look for you as soon as I see her.”
It felt like you had disappeared off the face of the earth, he knew you’d never have left without warning unless it was an emergency.
He tried to page you so many times, to call you on your cell phone but nothing, he received no answer. His mind tried not to immediately think something bad had happened, he couldn't even imagine it, but it was all he could think about at that moment since no one seemed to have seen you for a while.
He thought you might’ve gone to talk to Amanda's husband, knowing you would’ve tried to confront him. So he went towards Jack’s room but he stopped in his tracks before opening the door when his feet stepped on something wet.
He lowered his gaze and looking down he soon realized with horror it was blood.
He tried to open the door carefully, his heart beating wildly as he imagined all sorts of scenarios in front of him.
The door didn't open completely, as if there was some sort of resistance on the other side, so Will tried to squeeze through the small space.
But nothing could’ve prepared him for what his eyes saw, for what he never wanted to see.
His heart stopped beating for a few seconds when his eyes fell on the unconscious figure lying on the floor and immersed in a pool of her own blood. That figure he’d never, ever wanted to see in that condition, not even in his worst nightmares. YOU.
“Oh my god Y/n!” He loudly exclaimed, immediately kneeling next to you and pressing his hands on your wound from which blood was still flowing. You didn't react, your eyes were closed, your heartbeat slow.
“Baby, wake up… Please, please, please, open your eyes.”
How long were you there? Why hadn't anyone notice this?
“Somebody help me! Hurry up!”.
“Oh shit!” The nurse who rushed there screamed, putting her hands over her mouth as soon as she saw Will kneeling down, covered in your own blood.
“Where the fuck were you?!” Will exclaimed angrily, his mind completely clouded from the anger, the confusion, from the fear of coming too late.
“Oh God… I… I gave her the patient's X-Rays… There was an emergency and… And… I-I had to leave…” she stammered, shocked.
Will gave her a murderous look that would’ve killed her on the spot if he could. He knew it wasn't her fault, just the bastard who did this to you, but he couldn't help but blame someone in that moment.
He brought his eyes back to you, only then noticing the scratches and bruises that surrounded your face.
Oh baby what did they do to you?
“I'm here love, I'm here… It's okay. You’ll be fine. Just hang on for a bit.”
One of his hands let go of your wound to check your pulse, realizing it was barely noticeable. His heart tightened in a vice as he caressed her face, staining it with your own blood.
“Please wake up, please… Don't do this to me baby, you can't… You can't… I need you…” He kept repeating, his eyes starting to glaze over with tears after yelling for help again. Dr. Crockett, who was passing by at the time, intervened immediately as soon as he realized what was happening.
“What the hell happened?!” He asked urgently as he watched the horrific scene that seemed to come out from a horror movie. “We need to take her to the OR immediately, prepare four bags of 0 neg, she's lost too much blood!”
But Will didn't let you go, he continued to stay there putting pressure on your wound and keeping his gaze fixed on you.
“Will…” Crockett murmured placing a hand on his shoulder “She'll be make it okay? She’s in good hands but you have to let me do my job, you can’t be here.”
“Will!”.
Only then he seemed to realize Crockett was actually talking to him. He slightly nodded, reluctantly letting you go and watching as they carried you away.
He was in shock, struggling to believe what was happening was reality and not just a fucking nightmare.
He raised his now red and trembling hands and his eyes looked at them for a few moments, analyzing and carefully observing the blood he hardly struggled to believe was yours.
What the hell happened?
There was no doubt it was that bastard Jack Connell who did this to you and an anger he had never felt before ran through him.
He was furious.
Furious because he had allowed someone to hurt you, because he had failed to protect you, furious with himself because he didn’t believed you when you expressed your concern.
He was devastated.
Desperate.
It was all his fault.
He stayed there for he didn't know how long, looking at those hands that until recently were pressing on your wound, the same hands that until a few hours before were holding you and hugging you.
When he finally looked up around the room, he noticed what a dire, chaotic mess there was and it was clear there had been a fight before.
Only then he realized there was no trace of that bastard, that he had probably already escaped from the hospital and with the tumultuous coming and going of patients, nurses and doctors no one had even noticed him.
He took his cell phone out of his pocket, not caring he was getting blood on it, and with trembling fingers dialed Jay's number.
Jay almost had a heart attack when he heard about what happened and seeing his brother covered in blood was awful even if he knew it wasn't his. He was worried for you while trying to calm Will down. But he was still in a catalytic state so Jay stayed with him, helping him clean himself up.
Will explained to his brother it was probably Jack Connell who did it, he told him your concerns about him mentally and physically abusing his wife but that he didn't believe you.
“It's not your fault okay? I want you to understand this. It was his fault, it’s him who did this to her and I promise we’ll get him and make him pay for what he did to her, he’ll rot in prison. An attack on Y/n is an attack on all of us.” He tried to reassure Will. “She'll make it, she’s strong but she needs you now, she needs you to be by her side, I know you're scared now but you have to be strong for her, brother.”
Will was completely losing his mind while waiting for your surgery to be over, not sitting for even a minute as he paced back and forth in the waiting room, waiting at the same time some news from Jay.
When Crockett finally came out of the OR and announced the surgery had gone well and that he had managed to sew up the wound, Will couldn't help but hug him in the throes of joy and happiness.
As he walked to the ICU, he felt a weight pressing down on his shoulders, anxiety gnawing at his stomach to the point it made him feel nauseous.
His legs trembled as he approached your bed, his palms sweated, his eyes watered as he looked at you lying on that bed, unconscious.
He sat down on a chair next to you, taking one of your hands as his thumb caressed your skin. He pressed his lips on your knuckles, leaving a chaste and small kiss so light as if he was afraid of hurting you.
He sniffed when he realized a few tears had escaped his eyes, quickly wiping them away with his fingers. “I'm so sorry baby, this wasn't supposed to happen to you,” He whispered, looking at you while struggling to keep his emotions inside.
He felt terribly guilty.
It was his fault you were on that bed.
It was his fault you had to suffer.
His heart tightened as he thought about what you had to go through and he hated himself for not being able to prevent it, for not believing you.
He didn't want to think about how scared you had been, how terrified you were of dying, how many you had called for him but he didn’t come.
“I'm so sorry I didn't believe you, I'll never forgive myself,” he kept talking to you. “How can you be so beautiful even on a hospital bed? I really am a lucky bastard.”
He smiled faintly as he looked at you. “Please wake up baby, show me those beautiful eyes I fell so madly in love with… I’m begging you…”
He stood up and left a kiss on your forehead while stroking your hair at the same time before sitting back on the chair.
“I already miss you so much you know that? I'm sorry I don't tell you often how much I love you, I'm sorry I only realized now that I risked losing you how much you mean to me. Don't get me wrong I already know this, you’re one of the most important person in my life, God only knows I can't live without you... But I didn't realize how intensely and deeply you affect my life Y/n. You… Damn it…” He finished the sentence with a sigh as he tried to find the right words.
“I can't exist without you, I can't think properly, I can’t breathe, I... I’m nothing. You completed me, you always managed to fill the void I’ve always felt inside, you’ve always been that fundamental piece to complete the puzzle. Just… Please… Please don't leave me.”
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the beeps of the monitor connected to your heart. He left another kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes never leaving your sleeping face.
“I love you so much Y/n Halstead, you have no idea how much. I stop to think about our wedding day every now and then and you don't know how much money I’d pay to go back to that day and see you again in that beautiful white dress... God I would say yes to you a million more times and if we lived other lives I would say yes to you in those too because meeting you and marrying you was the best thing I've ever done in my entire life.”
“I'm so sorry…” He whispered, the words dying in his throat before he let out a silent cry, his forehead resting on the bed as he continued to silently pray.
“I heard you the first thousand times Dr Halstead…”
Will snapped his head to you, his eyes widening and almost having a heart attack when he saw you were finally awake and looking at him.
You had a small smile on your lips, trying not to chuckle as you looked at the shocked look on his face.
“Baby oh my fucking god!” He almost screamed before leaning over you and hugging you in the rush of joy and happiness. He held you tightly for an indefinite time, fearing for a moment it was a hallucination.
He let you go though when you let out a painful sigh. “Shit I'm sorry love.” He sat down again. “How are you? How are you feeling? You need something? Are you hurting? God I missed you so much.”
“The wound hurts a little but overall I'm fine...” You replied, your voice thick and hoarse. “What happened? Where is that son of a bitch? Is Amanda okay?”.
“He ran away after what… What he did to you and I called Jay, they'll catch him I promise. Amanda is okay, Jay questioned her and she told him everything, you were right about the abuse… I’m so sorry for not believing you.”
You nodded feebly, momentarily looking away from Will who kept his eyes on you with a broken look on his face, and you took a deep breath, more painful than you would’ve ever imagined.
Image after image of the attack replayed in your mind.
Of the screams no one seemed to hear.
Of the prayers to let you go.
Of his hands punching you and throwing you against the walls and objects in the room as if you were garbage.
Of his feet kicking you.
Of those scissors that had torn your skin and stabbed you.
“Oh baby.” You felt Will's thumb wipe away a tear that had slipped down your temple without you even realizing it. “C’mere.”He stood up and hugged you as best he could again, being careful this time not to hurt you. “It's okay, you're here with me now and you're safe. That piece of shit won't hurt you again I promise.”
It was as if that hug had triggered something inside you and you burst into tears, lifting your arms and encircling his chest while venting all the suppressed emotions.
“I was… I was so scared Will… T-that I wouldn't see you again…”
Will pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a sweet and long kiss as he savored and thanked the angels for still giving the opportunity to do it.
“I know darling, I know, I can't even imagine what you went through…”
He stroked your hair, your skin marred by scratches and bruises. “It shouldn't have happened to you, I'm so sorry my love. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you...” he kissed you again. “But you're safe now okay? Now you're here with me, you're safe, and unless I’ll die I'll never let you out of my sight again.”
You giggled through your tears, hugging again the man you loved more than anything else.
“I love you so much more Will Halstead, it's not your fault okay? Please always remember that, it wasn't you who did it but that son of a bitch.”
He didn't answer but held you tighter, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while your fingers ran through his fluffy hair. Your heart broke when you realized he was crying.
“Hey, hey, it's okay. You really think I would leave you? Who would’ve made your life a living hell if I died?” You tried to ease the tension. “Oh baby I love you so much.”
“I thought I lost you… When I found you there…” His words came muffled but he stopped, not even being able to finish the sentence. He didn't want to think about those horrible moments anymore, about the fear he felt, even though he knew those images would never leave his mind.
A feeling of anguish took hold of you after hearing he was the one who found you. You couldn't imagine how horrible it was to find your wife, your partner, the person you care about most, almost dying.
“Shh it’s okay,” you whispered “Look at me.”
He slightly lifted his head and if your heart wasn't broken enough already, it was in that moment. You cupped your hands over his face, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. He leaned into your touch, looking at you as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world.
“I'm here, I'll get better. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. If anything you saved me baby, if you hadn't found me I would’ve probably bled to death so stop blaming yourself okay? Do it for me.“
He nodded and you smiled before pressing your lips to his in a sweet, gentle kiss.
“I’m so sorry love I don’t want to make this about me,” he said wiping again his tears and you both chuckled.
“Yeah yeah, sure, you egocentric bastard.” You rolled your eyes and burst out laughing at the same time even if you stopped immediately after, holding your stomach. “Fuck it hurts.”
“I know you’re so funny baby but take it easy.”
Despite everything, despite the pain, the anxiety and the terror of dying, the fear of never seeing that red hair again, of never hugging him, you were so grateful for still being there. You were grateful to life for giving you another opportunity, for allowing to live, to cry again, to love.
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wing-ed-thing · 4 months
Text
Smoker Relationship Headcanons
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Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns
𓆃 For how tight-laced and no nonsense he can be, Smoker isn't a terrible partner in the slightest. While he brings some of his stern nature into a relationship, you'll find that he's extremely loyal and surprisingly soft and attentive.
𓆃 Putting it plainly, when it comes to relationships, Smoker has been there and done that. He knows the role he's meant to play in your chosen dynamic. And that being said, he knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waste any time playing games.
𓆃 While early inklings of catching feelings might throw him off a bit (especially if you've been close friends or colleagues), there's little else that keeps him from being direct and politely asking you out forthright.
𓆃 Smoker is rather untraditionally orthodox in the sense that he prefers the traditional song and dance of taking you to dinner, but bringing flowers didn't even cross his mind. He'll hold the door, but couldn't give a damn about which side of the road you walk on. And if you ask if he intends to split your bill he'll look at you like you're crazy.
𓆃 And there's almost no way to predict Smoker's picking and choosing in terms of his relationship expectations, which mostly comes from him thinking things and then not telling you because he thought them so you must automatically know.
𓆃 You'll find that you often have to roll with random things popping up in your mutual schedule at the last minute because how could Smoker not tell you he's been dispatched for the next two weeks?
𓆃 And his reaction is always the same. He'll crinkle his forehead and squint his eyes while the words "I thought I told you 'bout that" pass around his cigar.
𓆃 Smoker often sails for a period of time and then comes back home to where he's stationed. You can almost always count of this revolving schedule, although if yours is remotely similar, it's rare that your schedules line up.
𓆃 Whenever he travels, Smoker always brings back a little gift from whatever island he's just been to, and you've even found that you can request just about whatever your heart desires and Smoker will find a way to get it.
𓆃 Although, he doesn't understand a thing about trends, so requesting a popular item will be met with a grumpy, begrudging attitude.
𓆃 "Why do you want a stupid little trinket? You're not gonna ask for, ah, I dunno jewelry or somethin'?" "I'm not buyin' you a Soul King vinyl. You know that guy's a wanted criminal right?"
𓆃 For all his complaining, Smoker will come home with a necklace and the vinyl (he sent one of his men to buy one incognito).
𓆃 And he complains a lot and you'll find that he can have quite the attitude. After the third time you've mentioned how much you want take-away Smoker is going to put his jacket on and get it, but he's going to be mumbling and grumbling the whole time.
𓆃 That goes for just about anything you want on a whim. Whether you want something sweet in the middle of the night or you walked past something really nice at the market and now you're lamenting over whether you should have bought it.
𓆃 And every time Smoker is getting out of bed to get you ice cream or turning you both around so you— or more likely he— can buy you that item you were so infatuated with.
𓆃 But for every ounce of attitude he gives, it's within reason and expectation that you give it right back to him. Smoker will never say he likes when you're a bit sassy, but he's very clearly amused by banter.
𓆃 Landing a clever clap-back on him simply makes him smile. The smile is usually accompanied by an eyeroll and the shake of his head, but you can tell he loves when you get a little feisty.
𓆃 In the same vein, Smoker easily gets suckered by a bit of pouting here and there because for being rigid and grumpy, he would do anything short of breaking the law for you.
𓆃 If you're someone looking for something serious and long-term, look no further because Smoker is on board with settling down. Once you're in a relationship, there's very little that would keep him from being anything but dedicated to you.
𓆃 Oh, except piracy.
𓆃 Yeah, piracy would likely get in the way of that.
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cyberpunkgyu · 6 months
Text
Devotion — L. Heeseung
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↬ pairing: knight heeseung x princess reader
↬ summary: no matter how many gentlemen are out there, wanting to marry you, you only have an eye on one.
↬ genre: romance, mutual feelings, fluff, short one shot!
↬ warnings: (ending kinda rushed bc i didn’t know how to end it ;_; but hope you enjoy!) not proofread
inspired by sooha x heli
☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆
the amount of men that surrounds you made your head spin, not liking the attention that you are receiving. it’s funny, really. this is your life, a normal process for a princess to go through, though you hate it.
marrying someone you don’t love? that sounds like a nightmare to you. you would rather stab a fork through your eyes.
as if he could hear your mind, a familiar voice halted one of the gentlemen that was talking to you, or trying to as your mind was somewhere else.
“princess yn, your mother is looking for you.”
turning around, a smile immediately was painted on your lips as the only person you’ve been thinking about is now in front of you.
lee heeseung. the man of your dreams.
“i see, thank you for informing me. if you all excuse us.” your hand took his, something you don’t really think about as if felt too natural for you to do, leaving the loud chaos behind.
he guided you out of the ballroom and into the empty hallway, though he stopped there all the sudden, just like deja vu. looking up at him with your doe eyes, you couldn’t help but blush at how he was still holding onto your hand. just like a puzzle piece.
your heart beats rapidly as it was now just the two of you. the hallway wasn’t very well lit as the lights on the printed walls were dimmed. though you could still see how beautiful the man’s face is. bambi eyes staring back at you, your lips parting as he leaned down closer to you before feeling his index finger touch the tip of your nose.
a giggle left your lips, shaking your head at him. “you know, you need to make a different excuse. they might catch on.”
heeseung just smiled, his white pearls on display. that damn smile that made you fall for him in the first place.
“hey, it works every time. besides, there were times it was true.” he shrugged, a smile remained on his face. rolling your eyes playfully, you shook your head a bit. though it was a bit dark, you still shined bright through heeseung’s eyes. you looked like a goddess to him, an angel that has fallen from the sky.
god he felt like he was falling deeper and deeper the longer he stares through your eyes.
he cleared his throat. “so, any gentleman that caught your eye? or interest you even a little bit?”
sighing, he felt you slip your hand off him, trying to ignore the slight ache in his heart. you shook your head, something he already predicted as every time he ask that question you would always say no. he knew how much you dislike these gatherings. everyone was the same. they would always talk about their assets and land, which is the least of your concerns.
okay. but, only you know the real reason you’re not interested in anyone. it’s because of the man in front of you. the man that makes your heart flutter whenever he is near you. thinking about him makes your heart melt already. he got you wrapped around his finger.
“pft. they all talk about the same things. it is making my head hurt.” you whine, crossing your arms before you began to walk further away from the entrance of the ballroom, heeseung following you.
“what is it that you are looking for in a man?”
“i want someone that thinks about me. someone who will actually love me, instead of marrying someone just because. i want someone who will be there for me, the same way that i will be there for them. i want someone that can protect me. someone that makes me feel butterflies in my stomach whenever i see them.”
i want to marry you, you wanted to say.
heeseung watched you stop on your tracks, turning around with your heels to face him. “i want to marry for love, bambi.” the nickname caused his heart to skip a beat, feeling himself gulp harshly.
he took a step forward, now closer to you. looking up at him with your doe eyes, as the height difference between the two of you was significant, you couldn’t help but take his hand in yours. skinship wasn’t something new between the two of you, though every time you feel his skin touch yours, your stomach starts to flip.
“and you will find that, bunny. i will make sure of that. your happiness is my priority.” his voice sounded so heavenly in your ears. his hand squeezed yours softly, a soft smile appearing on his lips. the room started to feel a bit too warm for you. you were sure it was because of how close he was to you. the tip of your ears red as fire, and you were thankful the lights were dimmed in the hallway.
your lips parted as you stared up at the man in front of you, feeling as if he was putting a spell on you. he looks so surreal. a beautiful man with a kind personality, where else can you find that? he is a rare gem indeed.
"what if i'm interested in someone that might not feel the same?" the phrase blurted out of your mouth before you could even comprehend. you looked down for a moment, suddenly feeling intimidated by his gaze, not knowing where to look at. "will you do something about it?"
he looks down at you so softly, as if you’re a porcelain glass that he doesn’t want to break. all with care and love.
"i am sure i don't have to. loving you isn't hard, yn. any men can easily fall in love with you."
your eyes finally looked up to find his. you let out a soft giggle, tilting your head. “and how’d you know that? are you in love with me?” you jest, though your heart quickly palpitated.
it was silent for a bit, just hearing the chaos of the ballroom in the background. you could hear the musical instruments along with people’s laughter.
heeseung’s eyes shifted down to your lips, his hand gripping yours more securely, not wanting to let you go. that caused your breathing to become shallow, watching the man in front of you.
“i am.”
your eyes widened, blinking slowly. “huh?” your voice was quiet, feeling as if all oxygen started to disappear. your chest rises up much higher than before, your corset feeling tight as ever. gosh, you feel like you were about to faint.
you’ve known heeseung for the longest time. you two basically grew up together, and he would always tell you, ‘i exist to protect you.’ a phrase that never fails to make your heart flutter.
you don’t even remember the time that you started to develop feelings. perhaps you’ve liked him ever since you two met. a childhood crush that grew into something much more special.
you’ve never thought that he will be confessing to you. so now that he did, you didn’t know what to say. it felt like a dream.
heeseung’s eyes changed, now showing concern and worry. he could see the change in your state. “yn? you’re pale. are you okay?”
you couldn’t even say anything, your throat dry. what is wrong with you? the man in front of you just confessed and now you’re frozen?
suddenly you felt yourself being lifted, a soft noise coming out of your mouth. heeseung has lifted you up off your feet, walking out of the building and out towards the garden. you clung onto his neck, just staring at man. he gently sat you down the bench, looking at you so worriedly.
“do you need to be alone? some water? tell me how i can help.” he rambles, kneeling down on his knee so his eyes are the same level as yours.
“just hold me.”
you spoke before you could even think.
heeseung blinked, his thoughts all over his head at the moment. all he wanted to do was to make you feel better as he hates seeing you feel uncomfortable. all his years with you he has never seen you like this around his presence. so when you told him to hold you, he just did it.
he immediately wrapped his strong arms around your frame. he didn’t hesitate. that warmed your heart, and it immediately started to make you feel better. the way he held you so gently but firmly. you buried your face on his face, his scent filling your nose.
you felt his hand holding your head, caressing your hair softly. you could literally melt in his arms.
"i apologize." you mumbled, your voice vibrating against his silky tan skin, your lips basically on his neck. god, he wonders if you could hear how fast his heart was beating, as he could hear it from his own ears. his ears are much redder than the cherries he ate earlier with you.
"why are you apologizing? shouldn't i be the one apologizing? you must be feeling uncomfortable after my sudden confession." he whispered lowly, closing his eyes for a moment as he inhaled.
shaking your head, you softly pulled away from the hug, though your hands found his as soon as they dropped down. his face centimeters away from you, now staring back at him. a small smile appears on your lips as you admire his face.
"i'm not uncomfortable. you just made my heart flutter too much."
his brows raised, the corner of his lips lifting. "i did?" he sounded so innocent, his lips slightly pursed.
you giggled quietly, taking off one of your hands from one of his, your other remained on his other hand. your free hand touched his cheek, and gosh he felt like his heart was about to combust his chest. he couldn't help but lean into your touch.
"i mean, you always make my heart race faster than normal, but i guess your confession tripled that.”
he chuckled airily and placed his hand on top of yours that was on his cheek, pressing your skin closer to his. it’s like he couldn’t get enough of you, wanting you closer than ever.
“god. seeing the colors drain from your face frightened me. i thought you were going to faint.”
your heart melted. the fact that he always think about you before himself made you feel so loved and cared for. you are his world. his everything.
and it is true. heeseung would do anything for you. if he had to swim across the sea with millions of sharks swimming around or walk through a hot fire, he would do it, just for you. your happiness is his happiness.
you remember the first time heeseung got angry. it wasn’t towards you, but to a not-so-gentleman who disrespected you. his face was fuming with anger, and you never thought you’d see him like that. his voice would get deeper, though he remained calm, not wanting to make a scene. not in front of you at least. he didn’t like getting angry as he didn’t want to scare you off, but when the man kept pushing your buttons, he lost it.
that’s the first and last time you saw him like that. you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you blush. even when he’s angry, he looks very attractive. and he always does.
“what are you thinking about?” he snapped you out of your thoughts, finally getting up as his legs were starting to fall asleep from kneeling down in front of you. he sat beside you before taking your hands in his once again, warming them up.
you shook your head and let out a content sigh, looking at his eyes with a smile on your face.
he smiled back, tilting his head as a thought popped in his head. heeseung then chuckled to himself causing your brows to raise.
“what?”
you giggled and looked at him amusingly, giving both his hands a squeeze.
“it’s just, what if… what if i kiss you? would you be able to handle that?”
god. your cheeks have already been the warmest it could possibly be, but now it felt like it was on fire. your eyes widened, blinking slowly at the man who is admiring you so lovingly.
“you- you want to kiss… me?”
you couldn’t believe this is actually happening. it felt like a dream. a dream you wish you would never wake up from. you must have done something righteous in your past life that you are now getting blessed as a reward.
learning his face forward even closer to you, feeling yourself dazed, your lips parting at the small action. his eyes kept shifting between your lips and eyes, not being able to look away. he felt like he was under your spell, a good one that is, and he loved every second of it.
“only if you would allow me, my princess.”
you took a very deep breath before gulping through your dry throat. you licked your lips for a second unknowingly, though that caused heeseung’s heart to drop down the pit of his stomach.
there was a moment of silence.
the two of you kept staring at one another, giving each other a look of adoration. both eyes speaking volumes. heeseung is your world, and you are heeseung’s. if reincarnation was indeed a real thing as many believed, he hope that he will be able to find you his next lifetime, so he can keep loving you. he belongs to you, and only you.
you slowly nod, your thumbs stroking the back of his hands.
“you may.”
your voice small and breathy. his hands let go of yours before they find their way to your cheeks, caressing it softly. his forehead pressed against yours, making your eyes flutter. his breath fan on your lips. soon enough, his lips pressed against yours.
this is your first kiss.
you felt yourself froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. heeseung can sense that, so he slowly pulled back, looking at you gently.
“just relax. let me guide you.” he whispered and stroked your cheek, patient and understanding. how could you not fall in love with him?
nodding shyly, you are now the one leaning forward first, making him smile softly. you pressed your lips back on his, kissing him slowly. his other hand went down to your waist while the other remained on your cheek.
his lips felt so soft and warm against yours. a secret you kept to yourself is how you always stare at his lips whenever he wasn’t looking at you, and now that his lips were on yours, it felt so surreal.
you pulled away slowly as you started to get out of breath, but your forehead remained rested on his, your eyes still closed.
“i’ve been dreaming about this you know, kissing you. i never would’ve thought it would happen so soon.”
a smile never left your lips, leaning back to look at him. his eyes looked down at your lips, which was now swollen and red, his thumb running over it.
“me neither.” you mumbled softly, feeling as if you were drunk. the presence of his lips still lingering, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.
you leaned once again and gave his lips a soft peck, keeping your lips on his for a bit longer, and as you were about to pulled back, heeseung’s hand held the back of your head, pulling you back to the kiss.
this time, the kiss felt more passionate, your hands clenching on the cloth of his coat while his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as possible to him.
“let’s get married.” heeseung mumbled against your lips all the sudden, making you gasp. slowly pulling away from the kiss, his hands took yours, his eyes on you.
“i know this must me sudden, but all i want is to be with you, for the rest of my life. i want to take care of you, to protect you. i want to be there next to you when you wake up in the morning, as well as at night to hold you in your sleep. i want to be the one to comfort you when you feel down, i want to be the one to make you smile. i want to keep loving you, forever.”
your heart felt so full as you listened, your eyes full of warmth and love.
you smiled widely, stealing a kiss from him, startling him a bit. “i would love that.”
he grinned, his nose crunching a bit.
“you want to be with me forever?”
you giggled softly and nodded, pecking his nose.
“forever.”
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a-spes · 1 month
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I litteraly can't stop thinking about this post from @whumped-by-glitter ~ Like, can we (please) take a minute to think about how perfect it's for Wandanat or BlackHill x young!R where they take her out of the Red Room?? | Warnings & Tags : messy blurb? (imagine? idk, just wanting to share my thoughts, and couldn't stop writing), mainly BlackHill, mentions of the Red Room/past abuses, no idea if that makes sense. Imagine, teen or young adult R that fails a mission, and is captured by SHIELD/The Avengers. R isn't really cooperative, even if she is not under mind control anymore, she firmly believes that. However, Nat just can't accept the idea of leaving her rotting in a cell for the rest of her life for something that isn't really her fault. Despite what R can say, Natasha wants to believe that it's not true, and that she will be able to show her that life is way more than the Red Room.
But it's not that easy. Nat more than anyone else knows that you don't come back from the Red Room that easily, and she can only assumes that it would be worst for someone that went under mind control. And she was right. At first, she tried to introduce you to how life outside is, how sweet it could be, but she quickly noticed that it didn't work. Whenever she asks you a question about what you would like, she gets no answer. If she doesn't tell you to eat or to go somewhere, you don't do it. The amount of time you didn't followed her or talked because she didn't especially told you to do so is insane, especially in the beginning. So she decides to do what she thinks it's best, even if she hates it: giving you order, being stern with you, offering you a place you know, where you feel safe (no matter how sick it's) because you can predict it, a space where you'll be fine as long as you do as your ask. The world is a big and scary place in which to evolve in, especially when you don't have the keys to understand it - what you do something you're not supposed to, and you're punished for that? R will eventually come here, but it'll definitely takes a lot of time.
But obvsiouly Nat' is hating herself for that. She knows she has to do it, for you, but it doesn't make it easier. She does it because she believes it will help you to feel better, and because if you're under her orders, they have less reasons to be worried that you would attend something under Dreykov's name (or try to go back to him). She feels guilty, and old thoughts about her not being better than the man that made them are coming back. But Maria/Wands are here to help their wife <3
AND SO, here is how I see things if it's WandaNat we're talking about - I picture Wands as the soft mom she is shown as in Wandavision, and she would definitely not appreciate Nat's methods. She trusts her wife, she knows that she has her reasons, and it must be the best way to help you, but she still doesn't like it. She hates the way you always look down, the way you would do everything her wife is asking without thinking twice about it, and most of it, she hates when you're calling Nat' "ma'am" or something else of that kind. She hates even more than her wife isn't saying anything. She didn't know you for long, but she already loves you as her own, and it pains her when you reject her. Sometimes, she and Nat would argue about the whole situation (and those arguments would definitely go too far).
BUT imagine if it's BlackHill?? Even better in my opinion, and definitely can't stop thinking about it ~ Because, unlike Wanda, Maria is directly concerned. She read your file, she saw footages of you killing dozens of people, she tracked you, lost men in the process, and she saw how you didn't seem to regret anything when she questioned you. So Maria has every reasons to be worried, especially for her wife's security (physically and mentally). What if it's just a part of a biggest plan to attempt to kill the redhead? Or worst, to take her back there? I can easily Maria being upset, and taking it out on the other recruit she is training (poor them), not daring to do much more than glaring at you, knowing her wife wouldn't appreciate. And even if she doesn't appreciate R, she trusts and love her wife, so she lets her do her thing. But she is always somewhere looking at you with a stern face, waiting for the moment you would make a mistake to step-in. But you never really make a mistake, always following Nat's orders at the perfection, which is kinda frustrating because then she has no reason to get rid of you. Except if one day R's misunderstood one of Nat's orders, which lead to a heavy situation <3 It's honestly the only situation I imagine leading to an argument between Maria & Nat. Like, maybe you hurt someone or stole something or idk, thinking you did good, and they would be proud, but when you come in the room they're just looking at you with that shocked face. But you did what you had to, no? That's exactly what you were asked to do, so why are they angry? AND IMAGINE THE ANGST FROM NOW. R's confusion, Nat' desesperatly trying to find a solution, trying to convince Maria that it was just a mistake (that was her fault because she is the one that wasn't careful with her words) but she doesn't change her mind. Pulling the "what if it happens again?" and "I am your superior, you don't get to discuss my order" cards, knowing that it would pain Nat', but she has to do it in order to keep her safe. Bonus point if Nat turns to Fury, trying to convince him as she knows her wife won't change her mind, but he doesn't say much, just agreeing with her agent, mumbling a simple "sorry" Nat doesn't want to hear. Obviously, it would eventually
AND (because there is more), I also can't stop thinking about that comment from @light-me-on-pyre ;
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Like, I can easily imagine R hating Nat'. It would make so much sense because she grew up in a place where Nat' was pictured as the enemy, the one that betrayed "the ones that gave everything to her". But it wouldn't be the exact reason why R is hating Nat'. I mean, right, she hates her because she left, but mainly because of the consequences it had for the ones that came after - the worsened conditions, the mind control, etc - and how she succeed what's supposed to be impossible: leaving the Red Room. Not only physically, but mentally. Imagine R seeing Nat' on the news when she is on a mission or seeing her interacting with Maria/the Avengers, witnessing Nat' being happy. It's something she was told she doesn't deserve/will never have from a young age, so why would Nat' have the right to be happy when so many didn't? It was so much easier to hate on Nat' than on Dreykov all these years because she wasn't here, and no one would blame her to do so. But now? It's easier to continue hating Nat', for R to convince herself that the redhead is bad despite the appearances because it's easier than admitting that her whole life is a lie (kinda). And the fact that Nat' has to take the "bad guy" role in order to help R only makes things easier because, in the end, she is not different from the others, right? And so, as Nat' can't provide R the comfort she needs, it's all on Maria (at least for the beginning) who doesn't have a choice. But we all know that despite her cold demeanour, she is all soft, she is just scared for the ones she loves <3 Which includes Nat', because she saw how her wife is affected by your arrival. First, she has nightmares again because, with you, inevitably came back old memories and traumas. Then, Maria can see how her wife is so invested in your case that she barely sleep/eat/ (which is one of the reasons why she doesn't really appreciate R ...). But also, what would happen if they can't save you?
Bonus point if things get better but something happen, and everything get worse again, throwing away all these months of progress. But what if they don't have the patience to start all over again?
It's definitely (one of) my favorite trope because the amount of angst/comfort it holds is insane, and I am going crazy about it (you can tell by the lenght of that post that was supposed to be a few lines ...). Do I want to write something like that when I already have too many WIPs? Yes. Will I do it? I don't know, but I'll definitely be thinking about it 24/24 & 7/7.
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amoromniaodium · 17 days
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I hate angst, but Clegan has been making me feel horribly sad. I wanted to see if any of you are interest in an extremely angst fic. I am posting for the first time this is my first full on prompt I hope you guys like it. This is probably horrible but here you go:
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Gale Cleven was born unloved. His father despised him, beat him, and screamed at him. His mother was coldly indifferent to her husband's treatment of their only son. This harsh upbringing forced Gale to adapt to any environment, learning to read people so effectively that he could almost predict their words and reactions. However, sometimes his gift didn't work properly he does not see it coming; his scars and bruises from his father were telltale.
Gale Cleven grew up feeling cold and unloved, so detached that it seemed something within him had broken; he had never felt warmth in his life.
Gale Cleven grew up in profound loneliness, constantly questioning if things would ever improve.
He didn’t have friends because he moved so often. His shyness and disinterest in typical boyhood activities meant that no one approached him.
Gale Cleven was always pretty—not handsome but beautiful—and that beauty frightened him.
That is why, when he entered flying school and met the men who made him feel warmth for the first time, Gale Cleven became Buck Cleven—a person with friends and love.
Buck Cleven was born, but Gale Cleven still lurked in the background, waiting for the warmth to fade and the cold to return.
Gale Cleven loved Bucky Egan deeply and loyally; he was the only one for him. This obsession or loyalty might seem abnormal to the average person, but Gale had grown up cold, alone, and unloved, and when he finally felt warmth, he clung to it.
Bucky Egan was the hottest and brightest being out there, the sun that kept him warm on the coldest days.
However, what Gale felt for Bucky Egan was not reciprocated, and it only took one evening outside the pub for him to realize this.
It was at that moment that Buck Cleven broke in half, and Gale Cleven re-emerged. It was then Buck realized that, like the sun, Bucky had many orbiting him. Gale was just one of many, the farthest from the warmth, not even a planet—a dwarf planet like Pluto, forgotten and cast aside.
When Buck Cleven saw Bucky kiss someone he knew, so deeply and lovingly, he realized he meant nothing.
Isn’t it funny how naive he was to think that someone like Bucky would ever love him or be there for him? Buck had given his whole self, his broken soul, only to be cast aside and destroyed again. Perhaps it was better that it happened now.
Buck Cleven ceased to exist. Why should he be kind and present when he was not valued? He cast aside the name Buck, a name given to him by the man he loved, and decided this was it.
No more touches, no idle chatter, no more loving glances, no more following and waiting to be acknowledged.
He would be Major Gale Cleven, performing his duties well, but he would no longer yearn for John Egan. It was over.
Like his father, John Egan had taken a piece of his soul, destroyed it for laughs, and handed it back.
Gale Cleven realized that there was no such thing as emotion, love, or peace—there was only living.
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deathblacksmoke · 6 months
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two way vision
pairing: noah sebastian x nick ruffilo x fem reader
cw: polyamorous relationship, dom!nick, brief name calling, belt spanking, threesome, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), boyfriends calling each other dude hehe, mid-sex bickering, ABSOLUTELY FILTHY but don’t worry i think it’s still very sweet 🩵
word count: 3.2K
taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @circle-with-me / @darksigns-exe / @xxrainstorm /@agravemisstake / @monotoniscreaming
let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fics!
author’s note: ruffilo wore a belt and i immediately got all twisty about it? and this happened. enjoy 🤍
**************************************************************
You hadn’t meant to misbehave tonight.
You had put on your pretty dress and gotten all done up with the intention of getting comfortably tipsy and remaining on your best behavior, but things don’t always work out as planned.
Apparently it’s a very important night, with very important people. Apparently the future of the band could ride on this very event. This could mean big things for them. Apparently.
While Nick and Noah are schmoozing, paying you no mind whatsoever, the boredom gets to you. You hate this party. You’re the only girlfriend here and the alcohol sucks—no liquor, just champagne. You’ll regret the morning after blinding champagne headache tomorrow.
You were well aware that they wouldn’t be able to pay much attention to you, but you couldn’t have predicted just how bored you’d be and how out of place you’d feel. You love spending time with them, you love supporting them, but you almost wish you’d stayed at home tonight.
You just wish they’d pay attention to you for a moment. You wish you’d stayed by Nick’s side instead of heading for the bar, but shaking hands and smiling politely at men in suits didn’t sound like fun to you. It still doesn’t.
Being next to them, no matter how boring the conversations may be, seems a lot better than this—sitting at the table alone, sipping on shitty champagne and sulking.
You know that Noah would be more receptive to the games you feel like playing. You know you’re not allowed. It was discussed extensively—in public, you’re Nick’s fiancée and Noah’s friend, for now. Playing with Noah would pose a lot of questions that none of you are quite ready to answer.
That doesn’t mean you have to like it, especially tonight when they’re all dressed up, looking like that. You’ve been aching since the moment Nick stepped out of the bedroom, doing up his belt, asking if the two of you were about ready to go. It’s not often you get to see them like this. Having to keep your legs crossed, squeezing together to chase away that familiar buzz, feels a little silly. You just want to have a little fun.
You’ve been here for so long and want them to take you home.
Walking up behind Nick, notching your finger in his belt and pulling him back towards you, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, you know it’s not your best idea.
You recognize the guy he and Noah are talking to as someone in another band, not an exec—you don’t know who he is but you don’t really care.
“You want to introduce me to your friend, Nicky?” you ask, and he looks back at you with a sour expression. He doesn’t want you to be doing this, not here. Not tonight, not now. It’s just so fun to push his buttons. You slide your hand around to his front, resting over his belly and rubbing. “I’m bored.”
He narrows his eyes at you but he turns back around and introduces you—you don’t listen for a name. You shake his hand and place a kiss behind Nick’s ear. You catch Noah from the corner of your eye, softly amused with an overcurrent of concern. He knows where this lands you.
“Go sit back down,” Nick bites as he turns to face you. He kisses you but it’s short. You’re in trouble. Your intent hadn’t necessarily been to embarrass him, but tease him, a little fun to take the edge off just how much you don’t want to be here. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
His tone is dark in a way you don’t get often. The ache is unbearable. You go to sit back down and hope you don’t regret what you’ve done, waiting for Nick and Noah to come and join you.
**************************************************************
You don’t speak on the ride home. With Nick’s hand gripping you, you can feel exactly where the marks will be on your inner thigh, where his fingers press in painfully. He’s angry. Noah holds your hand, rubbing a thumb along the back, a comfort.
You’re ushered inside with a hand on the small of your back when the car pulls up out front. Possessive.
The door slams shut behind you, making you flinch. Not fear, necessarily—uncertainty. It’s been a while since you’ve done this and you’re not sure exactly what to expect. He hangs his jacket on the rack, not used to wearing it, muscle memory of the hook by the door.
“Go to the bedroom. Both of you,” Nick orders, voice stern but gentle at once. You share a glance with Noah but do what he says. “I’ll be right in.”
You close the door behind you, leave your clothes on and wait for Nick’s instructions, though you think you know what they’ll be.
Noah kisses you with a gentle hand on your face, thumb grazing your cheek. It’s gentle and you need it, though you’re buzzing with the anticipation of what you know is to come.
“You think maybe you shouldn’t have done that, love?” Noah asks when he pulls away, breath on your lips. He’s smirking but his voice is laced with a bit of concern.
You smile, settling him. You almost want to laugh, because he must have forgotten.
“I wanted to do it,” you assure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I appreciate your concern, sweet boy, but I wanted this. You think I don’t know exactly what I’m doing?”
You freeze when the bedroom door opens, slamming back shut. Noah backs away from you quickly like he’s been burned, like being near you will get him in trouble, too. He’s definitely forgotten.
Nick comes up behind you, wrapping his arms tight around your middle. It’s almost like normal, if not for his teeth grazing your neck, then biting down in a way that hurts you, feels primal and angry.
“You were very bad tonight, baby. You know that, right?” Nick asks. You nod, his hand sliding its way around your throat, grip tight enough to make you short of breath but loose enough that you don’t fear it. You never do—not with Nicholas. Even angry, he’s always careful, always has an edge of softness in his every move. “I know you didn’t mean to embarrass me, but they know now. They know my girl is a desperate little slut.”
You moan, cut off when he clamps his hand down over your mouth. The ache gets deeper—you’re dripping for him.
“Noah, go get on the bed, baby,” Nick says, and Noah scrambles to do it, eager. He props himself up against the pillows how Nick normally likes him at the start and it makes you chuckle, seeing him so ready to do whatever he’s asked to do. Nick’s hand trails back down to your throat, just resting there, not squeezing. With his mouth at your ear, he shushes you. “You,” he whispers in your ear, making you shiver. “I want you to undress and get on all fours on the bed for me. Okay?”
You nod, moving to undress and do what’s asked of you, but he catches you by the hand and pulls you to him again, your back pressed to his chest.
“Uh uh, sweetheart,” he whispers, a hand trailing delicately down your side. “I need you to be good and use your words. I need a yes or no from you. Do you want to do this?”
“Yes, Nicky,” you say, moving to turn around in his arms and hoping he’ll let you. He allows it and you feel a wave of relief, especially when you see the expression painted on his face, patient and gentle for a moment. “I want this. Please.”
“Good girl,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You feel yourself relax completely, reminded that you’re safe here with them. He gives you a slap on your ass when you turn around and you gasp, hearing him laugh behind you. “Dress off. Hands and knees, please.”
You unzip your dress and let it fall to your feet, watch as Noah’s eyes glaze over with want. You unclasp your bra and hear Nick’s breath hitch as it falls to the floor. Dipping your fingers into the band of your lace panties, he tsks behind you. “Those stay on,” he orders—your cheeks heat. You leave them and crawl onto the bed. “Thank you, baby.”
“Keep your eyes on Noah,” Nick says, coming up behind you, hand on the small of your back. You shift your eyes up to Noah, looking back at you with a soft expression, small smile. You smile back. You can hear as Nick unbuckles his belt, but don’t hear the familiar sound of his zipper being pulled down. You hear it sliding from the loops, and feel as the belt, folded over, grazes your ass. You shiver. “How many do you think you deserve, baby?”
“I—I don’t know,” you say. You don’t know just how bad you were tonight. You know you shouldn’t have done what you did, but you were so bored. Lonely. “Maybe ten, Nicky? Is that good?”
“I think ten is just fine, sweetheart,” Nick says, running his hand up your back, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder blade. “Do you remember my rules?”
“Um—yeah. ‘Red’ if I need to stop, or if I make a really pained noise, you’ll check. And I count the hits,” you say. Nick places a slap to your ass, gentle. You’ve forgotten something. “And I keep my eyes on Noah.”
“Yes, good girl,” Nick says. “You take care of her, baby,” he tells Noah, who nods up at him, then focuses back on you, reaching out. “Hold her hand, okay? Tell me if anything seems off,” the belt grazes your ass again. “Are you ready?”
You nod before hearing him sigh behind you. Your words. You forgot again. You’re so nervous, or excited, or a little bit of both. “Yes, I’m ready, Nicky.”
The first blow stings, surprises you—you yelp and squeeze Noah’s hand. “One,” you gasp. Another. “Fuck. Two,” Noah grazes his thumb against the back of your hand, brings it up to his mouth, whispers good, baby. Another. You’re getting used to it. Feeling nicer. “Three,” The fourth hits a little low, below the meat of your ass, high on the back of your thigh. You hiss and Nick pulls back, soothing with his hand. “Four.”
“Hold on. Are you okay?” Nick asks.
“Mmhmm, just—” you start, thinking of what to say. “That one was a little low. It felt bad, kind of. Can you try to stay higher?”
“Of course, baby. I’m sorry,” he says. You relax. You know he didn’t mean it—he always tries his best to be careful. “Thank you for using your words. Are you good to continue?”
“Yes, please,” you say, reaching for Noah’s hand again, who offers it readily. The fifth feels nicer, your responding groan breaking off into a sigh. “Five,” The next two come in quick succession, one on each cheek. You feel yourself dripping for him, Noah’s eyes glazed over as he watches you. “Eight,” you gasp, thinking you should misbehave more often. It was all thanks to that fucking belt. “Nine,” you whine. The last one stings worse than the others and you’re glad you didn’t pick a higher number. “Ten.”
“Good girl,” Nick says, leaning down to pepper kisses along your back, soothing a hand over your ass. Noah leans down to kiss you on the mouth and you smile into it. “You did such a good job for us.”
“I want—” you start, gasping into Noah’s mouth when Nick’s fingers graze your folds over your panties, pressing in slightly. “I want you. Both. Please.”
“I know, you want to be full, huh?” Nick asks and you nod. “How do you want us?”
“I want Noah in my mouth,” you say, and Noah gasps, grazing a hand over your face. “You inside me, Nicky. Please.”
It’s been a while since you’ve had them like this, full from both ends, complete center of attention. You wiggle your ass back and Nick groans when you make contact with his front, cock hard and insistent, pressing against his zipper.
“Remember, two taps on Noah’s leg if you need to stop,” Nick says, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. You hear them fall to the floor. You’re not sure when Noah got undressed, but when you look, he’s naked and waiting for you. Your mouth waters. “Do you care about these?” Nick asks, fingers grazing the fabric of your panties.
“No, Nicky,” you say, just before his hand presses over the band against the small of your back, his other dipping beneath the gusset and yanking, fabric tearing. The shock of the cold in the room on your lips makes you shiver.
“Look at you,” Nick marvels, fingers dipping inside. “Look at this pretty pussy, baby, all wet and dripping for us.”
Noah presses his cock to the seam of your lips, swipes a thumb along your cheek. You stick your tongue out to taste him, bask in the weight of it as he lays it on your tongue. You close your mouth around the tip, swirl your tongue and sink further. You never tire of his little gasps when he’s in your mouth or in your cunt.
You feel Nick at your entrance, sliding inside easily, bottoming out and forcing you further on Noah’s cock. “Oh, fuck,” you hear him gasp and your eyes flutter closed. You’ll let them do the work for you—that’s your favorite part. “Fuck, you always feel so good.”
You force down a choke as you’re forced further onto Noah’s cock, swallowing around him. You grasp Noah’s leg for purchase and his gasp is dizzying.
“How’s she feel, baby?” Noah asks, and Nick groans from the back of his throat. God, you love listening to them while they’re using you. “Her mouth is—” he breaks off into a gasp as you swallow around him, the slightest graze of your teeth, just how he likes it. “Fuck.”
“You know, dude,” Nick says, fucking you harder. You feel split open and can’t control the gag this time, as you’re forced down further on Noah’s cock, who pulls back a bit to give you a reprieve. You squeeze his leg gratefully but move yourself back down further, needing it—the gag, the choke, the overwhelming fullness of it all. “You know she feels fucking perfect. You wish you were back here, huh?”
“No, dude, her mouth,” Noah counters, a hand running over your cheek, into your hair, tugging and making you gag. Noah’s groan is fucking pornographic, Nick’s even more so. “You know how her throat tightens around you when you pull on her hair?” Noah asks him. You feel overwhelmingly full when they both lean forward. You hear the wet, sloppy sounds of their kissing and you bask in them. Noah tightens his hand in your hair while Nick’s hands move from your hips up to your sides, gripping tight. They chuckle into each other’s mouths when you choke again. “Did her pussy do it, too, Nicky?”
Nick moves his hands from your sides. If Noah’s whine is anything to go off, Nick’s hands have tangled in his hair just how he likes it. You wish so badly you could watch them—you love them like this.
“Are you smoking again?” Nick asks Noah, and you’re surprised it took him so long tonight to notice the smell, the taste of them. “You taste like shitty cigarettes. Stale. Menthol ones.”
“It’s her, man,” Noah says, and you pinch his leg to hear his yelp, payback for being a snitch. “She bummed a few during the party, snuck out front. She was gone for ages,” he continues, unfortunately not deterred, determined to throw you under the bus so he can remain Nick’s perfect boy. “I taste like her, Nicky. You would have noticed if you’d been paying any attention to her. I’m not allowed,” he snarks. You laugh—apparently Noah likes the vibration of it, muffling a moan into Nick’s skin. “Don’t you know never to leave a pretty girl like this alone?”
“I’m gathering that. Fucking smartass,” Nick says, fucking you slower, thrusting deeper and harder. A hand comes back down to grip your hips, thumb grazing over your skin. “Kiss me again, Noah,” Nick orders and he doesn’t hesitate—you quickly readjust as he moves forward again, meeting Nick’s mouth. “Honey, you’re shaking. You’re about to cum, huh?”
Noah doesn’t answer, not that you can hear, just thrusts faster and deeper into your mouth. You power through it, swallow around the gag, blink away the tears and let your eyes slip closed. “I’m gonna cum,” Noah gasps into Nick’s mouth. You double your efforts, sliding your head down as far as you can, swallowing around him. He groans, gathering your hair in a fist and stilling. “Oh, fuck.”
Noah’s barely pulled out before Nick is, too, flipping you over onto your back and slipping back in. You swallow, Noah’s cum sliding down your throat. He’s leaning over you again, licking into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. It’s filthy and makes you ache, tighten around Nick.
Nick slaps a tit, kneading it and pinching the pebbled nipple between his index finger and thumb. You let out a desperate moan as he grabs the other, fucking you deeper. “Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Nick tells you, right hand moving from your chest to your throat, tightening just slightly. “Keep your eyes on me.”
You reach between your bodies, middle finger sliding over your clit. You had already been so close and the first touch of your finger sets your body alight. Nick’s eyes are so focused on you—you’re short of breath and so fucking close.
“Nicky,” you gasp, reaching out for him with a free hand. He leans down to kiss you, the most gentle thing you’ve felt all night. Throwing your head back, you feel your orgasm reaching its peak. Your eyes meet Nick’s again. “Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Cum for me,” he says as it washes over you.
Nick is pulling out, then, jerking his cock once, twice, three times before his cum is covering your tummy. You always love the way it feels.
They bracket your body. Noah gathers some of Nick’s cum on his fingers, sucking them into his mouth. Nick’s eyes unfocus before he leans over you, licking into Noah’s mouth.
They focus back on you, Nick speaking up. “I’m sorry you felt neglected tonight, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have done that to you,” Nick starts, thumb grazing over your cheek. “If it happens again, you can just tell me, all right? You don’t need to act out.”
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you, Nicky,” you respond, but he smiles and shakes his head, letting you know that you didn’t.
“Can I run you a bath?” he asks, and a bath does sound so nice right now, the warm water on your stinging and aching body.
“Can Noah come?” you ask, and Noah smiles into the skin of your neck, snorting. You’re glad you’d decided to go for the bigger tub.
“Of course he can,” Nick responds. “Noah always comes.”
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nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 1 | 18+ only
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warnings: this will eventually contain smut so please be mindful. part of my goal is to explore ken developing a relationship with a human who struggles with their own vices, and doesn't feel qualified to teach him how to be human. i'd consider this slow burn with obviously eventual relationship fluff and smut (this includes ken doing things like drinking alcohol for the first time, having sexual experiences for the first time, etc.) not sure how many parts this will be but i will keep everyone updated!
also - my main is @snuffbby i just didnt feel comfortable posting it there, but you can follow me there if you want to chat or ask questions about this ongoing work. thanks <3 <3
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Meeting Ken was actually a complete and unforeseen fluke – not on your part, it’s not like you were looking for him. 
Frankly, you weren’t looking for anything at this point in your life. Burnt out, at the end of your rope with men and content to enjoy your own company in the comfort of your apartment, happy to work your menial clerical job for the rest of your life until a better paying career fell into your lap.
Or whatever.
You didn’t really care. As odd as it sounded, you were thankful right now for boring. For humdrum chores, for cleaning the kitchen and brainlessly answering emails for eight hours a day until your joints ached. 
Having been out of college for four years now, you’d put in a decent tenure at your current company doing data entry. It wasn’t challenging and afforded you plenty of freedom in your schedule. That being said, most days were seamless copies of one another – wake up, feed your guinea pig, stretch on the tiny sliver of patio out front, then head to the library down the road to work until your eyes crossed from screen fatigue. 
Nothing really ever changed. Yogurt for breakfast every morning. Repeated motions of the only three yoga poses you knew. Even your guinea pig seemed to look at you with confusion sometimes when you fed her, tiny eyes ogling up at you from her spacious enclosure.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you’d mutter, dropping in romaine lettuce and pellets for her. And after every complaint, she would twirl in a circle, waiting for her daily brushing.
The library was a godsend on these hot summer days, air conditioned and quiet. You didn’t even need headphones, but preferred them to focus. The secretary stopped asking if she could help you find anything when she realized you’d become a regular patron of the modern looking white table near the massive windows.
“Good morning, Pat,” you’d smile as you passed, and she’d give you a little wave, usually on the phone with someone or engrossed in a book of her own. 
Updating spreadsheets. Notifying supervisors of progress. Nearly nodding off at eleven thirty. It had been shaping up to be an entirely normal, predictable, cut and dry day. Until a silhouette by the front desk grew bigger, approaching your peripheral and then flat out startling you. Numbers and figures had started to blur together, so you blinked hard and shut your laptop – just to find an incredibly curious sight across from you.
Sat comfortable and cross-legged in the opposing chair was one of, if not the most objectively attractive men you’d ever seen in your entire life. Pretty in a way that bordered on unnatural, like a living sculpture. A long, denim-clad arm splayed out lazily along the back of the chair. 
This man gave you a calculated yet warm smirk that danced across his features. Bleached blonde like a model and face angled, glazed in sunlight that inched through the windows. He was something straight out of a fairytale – picturesque, almost glowing.
Where had he come from?
“Is this seat taken?” Inexplicably you felt the back of your neck heating up, a ring of sweat forming around your collar where your necklace was clasped. It seemed to sear into your skin as you fumbled over your words, deciding what to say to the stranger who’d placed himself in front of you like an apparition. 
“I… no, I’m here by myself. Working, I’m, uh. Just working.” Strangely, you noticed him make a fist to himself, concealed partly by the table, but his gesture of victory was obvious, as if he’d just won a bet or something. The blonde composed himself then with a twitch of his neck, nodding evenly, instantaneously cool as a cucumber again. His bright blue eyes studied you, your laptop and planner on the desk, your bag hanging across the arm of the chair. You’d never needed the air conditioning to be effective more so than this moment. Crank it way up – igloo this place all the way.
“Excellent. My name’s Ken.” Big blue eyes finally locking with yours, he puffed his chest out, like a purple and green speckled peacock trying to attract a mate with his confidence, his easy bravado. Though it was difficult to ignore the openness – the curiosity in his eyes as he took you in. 
Like it was his first time talking to a woman, or at least trying to do… whatever he was doing right now with you. 
You felt that your instincts would warn you if this neatly manicured man was making you uneasy or frightened, but you didn’t notice an inkling of displeasure. On the contrary, it was almost electrifying to be stared at like this. Flattering. 
Had been months, almost a year since anyone paid attention to you like this.
“Ken?” Unable to stop the laugh, you tilted your head sideways, scooting your chair back to get a better look at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Ken. Wait – I’m sorry, that’s not true. My dad’s boss was named Ken. But you wouldn’t, um. You wouldn’t know him. At least I don’t think so, I have no idea where you’re from. He was an engineer, this senior engineer for a huge company in New Jersey… we don’t keep in touch, he’s sort of an asshole.” You found yourself rambling on as you drank this surprising man in, freely sharing details about yourself without even telling him your name first. 
But what an interesting view he was. Painted still with this deeply intoxicating smile, pupils darting and eager like an energetic puppy. 
“I am not from New Jersey. But I’m sorry the other Ken was – what did you call him?”
“An... asshole?”
“Yes, I’m sorry he was that.” Your long winded introduction didn’t seem to bother him one bit. He kept his gaze unmoving right on your face, like he was terrified to break eye contact.
You eyed his white cowboy boots (did people still wear those?), black leather pants that hugged his legs like a gift from the heavens, and a long sleeved white denim jacket that appeared to be cropped, revealing just a hint of his lower stomach, and when you caught your eyes lingering for just too long on the tanned patch of skin peeking out, you sighed, shutting yourself up. 
You couldn’t shake one thing, though; leather and denim on a day like this? It was nearly ninety outside, you remembered, and cocked your head at him.
“Oh, I was talking about my dad, not his boss. And I’m (Y/N), by the way.”
“A lovely name for a lovely lady,” Ken replied, studying you to gauge your reaction to his compliment. It was clear Ken was attempting to hit on you, and it was equal parts unfamiliar and gratifying. 
“Thank you. I’ve never had anyone say that about my name.” Ken winced as if shot through the heart, his flawless eyebrows flying up to his flawless hairline, and he clutched at the buttons on his jacket. This display would have probably seemed incredibly dramatic on any other man, but for some reason it read as… serious on Ken.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
You shook your head. “I’m not.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”
“Well, I really appreciate your honesty, Ken.”
“It’s no problem at all. I would never lie to you. Not in a hundred million years.”
Very heartfelt words coming from someone you’ve known for all of… four minutes, generously. 
You quirked your head, caught off guard by his comment. “I… thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you over… here? To sit with me, I mean?”
This caused a beam to unfold across Ken’s face, and he leaned back in the chair, perching his chin up so as to look professional. “Can I tell you the truth?” 
“Well. Yes, I’d like that.”
“I saw you here last week. On – what’s the one that starts with an ‘F’?” Ken screwed his eyes shut, scanning his brain meticulously for a piece of very common, everyday information. 
This is a bizarre way to flirt with someone for the first time, you thought to yourself, bewilderment sinking into your gut as you helpfully offered, “Friday?”
“Yes! That’s it. Friday,” He uttered to himself and dropped his eyes, seemingly making a mental note. “So, I saw you here Friday. You were getting a book from right over there.” Ken pointed to the magazine rack nestled against the front desk that you once in awhile perused when the weekend approached, for lack of anything better to do at home.
You had checked out a magazine last Friday, in fact, after you clocked out for the day and packed up your things. It wasn’t anything special, just a stupid crossword puzzle collection with a recipe for a quiche you wanted to try making.
“You saw me on Friday and didn’t say anything?” 
“Exactly. You got the magazine, and then you walked home, and I didn’t know what to say because you were already inside. So then I walked back here – the library – and waited in case you came back. But that rude lady up there told me they were closing at nine, so I had to leave. Actually, she told me a little more than that. She said that I couldn’t loiter, whatever that is, but I was free to check out a book, so I asked her what book you had just gotten. But she didn’t want to tell me that for some reason.”
Ken recounted this like he was describing the weather with a colleague, just simple, redundant water cooler talk. Your jaw hung open in disbelief. Was he being serious? You’d finished work at four thirty. He sat here, allegedly for hours until it closed? 
He’d followed you home?
Before you could interject with a dozen questions flying through your mind, Ken continued. 
“Anyway, I thought about walking back to your house – and you have a big house, by the way! I had a feeling you would. You seem like a very successful lady. That’s why I had to meet you. Successful, captivating, beautiful, I couldn’t just go all the way back to Barbieland after I saw you!”
Had he mistook your apartment complex to be something you owned? And – what did he just say?
“Go back. To Barbieland.” You stated, smile faltering quicker than Ken managed to absolutely stun you with his fanatical tale.
“Right? I knew you would understand. I just knew you would, (Y/N)! Not to mention how long it took me to get here in the first place. So after security kicked me out –”
“Hold on, I’m sorry. I just… Ken?”
“Yes, my dove?” Ken’s taken to periodically toying with his jacket in positions that display his pronounced biceps. It’s endearing. It’s distracting. He’s stiflingly mesmerizing.
“Okay. Can we back up for a moment?”
Ken’s wide eyes regard you with infinite patience, wisps of his almost silver-like bangs falling against his brow bone. You remember that it’s only noon, and you’re still technically on the clock. In fact, your supervisor is almost certainly trying to get ahold of you for his midday rounds, checking on your team’s progress for the day. 
“Ask me anything you want. I am an open book. Especially for you.” He enunciates each syllable, adoring eyes raking over you again, and it’s beginning to feel a bit too much – and there’s a lot more information you need to derive from Ken before you can backpedal to… introductions and amicable conversation. (Not to mention the curling heat that’s pooling in your lower abdomen the more Ken devours you visually. He may have just dropped a bomb on you, yes, but he’s… well. He’s bewitching, alluring in a fashion that’s barely comprehensible.)
“Right. Here’s where I’m at. With all of this. I am very flattered by you, and your… dedication to finding me.” 
Ken’s grin overtakes his face, eye lines wrinkling with complete satisfaction. You almost forget your next words, forget to draw a line in the sand with this (gorgeous) stranger who’s just admitted to essentially stalking you.
But somehow, the pit in your stomach ceases its knotting when you meet his honest cobalt eyes. Not a hint of malice behind them, not a shred of ill intention. Not for the first time since you’d met Ken, you’re astounded that with any other man this behavior would scare you, probably compel you to call the police, even. Maybe you’d misjudged him.
He forgot the word for Friday, for Christ’s sake. 
But then there was this talk about traveling a long way to come here… about Barbie? This didn’t sit right with you, and the concept that Ken might be mentally unwell dawned on you, though he seemed coherent and relatively well spoken. Just a half hour ago you’d been toiling away with spreadsheets, and now you were silently cataloging all psychiatric facilities within a ten mile radius, wondering if a man of average height and average build could walk that far on a sweltering hot day. And still look, for lack of a better word, perfect. 
As you sat agonizing over the right words to say, Ken merely watched with his hands in his lap, boot tapping against his knee with no discernible rhythm. Patient with an emotion akin to devotion swimming through his watchful gaze.
“Ken… where are you staying?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Where have you been staying while you’ve been in town? Do you live around here?”
Ken smirked again, leaned in close to you, resting his elbows on your work laptop. “There’s that humor I like about you. Silly girl. I already told you, I live in Barbieland. It takes me seven hours to get here!”
“Okay. Right. So, let’s try this. Friday when I went home and you came back here. You remember that?”
“Uh huh,” Ken bobbed his head with sincerity, unfazed by this line of questioning, not picking up on how perturbed you’d grown.
“Where did you sleep that night? Do you know anyone here?”
Ken took his bottom lip in between his teeth, thoughtfully chewed on it. “Besides you, I don’t think so. The book lady who kicked me out doesn’t count as knowing someone. Right?”
“...Probably not. So where did you sleep?” You didn’t have the heart to tell Ken he didn’t really know you.
“I didn’t.”
“Sleep. You didn’t sleep?”
“No one’s asked me that before. I don’t really… get tired.” This confession strikes you as highly strange.
Your head began to feel fuzzy, and you guessed it wasn’t from skipping breakfast this morning. At least the sweat on your back had finally dried, and you inhaled deeply, trying not to startle Ken with your obvious worries.
“How about we do this. As you can see, I’m working right now,” you open your hand towards your long forgotten computer. “Well, I was working. And I’m not done for a few hours. But I think that we need to sit and talk about… everything. That you’ve told me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll just wait here with you until you’re done! Look – I wanted to show you this. I even got a book before you got here.” Ken seems excited to share, so you purse your lips, watch him as he procures a book from underneath his chair. 
Ken holds out and frames a well worn paperback titled “Misty of Chincoteague”, frayed at the edges and featuring a wistful painting of a horse on the cover. For some reason, this childlike display of wonder touches you, and against all reason you’d ever acquired throughout your life, something nags at your conscience to trust this strange man – something tells you, like a mantra beating in time with your heart, that this man is not a threat to you, he is not going to hurt you.
“Are you a horse lover?”
“I’m more of a horse admirer… they intrigue me,” Ken quips, scanning your face again to see how you’re reacting to him. He seems to be at once keenly self aware and simultaneously oblivious to how he sounds – how he’s received by others. This man is a conundrum, made up of so many conflicting personality traits and mannerisms that don’t belong together but mesh nonetheless. 
And, you tell yourself, you’re still giving him your undivided attention.
“I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”
“Really?” Ken’s act of unbothered macho-man seems to slip slightly as his eyes bulge, intently seeking for validation, wanting to hear you talk more about him, your impression of him so far. Maybe this is the way to get more information out of him, you realize, so you humor him.
“Not at all, Ken. Tell you what – why don’t you come back with me to my ap… my house, and you can tell me more about the things you like? Would you like that?”
In the minutes since you’d begun talking to him, Ken shone brighter than ever, practically buzzing with enthusiasm, gilded with a golden halo from the unrepentant sun as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Perfect. You lead the way, I’m ready whenever you are!”
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friends in the dark
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REQUEST: Hiya!! I saw you were looking for brienne prompts?if you're still open I'd love to see something where breinne for some reason has to go to a bar or brothel and the reader works there and is flirting with her and gives brienne gay panic!
Wordcount: 3719 words
[Instead of steamy, this whole thing turned into fluff. I couldn't help it. ;-; Brienne deserves so much love. I was writing it in a way that showed that her trust might've been affected after Jaime left her so yeahh. Reader is just delicate with her :) ]
"Tonight is going to be a night of fun and free of responsibility!"
Having convinced the Small Council, Lord Bronn shepherded the little group into what appeared to be a regular building not too far from the castle. Had they not known King's Landing so well, they still would have guessed where the Master of Coin was leading them all for his nature was incredibly predictable. Lord Tyrion had no objections nor did Lord Davos who only wanted to escape the confinement of the castle. Podrick, somehow, got the chance to tag along as well. Grand maester Samwell had gone home without entertaining the thought and Ser Brienne wished she could have done the same.
Against her own will, she had been brought to a place of the night's entertainment and the sight of the scene before her was enough to make her skin crawl. Women and men alike strode past her with barely a shred of clothing on them. Even those lounging seemed perfectly comfortable in the absence of garments. It made her feel entirely overdressed in her uniform. Never had she imagined visiting a brothel, and now that she was here, she felt entirely exposed despite being the one in a fair amount of layers.
Lord Davos and Podrick had disappeared to fetch themselves a drink, much to her dismay. Left with Tyrion and Bronn, she could feel their cheeky little grins burning into the back of her skull. She refused to look at them to feed their amusement, but Bronn was already having a good laugh at her usual scowl.
"Enjoy, won't you?" he jested as he slung an arm over Brienne's shoulders. "I'm sure there'll be someone for you here. If you want one that looks like Jaime, I can get him. But if you fancy experimenting a little, you're at the right place."
Tyrion grimaced at the remark about his late brother and swatted at Bronn's side. "Be nice, Bronn. She won't go easy on you."
"While I appreciate your hospitality, I will be fine," Brienne muttered as she flicked the arm off her shoulders.
"Suit yourself. At least get yourself a drink. Wind down a bit," Bronn offered as he tossed her a coin. "First one's on me." With that, Bronn trotted off.
Tyrion rolled his eyes but offered Brienne a comforting smile. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We just thought it would be nice for you to come out once in a while."
"I'll go get a drink. That's it."
"Be my guest. Don't feel like you have to stay either, okay? We know you can take care of yourself." Tyrion patted Brienne's arm then, with a hum, followed after Bronn through an archway to another room.
Left alone to her own devices, it was the perfect opportunity to leave. She had no desire or obligation to stay, unless Bronn caught her in the act, but she did not answer to him. The buzz of the brothel was livelier than she had seen in a while but it brought her some peace seeing that the people were happy. To some extent. It was nice basking in other people's thrills but she wanted no part in it. She turned on her heel and made her way to the door in a hurried stride, head bowed low to watch her steps than the scene around her.
"Leaving so soon?"
You saw her first when the Small Council came tottering in. They were not exactly the most subtle of people for everyone knew their faces but the one that stood out to you was the woman among them. The Lord Commander herself. It was astounding to you how a woman had managed to claim a seat among the council. A change in the system. A revelation.
She stopped in her stride to acknowledge you. You saw how her shoulders tensed up but after a quick look at you, she dropped them, releasing a slow breath. You were the only other person dressed in modest clothes. Something to look at rather than something to touch; a display. But Brienne did not know any better.
Shaking her head, Brienne stepped away from you. "I'm sorry but I'm not interested."
"But of course. Though, I'm sure a conversation wouldn't hurt."
"Wouldn't I be distracting you from your work?"
"The others are a bore," you scoffed. "I would much rather be in your company." You spoke with an air of fascination, the kind of glow you would not see in a worker who only desired to serve.
Brienne was uncertain but she was no fool. Years of experience taught her how to listen to the tells in people's voices when they were lying. She knew mockery like no other, in the face of it or concealed behind sweet nothings. It was too early to assume your intentions and there was nothing too strange just yet.
"Won't you consider... Podrick?" Brienne recommended. "Unless you've already had a go with him."
You threw your head back in laughter. "I've heard all about him. He's quite popular with the ladies, but no."
The laughter surprised her. Most well-groomed ladies would laugh into the back of her hand or let out a timed giggle. The way you had let the sound express itself in your physicality said more than enough about your character. You had nothing to hide.
She turned away from the door to face you properly once more. "Well, alright. I won't guarantee that I'm any fun to speak to."
"And yet I'm still here. You're not trying to chase me away, are you?" you teased.
"Oh, I don't mean to be rude."
"I was just joking! Come." You extended a hand to her. "Let us get some wine. Or do you prefer ale?"
"Ale will do just fine." She took your hand almost awkwardly but you were far too busy basking in your own delight.
"Because you are my guest, it's on the house~"
You sat her down on a plush couch, away from the other occupied ones where you could get your own privacy. Just before you joined her on the couch, you got someone to fetch the ale. While you draped yourself over the cushions, Brienne sat upright, hands planted firmly on her knees. What a sight she was. No other patron had ever swooned you the way she did and it was if you had forgotten how to breathe.
It took you a moment to recollect yourself from your rude staring, but Brienne had seen just how taken you were. It did nothing to ease her discomfort being in such a place but the somewhat civil exchange between the both of you was not at all unpleasant. She scooted a little closer to you.
"Forgive me for my silence. I did warn you that I'm not very interesting to speak with," she murmured under her breath. "I'm not sure what to do either."
"Speak whatever you wish. We can talk as regular folk do," you told her with a smile.
"But is there not a way for me to speak to you? As in- Well..." she fumbled with her words.
"I promise you, there is no catch. I speak to you as... An acquaintance. Consider me a friend." You rested a hand on her arm; something less intimate than resting it on her hand. "Don't think about my job. I'm not here for the sake of pleasure. I want to talk to you."
She could find no trick in your words. Even her suspicions were beginning to fade away of the possible fool you wanted to make out of her. You radiated comfort and it was all she wanted for the night while the rest of her companions were off in search of their own satisfaction. This was enough. When the ale came, she grabbed the mug and took a swig of it, a sigh following the large mouthful she had had. Swallow every other little insecurity that was nagging her at the back of her head, shut away the rest of the world and focus on who was in front of her, allow herself this bit of company without feeling guilty.
She had to admit, you were quite a beautiful person. She was as taken by you as you were of her but she did the better job of hiding it. The giveaway was the shine in her eyes when they found yours and they never seemed to break away from their gaze. She saw the ways your eyes smiled with the stretch of your lips, a pure glimmer in your own two irises. As you two sipped your ales, you would fill the silence with your giggling while Brienne stared.
If your beauty had not been the one to capture the Lord Commander, it might have been your tenderness. Anyone with a good heart could sway the knight, and receiving such treatment from someone who was beyond her league (or so she believed) was otherworldly.
Clearing her throat, she took another sip of ale and managed a small smile. "We could start by introducing ourselves..."
"I know who you are, Lord Commander," you purred as you inched closer to her.
"But I don't know who you are. It isn't very fair," she protested.
"You're right. It's only proper. But why should I give you my name if we will only meet tonight?" you asked, brows raised.
"I always remember a face and a name to it. I wish to remember the person who kept me company tonight while the rest of my companions left me on my own," she told you after a sip.
"What an honor! But it's no fun giving you the answers directly~"
"I'm not one for games."
"Will you wait then?"
"What for?"
"To see if I deserve to be remembered. We've only just started. We can deal with names later."
Without much of a thought, Brienne shrugged. "Sure. I will say this, my opinion will not change. I will get your name."
"I'm sure you will~"
"And what is that supposed to mean?" she challenged.
You leaned in close to her, smirking lips hovering mere inches away from hers. "Was that a challenge, my dear~?"
A sound alike a squeak rose from her throat but she remained where she was. Persistent. "Two can play this game." She inched away a little, unable to take the heat of the tension but the heat was coming from the red in her cheeks.
"I'm not one to back away from a challenge," you warned her with a grin.
"Good"- She was backed up into the side of the couch, your frame still looming over hers. How had you come so close? "I like a good challenger."
"Don't blame me when you're stuck with me for hours."
"I don't tire easily."
Oh, how it made you shiver.
But in the end, you two soon forgot the concept of time. Hours slipped from your fingertips, breezing away as you whisked Brienne away into deep conversation. During the late hours, more patrons came in but you two were too occupied to bother with the world around you. Whenever you could not hear one another, either of you would move a little closer and at this point, your knees were already touching. You thought you were imagining things but you could see Brienne's cheeks flushing red every time you listened to her speak. The most obvious reason would be the ale but she had stopped bringing the mug to her lips just a few hours ago. Being the weakest drink, there was no chance that the knight was already tipsy. The other reason was delusional. The adoration in her eyes. It was similar to what you have seen before from your patrons under the influence of alcohol and lust.
Those hungry wide eyed men. This adoration was gentler and Brienne was watching you as if you were a gem. When she knew you were listening and acknowledging her every word, she would look down at her lap before meeting your eyes again to continue her story. An easy tell, but you found it adorable. From the night alone, you learnt a number about Brienne, mostly of her soldier days while she learnt about your interests outside of your work. The burning question had been the path that led you to this place but you promised that it was a story for another time which she took willingly.
You shared a good laugh, shared tales you had never told your peers and best of all, you earned the trust of the Lord Commander. It was far too surreal.
However, all good things came to an end but in this case, there were other times to continue. Tyrion and the others stumbled in Brienne's direction to pick her up as the night aged, bugging her to hurry up but she barely budged. With courage, you took her hands from her knees and gave them a squeeze.
"Visit me soon, will you?"
"Not here," Brienne whispered. "Perhaps some place else."
"I'll be waiting~"
As she got up, her hands did not leave yours until they slipped out of your grasp but she did not leave just yet. She stopped the group for a brief second to ask you one important question.
"So, whose company did I have the pleasure of having?"
Smiling, you bowed playfully. "[Y/N], at your service."
For the first time, Brienne gave you a full smile. "It was an honor to have your company, [Y/N]."
"And yours too, Lord Commander."
You saw her off at the door with her companions and waved them goodbye. What a strangely wonderful day it was. Meeting the Lord Commander and the rest of the Small Council. There was truly nothing that could top this day. Once they were out of sight, you retreated to your quarters, more ecstatic than ever before.
Brienne kept her composure until she arrived back at the castle. She was grateful for the candlelit hallways as they did not reveal secrets as much as the Sun did. In plain sight, she did not have to hide the reddening in her cheeks or bother if anyone saw her clutching her chest, over her rapidly beating heart. She looked more disturbed that stricken in the dark. She had always been known to dwell in moments she should leave behind but it was the moment that clung on to her that she could not shake off.
Thank the Gods that Tyrion and the others had disappeared somewhere at the courtyard. She could not bear to tolerate their humiliation as the events of the night played through her head.
The touch of your hand on hers when she had reached out to grab the jug to refill your drinks, the genuine kindness you had given to her and not a single lie in your sweet words. The suggestiveness in the phrases you would slip her by; she caught each one of them. In all disregard to masculinity and femininity, on a rare occasion such as this, she felt like a person.
She knew she would never get another chance at feeling so alive again, but now she knew a name to the face she would seek for in the city. Perhaps next time she would dare to do more and take the step forward. Maybe she would be the one to make the first move. Gods, what was she to do? So helplessly attached already to anyone who cared to give her a chance.
She needed it all again, even if you were just a friend in the dark. She had to have you.
TEENIE BONUS:
Weeks went by but the Lord Commander was not a distant memory. Some part of you hoped to see her one day but you knew that the chances were slim. After getting to know her from that one night, it was obvious that she was not the sort of woman one would find lingering in a place like this. You often saw the King's Hand as well as a few others in the Small Council. They would approach you occasionally to tease you about having the honor of the Lord Commander's company but other than that, there came no regards from the lady.
That was until you received news of a letter waiting for you in your shared quarters. The other girls were herded at your bed, sat around the envelope where it rested on your pillow. Letters from secret and not-so-subtle admirers were not uncommon but there had never been excitement in the room like this. Most letters would be thrown away but you soon came to understand why the girls were eager to see who it was from.
A wax seal.
Only a noble would use anything so grand to seal a slip of paper. It was bold too for a noble to be in contact with such a lowly person, and to make it clear it had been from them. At least it kept the letter out of the bin or away from prying eyes.
Upon studying the seal, there was a sigil you did not recognize. A smaller house of moons and suns. A smart move. With a sigil or not, the girls' patience ran thin and they beckoned you to open the letter. You felt like one of those pretty young girls in frilly dresses at a fancy sleepover, huddled up with your friends in a nice plush bed to open a letter from your secret admirer. This may be the only time you ever felt so childish and giddy. Without a moment to spare, you popped the seal open carefully to avoid damaging the paper and unfolded the letter.
The girls began to cry out, a flurry of questions hurtling at you as you struggled to read what was written. Reading alone was a tricky task and the commotion was no help at all. It was a short letter, thankfully, and a clear observation that you had made was that this was no ordinary letter. It was an invitation.
"What does it say?!" you heard.
"Who's it from??"
"Do you know them?!"
You shook your head as you read it out to them. "It's uh- It's an invitation to the Summer's Ball. And it's addressed to me." You pointed to what had been an empty space where your name was written. "There is an address to a dressmaker and a set time to go there."
"That's tomorrow!" a girl in the far back squealed.
"You must go!" another of the girls cried out. "This is an opportunity you can't miss!"
"But I haven't got much money to pay for a nice dress," you muttered as you tossed the invite into your drawer.
"Maybe the person who sent you this will meet you at the dressmaker? Your partner-to-be for the ball," another girl swooned.
"I could always stop by and see what happens."
"Yes! Then, you'll come to us and tell us all about it."
"Now, don't get jealous when I've gone to the ball with many stories to tell." You flopped onto your back and waved the girls off, sending them scurrying back to their beds now that the whole ordeal was over.
"Well, it depends on who this secret person is~" you heard someone hum.
"I'm sure it'll be someone absolutely fucking gorgeous," you mused.
"In your dreams you will!" The girls all scoffed and laughed as they settled into their beds.
They continued to shriek and giggle through the night like children while you found yourself sleeping with surprising ease. It was a dreamless sleep, one of the most peaceful rests you have had in a long while. It was possible that it had something to do with the secret sender of this invitation for only one person came to mind. Or rather, a few. The Hand of the King, who you were already acquainted with, would be considerate enough to invite you as a friend to see a certain someone again, and Ser Bronn, on the other hand, would invite you to jab at the Lord Commander. The Lord Commander herself sending the invitation was more of wishful thinking.
You had not heard a word from her but you remembered her words. Not here. Perhaps some place else. Was this it? Away from this hellhole and in the castle? It was far too much like a fairytale to believe in, but you wanted to see where this would take it.
You were ready to be faced with a brutal trick as soon as you left to find the dressmaker's shop. After all, no one in their right mind would bring a whore to a ball. You still dressed up for appearances were a selling trade to lure people into the brothel, but you could not help but feel uncomfortable in the clothes you worse so often.
What made your skin crawl even more under the summer sun was the sight of the dressmaker's shop. You were ready for humiliation, for the girls to be there to laugh at you for falling for something so stupid. For being so naïve.
As you trudged towards the shop, a person by the window caught your eye. You stopped in your stride to stare just for a moment to see if you were simply daydreaming, but for once, your eyes were not deceiving you. Speaking to the dressmaker was the Lord Commander herself. Free of her armor, she donned a lovely blue with a sigil sewn to her top. A sigil of moons and suns. The same one on the letter. You felt your heart skip a beat when she noticed you from where you stood, a smile gracing her lips. Before you could walk any further, she was already out the door, coming to meet you.
"I didn't think we'd meet again," you said with a laugh.
She bowed her head in greeting, her smile growing in the slightest. "I said we would meet some place else. And here we are." In the daylight, Brienne was drinking in the sight of you, your true self outside the silks and false glamor. "It's um... It's good to see you again."
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barbiewritesstuff · 1 year
Text
Strauss blocked : Part 1
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Am I bad at naming fics? Yes.
Welp this was supposed to be a 2k porn without plot and it turned into 8k words two part series... oops? I just hope it lives up to expectations :)
I just want to thank my bestie @Igg5989 for beta reading (and helping me write) and @ravensmadreads for giving me the inspiration fir this fic.
Tw: this is SMUT, IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 GTFO I DON'T WANT YOU HERE OR ANYWHERE NEAR MY BLOG. Age gap relationship, boss x employee relationship, p in v sex and all that good stuff
Taglist: @feedthemadness-sweetie
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Section Chief Strauss was many things but when it came to working cases on the field, efficient was not one of them. She had tagged along under the excuse of performing personal performance reviews, assuring the team that she would not be getting in the way. She promised she’d merely be a ‘silent observer’ and to her credit, she had lasted an hour in that role before interjecting in every conversation and second guessing every decision any of you ever made, and because she outranked you all, her will was your command. 
“I think she showed remarkable restraint,” Spencer joked, trying to lighten your souring mood, “I didn’t think she’d last an hour,” he added.
“Did she really have to pull rank when I tried to order breakfast? Like why does she care that I like syrup on my french toast?” you asked, sudden rage exploding out of you with an intensity Spencer could never have predicted, “No, apparently ‘Girls my age won’t be thin and pretty forever, I should watch my diet before my sugar intake starts affecting things’. What a fucking bitch.”
Spencer flinched, “Yikes, I didn’t think she actually said that. I thought you were exaggerating,” he admitted.
“I didn’t even paraphrase,” you replied, looking straight ahead at the investigation board. It had been filled up pretty nicely and evidence has been coming in, but despite knowing all there is to know about the victims, their habits, friends, families and lives, you were not even close to figuring out who he is. 
And that was largely because Section Chief Erin Strauss wouldn’t let you. 
Somehow, she thought that because she couldn’t stand crime scenes and dead bodies, you couldn’t either. It was true that the crime scenes are brutal, and even Morgan came back looking a little greener than when he left, but this was your job. A job she wanted to review your performance for all while not actually letting you out of the station. 
You thought maybe it was because you’re a girl. The only girl currently on the field team because Emily broke her foot and JJ was off for her annual holiday and while Garcia was your constant companion on the phone, you felt like Strauss didn’t actually realise she was a real person. She never said thanks, or please and she kept hanging up while Penelope was still speaking. You took a deep breath, if you weren't careful soon enough you’d be the one they’d have to put behind bars. Or not, because with the way she was behaving you had a feeling Aaron wouldn’t mind giving you a couple of false alibis.
Because as bad as she was with you, she was worse with him. 
He was a good chief, kind and caring when he needed to be but professional and just the right kind of demanding. A few years ago you’d have added a couple more flaws to that descriptions -- bully, drill sergeant, the kind of man who found it easier to trust men than women even if there’s no reason for it -- but he’d grown on you. Your relationship with him has changed. At first he was just a boss, someone you’d go home and complain to your boyfriend about. Then, when Haley asked for a divorce and you got out of your own relationship after finding out your boyfriend wasn’t half as nice as you thought he was, you became friends.
And recently it had changed again. 
You had finally managed to schedule a night out with the girls after unsuccessfully trying to find a date for the seventh time that month. It had been fun, you had all danced, drunk and chatted until the early hours of the morning before calling it quits and returning home. Which is where you had been when Hotch happened to be walking by, or rather, you had been in front of your home when he happened to be walking by. You almost didn’t recognise him, he had shed the usual work suit for a casual pair of jeans and a nice shirt. 
“Hi,” he said, clearly not expecting to see anyone he knew so late -- or early -- in the day.
“Hi,” you replied hesistantly, not wanting to betray just how tipsy you were even as you swayed by your door
“You okay?” he asked, “Not too cold?” he added, helpfully pointing towards your dress. You looked down to see what you meant. Looking to have a good time and maybe bring someone home, you hadn’t dressed particularly sensibly for the time of year. In fact, you had chosen the shortest dress you owned, a golden number that showed off plenty of cleavage and left nothing to the imagination. 
You looked up, horrified to see him smirking.
“I -- err -- I locked myself out,” you said, hoping to get yourself out of that awkward moment by changing the subject.
“I don’t live too far away, you can sleep over. We’ll call a locksmith in the morning,” he offered.
“It’s okay,” you assured him.
Hotch frowned at you, “I’m not having you become one of those girls on Dateline,” he countered. You knew he wouldn’t force you, but if you refused his offer, you would officially kiss a night in a nice warm house goodbye as your only other option was your car. 
“Fine,” you acquiesced. He shot you one of his rare smiles, one of the ones that lit up his own face and that made the usual ball of nerves you felt in your stomach at the sight of one of the FBI higher ups turn into a horde of fluttering butterflies. He didn’t usually give them out easily and you wondered if this one was aided by alcohol. As you approached him, your theory was confirmed. Beneath his nice aftershave and his usually minty breath you could vaguely smell whiskey. Your drunken brain stored that fact for the next office secret santa, you just had to rig it so you’d pull his name. 
“Date?” Hotch asked after a few moments of silence, the click of your heels against pavement echoing through the night.
“Just out with friends,” you replied, accidentally bumping into him as you walked.
“Me too,” he said, “College reunion.”
It felt weird having him volunteer that much information. Aaron Hotchner was the kind of man who liked to keep his work and home life separated and rarely ever let anyone in. Letting the team in on details of his divorce had been as hard and painful as the divorce itself so you never imagined he’d happily volunteer information about what he did in his spare time. 
“I had too much to drink,” he added in a whisper, like it was a confession, “I get chatty when I drink,” he grinned at you. 
“I can see that,” you giggled at him. You hadn’t meant it in any other way than a statement but Hotch grew serious anyway.
“You can tell me to shut up if I annoy you,�� he said, looking at the pavement. 
“No I--” you protested, part of you wondering if the reason he kept quiet wasn’t because of professionalism but rather because he thought people wouldn’t care
“I like chatty you,” you said and he looked up, smiling at you for the second time in twenty minutes, “I also like smiley you,” you added.
“Did you have fun?” you asked a little later, for some reason, silence with Hotch now felt opressive.
“It was nice seeing them all. It’s weird though, they’ve all changed so much that I barely recognise them. Like, I look in the mirror and I think I look pretty much the same, I mean older obviously, but like I look the same,” he said, “and then I look at them and --” he brought his hands up to his head and mimicked an explosion, “I haven’t missed them though,” he added with a giggle.
“No?” You questioned, looking at him curiously. 
“God, no. Pretentious assholes,” he replied with a heavy sigh. 
“Sweetie, you went to George Washington University,” you laughed, “Of course they’re all pretentious.”
“Fair point, Agent,” he smiled. 
“Y/n,” you corrected, “My name is Y/n when we’re off the clock.” 
“And mine is Aaron,” he replied
“Well, Aaron, can you tell me how far away we are from yours? My feet are killing me,” 
“Not too far,” he replied, “Do you see your college friends often?”
“Not the majority of them. We keep in contact, call sometimes but there’s only five I see regularly. They’re the girls I went out with,” you informed him. 
“Are they nice?” He asked, “My bunch are…,” he hesitated, “They keep making these underhand digs at those who they see as less successful. I don’t think I’ll go to the next one. It just feels like a dick measuring contest,” he said, then clapped a hand in front of his mouth once he heard you laugh and realised he had sworn, “Sorry,” he apologised, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m trying not to swear because Jack is picking up on it. It’s not going great I keep fucking it up -- no wait! Shit! -- No! Fuck!” he exclaimed, accidentally letting out a swear whenever he realised what he had done. You couldn’t stop laughing and stopped for a moment, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. 
“I am polite,” he assured you, “pinky promise,” he added
“I believe you,” you grinned
“I am so polite that when I get home, I am going to offer you a coffee,” he said. 
“And I will accept,” you said, “I need to sober up, otherwise I’m going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. And believe me, you don’t want to meet me when I’m hungover.”
“Eh,” he shrugged, “You’re young, it’ll pass quickly. I remember when I was your age, a hangover was just a headache, now? I have to take a sick day to recover.”
“Aren’t you exaggerating a little?” you asked
“Never,” he grinned, “Okay, maybe a little.”
“You are allowed to take days off, Aaron,” you reminded him, “You’re human, you deserve a break.”
He shrugged again, “What would I do during a break? Haley has divorced me, Jack’s only here one week every other week… I don’t want to spend more time in my empty house than I need.”
“You can go to the movies?” you offered, “Have you seen Avatar?”
“Can I be honest?” he asked, “Those blue people creep me out.”
“That is fair,” you replied, “I don’t like the hair,” 
“Yes!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in victory, “They look like elephant trunks,” he added, “My house is there,” Hotch pointed to your left at a small white brick house. One that you had passed many times when you walked your elderly neighbour’s dog. Hotch opened the wooden gate and walked up the path, accidentally tripping on a badly placed stone.
“Watch your step,” he whispered to you. Clumsily, he fished his keys out of his pocket and tried to fit it in the door in the limited light of the porch lamp. Eventually, he got it in and turned it in the lock. It opened with a click. 
“It’s nice,” you said, stepping in behind him
“Liar,” he answered, flicking the light on, “It’s dark. Was. It isn’t anymore.”
“Well it’s nice anyway,” you said, looking around. Although the furniture looked old, it was nice and it looked expensive. On one of the rare nights you had gone on as a team, Hotch had mentioned briefly living alone in Seattle when discussing rent with Emily, and you wondered if this wasn’t one of the remnants of that time. 
“Do beer goggles work on furniture too?” he joked. You stuck out your tongue at him and he grinned. 
“I thought you were polite?” you said, reminding him of his promise.
“Right! Yes! Would you like a coffee?”
“Milk and sugar please,” you answered, trying to undo the straps of your shoes and failing, wiggling your feet out of the heels instead. You’d figure out how to unclasp the buckle in the morning, when you were sober and your feet were killing you less. 
“Do you like DC?” he asked, handing you a steaming mug of coffee a few minutes later. You nodded, taking a sip, burning your lip in the process. Hotch saw you wince and bring a hand up to your mouth and immediately moved to your rescue.
“I am such an idiot,” you said.
“Don’t say that,” he frowned, grabbing your hand by the wrist and moving it away from your lip, “Let me see.”
He leant towards you, staring intently at your mouth. Your head swam more with every second he spent close to you. At work it was easy to keep your all consuming attraction to Aaron Hotchner at bay. He was your boss and maintained a professional distance at all times, preferring to call you Agent, and never asking anything for information about you beyond what he needed to know to feel like you could do the job. But with him so close to you, it was easy to allow yourself to close the gap between your mouths and kiss him.
To your surprise, he returned the kiss eagerly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and battling yours for dominance before seemingly regaining his composure and pulling away.
“We should stop,” he said, then, he hesitated, “Should we stop?”
“No, definitely not,” you answered, pulling him back towards you. Seemingly convinced, Aaron let his hands wander over your body before tapping the side of your thigh. Almost automatically, you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and rolled your hips against yours. Hotch groaned, blindly stumbling his way towards the sofa where he placed you down on your back. He joined you on the pleather furniture, towering over you with a mischievous grin as he removed his shirt in one smooth movement and unbuckled his belt. 
“Like what you see?” he asked and you gulped. Although you had spent much of your private time imagining what Hotch looked like without a shirt you had never managed to get it right. His soft but toned dad bod seemed even more attractive in person. You raised one of your hands up in the air, gently grazing his skin and tangling your fingers in his chest hair, Hotch closed his eyes and sighed.
“Care to undress me?” you asked, Aaron’s eyes fluttered open as he came back to reality. He looked at you, eager and impatient underneath him and he smiled. He bent down, grabbing your dress by the hem. You lifted your waist up and allowed him to shuffle it upwards, slowly revealing what you kept underneath. 
You silently thanked yourself for wearing nice underwear, because you wouldn’t have wanted to subject Hotch to the panties you usually wore for work. Instead, you had chosen a pretty lavender set comprised of a bralette and a thong, which Aaron seemed very pleased with as once his eyes landed on it, he seemed unable to think rationally, luckily for you, the animalistic part of the brain the lingerie had turned on seemed more than happy to take over. 
Hotch pulled off your thong and shed his trousers and boxer shorts in less time than it took for you to blink. Seeing his erection jump free of his underwear and bump against his pelvis was enough to tell you that Aaron would be bigger than any man you had ever been with. You hesitated for a second, wondering how he would ever fit.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked but you shook your head, shuffling more towards him instead to make the message clearer, “I’ll be gentle,” he assured you. 
One of his hands came to touch your core, gently grazing the sensitive skin before allowing his thumb to rest by your clit. He rubbed circles around it, enjoying every whimper you let out before giving you what you wanted and rubbing your bundle of nerves. The moans that fell from your lips were like music to his ears. He desperately wanted to fit himself inside you, but he wanted to make sure you were ready for him. 
He rubbed you faster, with every touch you could feel the coil of pleasure in your tummy tighten and soon you tipped over the edge and came with a pornographic moan. Exercising all self control, Aaron brough a hand to his cock and jerked it a few times, letting the fingers of his other hand wander down to your aching core. He slipped one finger in, savouring just how tight you were before adding another one. He pumped them in and out of you, stretching you out, adding fingers until he felt you were ready for him. 
Hotch lined himself up with your pussy, gently pressing himself in. You happily swallowed every inch of him and when he bottomed out, he let you adjust for a moment before thrusting himself in and out of you at an accelerating pace. You felt like heaven gripping him so tight that he was sure he wouldn’t last very long. Luckily for him, it didn’t seem like you would either. 
Your hands were clawing at his back, leaving scratch marks that stung deliciously every time Aaron hit that spongey spot inside you, and your moans kept getting louder, spurring him on as he bottomed out and slammed himself back in until he could no longer keep himself from coming. With a groan he spilled himself inside you, triggering your own orgasm. 
You stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, catching your breaths before Aaron pulled out of you. He smiled at you, leaning down to leave one last kiss upon your swollen lips, leaving your relationship forever changed. 
Part of you wondered if anything had leaked. The both of you had been careful not to speak about it, in private or in public, but you worked with the best profilers the United States had to offer. It was possible someone had figured something out. Or, although you didn’t think she ever would, that Garcia had accidentally seen or heard something she never should have. Hotch wasn’t particularly careful with electronics. They were either in his suit pocket or in the back pocket of his trousers, it had never happened, but what if he had butt dialled someone? 
Although, you figured that was unlikely, since Strauss wouldn’t have come if she had any evidence at all, she would have just fired you. But it did explain why she insisted on sticking with you at all times, or why she had demanded a room right above Hotch’s, even though the hotel clerk, clearly wanting to impress the FBI’s section chief, had confessed to her that the room wasn’t all that soundproof. 
No, sadly, the more likely explanation for her overbearing presence was that she hated the team and how it was run. She thought it was too disorganised, too sloppy, and that its subpar running posed a threat to the FBI. You had to roll your eyes at that, you had been in many departments, working as an intern, then a secretary and eventually a full time salaried employee. You had seen more of the FBI than Strauss ever would, and you could say with absolute certainty that the BAU was the only team you had been a part of who ever filed their paperwork on time. Sure, most of the agents had a smidge of a hero complex and were far too eager to place themselves in danger when it came to unsubs, but the cases got cracked. The bad guys got caught. Reports got written and overtime filed.
And yet, she still insisted on making everything difficult. Quantico and the bullpen provided a little protection against her, you could always duck into a cubicle, blame your inability to speak with her on an ever climbing pile of paperwork -- even if you sometimes pulled empty sheets of paper out of the printer to bulk it up a little when it got a little too bare, a technique you had learnt from Rossi and that you had very quickly shared with the rest of the team. Only Aaron, the only agent whose pile was constituted only of real case files and documents wasn’t participating in the charade -- or simply pick the case the state furthest away from Strauss to escape her grip. 
Maybe she had gotten wide to the ruse and wanted to make you pay for it now. 
----
“Not feeling chatty?” Morgan asked the girl. She hadn’t spoken since Hotch and Spencer had apprehended her coming out of a potential victim’s back garden, red paint splashed all over her clothes. Once she was in cuffs and backup arrived, a message had been uncovered, the same message all the other girls had found and reported days before their untimely deaths. It wasn’t uncommon for unsubs to refuse to talk, although most of them at least demanded a lawyer or answered ‘no comment’ after every question. 
Avery Watts had been utterly silent since her arrival twenty minutes ago, and she hadn’t moved or blinked either. It was eerie, and Morgan was feeling it too. He was trying his best not to show it, but he kept glancing at the two way glass every few seconds, almost trying to reassure himself that if anything went wrong, someone would be able to help. He needn’t have worried. Spencer and you had made your way into the observational cubicle adjoining the interrogation room as soon as she had been brought in and you had been joined seconds later by Strauss, hot on your trail, and a rookie officer up for a promotion in a month and eager to learn. 
Avery shrugged
“Fine, I suggest you make yourself comfortable here then. We’ll be back tomorrow,” Morgan said, standing up from his chair and pushing it back underneath the table. Hotch gathered the papers in front of the unsub and placed them all back into his briefcase, leaving the pictures of the various crime scenes and victims last so she could get one last good look and one last chance for you to notice a reaction but none came. Instead, she grinned at Hotch.
“You don’t have any evidence against me,” the girl said, voice raspy from disuse, “You have to let me go.”
“I don’t need evidence,” Hotch replied, looking her straight in the eyes, “I can hold you for 72 hours without cause,” he added, wiping her self-satisfied little smile right off of her face, “And I will.”
Strauss pressed the comms button on the panel in front of you with a neatly manicured nail, “I really don’t think that is a good idea,” she said, sounding so confident in her own non-existent ability that you almost wanted to scream. You held it in, preferring to glare at her instead. Spencer, who had slowly moved to stand next to you -- whether that was to get a better look or to stop you from throwing your career down the drain you didn’t know -- grabbed your arm and squeezed it reassuringly. 
You smiled at him tensely and he returned the gesture. You were the two youngest members of the BAU task force and while a friendship was always bound to form, no one had been able to predict just how quickly the two of you had clicked. He was the resident genius, the model for the definition of a nerd and you were the ex-prom queen and cheerleading captain everyone at your school had voted ‘Most Likely to sell their soul for lipstick’, if either of you had been any less mature, the friendship would never have worked but as it was, there wasn’t a single day where you didn’t text, call, email or meet up for coffee with Spencer Reid. He was charming and kind, and a better friend than anyone else in your life had ever been. 
“Breathe,” he mouthed but you didn’t catch it, behind the two way glass Hotch moved. He placed the briefcase on the floor and walked up to the mirror.
“I am not letting her back onto the streets,” Hotch stated. As soon as the words left his mouth, the unsub moved. With surprising force, she flipped the interrogation table, breaking the cuffs off of the metal loop screwed onto the bottom of it and rearranged the piece of furniture right on top of SSA Hotchner’s trachea. She leaned in, pressing harder. Reflexively, Aaron tried to breathe in, letting out a raspy sound that raised the hair on your arms. 
You were the first to fly out of the cubicle and into the interrogation room, gun drawn and ready to shoot but when you kicked down the door, Avery moved away from the overturned table, hands raised up in surrender. Spencer came in behind you and immediately jumped to Hotch’s aid while the rookie stayed by the door, gun pointed at Avery, blocking her path in case she tried to leave, and blocking Strauss’ path in case she wanted to come in. You put your gun away and pulled out your cuffs, with a swift press of your foot to the back of her knees you got Avery down to the ground and restrained her. 
“Stay down,” Spencer told Hotch, one hand planted on the upper part of his chest, trying to keep the man from moving, “MEDIC,” he shouted. The rookie officer turned around and booked it through various corridors to get to the main office of the Santa Maria police department. Main office was a big word, only three officers operated the three shifts the day was separated into, with a volunteer officer coming in whenever the grocery store he worked for didn’t need him. The FBI’s presence had changed things a little, the BAU’s team of four and one or two medics permanently assisting the team dwarfing the police force without even really trying. It was lucky the police station had been built by an optimist in the late forties, as they had prepared for a mining boom that had never come and made the precinct much bigger than necessary. So big in fact, that half the rooms remained unused and only three of the twelve holding cells had ever been used at the same time. 
Officer Jones, the rookie whose name badge you finally took the time to look at, came back five minutes later, medics and Rossi in tow. They crowded around Hotch as he slowly regained the ability to breathe and then speak. You wanted to stay, seeing him hurt like that roused feelings in you you usually tried so hard to keep down, but Avery stirred and you suddenly remembered the reason Aaron was currently on the floor, recovering from the unsub’s idea of feng shui. You yanked her up and she yelped, feeling a slight bit of vindication you passed Rossi. He grabbed her other hand and helped you manhandle her down the hall into a badly lit holding cell. A ‘bed’ had been prepared, made from a thin mattress, a pillow and a scratchy blanket, and whoever had prepped the room had had the forethought to bring out a plastic cup of water. You walked her into the cell and uncuffed her. Avery glared at you in a way that told you that if looks could kill, you would have been the newest victims in her growing group. You turned around, walking out of the room as Rossi locked it. He turned away, but a strange sound resonated through the air and the both of you froze. Suddenly, you were showered with something cold and wet and Avery cackled, the plastic cup rolling out from under her cell. 
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atarathegreat · 8 months
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Something's Wrong.
The day had been as normal as it had ever been for Mikey. He'd been up all night, at six in the morning he made coffee so it would be fresh for his girlfriend when she woke up, and gave her sleeping face the most gentle of kisses before he left to deal with Bonten business.
Every morning was the same routine. A sleep deprived man wandering around the house with his own dark and gloomy aura in the cozy atmosphere a woman worked hard to make. As if someone had turned all the serene feelings into an air freshener and the sun was bathing everything in a caramel layer. Too early to wake anyone up, and too late for him to go to bed. All the same, he was calm and liked how he clashed with his girlfriends vision for the house.
Despite the normalcy of the morning, that carried lightly to noon, Mikey felt....well it wasn't uneasy, he lacked the ability to feel uneasy anymore, but maybe off. Wrong, that's the closest he could describe it to himself. Uncomfortable, but not enough that it bothered him more than a simple thought now and then. Mikey ran through his routine once more. Watch the sun rise, brew coffee, kiss Y/n's head, leave without waking her up. He hadn't missed a step, not a single speck of dust was left out of his movements. Was it because he hadn't made the same amount of coffee as he did the previous day? Or maybe it was off because he had kissed Y/n's cheek and not her forehead as he always opted to do? Mikey didn't have the time nor energy to think about it and analyze the little details until it made sense.
Ran yanked his gun back, upset that his holster had been broken (Rindou didn't care as much because the plastic was started to become tacky and clash with his brothers suits). Sanzu, who was constantly wanting to do Mikey's bidding, was keeping his cohorts away from his kings woman.
And he didn't have to. It was afternoon, twenty minutes past time for the girl to be knocking. Y/n always brought him dinner, she knew he wouldn't be home until well after and she wanted to be sure he at least had food to eat. But, she had yet to knock softly on the door to the filled meeting room, had yet to grace the room with her sweet smile and soft voice telling everyone hello as she made her way to Mikey's side where he would watch her from the side of his eye as she took the small lunchbox from her bag and set it in front of him. She was predictable, and to others it was painful how she always did the same things in the same order at the same times. Today was different.
The whole room went silent as she slammed through the door, a very overt expression of fear etched into her face as she jerked on Ran's gun. The plastic holster cracked and busted when she pulled, freeing the smaller weapon so she could turn and hold the door open with her shoulder. Mikey hadn't moved, he was curious as to what was going on. Why was his sweet girl so afraid? What did she need to take a gun for? Both questions he was sure would be answered when his men rushed Y/n, a little too late. She'd aimed, as Mikey had taught her to, and fired with her eyes closed. Only then did the room register all the yells and the terrified screams coming from the open office space.
"Back! Get back!" Sanzu yelled, one hand moving to cover Y/n's eyes, "Get away from her! I'll gut you both!" And yet, Rindou wasn't phased, "Shut up, Sanzu! She just killed one of our guys!"
"Sanzu-san?" Her pathetic whisper made him want to slap her up the side of her head. How could she sound so scared after pulling the trigger so easily? "Walk me to Mikey, please?" And finally he knew there was one thing he had to force himself to do for Mikey. He didn't like the girl, how pathetic and weak she was, and he failed to understand why his boss was so enthralled by her. Was it her scent? She did have an enticing perfume on.
The pink haired male was busy glaring at the brothers as Y/n reached up to grab his slender fingers, "I don't care if she was holding a damn knife to your throat! Get back!"
Mikey had his hand out as Sanzu walked the weakling to him, disgust turning his gut as she fell into him. Against his wishes, Sanzu did like the pathetic woman before him. Like Mikey, Sanzu was trapped by the sweet and innocent nature the woman held for men like them. She should've shot every one of those men around her.
"Mikey." Her sobs would've clutched the leaders heart if he had heard them years earlier, but now Mikey could only nod and sigh to her. "It's alright, baby. Tell me what happened." It wasn't a question he asked because he cared, he just had to know because it happened in his organization. How would he tell the others anything if he didn't know?
"He was beating her, Mikey...I couldn't just watch..." Her whimpers almost made Mikey want to stop questioning her. Almost.
"The man, he was hurting one of the ladies." Y/n still didn't open her eyes, waiting for the order from Mikey that it was okay. He'd told her when he taught her to shoot; aim, but the second you pull the trigger you better close your eyes. She wasn't one to disobey.
Instead, he sighed and pulled her shaking body into his lap. She reminded him of a shaking kitten, one that had been left in the rain or had been kicked around. "You don't have to defend the wh-" Mikey paused before he said whores, Y/n didn't like when they all called the ladies an awful thing like that, "The ladies. She was probably getting a punishment for something."
"No!" She protested quickly and loudly, dissipating any thought of a mistreated kitten Mikey had, "They don't deserve to be treated so wrongly when they're doing such a disturbing job."
"They chose this job." Mikey wiped his thumbs over her eyes, watching as she slowly opened them. If there was nothing else he was capable of loving about her, it was her eyes. The way the colors mixed and molded together, and he was given the privilege to be so close that he could see the way heaven rested in them. She had angels in the tiniest flecks of color around her pupils, and he could see the devil himself reflected in them. "They knew the risks when they came to work here."
"It's wrong, Mikey." She scolded him, tears in her eyes as he tried to justify such horrible treatment, "No one should be treated the way that woman was."
Ran stomped in, anger sewn into his brows, "Well, the whores dead, too. He killed her before the Missus could shoot." Rindou was right behind him, "One less person to pay."
Mikey chuckled when Y/n's face fell, the desperation in her eyes was funny to him. Had she truly expected a good deed to be rewarded? "Go home. Let me handle this situation and I'll deal with you when I get home." Mikey pushed her off him, "Sanzu, walk her past it. Don't let her see anything."
"Of course, Mikey." Sanzu carefully placed his fingers over Y/n's eyes, leading her, a little too quickly for her liking, past the scene. He stopped, indulging himself for a brief second and whispering in her ear, "Would you like to see? My first murder was beautiful. This one isn't, but it's still good. You have magnificent aim. Though, you were taught by the Invincible Mikey."
He didn't expect her to harden herself to him, after years of being nothing but sweet and welcoming. Such a harsh voice, "Do as you're told, Sanzu-san."
In reality, she hadn't wanted to be so harsh with the man. No matter how mean or upsetting to her Sanzu had been, she wasn't worried about it. He was and always would be Sanzu-san, she liked him, in only the way you can like someone who's rude by nature. The lady died from her punishment, and Y/n punished the man by the same fate, and Mikey would be punishing her when he returned home that night. Sanzu didn't need to be part of that fucked up train simply because he couldn't control himself. Y/n just wanted to save him the trouble.
Y/n paced the empty house. One would think that with Mikey having a ton of money from running Bonten, that he would want some huge house. But no. He was a more nostalgic person than even he was aware, and continued to live in his childhood home. All the old photos still hung on the wall. Emma and him, the two younger kids with his older brother and even pictures of their grandpa and grandma. It didn't bother Y/n that Mikey wouldn't let her move them or even add new photos, she understood that Mikey needed something to keep him grounded to earth, and it was fine that it wasn't her. She knew she wasn't strong enough to keep his mind right, no one was, and no one could even hope to fix him.
"Y/n." Mikey's voice was followed by the front door opening. She'd stopped pacing hours before, opting to sit in the kitchen where she would be seen the second he peeked in. And he did.
"You upset quite some people today." He muttered, walking across the small kitchen to grab a coffee mug. Each step was deliberately silent, almost scary in a sense, "What do you think?"
And if the gods would've reached down and dragged her away, would she protest? She knew she was going to be punished. Would she die willingly to avoid it?
"I did what I thought I needed to. I wanted to help that woman." Y/n whispered, wringing her hands in her lap as she struggled to come to grips with what would happen.
"And you failed anyway."
It was a harsh thing to hear. She had failed, and she killed a man. She killed one of Mikey's men.
Mikey tapped her under chin, hard enough that a slight sting echoed across her skin, "You killed a man today in the attempt to save a whore. A whore who died anyway. I won't make you suffer any more than that knowledge is going to make you already. Buy Ran a new holster for his belt so I don't have to hear about it, okay."
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nattaphum · 11 months
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Apo Nattawin x Vogue Men - June 2023 issue
Translation by MileapoSafePlace
CROSSING THE STREAM OF LIFE
It is said that if you want to know the true self of someone, try going through their Instagram profile of that person thoroughly and we'll see their character from what they posted.
If you stalk* Apo Nattawin Wattanagitiphat's IG profile, you can sense some feeling that connects the pictures together. Even though those posts are from different places/locations, different times, and different contexts, but most of the pictures communicate Apo's sense of self quite clearly. And.. if you want to get to know Apo's at a deeper level, try and Follow IG: @apovision, his personal profile where he collects pictures he took himself. Even though there are only some hundred thousands followers, which is considered low compared to the main profile @nnattawin of 3.4M followers, what connects the two profiles is the portrayal of his artistic self
"Po's characteristic, i think that Po is quite an intriguing person because even Po-self, myself, cannot predict myself as well."
Po answered when Vogue asked about his true personality. He didn't seem like a hard-to-know person, but sometimes it's not easy because Apo has his own world.
"I really love the naturalness/authenticity within myself. Po's character and personality is similar to a cat. I act according to the mood. If I want to do it, I'll do it, if I don't want to do it, I won't do it. (laughs). When I play, I play hard. Whenever I do anything, I just enjoy it to the fullest. When I'm quiet, I'd be quiet. Which like a cat, Po will have Po's own world"
Even though, in real life, he is a person who lives according to his mood and has his own world highly introverted, when it comes to work, Apo will give it his all and be very serious.
We can feel it from the way he talks about work, he'll give all the details, until you can clearly see the picture of what it takes before the work is completed, how hard he had to really prepare.
"I want to work to come out great, everytime that work is done, i will always look back whether I've done my best on that day or not, can I do it better?, do I regret if that time has passed?, it makes me look back at that timeline, in which at that age I could that much, with this age, can I do more than that?; therefore, the criteria i use to accept the work I do, i will ask myself all the time whether I can do it or not, if I can, to what degree can I do it, is that work over my ability or not, if it's above my ability, if I accept that work would I improve or not. I will continuously ask myself these things because if i got the answer that 'if I take the job that is challenging and it makes Po grow/develop, (I)will do it. But if (I) take it and feel that (I) wouldn't grow from doing that, (I) won't do it."
"The thing that (I) learned from the entertainment industry is managing the expectations of myself and of others, and... thinking ahead of myself that stems from myself such as egotism. Whenever this happens, it'll make it harder for us to work, less motivated, the efficiency when working will also decrease"
The clear sense of self in himself makes Apo challenge himself in new kinds of work continuously. He often brings out tactics in managing (things) with work to refine the details for him to know the purpose of working in certain projects.
"The method i use for working with the projects is using the What, When, Where, Why, How" I will ask myself before going to work time, and analyze deeper and deeper, talk with myself again and again, which is what I use with every work, no matter if it's acting, MC/host, or fashion. I will ask myself, where am I going, going with who, going to what work/event, who will be there, what does this work/event want (what's the goal), and what do they want me to do"
With questioning himself in detail, it makes him (able to) present certain sides of himself through his work regularly. Even though the role (he receives) is different from his first steps ten years ago, until today Apo has always had more challenging roles, which he looks at it in a way that no matter whoever tells him he's successful in whatever way, he will still have to keep on developing.
"I have to continue developing everyday. The word "Came this far" is not far for me. (You) can measure it from our learning, as for what are the things we've learned from the first day we step into (this industry) ten years ago. I have to develop all (that I've learned). For instance, if we did something well, it doesn't mean that we'll do it well tomorrow. or we might not be able to do it as well as today. Everything is a learning (process). Someone once told me that they're 50 already and still have to learn, develop themselves all the time. Therefore, i, myself, have to continue developing (myself) in every way."
The past year, he continuously developed his work in various aspects as he intended to. One of his dreams is to work with an international team, which has already come true that is to attend Dior's (fashion) twice.
"I just had the time to sit down and look at the pictures of what I've done this year. It's like a dream krub. It was so cool. Dior is a brand with heritage, their image has been curated really well. Both the taste and the brand's vision. Being part of the show allows us to learn, getting to know how they think, plan, or how they prepare things. Which influences us in the way that we ask ourselves 'What are we doing there? What did they want us to do? How do we have to prepare and position ourselves? I am quite proud of the way we (Po and BOC) prepared ourselves. When we arrived, we weren't disappointed because we're fully prepared, and can handle the nerves quite well. The (Dior) show was great/such an extravaganza, and it's just perfect for Dior's brand. (The way they) choose each person to go is also appropriate. It was something that i had to learn. I'm very proud to be able to go"
Apo said that in 5 years ahead, he hopes to be able to work with international brands in a definitive way.
"But as to what it will be, have to wait and see krub. Because this past time, the plans that (we) had, have completely changed. Like, even if i said i will go to Hua Hin, while driving, i might stop by here or there, or might just park the car and walk. Like no matter, let's just get to Hua Hin, but if you don't make it to Hua Hin, at least i get to go to Petchaburi, get to go to Cha Am, (and) i am already happy. Like whether it happens or not, it's the future, but if it does happen (I'lI) be happy."
On Man Suang:
Coming soon, he is going to have the first mega film, Apo said that it's another challenge as an actor.
"The role in Man Suang is very challenging because of the description of the scenes, description of the characters' self, including each and every moment/action in detail. In Po's part that is an actor, we have to portray the words (in the script) into a picture (the film)"
Apo had to lose 3-4 kilograms to fit the role of an actor in old theater/plays that has to wear the Thai traditional dresses and look beautiful.
"I think that this film is fun/entertaining. We haven't seen Thai films with a plot like this in such a long time. Plus, the mixing the arts of different cultures together. It's very exquisite and very challenging."
Even though he said that it's tiring, and every shoot took up all his energy, what (he) got in return is valuable to his heart.
"What (I) got back is the pride and proudness of being a Thai person. As a person born in Thailand, (I) believe that people around the world would be proud of the Thainess and Thai culture that will be portrayed through this film as well"
Seeing that you are this serious when it comes to work, when you let loose, what does Apo do?
"When I have free time, I find a place to take a walk around l. Walk in the park or around secondhand/vintage markets, sometimes (I) walk in the mall, or by the river, old town etc. When i let loose, i will turn off the phone, i don't care about anything at all, also don't limit myself to what I'II do. Do what I want, will shower whenever I want to shower. Leave the house whenever I want to, no plan at all, very chilled, like there's nothing I have to worry about in this life"
When asked about his perspective on life that once he jokingly said that no one would like (him), Apo said that he believe in "suitability".
"I think that when we find true love or the relationship that is suitable for us, we'll be calm/serene. If everything falls into its place or is the right time, love will happen on its own without us having to try to do anything. Because when it comes to relationships, it's something we cannot force, it's something that happens naturally. We cannot force anyone to love us or for us to love them. Beauty will occur when everything falls into its place."
Therefore, these days his love is given to his work and the fans, like 100%. Apo often shares positive messages on Instagram story as an inspiration/encouragement to his followers.
"In whichever way that I can be an encouragement for everyone, i will do it. I want to tell the fans thank you for supporting my work all this time, all the work that came out, i really gave it my all. Please stay and keep an eye on future work, including this Vogue issue too. Thank you very much"
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The Apothecary Diaries
S1Ep2 First watch
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Review with spoilers for episode 2 under the cut.
(Which is mostly me ripping into Jinshi.)
Jinshi. My man. I'm both exasperated and excited to see you try your plan to seduce Maomao.
I saw it in episode 1 when you easily maneuvered Maomao into exposing herself and confessing, so I knew you were somewhat crafty. Also, this being a palace intrigue story, I do expect some shady stuff. Even so, I was hoping you would be upfront and honest with Maomao. She was forthcoming with her background, skills, and why she stepped forward to help the sick infants (I'm of the opinion she may have additional secrets that she has not yet revealed, but even so), and yet Jinshi is planning on using dishonest methods to try and control her.
He's a handsome man in power, he's probably used to being able to influence women with seduction. However, I think this plan is likely to fail. Maomao nearly spontaneously combusted when someone joked about her becoming a courtesan, so I'm guessing his flirting will either fluster her in a way that doesn't seduce her or she will find it bafflingly or dishonest and do her best to ignore it. I'm here for anything, whatever goes down I know it's going to be entertaining.
I just met Maomao last episode and I already know seduction is the wrong method to use with her. He would find more success by appealing to her sense of responsibility, justice, or even just her curiosity. He's too smart. I predict that he'll figure this out sooner rather than later.
In the meantime, I hope this seduction plan backfires terribly for him. I want him to end up seducing himself and for Maomao to gain that power over him, where Jinshi hoped to take it from her. I want him to suffer in his desire for her, and eventually I want Maomao to return his affection, but not until he gets what he deserves for trying to manipulate her.
Oh! Okay, I didn't guess that. She's grossed out by him. Maybe I've read this all wrong. *Me rethinking everything. Trying to see earlier scenes in new shades* I'm not convinced she won't like him eventually, but if she is repulsed by men it would explain a few things....
Oh no! Or if she has sexual trauma! That would explain things as well. Ahhh! I hope not! This show won't go that dark will it? *Remembers human trafficking and infant death in the first episode*
At first glance the other ladies in waiting seem nice enough. They are fast to fill in gaps with their own assumptions and immediately gossip about it, so Maomao will want to watch that, but they at least seem compassionate.
Once again we are reminded of Maomaos self harm tendencies with her experiments on herself. In a flashback her father simply laughed and said "that's my little mad scientist." I wonder if she's ever had someone looking out for her that truly cared about her well being? She seems very self sufficient but Maomao deserves to have someone who makes her feel safe and cared for, especially since she's not protecting herself.
For fucks sake Jinshi! Once again he is setting up tests for Maomao without her even knowing she's being tested. In this case he had the food presented in ceramic bowls rather than the more useful silver to see if she would mention it. She did, once again proving her reliability and knowledge.
Princess Peach (I haven't learned this lady-in-waitings name yet but her hair piece looks like PPs crown so I'm going with that for now): If you had spoken up earlier and told someone you were literate, you would have received higher wages.
Maomao: I was kidnapped and brought here against my will. And taking into account that part of my earnings get sent back to the people who stole me, I wasn't exactly eager to.
PP: Basically, you would rather take less pay if it means not supplying the scoundrels who took you with extra drinking money?
This exchange is interesting to me and I think could be seen a couple of ways. On the one hand it could be seen that Maomao would rather suffer herself to ensure that her enemies also suffer than to allow herself to prosper if it means her enemies could also prosper. It could be seen as an act of malice at her own expense. Which... it is. But, that view doesn't account for Maomao's feelings about it which I'm guessing are more self-sacrificing. She would gladly forsake better pay because it's the right thing to do. Evil should not be allowed to prosper and it certainly won't do so with Maomao's help. She'd pick her own suffering every time to prevent injustice.
Goddammit Jinshi! Did he knowingly give Maomao food with an aphrodisiac in it?! What an asshole. He plays so dirty. Thank goodness Maomao is too skilled to fall for that, and now she's on to him.
And Maomao casually solves another mystery, with minimal evidence. She's way too good at this. It could become a problem if she solves an actual crime instead of the two accidental poisonings that she's done up to now. We know someone has tried to poison the concubine twice already so there is someone nafarious in the palace to watch out for. Depending on who it is, if Maomao exposes their crimes, they will probably come for her too.
Jinshi, you bastard! He knows his flirting isn't working, and she easily avoided being secretly dosed with an aphrodisiac, but ask her to make one herself? Well shit, he can get her to dose herself.
Okay so the emperor deliberately placed Jinshi in the back palace to test his concubine's loyalty, but I've got no time to dwell on that because HOLY SHIT! Does Jinshi have a degradation kink! I love that for him!
Meanwhile, Maomao's kink is apothecary ingredients. Lol! She's too funny!
Maomao. Just what am I supposed to believe here. You act disgusted by Jinshi's attempts at seduction but then you think stuff like this:
If he were to come on to someone, blushing and with those looks, it's over.
I'm sure it would be enough to captivate anyone. Male or female.
Moving forward we get this ominous exchange from the concubine and princess Peach:
PP: so the new girl is capable of making drugs.
Concubine: what a beneficial skill.
Does Maomao even realize what it means that she can identify poisons and make them? In a harem setting?! She'll be suspect #1 if anyone gets poisoned, especially considering she's a commoner of low position, meaning she's expendable. Plus, people will be trying to manipulate her into using her skills for their machinations (*cough* Jinshi *cough*). I feel like this story is in the calm before the storm.
There are so many dangers around Maomao and she's so completely alone. She's got her knowledge, skills, and wit but she is so outnumbered and outmatched. I hope she will find a powerful or useful ally.
Fucking Jinshi! This dude's out here stroking her hair, kissing her neck, and whispering in her ear?! Maomao has given no indication that she would welcome his advances, but of course he doesn't care about that. He's out to seduce her. Dick. Joke's on him though, he's going to pay for stealing that chocolate from her. If for no other reason than he'll be left wanting more. Hmmm. That's probably a metaphor.
Actually, now that I've said that, I think that might be right. Jinshi is trying to his best to distract Maomao while stealing the fruits of her labor. Both literally in this scene as well as more generally in all of their interactions. Jinshi has been delighted as Maomao has risen to every challenge and passed every test. Unlike other women in the palace, Maomao doesn't swoon with a sultry look, she resists that, even if she isn't completely immune. He's intrigued already. And he'll be wanting more. I can only hope Maomao keeps him at a distance for awhile. At least long enough for him to really get to know her, understand and learn to respect her.
Her response to Jinshi this time was notably different from before when he flirted with her. This time he didn't use his looks (she couldn't even see him), or any flirty comments. Instead he gently brushed her braid aside and kissed the back of her neck then whispered his appreciation to her. I am once again curious about her past. Did she have anyone in her life to offer her physical affection? Also, thanking her and acknowledging her hard won skills? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's going to work on Maomao. So if Jinshi has a degradation kink then maybe Maomao has a praise kink. That should be fun for them.
But also, why did Jinshi want Maomao to make an aphrodisiac? Was it just for the concubines to use with the emperor?
Now that I've gotten to the end of the episode I've got to go back and ponder about the emperor sending Jinshi specifically to the back palace. Jinshi and his servant are chatting about an incident when a concubine invited Jinshi to her room and Jinshi describes the incident as
an indiscretion we cannot abide.
And I wonder who he means by "we." We as in the back palace? The empire? The harem hierarchy? The imperial family?
Then the servant states a little indignantly:
But to place you in the rear palace, and using your beauty as a means to test their true character...
Why so indignant on the behalf of the rear palace manger? He's got a high position. Power. Respect. By most metrics he's doing great and his placement in the rear palace should be seen as an honor. It would only be seen as an indignation if one were coming from an even higher position. And what's higher than the emperor's harem?
To which Jinshi laughs and responds:
Our emperor can be quite cunning. We all use whatever we're given.
What would be cunning about sending a handsome palace official to the harem to test their loyalty? Seems like a reasonable request. It's the emperor's perogative to appoint his officials as he sees fit. To use what he's been given. Is there some reason it is remarkable to send Jinshi specifically to the rear palace?
Then to what seems like a non sequitur (but isn't!) Jinshi starts talking, fondly, about how Maomao gave him a death glare.
I've never had anyone look at me so harshly in my life!
Really? Never? No one has ever glared at you? How novel... for a prince. I guessed that last episode with zero evidence just based on a twist I'd like to see, but I'm a lot more confident about it after this exchange.
It is also the link that explains how the conversation jumped from how unusual it is that the emperor sent Jinshi to the rear palace to his delightful experience of being glared at.
Jinshi being a prince also adds color to some of his behavior. His expectation that women will fall for his flirtations, his entitlement, sense of privilege, not to mention the deference he receives.
I'm so intrigued by this story. These characters are 💋🤌
If you liked this, you might like my review for episode 1.
Episode 1 review
Episode 3
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ddostoyevskyy · 10 months
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Armed Detective Agency!
↳ 𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄... ❝a person who is attracted, whether it be sexually, romantically, or otherwise, to intelligence or intelligent people rather than to the physical appearance...❞
↪feat. Nakajima Atsushi, Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, Edogawa Ranpo.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... nothing much, lmk if there’s one.
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... did this with genshin men, now with BSD characters who I think will want someone whose smart:3
MASTERLIST
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⌦ NAKAJIMA ATSUSHI
↪Let’s start with this cutie. 🤌🏻
↪Honestly, Atsushi can be both attracted to physical appearance and intelligence. Although, if you were already incredibly smart, your looks are a plus point for him.
↪Intelligence doesn’t usually required for someone to be academically smart. If you are a street smart and can process quickly in a danger or a situation you know will be dangerous for you and for Atsushi, especially when Port Mafia is after him too, you could make such great partners for each other;
↪Intelligence and Strength, I mean.
↪He’s definitely one for intelligence and an emotional and sympathetic intelligent you is definitely something what he craved for; you understand his trauma, you comfort him without making him feel uncomfortable, you can definitely know if he’s not feeling well — or he’s hesitant to reach out to you over small things he’s insecure or something too personal.
↪You understand his emotions too well. And, if you are academically smart too — he would ask you for things he can’t understand when it comes to important files for the Agency, or when you gave him an educational book; he would ask you constantly from time to time as you were glad to teach him.
⌦ DAZAI OSAMU
↪I have no words.
↪This man is manipulatively intelligent and he can predict anything beforehand and someone who can possibly match his level of cunningness and mischief can definitely make him attracted to that person. Dazai can also be portrayed as a street smart man as how fast his capable of thinking and calculating, when things get out of hand; he always have different plan options.
↪If you definitely know how psychology works, and tries to use this to this man, he’ll go insane for that. Imagine him putting you in a sudden risky situation where he’s pushing you to death (but he also has a plan to prevent that), and you oppose his plans of using you in a bait — he was caught off guard by how fast your thoughts process and he’s ended up speechless after that.
↪Since, you love reading books — especially academical books; and if you are an anatomy, physics and psychological books, he’s definitely interested with that habit of yours. You can definitely read his tactics and how his mind works and having a someone with a brilliant mind made him want to take you here and there.
↪He’s actually reluctant if you were just really smart to figure everything on his mind or you are just straight up manipulator and mind reader (who knows).
⌦ KUNIKIDA DOPPO
↪This man right here, is undoubtedly attracted to intelligence.
↪Maybe, he had it written on his notebook too.
↪Just like Atsushi, I think him liking someone whose smart and can act quickly to get out of dangerous situations is really attractive for him. Especially when you don’t have any notebook or some sort of schedules on hand to do; you were just mentally organized, you can do things accordingly without any disturbance on your end (mainly Dazai).
↪Though, it was deduct minus point if you’re politically smart or someone whose really good at trades and negotiates — unless you will use that knowledge on behalf of everyone’s sake, maybe he’ll consider the fact that you’re smarter to that field he hates the most.
⌦ RANPO EDOGAWA
↪No words needed. This man DESPISES anything common sense and dumb thinking, let’s face it.
↪He always took pride of his knowledge and deductions and the meaning of obvious to him is solvingmurdercrimeswithjuststaringatthecorpsebodyorwhatsoevershitthatevengraduatedpeoplecan’tfigureoutwithonelook type of intelligence.
↪He’s been able to see through anyone and everything that existing in the world despite with his eyes closed. So, a partner whose par with his knowledge in crimes and deduction will surely crumbles his confidence a little.
↪Though, it doesn’t really matter — he’ll definitely be the type to be attracted to someone with intelligence or academically smart; those who love solving math problems (like how he solve crimes) or anything that includes solving and deducting.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved 2023 © ddostoyevskyy. Do not repost without permission or plagiarized.
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