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huramuna · 4 months

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foxfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in.

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head.

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold.

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a fox, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him.

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be.

And so it shall be.

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children.

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was.

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late.

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice.

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet.

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you.

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot.

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.”

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.”

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders.

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him.

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there.

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him.

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head.

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it.

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–”

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough.

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #my writing

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lunasfics · 6 months

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Thunderstorms - Bruce Wayne

Summary: There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: I'm like. not super happy with how this turned out. but i hope someone likes it. i saw a picture bruce and he looked absolutely scrumptious and I was inspired to write some fluff for him. ALSO SO SORRY FOR THE INACTIVITY IVE BEEN BUSY. and also. writers block is a bitch. so yeah, i am trying to get better with updates though!!

reblogs are appreciated!

You sighed, standing under a ledge just outside your work building, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve the little warmth you had. The rain pelted down onto the concrete mercilessly, the cold, harsh winds hindering the ledge you were under from really doing much to help. The fresh scent of rain washing away the grime on the concrete filled your nostrils, the cool air nipping at your skin. Of course, Gotham’s usually unbelievably bad weather just had to be at its worst when you get off work, after the building closes, during the one point in time you don’t have a car. Wonderful.

You weren't sure what you were waiting for honestly, you had considered calling him. But thought better of it. He was busy on patrol, he always was. Besides, it had been about two weeks since you’d seen your boyfriend, and although it did hurt you, you understood. Or you at the very least tried your best to. You’d decided long ago to not lie to yourself, you understood Bruce’s endeavor, but you also understood that you have every right to feel upset over it. To feel hurt. It wasn’t an easy endeavor, you knew that, you’d only wished he’d reach out and let you in.

You winced as the loud rumbling of thunder sounded through the sky. You had always hated thunderstorms, the thugs and criminals of Gotham didn’t scare you, Batman didn’t scare you, neither did the vigilantes who worked with him; but thunderstorms just… terrified you.

As you contemplated your options, you decided you’d just wait it out, you’d much rather sit still in a thunderstorm than have to navigate your way through it.

You dug your hands into the pockets of your jacket trying to keep warm, as you shuffled back against the wall. Your head shot up at the familiar swoosh sound of someone landing silently not far from you. You turned towards the sound, where you saw Batman looking at you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, you were surprised, Bruce didn’t usually patrol this area until the later hours of the night. You had learned not long after your relationship started which patrol routes he would usually take, you figured he would be somewhere on the east side of Gotham.

His lips pressed into a line before he spoke, “You’re afraid of thunderstorms. Your car is getting repaired tonight.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving the white lenses of his cowl.

He cleared his throat before approaching you, removing his cape and draping it over you gently, it was heavy. It smelled like cedar wood and mint, the scent of the body wash you bought for him not long ago, and the faint smell of gunpowder, you lifted it over your head to form a makeshift hood, the thick fabric of the large cape still swallowed you. When you seemed ready he walked alongside you as you made the route towards your apartment.

He spoke again, his voice quiet, “You could have called me. I would have come sooner.”

You shook your head, “I thought you were on patrol. I’m surprised you’re here, honestly. It’s been awhile.”

He seemed to tense a bit, only for a split second, but you noticed. You chose not to acknowledge it.

“Hm.” He gave a nod, as you continued along the sidewalk towards your apartment building, walking in silence. You looked at him on more than one occasion. He seemed to be contemplating what to say before speaking again, “I…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He paused for a moment, rather awkwardly, like he really wasn’t sure how to go about what he wanted to say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. Leave it to you to make Batman nervous.

He cleared his throat again, before speaking, “I haven’t been giving you a relationship that you deserve, I’ve been prioritizing this,” he gestured to his suit, “over us. For that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, indicating you were acknowledging his words. There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you. You looked at him, the corners of his mouth tilted downwards in concern.

You took a moment before responding, “I understand. I know it’s… a lot. Just, maybe a call every few days couldn't hurt? Instead of, you know, disappearing on me.”

His gaze was still fixed on you as he nodded, clearing his throat, he spoke again, “I should have been doing that to begin with.”

You nodded, “You should have, but I could’ve done more to reach out. I should’ve established those boundaries.”

He looked at you, for a moment, the slightest hint of surprise adorned his visible features, “You aren’t in the wrong here.”

You shrugged, “Maybe not as much as you, but relationships are a two-way street, we both have to try, and I wasn’t doing my part. Not as much as I should have been.”

He nodded, you noted the way his shoulders relaxed.

“I would like to mention however, now that these boundaries are set, you can’t pull that on me again. You need to talk to me, Bruce. You can't just disappear on me and expect me to just be okay with it.”

He nodded again, his eyes not leaving yours, you could feel his stare through the cowl, “I’ll do that, I’ll do better,” he promised.

You smiled, opening the door to your apartment building, it was late in the evening, no one in the building tended to wander about at this time of night. You looked over at him, tilting your head to invite him into the building, before continuing towards the elevator, pressing the upwards arrow. You turned and he was right next to you. His mouth was pressed into a line, the corner of his lip moving in a way that told you he was in thought.

The elevator right up to your floor was quiet. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you. That was one thing you’d liked about being with him, you didn’t have to talk constantly to maintain a comfortable space.

When you reached the door you unlocked it, stepping through and folding the heavy cape in your arms. You turned around and took in the sight of Bruce, right outside your door, there in his bat suit, without a cape he looked kind of…naked. It was kind of funny, if you were being honest. He stood there, awkward in a way that only you could make him, he wasn’t one to fidget, but you could see the way his gloved hand twitched ever so slightly, as if he wanted to.

Initially, when you first started dating Bruce, you were reluctant, his reputation was known to most in Gotham, and his sincerity, in your eyes, was just a facade.

So imagine your surprise when you not only agree to a date, but during said date, he takes you to a quiet little cafe, and is oddly… timid? You were undoubtedly perplexed, as gone was his playboy persona; and it drew you to him, his reserved personality captivated you, because you knew it was genuine. That was the day you really met Bruce Wayne.

You eyed him standing awkwardly at your door, before asking, “Well, would you like to come in?”

He nodded, clearing his throat before entering your small apartment, shutting your door quietly behind him.

“You weren’t planning on going back on patrol after this?”

He shook his head, removing his cowl as he spoke, “It’s a slow night, Gordon can handle it,” he met your eyes, revealing the icy blue color that you love so much, offering you a small grin, “I want to spend time with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What about Alfred?”

His lip quirked up into a small smile, “He told me I should ‘get over myself and go see you before I lose what is quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to me’, he also said he was getting sick of me locking myself in the cave.”

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his arms wrap themselves securely around your waist, leaning into the familiar closeness, “Alfred is a smart man.”

“He is, I suppose even he needs a break sometimes.”

“I can imagine, I’ll have to write him a thank you card for keeping you in check,” you laughed softly.

“He’d love that, I'm sure,” he huffed a small laugh.

You giggled, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, pulling away to meet his eyes again, “So you’re staying the night, but take a shower, you smell like sweat.”

He nodded. He went over to your bedroom, probably to grab some of his spare clothes kept there, when he wasn't so hyper-focused on his mission, he spent a lot of time there in between patrols. It wasn’t long before you heard the water running. You moved from your place in the living room, deciding to change into your sweats.

You plopped yourself onto your bed, your shut windows thankfully covered the storm that was outside, you buried yourself under the blankets. You flicked on your lamp, encasing the room with a warm glow, pulling out and reading a book you were halfway through, not closing it until you heard the shower turn off, the bathroom door opened not long after.

You looked over to see Bruce, his hair fell over his forehead in damp clumps, his towel strung over his shoulder over the old band t-shirt he had on, his sweatpants hung loosely on his frame. He set the towel down to dry before climbing into the other side of the bed.

You shut the book in your hand, setting it aside before opening your arms, allowing him to shuffle himself closer, he leaned over you and shut off the light. You felt his weight on top of you, his arms wrapping around you, his head comfortably on your chest. You ran your fingers through his damp hair, enjoying the quiet moment.

He lifted his head, his blue eyes meeting yours, “Move into the manor with me.”

You stopped, “What?”

He shifted, propping himself on his elbows, “Move in with me.”

“Are you sure? For someone who has contingencies for his contingencies, you can be incredibly impulsive.”

He nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it for the past month at least. I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, move into the manor with me.”

There was a moment of silence while you processed, though he seemed to interpret your silence as a form of rejection, “Of course, if you don’t feel ready that’s okay, we can take this at your pace, we can always—”

“Bruce.”

He stopped, his full attention on you.

“I would love to move into the manor with you.”

He smiled, genuine and bright, you felt as if you were looking into the warmth of the sun, the best part— this was the smile he saved only for you.

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girlgenius1111 · 5 months

Text

I want to be here.

part 3!!!

no warnings... i don't think.

You sat on your couch, staring at your phone resting on the coffee table. It was opened to your messages with Ona. You had barely texted in 6 years, only sending happy birthday's back and forth. Today, though, sat a message sent from you.

-Are you okay? I hope nothing we did made you uncomfortable. Not that you had to stay. I just want to make sure that you're okay.

It was marked delivered. There was no response. You'd only sent it an hour ago, and it was possible Ona had just gone home to sleep. But you didn't know when she'd left, how she got home. You were worried. And, as much as you wished you weren't, you were hurt. You felt... icky. Used. You knew Ona, and you knew she wouldn't just fuck you to get back at you, or just for fun. There was a small part of you, however, that felt like it would have made sense for her to do either of those things.

It's not like she could really have still feelings for you, if she ever did. She was Ona. The human embodiment of sunshine. A laugh that brought a smile to anyone who heard it's face. She was perfect, or as close as a person could get. And you were just... you. Nothing special. Nothing compared to her.

You pulled yourself out of the familiar spiral when your phone buzzed. You felt nauseous as you picked your phone up, Ona's caller ID flashing across the screen. Hand shaking slightly, you answered.

"Hello?" You tried to keep your voice level.

"Hey, I'm fine, I'm sorry I left like that. I just needed to get my head on straight." She didn't sound okay, she sounded like she'd been crying.

"No, it's okay. I was just worried, wanted to make sure you were safe." There was so much more you wanted to say, but you stuck to simple sentences, simple statements.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just kind of freaked out. Not because I felt pressured or anything, I just... got scared." You were relieved at that but still, she sounded slightly choked, like every word to you was a challenge. You could hear the murmur of someone else's voice next to her, but you couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly, you needed to get off the phone. You were convinced she regretted it, regretted you, and the rejection that hadn't actually happened yet felt suffocating. "It's fine. I get it. I messed things up, and I shouldn't have let it go this far. I'll see you at practice tomorrow."

You tried to hang up, feeling a lump in your throat as you spoke, but Ona's frantic voice stopped you.

"No! Y/n, no. Please don't run again. I know that's insanely hypocritical considering what I did this morning, but please. Can we please just talk?" She sounded panicked, and you felt too guilty to tell her no. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing tears out of them, wondering how she still had you wrapped around her finger, so many years later.

"Okay. Do you want me to come over?"

"Um. I'm actually at Alexia's. Don't be mad, I told her what happened, I just needed advice. Can I come to you?"

That shouldn't have surprised you. It made sense. Alexia was the biggest pusher of team cohesion. If people had a problem with each other, she made them work it out. She clearly had told Ona to talk to you, to tell you that it was a mistake in person, so there wasn't any tension.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you soon." You hung up before she could respond, leaning back against the couch, trying to pull yourself together. You wiped the tears off your face harder than necessary, and took a couple deep breaths.

Ona was going to come over, and tell you that you guys made a mistake. That was it. There was no other option. And you had to be fine with it, because this was your fault. If you'd handled the situation differently when you were 18, maybe things would be different, but they weren't. There was no conceivable way that Ona would want you.

You must have sat thinking longer than you thought because suddenly the doorbell rang, and you jumped to your feet, masochistically excited to see Ona even if you were sure she was about to break your heart.

----

The 2 of you sat on opposite sides of your couch, silently. She'd been crying, you could tell, and she was wearing clothes that were obviously Alexia's. You ignored how good she looked even in a t-shirt and sweatpants that were too big on her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a few pieces falling free. You were about to speak, to tell her it was alright, you knew what she was here to say, but she beat you to it. Her words surprised you.

"I was hoping maybe you could tell me what happened on my 18th birthday. After I kissed you." Her eyes met yours, and her gaze was curious.

"What makes you think something happened?" You hated how defensive you sounded, but this wasn't where you thought the conversation was heading and you didn't think you wanted to talk about this.

"Well you took off, moved out of your parents house a couple weeks later, and pretty much stopped speaking to me. You wouldn't do that without a reason." Her voice was gentle, as if you were fragile and you were so, so confused. Nothing she was saying made any sense.

"You didn't try to talk to me either, Ona." You said it more bitterly than you intended, and suddenly realized that you were kind of angry. Not really with her, but with yourself. For not allowing yourself to lean on her when everything happened with your parents. You hadn't realized, until that moment, how much you had needed her.

"I'm not proud of that." Your eyes snapped up to hers. "I was hurt, when you ran, but I shouldn't have kissed you. You weren't ready, you weren't comfortable with it yet, it was obvious. I pushed you too far, and I assumed you wanted space, and I was hurt, and then. I don't know. It had been too long."

You were really confused now. Baffled. It sounded like she was telling you that she knew you hadn't left because you didn't want her, but because you weren't ready. This whole time, she had understood you better than you'd really understood yourself. You felt tears welling in your eyes again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep everything in.

Ona scooted closer. "Y/n. Can you tell me what happened when you got home that night?" She knew. Of course she did. She had known your parents well, and they weren't shy about their beliefs. And she'd know that something catastrophic must have happened for you to move out at 18.

You couldn't look at her, staring at the coffee table, watching it get blurrier and blurrier as tears continued to gather. Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you spoke, but it still managed to break on every other word. "I told them. They weren't happy. They told me to leave when I turned 18." You stuck to the facts, the bare minimum.

You felt her grab your hand, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck. I'm so sorry for all of it. I shouldn't have kissed you, and I shouldn't have just let you pull yourself away. I knew you felt bad about what happened, and I felt bad about what happened, and I didn't know how to fix it. You needed me, and I wasn't there, and I'm so, so sorry y/n.

The tears were really flowing now. Because how was she sitting her, apologizing. To you. For something that was completely your fault. You looked at her then, your eyes meeting hers. They were filled with apologies, regret. She was crying again, and you couldn't help yourself but reach a hand up and gently wipe a tear away with your thumb.

"Oni, you don't have to be sorry. I shouldn't have left. I loved you and I should have been brave enough to tell you that. And I definitely should have been brave enough to try to fix it after. I was a fucking coward, and you deserved so much better than that, than me."

"No." Her voice was suddenly harsh, and you jumped a little, startled. She softened slightly. "No. You were terrified, I could see it on your face. Please don't talk about yourself like that. You didn't do anything wrong. I always knew you had a tougher time with being gay than I did. You needed more time, and there is nothing wrong with that."

She said it so definitively, like it was a fact, not just what she felt. It was... almost convincing. Taking a deep breath, you tried to let her off the hook, still convinced she didn't want you.

"Well. I'm still sorry. I know I ruined us." She shook her head at that.

"You said you loved me. Past tense." Your eyes dropped again, suddenly interested in the tattoo on her arm. She kept talking, undeterred. "I hope it's not past tense. Because I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. I never stopped. Alexia told me I needed to get my head out of my ass and just tell you, because she says it's obvious that you love me too."

You looked back up at her in shock for a couple seconds. You sounded broken when you spoke again, lower lip trembling. "I don't understand." And you didn't. You were genuinely perplexed at the idea that Ona loved you.

She moved closer to you, taking your face in between her hands gently, forcing you to meet her eyes. You'd never had someone look at you that way before; like she was consumed with love for you.

"I love you. I want you. I didn't leave because I didn't want you, I left because I was I didn't know how to tell you. I just want to be here, y/n. With you. I want tell you that I love you, that you're a good person, and you deserve good things, until you believe it. If you love me, if you want me. I want to be here." She spoke slowly, making sure you heard every word.

You were still surprised. Still kind of confused. A part of you was starting to believe her though. Her words, the way she looked at you, the gentle feel of her hands cradling your face. It didn't leave much room for doubt. She stared at you, and you realized she was waiting for an answer. As if you would say no.

Surging forward, you pressed your lips against hers, kissing her firmly. You pulled back after a second, and you told her what you'd been dying to say since you were a kid.

"I love you, Ona. So much." You were sobbing at this point, and she sighed in relief at your words, pulling you back into her. You smooshed your face into her neck, holding her tightly. She held you just as tightly. You let yourself feel it all then, and you cried into her for a while. She didn't ever let go, running her hands through your hair and whispering reassurances into your ear.

When you were done crying, she was still there. Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of Alexia's sweatshirt. Ona was looking at you so tenderly, so gently. You leaned forward, pressing another kiss to her lips, just because you could. She smiled against you, pulling you to lay down on top of her. You rested your chin on her chest, looking up at her.

"God we're so stupid." She laughed at that, and the sound made you grin, a bigger smile than you'd felt yourself have in a while.

"The stupidest. If we'd just had one conversation, we could have figured this out years ago." She was smiling down at you, still lightly pushing your hair out of your face. "Thank god Alexia convinced me to come back over here. She was so sure you loved me back, she practically dragged me into the car."

"I wonder how she knew," you mused.

"She says you look at me the way Mapi looks at Ingrid, Marta at Caroline. I knew what she meant, but I never saw it. Not until now." You blushed, realizing that you were staring at her, enamored. "She also said Mapi said something to her about you having feelings for me. I think they've been conspiring together."

Your jaw dropped at that, and you were suddenly sure that they had been. "Oh they absolutely have. We should tell them we aren't getting together just to drive them insane."

"Yes, and we aren't speaking to each other. They'll lose their minds. But first, I have something I need to do." She sat you up, and you looked at her, confused.

"What do you ha-" She cut you off, pulling your face into hers in a decisively dirtier way than you'd been kissing. You met her with equal enthusiasm, wrapping your hands around her body, pulling her sit in your lap. Pulling back after a minute, gasping for air, you responded.

"You're right, I think we're busy for the rest of the morning"

"Maybe the rest of the day"

She pulled you back into her, and you kissed her hungrily, taking your time, because neither of you were running this time.

-----

Hope you enjoyed :) not sure if we've seen the last of these 2, but let me know if there's anything specific you want to see.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #ona batlle x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ona batlle

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thefriendlyghvst · 2 months

Text

distant // svt jeon wonwoo (pt. 2)

synopsis: after you come home drunk and angry late one night, wonwoo realises he has to change to keep loving you from this close.

(forced marriage trope, non-idol au, kinda(?) angst)

a/n: ask and you shall receive HAHAHAH due to popular demand here's the second part my sweets! i'm sorry it took a longgg while for me to write this, i've been pretty busy 😅 it's a bit long (i may have gotten carried away) but i hope you guys like it!! enjoy xx

for the friends that wished for a part 2 🫶

@ykh94 @feat-sun @yoonclip @zeervzn @laquarosere @septemberskies @celestarvs

—————

you tucked a lone strand of hair behind your ear as you hooked on the earring that matched your outfit, adjusting your dress as soon as you were done. you smoothed out whatever crinkles that were visible and inhaled deeply as you took a final look in the mirror.

it was the night of the dinner. the dress you were wearing was pretty, a v-line maxi dress that reached just below your knees with sleeves that puffed a little bit at the shoulders and cuffed at your wrists. you paired the navy blue dress with a silver belt and a matching silver watch and butterfly shaped earrings. wonwoo had bought the jewelry for you in secret, telling you they would look good with your favourite watch when he gifted it to you a few days ago.

"you look pretty," he complimented you as you stepped out of your room.

very, very pretty, he thought, but he kept it to himself. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. he noticed the earrings and his heart swelled.

i knew it would look good, he thought to himself.

"i... uh, thank you," you managed a smile at him. "you look nice too,"

wonwoo smiled. he was wearing a button-up that matched the colour of your dress, donning his signature office look. his shirt was tucked into his black trousers, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbow. his hair was parted and styled neatly, his rectangular frames resting on the bridge of his nose making him look all the more appealing to anyone who had eyes. he looked really nice.

the both of you left the apartment and made your way to his car quietly. the dinner was being held by one of your closest friends, choi seungcheol, to celebrate his birthday.

wonwoo was nervous, to say the least. he was pacing around the living room just moments before you stepped out. the idea of a social event thrilled neither of you, but he was more worried about messing things up between the both of you.

the morning after your outburst, you had been the one to apologise first over breakfast. you told him you had a long week and shouldn't have taken it out on him, but it bothered him. why were you the one apologising when he was the one in the wrong? there was one thing wonwoo realised over and over: he didn't deserve you.

it bothered him so much his heart hurt for days. he didn't think he deserved you, but a selfish part of him wants you by his side. your marriage was forced, but over time it seems he found comfort in your smile and peace in your presence. so his selfishness is working to keep you as close to him as he can. he should have been better to you from the start, but at least (he hoped) it wasn't too late.

it's been almost two weeks since your confrontation, and every day since, he's been trying to make it up to you. you noticed, no matter how grand or subtle his gestures were.

it was awkward at first. you weren't used to being the centre of his attention. he was being more attentive and you weren't just strangers living in the same house anymore, so it felt weird. you were confused. you were finally getting along with him as you've wanted, but it was so odd you contemplated whether going back to the way things were was a better option.

you contemplated going back to the way things were to the time even before you met him.

you had touched on the topic of divorce that morning while the both of you were eating, but wonwoo stopped chewing and paled so ghostly white you thought he was going to fall sick, so you just cleared your throat and said it was about a friend. you never brought it up again. wonwoo still saw through your lie and it's been keeping him on edge. he was determined not to let you go.

you wanted to give in. he wasn't a man of many words, but he was trying. he was trying his absolute best and you wanted so badly to let yourself love him with everything you have to give. but you were scared.

what if he's just being nice? he's a good guy, it's how he is.

so many thoughts would cloud your mind and wonwoo would catch you zoning out often, sometimes even when you watched him. you've seen his kindness. he was a good hyung, son, and friend. he doesn't usually raise his voice and you were sure his heart was made of gold. his smiles were warm and sincere, and he was so beautiful and gentle with just about anything and anyone. there wasn't anything extravagant and special about the way he is with you now, he was just being himself and warming up to you more.

and it was so hard not to notice. he'd come home earlier on some days just to have dinner with you, or sit with you to watch TV while he worked. he'd crack jokes you'd think were funny, and even if you tried, you couldn't miss the fond smile that rested on his features as he let his soft gaze linger while you talked, or laughed, or did something.

it petrified you. the care and love you felt for him scared you to your wit's end. you didn't know what to do with yourself. if you let the walls you tried so hard to build crumble, whose fault would it be? wonwoo's for showing this side of him that you so desperately wanted to see? or yours for never learning your lesson?

"we're here," you heard him say.

you turned to face him, surprised to see him leaning his weight on his elbow that he had propped onto the storage compartment between your seats.

the light from the streetlamp outside illuminated his features so well he looked ethereal. heck, even the light in the car could have been the moonlight with the way he looked right now.

his seatbelt was already off, which meant that you might have already reached your destination for a few minutes. you could have sworn you were at a stop light just a few seconds ago. so had he just been watching you?

wonwoo did park the car a few minutes ago. he turned to announce your arrival, but you were chewing on your bottom lip so deep in thought that he didn't want to interrupt. he settled for taking off his seatbelt and propping his elbow on the storage compartment, watching you with your eyebrows furrowed.

he wanted to know what you were thinking. he wanted to know how you felt. he worried if you were trying to find reasons to leave him, not that it would be difficult. he wanted to know if you thought about him. he wanted to know everything about you, beyond his observations.

please don't leave me, i love you. he thought.

i love you. he realised.

his heart ached. the only regret in his life right now is not realising how much you meant to him sooner.

he noticed you sigh subconsciously and decided to tell you that you were already at the venue. when you met his eyes, he smiled warmly. the kind that emphasised his smile lines as he flashed his perfect teeth and made his eyes small.

you returned the expression with a smile of your own, your heart beating so loudly you were sure he could hear it. you wished so so much that your face wasn't burning up. that would be embarrassing. you haven't had the chance to admit it to him, but wonwoo's smile was your favourite thing in the world.

"shall we?" he asked and you nodded.

you inhaled. suddenly nervous, you fumbled a little with your seatbelt but managed to unbuckle it, moving to open the car door and get out.

"wait, let me do it," he said.

"it's okay, won. i can do it," you tried but he was already out of the vehicle and jogging to the other side.

you collected your birthday gift for seungcheol and your purse from your lap as he opened the car door. wonwoo's heart was beating in his ears as you thanked him with a small smile, stepping out of the vehicle and letting him lock it behind you.

you walked towards the event hall while he collected his own gift, deciding your heart couldn't take it if you turned around to wait for him. you couldn't watch as he tried so hard to win you over. it broke your heart.

but it was also because of your weak heart that you walked slowly, pretending to make sure everything was in your purse so that he could catch up to you quickly. it worked, and you felt his presence next to you shortly after. his height allowed his shadow to loom over you, blocking the light from the streetlamp.

you couldn't resist and looked at him. he had a look of concern washed over his features, wordlessly asking if anything was missing. you swallowed hard. he was closer than you thought, but you managed a reply and told him you were just double-checking and that you had everything. he nodded and the both of you walked quietly across the street.

"can i... uh- can i hold your hand?" he broke the silence, taking the risk after contemplating it in his head for what felt like hours.

wonwoo felt like he couldn't breathe when you didn't respond. you were taken aback and couldn't find the words at all. he was beginning to regret even asking, awkwardly adjusting his collar until he felt your hand clasp his.

he exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding and looked at you while he smiled in relief, but you weren't looking at him.

you refused to. if you did, your guarded walls would crumble. the effect he had on you was dangerous.

the both of you reached the venue where the dinner was being held still hand in hand, but you let go as soon as you saw seungcheol to wave at him. wonwoo gave his hyung a hug and wished him a happy birthday and you did the same when he came up to you. the two of you passed the older man his gifts and he beamed, inviting you further in the hall as he welcomed other guests that came after you.

wonwoo licked his lips nervously, wanting to take your hand in his again. but since you made no move to do it, he decided against it and kept his hand balled into a fist by his side. he didn't want to push his luck too far.

the both of you walked over to where some of your mutual friends and wonwoo's colleagues sat. you took a seat next to vernon and seungkwan, who have been your best friends since high school. wonwoo took a seat in between you and his best friend and business partner mingyu, who you smiled at politely while walking past him earlier to take your seat.

"do you need anything?" vernon asked from next to you while the waiters started serving food on all the guest tables.

"no, thank you. i got it," you smiled at him.

vernon nodded and passed you a glass of water that was handed to him by the waiter, which you thanked him again for. he mumbled a 'no problem' as he grabbed another two glasses for seungkwan and himself.

"kwannie, could you get me two sashimis there?" you pointed at the sushi buffet laid out in front of him in the middle of the table.

wonwoo bit the inside of his cheek as he watched seungkwan grab your plate to help you, wishing you asked him for help too. he was fond of seungkwan and vernon, he really was. he was glad that you could count on them, but wonwoo wanted you to rely on him too. especially since he knew you rarely asked for help if you could do it yourself.

the rest of the dinner flew by. you mostly spoke to vernon and seungkwan, and occasionally to seungcheol who came by every now and then to talk or check how things were going.

most of the dinner's guests left after seungcheol's closing birthday speech, and only about twelve of his closest friends, wonwoo included, stayed behind for some drinks and a short get-together.

it was well after midnight when you and wonwoo reached home. since wonwoo had a few drinks, you drove home and let him take a nap in the car. you appreciated the quiet ride, not willing to strike up a conversation. you preferred the silence mostly because you didn't know what to say.

what you also didn't know was that wonwoo only pretended to be asleep in the car. at the function today, he felt his heart sink deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach as he watched you interact and laugh with other people.

he wouldn't have minded. he would have actually loved it had you not been ignoring him for the most part. he wanted to brush it off as you haven't met your friends in a while due to your work, but you actively avoided eye contact and looked away quickly whenever you did meet his eyes. it made him think the worst case scenarios.

he wanted to share laughs with you too. the dinner was an opportunity he had been looking forward to, but he forgot that it was a social event after all. he couldn't help it. it felt like all his progress went down the drain.

so he pretended that he was asleep in the car and stood behind you when you unlocked the door to your shared apartment. you took him by surprise when you turned and grabbed his arm to guide him in, letting go only when you sat him on the sofa and went to pour him a glass of water.

you set the mug of water down and wished him goodnight. when you straightened up to leave, he quickly held on to your forearm. his grip wasn't too strong but it stopped you in your tracks anyway.

"why are you avoiding me?" he finally asked the burning question in his head.

"i'm not avoiding you," you denied.

it was a lie and even he knew it, but he relented when you gently peeled his fingers off of your arm.

"yes you are," his voice lowered as he stood. "why?"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you averted his gaze.

"you're doing it again," he stepped forward and you stepped back.

"i'm not doing anything," you tried to stand your ground, looking at him again.

"you're taking care of me one moment and then the next you're refusing to speak to me," he explained. "did i do anything wrong?"

his voice cracked and your heart wrenched painfully in your chest. he gently held your hands but you pulled away, apologising softly.

"no, no. i'm the one who's sorry," he retracted his hand and paused.

you shook your head. "you didn't do anything to be sorry for,"

"then why are you avoiding me?"

"wonwoo, please understand," you began, and his heart hurt that you called him by his full name. what happened to the nickname you gave him?

your throat was closing up and you were finding it more difficult to control the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

"what is there to understand?" he pried. "you're confusing me,"

"i can't spend a single second more with you," you admitted, the tears you tried so hard to hide streaming down your face.

his eyes widened and his heart leapt up to his throat. his head hurt. this was it. you were set on leaving him already, no matter what he did to try and keep you by his side. he desperately searched your expression, but all he saw were your tears. you were crying and it pained him. he hated himself for being the reason you were crying again.

"sweetheart, please don't cry," wonwoo reached forward, but you stepped back, wiping your tears and turning away from him.

a choked sob from him forced you to face him again. he sat back down, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as tears of his own started to wet his cheeks. he wiped his face quickly.

"whatever it is, i'm sorry," he cried. "but please don't leave. i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry,"

"wonwoo, please," you begged.

your resolve was crumbling. you couldn't watch him fall apart like this. you kneeled in front of him when he buried his face in his hands. it could have been the drinks he had, but wonwoo found himself unable to control his emotions. you pried his hands away from his face and forced him to look at you.

"please let me go, hm?" you coaxed, but he shook his head, still crying.

"why can't you understand?" you rested your forehead against your fists that were holding his hands. "i can't spend another second with you or else-"

you froze. you almost let it slip and wished he wouldn't ask, but of course he heard it and had to know.

"or else what?"

"nothing," you got up quickly and turned your back to him.

"stop avoiding me, y/n. talk to me, please," he begged.

"or else what?" his voice cleared.

"or else i'll fall in love with you!" you confessed, facing him while you threw your hands up in frustration.

wonwoo was standing again, frozen in place at your admission. you sniffled and sighed, eyes burning into his.

"again," your voice lowered to barely a whisper. "and you won't love me. again,"

your words hung so thick in the air it suffocated you. both of you.

"i'm tired of this, won. if you don't want me, let me go. i can't keep loving you if-"

your sentence was cut short as he grabbed your hands and pulled you into his embrace, engulfing you in his arms and his large frame. this was the first time you were this close to him, and you could feel his heart hammering against the shell of your ear.

a fresh stream of tears escaped the corners of your eyes and you sobbed into his chest. if this was how he felt, why didn't he ever tell you? wonwoo didn't know what to do, so he tightened his embrace, whispering sweet nothings into your hair.

when you regained yourself, he cupped your face in his hands as you pulled away and sniffled. he grinned at you, that heartache he called a smile tugging at your heartstrings. his cheeks were wet with his own tears, which you reached up to wipe. he chuckled and shook his head, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb and then his face with his sleeves.

"do you love me that much?" he asked quietly. "enough to love me a second time?"

you nodded, still unable to find the right words that expressed your thoughts. you didn't have to, though, because wonwoo understood. he studied your features for a little while, caressing your cheek and tucking your hair behind your ear.

"may i?" he asked again, this time making you raise your eyebrows.

you hummed inquisitively and he leaned forward. oh.

you closed the gap between the both of you, your lips meeting his. the both of you held on to each other as if you were afraid the other would disappear if either of you let go. his hand cupped your cheek gently while the other rested on your waist, and your hands were in his hair and on his back. the both of you eventually broke the kiss and he nestled his face in the crook of your neck while you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"i love you too," he pecked your skin. "i'm sorry it took me so long to realise. please don't leave me,"

"wonwoo..."

"hmm?" he hummed against your neck, worried again when you didn't call him by his nickname.

"that tickles," you joked and a loud laugh reverberated from his chest.

i love you. enough to love you for more than just this lifetime. you thought as you let yourself giggle and tighten your arms around him.

—

masterlist // part 1

#imagine #oneshots #fiction #oneshot #seventeen #seventeen angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #svt wonu #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonu #jeon wonu #svt imagines #svt #non idol au #distant part 2

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sukunasun · 1 year

Note

how would gojo treat his partner/wife?

gojo doesn't really do the whole boyfriend thing very well, not for lack of trying but he's made it very clear. or as clear as "i've never had a girlfriend" can be. which pretty much explains everything.

there are late-night meetups and month-long breaks in between. maybe a gift or two when he's trying to make up for something, it's the only way he knows how to apologize. the latest being cartier bracelets tucked in a red bag, one he holds up to your face eagerly wishing that you'd just forget he's so flawed, in no way ready for commitment, or to talk about it. "i'm sorry, it's just really complicated," he'll sigh. nothing holds gojo down you think. he comes and goes as he pleases. always growing, changing, keeping the end of the world from happening all in plain sight while you move on with a life filled with mundane things he’s probably got no time or reason to care about.

it feels a lot like loving a god sometimes, how he's just that bit out of touch, and...impossible. one who’s desperately trying to be human. with so much fear in his shaking hands and bated breaths, with his lip tucked between teeth, holding back the words he shall never utter, 'don't leave, don't look at me, don't touch me where it hurts.’ gojo treats you—at least initially—like he would anyone else. like he’s learning to love for the first time.

backdraft or whatever they call it. opening a door to a burning house, a fire that bursts and screams at the first rush of oxygen. he wants you to step inside and manage these tempers, seething and roiling resentment, a roof that falls in on itself.

all this and he's yet to tell you how he really feels about you, however, every once in a while, he does make the effort to call.

“hey it's me,” he says the moment you answer because who else would it be at this hour...does that thing with his voice that's so effortless. warm, and inviting. seductive really. ringing through right as the snow outside begins to frost over wilting leaves.

“sorry, don’t think i know who this is,” you reply, adding a playful lilt to the end of it. there’s a low chuckle in return, then the rustling of sheets, it’s enough to paint you a picture of him in bed. a very large bed from what you remembered, but the last time you’d stopped by his place, there'd been no need for accurate measurements, thread counts, and whether or not he’d gone with sustainable options. in fact, there was no need for talking at all, only muffled moans into the crook of your neck, a whining plea here or there. gojo likes to grit through his teeth, pausing before every first thrust, a savourer is he.

speaking of which, he asks, “how’d you like a reminder?”

you weigh things out, tucking your phone between ear and shoulder. "it's a tempting offer...but i'm starting to feel a little used here," you say. this is just a check-in point for him. just so he knows he still can have his fill of you and...whatever it is you bring to the table, he hasn't actually told you.

'it's the sex' your brain reminds you—all the multiple orgasms in under an hour–type sex, in an onsen, over a balcony, backshots and binding you to fancy rig, will accept a blowjob only if you want to, eager to please, so willing to learn—no, that's not true, the both of you are so much more than that. you talk about very important things like the news and whats good on tv right now. just as long as it doesn't have anything to do with his past or his future or what exactly is the state of this relationship...so it's definitely the sex.

"i thought that's what you wanted, weren't you screaming it at the top of your lungs that night?" for effect, he acts it out for you, "oh use me, do whatever you like," he doesn't try to pitch his voice higher, which makes it all the more embarrassing when hearing your own words said back to you with such impassiveness, such tease. who you were during the throes of passion is not the same person outside of it. to think he'd been a virgin when he met you.

"that selective memory of yours never ceases to amaze me," you can't help the smile that widens on your face.

he smiles too, despite not being able to see it, you know it's there. "well im a very selective man, i don't just ask anyone on a date." you roll your eyes at that. oh how you should feel so lucky. most times he chooses the place because gojo likes what he likes and your recommendations end up getting shot down or made fun of anyways.

you'd say the best part is that he shows up every time. something about how he detests people who flake on him. which is surprising because if anyone were to be tardy and forgetful, it'd be the man who's maybe a bit too blase about anything that doesn't hold his interest for long. that includes when and where his missions are, a flailing hand brushing off any bit of urgency or seriousness. picks and chooses the things he finds worthy of his efforts, his overly exaggerated bouts of emotion—"you wanna go sit by a lake and talk?" people often say he talks too much, besides didn't he just get off the phone with you hours ago.

"we're bonding, there's a difference," you defend, putting your foot down on the matter. if it'd been months earlier, you wouldn't have thought to stand your ground, and maybe a part of you would have been anxious over his reaction but gojo only gives you a pout. shiny, moistened lips giving it away, he's not coming out of this one without a fight and he's annoyed about it. reluctant.

so he'll make an exception, "fine, we'll psychoanalyze each other, how exciting—" the sarcasm is slathered and piled on thick. if he weren't masked you'd kick him in the shin for that eye roll he gives you, childlike almost, given the chance he might even stick his tongue out, "—but i get to choose the place, ah, ah, it's about compromise darling."

——————————————————

later on, when he's three parfaits deep into a sugar rush at a maid cafe, he admits, "you scare me sometimes," of course, he understands the importance of communication, and getting to know one another is part of the deal, this is what girlfriends and boyfriends do, but— "how are you still here?" there's something hidden in his question, sometimes it feels almost like he's testing you to see if you'd be offended, taken aback, huffing out indignantly and stomping away, making him watch you leave.

still, your answer remains the same. "i like you," you sigh out into the night, feeling his arms wrapped around your middle. gojo doesn't need worshipping or sacrifices made to please and appease, but he’s feeling ten feet tall in this body, too long and large, housing power he didn’t ask for.

“you really mean that?” he whispers in the crook of your neck, you don’t miss the hint of self-deprecation there, or the uncertainty.

so you reach a hand up, just enough to hold his head full of self-doubt, “yes," is all that's needed for him to crumble. walls coming down.

"you're the only woman i've ever been with," he admits. waiting for the moment you face away from him so it's not as revealing, not as vulnerable, and he can say it with just that little bit of courage because he wouldn't see your reaction, he's escaped death many times, he'd be able to say it now, say it here. "and i intend to keep it that way..." you know he's waiting in anticipation for the final blow, the real death that comes for him is when he loses you because of how unlikely it sounds, gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, only bedded one woman.

his fingers come up to graze the slope of your shoulder, before he wraps an arm around your chest, pressing his weight into you from behind, wrapping you up, only it's ten times heavier when his admission presses down on your thumping little heart alongside with it.

——————————————————

in the middle of a restaurant in ginza, gojo breaks his chopsticks in half along a deep line with fine precision, before rubbing them back and forth to remove the thin, stray hairs of aspen. there are people who look up when the sound catches their attention, then avert their eyes away. but not before lingering over his striking looks for that split second, blue eyes and white hair, what a combo.

he barely notices at this point, but he does know you’re watching from where you sit. food untouched, like you’re waiting for something to happen. you don’t need his permission he thinks, or at least, no one had ever waited for it. so he explains before you get the chance to ask, getting it out of the way and maybe then you’ll start digging in and he wouldn’t have to sit in this weird, silent tension, “he always did it this way,” gojo shrugs.

you don’t ask who 'he' refers to, “i wasn’t going to say anything,” you reply, nodding along, trying to ease some of the nerves there because this isn't to do with the chopsticks, but that gojo gets like this around christmas. actually, he gets like this almost all the time these days.

“why aren’t you eating? the unagi’s really nice,” he points to the piece of eel that’s cooked to perfection, glazed and sticky. “is it not to your liking?” he looks up quickly, searching your face, looking for any sign of distaste.

“it’s fine,” you stop him from waving down the waiter, knowing he intends to order something else for you. but he never asks, not about what you would prefer or if you had any aversions to seafood. instead, he plays a guessing game, only tries, and tries again. hoping that he’d get it right immediately. just another thing satoru does. that he's way more accommodating than most would give him credit for. so much so you forget that he's barely touched the unagi himself, choosing instead to nudge it closer to you.

and maybe he’d been to used to this, maybe he’d always gotten it right with the one before you, maybe that’s why it hurts so much. and you're too occupied with wiping tears behind a blindfold that night to make sense of it when he can’t stop dreaming about long silken hair tucked into a bun, of a scent that lingers on a street crossing and by a classroom window.

still, he tucks a finger underneath the band. revealing clumped-up strands of white, silver, grey...a storming ocean swirls. a woman finally found, what a sight to behold. who chooses him and cleaves his heart in two every time she so much as smiles, calls him by his name, and touches his skin with her own. gently at first and then in a pressured, firm grip. "i'm not going anywhere," hand wholly encompassing his, fingers entwined, or maybe it's the other way around. gojo's got a wide expanse of palm, life and heart lines spanning across a region of an untouched, unmarred surface, all the power to bend space, time, and an infinity simmering above it.

“it’s gonna be okay,” you say, feeling a minuscule gap close where you finally feel him, really feel him.

#happy belated gojo unsealed day #brought this one out of the drafts and dusted it off #gojo satoru #gojo hcs #gojo headcanons #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru hcs #sunpiece

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ryker-writes · 1 year

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Hi! I love reading about your sibling head-cannons, and just recently read the bad ending for a broken relationship with Azul. And for as much as I like angst (occasionally), I was wondering if you could write what a potential good ending for a broken relationship with azul would look like?

Thank you so much! It's so rare that people request happy endings for these. For those who didn't see the other parts to this series, you can find them on my broken sibling masterlist. The beginning of this one starts off where the original broken relationship ended, which you can find here

Broken Sibling relationships

Request rules and Masterlists

Azul as a sibling (broken relationship: forgiveness ending)

you found out that all of his contracts got destroyed so you weren't bound to yours anymore

but you still didn't call him brother

he didn't want that anyway so it just sort of stayed

after his overblot he started acting different

while he still didn't talk to you much at first, he was around you more often

he didn't spend as much time in the VIP room and actually came out to work with everyone else

sometimes he did sort of...hover near you

it was like he wanted to say something, but instead he'd just fidget and look frustrated

the twins seemed entertained by it at least

and then he invites you to the VIP room again

when you enter he's a bit fidgety and won't look at you

you ask if he wants another contract and he's surprised

no one has even mentioned contracts to him since he overblotted

but he says no and that he actually has a new work schedule for you

when you take a look you're amazed

less hours and you don't have to do those horrible jobs anymore???

it was really amazing

since then he even has been trying to make conversation with you

he's incredibly awkward about it tho

he doesn't know what to say so he's searching for something you may be interested in

he wishes he did more research on you in the past to know what you like now

still, he's trying

but what really changed was his attitude towards you

so when some customers were being annoying and complaining about you one day, he actually came to your defense

"Excuse me? It would be wise to watch what you say. After all, that's my sibling you're talking about."

it's safe to say you were stunned

did he just call you his sibling?

after all this time of insisting you didn't call him brother...

maybe it was some mistake?

maybe he didn't mean to say it

but then he snaps his fingers and the twins are dragging that person out of the lounge

what are you even supposed to do now?

do you ask him about what just happened?

does he not want you to address it?

before you can start considering your options, Azul spins around to you and there's a moment of silence

then he just sighs and tells you to meet him in the VIP room before scurrying off

when you got to the VIP room, Azul was sitting behind his desk and fidgeting uncomfortably with his quill

you were reminded of when he brought you here to make you sign that contract

but he looked much more nervous this time

sitting down on one of the couches, he took a deep breath before starting

"I...I wanted to talk to you...about everything that happened. I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

he paused and took another deep breath

"I've realized that I've been treating you horribly for a long time now, and I'm sorry. You used to want to support and defend me and all I did was push you away. On top of that, I was cruel to you. I know that saying I'm sorry won't fix anything, but if you'll allow it, I would like to try and make things better."

it was quiet for a minute as you processed everything

he was really apologizing

and seemed genuine about it too

Azul...

he actually wants to be your brother again

"Okay Azul. Let's make things better."

the quill fell from his hand and he seemed surprised for a moment

but then he smiled

not his businessman smile, but his real genuine smile

from then on, Azul was more open about trying to make things better

he wasn't awkwardly lingering or struggling (as much) to make conversation

sometimes there would be a pause while he thinks of something to say or ask without feeling awkward, but he's trying

one of the first things Azul did was try to learn what you were interested in and somehow get involved either by learning about it or if you're lucky, trying it for himself

he even started to take time away from the lounge to hang out with you and meet some of your friends

there was even one instance where he was going to leave the lounge with you to head to Sam's shop when the twins stopped him

they told him that he may be needed at the lounge

and all he said was

"I can't right now. I'm busy."

it wasn't much, but it was amazing

not too long ago, he wouldn't give you the time of day and favored both the twins and his contract business over you

but today, he chose to spend time with you

he really has changed

(I had an idea about the reader like suggesting a contract where the reader will support him like they always wanted to and in return Azul has to like be a better brother but I scrapped that because the chances anyone would want to sign a contract with him after everything is low-)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twst azul x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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mysticsublimeperson · 2 months

Text

<< part 2 >>

Merlin woke up feeling cranky, he didn't exactly sleep. It resembled more to several disgusting and sweaty naps, and a lot of self deprecating introspection in between.

So Merlin decided to stop trying around 10 am, and moved to the sofa. He didn't have anything to do that day, they weren't waiting for him in the lab, nor in the office, they all thought he would have been too hangover. Funny.

He needed to get out, to get coffee, to try and look for a new perspective, or at least a solution, so he got up and dressed and went to open the door.

A sharp thud sounded when something collide to the ground.

"Arthur?"

"Shit, er... Merlin, sorry, good morning?" Arthur was trying to blink away the heaviness.

"Were you sleeping in my hallway?" Merlin was really confused now. Arthur had always been a bit of a prat, and he grew up rich (and still was very rich, even if he denied it) so he was posh. In all the years he knew him, Arthur had never volunteered himself to discomfort, because he could afford not to.

"Yeah, I.. Well, you told me to go, but then I thought that if I went then I would have to come back in a few hours, and well it was really early in the morning, and I didn't bring my car, so I would have to call for a car and then, well come back, and wold spend like a proper half hour just pacing around my flat, just so far away from you... guessed you also wouldn't be answering your phone, so waiting here seemed like the better option. But now that I say it out loud, it sounds kinda stalk-ish" He said sheepishly, his voice was still deep, and slow. Trying to recover from sleep. He stood up, but was supporting in the door frame. "It's just... you seemed really upset. I know I was the reason, but" he gulped "you are always for me when I'm like that..." Merlin sighed.

"Come in" Merlin talked with a controlled voice. He would have wished for a little more time to figure this out, but if he was honest maybe more time would have only made him more paranoid.

"I, er, yeah, thank you" It was extremely strange to hear Arthur so insecure, but Merlin needed to focus on his situation, and not fall into old habits. "How.. How did it go? Yesterday I mean, sorry I didn't ask sooner"

Bad, he wanted to say.

You ruined it, he wanted to shout.

I missed you, he wanted to cry.

"Fine, I guess" he didn't want to offer information, he sat in the sofa again.

Arthur gulped again and put on a tight smile. "I see" sitting beside him.

"And you? How was your dinner?" Merlin suddenly felt tired again, he didn't want to shout, or yell, he didn't want to incriminate or fight, he just wanted this situation to be over. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several

"Merlin. I am so sorry" he said after a while. Without looking at him. "I know there's no excuse... and the way I treated you when you arrived here too... you didn't deserved that" his voices sounded tight.

If this had been any other day, Merlin would have folded, he would have told him that it was forgotten. Any other day, Merlin would have bitten the bullet of disappointment, and would have try to understand his point of view, his situation. Any other day...

"Arthur" he said after a long silence "I think it's time for us to rethink about what we want from this relationship" he could see the moment all the muscles in Arthur's body tensed up.

"What do you mean?" He sounded so scared, and Merlin fought the urge to hold him.

"What I mean Arthur it's that, this relationship can't go on like this forever" Merlin breathed slowly, trying to express himself as accurately as posible "I feel like im living on borrowed time with you, and even if you are the one in the wrong, I feel like I should just be grateful to have you a little longer, no matter how you much you may hurt me"

"That's not true Merlin, please, I would never intentionally hurt you. how can you think that? I love you" he finally looked Merlin in the eye. They were red and swollen, and a bit desperate.

"I know you love me Arthur, I believe you" he tried to swallow the knot in his throat "but sometimes that's just not enough" Merlin sat back at the sofa, looking at the ceiling. The same ceiling he had been looking since he arrived yesterday, thinking the same things, over and over. "I know you love me, and I love you, more than anything. But I also know that you would never invite me to a company dinner, you would never even acknowledge me in front of your coworkers, you would purposely hide me from your dad..."

"Merlin" Arthur said his name like a warning.

"Im not trying to be resentful Arthur" Merlin spat "they're just facts. Like the fact that you hate your job, and it makes you miserable. But you would never leave. Even if it's a shit job, at a horrible and inmoral company" he kept his tone neutral, he wanted to make a point "I would never ask you to leave, because a would never want to put you in a position where you would need to choose"

"Merlin" now his name sounded like a prayer, and a question.

"I think I always knew that I really never had a chance if you had to choose" suddenly his voice quivered.

"That's not..."

"Arthur please!" he really didn't want to hear empty promises, so he made a gesture for him to wait "I told you that yesterday was important, you knew that. And you choose him" he will not cry, no more "You ditched me, last minute. You left me alone even though I told you I Wanted you with me" his words bouncing on the walls.

"I didn't think..." Arthur was trembling a bit. And he looked like his world had been rocked and put upside-down.

"Arthur, you already have a life planed out. And you are the one that's choosing to keep it that way, you are going with the plan. And one day I will have to see how the papers and magazines cover the stories of you ascending to CEO of the world's most evil construction company, and marrying a young nice pretty girl, who is really boring and bratty but also insanely rich and has good connections, and have three beautiful very normal and healthy kids... all while I keep fighting with my little NGO to change the status quo that you reinforce. Don't you see that you don't have space for me in your future?" all the resolve to keep his cool abandoned him mid speech but at least he got it out. Arthur was looking at him like he had just told him that he only had a minute to live.

"I don't see a future without you Merlin" Arthur said, really softly, eyes shining with soon to be shed tears.

It hurt Merlin to hurt Arthur.

He never wanted to hurt Arthur.

Merlin brought up his legs and hugged his knees, hiding his face momentarily biting his lips hard, while blinking away the tears. "I love you Arthur, and I don't think I could leave you alone if I wanted to. But I think this relationship... it puts unfair expectations, for both of us" Merlin swallowed "It's not fair for me to expect something you are not ready, nor willing to give" he argued as calmly as he could. "I suppose we work better as friends"

He could see Arthur wanted to fight.

He also could see that Arthur had seen his point.

"What if...?" Arthur started, shaky. "What if I leave?" Merlin's brows furrowed confused. "My father, I mean. What If I leave him? What If I leave Pendragon Constructions? Everything... what if i..." he was starting to stammer and was not making sense. So Merlin took his hands.

"Why would you do that?" I was the genuine confusion in his expression that made Arthur sob.

"Because I love you Merlin!" he practically screamed with broken voice and desperate eyes. "please" begged silently.

"I think that if you do that. You'll resent me, eventually" he tried to reason while giving a reassuring squeeze to his hold "He is your father Arthur, you love him, and you want to make him proud, I understand that" even when he knew what it meant for himself "But you also are better than he could ever be" he assured "You won't ever lose me, I'll just need some space"

"I don't think I can do that" Arthur spoke carefully while caressing his hand "I don't know how to, I don't want to" he breathed trying to calm himself. "But I will try for you if you want me to" he swallowed "But don't misunderstand. I am not giving up on us. I won't" using his hold he pulled Merlin in for a hug. "I am sorry, I am sorry I disappointed you, I am sorry you felt like that, but above all I am sorry that you are right" he hugged him strongly and Merlin tried and failed nor to melt in his arms. "But this won't be the end Merlin, you are right for now. I will work, everyday, every moment to deserve you, to make you feel loved, to prove to you and to myself that I can become the man that you think I can be, and when that day arrives, Merlin I will sweep you off your feet" he talked those words like it was a threat, directly in his ear, while holding him close, so Merlin decided that just one last time, he would believe in him.

He would keep hoping.

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puhpandas · 9 months

Note

So for a writing prompt,

Vanessa meeting an ex gf/bf (whatever u want) at a supermarket. While Gregory and Freddy just listen to the tea or have shenanigans around the supermarket.

Ghosted

(915 words)

"Can I have some gushers?"

Vanessa clicks her tongue. "You already have captain crunch in the buggie."

Gregory frowns, and looks longingly at the the package when they pass the shelf it's on. "But..."

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "Why dont you get some broccoli or something? Brussel sprouts?"

Gregory pauses, and gives her a long, hard stare.

"Alright then." She says simply. "Shouldnt you want to eat healthily? You didnt exactly have a very good diet on the streets."

"Isnt that exactly why I should get to have the gushers?" Gregory counters when Vanessa picks off some tortilla chips and cheese dip off of the shelf. "I deserve them!"

Vanessa sighs, and turns to see Gregory using his unnaturally big eyes to his advantage.

"Surely Gregory should be able to have a special treat or two, Vanessa." Freddy says from behind Gregory, muffled by his backpack.

Vanessa sputters. "You're on his side?"

Freddy hums. "I just think that Gregory has a point, that is all."

Vanessa rolls her eyes, and turns the buggie back around with a sigh. "Shouldn't you of all people be advocating for eating your veggies?" She points out.

"Eating some sugary gummies does not equal not eating your vegetables, Vanessa. As long as you keep a balanced diet, indulging in unhealthy snacks is no issue--"

"Yeah, yeah." She cuts him off, and rolls the buggie to a stop in front of some fruit snacks.

"You can have some fruit gummies." She says, and points at a two-pack box of Welch's fruit snacks. "Not the gushers. You can have those next time, when you haven't already picked out an unhealthy snack."

Gregory huffs, but he takes the box anyway and puts it in the buggie.

"Better than nothing." Gregory says, then smiles. "Thanks."

Vanessa smiles back, and leans on the buggie. At least those are healthier than sugary fruit gushers. And Gregory seems happy. Maybe she isnt so crap at this.

The pleasant moment is cut off by a familiar voice behind her.

"Vanessa?" A woman asks, and Vanessa jumps, turning around. "Is that you?"

Oh. Vanessa thinks when she realizes who it is. Oh, no.

"So it really is you." Olivia says, voice unimpressed. "You really had me worried, Vanessa, I mean, what was I supposed to think?"

Gregory is silent beside her, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Vanessa sputters, avoiding eye contact.

"I-- Um-- Listen Olivia I--"

"Dont." Olivia says. "I dont want an apology. I just wish that you would have just told me you weren't interested instead of ghosting me."

Gregory makes a face beside her, eyes wide and mouth open in a small O, and he looks way too into it.

"I--" Vanessa tries, but she cuts herself off. 'I'm sorry, Olivia. I really was interested in you, but a crazy robot using the face of a decades old serial killer took over my mind and forced me to cut off any contact with all other people to complete his evil deeds!' Is what she wants to say, but being seen as a bitch seems like a better option than being seen as an insane freak.

So she just stays silent, and Olivia scoffs, looking insulted.

"Nothing to say to that, huh?" Olivia says, a sour look on her face. "Fine, see if I care. I just hope the next girl to start talking to you doesn't get far enough to be heartbroken like I was."

And with that, Olivia turns and walks briskly away, her brown hair flipping sassily over her shoulder and trailing behind her like a tailcoat.

Its completely silent except for the general milling about of people around them and beeps from self checkout scanners for a moment. Then, she finally tears her eyes away from the spot Olivia walked away from her and looks down when she sees movement.

Gregory looks like something hilarious just occured, and he looks up at her gleefully when she makes eye contact with him.

She rolls her eyes when he starts laughing, and she huffs, eyes dead set in front of her as she tries to push the buggie to get away from him.

"Who was that, Vanessa?" Freddy asks from behind Gregory, who's clumsily following behind her and almost bumping into people and their carts from how hard hes laughing. Vanessa tries not to let her mood sour too much.

"Olivia." She answers. "She was my..." She tries to find the right words. "...we were talking, and were about to start dating, but then..."

She trails off, and Freddy hums and looks at her sympathetically from Gregory's backpack. "I understand, Vanessa. You do not have to continue."

"That was awesome." Gregory finally refills his lungs after almost busting one laughing too hard at her relationship failure. "The drama. It was too good!"

"I'm glad you like my misery, brat." She says, rolling her eyes.

He just has another short burst of laughs, and then tries to quiet down. "I did like it. Very much. Why cant that happen <i>all</i> the time?"

"Because usually," Vanessa says. "I dont ghost people because I had my brain hijacked."

Gregory giggles. "Oh man, i knew people were obsessed with drama but i never knew it was this funny." He says, then tugs on Vanessa's shirt. "Hey, you gotta start a reality show with me soon, alright?"

Vanessa rolls her eyes, but she just ruffles Gregory's hair, and a small smile appears on her face.

"Sure, squirt. Whatever you say."

ao3 link

#i saw this prompt and was just like omfg nooo 😭😭#such a funny idea thank u for the prompt #pandas writes #prompt #my fics #ficlet #3 star fam #vanessa #gregory #gregory and vanessa #fnaf #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanessa #glamrock freddy #long post #swearing #donut holes

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crazyvaleska · 1 year

Text

Listen To Me | Jerome Valeska x GN! Reader

summary: you are jerome's psychiatrist at arkham asylum and after years of treating him he opens up about his childhood trauma

genre: angst

word count: 8479 (it's a long one folks! so get comfortable and grab ur popcorn & blanket! and tissues.)

warnings: cursing, self harm, mention of sexual assault & domestic abuse, mention of death & suicide, just a lot of angst in general. read at your own risk, you've been warned.

a/n: i started writing this back in august 2022 and finished it just now. been adding small paragraphs to this story every now&then. some paragraphs were written days apart while others were written weeks apart. i'm writing this bc i feel like there aren't many angsty stories with jerome. imo jerome isn't evil but broken. also having read his diary added up a lot to his character as it's pretty depressing. perhaps everyone has a different version of a certain character. here's my version of jerome.

also i got a tiny bit inspired by the harleen graphic novel and the joker movie for this !!

the playlist i was listening to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5E2lk49zurRTAaHq3Nz7FQ?si=7TQxYHDsQ0ypPYkIvlLCpw&utm_source=copy-link

jerome's thoughts are written like this btw!

enjoy! (or don't.)

A huge amount of people would say it is impossible to become a psychiatrist at 18. That must mean they've never been to Gotham City. Here anything is possible. Therefore, you had just graduated medical highschool when you were offered a job at Arkham Asylum and you had no choice but to take it. You were aware of the risks of working in a place surrounded by criminally insane lunatics, but you didn't really have another option. You needed a job. Besides, taking risks never ever scared you. Though many viewed Arkham as a spooky place, to you it was interesting. Treating mentally unwell criminals was challenging because you liked helping people, no matter who they were.

What you didn't know was that one of the patients you would have to treat was none other than the infamous Jerome Valeska himself, probably one of the most demented and wicked being Gotham City had ever know.

Yet, you thought his character was rather fascinating. After all, you had known Jerome for years.

Jerome Valeska. How do you even begin to explain Jerome Valeska?

You first met him right after he killed his mother, the first time he was in prison. Before he died. Before he was an infamous murderer. And you had to admit, he did become more intimidating as years passed by.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about him at first, same old story about the son committing matricide. Though, he never told you the entire story. You noticed he was uncomfortable and you didn't want to push, everybody had their boundaries and you respected that.

If you had to describe in one word the way he was acting in his firsts therapy sessions, you would use the word "flirty". Sort of. A mix of charisma and inappropriate jokes.

He told you he didn't plan on killing anyone else, claiming that the murdering of his mother was something personal. For some reason, you chose to believe him. Until Theo Galavan happened. It was like the Jerome you once knew had completely vanished. He was the same and a different person at the same time. You almost felt sorry for him. But then again, you weren't supposed to get attached to your patients. Jerome was charming and all, but he probably didn't feel the same way you did. He was just a kid after all, and so were you. Both 18. The only difference was, you were trying to cure insanity while he was trying to spread it.

A few days later he died. Actually, was murdered. Poor thing, you thought. You wished you had more time to know him. You wished you could've helped him. You knew small parts about him but not his entire story.

You had hoped you would forget him as time flew by, but you didn't. His evil crackle never left your dreams. It was always there. You could hear it all the time, as if he was trying to reach you. It was torturing you. Yet pleasant at the same time. You missed him, truth be told. But you knew he was in a better place now. Or so you thought.

That was until he was resurrected. Being honest, you weren't exactly surprised. This was Gotham City, after all. Everything was possible in Gotham. The actual shock was seeing him faceless and unconscious. You wondered how much strength does one require in order to be able to staple their face without passing out. Jerome's pain tolerance was so high, it concerned you.

By the time the ginger maniac was sent back to the Asylum, his face had been attached back to its place. He was hideously scarred now, wearing a permanent disturbingly bright smile. Although, to you he looked fine. Somehow attractive. You weren't sure why. Maybe it was simply your questionable taste in men. At the same time, he was much more intimidating now, much more grown. And as a result to him dying by being stabbed in the throat, his voice had also changed. It sounded more threatening now.

"It's good to have you back, Jerome!" you said in his first therapy appointment of the year, a warm, kind smile on painted on your lips.

His reply came out natural, "Well, at least someone missed me." but his face was expressionless and emotionless, and his voice numb, as if he had lost his spark.

To most, he was simply just out of his mind, a low-life criminal, but you felt there was more than that. You desperately wanted to know what made him the way he was, what made him turn to a life of crime, because you knew no one was born evil, not even in a city like Gotham (though he wasn't born in Gotham) it was usually the environment that could cause one's insanity. And you could see it in his eyes: he wasn't born bad. He was shaped evil, but not born evil. But then again, anyone could go insane with just one bad day.

Jerome was very charismatic, he could get anyone do whatever he wanted. Nevertheless, he was an amazing liar, you couldn't ever tell when he was speaking the truth and when he wasn't. He didn't seem to care about the way others felt and showed lack of remorse, he was impulsive and manipulative, deceitful and reckless. He was extremely narcissistic and showed lack of empathy towards others, and you had diagnosed him with Psychopathy Cluster B Personality Disorders and Schizophrenia. The ginger was on different medications. Sometimes he didn't take them, other times he did and not only his, but others' as well . You had told him multiple times how that was no good for him, but he never listened.

The thing about Jerome was, you never knew what he would be like in your therapy sessions. Sometimes you felt like you knew Jerome, but did you really? Oftentimes his behavior was passive aggressive, other times he would crack up jokes and you actually enjoyed his company, getting lost into his mesmerizing hazel eyes, as if you two were actually friends. Most of the times he just stayed quiet though, especially if you mentioned his family. Sure, he had no problem talking about killing innocents but once you switched the subject to the murdering of his mom, for example, he would tilt his head and pretend he didn't hear you or just say the same old story about her being mean, but you suspected it wasn't just that, you could see it in his eyes that part of him was still... hurt? His eyes spoke volumes. Although he always tried to hide it by pretending to be a God, deep down he hated himself. But of course he didn't want anyone else to know that, he didn't want to be seen as weak. Not anymore. He knew better than that. You noticed this thing about Jerome, he tried to act unbothered all the time but he always did this head tilting thing whenever he felt uncomfortable. Sure, Jerome was always surrounded by people, mostly his followers, but being around people doesn't mean you actually trust them. And you couldn't blame him for having trust issues considering he was stabbed to death by the only person he ever trusted. You could only imagine the feeling of betrayal he felt. That must have been traumatizing, but he had never ever addressed it.

One rainy Thursday the young Valeska told you he was upset because there wasn't any pudding left at the cafeteria. So the following day, Friday, you came up with an idea that could get you killed, but it was worth a try.

It was getting dark, your shift was over and you were supposed to go home. But instead of heading towards the Asylum's exit you found yourself walking towards its core, towards one certain inmate's cell, inmate E-146's cell: Jerome's cell. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous, because you were. You didn't have anything to defend yourself on you. If anything, you were aware you were walking towards something that could be mean your sudden death.

You did have to pay bribe to the prison wardens that guarded his cell. They warned you about the homicidal redhead, but you liked to believe you weren't scared of him. To you, Jerome wasn't scary-looking. What really scared you was his mind. You had read his criminal record thus you knew what he was capable of. Even though you tried to tell yourself he won't hurt you, truth was you had no idea what he'd do or say, he was unpredictable.

First time you stepped foot in his cell was an experience you weren't going to forget anytime soon. The room was smaller than you though it would be. Not that you were expecting any kind of luxury. But this was worse than anything you had ever imagined. The first thing you noticed was the extremely low temperature, it was bone-chilling. No wonder why Jerome sounded sick all the time. Four gray walls and a dark ceiling that looked like it could collapse over you at any given moment. A bed for one person that was placed next to a prison porthole and near it a small, cheap table with an old chair in front of it. The smell wasn't very welcoming either, you thought rats were the only thing missing from the picture.

Jerome didn't notice you initially, he was busy writing in something that appeared to be a notebook. You cleared your throat loudly, which made him jump. You caught him off guard, quite literally. He looked equally shocked and confused to see you.

"Whatcha doing here, doc?" the redhead asked as he sat up. He placed the pencil down and closed his book, then took small steps closer to you. Only now that you were both standing up at the same time you noticed how tall he actually was. In the therapy room, his arms were always folded together in a shinny white straightjacket that prevented him from harming the doctor before him. You had actually never seen Jerome with his arms free so close to you before. He was wearing his stripped prison uniform instead of that tight straightjacket and you could tell he was way more muscular than you thought, his hands were enormous, he could knock you out in a second. His looks should've alarmed you but for some reason they didn't. Actually, you were happy to see his body looked healthy. Everybody said he looked like a nightmare, but to you he was the opposite. You shook your head quickly trying not to think of that or anything potentially inappropriate.

You hitched your breath nervously as you took a few steps back. "I told you already, you can call me Y/N... Uh, yesterday you said there wasn't any pudding left for you so I thought I would...um ... I... well," you stuttered while searching for something in your bag. The man raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. You reached your hand out, holding a bowl of chocolate pudding, "I-I... I made it myself! And I paid the guards to leave..." you said in a low murmur.

The unsurety in your voice didn't go unnoticed and it made Jerome grin. He walked even closer to you and crossed his arms while nodding, "That's so brave of you, Y/N! But you do realize I could poke your eyeballs out and squash you like a bug right about.... now!" he hissed. The next thing you felt was your chin being lifted up by his gloved hand, holding it in a tight grip, forcing you to face him. You avoided looking directly into his eyes so you just stared at his hand. Unfortunately for you, that seemed to bother him, "My eyes are up here," he used his free hand to point at his eyes.

The fabric of his white glove was soft but his touch was aggressive and harsh, the clutch on your chin was hard, "... I just... I just came here to give you this, nothing more." At first, Jerome was very sceptical, not believing any of it. He even thought the pudding was poisoned and insisted on you having a try before he did. The rest was history.

That happened approximately one year prior. You had spent the last 12 months seeing Jerome 2 times a week: one time during his therapy appointments every Thursday, the other time every Friday night, when most of the Asylum's staff had gone home. You had stolen they keys to his prison cell and no one knew about your late at night meetings with the clown prince.

The first times everything was pretty awkward, Jerome used to search your bag and pockets for any sharp objects that you could potentially use against him. But with time he stopped doing that. Approximately after 6 months.

You mostly brought him food, especially sweets, Jerome loved candies but he wasn't allowed to eat those in prison. Sometimes you even played cards with him and he would win every game, the boy knew how to play the jokers, that's certain. He did make inappropriate jokes from time to time, but nothing that made you too uncomfortable. He never touched you or anything like that. Everything stayed platonic.

One time you attached a colorful self-made bracelet to his wrist. You had a similar one on yours. Jerome pretend he didn't like it, telling you that friendship jewels were a waste, but truth be told, he liked it, he wore it all the time, he liked playing with it beads. Of course, he made sure it stayed hidden underneath his sleeve. He didn't want anyone else to see him like that. He had a reputation to uphold. Thus sometimes he would threaten your life in a playful manner just because he was Jerome Valeska.

You had also noticed the ginger was great at arts and crafts so you brought him crayons. Lots of them. The previous week you even brought him a scissors after he had begged you to for weeks. He promised he wasn't going to hurt other prisoners with it. He was using those to draw and decorate his diary. You knew he had a personal journal that he had never showed you. But you were cool with that. Though you wished he could open up to you, you didn't want to push, you wanted him to talk to you because he wanted to, not because he had to. All you knew was that you desperately wanted to help him get better. You didn't feel that way about other patients. Obviously, you wanted to help them too, but with Jerome it was different. Not that you would ever admit it out loud, but you had grown some sort of crush on the maniac. You knew how wrong that was, but you couldn't help the way he made you feel everytime his eyes met yours or when he smiled at you. You came to the realization that Jerome wasn't half as bad unless he was surrounded by other loonies or by people he despised. He was quite chill aside from his maniacally laughter.

Although Jerome didn't own a watch, he simply knew what time you were supposed to show up. In fact, he had actually grown to like your little visits. At first he found all of this annoying and irritating, but with time he changed his mind. You weren't so bad after all. Actually, he was waiting impatiently each of your visits. You were nice to him. Not a lot of people were nice to him. Nobody, actually. Just you.

Therefore you being late one certain night didn't go unnoticed. Strange, Jerome thought at first. You had never been late before. Was this all? Did you spend all that time with him only to leave him like that? Did you replace him with another patient? Did you get bored of him? Did something bad happen to you, perhaps?

Jerome shook his head. He didn't like to picture you dead. Why was that? He loved everything about death and killing, blood and gore. Why did it bother him now? He promised himself he wouldn't get attached. No, no, Jerome Valeska didn't give a shit about anyone. He was heartless. A monster. Everybody said so, so then it must be true. So what if you died? Who cared? Not him, that's for sure. Yeah.

But then, why had he been walking circles in his small cell for minutes? Why was he breathing heavier and why did he have an awful gut feeling? And now how did he find himself in this position again? Sitting on his bed, facing the wall with teary eyes, clinching his fists anxiously and twiddling his trembling thumbs. There were drops of dark red blood on his already dirty mattress. Drops of blood between the beads of his bracelet. When did that happen? He could vividly remember when he started pressing the scissors down his wrist. It all happened so fast. He didn't even apply much pressure and yet he had managed to draw enough blood to cover his fingertips. How did he end up like this? Like a sobbing mess. Why did you do this to him? Why did you give him hope? He should've known better. Humans are deceitful beings. They lie and they never keep their promises. One day they love you, the next they don't need you anymore. So he really didn't learn anything from trusting Theo Galavan after all. He remembered it as clear as day. He thought he could finally be happy when Theo came along, gave him a proper bed and proper clothes. He was like the father he never had. But then his life flashed before his eyes as he dropped dead by the hand of the one man he thought was trustworthy.

Oh, dear ol' Jerome. Getting attached to the first person to treat him like a normal human being again. So all those times you took care of him were all on act. Of course. Why was he so stupid? Stupid enough to think anyone would ever care about him. Of course it was all a lie. He hated you. This was pathetic. Everyone was pathetic. Crying was pathetic. Crying was for the weak. Jerome wasn't weak. Not anymore. But what if, perhaps, you weren't even real? What if he had been imagining you the whole time? After all, it was all too good to be true. But maybe that's just the way life is: it hits you harder than a train truck, then you feel good for a while because you start doing things that distract you from how you truly feel, killings in his case. But then you realize you weren't ever really happy, just delusional and that makes you depressed again. It's like a never ending loop.

The boy shivered at his own thoughts. So many questions at the same time. His mind was suffocating him. But he liked it, didn't he? Or maybe did he just trick himself into thinking he liked it? He liked being sick, right? Who was he without his sickness? Pills. He needed more pills. The pills were never enough. If only he had enough pills to...

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the very familiar sound of his creaky door being unlocked then opened. Jerome knew this could mean one thing. He quickly wiped his teary eyes with his knuckles then clothed his fingers with his gloves. He cleared his throat, "Where were you?" he asked, his voice harsher than ever. He didn't want you to see him vulnerable. He tried to hide it. He didn't want to admit not even to himself he was somewhat worried. But, in fact, he had grown very fond of you. He wasn't sure why, he wasn't sure what he felt towards you. There's a very thin line between love and obsession. All in all, part of him was relieved once he heard your voice.

"I'm sorry, Jerome. I had some things to take care of. Things that involve you, actually," you closed the door behind you and took a few steps forward.

The last sentence got Jerome's attention so naturally he turned his head around to look at you. His stare was so intense it seemed like he was staring directly into your soul. His hazel eyes were so beautiful yet so terrifying, you couldn't stare at them for too long. The dark circles under his eyes were darker than ever and you wondered if he ever slept. It was your job to help him get better but it seemed that he was getting worse everyday, like he was losing himself therefore you were failing. But you had to pull him out of his misery. You had to.

"You threatened Oswald Cobblepot," Jerome couldn't help but snicker proudly at your remark before you could continue your sentence "And you also took his medicine. How many times have I told you that taking meds you don't need only makes things worse?" you paused but the boy didn't reply. He knew it was bad, he just couldn't help himself. You sighed "They want to change your therapist, Jerome. They don't think I'm doing a good job with you."

Jerome's face dropped, "As in you'll be replaced?" he asked and you nodded. No, this wasn't possible. You were lying, you had to be. First you're late, now this. The redhead jumped out of his bed and walked up to you, "You're lying."

"Jerome-" you started but he didn't let you finish.

"Don't you dare to Jerome me. You're an hour late and now you're telling me you wanna get rid of me?" his tone went from numb to mad in a matter of seconds.

"I'm so sorry for the waiting, I'll try my best to keep you. I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die."

That only made Jerome crackle in an ironic manner "Oh please, Y/N. Don't make promises you know you can't keep. Empty promises. You're growing tired of me. It's funny, actually. I think this may be just my luck! Jeremiah promised he wouldn't leave too, but he did anyhow. And now you."

"Who's Jeremiah? I don't know what you're talking abo..." you felt like you couldn't breathe as panick took control over your body, "...why is there blood on your gloves?"

Shit, Jerome thought. "It's paint," he smiled but you knew he was lying the moment he tried to change the subject "Jeremiah's an old acquaintance, if you will."

"I never brought you paint..." you murmured. Then you remembered what you did bring him. The scissors. "You promised you won't hurt anyone with it..." you whispered.

Jerome shrugged, "I promised I wouldn't other inmates. I never promised I wouldn't hurt... myself...!"

Your eyes opened widely at the sudden realization. You covered your mouth with your fingers and your heart was beating impossibly fast while tears were filling your eyes. It was only now that you noticed his slightly puffy eyes too, "I'm so sorry... Jerome... oh God..." you muttered. He didn't look at you until he felt your hand on his.

Jerome hesitated to speak at first, "Oh, y'know... the scissors just slipped. I'm fine, really. No need to worry about me. If anything, I like bleeding out."

You knew that wasn't true. "I'm gonna get the doctor... we need to get it patched up."

"Then they'll know you're here."

"I don't care. I'll probably lose my job anyway. You hurt yourself, Jerome. You could get an infection. Fuck, I was supposed to help you get better but I didn't do shit! Now you're bleeding and it's all because of me-" you were cut off by Jerome's gloved hand covering your mouth.

"Shh. I'm fine, Y/N. It's not that serious. It's just... I don't feel safe when my scars are healed. I need to bleed to calm myself. It's like a part of me. It's my biggest comfort."

You tried to mumble something underneath his hand which made him frown, "I don't need your pity, Y/N. You're trying to weaken me, it won't work," he moved his hand, giving you the chance to speak.

"Please, Jerome. I care about you! I won't let you hurt yourself any longer!" you cried out. It was true. You would've done anything for him and it hurt you knowing he was harming himself. He thought he had it all under control but clearly he didn't. You were scared of what he could do to himself next. You couldn't just watch him destroying himself knowing you could've helped him.

Jerome shook his head repeatedly and covered his ears with his plams while circling around the room, mumbling things to himself. Eventually, his voice got louder and louder, "NO NO NO NO NO! No, you don't, stop saying that! Cut the bullshit, Y/N! You don't care about me, no one does! Jerome has no one, Jerome's all alone! It's how it's always been. It's how it's always gonna be. What the fuck do you want from me? Look at me! I have wanted to die for as long as I can remember. And guess what? When I finally did some jerks thought it'd be funny to bring me back to this shitty life! You think you understand me, but you don't! You can't save me, you can't fix me! What have you done to me? You cracked me! Just leave me alone! Leave me alone! LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!!" he yelled as he shed a single tear.

His face turned red from all the rage and you could swear he was gonna kill you at that very moment, but he didn't. Instead, his body collapsed on the ground. He was hugging his knees while staring at the floor, with his back pressed against the cold wall. You had no clue what just happened but he looked defenseless, practically harmless right now. You knew this was risky, but you kneeled next to him then reached out your hand and caressed his shoulders which caused him to look at you. You didn't see a psychopath in his eyes anymore, just a frightened child. That wasn't the ginger maniac everybody feared. That was a poor boy stuck in his traumatic past.

"Let it out, Jerome. This is why I came here, so we could talk like 2 human beings. Help me understand you. I know I can't take your pain away, but you can talk to me," you whispered.

"I'm not a human being. I'm a monster, can't you see? Everybody fears me. I'm the monster parents tell their children about," he muttered quietly. Usually he said that proudly, but now it sounded as if he was ashamed, which was very out of character. What he felt at that very moment was confusion.

"You're not a monster, Jerome. I have this feeling that... you're misunderstood, like no one ever listened to what you had to say. I am here to listen and I promise I won't laugh or judge. But if you hold everything inside you it's only gonna get worse... Let it all out, please." you spoke in a soft murmur.

"I don't even know.... what I am supposed to say," Jerome sobbed.

"Anything that comes to mind, that upsets you, that you wanna get off your chest. What is that one thought that won't let you get rest at night? The things you always wanted to say but nobody ever listened to. The things you always tried to forget because it all hurt too much. I can see the depth and complicity of your character, Jerome. You're not evil. Your past is haunting you, isn't it? I can see it in your face, it was rough. So please, I just want to help you. And I won't tell anyone, you have my word."

The ginger glanced at you with furrowed brows, trying to keep track of his thoughts. He felt something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. He felt helpless and he didn't know why. He didn't know why he suddenly no longer felt in control. Was it because you were the first person to actually look at his wounds concerned instead of laughing? Because you were willing to actually listen to what he had to say? No one had ever told him that before. Except for you. But he couldn't bring himself to entirely believe anyone could actually care about him. His chest was hurting and his heart was aching. He was tired of hiding.

"... okay, I'll tell you everything," he nodded his head eventually, "but I'll never tell this story again so you better be all ears."

You nodded while caressing his once-so-soft-cheek slowly. Initially he shuddered, then he closed his eyes and leaned in your touch, giving you permission to carry on. Tracing your fingers on his cold pale skin made you feel his every scar, but his scars didn't scare you, they never did. You could tell he wasn't used to this kind of stuff. He wasn't used to people treating him like a normal human being. He wasn't used to being touched unless the touch was meant to harm him. He hadn't even started talking but you just knew something terrible was about to come out of his mouth.

The man took a deep breath. He knew that once he started speaking he wouldn't be able to stop. He had been holding all in for so long, it all came out like word vomit.

"Jeremiah is my twin brother. He was always mother's favorite. Mother. Can I even call her that? No, she was never my mom. Lila Valeska never loved me. She never treated me like her son, not even when I was a baby. She had only one son and that was Jeremiah. I was just... there. Like a nephew she had to take care of or something. But not a son, no. She always said I ruined her life. Yeah, like it's my fault she had unprotected sex. But I could never understand why she praised Jeremiah all the time. What was so special about him? What was he doing so much better than me to get that kind of appreciation from mama when we were just 5 years old? I can only remember he was into maths and puzzles and that kind of shits from a young age. He pissed the hell out of me. But I didn't hate him. I mean, at the end of the day he was still my brother. And sometimes he would hold me while that whore was busy banging clowns the next room, assuring me that everything would be alright and that mother didn't actually hate me, promising me that one day we'll get out of the circus and live our best lives. What a dirty little liar...! And to think I actually used to believe his empty promises... Until he turned his back on me."

Jerome paused. His eyes were now filled with anger, you could tell he didn't like his brother much. Then he continued.

"It happened once we turned 7. Lila had hit me multiple times and I don't even remember what was the reason, but then again, it's not like she ever needed a reason to hurt me. Before this it was usually just slaps, but this time it was a proper beating. The sadness mixed with anger I felt at the time were too much to handle for a little boy. I had to somehow let it out, y'know? So... I started mutilating small animals. Soon I grew an interest in murdering them. And it felt... therapeutic. I know I should feel ashamed of this, but I don't. I never did. Hell, I even pretended they were her because I knew I wasn't strong enough to actually hurt her back. How fucked up I must've been to behave this way at 7, right? But things got complicated when Jeremiah found out. He said," Jerome talked in two different thin voices the next parts:

"... ' I understand your anger, 'Romie! I think it's quite interesting, really! '

I actually believed him and replied happily ' You think so, 'Miah? But please don't tell 'ma, she'll get really mad at me! My cheek still hurts from the last slap she gave me! '

' I would never! She hits me too sometimes, you know. But I don't know why she's so mean to you all the time! '..."

Jerome cleared his throat and went back to his usual tone "Well, he kept his promise, kinda. He didn't tell our mother but he told uncle Zach ―and let me tell you this― he was the WORST. Such cruelness in one man. He used to cook food for the other circus members, but he was an ex prisoner, spent years in jail for robbery and rape. Yeah, that's my fucked up uncle. He was a cook and yet I was always left to starve. Mind you but I used to be underweight 'cause of that.

Anyway ...! Dear ol' Zach thought I had gone psychopathic when little 'Miah showed him the dead animals' corpses, so he made sure he worked me over. And, of course, Lila made sure of that as well. And as if those injuries weren't enough, Jeremiah saw this as a perfect opportunity to leave the circus. He started spreading rumors about me kickin' and punching him, feeding my mom and uncle with funny stories about me threatening his life, when the truth is I never touched a hair of his. For him, those were the stories that were gonna get him out of that damned place we so called home. For me, those were the stories that were gonna ruin my life. Even though I tried to defend myself they never believed me, because after all I was the animal abuser while he was the perfect innocent son, with his little nerdy hamster glasses and fancy books and puzzles. And let's just say, it didn't end well for me when he would randomly bring up something that didn't even happen. He had totally brainwashed them and I was lucky if I could get away with just a slap or two. But they didn't abuse me just physically... verbally as well. The amount of times I heard them planning my murdering were countless. And maybe they should have done it. Maybe they should have murdered me. Instead, they used to remind me every single day that I was such a heartless psycho monster who's gonna cause nothing but disaster. Well, I guess they weren't exactly wrong with that one. I mean, just look at me now..." he narrowed his eyes.

"Nobody ever stood up for me. Nobody cared. Nobody. They always managed to cover it all up, they always told me to smile once they were done. I was known as Haly's Circus little sociopath. And Jeremiah? They'd always make sure he was treated right, that he got the best stuff, while I could be freezing at night and they wouldn't even notice.

On our 9th birthday our uncle decided to take Jeremiah to the city away from me so he could celebrate his birthday properly and left me with my mom and her partner at the time. The got drunk and had sex all day, not caring that I was in the same room, beating the shit out of me afterwards. And when I had finally managed to get out of that hell of a trailer, my father ―I didn't know he was my father back then, but he knew I was his son― didn't even try to comfort me, he simply told me to suck it up because nobody cared. And he was right. This world indeed doesn't care about me or anyone else. But for a child? Damn, that hurt. And I suppose it's even sadder now knowing he was my dad...

Moving on, by the time we were almost 10 his lies got worse and worse, and so were the beatings. According to him I had tried to poison him and to light his bed on fire. One time he injured his knee when he fell on the ground, but later lied about me pushing him down the stairs. But the last straw was when he lied about me holding a cake knife to his throat on our 10th birthday. My uncle almost broke my ribs for that and my mom repeatedly kicked my stomach with her legs. Honestly, I can't really remember that day. All I know is that they decided it would be the best if uncle Zach took Jeremiah away while I was asleep. And I'm not gonna lie, I was pleased when I saw they both left, but little did I know that it was only gonna get worse for me.

Haly's Circus is a nightmare dressed like a daydream. A lot of fucked up things happened there. I hated that place. And with Jeremiah gone, she started drinking more and more, and got more aggressive. She got pissed at every little thing I did and made sure I received punishment. Did I forget to do that dishes? She'd kick me. Forgot to take out the trash? She'd slap me across the face. Didn't feed her snake? She'd punch me. Was breathing too heavily for her liking or my existence simply bothered her? She'd beat me till my vision was blurry or till I coughed in my own blood. I did try to get help from the cops, but guess what! They didn't give 2 shits! Ya see, the system is so corrupt they don't care unless someone's been murdered. They made fun of me and I understood no one could ever save me, I was the only one that could free myself from the pain."

You stood quiet when Jerome removed his gloves. You hadn't seen his hands unclothed in a very, very long time. Last time you saw his bare fingers was before he died. His veins were more noticeable now, among with multiple half healed blueish bruises he had probably given himself. Seeing Jerome without his gloves felt like him breaking a wall between the two of you. Like he trusted you. Like he trusted you enough for you to see him at his lowest. He needed to trust you enough to tell you everything. The scarred man was silent for a brief moment, trying to find the right words to describe the next part of his story that made you feel like throwing up.

"On my 14th birthday one of Lila's hookers...how do I say this... one of her hookers touched me, Y/N. Like, parts he shouldn't have touched... And... she was there, watching. She didn't do anything to stop him, she didn't even try. I was crying and screaming and begging her to make him stop. She just laughed. Her awful witch-like laugh followed by her favorite line: ' shut up! boys don't cry! '. And afterwards she just left with him for the night and before that she told me to smile. Smile. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't feel my body. The only thing I could feel were his hands all over my body... To put it into words, I felt worthless and helpless. Smile," Jerome smiled weakly through the tears as he repeated his mother's words, hugging his own body, "Smile. I was smiling that night. I was smiling when I tried to kill myself. It was all too much, I couldn't handle it. My life was a living Hell I started to believe Hell itself couldn't be that bad. So... I just took a bunch of her pills and I thought that was it, I thought I was finally gonna die. I smiled because I thought everything was finally going to end. Sadly, I survived. After taking the pills I dropped down to my knees and then... I don't know. I can't really remember anything except the fact I woke up with a terrible headache. Did she notice? Nope. Did those pills have had an effect on me? Absolutely.

I didn't have anyone to comfort me anymore. Not that Jeremiah was ever a great comfort, but it was better than nothing. I didn't have any friends, 'cause who would wanna befriend the freak who tried to murder his twin and massacred tons of pets? And if anyone tried to get close to me I would push them away. Literally. Push them. Because what was the point in denying my violent urges? Everybody thought I was the villain already anyway."

Jerome paused to blow his nose into a handkerchief you handed him. You were at loss of words. This was a lot to process and Jerome's voice was now shaky. It was painful to hear his life story, it was painful to look at him now, to stare at the helplessness in his eyes. Tough people always have the most heartbreaking pasts.

"I used to cry myself to sleep every night, but I barely managed to fall asleep knowing that she could strangulate me when her snake in my sleep, and I low-key hoped she would so my suffering could end already. But when I did manage to fall asleep I ended up getting a... What was that called? Oh yeah, sleep paralysis. She was the demon suffocating me. Even now... I can't ever properly fall asleep. I'm always half awake. Actually forget I said that... Stupid! stupid...." he cried while gripping on his ginger hairs, scratching his thin pale skin with his sharp nails.

"Jerome," you whispered and took his hands in yours, "it's not stupid. Your emotions are valid. Please, carry on."

The boy nodded and did as you said, "At some point I just stopped talking because my body was hurting so much. I started isolating myself from everything and everyone. Because you see, people like me, we're put in this world for one thing: to suffer. The only thing that made the pain go away for a while was the thought of torturing her, cutting her open and feeding her snake with her organs then bathing in a pool of her blood and maybe sending her bones to Jeremiah. All I know is that I was so sick and tired of her calling me names and spitting on my face, beating me up till I bled, abusing me, banging my head against the wall, ripping my hairs off, punching me with her cold fists, slapping and pinching my skin, throwing empty alcohol bottles at me and kicking my bones. And when she was done with beating me, she'd always call over one of her sex partners to have some fun. I was tired of having to hear her moans as she was getting railed the next room. But I knew better than disturbing her, because if I did she'd invite her lovers to beat me too... or worse. I just had to keep quiet because if I behaved she'd leave me alone for a day or two.

But in time I got used to it. The beatings and all. It didn't even hurt that much anymore. The psychical wounds healed eventually, but the emotionally ones were always there. She didn't even need to get physical, her words were enough to torture me, they were like poisson. Her words cut deeper than a knife. When she wasn't the one hurting me I was hurting myself. That's so messed up, I know. But what isn't messed up about me or my life? I just couldn't help it. I had grown addicted to watching myself bleed. It's like... that was my only comfort. My sadness, my pain... Bugs. There were bugs on my skin, crawling on it. One second they were there, the next they weren't. I had to peel some of my skin off just to make sure. But I liked it. I think. It looked pretty. Such a pretty shade of red...! I could've stared at it for hours. Don't know if I was high or if I just had lost touch with reality. Or maybe both.

I just wished she would just kill me already and be done with it, 'cause it was better to be dead than to be alive and suffering. I just wished that everything would go quiet once and for all. My mind was like a prison I could not escape. My mind was the darkest place. The negative thoughts, they were always there. The voices telling me to do horrible things to myself. People screaming. A thousand voices howling in my head all the time. Dead people. I saw dead people everywhere. I couldn't control it.

Nobody cared about me, so who would've noticed if one day I just disappeared from this world? If one day I just stopped breathing? Definitely not her. If anything, she'd beat my corpse. I mean, she didn't even notice my first attempt.

That's what I told myself as I tried to slash my veins. But then I heard it," his face suddenly lit up, "That voice. The voice. The only comfort I ever had was that voice in the back of my head. That voice that grew louder as the years passed by. That voice that was giving me hope saying ' your day will come, your revenge will come, you just have to be patient '. And I had done my waiting. All the suffering, all the abuse I was forced to endure were about the end. I wasn't gonna let her win. Little did that whore know her beatings gave me strength and a high pain tolerance. Suddenly, all the fear I ever felt towards her turned into hatred and anger. She was going to pay for everything she had ever made me go through. People call me insane but they don't know my insanity gave me strength to save myself from that Hell I used to call home.

So, by the time I was 16 I had already started planning her murdering. I started working out and made better meals for myself so I'd be sure I was stronger than she was. I wanted to no longer be skinny. I had also made the perfect plan to kill her and get away with it.

So on my 18th birthday, like a birthday gift for myself, if you will, I grabbed an axe and chopped her off, hitting her repeatedly with it, digging it up and down into her skin. The first stab was the hardest one, but once I saw blood drawing out I just couldn't stop. I laughed as I did. Seeing her like that, lifeless and all covered in blood made me shiver in a good way. It was like feeling a brand new emotion. I was...happy? Entertained? I had finally given in that voice, I was finally free! That day I promised myself that I would come after my brother and uncle too, they also needed to pay for the way they'd treated me. And after that I'd be finally free to kill myself... I know how fucked up that sounds, but now that you know what they put me through, I hope you understand why I had to do it. There was no other way. One of us had to go. I killed her because she deserved it, self defense really. You get it, right? Tell me you get it, please."

You nodded while massaging his thumbs. His eyes were red and so were yours. You were both crying. Jerome couldn't believe he just told you all of that. He had never told anyone about any of that before. Did he say too much? Did you not want to be near him anymore?

"Jerome, I don't even know where to begin... you are such a strong person, really. You didn't deserve what happened to you. It wasn't your fault. You were just a child, none of this was your fault. No one ever treated you like a human being. No one ever gave you a chance. It's like you were forced to be evil, you didn't have a choice. They made you evil. They turned you into the villain. Of course you snapped eventually. I can't blame you. I would've done the same if I were in your shoes. No one ever gave you the chance to tell the full story. I wish I could take it away. All the pain, all the suffering... Oh, Jerome... I can't even begin to describe how bad I feel for you. Your heart has endured way too much at a way too young age. It's not you who is the monster. It's them. You had and have every right to kill them, I'll even help you. Jerome... I'm so proud of you for staying alive. Jerome, please remember that you matter. You matter to me. I see you, Jerome. I see you for who you are. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? You are a very, very handsome boy."

"Even with the scars?"Jerome smiled, his eyes puffy from crying. Not a threatening or disturbing smile. A genuine smile that made you smile too.

"Absolutely. Your scars just show how strong you are. Your scars make you prettier. I myself ain't a strong person but... I won't let anyone hurt you anymore, you've been through enough. And I won't let you hurt yourself either. Because I care. And you can trust me with anything, Jerome. Let me be the one person that makes you feel like home. Please." you got lost in his gaze. Words weren't enough to express what you felt. So you just hugged him. A gentle, loving hug. Jerome wasn't a touchy person in general, but he gave in and hurled himself into your warm embrace. Soon he was holding you so close to him like he was never going to let you go. Then he cried more. And louder. He cried on your shoulder and you patted his back. This was all new to him, he was still confused by the way he was acting. But it just felt right. He felt safe at last. He wondered if you were an angel sent from Heaven to rescue him. You scooped him up in your arms. Yours arms were tight around him, his head on your chest. He needed this. He needed to feel okay. He needed feel loved and accepted. You held each other for so long you could feel each other's breathing, and you weren't going to let go of each other anytime soon.

"Thank you for listening."

#cameron monaghan #gotham #jerome #jerome gotham #jerome valeska #jerome x reader #jerome valeska x reader #jeremiah #jeremiah gotham #jeremiah valeska #valeska #dc #batman #joker #angst #gender neutral reader

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hyuuukais · 9 months

Text

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ swearing, descriptions of slight panicking

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

☆ partially written chapter, 8 screenshots ☆

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ☆ STICKY SITUATION

"You've got this."

Your reflection stares at you unconvinced. How in the world were you supposed to turn Jake down without ruining years of friendship? Sure he was funny, sweet, loving, everything you'd want in a boyfriend, but for you?

The feelings weren't there.

Now, you could send him a text from the bathroom saying you didn't feel well and hope he didn't see you before, or you could face him. The former seemed the more appealing option, if you were honest. However, it was probably best not to prolong this.

Stepping out of the bathroom with a deep breath, you see him. He's in a small booth in the corner, texting someone.

Your phone buzzes.

Hey, how far are you?

Jake looked up at the buzz, locking eyes with you. You give him a small wave, approaching the table and sitting down hesitantly. Sweat ran down your back, and you could feel your chest getting tight. Not now, dammit!

"Hey," Jake avoided your eyes, instead looking down at his hands, fingers fiddling with his rings.

"Jake I-"

"Y/N-"

Finally you look each other in the eye again. The two of you can't help but break into giggles, tension releasing just the slightest.

"I need to say this first before anything else," Jake says more seriously, a turn from the brief laughter. "I don't expect you to like me back like that. Hell, I don't know why I even said that to you!" He groans and uses one hand to cover his face, the other still playing with a ring. "Ugh, I'm such an idiot. Can we pretend it just never happened?"

For a moment you consider it. You could move on, ignoring his declaration of feelings, or you could put him out of his misery. The choices were both unappealing.

"No, actually." It was your turn to look at your hands. "I'm sorry Jake. I don't like you like that, you're right. I love you, as a friend, but-"

The tightness in your chest was back, overwhelming you. You felt guilty, even though you knew you shouldn't. No one can help who they fall for or don't. The stress was becoming too much.

"I-I have a boyfriend!" You blurt, hand immediately slapping your mouth.

Jake's face pales, mouth hanging open.

"What?" He looks almost hurt.

"I-" Think if something, Y/N! "-we haven't been dating long, but I really like him. He wanted to wait to tell people since it's still fresh."

Internally you cringe at yourself and curse your brain for the panic response. A boyfriend? Really? What if he asks who?

"Oh," Jake nods, leaning back. "Look, I'm really sorry, I had no idea. I definitely never would have said anything if I knew. I kind of wish you told me though," He laughs lightly. "What's he like?"

You look at him confused.

"Hey, I'm still one of your best friends!" He puts his hands up. "I need to know if I need to start visiting the gym again. You know, in case he breaks your heart."

Now you laugh, "Don't worry about that, I think Chaeryeong and Ryujin would get to him first. Um, actually I said I'd hang out with them today, so I should probably head out..."

"Oh, okay." Jake stands. "I'm glad we could talk this out."

"Me too."

After leaving, you allow yourself to let out all the anxious energy, furiously whispering to yourself and pulling out your phone.

notes ☆ Y/NNNNNNNN 😀😀😀😀 WHY WOULD U SAY THAT OUT OF ALL THINGS !!! (for the plot of course) also someone teach me self control !!!! everytime i finish a chapter i'm like i COULD wait to post this..... or i could just post it now, which always seems more appealing ☝ anyway, back to the fic- count this week of fake dating possibly... lead to something more? stay tuuuuuuuneeeeeddd

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @cherryuqii @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @nobuttpics @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur @channiesstars @daydreamer5006 @luvvvash @amesification @skzswife @blamemef0rit @soulphoenix1618 @lovingmny @stvrfir3 @boo-ven9eance @adestayskz @rag-iii @enchantedgrunge @mytherapisttoldmenotto @strawberry-dreamland @oh-my-fancan @lucktales @cookielino @fantasyaddict123 @sleeplessmin

pink means it won't let me tag u

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz #stray kids #skz smau #lee felix x reader #social media au #stray kids smau #lee felix #lee felix x fem reader #lee felix x yn #lee yongbok #non idol felix #non idol au #stray kids streamer au #felix streamer au #streamer au

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lilacsareinbloomagain · 9 months

Text

Hello. Can I request scenario of yan Leon getting arrested for kidnapped his "love" for at least a year and Reader visiting him in jail for the first time in months? Be it headcanons or fic is your choice.

Also please don't use daddy kink. I'm sorry but I'm just... not into it.

I hope you had a nice day 💚

I hope you have an awesome day as well, thank you! Also, I hope this will be to your liking, thank you for the request!

Notes: I may have written too much more than requested, sorry I really don't know what came over me (I wish I knew because dang)

This is most likely an older Leon, since cellphones and all, but you can imagine him up to Leon from RE4!

You didn't specify if you wanted NSFW or not, so I didn't put it, just to be sure, however if you did want it, do request! Be as specific as you want, I'll try to meet your expectations.

Realistically, Leon could have stuff like PTSD and/or panic attacks, but a yandere version of him would totally use it to guilt trip the reader.

I did my research on prison visitation, keyword, my, it may be wrong, I've never visited anyone in prison, or in the US, for that matter.

TWs: Yanderism, Probably unrealistic lock picking, Kidnapping, Financial dependence, Implied NSFW, Guilt tripping, Implied stalking, Off Screen panic attacks, Stockholm syndrome.

Yandere!Leon S Kennedy x Reader

I may be late for Christmas

Yours and Leon's relationship was troubled, to say the least. Of course, you weren't surprised when it came tumbling down.

From the start, Leon had problems, however you had rose colored glasses on. From the start, you should have expected an end to the relationship, one that probably wouldn't be calm and pacific like anyone would hope for.

Leon was full of secrets, Leon was clingy, Leon was a manipulator, Leon was possessive, Leon was controlling and on top of all, he was obsessed with you. Only, you took too long to notice it.

Leon let you know from the start that he hardly had any free time, his job was time-consuming as it had him go away on long work trips, and that was okay, it was his job and the way he went about his life was none of your business. You didn't mind, in the very start, that is.

The fact he never disclosed anything about his job to you, besides that he worked for the government, was only a small part of the process that was you wanting to give up your relationship.

Because of his lack of time, whenever he did have free time, it was spent smothering you, and it's not that you minded the attention, but it got suffocating when you could barely do your own stuff, like go to your job, visit your parents, spend time with your friends and things like that. There was a wide list of things that Leon would complain about and try to coax you out of doing just to spend more time with him. At the start, you did push aside your basic responsibilities out of guilt for not spending enough time with him, letting him be your priority, like he always said you were his.

When you were away doing said responsibilities, however, Leon found other ways to make himself present, even if not physically.

That is, if you ignore the fact he was present, just not somewhere you could notice him.

Your phone was constantly blowing up, forcing you to make use of the silent option in your phone much more than you used to, having to deal with his grumpy mood when you got home, your phone full of missed phone calls and another fifty messages of "I love you", "miss you", "let me know when I can go get you" and "pick up the phone".

From time to time you checked your phone to see if there were no emergencies, sometimes having to excuse yourself to the bathroom to go and comfort him, soothe him out of his panic attacks. When those happened, his messages sounded more distressed through small changes one could easily pick up on, like "please pick up the phone" or "I need to hear your voice". Those times, when you did pick up the phone, he sounded like he was breathing too much, but at the same time out of breath, you could barely understand his words over the phone, something about him thinking you were dead just because he couldn't feel you in his hold.

As a result of those times, when he was finally calm enough to let you go back to what you were doing before, you were left pondering. You even considered the possibility that he could have been in a war. After all, what could possibly have caused him to have these types of attacks? You may not know much about panic attacks, but something told you that whatever he didn't tell you was just the missing piece of the puzzle, the one you desperately needed to be able to truly understand him, to be able to love him completely, the way that he so desperately needed, and the way you so desperately wished you could.

Besides arriving late at your appointments since Leon insisted on keeping you with him longer, distracting you with one thing or another until you were almost an hour late to stuff, most of the times you also had to drive to his apartment sooner than it was expected of you, even having to leave your job earlier just because Leon insisted there was an "emergency".

There were also those days when he basically made you skip what you had to do, calling your boss, friends or even parents to give some kind of excuse for why you wouldn't be able to be where you were supposed to while pressing your face deeper into the mattress to muffle your sounds underneath him.

Honestly, at the start, those were your favorite days. But you can only skip so many days in your job to get fired, and do so many things before your friends get sick of it and your parents grow concerned and distant.

You decided to talk with your trusted friends and see what they thought about it, and it wasn't very hard to understand that you had to reinforce your boundaries if you wanted to get your life back on track.

And you thought Leon would understand, you thought he'd be okay with it, that the conversation would flow smoothly and in the end, you'd both get what you wanted in a healthy way.

Sadly, you weren't exactly a lucky person, and neither was Leon understanding like you hoped he'd be.

The conversation was fruitless, in the end, Leon managed to make you feel guilty. Like you were in the wrong. You didn't press on, noticing that what was supposed to be just a peaceful conversation was now bordering on a discussion, one you didn't want to have, afraid you'd lose, even if you were so sure you had a fair point just hours ago.

However, Leon pressed on. He grew suspicious you didn't think about confronting him all by yourself, and he wanted to know who exactly convinced you to try and get your point across to him. He began listing your acquaintances, friends and family members until he mentioned one of your closest friend's name and your expression shifted for a moment, he scoffed.

"So that's who, huh? You really talked shit about me to them?" He shook his head and walked away with heavy footsteps while your guilt ate away at you, you betrayed his trust, even if you didn't really talk shit about him, only saying the truth while having a necessary talk with a friend who was beginning to grow more and more concerned about your well-being and safety.

But he managed to get you to feel like you needed to apologize and make it up to him. For that, he couldn't help but smirk in amusement once you weren't looking.

By making it up to him, one of the things he hinted on, was the fact you needed to put more distance between you and this friend that clearly didn't like him. Soon, more friends met that same fate.

Because of your lack of a job and inability to look for another one since Leon gobbled up all the time with you he could get, you were growing short on funds. Rent, food and other basic necessities starting to seem like they required a lot more money than they used to, when you were actually employed.

Even if you didn't express your needs to him, he started to notice how you seemed constantly anxious, and of course, even an idiot would catch on the fact that, if you didn't have a job, you didn't have money.

So he convinced you to live with him, which meant being a homemaker, basically.

Leon didn't ask you to do anything, but it felt fair, since he was taking care of all your needs you could at least do what you could to pay him back. He furrowed his eyebrows, tenderness shining in his gaze when you told him that, he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before muttering important words against your lips. Ones you should have found alarming and not sweet.

"Love, I'm your boyfriend, not your boss. All I need from you is to stay with me and to love me."

He needed you to stay with him. Love was a second thought, a bonus. Not as important as just staying with him, he needed you, more than anything else.

His love was more than enough for the both of you, anyways.

You started to feel better, even better than how you were before, your's and other's concerns about Leon being swept under the rug. As a product of that, you felt like you should use the rest of the money you had from your job that you didn't need anymore to buy a Christmas gift to your parents, since the end of the year was approaching and you wanted to make up for the lack of visits and phone calls over the course of the last few months. That included spending Christmas at their house.

When Leon got home from another of his long work trips and initiated a long cuddling moment with you, asking you to rant about whatever you were up to during the time he was gone, as he always did, you thought that was the best time to mention to him about your little planned visit to your parents for the holiday.

You seemed so excited, wanting to bring him over as well, if only to enlighten the view your parents had of him, to show them he wasn't as bad as they made him out to be, and of course to make sure he wouldn't be left alone, since he hated being away from you so much.

He wasn't happy, of course not. Even if he was there with you, being in a completely different setting and place he wasn't used to and didn't assure was safe for you meant he had less possibilities of keeping you safe. And there was also the fact your parents didn't like him, even if you didn't tell him directly, knowing it could upset him, he heard your conversations with them and saw their texts on your phone. If even your friends were able to make you doubt him, your parents could easily put the wrong ideas in your mind about him, convincing you to leave him, the mere thought of it made his blood boil.

But as much as he wanted to express that to you, try to coax you into giving up about going, he knew better, he knew that could bring at least a sliver of suspicion into your mind, and given the previous circumstances, he couldn't risk it. He had already made it so far into the relationship, you were basically already in his grasp, only one step was left to ensure you'd stay with him till the end.

Taking away your chance of getting away from him.

Disguising that as moving you from his apartment to a whole new house at the outskirts of the city.

You didn't really question his sudden urge to move, or the location, but you should have, since one day, you just woke up with your keys and phone completely vanished.

Leon made a half assed excuse when you finally decided to confront him, but this time you didn't buy it, of course. Not even his pouty expression that normally made you cave in worked to make you change your mind about going against his wishes this time.

For the next few months, you both seemed to be in your personal hells. You made his life harder as much as you could, while he took away the last bit of freedom you had, finally and accidentally making you see how that freedom was merely an illusion, since he had been controlling your life from the start of your relationship. This made you angry, angry at him since he had no right to do this to you, and angry at yourself for putting up with this for so long and not standing up for yourself, for not listening to your friends or even your own family when they tried to warn you.

Screaming didn't work, apparently, not only his house had thick walls but he didn't have many neighbors to hear you scream, either.

Breaking windows wasn't a possibility, one strong shove of a chair was enough for you to find out about the armored glass Leon made sure to add in case you even thought about the idea of breaking through them. Of course, that didn't keep you completely from breaking the windows, the glass could be bulletproof, but at some point it had to shatter, right? But there was the fact that Leon would undoubtedly restrain you in some way from doing so before you could even get close to achieving it, so that alternative would have to stay as a last resort.

Then again, you could always pick the lock.

Common sense told you picking a lock wouldn't be as easy as it seemed in movies, but since Leon was away in another of his long ass work trips you had a lot of time to figure it out. More than enough, actually, since after using the bobby pins in many different ways you were finally able to get the door unlocked.

You didn't know if you wanted more to celebrate or cry out of happiness, so your body made the decision for you, running as quickly as your legs could take you to the nearest person, house, anything. You could even scream until someone heard and came to help you, any previous embarrassment that would have been taken in this situation was forgotten.

Safety was at fingers grasp, but to really be safe, you needed to file a police report.

At first, you hesitated to do so. Even after finally being in a safe space, at your parents house and away from the captivity Leon called a house, a home for the two of you, the one you spent a year in, maybe a few months more, since you were celebrating Christmas with your parents, as you wanted to do one year ago.

You were kind of one year late for the holiday, still, both you and your parents were happy you were alive and safe.

The whole police report filing was a hard process. You were reporting a government worker, one trusted and of importance apparently, their negative reactions made that really clear.

At the end everything went well, the reality surprising you by going against your nightmares and constant worries. The fact your parents had filed a report because of your disappearance last year having played a big part in it.

Leon was brought into prison. Finally letting you and everyone that cared about you rest.

For months, you didn't hear from him, nor did he hear from you. It was maddening for the man to stay in his cell, unaware of how you were and if he'd ever be able to hold you again.

He would, he told himself he would, everyday, that was the only thing keeping him sane. If he could even still consider himself sane.

He barely slept without you, spending his nights only being able to think, think and think some more about how and when he'd get out of that confinement to see and feel you close to him. He missed you too much, he basically only did stuff during the days because he had to, if he didn't, he wouldn't get to see you again, and he'd be damned if he didn't get to see you again.

What mostly kept you both apart were the joint efforts of both your friends and family along with the ones in the police department that knew about your story with Leon. After all, as much as you tried to rid yourself of your love for him, the one you knew wasn't natural but Stockholm syndrome, Leon wasn't, he wasn't trying at all to rid himself of the absolute love and obsession devotion he had for you. No, he was actually actively seeking you out, putting a whole lot of effort of his own into getting people to keep him updated on you, getting help from the ones that weren't trying to keep you away from him.

If he wasn't insane before, he was certainly growing closer to it now, being kept physically away from you for so long like that.

After months of Leon being kept in prison, you finally decided to visit him. Your friends and parents being firmly against it, but you were stubborn and they couldn't really deny you from doing anything, you were a free adult, you could do whatever you wanted, even if what you wanted was to go and visit your captor in prison, under the possibility that he could have changed, somehow.

They all knew you were lying to yourself. You knew you were lying to yourself.

There was a bit of hesitation in your step as you walked into the building.

Eventually, after you stated simple things as the likes of who you were visiting and who you were, along with proving what relationship you had with the inmate, receiving a quite weirded out look from the receptionist when you mentioned you were the one kidnapped by him, you finally got in, following after the guard guiding you into the visitation room.

You settled on one of the chairs inside the room, in front of a small table, another chair positioned across from you. Your eyes nervously wandered across the room, focusing more on the door you supposed Leon would soon come out of, your foot tapping against the floor rhythmically.

After what felt like a long time, but at the same time, not long enough, Leon walked inside the room, eyes finding your own quickly, his footsteps almost faltered, expression staying strong, firm, despite his glassy eyes and the slight quivering of his lip, small tells of his real reaction upon seeing again in so long. You were only able to catch onto those because of the amount of time you spent with him, he let his walls down for you, and only you.

You stood up on shaky legs, seeing him approach you with almost slowed down steps. Your worries about him being mad or having an explosive reaction upon seeing you again were discarded when he pulled you into a hug, not saying a word as his arms gently enveloped your form, his head buried against your neck, just feeling you. Your skin, your scent, your warmth, your existence.

The embrace lasted little, way less than what he really wanted. He held your hands firmly as you two stood in front of each other. You were still at a loss for words, should you apologize? Say you missed him? You were feeling a lot of emotions, most of them you were unable to even explain.

"I missed you."

You were almost scared when he opened his mouth, taking a short breath before speaking, his words sounding soft, almost like a whisper, his eyes still twinkling with unshed tears he was trying desperately to keep in.

He didn't say anything else. He knew what he did, and he knew why you reacted the way you did as well, he couldn't blame you for having done what you did, but he wasn't regretful for what he did, either.

The words stuck in your throat, you wanted to say the same thing back to him, but after opening and closing your mouth a few times he got the hint, moving on with the conversation, you had a time limit, and he wanted to make the most out of it.

"Are you okay? How are things going?" Leon gently pushed you to sit down on your chair, going and taking his as well, his hand not letting go from yours, positioning positioning your linked hands on top of the table.

He didn't want to ask if you had moved on, he didn't want to know, he wanted to entertain the thought you still loved him as much as he loved you.

"Things are okay, I have a better job now, better apartment…" Better life... The words went by unsaid, but he caught onto the hint. Your voice almost didn't register to you as you spoke, your attention being kept on your joined hands on top of the table, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. "My friends contacted me again. At least, most of them did."

You wondered if you should also ask him how things are for him in prison, but you didn't know if you wanted to know, you didn't want to feel guilty again, you already felt it enough just by thinking of him, confined in this place.

You couldn't help but feel like you had done something bad. Leon wasn't a bad man, he just… Loved you too much.

Sometimes, it was hard for you to remember that said thought wasn't one of your own, but rather one that came as a result from the time you spent in the toxic relationship you had with Leon.

"I'm happy you're okay." He didn't, but there were guards watching the two of you. He doubted he would get out of prison early if he said everything he was thinking at the moment, everything he wanted to do, everything he needed to do. If he did, his hard efforts to behave over the course of the months there would go to waste, your trust in him would be beyond salvageable, probably.

The rest of the hour went just like that, with Leon letting you talk about anything and everything going on with your life, like he did when you two cuddled once he came back from one of his long work trios. He noticed as the tension seemed to leave your body, the familiarity in the action bringing you the comfort you had missed for quite some time. It seemed your trust in him would take a while to rebuild, but not as long as he expected, or you, in fact.

When your visitation hour ended and the guard called out to you both to go back to your respective paths, Leon hugged you again, not resisting to pull you into a kiss, one he missed way too much. You didn't resist against him either, thankfully, making him smile in the brief kiss.

"I love you." He said as you pulled back, him letting you do so, unwillingly. "So much, too much."

"I love you too." The words came out smoothly, naturally. It had been so long since you last said those words to him, it felt weird, like you weren't even supposed to say that.

He smiled in response, walking away from you slowly, glancing back every now and then as you also parted.

His plan was in action, you still loved him, that would make everything so much easier, you'd be back in his arms soon enough, then he'd be able to indulge in you and give you everything he hadn't been able to in so long.

He'd make sure there were no loopholes this time, this time, you wouldn't even want to leave.

Just you wait.

#yandere x reader #tw: yandere #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere #yandere leon kennedy

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viburnt · 4 months

Note

At that point, I feel the only option is to just leave without notice after several attempts to talk to him. send the divorce papers through his secretary, bet that’s only way to get him to pay attention. IT would be DISAPPOINTING HE doesn’t noticed until like a day after or more 💀😭

Rina, RINA, YOU'RE SO RIGHT ABOUT THIS! I'm already working on the divorce headcanons but I like this so much I'll throw in a couple about that brief time before you actually serve him papers.

The time before you resolve a divorce is the best course of action is short; it almost feels right to say it, even if your heart aches. You look back at all those empty years being by Izuku's side, but you can't find a memory of him standing with you. It felt like a silent movie where you'd been acting the role of the ideal wife, pretending to be happy for the cameras, not allowed to say a thing.

Sadly, being married to Izuku isolated you a lot. Your friends and family had distanced themselves from you because you never had time to visit or hang out, not to mention they'd found the news reporters and the cameras too bothersome to even dare to approach you. So with the little strength you had left, you had to sort out this whole situation by yourself. One benefit of being alone most of the time was that your soon-to-be ex couldn't quite tell you were scheming to leave him.

You began searching for places to rent, looking for jobs that offered home-office, and even checking the finances. Most of the things around the house were under Izuku's name, and you didn't want anything from him. Specially not when it would entertain more gossips or give people the wrong impression.

Izuku would come home late or not at all, too tired to even notice half of your wardrobe was gone, and that you spent a lot of time outside the house. He'd just kiss you goodnight and sleep, blissfully ignorant of the reality. You'd slip away from him and crash on the couch, trying to detach your heart from the feelings you still sheltered for him.

Part of you wished he would notice the way you were drifting apart, the way you crumbled in a marriage built of empty expectations and false promises. It was wishful thinking, a pipe dream that could never become true. Izuku had caught you between a rock and a hard place, and he'd only learn that after the damage was visible.

When you are finally ready for the legal battle, you send the papers to Izuku's office. His secretary passes them to him, probably thinking it's just more paperwork, and in the same way his secretary did, Izuku simply assumed it was more work to do. Midoriya placed the yellow envelope on top of a stack of pending documents, deciding to check them later.

The face of realization he has once he finally reads the contents of said envelope is almost priceless. 2 days had those documents waited for his eyes to read, 2 full fucking days to notice you were asking for a divorce. He was hysterical, making phone calls and sending texts to no avail; you weren't answering, and you weren't even living in that house at that point. He felt like an idiot, and that was only the beginning of the end.

'The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable, please try later to-'

"Ugh, just answer dammit!" Izuku yelled, throwing his phone to the wall in desperation. He had rushed out of his office to try and find you, just then noticing the emptiness of the things you'd taken with you. The only thing you left behind was your wedding ring, standing cynically on the bedside table along with the framed photo of your wedding day. Tears rolled down his freckled cheeks, not being able to grasp reality. You were really leaving him, and his stupid ass was so busy to even notice it.

"I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry..." He sobbed in the silence of his bedroom, your perfume haunting him as he held your pillow.

Izuku had fucked up bad.

#my hero academia #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha ask #we are getting that divorce ladies

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transmascaraa · 4 months

Text

!christmas special!

"Just for you"

gf!furina x gn!reader

author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THE ONES THAT CELEBRATE IT!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR LIKING MY POSTS! all of that encouraged me to to try and write a fanfic instead of hcs this time, as a special! i wish you all a very happy christmas and hope that all of you are doing well! i hope you like this!

"i was blessed to have met you at all..."

You and Furina have been dating for about a year now, and it's finally Christmas time... The time that people celebrate and get gifts under a tree... The time that everybody has fun at.

You weren't really as hyped up for it as everyone else was, but you still wanted to keep the tradition going. And what made it easier, was that you were getting a gift for you dear girlfriend, Furina.

She, on the other hand, was very excited for this time of the year. The beautiful lights, the city at night, and just the whole atmosphere of Fontaine. It made her smile. It made her happy.

So you had to do it.

You decided to go to the store early in the morning, before Furina woke up. Just so she wouldn't panic, you left a little note on her nightstand.

"i'm at the store, don't worry<3"

And just like that, she was left alone in the bed, sleeping peacefully as you went out.

When you got there, you could just see how decorated it was, even inside the stores. So, with that, you rushed to the plushies section.

Furina loved plushies, and had a bit too many of them. But there's never enough plushies for the love of your life!

You put a little blue jellyfish in the cart, and a fluffy white cat, and a dragon... You didn't even look at the price. No money was worth more than that sweet and grateful smile she will have on her face once she sees her gifts.

Finally, after paying for all of that, which wasn't so cheap, you started to head home.

On the way back, you saw a small jewelry shop.

"joyaux d'amour" (i used google translate "gems of love" idk if it's the real translation)

It wasn't popular, and when you entered, you didn't understand why. Beautiful necklaces, rings and earrings were on display. Diamonds, amethysts, sapphires,... you name it.

"Uhm, hello. I'm here to get a Christmas gift for my girlfriend... any recommendations?" you asked the lady who was in charge of the store.

"Of course! This beautiful sapphire necklace, this diamond ring here if you're planning to propose, these ruby earrings..." the lady quickly recommended you a lot of options, but you couldn't take your eyes off of the sapphire necklace.

"I'll have the necklace." you pointed at it.

"Okay, let me just put it in a box for you..." she took it in and put it in a little light blue box for you.

"Here you go. Happy holidays, and Merry Christmas!" she exclaimed as she waved at you.

"Thank you ma'am, Merry Christmas to you too." you waved back to her, and finally left the shop.

After you finally got home, you realized that Furina was still sound asleep in the bed, she hasn't even moved a single bit. She must've been really tired last night... Still, that gave you enough time to wrap up the presents that you got her!

You quickly went to the living room and started packing the gifts.

The plushies in shiny red wrap, and the necklace still in the box, and in yellow wrap.

When you finished, you left them under the Christmas tree and went back to the bedroom, only to find your sweet girlfriend waking up from her deep slumber.

"G'morning, my love!..." Furina smiled at you as she stretched out her arms.

"Good morning, my dear! Merry Christmas!" you smiled back at her in a happy tone.

"Oh yeah, Merry Christmas to you too!" she giggled and slowly got out of bed to hug you.

"I got you some gifts, they're under the Christmas tree."

"Gifts? Under the Christmas tree? Aww... you shouldn't have... But i didn't get you anything in return... i'm sorry..." she apologized as she looked up at you.

"No, it's okay, i was blessed to have met you at all, so it's enough." you softly kissed her forehead.

"You're so sweet... C'mon, let's go open my presents!" suddenly, she grabbed you by the hand and lead you to the living room.

"I hope you like them..." you said to her as she already sat on the floor next to the Christmas tree, in her pajamas.

Then, she started opening the gifts. First, the plushies. The smile she had on her was undescribable.

"Oh my, they're so cute!" she hugged each one of them.

When she got to the necklace, she smiled widely, put it on, and got up to hold you tight.

"Thank you so so so much, my love! This is the best Christmas i've ever had!" she kissed your cheek as another "thank you".

"Just for you, my dear."

~~~~~

first time posting a fanfic and i'm so insecure bro😭

is it even good???

pls tell me but anyways i hope you guys have a merry christmas and happy holidays! i love you all!

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin furina #genshin impact furina #furina #furina x reader #furina x you #furina x y/n #furina de fontaine #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #christmas special #have happy holidays and remember to live laugh love furina!💙🩵#⑅⁠čikonyxo's post🎭

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lilacmingi · 5 months

Text

A CHRISTMAS WISH

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Cheer elf!Yeosang x fem reader

Word count: 4,360

Note: This one is another favorite of mine from Christmas 2021 on Wattpad. I loveeeed the plot for this one! I love the concept of elf Yeosang 😭 Reminder: This imagine is from Wattpad so there will be no continuations or extra parts

You sighed as you stared at the steaming cup of hot cocoa sitting in front of you. Even a festive drink like that couldn't seem to cheer you up.

"So, what's the deal?" Your friend, Jisung, asked.

"I don't know." You sighed. "I'm just not feeling very festive this year. Things haven't exactly been going well and I can't seem to find it in me to celebrate the holidays."

"Maybe it's seasonal depression."

"I don't know, maybe. I guess I feel like I've lost my Christmas spirit, that spark, you know? Things aren't as wonderful as they used to be and life has really kicked me in the butt."

"Maybe it's just that you're getting older. Things are different when you grow up. Christmas doesn't feel much like Christmas."

"It sucks." You sighed. "I'm usually so into the holidays, but not this year."

"You should write a letter to Santa." He suggested.

You let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious."

"Thanks, Hannie, but I'm good. I'm not gonna write a letter to a fictional being."

"Well, it was worth a shot." He shrugged.

Later that night, you were sitting in your living room, a Christmas special on TV. A sigh left you as you stared blankly at the screen, your chest feeling hollow and empty.

"It's just not the same." You muttered, clicking off the television and shuffling out of the room, your feet dragging along the floor.

You stepped into your room, your gaze landing on your table that sat in front of the bedroom window.

Next thing you know, you found yourself sitting at the desk in your room, a pen and a piece of paper sitting in front of you. You weren't sure why you were about to do what you were about to do. Perhaps it was a last-ditch effort. Maybe you had hit rock bottom with no more options.

You picked up the pen and began to write.

Dear Santa,

I haven't been feeling too festive this year. I'm not really sure why. So many things have been happening lately and I just feel like the holidays aren't even worth celebrating. I've always loved Christmas, but this year has been so... bland. I don't know what to do about it. My friend suggested I write a letter to you, which I think is absurd, but here I am.

You let out a dry chuckle, feeling sorry for yourself.

This is so stupid. I don't even know why I'm doing this. I guess I'm out of options. The only thing I want for Christmas is to get my Christmas spirit back.

You folded the letter and placed it into an envelope, momentarily considering throwing it in the trash, but you didn't. For whatever reason, something in you wanted to get that letter sent out—so you did.

The next day, you set out on your brief journey to the mall. You didn't need or want anything, you only went there to get your letter sent.

You clutched the envelope in your hand as you neared the middle of the mall where the Santa meet and greet was set up. Just outside the area was a red mailbox with huge, cursive letters printed on it that read: North Pole. You didn't put an address on the envelope, you just wrote North Pole, not that it mattered, Santa wouldn't be receiving the letter anyway. Actually, you didn't know who would get it. Part of you didn't care.

You pulled open the flap glancing at the envelope in your hand. You shook your head, letting out a mocking laugh as you dropped the letter into the box.

A large pile of letters was spread across Mr. Claus' desk. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time to go through the letters that made their way to the North Pole. He grabbed the next envelope, ripping it open and pulling the letter out to look at it. Upon reading the written message, he felt a somberness in his heart, placing his hand over his chest.

"Oh no." He frowned.

He placed the letter on his desk, grabbing the intercom mic that sat nearby.

"Attention everyone. We have a code Blue Christmas, level 7. I repeat, code Blue Christmas, level 7. Kang Yeosang, please report to my office immediately."

Said elf popped his head up upon hearing his name over the intercom. He jumped from his seat in the cafeteria and hurried as quickly as he could across the snowy village, kicking up the icy substance as he did so.

He pushed open the doors of the workshop, scurrying up the stairs that led to the big man's office. The doors swung open and Yeosang stumbled in, panting breathlessly.

"You called?" He huffed out, his hands resting on his knees.

"Yes. I've just received a letter from a girl who's lost her Christmas spirit. I need you to go to her immediately."

"Yes, sir." Yeosang stood upright, saluting. "I'll start getting ready."

Yeosang is the North Pole's number one cheer elf. It's easy for people to lose their Christmas spirit around the holidays and Yeosang is around to help bring it back. He's gone all around the world on many different missions, helping people remember how magical and merry Christmas can be.

Santa met with Yeosang to see him off and wish him luck on his journey.

"Before you go, I want to give you some of my magic to use... just in case." He told the elf.

"Thank you." He took the small, maroon velvet bag, slipping it into his jacket pocket.

Santa reached over, straightening the beanie on Yeosang's head.

"Make sure you stay covered." He told the elf.

"Of course." Yeosang nodded. "I should be off now."

"Right. Good luck.”

Equipped with some of Santa's magic and a special pocket watch to contact the big man, Yeosang set off to your town.

It had been a few days since you sent your letter to the "North Pole." You weren't sure why you even sent the stupid thing in the first place. The immense regret you were feeling was palpable and almost overwhelming.

"It's already sent. You can't do anything about it." You told yourself.

Why were you worried about the letter being sent? It would probably get tossed anyway.

You needed something to distract yourself and take your mind off things. Maybe a walk would help you clear your head.

You slipped on some warm clothes along with a thick coat and headed outside. As soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the frigid air hit you, causing your face to twist in discomfort. Giving the collar of your jacket a quick tug, you began to walk down the sidewalk.

You walked and walked, not paying much attention to where you were going. Getting out of the house didn't help much at all, considering all you could think about was how much you wish you hadn't sent that letter. There was no point in it. It was stupid. You were just feeling desperate and needed a way to vent and let your feeli—

You let out a grunt as you bumped into someone.

"Sorry." You apologized, glancing over to see who you'd clumsily walked into.

You were immediately taken aback by the man's insanely good looks. You'd never seen anyone like him in your life. He looked like he was sculpted by gods. His eyes were large and seemed to have a sparkle to them, his nose was dainty and perfect, as were his lips, and he had a natural glow to his face. His hair, despite being covered by a hat, was beautiful as well. It was a light blonde color and appeared to be long, as the hair peeking from underneath his beanie curled just beneath his ear.

"I'm the one who should apologize." He stated, his voice deep and melodic, with a gentleness to it. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"I wasn't either." You spoke up.

"It seems we're both distracted." He chuckled.

"Maybe we won't bump into anyone else." You told him with a smile before bidding him goodbye.

Yeosang mentally cursed himself for letting you slip away so easily. The short interaction the two of you had didn't exactly give him a good opportunity to try and stick around. He had to think of a way to get back to you, and quick.

He took a step forward, hearing something scuff along the concrete. Glancing at his feet, he spotted a small wallet. His eyes widened as a smile broke out on his features.

An opportunity! He thought excitedly.

You kept your gaze ahead, determined to pay attention where you were going. As you headed down the street, thoughts of that guy lingered in your mind. It's not every day you bump into someone so attractive. He was stunning, and his laugh was the prettiest sound you'd heard.

I won't forget you pretty street guy. You thought to yourself.

You came to a stop, considering going back home. All the walking you had done did you absolutely no good. Remembering that there was a coffee shop just down the street, you decided against going home and had one thing in mind, and that was a warm beverage. With a new destination, you moved forward, headed straight for the shop.

Upon your arrival, you ordered a medium peppermint mocha. (or your favorite drink) Despite your current lack of Christmas spirit, you still wanted to try and indulge in the holiday's delicious treats.

The cashier gave you the total and you began rummaging around in your jacket pocket, your heart dropping when you didn't feel your wallet.

"I'm so sorry. I... I think I dropped my wallet somewhere." You told the cashier, trying not to panic too much and cause a scene.

"I'll take care of it." A familiar voice spoke from behind you.

A hand reached past you, handing a wad of money to the cashier. You turned your head, seeing that your savior was none other than the guy you ran into just a few minutes prior.

"You."

"Hello again." He smiled.

"Thank you for for that."

"Thank yourself. I used your money."

"What?"

"I'm kidding. I came to return this to you." He said, pulling your wallet from his coat pocket.

"You're a lifesaver." You sighed. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. I was just doing what's right."

"Can I get you something? I kinda owe you one."

"Well, there is one thing you can do."

"And what's that?" You inquired.

"Just sit and talk."

"That's all?"

"Mhm." He nodded. "At least until we finish our drinks. I'm not gonna keep you here for hours and hours."

"Okay. I can do that. Are you sure you don't want me to buy you a drink, though?"

"I got it covered." He smiled.

You were handed your beverage and stepped aside to let your new acquaintance order his. Once he had his hot chocolate with extra whipped cream on top, the two of you went to find a place to sit down.

"So, I never got your name." You spoke up.

"Oh, right. I'm Yeosang."

"I'm Y/n."

"It's nice to meet you." He gave you a friendly (and very adorable) closed-mouth smile.

"I know you're the one who suggested we sit and hang out, but I hope I'm not keeping you from anything." You told him.

"Not at all. I was only out for a walk anyway."

"I was too. I needed to distract myself."

"Ah." He nodded. "If you don't mind me asking, what's troubling you?"

"Well, truthfully, I'm just not feeling very Christmassy this year and I don't know why."

"That's understandable." He nodded. "As you get older, sometimes the holidays don't feel like the holidays. It's not uncommon."

"My friend said something similar. You know," You paused, letting out a chuckle. "He actually suggested I write a letter to Santa."

"Did you?" Yeosang asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"Well, yes, but I was desperate and feeling sad. I honestly regret it. It was dumb."

"Why?"

"Because Santa doesn't exist. Who knows where that letter ended up."

Yeosang had to stop himself from gasping in horror at your blatant response. Of course Santa exists. How could you not know that?

"That letter may have ended up exactly where it needed to be." He responded.

"You sound so sure."

"I'm just looking on the positive side." He responded.

Yeosang said you only had to stay and talk with him until your drinks were gone, however the two of you sat and chatted long after your cups had been emptied.

"We've been here for a while, haven't we?" You spoke, looking at your phone.

"We have. I didn't even realize."

Before the two of you parted ways, Yeosang asked for you number, which you more than happily gave him.

When you left the coffee shop, you couldn't help but feel happy that you chose to leave the house. Had you stayed home, you might not have met Yeosang.

A few days after your first meeting with Yeosang, he texted you asking if you wanted to hang out. You said yes and gave him your address so he could meet up.

It wasn't long until you heard a knock at your front door. You got up to answer it, smiling when you saw Yeosang.

"Come on in." You stepped aside, allowing him to enter your home.

He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on your coat hanger. He looked adorable dressed in a large, dark green sweater and a red beanie.

"You look like an elf." You giggled.

Yeosang's eyes widened at your comment, momentarily worried that you were onto him.

"Your outfit is very festive." You continued. "It reminds me of something an elf would wear. It looks good."

"Ah." He laughed nervously, tugging his hat down, reassuring himself that it was positioned correctly. "Thank you."

You then led him further into your apartment.

Yeosang took a quick look at your home, noticing how barren it was.

"You haven't decorated for Christmas?" He asked.

"No. I haven't really felt like it."

"I could help you if you'd like. Christmas decorations are supposed to bring cheer, anyway—and you seem like you need it."

You let out a short chuckle. "Yeah. I do."

"So what do you say? Want me to help you decorate?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "I think I would like that."

You showed him to your storage closet where you kept seasonal holiday decorations. He assisted you in pulling out your artificial Christmas tree and setting it up.

"You don't get a real tree?" He asked.

"No. I've always used an artificial one. Even when I was younger, we always had an artificial one."

"You prefer artificial trees?" He asked, straightening out the branches.

"I do. In my opinion, it's much better than a real one. Yes, you have to straighten the branches out, but it's not nearly as messy as a real tree. It's also not as much of a fire hazard, you don't have to water it, and unlike real trees, you pay for a fake one once and that's that."

"Ah." Nodded Yeosang. "That makes sense."

Once the branches were all straightened out and in place, you hauled a box of decorations into the living room.

"Do you have a certain place where you hang these?" Yeosang asked as you opened up the box.

"Nah. Just grab one and hang it wherever."

You both reached into the box, pulling out a random ornament.

"This one is cute." Yeosang giggled, holding up an ornament depicting a melted snowman.

"Thanks. I think it's unique."

"It is. It makes me laugh too. I like it." He commented, hanging it over a branch. "Hey, do you think we could crank up some Christmas music? It would really help get us in the Christmas spirit."

"Sure."

You grabbed your phone and connected it to your Bluetooth speaker before finding a Christmas playlist to play aloud.

Yeosang immediately began to dance a little when the first song was played. His hips wiggled as he placed ornaments on the tree, seeming to be in his own little world.

Watching Yeosang made you wish you could get more into the holiday spirit. He really looked like he was in his element as he placed more ornaments on the tree, a soft smile on his lips. His face seemed to glow as he continued to work, dancing and humming to the Christmas music being played.

You couldn't help but smile yourself. Just being around him made it feel more like the holidays.

You had just watched the weather forecast and the weatherman had called for snow, which you were looking forward to. You thought of Yeosang since he loved all things Christmas, so you sent him a text.

You

Are you ready to see the snow? The weatherman said it would snow later this evening.

Yeosang

You know I'm ready! Let's meet up and watch it together.

You

Sounds like fun!

Meeting Yeosang was one of the greatest things that's happened to you. After spending so much time with him, you felt that you were slowly starting to get your Christmas spirit back.

You waited for the snow to fall, but nothing happened. You thought maybe it was just slow with its arrival, so you waited... and waited. It wasn't until you heard a knock at your door that you stepped away from the window. Standing outside was Yeosang dressed in his usual beanie (a gray one this time) and large coat. You gave him a frown.

"It didn't snow."

"It's okay. It's probably just a little slow. Go put on a coat and come on out." He beckoned.

You grabbed your jacket and slipped it on along with a head warmer to keep your ears and forehead toasty before joining Yeosang outside in the chilly winter air.

"Come on." He linked his arm with yours, leading you down the street.

A gasp left you as you saw a tiny white snowflake drift down past your line of sight. Moments passed as the flakes began descending faster from above, accumulating on the sidewalk.

"Yeosang, look!" You beamed. "It's snowing."

The elf smiled at your overjoyed reaction, his heart thumping rapidly as a warm feeling spread in his chest.

Thank you, Santa. He thought.

You stared up at the sky, watching the large, fluffy flakes fall from the sky.

"It's so beautiful." You commented.

You were far too busy admiring the snow to even notice that it was only snowing on your street and nowhere else.

It was Christmas Eve and you and Yeosang were spending it at your house. He showed up wearing a Christmas sweater and brought a matching one with him, handing it to you as soon as he stepped inside.

"You got me a Christmas sweater?"

He nodded with a smile. "You should go put it on."

"Okay."

You scurried off to your bedroom to change out of your sweatshirt and into the Christmas sweater. You glanced at your reflection with a bright smile, your fingertips running over the knit pattern. It wasn't an in your face kind of Christmas sweater, but a more toned down one with warm hues and cream-colored reindeer on it. Just the thought of Yeosang getting the two of you matching sweaters made your cheeks warm.

You returned to the living room, showing off the festive sweater. Yeosang's heart skipped a beat when he saw you. The sweater was just a little big on you and partially covered your hands. It was perfect and you looked absolutely adorable in it.

Over the past few weeks, Yeosang found himself falling for you. Never in his life had he fallen for a human, let alone one that he was sent to help out.

"I love it. Thank you." You told him. "You want some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, please. With-"

"Extra whipped cream?" You finished.

Yeosang grinned, nodding his head.

You made your way to the kitchen and started preparing hot cocoa for you and Yeosang. You'd been spending a lot of time with him and because of that, you started feeling like you got your Christmas spirit back. It was a wonderful feeling, one you didn't think you'd ever feel.

Maybe writing that letter wasn't pointless after all.

You returned to the living room with two large mugs of hot chocolate, Yeosang's topped with extra whipped cream per his request. He took a sip, giving you a thumbs up.

"Good?"

He nodded, licking whipped cream from his top lip.

You drank some of yours before placing the mug onto the coffee table. There was something that had been weighing on your mind lately that you wanted to get off your chest.

"Yeosang. There's something I want to tell you."

"Yes?" Yeosang set his mug down, giving you his full attention.

"I just wanted to say thank you. Ever since you came along, you've brightened up the holiday season and helped me get my Christmas spirit back. I know it's cheesy, but if I hadn't met you, I don't think I would be where I am now."

A gleaming and happy smile spread across Yeosang's features.

"I'm so happy to hear that."

"Will you spend Christmas with me?" You asked.

"Of course."

"There's something else I want to tell you." You took in a deep breath, preparing yourself.

"What is it?" Yeosang asked, his heart pounding.

"Along with getting my Christmas spirit back, I've also developed feelings for you. You're not like any guy I've ever met and we've had so much fun together."

"I feel the same way." He responded with a grin.

"You do?"

"Yeah." He smiled, nodding his head.

"That's great." You beamed.

"But, there's something I have to tell you first."

"Okay." You sat up straighter.

You couldn't help but think of the worst.

"I'm not even sure if I'm allowed to say this, but here it goes." He took in a deep breath before continuing. "I'm an elf. A cheer elf to be more specific. I came from the North Pole to help you get your Christmas spirit back."

You blinked a few times before an unamused chuckle escaped your mouth.

"I see what's going on here. You're teasing me, right?"

"No. I'm telling the truth."

You gave him a skeptical look.

"I'll prove it." He grabbed the top of his hat, pulling it off his head and revealing a pair of pointy ears.

"Those are fake." You responded.

"Pull on them." He told you, leaning closer.

"What? No. I'm not gonna do that."

"If they're fake, it won't hurt me, so you shouldn't have a problem with it."

You pressed your lips together, reaching over and grabbing hold, quickly tugging on his ear.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed, bringing his hand up to rub over the spot.

Your eyes widened. If they were truly fake, the pointed ends would have come right off.

"Oh my gosh." You gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

You were too busy being worried about hurting his ear that you didn't even realize they were real. You froze as reality hit you like a truck. He really is an elf.

Oh my gosh. I told him Santa wasn't real... to his face. You thought.

"Believe me now?" He asked, raising a brow.

"Yes."

Your eyes drifted to his (adorable) pointy ears that stuck out from his long, fluffy, blonde locks. It was an unfamiliar sight, and one you'd have to get used to.

"Hopefully this doesn't change the way you feel about me." Yeosang spoke up.

"It doesn't. Actually, it makes me like you even more."

He let out a chuckle, glancing down shyly.

"So, you said you're a cheer elf. What is that?"

"I go around the world every Christmas to brighten up someone's holiday and help them find their Christmas cheer. You were my mission this year."

"Ah." You glanced down at your lap. "You weren't lying when you said my letter ended up right where it needed to be."

"No I wasn't." He chuckled.

"Are there more cheer elves or just you?"

"There's more. Not a lot, but enough to help multiple people out every Christmas. I'm number one, though." He grinned with a wink.

You smiled only for it to falter when a question popped into your head.

"How will we see each other?"

"One thing they don't tell you about cheer elves is that we get vacation days."

Your face brightened up.

"I can come visit pretty often. You might even be able to come to the North Pole sometime."

"Are you serious?" You asked.

"I am."

"You won't tell Santa I said he didn't exist, will you? Because I most certainly don't feel that way anymore."

"Hmm. I don't know. I was pretty offended when you said that."

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth worriedly.

"If you give me a kiss I won't say anything." He smirked.

You had to hold back a smile as you answered him.

"I think I can arrange that."

You scooted closer to him as he did the same, his hand gently holding your cheek. Without wasting another moment, you closed the space between you and Yeosang, placing your lips on his. Your hand moved to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer as your fingers played with the long strands of hair. Yeosang tilted his head, deepening the kiss and sending a wave of heat through your body in the process.

The kiss was sweet, but intense and left you wanting more. You glanced at Yeosang with half-lidded eyes.

"I don't want you to leave." You murmured, still in a daze from the kiss.

"I won't. I promised to spend Christmas with you, remember?"

You smiled. "And after that?"

"I'll see if the boss man will let me stay a few extra days."

"Good."

In the beginning, you just wanted your Christmas spirit back, but in the end, you got so much more than that.

Hongjoong ❄︎ Seonghwa ❄︎ Yunho ❄︎ San ❄︎ Mingi ❄︎ Wooyoung ❄︎ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

Do not steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

#ateez imagines #yeosang #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #seonghwa #park seonghwa #mingi #song mingi #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #choi san #yunho #jeong yunho #jongho #choi jongho #yeosang x you #yeosang x y/n

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kookslastbutton · 11 months

Text

Fine Print ༓ jjk, kth (m) || ch. I

✑ Summary: Your boss needs you to strike a deal with one of South Korea's biggest business tycoon, Kim Taehyung. What he didn't tell you though, was that Jeon Jungkook, his negligent heir, would be accompanying you the whole time. Isn't this just peachy?

Pairing: company heir!jungkook x fem!reader x ceo!taehyung (not poly)

AU/genre: angst, humor, fluff, smut, stuck together, office au, coworkers2lovers, lo-love triangle (do I dare? yes, yes I do), mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4.1k+

Now playing: Softcore, Do I Wanna Know?, Blank Space...

Warnings: Not too many this chapter but main ones are swearing, bickering, jk is kind of a kluts so he ain't exactly prince charming right now, reader is ticked obvs, accidental t*tty flash, oh and reader has a cat!

Taglist:

@coralmusicblaze @seokjins-luigi @oopscoop @chanjwl @taebangtanbabe @j3oooonsnsns

A/N: Here it is! Late again, I know, so thank you to anyone who's been waiting. I'm super excited about this mini-series! FYI I've decided not to make chapters too long so I'm more likely to update faster. Enjoy and lmk what you think. My asks are open 💞

One.

Two.

Three.

It's been three hours on the phone with your sister.

'Have you eaten anything yet? Oh dear, why not? Go eat right now!'

'You better not be pregnant __. I'm not ready to be an aunt yet!'

"There are more important things than work you know. I know it's hard to admit but, distance is good so you don't become dull and boring. Get away for a while. You can come up to my place for a few if you need.'

Although Y/S/N is only four years older, she's always had the compulsion to act like your mother. Constantly checking up on you, giving unsolicited advice, and spewing opinions were her specialty.

It's not that you mind hours of conversations over the phone and it's not entirely dreadful. But your energy is surely spent after. Guess that's family for you.

"Really, I'm fine," you answer back. "Don't worry about me so much. And yes I ate, no I'm not pregnant, and I can't afford a break from work right now but I'll see you as soon as I can."

Once the phone slips from your ear, you release a soft huff. Finally. You allow your mind to go blank before something long and sleek brushes against your calf. You can't help but break into a smile and crouch down on the floor to confront the source.

"Did you miss me baby?"

Meow.

"I missed you too." You pick up Kumo, your 3-year-old Siamese. Kumo lived at a local rescue league for a year before you adopted him. You weren't sure you'd be able to take care of a cat when a friend suggested it. But once you saw Kumo's shimmering blue eyes, you knew you weren't walking out empty-handed.

Meowmeowmeow

Kumo kneads your sleeve, ears relaxing as you stroke his back. Each gentle purr reminds you why you consider him your best form of therapy. "Good boy Kumo. I wish I could take you to work with me...silly company policy."

A few strokes later and Kumo starts wiggling in your arms. Claws prick your skin, telling you he's had enough lovey-dovey for now. You suppose it's nearly time for his late night snack.

Meooooow

"Alright I gotcha," you say, setting him near his food dish. Kumo gladly jumps out of your arms to attack the last remaining pebbles in his bowl. "Mom should get something to eat too shouldn't she?"

Truth be told you actually hadn't eaten all day. And though you never meant for it to happen, it's a regular occurrence. Your sister would go absolutely off if she found out which is why you sorta...don't tell her?

Feeling your body aching, you pop a few pieces of fruit in your mouth before deciding to hit the shower. Not the most substantial option but you're ready to crash and crash hard. You'll eat in the morning, for sure. You plug your cell in by the nightstand but before you turn to leave, a notification drops on the screen.

CEO Jeon: __, sorry to be reaching out this late. I need you to come by my office around 2:30 tomorrow if you can. There's something urgent I need to discuss with you. [sent at 9:03pm]

You re-read the message twice before typing out a reply. What could be this urgent? Are you being let go? Dammit, don't think like that. Surely he wouldn't.

__: Of course Saengnim. I'll be there at 2:30pm. Is everything alright? [sent at 9:07pm]

CEO Jeon: Thank you __. Everything's fine, only a slight change of plans. Have a good night. [sent at 9:08pm]

Still unsettled, you're tempted to press further. But being your boss, you let it go. The risk of grilling him for answers wasn't something you were willing to take.

Probably has to do with a new product launch or something, you think. The company's always pumping out new tech. Nothing's been as successful as those smart lights though. They were the true turning point for the company.

With a long exasperated sigh, you grab a towel from the bathroom closet and turn on the shower knob. Whatever it is, you'll find out tomorrow.

"Get your feet off my desk Jungkook."

He looks at you with his notorious bambi eyes, hands laced behind his neck. He's got a stripped dress shirt on, untucked, over a pair of light-washed jeans. Who let the kid in your office?

"I did." He says. "And you're not allowed to call me kid when I'm only three years younger than you."

So you said that kid thing out loud—classic.

"You can't be in here without permission Jungkook." You ignore his comment and hang your jacket on the hook behind the door.

Jungkook eyes you from the other other side of the desk. He takes in your perfectly fitted white blouse, sleek black slacks, and shiny heels. Always so put together, he thinks. A little too posh for his taste personally.

"You know my daddy owns this office." He clicks his tongue. "So technically, I kinda already got permission and all."

You hate when he uses that card. Like being the boss's son suddenly alleviates him from standard office protocol. You promise, the day this irritable little prick takes over the company will be the day you quit. Good thing that won't be for a long time though. Jungkook is far from ready to run a multibillion-dollar company.

You place a hand on your hip. "Is there something I can do for you? Because I have a very generous to-do list and babysitting you isn't on there."

Jungkook sweeps his feet off the mahogany surface. His posture straightens as he strolls his chair, or rather your chair, closer to the desk. "I'm glad you asked." He clutches his hands together, as if serious. "I need a partner."

You hold back a snort. This better not be what it sounds like. "Nice try but I'm not going out with you Jungkook."

"Oh gosh no, that's not what I meant." He shakes his head. "Pretty sure we'd both get in trouble then, given our relationship. Plus…you're not really my type."

"Okay, so there's something we can agree on." Jungkook openly admitting he isn't attracted to you is the least of your concerns. You aren't necessarily fond of him either. "What do you need me to do then? Set you up with someone? Get to the point please."

"I'm not talking about that type of partner __. I mean a work partner."

You feel the hand on your hip slowly glide down your figure. Work partner? Jungkook notices the blood immediately rush from your face. "I'm listening," you mumble.

"Yeah so uh, my dad wants me to get more exposure to the company because I'll be running it one day or whatever. Apparently, there's some business trip coming up that's a really big deal and I'm supposed to go. I was told you have the reigns on it. So I'm gonna need to be like your partner or something. I guess it's already decided actually, sorry.”

The words hardly register in your brain. He couldn't be talking about the business trip. The one that's been rattling in your brain, keeping you up day and night. Your boss assigned it to you months in advance, saying you'd be able to network with the company's potential client best.

You were confident in taking on such a task until you learned it wasn't just any client. It was Kim Taehyung, CEO of the biggest and most luxurious hotel chain in South Korea; White Lotus. Hearing his name alone made your toes curl. Nevertheless, you've been doing all you can to prepare for the official meeting. Having Jungkook there to breathe unnecessary stress down your neck wasn't part of the plan. And oh my god...it's in two days!

"Uh, well um, okay" is all you can reply amongst your jumbled-up thoughts.

Jungkook, completely opposite expression, breaks out into a big wide grin. "Okay, it's settled then! Who we meeting? Kim Taeyang or something?"

"Really Jungkook? Kim Taeyang?" You circle your temple knowing full well what your future was about to behold. This must be what your boss wanted to meet about. The fact that he said this was merely a "slight change of plans" is alarmingly irksome. Oh, you're definitely getting that drink after work. "It's Taehyung," you correct. "Wait...what time is it?"

Jungkook checks his phone. "Uhm..about 2:20."

Dammit. Pressed for time, you stride around your desk and pick up a folder from a stack of documents. "Sorry to cut this short but you're going to have to leave now. I have a meeting in ten minutes and you can't be here."

With furrowed brows, Jungkook lets out a small grunt. It doesn't seem to be from a place of anger but rather, disappointment. "What about the business trip with Taehyang? You still have to get me up to speed and stuff!"

"For the last time, it's Kim Taehyung. Taehyung." You stress every syllable of his name before rubbing your forehead. "You might wanna get his name right before you shake his hand in two days!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do? I'm here all day! I kinda need you."

Anxiously, you flip the folder open and scan through each page. "I don't know, do some research about Kim and his hotel chain. If you're coming on the trip you need to know a thing or two."

"But—"

"Off you go," you say, smacking him with the folder in hand. "Beat it."

"That's no way to treat your work partner or better yet, future ceo __."

"Out Jungkook. I'll talk you to later."

Your boss rounds the corner of his desk, a glass of scotch in hand. He invites you to take a seat before getting down to the heart of it. "Now that Jungkook's 25 he needs to start preparing for his future," he says. "I'm well aware that he's not yet ready to take over as CEO, which is why I've decided that he go with you on this very critical business trip. You've been a loyal part of my team these past five years and I trust you to help guide Jungkook into the next stage of his life."

"Sir, I am pleased that you'd think of me in this way, however, the meeting is in two days. Kim Taehyung is someone who we both know expects perfection. I'm well prepared to have this discussion with him regarding our transaction but I'm concerned that Jungkook won't have enough time to."

"I understand your concern. But not to worry, Ms. __. Jungkook is merely there to observe so you shouldn't need to worry about him saying something he shan't. You'll still be taking the lead on everything."

"Sir I–"

"__. I know its very last minute. And my son has his challenges but I'm afraid this isn't a choice for you. But I tell you what. If you do this for me and you manage to seal the deal with Kim, I guarantee you'll be very well compensated."

The replay of your earlier meeting with your boss brews in the back of your mind. You nearly forget where you are until your friend pipes up from across the table.

“You’re kidding," the younger woman says, nearly spitting out her drink.

“I wish I was.” The dryness in your tone is unmistakable. "My boss said he insists that his son, who by the way has barely stepped foot in the company, be involved in one of the biggest business transactions in years. How am I supposed to sell smart tech to Kim Taehyung with that kid fiddling with god knows what beside me?"

The woman, Eun-ji, flashes you her famous side-eye. “Oh stop complaining __, it'll cause wrinkles. Besides that kid is basically the same age as you. But more importantly, he's hot.” She gives you a light shove. “Don’t pretend you don't know it.”

You shake your head and take a sip of your cocktail. Eun-ji may be one of your closest friends but damn was that girl relentless. Constantly giggling over you and Jungkook going away for a few days is just another one of her matchmaking attempts. Yesterday it was the overly friendly man at the bakery, today it’s your boss’s nuisance of a son.

A blaring light suddenly gets shoved in front of you mid-thought, causing your face to jolt back. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the blinding brightness of the phone screen. “What the hell Eun-ji? Get Jungkook out of my face.”

Eun-ji swipes left, revealing another ridiculous photo of Jungkook posing as the next prodigy of business. “The one to watch” or some shit. “Look at that face __, and those muscles. You can’t hate him forever.”

You scrunch your face. “I never said I hated him Eun-ji. I’m a grown woman for god sak–okay that's enough!” You push the phone abruptly back. “I don’t want to see my boss’s son in Calvin Klien's underwear, please.”

Eun-ji chuckles and sets her phone down. “Sorry, accident.” She casually folds her arms on the wood surface and leans forward. “But seriously, three days alone with Jungkook in the most glamorous hotel in Seoul and you don’t think anything of it?”

“I’m not having sex with Jungkook if that's what you're getting at. And yes, we’ll be in a fancy-ass hotel with joint rooms,” you say emphasizing the joint part. “But it’s not a leisure trip. I’m going there to form some sort of partnership or deal with Kim and Jungkook happens to be carry-on luggage. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” Slowly, Eun-ji falls back in her chair. Her eyes flicker to a far corner of the restaurant before the same sly expression returns. “So how do you feel about meeting Kim Taehyung, the beast of business and hospitality himself?”

“Still a little shaken up but I've had several variations of these meetings before. Kim Taehyung is just a man and I can handle him.”

“Come on __, extend me a branch," Eun-ji say with a slight whine. "Maybe Jungkook gets by but not Kim Taheyung. We both know you've been head over heels for him in Lalaland ever since he made front and center with the press."

Tugging your bottom lip you desperately try suppressing a grin. "That's such an exaggeration. I'm not–"

"I've known you for ten years __. You're always, and I mean always weak for an intelligent, sexy, business-savvy brain. Kim far surpasses the bill."

"Alright fine, fine fine fine," you chant, giving up. "You're right. I'm still nervous as hell about meeting Taehyung and hope to death I don't fumble. Happy?"

Pleased, Eun-ji lets out a wide grin that tells you she's now concocting a soap opera with you and Taehyung as the main leads. "That's all I wanted to hear," she coos.

"Promise me you'll take good care of Komu? We leave Friday morning."

"Of course, I will," she says, leaning forward to gently grip your shoulder. "Kumo and I are going to have three full days of watching reruns of Love Island. Kai Fagan and Sanam Harrinanan are his favorites."

Friday - 8:04 a.m.

"If you don't get here in the next fifteen minutes I'm leaving with or without you Jungkook." You stroll your suitcase into the boarding line outside your gate. You and Jungkook's flight to Seoul was scheduled to take off in twenty minutes but your partner, get this, woke up late and is now running ridiculously behind.

"Yeah, try explaining why you ditched me at the airport to my dad __." Was it just you or was Jungkook's voice even more annoying over the phone than in person? God you could strangle him right now. You suggested carpooling over well ahead of time to make it easy but no, his highness didn't want to.

"Listen __,"Jungkook continues. "I'm at security right now and I'm rushing as fast as I can. The line isn't too bad now so I'll be there in ten. I'm sure."

"Okay, but don't muck around too much. And make sure to take off your belt before you go through security."

"Yes mom."

"Don't ever call me that," you grit.

On the other end, Jungkook chuckles, relishing in your distaste. "What if I put a couple letters on the end though? You seem the type to be into momm—"

"Just get here!" You hang up instantly. What the hell was he on?

Twelve minutes pass and you're again checking your phone feverishly. Jungkook was supposed to be here by now but there hasn't been any sight of him. You're about to ring him up for the third time today when you feel a body brush against your arm.

"Sorry!" Jungkook leans on the handle of his suitcase, taking deep breaths. "There was...someone had a pocket knife in front of me and it held us up."

"Well if you had–" You pause realizing you really are starting to sound like a mom. So much so that you're making your own skin crawl. You recall Eun-ji's wise words a couple days ago. 'Stop complaining __, it'll cause wrinkles.'

'"It's alright," you mutter. "At least you're here."

"Really? That's it? Thought you were gonna scold me again. 'Jungkook you friggin' embarrassment, I told you to leave early so we'd be here on time. You're lucky I don't send you back to your dad and doom your future right now'."

Oh fuck no. He did not just try imitating you and in such a horrid voice too.

"That's not how I sound and you know it."

Jungkook snorts at your sour face. He isn't trying to be a thorn in the side but he's also not about to let you keep your stiff exterior. Being a CEO's son showed him the true price of being an uptight businessman and it isn't in his interest to let another person, especially his age, live life not knowing how to relax and what was that phrase...smell the roses?

"C'mon sunshine, I'm just kidding around," he says. "Also, glass half full, I did make it here before the plane took off. First day on the job and I'm already killing it."

"How about I make you my assistant instead of a partner," you bite. "And you only talk when spoken to?"

"You wouldn't."

Line finally starting to move you tighten the grip on your luggage and move with the crowd. You tilt your head to the side and flash Jungkook a tight lipped smile that said, 'try it bitch'.

"You're cruel you know that?" Jungkook grabs his own luggage and follows your lead.

Stunning. Immaculate. Expensive.

The list goes on as you and Jungkook walk through the golden doors of White Lotus. Everywhere you look, masterpieces from the great masters hang from the walls and cover the ceiling. You notice the same gold on the door is used as trim for the ceiling as decorative accents mount its corners. Dangling above is a giant glass chandelier, while below you are beige marble floors.

Taehyung certainly doesn't skimp, does he...

"Welcome to White Lotus," the receptionist says. "Do you have a reservation?"

Blinking yourself out of your daze, you walk up to the receptionist's desk. "Yes, we're here under the name Jeon." You usher Jungkook over who takes his ID out of his wallet. The receptionist scans both yours and his before sliding them back.

"Saengnim has been expecting you Ms. __," the woman says. "He's absolutely delighted you're here. Your rooms will be on the 29th floor, breakfast is 7am-10am, and wifi is inside." You're handed two key cards with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Hana," you say, reading the woman's name tag. "We're privileged to be in such a beautiful place."

"Isn't it?" Hana sweeps her eyes around the room with wonder. "Saengnim chooses each and every part of this hotel with immense detail. He wants every guest to be met with the best service and completely dazzled."

"It would seem so," you reply, following her trail. "This is by far, the most extravagant hotel I've ever stayed in. It's clear how it has earned an unbelievably positive reputation. Its creator loves it, cherishes it as his own."

Meeting your eyes again, Hana retains her warm smile. "I'm glad you see it too. It's true Saengnim has poured his heart and soul into White Lotus. Guests from all over the world have come just to see what Saengnim designed. And sometimes, they even get to meet him." Hana suddenly pauses, a hint of shyness creeping up on her cheeks. "Forgive me, I don't mean to keep you. I should let you both rest."

"No, please don't apologize," you urge. "It's great to see such admiration." Evidently, Kim Taheyung isn't the only one who has been dedicated to White Lotus. You and Jungkook bid Hana good night for the evening then follow the bellhop to the elevator.

"So tomorrow, remember, let me handle Kim."

"Okay yeah, I gotcha." Jungkook grazes the blackout curtains with the tips of his fingers. He peaks out the window next, taking in the breathtaking view of Seoul at night.

"Are you even listening to me?"

The man turns around, flinging his arms in the air. "Honestly, not really. Look at this room __. It's fucking huge!"

"I know, it's so ethereal. But I need you to concentrate for a second. Our meeting starts tomorrow and I need us to be on the same page. Technically, we'll be touring the hotel with Kim and whatnot so nothing's getting signed, but still. We can't be underprepared."

"I will talk as little as possible. I give you my word."

"Good." You give a slight nod and hoist your suitcase on the bed. "By the way, did you find out anything about Kim's background?"

"Uh shit–knew I forgot something. I'm going to read up about him right now!" In a mad hurry, Jungkook heads for his room.

"Wait, before you go–"

Dammit. You'll just text him.

__: Don't forget we meet Kim at 9 a.m. [sent at 9:56pm]

Jungkook: I'll be up at 6 a.m. Gotta scope out Kim's gym while I'm here. Bet it's loaded with the best equipment. You should join me! [sent at 9:58pm]

__: Mm, thanks but no thanks. [sent at 10:00pm]

Jungkook: Suit yourself. See ya in the morning!! [sent at 10:03pm]

Alright __, you've showered, gone over your notes, hell you even practiced a few lines in front of the bathroom mirror. It's time to sleep. Lazily, you flop yourself on the bed, starfish and all. You feel your eyelids closing, pulling you into dreamland until a cool breeze tickles your bare thighs.

"Ugh", you groan.

You forgot you were still in your robe. Would it be horrible to just sleep naked tonight? Sitting upright you fiddle with the knot of the silk material. Not a bad idea, __. You start loosening the knot before shaking the robe off your shoulders. You let out a–

"__!" Without warning the joint door between you and Jungkook thrusts open. Your partner bursts through your room, eyes shifting into a bugged-out expression when he sees your nearly bare state.

"Oh my god, Jungkook! You can't just come in like that, fuck!" Panicked, you wrap the material back around your chest, clinging it tight against your breasts. "Go back, go back until I say come in!"

Stunned look on his face, Jungkook retreats to his room. He ends up bumping into the doorframe clumsily before slamming the door shut. "I'm so sorry __! Shit, I didn't mean to walk in on you or anything. It's...I came in because something happened. Fuck, I swear I didn't see anything. It was like a blur."

Shutupshutupshutup

You quickly retie the straps of your robe, mentally calming yourself. "Jungkook if you have any respect for me, please forget this. And for the love of might, don't tell anyone!"

"No, of course not! I-I've forgotten already." On the other side of the door, Jungkook curses himself. 'Are you a fucking idiot or something? Just walking into her room like that this late at night.' He paces in a small circle, fists clenched. "Okay, breathe. It's just tits. Tits Jungkook, you've seen–fuck!'

Why? Why did he have to be here?! From Jungkook almost missing this morning's flight to being overwhelmingly underprepared for tomorrow's meeting and now walking in on you, tits out and all, Jungkook is easily the worst partner you've had! No wonder you prefer working alone.

"Uhm, something..." You clear your throat. "Something happened you said?" You brace yourself for whatever chaos Jungkook's brought this time.

Jungkook is slow to form a reply but in a near whisper, he says, "I think I just met Taehyung. Actually, I know I met him. Yeah 'cause, I shook his hand...right before I spilled ice over his perfectly shined loafers. Gucci. Please don't send me back to my dad!"

A/N: Thanks for stopping by! As always, lmk your thoughts. See ya! 💞

Masterlist

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook fluff #taehyung fluff #jungkook angst #taehyung angst #fic:fineprint #kookslastbutton

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