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#almost everything she said is mock hurt or sarcastic
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We should be best friends too Lando X Fem reader
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Summary: Y/n is Pietra's best friend, she considers Max to be a nice guy, but who she really can't stand is Max's best friend, Lando. At Max's birthday party, Pietra asks just one thing, an easy, fun night, but with Y/N and Lando in the same room, this is almost impossible.
Warnings: Bad words and alcohol.
Word Count: 15K Notes: I suck at second parts, so I'm taking my time with the pt2 of "Playing with fire". In the meantime, here's something new. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for all your comments,
__________________________
"He's coming, isn't he?"
"Y/n, it's Max's best friend, please, please, please, no fights tonight"
"He's the one that always started them!"
"And you were amazing at going along instead of being the grownup and letting it go"
"Excuse me, who's your best friend?!"
"You, but please, just tonight, can you be extra patient with Lando?"
"I'll try"
Pietra had been dating Max for a year now, and it took four months for you to hate Lando. Almost every night you were together ended with a fight between you two. _____________________________
"Hey Mate, happy birthday!" You didn't need to turn to look at the door to recognize the voice owner. You sighed in annoyance.
"Friend of yours, I assume?" the guy standing in front of you, and whom you had been flirting with for the last hour, said with a sarcastic smile.
"Best friend" you rolled your eyes.
To keep your promise to Pietra you tried to stay away from Lando as much as possible and focus on the cute guy in front of you.
____________________________
"Let me get you a refill" Your date took the glass from your hand.
"Thanks"
"My pleasure" he winked at you and then leaned in to place a soft, quick peck on your lips. So far, the night seemed to be going better than expected, no interactions with Lando, and sex with a cute guy was coming your way.
"Isn't he a gentleman?!" His mocking voice was even more annoying.
You took a deep breath before turning around to face Lando.
"Fuck you"
"What's with the cursing? I was just making a statement, you seem to have great taste in men"
"Wish I could say the same about your date" You threw a quick glance toward the blond girl who had been all over Lando for the last 45 minutes, she had done nothing to you but you already disliked her and the childlike way she was giggling with her friends, probably talking about him.
"Ouch"
"Just move and stay away from..." you tried to walk past him but your stupid heel got caught on the carpet. Everything happened so fast. The Brit caught you mid-air, his arms around your waist as your hands fell on his torso, his black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, so your hand was against his skin.
"You ok?" You could have sworn you heard concern in his voice.
The tight grip on your waist and the feeling of his warm skin under your hand seemed to be a little too much for your alcohol-intoxicated brain to voice out a response, so you just nodded.
"If you wanted to cup a feel you could've just asked, you know you have a free pass"
And there he was again, the annoying self-centered prick.
"Please, don't flatter yourself, I would choose planking face first on the floor over this, any day." You pushed him hard, trying to shake away the feeling of his touch.
“And hurt that gorgeous face of yours?” His finger softly traced your cheek, down to your chin, but you pulled away “I would never let that happen. Also, I’ve been told my arms are nice and cozy.” He crossed his arms over his chest, making them seem even bigger.
“Too bad they are attached to a huge self-centered piece of shit like you!”
"Wow" Max's voice startled you. You had said that last phrase as the music changed from one song to another, so every person in the room had heard you, including the cute guy, who was now standing a couple steps away, staring at you.
"Y/n" the disappointed look on your best friend's face broke your heart a little.
"I'm sorry, P." You walked past Lando, took your bag, and left the flat.
A couple tears streamed down your face, falling on your cell screen as you searched for an Uber to take you home.
"Fuck!" you mouthed when the No cars Available text appeared on your screen. You closed the app and opened it again, wishing for a miracle. It was almost 2 am on a Tuesday, and getting an Uber in the middle of the suburbs was a nightmare, you walked to the end of the street, praying that from there, it would be easier to get a car, but again, nothing.
You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, trying to ease the tears, but the frustration and embarrassment were too strong.
A couple minutes later a car stopped right in front of you, from the engine sound it was a sports car, and you knew exactly who it belonged to. The driver's door opened, and you heard him walk towards you.
"Y/n" his voice was low.
"Go away" You didn't turn to look at him, your eyes were probably bloodshot from the tears, and you've had enough humiliation for one night. You opened the Uber app again to keep your sight down.
"Y/n, I'll take you home, come on" He walked to the passenger door and opened it.
"I'd rather crawl there" You answered bluntly.
Like a cruel joke, a sudden gust of wind blew against your body, and goosebumps covered your skin, it was unusually cold for July. As you walked to the threshold of the building, searching for some shelter, the bottoms of your feet reminded you of the heels you were wearing, if you dared to walk back home you might have to do it barefoot.
"Unless you're planning on going back inside, or a car has magically appear on the app..."
"How could I walk back inside there?" You cut him off "I just made a complete fool of myself because of you!" You finally turned to see him as a couple of tears threatened to fall from your eyes again. He looked down at the floor, he seemed embarrassed.
"Then please get in the car, I'll take you home...you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to" He offered you his hand.
You stared at him, he seemed honest and embarrassed. You hated yourself, the puppy eyes were actually working?
"Please, P and Max would kill me if I let you go home alone."
You sighed loudly and walked towards the car. You ignored his stretched-out hand, trying to make a statement, that you were doing it against your will.
As you got inside the car his scent hit you hard, you always claimed he used way too much cologne, but now it seemed nice, warm, almost pleasant, maybe finally being out of the cold was playing tricks on your mind.
The sound of his door shutting pulled you back from your thoughts.
When the car didn't move, you turned to look at him to find him staring back at you.
"What?" you asked in a low voice.
"The seatbelt" he answered as if it was obvious.
"Oh" you turned to pull on it as he started the car and drove away.
It was a quiet drive. From time to time, you discretely turned to look at Lando, whom you always thought was one of those annoying guys with sports cars that would find every little chance to show off, but he seemed to be a decent driver.
Your phone vibrated in your bag.
Pietra💗: Are you ok?
Y/n: Yes, I'm on my way home, I'm so sorry P 😔
Pietra 💗: Don't worry about it, Lando picked you up? He said he was going out to look for you.
Y/n: Yes 😒
Pietra 💗: Good, let me know when you get home, please don't kill him, he's truly embarrassed about how he behaved.
Y/n: Can't promise anything
"Pietra?"
"Yes" You answered without taking your eyes off the phone screen.
"Good to know I have witnesses in case I go missing" He looked at you with a mischievous grin as if you were great friends and this was an inside joke.
You turned to look at him, your face anything but friendly. Why was he acting like you were there because you were friends and not because he had been an asshole?
"Oook" He said in a low whisper and kept his attention on the road.
A few minutes later you heard a breathy laugh from the driver.
"What now?" You asked, breaking the silence.
"You look like a chihuahua"
"Excuse me?"
"You're trembling so much. Maybe you should have worn something more clothy" He stared down at your outfit, black shorts, a lacey bralette, and a matching black blazer.
"I was supposed to spend the night inside a flat"
"But you decided to throw a tantrum like a five-year-old and run out"
"It was all your fault! If you had stayed away from me, right now I would've been with..." You cut yourself off.
"With Mr. Charming?" He turned to look at you. "You just met him tonight." His tone was filled with judgment.
"Why do you care?" You turned to look at him with a raised brow. For some reason, the question threw him off balance, it was nice to be on the other end of the jokes and the messing around.
"Do you want me to care?" He turned to look at you when he stopped at a red light, your winning punch was short-lived.
"Pff, please." You were about to turn away when a sudden movement caught your attention. He turned his body towards you and his hand went behind your headrest. He stared at you deeply, and you stared back. What was he doing? He slowly moved towards you, and your breath quickened as you felt your body get warmer, why was he getting closer? Your mind screamed to move away, but your body didn't move an inch.
Your breath got caught in your throat when he was just inches away from your face.
"Here, put this on before you freeze" he whispered lowly, pulling a hoodie from behind your seat, his breath warmly caressing your blushing face. You stared at him confused.
"What?" He asked, a cocky grin on his face.
"Fuck you"
"If only I had a swear jar." He placed the hoodie on your lap and put the car in movement when the light changed to green.
You contemplated throwing the hoodie back to him, but the cold was teeth chattering, so you got it on. The smell of his cologne intensified, and it felt... it felt nice. You hated how much you seemed to like it. Maybe he had changed colognes, usually, you would find it repulsive.
He turned on the radio, that stupid grin still on his face.
You were getting close to your house, a weird feeling in your chest. Was it sadness? Why would you feel sad about getting home?
Suddenly, the car turned towards a Starbucks drive-thru.
"What are you doing?"
"You're still trembling and I'm out of hoodies, maybe coffee will help you get warm"
He got to the speaker and ordered your favorite drink and a hot chocolate for him.
“How did you know?”
“That coffee gets you warm? It’s basic knowledge, I know you think I’m stupid, but I know things, you know?”
“How do you know my coffee order?”
“Oh, umm the weekend you and Pietra stayed at my house in Mónaco I ordered coffee and P told me what you liked”
“It’s been ages since that happened"
“Yeah..." A weird look on his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. He turned to look away as he approached the window to receive the order.
"Here"
You took the warm cup off his hand. Who was this person?
You held the cup close to your body, giving in to the heat.
"Thanks" You smiled back at him.
"No problem" He drove off as you took a sip from the warm, delicious liquid.
"Is it working?"
"It is, it's nice... why are you doing this?"
"I don't want you to get sick"
"Why?"
"Because being sick sucks?"
"Why are you being nice?" You insisted
"I don't get the question"
"You've never been this nice to me. You're usually picking on me and... being annoying"
"I'm not"
"Yes, you are. You're always calling me names, saying I'm spoiled, uptight, a control freak, you also mock the guys I go out with, the music I listen to, the movies I like..."
"Weeeellll, you started with the name calling"
"Me?!"
"Uuh, yes"
“When?!”
“P’s birthday party last year”
“We had only known each other for like a month back then. What could I've done to you? I didn’t even talk to you that day."
“Well, it wasn’t TO me, but it was about me.”
You stared at him confused, and he continued.
“A friend of yours asked if you liked F1 and you said hell naw, they’re just a bunch of nepo babies that only know how to spin a wheel” He tried to mimic your voice. You were about to protest but he was right.
“In my defense, that was a private conversation... and the world does not revolve around you, I wasn't talking about you, I was talking about all the drivers"
“We’ll you were at a public party, and that statement doesn't really help your case"
You stared down at the coffee cup between your hands. This was embarrassing. Was all this feud with him your fault? You could have sworn he had started it, damn! You were a hundred percent sure it was his fault.
“Why do you hate us drivers so much?”
“It’s not you, it’s the sport… my ex was a big fan, and it ended up bad with him so..."
"...the breakup wasn't my fault" you quickly added.
"I didn't think it was" He tried to cover a mocking smile with his chocolate cup.
"Yeah, right" You rolled your eyes as a faint smile sneaked from your lips.
"Well, too bad an idiot made you hate us all"
It was seriously embarrassing, you could've sworn you were over the stupid breakup with Evan, but he seemed to still find ways to ruin your life even in an indirect way.
"I ...I'm sorry"
"That's new" He joked
"Don't make me regret saying that"
"Sorry" His big smile was kind of cute.
"But really, I'm sorry I was mean, I should not have projected my breakup on you"
"Well..." He parked in front of your building and turned off the engine. "I'm sorry I was childish and tried to get you to like me by bullying you, I swear I'm out of my 6-year-old phase"
"You wanted me to like you?"
"Yeah, you're my best mate's girlfriend's best friend, so if we're going to see each other so much, we should be best friends too. Also, you're actually nice, you don't have bad taste in music..."
"And I have a gorgeous face... your words, not mine"
The curly hair bounced as he laughed at your comment, and you could swear you saw him blushing.
"And you have a really, REALLY gorgeous face"
"Thanks" You framed your face with your hands in an exaggerated flirty way. "Sooo, drinking and driving is against the law even if it's nonalcoholic, and your house is far enough for your chocolate to get cold by the time you get there, as a peace offering, do you want to come up and finish our drinks in a warmer place?
"That would be nice" He smiled taking off his seatbelt fast, as if he was already waiting for the invitation.
He opened the car door for you and walked behind you, shielding your body from the cold British air. You had been so focused on hating him that you didn`t realize how polite and funny he was. It was like meeting a completely new person.
The elevator dinged, letting you know you had arrived at your floor. As you were about to walk out Lando grabbed your wrist and pulled you back in, making you clash against his chest, almost dropping your drink. He stared into your eyes, searching for any sign that you were uncomfortable. He must've seen the fire in his eyes reflected on yours, so he leaned in to kiss your lips, and you kissed him back.
The arm that held your cup wrapped around his neck as your free hand went to make a fist with his curls, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, and his free hand went to your neck, his fingers keeping a blood-rushing grip on it.
He broke the kiss and gave a soft bite to your lower lip.
"Sorry, couldn't help it" He sheepishly smiled as his hand moved from your neck to caress your cheek. "The sexual tension was killing me"
The elevator dinged again, and you were back down in the lobby. As the door opened, a young couple got on it. A knowing smile on their faces as they said hello.
You pushed the 7th-floor button again and stepped back against Lando's chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You could see the guy looking at the driver attentively.
"Hi, sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?"
"Yes" the Brit answered shyly.
"Damn, big fan, can I take a picture?"
"Sorry mate, I'm with my lady, but I can sign something for you if you want"
"Sure" He took a piece of paper from his wallet as the girl took a pen from her bag. "Thanks so much"
"Sure, mate, thanks for understanding"
The elevator dinged on their floor.
"Don't worry about it, have a good night." The couple exited and you turned to look at Lando as the elevator continued with its journey up.
"Your lady?" You asked with a raised brow.
"It sounds good, doesn't it?" He gave a small peck on your lips.
"I'll have to think about it" The elevator dinged again, and you took his hand, pulling him towards your apartment.
"Wait! Did you do all of this just so you could get inside my pants?" He pulled his shirt together, dramatically covering his chest, as you opened the apartment door.
"You wish." You answered as you pulled him inside.
Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec
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unoislazy · 6 months
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Fucking Brat
Mizu x Reader
Summary: you fuck around, you find out.
Disclaimer; Ray if you read this fic I’m gonna kill you.
Obviously swearing.
A bit heated but no nsfw
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You and Mizu met during one of her many stops, this stop in particular happens to be the town you lived in. Mizu had essentially saved you from being taken by three men who had no regard or respect for your boundaries. From then on, you refused to leave her side, wanting some kind of protection in exchange for really anything Mizu wanted.
Well apparently the one thing off the table was your cooperation.
While traveling together, you and Mizu butt heads constantly. The fact that she had kept you around this long would’ve been a shock to anyone considering how you two talked to each other. You always liked to poke fun at things that she did, situations you came across, anything and everything. Mizu never openly found your jokes or teasing manner all that funny and yet for some reason unbeknownst to you, she kept you around.
You liked to tease her, oftentimes that meant just openly flirting with her despite never getting a reaction. You almost thought it was impossible for her to ever flirt back so you never felt any shame in what you said. She had never truly given you a reason to believe otherwise so you constantly tested her patience.
You had found a place to rest, which this time surprisingly was not in the middle of nowhere in the woods. Due to low funds, you, Ringo, and Mizu all had to share a room but you had agreed to sleep on opposite sides of the room.
Now you sit staring at the woman across from you, the room was extremely quiet given the fact that Ringo was not there. You had your chin resting on your hand as you pouted. Mizu didn’t even need to look up to know that you were staring at her.
“What do you want?” She asked, one of her hands lightly rubbed a cloth on the lense of her glasses to clear them up.
“Am I not allowed to look at you?” You asked in a very sarcastic tone, you knew what you were starting.
“Not when you’re staring, no.” She argued, her voice was low and she didn’t really want to enable you by responding but she couldn’t help herself.
“Why? Are you going to burst into flames if I don’t stop?”
“No, but you’ll lose an eye.” She responded, placing her glasses down on top of her cape which had been folded beside her. She really had no reason to wear them, you already knew two of the secrets she hid.
“Oh, scary.” You mocked, pretending to be trembling in fear. “You know you’d never hurt me.”
“You wanna bet?” She asked, finally looking up at you.
“You’re no fun.” You pouted again, now facing away from her. You didn’t think Mizu would actually ever put you in danger, but honestly you didn’t want to find out either.
“Never said I was.”
“Do you have even the slightest sense of humor?”
“Considering what you think is funny? No.”
You groaned at her response, she was so annoyingly dull and barely ever gave you anything to work off of. Which is why, any chance you’d get, you’d try your best to annoy her and push her to her limit.
“So, Mizu.” You began. The woman didn’t even pay you any mind this time but you knew she was at least still listening. You had slowly begun to make your way next to her, much to her very clear dismay. “Are you always so serious?” You asked despite obviously knowing the answer.
“Only when I’m annoyed.” She answered just as plainly as she had every other time. By now she had already set down her glasses but she still refused to properly look at you.
“You know I feel like our time together would be much more pleasant if you would lighten up a bit.” You jokingly suggested. You didn’t mind her reluctance to give you any sort of answer, sure it was incredibly annoying, but it only made your job more interesting trying to find more intricate ways to go about it.
However, this time Mizu didn’t even answer. She sent you one look and that was it.
“Your eyes are so pretty, it’s too bad that every time you look at me they’re only filled with disdain.” You pouted, still not gaining any response from the woman. Alright fine, if she was going to be boring, you’d have to up your game.
You moved yourself closer to the woman, now sitting beside her
You very carefully moved your hand closer to hers before you muttered,
“You know letting yourself have fun won’t kill you.”
You were persistent, she’d have to hand you that. She had to catch herself at one point, she couldn’t let herself so much as look interested in whatever kind of trouble you were trying to offer. No distractions, that was what she kept herself to, and that’s what she planned on staying with.
Your persistence was beginning to get on her nerves though, not because she didn’t enjoy your useless bickering, oh no it was quite the opposite. It was because she enjoyed it that she was annoyed. She didn’t want to let herself cave in, she had to keep herself from pointless endeavors, no matter how tempting they may have been, and you had tried tempting her on more than one occasion and nearly succeeded.
Why she kept you around if she didn’t want to be distracted was beyond either of you.
“Come on Mizu.” You teased, your hand overlapping hers as you noticed the annoyed look on her face. It wasn’t incredibly noticeable but the way her lips and nose scrunched ever so slightly let you know you were doing precisely what you wanted. Besides, Mizu was no stranger to being blunt, had she not wanted this attention she would’ve stopped you well before this point.
Your hand slowly traveled from her hand, lightly grazing up her arm before landing on her shoulder, you leaned towards her and whispered,
“Let go, just for a little.”
Mizu then swiftly grabbed your arms pulling them off her shoulder and then pinning you down. You hit the ground fast, but it wasn’t a hard enough impact to hurt, if anything it simply shocked you. You weren’t expecting such a sudden outburst, and especially not such a restricting one. Now you were lying beneath her, her lower half straddling you much like you had seen her due to a few others on your travels.
You’d never admit it to her but any time she did this to someone else you silently wished it would have been you, well it seems like you got your wish.
You looked up at her, her breathing wasn’t incredibly heavy but it was noticeable enough, her hands were tightly wrapped around your wrists, they didn’t hurt but it was a bit uncomfortable.
The annoyance she held on her face had become much more noticable, but her eyes held an emotion that you couldn’t quite read.
“Do you ever stop talking?” She asked, obviously not wanting an answer. Your eyes were widened from the sudden shift in attitude before you smirked.
“I think you already know the answer to that.” You joked, earning a scoff from Mizu.
“You think you’re so funny.”
“I know I am.”
“Would you shut up?”
“Make me.” You challenged. The woman whose face was no more than a few mere inches away from your face paused for a moment. She was contemplating something and honestly with the way she acted it could either be that she wanted to slit your throat or make you regret saying that somehow.
You wouldn’t though, you said what you said and you meant it.
“What, you don’t know how too? That’s too bad, I guess you’ll just have to de-“ Before you could finish your snarky remark, Mizu had planted a kiss directly on your lips. It wasn’t a soft loving kiss, it was rough, full of longing, and an annoyance that only you could be the blame for. You couldn’t help but melt into it, sure you were trapped underneath her so there was not much else you could do but you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t something you wanted to come out of your shameless flirting.
She shifted a bit on top of you, her legs were firmly planted on either side of your waist keeping her still. She was still holding your hands down but not as tightly as she had been, one of them slowly moved down your arm as she deepened the kiss.
While this wasn’t exactly what you were expecting from Mizu, you weren’t complaining. If anything you just expected, “you’re so annoying leave me alone.” And to call it a day, but clearly that’s not where you were going to leave this off.
As flirty and unflustered you wanted to act about this situation, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last that long. Your heart was pounding rapidly, you shifted your legs a bit uncomfortably underneath her, trying to readjust yourself.
Seeing as this wasn’t the outcome you were expecting you didn’t know where to go from here, you truly didn’t believe you’d get this far.
After some time Mizu finally released from the kiss, lifted off of you only to return back to the position she had been in before where she was a few inches away from your face. Once she had lifted from you, you both sat in silence for a moment before she let out,
“God you’re such a fucking brat.” She practically growled. You stared at her, your eyes widening even the slightest bit as you felt your stomach do a backflip. You had never felt that way with anyone so feeling it now with her was a discovery you had not planned on making at this specific point in time.
As funny as you might have thought this situation was before this point, You had pushed her to the limit and now you were dealing with the consequences of it.
You weren’t complaining either.
She continued to hold you in place despite you making no real effort to move away from her, not like you could even if you tried. You both sat there, inches away from each other, just staring at each other. Her eyes were filled not with annoyance like you expected them to be but… amusement. She was enjoying this just as much as you were.
Seemed like she was willing to partake in a distraction after all.
Your reluctance to make another joke at her expense after saying what she did didn’t go unnoticed by Mizu. A smirk slowly made its way onto her face as she scoffed, “That's what gets you to shut up?” She asked rhetorically.
She wasn’t wrong, you hadn’t said anything since then and honestly it embarrassed you. You had so many good lines but that one thing made you shut down almost completely. It felt almost as if the whole reality of the situation came running into you full force.
You were laying under Mizu as she straddled you, and you got yourself into that position by annoying her until she wanted to make you shut up. If this was anyone’s fault, it was your own.
“Nothing to say now?” She mocked in a way similar to how you had originally. You didn’t know what to say and all you could do was just stare at her. What does one say in this position?
“Where did this come from?”
Finally you had at least managed to get a few words out.
Mizu leaned forward, her lips gently brushing against your ear as she whispered,
“From you testing my patience.”
With that the feeling had come back yet again. She knew what she was doing and you really couldn’t complain, not like you would anyways.
“Not so brave when you have no power.” She continued to tease, a very knowing smirk stayed plastered on her face before she had neared your face once again. You could see it in her eyes that she had gotten some sort of idea and you hadn’t a clue in the world what it could’ve been.
“Since you feel it so necessary to speak all the time,” She began, pushing your wrists together so you could grab them with one hand, the now free hand was now gently placed on your chest.
“Why don’t you say out loud what you want to come from this, and we’ll see how lucky you get.”
Her eyes were staring into yours, suddenly you felt as if you never wanted to speak again. Sure this wasn’t what you planned but it was still what you wanted, and yet you felt an odd sense of stage fright.
It was only you two, no one else. Ringo had been off gathering items which often took him up to an hour, Taigen had been left behind yet again after trying to get Mizu to duel him for the millionth time. There was no one else but you and her and an empty room.
“I want…” You began, earning an expectant gaze from Mizu. She was being surprisingly patient for someone who seemed to really want to drag you off the pedestal you pretended to put yourself on sometimes. As you tried to express whatever it was you wanted, her hand slowly made its way from your chest and up to gently cup your face,
“You don’t know, do you?”
It was as if she read your mind, or just paid attention to the fact you couldn’t figure out how to answer. You shook your head, you didn’t want to admit to her that you had been bluffing throughout your flirts but it seems like that wall was wearing thin either way. You were surprised it even took this long to begin with, you had been bluffing from the get go, but now that you were actually face to face with the extremely attractive woman who you’ve said multiple things you might have wanted to take back, you didn’t know what to do or say until it finally clicked,
“All of you. I want all of you.” You finally answered. It wasn’t the answer your originally intended but it was an answer nonetheless.
“Not exactly what I was referring to, but it’s ambitious, I like it.” She admitted. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed before she leaned down yet again and whispered,
“Let’s see how much you can handle.”
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impala-dreamer · 3 months
Text
Carrion
A Supernatural Story
~He always was The One, and no matter what, Y/N couldn't deny him...~
Demon!Dean x F!Reader, Sam Winchester
3,018 Words
Warnings: Angst. Injury. Demonic Fuckery
Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works
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“You really think you can do this?” 
His voice was deeper than she remembered, echoing slightly off the concrete walls. His smug laugh punched her in the gut and Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, desperate to pull up her best poker face. Not that it would matter; he could always call her bluff.
“Actually, yeah,” she replied as calmly as she could. “I think we already have.”
He offered a smirk; pearly white teeth peeking out like fangs from behind his ruddy lips. “You can’t cure what I got, Sweetheart.” He blinked and the demonic darkness appeared, flooding the green and taking away everything that was Dean. “Besides, I don’t wantcha too.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Didn’t ask for it, don’t want it. Thanks but no thanks.” He dipped his chin and Y/N shook her head at him, pulling up a smile. 
“Well, I didn’t ask to spend my summer chasing you around the country with your half-crazed brother, but...we get what we get.” Turning her back on him, she pulled the second syringe of consecrated blood from the pack and uncapped the needle. Dean held her gaze as she walked to him, blood in hand, ready to proceed. He visibly cringed when she stopped by his left arm and batted her lashes sarcastically at him. “And don’t call me ‘Sweetheart’, dick.” 
She could have been kinder, gently pressed the needle into his forearm, but he’d been riling her up for the better half of an hour, and it felt good to stab something, even if it was Dean. 
He grit his teeth and tried to hold in the scream, but the blood burned in his veins, making his body shake with fever and pain. It exploded through him; holy acid to wash away the demon. 
When the blood was gone, Y/N pulled back and bit her tongue as he convulsed, trying not to panic. It was almost the same as when Sam had done the first round, but something was different. Dean didn’t seem to fight it as hard, losing the battle against his scream a bit sooner. It rang loud through the dungeon and her heart broke for the man she used to love. 
Hissing and panting, Dean regained a fraction of composure and cracked his neck loudly. “That is… fucking uncomfortable,” he grit. 
“Is it?” she asked, trying to sound uncaring and above him. “Good.” 
With a huff, he stilled, eyes blinking back to familiar green. The forest called to her, but Y/N kept her distance. 
“Why’s that good? You suddenly enjoy torturing your friends?” 
The word cut like a hot knife through her heart and Y/N flinched. 
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dean said with a pout. “Friend. Hurts, doesn’t it?” 
She licked her lips and squared her shoulders, refusing to let him win. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but do us both a favor and shut the fuck up.” She popped the P and turned on her heel, hiding the hurt in her eyes. He knew just what he’d done, knew how that word hurt her, knew why. 
“Oh, come on, Y/N/N,” he teased; the clench in his jaw giving away the pain he still felt. “Don’t leave me now, we’re just getting started!”
A bottle of holy water stood on the table next to her and Y/N grabbed it, flipping the cap as she spun back around, splashing his freckled face with the blessed liquid. His flesh sizzled and steam filled the air around him as he yelled. 
“Fucking bitch!” 
The bass in his voice made her shiver and Y/N backed away quickly. 
Dean gasped and shook himself. Demon versus human, battling for the cracks in his soul. “You can throw holy water at me all you want, but it ain’t gonna change nothing.” 
Y/N pressed her palms into the table, holding herself steady. She refused to look at him, keeping her eyes on the tools at her disposal. “Yeah, but it’s fun.” Her voice cracked and she shut her eyes, hating the tremor in her lips. 
“You can’t do it,” he went on, mocking her, tempting her. “You love me too damned much.” 
Her heart nearly stopped and Y/N sucked in a shocked breath. Her spine stiffened but she clung to the table edge, trying to stay calm.
“Yeah, there it is.” Dean laughed. “Love. The ultimate ‘fuck you’, isn’t it?” Testing the ropes again, he twisted his wrists and shifted a bit in the seat. “When you fall in love, you’re vulnerable. Your priorities change, your brain stops working the way it should. It’s a liability: love.”
“Are you ever going to shut up?” 
Dean smirked, knowing he was getting to her. “It’s a shame, really. You used to be a good hunter. Not great, mind you, but good. Competent. But then something happened. You let yourself fall in love, and that’s when it all went down hill, didn’t it?” 
Y/N grit her teeth and took a deep breath; nails digging into the table. 
“Your mind started playing tricks on you,” he continued, slowly drawing out her emotions, enjoying watching the muscles in her back tense, the color change in her cheeks. “It wasn’t just fun, harmless flirting after a while, was it? You fell and you fell hard. Started thinking what we had was more than we did. You let yourself dream of a future with me, let yourself believe it as if anything could really happen between us.” 
His laugh was cruel and Y/N closed her eyes, begging the tears to stay back. 
“Honestly, I just felt bad for you,” he said simply. “The last two times we fucked, it was just out of pity. Well, and to shut you up. Sad thing is, Sam always kinda had a thing for you.” He leaned forward as her eyes turned to him. “Guess you picked the wrong Winchester,” he whispered, the devil on his tongue. 
“Fuck you,” she snapped, tossing the bottle at him once more. The bulk of the wave barely reached him, but what did shut him up, searing his skin and making him groan painfully. 
“Wanna know a secret?” he asked, out of breath and exhausted. “When I get out of this chair, I’m going to rip your heart out and stomp on it.” Again, he broke into a sick laugh. “How’s that for love?”
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Y/N slammed the door behind her, but she could still hear his cackling. It dug into her bones, twisted and churned inside of her like a wayward curse. She took a moment, pressing her back to the wall, letting the cold of the tile seep into her flesh. 
With her eyes closed, the tears fell, a silent betrayal of her strength. Everything he’d said was true; nothing they didn’t both know, but to hear it from him, to feel the disdain in his tone, it was gutting. 
“You OK?” 
Sam dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder and Y/N looked up, blinking away the tears. 
“Yeah,” she lied, clearing her throat. “Just needed a moment.” 
Sam nodded thoughtfully. “He’s getting to you, huh?” 
She looked away, eyes following the lines in the tile towards his old room. The room they’d carried his body to, the room they’d found empty just hours later. 
“Nah.” She wiped at her cheeks, slapping the wetness away. “Just hot in there. Did you get a hold of Cas?”
Sam sighed. “Yeah, but he’s…” 
She looked up expectantly. 
“He’s on his way.”
Y/N pulled in a deep breath and let her shoulders fall. She rolled her neck and set her jaw, ready for more. “Alright then. Backup’s on its way- let’s do this.” 
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She hung back, hiding in the shadows around the edges of the room while Sam took the lead. Dean had a field day with his brother, taunting him in ways she couldn’t have dreamt up in her darkest imagination, slowly chipping away at Sam’s resolve. 
Sam stood strong through it all, fighting back when he couldn’t hold it in anymore, standing tall through each of Dean’s lies and verbal jabs. 
When he couldn’t break Sam, Dean turned his eyes to Y/N, following her slow trek around the perimeter, surely counting each heartbeat that pounded in her chest when he smiled so slickly at her. She refused to answer his catcalls, never took a step closer, skirting the walls like a thief in the night, hidden and silent, waiting, watching. 
The next dose of blood was worse than the last. 
Y/N turned her face as Dean screamed, his blood boiling, his body convulsing in pain as the cure worked on him. His voice was deafening and Y/N pressed her forehead against the stone wall, hoping the chill would calm her soul. bly shaking, Sam walked away, leaving her alone once more with the demon. 
Dean was gasping, head down resting on his chest, eyes closed, shoulders shaking. 
Y/N took a step into the light. 
“Dean?” 
He didn’t respond, had no snappy words to break her heart with. He tried to lift his head, but his body was too weak. “Is that- that all you got?” he chuckled, expelling just enough breath to make a sound. 
Y/N grabbed the Demon Knife from the table and moved closer, stepping into the circle. “Dean, look at me.” Worry laced her words and he did his best to oblige. His head rolled to the side but he managed a pathetic smile. 
“What, you gonna slice me open now?” 
“What? No. Shit.” She tossed the knife back onto the table and went to him, stopping at arm's length. “Are you OK?” 
His breath was shaky, shallow but heavy; she could see it in the quick rise and fall of his thick chest. “No. I’m not OK. I’m-” His eyes rolled back for a second and his face contorted with pain. “I think I’m dying.” He let out a sad laugh at that. “Again.” 
“You’re not dying.” Y/N held her breath as he coughed badly, a trickle of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Shit.”  
Dean’s tongue darted out to lick away the blood and he shook his head, grinning righteously at her. “See? You’re fucking killing me with this- this cure.”
“We’re saving you.” 
Dean spat at her feet; a tiny puddle tinged with pink. “Agree to disagree.” 
Y/N shook her head. “Did you really think we wouldn’t come save you? Did you think we’d just let you run around killing people, dropping bodies wherever you went?”
“Hey, most of those were demons,” he corrected, shifting in his seat. His lips twitched as a sharp pain struck his spine. 
“Whatever.” Y/N stepped back and jumped up to sit on the edge of the table, swinging her feet above the Devil’s Trap. “We looked everywhere for you.”
Dean looked up at her through thick lashes. “No one asked you to save me. I left for a reason.” 
“Crowley tricked you.” 
“Crowley didn’t do shit. I left. Me. I chose to leave.”
Y/N crossed her arms, shook her head. “No.” 
“No?” His laugh was cut short by a pained grunt and his body twisted from the middle. “I could have stayed. Coulda come running down the hall screaming your name. Y/N, I’m alive!” He winced and clenched his jaw. “But no. I left. Take the hint.” 
“You’re being cruel,” she whispered, lip trembling. “This isn’t you.” 
“You don’t know me, you...pathetic…” Pain gripped him tight, strangling his words, his breath. “You- pathetic...cun-” He screamed again; his entire body clenched until his limbs shook. His face turned bright red and Y/N watched his struggle, green eyes flickering to black and back again too quickly for her to count how many times.
“Dean?” Her feet hit the floor.
No breath, no movement, not even a scream. 
“Dean!” She shook his shoulder, uncaring of the danger. “Come on, dammit!” She touched his cheek and Dean sucked in a deep breath. 
“Y/N?” His throat was raw, his voice soft. He looked up with clear, wet eyes filled with fear. “Help me.” 
His plea tugged at her heart but she took a step back, her hand dropping from his face. “What?” 
He swallowed hard, cringing at the pain of it. “Please,” he begged, panting and weak. “Please, you have to help me. This-the blood is killing me. Please, Y/N/N.”
Y/N screwed her eyes shut tight and shook herself. “No. I can’t.” 
He coughed again, hard; the echo rang in her head. “I’m-I’m so sorry.” 
Tears were back in her eyes and she struggled to ignore them, to push aside the tightness in her chest, the guilt. “What? What are you saying?” 
He looked up, eyes just as wet as hers. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean anything I said before. It’s… I can’t…” He lost his breath, choking on nothing, on the weight of his choices. “Help me.” 
A single tear slipped down his cheek and Y/N reached out to catch it, brush it away. Her palm lay flush against his skin and Dean leaned in towards her touch, closing his eyes as the small taste of comfort wrapped around him. 
“I need you,” he whispered, lips barely moving. 
Y/N broke, falling to her knees in front of him, her hand still holding his face, thumb swiping away at another tear as it trickled down. “I’m here, Dean. I’m going to help you. We’re going to save you, I promise.” 
He nodded gently and a soft smile pulled at his raw lips. “I know.” 
Both eyes were wet now and Y/N pushed up on her knees, cradling both his cheeks, holding him lovingly. 
“I think it’s working,” she said with a hopeful smile. “Dean… you’re crying. You’re… I think it’s working. Do you feel different? Anything?” 
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “I-I think so.” Green eyes opened, locking on hers. “I love you, Y/N,” he said suddenly, his face twisting with familiar guilt. “I’m so sorry I never said it before, but I do. I always have.” 
Of the million things she thought he’d say, that wasn’t even in the top thousand. Her heart swelled, the tightness in her chest lifted just a tiny bit. “I…”
Dean dropped his chin and his forehead brushed against hers. She shivered and leaned up closer, unconsciously reaching for his lips. 
“I love you too, Dean.” 
The kiss was slow, soft, full of pain and apology. Y/N held onto him, refusing to let go as they struggled to breathe around the kiss, their mouths hungry for each other. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, Y/N came alive, something deep inside of her sizzling like water in a pan. 
“I need you, Y/N,” he said again, breath hot on her cheek. “Please.” 
Her mind in a fog, Y/N climbed into his lap, knees pressing into the small space beside his hips. She kissed him like it was the first time and the last all rolled into one; excited and sad, scared and aroused. Her fingers tugged through his hair, marveling at the length, using her grip to turn his face where she needed. 
She moaned his name as his tongue traced the shell of her ear, teeth scraping the tender dangling flesh at the end. “God, I missed you…”
Dean bit down on her shoulder and bucked his hips, sending Y/N into a frenzy. She closed her eyes and rolled her hips over him, grinding down on the hardness growing in his jeans. “Fuck.” 
“Untie me,” he whispered, “just one hand and I can make you feel so good, Y/N, please.” 
Her head was swimming, blood singing with lust and love. “I… no, I can’t.” 
He licked at her pulse, sucked a heavy kiss against her throat. “Please, baby,” he growled, “just one.” 
He bit down a little too hard and Y/N snapped out of the spell, the clouds lifting from her mind. “Wait. No! Fuck!”
She sat back and Dean grinned devilishly. 
“Ya know what?” he said, cracking his neck, “I don’t need your help. I think I can get it myself…”
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When Sam returned, the door was open. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, he walked in, breath instantly halting as he saw the empty chair, its broken arm, the frayed ropes. 
Dean was gone. 
Sam rushed inside and fell to his knees. Y/N lay at the foot of the chair, clothes torn and hair a mess. 
“Y/N!” He reached for her, carefully turning her onto her back. She was breathing but barely, her face and throat splattered with blood. “No, no, no…” 
Her eyes fluttered open and she pulled in a heavy breath. “Sam-”
“Hey. Hey, it’s OK. I got you.” 
She shook her head and winced as she tried to sit up. Pain spread through her body from the top down and she grit her teeth, trying to stay strong. “He tricked me. He’s…you have to stop him.”
Sam huffed out a deep breath. “I will. I promise.” 
Dean’s voice echoed through the halls and they both turned, fear shrouding their faces. “Come on, Sammy. Wanna hang out with your big brother? A little quality time?”
Y/N shuddered. “Go. Hurry.” 
Sam grabbed the Knife from the table as he ran off, leaving Y/N to pull herself together. 
She stood slowly, every inch of her aching where his fists had landed; not a part of her left unmarred by his attack. Her chest burned as she moved and Y/N pressed a hand to the letters he’d carved into her skin, a lesson, a warning, a horrid joke she could never forget. 
L O V E
“It’s a liability,” he said, rounding off the O with the tip of the knife. He held her down, arms pinned beneath his knees, throat closing under his fist. “I warned you…” 
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2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)@akshi8278 @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05   
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shouldershimmycity · 2 years
Text
Pour Some Sugar on Me (Rooster x Reader)
“How would you feel about a reserved all business pilot reader in TOP GUN with Rooster but he picks at her saying she doesn’t let loose and have fun so she shows up at his house to strip tease out of her flight suit to pour some sugar on me by Def Leppard don’t ask me where that came from I was listening to that song and that popped in my head 😂”
“Oh my god AHAHAHA, can I make it so that they're all at the bar when she does? I feel like that would be mad funny. Also I love that song, I call it my unofficial official stripper song so like I'm totally down.”
Requested by @kp9983
I tried so hard hahaha, I loved this idea so much. I have zero shame and zero regrets.
*****
“YOU SHAKE MY NERVES AND YOU RATTLE MY BRAIN– TOO MUCH LOVE DRIVES A MAN INSANE– YOU BROKE MY WILL– BUT WHAT A THRILL– GOODNESS, GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”
The bar was full of voices as Rooster, as per usual, was leading everyone and playing the Bradsahw’s signature song on the piano. Everyone was crowded around him, belting the words, but not you. There was no doubt that your head was bobbing along, your booty wiggling on the barstool, but you were planning practice mission strategies on a napkin.
You were a woman who needed to get stuff done when it was assigned to her, it was just in your nature. You needed answers to bigger questions and you needed them ASAP, no time to waste. That being said, when you weren’t busy, you were the life of the party. Many members of your previous squadron could testify to that. But being that you were almost always busy, it was hard for some people to see that side of you.
Looking up, you focused on a certain mustache making its way over to you. And some people just wouldn’t let it go. 
The truth is, you liked Rooster a lot, like… like liked him. He was tall, handsome, funny, muscular, what else would anyone want? Sadly, you were a little out of the loop with him because you were cripplingly shy, and only around him. Resisting the urge to shrink into the barstool, you remained cool when you felt him walk up behind you.
“What? No singing, Breezy?” Rooster asked in mock surprise.
“Not tonight, I’m working out these strategies for the mission practice,” you mumbled to yourself. Little teeth marks covered the pencap where you had been gnawing on it, deep in thought. 
“Why am I not surprised? Don’t you ever stop working?” Rooster criticized. 
“Mmmmm..no,” you answered, only half listening. Then the pen was lifted out of your hands, and you looked over at the pilot next to you in annoyance.
“I think I know what your problem is now,” he mused, lowering his voice for only you to hear, “you don't know how to have fun.” He wore a smug smirk as he flicked the pen between his fingers, raising an eyebrow at you. He was teasing you, but you knew how to poke back. 
“Ha! Yeah, Rooster,” you snorted, “I don't know how to have fun.” You mocked him in a dopey tone. 
“Who says you don’t know how to have fun?” Phoenix asked, sitting down in the empty seat next to you. 
“Rooster,” you answered, glaring at him. This only added to his shit eating grin. Phoenix’s eyes widened, and you were worried they might just pop out of her head.
“What?! You are so fun! How can you say that, Rooster?” Trace asked, astonished at his accusation. He laughed sarcastically, gesturing to you in general.
“Because, Phoenix, look at her! She’s sitting at a bar, doodling flight plans. She didn’t even change out of her flight suit for fucks sake!” Rooster pointed out everything he saw wrong with you at that moment, and it kinda hurt, “I’ll believe it when I see it, Trace.”
Something inside you was so crushed and irked at the fact that he believed you were a boring, uptight person. On the one hand, you wanted to leave him be because you didn’t need to prove anything to Rooster.
On the other hand you wanted to make him eat his words, shit eating grin and all. He dropped your pen and strolled away, and you turned to Penny, who was giving out drinks to customers left and right.
“Penny, my dear?” you asked sweetly as soon as you were sure Rooster couldn’t hear.
“Yes Breezy? What can I do for you?” she smiled politely.
“Can I do something stupid on your bar top to make a man eat his words?” you asked, your own shit eating grin filling your face.
Penny raised an eyebrow, as did Phoenix, but you just winked at them. 
“Go for it,” Penny shrugged, curiosity giving in over every other urge to say no. Might bring more customers, who knows. 
“I’ll need one shot first, if you don’t mind,” you requested, putting a one hundred dollar bill on her bar, “I’m sure there’s a bet going on behind my back that I’m about to win, so keep the change.” 
Penny poured you a shot, which you took casually. You sauntered over to the jukebox and plugged it back in. The music came on through the speakers and you chose the perfect song, a smirk on your face as you glanced over at Rooster, who was sniggering about something or other. Probably your lack of personality.
You were shy when it came to Rooster, but you would be damned if you let someone call you boring. He was like a boy who teased someone because he had a crush on them, but you were a grown woman. Thanking your past self for wearing something nice under your flight suit today, you set the song into the queue and walked away. 
Suck on this, Birdboy. 
*****
Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback were all chatting about dumb shit they did in flight school while sweet Bob sat in the corner. I Love Rock ‘N Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts ended from the jukebox, and that's when your song started up. Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard.
Step inside, Walk this way, 
You and me babe, Hey hey!
Coyote started coughing, choking on his drink. Bob’s eyes widened, and Hangman practically shouted.
“What the fuck…” Hangman trailed off, surprised but evident delight filling his expression.
Rooster raised an eyebrow and turned to face the bar where they were all looking. You stood on top of the bar, looking Rooster dead in the eyes, hips swaying slightly to the music as the song started up. 
Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on, 
Livin' like a lover with a radar phone–
You strutted down the counter like it was a runway, earning some cheers and whistles. The hair tie that had kept your hair all neat was now removed, and you shook your waves out, hair now framing your face. 
Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp, 
Demolition woman, can I be your man?
Looking around the place, you saw other pilots, just as delighted as Hangman to witness what was going on on Penny’s bar top. That was the only confidence boost you needed.
Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light
Television lover, baby, go all night
Your fingers pulled the zipper of your flight suit down to your navel and you pulled the top of it off your shoulders, seductively showing off the white button up t-shirt you had on underneath.
You knew there wasn’t a man or woman in the room who didn’t have their eyes on your breasts, which were pushed up by the nicest lacey black bra you had, and on show from the lack of done up buttons. 
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet
Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah
The sleeves of your flight suit dropped, freeing your arms. Your suit was now being worn like a pair of pants. Arms raised above your head, you started moving your hips back and forth in a more confident motion, your entire body swaying with the motion.
Now c'mon, take a bottle, shake it up
Break the bubble, break it up
Your eyes wandered over to Rooster, and you almost doubled over with laughter at his face. The man’s jaw was slack with shock, and he was sweating. Next to him, the boys were whooping, Hangman was whistling, and even Bob was clapping. 
Pour some sugar on me
Ooh, in the name of love
You would give Rooster something to look at, since he couldn't stop staring at your hips.
Pour some sugar on me
C'mon, fire me up
Pour your sugar on me
I can't get enough
You grabbed a pipe that was poking out from the ceiling, and hooked your thumb in your flight suit, pulling it down a little, now swinging your hips in circles. You were acutely aware that the hip of your matching panties were being flaunted, while you mouthed along to the words. You received a good number of whistles from the crowd for that one. 
I'm hot, sticky sweet
From my head to my feet, yeah
You ran your other hand down your body, your hand traveling over your hips. Whoops filled the bar from everyone but Rooster, who was too involved in thinking about scenarios in which his hands were there instead.
You ran the tip of your tongue against your front teeth, and you had no idea but that was the thing that drove Rooster wild all the time. He almost choked on his beer like Coyote did earlier.
Listen, red light, yellow light, green-a-light go
Crazy little woman in a one man show
Successfully having turned on every human being in the bar, and short circuiting Rooster, you had fun with it. A little air guitar here, a beer bottle microphone there, you were a performer in another life.
When the song ended, there wasn’t a person in the bar who didn’t cheer or whistle. You neglected any help off the counter, and slid off, black boots hitting the ground. You looked over at Penny, who was nodding in approval and Phoenix who looked like she was deceased from laughing. 
“What’s so funny?” you asked, your grin wider than ever now.
“This,” Trace said, flipping her phone to you. You took a good long look at the immortalized image of Rooster, frozen in shock and dare you say turned on. The laugh that left you was loud enough for the whole bar to hear. Phoenix flipped to a picture of you dancing on the bar and you could tell why he was making that face.
Your flight suit hung low on your hips, showing off your curves and just a little of the panties you had bravely flaunted. Your skin was slightly sweaty and dear god did that bra do wonders for your breasts. You were giving fuck me eyes, and damn if you could you would have fucked yourself. 
You looked over at the man in the picture, who was now drinking his beer quietly, still processing what he just witnessed and smirked in silent victory. Excusing yourself from Phoenix’s company, you strutted over to Rooster who almost fell over when he saw you. 
“A-Are you gonna… put that back on?” he said, his voice strained. You raised an eyebrow, you were absolutely flirting now. 
“Why Lieutenant? Does this bother you?” you put your hands on your hips, puffing out your chest ever so slightly. Rooster couldn’t help but look down, and did he just lick his lips? 
“Okay, okay, I get it now,” he said, drawing it out, unable to tear his eyes from your chest, “I’ll never call you boring again…”
He finally looked back up as you leaned in close to his ear, whispering only for him to hear.
“Do you, uh, think you’d need any more demonstration?” you asked him suggestively. After the show you just put on, there was no shyness left in you. You made those fuck me eyes again, and Rooster stared back at you.
The hand that was holding his beer bottle shifted nonchalantly to cover his crotch, obviously self conscious of, ahem, something.
I think it was safe to say that Rooster never found you boring again. 
*****
Thank you again, @kp9983 for the suggestion!
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lees-chaotic-brain · 5 days
Text
𝙵𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 (𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 𝙼𝙸𝚈𝙰 𝚇 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁)
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summary: he overhears your friend saying something unkind
wc: 1.5k (oops this was supposed to be a drabble)
cw: mild swearing, reader has adhd, stigma against adhd
haikyuu masterlist | blog navigation
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“...What makes you think I wouldn’t lose it? I have the worst case of ADHD anyone has ever seen, you seriously think I’d be able to keep track of it?”
Your lighthearted laughter as you teased your friend floated over the din of the cafe as Osamu entered it, there to pick you up. Unable to tamp down his lovesick smile at the sound of your voice, he immediately perked up when he spotted you and began heading over to where you were sitting with your friends.
You had a little bit of trouble controlling your volume, so he had been able to hear what you were saying earlier, but since then you had gone weirdly quiet. But as he made his way over to you, he became close enough to catch the tail end of what your friend said in response.
“...I mean come on. You can’t just blame everything on your ADHD. Like, when are you going to actually take responsibility for your problems instead of using it as an excuse as if half the population doesn’t have it?”
He didn’t have to see your face to know what your expression looked like. Just like every other time someone said something shitty like that to you, he knew that the hurt would only show on your face for a moment before morphing into a sarcastic and uncaring mask.
“I’m sorry, what?” Your voice had lost its boisterous joy from moments ago, and that alone made him want to storm over there and tear that girl a new one. Unfortunately he was well aware of the fact that you preferred to fight your own battles, and loathed feeling like you needed some man to come in and defend your feelings.
“I’m just saying.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “You’re so put together, and one of the most intelligent people I know. When are you going to stop using your ADHD as an excuse for your terrible work ethic?”
While the first part of what she said sounded deceptively nice, the hidden connotations in the barbed sentence did not go over his head, so it most certainly did not go over yours. Remembering all of the nights he spent holding you as you cried because someone had called you lazy, or told you that you could do it if you just tried, he made a mental note to himself to remind you of how amazing you are every day. As if he didn’t already.
“Wow.” Your voice had taken on a mocking, almost cruel tone. While most people overhearing would think you’re just being really nasty, he knew better. This was how you protected yourself. You pretended you didn’t care and mocked the person for their ignorance, then went home and asked him to hold you until your heart stopped hurting and the voices in your head stopped talking.
You took a slow, leisurely sip of your drink, before slamming the cup back onto the table with more force than necessary. “For someone who claims to have undiagnosed ADHD, you sure don’t know anything about it. Just so you don’t embarrass yourself in the future by spewing more bullshit like this, let me give you a few pieces of information.”
Leaning back in your chair, you began ticking off items on your fingers as you spoke. 
“One. Telling someone with ADHD to “just focus” is like telling a person with glasses to just see better. We want to, but we can’t.” You level a pointed look at her glasses and Osamu notes with satisfaction that her face is beginning to get flushed with embarrassment. You continue.
“Two. A lot of people with ADHD are actually insanely smart. They have to be. People in classes like ours who have ADHD and struggle with paying attention and staying on task need to be intellectually gifted to survive in school. It’s the only way they can keep up. Which brings us to point three.”
The overly sweet smile you give your so-called “friend” tells him that you’re about to say something you’ll regret later, but he can’t bring himself to stop you because anyone who hurt your feelings deserved what was coming for them. If that made him a bad boyfriend then he didn’t really care. He would just comfort you later and tell you that you aren’t a bad person for putting a judgemental asshole in their place.
“Point three: don’t go around telling people that you have undiagnosed ADHD. Like I said before, people with ADHD typically need to be smarter than the others in their class to keep up, especially in an engineering major. Which is exactly why no one is going to believe you. Frankly, you’re just not smart enough. You’re barely hanging on as it is. If you really did have ADHD you would have flunked out by now.”
Checking the time on your phone you gathered your stuff and stood up. “Sorry. My boyfriend is probably here by now. Although, something came up. I think you’ll need to find your own ride back. Sorry.”
Surveying the area where you had sat, you double checked to make sure you had everything, pausing and looking back over your shoulder just as you were about to leave.
“Oh, and by the way.” You shoot her a saccharine smile. “I really appreciate you thinking that I’m really put together. Unlike my intelligence, that’s all an act, so I’m really flattered that you thought that about me. It means a lot.”
With that, you turned and came face to face with your boyfriend's chest, nearly falling on your ass. One of his arms wound around your waist, pulling you against him and keeping you upright while the other snagged your bag and threw it over his shoulder.
“Samu?!” You look up at him in surprise and he just smirks and guides you out of the restaurant. Once you’re in the privacy of his car, you speak again. “...How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough to hear the bullshit she spewed.” You look down, pretending to pick at your nails, but he knows you’re just trying to hide the tears welling in her eyes. 
“I really thought she was my friend.” Your voice is quiet and watery, completely different from the one you used with your friend just seconds ago in the cafe. “Maybe she’s right. I was probably too mean to her. I apologize to her-”
He was going to let you apologize, knowing that nothing he said would take away the guilt clawing at your insides, but then he saw the contact name.
“Her??” He pointed incredulously at the contact name. “The girl in there was her?? The one who was super mean to ya last year? I thought ya said ya weren’t friends with her anymore!”
Flushing, you tilt your phone away from him. “Well, I didn’t want you to worry. She got nicer, I swear.”
His eyes narrow. “Uh-huh. And what she said to ya back there definitely reflects just how much she’s changed.”
With a quick stretch of his arm, he snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into his pocket, fending you off with one arm as he started the car and pulled out, causing you to cease your physical attempts at reclaiming your phone.
“Osamu Miya!! You give that back!! It’s not up to you who I’m friends with, and whether or not I apologize!”
“I know that.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road. “I just don’t like seeing ya sad. And yer always sad when yer friends with assholes like her.”
“Oh, Samu…” Your voice softens and you take his free hand in your own. “I’ll be okay. Really. Honestly she’s probably trying to help me. She just wants me to fix what’s going on-”
“That’s exactly what I mean!” His knuckles turn white with how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, but his grasp of your hand is nothing but gentle. “There’s nothing wrong with ya! She says shit like that and you believe her! Yer perfect the way you are, and I hate that you spend time with people who make you feel less than that! I don’t care who yer friends with. I just want them to treat you well. The way ya deserve.”
You deflate, your grip on his hand tightening and he sees you wiping your eyes out of his peripheral. “I know. I know you're right. Can we just...talk about this later? I just want to be sad right now."
'"Of course we can babe. We don't have to talk about it at all if you don't want to. I'm just not letting you apologize to her because she doesn't deserve it."
You laugh, and the sound does things to his heart. "I love you so much Samu. You know that, right?”
He squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no matter what, the two of you would be okay because you had each other. “I know. And I love ya a million times more than that.”
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taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight
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shroomiewrites · 1 year
Text
If your love burns, dear, set me ablaze || Simon Riley x Reader
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader || 2.5k words || SFW ||
Warnings/tags: Gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort, mentions of animal gore, non-canon backstory, fluff, sprinkle of angst.
Song recommendation: Indigo Night | Tamino
Synopsis: “They asked "do you love her to death?” I said “speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me to life.” | Mahmoud Darwish
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It took Simon Riley 17 days to touch you. 
Not touch in an intimate, sexual way. Touch as in a graze, a brush of the fingertips. Touch as in an even accidental bump or gentle meet of shoulder blades when you sit too close to someone in the train. Touch as in the way his knuckles feathered your hand when he handed you your drink on a night out with friends a few weeks and meetings of your friendly circle after you first met.
It had been surprising to you how a man like him even had any friends in the first place and even more that said friends also happened to be friends of yours, but Manchester could be small and funny like that, you thought. He made a strong first impression on you, never introduced himself, in fact, he almost never talked, not loud enough at least. Not in the way that people who want to be heard spoke, it was always a rather fatigued mutter, voice brittled and seemingly unbothered and unamused by everything around him. His eyes always felt sharp and alert but also… never there. He existed in a plane of his own, haunting conversations and people he didn’t seem to enjoy, like a ghost.
Ghost.
That’s what they called him, he told you one of the first few times you tried some small talk, embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you laughed before realizing that. Oh God. He's not joking. He didn’t seem affected by it, but then again, he never seemed affected by anything at all. Not the way your friends always talked a bit too much, laughed a little too loud, got a tad too drunk and touched him way too much. He never complained tho, no one could even tell he was bothered by it unless they noticed the slight twitch of his eyes in annoyance as they slapped his shoulder, howling at something he didn’t find remotely funny. You found yourself amused by watching him, like experiencing first hand a cat in the middle of a bunch of golden retrievers. He seemed to notice the way you stared at him for a little too long for it to be just a coincidence. But he never said anything, amused by it too.
Simon, he said his name was one time. You realized how no one ever spoke his name. You thought maybe it pissed him off, but no, not many things pissed him off. He was a surprisingly easy person to be around, not easily ticked off by the stupid jokes or the chaotic antics of your fellow companions. He was a bit skittish and straightforward when he did speak, an acid tint to his sarcastic jokes and monotone timbre. It was actually charming. To your own twisted mind at least. He was also a great listener, another charm of his you noted. He heard you talk for minutes to hours on end, without ever making you feel like you were rambling too much or boring him to death, eyes focused on yours throughout the entirety of whatever gossip or story you felt like he should hear. He secretly enjoyed it a bit too much. Looking forward to your next encounters so he could hear a follow up of something stupid that was happening to someone’s cousin, just to hear your dramatic pauses and mocking interpretations of someone’s voice. He made sure to keep tabs on the names and events, because you always started with a ‘Do you remember-” and he relished the little gleam in your eyes when he repeated back what you told him when you last saw each other with astounding accuracy. 
On the good days, he’d gift you a story of his own. A little tale of his time in the military, sometimes about an operation or mission that he got assigned. Never too many details, just the gist and a little highlight, and you didn’t pry, feeling grateful enough that he felt comfortable to share anything at all. That, and the mysterious aura of his person actually suited the if-I-told-you-I’d-have-to-kill-you way he shared his own experiences with you. You collected them like pieces of the puzzle that made up Simon Riley, celebrating mentally when two distinct strands of information he gave you allowed you to pierce together a slightly fuller picture of who he was, what he liked and what he didn’t. 
He started going back to Manchester often after you two met. He didn’t have much else to go, frankly. His job was his life and when he wasn’t deployed, he felt quite lost in his own head, like it was unknown terrain that he didn’t have coordinates for or a clear strategy. His social life was an even bigger mess, a battlefield is easier to navigate than everyday life. When he was on duty people were blue or red, with him or against. But things got confusing once he didn’t wear a vest anymore and suddenly they were yellow, green, purple… The easy way out? Never strive for more than company. It’s what his body needed, the bare minimum of human connection required for the average person to somewhat function. At least that’s what he told himself. 
His friends – your friends – were people he could tolerate being around and that on rare occasions got a chuckle out of him. But they didn’t mind the mask or that he pretty much only spoke when spoken to. People tend to be a lot easier on those who underperform to their standards, not trying to steal away their spotlight. So he made a social life out of it, walking the noisy streets of his city and drinking bourbon in whatever bar the people he hung out with dragged him into. 
Until you.
You see, when Simon was a kid he found a cat once. Bone thin and wounded. It took a liking to him, to his bruised little hands and puppy eyes that watched the things around him curious and woefully. He found a semblance of comfort in petting the cat, letting it sit on his lap as it purred gently, basking in his warmth. He fed it for a while, gave it food and water as much as he could, given his own difficult circumstances. He watched it regain its strength ever-so-slightly, but even then, he never took it in. Never considered it a friend. Never even gave it a name. It was just a stray cat and he had time and patience, despite the world constantly giving him reasons not to have. Some time later he noticed the food and water were left untouched. Insects crawled on the makeshift bowl he had made out of discarded paper plates and empty tins. He didn’t go after it. Wasn’t his, never was. A few days later he found it on the street near the curb, mashed into the concrete, thick marks of wheels on top of it’s small body, crushed it to death, probably. A weird pang in his chest made him stumble back, the foul smell of rotting flesh filling his nostrils and no matter how long he washed his face after it never left his nose completely, constantly mocking him with the inevitable fate of every living being in existence had to face – the putrid reality of death. The sight before him that day ingrained itself into his young brain, creating roots around his mind and making sure he never forgot it. He couldn’t understand why it hurt that much, why things had to be that way and if he could have done things differently.
It was only years later, after a lot more experience and pain in his life that he finally understood the lesson he was taught that day. That you never start something you’re not ready to finish. He lived by that, built his career on it, his reputation. An operation with his name on it meant an operation carried out, clean, no loose ends. He guaranteed it. The mantra was easy to apply, easy to repeat, gave him comfort and helped him pick his battles right. Never bite more than he could chew, keep his feet on the ground. He repeated it everyday and it helped him improve, strive for more. Not that he was a perfectionist, no. He saw himself as more of a… highly dedicated individual. Committed to the results and the results alone.
He knew something was wrong with him when his mind wandered off to you in the middle of a briefing, or when he laid down in base, staring at the ceiling of his room. He thought about what you were probably doing, if you had any more stories to tell him. He found himself anxious to tell you stories. As he snipped down enemies and dropped down to knife others, a fleeting thought of “I have to tell her about this” made him stop dead in his tracks and physically shake off the alarm sirens that rang in his mind. Everything about you made his brain scream danger. Made him want to run away and close off. And yet, he found himself going back to Manchester, to you. Every. Single. Time.
When his gaze darted down to your reddish lips as you laughed at something he said, while he walked you home after a night out with your friends, and his hands softly brushed a strand of your hair out of your face, breath hitching as you melted into his touch, pressing your cheek further into his palm as you looked at him, fuck, so yearningly he nearly passed out, when you raised your small hands to his cheeks, a surgical black mask covering the bottom half of his face, and you batted your eyelashes at him in permission and he didn’t stop you as you pulled it to his nose and brought his lips to him in a kiss so tender and careful he felt sinless for a moment, that’s when he knew he was beyond the point of no return. 
You attached yourself to his life so seamlessly, so readily, he nearly missed it. He felt like you had always been there. In the early mornings when he woke up from nightmares or plagued by insomnia and he just watched you sleep soundly next to him, not a single wrinkle on your heavenly face as your dreams probably never ended up with you dead. In the afternoon when you danced around the house in only one of his t-shirts, practically a dress to you, and sang loudly, a big smile on your face when you noticed him watching you lovingly from the doorframe, pulling him to your living room as you urged him to join you, laughing at how he pretended to be annoyed at your antics, but he could barely hide the grin that filled his expression whenever you giggled around him, the sound being enough to wash away any worry out of his system and put him at ease. Simon felt his heart burst in euphoria whenever you as much as glanced at him, each touch lighting a fire in him that made him believe in a God just so he could pray for more of you. 
When Simon told you about the cat you cried. Sobbed into his shoulder until you felt dizzy. Not because of the cat itself, although that got into your feelings, but because he’d made a lesson out of it. Punished himself so deeply about something out of his control, had convinced himself so hard that it was his fault, couldn’t stand the guilt that ate him away from losing something that was precious to him when he was far too young to understand what it meant. It physically made your heart ache. The way he shaped his life around it, building walls upon walls until nothing could get in and he couldn’t get out, because it’s easy to avoid the fear of loss when you make it so you don’t have anything to lose. But he failed to realize that it also meant nothing to live for. How he made his life’s purpose to never fail again, beating himself up everytime it inevitably happened. 
His motto hadn't come from a place of efficiency, of a duty well carried. It came from hurt. From the desperation of having so much love to give and nothing to put it into. But he didn’t realize it. Not until you showed him. Not until he saw how you wore your heart on your sleeve, how you poured yourself into every single thing that you did. How everytime you kissed him you had starstruck eyes and a light scarlet tint to your cheeks. How when you made toast you took the time to rotate the pieces of bread slightly in the toaster so the grill marks would make a checkered pattern, simply because it brought you joy. How you always chose to buy the mugs that were chipped or slightly broken, because you said you’d be upset if no one wanted you just because you were slightly imperfect.
God, how far off were you.
To Simon you were perfect. From the tip of your toes to the last strand of hair on your head, to the brightest of your smiles and ugliest of cries when you had to bid him goodbye for another few months. He thought of you every single day, every second possible. He knew that if he lost you, it’d crush him. Irreparably so. Would tear him into pieces until he was just a shell of a man. And yet, he stayed. Dug his grave deeper with every kiss, every hug, every intimate moment you shared together as he felt you clench around him and could swear that he was in paradise. Because it was worth it. He learned that his previous mantra was slightly off, and fixed it into a new one. 
You don’t start things you wouldn’t risk yourself for. 
So he went out and did his job, because protecting people, his teammates, was worth the risk. And he went back to you, tired and sore, but he let you jump on him and squeeze him tightly, let you remove his mask with your delicate fingers, a sigh of relief escaping your lips every time before you got on your tippy toes to press your mouth into his. And he reveled in it. He let you see his face, his body, his soul. He let you see everything of him, the good and the bad. Ask whatever you want to know, take everything from him. He’d rip his heart right out his chest if you begged him once. Because he loved you. Painstakingly, deeply, with enough force to move mountains and start wars, and enough care to sweep the debris and tend to the wounded. Because, by God, loving you was worth the risk. 
For your anniversary you got him a cat. It was the first time you saw him weep. Truly weep. Tears staining his face as his bloodshot eyes rained down on to the carpet, broken whimpers falling from his trembling lips as he sunk to the ground in front of the brightly colored open box. You thought he didn’t want it, that maybe it was too much, too soon. But he assured you it was okay. That it was worth the risk. 
He named her after you.
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A/N: This story has been stuck in my head for a few days now, as I often find myself lost in my thoughts, imagining how a man like Simon might love. Frankly, I like to think it'd be like this. Too deeply for his own good, but, personally, I think that's the best way.
Constructive criticism and feedback are always more than welcome! I hope you enjoyed reading~
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dongfuck · 2 years
Text
Pink Venom - l.dh (Preview)
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pairing: manipulator playboy!donghyuck x fem!reader
fic genre: smut, angst, fluff
teaser warnings: cheating, manipulation
teaser wc: 626
teaser song suggestion: B.S - Jhené Aiko
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“there’s only one person in the whole world that i want; and that’s you y/n. you’re the only one i want.” haechan cupped both of your hands with his palms as he stared into your eyes. bullshit. you wanted to roll your eyes obviously at him but you had to keep your cool so you acted as if you were effected by his ‘confession’. “donghyuck, i… i’m so sorry for accusing you of such things! i-i just didn’t know what got into me… we all know you’re a great guy and would never do anything of the sort. right?” you mocked with fake apologies as you silently hoped that you don’t burst out laughing.
“never. i’m yours and yours only.” he smiled before you smiled back. “you’re mine and mine only.” oh how you wished you could’ve landed a smack right in his face where he holds his smile.
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oh it’s a different girl this time. you were walking to class with your best friend, romi, when you thought you spotted two familiar figures. so, what you did was you shooed romi away and followed them. you followed them until they lead you to… an empty corridor?
you hid next to your twin brother’s locker, jeno, to take a better look at the two. unbelievable. you knew haechan was a cheater, playboy, pervert, but you didn’t know he would go as far as making out with your own lecturer?? you had your jaw hung wide open before you forced yourself to close it shut. you weren’t hurt, you were just shocked. so shocked to the point where you’d almost laugh out loud if it wasn’t for the fact that they would hear you.
you quickly ran to the lecture hall and took the reserved seat next to romi. “you’re late. lucky for you. mrs. huang hasn’t entered yet. quite odd if you ask me. anywho, where’d you go?” romi interrogated. “you wouldn’t believe me if i tell you.” you had an upside down smile on your face as your eyes stood trained on the seat in front of you. “oh come on! is it haechan again?” she groaned and slammed her hands on her thighs. you only nod in response. “oh my god! what did he do this time?! why haven’t you confronted him yet?!”
“oh calm down, mi. it’s not like it’s the first time. but what’s more shocking is that,” you looked around the hall before lowering your voice an octave and turning to face romi. “he was cheating on me with our own lecturer, mrs. huang.” you pulled your head back to maintain distance between the two of you as you laughed at the look on romi’s face. “what the fuck—”
and in that moment, the doors of the lecture hall were pushed open widely before in came mrs. huang as haechan was seen trailing behind her slowly. “speaking of the devil.” you heard your best friend mutter from your left. the said boy walked towards your row of seats before he took a seat next to you and settled down his things. “hey baby.” he leaned down and planted a kiss softly to your lips. “did you start wearing lip balm? tastes like watermelon.” you said sarcastically. you know haechan doesn’t like wearing lip balm.
“haha, yeah i just bought it recently.” he scratched his nape nervously. “you should wear it more often. it suits you.” you landed another peck to his lips before turning to mrs. huang who was busy apologising for being late. with your sharp vision, you can confidently say that you saw smudges of red around her lips and you knew the source.
oh it’s game on lee donghyuck. it’s too late now. i know everything.
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Part one
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uva124 · 6 days
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WRITING RANDOM IDEAS THAT I WANT TO PUT IN MY AU BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW OR I'M NOT SURE :D
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1-Introduction of Haedus , Nembus and Naos:
See this I'm still debating on this because it's the first impressions of my main characters so it's very important, as I said my movie is not intended to be the best Disney movie that commemorates their legacy, no, I don't really have those intentions, in fact my intention is that it also looks like a parody like Enchanted but with touches of the “Princess and the Frog” movie lol, so the beginning I imagine it like the one in the enchanted movie, only Haedus is the “helper” of the random princess I'm going to put around, the little princess is like those classic ones (similar to Snow White), Haedus arrives as if she was a fairy godmother and helps our princess in her journey, we see that Haedus' personality is more joking and is even sarcastic with the princess in a mocking tone, but in between we can see that he is quite kind to her since well, he is literally fulfilling the role of “helper”, he is also accompanied by the two little stars Naos y Nembus and we can appreciate their relationship as brothers. Continuing with the story everything develops as a classic fairy tale, and in the end the prince stays with the princess and blah blah blah, only here comes the mental image that started this:
-Basically the princess and the prince start singing and dancing while the 3 stars watch everything, but Haedus is seen with eyes of boredom as if this is all routine, in even in one scene I imagine that the prince and the princess accidentally make the 2 little ones almost fall down (or something happens to them idk) and Haedus rescues them to proceed to look at the couple with eyes of wanting to kill them internally but tries to smile, and when already the musical number is going on too long, Haedus says:
“Yeah very nice and all, but you can finish now? we have to go -_-”
I'm still struggling to write this, because I still have to establish Haedus' past and how that explains why at the beginning he acts annoying with Asha and how he looks a bit uncomfortable or surprised to be helped for the first time with his siblings.
But with this scene I posit that in all the time Haedus helped the princesses, even though he and his little brothers do everything can to get her happy ending, they in the end seem to just forget about them when her find their prince.
I'm not sure about this either because I also don't want this scene to leave the message that “all princesses are only interested in getting a man” NOP, I don't want to give that message at all. So yeah, probably I'll deleted this escene.
2-The dynamic of Asha and Haedus (or rather their evolution):
This came to me mainly when I was watching tik tok and a scene from the movie “The Little Prince” popped up, and the dialogue goes like this:
“To me you are but a little boy among hundreds of thousands of other children, I don't need you and you don't need me, to you I am just a fox among thousands of other foxes.”
Later….
“For me you will be unique in the world, and for you I will be unique in the world.”
…..I'll probably have to watch the movie again or read the book, I'd really like to see if I can get inspiration from this.
3-Potential Angst:
You know the song “Monster” from the album “Epic the musical” ? well I plan to have Haedus be considered a monster even among the other stars of his world, and I also imagine a scene where either Magnifico and Amaya hurt Naos or Nembus in a SERIOUS way and just seeing Haedus say “Then I'll become the monster” just feels great to me you know?
Tik tok is giving me a lot of angst ideas, there is an audio from “The last of us” series where Joel loses his daughter and …….. do I have to explain how this can relate to Haedus and their little brothers Naos and Nembus?
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shrinkthisviolet · 9 days
Note
Director's Cut for the little things (give you away)?
How I love this fic 🥰 it was my first attempt at writing Saviris within the bounds of canon—the tragedy of them, and how that's so tied up with the brightness of Westallen, is so intriguing to me, and so underexplored (which ties into Savitar's true identity as Barry being underexplored, but I digress).
As I said jokingly to one of my mutuals when first posting this, this fic came about because I got pushed "one gifset too far". The scene itself has been written with a Saviris slant before (and I highly recommend it), but really, it's the many gifsets that finally pushed me to try my hand at Saviris myself. From Iris's perspective, of course.
On that note, if you haven’t read this fic, I highly recommend doing so before reading this ask response, since it does answer something that I intentionally left unanswered in the fic.
So without further ado:
It starts a little earlier that I originally meant it to, with Savitar's appearance on E2 to kidnap Iris. I was originally going to omit this in the final version (this was just to get me in the zone), but I ultimately decided to keep it. I think in this scene, Iris's perspective on Savitar is so interesting:
She’d seen that expression before, on Barry: he had the upper hand, and he knew it. Though Iris had only ever seen it on Barry when he was teasing her, not…
...
The words were out of Iris’s mouth before she could really process what she was saying—really, she couldn’t look away from Bar—Savitar, from Barry’s kind features twisted in a sneer, a gruesome scar covering the right side of his face.
How did he get it? What happened to you, Barry?
Terror and pity swirled in her in equal measure, but all she could do was fall back into her instinctual nature: protect, defuse, shield. All else could come later.
She keeps seeing him as Barry, instinctively. No matter how much she tries, she cannot see him as anything else. The similarities to Barry hurt, they're painful...but they also let her see this:
Savitar smirked before affecting an expression of mock sorrow—still not quite meeting her eyes, she noticed.
It's something no one else takes note of...but she does. Of course she does. She knows Barry like the back of her hand, but this is Barry. It's also how, in the following scene, she can stand up to him and call him out:
“You can hardly meet my eyes, and you’re sarcastic more than you speak from the heart…and I know why. You and Barry are one and the same…and you can’t hide how you feel from me. I know what you’re like when you’re hiding something, remember?”
...
“So,” she said, “don’t play me for a fool. You’ve found a way around this, I know you have, so why don’t you save us both some trouble and tell me? With sincerity this time,” she added sternly. “Cut the sarcasm.”
...
“I pose that to you now.” She crossed her arms. “You want me to trust you, but you won’t even be honest with me. How does that work?”
And she even cracks his shield a few times:
Savitar’s lips twitched, but he scowled instead of the smile Iris was certain he’d suppressed just now.
...
“Frustrated is a strong word,” he muttered, seeming oddly abashed suddenly.
...
“Come closer,” she added, emboldened once more.
“Why?”
“Eyes are the windows to the soul, right? I want to fact-check your sincerity.”
He laughed then—a laugh closer to sincere than she thought he intended. “Only you would say such a thing. Fine.” He walked steadily closer to her…stopping when their noses were almost touching. “Close enough for you, Iris?” He murmured.
Her breath caught in her throat, but she nodded. Though she took comfort in the faint blush she saw spreading across his cheeks—she wasn’t alone in her feelings, then.
Saviris’s proximity to Westallen is what makes it so interesting, isn’t it 👀
...
He hesitated, something flickering in his expression.
...
“I’m not…good with that,” he said finally, still not looking at her. “With trust.”
...
He chuckled bitterly. “Not everything. I didn’t tell you about…about being the Flash, or…or about my feelings for you when it mattered…”
Hmm he inadvertently admits something here 👀 quite a contrast to his scathing words earlier:
“Well, how convenient for you, then, that I have it,” he sneered. “Wouldn’t want you kissing the aberration by accident, now would we?”
Fun fact, this is the first line I wrote in this entire fic, and it’s my favorite 💞 it’s so him
(Also notice who makes Savitar look up in the first place when he's so occupied with his plans 👀 very telling. It’s not his partner in crime…but his heart)
In the end, Savitar rejects her. Reasserts his identity as Savitar, not Barry. It's too late, though. He's already admitted he's Barry—even though the rest of canon proceeds the same, Iris has seen beneath the mask. He can put on his gleaming metal armor, can put up all his walls...she's won this battle, the same way Barry will win it in 3x23 with the Masonville story.
And, also, there's a fix-it aspect to this too. What version of Barry could ever kill Iris, even if his life depended on it? No version, that's what. So...
“So yes, I found a loophole.”
“And that is…?”
“That is…for me to know, and you to find out.”
It's not too difficult to guess the loophole, I'm sure 😂 it's an idea I got from this fic, actually (an amazing fic, I definitely recommend it. It’s labeled OT3, but it’s really more of a poly-V)—they came up with a clever loophole for Savitar that’s been my headcanon ever since. His “loophole” is to revive Iris with his new godly power, and keep her as his Iris forever, away from Barry. After all, it’s Barry’s life he really wants, Iris included, the finale proves that. The rest of the season just does a really bad job showing it…so I wanted to imply that his ultimate goal wasn’t to kill Iris…but to steal her away in such a way that Barry would never know (without jeopardizing his existence, in other words)
Also, as a bonus:
“I forgot how much tact you lacked, Caitlin,” Savitar sneered, without looking up. Out of the corner of her eye, Iris saw Killer Frost flinch.
She was trying to kill her. Logically, Iris knew this.
But the more emotional part of her remembered her friend, who had sat with her and encouraged her to pursue Barry. Who had defended her place on Team Flash. Who had gone out for drinks with her, played darts and laughed with her.
Caitlin Snow, with a warmer heart than most people realized. Killer Frost was assisting in Iris’s murder, but…Iris would believe in her friend—in Caitlin—up to the bitter end. And in that vein…
“You got what you wanted,” Iris spoke up sharply, “there’s no point in bothering her about it.”
Savitar couldn't care less about Killer Frost, that's canon. Iris, though? She looks at KF and sees her friend, Caitlin (because the show ought to have emphasized their friendship more). She speaks in KF's defense when Savitar won’t. It's sweet but also so sad 🥺
(Also helps explain why she forgives KF so quickly in s4. I reject that “work friend” nonsense)
Now ofc this is not the last time I'm gonna write Savitar, and it's not even the last time I'll write Saviris. But this was a fun way of inserting a moment of them into canon, to give Iris a win with him like Barry gets one...to further emphasize Savitar's feelings for Iris and establish that they always existed 🥰
director’s cut ask game!
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fluentmoviequoter · 6 months
Text
Christmas Tree Farm
Day 2 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Victor Vale x fem!reader
Summary: Sydney wants a Christmas tree and you offer to take her to get one, but Victor refuses... to let you go alone.
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
Warnings: fluff, random Christmas tree facts, references to Vicious and Vengeful, Victor is sarcastic, Sydney and reader team up against Vic... more fluff.
Masterlist Directory | Victor Vale Masterlist | Request Info
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“Victor,” Sydney groans, dragging out the last syllable as she collapses on the couch beside you. “It’s almost December, we need a Christmas tree.”
“Sydney,” Victor mocks. His care for her overrides his sarcasm as he says, “We can’t walk around freely yet. Just because Eli is gone and Merit PD is normal again…”
“As normal as they can be,” you add quietly.
“None of it means we can just walk down the middle of the sidewalk and get a Christmas tree like a normal family!” Victor finishes.
“But we are a family, right?” Sydney asks, looking up at Victor.
You glance at Sydney’s big, watery blue eyes, obviously trying to guilt-trip Victor into agreeing. Looking over to him, you see that he’s avoiding looking directly at her eyes.
“I’ll go with her,” you offer. “Although, I’d argue that looking like a family would be more inconspicuous than just one or two of us.”
“You’re not helping,” Victor snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I said no.”
“And we’re not accepting that,” Sydney says, lifting her chin defiantly. “Just admit you’re scared and then we’ll go get a tree.”
You press your lips together to hide your smile and look at Victor.
“You’re not going alone,” Victor says.
Sydney points to you and says, “I know. We’re going.”
“No, I mean, the two of you are not going alone.”
“You want us to take Mitch? He’s as big as a Christmas tree; not exactly what I thought when you said, ‘Be invisible.’”
You laugh at Sydney’s impression of Victor, waving a hand at him as you apologize.
“Just- let me think about it,” Victor decides before leaving the room.
“That was really good,” you whisper to Sydney.
“Oh, I can do one better!” She puts her hand on the couch behind you and leans forward to say, “No one is going to hurt you. Do you know why? Because I’ll hurt them first.”
“I can still hear you!” Victor yells, making you and Sydney laugh even harder.
✯✯✯✯✯
That night, after Sydney goes to bed, you knock on Victor’s open door. He looks up and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he invites you in.
“If you’re here to ask me to get a tree, it’s not happening.”
“I actually just wanted to ask why.” You sit at the end of his bed, looking at him as you fiddle with his blanket. “You made the decision, and I’ll respect it, but I don’t get it.”
“If we go out and get noticed, there’s no way of knowing what will happen to any of us. Mitch scrubbed the prison records and filed a death certificate for Sydney, but people who have met us before are out there.”
“I know. But you can distract them, and Sydney has a point.”
“First time for everything,” Victor jokes.
“You know she’s right. No one would think twice about a family picking out a tree. You two already look alike. If someone happens to look at you, they won’t think twice.”
Victor looks at your hands as he thinks. 
“It’s okay to be scared, to be cautious. But there’s no need to live the rest of our lives in hiding just in case. That’s not living, Victor. It’s Christmas. What better time to start a new life?”
“What if there isn’t a new life here?”
“Then we go somewhere there is. You got us away from Merit, Vic, you’ve done everything right. We’re safe. We can stay cautious, and I agree that we should, but that doesn’t mean staying in this cabin until we die of old age, miserable and tired.”
“Being with me makes you miserable and tired?” Victor repeats, pale brows raised.
You smile as you respond, “When there’s no Christmas tree, yes.”
He shakes his head, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “Fine. We’ll take Sydney tomorrow to get a tree.”
You lean forward and hug him quickly before standing, pausing as you feel his awkward pat on your shoulder. “And hot chocolate,” you say over your shoulder.
“And hot chocolate,” Victor affirms, watching you walk away.
He lays down, thinking about you and Sydney picking out a tree and laughing together. Maybe this living thing isn’t such a bad idea.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Get dressed,” you tell Sydney when she enters the kitchen. “Something warm.”
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“There’s something we need to do,” Victor answers, dragging a Sharpie across a book page.
Sydney shrugs and returns to her room.
“What’s the point of the matching sweaters?” Victor asks, Sydney’s excited gasp audible as she finds it in her closet.
“It’s Christmas, Vic, matching sweaters are a necessity. Yours is on the couch to put on before we leave.”
“Not happening.”
“No one will see you anyway, right?” you ask, standing before him with your hands on your hips. “What are you afraid of?”
“You, at the moment,” Victor mumbles.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Sydney asks as she skips back into the living room. “Oh, we match!”
“We do! And Victor will too,” you add, looking pointedly at Victor.
“I thought prison guards were bossy,” Victor grumbles as he leaves his book and walks to the couch, pulling the sweater on instead of his usual black coat.
“You look so cute!” you squeal, scrunching your nose as you look at him.
“This. This is what I was scared of,” Victor admits. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
“There’s a contract. You can’t change your mind,” you point out.
“What contract?” Sydney and Victor inquire together.
“You hugged me last night, that’s legally binding with Vales.”
“You hugged?” Sydney asks excitedly.
Victor shakes his head, following you and Sydney outside as he sighs in exasperation.
✯✯✯✯✯
“First stop,” you announce as you open the door of the Christmas-themed cafe. 
Sydney picks a booth and slides in, wrapping her arms around you in a quick hug when you join her. Victor sits on the other side, looking around at the decorations before his eyes land on you.
“Thanks,” he says quickly.
“For what?”
“Convincing me to do this. You were right.”
Your eyes widen as Sydney's jaw drops.
“Write it down, we can’t forget this,” she whispers to you.
Victor rolls his eyes and distracts the waiter, nudging him to look at his menu pad rather than any of you. After you order three hot chocolates and a stack of Christmas tree pancakes, Sydney asks where else you’re going. You look at Victor and raise your eyebrows, silently asking, “Should we tell her?” He looks at Sydney and then nods.
“We’re going to get a Christmas tree!” you tell her.
She gasps again and looks at you. “How’d you convince him?”
“What makes you think I didn’t reach this conclusion on my own?” he counters.
Sydney looks at him and says, “I didn’t think of that. So, how’d she convince you?”
Victor prepares to answer sarcastically, but the cocoa and pancakes landing on the table interrupt him. He looks at you and smiles, not his lying smile, but a smile that makes you think he’s ready to start living again.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Okay, so I did a ton of research after Victor said no,” Sydney begins as you walk into the Christmas tree farm.
“Never living that down, am I?” Victor asks you, walking side-by-side behind Sydney.
“Give it a few Christmases,” you respond, smiling as he sighs.
“We’re looking for a Fraser fir; it’s considered to be the best tree for families with pets and it’s the prettiest, in my opinion. The house has ten foot ceilings, so we need a tree that’s at least eight feet tall, but preferably nine.”
“How do you intend on measuring them?” Victor asks.
“With you,” Sydney answers quickly, turning down a row of Fraser firs. “I know how tall you are, so I can figure out how much taller than you the tree needs to be.”
“That’s why she invited you,” you say sarcastically, pointing at Victor.
“Sydney,” Victor calls, looking at you. “What if I put her on my shoulders? Would that help?”
You roll your eyes as Sydney says maybe, but she’s more interested in finding a pretty tree than listening to Victor. A man walks by with two kids, too busy wrangling them to notice you, Victor, and Sydney. You take Victor’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze, watching Sydney as you miss him looking at your joined hands.
“This is the one! Victor, come stand beside it?” Sydney requests.
Victor reluctantly pulls his hand from yours and stands by the tree. You move beside Sydney and agree that it’s the perfect height. As Victor begins cutting it, you show Sydney a picture of an ornament you had as a kid and offer to make ornaments with her. When Victor is finished, he drags the tree to the end of the row and lets you talk to an employee about getting it to the car, which Mitch is bringing now.
“It’s interesting that you let her do all the talking for you but can’t stand when she talks to other people,” Sydney hums, standing beside Victor.
“Meaning?” Victor asks.
“You’re jealous.”
You turn around and want to take a picture of Sydney and Victor in their matching sweaters with the snow-covered trees behind them. Pouting at Victor, you ask if you can, and he says it’s okay as long as you take one with them. Mitch soon arrives, and while Victor keeps the employee focused on tying the tree to the top of the car, he takes a picture of you, Victor, and Sydney.
“Putting that on the Christmas card, Vic?” Mitch asks, smiling as he returns your phone.
“I was thinking of putting your mugshot on it instead,” Victor replies, huffing as you smack his shoulder.
✯✯✯✯✯
You and Victor walk back while Sydney and Mitch take the tree home by car.
“Thank you for doing this,” you say, your knuckles brushing Victor’s as you walk side-by-side. “It meant a lot to Sydney, and to me.”
“I’d do anything for you,” Victor says quietly.
You catch his hand as he swings it, interlacing your fingers with his.
“You want to string up some mistletoe while we decorate the tree then?”
“Wait, decorate? I thought we were just getting a tree.”
“It’s Christmas, Vic. Without ornaments, it’s just an oversized house plant.”
“Like Sydney,” he teases. “Do I really have to help?”
“Yep. You said it, we’re family now.”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
“Fine, then, you said you would do anything for me. Do it for me, and Sydney, and Mitch, and Dol.”
“There better be cookies involved,” Victor sighs.
“Cookies and mistletoe. Sydney found some at the tree farm and you bought it for her.”
Victor shakes his head, but when you tug his hand and stand closer to him, he starts to think that maybe decorating a tree won’t be so bad. Not with you at his side.
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bella-goths-wife · 2 years
Text
Michael Myers with people being homophobic towards his S/O (male reader)
You had spent all day fussing over the home and cleaning where ever you could trying to make everything perfect
Michael had raised an eyebrow at your behaviour to which you calmly explained that your parents were coming over and that your mother was very strict with how she views how a house should be ran and that everything needed to be absolutely spotless
“Hey Michael?” You said calmly said “do you mind if you hide upstairs while my family is over? You being here would kind of freak them out y’know with you being a serial killer and all”
Michael nodded “fair enough” he thought. He couldn’t risk being detected and he knew killing your family would upset you
So by the time your family arrived, the table was set, dinner was ready and Michael was tucked away upstairs away from your family’s prying eyes
“Honey” your mother greeted you with a hug before squishing your cheeks “how’s my handsome boy”
“I’m good mom, how are you” you said, welcoming your mother and father in before giving your sister a hug
“I would be better if I had my boy back home with me” she says in a playfully sarcastic tone
“I know mom but I had to move away someday” I said while ushering everyone to the table
I put the food out in front of everyone and filled their plates. I got a few compliments on the dish I had prepared
“It’s great son, you always were a good cook” my father said with a small smile before taking another mouthful
“Yes but he shouldn’t have to be” my mother piped up, I cringed as I knew straight away what this conversation would turn into
“Martha” my dad said in a warning tone
“No Tom, it’s not normal, we’ve got a lovely, handsome boy and he’s not got a wife yet. He needs someone to look after him and the house” she said while using overdramatic hand gestures
“He cleans and cooks better than me mom. I think he’ll be fine on his own for however long he wants” my sister snapped back before finishing her meal
“Don’t talk to me like that young lady, and you should have learnt how to do that a long time ago and god as my witness I tried to teach you” my mother spat out with her hands out in a mock surrendering
I kept my head down and my eyes fixed on my plate. It always hurt whenever they talked about me getting a wife, they never knew how close I was to having a husband who I had to hide upstairs away from their curious gaze.
It’s time (y/n). You can do this
“I…I’m actually seeing someone at the moment” I said, looking up from my plate to see my fathers shocked expression and my mother’s delighted one
“You are!? Who is she?” My mother exclaimed, clasping my hands
“Good for you son, is she a looker?” My dad says with a cheeky grin on his face while giving me a playful elbow
“It’d be nice to finally have a sister in love to talk shit with about you” my sister said in a joking manner, a playful smirk made its way to her face.
“Amanda, language!” My mother scolded, earning an eye role from my sister.
“So son who is she?” My father asked again with an excited expression
“You can do this (y/n), they love you” you though to yourself before opening your mouth to speak
“They’re called Mike” I started “he’s a bit stoic but he can be sweet”
“What?” My mother asked,slowly pulling her hands away from mine, pulling a confused face
“OH I get it, he’s joking with us Martha! Good one son you almost had me” your father laughed followed by nervous laughter from my mom and sister
“Don’t back down, they’re just shocked that’s all. You can do this (y/n)” you thought
“No dad. Im serious” I continue “I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while now but I’m gay and I’m dating a man called Michael. Im actually engaged to him”
“You can’t be serious” my sister piped up “that’s disgusting why would you date a man? Your a boy aren’t you? Or have you decided your a girl now as well?”
Tears prickled in my eyes, how could she say that?
“No I’m a boy and I’m in love with a man, it’s perfectly normal or have you been trapped in the 1850’s?” I snap back
“Mom?” I say gently, she had been looking down for a while now and not moving. I see tears streaming down her face
“Your not my son” she whispers out, it’s barely audible. She gets up from her seat, so does the rest of my family
“Mom please, I love you” I say grabbing her hand
“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME. MY SON IS DEAD, YOU ARE NOT MY FUCKING SON” she screams in my face before yanking her hand out of my grip
My sister and mum storm off, leaving only me and my father in the room. He’s looking straight at me yet if feels like he can’t see me at all.
“Dad please, I don’t want to lose my family, please” I begged him
“How could you do this to me?” He whispers out
“What?” I say confused
“How could you do this family?”
“Please dad” i pleaded
“HOW COULD YOU HUMILIATE ME AND YOUR MOTHER LIKE THIS?” He screams, slamming his hand on the table
“PLEASE DAD IM SORRY” I backed away in fear
“YOUR MEANT TO BE MY SON! MY BOY? YOUR MY ONLY SON AND NOW I FIND OUT THAT THE BOY THAT I HELD IN MY ARMS THE DAY YOU WERE BORN TAKES IT UP THE ASS? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR MOTHER. THE WOMAN CARRIED YOU FOR 9 MONTHS AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY HER?” He screamed, grabbing my shirt with his two fists and lifting me up
“BY DOING WHAT? DAD? MARRYING THE MAN I LOVE AND WHO LOVES ME? FINDING SOMEONE WHO LOVES ME FOR ME AND WOULD DO ANYTHING AND I THE SAME? HOW IS ME LOVING SOMEONE WHO SEES ME FOR WHO I AM HUMILIATING YOU? OR IS THIS JUST BECAUSE MY BULLIES WERE RIGHT? THAT YOUR SON WAS A LITTLE (F slur)?”
My father punched me in the face before dropping me to the ground. I looked up at him in shock, he matches my expression while he looks down at his hands, they’re spread apart with a little blood on his knuckle from my nose
“H….how could you?” I say, terrified and alone. My father who had held me so affectionately mere hours before had hit me. I touched my nose and realised it was bleeding heavily and was possibly broken.
“If you marry a man. Y….you will no longer be my son. You will no longer have a family” he says the shock leaving his face and returning to a look or disgust
I look down at the floor and contemplate my decision. I don’t get up from the floor, my tears wet the carpet below my along with my blood
“Get out” i whimper, my throat sore from all the yelling
“I hope he’s worth it” my dad says before getting ready to leave
“He is Tom, his love for me is so great that he would risk his life, yours is limited to risking your reputation” I spit out looking him straight in the eyes
He stops his attempt to leave and for a moment I think he’s going to come back. He storms out instead and slams the door after him. I bring my knees to my chest before hiding my face in my arms, crying violently.
The slammed door must have alerted Michael because I heard him rushing down the stairs. I feel his presence but I don’t lift my head, I’m too exhausted
He put his arms around me and held me on the floor. I was shocked he had never been one for affection
“I love you” I state as I cry in his chest, he just holds me closer and draws patterns in my back with is finger
He puts me on the coach and asks me what wrong with a head tilt
“They disowned me because I said that I was gonna marry you” I stated weakly,
He points at the door before pulling his thumb across his throat and then titling his head. He was asking if I wanted him to kill them
“No I don’t want them dead. I just don’t want to talk to them ever again” I say. Michael brings his thumb up to my nose and wipes the blood before raising his eye brow “my dad hit me” I say, confirming his suspicions
He picks me up and puts me In bed before holding me closely and waiting for you to fall asleep
“Yep” I think “he’s definitely worth it” I smile as my exhausted eyes close and I drift away into a peaceful sleep
Of course Michael wasn’t gonna leave it, your family hurt you and no one hurts what’s his
He already knew where they lived because of how long he had stalked you for
He killed your sister first with a throat slit
Your mother was next with a knife to the eye
Your father was next, The police found him with his bruised hand cut off and shoved down his throat and with multiple knife wounds to the back
He backstabbed you metaphorically, Michael back stabbed him literally.
Poetic justice, am I right?
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aaeds · 1 year
Text
If Jaune isn’t called out for everything he said in that last episode I’m going to fucking riot. 
Ruby had every right to flip out not knowing when it’s an appropriate time to express emotions. She almost died, and instead of addressing that which could be an issue later when they need her, everyone instead went to calm Jaune down the moment the literal dam broke.
Now, maybe it’s just too close to home having grown up in a child caretaker household where my personal feelings and needs came absolutely last to everyone else, but I find Ruby’s reasoning and feelings extremely valid even if her sarcastic example of Yang and Blake felt too pointed for other watchers. 
There were two extremes of needs being met that I feel Ruby pointed out. Yang and Blake resolving their relationship, and Jaune receiving sympathy and support for the paper pleasers - all forms of validation and support Ruby has been denied by way of teammate or disaster related interruption, or as she says “No time, right?” (No, seriously. Yeah they show they care, but there’s never any follow through with approaching it because they’re always interrupted by something else.)
Even if what she said was harsh, she downplayed their achievements and their grief in a way that felt like they were downplaying her own just because she’s their ‘leader’ even if she can’t afford to be one. Tit for tat.  Why does she have to have the last say in picking someone else up with her blind optimism especially when it’s starting to fall flat and the fatigue is setting in? 
I forget the episode, but I recall I think Yang or Weiss mentioning that she shouldn’t worry, and they’ll find her weapon soon even if that was the furthest thing from her mind. 
Jaune on the other hand blames Ruby for the downfall of his village, as well as the reason for why they’re in the NA. This all happened because Neo hates Ruby, and because Ruby’s plan failed.
Aside from the fact Roman died in the middle of beating Ruby to death with his cane while she was unarmed and curled in a ball, then snapped up by a Grim, and that the plan to evacuate everyone safely involved everyone being on board because nothing else was working - then yeah I mean all of that is totally Ruby’s fault, every inch of it 110% on her shoulders. Yeah perfectly reasonable.
I’m sure that’s what she believes herself, which is why I think attacking Ruby in the middle of her cathartic release where it would hurt the most from one leader to another to shut her up was the absolute worst action to take on Jaune’s part. Attacking her with her own fears, figuratively unarmed.
Especially after knowing she couldn’t take up her weapon and fight, putting her on blast about it just a minute before about “I know you don’t care [about protecting the village] but the least you can do is protect your friends.” Knowing she was feeling vulnerable after nearly dying.
Both Jaune and Ruby expressed themselves aggressively, but you can’t equate blaming the deaths of thousands to envious mocking of your sister’s new relationship. The depth to either are very different even if they both come from a similar place of the sense of no support or understanding. 
It would just really suck to have the last thing Jaune says to Ruby this season is basically “I blame you for putting me in a place to kill your best friend. Penny died, and in a round about way, you forced my hand.”
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petitprincess1 · 2 years
Note
Ga3yLykes tweeted disliking Loona kicking Blitzo and DaniDraws came for their neck
And Ga3yLkes wasn't acting rude
From what I saw, she mentioned what I've said and that's Loona isn't going to just suddenly change in one episode. That it doesn't make sense for people to expect everything to be wrapped up all in one episode. I also saw her using anime to show that these characters get hurt a lot for comedic effect, both men and women, and especially during touching moments....at least that's what they're meant to be originally x3
Where in there does that show that Dani can't take criticism? The most I've seen her act is slightly sarcastic, but that's not a crime or anything. Especially when people are talking about how Loona "abuses" Blitzo when she treats almost EVERYONE the exact same way. Her and Blitzo gang up on Moxxie to mock him, after all. This isn't even the first time they've mocked him together.
Why are people so against actual development and want everyone to just be "healed" in one episode? Aren't you guys often talking about these characters needing more development? Why close off everything there as if that was their only issue?
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that-one-stag · 2 years
Text
Why (part 2)
!warning!- none
AN- hope y’all like this😭
Millies Pov
I felt horrible for her. How could he do this, how could he hurt her like that. I don't want to go to the party anymore but y/n is forcing me to go. I wanna be there for her, I wanna make her feel better somehow. I'm sure if she comes to the party with me then it would take her mind off my idiotic brother. I got dressed and made my way to y/ns window.
I saw her sleeping but her mascara was all over her face and she looked like a mess. I can't blame her though, I would have looked even worse if this happened to me. I shook her gently so she would wake up. She is a light sleeper so as soon as I touched her shoulder, she woke up. 'Millie I thought I told you to go to the party' she said in a sleepy voice. 'Well I did some thinking-'. 'Hah, that's new!' She interrupted me. I would usually be mad at her but I'm glad she was being her sarcastic self. 'Whatever let me finish' I said playfully snapping at her. 'Like I was SAYING, I was thinking and I thought going to the party would take your mind off well, you know who'. 'Millie I told you already that I don't wanna go to the party, especially now with everything that happened'. 'I know I know but it would help, trust me!'. 'Millie I said no!' She said a little loud. 'Please! I promise if something happens we'll leave immediately.' I said giving her the puppy eyes. She took a second but finally agreed. 'Fine! But you have to keep your promise'. 'Of course' I said as i jumped to hug her.
'I seriously have nothing to wear!' She whined looking through her closet. 'Let me see' I said pushing her aside. Suddenly my eyes fell on the prettiest dress I've ever seen. 'This!' I said whipping the dress out of the closet.
'Hmmm, wouldn't I look fat in it?' She asked me as she held the dress to her chest. 'Girl are you kidding! You're literally the most perfect person I've ever seen'. 'Haha very funny' she said almost as if she was mocking me. 'Just go try the dress on' I told her pushing her into the bathroom. After 15 mins she came out of the bathroom with the dress on and her makeup done with her hair slightly curled.
'Woah, look it's my pretty best friend!' I said looking at her. 'Shut up!' She said slightly blushing. 'I won't but let's not waste any time, we're already late!' I said dragging her down the stairs. 'Wait! I forgot my phone upstairs.' She said getting out of my grip and running upstairs to grab it. 'You ready now?' I said and she playfully rolled her eyes. 'Yes I am! Now let's go!' She said. We went outside to see a car waiting for us, it was our friends here to pick us up. 'What took you girls so long?' Tom, our friend said. 'You know how y/n is!' I said and y/n hit my arm. 'You were the one who begged me to come!' She said getting in the back seat. It seemed like a short ride cuz we were all just talking about what's going on and how we've been. I did notice that y/n was avoiding the topic of my brother, whenever someone said anything about Louis she would change the topic. But I'm pretty sure I was the only one who noticed, I wasn't going to mention anything cuz I didn't know if y/n wanted me too. We finally made it to the door and opened it to see a lot of people. 'Oh boy, this is gonna be one hell of a night' I heard y/n mumble.
To be continued...
17 notes · View notes
Text
Trust
Trust
Trust
Spending a bit of time sitting outside at the moment and I’m realizing I don’t think I actually trust people. I don’t think I have in a really long time. I don’t trust that people care about me or for me, I don’t trust that people aren’t lying, I don’t trust that people don’t have ulterior motives, I don’t trust that people aren’t mocking me or making fun of me, I don’t trust that people aren’t out to get one over on me or on others. Sometimes it’s as simple as just not trusting them to know how to do something or just to do something and follow through. To remember. To not forget..
That’s why it feels so good when Chris hits the mark.
But I WANT to trust people and so my brain does this thing where it pretends “I’m doing the thing!” but actually I’m not. I will open up to people tell them things. But if I’m honest with myself that’s probably just me wanting to talk to someone so they will hear my story. And the really cruel part of my brain says it’s because “she has a need to be pitied” while the other part says “no, she just wants to be heard.”
I will let them open up to me. I keep their secrets and stories. but so many times… more often than not… when I wait to see if they can be trusted almost every single one has let me down. 
There’s a few exceptions. Chris never has. Kristen never has. Sky. Probably Natalie.  But I still have trouble *fully* trusting them in some things.
Though… maybe “not doubting them” is maybe a better way of phrasing it. I trust that Chris loves me. I trust that he cares for me and looks out for me and defends and protects and cherishes me. But I don’t trust that I’m good enough. I don’t trust that he can’t be taken away. And when I boil it down it’s not anything he has ever done to make me think that. It’s just me not seeing my value or my worth as anything of substance. The doubt creeps in.
Something I read recently that stuck with me: Time to Leap
You know that expression, “Leap and the net will appear”? Diplomat personality types can fall into the trap of thinking they’ve leapt – metaphorically speaking – when they’re actually still perched at the ledge. Because these personalities have such active mental lives and imaginations, they can forget that thinking about starting a business isn’t the same as actually starting a business, or that watching videos of dancers isn’t the same as throwing themselves into a pirouette.
Sometimes it feels like I do this with trust. I tell myself, or others, this illusion that I’m a trusting person. But am I really?
My mom lied to me a lot when I was a kid. It’s because of her that I’m a good liar. She’d always let me down by saying things and then not doing them and telling me that she forgot (either she actually forgot or she was lying or it was because of the drinking or all of the above) She’d also needlessly pick at me. Calling me beautiful one moment (your hair is so pretty) and chubby the next. (Suck in your tummy) or sometimes she would say these really awful and cruel things to me while she was drunk and then the next day not remember. Never apologize. or if she did it was while crying and having her own fit of self loathing. I thought she did this for attention and sympathy. She was a hurting neglected and abused child on the inside too.
I got teased and made fun of a lot at school. Sometimes by people I never expected to do it. 
I’m stuck in this cycle where i simultaneously are the good in people while also second guessing everything they say. 
Someone said this in our discord server the other day: “ youre so awesome and cool kaitlin” and immediately my brain went “wait are they being sarcastic? Do they actually think I’m pretentious and boastful?” 
The answer was no, probably not. But it has sat with me for the last 24 hours. The guy who said this has been nothing but nice and genuine the entire time I have known him and he’s the last person I’d expect to be a bully type or say something like that.
So why is my brain constantly tricking me into thinking I’m not good enough to accept praise? Why does my brain think I’m not good enough to be these kind things people say I am. And the guilt from thinking these unpleasant things about my friends compounds the problem. If it’s because my mom seeded this doubt, and because my dad kinda gave up trying to see me as a kid, and because I was bullied in school… what do I have to do to get over it?
A lot of the advice I get is that I have to learn to be at ease with myself. To love myself. Be there for myself.
But I was all by myself. I only had myself to love. I was the only one there for me. So what else is there? Repeating mantras and affirmations doesn’t feel like enough.
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sukirichi · 3 years
Note
Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.
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EASY 
— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.
meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach
warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry
notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!
word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT
check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR
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Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?
Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.
He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.
With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.
As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.
“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.
“Have fun last night, neighbor?”
“Yes.”
“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”
“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”
“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”
“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”
Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.
Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”
You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”
“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.
You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.
You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”
He would not be an easy feat.
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Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.
No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.
Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 
Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!
To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.
As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.
They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.
You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.
Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.
So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.
You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.
He looked totally fucked out.
“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”
“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”
“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.
It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”
“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”
“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”
“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.
“I think I deserve an apology.”
“I think you should mind your business.”
You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”
He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”
“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”
“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”
His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”
“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”
“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”
“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”
“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”
“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”
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“So how’s your exams going?”
“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.
“Stupid little what?”
“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”
At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”
“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”
Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”
“I have you for that.”
“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”
“No…”
“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.
“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”
“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”
“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”
At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.
“I miss her…”
“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”
“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”
“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”
“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”
“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”
“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.
“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”
“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”
“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”
“Oh, I just hate men!”
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You really did hate men.
Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.
“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”
The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.
If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.
Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.
His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”
“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”
“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”
Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.
“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.
Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”
“Is that true?”
“Nadia, you know how this works—”
“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”
You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”
“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”
“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”
“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”
“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”
“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?
However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”
“How did—”
“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”
Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”
“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”
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You were wrong.
Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.
[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!
[You:] Dad…don’t push it.
[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.
[You:] Fine, fine, okay.
[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.
[You:] Dad!
[Dad:] love ya kid !
And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.
You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”
Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.
The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.
You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!
Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.
You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.
“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”
You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”
“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”
“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”
“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”
The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”
Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”
“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”
“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”
“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”
“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”
Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”
“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”
At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”
“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”
“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”
Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.
In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.
“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”
“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”
“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”
“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”
“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.
Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.
“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Okay, thank you so much!”
“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”
Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.
It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.
You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.
So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.
Life felt a lot easier.
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At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.
Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.
For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.
“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”
He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”
“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.
“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”
“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”
“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”
Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”
“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”
Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”
“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.
“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”
“I-I’m not—”
Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”
“I never want you near me again!”
He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”
“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”
“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”
Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.
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“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it.”
Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.
“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s he like?”
You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.
Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.
“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”
“And when did you meet him?”
“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”
“Law. Impressive.”
“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”
In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.
You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.
“Y/N?”
You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”
Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!
His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.
Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.
Maybe a fucked up mix of both.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”
To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”
“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.
“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”
“Yes, sir.”
Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.
So this was the life of an escort.
“So how much did my daughter pay you?”
“Dad, I didn’t—”
“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”
Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?
He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.
“Really? What did you guys talk about?”
Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.
Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.
“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”
“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”
“Client? So you really are my escort?”
“Yes, I am.”
“So those women…”
“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”
“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Why did you lie then?”
“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.
“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”
“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”
“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”
You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.
Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.
Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.
There was no denying it now.
You respected this man – admired him even.
“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”
You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.
Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.
“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”
“Two left feet?”
“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”
“Then take it off.”
“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.
Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You seem to hate the idea of love.”
“Because it’s pointless.”
Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.
“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”
“We met just last week, remember?”
“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”
“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”
Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”
“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”
“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.
“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”
“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”
“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”
You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.
Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.
The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.
You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”
“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.
It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.
Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.
You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.
Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.
Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.
You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.
The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”
“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”
“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”
“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”
Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”
“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.
You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”
“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”
“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.
“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”
“I-I don’t understand.”
“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.
Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”
“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”
Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.
“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”
“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.
“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.
In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”
And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.
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