#READ ALL THE AVAILABLE CHAPTERS OR JUST TRY TO GET TO LIKE
Text
After Hours: CH1 — Another Work Day
Pairing - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader, previous! Phillip Graves x F!Reader
Warnings - Office AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Sexting, Praise Kink, Dry Humor, etc.
Summary -
Life has been out to get you ever since you found your ex cheating on you. To add salt to your wounds, your beloved pet dog goes missing while you try to recover from your nasty breakup and your company has been overloading you with piles and piles of paperwork you can never seem to finish; along with a bunch of babbling interns who can never take a hint when it comes to shutting the fuck up, along with a scary, firm-handed supervisor who seems oddly interested in getting to know you better, despite your reluctance.
Chapter Summary -
Just another day at work with your unique team.
Read on AO3? | Masterlist | Navigation
As you put up the final poster of your missing dog near a park, you ruefully recall how this wretched week had begun.
You were two months clean of your no-good, chauvinist manwhore of an ex when you decided to leave your beloved golden retriever behind at your empty one-room apartment as you set off for a long commute to work. Granted, your life has become lonelier than usual with the remnants of your estranged partner scattered around the space - like his red toothbrush in the bathroom stand, the ukulele still hung up on your cream walls, or the crystal ashtray he used whenever he decided to smoke a cigar and set off the smoke alarms in the small (you prefer to call it ‘cozy’, despite his many protests) living room, forcing you to open up the windows and air out your room, hoping that the neighbors don’t lodge a complaint against you in the RWA.
But you have set up a routine, which is not perfect by any means - yet you make do with it. It also helps that your dog Butters is just an absolute ray of sunshine, always up for a walk and playing fetch to cheer you up whenever you get off work. After a long day of work, playing with him was all you had been looking forward to - until you noticed your ajar door and felt your world come to a standstill. Fearing the worst, you burst inside and frantically check around for any stolen valuables you may have to report to the police. So much for a chill night after work.
Luckily, it had seemed no one had broken in and you had just forgotten to lock your doors in your hurry to catch the morning train. But the silence and the lack of your furry friends sets off alarm bells in your head. You quickly call out his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of that golden fur, but to no avail. Frantic, you rush out of your apartment as you yell for your companion. When you fail to locate him anywhere in your block, you resort to asking your neighbors in case any one of them had spotted him throughout the day. Some of them are peeved at you disturbing them, but they’re quick to pity your dejected figure, tears welling up in your eyes as the day catches up to your weary body.
With aching legs, you make your way to the park you often frequented with Butters and in the plethora of crowd of people and pets alike, you attempt to search for your dear doggo and it is all in vain. With defeat weighing you down, you quickly dial for the police and lodge a report for your missing friend. Noting down your case number and the names of the staff in-charge, you sluggishly go back home and prepare a half-hearted dinner of heated frozen pizza, which you eat with virtually no appetite to satiate and go to sleep on the hard couch with swollen eyes and a migraine blooming between your temples as the empty bedroom still haunted you with not-so-fond memories.
A week has passed since then, with no plausible leads to Butter’s whereabouts. The cops have even suggested you give up and get a replacement for him, which just made you all the more angrier at their blatant apathy. With each passing day, you lose your hopes of ever reuniting with your beloved fur baby; but you hope for Butters to be alright, wherever he is.
Whoever has him, please take care of my baby, you silently wish as you stare at the blank screensaver on your desktop, activated due to your prolonged inactivity. Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly press on the spacebar thrice until the Excel spreadsheets are visible again. Sighing at the banal tasks assigned to you, you quickly check your phone for any texts. Family and friends and classmates you occasionally stay in touch with;they all have texted you something or the other - a greeting, a link, a meme. And then there’s your ex, who has left you ‘on seen’ after you texted him to come and grab his box of belongings two weeks after your breakup. Whether it is because he is in denial over you growing a spine and breaking up with him when you caught him cheating, or because he believes that you would come crawling back to him and beg him to grace your life with his presence(which is a tempting thought that you frequently entertain, especially during lonely nights when you crave rough hands to caress you into a lull), you do not know and you don’t have enough fucks in order to find out either.
“How’s my bonnie doin’?” a familiar Scottish voice asks, and you whip up your head to find Mactavish standing in front of your desk, all sunshines and smiles and mohawks as he greets you.
“Hey Johnny, I’ve been better”, you rub the sleep from your eyes as you look at him with a slow smile of yours. John ‘Soap’ Mactavish was the first coworker you had befriended when you decided to join the tech security company One-Four-One. Director Laswell had asked him to give you a tour of the place and help you set up your work devices and he had taken on that responsibility with a toothy grin and a loud pat on your back, promising to show all there is to be seen and help you out whenever you find yourself stuck. With his easy going attitude and helping nature, it didn’t take you long until you found yourself looking forward to attending office, if only to spend some time with your coworker-slash-friend.
“Worried about Butters, huh?” he somberly asks you, gently rubbing your upper arm in sympathy.
“Yeah, I am just worried about him. I hope he’s okay”, your nose prickles with the fresh onset of unshed tears in your eyes and you bury your face in your hands as you try to take deep breaths and calm yourself down. Crying at the workplace never really ends well for you.
“I know, lass. But I also know that Butters is a smart boy, he’d take care of himself just fine till he comes back home, yeah? So don’t you worry”, he consoles you, picking up your empty mug as he leaves you to collect yourself.
“I’ll get you a new brew, and we can talk for a bit, okay? Be right back.”
And then he leaves the common floor, hopefully going to the break room to get some new coffee brewing for the morning.
Seeing your distraught state, Kyle Garrick, the temp hire, gets up from his desk and drops off some raisin cookies at your desk to go along with your cup of oncoming java. When you protest, he winks at you and asks you to save the treat for yourself - all the more exasperated with Johnny and his grubby hands that are always eager to snatch away his snacks. That makes you laugh a little, and he smiles at you as he makes a beeline for the bathroom.
Feeling a little lighter, you decide to work on the neglected spreadsheets just a tad bit longer till Johnny comes back, each hand holding a cup of coffee and a grin on his face that tells you he has some much needed gossip to keep your mind off from your constant worries.
It is an hour before lunch break when Joseph, the new intern, approaches you at your desk.
“Hello-”
“No.”
“I didn’t even say anything!”, he whines out, and you are reminded once again that he’s still a college student, despite his monstrous height and unusually deep voice.
“You don’t have to”, you reply, your eyes barely leaving the screen as you typed away and responded to him, “I can tell you have come here to bribe me into doing your work again, and my answer is no. I am too busy to deal with you.”
“You don’t have to do anything, I swear! I already did the work!” he claims, and you turn to face him with an arched eyebrow and a speculative expression on your face that gives away that you’re having a hard time believing him.
Joseph is a nice enough guy - he always greets you and is kind enough to use his height to pull down things for you that are kept on the too-high cabinets, and he is intelligent enough to keep up with almost all the technical jargon being passed around by some of your haughty teammates during daily meetings and project discussions, as well as suggest some truly out-of-the-box innovative ideas that has transformed how the team worked for the better. But he’s a terrible procrastinator, often finding himself finishing tasks at the eleventh hour; while prolonging tasks until the last minute does lead to him coming up with amusing and original ideas, it leaves room for him to commit quite a few silly mistakes and errors that one might overlook on an initial run, unless a senior staff member is asked to review it.
And ever since Laswell went on leave and appointed Price as the acting Director in her stead, you have been swamped with towers of paperwork and meetings while also managing meetings, work sprints and other team issues - basically acting as Price’s right hand as he tries his best to manage the team without letting it implode on itself. Add in your messy personal life and you are already tired enough to sleep at your desk by the time the day is over and hope to never move. (Price has at times found you slumped up against your keyboard, softly snoring with dark eyebags as he noted how you probably needed a much-needed break from it all, despite knowing very well that your absence in the office for more than a day would probably cause unending chaos he won’t be able to manage on his own.)
“I have finished the report. I just need you to go over it once to make sure I haven’t messed up anywhere, else Simon would tear me a new one!”, he pleads with you, and you recall that his uncle, Simon Riley, is one of the founding members and is responsible for overlooking the interns they had hired and tracking their progress. You also remember how the behemoth of a man had almost made you pee your pants when Johnny first introduced him to you, all in his brooding glory.
You have half a mind to reject his request on that basis alone, afraid to attract his attention onto you. But then Jo looks at you with his puppy brown eyes(a complete opposite from his uncle’s brilliant blue eyes) and furrowed brows, his lips downturned as he looks at you with pure hope and you find yourself sighing as you finally acquiesce, “Fine, just mail it to me before you leave for lunch, and I will send you the finished file before the deadline.”
He fistbumps the air and promises to you, “I will pay for your coffee! And a snack too! For a week! You’re the best!”, before he leaves you to your own devices.
You sigh out in exasperation, leaning back into your ergonomic chair and feeling your back stretch in discomfort. You swear Joseph might give you a few gray hairs by the time his training period is done for good.
You check your drawers for spare snacks, well aware that you’d have to skip lunch if you want to complete your pending work and help Joseph out with his report.
Skipping lunch proves counter intuitive when you find yourself in the common break room and groan at the empty coffee jug, half-heartedly making a fresh batch for yourself and for your forgetful colleagues as well. While you wait for the java to slowly percolate and drip down into the empty pot through the freshly-changed filters, you look inside the freezer in hopes of finding some frozen food you can microwave, or at least find a spare ice cream for you to munch on.
Unsuccessful in your search, you instead nibble away at the granola bar you found stuffed inside one of the spare drawers, when one of your coworkers decides to join you in the break room. You pause as you see Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, the cyber sec guy, enter the room and stand a few feet away from you as he eyes the whirring coffee machine with interest. You find it hard to even exist in his larger than life presence, as his giant stature almost compels you to hunch your shoulders and curl in on yourself - a poor attempt to hide away from his intimidating figure, like a doe-eyed prey trying to shy away from an apex predator, and futilely hoping for it to forget about you if you try your best to blend into your bland, uninteresting surroundings.
You always feel odd whenever you interact with Riley. Mostly, you do not know what to feel about him. He’s silent and deadly, and the horror stories you have heard from the fresh batch of interns about his anger and his need for perfection has cemented his image as a strong and fearsome, unapproachable figure into your mind just fine. Standing at 6’2 with broad shoulders and veiny arms visible thanks to his summer tees and thick thighs that bulge whenever he wears those tight black jeans that only makes you all the more curious-
The ‘mindless’ rambling aside, his appearance is enough to put the fear of God into you. Add his rough and not-so-friendly demeanor along with his deep voice, and you have got one very attractive asshole who you can never approach no matter how much you’re compelled to make a move on him. You almost thank him for it, because mixing pleasure with business will only ever land you in trouble, if you’re being honest with yourself.
He nods at you and you are forced to acknowledge him with a calm greeting, as your fingers silently drum against the marble island of the kitchen.
“Didn’t have lunch?” he asked you with his gravelly voice, and you wonder how many girls have swooned (and possibly gotten their panties wet) when he addressed them so casually. You’re pretty sure he can read a grocery list and make a girl wetter than the Atlantic just fine.
You shake your head, “Had some catchin’ up to do, sir.”
His eyes appear darker than usual, despite being his softest feature yet, “Skipping meals won’t do you any good, you know. Better to eat a proper meal than whatever you’re having right now.”
“I know”, you tell him, well aware that whatever excuse you use here would just land you in hot waters with the weirdly overprotective man anyway. You’d rather not get lectured by the man today.
Whether it is because he might make you cry, or turn you on - you do not know and are not eager to find out either.
The ceasing of the brew trickling into the glass pot allows you to divert your attention to the caffeine concoction you have just created. Pouring some of the hot liquid into your cup, you see someone push their mug beside it. Looking up, you see Simon standing beside you with an amused look on his face. You blink at him in confusion, and he gently shakes his glass, begging for some much-needed coffee.
He explains himself, “Had some of the early morning brew, tasted like dogshit.”
You laugh at his sudden crassness, finding it too funny to clarify that the morning brew was made by his beloved friend, Johnny. Mactavish would’ve chewed him out for that if he was there, but he’s having one of those few days wherein his meetings made it hard for his schedule to sync up with Simon’s.
Taking a slow sip out of white mug, he replies with a wry smile, “Yours always tasted better anyway.”
And then, he exits the scene and leaves you in a puddle of pure confusion, with one question looping in your mind - When has he ever tasted your coffee?
You’re thankful Simon has already left and cannot witness your flustered state at his sudden remark.
Author's Note -
Happy breaking out of writer's block to me!
Finally able to write and post something after a month of inactivity and contemplating about abandoning this blog all together. Glad I persevered through it though.
I came up with this after reading a dozen or so fanfics throughout the week while worrying about landing a job where I am interning. Very original, I know. I also think this would be a relatively shorter series, given how it is more lighter than some of my other works and WIP materials.
Also, I am hoping to stick to a schedule in order to hold myself more accountable and write more consistently. So expect new updates every 2nd and 4th Sunday/Monday :>
Until then, have a great week ahead. I have to sleep if I want to wake up on time and start work. ;-;
#call of duty#cod:mw2#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley smut#ghost x y/n#ghost x reader#call of duty au#call of duty smut#char.simon ghost riley#🖇️.after hours#celena.writes
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
Roy Mustang's observation diary review
I finally read the “Roy Mustang's observation diary”, and I have to say that it's a shame this isn’t translated to English. This bonus chapter is just hilarious.
For those unfamiliar with it, the “Roy Mustang's observation diary” is a Fullmetal Alchemist bonus chapter released in Japan along with the manga's 6th volume on 2003. Unlike the other bonus chapters this one is written as a Journal written by Havoc, Breda, Fuery, and Falman instead of being a graphic novel chapter.
In this bonus chapter, Central Command has grown bored of the annual evaluation to East Command and has decided to assign each East Command personnel a person to evaluate instead of sending someone from Central to do the job. Jean Havoc gets Roy Mustang. You see, Roy had recently “stolen” Havoc's crush, and Havoc is bitter and determined to teach Mustang a lesson. So he enrolls the team, sans Hawkeye, to help him observe Roy, 24/7, for 5 days and shenanigans ensue. xD
Some of the my favorite moments were:
Roy trying and failing to feed Hayate half of his lunch sandwich.
Havoc waking Roy up from a nap to “check if he was breathing because he was being too quiet”, and Roy chasing him out of the room while screaming that “Of course, I can't breathe if you cover my nose and mouth”. Come on, Havoc, you just wanted to torture him a little, didn't you? xD
Riza using her shotgun on the shooting range when Roy’s procrastination led to her workload increasing. I guess it's easy to guess when she's pissed.
Roy getting sick from Riza's tea, and Fuery being an absolute sweetheart, finding it odd because the military’s terrible tea tastes better when brewed by Hawkeye. Roy, Havoc, Breda, and Falman profusely disagree. “It's your imagination, Fuery.” Either Riza is bad at brewing tea or — most likely — she uses the tea to punish the boys when she's pissed. lol
All the Havoc and Breda banter. Poor Havoc got called out by Breda every single time he tried to spin something in his favor. Breda is such a ruthless BFF. XD
Really, this was pure gold. I totally recommend it. I love this silly team so much.
The “Roy Mustang’s observation diary” can be found as part of the “Fullmetal Alchemist Chronicle” book. As I mentioned earlier, this is not available in English, currently you can get this either in the original Japanese edition — which I own — or an official French translation.
#fullmetal alchemist#Roy Mustang's observation diary#roy mustang#jean havoc#riza hawkeye#review#my thoughts
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
take this as your sign from your most least somewhere-in-the-middle favorite tumblr blog 🫶 read this webtoon 🫶
#interesting thing is. i do NOT recommend the original novel#its much more typical of the romfan genre#but the manhwa artist has been taking some liberties with the story and characters and I LOVE IT#they clearly know how to tell a story and convey emotions soooooo fucking well. so subtly.#PLEASEEEEEE TAKE MY WORD. TAKE MY ORV WORD.#READ ALL THE AVAILABLE CHAPTERS OR JUST TRY TO GET TO LIKE#CH 54????#IDK THE HALFWAY POINT?#YOU'LL KNOW WHAT I MEAN BUT THE MALE LEAD WILL GO FROM A TYPICAL DUKE OF THE NORTH TO AN ACTUAL PERSON#YOU'LL REALIZE HE'S NOT A COOKIE CUTTER ML
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
i found a folded schedule and campus map from 2014 in a book at my university’s library today. almost a decade it went untouched. my heart hurts i love life
#the pages it was between were in the chapter i needed too#sobbing#i didn’t even want to move it but i had to so i could finish working#i had to find a certain section for my prof and there weren’t any copies online#my dumbass crawling all over the shelves trying to match the letters + numbers on the call tag i found online#all the check out stamps in the front say 1999… 2001… i could cry#when i saw that i kind of just stood in the bookshelf aisle like. oh wow#in 1999 someone was just like me#except scanning and pictures didn’t exist so they had to take it to their dorm to read and had to keep coming back week after week to renew#it because they were so obsessed with writing about it for their class and couldn’t let it go#+ fighting with everyone else over the singular copy available#and then the next semester there was someone else and then…#TAKING OICTURES W THEIR PHOJE *** SORRY I NEVER REREAD#i just needed to get smth rq from the book so i left it behind after but it was so bittersweet :( like me n u are forever connected… ilu#yes i took the papers i found for. reasons. they are my treasures now
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've seen pieces from this extra comic before, but never read the full thing until today. And holy shit does it hammer home just how much the story is about class.
Multiple times, when food comes up in this comic, it’s also in context of money:
I've seen this last panel on the right brought up before in context of like, dungeon meshi's relationship with fat and eating, but in the full context of the comic it really hits how much adventuring directly consumes bodies for money.
As much as this has been part of the story the whole time, showcased as early chapters 19 and 20...
It never fully hit me before how often adventuring comes down to having no other way to make money but to throw yourself into death repeatedly. To be used, whether it’s by individual selfish people (like the resurrection group that is happy to try and get Kabru's group to kill each other to get extra gold from them in chapter 32), or by the greater cog of the Dungeon Economy in general.
Which, to be clear, is all too often how things work in the real world, too. So many jobs burn through the health and lives of workers. Dungeon Meshi just makes it literal in a new way: by making the healing and resurrection, a core part to the adventuring loop, directly use fat, muscle, and energy from the body being healed.
Imagine Amazon, but if you got injured at work, they could literally burn up some of your body to get you back to working sooner. And that was seen as an advantage of the job.
And then you have Laios, thinking about eating monsters:
Not just because he likes monsters a lot. But because it would help. He says something similar in the actual manga too, during the chapter discussing his dream with the Winged Lion
Laios wants to be able to make a home for Falin. He wants to give her a place where she never has to eat alone. And when he gets a party, he wants to give them a way to eat well. And when he runs a country, well…
He wants to ensure that everyone has enough to eat.
Food is political. Food ties into class, and money. What is deemed "proper" to eat, what is a luxury, what is crass… so much of it comes down to money.
Being judged for eating what's available, when what is “proper” isn't affordable, is already a thing that happens. People forced into work that consumes their energy is already a thing that happens.
Dungeon Meshi has a lot of fantastical elements, but boy is its examination of food and class very real.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#laios touden#dungeon meshi spoilers#the full thing is up on mangadex and I v much recommend giving it a read#dunmeshi analysis
16K notes
·
View notes
Text
Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 4
Word Count ~ 4.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ minor blood and violence, sexual content
Also available on AO3
taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
You’ve only barely begun to recover from the wrung out feeling of ultimate bliss when you hear it: the warning klaxon, followed by the sound of tires screeching to a halt. The aggressive roar of truck engines. Doors opening in rapid succession. Loud voices and boots pounding on pavement.
The doppelgänger jerks upright, sliding off the bed and wrenching the curtains to one side to peer down at the scene unfolding on the street below. “They’re here,” he says, and for the first time you detect something like fear wafting from the imposter.
A flood of relief washes over you. Someone had alerted the disposal unit. It wasn’t too late to save lives after all.
You search for your discarded clothing, hurriedly sliding the retrieved garments back into place. Francis’ copy looks at you.
“They’ll know you let me in.”
“Yes,” you agree distractedly, hastily shoving the hem of your blouse back beneath the waist of your skirt.
“They’ll know,” he says again, more firmly this time, moving in front of you, one hand closing around the wrist you’ve yet to refasten the shirt cuff upon. “They’ll know about me.”
You stare at him, realization kicking in. The others were safe. You, however, had no such guarantee. “Are you going to kill me?”
“I should. You’re a liability.” His grip on you abruptly relaxes. He’s merely holding you now. “Your organization will punish you for this.”
You shake your head, trying to hastily tuck your hair back into place. “Not once they hear my explanation.”
The intruder scowls. “What defense will you offer? You knowingly let a replicant into your precious building.”
“I…” Your confidence wavers as you begin to consider how your actions will appear. He’s right. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done. You’ve not only failed at your assigned task, you’ve betrayed your own kind. An unforgivable crime.
He seems to read the slight panic on your features, his voice gentling. “Suppose we make a deal,” he says.
You look at him warily. “What kind of deal?”
“I make it look like you were attacked while you tried to fend me off. Make up some doppelgänger appearance when they ask you. Don’t tell them about Francis’ death. You get to live. I get to go down the fire escape, avoiding extinction.”
A life for a life, in essence. The elevator was temporarily disabled the second the alarm was pushed, but it won’t take the team long to sweep each floor. You were running out of time.
“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.
He turns your arm over so the underside is exposed, thumb pressing firmly just below the hollow of your elbow. “This will hurt,” he cautions. The only warning you get before you see it: that thing inside of the milkman breaking through, emerging. A sickly gray-green digit topped with a sharp yellow claw. He drags it right through the fabric of your shirt, right through your skin. It burns. A blossoming line of red appears, your lifeforce weeping out of the laceration. You feel lightheaded and nauseous.
“Don’t look at it. And don’t let it get on the carpet. We need to leave, now.” He steps back into the milkman’s shoes, not even bothering with the laces. You follow him to the front door, exiting the apartment. Locked again. You hear voices echoing in the stairwell, the heavy tred of the suited disposal unit pounding on the steps.
“Remember what I said.” The imitation’s knuckles graze your cheek, the touch almost tender. The injured arm cradled against your chest is throbbing. “I’m going to knock you out. It will help further disguise what happened.” The voices are getting louder. They’ve finished on the second floor, making their way to the third. The doppel’s fingers curl around the back of your neck, his mouth brushing yours hurriedly before your head is slammed against the wall, sending you hurtling into a void of darkness.
***
There is a debriefing after the incident.
No casualties. The residents were safe, excluding Francis, of course. You have a lie ready to account for his sudden absence. You say you’d heard him mention something about an emergency visit to a sick relative in a neighboring city as he’d dashed out the front door earlier that day. A phone call to his employer wouldn’t match this story, of course. You weren’t sure what family the man even had. None that would corroborate your fabrication, certainly. You were just hoping that your claim about him needing to leave abruptly very early in the morning without contacting anyone was convincing enough. It’s all you can think of on the spur of the moment.
The director, a severe looking middle aged man, frowns over the lenses of his glasses at you. You keep your hands folded tightly in your lap. Your stitched wound is slowly healing, the ache now a sort of dull throbbing that you’re consciously aware of from time to time. No apparent signs of infection, the surrounding skin clear.
“Your track record, up until now, has been impeccable.” The older man’s voice brings you out of your reverie.
“Yes, sir.” It’s true. For six months you’d performed your role as doorman perfectly. Never failing to detect a single doppelgänger. Protecting the innocent.
“Still, this is not a transgression that can simply be overlooked. The consequences of your misjudgment could have been dire.”
You’d stated that you’d realized the person requesting entrance was really a copy only after the door had been opened, catching an error on the paperwork at the last minute. Intervening, attempting to stall the intruder. Injured and knocked unconscious. You knew nothing more after that.
“It’s suspicious that none of this alleged false documentation has been retrieved at the site. Strange also that you’d been carried all the way to the third floor. We also have no record even remotely matching the description of the doppel you’ve given. How do you account for these discrepancies?”
“The replicant stated they were a new resident moving in to the vacant apartment on the third floor. It seemed plausible that there hadn’t been a chance for them to be featured on the day’s list yet. It’s hardly the first time someone’s name hasn’t been placed as it should be. The subtly incorrect DDD logo was the tip off I unfortunately picked up on too late, sir.” You pause, clearing your throat. There is virtually no moisture left in your mouth and you find it suddenly parchment dry. It’s difficult to speak, your nerves betraying you. “The replicant must have taken the paperwork with them in order to conceal the evidence. And I was knocked out immediately after being cut. I don’t remember anything after that.”
His lips press into a thin line. Your force yourself to maintain eye contact. This was your explanation and you could not falter. “Even so. You failed to follow protocol. And you failed to contact the disposal team.”
“There wasn’t time to dial the phone number. Not even time to sound the alarm. I simply reacted on instinct. I was hoping to…”
“To what? What did you think you would accomplish? You, a mere unarmed woman?” He drapes the last word in contempt. You flush, squirming in your seat at the insult.
The suited man sighs heavily, closing your file folder. “You’re going to be suspended without pay for one week. Then I expect you to return to work. Your temporary replacement is…less than ideal. Let me be clear, though: if anything else happens, you’ll be terminated. No debriefing. No excuses. Understood? This is your final warning.”
You nod, saving your sigh of relief for when you’ve exited the office. The air departs your lungs in a loud rush. You’d done it. You’d actually managed to talk your way out of it.
Your thoughts immediately shift to Francis’ doppelgänger.
He was out there, somewhere. The safest move would be to travel, to just flee the area entirely, but you doubt he’ll leave. He’s still here.
You can feel him.
***
You drive to your house, to the home of your childhood. An inheritance from your great grandparents, passed down through each generation. Outside of the city. Quiet. It’s a relief to see green again. The air smells clearer, too. No waste from factory smokestacks or concentrated exhaust from automobiles. A light scent of grass and summer wildflowers. You roll your window down, inhaling deeply. It’s the best you’ve felt in a while. Since before the incident.
Francis. Your good mood departs just as quickly as it had arrived. How terrible a person you are. Lying to save your own skin. To protect the doppelgänger that had killed your beloved milkman. Putting innocent lives at risk. You had no right to feel anything even resembling happiness or contentment. You should turn the car right back around and return to the office. Confess your sins and receive whatever punishment would be decided for you. Imprisonment, certainly. Perhaps a life sentence to match the life that had been stolen from the third floor resident.
You trudge up the steps of the porch, sinking down onto the topmost stair, your head resting against the post of the railing. There are strips of paint peeling, you notice. You’ll need to sand them down before you apply more stain. Something to occupy you during your week off. Distract you from your own misery.
You close your eyes and listen to the hum of insects. There is another scent in the air now; something damp. The sky’s clouds were white and fluffy looking, but you know those can change in an instant. You think there is a storm approaching.
Perhaps you will wait it out. Just rest here and see what happens, studying your surroundings. There are birds singing in the vacant field that hasn’t known crops for many seasons. You only tended a much smaller one close to the house. Some vegetables. That was all. More often than not the local wildlife took a sample, but you didn’t mind sharing. You should have a look before you head back inside later on, see if there is anything to harvest.
It’s comfortable here. The sun is at the perfect angle. You still have plenty of shade. Warm enough to warrant rolling your shirt sleeves back. Catching sight of the scabbed, sutured line marring your forearm. You trace the mark. You think about the copycat tracing your cheek. That final kiss before he’d knocked you unconscious. It made so little sense to let you live. Had some remnant of Francis’ psyche influenced him somehow? Urging him to spare you?
Your eyes slide closed and you drift off to sleep still mulling this over.
***
In the dream you are standing in the nearby orchard.
You know it is a dream, because in reality these fruit trees are no longer tended. Yet here you are, standing beneath the crooked branches of one peach bearing specimen. The many smooth emerald leaves shield you from the sun.
Francis is beside you.
Or not-Francis. You cannot say which it is. The smile is as you remember. The perpetually tired eyes. He reaches for one of the velvet skinned fruits, plucking it easily and handing it to you.
The texture is exactly as it should be. Not too firm and not too soft. Ripe and ready to take a bite from. You do so, your teeth sinking into the soft yellow flesh. A burst of sweetness on your tongue. The excess juice drips down your chin. You offer the peach to the milkman but he doesn’t accept, instead moving to take a taste of it from your face, first doting on your lips before he laps at the dribbling trail. You clutch his shirt and his kisses become rougher. Pushing you gently to the ground. You drop the fruit and your hands become full of his shirt, his hair, the soft earth beneath you. His mouth plants kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Hand dragging down through the floral patterned button front dress you’re wearing.
“Francis.” You reach for his face. It’s wrong. Something in the structure of the nose. So subtle it could easily be mistaken. The teeth suddenly bared in a smile that’s unfriendly. A grin of triumph. It isn’t Francis. You’ve been duped by an imposter.
The skin ripples. His eyes become bloodshot. You struggle to move. Your wrists are pinned at your sides. Sharp teeth nipping at the skin of your throat. A wolf ready to destroy its prey.
The thunder awakens you.
You jolt upright, massaging your stiff neck as you glance around hurriedly. The sky is a mass of gray clouds now, the natural illumination of the heavens notably dimmed. The air is laced with the scent of petrichor. You rise and the first drops of rain fall, pattering on your bare arms, sinking into you hair. Another disgruntled warning rumble, louder this time. The interval between that and the next shortening. You’re about to turn and enter the house when you see a figure standing nearby, on the outskirts of the side yard.
It’s him. The imposter that took over Francis.
The normally pristine, starched uniform is dirt stained, collecting souvenirs from the unpaved road leading to your house. The bowtie around his neck is loosened, draped around the unbuttoned shirt collar, the first several buttons of that work shirt similarly unfastened, revealing the white undershirt beneath. He’d never bothered retrieving the hat, the uncovered thatch of thick chestnut hair now tousled. Your fingers curl around the railing for support as he begins walking towards you with determined strides, closing the distance rapidly. The thunderstorm’s namesake harbinger sounds again. A flash of lightning. The rain is no longer a faint scattering of drops, now falling in an earnest deluge.
You both manage to escape being drenched, finding shelter beneath the porch roof in the knick of time, the imposter halting just in front of you. His chest is rapidly rising and falling, as if that brief exercise he’d just participated in was taxing him. You know that’s not the reason for those panted gasps for air, your own body mimicking that movement.
“Francis,” you say, but the name is drowned out by the growing ire of the storm.
He moves then, pressing you against the weathered clapboards near the living room window that overlooks the front yard. He cups your face between his hands and his lips crush yours. You respond without hesitation, kissing him back. Not giving yourself time to think about what you’re doing; to recall the dream you’d just had where you’d been destroyed by one of his kind.
“How did you find me?” You gasp when you part for air.
This utterance is barely audible, threaded between the next two bouts of thunder, muffled by the sound of the downpour. He slides his fingers against the harsh furrow on your arm. “I could sense where you were. Tracked you…” The words drowned out once again. His mouth moves close to your ear. “What did you say to them? What happened?”
“They bought it, for the most part, I think. The director is suspicious, though. I got suspended for a week.”
Another flash of lightning. It was foolish to remain outside any longer. You invite him in, struggling to fit the key in the lock, your trembling fingers not cooperating. His hand closes over yours, steadying you. The door surrenders, swinging inward.
It’s dark in the living room. You switch on the nearest lamp and toss your keys on the table.
“I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t know if you still do that, or…” It was unknown what the doppelgängers consumed for nutrition. Perhaps it would be different now that they could occupy a human body and not merely disguise themselves as one.
“I do. But that can wait.”
“Did you know that would happen? You being able to trace my whereabouts when you cut me?”
“No. It’s uncharted territory. Like so much of…this,” he murmurs.
“You need to call Francis’ workplace. Explain to them that there was a family emergency. That’s the excuse I gave for the sudden absence. The DDD has been looking for you. Well, for him,” you correct yourself.
“They’ll expect me to return at some point.”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll let me in. To dwell there. And what of my brethren?”
“I can’t let them in. You know that.” You swallow nervously. “You can’t harm anyone. If I let you inside, you have to promise me you won’t. You got what you wanted. You got to be one of us. There’s no reason to hurt anyone else.”
A large clap of thunder makes you jump. The doppelgänger moves closer to you, tipping his head to one side thoughtfully. “You think I’ll cooperate?”
“We had a deal. I let you escape. I lied to protect you.”
“And I let you live. Both ends of the bargain fulfilled. There is no obligation beyond that.”
“You don’t want to hurt me.”
“Are you quite sure of that?” One arm circles your waist, drawing you against him. His fingers sift through your hair, tugging your head back slightly. “These hungers for the flesh are so distracting. How your kind manages them…” His voice trails off and his lips touch yours.
The light flickers and dies. You’ve lost electricity, now standing in the darkened room cradled by the deceiver.
“<i>The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep</i>…”
You inhale sharply, thinking of the Bible on Francis’ nightstand. Reading scripture like any good devout soul, learning verses by heart. That memory resurfacing now.
“Francis.” You know it’s no longer him, not in his purest, human essence, but this evolution still holds traces like this that you can’t help but hold dear.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” His hands slide down over the curve of your buttocks as he kisses the corner of your jaw. You guide him towards the nearby couch, watching him sink into the cushions before you climb into his lap, your shoes sliding off and falling to the hardwood floor. You run your fingers through his hair, your mouth ravaging his. It’s the parts of Francis that you love that you’re adoring, you tell yourself. Not the pretender, but the fragments of the man inside he still carries with him. That is what your fingers caress and your mouth cherishes. You unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, then reach for the belt buckle, jerking the leather strap free from the metal, all while your lips and tongue work in a frenzy over his.
The rain and the thunder becomes white noise, a nearly muted sound in the background as you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper, the metal teeth parting to reveal white briefs. You touch his erection through that thin material, feeling the hard, thick line of it and he hisses, then groans somewhere near your neck.
“Yes, love, that’s what I need…”
You shove your hand beneath the elastic waistband and you make contact with feverish flesh. Another groan from the imposter. You sweep over the head of his cock, realizing he’s circumcised, smoothing leaking precum over the dome before you wrap your fingers around the shaft and begin stroking up and down. He moans into your mouth. It’s not the best angle, your hand a bit squashed awkwardly between your bodies. You slide off his thighs to sit beside him, never breaking contact, still pumping his prick, rolling your fingers over the crest as you reach the top, thumb dragging over the frenulum with each pass. Your tongue dances over his and you feel the arousal leaking from your own sex, soaking your panties.
Another glob of clear fluid oozes from the tip and your mouth waters. You want to taste it. Want to feel him in your mouth.
Your lips abandon his and he frowns, confused until he sees your head bowing over his lap, your body shifting as you engulf his turgid member. Another hissing sound of pleasure as the slightly musky flavor hits your taste buds. You haven’t fully taken him inside yet, only reaching close to halfway, applying suction as you move across that shallow expanse, allowing yourself to become accustomed to the length and girth of him. His fingers touch your head, not applying force, just resting there. You release his cock with a wet popping sound, stroking your saliva over his erection before taking him into your mouth again. You push deeper this time, forcing your lips closer to the base of his cock, to the nest of dark pubic hair. Your throat protests and you gag, the fingers on your head now tightening, pressing, urging you on.
“Sweet girl, that’s it, you can take it. All the way. Fuck.” The curse is something you’d never imagine coming from the milkman’s lips, but you find yourself aroused by it, the depravity of what you’re doing erotic. Your head bobs, dipping lower each time, eliciting an obscene wet squelching sound as his prick collides with your throat. There’s a higher pitch to his sounds of pleasure now. His hips lift to meet you, shoving him in as deep as he can reach while your nostrils flare, searching for a greater air supply.
Your nails dig into this thigh. The loosened belt buckle jingles with each thrust into that moist cavity you’ve provided. The fingers in your hair loosen, allowing you a brief respite. You withdraw and cough. A thick trail of saliva connects your lower lip to his glistening cock. Your fingers massage through the slick and he hums appreciatively. Your lips feel slightly numb, tingling from the stretch. There’s a burning sensation in your abused throat, a soreness when you swallow. But the discomfort is bearable. You want to do this. You want him to feel good.
You suck in a lungful of air and then begin again. You hear the replicant’s breathing becoming shallower, more rapid. He’s getting close. You redouble your efforts, moving fast and deep.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me…it’s so fucking good…”
His hips snap up and an acrid spill of semen floods your throat. It catches you by surprise and you choke around the pulsing erection. It’s a copious amount of seed that spills over your retreating tongue. You swallow down the last of the bitter fluid, straightening, dragging the back of your hand across your spit drenched chin.
“That was…you…” The creature is speechless. You can’t help but feel a little pride over that. He captures your lips, mulling over the taste he’s left there. “I want to taste you,” he says, and your pussy throbs. “I want you to cum inside my mouth.”
He moves off the couch, kneeling in front of you. Shoving at your skirt. You hurriedly hook your thumbs over the edge of your panties and drag them down, feeling how wet the crotch is as they drag across your legs. Scooting closer to the edge, spreading yourself open for him.
His face moves forward and his tongue parts your folds. Laving down to gather a sample of your arousal. Humming with approval at the taste of you as he focuses on your clit. A long, slow drag over the sensitive nub. You whimper. His thumbs wedge along either side of your sex, stretching the pink flesh further open. His mouth covers your cunt and he sucks and your thighs try to close, the sensation overwhelming.
“Oh sweetheart, you’re delicious.” Slurping on your clit now. You thread your fingers through his hair, caressing his head as his tongue flicks across the hooded button. He doesn’t need guidance this time. Everything is the way you like it. Dividing attention between your clitoris and the entrance of your pussy. Pushing that muscle inside, fucking you with his tongue, alternating with lapping at your bundle of nerve endings. You wish it wasn’t quite so dark. You want to see his eyes. You know he’s looking at you even if he can’t discern much in the dim gray light filtering in through the windows. Watching your reaction even as he feels it in his mouth. Hears the pleading, the needy gasps and moans, the whining that begins the closer you get to coming apart in his mouth.
He moans, too, and the vibrations of that sound add another layer to your pleasure. A finger makes its way inside you. Violated by a second soon after, thrusting while he sucks your clit. You climax, panting his name over and over, your fingers frantic in his hair, your pelvis quaking as your grind yourself against him.
Eventually your movements lessen. He eases back and your quivering legs draw closed. He rejoins you on the couch, his mouth on yours, gifting you a taste of yourself.
Then you sit quietly, listening to the diminishing storm outside. The rain drums on the roof and taps along the gutters with a soft metallic sound. Your face is tucked into the doppel’s shoulder, one hand resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his arm curled around your shoulders.
You shouldn’t enjoy this. Any of this. You should be afraid, disgusted. Instead you feel oddly calm. Safe in his arms, even though you certainly aren’t. These alien beings were masters of deception and manipulation. You know better. It was foolish, what you were doing. Dangerous—for you, for everyone else.
But you’re convinced more than ever that some part of Francis is still buried within. The goodness of him negating the evil of this imposter.
“I’ll make the call in the morning.” The first words spoken in a long time. Your head lifts. “And I’ll move in to the apartments.”
“Just you. And you won’t harm anyone.”
“You ask for too much.”
“I’m giving up everything for you. Risking my job, my life, the lives of the people I’ve sworn to protect. My heart. My soul,” you finish with a whisper. “I don’t think you understand how many things I’m sacrificing.”
“I’m not human. It’s impossible for me to. There are no words for them in our language because they simply don’t exist.”
“But you want to be us. You should understand…”
“I will make the call and I will move in. Beyond that I am not promising you anything. Except…I do not want you harmed.” He reaches for your arm, tracing over the healing wound he’d inflicted. “I will try to prevent that, at least.”
A small concession, perhaps, but an important one nonetheless. If he was willing to spare you, maybe you could convince him to spare others.
Teach him the value of a human life while taming the monster within that wears the face of the man you love.
#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman#milkman x reader#milkman x you#thats not my neighbor
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
study like paris geller
start early
to get as much done as possible, you may need to start waking up earlier. this can be hard, but once you start, it will get easier and easier until it is part of your routine. wake up earlier, start earlier, get it done.
try not to see others as competition, but use them as motivation
while paris saw rory as competition at first, she finished knowing that no one could compare to her and just because rory was also very intelligent, it doesn’t mean that she wasn’t. there will always be others that are getting better grades than you or studying better than you, but try not to get caught up in that. she’s top of the class? use her to motivate yourself to do better. if you’re feeling low and comparing yourself to others, there’s probably a reason for that. find what it is within yourself, fix it, and come back better than ever.
use all resources available to you
paris wouldn’t let one opportunity to better her education or further her intelligence pass, and neither should you. use every resource and opportunity handed to you and work for the ones that aren’t.
stay determined
there will always be times where you don’t feel like studying or you’re feeling discouraged, but do not let these moments or days keep you from doing what you need to do. it’s okay to rest your brain when needed, but never quit. your future self will thank you for it.
have a plan and stick to it
take time to make a plan that will work realistically and effectively for you. once you have your plan, stick to it. again, there will always be times where you aren’t feeling like it, but don’t let these moments negatively impact your habits and goals. stick to your routine and you will get to a point where you don’t even think twice about it anymore.
go above and beyond
when it comes to studying, it isn’t always enough to just do the bare minimum. most of the time, it will benefit you far more to put some extra time and work in. research further than just a chapter of a textbook or a few slides of a powerpoint. you will never regret being more well-read.
get out of your comfort zone
paris knows that to be the best, you will have to do some things that you have never done before. you will have to talk to new people, present your research to a big group of strangers, travel if needed, learn things you never thought you would have to learn, etc. your comfort zone will be your downfall. realize that you will have to do things you aren’t enthusiastic about, and that’s okay.
#girlblog#girlblogger#dream girl#girlblogging#that girl#self care#self love#glow up#it girl#becoming that girl#self development#self improvement#study#studyspo#studyinspo#study blog#study aesthetic#study tips#study motivation#studyblr#motivation#productivity#paris geller#gilmore girls#romanticizing school#academia#academic validation#dark academia#light academia#academia aesthetic
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope BONUS CHAPTER
Bucky Barnes x Reader
*Read parts 1-10 first for the full effect!*
Summary: It's been a little over a month since you and Bucky decided to begin your secret relationship, but he's grown tired of only getting to have you in the middle of the night. His possessiveness gets the better of him during the team's New Year's Eve party.
Warnings: profanity, teasing, possessive!Bucky, slight angst, public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 4.1k
A/N: Merry Christmas everyone, thanks for all of the support this holiday season! We've made it to the end of the 12ish Days of Smut!
It’s been a little more than a month of sneaking into Bucky’s room every night and then sneaking back into your own every morning. It’s been a little more than a month of finding ways to discretely fuck your frustrations away after every mission. It’s been a little more than a month since the two of you realized that you were in love with each other. Truthfully, it’s been the most difficult yet rewarding month of your life. You might be lying to everyone you know and going out of your way to hide the best thing in your life, but Bucky is everything to you and he’s actually yours.
As you smooth your hands over the tight black dress, feeling the scratchiness of the sequins against your palm, you smile at yourself in the mirror. It’s been a secret obsession of yours to wear Bucky’s dog tags hidden beneath your clothes the last few weeks. It feels so dirty, knowing that not a single person around you would ever have the slightest suspicion that you walk around with his name hanging over your chest every day. James B Barnes. No one would ever have the slightest suspicion that you moan his name every night either. You’ve done such a thorough job of keeping your secret, maintaining that you still can’t stand each other when you’re around the rest of the team but being completely infatuated with each other in private. You’ve loved every fucking minute of it. But Bucky? Bucky feels differently, though he hasn’t communicated that to you yet. He hates the way he has to pretend like you don’t belong to him, like he doesn’t have any right to grab you by the waist and pull you into his lap when you’re around the others. He hates the way other men look at you, like you’re a piece of meat in a damn butcher shop, available for purchase. If they knew who you belonged to, if they knew what he thought about doing to anyone who so much as cast a lingering glance in your direction, they’d all be running for the hills.
Bucky knows better than to slip into your room before everyone has gone to bed for the night, but he’s been caring less and less lately if he gets caught. So, as soon as he pulls on his black suit jacket and slips his phone into his pocket, he crosses the hall and quietly turns your door handle. The sound of the door gliding over the threshold breaks your gaze away from your own reflection and your eyes flit over your shoulder, watching in the mirror as the door opens fully and Bucky steps in. He shuts the door behind him just as quickly as he opened it and then slides the lock into place before turning around to look at you.
Fuck. He approaches you slowly, letting his eyes travel from your black heels, up the backs of your toned legs, straight to where the hem of your sparkly black dress is just barely covering the curve of your ass. Your eyes are settled on his face as his teeth sink into his bottom lip. You know him well enough to know that he’s fighting the urge to rip the dress off of you and make you both late for the New Year’s Eve party you’re supposed to be at in half an hour. That’s exactly what you don’t need right now, not when you’re trying to keep this whole thing a secret.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” You warn him, turning around slowly to face the man who insists on breaking the rules. Now he has a chance to admire the front of your look. His eyes always search for one thing first: the outline of his dog tags beneath your dress. He finds it instantly, though it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone unless they knew they were there.
“I don’t care, I wanted to see you before anyone else does.” Bucky reaches out for you now, his hands landing on either side of your waist to hold you at arm’s length. “Why do you always wear things that make me want to fuck the shit out of you?” He pulls you to his chest and presses his forehead against yours lightly, his blue eyes meeting yours with a loving gaze.
“Because I like when you fuck the shit out of me.” You admit. Bucky groans softly before letting both of his hands fall away from your waist and glide down your hips, curving around to grab two handfuls of your ass. His touch never fails to send the resident butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.
“I’d do it more often if you let me come over earlier than midnight.” Bucky huffs. He ghosts his mouth over yours but he tilts his head to the side and gently presses his lips against your cheek instead, denying you the sweet taste of him. You know that he’s grown to hate how secretive you insist on being. He’s made that known in more ways than one, but he also knows that it was the only rule you set forth at the very beginning of all of this, so he tries his best to put up with it. If this is what he has to do to keep you to himself, then so be it.
It isn’t long before you shoo Bucky out of your room, too worried that someone will knock on your door for something or start wondering where Bucky is if he isn’t in his own room. He heads down the hall and finds Sam, Torres, Wanda, Vision, and Clint all gathered around the elevator, ready to head downstairs and separate into a couple of cars to drive over to the club Tony rented out for the night.
“It took you that long to put on a suit?” Sam questions jokingly, clapping Bucky on the shoulder. “I thought you might’ve been curling your hair or something.” Bucky rolls his eyes but chuckles lightly, finding a little bit of humor in Sam’s joke. He wishes he could just say he was with you, but of course, he won’t. It’s only a minute later when the sound of your heels clicking on the hard floor of the hallway reaches everyone’s ears, and all eyes are on you as you finally appear, ready to head out. A few friendly whistles and compliments ring out from the group, but your eyes are only on Bucky. He stares at you with a hunger in his eyes and lust written all over his face. Before anyone can notice the way you’re staring right back at the super soldier, you break your gaze away from him and remind yourself that you have to spend this entire holiday evening acting like you can’t stand him. A heavy sadness settles in your chest as you pile into the elevator with your friends, feeling Bucky’s arm just barely brush against yours. You’ve just realized you won’t even be able to kiss him at midnight.
---
“Just give him a chance, he’s a pretty decent guy from what I can tell.” Clint lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a small sip after urging you to go talk to the SHIELD agent that’s been staring you down since you walked into the club an hour ago. “Nat would’ve shoved you over there already if she was here.” The mention of Nat doesn’t come with as much sadness as it used to, it comes with a lot more nostalgia now, which you welcome.
“I’m sure he’s a decent guy, but I’m not interested.” You respond with a sweet smile, dragging your fingertip around the rim of your own bottle. You glance over in the guy’s direction, and once again, find him staring at you shamelessly. When you turn your head back to the group, your eyes land on Bucky, who sits across from you and between Sam and Clint. His lips are pulled together in a taut line, he’s actually nearly scowling at the current topic of conversation. His stare is icy as his eyes rake over you. He’s pissed. The group continues on, all talking about why you should go over and talk to the guy, about how cute the two of you would be together if you just gave him a chance. You haven’t heard a word. You can’t ever focus when Bucky stares at you like he fucking hates you. Bucky, however, has heard and hated every single word that’s been spoken for the past minute since you started meeting his stare. He’s had enough.
“Go over there and ask him if he has someone to kiss at midnight.” Sam teases, looking right at you as he points the mouth of his bottle in the direction of the guy.
“She’s not doing a damn thing.”
Everyone’s heads snap to look at Bucky. No way he just said that. There is no fucking way he really just risked it all over a harmless little conversation. The two of you are staring at each other as everyone else’s eyes dart back and forth between you, waiting for either one of you to say anything else.
“Why not?” Sam finally breaks the silence, beginning to understand what might be going on here. He wants to hear one of you say it, he wants one of you to admit it. You give Bucky a warning glance that says don’t you fucking dare, but of course, Bucky simply raises an eyebrow at you and then he dares.
“Why don’t you tell him, sweetheart?” Fuck. Him. Fuck Bucky Barnes. He chooses that moment to stand up and smirk at you, ignoring everyone else in the group as he leaves you sitting there. Bucky heads straight for the bar across the room, weaving his way through the crowd of people as smiles to himself. He knows he shouldn’t have done it and he knows good and well that you’ll be beyond pissed with him. But he was already pissed. You were really going to sit there and let them continue encouraging you to go out with some other guy? Even if you weren’t going to give the guy a chance, how could you stand to listen to everyone tell you how good you’d be with someone other than Bucky?
“Why the hell did you do that?” Your angry tone rings out behind Bucky mere seconds after he’s stepped up to the bar. He doesn’t even turn to look at you as you come to stand on his right side. He waves over the bartender and lifts his beer bottle, letting him know that he’d like another, all while refusing to look at you.
“I wasn’t going to sit there and listen to that shit any longer.” Bucky answers nonchalantly, like he didn’t just out your secret relationship to your friends and colleagues, like he didn’t just break one of the only two rules you’d set for your relationship.
“You’re so damn possessive and I hate it.” You spit the words out like they’re poison. You don’t even have a moment to dramatically storm off like you’d planned, before Bucky’s turning to you and lifting his flesh hand to your chest. Your eyes flit down to the veins on the back of his hand just as the tip of his index finger comes to rest on the notch between your collarbones. You’re frozen in place as he drags his fingertip down your sternum. He’s searching for something. As soon as he finds the outline of his dog tags beneath the fabric of your dress, he stops moving his hand and looks into your eyes. He taps his finger against the tags gently, his tongue wetting his bottom lip.
“Remember whose name you’re wearing right now, or I’ll take you right here to remind you myself.” An icy chill races down your spine at his words, raising goosebumps all over your skin. He gives you a few seconds to think about what he’s just said before he asks his question. “Whose name hangs around your neck?” You swallow hard, wanting so badly to answer him when he talks to you like this, but refusing to give him the satisfaction after what he just said in front of everyone. He tsks softly and lets his hand fall away from your chest. “I thought I fucked that stubborn attitude out of you the first night we spent together. Such a shame to see it back now.”
You don’t fight him when you feel his flesh hand wrapping around your wrist and spinning you around to face away from him. You don’t fight when he shoves you forward, moving his flesh hand to the small of your back and guiding you to the back of the club where the restrooms are. You don’t even know why you don’t fight him. You’re angry as hell and want nothing more than to throw a fit, to scream at him, to hurt his feelings for disrespecting your only wish.
“Why isn’t it being with me enough for you? Why does everyone have to know about us?” You demand to know as he shoves you through the women’s bathroom door and quickly shuts it behind you both. You stand near the door, crossing your arms over your chest and watching as his stalks across the bathroom, checking each stall to make sure they’re all empty.
Bucky runs his flesh hand through his hair as his eyes coast down to where his dog tags are hidden underneath your dress.
“I only get to be with you between the hours of midnight and six in the morning, that’s enough for you?”
“You agreed to this from the beginning Bucky, we both knew this needed to be a secret if we wanted to keep being partners in the field.”
“I don’t agree anymore.” Bucky says pointedly, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Yeah, I got that when you outed us in front of everyone.” Your tone is laced with malice. What else could it possibly be laced with when you’re as angry as you are? You want to scream, you want to break shit. Why didn’t he just outright tell you that he didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore? You could’ve talked about it in private before something like this happened.
“You shouldn’t have sat there and let that conversation go on for so long. What would you have done if they tried to introduce you to the guy? Would you have let him fucking flirt with you?” Bucky demands to know, his fists clenching at his sides.
“No, I would’ve found a way out of it. I told them I wasn’t interested, Bucky. You don’t have to get so goddamn jealous over nothing.”
“Jealous?” He chuckles darkly, the anger seemingly melting away from his face. “I don’t get jealous when I have what I want.”
“Is that so?” You raise an eyebrow at him, taking a couple of steps further into the bathroom, closing some of the distance between the two of you as you wait for him to say more.
“Whose name is around your neck, sweetheart? Tell me.”
“No.” You refuse defiantly, stopping in your tracks. You’re still about two feet away from him and he hates it. Bucky closes his eyes and massages his temples with his thumb and middle finger. He knows you’re mad at him, he knows he broke your trust, but now he needs to break your stubborn attitude down just so he can have a damn conversation with you.
Bucky closes the last bit of distance between the two of you and places his hands on either side of your face before you can tell say hell no. His lips are on yours in an instant, kissing you the same way he kisses you when you’ve just come back from a frustrating mission that left you both feeling on edge. He puts all of his anger into the kiss, sucking on your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into it a little harder than he normally would. When you gasp against his mouth, he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and caress your tongue with his. He hears that familiar hum rising from your voice as you deepen the kiss and he knows he has you right where he wants you.
“If you won’t simply tell me whose name is around your neck, I have other ways to get it out of you.” Bucky rasps, breaking the kiss and taking a step back from you. He begins unbuckling his belt in a way that makes all of the warmth in your body swim straight for your cunt. You can feel your cheeks heating up as you watch him. You should be telling him off, you should be telling him there’s no fucking way you’re doing this after what he just did out there, but your body is on an entirely different wavelength than your rational mind.
Bucky’s belt comes completely undone and he uses one hand to undo the front of his pants as he tilts head to the side, beckoning you to step over in front of the sinks with him. Why your body chooses to listen to his silent command you have no fucking idea, not when you’re still so angry with him. But you find yourself standing in front of him facing the mirror, looking at him in the reflection as he slides the hem of your dress up your hips and leaves it to sit snug around your waist. He leans forward more, pressing the front of his body against the back of yours as he wraps his flesh hand around your throat gently. You’re no stranger to what he likes to do with that hand. It only took a week of sleeping with him to find out that he’s no 40s man in bed, though you could’ve figured that out from the night you were exposed to the sex pollen, or the night you spent stuck in the hotel together.
Instead of choking you, Bucky slides his hand down your throat and beneath the neckline of your dress, fingering the chain of his dog tags and tugging them until they’re out of your dress and dangling in front of the black sequin fabric. He has a thing about seeing his dog tags around your neck when he fucks you, at this point it’s basically a kink.
“One more chance, baby. Whose name is around your neck?” He asks. Your own body blocks your view as Bucky pushes his boxers and pants further down, freeing his cock and giving it a few slow strokes as he glances down at the black thong you’re wearing. You say nothing, you only bite your lip and try to prepare yourself for what’s about to happen. Bucky sighs and moves forward as much as he possibly can before dragging your thong to the side and guiding his cock between your legs, rubbing the tip back and forth along your already-soaked folds. Normally, he likes to give you time to adjust. He likes to work you up to being able to take his cock so he never leaves you too sore, after all, you never wanted anyone to find out about the two of you. You walking funny every morning would’ve definitely raised some questions. That’s why Bucky decides that this time, he doesn’t give a shit. He looks at you one last time in the mirror, taking in your stare of anticipation and the stubborn look in your eye. Then, he shoves his cock so deep inside of you that you cry out due to the mix of pain and pleasure. You feel more pain than pleasure at first, and you expect him to be still for a moment, to let you adjust to his size. But Bucky doesn’t so much as stutter as he begins to fuck his entire length in and out of you at a bruising pace. You’re a moaning, whimpering mess within seconds, trying your best to pull your hips forward and give yourself some relief from his deep thrusts, but failing due to the way he has you trapped between his body and the sink.
“Bucky, it’s too much.” You cry out a little too loudly, gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles turn white.
“No, baby, you can take it. You always take it so well.” He coos, leaning into you more and pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck. The way his mouth moves over your skin heavily contrasts the way his hips are snapping forward, forcing his cock inside of you hard, repeatedly. He continues fucking you until he can tell that your legs are trembling beneath you, that you’re doing your best to stay upright but likely can’t much longer. He slips his flesh hand between your legs and does the exact thing that you needed him to do to send you over the edge, he starts rubbing fast circles against your clit. Arching your back, you let out a sultry moan as your eyes roll back into your head. Bucky loves seeing you like this, so overwhelmed with pleasure that you can’t even open your pretty little eyes and focus on him. For the past month, he’s made sure that every single time he fucks you, he cums inside of you. Not only has he never once wanted to pull out, but you likely never would’ve let him even if he did. Tonight is going to be different. Bucky continues fucking you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his fingers until he feels the walls of your pussy squeezing his cock so hard that he has to bite his lip and let out a guttural groan to keep from cumming too soon. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby.” Your release is instant at the sound of his command, and your legs nearly give out as your orgasm wracks through your body. He fucks you through it until your moans die down to soft whimpers and you’re able to open your eyes and look at him in the mirror once again, then he pulls his cock out of you.
“Bucky, no, don’t—” Ignoring your protests, he stops rubbing your clit and instead wraps that hand around his shaft, stroking it quickly as he edges himself. He uses his vibranium hand to snag the fabric of your thong and stretch it out enough to give him a small canvas. “Oh, fuck.” The curse falls from your lips as soon as you realize what he’s doing. Bucky groans out a string of filthy curses as he cums all over the inner fabric of your thong, thoroughly coating it.
You’re silent, still trying to catch your breath, when Bucky tucks his cock back into his boxers and pants and then slowly runs his hands up either side of your thighs. He’s gentle as he pulls your thong back into its proper place and then slips a hand between your legs and rubs your pussy through the now wet fabric. Fuck. There’s a soft wet sound as his cum mixes with your wetness, trapped against your cunt by your thong.
“Whose cum are you about to wear for the rest of the night? Whose cum might end up dripping down your leg?” Bucky asks in a serious tone, staring right into your eyes as he continues spreading his cum over your cunt.
“Yours.”
“Good girl. Who just fucked you so hard that you’ll barely be able to walk out of here on your own?”
“You, Bucky.” His name falls from your lips with ease. Truthfully, you can barely remember why you were denying him before.
“That’s right, you’re being so fucking good for me now. Not so stubborn anymore, huh? Whose name have you been wearing around your neck for a goddamn month now? Say it for me.”
“James Bucky Barnes.”
“You are so fucking mine, and every single person out there needs to know that.”
TAG LIST:
@marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bman @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @buckysbvtch3 @charmedbysarge @hensawweston @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera @bubblevicioussss @larajadeschmidt13 @crist1216 @joannaromanoff @jenniferpendragon @i-will-always-kneel-for-smut @justafangirl1 @sydneylaufeyson22 @yourmidnightlover @claireelizabeth85 @multifandom-girlie @keyrani @hhiggs @bambamwolf87 @mrsjoequinn @abitofblues @takeyour-pants-off @buckysbaby-doll @buckbuckybuckaroo @kingfleury @fandomsfeminismandme @purplecolordeer @dear-lolita @dreamlandcreations @imabasicbean @hereticdance @mrs-marc-spector @renatas10 @addymackie @cjand10 @ordelixx @reguluscrystals @bellatrixskr @yujyujj @frombkjar
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#mcu#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Unsaid Vow I
(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)
Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.
Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.
Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!
Read first: Prologue
“I’m a grown man.”
These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.
You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.
If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen. Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.
“Good morning to you too, bud.” You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up. But what was the point of having plans when you had a child? They had a talent for ruining them.
“I’m five today.” Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.
“Yup, I know dumpling.” You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see ‘6:03 am” staring back at you. “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”
You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth.
How could you ever forget that hellish day?
“Mom, it’s my birthday.” Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.
“Yes, happy birthday love.” You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt. “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”
“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”. Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.
Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies.
It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up. You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.
“Right, that is a good point.” You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired. “How does some breakfast sound?”
“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”
“Proposal?” You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.
“Yeah, that.” Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation. “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”
“Coffee?”
“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups. Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.” Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.
“Mmm...” You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer. “What if I gave you a very light coffee? A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”
Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.
With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch. “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud? I’ll be right out.”
The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.
You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of. More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on.
It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place. Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.
No.
Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.
Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later. Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40. Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.
Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from. Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.
A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.
You had asked why, bewildered at the request.
Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?
“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine. I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.” He had said.
That didn’t really make sense to you.
You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.
It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.
It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.
You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.
When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons. The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.
“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.” Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies. “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”
“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”
“You got it, birthday boy.”
The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast. You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.
The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.
You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.
The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.
“And of course, your coffee.” You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.
“Thanks mama.”
The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.
“Something wrong, dumpling?”
“It tastes…fa-fam-”
“Familiar?”
“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”
You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup. “No, this is the kid version. It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”
Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.
Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew. Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.
“So buddy, what do you want to do today? We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”
“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.”
Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.
Hugo had no friends. It was tough for a kid like him to make any. At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park.
Your son was different. He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.
So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends. You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then.
“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.” The boy looked at you skeptically. “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories. Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy. Sounds good?”
Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch. The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.
“Fine mommy, but we should be quick. Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”
“Allergies? Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.” You rolled your eyes.
With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.
When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities.
Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.
‘Be home by 6 please. Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’
#yandere jungkook#bts#yandere bts#jeon jungguk#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#yandere bts fic#yandere imagines#bangtan boys#bts x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
somewhere to run | 10. austin
Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex
WC: 6.6K
A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)
Series Masterlist
One Month Later
Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.
The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.
The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.
The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.
The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.
She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.
"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.
"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Oh?"
"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"
"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.
"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."
"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.
"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"
"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."
"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.
"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."
You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.
For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.
"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."
"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.
"Alone?"
You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.
"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.
"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."
"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."
"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.
"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.
This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.
"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.
"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.
"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.
"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.
"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."
"Right," you said, biting your nail.
"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."
"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.
"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."
"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.
"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."
"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"
"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.
"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."
You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.
Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.
"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.
The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.
"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.
"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.
"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"
"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.
"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.
Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.
You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.
"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.
"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.
"You from 'round here?"
"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.
"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.
"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.
"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.
"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.
"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.
"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.
"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.
"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.
"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.
"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.
"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.
Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.
"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.
"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.
"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.
Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.
After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.
"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?
"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.
"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.
"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.
"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.
"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.
Okay, so probably not an ex.
"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."
"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"
"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.
"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.
"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.
You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.
By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.
"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.
"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.
"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.
"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."
"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.
"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.
"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."
"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.
"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.
"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.
"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"
"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"
"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.
"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."
You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.
"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"
"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.
"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.
"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."
"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.
You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.
As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.
"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.
"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.
"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.
"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.
"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"
You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.
"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.
As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.
Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.
You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.
"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.
"Can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm drivin'."
"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.
"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.
Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.
"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.
He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.
Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.
Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.
"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."
"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."
He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.
"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.
You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.
He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.
"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.
"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.
"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.
"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.
You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.
"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.
"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.
"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.
"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.
"I know."
You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.
"Thank you, Joel."
"You're welcome, baby."
As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.
You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.
"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.
"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."
"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.
"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.
"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"
"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.
"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.
"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.
"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"
"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"
"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."
"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.
"Happy?"
"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.
Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.
The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.
"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."
Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady
Please follow @punkshort-notifs for fic updates
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller series#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#sheriff!joel#waitress reader#STR fic
616 notes
·
View notes
Text
my favorite free tools for writers
hello, hello! hope you're doing well.
today i am bringing you another list with my top 3 favorite (free!) tools that I find helpful for each phase of writing a novel.
brainstorming phase
Fantasy Names Generator - not only for fantasy (you can also generate real names). this website is just... amazing! it helps you come up with names for characters, places and locations, descriptions, generate traits, outfits (yes, outfits!!), and probably something else you could ever think of.
The Story's Hack - this one is so cool! you can generate names for everything, create your own generator, and practice writing through writing exercises! plus, you can save your generated names to see later, and you earn coins for each idea generated (you can later buy themes - dark, snow, forest, etc)
RanGen - my last favorite generator on this list is RanGen! you can generate plots, appearances, archetypes, love interests, cities, worlds, items, and more.
developing the idea phase
Bryn Donovan - in this blog you can find master lists under the tag "master lists for writers". it is so helpful when you first start developing the characters and need to find the right words to describe them and to find some quirks and flaws!
Writers Write (350 character traits) - again, this is so helpful!
Story Planner - ah, the number of times I've talked about this website... please, PLEASE take a look at it, you won't regret it. this website has literally everything you need to fully develop your idea with outlines for you to fill in step by step.
writing phase
Colleen Houck (80+ barriers to love) - need more romace conflict? there you go!
Cheat Sheets for Writing Body Language - so, you know how your character's feeling, but don't know how he'd physically act? check out this list!
Describing Words - honestly, this is a lifesaver. don't you struggle to find the right word to describe something? well, with this website all you have to do is to type the object you're trying to describe and see which description fits better to you!
revising phase
Language Tool for Google Docs - i know we all have heard about google docs before, but the truth is, it's almost impossible to find free softwares to check grammar and spelling. so, google docs is useful, because it automatically revises it for us, and it's completely free. plus, you can add adds-on, such as "language tool".
Unfortunately, there's only one (free) tool that I actually enjoy for the revising phase. if you know some others, please let me know so that I can try them out and feature in this list.
exporting phase
Google Docs - i find google docs very easy to format and export to .epub, so i'd recommend using it as a free tool.
Reedsy - this is also a free tool available online. all you have to do is to write down each chapter (copy and paste) or import your word document. it will format the document to your liking and export it to pdf, epub and mobi.
that's everything for now! i hope this post was somehow helpful or inspiring!
if you want to see more master lists full of resources, check these:
WEBSITES FOR WRITERS {masterpost}
BEST accounts to follow as a writer
BEST SITES & SOFTWARES TO WRITE FICTION
DIALOGUE IDEAS TO GET RID OF THAT WRITING BLOCK (masterpost)
Useful Resources & Tips for Writers
also, if you are a notion lover just like me, check the free template I just released with everything you need to develop and write your novel!
thank you so much for reading! hope to see you around, and have a nice day <3
#writing resources#writing#writeblr#writer tips#writing advice#writing help#writing tips#poetsandwriters#resources#research#wattpad#nanowrimo#creative writing#writerscommunity#writers#writing inspiration#writing prompts#writing reference#writerslife#writersofinstagram#software#inspiration#writing inspo#for writing#for writers#for whoever needs it#writing research#researching#we love an useful post#useful
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 8: you’re losing me, part 7: revenge dress, series masterlist
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: PART 8! taylor swift deserves jail time for creating you’re losing me. taylor swift also deserves jail time for not officially releasing it. def recommend listening to it reading the chapter! (might have to stream illegally bc mother is being stingy 🙄.)
INSTAGRAM, july 17 (midnight)
liked by paulwesley, ninadobrev, and 13,333,112 others
yourinstagram and just like that, the final chapter of Midnights, is out now. this is my most personal body of work that i'm putting out into the universe, and i'm so scared yet excited to share her with u. thank u to my team, my producer jackantonoff turned dearest friend of almost 7 years (woah!!!) we spent many noons & midnights on this album and i'm forever in debt n grateful. thank u to all my other friends who i didn't mention, yk who u are. to everyone else, thank u for your persistent patience and support. it does not go unnoticed. from my heart to yours, midnights (till dawn edition), is available on all streaming platforms. i love u. thank u 💗.
View all 101,273 comments
leclerccharl ain’t that the teddy bear charles won for her at the fair forever ago??!
y/nsfeverdreamhigh leclerccharl o em gee yeah..
fernandoalonso_offical Proud of you cariño
barbie 🥹🥹💗💗
landonoriss screaming crying shaking throwing up
danielricciardo gagging choking ascending to god
authur_leclerc Love you always, Proud of you always ❤️
INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 17
zendaya 30m
viewed by alexademie, tomholland2013, and 64,134 others
badgalriri 2h
viewed by harrystyles, bellahadid, and 3,262,128 others
sabrinacarpenter 5h
viewed by zendaya, lola.tung, and 1,524,211 others
TWITTER, july 17
The song’s big question: “Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?”
BY: ALLY PUBLISHED: JULY 17, 2023
Y/n L/n’s lyrical candidness is what has always made her standout as a songwriter. Whether she was writing about young love, relationships, or breakups, her songs never flinched from trying to paint a full picture, even if it was one that was hard to look at.
It’s been a while since the super star has released a breakup song, but it was only a matter of time; since the singer split with Charles Leclerc, fans have already began anticipating the inevitable breakup album. But it turns out they didn’t have to wait long. At Midnight (July 17), L/n released a second deluxe edition of her 2022 album Midnights, which included four new songs, among them the release of “You’re Losing Me,” a song fans have deciphered as ostensibly about her split with Leclerc.
via @yourinstagram on instagram
The nearly 5-minute track is a devastating relationship ender if we’ve ever heard one, as it details the hopeless and tragic dissolution of a relationship. Though L/n doesn’t include any names or details, it’s not hard to see why fans are interpreting it as being about her and Leclerc.
When Entertainment Weekly first broke the news of their split in April, sources for both parties diplomatically described the breakup as amicable, and that “it was not dramatic.” “The relationship had just run its course,” one source told ET. However, that story was debunked as L/n herself, stated Leclerc had an affair with Australian Youtuber Lola Ransdell, in one of her Eras Tour Shows. With the release of “You’re Losing Me,” L/n seems to offer a window into her perspective of how things ended while also releasing one of the most devastating songs she’s ever written.
Its lyrics don’t waste any time getting into the tragic heart of the matter. “You say, ‘I don't understand,’ and I say, ‘I know you don’t’/ We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won’t/ Remember looking at this room, we loved it ‘cause of the light/ Now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time,” she sings in the first verse, painting a portrait of two people who are unaligned and have seemingly grown apart in their relationship.
The pre-chorus lays out the song’s big question: “Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?” But waiting for resolution feels like something L/n doesn’t want to do anymore: “I'm getting tired, even for a phoenix/ Always rising from the ashes/ Mending all her gashes/ You might just have dealt the final blow,” she sings.
The most heart-wrenching part of the song comes in on the chorus, as she warns her other half, “Stop, you're losing me/ Stop, you’re losing me/ Stop, you’re losing me I can't find a pulse/ My heart won't start anymore/ For you/ ‘Cause you're losing me.” The lyrics mirror the song’s production which sounds like a quietly pulsing heartbeat, driving the knife’s blade of the song in even deeper.
Perhaps L/n’s biggest skill on this song is being able to convey all the heartbreak and roiling emotion without actually providing any specifics into the breakup.
“You’re Losing Me” is rife with frank, confessional lyrics, but still keeps many of the exact contours of the split obscure. There are no accusations or fingers pointed at who’s at fault. There are no mic drop moments or explosive gossip; The closest L/n gets to revealing any details is on the second verse, when she seems to suggest that the relationship hadn’t been OK for a while now.
“Every morning, I glared at you with storms in my eyes/ How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?/ I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick/ My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick,” she sings.
On the bridge, L/n reveals that she “wouldn’t marry me either,” perhaps offering the tiniest, sliver of hints into one of the other reasons why they ultimately fell apart: “And I wouldn't marry me either/ A pathological people pleaser/ Who only wanted you to see her/ And I'm fading, thinking/ Do something, babe, say something (say something)/ Lose something, babe, risk something (risk something)/ Choose something, babe, I got nothing (I got nothing)/ To believe, unless you’re choosing me.”
It’s the lack of details, the palpable restraint despite L/n’s clear heartbreak behind its lyrics, that makes “You’re Losing Me” perhaps the most devastating song in her catalog (yes, even more so than “All Too Well.”) Amid the grief and sadness of the song, there’s also a feeling of inevitability, of sorrow that nothing more could be done, of pointlessly waiting for action when you know nothing is coming.
In some regards, it’s one of L/n’s most mature breakup songs in her catalog, regardless of whoever it’s about. And if this is just a “from the vault” track, it makes one wonder what an albums-worth of these songs would sound like.
SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:
• Lola Ransdell Cancelled over resurfaced racism tweets
• Lola Ransdell loses brand deals over Y/n L/n drama
• Charles Leclerc finally breaks his silence over Y/n L/n Breakup
ally’s radio 📻:a filler chapter im sorry😞 but anyways, the related stories r a sneak peak of the next chapter🤫 if u asked me to tag u and i didn’t, pls send me a message or inbox me bc it might’ve gotten lost 😭 i try to stay up-to-date but sometimes i miss people so pls lmk!!!
taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx @lilsiz @ohthemisssery @leclerclvr @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @shessthunderstoms @cool-ultra-nerd @ncentic @playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj @chasing-liberosis @laneyspaulding19 @a-daydreamers-day @saikikusouswife @motorsp0rt @lifesuckslife @shessthunderstoms @drewsandsebastianswife @sainzluvrr @ietss
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charlesleclerc#carlos sainz jr#daniel riccardo x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#heartbreak on tour#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc imagine#scuderia ferrari#charles lecrelc#ferrari f1#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris#pierre gasly#pierre gasly x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz#charles leclerc social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 fanfic#f1
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
misfits (college!ateez x reader)
When your world comes crashing down, the only people who are able to comfort you are the notorious group, Ateez. You’ve heard rumour after rumour about the eight males who are ice cold, yet for some reason, they are the warmest people you know.
Please read me: {hello! so finally i have wrote enough for me to release the first chapter and i really hope it is good enough for the lovely people who have been patiently waiting. there will be more chapters to come in the future so please do look forward to them! just so you all know there is a few trigger warnings i have to go through so just in case you are uncomfortable with certain subjects to read with caution and with your own comfort in mind. at the start of every chapter i will put the warnings that correlate with the said chapter. in this story there are topics of swearing, depression, anxiety, ptsd, suicide, negelection and mental abuse. so if you are not comfortable reading these please either avoid this story or read with extreme caution. your wellbeing is more important than anything.
Now like i said in my previous post, this is going to be a poly!ateez story so hence there will be future smut and suggestive themes (which i will also put in the warnings before the chapter starts) but the message in the story is very much about past trauma and finding people who can help, heal and love you despite your imperfections.
With that all said! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of ‘Misfits’ and thank you kindly for waiting.
do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.
with thanks to @musicdork and @moraxology for the help and ideas shared with me. thank you <3
-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----
Misfits, Chapter 1
⇢ masterlist ⇠
⇢ next chapter
warnings: anxiety attack, swearing, mentions of a house fire.
word count: 8.8k
Heart dropping to your stomach, you attempt to make sense of the words that are displayed on the small illuminating screen sat in front of you. Devastation hits you like a ton of bricks as you realise once again, it feels like the world is trying to punish you. Reading over the email once again, you let out an exasperated groan and let your head fall down onto your arms relaxing on the table.
“You’re homeless?” Your best friend almost screeches, scanning over the email present on your small laptop screen.
“Okay a little louder Jisung and the aliens on the Saturn will fucking hear you,” You react, your voice muffled by your clothes.
“What happened? I thought your place was in one of the nicer areas?”
Looking up from the desk, you see Jisung peering at you with a concerned expression.
“Do you remember those new tenants that moved in below me?” you ask, causing Jisung to nod his head, "Well they accidentally started a fire, and it burnt down half of the place because the owners weren’t smart enough to install fire hydrants around the residence.
“Isn’t it illegal to not have designated fire hydrants in a building?”
“Probably, I mean that’s what I get for going for the cheapest available housing I could find, they say it's going to take at least a year to repair the damage.”
"Are all of your belongings okay?"
"Not really, I managed to save most things like my books and some clothes but everything else is burnt. They say they are going to give me some money back for the damage, but I doubt it’ll be much."
"Then where are you staying now?"
"Yeji said I could stay with her for a few days, but she has a roommate moving in soon, so I have to get out before the end of this week."
"You have to start looking for a place to live __, I wish I could help you,"
Jisung lives with his boyfriend and friends in great student accommodation, there are only four rooms, yet they manage to fit eight grown men in there. Sadly, there's simply not enough space for another person.
“I’m aware of that, but all the school properties are full, and I’ve seen no flyers from people searching for roommates. There’s no way I'm looking for housing outside of the area, I would have to sell both my kidneys to afford a month's worth of rent. This apartment was the only place that was in my budget if I didn't want a roommate. At this point, I should probably start looking for a nice cosy bridge to live under.”
Jisung lets out a stifled laugh before quickly covering his mouth realising the two of you are residing in a library. Being in a secluded area, noise isn’t really a problem, yet three other people are sitting near you, resting on the opposite side of the large wooden table. Two huddled next to each other, sharing a laptop, likely watching YouTube and one with striking blonde hair resting his head on his arms, undoubtedly sleeping.
“How many days until you have to move out?” Jisung inquires, laying his head on his hand and gazing at you.
“Uh, I think like a week,”
“Oh, so it’s not like you have to move out right now,” your best friend replies, a calm smile covering his features.
“Yeah, but I doubt that somebody is abruptly going to need a roommate out of nowhere,”
Then, you hear rustling, then suddenly the guy who was sleeping on your table abruptly stands up, grabs his things, and rushes out of the library.
“Probably had a nightmare or something,” Jisung chuckles, lighting up your mood.
“When’s your next lesson?” You ask, hoping he doesn't have to leave too soon.
Observing as Jisung whips out his phone and looks at the time, he lets out a sigh.
“Starts in seven minutes, it takes like five minutes to walk there. I better get going,” Jisung replies, grabbing his books and laptop.
“Must you leave so soon? You can’t leave me here to tutor for three hours straight.” You let out a fake cry and hang onto his arm, pleading for him to stay.
“You're the one who wanted the extra credit, don't blame me!”
Bickering for a minute more, you eventually let Jisung get to his class, the two others across the table departing as well, leaving you alone.
Grumbling to yourself, you wonder why you even offered to tutor people, the extra credit is little to nothing. Alas, it’s too late to back out now as you have two people arriving soon. Typically, you only take people who you know personally, but Jisung’s boyfriend, Minho, said two of his classmates requested him to ask you to tutor, telling him they really needed assistance in maths. You hope they are pleasant because you are not about to be spending the next three hours with two arseholes.
You also typically only take one person at a time but due to your current tight schedule, you decided to just do two at once. You need the time later to look for new places to live anyway. The unknown two needed teaching in the same subject at least, works out fine.
Returning to your laptop you start typing, trying to finish as much of your lab report as you can before they show up.
“No Yeosang said she was around this corner.”
A hushed voice breaks you out of your concentration, yet you pay no interest and hurriedly get back to typing.
“You’re __ right?” A monotone voice speaks out from your left.
You turn upon hearing your name and see a guy standing next to where you are sitting. Quickly you scan over his face, noticing the way his cheeks display small dimples as his face shifts and the slit in one of his eyebrows.
“I’m San, Minho told you about us, right?”
Noting the way he said ‘us’, you turn fully backwards and see a noticeably built man standing by San, his face holding little to no emotion as he stares blankly towards you. In your mind, you hope these aren’t the two you are tutoring, noticing how intimidating their presence is.
“We are here for tutoring lessons,” the unnamed person speaks, and you curse upon your luck.
“Oh right, you can take a seat where you’d like.”
You mentally cuss out Minho for not informing you about how intense and handsome his classmates were, you let out a scoff under your breath as you start to pull out your maths textbooks.
“So, what were your guy's names, I’m not too good with names so if I forget, please don't take it personally,” you shyly confess, hoping they are not going to take it the wrong way. You detect the way some sort of stunned expression goes across their faces, but it disappears as soon as it had appeared.
“I’m Choi San, good to meet you.” San nods in your direction, his emotions still unreadable, a subtle glare still present along his features.
“San, I see. You too,” You mumble, slightly scared by his strong character. You attempt a small smile and shake his hand, trying to ignore the way you feel his eyes boring into your skull. Moving your attention to the man sitting next to him, you smile gently, noticing the way his cheeks are dusted with a light pink colour.
“Choi Jongho,” He reaches out his hand and you gladly take it, feeling slightly less intimidated by the seemingly kinder man.
Replying with your own name, you realise they already knew it, making you curse yourself for the sheer awkwardness emitting from your body as you notice Jongho and San are neither looking at you.
Slightly glancing up at you, San notices your flustered state and a faint smile ghosts his face.
Shaking off your clumsiness rapidly, you start to focus on the task at hand.
“So, what are you two looking to go over today?” you ask, opening your notebook that was conveniently placed in front of you. What you don’t expect is Jongho and San immediately look at each other with wide eyes, almost as if they are taken aback by the question.
“You guys don’t know what you want to go over?”
“No, sorry, we have been having problems with our two recent algebra assignments.” Jongho replies, his tough exterior cracking ever so slightly as he ruffles his black hair.
“Okay then,” you answer, a little puzzled at the two's sudden and strange gestures, yet you pay no mind to it as you reach into your backpack to grab your mathematics textbook. You’ve seen much stranger things in this college anyway.
When you proceed with the session you are surprised by the two men sitting in front of you. Although being very intimidating, the two are very good listeners and attentive to everything you say or do. Writing notes and nodding at almost every word you say. After an extensive explanation, you let Jongho and San try to solve a practice question. During this time, you take the time to admire the two in front of you. You can see they are extremely close by the way their bodies face each other naturally, and the way they look at each other. Meanwhile, you can’t help but wonder why you haven't seen them on campus before. Certainly, you would've heard or seen something about these two very good-looking men, knowing how much the people here like to gossip. Well after all, you have never been one for gossip and fangirling over the popular campus heartthrobs. Brushing your thoughts to the side, you start to read over the same page for the fifth time.
After the second hour, it intrigues you how smart they are, only needing you to once go over something and they already have the answer or even occasionally you swear you see one of them write an answer without you describing how to find it. Perhaps they are fast learners? Due to the fact, they are so quick, it only takes two of the three hours for you to cover everything they wished to go over, and their assignments are almost finished, just needing the final touches.
"There we go,” you exclaim, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a content groan as you let your back straighten up, "if you need future help, you can always call me." Even though it’s perhaps pretentious to offer this to such tough guys, you’re happy to be able to have such good students who actually listen. Unlike your last session which you spent way too many hours on.
Jongho looks up from his laptop with a wide eye look, "that’d be helpful,"
"Can you take my number?" San holds his hand open, expecting your phone and you are shocked at his utter forwardness. Even though you know it’s not intended in a flirtatious way, your heart quickens at the gesture, never having been asked for your number before.
Passing your phone to the male in front of you, you notice San observing the Sanrio stickers stuck to the back of it. The male lets out a short burst of air through his nose, and you don’t know whether he’s mocking you or scoffing. As you look at him to analyse his reaction, you see a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t seem in a taunting way. You continue staring at him as he puts his number into your phone.
Unexpectedly he looks up and straight into your investigating eyes, catching you by surprise, immediately looking away from him and at the open book in front of you pretending to read it, even though you know he knows you have already read over the page multiple times in the past ten minutes.
“Wait, what time is it?" Jongho asks San. Watching San pull out his phone, you see a glimpse of his phone case, it looks something like a character, but you can’t see it as he places his phone face up on the table.
"Quarter to twelve," San responds, his phone screen lighting up for a split second, you manage to catch a quick sight of his lock screen. It appears to be a group photo, with numerous faces smiling brightly at the camera. So, they have more friends.
"We have about thirty minutes till ecology, do you want to go to the canteen?" Jongho questions as he begins to put his belongings into his bag.
"I could use a snack,” San answers, stretching back into the chair, his arms above his head just as you did earlier.
"Coming with us?" Jongho asks as he stands up from his chair and pushes it back beneath the table.
Bewildered by the question, you wonder as to why they want you to come when they have been nothing but distant this entire time. Glancing back at your unfinished lab report displayed on your laptop, you feel conflicted. Yet a break from the tedious work would be rather nice. There's no harm in pulling another all-nighter.
"I could also do with something to eat," Your smile is bright as you stuff your laptop into your bag, happy to have a reason to escape the tedious work on the small screen of your laptop.
It is a rather fast walk to the canteen; it is conveniently on the same wing as the library. Expecting the canteen to be full to the brim of students getting lunch, you’re surprised to see the canteen completely empty. You are rather pleased with the serenity of the canteen, feeling at ease that there are no judging eyes watching your every move. Pacing over to the cooled section of food, your footsteps echo in the large room, then you notice San and Jongho trailing after you, looking quite lost.
"Have you guys never been to the canteen before or something?" You inquire, chuckling at their antics before grabbing a carton of banana milk and an apple.
"It's not particularly our scene, we eat our meals at our place." San answers, staring down at the banana milk in your hand. So, they live together, it makes sense seeing how close they are.
“You guys don't live in student buildings?” You question, that does explain why you've never seen them around, knowing most people who reside in the student dorms. You resume walking towards a table to sit, you grab two more banana milk before sitting down and popping a straw into your drink.
"No, we live near the new park, Eastwood Drive," Jongho replies.
This information almost makes you spit out your drink. Eastwood is not only part of a huge real estate area but one of the richest areas near our school. Absolutely no students would be able to afford that. It's an area full of houses like mansions or condos bigger than a regular house.
"Are you okay?" Jongho asks, hurriedly rushing to your side and patting your back, San chuckles at the scene and passes you a bottle of water from his seat.
"Yes, I'm fine," You say between coughs, "thank you," you take a gulp of water from the bottle before handing it back to him.
"Sorry it's just, how on earth do you afford that house there's no way you guys just have it. Did you have to sell your soul to the devil or something?"
Both males let out soft laughs and for the first time you see something other than scowls on their faces, instead replaced by gentle amusement.
"No, we didn't, one of our roommates' mothers is the owner of the real estate and she lets us live there," San answers your question.
"We do still have to pay rent, which is above average, but it's not anything like the rent we would have to pay if we were actually living there," Jongho adds, "plus we have quite a few roommates, so it's spread out pretty evenly." So, they have multiple roommates.
"I see," you hum as you let the information in. Of course, they have several roommates, the house is big enough for ten people, most likely.
"And you?" Jongho questions looking at you. His expression is back to his resting face, until he realises his question, eyes going wide he continues, “not in a creepy, I'm sorry please don't take it the wrong way!" he rambles on.
Laughing out, you wave your hands in a friendly way to dismiss his thoughts.
"No no, it's okay," you chuckle, not really sure how to explain to them that your house was recently made into a fresh stock of charcoal.
“It's kind of complicated I'll be honest," you start, San and Jongho’s expressions twitch in curiosity, "Well I was living at Coast Lane,"
"Oh, the one near the shopping centre?" Jongho inquires. You nod your head back in confirmation.
"Wait but wasn't that place burnt down a few days ago?" San asks, looking at Jongho and then back at you with a worried look. Their hearts fill with worry for you.
"Yep," you say, popping the p at the end, "that's why I said I was living," you say looking down, chucking dryly.
"Where are you living now then?" San asks, his voice laced with something similar to worry.
"I'm staying at a friend's house, but they are getting a new roommate at the end of this week, so I need to move out by then."
"Have you found anywhere to live yet?" Jongho questions, looking sorrowful. You are surprised by the amount of worry you suddenly feel from San and Jongho. However, you shake your head as 'no' and proceed to take another sip of your drink.
"I have an idea." San abruptly says standing up from his chair, catching your and Jongho's attention, "Excuse me I have to talk to someone, Jongho. Joong."
Jongho's eyes light up with some sort of awareness and he also rapidly stands from his chair, leaving you even more confused, unsure where the sudden energy comes from, you also wonder who the fuck 'Joong' is and why do they need to see him so suddenly.
"See you soon, __.” Jongho’s smile is warm and contagious, he then turns to leave with the taller man.
"Wait, guys!” You exclaim, "here," you hand them both a cartoon of banana milk that you grabbed earlier. "Drink these, you can't focus if you're dehydrated, " you say, heat rising up from your chest.
Both of the men look at you shocked at the kind gesture, surprised someone actually cares about their well-being. Giving you a thank you, the two men leave with red subtly covering their cheeks, both trying to immediately force it away before someone sees them with a giddy expression.
----
"Then they just stood up and left," You replay the events from earlier today to Jisung, who is sipping on a mojito. After the busy day you both shared, Jisung and you decided to go to a bar that recently opened not too far from campus. It is small and cosy, not too full of people, mostly students from your school rewinding from the day, just like you.
"Psycho behaviour," Jisung jokes whilst you take a sip of your drink. Laughing, you push Jisung's arm gently.
"I don't know, they were certainly intimidating but I could tell they were okay people," you exclaim truthfully. If you said that the three hours you spent with the two weren't pleasant you’d be lying.
"Do you have a crush on them or something?" Jisung inquires, rather loudly, getting far too excited. Hoping that no one heard him through the low jazz music resounding in the small bar, you quieten down your best friend quickly by covering his mouth with your free hand.
"Ji the entire bar does not need to know about my personal endeavours, and no I do not have a crush on them, they are just simply cute," you say exasperated.
“So, you do find them cute! The last time you had a crush as back in high school, this is big news,”
“There is no news dumbass, they are just cute. I find kittens cute, and I don’t want to date them.”
Jisung’s face contorts into a mixture of disgust and humour.
"Wait, what are their names?" Jisung questions his voice back to a reasonable volume.
"Choi San and Choi Jongho, I've never even heard of them, to be honest. You'd think I would've seen these handsome men bef, what is with that look on your face?" you stop your ramble as you see the very obviously shocked look on Jisung's face.
"Are you fucking serious?" Jisung says slowly.
Confused, you simply answer, "yeah they needed help with maths. it was your boyfriend who set the tutor session up."
"Yeah, because they probably threatened him?" Jisung says tensing up.
"What do you mean threatened, they were huge sweethearts," you say amused at Jisung. Your laughing momentarily halts when you see the serious look on Jisung's small face.
"What is it?"
"___, Choi San and Choi Jongho are part of that group."
Your baffled expression remains on your features, clearly unfazed by this information.
"What is that like a cult or something?" you joke.
"Girl, are you living under a fucking rock? Ateez, the group called Ateez. The super scary ones practically haunt this school. I'm surprised they talked to Minho. I'm pretty sure he's going to be scarred now."
Slowly but surely, your brain starts to put things into place.
"Wait, that group Sola told us about?”
As Jisung confirms your question, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. A few months ago, you had been told by some classmates about them briefly, they were talking rather loudly about them. Apparently, they had done some terrible things when they were in high school then just disappeared for a few years. Most people thought they dropped out or moved abroad. The year they returned, they started this university out of nowhere together and have been a notorious group ever since, being known for staying foul and bitter towards everyone except themselves. Yet, nobody seems to know the reason for their ice-cold hearts. You never really bothered to keep up with the rumours or gossip, it wasn’t necessary for you to know, however you start to think maybe you should pay more attention due to your recent interaction with two of the people in the group.
"But they were nice?" your question, more to yourself than to Jisung.
"I don't know about you, but you probably got the wrong people."
You don't believe Jisung is lying but at the same time… The two men you had tutored earlier today were definitely not members of the notorious group.
Surely not.
Yes, they were intimidating, but nowhere near as bad as anything people say about them. From what you've heard about the group, they are cold, heartless, selfish, and miserable. Staying only in the group of eight, others not even daring to look them in the eyes as they pass them.
"If they were the people that you were tutoring yesterday, you may have gotten yourself into something you can't get out of. They have hundreds of fangirls, who are very possessive over them and people who want them dead. I don’t know of a single person who is fond of them. It’s best if you stay far away from them." Jisung says with a nervous expression.
Unexpectedly, his phone lights up and you see Minho's caller ID appear. Jisung glances back up at you with a questioning look, requesting if he can take it.
"Go ahead," you push your smile and watch as he leaves to find a quiet place.
Your heart beats heavily against your chest and you feel your throat tighten. ‘Come on’ you think, this isn't the best place for you to have an anxiety attack. Possibly, it's that the new information is far too overwhelming. You are barely keeping up with your classes, your apartment just burnt down, and now you’re somewhat engaged with an apparently dangerous group that has no good stories. Feeling your breathing getting jagged and your heart getting heavier by the second, you attempt to focus on your breathing. Trying to remember the breathing exercises your mother taught you when you were younger, you attempt breathing in deeply, but it doesn't work, leaving you to breathe in and out in a fast manner. It's okay, it's okay. You repeat yourself, in an attempt to comfort yourself, but your brain is yelling 'it's not okay, look how stupid you've been and got yourself into a senseless situation again. Fucking idiot'. You put your head in your hands and start gently rocking on the barstool, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. Unexpectedly, a presence appears next to you and before you know it, their warm hand is rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner.
"Shh it's okay, it's all going to be okay." a deep voice speaks from your right. You don't care to look up, only basking in the way the figure's hand caresses your back in a comforting way. To your surprise, it works miracles. Your breathing is back to a reasonable state within the next minute. Only then do you look up from your hands, your eyes lock with a beautiful man. He wears a comforting smile, his eyes full of sympathy and something else you can't quite put your finger on, his hand not slowing on your back. Trying to smile back at him, you wipe the tears you didn't even know had fallen, with the sleeves of your sweatshirt before regaining the words to speak.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," you say, abruptly embarrassed that a very handsome man just had to see a small breakdown of yours.
"It's perfectly okay. I've had enough anxiety attacks to know you can't control where you have them." the man admits, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile on his face. The voice of the man is deep, yet soft, making you feel awfully relaxed.
"You have anxiety?" you ask, sniffling your nose.
The man chuckles and looks down at his hands, "longer than I can remember, yeah," he looks back up at you, "rubbing my back is how my friends comfort me, so I hope it somewhat worked for you too."
"It worked amazingly, it's actually how my mother used to comfort me," you express, still slightly ashamed to be sharing this information with a stranger, let alone such a good-looking one. Yet knowing he goes through the same things as you, comforts you more than you realise. The male looks around him, almost as if he’s worried someone will see him, he then looks back down to your smaller figure which is closer to him than he remembered. Clearing his throat, he steps away a little bit, concerned you would feel uncomfortable with the closeness of your bodies.
“I do need to go now, but it was nice to meet you," The man says whilst leaving the barstool to your right. Not sure why, but you feel sad that he has to leave so soon. Feeling so relaxed around a stranger has you shocked, wishing you could stay with this unknown feeling.
"Thank you," you say, grateful to have him there for you.
"Anytime.”
"I’ll see you around." You return his smile.
Nodding his head, he gives one last smile before departing the bar's exit, a growing smile adorning his features as he exits the bar.
“Hey I’m back.”
Whipping your head to the left, you see Jisung sitting back in his stool. Opening your mouth to tell him about what just happened, you attempt to get the words out but for some reason, you are unable to find the words. Not wanting to worry your best friend with your sudden onset anxiety attack, you decide to stay quiet.
What are these unexplainable encounters you've been having with handsome men recently?
----
Climbing over bags and coats, you find a seat in a calmer area of the stadium you just arrived at. Spotting Minho in the field doing some warm-ups with his team, you feel relaxed to see someone you know. When he sees you, he waves happily. Smiling, you reach for your phone to quickly text Jisung asking where he is. All of a sudden, a rush of cold air gets swept in by the wind, causing you to freeze up. Never liking the cold, you debate heavily at this moment whether you should just leave. However, you travelled all the way from Yeji’s to here in the cold. It seems like a waste to just go back, even if it freezes you to death to stay. After all, you need to support Minho, him being one of your only friends, for the football game. Jisung is supposed to be joining you but you’re sure he's busy picking out a cute outfit to swoon Minho.
Over the past few days Jisung has been trying to teach you the names of Ateez so you know to run if they approach you. Seemingly stupid, but you do need fewer distractions in the hope to graduate with honours. From what Jisung has told you, there are eight members, and they are all of similar age, the youngest being in the same classes as he managed to skip a year due to him exceeding the level of people his age. However, Jisung teaching you their names doesn’t really stick to you, never being good at names it doesn’t help that you don’t know what they look like. It would be much easier learning their names if you actually had photos so you can put a name to a face, but of course they don’t have Instagram accounts, and if they saw people taking photos of them, they’d likely murder you on the spot. Or that’s what Jisung says.
You are suddenly brought out of your thoughts when a voice sounds in your ears.
“Could I sit here?” a soft, yet deep captivating voice speaks out.
Curiously, you look to your left to see who the owner of the voice is. Surprisingly, you see a blonde male with a mask covering his face. He is standing next to the seat where you have placed your bag, and you realise he is asking for the seat.
“Oh yes, of course, sorry,” you hurriedly grab your bag and place it between your legs, allowing the male to take a place next to you.
“Thank you,” he says, a very small smile on his lips. When he sits down, he takes off his mask, and you glance at him one more time, taking in his visuals. With his fluffy hair and red tinted cheeks and a small mark of pink next to one of his eyes, he is truly a work of art. Yet, for some reason, you can't help but feel like you've seen him before.
“I'm sorry have I met you before, you seem really familiar?” you ask inquisitively, not being able to match a name to a face.
“We may have run into each other once or twice,” the blonde male puts his hand out for a handshake.
Gladly taking his hand in yours, you shake with a small smile on your face.
“It is a small world, I'm __.”
The male takes his hand away and back into his coat pocket, shivering in the icy air.
“Are you Jisung's girlfriend?” he questions.
Rolling your eyes, slightly annoyed at the question, you go to answer. It has been thousands of times that people have asked about your and Jisung's relationship, mistaking you for a couple and not just a couple of friends. After a while it gets rather irritating, the question being asked countless amounts of times.
"No, we aren't, we are just best friends, I'm pretty sure Jisung came out as gay like two years ago. Plus, he's literally dating the quarterback, Lee Minho." you chuckle slightly.
"Oh sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in any way."
"No! It's really okay, it's just I get asked a lot, so it becomes annoying after a while. I mean look at Jisung, he has baby girl written all over him."
“Cold?” he questions.
The blondie next to you lets out a small chuckle acknowledging the man you are always with isn’t your boyfriend.
Sensing a gaze on you, you turn back to the blonde male whose eyes are looking at the goosebumps on your exposed arms.
“I probably should’ve brought at least a jumper. I've been so wrapped up with exams and tutoring I’ve been forgetting everything,” you say, laughing slightly, embarrassed that you went outside wearing just a t-shirt in the middle of November.
The male lets out a laugh before speaking, “it’s okay, I understand. If I’m being honest, I've also been having so much struggle with studying, my stress is all over the place.” He wonders for a second why he even shared this with you, concerned for a second you will see him in a bad light.
“I'm sorry to hear that.” you contemplate for a moment, “Look I have these if you want,” reaching into your pocket, you grab some rescue drops. “These help me a lot,”
You place the small bottle in his hand, and a giant smile covers his face. “What? I’ve actually been looking for these everywhere and I can never find them! They’ve been sold out in every shop.” Blondie looks back up at you, “but you have anxiety you need these more than me,”
Pausing for a second, you wonder how he knows you have anxiety, nonetheless, you continue “It’s perfectly fine, Jisung’s parents work at a pharmacy back in my hometown and they send me a few of these whenever they are in stock, you can keep them.” you inform him, his smile brightening your cold mood shockingly fast. You’re not even sure why you gave him them, it was your last bottle. You guess that’s what happens when you are a people pleaser. The smile on the male’s face only grows wider, his heart jumping at your kind action.
“Thank you so much __,”
“It’s no worries, if you ever need some more, look for the loud group of small guys acting like four-year-olds.” you laugh, and he chuckles along with you, making a mental note, even though he knows he will likely never approach the group.
Before you can focus back on the starting game, you feel a soft material cover your shivering body. It is a large zip-up that smells of rich, sweet perfume. Turning quickly to the blonde guy with confusion covering your features, you hurriedly dismiss the action, seeing his arms exposed to the winter air.
“I can’t take this; you’ll get too cold.” you stop your words as he pulls out another sweater from his bag.
“I've got my friend’s sweater, you keep mine until you’re warm.” he turns to face the game, "or until Jisung sees and freaks out and tells everyone you have a secret boyfriend." he jokes.
“You seem to know Jisung?” you ask, wondering how he knows Jisung’s personality quite well.
“Well, we know each other, but we aren’t particularly friends,” blondie turns fully towards you, “are you sure you don’t know me at all?”
“I'm sorry but I really only have like two friends, I don't really go out.”
“But Jisung is super popular, aren't you in his huge partying friend group?”
“Not really, his friends are lovely but I’m only close with him and his boyfriend, I'm not too good at making friends.” you quietly mumble the last part. You look over at the blondie and see he has slight confusion on his face.
“You are so kind, I’m sure anyone would want to be your friend."
"You’d be the first to think that" you dryly admit, which causes the male to feel a twinge of pain and guilt in his heart, "I would rather stay inside all-day binge-watching television whilst eating away my stress,"
"Well, that’s one thing we have in common."
Sharing a warm smile with him, you start to get lost in your thoughts again, but then you realise a question you never returned.
“I’m so sorry I never got your name.”
“No worries, I’m Yeosang.” he has the same smile on his face, making you feel warm despite the bitter winter air. Then his familiarity dawns on you.
“Kang?” you inquire, your voice rising ever so slightly.
“That’s me,” he smiles at me, and you don't know if your heart rises because of how beautiful his smile is or because you recognise the name from Jisung’s teaching session with the members of Ateez.
“Like from Ateez,” you question, watching your words, if Ateez is as bad as Jisung is saying then you definitely need to watch your words.
Yeosang turns to you, almost looking baffled.
“I thought you didn't know about Ateez?” he questions, shocked.
“What made you think that?”
“Just a guess I suppose, being that you don't really go out I assumed you weren’t really interested in the groups and stuff.”
“Ah well not particularly, but recently I suppose I’ve gotten to know about it better.”
“You're not scared, are you?” you see Yeosang tense up a little, his eyebrows furrowed. He hopes for the best, not knowing how you will react. Surprisingly, your heart softens at this question, he seems upset for some reason, as if he doesn't want to be seen this way. You feel bad for ever acting stressed towards him.
“Don't worry, the only person that scares me is Jisung when he's hungry.” you joke out, relaxing the tension and calming him. From what you can see, Yeosang is just kind and calm. The only thing that's menacing about him is the fact he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
Yeosang lets out a small chuckle, “well I guess now I know I need to avoid Jisung if he’s hungry,”
You agree with the blonde man, whilst lightly laughing.
“Wait, but why are you watching? Aren’t you supposed to be on the pitch?” You ask him, confused, remembering Jisung informing you that Yeosang is a part of one of the school's football teams, along with someone else whose name you can’t remember at the moment. For a moment Yeosang’s chest fills with pride, knowing you know something about him.
“Someone is taking my spot today, I was told to analyse the opposing team to find out their habits and stuff, hence the notepad.”
Looking down, you notice the small notepad with doodles all over the cover, making your heart swell. Yeosang continues to talk,
“Don’t tell my tactics to Minho,” he jokes with a grin on his face, knowing Minho is on the other team.
“I would never betray you like that,” you place your hand over your chest acting offended.
Both cracking up, you speak up again, “don't worry, your secrets are safe with me.”
“Sang!” You hear a voice call from the left, and your eyes lay on another attractive man, “Coach told us to sit with him,” this male also has a notepad in his grip.
You know this guy. He works in a small café not too far from campus, it is down a narrow alleyway, covered by vines and moss. It was a very hidden spot and only locals really knew the place. Only knowing it because you walked past it every day for a year as the alleyway was a shortcut to your housing from the campus. Barely anyone goes there, the regulars being either old women or businesspeople quickly rushing in to get a coffee before work starts. Back at the beginning of the semester, you used to go to the café a lot because of the raspberry muffins, yet they stopped selling them thus forth you stopped going as much. It was also due to the fact you had barely any time to sleep, so you cut it out of your morning schedule to be able to sleep in a little. You think the guy’s name was Wooyoung if you can remember his name tag correctly. You notice he sees you sitting next to Yeosang, with his friend’s hoodie over your shoulders and a smile consumes his entire face.
“Muffin?” he looks confused, yet somewhat glad to see you once again. The nickname extremely takes you aback. “Why did you stop coming to the café?”
As far as you can recall, back when you visited the café, this server was rather distant and limited to saying little to no words whilst waiting. Seeing him like this confuses you severely. Alas, you let out a giggle and both of the boys' grins widen visibly.
“You two better get going, I'm not sure your coach wants to wait any longer.”
Yeosang stands up and straightens out his pants before turning to you,
“Hopefully I’ll see you around.” he smiles warmly. Smiling back at him, you nod. Yeosang starts to leave with Wooyoung before he turns around.
“I better see you at the café tomorrow! Plus, that sweater looks good on you, Muffin.” he winks and Yeosang slaps the back of his head. You can’t help but giggle yet feel flustered.
Yeosang and Wooyoung walk towards the coach’s section, Yeosang slightly more affected than the male next to him. Hopefully he will get his hoodie back, and hopefully it will smell like you. After this interaction, your mind was even more confused. If you remember correctly, Yeosang and Wooyoung have a very big reputation for being some of the rudest and coldest towards people. Yet they were so friendly when you were with them. Is everything all these people are saying about them true or maybe the group of eight is just deeply misunderstood?
Whatever it is, you need to talk to Jisung about this, but you will wait until the game is over.
----
The night of the interaction between Yeosang and Wooyoung, Jisung, Minho and you reside at their apartment, eating chicken and watching a shitty romcom for background noise. The rest of his roommates are out celebrating the start of the football season. You have no idea why it started mid-way through November but okay.
“I said I would come; they were too sweet to say no to!” You exclaim, throwing your head back against the couch, regretting saying yes.
“It was definitely Yeosang and Wooyoung?” Minho questions, not believing any part of my story.
“Yes! Yeosang has the birthmark next to his eye like Ji described and Wooyoung was the guy who works at that one café I used to go to all the time,”
“Well, I never knew Wooyoung worked at a café, that doesn't really match the hardcore scary image they are going for, are you sure you’re not going delusional?” Jisung admits, chuckling.
“What are you going to do?” Minho questions, passing you a drumstick.
You take a big bite, before speaking, “I should just go, if I don't show up, they might murder me as you two say. Which is very unbelievable seeing how fucking cheerful they’ve all been.”
“Well, you’ve only met four, the rest are probably a nightmare,” Jisung says, his mouth full of chicken, Minho humming in agreement next to him.
“You two are supposed to be comforting me.” you groan, throwing your head into your hands.
“Okay, don't worry __, if they have been as nice as you’ve been saying then just show up and if they aren't nice then call Chan and Changbin and I’m sure they will gladly sort them out for you.” Minho laughs.
----
Keeping your promise, you showed up at the café the next day.
Opening the painted door, the bell rings notifying your entrance. Immediately you spot Wooyoung relaxing against the counter, scrolling through his phone, visibly bored. There are only a few people in the café, mostly reading books or typing on laptops. You see a flash of pink hair in the corner, yet you lose focus as quickly as you had it as you continue to walk further in.
“Welcome to Veranda Café,” Wooyoung says unbothered, still staring at his phone as you walk closer to where all the cakes were on display. Much to your dismay, you fail to see a raspberry muffin on display.
“I see you still don’t have any raspberry muffins.” You speak out in front of where Wooyoung is standing, making his head immediately snap up.
“__! I was starting to worry you weren't going to show up.” He exclaims, a contagious smile wide on his face. Immediately putting his phone in his pocket, giving his attention to you. He leans on the counter. Extremely happy you showed up.
“I never break my promises,” you grin at the black-haired man.
“Oh, one moment.” He speaks out excitedly, like a puppy, and turns to where he was sitting. Opening up a small fridge, he brings out the biggest, most beautiful raspberry muffin you have ever seen.
“Yeosang and I made this morning for you.” he gestures over to the corner, and you see the blonde male from yesterday, he is sitting next to someone, yet you can’t see them from where you’re standing. Yeosang shyly waves and you smile and wave back. Heart beating faster and cheeks warming up, you take the muffin happily. Wooyoung smiles brightly at you, feeling prideful at the way your eyes light up from the muffin.
“We stopped making these muffins because the owner didn’t think anyone was buying them, it made me upset because I knew you liked them,” Wooyoung says, making direct eye contact with you, making you weak at the knees. Wondering how he even remembered you, you still feel thankful he thought of you, even if it was a long time ago.
“It’s a shame but I'm sure there are lots of other tasty things here too. Anyways, thank you so much, you guys are the best.” you say, sincerity dripping in your words. Wooyoung just shrugs like he doesn't care, but the big smile on his face and the redness dusting his ears tells a different story.
“How much do I owe you?” you ask, getting out your purse.
Swiftly, Wooyoung grabs your hand halting its actions, “it’s on us, for being so kind, Yeosang and one of our friends really needed those rescue drops.” He lowers his voice, “between us, their anxiety has been really bad recently, and the stuff works wonders. Plus, you were always my favourite customer anyways.” Wooyoung admits, smiling, his cheeks get a deeper colour of red. Your heart warms up once again, which is strange to you. You haven't felt this happiness in a very long time. Maybe things are starting to get better. Happily taking the muffin, you make your way to Yeosang who is reading a book.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” you inquire, repeating his words from yesterday, yet when your eyes meet the figure sitting next to him, they light up as you recognise him.
“I know you!” You exclaim, a little too loudly, causing people around you to glare in your direction. Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden attention, you quickly sit down in a shielded area, away from all the glares.
“You two know each other?” Yeosang asks, intrigued by your sudden remark.
“It is you, right?” you ask just in case you’re mistaking him for another pink-haired male.
The tall male smiles widely, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m Mingi,” he turns to Yeosang, who is visibly confused, “we met briefly in a bar the other day,”
Yeosang lets out an ‘ah’ in realisation, yet you fail to see the jealous look he points at the pink haired man as he turns back to his book. Reaching for a dessert fork placed in the middle of the table, Mingi quickly grabs it and hands it to you. Quietly thanking him, you start to cut your muffin into four pieces. You acknowledge a gaze on you, so you halt your movements and look up, noticing Yeosang and Mingi’s eyes on you. Suddenly feeling awfully small, you start to feel your heartbeat rise and your breath deepen, never really liking people watching you eat, the stares from the two make you anxious. Luckily, they seem to immediately notice your change in behaviour and start apologising.
“I’m sorry, we will look away. We were just wondering whether you were going to like the muffin,” Mingi explains, his voice stumbling over words.
“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I’ve always been kind of awkward when people watch me eat.” you confess, your cheeks heating up. The two males nod trying to remember this information for the future. Instantly, the two men completely look away and focus on their own things, not paying any attention to you. Their antics make you giggle slightly, and you look back down at your muffin. Slowly, you pick up a quarter and place it on Mingi’s empty plate in front of him. You then do the same for Yeosang. They both look up at you with wide eyes.
“This is your favourite, we can't take it,” Yeosang says hurriedly, trying to put the cake back on your plate.
“Stop, stop! I want to. I want to share it with my friends!” You blurt out before you can control your mouth. The wide eyes on both Yeosang and Mingi, make you realise what you said. You have to remember that even though they seem normal they are very clearly part of a group who apparently can kill people with their stare. What the hell are you doing? Of course, they aren’t your friends, you met them both once for less than ten minutes.
“Wait, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that I didn't intend to push your boundaries, we have only met like twice I didn't just assume we are friends!” You start to ramble, scared they will take it the wrong way, trying to fix your words as quickly as possible so you don’t get on their bad sides.
Before you can say anything more, Yeosang cuts you off by taking a bite of the muffin, “it tastes amazing! Thank you,”
“Woo!” Mingi’s voice calls out, ignoring the angry glares of people around him, “come get some cake!” Watching Wooyoung jump over the counter towards the three of you, you smile to yourself, glad you haven't done something that would cause future problems. Yeosang feeds Wooyoung the cake and makes an over-exaggerated reaction, “the flavours are melting on my tongue!” he exclaims in a funny voice, making Yeosang and Mingi cringe but you just laugh at his amusing antics. You can’t help but imagine how the whole group is when they are together.
For the remainder of the hour, you are just conversing with Wooyoung and Mingi, sometimes Yeosang if he wants to add to the conversation, but more focusing on his book, yet looking up intently whenever you speak. You are broken out of your conversation as you hear the bell of the entrance ring, notifying the entrance of new customers. Wooyoung groans and stands up from his chair next to you. It seems to be three girls from our school. You recognise one of them from your calculus class.
Then the next thing that happens confuses you more than any other thing that has happened. As Wooyoung reaches the counter to take their order, his demeanour changes almost immediately, you would've missed it if you had blinked.
Mingi and Yeosang seem to notice your confusion but blatantly ignore it, their smiles quickly disappearing from their faces. The atmosphere turns from warm and friendly to cold and foreign.
“What do you want?” Wooyoung asks bluntly. You furrow your eyebrows, confused out of your mind as to where the sweet friendly Wooyoung disappeared to.
“You know you should be nicer to your customers, it would help with business,” one of the girls speaks out, looking smug as if she has immensely hurt the man’s feelings.
“You should probably focus on your studies rather than going to cafes, sitting with a random document open and pretending to study when we all know you are miserably failing all your classes.” Wooyoung says monotone, whilst scrolling through his phone, not even looking at the three girls who now have shocked and offended looks on their faces. Some curses are thrown before the girls end up storming out of the café without even beginning to look at the menu. As soon as the girls leave, Wooyoung returns to the table nonchalantly, acting as if nothing had happened. Opening your mouth to say something, it gets caught in your throat before you get the words out.
Are you going insane?
{feedback is always appreciated and i love hearing from all of you. remember you are loved.}
part two is out now!!!
#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez smut#poly ateez#ateez poly#hongjoong#hongjoong smut#seonghwa#seonghwa smut#yunho#yunho smut#yeosang#yeosang smut#san#san smut#mingi#mingi smut#ateez fluff#wooyoung#wooyoung smut#jongho#jongho smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing : Bangchan x F!Reader ft. Hongjoong
TW : angst ; childbirth ; reader has to have a c-section ; very traumatic labor experience ; Chan turning point moment ; fluffy at the end ;
Word Count : 4.9k
Request : I'm sure that in my 98 requests there are some regarding this so I'm gonna say yes, it is a request
A/N : Back on that good shit, HELLO!!!
It had been four months since you left, riding off into the sunset with Hongjoong, at least that’s the way that Chan looked at it. In reality, you sat in the passenger seat crying your eyes out in the parking lot of the McDonalds while Hongjoong worked tirelessly to console you to no avail.
Four months since the last time you had even heard from Chan, too busy with work still to even realize what he had lost… At least that’s the way you looked at it. Back at home, he couldn’t even get his brain to focus on anything but you, the words you had said before he had pushed you away. Work always came first in his life, it had always been that way, but you had needed his attention too, more then than ever before. He had screwed up, and now he was too scared, too ashamed to even try to get in touch with you. The fear that you had finally moved on to someone who would treat you and the baby better, it ate away at him like a parasite and it was killing him to not know how you were doing, but he felt that he deserved it.
Even Hongjoong, who felt that his acts of kindness were purely innocent, was filled with a sense of guilt, feeling like he was the reason for what was going on right now. No matter how much you told him that he wasn’t to blame, that you would never blame him for it, he couldn’t let himself get rid of the shame. It turned into you consoling him for the better part of two months, and when it seemed like he was finally getting better and coming to terms with that fact that this wasn’t his fault, he would run into Chan somewhere and those feelings would come rushing back full force.
All in all, the last four months have been absolute hell for everyone involved, but no one really talked to one another anymore, so that only worsened the feelings that everyone had. You were lonely, trying to get through the remainder of your pregnancy without thinking too hard about the fact that you’d be a single mother basically, that the father of the little girl that you were carrying had angrily kicked you out and wouldn’t even call to check up on you. Chan was depressed, not knowing anything that was going on with his daughter, not even knowing if you had delivered the baby yet, not knowing how you were doing, and being away from the love of his life and the mother of his child was essentially destroying him. Even those that weren’t directly involved in what was going on, they were being affected too. Members of both groups had to deal with the negative moods of both men and no one knew what to do.
It seemed like the four months would never end, each passing day felt more like deja vu, waking up and reliving those moments over and over again, wondering what could have been done differently, what could have been said to try to change the outcome. It was a never ending nightmare it felt, but no one could have guessed how bad the nightmare would get.
You flipped the page on the calendar, the small box that read “due date” with little pink balloons surrounding it was fastly approaching now. For the first time, it felt like a new day, like you could finally breathe even though your daughter felt like she was kicking at your lungs constantly, you could take a deep breath. You were beginning to feel like maybe, just maybe, with the birth of your daughter, you’d be able to leave the door to your past behind you and start a new journey in life, a new chapter.
“How are you feeling today?” Hongjoong asked, meeting you in the kitchen with the world's best/worst case of bedhead. You felt awful that he had demoted himself to sleeping on the living room couch just so you could comfortably sleep in his bed, but he had insisted, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Is she ready to come out yet?” He smiled tiredly at your stomach which felt like it was about to burst any minute now, but your daughter had no plan on leaving yet.
“I’m feeling good… It’s a good day today.” You murmured, giving him a genuine smile, something that you hadn’t done in a while. The sight of it had Hongjoongs eyes lighting up, and you were hoping that maybe he was feeling the same way. “She definitely isn’t ready though. I think she’s actually comfortable being all cramped up in here.” You joked, running your hand over your stomach, and you felt your daughter move beneath your skin, just slightly, but enough for it to feel like she was agreeing with you.
“What if you’re overdue? What if she never leaves?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes at the questions. There was no way in hell that you’d let that happen. As much as you loved being pregnant with your daughter, your back and your legs were killing you, your stomach was covered in stretch marks that only seemed to be getting bigger and darker every single day, and you’d love to be able to go at least an hour and a half without having to run to the bathroom.
“Don’t jinx me.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair before turning to the fridge and grabbing a drink. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I cannot wait to get my period again.” As if on queue, and maybe even being slightly insulted by your words, your daughter kicked quite hard, hard enough that it had you choking on and coughing out the water that you had just taken a sip of.
“She mad at you.” Hongjoong continued to tease all while rubbing your back and intermittently asking you if you were okay, to which you nodded your head and told him you were. And it was the truth, you were okay. It seemed like forever since you were able to just be okay with everything that happened. Maybe it wasn’t that you were actually okay with it, more like you had just come to terms with the fact that you’d probably never hear from Chan again, that he’d never want anything to do with you. It hurt more than anything to come to that realization, to really let it settle in that the two of you were no more, but you also knew that holding onto a false sense of hope for that relationship to come back would only cause more damage to yourself emotionally.
“You wanna go out for lunch or something?” You asked once you had finally got the air back into your lungs and the tears wiped from your eyes. The last time you had gone out for lunch with Hongjoong was when you were still living with Chan. It had been guilt keeping the both of you from doing something like that again, but you were turning over a new leaf, it was time for you to live your life and let go of the anchor that was holding you back, keeping you emotionally docked to a man that clearly didn’t want anything to do with you or his child.
Hongjoongs eyes widened for only a second before he nodded his head. Maybe he was beginning to feel the same way. To him, it was clear that Chan wasn’t coming back, and the guilt that had previously kept him from doing anything even remotely close to the likes of dating was beginning to fade away. “Of course, anything you want.” He said, a smile creeping up onto his face as he said it. This was normal, or at least the new normal for you, and maybe in the process there would come new love along with the new life that you were bringing into the world. You could only hope that that was the case.
“And then Wooyoung and San-” Hongjoong was continuing his story from across the table when you felt it. The sharp pain that you knew wasn’t a kick or a punch from your little girl. It had you momentarily blacking out and seeing stars as a sharp gasp replaced the scream that threatened to pour from your lips. “Y/N?” Your name rushed out of Hongjoongs mouth as he got up from his chair, so fast that it tipped back, but he was by your side before it had even hit the floor.
The wetness that pooled between your legs was sign enough that not only was your body, but she was ready to come out. “Hospital…” You breathlessly said the word, your eyes prickling with tears as you looked up at Hongjoong, trying to remember all of the breathing exercises that you had learned in the lamaze class that he went to with you. It was harder than you thought when so much seemed to be happening at once, you could barely even focus on your breathing, let alone the breathing that someone else had taught you to do.
“Right… Yeah… Of course… Oh shit.” Hongjoong stammered out the words, looking around the small restaurant in a state of panic, as if one of the unfortunate people who were now watching you would know what to do. It didn’t take long for a couple other women to come over and try to help you, some of them were on their phones already asking for an ambulance. “Thank you…” Hongjoong whispered to the women, thankful that he could now turn his attention solely back to you while you both waited for the ambulance.
By the time the ambulance did come, there were so many people surrounding you and Hongjoong, trying to comfort you, console you, calm you, literally anything as the pains got worse and worse. Contractions, as you were told, were painful, and the only thing you could really do was try to breathe through them until they stopped. The only problem was that they came so frequently that you didn’t have time to catch your breath before another one had you doubling over and gripping onto Hongjoongs hand even tighter.
It wasn’t just the contractions though, there was something else, something that you couldn’t even fully understand, but you just knew… Something was wrong. You could feel it, or moreso, you couldn’t feel anything. You thought that with the amount of contractions and everything that was going on that your daughter would be moving around just as frantically as everyone else in the room right now, but you couldn’t feel anything. “Please… hurry… There’s something wrong… Please…” Was all you managed to say to the paramedics as they helped get you out of your chair and onto a gurney.
“Everything is alright.” One of the paramedics said, but they didn’t know, they weren’t you, they weren’t going through this right now. You hated how they tried to make everything seem okay when it wasn’t. You weren’t stupid, and you knew your body better than anyone else. There was something wrong, and they needed to get you to the hospital as fast as possible instead of trying to fill your head with false hope. “We’ll be there soon, just keep breathing.” As if you had any other choice… It was all you could do. Just breathe until you get to the hospital, and hope and pray that your feeling was wrong.
The baby is in distress. We have to get her out quickly. Set up the room. Get her ready.
Hongjoong stood off to the side watching as doctors and nurses circled around you like vultures. He couldn’t watch as they poked you and prodded at you like some kind of lab experiment, and the only thing he felt was anxiety at the pure chaos that seemed to be unfolding around him. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy with tears and while he wanted to stand next to you and be there for you and hold your hand, every time he even got remotely close he’d be pushed back and replaced by another doctor that needed to check you over.
“Call him…” You said loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, and while the doctors didn’t even pause to let you talk to him, he had heard you through the noise and the commotion. He knew what you meant, and he knew exactly who you were talking about. He wasn’t sure why you’d want him to be there, unless you truly thought that something bad was going to happen to yourself, the baby, or the both of you, but he knew that, out of respect for Chan, he had to do it.
He nodded slowly, hesitant to step out of the room, but he knew that there wasn’t much that he could really do from inside the room either, and it’s not like he could make a phone call with all the noise, so he silently slipped out into the hallway and leaned against the wall. Would Chan even answer his phone? Even if he didn’t, it’s not like you’d be alone, and if something horrible did happen, that would be something that Chan would have to live with for the rest of his life.
The ringing lasted for a good bit, or maybe it was just the fact that time didn’t seem relative in this situation and a second seemed to last for an hour for Hongjoong, but when the ringing finally came to a stop and he heard a soft sigh through the speaker on his phone, he knew that Chan had finally picked up. “Y/N is in labor… She wanted me to call you. It’s not… going well… She wants you here.”
It was vague, but it got the point across. To be honest, Hongjoong didn’t have the slightest idea of what was truly going on back in the room, he heard the words, but he couldn’t fully comprehend them, they made no sense to him. “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Chan shakily asked, and while everything around Hongjoong seemed to be moving in slow motion, the sounds coming through his phone made it seem like Chan was in a world in double speed.
“I don’t know… I don’t know anything. She just wants you here. She wanted me to call you. She’s scared, I’m scared… I’m sorry, hyung.” He whimpered, tear drops spilling over his lashes and trickling down his cheeks. “Please come fast… I think they’re moving her…” They were both crying, that much was obvious, the sound of choked off sobs only slightly muffled by the car engine that rumbled through the speaker.
This felt a great deal like karma, although neither of the guys knew who it was coming after. Was it Hongjoong for unintentionally stealing away the family of another man, or was it Chan for being so oblivious to the blessings that he had been given that he let them be taken from him? Why would it go after you though? You and the innocent baby that didn’t know anything about what was going on around her? None of it made sense.
Silence filled the call, neither men speaking, but soon that silence was interrupted by the door being pulled open and the commotion that Hongjoong had temporarily removed himself from now flooded into the hallway. “These are your scrubs, follow us.” A doctor hurriedly handed Hongjoong the blue suit and then turned their attention back to the hospital bed that was being wheeled out of the room. Nurses followed behind, carrying the IV bag that you were still attached to, but now there was an oxygen mask over your face, although it wasn’t connected to anything, not yet at least. “There isn’t much time, hurry.” The doctor said, looking back at Hongjoong who was in a state of shock seeing you like this.
“What’s going on? I’m almost there… Hongjoong?” Chan finally spoke up, but there was nothing that Hongjoong could say. He still didn’t know what was going on, but now it felt like he was on limited time, and the last thing he wanted to do was be on the phone with Chan when he could be spending this time with you, or beside you… He should be there for you, and maybe Chan knew this, or maybe he just didn’t want you to go through this alone. “Go… I’ll get there soon… Don’t leave her…”
Sitting in the waiting room was Chan who had run through the hospital doors like a bat out of hell, pushing through people just to get to the front desk only to be told that he couldn’t even go back and see you. He was left with so many questions and no answers, fears that clouded his mind and made the sound of the television right above his head seem like nothing more than a low drone that was everything but calming.
There was no comfort found in the pristine white walls or the nose burning bleach smell from the overly sanitized floors. There was no solace felt when looking at the scenic paintings that hung along the walls. There was only a sense of looming dread that hung over him. To lose everything before he had even gotten it, to not even have had the chance to enjoy the time with you and his unborn daughter because he had so carelessly given it away just to chase his career.
“Sir…” Pulled from his thoughts by the low, almost mousy voice of the receptionist, he finally looked up at her. “You can go back now.” Was this a light at the end of the tunnel, or was it just the high beams of a car racing through only meant to give him some sense of false hope before he was crashed into?
Every step was slow, giving him time to prepare himself for whatever it was that he’d walk in on. Would you be okay or had he lost you? Had he lost his daughter? Were you both gone? Was he only allowed to come in just to say goodbye? Wouldn’t that be sick? To be led into a room where everything that he truly loved lay lifeless and cold… He wouldn’t be able to handle that, he wasn’t even able to handle the thought of that.
Hongjoong stood outside a door, his hair disheveled and his eyes reddened from crying. His cheeks and his nose looked raw, and his lips were chapped… But he was smiling. There was no sadness in his eyes, he wasn’t wearing the look of someone that he just witnessed something so horrifyingly devastating that Chan couldn’t even think of it. “They’re sleeping…” Hongjoong whispered, letting out an exasperated chuckle as he ran his hand through his hair for presumably the thousandth time today. “But they’re okay… They’re okay.” He repeated the words as if he himself needed the reassurance.
“Wh-... What happened?” Chan stammered, still left with a whirlwind of questions, but did it even matter what had happened? As long as you and his daughter were alright, that’s all that was important to him. “Is the baby in there? Can I see her?” Hongjoong shook his head no, and for a moment Chan thought that he was saying that he couldn’t see his daughter, but Hongjoong quickly motioned down the hall with his head.
“They have her in the nursery right now… They still want to check her over, make sure that there’s no issues. I… I wish I could tell you what all happened but… I couldn’t even ask questions and… I was so scared. I think it’s a good thing you didn’t make it in time to see it… I never want to see something like that ever again…” Hongjoong rambled, his head shaking so fast like he was trying to rid his mind of whatever images now plagued it. How bad had it been?
“Can I go in the room?” Chan asked, and Hongjoong paused, looking between Chan and the door before nodding his head. “Thank you… Thank you for taking care of her, and being there for her… And giving her everything that I failed to give.” Chan murmured, his hand freezing on the doorknob, eyes welling up with tears as he dropped his head. “You’re a better man than I am… And she deserves better… So does my daughter…”
He didn’t give Hongjoong time to respond, he wanted to get in the room and see you, make sure you were okay, and then go see his daughter to make sure she was okay as well before heading back home. He didn’t intend on staying, not because he didn’t want to, but he was sure that you wouldn’t truly want him around now that the nightmare was over. He had hurt you and pushed you away, he didn’t even feel like he should be there.
“Hey…” Your voice was soft, not intentionally, but you were groggy and tired, as he expected you to be after going through this. “You finally made it… Took long enough.” You scoffed, and Chan could only sigh. If only you knew the amount of accidents that he had dodged, the amount of tears he had shed just to get here, just to wait for the clearance to come into the room and see you. He would have argued it, but he found no point in fighting against you, not right now. “Did you get to see her yet?” You asked, and he shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as his top teeth sank down into his bottom lip. “Did I interrupt your work?”
Were you truly questioning it or was it just a jab at the fact that he had chosen work over you and the baby in the beginning? He wasn’t sure considering your voice didn’t really give way to any emotion other than exhaustion. “No… You didn’t interrupt anything. I was at home.” He said softly, and it felt like he was walking on a thin layer of ice. Any wrong move and he’d fall through. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here.”
“You’re a busy person… I understand that you can’t make it.” You said as nonchalantly as ever, as if you were just talking about the weather. “You should go see her before you have to go again. I’m not sure when your schedule will free up so… If you want me to send pictures of her to you I will…” You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes gazing far off into the distance, out the window of your little room. Was it because you’d get sad if you looked at him? Or would you just get really angry? How was it so easy for Hongjoong to juggle both his work and his life? Why was it so hard for Chan to do the same thing? Did he even have a chance to try to prove to you that he was sorry or had Hongjoong already made his way into the space in your heart that Chan thought was reserved for him?
“I never stopped thinking about you… About the baby… I never stopped thinking about how much of an idiot I was for leaving you… For letting you leave.” Chan began, and he saw your tongue push against the inside of your cheek, something that you did when you were thinking just a little bit too hard. What were you thinking about? “And I know that right now isn’t the best time to be coming to you and telling you this. I should have come to you the day after you left… I shouldn’t have even let you walk out that door. But I love you, and I love our baby… And that dream that we created together… I still want that with you. I want to be with you, I want to have a family with you… I want so much for you to just be home again.” He shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut to try to hide the fact that he was getting teared up. “I want our home to be the home that you bring our daughter to when you both get discharged… But I know that I’m too late…”
For the first time since he had walked into the room, you looked at him. Your head turned slowly to let your eyes, filled with confusion, fall upon him. “What do you mean you’re too late? I’m not dead, Chan. I had a c-section… and while it still feels sore and I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch later… I’m still alive.” You said it as if that were the only thing he should be worried about, but he knew that Hongjoong was just outside the door, and maybe you were just trying to play dumb to protect Chans feelings, although he wasn’t sure why you’d do something like that considering the hell that he put you through.
“I know that you and Hongjoong are together… You don’t have to hide it or pretend…” Chan mumbled, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before letting out a loud, heavy sigh. “He’s better for you anyway. He was always there for you… He was there for the baby before she was even born… There’s no way that I can compete with him. I understand that he took my place… But I do love you, and… if it’s okay with him… I would like to still be in her life… I want to watch her… grow up… I want to be there for birthdays and holidays and-”
“What the fuck are you on about?” You cut him off with the question, your eyebrows arched and your face had shock written across it. “Hongjoong and I aren’t together. Holy shit, Chan.” You let out a scoff that sounded more like you were trying to hold in your laughter. “Is that why you didn’t try to get in touch with me? Because you thought that he and I were… together?” You quizzed, and Chan mumbled out a sheepish yes in response. “So you’re telling me… We could have been together… through the better half of the last portion of my pregnancy… But we weren’t because you thought I started dating Hongjoong?”
Chans hands flew to his face and his head fell back as he let out a loud groan. “Yes. Yes! I was stupid! I let my assumptions get the best of me and I missed out on the birth of my daughter because of that. Is that what you want to hear? I’m stupid!” His head shook before he let it drop down, his eyes lingering on the lines between the floor tiles. “Why didn’t you message me though? What was keeping you from reaching out… Not that it was your job to, considering what had happened… but… If you missed me and wanted me there for all of that… Why didn’t you text me or call me?”
Now it was you who grew quiet, your hand that was free of the IV running through your hair as your eyes bore into him, and even though he wasn’t looking, he could feel the heat of your gaze from across the room. “Because you told me to leave… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I was devastated that you just let me walk out, and it made me feel like you wouldn’t care if I tried to get in contact with you anyway. I was pregnant, and I never felt so alone in my life, even with Hongjoong there to help me. All I wanted was you. But I was scared that you’d tell me to leave you alone and… I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of rejection, not from you.”
His heart sank at the revelation of how you truly felt, and he couldn’t believe how far it was from the truth. He still had one more question though, one that seemed to be burning brighter now that he knew how you felt. “Why did you call me today? Not that I’m mad about it but… what made you want to see me now?”
The sudden sound of you sniffling filled the room, and you fumbled with the edge of your blankets as you took a few shaky breaths. “Because… I thought something was wrong… That something would go wrong and… Even if you hated me, I needed you here. I was scared that I would die… That she… You know… And I just needed you.” Your voice broke at the end and the sniffles turned to full sobs as your head dropped and your hair curtained your face.
He ran over to your bedside, grabbing your hand, for the moment completely forgetting that he hadn’t been around at all, the only thing he wanted now was to be there for you, to show you that he loved you. “I’m here now… You’re okay, she’s okay… I don’t want you to think of those things anymore… okay?” He whispered, petting his fingers over your hair and tucking it behind your ears before tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you… And I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through… But I want to be here now, if you’ll give me that chance. Just one more chance… Please…”
Perm Tags :
@whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin
@his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67
@randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix
@felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @delululi @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @karlitaburrito @laylasbunbunny @chimicurri-a
People who asked to be tagged in this fic specifically :
@chanssmiles @hanschimpmunk @zerefdragn33l @aloverga @minciel93 @aeikly @possumy @clausatur @pinkies-things @vickyyoon @jaquisos
#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x you#skz x you#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids drabble#skz drabble#stray kids fic#skz fic#stray kids angst#skz angst#christopher bang#bangchan#bangchan x reader#bangchan x you#bangchan angst#bangchan headcanons#bangchan imagines#bangchan scenarios#bangchan fic#bangchan drabble
548 notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: Harry Styles x book writer!reader
fc: Saoirse Ronan
summary: YN just released her debut book, and it became the hot topic online. It might have something to do with certain someone being spotted buying it.
a/n: comments to all those posts are long, because i wanted to somehow incorporate the plot of the book that book writer!reader wrote!
masterlist taglist
——————————————————————————————
yourinstagram
liked by fallinloveinbooks, user49 and 89 202 others
yourinstagram Those are the notebooks in which I wrote my little baby. I can't believe I am typing this, but 'Silver Lining' is out !!! You can buy it at all independent London bookstores. I can't wait for your reviews. I'll read them all.
view all 8 201 comments
yourbestfriend MY BEST FRIEND IS AN AUTHOR !!! JANE AUSTEN WHO ???
⤷ yourinstagram do not disrespect the legend here
fallinloveinbooks OMG i've been following you since that one post about understanding fantasy world and being allowed to incorporate real world in it! i can't wait to read it, im going to the store right now!
⤷ yourinstagram YOU. ARE. THE. SWEETEST. and i remember you from that post and all that came after. I LOVE YOU and will wait for your words!
user92 what is the genre of the book?
⤷ yourinstagram it's fantasy! but there are a few subgenres. i'd say romance and mystery play a huge role in this book, too!
user109 will it be available online? im from us and would love to read your book!
⤷ yourinstagram unfortunately, not in a foreseeable future
⤷ user109 oh no, why??
⤷ yourinstagram being completely transparent, i released this book using my own money- no publishing house involved - because no one was really interested in it. what is in the stores is the printing i was able to afford. hopefully, they will sell and i'll be able to print more editions.
⤷ user102 im crossing my fingers for you
hArrysbtch i was looking for some new fantasy books, you are sent from heaven
⤷ yourinstagram hope you like it, angel
——————————————————————————————
harryupdates
liked by hArrysbtch, yourbestfriend and 80 393 others
harryupdates HARRY outside of the independent bookstore in London today! EDIT: because all of you are asking, he apparently bought 'Silver Lining' by YN YSN !
view all 2 202 comments
hArrysbtch I've just finished that book and OMG OMG OMG, i don't know what to tell you, but he's getting into something so beautiful so structured so sad, i can't say enough.
⤷ harrysmoustache so it's worth it?
⤷ hArrysbtch YES. YES. YES. absolutely. from the first page to the last, it just consumes you. yn did such a good job, and it's her first book ever!
⤷ harrysmoustache oh, i can't find it online
⤷ hArrysbtch it's only at independent bookstores in London. no publishing house was involved, she printed all the copies available with her own money. i can buy it for you and send it?
⤷ harrysmoustache i DMed you!
stylesbabie harry in his book girl era
harrysmylife he is back and he is reading, he's just like me
user102 there's no way he has that book and i don't
fallinloveinbooks I've read it, and I loved it. I hated it because of how much it made me cry. Harry, you're in for a ride a wild one with all the *wink*wink* scenes and the most heartbreaking chapters of literature I've ever come upon
——————————————————————————————
——————————————————————————————
yourinstagram
liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 173 302 others
yourinstagram I cannot express how thankful I am for you and your love for my book. Unfortunately, for now, there are no copies available. But im trying to make it work. But maybe it wasn't meant to be...
view all 10 202 comments
yourbestfriend that's a bestseller book if you ask me
⤷ yourinstagram you are the love of my life
hArrysbtch not you using the last line of the book, like it didn't tear my heart open
hArrysbtch thank god it's already on my bookshelf, happy that it broke my heart and made me horny
⤷ yourinstagram Those were the emotions I wanted people to feel!
harrysmoustache my copy is flying to me, and I can't wait to read it
⤷ yourinstagram ill be waiting for your review!
user102 read, loved, cried and read again
⤷ yourinstagram two times??? i could smother you in kisses
⤷ user102 i wouldn’t mind that
user292 can't explain how unique and original it is
⤷ yourinstagram ❤️
user939 not harry lurking in the likes
——————————————————————————————
harryupdates
liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 128 402 others
harryupdates HARRY and writer YN YSN out and about in London today!
view all 6 080 comments
hArrysbtch Alexa play that should be me by Justin Bieber
hArrysbtch she's mine harry, fuck off
hArrysbtch what is it that whenever I find someone to obsess over they become somehow connected to harry
hArrysbtch but, i smell couple material !!!
harrysmoustache he's gonna be the inspiration spark
⤷ hArrysbtch don't even start! i read silver lining with Harry in mind as one of the main characters
⤷ harrysmoustache as Emrys, right?
⤷ hArrysbtch yes! my protective and sexy bookboyfriend
⤷ user102 I see, we support complicated men here, i love it
stylesbabie they look so good together
⤷ user02 their backs are towards the camera...
⤷ stylesbabie shhh
harrysmylife I love her style !!!!
user402 she's getting so much attention from it. how did she manage this pr?
⤷ hArrysbtch pr???
⤷ user402 don't tell me it doesn't look like one?
⤷ hArrysbtch yeah, I forgot. every woman harry is seen with is just pr or the one to hate. of course. tpwk does not include woman harry is involved with?
⤷ harrysmoustache burnt!!!
——————————————————————————————
bloomsbury
liked by yourinstagram, yourbestfriend, harrystyles and 40 492 others
bloomsbury Our newest pea in the Bloomsbury pod is the sweetest, London based, young author who has just published her debut novel. We are here to help and tell you that 'Silver Lining' is coming to all bookstores in the world and to online shopping as well on the 15th of November. To feel whole again.
view all 2 202 comments
yourinstagram I LOVE MY NEW POD
yourbestfriend DONT FORGET ABOUT ME WHEN YOU BECOME FAMOUS
⤷ yourinstagram NEVER
harrystyles Congratulations, YN ❤️
⤷ yourinstagram well, thank you, harry
hArrysbtch my favourite author is getting famous!!!
fallinloveinbooks I CANT BELIEVE IT !!! congrats, yn!!
⤷ yourinstagram thank you, sweets!
——————————————————————————————
fallinloveinbooks
liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 6 492 others
fallinloveinbooks I'm attending YN's 'meet the writer' thingy in London and I cannot express how much appreciation I have for her. She thought every little detail in 'Silver Lining' through to make the book perfect. An icon!
view all 211 comments
hArrysbtch I am here too! And I love her so much!
harrysmoustache you need to either film some moments or just post-stream it for us!
stylesbabie she looks so beautiful
user102 I am here as well! we need to meet up!
⤷ hArrysbtch im in the second row!
⤷ user102 are you the one with a pixie cut?
⤷ hArrysbtch Yes, that's me!
⤷ fallinloveinbooks I think im sitting next to you, hArrysbtch
user42 come on guys, let us now what are the questions and answers!
——————————————————————————————
——————————————————————————————
dailymail
liked by hArrysbtch, user102 and 103 393 others
dailymail NEW COUPLE ALERT? Harry Styles and newly established writer YN YSN were seen leaving the same restaurant (Styles a few moments after YSN). YN independently published her debut novel just two months ago and then signed a contract with Bloomsbury publishing house after Harry had been seen buying her book. For more photos and information, visit the link in our bio!
view all 19 302 comments
user102 not you making harry the only reason she got the contract
hArrysbtch she got a contract because of the interest her book sparked online, not harry
harrysmoustache i'll just leave it here but literally Neil Gaiman praised this book online
user402 oh yes, when the privilege is striking
user99 you just cannot stop taking photos of people in their free time, invading their privacy, can you?
——————————————————————————————
yourinstagram
liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 201 392 others
yourinstagram Somethin' is cookin'. And that's the audiobook of "Silver Lining" voiced by me! It will be available on 23rd of December as podcast episodes on Spotify for more of you to enjoy! Merry early Christmas!
PS: there may or may not be someone else to accord their voice to Emrys
view all 19 292 comments
yourbestfriend i could be Rhiannon
⤷ yourinstagram you were laughing your ass off after two lines
⤷ yourbestfriend not my fault that Rhiannon is the comedy queen
harrystyles 📖🎤
hArrysbtch NO WAY! i adore your voice and now i'm gonna picture you as Rhiannon - this book just became even better (it already was perfect, i don't how you're doing it"
⤷ yourinstagram hopefully, i won't end up as her
fallinloveinbooks my dream came true. i usually have such a hard time reading that audiobooks are the only option. now i'm going to listen to my favourite chapter over and over again
⤷ yourinstagram which ones are your favourite?
⤷ fallinloveinbooks definitely 6, 15, 24, 33 and 42
⤷ hArrysbtch all the chapters that depicts love - i see you
⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes! the thing is that number 6 refers to love and all those chapter number's are either 6 or add up to 6
hArrysbtch wait wait wait, i've just realised. what if harry is voicing Emrys????
⤷ harrysmoustache don't give me hope
⤷ fallinloveinbooks that would be perfect
⤷ user102 i'm not ready to listen to chapter 24 and 33 with him voicing it
⤷ hArrysbtch i will die, literally. those scenes are intense!
user102 she just wants people to be able to read the book and not care about paying bundle and having shitty quality. i love her.
——————————————————————————————
harrysupdates
liked by hArrysbtch, fallinloveinbooks and 109 393 others
harryupdates HARRY and YN at the market in Clonakilty, Ireland!
view all 6 001 comments
hArrysbtch someone tell me is that her home town?
⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes, it is! her parents still live there!
⤷ hArrysbtch meeting parents? oh god, they are serious serious
fallinloveinbooks they live that small town romance book lives
⤷ user102 so true! i need her to write something like this!
⤷ hArrysbtch i would eat it up
stylesbabie Niall is proud right now
harrysmylife i can't express how much i love domestic harry
user20 she started the thunder online after *possibly* announcing that harry will voice Emrys and decided to step away from socials. i love her. i love her. i love her.
——————————————————————————————
irishharry
liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 23 403 others
irishharry How thin are the chances to meet Harry in a small Irish town? Very thin. But not thin enough to be impossible. I MET HARRY FREAKING STYLES AND THE LEGEND HERSELF YN YSN !!!
view all 2 022 comments
hArrysbtch they look so cosy... i want what they have
⤷ fallinloveinbooks a man?
⤷ hArrrysbtch yuck, i only like fictional men + harry
harrysmoustache this ken's job is walk
harryupdates this is very aestheticly pleasing photo
stylesbabie small town!harry is my favourite
user102 hopefully the inspiration is overflowing because i'm reading silver lining for the third time
⤷ hArrysbtch are you okay???
⤷ user102 nope. i just love torturing myself
fallinloveinbooks the matching coats...
——————————————————————————————
yourinstagram
liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 401 100 others
yourinstagram my love in your heart...
view all 14 292 comments
yourbestfriend answer my calls, yn !!!
⤷ yourinstagram i won't tell you
harrystyles ...my heart in your palm
hArrysbtch I LOVE THE SOFT LAUNCH
hArrysbtch PARENTS
harrysmoustache i love how we all know that this is harry but at the same time it doesn't have to be
⤷ hArrysbtch it better be! this post just cured all my mental problems
fallinloveinbooks the caption... is it the title?
⤷ user102 look at harry's comment, it might be a main thing in her next novel/short story collection
⤷ hArrysbtch the inspiration sparked and inspiration was harry. that's it. when it's published i can die happily
⤷ user102 decide, that or harry voicing Emrys
⤷ hArrybtch im chronically online, don't require any consistency from me
harryupdates vacation in a small irish town birthed some masterpiece, i just know it
——————————————————————————————
a/n: i have part 2 made in my mind already. do we want more of them?
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles instagram#harry styles fake ig#harry styles fluff#book writer!reader
510 notes
·
View notes
Text
Promises
THG AU
Victor!Aegon II Targaryen x Victor!Reader
Summary: President Snow announces that in the next Quarter Quell, the tributes will be reaped from among the victors.
Logically I should have posted the Jace games first but it's been a while since I posted anything about Aegon and I was excited haha
Edit: The first chapter of the Jace games is now available.
Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Please, if you enjoyed this reading, let me know in the comments or in my inbox, that always motivates me to continue writing 💖💖
My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
You were in the house of Viserys Targaryen like the rest of the victors from your district. Of course, you had to drag Aegon's drunk ass out of his house and bring him here first. Everyone was waiting for the broadcast about the seventy-five Hunger Games. All the Hunger Games were bloody but this year was the third quarter quell and in each quarter quell they modified the rules with the purpose of making the games even more brutal and more difficult to win. In the last quarter quell instead of sending two tributes per district they sent four so you couldn't even imagine what they planned to do now.
You locked eyes with Rhaenyra as you heard her father laugh at his own joke. She, like you, seemed to be anxious about the announcement because she kept spinning her rings.
“That's enough,” you said when you heard Alicent, Aegon's mother and Viserys' wife, sigh for the fifth time when she saw that her son wouldn't stop drinking. You tried to take the bottle from him but he slapped you and looked at you annoyed. Rhaenyra was ready to intervene but you waved her hand at her telling her you could handle it. “At least you can share a little,” you complained.
Aegon looked at you suspiciously. It wouldn't be the first time that you asked him to share his alcohol with you and then didn't return the bottle or in any case threw away all its contents. He groaned as he watched you pout before handing you the bottle. You smiled at him making a small smile appear on his face. Even so, he watched you carefully as you drank his whiskey, when he thought it was enough he abruptly took the bottle from you, causing the liquid to drip onto your chin. He laughed at your annoyed look as you wiped yourself with your hand. Rhaenyra shook her head at their foolishness.
President Snow finally appeared on the screen. Aegon's laughter stopped as did the conversation between Daemon, Viserys, and Harrold. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary, as every year he talked about the uprising against the Capitol and how significant the games were until…
"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol"You didn't know why but you couldn't help but get tense, you felt your stomach drop, you tried to calm by telling yourself that surely it was just the drink you had that was bad for you and you leaned back from the couch, listening even more attentively to the speech. "the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."
You heard Alicent's screams. You watched as Rhaenyra got up from the couch and left the house. You flinched at the sound of breaking glass. The president's voice was no longer heard and the smell of whiskey filled the place. Aegon was no longer next to you, he found himself banging his head against the wall as he screamed. You felt like your heart was going a mile a second. You had a lump in your throat and your chest hurt and all you wanted to do was join in the screaming and smash things but that wouldn't help. Aegon needed you, Aemond and Daeron were busy trying to calm their mother down while Viserys carried a frightened Helaena to her room and Harrold along with Willis was trying to stop Daemon from destroying the kitchen as he had done with the vases in the living room.
You stood up and didn't bother to dodge the glass as you walked towards the youngest male victor in your district. You tugged at the back of his shirt, managing to move him away from the wall for a brief moment.
“Aegon! Stop” you shouted in a broken voice as you saw her hit herself again.
Hearing your voice like that Aegon turned to see you. There was now a bloody gash on his forehead and his eyes were manic. For a brief moment you thought he would attack you but all he did was pull your body towards his and entice you into a tight hug.
“We can't go back. I can’t go back” You felt his body shake as he sobbed and your heart broke for him. You knew Aegon's head couldn't handle surviving another arena, he spends all his time drinking to stay groggy and avoid thinking about all the people he killed. Even most of the time he only managed to fall asleep after having been drinking non-stop. "I can not do it"
“You won't,” you promised, caressing his cheeks, your head already hatching a plan. District One has five living male victors: Viserys, Daemon, Aegon, Willis Fell, and Harrold Westerling. There were chances that Aegon's name wouldn't come up in the reaping but if it did then Daemon could offer himself as a tribute. He would do it if you volunteered in Rhaenyra's place and if you promised to help him keep his girlfriend from District Four alive.
“I can't lose you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. Maybe he was lucky and his name didn't come up in the reaping but you had less chance. You and Rhaenyra were the only living victors in the district. If your name came up he knew his sister wouldn't show up as a tribute. She may not depend on being drunk to keep her calm but he had witnessed how she would sometimes wake up screaming and the dark circles under her eyes were evidence that she could sometimes go days without sleep.
And those words ended up destroying you. You started crying with him. You wanted to be strong but you couldn't. You didn't want to go back to the arena either, you were supposed to be free after winning the games, and you didn't want to kill again, much less people you know. You may not be friends with every victor but during these years as a mentor, you had at least spoken once with each one.
Your stomach twisted as you thought that maybe it was one of your friends who would finish you off. Would they be merciful and give you a not-so-painful death? You didn't believe it because you knew that the people in the Capitol liked the show, they got bored with a simple death, and they wanted to see blood. So if Arryk, Tyland Johanna, and Sabitha wanted to live they would have to put on a show to gain sponsors.
Perhaps the easiest thing would be to commit suicide in the games, you would bring dishonor to your district—you wouldn't be the first, people still didn't see Viserys as a true victor after having betrayed his cousin by killing her while she slept—but at least you wouldn't have to kill anyone. The president couldn't punish you, he had already taken away your loved ones after you refused to prostitute yourself and killed the one who was supposed to be your biggest sponsor, he had only wanted you to come out alive so he could obtain your body.
You could die by eating some poisonous bug, plant, or fruit like Jacaerys Strong and her district mate had tried to do at the last minute. Supposedly they had done it because they were in love and didn't dare to be in a world without each other but you were sure it was an act. You could come to believe that the girl is in love but the boy does not seem natural with every display of affection in public.
“It's not fair,” you whispered in disbelief when you realized that they were all being punished because of the last victors. They had done their act of rebellion by threatening to eat poisonous berries so that there would be no winner of the games after announcing that the rule that there could be two winners if they were part of the same district was revoked. “It's not fair,” you moved your hands away from Aegon's face for fear that in your state of fury, you might end up scratching him. “I want them dead.”
You were too deep in your head to notice Aegon looking at you in dismay. Tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes but there was no longer fear in them but fury and determination. You have the same look you had during your Hunger Games.
You may die in these hunger games but at least before you leave you would make sure to make the so-called lovers of District Twelve pay for ruining what little peace you and Aegon had. You would make them wish they had died in their games.
These days it seemed like all you felt was anger. Angry at President Snow, at the Capitol, at Jacaerys Strong, and the girl from Twelve. But right now the one you were angry at was Aegon. The day after the announcement about vassalage was made, all the victors agreed that they would train together and get in shape for these games. The only one who had continued training all these years was Daemon, so the rest had a lot to catch up on, especially Viserys and Harrold—because of their age—and Aegon—because of his alcoholism—so when it was about to be a week and the idiot still didn't leave his house, you got angry.
You entered his house with the key he gave you a year ago. You found him sleeping on the couch with several bottles, some empty and others still unopened, on his table. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid waking him up by screaming. The best thing would be to take advantage of the fact that he was asleep to get rid of any alcohol that was in the house. You started by inspecting the entire house and ended up throwing the contents of two flasks that were in his bathroom, five bottles of whiskey that you found in his room, and five bottles of vodka in his kitchen, down the drain.
When Aegon woke up he found you putting the bottles that were on his table into a garbage bag. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and once his vision fully focused he slowly stood up. He walked towards you and he hugged you from behind. Feeling your body he tensed he left a kiss on the back of your neck hoping you would relax but instead, he earned a slap on his hands that were on your waist. The blonde grumbled and walked away from you, finally realizing your bad mood.
“Go take a bath” you ordered without looking at him and continuing with your cleaning task.
Aegon listened to you, of course, he left before grumbling, revealing his displeasure at your cold tone towards him, hoping that once he was clean you would let him hug you and kiss you. At the thought of having your sweet lips, he soon took a quick shower and didn't even bother to dry his hair well before coming down to meet you in the kitchen. I smile at you when I see that you have made him eggs and toasted him bread. Before eating he wanted to look for a bottle of vodka to accompany the meal but he found his shelf empty.
“No more alcohol,” you declared, making the blonde turn to look at you with a frown. “Don't even try, I got rid of everything” you said when you saw him opening another shelf.
“You have no right!” He reproached you, pointing his finger as he walked towards you. You didn't flinch at his angry look nor did you try to escape when he placed both of his hands on the table, leaving you caged between his body and the table.
“You told me you couldn't lose me” The man looked at you confused without understanding what this had to do with you taking away his alcohol “So I'm training and I'm trying hard for these games for you” You felt heat on your face because of what you were about to say, you weren't used to being so open with your feelings. “I want you to do the same for me. I want you to train with me and the rest of the victors. I want you to promise me that you will give everything you have to win these games because I can't lose you either, I couldn't bear to live without you” Your voice broke at the end and you closed your eyes.
You needed Aegon to promise you so you could be a little calmer, you had already spoken with Daemon and he accepted your deal but you were still afraid that he would betray you at the last minute, you needed to know that Aegon would not give up if he went to the arena.
Feeling his chest warm at your words Aegon grabbed you by the waist to bring you even closer to him and captured his lips with yours. It didn't take long for you to move your lips in tandem with him. While he got drunk with the sweetness of your lips and melted before your touch, he couldn't help but think that this was the way he wanted to spend his last days, by your side. He also wanted to hit his past self for not taking advantage of every moment he had with you. If only he had made the effort to be a decent man and become someone worthy of you he would have told you a long time ago that he loves you. But he didn't and he didn't want to tie you down to spending the rest of your life with a useless drunk so he kept his feelings to himself and settled for those shared nights.
A growl left his lips as you broke the kiss. He tried to kiss you again but you moved your face making him pout.
"Please, Aegon. I need you to train. I need you to try and fight for us."
He hated that look in your eyes. He could see the fear and sadness in them. And knowing that he was one of the reasons you were unhappy made him feel a pit in his stomach. He didn't like the idea of having to fight Daemon and obey his orders, but he would do it for you.
"I will do it, I promise"
Maybe later when he is crying and with sore muscles he would regret it but seeing how your eyes lit up and the bright smile you gave him he didn't believe that would happen.
"I love you" he finally confessed his feelings and smiled when he saw the surprise in your eyes "I love you. I love you. I love you" he repeated while he spread kisses all over your face.
A mixture of laughter and sobs escaped your lips. You were happy to know that he also felt the same as you, you had long wanted to hear those words, but your heart ached knowing that you would not be able to spend the rest of your life at Aegon's side. It was a bittersweet feeling.
"I love you too," you declared through tears.
Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @fluffly @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @nzygftoji
Tumblr won't let me tag them: @arabis-world @Snileykiddie08 @Bugheadskid @lauufeysonnn @missusnora @sabi127 @cicaspair418 @sydneyyyya
#thg au#the hunger games au#hotd x reader#aegon ii x you#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii targaryen x you#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x you#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#aegon x y/n#aegon x reader#aegon x you#aegon ii imagine#aegon ii fic#hotd fic#hotd fanfic#aegon targaryen ii#house of the dragon x you#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader
568 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
hisorganizasyon
His Organizasyon
enos-leptou-kraugh
Ενός Λεπτού Κραυγή
cosmosmarius
luna
risa
彡 ☆
paulreichstein
Paul Stephen Reichstein