Tumgik
#i would have drawn him too if I’d known :(
fan-fantasies · 1 year
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Do You Jest?
A/N: surprise!! I’ve been feeling really down lately so I figured maybe writing might help. This kinda sucks and sounded better in my head but oh well. Enjoy!
Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader
Warnings: Aegon being a shit, salacious language, making out and mild breeding kink if you squint, heavy use of wife and husband
Summary: you’ve known the royal family for most of your life, but never would you have guessed Aemond’s reaction to your own betrothal.
Part Two
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“You’re drooling again, brother,” Aegon chuckled. Aemond shot him a dirty look before turning his attention back to you.
“Don’t you have some handmaid to go fondle?” The prince scoffed.
“Maybe later. I’d much rather join you in ogling our lady.”
“She most certainly is not your lady and I was not ogling!”
Aemond was becoming more annoyed with his older brother by the minute. He couldn’t help it if his eye was drawn to you- your brilliant dress dazzling under candlelight as you stood on the edge of the dance floor.
A few suitors had asked for a dance but you declined each one, feigning an upset stomach preventing you from twirling about.
“You know her betrothal is being announced in a few days,” Aegon whispered. Aemond’s eye widened at his brother’s words.
“To whom is she betrothed?”
“How should I know?” Aegon scoffed. “Some fortunate bastard that will be between her thighs night after night-“
Aemond grabbed Aegon by his collar and pulled him closer.
“Do not speak of her that way ever again,” he growled. Aegon grinned at him before pulling his hand from his shirt.
The elder brother got up from the table and made his way over to you as Aemond watched in panic. He could see Aegon whispering something to you and your eyes flicker over to where he was seated. You nodded and said something back before heading in his direction.
Aemond thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.
He had known you since you were both children, your family being close acquaintances with his own. You wouldn’t say you were friends- Aemond always being too shy to approach you, but he had watched from afar as you grew into an amazing young woman.
He often found himself having sinful thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything else when you were around.
You were everything he wished for in a woman; kind, intelligent, beautiful, and gentle. You cared for his family as if they were your own and he was eternally grateful for that. Others often found it easy to judge them, but you never did.
He had secretly hoped that his mother might betroth you to him at some point but when Aegon told him your betrothal was to be announced, all hopes of that disappeared.
“My prince, I was told you wished to speak to me?” You asked, appearing in front of him. He could see Aegon snickering behind you.
“No, I didn’t want to speak with you,” he said without thinking, his tone harsher than he intended.
“Oh…I’m sorry for bothering you then,” your eyes dropped to the floor and Aemond felt horrible. He didn’t mean to come across so rude; this is why he kept his distance from you. He would get so nervous that he always said the wrong thing.
“No! I mean, I didn’t request to speak with you but I should like to- speak with you, that is. You are never a bother, lady,” he rushed out.
“It’s quite alright, Prince Aemond. I see now that Aegon was jesting with me. Please, excuse me,” you mumbled before rushing off. He watched as you left the great hall completely and he wished nothing more than to follow you. But first, he needed to do something about Aegon.
Before he could leave the table, his mother called his name.
“Aemond, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Alicent said softly.
“I’m not in the mood, mother,” he sighed. He looked around for Aegon, but found him nowhere.
“It is quite important.”
“Tomorrow, then. We shall break fast together and we can discuss it,” he said before bowing and excusing himself. His mother sighed as she watched her son stalk from the party.
Aemond wandered the halls until he stopped in his tracks. He saw a figure on the balcony facing away from him but he easily recognized your dress. He wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, but he wanted to make up for earlier.
“My lady, please excuse this disturbance,” he said, slowly coming up behind you.
You didn’t turn to face him or even acknowledge he was there.
“I would like to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“T’is Aegon who has offended me, my prince. For jesting that you wished to speak to me, for getting my hopes up,” you said quietly.
“I shall deal with him once I can find him, I promise you,” Aemond nearly snarled. He hates that Aegon has upset you, but even more so that he somehow contributed to it.
“Please don’t, I do hate it when you two fight,” you sighed.
“As you wish, lady. Just know you needn’t an excuse to come speak to me. It is never a bother to be in your presence.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, my prince,” you bowed slightly and Aemond’s heart sank a little.
“Please, just call me Aemond,” he begged. “Should you not find that too inappropriate. We’ve known each other so long, I hardly think titles are necessary.”
“Titles are everything these days,” you sighed. Aemond had a feeling he knew what you were talking about and his breath caught in his throat.
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard the news. I do wish you every happiness,” he said through gritted teeth. You finally turned to look at him.
“You do?”
“Of course. That is the least you deserve.”
“And what is it that you think I deserve?” You asked. Aemond was hesitant to answer. He didn’t want to reveal his true feeling, both for you and about your betrothal.
“You deserve kindness, loyalty, and honesty. You deserve someone who loves you and only you. Someone handsome and brave,” he trailed off while looking at his hands entwined before him.
“I’ve often found you to be all of those things,” you told him. His eye shot up to your face, only to find you looking at him curiously.
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Are you, too, jesting with me, my prince?” You asked, becoming irritated.
“I would never, sweet girl. I just don’t know why you’d grace me with such kind words.”
“Should I not be kind to my husband to be? I do not wish for a stale, loveless marriage. So if that is where we are headed please just tell me now,” you pleaded. Aemond found no hint of deceit in your face and he allowed himself for a moment to feel a sliver of hope.
“My lady, who are you betrothed to?”
“You really don’t know?” You asked.
“I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.
“Aemond, we are to be married,” you said, reaching out to touch his hands. You hesitated slightly but before you could pull back he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him.
“We are to be married?” He asked incredulously.
“Yes, my prince,” you finally smiled at him and he swore he had never been graced with the sight of anything more beautiful.
“Not your prince, your husband,” he said before crashing his lips to yours. You were stunned to say the least, not knowing Aemond harbored such feelings for you.
He held your body flush to his and the rest of the world melted away as he deepened the kiss.
He pulled away but you chased him, reconnecting your lips once again. He chuckled and indulged you once more before breaking the kiss.
“How inappropriate of you, my sweet wife,” he smirked.
“You started it!” You gasped playfully. “You know, I feared that you were disappointed when you heard of our betrothal. When Aegon told me you wished to speak to me I hoped for a moment that maybe you were okay with it. But then you dismissed the idea of speaking to me so easily I knew the idea of marrying me would only repulse you more- but now I’m not so sure.”
“I swear to you I didn’t know. I believe my mother wished to tell me at the banquet but after Aegon’s little joke and how I feared I wounded you, I wouldn’t hear her. Aegon knows how I feel for you and he knows how nervous I am around you which he used to his advantage.”
“You have no need to be nervous around me, it is I who has always been nervous around you. You’re so handsome and intimidating, I feared gaining your affection to be nearly impossible,” you sighed.
“Fear no more, wife. My affections have always been yours and they will always be yours alone.”
“You keep calling me ‘wife’ yet I am only just barely your betrothed,” you chuckled. His gaze darkened and he leaned in to kiss you again.
“The title matters not to me; I am yours and you are mine,” he promised before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
His hands grasped at your ass beneath your gown and your legs grew weak.
“Aemond…” you whimpered.
“Keep that up and I won’t be able to wait until our wedding night to fuck my seed into you,” he growled in your ear.
“Do not tease me, husband,” you whined.
“That’s what you think teasing is, little wife?” He chuckled. “You have no idea what lies ahead then.”
Part Two
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haykawas · 7 months
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✩•̩̩͙*˚ TUESDAY – GETO SUGURU.
summary : you have five days to ask your hot tattooed boss out. better make it count.
word count : 3.6K. tags : tattoo shop owner!suguru, modern au, pining, workplace AU, fem!reader, very domestic, fluff (?), satoru being annoying.
MONDAY – TUESDAY
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It was still very early in the morning. Just a few cars were driving by, and most of the curtains were still drawn. The only sounds you could hear came from the soft pitter-patter of the rain crashing against the pavement.
You wiped a droplet that had caught on your eyelash, inhaling the fresh air of October.
You loved fall.
Vivid colors were beginning to paint the trees and foliage everywhere, and people had already started decorating their houses for Halloween, setting the mood for the whole city. Another advantage was that almost every morning, you got to warm your cold hands around some hot cocoa.
You grinned as you took a sip of your drink, the warm beverage burning your throat, and you let out a pleased hum of satisfaction at the feeling. Your umbrella shielded you from the rain almost entirely, even though a few drops still managed to reach you. But you didn’t mind that, at all. In fact, it soothed you. So much, that you could feel your eyelids becoming heavy.
You shook your head to wake up from your daze. Today, you actually had some work waiting for you at the shop, and you couldn’t afford to fall behind it, or become distracted. At all. Be it by the soothing sounds of the rain, or by your stupidly handsome boss and coworker.
You pushed the door of the shop open, shaking your umbrella before putting it down to dry. You expected to find the parlor still dark and quiet, but you were surprised by the sight when your eyes caught onto Satoru.
Satoru. Here. Before you.
You had to be dreaming.
It wasn’t that Satoru was a heavy sleeper, no. In fact, he was actually often – always? – up very early, but he absolutely never arrived before you did. Despite being an early riser, he almost came to work late every morning for some reason, and you simply blamed the fact he’d always been peculiar as far as you’d known him. That or maybe he’d gotten involved into some shady operations, but again, it was none of your business.
It must’ve helped that he was the most talented tattoo artist you’d ever met – the best of his generation, you’d often heard people say. And Suguru’s best friend, too. 
As you approached him, you couldn’t suppress the smirk that crept onto your lips, “Gojo Satoru, here already? Thought I was seeing a ghost. Did you get lost on your way to your secret underground lair?”
Satoru laughed, wiggling his brows at you, “You wish I’d tell you, uh?” You couldn’t help but snort.
“Yeah, right, just wanted to know what you were up to. You think because you’re friends with the boss you get to slack off, loser?”
Satoru feigned indignation, one hand hovering over his heart, “I’ll have you know I’m a very busy man!”
“And to what do I owe the please of your company then, Mister busy man?” You said, trying to keep yourself from laughing at his face.
“Does there always have to be a reason?” He lifted a brow, hands on his hips.
“So?”
“Suguru asked me.” He grumbled as your smile grew even bigger. “But I won’t be around all day, just came in earlier to get more work done.”
“Oh?” Your eyes found his, curious, “Any reason why?”
“He needs some help with personal stuff, I think? So I’m dropping by. And since he won’t be coming in to work today, I volunteered to take in his shift. Aren’t I just perfect?”
“He didn’t give you a choice, did he?”
“Nope!”  Your friend exclaimed, and you watched him walk away to prepare the shop for opening.
However, your smile quickly faded and you found yourself lost in thought. Was there a particular reason why Suguru wouldn’t show up at work today? You observed your friend for a moment, a faint smile on your lips as you saw him struggling to set up all the work equipment for the day, wondering if you would even dare ask him about his best friend’s whereabouts.
Of course, such a question wouldn’t have been abnormal at all if you’d asked literally anyone else. But this was Satoru. The same Satoru that had always teased you relentlessly about your love life since you’d met in college. The very same Satoru who’d caught you, not so long ago, daydreaming while intently looking at his best friend. You remembered it like it was yesterday, the knowing smile he’d made when your eyes had met after you had averted your gaze from Suguru.
And since then, it’d been hell. He just wouldn’t let it go. While he hadn’t addressed the matter directly with you, he’d been dropping constant hints, which you’d vehemently denied.
But this had been your mistake, denying it. Because even if carefree, Satoru was far from stupid, and he must have realized that you’d never gone to such lengths to deny a supposed crush before.
And yet, he’d teased you more than once, and not only with your former college aquaintances, but also with Choso, your coworker – the same Choso you’d always considered like your own brother, the mere thought of the two of you together making you uneasy.
He must have felt your persistent glare on him, because Satoru stopped what he’d been doing and turned to you, hands on his hips.
“Spit it out, I know you’ve been dying to ask.” He said, breaking the silence.
Your eyes widened, and you felt your cheeks burn. Why did he have to be so observant? You sighed, breaking eye contact, unable to withstand his piercing blue gaze. He knew you far too well now, so much that it had become dangerous.
“You know, secrets have a way of gnawing at you and you’ve never been good at hiding things from me! So,” He dragged out, slowly approaching you, “what’s up?”
You rolled your eyes, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing, again. Just thinking about Suguru, he usually, like, never misses a day.” You immediately cursed at yourself for saying it that way, and admitting you were literally thinking about your boss, his best friend.
“Ohhh, so that’s what it was about?” He replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief, but he made absolutely no comment. Well, that was new. And concerning.
He shrugged, “He didn’t tell me much.”
“But if you’re that curious, I’m heading to his place right after my shift. Sooo,” He dragged out, feigning nonchalance, but side-eyeing you at the same time. “You could tag along.”
You blinked at the proposal. You? At Suguru’s house, uninvited? When you could be home relaxing instead of freaking out for intruding on his private space? Yeah, sure, like you would agree. However, before you could voice your refusal, Satoru beat you to it.
“He could use your help.”
Oh. Oh, that fucker knew how to play his cards just right.
“Fine, I’ll go.” And before Satoru could jump on you to choke you with one of his infamous bear hugs – they were more like headlocks, really –, you lifted a finger to add one condition, “But only if I don’t fall behind on my appointments!”
Satoru rolled his eyes, waving you off, “Sure, yeah, whatever you say!”
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You now stood in front of Suguru’s apartment, cursing the day you’d decided to befriend the white-haired menace that was your friend.
You considered going back, but the door opened before you had the chance to say a single word, revealing a very disheveled Suguru. Your mouth fell open in surprise, eyes briefly meeting Suguru’s dark orbs before he redirected them towards his friend, who was already whining, making comments about him being some kind of sorcerer, because how could he possibly have known they’d be here?
“You stomp like crazy, man. I’d have to be deaf not to know.” He grumbled. Satoru stuck his tongue out at him, showing no signs of remorse, and Suguru flipped him off.
“Hey, manners! I brought a guest!” He exclaimed, his arms still around your shoulders as he squeezed you against him to make your presence known. 
Suguru immediately redirected his attention toward you, his scowl transforming into a small knowing smile.
“I can see that.” His eyes lingered on you, before he redirected his attention to Satoru, “And to what do I owe the honor?”
His friend groaned in annoyance, “Quit the formalities and just let us in!” He said, immediately pushing Suguru aside to barge into his flat. “Don’t you know letting guests wait outside is rude?”
“You’re not a guest. Who called you in, already?”
“You did! Shoko told me you also wanted me to bring you stuff. And because I’m such an amazing friend, I’m here! There,” Satoru tossed him the folders he’d brought from work, Suguru catching them effortlessly.
He sighed, figuring out the issue. “I specifically asked Shoko to do it because I knew for a fact you were gonna come here and give me a headache.”
The white-haired man lifted his hands in surrender, “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior!” Before disappearing into his friend’s house.
You silently cursed at your friend for leaving you there alone with his best friend, especially so when you turned your head towards him only to find him already eyeing you up with a slightly amused smirk, enjoying your slight – and very noticeable – discomfort.
“You wanna come in?” He asked as he made space for you. You nodded and stepped into the apartment, brushing against Suguru who still lingered in the doorway.
You observed his place, eyes going over his wooden furniture, and found yourself pleasantly surprised by the warmth it seemed to exude. It was certainly very different from the modern and somewhat cold feel of Satoru’s apartment, which you’d visited several times before.
“You like it?”
“I do, it’s very…warm. And personal.”
He laughed deeply, “I do spend most of my time here, and Satoru’s there very often. It had to be.”
You hummed, smiling at him in understanding.
“So what made you skip work today, boss?” You lift a brow with a teasing smile, finally asking the million-dollar question.
“Ah, please don’t remind me. I keep thinking about the things I’m gonna have to take care of when I get back.” He sighed. “But I’ve been feeling sick since last night, figured I’d stay home like a recluse instead of contaminating you all.”
“Well, until you two showed up.”
“Hey! I had to, Satoru practically dragged me here!” You exclaimed, and he snorted at your apparent distress, not thinking for a second that you’d just lied to his face. Satoru had asked you once, and you’d said yes. He didn’t even have to convince you. 
“I know how he can be, I’m not blaming you!” He chuckled fondly, envisioning perfectly how Satoru must have dragged you here against your will like he’d always done with him.
“But just so you know,” He continued, “you don’t have to go all this way for me because I’m your boss, hm? They’re gonna think I’m taking advantage of you outside your hours.” He teased with a grin, and you had to advert your eyes from the blinding sight that he was.
“It’s not like that, really. You’re a friend of Satoru’s, so you’re not just my boss.” You said without thinking, and Suguru hummed in approval. “Besides, I figured you’d need some help with stuff. And I’m not sure Satoru’s the one for the task. Where the hell did he go?” 
“Help?” He cocked his head, as he thought about it, ignoring your question. He knew where his best friend was, either sleeping or rummaging through his games and making a mess in his bedroom, as usual. It must have looked innocent to some, but the dark-haired man knew his friend had been up to something, for the past few days. And he had to find out what it was.
“Well, now that you’re asking, I was just about to start on dinner before you two barged in. Care to help out?”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across Suguru’s cozy kitchen, you found yourself standing beside him, listening to his voice as he gave you advice on how he liked to prep his ingredients. 
“So, what’s on the menu tonight, Chef?” You joked, trying to break the tension that seemed to hang in the air. You two weren’t used to be alone without Satoru as an intermediary, and it couldn’t be more obvious.
Suguru cleared his throat, his voice deeper than usual, slightly hoarse from the sickness. “Hm, was thinking of making my famous stir-fry,” he replied, “can you gather the ingredients?”
“Yes, Chef!” You grinned, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. He leaned against the counter, a soft smile on his lips as he watched you bustling about, gathering all the utensils you’d need to make dinner. You quickly turned to ask him where he kept the rice, and caught him following your every move, his eyes half-lidded. You heart skipped a beat, and you immediately turned back around, forgetting what you were about to ask him.
He was sick. You had to get it back together.
Shaking your head, you opened the cupboard to grab the salt, but sighed when your eyes found it, perched on the cabinet’s top shelf. You tiptoed, convinced you could retrieve it on your own, but the cabinet was strangely positioned in a rather elevated spot.
“Here.” Suguru’s sweet and deep voice suddenly reached your ears, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck. You could feel his solid body against yours as he stretched to grab what you’d been trying to, and you swore you could feel his abs pressing against your back even through his loose-fitting shirt. His fingers brushed against yours as he took hold of the item.
As soon as he put it down on the counter, you smoothly pushed him away and put distance between the two of you, accusatively pointing at the cupboard.
“What the hell is it so high for anyway? Do you live with giants?” 
He laughed, “Well, in a way. Me and Satoru could be considered giants.”
“Right.” You shook your head, pushing yourself to get back to the task at hand to avoid thinking about what had just happened. Your hands began chopping the vegetables, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filling the room. 
The scent of garlic and ginger filled the kitchen, and you smiled as you inhaled the pleasant scent. You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Suguru, and you wish you hadn’t. He seemed lost in thought, his dark hair was slightly tousled, and his cheeks were slightly flushed, a combination of his illness and the warmth of the kitchen. 
The man sighed as his hair got in the way yet again. He hadn’t found the time to trim it recently, and it had gotten quite long.
He paused for a moment, rinsing his hands before his fingers deftly started to gather his long dark hair. With a practiced grace that was so common with him, he pulled his hair back, securing it in a loose and messy ponytail. He sighed in annoyance as some strands were too short to be kept in place, blowing air to get them out of his eyes. His eyes found yours as he seemed to notice your sudden silence, strands of silky hair framing his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and elegant curve of his neck.
He gave you a shy smile, surprised you’d caught him in what had strangely felt like such an intimate moment to witness, and averted his eyes to the rice that’d been fizzling in the frying pan. After hard work came comfort, and you both sat down to savor the delicious meal you’d prepared – well, Suguru had done most of it, you’d mainly chopped the vegetables and fetched the ingredients, really –.
Suguru watched you intently as he waited for you to taste his famous dish. His eyes crinkled in amusement and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you let out an involuntary moan of pleasure at the taste.
“This is fucking incredible, Suguru!” You managed to say between bites, cheeks full, “I can’t believe how good this tastes! Why the hell didn’t I know how good of a cook you were?” You exclaimed.
His lips curled into a proud smile at your praise, “Glad you like it. I wasn’t always that good, you know? I used to burn pasta.”
“Pasta?” You deadpaned, eyes wide. “How come you’re so good, then?”
He grinned, “Had to fend for myself since I was very young. Practice makes perfect, right?”
Oh. Your heart ached as you considered the implications of his words. At the end of the day, you didn’t know that much about him, and the fact he might have had a difficult childhood would have never crossed your mind if he hadn’t made allusions to it. You nodded, not really knowing what to respond, but not really keen on delving deeper into the issue.
You weren’t close, there was no need for him to tell you about his past struggles when you were only sharing a meal.
You proceeded to talk about your respective days, you telling him about the peculiar clients that had come in today, and him intently listening to you for the most part. He’d also told you about the documents Satoru had brought him, which you’d been curious about, and happened to be sketches he’d started and wanted to touch up before tomorrow morning.
You smiled as you watched him talk, nodding slightly whenever he would speak about something that demanded an immediate reaction. You couldn't believe how comfortable you'd gotten with him. Sure, there were still moments where you felt embarrassed, after all, he was a new acquaintance you still hadn't gotten used to. However, he had this talent that was so unbelievably his, the skill to put anyone at ease with just a few words.
He might have looked intimidating to a lot of people, with his fully tattooed arms, many piercings and dark eyes, but this image of him completely crumbled the moment he opened his mouth. He was a smooth talker, luring people in and charming them effortlessly.
And you couldn’t deny it. The fact Suguru wasn’t only a skilled chef, but also a vision of breathtaking allure. And you wondered how someone like this could ever reciprocate the feelings you harbored deep inside.
After the meal, you moved to the living room, settling onto the sofa. The warmth from the kitchen and the contented feeling brought by the dinner you two had just had enveloped you as you continued your conversation. 
As he talked, you couldn’t help but notice a few strands of Suguru’s long hair escaping from his ponytail, falling gracefully across his forehead.
You spoke up, feeling brave, “You know,” he immediately gave you his undivided attention, and you felt slightly shy under his gaze, “If you’re finding your hair bothersome, I could help you with it. Maybe trim it a bit?”
“Oh.” He said, voice tinged with surprise at your question, and at the fact you’d noticed his annoyance. “You’d do that?” 
“Yeah, it���s no big deal.” You approached him on your knees so you could get a good look at him, skimming your fingers through the strands of dark hair framing his face, as you thought about how you could arrange it, “I’m used to your type of hair, shouldn’t be too difficult.”
The man cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to avoid your gaze, “Alright, well, I’ll consider it and let you know then. Thanks.”
You nodded, but then your brows furrowed and you bolted from your seat, “Be right back!”
He saw you leave for the bathroom, lips parted in confusion. When you reappeared with a wet towel and a sheepish smile, he couldn’t stop but let out a snort as he understood what you’d been up to.
“Hey, don’t laugh! I know I’m a guest but you’re still sick.” You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance, but the amused smile on your lips was betraying you. “Your cheeks are so red, I can’t believe I just noticed.” Then, you proceeded to delicately cover his forehead with the cold towel, making sure you weren’t covering his eyes. You observed his features up close, and you noticed that he was struggling to stay awake, his long lashes fluttering with exhaustion.
 “You should lie down a bit.” 
Suguru was about to protest, but a yawn escaped him, resigning him to accept his fate and lie down for a while. “Just a minute, alright? Then I’ll walk you back home.” You nodded, knowing you had to go home very soon, the fact you'd stayed more than a few minutes at your boss's house already shocking to you.
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bonus –
Your eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, you were disoriented. The soft glow of the morning sun was beginning to filter through the curtains, but you weren’t on your bed. And as your senses slowly returned, you realized you were not alone.
Panic welled up inside of you as everything came rushing back to you when you took in the sight of Suguru sleeping beside you, his messy hair out of the ponytail he’d put them in a few hours ago, the string lost somewhere on the ground, while his limbs were sprawled out on the couch. His soft snore was making his chest rise and fall, his shirt rising up to his middle.
You didn’t have time for that. 
You bit your lip, searching for your phone in a hurry, making sure you weren’t making any noise in fear the man would somehow wake up, silently freaking out as the situation dawned on you. 
you where the fuck r u ???
satoru i’m home?? where r u
you .
satoru oh fuck DONT TELL ME oh my god
you  …
you why didnt you wake me up when you went home . wth satoru
satoru oh man that’s rich im telling shoko right now
you do it and i’ll kill you
satoru too late
satoru by the way i actually didn’t wake you up cuz sugu’s an insomniac never does whole nights so thx!<3
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AN : I SAID LET THEM COOKKKKK ok back to the topic. god. this was twice as long as the first piece of this series (and i actually kinda struggled with this one? i'll have you know i'm a master at writing angst but fluff isn't really my forte - if you can call this fluff). kinda sweet suguru here cuz he's sick and all (and i couldnt already rush things), but expect him back on his feet and SMUG as hell in the next pieces ;) sooo yeah, hope yall liked it! also, not proofread yet, i'll come around to fix mistakes but it's 1:40 am here and i have class tomorrow so goodnight
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lyingindecay · 18 days
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Desperately need more norm fics, I’d die for a norm smut or smut headcanon.
Gonna stick with headcanons for now, as I have a smut fic planned!
warnings/info: 18+ minors dni! mentions of overstim(?), gn!reader (no mentions specific body parts), dry humping (of course let me know if i missed anything!)
Let's hop right in!
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Norm is not a super enthusiastic individual, that is known. BUT! I feel like he can be enthusiastic when it comes to sex.
LOVES to cuddle up close to you. Usually that turns into him (or you) dry humping the other and whining.
Head game is strong.
Very enthusiastic about going down on you. Maybe he isn't too experienced at first, but he is very willing to learn when it comes to you.
Can and will sit between your legs for as long as you'd like. Usually, until you're a whining messing, begging for more than just his tongue.
While he is happy to have sex with you, most of the time it isn't a quickie or super quick/rough sex.
Likes for it to be drawn out. Especially in the beginning of your relationship. He wants to know you. Really know your body.
VERY attentive. Takes all the time he can to learn everything that gets you going and is mindful of the things you don't like.
Is going to love his partner regardless, but definitely does not mind at all if you are taller than him.
Would definitely use a height difference to his advantage.
I see him loving to be little spoon. While he doesn't mind holding you, he's stressed please hold him too.
I feel like my man has never received great head, so is sort of indifferent towards it. As soon as he learns how great it can feel though? BRO IS BEGGING. HE IS NOT ABOVE BEGGING.
Not huge on PDA but will hold your hand and give you sweet little kisses if you're just around the vault.
If you tease him, at all, anywhere but the bedroom he gets flustered and will tell you he is going to handle it (you) later.
This consists of going down on your until you're sensitive and a crying mess. Which in turn leaves you continually teasing Norm... Poor guy can't catch a break.
I have soooo many ideas about so many different things with Norm (and like most fallout 2024 characters tbh) but so little time... If there is anything specific y'all want touched on let me know! Thanks for the request!
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mrsjellymunson · 3 months
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Candyman, Candyman, Candyman
A Valentine’s Eddie Munson 5+1 fic
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x gn!reader, Eddie Munson x masc!reader, Eddie Munson x you
Summary: The Valentines 5+1 that nobody asked for (not even me 😆) Five times you get to give Eddie a kiss, and one time he kisses you back
W/C: ~2.1k
C/W: SFW, FLUFF. Kissing, a pet name. This is pure fluff, but my blog is generally 18+ so I’d prefer it if you were over 18. Reader wears lipgloss. Reader and Eddie are both over 18. Inspired by this supersweet fic by @hellfirenacht which I hope it’s okay for me to mention! I wasn’t planning to write for Valentine’s, but here we are, so thanks for the inspo. Also, I should probably mention at this point that I have no idea how candygrams actually work 🫣
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To anyone looking from the outside, you’re a preppy honours student, but you have a dark and curious side. You’re usually all pressed shirts, woven fabrics and tweed, but you’ve sometimes been known to wear those starched shirts pulled a little too tight, and you occasionally add a chain belt or some chunky boots.
You don’t tell anyone that on the weekends you like to experiment with heavy eyeliner and leather accessories. Or that you’ve been spending a lot of time recently staring at one fellow student in particular a little more than is absolutely polite.
So when you accidentally overhear a private conversation about a certain metalhead, and the opportunity for helping out with the school’s annual Valentine's fundraiser presents itself, you sign up as fast as you can.
Once a year the school allows students to organise cards and candygrams to be sent around for Valentine’s Day. It lasts the full school week, and the premise is fairly simple. The pink and red fliers have been floating around for weeks already, declaring:
MONDAY Send a lipstick kiss on a heart shaped card $1 TUESDAY Add a lollipop $2 WEDNESDAY Send a card and blow them a kiss! $3 THURSDAY Send a card, plus a kiss on the cheek! $4 FRIDAY For when you’re really serious! Send them a card, and a kiss on the lips! $5 Sign Up In The Cafeteria!
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Only the week before, Eddie Munson had been on a tirade in the lunchroom about the commercialisation of human affection, and the unrealistic expectations of binary, monogamous relationships.
You think perhaps he shouldn’t be one to talk, given the content of that conversation that you eavesdropped on involves Eddie's band mates knowing he’s never been kissed. They’ve pooled their resources and plan to surprise him during Valentine’s week.
Everything’s anonymously ordered, so no one knows who’s sending things. And you’ve finagled a position on the volunteering committee that allows you to choose which volunteers deliver which messages. Handy.
You’ve also invested in a new red-tinted, strawberry flavour lipgloss. It’s all going well so far. The only thing you can’t predict is whether or not Eddie Munson likes strawberries…
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Monday comes around quickly. Kisses on cards day. Quite a few have been ordered and there are lots to get delivered around the various classes, so there’s four of you from the fundraising committee delivering them to his class.
Thanks to your position on the committee, you know it’s your lipgloss on Eddie’s card. When you sidle past his desk to deliver it to him you watch him pull back slightly, his eyes open wide, shocked that anyone would send him anything. You guess he’s more used to pranks and jokes than any genuine affection, and it hurts your heart.
You want to give him a hint as to whose kiss is on his card. Trying to be as subtle as you can, and making sure he’s watching you, you catch his eye and bite the side of your lower lip ever so slightly. It puffs your lips out a bit and you see his attention is drawn to your mouth. Success?
There’s a general clamour in the class as recipients and observers alike wave their cards and ponder the potential senders, but Eddie’s quiet for once. He’s tentatively running his fingers over the edge of the card, not picking it up or pulling it towards him, treating it like it’s a potential threat. Just before your group leaves to attend another class, you see him subtly runs his fingertips over the shiny stain.
You don’t know it but later, when he’s alone, he brings the card up to his face to get a closer look at that lipgloss kiss, and he swears he can smell strawberries…
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Tuesday means lollipop day. You and your fellow volunteers have more cards to deliver, this time accompanied by little heart shaped candies on sticks. Again, quite a few get delivered, and again, you make sure you’ve got Eddie’s.
As you enter his classroom for the second day in a row, your face is coy and you give him a little smirk. You make your way around the class, distributing cards and candies.
To Eddie’s ongoing surprise, you stop in front of his desk again. As you hand Eddie his card, there are a couple of whoops and hollers from his friends behind him. It’s not part of the deal, but you can’t resist, and before you pass Eddie’s candy to him you press one flat side of the lollipop to your lips, handing it over quickly afterwards, saying, “Enjoy your candy, Eddie.”
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Wednesday - blow a kiss day. There’s fewer orders for this service, so only two of you today. You blow a couple of short kisses to others in the room, making it quick and perfunctory.
Again, Eddie’s shocked when you stop in front of his desk, seeming to look to each side of him in an attempt to work out whether you’ve really chosen him again. You pass him his third card, and when you blow Eddie his kiss, it’s slow and seductive, your lips pursing and smacking against your fingers, and you blow across them long and slow, making sure your breath reaches his face.
His classmates erupt, and Eddie’s certain he smells strawberries again…
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Thursday. Kiss on the cheek day.
There are fewer orders today, and you're the only volunteer delivering to Eddie’s class. It’s a little awkward and you feel very ‘on show’, but as soon as you see Eddie is in class your desire to put your plan into action overrides any awkwardness.
You give one girl a peck on the cheek, she’s cute and blushes before saying a quiet, “Thank you.”
A jock on the other side of the room is next. He’s less gallant and tries to turn his head at the last moment, but you’re wise to such tricks and he doesn’t get the lip contact he wants, earning you a scowl from him and a round of applause from his cronies.
You can see Eddie’s friends almost vibrating with excitement as you turn and step towards him.
His cheeks flush and he squirms as he realises you’re stopping next to his desk. Again.
You try to reassure him, and say quietly, so almost no one else can hear, “Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll be gentle with you.”
You bend at the waist, puckering your lips and slowly bringing them to his soft, milky white skin. You plant a slow, strawberry-scented peck to the side of his face, leaving a shimmering red stain just next to where you know your favourite dimple resides.
He turns almost the colour of your lipgloss, and the cheers of his classmates serenade you as you smile to yourself and leave the class for another day.
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Friday - kiss day!
You’re thrilled that you’ve managed to wrangle everything so that you get to do a ‘five dollar’ delivery with Eddie. Your planning couldn’t have gone better.
You’re more excited than you would ever admit, a heat collecting in your belly as you try to walk as calmly as you can to his classroom.
He’s the only recipient today, making this a really big deal in front of the entire class.
There’s a couple of whistles and yelps as you enter, some of his classmates clearly aware of what’s to come.
You decide to tease the rest of the class a little, walking around the desks for effect, as everyone’s wondering who it’s going to be.
Eventually, you stop in front of Eddie’s desk. His friends are yelping the loudest, but the whole class is emitting a low chorus of ‘oooooooh’s.
Eddie holds his hands up, palms out in front of him, and, giving you - and, you suspect, him - an out, he mumbles quietly,
“Whoa. You know you don’t have to do this, right?”
He starts stuttering something about the patriarchy and antiquated societal notions of romantic expectations and subservience, but you’re barely listening, your concentration fully focused on his lips, practically salivating at the thought of finally getting close to those delicious, plump, pink pillows.
You give him what you hope is a reassuring and soft smile as you clasp your hands behind your back and begin to lean forwards.
Eddie leans back as you move. It must look comical to the outside observers as you lean in, eyes closed and lip pursed, as he moves backwards at the same rate, eyes as wide as saucers and doing a great impersonation of a rabbit in headlights.
Eventually, his back against his chair and his chin pulled down as far as it will go, he has nowhere left to run.
You keep leaning forward, the fronts of your thighs connecting with his desk helping to stabilise you.
Feeling your nose gently bump his, you turn your head almost imperceptibly and continue forwards, allowing them to slide past each other.
Your lips finally connect.
A tiny amount at first, barely touching, you feel your lower lip press against his, and then your upper.
His mouth is warm, his lips velvety and soft, not chapped and rough like some others.
It feels so good.
You press forwards a little more, connecting more of your flesh with his.
The whoops, hollers and whistles from the classmates fade from your hearing. You do however hear a tiny whimper from the boy in front of you, and you don’t know it but he’s closed his eyes.
You stay like this for a moment, you enjoying the sensation you’ve been dreaming about for weeks, Eddie sitting stiffly in front of you.
But then, with a soft moan that only you can hear, you feel Eddie’s lips relax and purse, and suddenly he’s kissing you back, gently and subtly, your lips moving in harmony, hot breaths mingling and surrounding you in a warm cloud.
After what feels like a delicious eternity, you hear the teacher loudly clearing their throat behind you, and you realise your time is more than up.
Although it’s probably only been about five seconds, it feels like it was long enough for your whole world to tip on its axis and stop spinning.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss and slowly stand back up, rolling your lower lip inwards a little and feeling your cheeks, and other areas, heating.
Behind him, Eddie gets slapped on the back by Jeff and Dougie, and Gareth is clapping loudly and shouting affirmations.
The room has erupted into a clamouring, yelling mess of applause, but neither you nor Eddie are paying much attention.
His lips roll inwards too, and the very tip of his pink tongue peeps out as if to taste you.
He gifts you an incredulous half smile, that dimple you love so much almost making an appearance.
You back away, bashfully, spinning on your heel before you turn back, almost forgetting the final part of your job, and add,
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie.”
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It’s the end of the week, and you’re in the parking lot after school. You’re standing with a gaggle of other volunteers, laughing, giggling, discussing how well the fundraising has gone, exchanging horror stories of some really bad kisses, and one person even trying to shove their tongue in.
Eddie waits until you’re on your own, heading to your car.
He steps beside you just as you reach your door.
“Hey, Candy.”
You turn, leaning back against your car, and you can’t help but smirk at the cheesy nickname.
“Hey, Eddie. Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”
“Uh, yeah. I did, actually. Thanks to a certain someone. I mean, I know you can’t tell me who sent my gifts, kisser-client confidentiality and all that. But, I just wanted to say thanks.”
Your belly flips. He continues, waving a hand nonchalantly,
“You know, for all your hard work. With the fundraising, I mean.”
“Oh right, of course.”
For a moment you’re disheartened. You thought he might mean something else.
But then he steps closer, into your personal space, one of his large boots slotting between your pumps.
“I’d like to know if I could, uh, make another donation? How many kisses can I get for, say, twenty dollars?”
His warm, broad hands come up to ever so gently cup your cheeks, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones and his eyes flitting between your eyes and your mouth.
Your breathing stops as his face moves towards yours.
He pauses, and looks into your eyes one more time, as if waiting for your permission. When you hold his gaze and smile slightly, he moves his mouth until it’s over yours, slowly, gently connecting your lips again. It’s soft, sweet, delicious.
Unexpectedly, you feel the tip of his tongue gently skimming across your glossed lips, but you willingly part them to allow him access.
His tongue pushes past your lips and enters your mouth, slow, tentative, gentle. You hear him moan slightly again, and feel the vibrations against your lips.
Your tongue comes to meet his, your lips and tongues sliding comfortably and dancing together. It’s in the oh-so-romantic situation of the parking lot, but neither of you care.
You reach to grab at his belt loops, pulling his hips flush against yours, just as he breaks the kiss and looks at you, smiling. His lips are glossy and glittering with your lipgloss, and you both smell of strawberries.
You like it.
Breathily, you smile at him, as your arms come up to hook around the back of his neck, and say, just before he leans down for another kiss,
“For you, Eddie? There's no charge…”
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Thank you so much for reading!
Please reblog if you enjoyed this.
A/N & disclaimer: I don't agree that peer or societal pressure should be used to coerce or force anyone into doing anything they don’t want to do. And absolutely no one should have their first (or indeed any) kiss forced upon them in public. But this idea burrowed into my brain and I had to run with it. This is fiction - I cannot stress that enough - and if anyone demands you do anything like this with them, in public or private, without your full and ongoing consent you can and absolutely should refuse.
Also, I have an ‘Everything Taglist’ now, so if you’d like to be on it to see more stuff by me let me know!
Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician
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“don’t fill your void with me”
“Свою пустоту мною не заполняй”
Pairings: Villain!The Winter Solider!Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: this takes place in an alternative universe where Hydra took over the world and the winter soldier killed all Avengers and he became the leader of Hydra and he’s controlling the whole world. He saw you one day and he determined you were his and he made sure of that. making you live very comfortably as his “favorite” mistress and he turns very very soft with you.
Warnings: heavy smut, some fluff (if u squint), villain bucky turns sweet, oral (f receiving), jealousy, dark themes, dark!bucky to soft!bucky, dom bucky, lots of praise + lots of praise in Russian.
This was inspired by Яд by Erika Lundmoen
please read my author note it’s very important!
AU/N: this is only part one and still working on part two. thought I’d make this only one part but it was too long I had to cut it into two parts. I need to remind you that English is not my first language so excuse any misspelling or mispronunciation of any words or any grammatical mistakes lol. Hope you enjoy this dark fantasy I had of Bucky as I was wondering how he would be still a villain. Also, this was heavily inspired by ‘Yad’ (Яд) by Erika Lundmoen, I love this song so much and it always reminds me of Bucky in his Winter solider era. Enjoy loves xx
PART 1.
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You sighed before swallowing that last sip of the red wine glass that the air hostess brought you. This was already your 3rd glass. You looked through the window to the dark clouds and the night sky as you kept thinking and wondering how you get here in the first place. It was somewhat a normal Friday late afternoon, you were getting ready for the evening, and your –rich new– friends have prepared for you. They were setting you up with a blind date, they said it’s a very handsome guy who's an heir to a big industrial company. You weren’t amused that much as none of them know your secret or your secret lover.
Then you remembered him, your secret mysterious lover, who’s the reason you’re living this lavish rich lifestyle. You remembered six years ago, on the news, you were watching Captain America getting brutally killed by none other than The Winter Soldier himself. You watched the fall of this new organization of superheroes and agents called “The Avengers” and the new world order seeing light under the hands of The Winter Soldier. Hydra ruled and controlled every country in the world, including the USA. It was three years ago when you saw on the news that every leader and all the rulers of Hydra were killed and it was an inside job. The Winter Solider rebelled and killed every single one of them and he, alone, became the new Hydra leader, recruiting super soldiers and making the biggest army of super soldiers known to man.
A year ago, you were just a normal waitress girl, in a hotel restaurant, minding your own business and working just to make ends meet. You weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth and your upbringing was very normal and somewhat poor. Until one day your boss came and told you there will be a very important diplomatic meeting that’s happening in the hotel and he assigned you and two of your coworkers to wait on the leaders and diplomats. On this same very evening, you saw him for the first time. The Winter Solider. Bucky Barnes. Captain America’s best friend who was brainwashed by Hydra and was under control for decades. He was so charismatic, terrifying, very handsome, and absolutely dangerous. Just like a fallen angel, just like Lucifer himself. You were drawn to him at first glance until he noticed you and made eye contact with you. Your heart skipped a beat then, there was a connection between you both, you were certain of this as at first glance, you saw his face change emotion and he was staring at you.
-
“барышня, only 5 minutes till landing” You were brought back to reality from that memory train you were on by the sound of the bodyguard on your left. you nodded to him with a smile and fastened your seat belt around your hips.
Looking back at your past now made you wonder if you actually deserve to live this life or not, to go everywhere with a private plane like the one you’re in now. To live in the finest, most luxurious apartment in Brooklyn, to have rich friends and live a rich lifestyle, to attend galas and be the face of many luxury brands, all because of him, all because he liked you the first time he saw you, all because he promised you to make all your wishes and dreams come true only if you became his, all because he wanted his “favorite one” to be separate from the other women and to live like a princess whose all her dreams are granted.
In fact, you didn’t ask for any of this at all, but you loved the idea that he made all of this for you just because he thinks you’re worthy of it. In the end, you were “his favorite”.
The plane landed in the small very private airport near his mansion in Russia. you had your fur coat covering you. At least, you were dressed very fancy for the ball you were going to with your friends to meet your blind date. As you were about to leave your apartment, you were met by Bucky’s super soldiers' bodyguards at the front door of your apartment, telling you that The King wants you now. So you didn’t argue, you nodded and just took your bag and phone and left with them. This was your deal with him, him giving you whatever you want and desire in life, and you being available and there whenever he calls for you or want you. He has the plane ready for you and super soldiers protecting you and going everywhere with you, in case something goes wrong.
The guards guided you into the mansion and into Bucky’s suite which took up the whole second floor of the mansion. You walked with them till you arrived in front of the door of his office then they left you there alone. You knocked slightly.
“входить” his voice was deep and calm, you just felt butterflies in your stomach as you were very anxious and excited to see him, it’s been nearly a month since your last meeting with him and you missed him dearly. You opened the door and entered and as soon as you closed it behind you, he looked up from the pile of papers in front of him, his hair was perfectly combed, and he grew his beard, which was a very new look on him but also a very sexy one. He grinned widely as soon as his eyes met yours. “ahhh моя кукла”. he stood up from behind his desk and you walked closer to him and he moved closer to you too.
He kissed you very deeply and passionately before hugging you tightly, you hugged him back and buried your face in his neck. “Missed you so much, кукла” he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck softly.
“Missed you too, James” you smiled softly and he started to rub your back slightly.
You didn’t actually know how to address him, didn’t know if you should call him sir, king, soldier, Bucky, or James. You never actually asked, but you found James to be just perfect as you felt weirded out to call him sir or king. ‘James’ was good enough based on the relationship you both had, you were not actually lovers or boyfriend and girlfriend to be intimate and call him Bucky and yet you both weren’t platonic or had a strict respectful relationship to call him sir. so ‘James’ did the job perfectly.
At least, he didn’t complain about whatever you call him.
He removed your fur coat slowly and looked at your body and your fancy dress. “You look so beautiful,” he held your hand and spun you around to take a good look at the dress. It was a tall tight dress that hugs your curves perfectly with a very long slit on the left that shows your whole left leg from your upper thigh to your left foot. It was burgundy colored with a black sheer silk attached to it that gives the dress a matte look under lights. “did you get all dolled up for me?” he smirked at you when his eyes left your body and met your eyes.
“Well, umm-,” he leaned back on his office desk and sat on its edge and pulled you to him slowly “you didn’t give me any heads up that we were supposed to meet so I was actually going to a ball party with a bunch of friends” you looked down to your hands playing with his black suit’s blazer, trying to hide the truth that you were going on a blind date.
The thing you didn’t know about Bucky is that he is very good at reading body language and the second you broke eye contact and said that, he knew you were hiding something and that’s not the truth. But he didn’t want to confront you yet about it so he took it slowly. “Oh really?” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as your chests now touching and he has a perfect view of your boobs as it’s pushed up from the tight dress. “what kind of a ball party?” he moved his head and start kissing your neck.
“A normal one.” you bit your lower lip as his kisses now moved down to your shoulders and collarbone.
“normal one? what kind of a ball is that exactly?” he chuckled while his right hand moved down slightly and he started rubbing your left butt cheek as his kisses never stopped and his lips moved down to your chest, leaving more kisses.
“Just a normal ball party, James” you sighed, feeling more frustrated as you are getting more turned on by his touching and kisses and you feel yourself getting wetter, you can’t stand wearing your panties anymore, it’s getting more uncomfortable as you are soaked down there.
“A normal ball party where rich people gather around for whatever reason, stuffing their faces with crab cakes and drinking champagne until they’re passed out,” you said with an annoyed tone as you can’t just stand the teasing anymore.
The relationship you had with Bucky was just casual sex every now and then unless that was what you thought it was until 8 months ago, he started to show more feelings, starting saying “I miss you”, “I want you”, “you are beautiful”, “my girl”, “my favorite girl”, “my doll”, “baby girl”, but never the word “love”. He started being more romantic. Taking you on dates, of course, they were secret private dates as he was a known criminal and he shouldn’t be seen in public at all but with his power and money, he can rent or buy any restaurant or place in the world just so you both could enjoy your time and dates together.
He was very gentle with you, protecting you, getting you a big apartment in Brooklyn which was like 3 blocks away from his childhood home, he didn’t mention that at all but you knew it when you went to the Captain America museum and explored the whole room dedicated to Sargent James Buchanan Barnes, Captain America’s best friend.
You learned a lot about him, actually about the old him. Now, he’s just the winter solider, the cold blooded murderer who killed all his superiors and killed the avengers and is now running the Hydra organization and having the biggest super soldiers army in the universe.
But at least, he had a soft spot for you.
He moved his hands to the back of your thighs and lift you up, your legs wrapped quickly around his waist, which was sort of a habit as he loved picking you up like this, like his small girl. he kept looking at you and murmuring I miss yous and you look so beautiful, against your lips while kissing you and walking towards his bedroom, there was only a wall between his office and his bedroom. he opened the door, and his room wasn’t unfamiliar to you but you were just amazed every time by how big and wide it is. The ceiling is so high up and the walls are filled with paintings and mirrors.
He put you on his king-sized bed and you just laid on your back, looking at him. He smirked at you and moved his hands down your dress and took off your panties, freeing your soaked cunt from the now-uncomfortable material. “So, it was just a normal ball party with normal rich friends, huh?” he held your left ankle and pulled it up, and rested it on his shoulder. you nodded and saw him undoing the straps of your heels and taking them off. “Are you sure about that, кукла?” he gave you a very intense look and at that moment you knew that he knows you were hiding something so keeping it hidden won’t do you any good. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” he rubbed your ankle and calf slowly, giving it a simple soft massage.
“I am not lying to you” Your tone was serious. “My friend, Emma, she set me up on a blind date with this guy,” you saw his facial expression get more tense and his hand tightened on your ankle a bit harder. “I mean, no one knows that I’m- umm, that we-… you know, together” Your tone was shaky as you started to get more anxious as his grip hardened on your ankle. “they just thought I’m single and wanted me to have a date so-..”
“So you decided to dress and doll up for a strange man, didn’t you?” he cut you off suddenly as you can see he started to get angry.
“No, they don’t know about us. No one knows. So I’m just playing the part. acting it. That’s it.” you said with a sad tone, breaking eye contact with him and looking up at the ceiling and huffing. this is truly what you felt like. Playing a part in Bucky’s world. Being nothing more than his sex doll and his mistress. You hate the fact that you wanted him and wanted to be with him forever and you just can’t handle living this lifestyle anymore. Yes, it’s a blessing but you didn’t want all of that, you didn’t ask for any of that. You just wanted him.
“Well, this dress is no good anymore. Can I tear it apart?” he put your left leg back again on the bed and pulled your other leg by the ankle and on his shoulder and removed your heels from this one too.
“Why isn’t it good anymore? I think it’s pretty.” you looked at him confused, not knowing what the dress has to do with anything.
“It is pretty but now, for me, it’s what you wore for another man’s eyes and not mine. I hate it now.” he pulled it up to your upper thighs and your legs are now bared to him.
“But what am I going to wear when I leave? Can’t just be wearing my fur coat. It’s freezing outside.” he chuckled darkly at your words and looked at you with a dark smirk on his face.
“As much as it would be so fucking hot of you to not wear anything except for a fur coat, I can get you any other dress that you want,” he grabbed the dress from its slit on your left thigh with his metal hand and ripped it open until the dress was fully ripped from the left side. “anyways, you’re staying for the whole weekend with me, I don’t want you wearing any clothes at all.” he moved up to meet your eyes and he pepper kissed your jawline. “and if you got cold, you can wear my clothes, my wardrobe is all yours, милая” he ripped and removed the dress from your body, leaving you fully naked underneath him.
you moaned slightly as his hands roamed your body, massaging and rubbing your boobs while his tongue is attacking your lips and mouth, kissing your hungrily. You opened your legs more for him, signaling to him where you wanted him the most. he removed himself from on top of you to get undressed. He removed all of his clothes and got on top of you again, kissing you passionately then starting to kiss you all over. Leaving marks and love bites all over your body, showing you who you truly belong.
“ты моя навсегда, куколка” his voice is raspy and deep, he moved his head down and kissed and sucked on your nipples, of course leaving marks and love bites on your boobs too. You were so needy for him and a part of you was glad that he was as much as needy for you as you are of him.
“James, please. I need you so bad. Please fuck me” you whined and opened your legs more for him. he pulled his head up and looked at you with nothing but pure lust in his now dark blue eyes.
“No, baby doll. No fucking. I missed you too much to just fuck you. I’m going to make love to you ‘cause you deserve this, honey. you’ve earned this.” he kissed your lips passionately but you were just startled, confused, and slightly shocked. You kept wondering why he would say such things and do such things. It’s the first time you ever see him being like this to you or talking like this to you. You were sick of these feelings you have for him and he was just toying around with them.
“You make love to someone you love, James. What we have isn’t love” You looked directly into his eyes with a concerned look on your face.
“Maybe you are right,” these words went straight to your heart and smashed it. You had a little hope he would correct you and tell you he loves you. “But tonight, just pretend that we’re in love. act it like you just said you’re acting it and playing a part.” you wondered if toying with your feelings like this was his way to punish you for what you just said about playing a part in your new life. “make me make love to you. make me show you how you’re supposed to be loved. Or at least humor me, принцесса” his mouth never left your face or your body. He couldn’t stop kissing you and leaving marks everywhere on your neck and body. You weren’t sure what his intentions were by what he just said. A little part of you hoped he meant what he was saying.
You felt his cock twitch against your thigh and felt him leaking. You couldn’t hold it any longer and you lift your hips up to meet his. Signaling to him that you need him. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just let me take my time with you first. I missed you too much” He said between breaths and kisses as he’s now moving down, kissing and leaving love bites all over your belly. “missed this belly,” he kissed your belly button. “missed my little ladies,” he grabbed your boobs with his hands as his mouth kept going down to your lower belly.
“but I missed this pretty girl the most.” you could feel his hot breath against your soaked cunt now, gushing more at the new nickname he gave to your pussy. he groaned when he saw you gushing and your slick is wetting the bed underneath you, making a mess everywhere. he looked up at you and you locked eyes with him while he slowly licked a long stripe between your folds, never breaking eye contact. This sight alone had you crying out and shutting your eyes while throwing your head back on the pillows.
Bucky kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud and sucking on it. He was really taking his time, he wasn’t fast or hard. He was simply just eating you out, slowly, gently, like he actually wants to taste you. You were so needy that you wanted more than that. You started pushing your hips more into his face and grinding slowly. “Greedy aren’t we, my little girl?” He got up and wiped his chain from your glistening slick with the back of his hand.
He got on top of you again and pressed his lips against yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you opened your mouth happily for him, licking his tongue and tasting more of yourself. “Do you know what do you taste like?” he broke the kiss but his lips were right above yours. you shook your head slightly and bit your lips. “Like fucking peaches.” he pushed his tongue into your mouth again, kissing and licking it all over. “You taste like fucking peaches, especially your pussy.” you moaned into his mouth “You’re driving me insane, принцесса. Guess peaches are my new favorite fruit”.
He buried his face in your neck, attacking the sensitive skin again with kisses, especially that sweet spot that gets you all turned on and horny. As if you’re not going to lose your mind already from how horny you are. You could feel his tip pushing slightly on your clit and you were just a moaning mess at this point. “Ready for me, love?” he lifted his head and rested his head on your forehead, locking eyes with you.
“Always, Bucky” you whispered, his whole expression changed. his eyes widened a bit at the sound of his name slipping out of your mouth like honey. He hadn’t heard this name in so long, and you say it like this had his heart beating faster, if he wasn’t in love with you before, he believes now he is.
………………………………………………………………..
PART TWO
870 notes · View notes
lonely-cowboy · 3 months
Note
hi!! how are you? i just wanted to tell you that i am obsessed with your writings omg :’((( i can’t even put into words how happy i am to find your account, the way you write connor is just <33
i was wondering if it’s okay to request something where connor is being protective over fem!reader?maybe some hurt/comfort with fluff in the end <3 I don’t have a specific scenario in my head, so it’s totally up to you, and i would love anything you decide to write for this request!!! also, you are totally free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired enough by this request, it’s absolutely okay! ♡
thank you! have an amazing day and please sorry for my english, it’s not my first language
ugh thank you my love this is so sweet to hear!! i'm so sorry it took me so long to post, midterms have not been fun my friends. i fear this is not my best work, but i hope you can still enjoy our silly android boy <3 you have an amazing day too!!
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helping hand
pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader
summary: connor comes to help you when you don't need him. again.
word count: 1.6k
warnings: graphic(?) violence (connor shoots a guy oops)
author's note: i write way too many first kisses and this is no exception. prepare for silly goofy domestic married fluff in the future bc that's what i live for
masterlist ⟡ requests
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You could’ve handled it all perfectly fine on your own. You didn’t need Connor’s help, you didn’t want Connor’s help. You were entirely capable of taking down a runaway vigilante on your own.
Sure, maybe it was stupid of you to run off on your own to the crook’s last known location the second the call was made. But he had been only three blocks away from you. What were you supposed to do, wait for backup? Of course not. You had the opportunity to catch a known criminal, so you took the risk. It was all part of the job.
You found yourself at an empty construction site with your gun drawn and pointed at the runaway criminal. You inched closer to your target– some crazy, murderous, anti-android protestor, there were a lot of those these days– slowly drawing your cuffs. You reached forward to restrain his wrists, fingertips brushing against his skin.
And then you were on the ground. You had been practically tackled, your temple striking the rocky earth hard enough that it looked like the world was spinning.
You sat up uneasily as you tried to orient yourself. Who in the world would have shoved you like that? The only indicator was your attacker’s quick “Sorry, Detective.”
You grunted in frustration as your vision cleared, focusing on the one person you did not want to see: Connor.
In all the time it took you to readjust, Connor had taken the vigilante to the ground. He stood overtop the criminal who groaned between crazed laughter. Connor’s foot pressed firmly into the criminal’s chest, a gun– that certainly did not belong to the android– pointed directly at the laughing man’s face.
You moved slowly from the ground, holding your surely bruised side. Your gaze was locked on Connor’s trigger finger, anxiously anticipating gunfire. You feared what it could mean if Connor pulled the trigger. 
“Connor,” you warned quietly, your voice steadier than expected. 
As you approached, you noticed the twitch of his finger. His LED was cycling through every color imaginable, his brows furrowing and unfurrowing as he held the criminal’s gaze.
“Never even think about touching her again,” Connor spit, his voice so cold that it frightened even you.
The pinned criminal only laughed, an ugly wheezing sound as Connor’s foot dug deeper into his chest. “An android in love, huh? Never thought I’d see–”
Connor’s foot rose quickly, stomping hard on the crook’s face until he was knocked out cold. From the impassive look on Connor’s face, you could tell he was practically seething. But that didn’t matter. Now was not the time to comfort him because you were equally as angry. 
With an agitated huff, you shoved Connor by the shoulders as hard as possible. He barely moved at all, only adding fuel to your fire.
It was then that Connor seemed to snap out of his daze and remember you were there. He turned to you abruptly and discarded the gun, his hands finding their place on your biceps with a firm grip. His eyes immediately scanned over your frame, analyzing you for any damage. The only damage he found was what he had done.
The crease between his brows returned as he reached up to touch your throbbing temple. When he pulled his hand back, his elegant fingers were tipped with your blood.
“Did he do this?” Connor questioned, an edge of doubt in his voice.
“No, Connor,” you snapped, shaking off his hands. “You did this! And it wouldn’t have happened if you had just let me do my job for once!”
His LED blinked a steady red. Funny how it matched the blood on your temple.
“Detective, I was only trying to help,” he reasoned feebly.
“I don’t need your fucking help, Connor! I was handling this just fine on my own! And then here you come to save the day yet again, all knight in shining armor! Acting like I’m your damsel in distress, in need of saving!”
“Did you know he was armed?” Connor asked dismissively, quizzically cocking his head in a way that usually enamored you but only seemed to irritate you now. 
You opened your mouth to retort, but nothing came out as you processed Connor’s words. Armed? No, you hadn’t known he was armed. But if you admitted that then you would’ve looked stupid, like you needed Connor’s help. Like you were some damsel in distress.
When you didn’t answer, Connor gestured to his forgotten gun. “That was his. He was preparing to shoot you.”
“I could’ve easily disarmed him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms arrogantly. “I’m a trained professional.”
“The probability of success was 29%,” Connor stated matter-of-factually. “A majority of outcomes would have resulted in your death, Detective. I couldn’t take that risk.”
“Then maybe you’re not cut out for this job,” you growled. “This job is all about taking risks, Connor. I knew that when I signed up, and you should too.”
Your harsh tone made Connor pause, though he was quick to recover. He was determined for you to understand. 
“If I can prevent your death, then I will. I won’t let your pride stop me,” he said.
It was your turn to pause, lips pursing into a thin line at the reality of Connor’s words. You knew he was right. He was right, he was right, he was right. But you refused to acknowledge that. 
When you opened your mouth to speak, nothing came out besides a yelp.
So quickly you could barely process what happened, Connor’s grip on your arms tightened as he spun you around. One arm wrapped around your shoulders to pull you into his chest protectively while his other hand moved to your holstered gun.
A single shot was fired. And an accurate shot, you guessed, by the sound of a slumping body.
Peeking past Connor, you found the body of your runaway criminal, a bullethole pierced right through his skull. You made note of the gun beside his fallen body, the same gun Connor had carelessly discarded.
You felt Connor return your gun to its holster before his hand moved to your chin. He turned your attention away from the dead body, forcing you to focus on him instead.  
“I know you’re capable, Detective,” Connor murmured, his voice full of a fondness you hadn’t noticed before. “But that doesn't mean I can’t help. I feel better knowing you’re safe than assuming you are.”
You swallowed hard as you held Connor’s steady gaze. His free hand moved to brush your aching temple. His touch was so gentle you could barely feel it as he wiped away the blood with a frown.
“I only wanted to keep you safe,” Connor explained, his voice holding a tinge of– was that regret? “And I only managed to hurt you myself. Maybe you’re right, Detective. You don’t need me. I’m sorry.”
Your hand moved to tug Connor’s hand away from your temple, holding him in your warm grip. His thumb rubbed against your knuckles soothingly as if it was second nature to him.
“I do. I do need you,” you insisted suddenly, surprising even yourself. One minute, you’re practically yelling at Connor for helping. The next, you’re reassuring him that you’ll always need him. You were confusing even yourself, you couldn’t imagine how confused Connor, the poor android. “I… I do. But… not all the time.”
Again, that crease between Connor’s brows returned, your lips forming a smile at the sight.
“I don’t appreciate you enough,” you continued with a defeated sigh. “I do need you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d already be dead, you’re right. You’ve saved me twice today. But that doesn’t mean I need you to swoop in and save me every single time. I can still handle myself.”
“I know… I know…,” Connor whispered, his eyes unfocused as if lost in thought.
You let a beat of silence pass, watching Connor expectantly. There was something he wanted to say, it was on the tip of his tongue. So you patiently waited until he found the words.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
An android in love.
The criminal’s words replayed in your mind as they suddenly came back to you. At the time, you hadn’t completely processed what he said, your anger outweighing any thoughts of reason.
An android in love.
“Was he… was he right?” you asked after a beat to which Connor tilted his head with a puzzled look. Damn him for not being able to read your mind and immediately know what you were struggling to say. “The guy. What he said… He said that you…”
“Are in love,” Connor finished, his tone flat and conveying not a single sense of love.
“Yeah…,” you shrugged.
“If love can be defined by a desire to keep you safe, then yes, I would say I’m in love with you.”
With you.
With you.
He was in love with you.
You couldn’t hide your wide grin, ignoring the warmth that had suddenly spread to your cheeks. Seeing your grin, the corners of Connor’s lips quirked into a small smile too. Your faces naturally moved closer together until your noses were brushing, the warmth of each other’s breath against your lips.
Connor leaned closer. Closer, closer…
He was going to kiss you, and you were going to ruin it.
“You know,” you interrupted, pulling back no more than an inch. But it was enough to make Connor frown. “I’d rather not kiss next to the dead guy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as Connor’s smile returned, an affection glint in his eyes. His hand found yours, pulling you away from the scene.
“Backup is on the way,” he said. “They can handle this on their own.”
With his hand in yours, Connor led you away. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. It was a reassurance. A sign that you were safe with him, that he would do whatever it took to protect you. You returned his firm squeeze. Because you would do the same for him. 
285 notes · View notes
ghostandsoap · 1 year
Text
The Best of the Best
John Price x Fem! Reader
Tags: Explosion. Fire. Building burning down. Typical Soap behavior. Protective Ghost. Price is a simp.
A/N: A huge thank you to @venomous-ragno​ who contributed to assisting me in working out the details of this fic! I appreciate you!
Word Count: 4.0k
“As long as it’s from you, then I’d definitely say so.”
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The best of the best. 
That’s how Captain Price described you since the moment that he could really see what you were made of. He found you beyond impressive, one of the best soldiers to ever cross his path. Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses – their areas that they excelled in and their areas that they could always improve. 
When it came to you, Price had never seen you not completely dominate a skill. He knew you were quick on your feet and even quicker in your head. No one could hack, track, shoot, and kill quite like you.
You were, in Price’s opinion, the absolute best of the best.
Everybody knew your reputation. Not many people teased you or challenged your abilities. The ones who had were embarrassingly proven wrong, and it was never a mistake that was made twice. It was a well known fact how much Price admired you. And maybe, just maybe, he favorited you just a bit. Where there was Price, you were there too.
That was common knowledge.
But his assessment of you didn’t come just from your tactical skill. He found you to be unmatched in a lot of ways that weren’t related to your job at all. You knew you were one of his better soldiers, yet you never let it get to your head. You were kind to others and always willing to lend a helping hand. You looked out for your friends and colleagues, and underneath a hard exterior – you were all heart.  
He trusted you to be obedient. He never doubted that you wouldn’t give your all each and every time you had a job to do. You were a natural leader, but also a trustworthy follower. Not many people could be both.
Price was drawn to you, he would admit. He liked just about everything about you, except maybe your smart mouth – that was the only thing that ever got you into trouble. He enjoyed having conversations with you – ones that were work related or not. He had shared a drink with you a time or two, and he found you to be pleasant company. He had this fuzzy feeling in his chest whenever the two of you would take watch together, a feeling that wasn’t the most familiar to him. The time he spent with you outside of a mission or job was the time he valued the most. 
Before he knew it, he realized that he liked you just a little more than he probably should’ve.
He had offered to buy you dinner here and there – all of his attempts being shot down by your humble modesty and fear of breaking one of his most important rules. 
Avoid romance within Force 141.
It seemed that his rantings about “avoiding romantic interpersonal relationships within the force” had gotten to you. He shouldn’t have been surprised. You looked up to him, and you were his most loyal soldier. Of course you weren’t going to break one of his rules…even if he was the one who was asking you to break it. 
It took him some time to realize that he was asking a lot of you. He understood that it probably wasn’t the most comfortable situation that he had put you in. 
Price wasn’t too discouraged though. He knew there was something between the two of you. A hot ember that was just begging for some fuel to really roar into a ball of flames. Over time, there had been small moments that had been causing that spark to grow at a painfully slow pace. 
He was buttering you up in the most sincere way for the right moment. The lingering stares, the way his hand “accidentally” brushed yours when he passed you by, the compliments he made that brought a blushing heat to your face. These were all mini victories that gradually softened you up to him. 
Then, of course, there was that…one incident.
Price had felt terrible after it happened. The look on your face had immediately let him know that he had totally pushed you too far, too quickly. It had been a simple kiss. Not one that was heated or lustful. It was passionate, sure – but it was the most tender, romantic kiss that John Price had ever had the pleasure of receiving. 
In his defense, he hadn’t forced you to kiss him. It had been a mutual thing, so there couldn’t be any claims of “he kissed first” or “she kissed first.” It was genuinely one of those “the moment was right” kind of situations. It had been after a long mission, one that had lasted a few days – and those few days had been stressful torture. It was touch-and-go the whole time, and the team had been very nervous that it wouldn’t get done.  
You and Price had been attached at the hip for the duration of that particular mission, working together to get the job completed. The tension had been building up and stewing for days. There was so much emotion and so much riding on this job that it was unavoidable. When the mission did turn out in the team’s favor, and the two of you had your first moment alone – both of you gave into your desires.  
The kiss had lasted only a few seconds, much shorter than Price would’ve liked. But when he pulled away and saw the expression on your face, he knew that it had been way too soon.  
He didn’t see you for about a week after that. The days that passed consisted of you dodging him and avoiding him. It wasn’t until the next morning briefing that he took his chance to corner you, and the two of you worked it out enough to where you could go back to the way you were before.
Price had been relieved. He didn’t want to lose you as a friend or as a colleague. He needed you around – for multiple reasons. 
He made a solemn swear to himself that he wouldn’t push it anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you off to the point where you really didn’t want anything to do with him. After all, Price was a patient man.
And he had no problem waiting for what he wanted.
***
The mission had been doomed from the start. 
There were too many outside factors that were a part of it that were playing against you. This mission was going to be more work and effort than it was worth (most of them were), despite its seemingly easy end goal.  
Clear the building. Find and make your way into the server room. Obtain and transfer the files to your drive to deliver back to the general. It seemed straightforward, and it seemed like something that could be done with no issues. 
However, there were two very crucial catches to this. 
This job was a little bit different from past missions. Hacking and data transfers were one of your specialties. Speed and accuracy were your strong suits, and it made the most sense to put you at the head of this task. In some ways, the success of this mission fell on you. 
The other kicker was that this specific group of terrorists was much more prepared than you originally gave them credit for. It shouldn’t have been a shock that the whole building was bugged. They knew that the force had been on their tails for a while, so it really only made sense that they made the proper measures in place to wipe their trace clean when the time was right. 
The terrorist group knew that you were there the moment the Force’s boots hit the back doorway. The goal of the mission was suddenly stricken by the enemy of time. A countdown to the demise of the server room had begun the moment that you thought you were in the homestretch. 
The building had been eerily silent. There wasn’t another person (outside of 141) in sight. That was your main indicator that something wasn’t right. If this place was guarding the top secret information, then it should’ve been littered with folks to protect it. As far as you could see, this place was abandoned and left for dead. 
Soap had been the first to make a comment on how this all seemed too convenient. His suspicions weren’t unreasonable, considering the pit of nausea that had opened in your stomach the moment that you realized the team was truly alone. 
Ghost was rigid, scanning every single door, out of place floor tile, and desolate corner. He had gone stoically silent, prepared for the bottom to fall out at any moment. Price and Gaz didn’t stray far. They were far too uneasy to let the group get separated. 
You weren’t rushed as you navigated the halls of the building, carefully working your way to the upper floors where the server room was located. The stairwells were echo chambers of every single sound, another reminder that no one was around. Five pairs of heavy footsteps trudged up each flight of stairs, your nerves growing more and more worn with each step.
You reached the correct floor, entering the hallway from the stairwell with goosebumps erupting all over your skin. Something in your gut didn’t feel right. Just as you were about to suggest to Price that 141 take a different approach, there was a loud, unmistakable noise.
The sound of the explosion and the roar of fire had caused an annoying ringing noise in everyone’s ears, and had sent everybody into overdrive. The entire building shook and rattled from the initial impact, a rush of black smoke billowing from the doorway of the room. The room had self-destructed, which was a no doubt sign that the enemy group had known you’d be coming. 
Flames engulfed the room immediately and wasted no time spreading down the hall with the final goal of destroying every square inch of the place. The heat that spread from the room was indescribable. A temperature so intense that no one in their right mind would even attempt to go through it.
The mission was simultaneously aborted, considering that there wasn’t even a mission to complete now. The only objective now was for Task Force 141 to get out alive without being trapped, burned, or crushed to death. It was a mad scramble to escape the fiery death trap, the heavy gear that all of you were carrying felt weightless from the adrenaline. 
The stairs that you had taken your time to climb were cleared in seconds, all of you using every ounce of energy and speed to get to safety. If one room was tricked, then there was no telling what the other parts of the building had been bugged with. 
It was all a blur in your mind. In reality, it had only taken about 60 seconds for the five of you to get out of the structure, but it had felt like an hour long endeavor. There was a point when 141 was safe enough to come to halt, located far off in the distance from the building that had never blown you all to smithereens. There wasn’t much that you could do other than report back to the General to explain the situation and watch the building go up in flames. 
The dread in your chest had morphed into something else. The sensation of knowing that not only had the data been destroyed, but the target enemies had likely been intelligent enough to make a backup to take it with them. The information was out there again, lost in the world to the point where it could literally be anywhere. 
This mission was back to square one. And you couldn’t help but feel responsible.
Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were kneeling in a halfway huddle, heaving with each breath in an attempt to regain control of their breathing. Price kept his eyes locked on you, watching the way that you were standing still – eyes fixed on the deteriorating building just in your view.
The sun was setting on the horizon, the sky’s hues of orange and purple nearly matching the embers and flames that were currently (and had already) destroyed the golden ticket of your mission. Months of work and weeks of preparation had been wasted on the fact that (admittedly) you had been outsmarted. 
The best of the best. 
That’s what Price had always said about you – that you were the best of the best. Your first mission as the leader, the person responsible for the success of the job and the wellbeing of your colleagues, had gone south faster than you could’ve ever imagined. 
For the first time in a very, VERY long time…
You had failed at something.
He knew you were in for a long night of overthinking this whole thing. A long night of questioning your skills and abilities. He knew you all too well. And he knew you would blame yourself for the rest of your life for this.  
Price took a few steps closer to you, resting his hand gently on your shoulder to announce his presence.
“Come on,” Price said in his most neutral yet sympathetic voice. “Let’s get out of here.” 
***
No one had seen you since returning to the safe house. 
Everyone had dispersed upon returning, taking the time to decompress and regain their composure.
Gaz and Soap had crashed nearly the moment that their bodies collapsed on opposite sides of the living space of the house. Soap didn’t even bother taking off his pack or boots, but Gaz at least made the time to get his gear off.
Ghost immediately went on watch, sitting at the window near the front door to keep an eye out for unwanted guests and intruders. Ghost never slept much. 
Price unpacked all of his belongings in his pack, noting the inventory of each item and what needed to be rearranged. It was busy work really, because he was preoccupied with thinking about you. In some ways, he felt responsible for this whole thing. 
He thought that he had done you a favor by letting you take the reins on this one. He knew it would be a good experience for you, and it was just another thing that Price would brag on you about. But he hadn’t expected it to go the way that it had. If he had known that it was going to blow up (literally) in your face then he never would’ve appointed this to you 
He supposed that really he felt responsible for how you were feeling about it.
Price was trying to give you space. He didn’t want to crowd you when he knew you were feeling lousy and down. But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea to let you stew in your own unnecessary guilt. 
He gave it some time, allowing at least the initial emotions to simmer down. He rearranged and organized his backpack about three or four times before he made the steps to find you. He had assumed that you were in the single bedroom to be alone, but when he checked only to find an empty, untouched bed, he began to panic.  
While he trusted you completely, there was the quick thought of you potentially going back by yourself to rummage through the remains of burned rubble for any kind of salvation to failure did cross his mind. That would’ve been stupid and reckless, but Price knew what sort of desperate things people would do just to prove that they hadn’t failed.
He stepped over Soap and Gaz in the living room, who were both sound asleep and snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Price knew that Ghost, who was the most aware of the five of you, would likely know where you were.
He approached the colossal man that was scanning the area outside, but was appreciative when Simon Riley’s mysterious eyes gave attention to him.
“Captain.” Ghost said both as a greeting and a question to his sudden approach. 
“Where is she?” Price posed to Ghost, who was always on the same page as him.
“Been keeping my eye on her. She’s outside,” Ghost motioned towards the pickup truck that was parked towards the side of the house. “Hasn’t said a word.” 
From where he stood, Price could just barely make out the image of your frame that was sitting on the lowered tailgate of the vehicle. Price let out a long sigh, unsure of what to do. Sometimes addressing the situation made it worse. It made the embarrassment and the disappointment feel unbearable. But other times, not addressing it set a foundation of discouragement that would build on itself. It could ruin your confidence inside and out.
“In my opinion…I think you should have a chat with her, Captain.” Ghost spoke again, as if he knew that Price were weighing his options.
“Think that would be more helpful than leaving her alone?” Price asked.
Beneath the infamous balaclava there was a silhouette of a smirk. It was a knowing expression that said it all.
“As long as it’s from you, then I’d definitely say so.” Ghost replied.
Price nodded with understanding. No sense in beating around the bush if it was that plainly clear. Without another word to Ghost, Price opened the front door and walked outside into the world. Darkness had painted the sky long ago, the night time hours were well upon the 141.
The air outside had a breeze to it. The weather was clear and the temperature was at least comfortable. He loved nights like this, but they meant nothing if you couldn’t enjoy them too. He stopped at the side of the tailgate, his eyes never leaving you. 
He noted your lowered head and slumped shoulders, the anxious swings of your feet and the blank stare at the ground beneath you. He had never seen you so defeated. 
“It’s awfully quiet out here,” Price remarked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “A beautiful night as well.” 
“Yeah.” You mumbled, staring at your feet that were barely swinging beneath you. 
Price knew you were hiding out. The embarrassment of facing your teammates and friends after failing to get the job done was tough on anybody. What was worse was trying to work through the disappointment in yourself.  
“These things happen.” Price said, wasting no time getting to the point. 
A rush of air whispered all around you. It felt like it was mocking you, taunting you for the day’s failure. It was all around you, consuming you in a way that was inescapable.
“Not to me they don’t.” 
Price sighed, watching you gaze off into the sky as if there was something worth watching floating around up there. He knew that you were discouraged, and he understood what that felt like. 
“Time wasn’t on our side. That’s the only reason that we failed today.” Price went on, taking it upon himself to take the open spot next to you.
He groaned as he hoisted himself up, sitting on the hard metal of the lowered tailgate.
“I blew it. I completely and utterly blew it.” You rambled, your voice thick with disappointment only in yourself. 
“What is all of this ‘I’ and ‘me’ shit?” He scoffed. “We all failed to get the job done. This doesn’t fall on you.”
“I was the one who was supposed to get the data transferred,” You argued. “I was the one who wasn’t quick enough.”
Price knew where your head was at. He had been there before, it wasn’t comfortable nor pleasant – but it was something that you just had to work through.
“The room was corrupted. No matter how quick you were, we would’ve lost the information. You’re lucky that we lost the data before any of us made it into the room.” Price pointed out, which truly was something that you hadn’t thought about. 
You didn’t have a response. You felt no need to try to argue. Price wouldn’t be able to change your mind.
“If you think you’re going to be perfect all the time and go your entire career without fucking up, then I’m here to tell you right now that you couldn’t be more wrong,” Price rumbled. “You did your best.”
“My best wasn’t good enough, Captain.” 
The emphasis on his title stung him. It was that subtle reminder that your relationship was still rather strictly professional.
Fuck. Just call me John!
“Sometimes that’s how it goes,” He returned. “You know that.”
It hadn’t been your fault. Deep down, underneath all the damaged pride, you knew that there wasn’t a thing differently that you could’ve done to avoid this outcome. None of you knew that the place was wired and that it was going to vanish right in front of you. 
But this was much harder than it should’ve been. Captain Price, the man that you admired and adored so much, had allowed himself to step aside to let you take the lead on this mission. In turn, he witnessed you fail firsthand as a leader.  
That hurt more than anything. 
The best of the best. 
Suddenly, your “best” wasn’t so great after all.
“If you don’t hear anything else I say tonight, at least hear this…” Price sighed, realizing that his words weren’t having any effect on you. “I’m proud of you.” 
This time a rush of heat surrounded and flooded you, but it wasn’t from the wind.
“You’re just saying that.” You grumbled. 
“I’m not. I’d never say something like that to you if I didn’t mean it.” Price “readjusted” the way that he was sitting. 
He was closer to you now, the outside of his thigh was touching yours in a way that sent electrical static through every vein in your body. His eyes were piercing yours the way that they always did when he was thinking about you. 
“I am proud of you. You’ve never let me down, and I’ve never seen you as anything less than perfect,” He said, and you were suddenly aware of how close his face was to yours. “I care about you.”
You didn’t panic. Breathless and speechless, yes – but in no way were you off put or stunned. This felt…right this time. The other times that the two of you had shared a moment like this (yes, including that one kiss), you had shied away from it. But this time it felt perfect, like right now was the moment that was really supposed to happen.
“John…” You whispered in a way that was more of a plea than anything.
He nearly fainted. His name from your mouth drove him wild, the sound practically touching his own lips. He had waited so long to hear it that it almost didn’t sound like anything. If you didn’t kiss him right now, he was sure he might actually just keel over and die. 
There was a moment of unwanted hesitation. This was the very last chance for you to back out. If you had any discomfort with this happening or if you had any question about how you felt about John Price, then this was your only window of opportunity to escape.  
“Don’t do this if you’re going to get spooked.” Price’s lips were millimeters from yours, almost close enough to where you could feel the smirk on his face.
But you didn’t take that opportunity.
“I won’t.” 
And you kissed him. It was just as tender as the first time and even more passionate. Price chuckled, his laugh muffled by the two of you nearly suffocating each other. The wait had been well worth it, and he felt like everything was falling into place. 
Price knew that this was the first of many. The first of many kisses, heartfelt chats, and special moments that he got to share with the most special woman in the world.
Just this once, you could go against a rule. It wouldn’t hurt you, and it surely would benefit you. If going against one of your standards meant that you could have John Price all to yourself? Then it was worth it. 
Besides, every rule is meant to be broken.
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spinningwebsandtales · 10 months
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Imagine Gojo Convincing You To Sneak Out Of The Dorms
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Gojo Satoru X FemReader
Rating: G
Warnings: Breaking the rules with Gojo, fluff
Word Count: 1.2k
Part 2: here
(A/N:) I don’t know about y’all but I am LOVING the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen! I read the manga and keep up with all the chapters coming out but this was what I was most excited to see come to life. The arc that delves into the past is my top favorite and I love seeing student Gojo. So be prepared for some more Gojo fics and I even have a couple Toji fics lined up as well. If Gojo didn’t exist in the JJK universe I think I’d be a Toji fangirl through and through. Anyway I had to write this and sorry for my absence here lately hopefully that’ll make up for it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
You should have been asleep hours ago, but for some reason all you could do was lay in bed and look at the ceiling. The alarm clock at your bedside glowing in the darkness, reminding you of every minute that went by that you needed to get some sleep. Your frustrations grew when the time turned one in the morning and still sleep evaded you. You finally set up, the blankets bunching at your waist before reaching for the lamp at your bedside. You couldn’t even turn the switch when tapping came from your dorm window. You jumped, squeaking in surprise. With a trembling hand you turned on the lamp to spy a head of silvery white hair behind the glass. Gojo waved wildly, grinning like the cat that got the cream as he spotted you, wide awake. His ever present sunglasses reflecting the lamplight when you got up and walked to the window. He backed up giving you enough room to open it and peek your head out.
“What are you doing,” you seethed as you wanted to shout but had to stick with whispering angrily. “You scared me half to death!”
“Can’t sleep,” he asked while moving his body back and forth. It reminded you of rice moving in the wind. You snorted at the thought, as Gojo was slim and tall like rice. He cocked his head but you waved his curiosity away.
“No and now I really won’t be able to with my adrenaline going crazy thanks to you.”
“Let’s sneak out.”
Of course you should have known not to expect an apology from Gojo Satoru. You believed that he would burst into flames if he said ‘I’m sorry’. It wasn’t the powerful sorcerer in training’s style. But you found yourself drawn to him anyway as deep down despite his cocky attitude and devil may care attitude he was a good person. He would make a great teacher if he didn’t get kicked out from his incessant shenanigans first. You couldn’t believe the principal hadn’t gotten rid of him yet. Though you were sure it’s because Satoru was from the Gojo clan with a sprinkle of their teacher protecting him.
“No,” you answered your patience running short. “I’m sick of getting in trouble because of you.”
“We’ll be extra careful,” Gojo replied. “Those other times were just flukes.”
“And I’m sure leaving me alone to take the brunt of the blame was just a fluke too,” you retorted. “I’m not taking the fall for you anymore Satoru Gojo.”
You were about to shut the window in his face when he snagged the frame with his hand. His blue eyes staring straight through you as his sunglasses had slipped down his nose. You sucked in a breath as he grinned.
“We both know you ratted me out every time,” Gojo replied. You tried to pull the window close but his grip was firm and wouldn’t budge.
“I still got in trouble,” you said. There was no reason in lying to him as Gojo knew everything that happened in the school. And you weren’t ashamed at throwing him under the bus. It helped take your punishment down a notch. So if it helped you out and got the reason behind your bad behavior punished further, so be it. Gojo would do the same thing in the situation, if he actually cared about getting into trouble.
“C’mon,” he purred, “let’s go to the beach. You can’t sleep anyway.”
The beach did sound fun and despite yourself you felt your willpower beginning to flounder at every word and every glance in those heavenly blue eyes.
“Why don’t you go bother Geto,” you groaned. He chuckled before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. It stunned you but you didn’t let Gojo see how much the affection effected you. Climbing out of the window you stood beside your partner in crime within seconds. Your lamp still glowing on your bedside and the window ajar, you gently closed it back but not latching it. If you couldn’t get back into your room and you would have to bunk with Satoru and he wouldn’t let you sleep at all if you ever grew tired.
The city was asleep as you both rarely came across another person on the sidewalk you traversed. The ones you did run into turned out to be drunk office workers on their way home from drinking with their coworkers. Gojo would make fun of their stumbling gates as they passed by, which had you giggling into your hand. The air had a chill and you shivered at the icy breeze that passed through your night clothes. Despite acting like he didn’t care majority of the time about others unless ordered to, Gojo stepped closer every time pulling you into his side. His body though tall and lanky was well built and you blushed at the feeling of his toned form pressed against you. You only shoved him away after you warmed up and couldn’t take your burning cheeks anymore.
When you began to hear the waves lapping at the sandy shore did you take off running. Gojo quickly caught up and you both raced to the water. Of course he won and you wound up having to catch your breath halfway there. He teased you kicking at the water while all you could do was glare in his direction, which only made the young sorcerer laugh harder at your plight. Before you could finish regaining your strength, Gojo dashed across the sand again scooping you up and then running back to the water. You were sure he was going to throw you into the salty waves, but surprisingly he set you down gently in the sand. The lights of ships in the distance filled the night and the dock lights illuminated the golden sand. You breathed in deeply, filling your senses with fresh air. Though you knew if the principle found out you both had snuck out...again... you would be in horrible trouble you were glad you both snuck out. Your body wouldn’t allow you to sleep anyway and the atmosphere that surrounded the beach always soothed you no matter what. 
Gojo was quiet for the longest time letting you soak in the calming surroundings in peace. When you sighed and your shoulders drooped, he silently took your hand. You glanced up at the young man that was just a little older than you, his blue eyes glancing down at you. An unfamiliar light glimmered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to question it. You were about to say something when an enraged voice called from the docks. Both your names echoed across the water and your blood froze. Foiled again and it didn’t take long for Gojo to revert back to normal Gojo, except this time when he took off running you were in tow. Your feet churned up sand and you could barely keep up, but as the adrenaline surged you found yourself laughing in amusement. Gojo laughed with you as you both ran to make your escape. The thought of going back never crossed your mind as you lost yourself enjoying the escape that Gojo talked you into. You gripped his hand tighter and willed yourself to run faster, keeping up with his longer legs while the teachers tried their best to keep up. You were glad that you weren’t able to sleep as you would have missed this with him.
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teyamsatan · 7 months
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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝟙 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀: 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕝𝕝 𝔹𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕐𝕠𝕦
pairing: Neteyam x f!Human/Avatar Reader
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warnings: angst, tragic love trope, the one that got away trope, some fluff, all the feels
wc: 7k words
a/n: surprise??? besties it's been too long, i know, but i hope you enjoy chapter 2 of the 1 x anyone who follows me knows how much this story means to me, and it felt so good to be able to visit it and be inspired for it again. i promise it will absolutely not be as long between this chapter and the next x i can't wait to hear your thoughts! i love you x
to clarify: this series will be following oceans and engines mostly, but both endings will make and appearance and play a part in this story x smooches x
♥ series masterlist ♥ cruel summer ♥ series playlist ♥ masterlist
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Honey, when I’m above the trees, I see this for what it is But now I’m right down in it, All the years I’ve given Is just shit we’re dividing up
Neteyam let out a quiet chuckle as his gaze fell onto your unconscious form, splayed limbs over your head and over the edge of the bed, peaceful look on your face as deep slumber still washed over you, even as eclipse has been gone for quite a while. He made his way to the window, where the blinds were drawn, pulled them apart, and watched in shock as that didn’t even begin to wake you. You and Neteyam shared a lot of traits, a lot of similarities bound you together, but your sleeping habits were definitely not one of them.
Amused, he decided to take a different approach, as he got on top of you and started trailing small, peppered kisses over your chest and neck, over your jaw and face, until eventually your eyes fluttered open and widened momentarily as you adjusted to the unexpected scene, until they melted in the mischievous, loving gaze Neteyam knew so well and loved so much.
“This is one way to wake up, I suppose.”
“A good way?”
Your lips met in a kiss, soft and intimate, not at all resembling the boundaries both of you were supposed to abide by, and right in this moment, it didn’t seem either of you particularly cared.
“The best way.”
You thought about it for a second longer, then pursed your lips in mock deliberation.
“Actually, there was another time you woke me up in an even more… pleasurable way, and I can’t say I’d object if you ever wanted to do that again.”
The memory of that morning made blood travel down south as quickly as it took for you to say the words, and he growled in your neck as his canines grazed it, as he watched you shudder under him, as he smelled your sweet aroma filling up the air he breathed.
“Vol, you have to stop talking if you want to get out of this room today.”
Neteyam could hear the smirk in your voice as you spoke.
“Who says I want to get out of this room today?”
“I do, because I want to show you something.”
Showed you all of my hiding spots I was dancing when the music stopped And in the disbelief, I can’t face reinvention I haven’t met the new me yet
Neteyam watched the door of your bathroom, intently listening for the constant hum of the shower to see if he could hear you, as if maybe by listening closely enough, he would be able to have a direct stream into your thoughts, the way it felt like he used to back when you were you and he was him and you were… well, whatever you were to each other. He probably shouldn’t have drank as much as he did - not enough to be fully intoxicated, but enough to know the filter between his mouth and brain was shaky at best, completely gone at worst, and very little good could come out of it. He knew all of that and yet, here he was, unable to stop his feet from moving to the labs, as soon as he felt like he could do so without attracting attention to himself. It was late, and most people were off to bed, so it wasn’t hard to do, even in this small settlement deep in the mountains the Omaticaya were forced to now call home.
When it became clear your thoughts would never make themselves known through the wall, his eyes wandered around, taking in every nook and cranny of this room that was an exact replica of the one you lived in all your life back in Hell’s Gate. He appreciated the humans for how much they cared for you, how much they were intent on making this little corner of the planet as homely for you as humanly possible. This room was loved and lived in; there were stains on the desk, crinkles on the chair, cracks in the walls… there were books and record players, pillows and comforters, plushies and knick knacks that Neteyam knew by heart, that screamed of you and the life you lived, that although not what you wanted or what you truly deserved, shone brightly all around you and illuminated even the darkest corners of the world.
Something caught the corner of his eyes, one of the few things he’s never seen before. A box, hidden deep in the corner beneath your desk, with a neat little label on it that said simply “Neteyam’s box. Do not open!”. If it was any other day, or any other circumstance, if his mind wasn’t clouded with the heady concoction that was way stronger than he remembered and probably the reason humans were as mindless as they were to begin with, he would have heeded the warning clearly showcased on the rectangular enclosure. But it was today, and it was these circumstances and he was intoxicated, so without dwelling on all the reasons he probably shouldn’t, he found himself reaching for it.
It was tiny in his hands, so tiny, it was hard to understand that something this small and this seemingly harmless could knock the breath out of his lungs with enough power to overcome and vanquish whatever self-control he still possessed. So many memories, all fighting for dominion over his consciousness, all painful enough to open every stitch his body’s been working so hard to craft in order to heal him. One memory in particular clearly won, one that’s already been percolating in his mind today, but now was all he could think of anymore. The keepsake he associated with it was missing from the box, which ironically made it stand out even more.
There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you Both of these things can be true There is happiness
“Mmm.. intrigue. The Omaticayan prince wants to show me something, I guess I have to oblige then.” At the roll of his eyes, you laugh and pull him by the back of the neck until your lips meet again. In these moments, it was easy to forget the reality of your circumstances, the impossibility of your relationship, the hidden aspect to it that made it so no one would ever be allowed to find out.
It’s only been a couple of months since your 19th birthday, and somehow, each day got better. Each day was a reminder that he was the best person that has ever lived, the man of your dreams, the most empathetic, unintentionally charismatic, intelligent, funniest, most beautiful person you knew… each day a dream, until the inevitable forced wake-up call that he’ll never be yours, as soon as you had to pretend in the village, in Hell’s Gate, as you had to watch the matriarchs search for an appropriate mate for him and know there was nothing you could do to stop it.
He wasn't yours to lose. Not in the way you wanted him to be, not in the way you needed him to be. You tried to push the ugly thoughts from your mind as you felt him burying his head in your neck, just breathing you in. It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. No matter what happened, no one would ever know him like you did, no one would ever be able to understand every nook and cranny of his soul the way you were able to. No matter what happened, he was yours right now. While you still had this, he will always be yours. While you could feel his heartbeat in your chest as he lay on top of you, while your body was moulded by his own and your lips knew to recite each one of his freckles like a prayer, he’ll always be yours.
“You’re not as cute as you think you are, you know?” You snicker at his words, that you may believe if it wasn’t for the way he was almost purring under your touch, or the way he was fully sunk into your body, or the way you could tell he was smiling as he said them.
“Ha! 18 years of you falling for my every whim suggests otherwise, Teyam. Now scoot, if you want me to get ready.”
“So where are we going?” fastening your oxygen mask until it clicked, you made your way out of the living headquarters and were taken aback to see Seze waiting, her soft trills greeting you as she approached, her big frame almost knocking you down as she bumped her snout into your face. “Hey, girl. What are you doing here?”
You yelped slightly as Neteyam took you by the armpits and lifted you so you could mount the banshee easier, before getting on behind you and making tsaheylu, an arm fastened across your chest, pulling you tightly into his own, keeping you close to him. You’ve done this so many times in the 6 years since Neteyam passed his Iknimaya, and despite it all, it never stopped feeling magical, and fantastical and wondrous to you, like it was almost unfair that a mere human could experience such emotions and views, such exhilaration and freedom. You wished your whole life you could one day have your own ikran and really experience it the way one was meant to, but you were grateful for whatever moment you did get, and grateful for Neteyam for always being willing to share these things with you.
“You know the drill, ma Vol. You have to ho-“
“-hold onto you like I’ll never let you go again. I know.” This saying, that he said his father told him on his first ikran ride as a child, became almost a mantra in your life, with every moment you spent in his presence.
Hold on like you’ll never let me go again.
Past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would’ve loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind
It was painful, the way the hot water was hitting your skin, in droplets that felt like spikes, in touches that felt like stings. Your mind was scattered after the momentous day that tried you, one which you never expected to live through again.
Neteyam… your ‘Teyam… someone else’s Neteyam. Different, so different and yet… still him. Painfully so. You hoped for more, more of a change, more of a departure - you hoped for a stranger, that could allow you to forget that the person you were looking at, despite adorning some new tattoos and a different hairstyle, was the man who knew you, down to the darkest, most intimate corners of your mind. You hoped that when you looked in his eyes, you wouldn’t see the stars be born and die, you wouldn’t see 21 years of your own life and the life you shared looking back at you. You hoped his stripes, that you could still feel on your fingerprints and on your tongue, would have shifted and become muted and dull. But none of that was true. Despite everything that stood against you, despite being worlds, galaxies, universes apart, he was still the same Neteyam. The question nagged at you, unwavering and incessant: were you still the same Vol?
You felt goosebumps appear on your skin as soon as you left the confines of the shower behind. Weird - it wasn’t cold, and yet here you were, near shaking, heartbeat caught in your throat in… anticipation? Fear? It was hard to say, but, with a deep sigh, you fastened your towel and opened the door to your bedroom.
Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you took in the man sitting on your bed, that was way too big to comfortably fit in your tiny room, not that that’s ever stopped him in all the years you’ve known him. He looked almost out of place here now, so long after the last time, and you winced a little at the contrast between the memories in your mind and what was displayed so clearly in front of you.
“Fuck! Neteyam, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?”
Neteyam looked lost in thought, almost unaware of your presence or your voice, glossy eyes fixed somewhere beneath your desk, on a specific box you wish he never got to see.
“This room hasn’t changed one bit in all this time. It’s so weird. Everything’s changed…” the sigh that tried him felt like it was expelled from deep within his soul, like a sigh he’s been holding for the last year and a half. “Everything… and yet this room, it’s like a portal to the past, like I woke up in a life that feels like a mere dream sometimes.”
You don’t interrupt his musings.
“The sheets, the books, the smell, the way the light flickers sometimes, the way the mattress dips on one side more than the other because you’ve always preferred the left side of the bed, and I always had to sleep on the right, even the broken vase I broke with my tail the night I left. It’s all the same.”
His gaze finally settles on you. He looks pained as he sees you, finally the human he remembers, that he loved. It hurts him being in this room. It hurts you, too. It was your turn to sigh, as you tried to remove the images of the past flashing in front of your eyes like a picture book, and tried to focus on the reality that was still weighing heavily on your heart, no matter how many counterweights you balanced it with.
Your sigh matched his earlier one as you spoke, your eyes darting to the room that you spent less time in with each passing day, that felt as much of a relic of the past as you sometimes felt in his life.
“Yeah. I guess nothing’s changed.”
Tell me, when did your winning smile Begin to look like a smirk? When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?
He notices an ornate bow by the foot of the bed, clearly the make of a talented Omaticayan warrior. It annoys him to no end that he can recognise the work easily, having grown up seeing it, having been one of the few that could compare to his. It angers him further just how much the disdain doesn’t seem to want to melt away, regardless of how much he’s told himself to let it go, regardless of how he swore the reason he came here tonight had nothing to do with it. He had no right to pry, not anymore. No right to be jealous… not anymore.
“Well, at least some things have changed…”
You blush, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to start patting your cheeks, that feel like they caught fire.
“Tarsem made it for me. It’s cute.” You didn’t know why, it’s not like you owed him anything, but you couldn’t help the next words, that stumbled unceremoniously out of your mouth in a panicked hurry. You didn’t owe him anything, but you still needed him to know. “And platonic.”
“Yeah, so were we.” The words, and the bitterness in them, so thinly veiled despite what you assumed were his best efforts, shocked you. This wasn’t like Neteyam at all - Neteyam was kind, and careful with his words always, he was considerate and empathetic, and he was never mean, especially not to you. Especially not like this.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and the tears that threatened to spill, leaving his words to hang in the air, making it thick and heavy with heightened emotions you were both trying your best to suppress.
“That’s not fair.”
Another sigh.
“You’re right. It’s not.”
I can’t make it go away by making you a villain I guess it’s the price I pay for seven years in heaven And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties
“Are you drunk?” One exhale was enough for the stench of bourbon to hit you like a truck, and all of a sudden, it was clear enough - why he was here, why he was saying these things, why it felt like all the bitterness in his soul, that you assume has been as deeply buried as your own, was coming out in unsightly manners, and you were the one who had to stomach it. You forget, sometimes, it was easy to - that Neteyam suffered as much as you, that he lost just as much as you did, that dreaded July 9th.
When your question was met with silence, you continued.
“Why are you here, Neteyam?”
“I came to see you. The real you. At least while I still get the chance.” His gaze hardens looking at your body. He’s yet to look at your face - whether he doesn’t want to or can’t, you can’t tell. “Grandmother tells me you’re going to go for the consciousness transfer.”
You shift uncomfortably in place. His tone was distant and once more not like the one you loved at all.
“We all are. It’s the only way forward.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is.” He scoffs, rolling his beautiful golden eyes, picking a spot on the wall to grimace at.
“I’m not arguing with you on this.”
“Didn’t realise there was anything to argue about.”
“You shouldn’t do it.”
It was your turn to scoff, feeling irate despite your best efforts, despite knowing it was the alcohol talking, despite knowing you should tell him to leave, that nothing productive could possibly come out of this. There was anger in you, you realise - bubbling just beneath the surface, anger you’ve buried so deep, you didn’t even know it was nestled in your soul like a parasite, looming in latency, until it was time to come to light.
“And why the hell not?”
“Because you just shouldn’t.” his glare was harsh as it snapped to finally look at you, melting a little when his eyes found yours, the ones he's loved his whole entire life.
“Oh, I see we’re being mature. I’m doing this, we all are. It’s the only way. End of discussion, Neteyam.”
“… you could die.”
Your eyes widen. There's tears in his eyes, a lump in his throat. You sigh, placated a little by the realisation that all of this, although it could have been done better, was just his way of telling you he’s worried about you. You’re grateful, so grateful, that he still is - worried, that is. Your voice softens a little as you say the next words.
“Or I could finally live.”
“Why take the chance, it makes no sense. Just stay as an Avatar.”
“No. I will never fully live in either of these bodies unless I give one up. I’ve made my decision.”
“It’s a stupid decision. It’s a rash decision.”
“Rash? Are you serious? I’ve had 21 years to make this decision, Neteyam. Twenty-one years of feeling like an outcast, like an alien - of feeling like there’s no place for me in this world. I can finally be one of the people, I can finally have a purpose, and you want me to give that up?”
There was more, so much more - it was a complicated decision, the one you took, and so much thought has gone into it, so many sleepless nights went into this… but how could you say that to him? How can you tell him that he’s part of the reason you need to do this, that you need to be rid of this body, the body he’s known and he’s touched, the body that memorised every ounce of him by heart, that still felt phantom pains from the lack of his fingers on your skin? How can you tell him you will never be free until the body he knew and loved so intimately is gone… forever?
“I hate this body, Neteyam. I hate it. This body is useless, and weak. I have nothing in this body, I lost everything because of it. Everything… You have no fucking idea what it’s like. What any of this is like.” You urged him silently, pleading for him to understand. To stop asking you questions that would dig up a grave long dug and settled, that should remain untouched, that he was unwittingly desecrating. You were scared of what would come out when he did.
“And who does? Tarsem?”
“What?” You couldn’t believe your ears, the spiteful words coming out of Neteyam’s mouth like they were nothing, like it meant nothing when it hurt and burned and ached, when the seams with which you’ve become so acquainted starting splitting with every syllable uttered, when the anger that has been bubbling up in your chest for years, that you didn’t even know you still held onto was threatening to spill and poison this room and all its inhabitants.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you actually saying these words out loud? I can’t believe you, Neteyam. So this is what this whole thing is about, huh? You came all this way and act like you’re worried about my safety, about the transfer, when the whole time you were just jealous of Tarsem? Jealous about something that’s not even there? He’s a friend, Neteyam. A friend.”
You’re both shouting at each other, screaming and hoping that will alleviate the pain, that will push the tears back in your tear ducts and not let them spill all over your face. You’re panting, the hurt burning holes in your chest, the anger cauterising them and making you push forward, for another blow, and then another… and then another.
“Wake up, Vol! Are you blind?! He wants you, he wants you to be the next Tsa’hik of the Omaticaya. He’s not nice because you’re such a treat to be around. He’s nice because he wants to fuck you!”
Silence. Silence that deafens, that echoes in your eardrums a lot more than the yells, roaring like a crashing waterfall. Silence. No silence can fix this. Nothing can fix this.
“Get out.”
His eyes are pits of guilt and despair, shock and terror at the words he would have never said out loud normally - you knew that. You knew he regretted them as soon as they came out of his mouth, but you didn’t care. Not right now. Not when he made the last night before your iknimaya, a night you were supposed to rest through so you can face whatever was waiting for you tomorrow, a bad memory that will only bitter with time.
“Vol, I -”
“No. Vol nothing. You don’t get to call me that anymore. That nickname was reserved for the child I grew up with, the teenager who looked out for me, the man who loved me - it’s not for you. You don’t get to come back to my life after so long just so you could try to ruin whatever little happiness I’ve managed to scrounge up from the scraps I was left with. Leave.”
“Please…”
“I don’t know what Tarsem’s intentions are. You’re right. Maybe he really does just want to fuck me. But I realised something, all this time apart. You didn’t fight for me. None of you did. You were my family, all I had, and it took you leaving and him becoming Olo’eyktan to realise I’ve never had a family. It took losing everything to see how little I had to begin with. You could have done something. You could have fought it, you could screamed and shouted at the top of your lungs that you loved me, that what we had mattered more than the clan or your duty, mattered more than controllable and comfortable mirage of peace, but you didn’t. You were ashamed of me, of what we did. It wasn’t enough for you, that I was human. You let me go, you watched me leave, I watched you mate with someone else knowing I will carry these wounds for the rest of my life and I did it with no complaints. I understood you, as much as I could, and I let go of the one love I’ve always wanted to hold on to. You didn’t fight for me. So you don’t get to be jealous. Not anymore. It’s not fair to me, or to you, or to the pregnant mate you’ve left at home.” The door was open now, gripped tightly by your aching hand, the tears falling from your faces and onto the ground the only sound to help the torturous silence left behind by your words, so many of them you’ve needed to say, so many of them you wish you never had to. “Go, Neteyam.”
No one teaches you what to do When a good man hurts you And you know you hurt him, too
The night was painful and never ending, the conversation pulsating in your ears like a terrible migraine. Why did he come back? You were doing well. Well enough. Why did he have to come and ruin whatever little joy you had? Why now, the night before the most important trial of your life, why now, so you can question and overanalyse every little interaction you and Tarsem ever had in order to prove him wrong, when all your mind can do is scour for reasons why he was right. Was he right?
He was right, wasn’t he? Why else would he be so kind to a demon? Why else would he train you, and accept you? Nobody ever had, not fully. Nobody ever had…
“Damn you, Neteyam.”
Honey, when I’m above the trees I see it for what it is But now my eyes leak acid rain On the pillow where you used to lay your head
Eventually, sleep did find you. And in it, so did dreams - memories, as they usually did, at your most vulnerable, nothing but your shaky psyche and a desperate desire to relive your happiest times to stand in their way.
“Why did you make Seze land where she did if you’re gonna make me walk so much?”
With a deep sigh, he stopped in his tracks and kneeled, and you smiled knowingly as you jumped on his back, your chin resting on his shoulder.
“You’re such a pain in the ass.”
“Eh, you’ve always known this about me, Teyam. And you still love me, anyway. What does that say about you, huh?”
“That I can’t resist a pretty face, especially when it’s yours, my Vol.”
Well, that shut you up. Neteyam could always shut you up like this, by saying things you both knew he shouldn’t say, and while you wanted to admonish him, while you wanted to tell him off because this wasn’t helping, this would never help this already convoluted situationship you found yourself in, you couldn’t. Not when your heart was beating out of your chest, not when your blush was so strong it was making you feel like your cheeks caught fire, not when it made you want to scream confessions that have settled in your chest a while ago, that would never see the light of day, as long as you could help it.
He laughed at your silence, and pushed past thick shrubbery to unveil the most beautiful sight you have ever seen.
“Surprise!”
If your heart hadn’t dampened the rest of the world and all its thunderous sounds, you would have noticed the waterfall crashing into the river below, but as it was, the sight laid bare in front of you was, truly, a surprise, and God… what a surprise it was. A sight almost too good to be true, the beauty of it all almost surreal. The cliff was remote and secluded, surrounded by tall colorful plants and hedges - perfect for activities no one should ever be privy to. The backdrop was something out of a fairy tale, down to the fish jumping from the waterfall and straight into the water below, and the rainbow that formed with every blow of the wind. But somehow, even despite every natural advantage that was so graciously displayed almost as if especially for you, still, the thing that made it all feel almost transcendent was just a simple blanket, woven in a pattern you knew was his own, on top of which sat a basket filled to the brim with your favourite fruits and culinary delicacies.
“You know, Teyam…” you chuckle, still taken aback by the gesture, almost chocked up from the love you felt for him, that ran somehow deeper every day. You wondered if there was end to it all, to how much this love will grow, to how much your heart could possibly hold within itself before bursting at the seams. “I was gonna sleep with you anyway, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”
You watched as his head swung backwards as he laughed, nuzzling itself in your belly, his braids tickling your thighs with every inadvertent move. A squeal left your body as his much larger arms reached above him and picked you up, manhandling you like a little doll, until you were on the ground, at the foot of the blanket. He said nothing, but bent down until his lips made contact with the top of your head, the romantic and intimate gesture enough to turn your insides gooey and your brain to mush. His voice was saccharine and velvet smooth when he eventually spoke.
“You look so good - so good - wearing my choker. Now take it all off. I want to see you wear nothing else, my Vol.”
After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now Is the green light of forgiveness
The morning was dragging and slow. Your mind was scattered and numb, perfectly complementing your burning eyes and heavy heart. You were angry, and sad, hopeless and forlorn, all of the things you shouldn’t be on the brink of your iknimaya. You needed your focus and your wits, both of which felt as far away as the ikran rookery you were on your way to.
“Ma Tawtute!”
You cringe at the nickname you’ve become fond of in time, that you hated right now, and the voice that spoke it. You try to no avail to leave, but you’re trapped when he catches you by the hand, willing you in place.
“Let go of me, Tarsem.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
You huff, rolling your eyes and tugging at your trapped wrist.
“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I can’t help until I know what it is.”
“Why are you nice to me?” you were angry again, almost eager to be proven right, eager to know for a fact what Neteyam told you was true.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I’m asking. Why? Why are you nice to me? Why do you smile at me, and train me… why are you making the People accept us?
Tarsem looked confused and taken aback at your barrage of questions, at your misplaced anger and your sudden skepticism of his actions. You couldn’t blame him.
“Because… you deserve it. Because if there’s one thing I learnt in time, is that good people, good humans, are hard to come by. And you, and the scientists, Spider… all the people who chose to stay behind in the way so many years ago… you’re it. You are good. You are kind, and knowledgeable, and you have devoted your whole life to the Omaticaya and to this planet, without ever asking for anything in return. The least I can do is make sure you live a life worth remembering, that you receive your well-earned place amongst the People.”
You were so content, so at peace, whenever your head was rested on Neteyam’s chest. You were home in his arms, home when your fingers were free to roam his chest, free to draw the constellations his tanhi made up when connected, free when his breath was fanning over your face with each kiss on your forehead.
“I’m so full.”
“Are you, now?”
“Of food, you freak.”
“Mm, I’m not doing my job well enough then. Guess I just need to try harder.”
You laugh, happiness enveloping like a shroud. You were scared of it, of your next question, but you knew you needed to know.
“Why did you bring me here, Neteyam?”
A shrug. Seemingly nonchalant, but there was purple in his cheeks, a flutter in his heart, loud and booming against your ear.
“It was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it reminded me of you. Of us. As soon as I found it, I knew this could be it. Our place.”
“Our place.”
Neteyam’s head throbbed painfully, a nefarious mixture between a hangover and guilt making the world spin and his heart ache. Why? Why did he do that, say that? And before your Iknimaya, too. It was an important day, one of the most important days - important enough to determine the rest of your life within the Omaticaya and he managed to ruin it for you.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Norm.
“You look like you need this.” Whatever Norm handed him looked like it had already been eaten and thrown up before making its way into his hands, but he accepted it anyway. Norm knew best, and whatever it was, probably was going to help.
“It smells disgusting.”
“It is disgusting. But it will help. The hangover, that is. Everything else, I guess that’s what I’m here for.”
“Listen… I heard you, in her room last night. It was muffled enough, but the walls can only muffle screams so much, you know?”
“I fucked up, Norm. So badly. I said… horrible things to her last night. I was drunk, and sad… I was stupid and jea-“ He catches himself before he can finish, but it was too late.
“Jealous. You can say it, it’s ok.”
“I know… about you two. She told me. So you don’t have to hide. Not with me.”
Neteyam’s eyes go wide at Norm’s words, but he was relieved that he knew - that someone knew. Someone he could talk to. Someone to confess to.
“She’s right. About everything, she was right. I abandoned her. Over and over. I let my mum treat her and Spider like they were pariahs, and stood by as my dad did nothing about it for years. I always thought that’s just how it was always going to be, that nothing I could have done would have prevented it, but I look at her life now, and how Tarsem treats her, and I realise I was wrong. And they were wrong. And we failed her. So many years, my whole life… I failed her.”
Norm sighs, both of them looking at you, talking to Max, who would also be taking his Iknimaya today, smiling and motioning at how you were planning on subduing your ikran. You were lively and animated, but your eyes didn’t reflect it, and Neteyam hurt at the blame he bore for it.
“Kid… you did your best. You both did. And you loved her, and stood by her, even in the face of everything that stood against you. You didn’t fail her. The world did. The world failed you both.”
You haven’t met the new me yet And I think she’ll give you that
It went by in a blur; in a mess of worry and distress. It’s like he blinked and here you were, the first one to go, the first one to succeed. He was so proud of you, prouder than he’s ever been about anything in this life. His heart was beaming with happiness and love, his head swirling with all the way he’s imagined this day in his mind and thought it would never come, but here it was. He was living through it, and had to come to terms with the fact it was never going to be quite how he envisioned. But he still had you, and he still had today. And at least some of it, he felt, could be the same. In his dreams, you passed, and you shared the first flight, and he got to see you fully blossom, the way you deserved, the way he always knew you would. In his dreams, your ikran intertwined in flight, and you spent so much time exploring, laughing, yelling, living. In his dreams, both your ikran perched at the top of the Hallelujah mountain, trilling softly would be the only witnesses to your love, to the way he’d make sure to not let you go until the second he absolutely had to, until you were both spent, looking upwards at the unending and star-filled sky. He would never get that, but your first flight - he still could. He could still be it.
“First fly seals the bond, kid. You gotta go, now!”
You couldn’t believe it. You actually did it. All the training, and the fantasies, all the nights you spent as a little kid imagining what it would be like to actually fly on top of one, all the days you spent on Neteyam’s, while he told you about the bond, while you shed tears from the pain that came with knowing you would never experience it… they all led you to this. This one moment. Your ikran was beautiful, just like you always pictured her to be. She was cooing happily and moving slowly towards the edge of the cliff, almost as if heeding Jake’s words, or itching to further your newfound connection.
For one second, you look backwards, at all the people clapping and beaming with excitement, and your eyes, as they always seemed to, immediately drifted to Neteyam. They filled with tears at his pride, at the way his body radiated it, at the way he called his ikran, undoubtedly just as excited as you to share a moment you’ve always envisioned in dreams and reveries, one that seemed like a rare occasion by which your fairytale ideal life could come true. But your life wasn’t a fairytale - it would never be, it couldn’t be. And that dream, you had to leave behind. That dream, just like everything did when it came to him, speaks to a love long gone, an uncertain future, so much helplessness and hopelessness and dread, so much fleeting happiness that dissipated when reality struck. It speaks to the past, a past neither of you related to anymore.
Another second, for your gaze to reach Tarsem. In him, you saw a future. In it, you saw stability and comfort, a love worth harbouring and cherishing. In it, you saw the Omaticaya, and the forest, a destiny that always seemed out of your reach, but which was now closer than ever. In it, you saw kids, running around, calling you mother. You saw the People, reaching for you for help and guidance, a feather jacket and pilgrimages that would decipher Eywa’s will.
In them, you saw yourself. One one hand, your past self, a human, broken and unmoored, born in a planet that didn’t make accommodations for the likes of her. You saw love that ran so deep it formed endless canyons in the pit of your soul, that emptied when the love was so ruthlessly taken away from you. You saw your mother, wicked and disinterested, and your father, evil and dangerous. On the other, you saw a warrior. Na'vi. Omaticaya, through and through. Tough and seasoned, healed and ready to heal. A mother. A mate.
You were neither of those.
There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you too Both of these things can be true There is happiness in our history
“There’s been talk, you know.”
“Oh?”
“About you.”
“I must be getting pretty good at it, this whole climbing and sneaking thing. I was hanging on an upper branch of a tree back in the village the other day. Managed to somehow catch the end tail of a conversation between a few girls. Didn’t hear me, too busy talking… about you, the Omaticayan Prince.” You snickered at the title, one of many titles reserved for Neteyam alone. You knew he hated it, all of it - the attention, and the pressure, the sacrifices that came with being worthy of all of them.
“Talking about how hot you are, how much they would kill to be the one you get to get take home at night. Theorising about who could it be. Going on and on about how lucky whoever you will choose as a mate will be, how there’s not a single girl in the village that wouldn’t die to have that honour bestowed upon them.“
Neteyam sighed and shrugged, brushing off the comments for only one of his own. “Only one girl I care about.”
You smiled in his chest, abundantly relieved and terrified all at once. This wasn’t good, this was so dangerous, the way he was playing the strings of your heart like he was a world-renowned harpist… but oh, it felt so necessary right now - the validation, the promise that, at least for a while, you still get to keep him just to yourself.
“She’s a lucky girl. Whoever she is.”
“I’m the lucky one. Because she’s… everything. And I work every day, try my hardest every day, to be worthy of her. And I want to make her a promise. For as long as i can help it, I promise I’ll hold on to her like I’ll ne-“
“Never let her go again.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard and hummed approvingly in return. You hoped he couldn’t feel the tears rolling down his side. You hoped he couldn’t tell that breaking this promise will break you. You hoped he never has to.
“Good.”
“She’ll do the same.”
Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight
There was so much spoken between you and Neteyam in just a few moments. There was so much he can see in you, so much struggle in your soul. And eventually, he sees you turn away from him, from all of them, willing your ikran away. He watches as you leave, by yourself, desperately wanting to go after you, realising it’s better if he didn’t. And just like that, a huge chapter of his life, the longest one, the best one, was instantly over and Neteyam knows he just lost you, forever.
You were never his to lose.
Leave it all behind
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alimaybankkk · 1 year
Text
𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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summary: when you’re drunk, a boy helps you out and eventually ends up pairing you back up with your childhood best friend. although, your dad isn’t too happy about you sneaking back in late at night, and in the morning, there’s a lot to reflect on.
warnings: abus!e, getting dr!nk, (trying to avoid cl lol), idrk
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JJ WAS NOT AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON. 
even if he was, who would he have to be affectionate to?
his friends, maybe.
pope, kiara and john b, the people who knew him best weren’t much of affectionate people either. is that why they were friends? is that why they were drawn to each other? jj would never know.
but it didn’t matter. it really didn’t. he never even thought about giving love to other people. he thought about giving people laughs.
if he wanted to give someone love, it would be as simple as a hug.
until he met her.
WHEN HE met her, she’d been drunk. she’d chugged beer after beer at a kegger at the boneyard, giving her a hazy view of the blonde that now stood in front of her. 
he’d reached out to her shoulder blades, trying to balance her after she’d stepped on a sea shell. blood was now gushing from her bare foot in the sand. 
and so there was no need to tell her she was pretty. sure, jj was a douche for constantly playing girls, but he wasn’t as bad as to sleep with someone who was under the influence.
she was pretty, though, jj had thought. he knew it killed him not to say anything. he would usually be trying to shotgun with a girl like her, but judging the way she had wobbled the entire night, it didn’t look like she needed any more beer—and that was rich coming from jj.
and so he vowed not to do so much as flirt when he had saw her. it was the first time even trying to talk to a girl he would usually want to sleep with but couldn’t. he had no way to be certain of how to go about it, so he treated her like he would his friends.
“hey,” he said, gripping her shoulders strongly. “you good?”
she flashed a grin, showing her bright white teeth. they had a bit of pizza in them which made jj giggle on the inside. but just as she opened her mouth, she leaned over and gagged.
jj almost gagged himself. he never really knew how to deal with vomit.
no vomit came out, but he knew there was only a matter of time. “hey, hey, you good?”
he immediately grabbed her arm and took her to a nearby clump of bushes, holding her hair back.
she held her stomach, reaching up to her throat and let it all out.
after a good three minutes, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at jj through her lashes. “thank you.”
jj’s heart fluttered as he rocked in place for a second. “ ‘f course..”
“what—what’s your name?” she asked, sitting down on the ground. she rested her elbows on her knees and sat slightly forward. 
“’s jj… maybank,” he said.
she smiled, looking to her right. “i’m y/n.”
“nice to meet you,” he said. “so, you have a ride home, right?”
she didn’t answer. she just stared and bit her lip. 
“if you do, you should probably get going. you’re shitfaced.”
she sighed. “‘m gonna figure it out, okay, jj?”
“what—do you not have a ride?” 
“i said i’ll figure it out,” she smiled, giving an encouraging smile.
“listen,” he began. he sighed and ran his callused fingers through his hair. “i have a friend. he hates these things and he ‘keeps the signal clear.’ he can take you home. he always takes us home. i don’t think he’ll mind if he has to miss out on the party a little bit.”
“what’s his name?” 
“heyward. pope, heyward. his name—his name is pope,” jj spluttered.
“i know him,” she looked around. “childhood friend of mine.”
jj was shocked. he’d hardly ever met anyone who’d known his friends before. they were, including him, locals with fake identities who no one really knew of. “great. i’m sure, sure, that you’d trust him to take you home….”
“yeah,” she nodded. “can you come?”
“what?” 
“you helped me. i’d feel a lot safer if you came.”
he nodded quickly. “yeah—yeah that’s cool.”
thirty minutes later, the car was silent as pope drummed his fingers on the wheel. he sighed, turning to look at her in the eyes. “i honestly can’t believe you.”
“sorry?”
“sorry, that came out wrong,” pope mumbled awkwardly. “what i meant was, i’ve known you for so long, and i’ve never believed you would get that shitfaced.”
“i’m not even that bad.”
jj laughed from the back of the car and pope gave him a look saying, who do you think you are?
“hell yeah you are, chicky,” he laughed.
“chicky?” jj questioned.
“it’s what i used to call her,” pope explained. “her grandparents call her chickabiddy, and i just shortened the nickname.”
“cute.” jj rolled his eyes.
“i’m sorry, do you have a problem?” pope snapped.
“you guys are just like… flirting. i hate third wheeling…”
“ew,” y/n squealed, fake gagging. her drunken state was starting to come back into her actions. “pope my brother.”
“pope is not your brother…” pope laughed.
“pope like my brother.”
“pope like your brother.”
“at least explain a little bit of this to me,” jj suggested. “how do you guys know each other? why did you guys stop talking?”
“we know each other because of our parents,” pope spoke. “my mom was best friends with her mom, then our dads got close. we stopped talking because…” pope looked at her, a sad look in his eyes. 
“‘cause what?” jj asked.
“pope, no,” she begged, grabbing his arm. 
“nothing in our control,” pope simply sighed. she gave him a look, silently saying, thank you.
“what?” jj asked. “what’s going on?”
“you know what, j, just drop it.” pope ordered. “drop it.”
jj sighed, ripping his hat off his head. “whatever, man.”
y/n sighed. she couldn’t help but feel sorry for jj. she knew exactly what it was like to be left out of conversations, to be left without knowledge. but no matter what, this was not something she wanted anyone else to know about.
especially someone she hardly knew.
but, maybe i shouldn’t think about jj like that, she thought. he took care of me.
maybe it would be different in the morning, though. after all, she was drunk.
eventually, the rugged voltswagen bus pulled into y/n’s neighborhood, but she grabbed pope’s arm aggressively. “pope, i need you to pull around back. you remember the road to get there?”
he sighed, eyes projecting understanding. “yeah.”
jj was starting to get angry. he was getting tired of being left out.
once pope had pulled around the back, she’d given him a goodbye hug combined with a thank you hug and then opened her door after muttering thanks, bye, jj.
he felt upset he got less than pope. but he hardly knew her, so what did it matter? “wait, y/n!” he called.
she turned around, hair blowing in the wind. to jj, she looked like a goddess. his knees buckled even in his seat. “let me walk you in. you’re drunk, remember?”
she bit her lip. “you sure?”
“positive.”
he got out of the car, jogging to where she stood. he chuckled as he linked arms with her, suppressing a giggle from her plump lips.
man, that laugh, jj thought. he hardly knew her, but he knew for sure that he could listen to it for hours. he even wanted to record it on his phone so he could listen to it on replay for hours.
attempting to go around to the front of the house, she stopped him. “i’m over here.”
jj furrowed his brows. “you’re not going in through the front door?”
“snuck out.” 
he sighed and let her take him to the window of where she showed him her bedroom was, and jj silently thanked the lord that her house was one story. “i’ll see you.”
“bye, jj,” she whispered.
in her drunken state, she wobbled uneasily without the support of jj’s arm after he’d withdrawn them. but nevertheless, she stood on her tiptoes and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. he froze, cheeks staining red. she pinched his shoulder. “thanks for taking care of me.”
he nodded, that being the only thing he could do.
she climbed through the window, heart dropping at the sight.
sitting on her bed was her father, tipping a bottle of beer back and swaying on the softness of his seat.
“dad…” she mumbled, wishing it was enough to sober her up. “‘m…”
“shut the fuck up,” he whispered, throwing the bottle of beer on the ground. it shattered, the rest of the liquid that had been left splashing on the floor and onto her cheeks. she reached up to wipe it off, lip trembling at the smell.
she could already feel the hangover creeping in.
he rose from where he sat, walking quietly over to her. she looked down at her feet, hands clasped in front of her body. he tipped her chin up, looking at her face carefully. finally, he sniffled. “you’re drunk, ain’t ya?”
“dad.” she said sternly, trying to build up the courage to fight back. but as soon as he swiped one slap to the face, dragging his harsh fingers across her cheek, she just gave up. her head whipped in the same direction his hand ended in.
sobs immediately left her lips, blood following. 
her face felt hot as he backed up, sighing, seeming like he was trying to contain himself. he grabbed her by the top of her shirt, lifting her slightly into the air. “where the fuck were you?”
“dad, i was just with some friends.”
“getting shitfaced?” he laughed, not believing. “huh?”
he slapped another stinging burn to her face, shoving her against the wall. “you’re just like your mama!”
“dad, stop it!”
“huh? you hear me?” he punched her in the nose, then punched her in the eye. it was sure to make it black and blue tomorrow. “always thinking she’s better than everyone—thinking she owns herself? who the hell do you think you are?”
“please. stop. please!” she coughed blood, feeling vomit erupt in her throat.
“and you have the audacity to think you deserve to come back like this? just like your mama.”
as she choked a little bit, enough vomit spewed from her mouth to cause her father to jump back in disgust. “you fucking pig!”
more came out and he kicked her in the stomach before leaving the room.
THE NEXT MORNING she found herself laying there on the floor, not remembering how she got there at first. but as soon as she saw the vomit, felt her pounding head and body, she remembered. she remembered everything.
she whimpered as she stood, sobbing as she stepped on a broken glass. she looked down at her foot that was now bleeding and sighed, a tear falling from her eye.
grabbing her uncharged phone, she stepped into the shower and washed the vomit out of her hair and tried her best to clean the cuts.
when the water was turned off and the bathroom as now shrouded with condensation, a text from pope waited on her lock screen.
she sighed, opening her phone up to take a look.
popeeee
i know you probably will get mad at me, but i wanted to know if you got in the house and back into your room without any trouble.
she smiled. pope was truly caring.
me
well, my dad saw me, and you know… but it’s fine. just a few scratches.
popeeee
come to the chateau.
me
chateau?
popeeee
shit, forgot you haven’t heard about it before. i’ll drop a pin.
moments later, her phone buzzed with the location where pope was and she decided to go there. pope meant well and she really did think it was nice he wanted to look out for her. maybe this could build a lost friendship back up.
every event from the night before started to replay in her head and she winced, thinking of how drunk she’d gotten. to be honest, it wasn’t that bad, but it is for someone who’s used to getting straight a’s.
after sneaking out through her window, she climbed into her father’s truck and drove to the pin, wincing anytime something touched where a bruise was.
“pope!” she called, looking around.
when no one answered, she texted him, where you at?
popeeee
sit out on the porch, i’ll be right out.
she sent a thumbs up emoji before proceeding to sit down on a nearby couch. she was starting to feel her stomach throbbing and she brought her shirt up enough to see the gash that had formed. it was a mix of a bunch of different colors, practically teasing her as she stared at it.
she reached to touch it but heard a breath. she looked up and saw jj, who had stepped back. “y/n?”
pulling her shirt down, she stood. “shit…”
“what happened?”
“no, it’s fine. just fell this morning. i’m really clumsy,” she fake laughed.
“i know that’s not what happened,” jj swallowed. “i’ve seen a gash like that before, and it doesn’t come from falling.”
“what? so you’re mr. medic genius?”
he rolled his eyes. “no, but i get into fights all the time. plus, my dad can give me those gashes a lot, too.”
her heart dropped. “what?”
he didn’t seem to understand her questioning, he just continued. “so if you got into a fight, it’s okay to tell me.”
“jj…” she stood, reaching up to grab his face with her hands. not until then had jj noticed her black eye and the scratch on her face.
he simply only swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“your dad does it to you, too?” she asked.
if looks could kill, the look jj suddenly gave would be the #1 criminal in the united states. “too?”
she stepped back, hands withdrawing from his face. “‘m sorry…”
“too?” he repeated. 
“jj, i didn’t mean it. i just wasn’t thinking,” she defended. “my dad would never put his hands on me.”
jj looked like he’d gotten slapped in the face and she winced, hissing. “sorry, i didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
he shrugged. “i just want you to be honest with me… did he, or did he not do this to you?”
tears aligned themselves along her waterline, but she blinked them away. “he was just a little intoxicated last night, ’s all.”
he tore his hands from his sides to his head, breathing aggressively. when he dropped them, he yelled, “i’m gonna kill him.”
“no, jj,” she cried, grabbing his hands that had been clenched into fists. “you will do no such thing.”
shaking his head, he stepped out of her hold. “you should’ve let me walk you completely in. i would’ve beat his ass.”
“jj, the confidence is cute and all, but even if you’ve won a million fights in your life, you still wouldn’t beat my dad.” 
he sighed. “i just don’t understand how a father could do that to a daughter like that.”
her heart fluttered, suppressing a shy smile. “so, um… your dad does it to you, too?”
rolling his eyes, he sat back on the couch. “i don’t want to talk about it.”
“neither did i,” she protested and he gave her a shit, you’re right stare.
“well, he’s done it since my mom left me,” he said, eyes distant in time.
she nodded. 
“do you have a mom?”
biting her lip, she shook her head. “she died a few years ago. she wasn’t enough to stop my father from hurting me. he did it ever since i was old enough to walk.”
“damn,” he sighed. “i’m sorry.”
“it’s cool. mom would be proud of me. the heywards are the only people who know about dad being like this.”
“is that why you’re so close to pope?”
“mostly.”
he hummed, turning to the side awkwardly. “you know, if you ever need anything, i’m always here. i don’t want to be just a random guy you met at a party.”
“and you’re not,” she told him. “you took care of me. you made sure i had a ride home. hell, you even brought me back with my childhood best friend—“ she sighed, grabbing his hands. “and most of all, you listened.”
he nodded, taking a deep breath. “of course i took care of you, y/n. i like you.”
she blinked.
“i don’t want to rush anything. i usually don’t get sentimental about anyone. not even my friends. usually, i just like to, you know, sleep with someone one night and never look their way again. but, if taking it slowly is the way i have to to steal your heart, then i will wait as long as i have to.”
 a tear rolled down her face and she stood, grabbing his hand. he stood, melting into her touch. she just grabbed his face within her hands and whispered, “i like you too, jj.”
with the moment they stared into each other’s eyes—so close together, yet so far apart, jj gripped her waist and crashed their lips together. she froze in shock for a moment and a feeling of worry built up in his stomach, but it immediately disappeared when he felt her kiss him back.
it was so different than anyone he’d ever kissed. he’d usually let it be sloppy and open mouthed, quick and rough, but this time, all he wanted—no, forget wanted. all he needed was to be endlessly closer for an endless amount of time. he took his time with it, making sure to kiss every bit of her mouth. he feared that if he missed a spot, he’d never get to kiss it again, so he let his lips roam around hers for as long as they embraced each other, dragging his lips along hers. she was taken aback by the way he kissed her—so gentle but so needy. he held her like she was the most fragile thing in the world, but at the same time, was the sturdiest. he didn’t want to pull away, so he didn’t. spending minutes like that, letting himself run out of breath before taking a deep one through his nose. maybe it was for the rush, or maybe he was just getting so distracted.
she’d kissed quite a few boys before, but none of them had she ever wanted as much as jj maybank.
at last, she pulled away, lightheaded and in need of actual air. jj didn’t realize how much he need the air either until he’d been gasping for breath, still clinging onto her perfectly.
“that was…” she said, trying to find breath.
“wow,” he laughed. she thought it was the most perfect way to describe it—wow.
she laughed, too, leaning her forehead against his and placing one last final peck to his lips. he smiled, looking deeply into her eyes. “you’re the most perfect girl---”
“jj, are you kidding me?!” they heard. whipping around, she was met with pope’s awkward stance, closing his eyes and his ears. “every girl you meet, you get all drooly for.”
she frowned, realizing pope must be right.
but jj just simply scoffed, shaking his head. “it’s really different this time.”
just like the kiss was.
and she looked back into jj’s eyes, smiling, and realized, there is no way this boy could possibly be lying.
and he wasn’t.
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© 2023 alimaybankkk
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stayandot8 · 3 months
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Drawn To You
Genre: fluff?? i guess??
Relationship type: idol!(lowkeytsundere)Seungmin x I.N's bestie reader
Important Contents: requested, i hope you enjoy my second Seungmin piece
WC: 4k
masterlist
I’d known Jeongin since we were kids. I was about a year older, but he’d always been there for me since the young days, before he became this huge kpop idol star with his group. But after I went away, our friendship strained. 
The problem was that I didn’t tell him that I applied for school overseas in America. I needed to get out of our town, on to bigger things, and that upset him. We told each other everything. Everything…except that. He understood, like the amazing friend he was, but as he pursued his own dream, his time was harder to come by. The questions about America came fewer and slower, phone calls went from everyday to twice a week to once a month until the only time I heard from him was when he thought of me in between recording sessions. He always texted me after recording, something about needing to know I was behind him. I always knew he’d be a famous singer. His voice was always unique. Now the world was getting to see what I already knew as fact. And I was damn proud of him. I made sure to tell him every chance I got. Or at least I tried, because those opportunities came fewer and fewer as the years went on.
 What I didn’t realize until I was already there was that America was not what I wanted. But my family had already paid my way through for me to get there and start, so I owed it to them to finish what I started. No, begged them for. I had to do it. Not just for me, but for them too now. And when I finished, degree in hand (well, suitcase), I traipsed back to Korea like my life depended on it. Why? Well… because it did.
The almost 16 hour plane ride was full of going from one book to another to my music apps and podcasts, fighting the impending boredom that came with the “adventure” in a tin can in the sky. The in-house wifi was holding up as best it could and my laptop was on the brink of overheating for the last hour. My mother’s last text before I took off popped up on my side window of messages. 
Mother: Little Jeonginnie is blowing up big now! You would be so proud of him. He’s come so far since you’ve last seen him. 
Jeonginnie?? I remembered the nickname she gave him and couldn’t stop the gagging noise from escaping in the middle of standing in line to board. The woman in front of me gave me a weird look. I stared back at her, glaring until she turned back around and started walking. I grimaced at my phone before I turned it on Airplane mode and put it in my pocket. What could be so different about him now? Had he grown that much? He couldn’t be much taller. I had always been taller than him, ever since we were kids. My mother blamed my father, saying it was his side of the family that gave me such a…problem. But I didn’t mind. It made it easier to scare off the boys I didn’t like. It also made it harder to find ones I did  like that weren’t intimidated but… whatever. This was the way it had always been.
My mom has been looking forward to this day since I left, crying on the phone that she was ‘so excited to have her baby home again’ that I was sure she would chain me to the kitchen sink to prevent me from leaving again. She claimed the house hadn’t been the same since I left, and by the looks of it, it was obvious. It was missing its usual…lived-in charm that I had apparently brought to it. The pillows were too erect, too fluffed. The kitchen counter was too clean, not a stain nor trace of midnight ramen seasoning on the counter. It wasn’t quite…home. It was a space for my parents to entertain. Which is exactly how I ended up face to face with Jeongin in my living room, arms wide open and looking like… a man. 
He was tall now too. His hair was blonde now and styled, even on his day off. It looked good. And his arms had filled out, no longer the sticks they used to be. Someone had gotten him into working out. Must be his older members… At least his smile was the same. Bright as ever, he stumbled over towards me and threw his arms around me with all his might. 
“Noona! You’re back! I can’t believe you’re back, I never thought I’d be home to see it.” His dimples showed so deep that I didn’t realize how much I had missed the sight of them. They were the kind you could swim in, the kind you wanted to roll out like they were made of dough. Which explained why his fans and members called him Baby Bread. His whole face was squishy just like it had been when I left. Except now, the rest of him wasn’t nearly as squishy. It made me second guess myself a little too much. I shook my head, trying to shake the thought. 
“Yeah yeah yeah. I came back because I saw you all over the internet, even over in America! What could you possibly be doing over there?!”
“It’s my band! We’re going everywhere now, I can’t stand to believe it sometimes. I still have a hard time believing it. But you’re finally back from school! How was your last year?! Tell me everything!”
Thus began a very long and tiring story of my senior year of college, everything from the parent-safe topics like classes and academics and American friends I made until our mothers left for the kitchen to make dinner. Then we moved onto the not so safe for parents ears, such as the hookups, the drama, and all of the bullshit that went down without my mother’s knowledge. He laughed when he was supposed to, he nodded at appropriate times, it was like he was using his media training on me and I couldn't help but laugh. He was mid-question and he stopped to tilt his head.
“What? What’s so funny?” He smiled again when I couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. You’ve gotten very good at listening. If I remember correctly, you weren’t able to sit still and listen to me say more than three sentences at a time.”
“That’s because you learned how to tell an interesting story. College was good for something!” That dazzling smile emerged again and I was thinking those weird thoughts again. It wasn’t that I had thoughts of possibly liking him, it was just that the thought of it didn’t repulse me like it once did. It puzzled me. 
“Yeah yeah yeah. So tell me about your group! What’s everyone like? Is it true what they say online about you guys?”
“Well, I don’t know what you’ve seen so I don’t know whether to say yes or no.” He laughed and sat back in his chair. “But things have been going really well! We’re starting up our tour right now, we have our first stop in two days in Seoul. You should come! I want you to meet everyone.” I’d read a little about them while on the plane, just to take a peak at what my friend had been up to in the years I’d been gone. There were eight of them now, and they all brought something special to the group, at least according to Stay, their fans. I knew who was who and that was about it. It was like I had met them already. “Come on, Noona. You can meet everyone tomorrow if you want to, before the concert. Auntie can come too.” I looked at him with wide eyes and hit his leg when he started to crack up.
“You are not funny, Yang Jeongin.”
His inhaling laughter told me he thought otherwise.
*
Strolling by our favorite cafe, the memories came back to me in waves. Between Jeongin cracking jokes about people who were walking by and me trying to keep him from wandering into the street. Our relationship had shifted constantly from friends to siblings of sorts. Being an only child hadn’t provided a lot of opportunities for the older sister types of activities I had itched for so I happened to find them with Jeongin. Everything I had dreamed about being an older sister, I had with him. It helped me feel…complete somehow.
Jeongin thought later that it would be better if I met some of the members little by little. But then I recieved a text countering that idea, stating that the when the others heard what was happening, they jump in the car bfore he could protest. He decided that he wanted to bring us all here, a place of comfort to me and somewhere he’d always wanted to bring them. He had told me the ones he lived with were the ones that would really test how I would get along with the rest of them since they were the ones who were ‘harder to read’ or something.  I didn’t know which ones were the ones he lived with, only knew their names and faces in the group. I wondered if I’d need to do anything special to impress them or being my simple self would do. Jeongin told me to just be myself,  but if these guys were anything like him, they didn’t really care who I was. They probably had people fawning over them constantly so maybe as long as I acted like I didn’t care, it might turn out in my favor. Not that I really cared if they liked me, but it’s always nice to make friends. 
Walking up to the place I saw them all sitting at a table just chatting, like they were just regular people. They all had hats on, some backwards, and a mix of tshirts and sweats and jeans. One that I recognized, Lee Know, had his hat on backwards and his blonde hair was peeking out. It was then that I realized what Stays were talking about with him; he was prettier in real life. Like, a scary kind of pretty. 
Felix on the other hand, was an ethereal kind of pretty with a soft exterior to balance Lee Know’s sharp features. It was a quick reveal to why they called him sunshine. Even with his dark hair, he radiated warmth and empathy. Like you could tell him anything and he would do everything in his power to help or just to listen. His hat was on sideways, like the boy next to him had moved it and he just hadn’t changed it back.
The boy next to him had his hat on straight. I gathered that one was Seungmin because of his baseball t-shirt. Stays knew he loved baseball, saying he would’ve become a baseball player if he hadn’t chosen this path in life. He was the only one watching me walk up to them, catching my eye and staring holes into my head. I didn’t drop his gaze, having the gut feeling that he was watching me for a reason. I just couldn’t point a finger as to why.
Right at the perfect moment, Jeongin turned around to see me approaching, his broad smile only growing wider. 
“Over here!” He was waving me over to the empty seat beside him and Chan, a plate in front of it with a croissant on its center. A glass full of cream-colored liquid was placed in front of that empty seat, waiting for me. He still knew some things about me, proving the years of friendship withstood the idol training I was sure he went through. It didn’t break the kindness in him. 
His smile didn’t fade the closer I got. In fact, I would argue that it got bigger and brighter, only matched by Felix’s with his blonde hair shining in the sun. They all stood when I finally approached the table, awaiting formal introductions from Jeongin.
“Everyone, this is my childhood best friend. She just moved back from the States and she’s coming to the show tonight so we have to do our best for her.” He was still beaming even after he finished, and all the boys took their turns introducing themselves in order around the table. Seungmin was the last, confirming my suspicion that he was the one that was seated beside me. He said his name, not quite smiling or even a polite grimace like Lee Know had. No, he was just staring at me with wide eyes.
“Do I have something on my face?” I whispered to him, trying to break free of his glare. He shook his head. 
“No.” And with that he sat back down, staring at his mug with a slight rosy blush creeping along his cheeks.
Well that was simple enough. I sat back down in the chair and reached for the glass in front of me. “Thanks for ordering for me, I can’t believe you remembered.”
“I was just hoping that your tastebuds hadn’t changed. You’ve been abroad now, you could have acquired an American tongue.”
“Nope, still the same old same old for me. I’m not so easily influenced by others, Innie, you know this.”
“This is true.” He turned to the others. “She once had the whole class trying to tell her that she had something in her hair and she refused to believe it until someone held up a mirror for her!” He started laughing, reliving the memory. The rest of the group chuckled along with him. Then Chan spoke up.
“So what was Jeongin like in school? We only know a little bit, but what was he like as a kid?”
“Oh he was something else. Some days he would be the best little angel ever and others, he would be bouncing off the walls. I never knew what kind of friend I was getting each day. He was a wild card.” I smiled back at Jeongin. “But he’s better now. Now he’s all grown up and singing and dancing with you guys. It's fun to watch.”
“I can’t wait to hear what you think about the show tonight.” The short, dark-haired one, Han, piped up excitedly. “We’ve been working on it for a while. I’m just excited to show Stay. They’re going to love it.”
“Stay is-”
“Your fan base. I know. I might have done some research on the plane ride back.” Jeongin nodded, impressed.
“What else did you find in your ‘research’?” Hyunjin asked. Stay was right, he was prettier in person. Pictures didn’t do him justice. Pictures didn’t do any of them justice. 
“Oh, this and that. I saw something about you being a painter and Chan doesn’t sleep.”
“That about sums me up.” Chan laughed, Hyunjin along with him nodding. “What else did you find?”
“Let’s see… Lee Know-” The boy perked up, now listening closely. “-seems cold but cares the most. Also a great dancer.” Lee Know nodded. “Changbin works out a lot and is quite loud. Can’t wait to find out if that’s actually true or not.”
“It is.” Jeongin rolled his eyes. I laughed. 
“Han is also loud but very funny. And Felix is the cuddle bug.” Felix nodded along with Han. 
“Stay knows us pretty well.”
“And Seungmin…” I paused, not knowing which Stay fact to bring up first. Seungmin was watching me think, like he could watch all of the thoughts going around and around in my head. It was almost like a challenge. “Seungmin is a mystery. He can rap but he doesn’t unless asked. Stay is waiting for a rap part for him, by the way. He’s a ‘quiet-carer’, like Lee Know. And he says some of the most out-of-pocket stuff anyone has ever heard, making him hilarious as well.” Seungmin’s lip twitched, cracking into a smirk. 
“You’ve got it.” He continued smirking, watching my lips move as I spoke. They flickered between my eyes and the other features of my face. It was like I was hypnotized. I couldn’t look away from his features, his eyes locking on mine and watching my every move. I felt my heart beating against my chest bone, hitting it in time with every second that passed by. And then, all of sudden, it stopped beating altogether. And then it was just us. We weren’t outside anymore, it was real-life tunnel vision. He watched me and I watched him just looking at each other. 
And then a sharp cough from somewhere in the distance. 
Seugnmin broke the contact first, looking everywhere to find where the sound that dare interrupt our moment had come from. 
Jeongin had let out one of his signature grandfather coughs again, his eyes wide open watching me and his band mate. 
“I don’t think Seungmin-hyung is that mysterious. And I live with him. Just stay out of his stuff and you’ll be fine.” The boys nodded in agreement, not paying attention to their younger members. “That’s a little tougher for some than others.” He let out another pointed cough. 
“It was ONE TIME.” Felix exclaimed, righteous with indignation and the others bursted out laughing, including Seungmin. I couldn’t help but notice his cheeks pushing up to his eyes when he laughed for real, as opposed to his chuckle earlier while talking to me directly.  
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. 
*
This place was packed, people of all ages everywhere in various colorful outfits and carrying lightsticks were bouncing all over the place on their way out of the stadium. Girls running to the merchandise lines after the show to grab whatever was left, older moms peering over the crowd to find whomever they were looking for, and venue staff were scattered all around the place, the energy from the concert still setting the place abuzz. 
The show was amazing. I didn’t realize how talented Jeongin was. I knew he would go far in whatever he decided to do in life, but I never knew how far he was really going. It was palpable; the boys loved him. All of them. The way they teased him was reminiscent of how I teased him growing up. He really found a family in all of them. I was happy for him, really.
I watched off to the side in clear view of all of them surrounded by some very passionate fans, bound to get rowdier as the boys kept making their way over. Jeongin made sure to shout me out in his speech in the beginning, saying that he was so excited to perform in front of his childhood friends so as not to make it too obvious who I was. Seungmin found me almost immediately because he was dancing near my side. It was just like earlier; my eyes were drawn to him. The way his body moved, I couldn’t help but watch him even if I was supposed to be watching all of them. My excuse to Jeongin would be that he was the only one right in front of me, but I knew the truth.
 He was doing it on purpose. There was no way he wasn’t. Because everytime he came over my way, he found me again and waved to everyone around me. There was a small voice in the back of my head that was telling me it was meant for me. Or it could have been the smirk that followed his big smile while he waved to everyone around me. While he may not have been looking directly at me when he got over to my side, he was definitely staring me down when he walked away and I watched him until his attention was elsewhere. The more he walked over to our side, the more the fans around me jumped and waved their arms, trying to get anyone’s attention from the stage. When they waved their arms, they narrowly missed my head, sometimes knocking me and causing me to stumble into someone else beside me. Some of these fans are nuts. These hits didn’t go unnoticed by Seungmin though. The way his face fell when they bumped into me caused his big smile to falter, sending the corners of his mouth downwards. The joy on his face disappeared as he stared in our direction, not taking his eyes off our section. He didn’t walk away until I stood back up and returned my attention to him. 
Weirdo.
I was waiting near the stage until a burly man wearing a Stray Kids t-shirt came in and waved me over to take me backstage. Down the dark hallway lit by the same fluorescent lights as the main stage was by now, I spotted a taller figure with dark hair leaning on the wall a ways away from us. He was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt from what I could tell while being so far away. As we drew closer, he spotted us as well and stood straight, coming to stand right in front of me. He smirked again, just as he had all night long but there was no malice coming from it. No, it was just a mild curiosity. He opened his mouth, possibly to say something snarky as his smirk suggested but just then, Jeongin appeared coming out of a door to our right. 
“Noona! What did you think? Were we any good?” Jeongin smiled brightly, eyes excitedly flicking from one to the other and back again, trying to find my answer. He reached for me, his hand grabbing mine quicker than I could realize what exactly he was reaching for. Seungmin’s gaze darted straight to where our hands connected and his stare could’ve started a fire. If looks could kill, I wouldn't have wanted to be Jeongin at that moment. His deep brown eyes had lost their warmth, void of any playful sparkle I had seen until now as Jeongin dragged me into their dressing room.
*
Next thing I knew, I found myself sitting on the Stray Kids Tour bus on the way back to the hotel for the night instead of in my car, heading back home. And somehow, Seungmin had found himself sitting beside me. Jeongin had escorted me onto the bus, but Seungmin had taken advantage of Jeongin going through his bag of belongings in another section of seats and slid in to occupy the one next to me. I just stared at him, Jeongin unaware of what had just occurred as he continued to shuffle through his bag.
“You’re in my seat.” was all Seungmin said to my stare. 
“So that means you have to sit as close to it as possible?”
“Yes.” And then he put his headphones on. I suspected he used this to avoid Jeongin’s questions because he had just put his bag away. I looked up just in time to see him look confusedly as Seungmin, who had his eyes glued to his phone now. Jeongin looked at me and I shrugged. He did the same and sat in the seat directly in front of me, lightly chuckling. I leaned forward, trying my best to ignore Seungmin’s thigh that was dangerously close to mine. 
“Why is he sitting next to me?”
“I don’t know. He’s a weird one.”
“He said I was sitting in his seat.” Jeongin’s brows furrowed. 
“He doesn’t sit there. He sits near the front most times.” 
I sat back in my seat, bewildered. I nudged Seungmin’s arm until he took his headphones off and when he did, he raised his eyebrow at me. 
“You don’t sit here. What gives?”
“I’m waiting for you to figure it out.” He said with another smirk, a permanent feature around me.
I sat back, stunned and taken aback. He just placed his headphones back on his ears, satisfied with his answer and returned to his phone. 
This was going to be a fun ride.
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notiddygxthgf · 9 months
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6. 佐藤 (sato)
★ pairings: rindou haitani x f!reader
★ synopsis: rindou haitani is drawn to your purity, and he's determined to be the one who takes it from you.
★ c.w.: smut, slow burn, corruption kink, obsession, slightly toxic relationship, princess complex, rindou is a huge simp for reader lmao, but he would never admit it, reader is an innocent lil virgin child, ran is the supportive older brother we all need. tw: use of the name y/n (im sorry I had no other choice).
★ a/n: good afternoon people of whoville. I may or may not have downed a Buzzball my roommate got me as a gift on an empty stomach at 10 AM today because I thought my mom would be coming. Idk why I keep underestimating white girl liquor, that shit has me fucked up every time. ANYWAY!! that being said, this chap is obv beta, unedited, virgin. I hope u all enjoy!
★ w.c.; 4k-ish
chapter index
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THE GIRL HAD SOMETHING CLUTCHED tightly in her small hand. It was a crinkled brown baggie. Rindou eyed it up rather dubiously.
“Good morning,” he said, though it sounded rather uncertain.
The two of you were standing beneath the tree where he had met you the last time, the one in front of your apartment. Rindou was wearing a baggy sweater and jeans. You were wearing a similar sweater over your uniform, oddly enough, but it looked a lot cuter on you.
She dropped the little baggie into the palm of his hand. 
“I made it for you,” She said.
He tilted his head. A quick scan down the side of the bag revealed that her statement was true. His name was written in girly lettering on the bottom of it.
The corner of his lip twitched. “What’s this?” He asked.
“Lunch for you!” She answered rather cutely, putting her hand over his and closing his fingers around the bag. 
Rindou paused, glancing down at the bag and then back up at her. Back down at the bag, and back up at her. He felt himself begin to smile.
I want her to fall in love with me .
“I got your text,” she fiddled with the strings of her bag. “Figured I’d make you one more sandwich to eat. It’s not the best, but–”
“Thanks, angel,” He grinned. “Wanna eat together today?”
It became something of a ritual. Every morning, Rindou would wake up an hour and a half earlier than one normally would for school. He would make the trek to her apartment – yes, trek, he had a bike but he didn’t want to use it. Not because he wanted to save gas or anything, he just wanted to stall. He would wait for her beneath the tree outside of her place – usually only for about a few minutes. You were very punctual.
And every morning while you walked down the sidewalk to him, he would make note of the accessories you wore with your uniform. Yesterday, a headband. Today, who knows. It seemed incredibly mundane, but he enjoyed doing it. 
She would hand him his lunch – usually a grilled cheese sandwich, sometimes something else, but always some sort of sandwich – and he would walk her to school. The little baggie almost always had a note of some sort inside of it. 
She didn’t know he had been collecting them at home, of course, but that wasn’t the point.
He liked to think he did a good job of making you feel safe. The people at school parted like the red sea when you strode through the halls. That was because he usually wasn’t too far behind you, but still.
Eventually, word of mouth spread. She began to be known as “Rindou’s Girl”.
Rindou, shockingly enough, did nothing to stop these rumors. He didn’t care if it made people steer clear of her. No, in fact, much of what he did spurred the rumors onward. It was almost too perfect.
He would meet up with her between classes, walking her here and there whenever it aligned with his own schedule. Even if he had gang duties to attend to, he would make sure to be back in time to see his ‘girl’. 
Rindou would have his arm thrown over her shoulder while the two of them bickered down the hall. Nine out of ten times, she would punch him in the side. He didn’t care. It was well worth the (nearly nonexistent) pain.
Again, it was almost too perfect.
Almost.
“I think you like her,” Ran noted. He stabbed the straw a little deeper into his milkshake, breaking up a few chunks somewhere near the bottom of it. He sucked harshly on the other end of the straw, and when nothing came up, he furrowed his brows.
“I think you might be fuckin’ stupid,” Rindou offered back. He hadn’t bothered to order a milkshake of his own, sticking to a plate of steamed veggies and beef. He had broken his diet for her, and now his stomach pudge was paying the price. “I told you what my intentions were with her.”
“Mmh,” Ran popped one of Rindou’s beef chunks into his mouth. “Your intentions can mean one thing. Don’t matter if what happens is unintentional.”
Rindou took a brief moment to ponder his older brother’s wise words, and very quickly came to the realization that they didn’t make a lick of sense. “Ran, what the fuck does that mean?”
“Means… you can say whatever you want, in theory. Don’t mean that’s what’s actually goin’ on,” Ran picked up his chopsticks and tapped them gently against the side of his ceramic plate. “I could believe I’m, fuckin’... Queen Elizabeth. Don’t mean I actually am. Don’t lie to yourself.”
Rindou leaned back against the leather covering on his booth seat, crossing his arms with a stubborn scowl. “I’m not lyin’ to no one, Ran, It really is not that deep.”
Ran quirked a brow at that, a mischievous glint flashing briefly through his eyes. “Really? So, you’re just casually leaving an hour early every day to walk her to school? Just Buddies? Just casually obsessing over her personal life? Just casually–”
“We are buddies,” Rindou cut his brother short. Technically, that wasn’t a lie. No label, no problem. 
Ran took another sip from his stubborn milkshake and actually succeeded this time. “Sure, yeah,” he teased. “Buddies that just casually make out from time to time, right?”
“Exactly,” Rindou accepted it. At least it was something. “Kinda like the 13 girls you keep on rotation in your phone. Just buddies.”
“Those are fuckbuddies,” Ran rolled his eyes. “Not the same. Unless you’re pipin’ her, in which case–”
Rindou’s frustration seemed to be growing by the second, as seemed to be the trend with Ran. “I’m surprised you’re so invested in my love life – or lack thereof.”
“Woah,” Ran whistled. “ Thereof . That’s a big word for you.”
“You should invest the energy you put towards that into getting a fuckin’ degree,” Rindou snapped back.  
“I’m just saying, for someone who claims to have no emotions attached to this chick, it seems uncharacteristically emotional to go threaten her bullies after school,” The older of the two noted with a pleased hum. “Or how you claim to only wanna use ‘er, but judgin’ by the way you described your little…” Here he paused to wave his hands around, like he was trying to find the words to express his thoughts. “Session… yesterday, I think you’re totally into her.”
The booth the two brothers sat in was small, crammed into a corner in the back of the restaurant. It seemed even smaller now that Rindou was being faced with the daunting possibility of catching feelings for his prey.
“That’s literally not even true,” Rindou tried to defend himself.
Ran raised a brow. “You went through her diary.”
“I was curious,” Rindou replied.
“Why the hell would you be curious if you didn’t give a shit about her?” Ran offered in response, and Rindou hated that he was actually right about something for once. “I think it’s a little more than just a game.”
Rindou knitted his brows together, “I’m just ‘tryna get inside her head.”
“You can barely even get in ‘ya own head half the time, dumbass,” Ran leaned in conspiratorially, his tone dropping to a mock whisper. “You should ask her to the festival if you’re just buddies. I hear the whole town’s goin’.”
Rindou groaned, though his cheeks turned slightly pink. “I’m not goin’ to no fuckin’ fair, bro.”
“Girls love that shit,” Ran pulled his straw out of the shake to point it towards his brother – who tried in vain to ignore the droplet of shake that was flung into his face. “Wanna win her over? Make her feel special.”
Rindou’s chin jutted out defiantly. “I’m gonna win her over. ‘Jus… trying to figure it all out.”
Ran set his milkshake to the side. “Right,” He hummed, sucking the leftover shake off the straw and popping it into the glass. “Well, when you figure things out, extend your girl an invite. Give her a night to remember.”
Rindou sighed, feeling the resistance melt away from his shoulders. “How about I extend my foot up that ass?”
Ran grinned, ruffling his brother’s hair in what would have regularly been considered an affectionate gesture if Rindou weren’t already at his wit’s end with him. 
“Just lookin’ out for you, bro,” he remarked. “Careful playin’ with fire like that. Too close and you can get burnt.”
“Look out for AIDs,” Rindou huffed. “I hear that’s an epidemic these days. You might be in danger.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” Ran’s grin didn’t even falter. “You should go to that fair anyway. ‘M havin’ my girl over that night.”
“Which one?” The blond rolled his eyes.
Ran sat back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest and releasing a content sigh. “Dunno,” he answered. “I’ll find out when she shows up.”
.
Rindou had decided that he was going to do it today. He was going to walk up to her and ask if she would attend the festival with him tonight. Inevitably, of course, she would say yes. She would say yes, and she would thank Rindou for offering to go with her in the first place.
“I can’t,” The girl lowered her eyes with a frown. “I’m sorry, Rindou.”
His smile dropped. He shook his head. “What?” He asked.
He didn’t think he heard that correctly.
“I already have a date to the festival,” She added, like he was supposed to know that.
He raised a brow at her as she shut her locker behind her. “Who?”
She looked him up and down, gaze climbing over his shirt that most definitely violated the dress code. “Um, a kid who sits behind me in history class… why?”
“You never told me about that,” Rindou pursed his lips, suddenly very angry at this faceless man. 
She shrugged. You know, like it was casual. “Never came up in conversation. I felt bad saying no… so I told him okay.”
On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was clawing at the fucking floor. He looked down the now empty hallway, and then back at her. 
“Cancel on him,” He said.
“What?” Her eyes widened at the proposition. “No, why would I do that?”
“What’s his name?” Rindou asked her, leaning down to get a better look at her face. 
Rather than answering his question directly, the girl looked away, tugging on the sleeves of her sweater. “He wants to walk me home today… if that’s okay.”
His eyes shot wide open. In his gut, a deep, rancid feeling began to bubble. It felt as if a hole had opened up somewhere deep within, boiling his blood and making him squirm. 
Is this jealousy?
He thought about the kid walking her home instead of him. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. That was his thing. 
Still, attempting to keep his cool because that’s what Rindou Haitani did in the face of uncertainty, he licked his lips and nodded, “That’s fine, ‘jus figured I’d ask you. My date bailed.”
That was a lie, of course. There was never a date. He was only trying to soften the blow.
Her words were like a knife into his ego. He thought about her showing up with this… this kid, holding his hand. Would he try any funny business with her? Not like he cared, of course, he just didn’t like someone toying around with something he had very clearly called dibs on.
His comment must have missed its mark on her, as she looked at him with all the sorrow of a child that had just been caught stealing a cookie from the jar. 
“I’m really sorry, Rindou. I can’t just flake on him, that’s not right,” She sighed. “But the ladies love you. I’m sure you’ll figure something out!”
I don’t want them, briefly flashed through his mind. I want you.
“Yeah,” He replied, sucking his teeth. His eyes had already wandered down the hallway. “I’ll figure it out.”
.
The rush in the hallway had died down a bit after the dismissal bell had rung. There were faint echos of chatter and laughter somewhere down the hall, maybe even in a different wing. Rindou leaned casually against the wall, attempting to blend in with the flow. 
The wounds on his ego were still fresh, the sting of jealousy gnawing at him on the inside. So, when the coast was mostly clear, he seized his chance. He slipped through the classroom door that had been left slightly ajar, steps silent as he made his way to the teacher’s desk.
She was an older woman with grey hair and a colorful sweater on. He recognized her as his brother’s old history teacher… and also from the picture he had snapped of the girl from apartment 12A’s schedule.
That’s all she was. Just some chick from apartment 12A. It hurt a little less when he thought about it that way, though it made it a little difficult to justify his actions.
Her back was turned, but she spun around when Rindou knocked twice on the cool surface of her desk. Her eyes went wide as they locked onto his figure. 
“Boo,” Rindou grinned.
“Haitani, what are you doing here?” The woman’s hand fluttered to her chest. Her breath had already gone ragged. “I already told your brother that there was nothing I could have done about him failing– It was administrative, I swea–”
“I’m not here for him,” Rindou sighed, folding his arms and stepping forward. His eyes scanned the room. “You got a ‘[Y/N] [L/N]’ in here during final period, yeah?”
The teacher’s expression shifted from panic to confusion. Slowly, she nodded, still looking at him like a deer in headlights. 
He tried to play it cool. Like he didn’t already know that after practically memorizing her schedule.
“Where does she sit?” Rindou asked, tone hardly veiling his true intentions.
With a trembling hand, she pointed towards a seat by the window. It was empty, of course, but Rindou still nodded, making a mental location of the seat. He could almost picture her there, the sunlight playing in her hair while she absentmindedly twirled a strand around her finger.
His interest shifted, and he inquired further, “Who’s the kid who sits behind ‘er?”
The teacher seemed a little more at ease with this question, but she was still nervous. Poor thing.
“Behind her?” She trailed off. “That would be that quiet kid… what’s his name… Sato, I think. Black hair, big glasses.”
Her vague description painted a vivid image of Sato in Rindou’s mind, glasses perched on his nose, absorbed in his own little world behind her. He probably fantasized about her, little pervert…
He was the only one who was allowed to do that.
“Thanks,” Rindou nodded his gratitude to her. Before he turned to leave, he hesitated. Slowly, he pivoted back towards the teacher, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Oh, by the by,” He hummed. “I start this class soon. Figured I should stop by and get to know my teacher-to-be.”
The old woman’s brows shot up in surprise. “Tomorrow?” She thought aloud. “But… you’re not on the roster.”
Rindou’s lips curled up at that. “You should have that fixed,” he replied.
Then he was out the door like nothing had happened.
.
Rindou’s patience had reached a breaking point. Standing behind the tree he knew far too well – the one he stood before every morning at the same time, his heart pounded. He gazed dutifully at the apartment complex where he knew his target would be around this time.
The school was a 20-30 minute walk. He had left the school around 15 minutes later than the other two had so that he might get there in time to catch the kid coming back.
And there he was, standing no higher than 5’3, exchanging goodbyes with the girl from 12A. His girl from 12A. 
Wait. No, that’s not what he meant.
The door closed. Sato smoothed his hands over the front of his uniform, then stepped away. As the boy returned from her doorstep, an unsuspecting prey. He treaded down the concrete path, turned onto the sidewalk where Rindou was hidden, and approached the tree unknowingly.
Rindou stuck his foot out.
Sato tripped over it, falling to the ground rather unceremoniously, undoubtedly scraping the pale, unblemished skin on his arms and palms. Kid probably never had to defend himself a day in his life.
Today would be a great day for him to start.
Sato’s head jerked to the side, visibly disoriented. Before he could comprehend what had happened to him, Rindou landed his second blow, a kick to his gut that left him gasping for air. 
He was glad he had decided to wear his Doc Martens today.
“The hell are you ‘doin with her, huh?” Rindou’s voice was a low growl, edged with danger. His eyes bored into Sato, aflame with an emotion that bordered on madness.
Once Sato recognized his attacker – and, really, Rindou could see the gears turning in his pretty little head – his eyes went wide. 
“Hait… Haitani?” Sato’s voice was shaky, breathless, words barely forming while he tried to catch his breath. Rindou’s boot struck again, silencing any further attempts at speech.
“How do you know her?” He demanded.
Sato’s glasses now lay a short distance away from him, and he fumbled blindly to retrieve them. Rindou sidestepped, placing his heel on Sato’s wrist and pinning it to the pavement below with a brutality that elicited a yelp from the boy.
“You gone deaf or somethin’?” Rindou tilted his head down at him. “How do you know her?”
He knew exactly how Sato knew her. He would never admit that aloud, though.
“Who?” Sato’s voice quivered with confusion, pain etched over his face.
“The girl whose door you just came from, dumbass,” Rindou’s impatience began to seep through his facade, punctuated by another kick to Sato’s side after he took it off of his wrist. “ How do you know her?”
Sato hurled, arm pressed protectively against the area Rindou had struck. 
“She’s… She’s in my class,” He finally admitted, trembling beneath Rindou in a way that made him feel a lot better about chasing him down. This was always his favorite part. “I thought she was cute, so I…”
Rindou stepped on his back, knocking him back down to earth after he had just gotten onto his hands and knees. “So you asked her out?”
Sato nodded hurriedly.
Rindou’s lips curled up in disbelief. “That was my date, asshole,” He seethed, putting a bit of pressure on his back to keep him down.
He was a squirmy one.
“I’m sorryyyy ,” The kid whined, voice cracking with desperation. “I had no idea, I swear! If I knew I never would have–”
Rindou rolled his eyes at Sato’s excuses. He hated whiners. So much, in fact, that he decided to kick him again. Reaching down, he tugged the boy’s arm up harshly, pressing it against the back of his leg.
One wrong move, and his arm would be broken.
“ Ah –” The nerd grunted, teeth gritted. 
“You’re not going to that festival with her,” Rindou warned him. “You know that, right?”
Sato nodded, peering back at Rindou through pained, teary eyes. “I was stupid, I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I didn’t know she was your girl– girlfriend.”
Rindou pulled on his arm like a warning. “It’s complicated,” he bit out, control slipping a bit while he gave way to the emotions he felt at the prospect of being claimed as someone’s… boyfriend.
Sato’s breath came in ragged bursts. “I’ll never talk to her again, I swear,” He said.
Rindou’s grip on his arm relented, but only slightly. “You’re gonna stay away from her too. Let me hear you got even three feet close to her–”
“We’re in the same… history class,” Sato noted with a grunt.
Rindou stepped harder on his back in response. 
“Switch classes,” he hissed.
“Okay, Okay!” He cried. “I will! I’ll switch, I swear, please don’t hurt me.”
Finally he dropped Sato’s  shaking arm. “Not a word about this to anyone, got it?” he warned him. “I’ll put you on the side of a milk carton.”
Sato’s head bobbed in frantic compliance. 
The younger Haitani stepped back, and the Sato boy immediately scrambled to his feet. Then, without another word, he fled the scene. Ran as fast as his short legs would take him.
In his absence, Rindou sighed, dusting imaginary residue off of his hands and onto his black zip-up hoodie before going the other way.
.
Rindou watched the water turn pink as it ran over his battered knuckles. They were a little sore, but it was nothing he wasn’t used to.
Must have hit his glasses, he thought.
He rubbed some soap into the reddened skin and over his palms, rinsing the grime of his sins away beneath the faucet. He turned the current off, shaking his hands dry. Then, after a brief struggle, reached blindly for his glasses and cologne – popping the cap off and spraying a bit on each of his pulse points.
And on his navel. You know, just for good luck.
The sound of Beyonce’s ‘Naughty Girl’ got louder as he walked towards Ran’s bedroom, carelessly leaving the bathroom door open behind him.
He smoothed his hands over his traditional garb – which he had a particular distaste for, although he knew a traditional festival would require traditional attire. It clashed with his usual style, but he was willing to endure it for the sake of his commitment to a cause. 
It flattered the waist he had been working so hard to thin out, though, so that was nice. 
Flexing his arms downward, Rindou hit a pose in the mirror-desk-thing. 
Ran was sprawled out on his stomach behind Rindou, flipping through a glossy magazine from the comfort of his bed. His hair was done up into a messy bun, a few stragglers cascading down the back of his neck and over his plush Walmart robe. He glanced up at the sight of his younger brother’s choice in attire for the evening.
“Is that my Yukata?” He inquired, sucking his teeth and then turning another page.
“Yeah,” Rindou answered. “You said you weren’t going to the festival. Figured you wouldn’t need it.”
Rindou saw his brother’s brow quirk, though he made no effort to tear his eyes away from the page. “You said you weren’t going either,” Ran remarked.
Rather than glorifying him with a response, Rindou pulled out the chair beneath Ran’s… beauty desk? He didn’t really know what those things were called. Anyway, he made himself comfortable on the seat.
“You’re goin’ all out tonight, huh?” Ran teased, rolling onto his back.
Rindou shook his head. Reaching for Ran’s signature eyeshadow pan – the one that he would never, ever admit to using, but for the sake of this story it should be known that he uses a Covergirl single in the shade Onyx  – he popped the case open. He dabbed the little sponge-brush thing into the pan, applying the deep shade to the outer corners of his eyes. He shaped it into a subtle, smokey point, one that added depth to his gaze.
“Don’t get used to it,” he offered, clicking the single shut and setting it off to the side. 
His attention then turned to his damp hair. He reached for a hair tie he had found on the desk and carefully gathered his blond locks into a fistful. With practiced ease, he tied it up and away from the back of his neck. With the side of his pinky finger, he pulled a few strands out to frame his face. 
The Haitani Slut-Strands were making a comeback.
“She say yes to you when you asked ‘er?” Ran asked somewhere behind him.
Rindou smoothed his hands over the semi-slickback ponytail he’d done. “Nah. Some kid beat me to it.”
He could hear Ran turning the page slowly. “You beat his ass?”
“Maybe,” Rindou grinned.
“I feel, like… so proud,” Ran continued anyway. “Like, this is a proud big brother moment for me. ‘Lil bro, going on his first date with his crush… at 17 years old.”
“Not my first date,” Rindou said, even if it technically was. He wasn’t so sure that the random hookups he’d taken on walks to the park counted. 
“Let me have this,” Ran sighed. “What are you waiting on?”
“Her text,” He answered. He knew it was coming. The festival had started an hour and a half ago. It was only a matter of time before she came crying to him about how this kid she had given a chance decided to stand her up and embarrass her in front of the whole town. Only a matter of time before Rindou would swoop in like Superman and save her night.
On cue, his phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket, turning it on to read the message he had received.
Just now
Pretty Thing: he stood me up :( can u come get me pls
He glanced at it a second time, his smirk deepening. “Looks like I’m needed,” he said, lifting his phone to show his brother the message.
Ran whistled. “This plan seems awfully well-thought for someone who don’t care about this girl.”
Rindou couldn’t help but reply with a hint of amusement, thumbs already working up a text back, “Worry about the girls in your phone first.”
ME: b there in 15 angel
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a/n: Trying not to think about the fact that bc Rindou wants to be a dj he probably listens to like, dubstep or some shit....... also I used the word Yukata here which is Japanese traditional attire to wear to festivals, I looked into it, but like I said im off a Buzzball so if I misused it or was culturally insensitive in any way shape or form it is purely accidental, please let me know and I'll correct! AS always, comment, inbox, let me know how yall feel! I love u bunches &lt;3
I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
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yuquinzel · 11 months
Text
— singularity.
feat. mikage reo. gn!reader. implied fwb. suggestive. i’d call this toxic. wanted to write reo in a new light. thank u user @fallenssun aka rosie for hyping me for this <3
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mikage reo resents you, that much, you are aware of.
maybe hate is too strong of a word. you are afraid to use it. resent rings the right way — the perfect adjective to explain his lasting glares, the twist of his lips followed by dismissive responses whenever you strike a conversation. you catch his eyes on you often, maybe looking for more reasons to abhor you. he doesn’t seem to hide it either, whenever you flash him a smile and he only scowls at you. curse him, he wears it dashingly.
but then again, for reo to resent you so much he can not stay in the same room as you must mean you have done something to be the subject of his bitterness.
that, is where you are clueless.
despite his resentment, reo is quite gentle with you. when he needs to be, at least.
is tragedy a strong word too? your relationship with reo resembles one strikingly. a bloody-eyed tragedy dressed as a daydream in which tongue and limbs entangle and fingers run through disheveled hair, thumbs trace the bruised skin of the other. your vision is blurred and memories are hazy when blinded by euphoria. you can taste nectar on reo’s lips. as much as he resents you, he can not deny you either.
which is why you are still in his life, you conclude. you wonder if you could ever have the power to ruin him like he does with you.
nagi seems to have a strange liking in stirring up the already uncomfortable atmosphere, “think i’m gonna go, ’m too tired. ’ts such a pain seeing you both act like nervous teenagers.”
reo pays him no mind, instead finding the empty ochoko in his hand more interesting. he traces a lazy finger on its outlines, breathing a sigh of content when he pours himself more of the saké the three of you had indulged in.
it had been nagi, who invited you. he did not tell you he would be companied by reo as well. you guess reo must’ve tried convincing him otherwise. but you know you’re just flattering yourself — reo does not think of you as often as delude yourself.
“nagi, shut up. you’re the one who asked me to come. it’s rude to leave after that.” you say with blush-stained cheeks and a slurred voice. you haven’t drunk much. but you have always been a lightweight. nagi had known that, you think.
“come with me, then.” reo stirs in his spot. nagi turns to him. as the snow-haired male speaks the next dragged and slow syllables, you feel reo’s eyes boring into you. in any other occasion, you would’ve pretended to ignore him and shrink in your spot further. but maybe the alcohol has settled in your system. you feel defiant under his gaze. “reo wouldn’t mind, will you?”
it takes countable, pathetic seconds for reo to respond. you would call it hesitation — the second reo steals for an answer, but you know better. “i am going to stay back for some time. you can leave if you want.” he wears an elegant smile, eyes set on you. it is something the poets would call enchanting. a long-drawn breath leaves you. reo’s eyes haven’t left you. not yet.
you know what he’s asking. he won’t verbalise it. you know him. you feel compelled to play along with him. he knows you. you don’t really give him this power over you. he just commands it like it has always been his.
“that so?” nagi waits for your answer.
which comes in the form of a hesitant nod, “i’m staying back too, i don’t wanna go home yet.” you mirror reo’s smile. he pretends to look away and take a sip of his drink.
“ah. can’t be helped. ’m leaving then.” the subtle stretch of lips on nagi’s face and the tone of his voice is a little teasing. one you’d call mocking if you couldn’t hear the fondness behind it.
a part of you feels betrayed. that nagi has left you alone here, fully aware of your shaky relationship with reo. the more braver part of you is thrilled. you blame the alcohol. reo has never initiated a normal time together besides the unassuming “7:30” texts followed by the address of some five-star luxury hotel he must frequent a lot.
you always tell yourself it will be the last time. you always end up going again.
you wonder if this unplanned business is the same one as well. you would be disappointed if so.
the silence that encompasses the quaint tatami room is oddly comforting. there is a faint glow of honey, its origin nothing but the paper lamps hung over the walls. you think the restaurant must’ve been reo’s choice.
“i did not try to convince him to not call you, if you are wondering.” reo begins, and you feel like a part of you — hidden somewhere deep within the confines of your secrets is scanned over and vulnerably exposed. “i was the one who asked him to call you.”
“ah. i didn’t assume anything.” you lie, for reasons you can’t pinpoint. you shouldn’t be drinking more than this, it would backfire later. but it’s a good distraction from being the centre of reo’s attention. it is unnerving. you are not supposed to enjoy it this much.
as if reo can see right through you, he lets a chuckle hum in the air. “i see. that’s good. i was afraid i gave that impression.”
you know he’s doing this on person. that’s just what he does. and you don’t really feel like entertaining his amusement tonight, “you didn’t. but i wouldn’t have come if i knew you asked for me.”
your words take him aback, you hope so. reo clears his throat. “mhm. that’s why i asked nagi to do so. i have something to say.”
“and it couldn’t be over texts?” you lie again, because it is easier than admitting you wanted to see him.
“it couldn’t be over texts.” he repeats. “i had to see you.”
maybe the alcohol was too strong. reo has never been a lightweight like you. and he does not give you the luxury to discern his words further.
“do you hate me?” he mutters after a bated breath.
“i wouldn’t want to see you if i did.”
your finger goes to rest on your lips, brushing a little over the slightly chapped skin. you don’t miss the way reo’s eyes follow your ministrations. you hadn’t expected yourself to answer so quickly, or at all. but it is almost as if it was scripted. like you had hoped for him to be the one in doubts and for once, you being the one who subjects him to your cruelty.
reo lets your words simmer in his mind, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. some phantom words slither through his teeth and rest on his tongue, tasting bittersweet and dangerously addictive.
it has always been like this with you. you have always made him like this.
“do you think i hate you?” he asks. you hold your breath.
“resent would be the right word. you resent me.”
reo sucks in a deep breath, you see yourself behind his eyes. it seemed to you as if he was in pain. you also know you are the cause of it. it is both solemn and exhilarating. you feel bad. but you really don’t.
then he smiles at you. one you have always thought charming and fake. “would you like to go on a walk with me?”
.
.
when nights ascends the city of tokyo, bringing along a rainshower of artificial lights reflecting on the damp asphalt, dwindling the city scrapers with stars and fluttering with the scent of cheap champagne and take-out food— it’s when the city truly comes alive.
reo and you walk side by side. it is a little cold, so reo has you wrapped in his coat. it has been quiet for moments, maybe he is giving you the time to prepare yourself.
“i’m sorry.” the sudden apology hits you like a train. you could not have expected it. your face contorts into something intangible. reo sees your confusion.
“...for what?” you ask when he does not elaborate. you figure he had waited for you to question it.
“for wanting you.”
a nervous breath makes it way past your lips, and you struggle to find it again. the air is knocked out of your lungs just like that, and your heart stalls and stutters in your chest. reo sense your tension. he knows only he is capable of this. he does not say anything about it. if he expects you to question him again, then you’re afraid the conversation will end here.
but then he continues, “i’m sorry for wanting you. and i’m sorry i made it your problem.”
“what? — what are you saying, reo—”
“you have always been the only thing i’ve wanted. so desperately.” this is where reo pauses, to look at you. the contrast to his words and the twist of his lips, paired with the knit between his brows — it’s dangerously charming. “you are also the only thing i’m not good at. it makes me resent you.”
hearing the words resent and you in the same sentence in reo’s voice, directed at you — it would’ve tore you apart, it would picked at your skin until you bleed and fire smokes your lungs. but it would be peaceful. you could accept it and eventually come to terms with it. however long that takes.
but right now, it only leaves you more conflicted. if reo intends to love you, then it is a torment in itself.
“i despise finding you in everything. even when i’m not looking for you. i thought my resentment would eventually overrule everything else. but it didn’t. i only want you more than i can deny. you are on my mind more than you should be — and all that is making me realise i don’t resent you after all.”
a faint glow of strawberries is dusted on reo’s cheeks. you can feel the head radiating off him. along with the scent of his expensive luxury cologne, one he has covered you in many times before. it seems like a lie. “i just resent wanting you when i know i should not.”
seconds seem melt into infinity. you think your thoughts are no less than your words. they are spoken the moment they come to mind. when you part your lips, the december winter of tokyo manifests as the condensed air with your words. reo feels the urge to brush his thumb over your flushed cheeks. something about the moment is making you seem oddly vulnerable. “if you love me, you do not love me in a way i understand.”
your voice comes hushed. reo tenses up. then you hear his chuckle. it does not make you look at him. it does not make him look away from you.
you know you should walk away. this is not good for your heart. it makes you sick. you should walk away and never look back.
but instead,
“will you teach me?”
you feel a sick urge to smile, as wide as you can when you see reo part his lips. a broken voice, nothing more than an incoherent blurb of sound, leaves his lips.
it seems reo and you are not much different.
“teach me, how to love you that way. the kind that is so intense, it becomes greater than love and manifests as resentment. the kind you are so afraid to show. let me see it.”
there is not much distance between reo’s fingers and the heat of your skin. not when he brushes them over the outlines of your jaw, and then the corner of your lips. the very spot your own finger has traced only moments prior.
“you will leave me.” he says, pressing his thumb a little harshly on your bottom lip.
“if i had plans on leaving,” you let yourself lean into his touch. reo seems to like that, “you wouldn’t have seen me tonight.”
“i am afraid of hurting you.” reo knows his voice is weak, uncharacteristic and in contrast to his usual charm. he can’t seem to hate it though. he reminds himself you have seen more vulnerable than this.
he knows you will probably see more of him than he ever has, when your lips brush against his thumb. he aches to make it last, but then you speak again. “of course you’ll hurt me. you already have. i can’t promise i will not hurt you either. but i have stayed. love is just a compromise between hurt and adoration. you should know only you could hurt me in ways i’d adore.”
reo closes his eyes. you watch the rise and fall of his shoulders. “i wanted to see you one last time today. because i’m leaving.”
reo lets his finger rest between the crease of you brows. he smooths it over with a subtle drag. he looks like a bittersweet teenage dream. when he smiles at you like that. you should’ve been at a loss for words. you can not ask him when, or where, how far, how close — you can not ask him anything. yet you find yourself speaking anyway. maybe to fill in the silence. “do you expect me to ask you to stay?”
at this, reo has to look away. it is the first time tonight he has actively avoided your eyes. “no, but if i do — if i stay, will i see you again? will you let me? not just in hotel rooms or dinners like these, but everywhere. i want to keep seeing you.”
it is weak, his voice. he seems to be at the mercy of your reactions. it’s a little odd. your heart shouldn’t skip a beat at this.
“i will.” you don’t say, instead letting your hand rest on top of his. the one that is still caressing the side of your face. “then see me.” you don’t demand, instead clutching onto his hand a little stronger.
reo seems to understand you anyway. he has been good at that.
so he lets his lips crash with yours. there is no hesitation, it’s brimming with fervent passion. reo steals your breaths, as if he’s never had enough of it. he has always been a little selfish when it came to you — but you like him like that, he knows. which is why when he pulls back — only because he was breathless — he would look at your lips, swollen and bruised. he relishes in seeing your flushed cheeks. your parted breaths.
he tells you he loves you. in this moment. and later when you’d find yourself in his room, on his bed, covered in his sheets that smell like him. after, when you wear his shirt that hangs loosely around your shoulders. and when he drops you home, when he bends down to place a kiss on the side of your neck.
mikage reo tells you he loves you. and if you believe him, then this time you have no one to blame but yourself.
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
unhealthy relationship based on physical attraction, which is mistaken for love. reo does not tell you he loves you, but you simply delude yourself into believing it. so when he does say it — you’re too in love to notice it doesn’t mean anything.
that’s what i was going for i mean but yeah ok. now back to characterizing reo right and writing fluff :> thanks for reading, cya !
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slafkovskys · 4 months
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surprise pregnancy with nico, he’s so sweet that i feel like he would just be over the moon, even if him and reader are only dating or whatever that’s girl dad nico to u
“so,” his voice is slow, drawn out, “what are your plans for tonight?”
“oh, you mean if i don’t end up finding out that i’m someone’s mother in the next three minutes?” you stare at the wine glass that was filled to the brim on your bathroom counter, beside it three tests. you sighed, “i’ve got lisa on standby. if i’m feeling better and these are negative, we hopefully will be celebrating freedom in a bar.”
“and if they’re positive?” you watch as his eyebrow quirks in the dim light of the hotel lamp.
“what about you, ni? what are your plans tonight- or, it’s still yesterday for you, isn’t it?” while it was seven am in bern, it was still the night before in north carolina, where nico was lodged for the night.
“well, whether or not if i find out that im going to be someone’s father,” his tone is teasing and you’re thankful that he didn’t mention the careful avoidance of his previous question, “i have a hockey game to play.”
“i forget you do that sometimes,” you send a teasing grin his way and he rolls his eyes. you’re about to say something else when the timer you had set goes off. something twists in your abdomen and suddenly the feeling of dread feels your chest. you let your eyes drift from one test to another, all reading the same answer, “fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!”
you bend down, resting your elbows on the counter and burying your head in your hands. you can hear nico shuffling around from your phone, but he doesn’t say anything. there were so many thoughts going through your head, so many emotions, so many questions. you weren’t sure how long it was before you can make yourself look at him.
“we always talked about a future together, y/n,” his tone is gentle when he speaks for the first time, breaking the silence that you had created.
“yeah, when we were in our thirties and if we hadn’t found anyone else by then. not when we’re 25 and living on opposite sides of the globe, nico,” it had always been a thing of convenience between you and him. ever since your school days and even as you both moved into adulthood, you always found your way back to the ‘no strings attached, but still best friends’ deal that you had worked out. and now you were staring at four positive pregnancy tests after he had barely been back in jersey for a month. you pick up the wine glass and you watch his face shift to one of alarm, “i’m not stupid, nico. i just want to smell it.”
“okay?” he watches as you take a deep inhale of the red liquid you had been so excited to drink after the tests came up negative. the bouts of nausea and fatigue that you had been experiencing for the past couple of weeks were just a bug and not at all related to the night you and nico shared before he left. hell, it could’ve been the morning that he left for the airport, too, now that you really think about it. “y/n-”
“i need you to be straight with me, nico,” you set the glass down and stare at your phone, “do you want a baby? don’t bullshit me.”
“with you? yes. no bullshit,” and you’ve known him long enough to know that he wasn’t lying when he spoke. “if i had to have a surprise baby with anyone else, i’d want it to be you.”
“oh, you’re so sweet,” you make a face, “this isn’t a joke. this is a life, this my life too-”
“i know that,” he insists, “but i don’t want to wait until thirty to have my shot with you. this isn’t conventional or ideal, but maybe this is how it was supposed to happen for us. it’s not like we’re strangers, we’ve known each other since we were kids-”
“please don’t tell me that you’re in love with me right now. i’m already feeling a lot of things,” you hold up a hand and he stops, “you’re thousands of miles away from me. how would this work?”
“come to jersey,” he says it so simply with no hesitation, “leave bern and come be with me in jersey. i don’t have a plan before you ask, but we can figure all of that shit out later. just- just get here.”
you close your eyes and take a deep breath, “we’re gonna be parents.”
the biggest smile you’d ever seen him adorn graces his face, “yeah, we’re going to be parents.”
send in things for combo weekend ✨
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grapejuicestyless · 11 months
Text
I Don’t Need Your Closure.
Harry Styles x Fem!Reader
Summery: In the storm that is change, Harry seems to forget the one constant in his life.
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It was predictable that with the hiatus announced, there was no eighteen months. That was it. They had the time they had left and that’s all they had to give. I’d known it since Harry had told me almost two years ago. Telling me about the idea they’d drawn up after years of nonstop working, the twinkle in his eye showed more than excitement for a break, but for a new start.
I knew him like that. I knew when he was happy, or nervous. When he was beating himself internally after a shaky performance or he was trying to remain calm in the most intense situations. I could read Harry like the back of my hand. I knew him in and out. We’d stay up for hours talking and talking until we wanted to just about die from over sharing and opening wounds to each other we didn’t realize were there until we’d felt the comfort of confessing our truths to each other.
You realize a blanket of protection seems to wrap around yourself once you’re in such an emotionally trusting relationship. It’s subconscious yet dangerous. You forget why you even had walls put up so strong and forget how to catch yourself when you fall.
I always knew that with the break, permanent or now, whatever Harry had convinced himself, there would be changes in our lives.
How naïve I was to believe it would be good. Such a fool to have thought I would be there to grow and change with him. How blissfully unaware I was that Harry had fallen so far into the wonderful newness of a fresh start that he forgot to love the one thing he’d always had.
I dedicated six years of my life to him. Having been asked out by the curly headed boy just weeks before his audition. The blush evident on his cheeks and the nervousness projecting through his bleeding cuticles and his bitten lips. I still had the, “We believe Harry has the X-Factor” t-shirt folded neatly at the bottom of one of my drawers.
And how invested I had become through his career. Helping him on the nights where it just all seemed too much for a teenage boy to be dealing with. When he felt neglected or abused, forgotten by his old friends or exploited by the tabloids so young, I had been the one to pick him up and work him through it. Sleeping pressed against his body in his tour bus so tightly we joked I would leave an indent in his side.
So, when he began to start his new album, and planned to fly far away to get into the right headspace, I couldn’t have imagined he had wanted me away from him. Always being told I was his biggest muse for everything he had done, I was blind sighted by everything he’d done.
It was cruel, and twisted the way I could have poured my everything into someone just for them to leave me dry and bleeding out.
The knowledge that he had this wonderful new start, a new success and dropped the one thing that stayed through his lowest points was like picking the scab over and over and watching it bleed.
It made me wish I hadn’t spent so much time devoted to him.
I was happy for him when the album was a success. It was obvious when he’d left me I still rubbed some final inspiration onto his work. His songs, ‘Only Angel’ and ‘Two Ghosts’ perfectly depicting situations only we’d been through. The way his fans practically ran to his aid after finding out about our separation almost made me even more angry. How quickly they were able to victimize him and coddle him made me sick.
What about me? What about the woman you’d welcomed into the fandom family with open arms so long ago. The woman who you’d stop on the streets for photos with and tell all about you day to? What about me, who was suffering in this all alone. No support from anyone. All my friends, were his. When we split, it only made sense for them to drift from me. I was a loose end meant to be severed.
So all alone, for a year or two, I watched him tour and bask in his new success, while I watched farther than ever before, selfishly wishing he would crumble under the pressure and fall face first. And even in my pity party, I couldn’t find a single piece of me that could hate him.
Sometimes he sent letters. I got them. All decorated with fancy boarders and sparkling wording that swooped and swirled in beautiful cursive letters. Invitations to house parties and shows nearby. Tickets prepaid, and VIP passes sent in the envelope.
Him and his constant need to leave no traces of bad blood in his life. His persistence in trying to be friends again. Trying to have a relationship together. He longed to have that stability he once had in his life.
Sure, we’d both dated around. Him, a tall brunette I didn’t recognize for a month and me, a few dates here and there. None ever stuck though. That knowing that someone was out there that I’d trusted enough to confess my deepest, most twisted confessions to had the ability to just walk out and have no care for the wreckage they’d left behind ruined everything I once adored. I grew trust issues. I found it hard to confide in even my closest friends, even if they’d done nothing wrong to lose it.
But, if that closure was what he wanted from me. If being friends would iron it out so nice for him, then I didn’t want it. It was like he was reaching out across a sea he had put between him and me. Trying to fix the distance he had purposefully placed when he left my life for the first and last time.
I missed him. I missed his vanilla cologne and his sweet kiss pressing across my face on the lazy mornings. I missed his hands in my hair and our drunken giggles. I miss him, still. All the time I think about how our family could’ve grown. How we could’ve been parents with little copy’s of each other running around. How we could’ve laid in the cozy living room arguing on if they looked more like him or me and eventually swooning over the features they got from each of us. I imagined I would say, “He has your eyes” and he would tell me our son had my smile.
But those daydreams could eventually drift away. I would continue to heal the longer I spent away from him. I would continue to grow and learn to trust and I would marry. I would find someone who could treat me the way I wished Harry had and I would forget about the man who ripped out my heart and made me forget how to breathe.
I would move on, and the letters will stop. If he really cares, he could come to me and beg on his knees. If he wanted to, he could. But he doesn’t so he doesn’t deserve what I could give him.
Yes, I got your letter. Yes, I’m doing better. I know that it’s over. I don’t need your closure.
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aziraphales-library · 7 months
Note
hello lovelies!! thank you all so much for all the work that you do!! y’all really are lifesavers.
i was wondering if you had any recommendations for fics that emulate the style of the original book/have a Pratchett-y vibe (footnotes, humour, structure, etc.)? i’d be especially interested in ones that are in this style but exist in the show’s canon rather than the book’s, but I wouldn’t mind either way!
We have a #footnotes tag, please check that out. Here are more fics with footnotes...
A Lot of Space Between Your Ears by nerdsandthelike (G)
“And you expect us to just waltz into Heaven, rob the archives, and walk back out?” “Yes.” “No.” Nearly a year after they successfully stopped the world from ending, Heaven obtains evidence that would result in Aziraphale being recalled from Earth. Crowley and Aziraphale decide to steal it back.
DIY How to build your own Garden of Eden by ximeria (T)
Post-not-end-of-days Crowley feels a change is needed, but he can't do it alone. Not to mention, he's not entirely sure what it is, this nebulous thing that he wants. He just knows it involves Aziraphale.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by divisionten (T)
“Well, Pulsifer, I can say with confidence I know exactly what’s wrong with your car.” “Oh? What’s wrong?” Newt peered down, looking at the undercarriage, as most people do who want to help but have absolutely no skill in basic car repair. “It’s shit.” (An anthology collection of the times Anthony J. Crowley, retired demon and occasional slumber party guest, and Aziraphale, forcefully instated Guardian Angel of the downtrodden, get summoned to deal with humanity.)
Yes and Please and Thank You by WyvernQuill (T)
"Go to alpha centauri, for all I care! Go now, this very instant, and never return, do you hear me, Crowley? Never!" Due to Crowley's firm conviction that "he need never know", Aziraphale has, for all the time they've known each other, been blissfully unaware of the obedience curse Crowley's been looping holes around since 4004 BC. You can't really blame him, is the point. Aziraphale had no idea what his unthinking words might do, and is already planning to apologise profusely at dinner... ...which might get a little tricky, seeing as Crowley has just been sighted in the vicinity of Pluto, and has concrete orders to never show his face on earth. Ever. Again.
Demon in Heaven, Angel in Hell by Hexqueen517 (T)
When the world ends, Aziraphale will be called back to Heaven and Crowley will be banished back to Hell, separated for eternity - unless they’re willing to listen to Beelzebub and Gabriel’s plan. Which is Beelzebub’s plan, of course, but they need Gabriel to act as a shield against plant misters filled with holy water. But not everyone in Heaven and Hell is on board with Beelzebub and Gabriel’s leadership. When everyone at the top of the Ineffable Bureaucracy has their own ambitions, the chances of averting apocalypse yet again may seem random. You never know who will come out on top when the dice begin to roll …
i have spent all my years in believing you by braveatironheart (M)
This is the story of how Aziraphale and Crowley inadvertently end the war between Heaven and Hell. The story of how they – indirectly, at least – avert the Apocalypse is in there, too, but I suspect you already know that one. If pressed and in an uncharacteristically honest mood, Crowley would have to admit he’d fallen for Aziraphale in the Garden of Eden. Things were not so straightforward for Aziraphale, who spent six millennia trying to ignore his growing fondness for the demon. He supposed the first time he’d felt drawn to Crowley would have been in Rome, eight years after the death of Christ. And what had he done? Invited him to lunch. It was no wonder, really, that he kissed him two thousand years later. How else was one to respond when one’s hereditary enemy saved one’s life and one’s books? 5945 years after they meet, Crowley and Aziraphale confess their love for one another. They certainly aren’t going to let anything get in the way, no matter what Heaven and Hell throw at them. aka Good Omens, except the only plot is Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship. Complete with original, lockdown-era plot.
- Mod D
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