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#and her music invades any and all available spaces
ribbittrobbit · 28 days
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hey mutuals hmu if i can complain with you about the phenomenon of t*ylor sw*ft bec its that time of year again
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runnning-outof-time · 2 years
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Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 1)
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: (Y/N) arrives in Small Heath, Birmingham and almost immediately finds work at the Garrison tavern. When two men come looking for her, she deals with them, which then has Tommy Shelby questioning her true identity.
Warnings: language, smoking, weapons, character death
Word Count: 3686
A/N: I hope this was along the lines of what you were envisioning, anon! Enjoy! :)
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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"I'll let you off here and I won't go any further," the cab driver announced as he brought the vehicle to a stop.
"Thank you," (Y/N) answered, handing him money before she exited the car with her small bag in hand. It held everything she had to her name. Of course, it wasn't all of her belongings, but it was what she was able to collect in a hurry.
After doing a quick spin to take in her surroundings, she made her way down the street to a building that had a small 'lodging' sign hung over its door. She knocked on the door and was greeted by an older lady, who quickly took her in and showed her an apartment that was available. Luckily she'd also brought a lump sum of money from her family's stash.
The woman left (Y/N) shortly after the money was transferred. The first thing that she did was open one of the windows, which let the industrial sounds of Small Heath, Birmingham invade the space. It wasn't quite music to her ears, but she'd have to get used to it since she was living there now. She also left the door open, enjoying the cross breeze that it brought into the apartment.
In her own little world, she began unpacking the small amount of things she had with her. Then, out of nowhere, a woman's voice came from the door. "Are you new here?" the person asked, making (Y/N) quickly spin around to see a woman with blonde hair and a simple dress standing in the doorway.
"I, uh...yes, I am," she answered after her initial shock wore off.
"I'm in the apartment next door. My name is Grace," she introduced herself, a smile on her face.
"Nice to meet you, Grace. I'm (Y/N)," (Y/N) sent a friendly smile back.
"If you ever need anything, feel free to knock on my door," Grace then told her, motioning in the direction of her door then.
"I will, thank you," (Y/N) nodded. The conversation finished after that, and (Y/N) went back to arranging everything so that it was to her liking.
——
A few days later, (Y/N) went over to the door next to hers and knocked on it gently. She hoped that the person she was looking for would be inside. Moments later, the door opened.
"(Y/N)," Grace greeted, surprise flashing across her face, "do you need something?"
"Yeah," (Y/N) nodded before continuing, "I wanted to ask you if you knew of anywhere that might have a job opening. I've only been here a few days and I'm already climbing up the walls with boredom."
"I work at a pub. It's called the Garrison. I'm not sure if the owner has any spots available, but I can ask him for you," she answered, a slight smile on her face as she nodded in understanding.
"That'd be great. Thank you, Grace," (Y/N) sent a smile back.
"Sure, no problem," Grace responded, her eyes glancing around (Y/N) for a moment. It was as if she was scanning the area around her. "I was expecting someone soon, actually," she said then, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen between them.
"Oh, ok. I'll leave you alone then," (Y/N) said as she began taking steps back to her apartment, "thank you again for asking him." Grace merely smiled before both of the women stepped back into their apartments.
——
A little over a week later, (Y/N) found herself walking down Garrison Lane. She hadn't heard from Grace after asking her about a possible job, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. After asking the lodging owner where the Garrison was located, and receiving a wide-eyed look in response, (Y/N) was on her way to find work for herself.
When she entered the tavern, she found a man wiping down the bar's counter. "Can I help you?" he asked once he heard the door close, a look of confusion on his face.
"I'm looking for work," (Y/N) started as she walked further into the bar's main room, "my neighbor said that she works here. Her name's Grace."
"Yes, Grace," the man nodded in recognition, "I don't have any room for another barmaid," he then said before going back to cleaning the counter.
"I don't have to be a barmaid," (Y/N) took a few more steps towards the bar, not wanting to let go of an opportunity so easily. The man looked up again, this time with furrowed eyebrows, and he looked her up and down. "I'll take any job you have," she continued, then wanting to kick herself for sounding so desperate. "My name's (Y/N), by the way. (Y/N)...Williams," she introduced herself, hesitating for a moment as she almost gave the man her real name...the name she was trying to run away from.
He pursed his lips, showing that he was thinking of her offer. "We need help with stocking," he finally said after a few moments.
(Y/N) nodded her head a few times before speaking, "I'll do that," she agreed with his offer. At this point, she just needed something to do and was up for anything.
"Good," the man nodded his head, a smile forming on his face, "name's Harry, by the way. There's men above me that you'll also have to answer to, but you'll be seeing me most of the time," he then gave her some information about the place she'd be working at.
"Ok. When will I start?" she asked after nodding her head.
Harry smiled. He liked the drive that this woman had. "Tomorrow," he told her. (Y/N) nodded one last time before she bid him goodbye, happy that she now had something to occupy her time.
——
The next morning, (Y/N) arrived at the bar at the time that Harry had specified. He almost immediately gave her a list of things that needed doing, and she was more than happy to get to it. She loved the job almost instantly. She rarely had to talk to people and oftentimes was off in the backroom, making sure that the alcohol was inventoried and restocked at the bar when it was called for. The one person she did see rather early into her shift was Grace, and the blonde woman did not look happy to see her neighbor.
"What're you doing here?" she asked (Y/N) as she searched for what Harry had told her to get.
"I came looking for a job," (Y/N) responded simply as she continued unpacking and stacking the crates that filled the backroom.
"And Harry gave you one?" she asked yet another question.
"He did," (Y/N) responded, then looking over at the other woman, "why do you look surprised?" she questioned upon noticing the expression on Grace's face.
"I'm not surprised..." Grace trailed off, looking like she was scrambling for a cover, "I just didn't think that Harry would offer you a job," was her excuse.
"So that's why you didn't even bother asking him?" (Y/N) inquired, her eyebrows raised.
Grace shut down almost immediately after hearing this statement. "I need to get back out to the bar," she said in a dismissive tone before she quickly grabbed the bottle closest to her and turned to leave the room. (Y/N) couldn't help but snort at the random encounter she'd just had. She shook her head before going back to what she was doing.
——
Grace was different towards (Y/N) from that day forward. She was no longer friendly and inviting whenever (Y/N) saw her around the apartments, and when she did speak to her, she kept things very formal in nature. It certainly confused (Y/N), who was hoping to find at least one person to confide in.
She also was able to meet the 'men above Harry that she'd have to answer to'. There were two of them: Arthur and Tommy. Although Harry ran the bar, these two men, who were brothers, owned the establishment. Arthur seemed nice and was happy to see that there was another hand around the place...because it was less work for him to do. Tommy was different. (Y/N) couldn't quite get a read on him, and she hoped to hell that he wouldn't get a read on her and figure her true self out. She'd introduced herself to both of them as (Y/N) Williams, and was hoping to keep it that way.
She was finishing up stacking the newly ordered crates in the backroom when she heard voices coming from the main room of the bar. This confused her because it was late and she didn't think that there was anyone else in the building. So she finished stacking the final crate and slowly walked from the back to the main room.
Before she was able to enter it, she saw Grace. She was leaning up against the wall and she had what looked to be a gun cradled against her chest. She didn't see (Y/N) coming, because she was busy peering out into the bar's main room. "Grace?" (Y/N) asked, making the blonde-haired woman jump and quickly turn to look at her. "What are you doing?"
"Keep your voice down," Grace spoke in a hushed voice, her eyes wide and serious.
"What's going on?" (Y/N) asked again, her voice lowered now.
"There are two men that are about to come in and try to do a deal with Tommy. He insists that those men are going to kill him after the deal's done, so he's got me waiting back here...for backup," Grace explained. (Y/N) almost wanted to laugh in her face. She couldn't ever see a woman like Grace offering competent backup to someone who's on the verge of being killed. She just didn't look like she had it in her.
"Did he tell you who it is that's coming?" (Y/N) asked another question before she also tried to peer out into the main room. She was able to see Tommy sitting with his back facing them, staring at the door, but no one else.
"Men from Sheffield. He didn't say much about them, just that they'd gotten in contact with him and wanted to carry out a deal," Grace gave her more information, making the other woman's eyes widen slightly.
(Y/N) was about to say something, but got stopped by the sound of the doors opening. Upon hearing them, she peered out again to see two men walking towards the table Tommy was sitting at. Her blood ran cold as she instantly recognized their faces. "I need the gun you have, Grace," she said the second she turned back to look at the blonde-haired woman.
"No. Why? Tommy gave it to me to use," Grace was hesitant to hand it over, still clutching it close to her chest.
"You've got to trust me, Grace, I need the gun. Give me the gun, please," (Y/N) was one step away from begging now. Her heart was going a mile a minute as the countless possibilities were circling through her head. Why were these men here?...in the last place she thought they'd look for her. And how did they manage to come to her place of work?
"I'm not giving you the gun," Grace stayed steadfast.
"Give me the fucking gun, Grace. Now," (Y/N) ordered, her eyes widening as she spoke in a low voice, "between the two of us, we surely know who's the better shot," she quipped then, holding her hand out. The women held each other's gazes for a few painstakingly long moments before Grace finally handed it over with a sigh. "Thank you," (Y/N) said, not as a show of gratitude, but rather an exhale of relief because the thing that would save her was now in her hands.
She quickly opened the weapon's chamber and made sure there were bullets in it. Just as she was clicking it shut, she heard one of the men speak: "do you know where she is, Mr. Shelby?" he asked.
This sealed the men's fate. Not listening to the objections from Grace, (Y/N) cocked the gun and began walking from the hallway to the main room. She took a second to visually confirm the identities of both of the men before she fired two shots; one for each of them. Tommy, who was sitting with his back to the hallway, ducked under the table at the sound of gunfire, immediately worried that his plan had been infiltrated.
Silence fell in the room again. (Y/N) was now able to hear the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, and even though she squeezed her eyes shut tight, she wasn't able to still her shaking hands. You weren't found out. You're still safe here. They haven't gotten to you yet. She kept repeating in her mind as she tried to ground herself.
After nothing else occurred within the first few moments of silence, Tommy finally pulled himself up off of the floor. His eyes widened the second he turned around to see just how the situation had unfolded. (Y/N) was standing a few steps away from him, her eyes frantic and her hands grasped around the gun she'd just used. Grace was in the opening of the hallway, where he'd told her to wait for her cue...the cue he never got to give. A quick glance down at his person made him realize that his white collar now had blood splattered on it, confirming what he knew had happened.
"(Y/N), what the...what the fuck just happened there?" he asked once he'd gotten his voice back from the initial shock he faced. He was confused as to why the woman who'd been only working there for a few weeks had just come out and shot two men. She didn't respond to him and looked like she was in some sort of trance, so he stepped over to her, carefully reaching out for the gun in her hand. "Hey," he called to her as he slowly wrapped his hand around the weapon, "(Y/N)...what's going on?"
The second she felt his hand touch hers, she snapped back to reality and quickly became aware of what was going on. The blood on his collar reminded her of what she'd just done. She released her hold on the gun, making it drop to the floor instead of to Tommy's hand. "They...they were coming for me," she stammered as her eyes found the bodies of the two men lying on the floor, "I...I've got...gotta go," she stumbled over her words as her frantic eyes found Tommy's. She was able to see the confusion in them, but had no desire to make him understand what just happened. So she quickly pushed herself past him and rushed to the door of the tavern.
A policeman was entering the building as she was leaving, so she pushed past him too. Surely he wouldn't have suspected a woman to kill those two men...even if she was leaving the premises rather quickly. Right now all she wanted to do was get into the safety of her apartment.
——
The fact that she had the next two days off from work at the Garrison felt like a blessing to (Y/N). She was still reeling from the events that had transpired that night. But the days passed by too quick and soon enough, she was due back in the stockroom.
Her shift started off well. She was needed in the back so that she could unpack the most recent delivery that the bar had gotten, which meant she was by herself. Grace had just barely said hi to her when she noticed that she was there. (Y/N) was fine with that though. She'd been feeling more and more weary about the blonde-haired woman since that night.
The day was about halfway over when she heard her name being called from the entry of the stockroom. Looking up, she saw Tommy Shelby standing with an expectant look on his face. "Can I do something for you, Mr. Shelby?" she asked, eager to help out in any way possible.
"Can I have a word with you?" he asked her.
"Sure," (Y/N) nodded.
"Follow me," he then beckoned her out of the room. She quickly sat down the rag in her hands and hurried out of the stockroom, seeing that he was just about to the end of the hall. She followed him into the office she knew that Arthur Shelby used whenever he came to oversee the bar. "Sit," he instructed her, motioning to one of the wooden chairs as he took a seat in the leather one behind the desk.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Shelby?" she couldn't stop herself from asking as she clasped her hands together in her lap.
"Not necessarily, no," Tommy shook his head, clearing his throat before he pulled a cigarette out of its pack and lit it with a match. "You said your name was (Y/N) Williams, correct?" he asked her, smoke billowing out as he spoke.
"Yes, that is my name," (Y/N) nodded, wondering where he was going with this.
Tommy pursed his lips, as if he was trying to think of a perfect way to say what was on his mind. (Y/N) waited on eggshells as the anticipation grew with each silent second that passed. "You gave us a fake name," he finally said, making (Y/N)'s heart drop to her stomach.
Immediately she began trying to disprove him. "No, I didn't, I..."
"Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," Tommy cut her off.
"Please don't say that name," (Y/N) whispered, cringing at the sound of it as she squeezed her eyes shut. That name was exactly what she was running from.
Tommy continued without comment on her plea. "You're father and brothers lead the Weller Boys. You're originally from Sheffield, but yet you've found yourself in Birmingham. These two cities are nowhere near in the same vicinity. Perhaps there are other reasons behind your desire to live here?" he asked, his eyebrows raised intently, "and can you explain to me why I've just had two Weller Boys visit my pub a few nights ago?"
(Y/N) took a deep breath, trying to stop the emotions she'd been suppressing for days now from coming up again. She then opened her eyes and looked at Tommy, making sure that she held his gaze as she began speaking: "I may be tied into them by my family, but I am not a Weller. My father was married into the gang because my mother was an only child and they believed that a woman was not capable enough to run the enterprise. My brothers are the heads of it now...my father's stepped back. They were trying to control every aspect of my life; what I did for a living, who I was and wasn't able to see or spend time with. I wanted out. So I ran to the last place that I thought they'd look for me, which was Birmingham."
"And why did two Weller Boys show up at my pub a few nights ago?" Tommy reasked the second question he had.
(Y/N) couldn't stop the snort from leaving her lips. "Those men were barely Weller Boys. They were two low level street soldiers who'd do anything to make it up in the ranks...obviously," she paused after calling back to the meeting that had been set up, "they knew who I am, and knowing my brothers, they were probably also sent here looking for me," she finished by raising her eyebrows. Tommy only pursed his lips in response, not looking completely sold on the idea. (Y/N) sighed at that, shaking her head slightly before she spoke again: "I killed both of them, didn't I? Why would I've done that if I was on the same side as them?" She stared at him with raised eyebrows then, the fact that she hadn't looked away once while she was telling her side showing Tommy that she was speaking the truth. After a few more moments of silence passed, (Y/N) let out a sigh, "look...I fled to Birmingham so that I could be safe. I didn't intend to get mixed up in any more gang activity. I want to be away from all of it to be honest with you."
"You will be safe as long as you're in Birmingham," Tommy told her, seriousness in his voice.
"I will...?" (Y/N) responded, her statement sounding like a confused question.
"You're in my city now, and I keep the people in my city safe," he told her. The way he spoke made (Y/N) believe him immediately. She couldn’t help but smile slightly, taking solace in his words.
“Thank you, Mr. Shelby. That’s...you have no idea how relieved that makes me feel,” she thanked him, her smile growing.
“There’s no need to thank me...” he trailed off as he stood from the chair, brushing off her gratitude with a wave of his hand, “I just expect for there to be no more close calls in the future,” he finished his statement with a wink and a slight grin, calling back to the predicament they found themselves in a few nights ago.
(Y/N) laughed slightly at his second statement, “I will make sure of that,” she assured him before she stood as well.
Tommy nodded slightly at her statement before they both exited the office. Tommy turned back to go to the bar while (Y/N) went the opposite direction to return to the stockroom. She couldn’t stop the smile from forming on her face as she resumed the job she started earlier. Things could only go up from here.
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Next Part
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Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicallovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist
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notesonartistry · 7 months
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I feel so bad for Taylor because we are the ones and specially the media who are up her personal business. She doesn't post her whereabouts and what she's doing etc and for people to say they are sick of her being everywhere. That's not her fault! We are the ones who are invading her personal space.
Honestly, I think it's good for all of us to think about our consumption of people's lives and how it affects them, but it's also something that Taylor accepts as part of her fame and I actually think she's more aware than ever about how to keep it manageable for herself. Of course, that doesn't mean she likes it, and there are definitely people (maybe fans, maybe just people wanting a viral post) who overstep the mark - tracking jets, sharing and turning up at places where she's seen, hanging around outside her home. The media just follow the money - there's so much demand for Taylor that it's worth their while to document everything. If people stop clicking, they'll move on to someone else, but I can't see it changing in any significant way any time soon.
I just ignore people complaining about her being everywhere. There are plenty of tools available to filter content on social media, they don't need to click on any of the articles and the coverage of her attending the games has already calmed down a lot from the first couple. Sometimes I think people just like to be contrary and complain to show that they're different from everyone else.
Taylor is doing what she can to balance things while also living her life and promoting her music. She seems to be happy right now, although I'm sure that sometimes it all gets frustrating. She loves the connection with fans, but we've also seen her talk (e.g. in Miss Americana) about her discomfort with people overstepping boundaries. You'll struggle to get many of the people doing that to change though, so all you can do is be conscious of your own actions.
I feel like this perhaps reads as me being unsympathetic, and I'm really not, I hate to see her being hounded all the time, but Taylor has been in this industry for over 17 years now and she knows the scrutiny that it brings. I trust her ability to weigh up the situation and make her own choices. She has great people around her to support her too. I wish people would give her space to live, and that the media would back off, but that's not the reality of the situation.
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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year
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Chapter 3
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Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?
Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action and angst - all the good stuff!
Also available on AO3 
Masterlist
——————————————————
CHAPTER 3
Calina hummed along to the tune playing through her earbuds as she entered her apartment building. Of the hundreds of tracks she’d listened to over the past few weeks, she’d found 46 that she’d liked enough to add to her playlist. And of those 46, this one was by far her favourite.
Her favourite.
The concept was still so new and exciting that it made her smile.
That smile dropped when she noticed the resident of 2C shuffling towards the elevator. When the elderly lady had dropped her bag the other day, Calina's first instinct had been to pick it up and help her, but her years of conditioning had blocked the altruistic impulse before she could move a muscle. By the time she'd shaken off her training, another neighbour had already come to the rescue. Calina had been gifted with a sour look from the do-gooder, and she was left with a feeling of shame and guilt every time she encountered the lady from 2C.
Not wanting to share a ride with the source of that shame and guilt, Calina pushed open the door to the stairwell and jogged up the six flights to her floor.
Where she was greeted with another source of shame and guilt - the petite blond woman leaning against her apartment door.
What was she doing here?
The outfit she was wearing was…unexpected. An eclectic mis-mash of colours and fabrics that Calina would never have thought to pair together. Although, to be fair, like her taste in music, her fashion sense was only just starting to evolve. So far she’d struggled to move away from her usual black, but she had developed a fondness for expensive leather and silk and cashmere - sumptuous fabrics that she loved to run her hands over and which felt decadent against her skin. She carried her latest online purchase under her right arm - a satin camisole and a pair of wool wide-leg pants - and she’d been looking forward to trying them on this evening.
But it looked like her plans had changed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked her visitor.
The clothing may have been different, but the cool, assessing eyes that trained on Calina were very familiar. “What? I can’t come visit my favourite sister?”
Calina rolled her eyes. “I’m not your favourite.” She’s wasn’t her sister either. But the two of them were bonded by something far more powerful than blood.
“You’re my favourite today,” was the reply.
Calina raised an eyebrow. “Which means you want something.”
“Busted.”
“What’s going on?” Calina asked.
“Can we talk somewhere more private?”
As if to underscore the lack of privacy, the elevator doors opened and her neighbour stepped out.
Matthew.
The lawyer.
The very attractive lawyer.
And the blind man who could perceive more than he was letting on.
“Let’s go out,” she suggested to her visitor. “There’s a nice coffee shop a block away.”
“What about your apartment?”
“It’s too messy.”
That wasn’t true. There wasn’t enough…stuff…for it to be messy. But it was her space - a little piece of the world she could call her own - and she was slowly filling it with the things she liked. Making it into a home, and planning her future within its wall.
The thought of her past invading it was…unpleasant.
Luckily, Matthew cut off any objection her ‘sister’ might have had. “Hi,” he said in greeting, his voice warmer that she'd ever heard it. “Are you talking about The Hideout on 10th? I like that place too.”
“Yes,” she replied, grabbing her sister’s arm and practically pulling her down the hallway. “Goodbye, Matthew.”
He tilted his head and she could feel the confusion radiating off him. “Goodbye.”
“Rude!” her sister complained as the elevator doors closed, blocking them from her neighbour’s view. “I didn’t get a chance to say hello.”
And I hope you never do, Calina thought.
———
They didn’t speak again until they were inside the coffee shop. Calina had discovered the place her first week in Hell’s Kitchen and had fallen in love with it. She loved the bustle of people coming and going, the comfy arm chairs by the fire in the corner, the oversized mugs, and the aroma of freshly baked brownies.
But what she loved the most was the feeling she got when she took a seat by the window, sipped on her drink and just watched the world go by. It felt so normal.
She felt normal in this place.
Just a stranger among many, wiling away the hours.
She was loathe to introduce her past to this special place - almost as much as her apartment - but she’d panicked a bit upon seeing Matthew. She was struck by the urge to get her sister - and the secrets they shared - as far away from him as possible. There was more to him than met the eye. And until she figured what it was exactly, she needed to keep her distance.
She took a sip of her foam-topped spiced toffee latte, eyeing her companion as she did the same, curious what her reaction would be to the indulgent drink.
“Ugh,” was the verdict. “How can you like that? It's so sweet.”
“I like it because its sweet,” Calina replied. “Because it’s frivolous and unnecessary and not nutritionally valuable.”
“So its a rebellion.”
She shrugged. “I guess so.”
“I get it.”
Judging by her loud and completely indiscrete outfit, Calina figured she did.
A few moments more passed in companionable silence. It was nice to be with someone she didn’t have to pretend with. Someone who knew her, and everything she’d been through. The weight of their past settled over them like a blanket, one woven from trauma and pain; oppressive and painful, but comforting in its familiarity.
But as the minutes passed Calina started to feel anxiety creeping in at the edges. She needed to know what this visit meant - and what help was needed from her. She placed her drink down on the table and leaned back in her chair. “Okay. Spill it. What’s going on?”
Yelena Belova shrugged and offered her a sad smile. “The Widows need you back.”
———
The emergency lights strobed in flashes of red, and the floor lurched underfoot as the Red Room slowly fell from the sky. But Calina had no thoughts of saving herself. She had been given a command - kill the Black Widow.
The traitor, Natasha Romanov.  
Calina spun and kicked at Romanov's legs. The older widow jumped up to avoid the attack, then stumbled forward as Anya landed a punch to her back. The Widows circled her, moving closer. The traitor was outnumbered. She would be dead in moments-
But then...an explosion...a  red mist, stinging her eyes...
Calina woke with a gasp, her heart thundering in her ears. She pawed at the lamp on her bedside table, exhaling in relief when she found the switch and light flooded the room.
Light which proved she was in her own bed.
In her own apartment.
Not there.
She collapsed back on the mattress and scrubbed her face with her hands. The nightmare was always the same, her brain tormenting her with the memory of the worst moment of her life. The moment of awakening. The moment when the fog of mind control lifted and she grasped just how violated she’d been.
Used, and manipulated, and sent out in the world to do horrible things against her will.
Again and again and again.
She sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed. She wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight - she never did after one of those dreams. So she padded to her bathroom, stripped off her slightly damp pyjamas and hopped in the shower.
She tried to kid herself that she was merely washing off the sweat induced by the nightmare. But the truth was, she always felt…dirty…after one of those dreams. Like a layer of grime covered her, particles of shame and revulsion clinging to her pores.
The shower helped a bit. But the fresh air and the night sky helped more.
Once dried and dressed, she stepped into the shoes by her door but left her cardigan where it was - draped over the arm of the couch. She loved wrapping herself in the thick, cosy layer of baby-soft wool but not on a night like tonight, when the scorching heat of the day had barely dissipated and a blanket of humid moisture replaced the air.
Pointedly ignoring the dossier that now sat on her kitchen table, she slipped out of the door and up to the roof.
When the comforting skyline of her new home came into view, when the warm breeze danced around her, when she tipped her head back and saw the tapestry of stars overhead…only then did her breathing truly even out.
After deciding to leave the other Widows and go it alone, she’d had her pick of literally any city on earth to live.  And she’d opted for New York. She’d had a mission here several years ago and had been seduced by the rich vitality of the place. The way it seemed to have a life of its own that transcended its citizens. She loved the anonymity it afforded, the way a person could get swallowed up and lost among the 8 million other inhabitants. And she loved the way the city embodied the American dream - the notion that a person could make anything of themselves here.
So yeah, choosing to live in New York had been an easy call, for many reasons.
But choosing this particular apartment building, had been down to one reason and one reason only - the rooftop access.
She only truly felt free when she was up high under the vast expanse of the sky, no walls in sight, no barriers keeping her contained. The ability to climb one short flight of stairs and step out onto this roof at any time of the day or night was a gift she would never take for granted.
She breathed deeply as she paced along the length and breadth of the space, the repetitive motion banishing the last lingering traces of her nightmare. It wasn’t surprising that the dream had come tonight. There was usually no trigger for it that she could discern, but Yelena’s unexpected visit had brought everything in her past bubbling to the surface.
The dossier that she’d spent an hour studying before falling asleep also hadn’t helped.
Yelena had handed her the file in the coffee shop after asking her to come back. “It’s only for one job,” she’d explained. “I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t desperate. I know you wanted out.” Her words were tinged with contempt.
Calina sighed. Yelena had never understood her decision, had always made Calina feel guilty for wanting to leave her past behind.  “I always said I would help if you needed me. If there was a Widow who needed me.”
“There is. It's Katya.”
“You found her?” Calina leaned forward. Very few of the Widows had been present in the Red Room when it went down. Most had been out on assignment, and Yelena and the others had been tracking them down one by one in order to administer the counter-agent to the mind control serum.
Melina Vostokoff - a former Widow - had created an unlimited supply of the antidote. A way to make amends for her part in creating the mind controlling serum. So now it was just a matter of finding the other women and freeing them. They’d been pretty successful over the past few months, but a few of the Widows were so deep undercover that locating them had proven difficult.
Like Katya.
She had ‘graduated’ the red room in the same class as Yelena and Calina. That hadn’t made them friends by any stretch. They weren’t allowed to form those kinds of bonds - they were too busy being pitched against each other.  But they were bound together by shared trauma, and that fostered a certain respect between them. A feeling of solidarity.
It had nagged at Calina that she had left the Widows before Katya had been found.
She would absolutely help get her back.
“We found her,” Yelena confirmed.
“What do you know?”
“She’s embedded with the Japanese ambassador in South Korea. Dreykov was planning to reignite hostilities between the two countries, to weaken their growing economies. Katya’s playing bodyguard, and apparently feeding misinformation to the diplomat and and stoking his latent resentment.”
“She was always good at that.”
All of the Widows had the same basic training. They’d all mastered the same set of skills that made Widows so formidable - hand-to-hand combat, acrobatics, weapons training, espionage and more. But along the way, each Widow found their ‘speciality’ - an aspect of training that they particularly excelled at. Trainers would then hone those abilities and handlers would tailor their missions around them.
Yelena’s specialty lay in killing. She had a sniper’s precision, and a ruthlessness which made her a formidable assassin.
Katya was adept at manipulation. Finding a target’s weakness and exploiting it. Or nurturing it, depending on the objective.
Anya - another one of their classmates - was a computer genius and master hacker.
Calina was an expert at infiltration. Deep undercover work. Her looks were adaptable to multiple different disguises. She was an uncanny mimic of accents and voices. She spoke multiple languages fluently…and the Red Room had systematically and completely wiped her innate personality, until she was the perfect blank slate. A barren field in which any persona could take root.
“What’s our in?” Calina asked.
“We’ve got to hit the ambassador’s house and corner Katya there. It’s our only option - there are too many variables outside. But the place is a fortress with a private army of guards. We need someone who can get in discretely, and then get out again with minimal disruption. If it turns into a gunfight we risk exposing the Widows.”
They were all flying under the radar of the World’s governments. Romanov had kept their existence a secret after the Red Room fell, and now they were operating independently, trying to keep out of reach of the Sokovia Accords.
Sparking off a diplomatic incident would definitely put them in reach.
“So who do you need me to be?” Calina asked.
“Erin Brownly, personal assistant to the ambassador. You’re a similar height and build and we can use the nano mask to match her face. The trick is the voice. She speaks fluent Japanese and Korean, but with a British accent. There are a few recordings on the thumb drive in here.” Yelena dug out a brown envelope from her satchel and slid it across the table.
Calina glanced inside to find a dossier on Brownly and a USB stick. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”
Yelena huffed out a laugh. “Only you would say that. Its why we needed to bring you in on this. But I'm...I'm sorry. For what its worth.”
Calina was surprised. Maybe she had imagined the contempt from before. Maybe Yelena did understand. Or was at least trying to.
Either way...“Its worth a lot. But you don’t need to apologise. I agreed to help when needed - I want to help-”
“But I know you wanted to go and build a boring life-”
“I never said boring,” Calina objected.
“-in your boring apartment, next to your boring neighbour.”
“He’s not boring!”
Yelena raised an eyebrow, and a slow smile overtook her face, making her look almost impish. It was such a change from the steely, cold Yelena of the past that Calina barely recognised her. It looked like Calina wasn't the only Widow who was uncovering her true nature from beneath the Red Room's conditioning.
And Yelena's true nature appeared to be a troublemaker.
“Oooh, Calina has a crush! Tell me everything.”
And a gossip.
Calina groaned. “I don’t have a crush.”
“Why not? He’s pretty cute, if you like that tall, bland and built look.”
Calina held back her instinctive scoff. He wasn’t cute. Cute was for puppies and boyband members. Matthew was handsome. An old-fashioned term, but it fit. He was classically handsome. With his height and his broad shoulders and his sharp, stubbled jaw and his deep, measured voice…
But it wasn’t his features that made him interesting. Good-looking men could be very boring, Calina knew that first hand. It was the other details that she’d noticed that made him distinctly not-bland. “There’s something about him-”
“I knew it!”
“Would you listen!” Calina laughed, and realised she was enjoying herself. When she'd seen Yelena outside her apartment earlier she'd been braced for another lecture. Another guilt-trip.
She hadn't expected to laugh and joke with her. It was almost like they were true sisters.
Yelena smiled in response. “Sorry, go ahead.”
“There’s something strange about him," Calina explained. "About the way he moves when he doesn’t think anyone’s watching. With a confidence and purpose, as if he can see. And the other day, I kind of…reacted…when he got too close, and he blocked my attack. Grabbed my arm as if he knew where it was - and he was strong. He also gets hurt a lot. Bruises on his face, and he holds himself a certain way when his chest or back is sore…”
Calina tailed off as she noticed Yelena’s frown. “What?” she asked nervously.
“You’ve been watching him a lot, then.”
She had. She could admit that.
The first time she’d really noticed him had been the morning his friend - and business partner - had visited. She’d left her apartment for her daily run and had almost collided with the sandy-haired man in the corridor. He’d introduced himself as ‘Foggy’, one of the strangest nicknames she’d ever heard. Then he had asked her if she had a nickname, and it had thrown her a bit. She must have looked like a clueless idiot as she floundered in the conversation - something her trainers in the Red Room would have beaten her for if it had happened on assignment.
She knew about nicknames of course - it was common practice to in Russia for people to call each other by the diminutive forms of their names. But it was something done between family members. Or friends. Or lovers. It was a gesture of affection, the spoken equivalent of a hug or a pat on the back.
There was no affection in the Red Room.
Growing up, when she was called anything besides ‘girl’ or ‘Wretched Failure’ it was always her full name. And after she graduated and the missions began, she was addressed by her designation - Widow 118.
So, no, she had never had a nickname.
And while explaining this to Foggy, she'd heard the light footsteps of the man in apartment 6A. She'd seen his shadow beneath the crack of the door a split second before it opened, so she was ready for it when he pulled it open.
Or so she'd thought. It had taken all her training to remain calm and poised when the unexpected jolt of attraction had hit her.
For the first time in her life.
To the old Calina, men were simply targets. Names in files. Existing solely to be used, seduced, killed - all on the orders of other men. The men who controlled her life. 
Men had never been objects of beauty that she just wanted to look at. But to the new Calina - the one slowly trying to find out what she liked and what she wanted from this life - Matthew was a man she wanted to look at.
All the time.
So...she did.
She started pacing the end of her morning run to coincide with him leaving for work; she would slow to a jog on the opposite side of the street and watch him as he turned left out of their building and guided himself down the street with his cane. She would wait in The Hideout for him to pass by on his way home, or time her daily mail collection so that she could occasionally ride in the elevator with him.
And during the course of those sort-of encounters she had started to notice things about him. Things that only someone with her training and observational skills would detect.
Like the way he would tighten the muscles of his arm, drawing it to his side as he passed someone on the street, as if he knew they were about to bump into them. The way he would suddenly cock his head, as if picking up something no one else could hear. The way his mouth would open and his tongue would dart out, as if tasting the air...
Slight movements.  
Subtle. Almost innocuous.
Unlike the incident with the boxes. That had not been subtle. And it had been the biggest clue yet that there was something different about Matthew Murdock.  
She’d known he was in the mail area with her - she had timed her arrival home on purpose. But something about the way that he had suddenly stepped close behind her, his arm outstretched, had triggered her instincts. And she’d reacted without thought to the feeling of threat.
And he’d responded in kind.
He’d been quick. Accurate. And strong.
Really strong.  
Not wanting to give him an opening to ask her how or why she had attacked him, she had ignored the evidence of his own training. And in the elevator afterwards she had deflected his questions, not feeling confident enough to keep up the charade of her cover story.
Something else her trainers would have punished her for.
Severely.
“Is that a bad thing?" Calina eventually responded. "Keeping an eye on my neighbour? I need to know who I’m living next to.”
“That’s sensible,” Yelena agreed. “But don’t get too close. I’m worried you could get hurt. You were always more…sensitive than the rest of us.”
Thinking back on the conversation from the safety of the rooftop, Calina was touched that Yelena apparently cared about her - if a little insulted that she was viewed as ‘sensitive’. The way Yelena had said the word sounded like a weakness.
But Calina wasn’t weak. She had survived every bit of the same training as Yelena.
And more.  
Besides, she wasn’t looking to get close to anyone. Not when her life was so uncertain. And definitely not when she was about to undertake a dangerous, diplomatically fraught mission on foreign soil to rescue one of her sisters.
She couldn’t afford to be distracted by a handsome lawyer.
A handsome lawyer…who was standing behind her on the rooftop.
----------
CHAPTER 4
So I hope Calina’s slightly strange actions in the first couple of chapters make more sense now! Did anyone guess her secret? And how do you think Matt will react when he discovers it...?
Taglist: @hollandorks, @yanna-banana​
If you’d like to be added, let me know!
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cloudroots · 7 months
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This is High Note the pony that I ship Fluttershy with in this universe! A random background pony who I liked the design of!
Let me say before we continue that I know the similarities between the designs of Mr. Shy and High Note. Whenever I draw Fluttershy's family I will make sure the guys much more green in their hue, so they don't look as similar. I actually did find High Note, before Fluttershy's family was even introduced, but I don't have much evidence for that. Let it be known that the two character aren't related in any way. I just thought Note looked cute, thank you for understanding. 
Anyway back to it! When I first made my Next Gen there weren't many shipping options that I liked for Fluttershy, in fact there wasn't many notable characters at all really. So younger me spent quite a while just looking through the wiki at all the background ponies to find a design that stood out. I ended up finding High Note, who I thought had nice colors and looked very cute. Also he had a music cutiemark which I thought fit well into a Fluttershy family idea. I also compiled some of his appearances, I really want to look at this boi. He has the same mane as Caramel, because that's how background design were like back then, I ended up changing Note's mane to differentiate the two more. 
1: High Note is a resident of ponyville, and has been for the whole time of the show, even a long time before then. He's a pretty active member of the community, he went to events and such. 
Note is a singer, sometimes a song writer. He is quite quiet, very kind hearted, understanding and a good listener. He is socially awkward, but he tries his best. He has a rather innocent and pure mind, even though he knows about how mean the world is he still is very warm hearted. Note loves his long hair and dressing more traditionally more feminine. He also doesn't care much for gender roles either. He is a little bit of a hippy and has an admiration for such people who care for others and the planet. When he gets closer and more comfortable with someone, he's more loud and enthusiastic. He also just sings all the time to himself. He's a real choir/ theater kid type.
High Note is more comfortable when he's preforming, and becomes incredibly expressive and confident. He feels as though can only be this confident when he's in a group like in a choir or a much smaller group, but he still needs others around. He also has a talent for theater, but mostly just musicals. He is an expert at belting and hitting those high notes. 
2: Even before the two actually met, High Note knew of Fluttershy. I guess you become a little well know after saving the world a few times, and also being a fashion icon for a short period of time. Note thinks Flutters is very pretty and wants to get to get to know her more, since they already live in the same town. Maybe even become friends? He basically just has a very cute and innocent crush on her.
3: His heart flutters whenever he sees he sees her in town, but he thinks she's too busy with life. He also doesn't want to bother her or invade her space, so he ends up just working on himself. 
4: He's quite lonely so works on preforming. He does some theater, and whatever vocal performances are available. He becomes parts of public and private choirs around the Ponyville area, but nothing too fancy. He makes some friends while doing these things and is having a good time. Whenever he's preforming he becomes a little cocky and his this aura about him. 
5: The mane 6 then all go together to one of High Note's choir concerts, and in this concert he has a solo in one of the songs. Fluttershy is impressed with him and now has a little crush of her own. 
6: Fluttershy doesn't pay too much attention when she's out on the town, especially when she's just getting groceries. Now, though she starts notices High Note around, and she looks around to see him. She never really noticed him before. Fluttershy goes to more of his performances off and on. Note saw a glimpse of Fluttershy at one of his performances, and starts feelings his heart flutter again. He hopes she liked the show, and his solos. 
They both have cute crushes now, and look for each other in town so they can look from afar. If they ever make eye contact, it's not for very long since they quickly look away and are blushy the rest of the day.
7: One of the days Fluttershy is out on the town with her friends, and looks for High Note and gets all sighy. Rarity notices her, she leans in and asks, "Have you made a move yet, darling?"
Fluttershy surprised answers with a red face, "I-I don't know what you mean"
"It's alright if you have a crush, dear. I noticed how you can't keep your eyes off that stallion, but I could be mistaken."
The yellow mare looks down in embarrassment, "I don't think I could build up the courage to even talk to him"
"I could help, if you want me to dear." Rarity offers.
The rest of the mane 6 talking among themselves, then Pinkie trots over to the two mares, and asks with squinted eyes, "What are you two at? OH, I KNOW HIM!"
"Really?" Fluttershy asks quietly. 
"Yep, I know pretty much everyone in Ponyville," Pinkie answers proudly. "And that's High Note!"*GASP*"I could totally introduce you guys!"
"I don't know about that."
"Well, whenever you're ready, we'll be here for you," Rarity tells Fluttershy.
8: At a later time, Pinkie pie, without much thought, pushes Fluttershy into High Note. Both are shocked, and Fluttershy is as red a tomato. "Are you alright, miss?" asks Note. She nods, walks away a little, then runs. 
9: Now the two are too embarrassed to look at each other even far away. Rarity sees how they're kind of a lost cause. Being the romantic she is, and wants her friends at least to have the chance of relationship.
10: She takes matters into her own hooves. At least a little bit. Rarity plans a little singer's get together and invites them both. Before she does though, she visits Fluttershy to make sure if she's really okay with going. Rarity won't force her, but will hype her up if she needs to. Rarity explains that it will be a cozy little get together, with not many ponies she doesn't know. Fluttershy hesitantly agrees. 
11: The two go together, and Rarity helped get Flutters a little dressed up. She was also there to make sure she would go and to comfort her if she wasn't feeling up to it. Fluttershy is incredibly nervous the whole walk there. Rarity tries her best to put Flutters mind at ease. When they get there, there's the Pony Tones (who Fluttershy is comfortable with), and only a few other ponies. The two friends greet some of the ponies then Fluttershy becomes full of nerves, once she spots High Note over near the wall, being friendly to whoever comes his way. 
12: Rarity gently nudges her over there, and Fluttershy goes and starts talking to him. He's a little surprised, but is friendly and happy. He starts with the talking, since this is a singer's gathering they talk about singing. She mentions that she went to some of his performances, and how impressed she was. She could never do something like that. Note is flattered by this, and tells her how he can go on stage even though he's actually quite a shy pony. They then start geeking out about musical performances they love, and how they love to sing and watch singing and dancing.  
13: The two have really hit it off, and Rarity is happy to see it. They talked for the longest time. Later into the event Rarity joins them, they seem so happy and excited. They then finally introduce their names to each other. They now have actually met and enjoy each other's company. One of two asks if they would like to hang out some other time, overjoyed the other accepts. 
14: Fluttershy and High Note's first date. The two weren't in a public place, to have more privacy. Fluttershy's friends were watching from afar for safety reasons. The mane 6 are all pretty protective of Fluttershy. They have a great time just talking again, and go on more dates. 
15: The couple go on very quiet dates, which at first they thought were platonic. They are very honest with each other, and find out they both like each other. They now go on even more dates, being picnics and such, all being far away from the generally public. 
16: The couple opening up more and more. Note being a little more loud and enthusiastic, he sings all the time. Fluttershy shows her snarky side. I love whenever she is sarcastic in the show. They have become incredibly comfortable with one another but still have boundaries that they respect.
17: They take it very slow for physical affection. They love each other very much and want to make sure the other is happy, so they had their first kiss deep into their relationship. They still prefer nose kisses and cuddles. They just don't kiss on the lips very much, they love on the check and forehead and such. These two are just very cute. They are both are the asexual spectrum, so they prefer cuddling and kisses over anything else. 
18: These two love each other very much, and have a strong bond of trust and communication. Little sweethearts these two. They were actually one of the first of the mane 6 to get married and settle down. They had a small nature themed wedding, with only friends and close family members. Some animals were there also of course! They both wore cute flower crowns, and Note might've also wore a dress. 
I once again was regretting my decisions by making such a long post again. I love how this one turned out though! The colors are so pretty, and it's all overall so soft!! I feel this is definitely a step up from the last one in quality.
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lemomentfatal · 2 years
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October 13, 2022, 1:02 pm
First thought this morning: Why this piece that pushes me towards others, when that is something I am quite anxious about, especially making phone calls, which I have always disliked. The protocol reassures me somewhat, I am following a scheme, the conversations are part of this machine for writing. The writing has to be done quickly, without judging too much, and I can write from any situation, I cannot fail.
My first job as an art student, 15 years ago, was as a telephone interviewer for a marketing research company. A large open office situated in a high-rise block. Each worker had a seat with a computer and a headset. The computer launched the calls automatically, one after the other, a questionnaire to follow, boxes to tick, satisfaction scales from 1 to 10. Mostly questions about household products, sometimes opinion polls. Most people refused the call, some aggressively. Others spoke almost too willingly, exceeding the time frame and the subject of the interview, and it saddened me, because seeking intimacy in a construction that serves to increase consumption by analysing the desire of consumers, testifies to isolation and solitude. With this project I too seek a, perhaps misplaced, form of intimacy with the public.
But mostly, in this job, I had to deal with the rejections, which I took a little too personally at 18. I could not convince people to stay on the phone with me, whereas my friend from art school, who got me the job, was one of the best interviewers at the office. She managed to finalise more interviews than most of us, which meant that she was paid better. I did not stay long in that job.
The experience of the opening yesterday is still very present. The noise, the mass of people invading and filling up the exhibition space, the gazes. I stood away from the pieces I have exhibited, so that I would not have to look at how people walk by. I did not feel like talking. A feeling of saturation.
I tell myself that I have to start making calls, that this piece has to remain light, something I can do from where ever I am. I am in the room at our friends’ place where Jules and I are staying. I unlock my phone, there are several messages in the WhatsApp group that was created for the installation of the exhibition, a lot of thank yous, emoticons of hearts, of a bouquet of flowers. Mathilde, who I asked to be my coach for this project, texts me about something else, and asks me how things are going to Paris. I write her that I am gathering strength for the first call. She texts me back that I should try to think of these calls as moments I take for myself. I sit down on the floor next to the couch. This is the first time this week that I have had some time alone. I have saved the numbers of the three cell phones carried by the mediators in the exhibition, in my contacts. When I finally call, I get directly to an answering machine, on all three phones. A little music and a soft but firm voice telling me, that "The Montrouge Municipality is not available". I listen to them a few times, I do not leave a message.  
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Let's make this moment worth the while
Pairing: JJ x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: You and JJ never liked each other. Kook vs Pogue. He annoys the shit out of you and yet you're trapped with him in the basement of the Cameron mansion.
Warnings: Smut, lowkey hate fuck
Available on: AO3
Part of: Passion lies in screams of ecstasytic dreams
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This wasn’t something you had planned or expected.
Not at all.
He was standing in front of you, fuming with anger. His face had a hint of red, his jaw was locked tight and a strangled growl left his throat.
For a moment he looked almost feral there.
“Calm down, Maybank,” you said with an annoyed huffed, looking at the locked basement door above you. He acted like this was your fault when it was clearly his.
You could hear the music and voices from above.
A normal party at the Cameron mansion. Music, alcohol, drugs, Kooks and Pogues mingled together.
Just like in this small basement where Ward stored his wine. You had been here with Sarah a couple of times. You should have known she had planned something. The second you had entered the door to the mansion earlier, there had been this smug smile on her lips but she wouldn’t tell you why.
And now here you were with the boy you hated with a burning passion. You knew the Pogues and got along with them okay-ish. Pope was the best one to deal with, you knew Kiara for quite some time, John B was okay, he was Sarah’s boyfriend after all but JJ? No fucking way. He was crazy, reckless, infuriating and for some reason, really hot when he did stupid things.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled back at you after a long moment and turned around, going up the stairs to knock against the door once more.
You could swear the music just turned up just a little bit louder.
“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming against the door with his fist one more time before going back downstairs.
“No reason to get so angry, Pogue. They’ll need new wine eventually.” You leaned back against an almost empty shelf with a sigh, shaking your head. This was stupid and had been planned.
‘Oh y/n, can you get some more wine? The bottle is already empty. There’s the Romanee Conti 1945 somewhere in the right corner, that would be amazing.’
You could still hear Sarah’s voice in your head, it had sounded strange earlier, way too sweet, way too nice and now you knew why.
“Why did they send you down anyway?” You tilted your head a little to the side and looked at the boy who had sat down on the steps of the stairs, glowering at you.
“Red cups but I don’t see them anywhere here,” he grumbled from where he was sitting. His comment made you laugh, which only made him glare more at you.
If he would have been here before, he would know there wouldn’t be a single red cup around. Probably John B’s idea to make up this ridiculous excuse.
You kept your words to yourself and sat down, leaning your head back against the shelf.
Silence wrapped itself around you two and you held his stare for a moment before looking to the ground.
You didn’t even know why you hated him so much or why he hated you the same way. Nothing bad had happened between you two when you met for the first time, Sarah introducing you to the Pogues. She was your best friend and wanted you to get along with her new friend group, which you did...except JJ.
His vibes just didn’t fit with yours, you guessed. Two different people from completely different lives. It should have been a normal dislike, a normal ‘We don’t get along’ but for some reason you just needed to see him and you got angry. His stupid smirk, the way his hair fell into his hair after the rain had poured down, the way his jaw clenched when someone made him angry, the way his throat bobbed briefly when someone mentioned his father.
“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, hating yourself for even noticing these little things about him. You didn’t even spend that much time together, barely knew anything about him and yet it felt like you already knew more than you wanted to know.
When you looked up you saw that he was still looking at you, leaning back on the stairs, his jaw still tight.
“What?” you snapped at him, not feeling comfortable with him staring at you the way he did.
“I’m just wondering,” he started and there was an edge in his voice that made you stand up the moment he did.
He walked toward you, coming to stop right in front of you, putting his hand on the shelf behind you, caging you in.
Your body tensed, you didn’t like this one bit. Men trying to get power over you was always a bad sign but you’d handle him. It was just Maybank after all.
“Wondering if this wasn’t your plan all along,” he finished his sentence, his face way too close to yours. You felt your cheeks redden a little bit, feeling the heat from his body.
You’d be a liar if you’d say he wasn’t attractive in his own, stupid way.
“Why would it be,” you hissed and put your hands on his chest, pushing him back a little, your jaw tightening when he stumbled back a little. “Do you think I enjoy being here with you in this small ass basement? Tourist girls might swoon over you and you think you’re the greatest around these parts but I’m not one of them.”
A smirk appeared on his lips and he took a step forward again, once again invading your personal space.
“At least they have a good time,” he said with a chuckle and you rolled your eyes, turning your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him.
You knew the stories about him. Picking up tourist girls, sometimes two at a time, spending the night together and then never seeing them again.
“Yeah that’s what they think because they’ve got nothing to compare,” you huffed out, arms folding over your chest. From the corner of your eye you saw his body going a little tense, knowing you’ve hit his ego with what you’ve just said.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about anyway,” he suddenly replied with a shrug. “Not like you know what’s down there.”
You couldn’t help yourself but look back at him, looking right at his stupid grin. Your look turned into a glare which only made him grin more.
“God, you’re really getting off at making me angry.” You threw your hands up in the air, wanting to go around him to slam your fist against the door yourself but he blocked your way.
“Let me through, Maybank,” you hissed in anger but he once again put his hands up on the shelf behind you, caging you with his full body.
“Maybe I do.” His voice wasn’t low and had something in it that you couldn’t quite place. “But I know you do too.”
He would not win this, not with this smug grin on his lips.
His body was pressing more against yours, his leg between yours, his face only inches away.
You couldn’t stop the heat that was starting to pool between your legs. Fuck. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but the way he stood here, so close with no one else around, his heat radiating off his body, his face so close.
“You might be right,” you suddenly blurted out without thinking and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into an aggressive kiss.
JJ gasped in surprise as if he didn’t expect to get this reaction out of you but answered to the kiss with the same aggression.
The kiss involved a lot of biting and nibbling, two people trying to dominate the other only to pull back for a breath at the same time.
His eyes had darkened, his lips were swollen but it only took him a moment to recover.
He put his hands under you, lifting you up against the shelf behind you, pressing your back into the old wood while you wrapped your legs around him.
What a fucking bastard.
Now this felt more like this was his plan after all but who were you to deny getting the sexual tension and hatred out for once.
You started to fumble between the two of you, trying to rid the both of you of your pants. His slipped down easily, just swim trunks and boxer shorts but you had at least tried to look good here.
He noticed your struggle and put you down for a moment so you could push your pants down, kicking them off. You were about to pull your knickers down too but he already hoisted you back up.
“What the fuck,” you whispered in surprise but your legs wrapped around him already.
“Might need to dress quickly if they decide to check on us. Wouldn’t want them to find us like this,” he growled against your lips and you huffed. He initiated this and now he didn’t want to be found like this? Bastard.
“Yeah, probably for the better,” you agreed and kissed him again, your lips almost hurting already from the vicious way you two attacked each other.
The blonde boy shifted a little, moved his hips while holding you tight and with a swift movement, he had moved your knickers aside and slipped inside of you.
You moaned into the kiss which he only took as an invite to push his tongue inside once again while he filled you to the brink.
The tourist gossip was no lie. He was indeed quite packing, you felt the sweet stretch, the balance between pain and pleasure. He wasn’t ripping you apart but you were also feeling quite a bit of filling.
You moved your arms up to hold up on the shelf behind you, the wood digging into your back when he started to thrust into you. It was as if he wanted you to feel how much he despised you, every push on his hips forceful and almost bruising but you didn’t mind. You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
You could feel your tits swinging quite a bit, only dressed with a bikini and a small top above while he kept up his merciless pace.
For some reason you hadn’t thought about him having that much strength to hold you up and push inside of you with that much force.
Not that you had thought about him doing this to you before. Not at all.
A groan left your throat in frustration when you realized that you were too good at lying to yourself when it came to him. Another groan followed when he hoisted you up a little bit more, almost letting you fall back on his dick, hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars.
“Fuck, you feel better than expected,” he growled and leaned forward to kiss your neck, leaving small bites. Not biting hard enough to bruise but so that you would feel them for the time you were in here.
“You expected this?” you asked with a smug tone in your voice but your only answer was another deep, painful thrust inside of you that made your back arch forward.
He had anticipated this, thought about it like you did but he was very angry about it. Seems like you two were not so different when it came to that. Two sides of a coin, maybe.
His bruised lips kissed and nibbled across the soft skin on your neck and shoulder, his hardness tickling your insides the right way.
Your moans filled the small room, the air getting more heated and sticky but thankfully the music above was way louder than the two of you.
This would be your secret. No one needed to know this. You would go out of here later as if nothing had happened.
Your breath got short and irregular, it was feeling as if he was thrusting the air right out of your lungs with the pace he had picked. He clearly had experience doing this. You hated thinking about it.
One of your hands sneaked between the two of you, rubbing against the bundle of nerves, only driving you higher up, your mind fogging.
A growl left his throat when he noticed what you were doing and you could swear he was only forcing himself in harder, deeper and even faster. It was brutal and you were sure he would leave bruises over your body.
The way his hand gripped your hips hurt, the shelf pressing into you, his hips snapping against yours.
Your body started to twitch when you came closer and you were almost falling when you heard his voice. “Don’t you dare to finish before me.” It was almost a feral growl that spoke, not really sounding him like. He was out of breath, sweaty and almost desperate to spill his seed inside of you.
Normally you would have done it anyway, who was he to tell you what you had to do? But this time, you stopped listening to him. Something about his attitude towards you in this moment made you listen to him.
You hated it.
Then you moved your hand up to his face, the two fingers you had used to rub yourself running along his cheek before tapping it against his lips.
He glowered at you before opening his mouth, taking your fingers inside and swirling his tongue around them, licking your wetness off them without stopping to look at you.
You moaned at the obscenery in front of you and a low moan left your mouth. His body was twitching around you and you could start to feel yourself apart.
“Now come,” he whispered around your fingers, still licking them more tenderly than expected.
He pulled almost out completely, leaving you empty and whimpering for a moment before pushing back inside of you in one long, brutal movement, making you see stars as you fell apart around him.
You didn’t hear how a few bottles fell from the shelf, shatting beside you, all you could hear was a loud moan filling the room and you could feel yourself blushing when you realized it was yours.
He gasped and growled when he felt how your walls were clenching around him and soon enough you felt the hot cum spilling inside of you. It was warm and comfortable and you hated that you felt this way.
JJ leaned forward briefly, putting his forehead against yours before letting you back to the ground.
You almost fell forward, not able to stand, your legs shaking from the brutal abuse your body just had to deal with.
You’d be a liar if you didn’t say you loved every second of it.
“We made a mess,” you mumbled when you finally saw the broken bottles on the ground. Ward had stored so much expensive wine here, this would at least be 500 bucks or above. Not that you cared, you didn’t like this man. “We did, especially you,” he chuckled and you turned your head to glare at him but he was just pointing at his dick that was dripping with your wetness, following the drops of cum, sweat and your own juice down to the ground where you could also see a wet spot.
Your face turned crimson red from embarrassment and you looked away, trying to straighten your knickers only to realize that his cum would drip right into them when you kept them on now.
You shot him a glare and he seemed to know exactly what you meant because that smug grin was back on his lips, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I fucking hate you,” you groaned and picked up your pants, already feeling how his seed was dripping out of you and into the fabric of your panties.
“I know you do. Felt good though but then again, it never happened, right?” he asked with a shrug before putting his pants back on too.
Right when you two were dressed again and you were about to reply to him, the door opened and you saw Sarah and John B standing there.
“Oh there you are! I was looking for you!” Sarah said and walked down to you, wrapping you into a hug only to pull back and look at you with a knowing grin.
It was hard not to know. The small room smelled of sex, sweat and wine, your hair was a mess, your lips bruised. It took one look of someone with three brain cells to know what had happened here.
You glared at her. “I didn’t find the wine,” you said and she laughed, walking up the stairs with you.
“That’s fine, it seems like you’ve found something else,” your friend replied with a snicker and you groaned at her, shaking your head but couldn’t help but laugh.
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alyss01 · 3 years
Text
|[It's a family business]|
[Comfy cartel x F!reader]
Part 2
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[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]
Genre: Mafia AU / action
Word count: 2.0K
Requested: no
To request: it's possible to request a one shot for the comfy cartel AU, requests are open!
Synopsis: Corpse joins the cartel, soon you accompany him with Rae, Lily, Sykunno and Toast to a new opening casino to deal with an unpaid debt.
Warning: talk about murder, violence, alcohol consumption, blood, crimes
A/n: I'm so happy with the positive feedback this this AU has received! A lot of people are very excited about it is amazing to see. Thank you everyone that's supporting this series! Taglist is at the bottom. To be added to the taglist just send me a message!
Masterlist
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You sat in the back of the limousine Scarra had rented for the occasion. Beside you sat Rae in a similarly expensive dress as the one you wore. It complimented her long hair that faded into a lighter shade at the bottom well.
On your other side sat Lily, who wasn't much of a fan of long fancy dresses and so had opted for a black skirt with white blouse instead.
Across from you sat Toast, Corpse and Sykunno, each dressed for the occasion as well in a black suit.
It may have looked like the three were just there to accompany each of you, the reality was different, these five people all acted as your security for tonight as you sought out the target.
As the car came closer and closer to the party, you heard static come in on your ear piece, a sign that Micheal had turned on the connection.
He wasn't directly accompanying you, instead opting to stand nearby and guide you through the building if everything was to go south. He was stationed in a van near the venue that was large enough to fit all of you with ease as you fled the scene.
Instead of his signature mask, Corpse had gone for a simple black facemask to hide the biggest portion of his face.
"Garbage, bad, bad, garbage." Lily chuckled as she heard Micheal's string of curses over her earpiece, you had to stiffle a small laugh as well. Toast however, like Lily, didn't hide the smile that formed on his face. His sunglasses still on his head like always.
"What's up Micheal?" You could hear the smile in his voice as Toast spoke.
A small laugh echoed over the earpiece, "it's been awhile, Toast."
A fond smile formed on Sykunno's face as his eyes lit up, "it's great to work with you again Micheal!" He couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.
Micheal positioned his laptop on his lap as he started to type away, the soft clicking noises heard over the comms, "it indeed has been awhile, Sykunno."
You chuckled as you remarked, "as long as your planning on not tasing half the cartel, it'll be pleasant to work with you once more."
"I promise nothing." A small smile formed on your face as you listened along, Micheal truly didn't change no matter the time between speaking with him.
It didn't take much longer for you to arrive, the driver getting out to open the door first, and first the three males stepped out. They subtly, yet carefully looked around without making it obvious as the turned back to the car.
Lily was first to step out, grabbing Sykunno's offered hand as she did. Next Rae stepped out, smoothing out her dress as she too accepted Toast's offered hand who had taken Sykunno's place.
On your turn you held Corpse's hand as he offered it to you as you stepped out, the driver closing the door of the vehicle behind you.
Lily and Rae had moved to the side, allowing you some space as you looked at the red carpet leading up to the entrance of the grand building. It looked extravagant, as expected from a new casino opening.
Both Lily and Rea grabbed the arms their companions offered to them, you followed suit. Your group knew how to play the part as you approached the hall.
It was lit up, yet in the large room is still have a dim effect as music played, people were spread around talking to each other, drinking at the bar or busy with one of the games spread around the room. A grand staircase led up to a second floor, destined as VIP area.
You felt a small tug as Corpse by your side had too realized that that was where you needed to go.
A small smile played on your lips as you nodded to your female companions. The three of you led your male companions to the bar that exchanged money for tokens.
A card was in your hand as you leant on the counter, the male in charge looking you up and down as you send him a dazzling smile. He stopped as soon as he saw the glare he received from Corpse at the action and when he saw your arm linked around his.
"I'll take 3k." You send him another small smile as you slid your card through the machine, "gotta start off easy y'know." He nodded as he grew red in the face. He handed you the tokens through the little hole on the bottom of the window as Rae moved up.
Both females got their own coins as you turned to Sykunno, "keep a look out for Lily will you, betting is only part of our goal." You spoke softly as the male gave you a gentle smile and reassured you he'd watch out for her.
After that you split up, Lily pulling Sykunno to the table that displayed black jack. Rae moved with Toast to the poker area, conversing softly with each other.
The slit in your dress allowed for a convenient holster with a handgun strapped to the outside and a dagger on the inside. It was just high enough to not be seen through the slit, but low enough for easy access if things went bad.
"It was almost too easy to come in." Corpse spoke softly as a fake laugh left your lips to hide the true nature of your converdation, you guided him over to the table with a roulette machine on top of it.
"You're correct." You spoke, grabbing a glass with champagne from a plate carried by one of the workers that passed. You took a small sip as you sat down, joining the game.
Roulette was supposed to be a luck game, although you knew better than that. It wasn't your first time at one of these tables.
After having made quite a profit you stood up, bidding the baffled people at the table that had been part of the rounds goodbye.
One of them had particularly lost a lot in the small time you spent at the table, standing up angrily to follow you and demand how you had won the game before being silenced by Corpse's murderous aura.
You offered him a small smile as you thanked him, mingling with the people that stood around.
Corpse had once more offered his arm, as you wrapped your own arm around his. You had to admit, despite your first cartel task with the man, this entire night he had presented himself as quite the gentleman. Even at the cartel he hadn't seemed like a bad guy, despite the nature of his job.
Managing to lock your eyes with Sykunno, and after that Toast, they alerted their companions to stop their games. As you dropped off your glass on one of the plates in a employees hand, you ordered a cocktail at the bar before Rae and Toast arrived, and not much later Sykunno and Lily had arrived as well.
You had no intention of drinking the cocktail in your hand, but it seemed more logical to want to rest in the VIP area with a drink.
Toast picked up a champagne glass like you had done before, catching what you were doing with the glass in your free hand as you approached the stairs.
"I haven't seen the target on any of the available cameras. He's either in the V.I.P. area, his office, or the vault, everywhere else are cameras." Micheal's voice invaded your ear through the earpiece.
Humming in response, you allowed Micheal to know you had heard and understood him.
"Hello gents, mind if we head in?" Rae asked, a small smile in her voice as she looked up at the two guards. They looked at your faces, checking a notepad in one of their hands as they opened the red sash that kept the stairs off limits to the other public.
You climbed the stairs, Corpse once more offering his arm to hold on to as he held your cocktail, you gratefully used your now free hand to hold your dress out of the way of your feet. His arm gave you the support you needed in the heels you wore.
As you reached the top of the stairs you were sure the security at the bottom of the stairs couldn't hear you anymore you whispered under your breath to Corpse, "that was definitely too easy." Referencing the words he had spoken to you earlier that night.
"Micheal, you have view on us?" Lily whispered as Rae engaged in small talk with Sykunno to mask the silent conversation beside them to anyone else. Corpse handed you back the drink as you accepted it, swirling the colourful liquid around the glass.
"Of course, I have all the views." He returned, as you heard the continuous typing of his laptop.
"Except when we enter." A small smile played on Rae's lips as she lead your group to the closed door. Toast walked in first as he scanned the empty room, it was still relatively early into the night so it made sense for no one to be there yet.
The rest of you entered, Toast and Sykunno checking for any devices that could listen along with your conversations. Lily positioned a small camera in a corner and Rae helped her hide it accordingly.
"I have all the views." You could hear the smile in his voice as Micheal spoke up. You chuckled softly as Lily twisted the camera slightly as she pulled her hands away, Micheal's reaction instant, "Bad. Bad, loser girl. Bad. Gremlin. Bad."
You laughed at Lily's dejected face as she fixed the camera's angle, and was given small praise by Micheal.
"Weren't you supposed to be his Capo?" You asked, the smile from before on your lips as Toast and Sykunno gave you the thumbs up that it was safe.
"No one rules over me!" Rae laughed along at Micheal's words with you as Sykunno too, started chuckling along.
You sat down on the couch, "not gonna lie, Reeves, I prefer you in that van. That shit show from last time still traumatizes me." Toast raised a curious eyebrow as Sykunno sat down beside you. Corpse opted for a chair instead and Rae fell down on the other side of the couch as she freed her feet from her heels.
"We were a good distraction though." Toast spoke up as you scoffed, "that I can't deny."
"Micheal and Toast are a fun duo." Sykunno pouted as you smiled at him, ruffling his hair, "they're clowns." The words left Rae's mouth as a smirk formed on your face.
"they aren't clowns, they're the whole damn circus."
The group chuckled as you followed Rae's example and pulled off your heels as you wiggled your toes as they left their tight confinements.
"Gonna get a close up of those sweet feet, the screenshots will sell nicely on ebay." You swiftly pulled your legs under your dress and on the couch, "what the fuck, no! Go back to your job you gremlin."
Once more the group laughed as you hit Sykunno playfully in his arm, pouting teasingly as he continued chuckling.
_______________________________________________
Tag list: @another-fantasy-world @and-claudia @lo-manburg @stickystrawberrysyrup
(if i missed anyone, please send me another message so I can successfully add you)
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nyrandrea · 3 years
Text
Setting the Stage - Part 2
Here’s the next part, as promised! Last chapter was setting things up, now we get to the good stuff.
Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.
Link to Part 1 here!
Also available to read on A03 here!
Enjoy!
“How much farther now?”
Gregory flinched when those red eyes bore down on him as if to dare him to ask that question one more time.
“Not much!” Came the cheery reply, despite her glare.
An uncomfortable silence settled between them as Vanny continued to lead Gregory down an ill-lit tunnel, save for the tinny footsteps that echoed as they walked along the metal walkway.
She had said that the staff used this underpass as a quicker way of getting around the mall and that they would be at the Fazer Tag arena in no time, but they had been walking for what seemed like hours now.
A faint but vile odour of damp and rot clogged Gregory’s nose as he scrunched it up in disgust; the air was thick and soupy with wet must that seemed to stick to his lungs with every breath.
He stole a quick glance up at Vanny before immediately looking back down again in fear that she might catch his eye. She had been so excitable and nice to him before, but there was a different air about her now. More... reserved.
Turning back had crossed his mind once or twice, but given how tight her grip was, it didn’t seem like an option anymore.
He was really starting to regret this.
“Here we are!”
Gregory snapped out of his thoughts as they came up to what looked like a large elevator shaft with rusted doors that slowly creaked open when Vanny pressed a button. The boy swallowed and looked up at the bunny when she gave his hand a little squeeze.
He couldn’t tell if she was really smiling at him behind that large crooked grin, but he forced a smile back regardless.
It took a few moments but when the elevator finally started moving upwards, Gregory’s heart fluttered a little as he looked through the glass down towards the arena. It was quiet and empty, which made him wonder just how much time had really passed.  
There was no sign of his mom either.
A sharp, high-pitched tone suddenly rang out as they made it to the VIP room. Gregory cringed and had to cover his ears but Vanny didn’t seem bothered at all as she silently took his hand again.
Pushing all his doubts to one side, Gregory beamed as he prepared himself to finally meet Glamrock Freddy. He had gone through a bunch of speeches in his head but they all sounded dumb as hell, so he opted for a more natural approach, not that that was going to be much better.
But there was still one thing he needed.
Just as he was about to ask Vanny to get his picture back, the doors slid open.  
Gregory’s look of joy twisted into one of horror as he wasn’t greeted by Glamrock Freddy, but by four knocked out boys tied up on a sofa; the biggest one mumbling in his sleep.
Rob.
Before he could even register what was going on, Gregory was shoved to the ground with his arms forced back as Vanny dragged him towards the back.
“V-Vanny?!” The little boy yelped as she started tying his wrists together. “What are you-?!”
“Shhhhh...” she gently hummed as something sharp and metal barely pricked his throat. “I promise I’ll make this quick, okay? No need for tears, now.”
He hadn’t even noticed he’d been crying before she gently wiped the tears away with a tut-tut. The tall rabbit then set aside her knife – much to Gregory’s relief – and pulled out a small box with a familiar crescent moon on the cover.
“Told ya I’d get ‘em with Moondrop’s Sleepy-Time Candy!” she said, a hint of that cheerful tone creeping back in. “Though I’m not sure why kids would want sweets that would put them to sleep...”  
“I-I thought the exact same thing...” Gregory weakly replied.  
“Weird, right?”
“Totally...weird.”
He wasn’t even sure why he was having a conversation with this psycho, but desperation made him think that he could maybe appeal to her better nature.  
There was a moment then, in which she appeared to be wistful as she tapped her finger against the box, almost as if she were carefully considering her next move. Gregory decided to jump at this chance.
“Please... p-please let me go.”
She stopped tapping and looked directly at him. He tried to look past those bulging crimson eyes and see her for what she actually was: a fellow human being. A person. With feelings. Like him.
With another tap, a white piece of candy dropped into the palm of her hand.
“Sorry, kiddo...”
His vision suddenly went dark as she grabbed onto his face and tried to force his mouth open. The little boy kicked, thrashed and even managed to bite her at one point. He couldn’t fight back the tears streaming down his face as she quickly managed to get the upper hand; by using hers to block the airways of his nose.
“Don’t fight it...!” She hissed. “It’ll be a lot less painful that way-!”
There was a sudden shriek as something pummeled her to the floor, and Gregory gasped for breath.  
His eyes widened when they locked with Rob’s, who was lying on his side, still slightly dazed. Next to him, Vanny groaned and clutched her head.
Gregory took this fleeting moment and just about managed to slide his skinny wrists out of the loosely tied ropes before diving to Rob’s side and tried to undo the knots on his ankles first. His whole body screamed at him to run but he couldn’t just leave without trying to free the others.
“Awww...” came a sickly-sweet voice that made their blood run cold. “Are you two best buds now?”
Both boys looked up to see Vanny standing over them, her body oddly crooked as she brandished her knife.
“It’s amazing what can bring us together, huh?”
“Run!”
Rob’s shout spurred on Gregory’s legs as they propelled him forward, barely managing to dodge Vanny’s knife as she swiped at him, though she did manage to nick him on the cheek. As she tripped over Rob’s body and into the couch, Gregory used this valuable time to dash into the elevator and rapidly push the button, ignoring his guilty conscience pleading for him to go back.
As the door’s finally started closing, he mouthed “I’ll come back for you.” Though one look into Rob’s terrified eyes had told him that the older boy had already accepted his fate.
Gregory yelped and fell back as Vanny made one more plunge for him, screaming and howling in anger and despair when her knife clashed with metal as the doors sealed shut.
Stunned into silence, he could only stare ahead as the elevator slowly descended, not even flinching when that sharp chime announced his destination. The doors opened to the eerily quiet Fazer Tag arena, meaning that he must have pressed the wrong button, but that didn’t matter now.  
Adrenaline was the only thing that managed to get his jellified legs to work as he managed to get himself up and out of the elevator before it was recalled.
Muffled footsteps invaded the stillness that hung around the arena like a cloak as Gregory quickly crept towards the neon archway that led to the reception desk. The little glimmer of hope that he held was dashed when he saw that it was empty.
Gregory’s heart sunk even further when he wandered out into the mall as he was greeted with nothing but a hush. The noise and laughter and music that had been blaring just hours before was painfully amiss, along with the brightness and warmth of the sun that beamed through the glass ceiling; now replaced with cold moonlight beams cutting through the dark.
“Mom...?” he couldn’t help but weakly croak out.
No answer.
“Mom!”  
Despite the fact that it was likely that Vanny had heard him and was probably already tracking him down, Gregory shouted and pleaded and even screamed for his mother as he ran around the mall, each call becoming more and more desperate.
Why wasn’t she here? She should be here, kneeling and embracing him with open arms. Had she just left and forgotten about him? She wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t!
Hysterical and in tears, he somehow managed to loop back to where he had been before Vanny had taken him away. All the show rooms had their curtains drawn as the animatronics had likely been retired for the night.  
Slowing to a stop in front of Glamrock Freddy’s room, Gregory sniffed and sat on the floor with his knees hugged up against his chest. He tried to take slow and deep breaths as he attempted to muddle through the fog in his brain for any kind of smart idea on how to survive through the rest of tonight.
“Gregory...”
A sharp pain jabbed up from under his ribs as he quickly got to his feet, spinning around to try and locate the source of Vanny’s voice as it echoed through the mall.
“Your friends are worried about you,” she said, tone disturbingly calm and soothing. “They’re here with me. Please come out...?”
Backing up against the drapes of Glamrock Freddy’s room, Gregory slipped behind them and into the darkness of the room, peeking through the slit for any sign of movement.
“Gregory,” she tried again. “I may have lost my temper earlier...but it was just a glitch...”  
He gasped slightly as her voice started to distort, how was she even...?
“It won’t happen again.”
As soft footsteps grew closer and the shadow of a pair of tall ears materialized near the statue of Roxanne, Gregory slowly stepped back and let the gloominess of the room envelop him as he tried to control his erratic breathing.
“It’s been such a difficult day for all of us.”
Gregory could just about make out a small twinkle as her knife glinted in the moonlight.
“Why don’t you come out, and we can play a game together?”
Barely registering the stinging pain as tears ran down his face and through the small gash on his right cheek, he kept backing up until he hit something hard and metal.
“It won’t happen again.”
The little boy tried to cry out when he was suddenly yanked up by the collar of his shirt and shoved into a small, dark space. He was dazed for a moment before beads of sweat started to trail down his forehead as he felt around the four enclosed walls of his prison. It had a cold and almost plastic feel to it, and there wasn’t much room for maneuvering.  
His throat felt like it was being squeezed as he choked and struggled to breathe.
“...It was just a glitch...”
She sounded so close now, the distortions in her voice seemed to reverberate through the cage he was in. He had to escape. Run away from this place. Look for a way to free Rob. Phone the police. Find his mom.  
He had to get out now.
With trembling legs, Gregory tried to kick the walls down. He didn’t know what way was up or down but all he could do was kick. Kick. Kick!
“Gregory.”
Flinching at the different voice – deep as thunder but gentle like a breeze – the boy slowly ceased his kicking and let out sharp, shallow breaths.  
W-was this...? It couldn’t be...
“Be still.”  
A beat of silence followed.
“I think she’s found us.”
Gregory held his breath when he heard the curtains swing open and a flick of the switch as the lights buzzed to life. He could hear Vanny moving about the room, pausing every so often to look behind the arcade or the sofa. There was even a brief moment where he swore she had found him when he heard heavy breathing dead ahead. He grimaced as a light tapping of metal upon metal suddenly rung out within the hollow space.
Vanny made a sound of frustration before storming out, but Gregory didn’t dare breathe before he was sure she was gone.
He was probably starting to become blue in the face before his prison suddenly opened up. Without a moment’s hesitation, he tumbled out and landed ungracefully on his face, but he didn’t really care at this point. He was just glad to be out of the void.
There was a soft “Oh!” behind him before a pair of large metal hands carefully lifted him up from under the arms and held him steady. Staring ahead at a large blue lightning bolt upon a light brown chest, Gregory’s wide eyes slowly trailed up to see Glamrock Freddy staring right back down at him.
“Are you okay?” The animatronic asked.
The boy tried to swallow but his throat had dried up.
“I apologize for acting so abruptly,” he continued, taking off his hat and sheepishly shuffled it between his hands. “I didn’t know any other way to get you to safety before she came. But I didn’t mean to be quite so rough.”
“It’s...okay...” Gregory managed to rasp out, still not quite believing he was talking to the Glamrock Freddy. He would have been ecstatic if not for the dire situation.
“Thanks for...um...s-saving my life.”
The bear seemed to brighten up a bit at that as he put his hat back on and held out a hand.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Gregory! I do wish we could have met under more...pleasant circumstances but here we are. My name is-”
“Glamrock Freddy, I know,” he interrupted, before quickly adding, “I’m...a big fan.”
Timidly, the boy took the robot’s hand, almost yelping when it was shaken rather vigorously.  
“Always a pleasure to meet a fan!”
Vaguely reminded of when he met Vanny, Gregory berated himself for being so immediately trusting. But...this was Freddy. Surely the robots weren’t kidnapping kids too?
His eyes wandered up towards the chest compartment that he had been in just moments before. It was...quite an oddly specific function to have.
“How uh...how do you know my name?” Gregory asked, pulling his hand away a bit too quickly, though Freddy didn’t seem to mind.
“She was calling out for you.”
Alright. That was fair.
“Oh! And you also left this behind,” the robot said as he pulled out a piece of paper, smoothing out the creases before handing it over. “One of the stewards found it and brought it to me. It has your signature.”
Gregory took it and stared down at the colorful picture, snorting a little when he recognized it as his own. He should have known that those compliments from Vanny had been nothing but empty, honeyed words just to lure him into her trap. His own mother had warned him about such types of people.  
The boy almost smiled at how downright stupid he was.
“I really like the cape,” Freddy suddenly said, making him wince. “The colors are so vibrant!”
Gregory wanted to thank him for stating the obvious but couldn’t find it in him to do so. Hours ago he would have been on cloud nine hearing such praise from his hero. Now they just seemed so...hollow and meaningless.
He frowned at the picture for a few more moments before something sharp poked him on the cheek, causing him to hiss in pain and scoot back.
Freddy also recoiled and withdrew his hand, looking guilty at having hurt the boy.
“You’re bleeding...”  
Absently putting a hand to his cheek, he felt the wound that Vanny had inflicted on him earlier, and scowled when his fingers came back wet with fresh blood.
“Come with me.”
Gregory blinked in shock as the robot stood up to his full height and towered over him, realizing that he barely made it past his knee joint. He couldn’t help but feel just a tad bit intimidated.
Moving towards the back of the room, Freddy opened the metal door behind the stage curtains and made his way in. Suddenly feeling nervous at the prospect of being left alone, Gregory got up from the floor and hastily followed.
He was hit with that musty stench from the underground tunnels again, though here it wasn’t quite so strong. It was a basic room with a red carpet and brick and mortar walls with a few chairs and what seemed to be some kind of charging station – most likely for Freddy.
Gregory watched as the animatronic pulled out a red and white box from a cabinet and carried it over, opening it to reveal medical contents.  
“This will sting,” Freddy stated as he knelt down and held out an antiseptic wipe. “Can you be brave?”
“I’m not five,” Gregory mumbled back, trying not to wince when the gash started to sting.
“How old are you then? If you don’t mind my asking.”
The boy narrowed his eyes slightly, still wondering if he should even be here instead of running for the hills. Though clearly that hadn’t exactly worked out the first time.
“...Eleven,” he eventually answered.
“Hm,” the bear hummed, as if mulling over something. “You’re very mature for your age.”
“T-Thanks.”
He wasn’t really sure if he was so mature as he had just been running around screaming and crying for his mother like a lost fawn while a psychopath was on the loose just ten minutes ago, but he didn’t argue.
“There, and we’re done!” Freddy said as he smoothed a band-aid over Gregory’s wound. “How does that feel?”
“Better, thanks,” the boy replied as he lightly touched it. “And thanks again for saving my life back there. If you hadn’t, she...she would have...”
His chest tightened up a little. Freddy refused to meet his eyes as he put the box away.
“Do...do you know her?” Gregory asked. “Her name’s Vanny and-”
“No,” Freddy cut in. “I have scanned her, and she does not come up on my database. She is not staff.”
It was that sentence that starkly reminded Gregory that he was really talking to a walking, talking machine. And that took a little bit of the magic away for him...
“Yet she has access to all areas of the complex,” Freddy continued, tilting his head with an almost baffled look. “It has confused myself and the others; her skulking everywhere.”
“The others?”
“Chica, Roxanne and Montgomery.”
“Monty,” Gregory corrected.
“Hm?”
“You call him Monty in the show.”
“Ah. Yes.”
Gregory frowned a little.
“But alas, we cannot do anything about her.”
“What uh...what do you mean?” Gregory asked, suddenly feeling his blood run a bit cold.
“It goes against our programming,” Freddy bluntly replied. “We cannot harm adults.”
“You can’t...ah...” was all he could say. That just pretty much blew all of his plans out of the water.
“We tried to warn the other staff members but they wouldn’t listen, and they had the gall to complain about fixing our mainframes-”
Freddy’s ramblings just turned into white noise as Gregory stared ahead; all those cool montages of him riding in the animatronic’s chest while he kicked Vanny’s ass and rescued Rob and the others was slowly becoming less and less likely.
It was only when a metal pair of fingers snapped in front of him that brought him crashing back down to reality.
“But...!” Gregory stammered as he tried to come up with a more plausible plan. “But even if you can’t hurt her, can’t you just carry me to the front door or something?”
“Gregory-”
“Or just take me to a phone so I can call the police! You know she’s kidnapped other kids, right?”
Freddy held up his hands in an attempt to calm him down. “I did not. But-”
“Rob’s the reason I even managed to get away, we have to go help him...!”
“Gregory.”
A heavy weight on his shoulders and Freddy’s tone finally got him to shut his mouth.
“I wish I could do all those things for you, but the fact of the matter is...I can’t.”
The boy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Myself and the others are confined to our rooms at night.”
“I’m...I’m sorry, confined? By what? The curtains?”
“Security protocols.”
“But I saw you wander around earlier!”
“We are allowed to during the day, but at night our security protocols-”
“I don’t care about your security whatever!” Gregory blurted out as quietly as he could. “There is a psycho dressed as a freaking rabbit out there who is trying to kill me right now!”
He tried to push away the hands on his shoulders but was unable to as Freddy looked down upon with a sympathetic frown – one that was strikingly akin to his mom’s.
“And she’s taken these other kids hostage a-and now I have to rescue them or she’ll kill them and I just...I just want...”
His vision suddenly blurred, and he struggled to hold the tears back as he furiously wiped them away, angry at himself for getting so worked up.
Gregory’s breath hitched when he felt himself being gently pressed up against Freddy’s chest, with one hand on his head and the other on his back, steadying him. He had seen the other kids getting hugs from the animatronics before, and while he had been envious, he couldn’t help but imagine it feeling cold and a little uncomfortable.
But it was nothing like that; instead, it was warm and inviting, and it was enough to open the floodgates for Gregory as he clung onto the robot.
“I just...want...my mom...”
They stayed like that for a while, with Gregory quietly sobbing as Freddy tried to console him, rubbing small circles along his back in a soothing motion and gently patting his head as the boy eventually managed to get it all out of his system.
“Gregory,” Freddy started, making him look up as he wiped his nose. “While it may go against my programming...” the animatronic paused for a moment before smiling down at him. “I will do my best to override it.”
“Really? You mean you’ll help me?”
“Yes. I will assist you in evading that ‘psycho’, as you put it – and get you out. To the best of my ability.”
Gregory smiled back, before adding, “And the others too? I can’t leave without them.”
“The... others too,” the bear reluctantly agreed.
Wiping away the last of his tears, he nodded gratefully, perking up when Freddy opened up his chest apartment and offered his hand as a step.
Climbing up and settling in, what had felt like a claustrophobic prison now felt like a safe haven from the dangers that awaited him out there.
“Oh, before I forget,” Freddy mulled as he re-entered the show room, bending down to pick up Gregory’s drawing. “Would you like to do the honors?”
Grinning from ear to ear, he leaned out and took the drawing and a small pin from Freddy, the robot keeping him steady as he stuck the drawing up with the others. He could feel himself swell up with pride in a fleeting moment that made him forget about the horrors that awaited him.
“Now,” Freddy started as he closed his chest compartment and peeked through the curtains to check if the coast was clear. “We may need some help. How would you like to meet the others?”
xxx
A wash of light flooded across the polished checkered floors and shone up towards the golden statue of Freddy as a woman entered through the security barriers. Brushing back her golden hair and securing her cap on, she sighed as she pulled out a photograph of a young boy with messy brown hair and a huge toothy grin.
His mother had been hysterical when she entered the security office, claiming that it had been her fault for leaving him and thinking that he wouldn’t just wander off. They had looked through the camera feed but given how busy this place was during the day, it was a needle in a haystack situation.
But now that it was empty, her job would begin. She had six hours.
“Alright Gregory...” Vanessa said, putting the photo into her pocket. “Let’s see if we can find you.”
xxx
And that’s the end! I’ve decided to leave the ending a bit vague because of the whole Vanny/Vanessa debate. I’d love to write more at this point but I’ll probably wait until the game comes out (hopefully soon!) Hope you enjoyed and let me know if you did!
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wallwriterstuff · 3 years
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When You’re Lost, I’ll Leave My Gaslight On ||Yandere!Alec Volturi x Female Reader||
A request by @tiger-khans-blog Part 1: Obsession  Part 3: These Violent Delights 
Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic. 
The following link will take you to a Citizen’s Advice Page that have resources regarding Domestic abuse and violence. They detail various organisations offering support, refuge and advice for both women and men in abusive situations, however these only apply to the UK.
https://www.citizensadvice.org.uk/family/gender-violence/domestic-violence-and-abuse-getting-help/
I am from the UK and therefore am not sure about what resources may be available internationally, however I know many of you are from places outwith the UK. If you have any resources you know of that would be useful or helpful to add here then please do! You can reblog this post with link in or message me a link to have me edit it into the original. I will post this link and any that get added in all three parts of this fic that I post.
Words: 4,436 
Summary:  Alec’s actions earned him some time in the dungeons of Volterra, and he really seems to be trying his best to behave himself the second time around. However, as your relationship with him blossoms, you find yourself growing more and more insecure, unsure if things are really as they seem to be. Your descent into madness seems much slower than Alice’s fall down the rabbit hole. 
Bella didn’t even write to you. Nor did Alice or Edward, or Emmet or Jasper. Only Carlisle had bothered to contact you, expressing his deepest regret you had gotten tangled up in all of this and his promise to speak to Aro on your behalf. Carlisle’s efforts had granted you your own quarters on the opposite side of the castle, smaller and far less grand than the ones you had woken up in but entirely yours to decorate how you pleased; at least, that was what Felix and Demetri had decided. The silence from back home was bad enough but on top of that you had to come to terms with the fact you were now forced to live with vampires who had little to no respect for human life, one of which had a mental gift she had loved to use on you as punishment for turning her brother against her as she put it.
To say you were depressed would have been an understatement.
It felt beyond impossible to consider feeling anything remotely positive when nothing seemed to go right for you. The secretaries who brought you food were the only interaction you had for the first few days and they were mostly too afraid to stick around and talk to you after hearing you were Alec’s mate. You had been utterly and entirely alone. Unbeknownst to you, this was a test, one you failed miserably, and after they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of you by day 4 of your stay with them Felix and Demetri had taken it upon themselves to visit you. They were quite patient, letting you stay as far from them as you wanted while they invaded what had become your safe space, those unblinking red eyes taking in the sparse walls and boring, plain wood desk and doors. It was then that Felix had spoken up about decorating and Demetri has enthusiastically agreed this was a wonderful idea.
Felix, it turned out, was quite the talented artist. Looking at the brute you’d never imagined he could hold a pencil without snapping it in half, but he had drawn up the most beautiful sketches you could imagine as you told them what your bedroom back home had looked like, and how you had wanted to decorate it with your father. They had let you cry again at that point and looking back on it it was rather amusing to watch the two immortals – who physically had lacked the ability to tear up for over a millennia now – share a panic stricken look and throw tissues at you. By the end of the week, they had come back to your room with everything they would need for their DIY project and helped you start painting your room. You had been a little overwhelmed at their kindness, but both had waved it off as nothing and whenever they got the chance over the next week, they had helped you decorate.
You had shared music tastes, let Demetri try to interest you in poetry (even if he had failed dramatically) and even sat to watch a movie with them once while you had lunch. Still, it didn’t feel like home, just an escape from an abysmal reality.
“You know, he will be freed tomorrow.” Felix said quietly. You were in the middle of stringing up some fairy lights around the canopy of your bed when the news rendered you immobile. You barely remembered to breathe until Demetri very gently touched your waist and helped you down from your bed before you fell.
“I don’t want him to be.” You whispered, eyes ducking away from theirs. Alec had been their friend for far longer after all and the confession was cruel. Demetri sighed slightly.
“We have visited him once or twice, spoken to him. He truly does feel awful about what happened.” He promised you. It was very obvious on your face you didn’t believe him, and even if you did you were certain Alec’s behaviour was not normal, it didn’t eradicate your fear to know he wished it never happened when it seemed like he had had no control over it in the first place. If he couldn’t control it, it could very well happen again. Felix watched you carefully as you sat back against the headboard, curling your knees to your chest.
“Why…why was he like that? Is it – I mean could he…will he be like that again?” you swallowed, mouth a little dry as your heart fluttered in your chest. You felt sick, suddenly no longer curious about whatever dinner the new secretary might bring. Gianna had stopped showing up two days ago and you didn’t need to ask to know why. They shared a side long look, Felix going back to putting together the bookshelf you had repainted with him. It was a bit of a pattern, that Demetri handled your more sensitive questions – Felix just didn’t have the tact or patience for them.
“You remember our discussion on the transformation process? How we are frozen at the stage of growth we are at when we turn?” he questioned, waiting for you to nod before continuing, “Alec was turned no older than you are now, just 16, you know yourself from growing up I’m sure what a volatile time that can be. It is not that Alec wishes to scare you, just that the violence of his feelings is something he will have to learn to control.”
“The violence of his feelings?” you asked warily. Demetri hummed, head tilting.
“We feel emotion far more intensely than you, little human. Our bodies are frozen but heightened, so that we might experience everything to the fullest extent and therefore miss out on nothing. Alec is essentially a teenager seeing the girl he has a rather potent crush on for the first time, the mate pull was both entirely unexpected and strong. He admitted himself he had no way of controlling his own actions but he has meditated and spoken to master Marcus for help since. He really does not wish to put you through that again.” Demetri assured you.
“You have to give the boy some reprieve, he wasn’t exactly having fun either. Alec prides himself on his self-control, your appearance tossed it right out of the window.” Felix pointed out. You hung your head, brows furrowed. It sounded an awful lot to you like they were defending the inexcusable behaviour. He’s just a boy, he couldn’t control it, it’s not his fault…well, it didn’t change the fact it had hurt you. It had traumatised you really, so much so that even when you replayed Demetri’s words in your head in an effort to help calm yourself you still found no sleep that night knowing Alec would be at your door tomorrow.
Except he wasn’t.
He didn’t come the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that, and you hated that you were beginning to wonder if he was ever coming at all. Was this a new, peculiar kind of torture? Making you wait for him? Every knock at the door made you jump the first day or two but after that you slowly began to unwind, your heavy heart coming to the conclusion he maybe wasn’t coming back, that he felt it better to stay away from you. You almost passed out when he finally did show up at your door, standing behind Demetri as still as stone and looking jut as perfect as any sculpture could. It really wasn’t fair the boy was so pretty. Demetri gave you a warm smile.
“Good evening Y/N, do you mind if we come in little human?” he asked. You hesitated. Did you want Alec in your safe space? Your room was your sanctuary, decorated how you liked with no trace of Alec inside it as of yet. He seemed to notice your hesitation and you were surprised to see just how much anguish it brought him.
“If you prefer, we could take a walk around the Gardens? Demetri says you haven’t left your room much.” Alec said. His voice was softer now, no longer did it have the rough edge to it it had held in the throne room. You swallowed thickly, slowly nodding your head, and moved to get your shoes from by the door. Alec inhaled sharply as the shirt you were wearing rode up slightly. His arms had left to sizable bruises on your torso and he had obviously seen them. You weren’t expecting him to look so torn up about it. Demetri glanced between you both, his eyes knowing.
“I would suggest a jumper, the evenings can be somewhat chillier.” He advised. You nodded, crossing to your closet. Once you were ready, you shut the door firmly behind you and stuck close to Demetri’s side, much to Alec’s obvious ire, but the boy kept himself in check with remarkable discipline that gave you hope he could maybe be better.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice strained. Your hair fell, covering your eyes until you pushed it back with a quick nod.
“I’m okay. How are you?” the small talk was entirely forced and thoroughly unpleasant, but Demetri stood firm between you two, absorbing it all. You were more than a little grateful.
“I have…been better,” Alec confessed, “Demetri explained the…difficulty, I’m having in being around you?” he asked. The strain in his voice was growing more obvious again now but one look from Demetri forced him to settle as you shuddered, memory flashing to the violent grip his arms had on you. If he noticed your hand subconsciously go to your bruised flesh, he didn’t comment on it.
“He told me you couldn’t control your feelings.” You said quietly. Alec huffed, eyes flashing with irritation.
“It’s as upsetting to me as it is to you, to think a mere human would make me so…so…” he trailed off, trying to choose the right word. You prompted him, curious to see what he would choose. “Obsessed.” He settled for the word with such a flat tone you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around yourself, mind reeling. It wasn’t a good word. It wasn’t your preferred word. Carlisle and Esme had been mates, hadn’t they? Rosalie and Emmett? Alice and Jasper? They had proven to you if nothing else that mates should be loving, kind. It was a relationship based on mutual attraction and desire, caring, not one person’s obsession with another. It was an unhealthy word.
“Why don’t you tell Alec of our trip to the market the other week?” Demetri hedged. He was clearly acting as chaperone today as you headed out into the fading sunlight. The Gardens of Castello Volterra were magnificent, kept tidy and neat and bursting with colour. A massive expanse of green dotted with vibrant hues of flowerbeds and glorious leafy sculptures in shapes you could recognise. Horses, chess pieces. Your answers were short, quiet, and Alec seemed to have moments he was incredibly open and vulnerable before he became a little more robotic, his control slipping when he found his emotions getting the best of him again. The amount of effort he put into his composure really astounded you, and by the time you were half-way around the Walled Garden you were actually starting to feel a little bit bad. Clearly your presence really did make him suffer.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He admitted finally, fists clenched at his sides. With a sharp exhale, Alec turned to you, ruby red eyes darkening as soon as they made contact with your own Y/E/C.
“Alec-“
“Y/N, I have tortured myself over the way I behaved towards you. I am truly sorry I ever laid a hand on you. I hope that as I work on controlling myself around you, you work on being able to forgive me for that.” Alec cut Demetri off, his body rigid with tension and eyes flickering to the very slight gap left between you and the tracker as you moved closer out of instinct to the person you trusted most out of the two of them. His nostrils flared, seemingly annoyed by it.
“I…can try. But you need to promise me Alec, promise me you won’t hurt me like that ever again.” You said. Truthfully you were intrigued by him. Demetri had told you you would also feel the mate pull eventually, though not as strongly as Alec did, and your curiosity to know more about the witch twin was the start of a very deep dark hole you were about to fall into. The air turned almost ominous, like that strange moment between hearing thunder and waiting to see if there would be lightning.
“I won’t make you promises I can’t keep.” Alec’s voice was all that was left of him, as he was gone by the time you blinked again. Demetri sighed slightly, though he tried to perk up his expression when he realised you were looking helplessly to him for answers.
“Well, that went rather well, do you not agree?” he asked. What had Alec meant? He had done so well today. Clearly he was getting the hang of controlling his emotions, he could be less of a threat. You had rather liked the sweeter side of Alec you had glimpsed today, the side that told you about how Jane had planted the peonies and had chased Felix quite literally out of the city when he accidentally trampled on them once, just to hear you laugh. You liked the side of Alec that had quietly complimented the way your hair reflected the dying light while you stood and admired another topiary.
A month passed this way before you finally felt comfortable enough to be around Alec on your own. He had really tried hard to become a better man for you and it showed. His smiles were more natural and he found it easier to relax in your presence, no more uptight Alec that left you wandering when he would snap. Felix and Demetri had continued to chaperone your dates for all that time until you finally asked one night if you might be allowed to be with Alec on your own for a little bit. Demetri had enthusiastically agreed, both Guards seemingly happy you were finally letting their friend have his chance. Alec seemed to sense your nerves when you appeared in the library, where you’d both agreed to meet for an hour to two to test the waters. He was more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed while he listened to some far-off birdsong you couldn’t hear, or so you imagined.
“I wasn’t sure you would come.” He admitted. You smiled slightly, pulling your sketchbook from your bag as you sat on the opposite sofa to him.
“I said I would,” You reminded him. Alec smiled slightly, head bobbing in agreement. “What are you reading?” you asked. Alec glanced to the book beside him.
“The Picture of Dorian Gray, though I confess myself bored of it. Wilde has never been my preferred author.” Alec answered, sitting up and eyeing your sketchbook with interest. You didn’t notice, too busy flipping through your pages to find the sketch you were working on now. The lines were already drawn, you had just wanted to finish your shading today.
“How is Jane?” you asked. You wanted to chase away the silence and figured it would be a nice way to maybe broach the topic that she had avoided you like the plague. Alec didn’t answer you and when you looked up to see why you saw his eyes fixated on your sketch, nothing but awe painting his face. You flushed a deep shade of red.
“Beautiful and talented, little human.” He breathed. You were fairly sure you weren’t supposed to hear, but it only made your blush darken. It was nothing worthy of a spot in the Louvre, just a sketch of the view from the fountain in the plaza looking down one of Volterra’s many alleyways. You tucked some hair behind your ear with a small smile.
“Thank you,” you said softly, “I started it the other day, when Demetri took me to that café I told you about? Where they do those really nice pastries?” As if a switch had been flipped Alec’s face shut off, all expression wiped away and an impassive mask replacing it. It had happened so fast you were unsure anything other than apathy had ever painted his face in the first place.
“Demetri takes you out often.” He noted. There was nothing his tone or his face to give away his feelings about that, but a strong sense of foreboding settled in your gut. You shut your sketchbook, knowing deep in your chest that the damage was already done. The atmosphere in the room had changed drastically, becoming charged and electric, like it was filled with current just waiting to frazzle and consume you whole.
“Yeah…it’s nice to get out of the castle, and it’s not like I’m a prison so why shouldn’t I see the city I’ve got to live in now?” you rambled ever so slightly, voice wavering a bit, but Alec’s expression changed so quickly you were sure he was trying to give you whiplash. With a laugh he nodded his head.
“Of course.” He made no further comment and you descended into silence again until it was time to leave, your sketchbook long abandoned and your eyes fixed on him, waiting for his mood to shift again. He was perfectly respectable in every other way however, his silence easy to brush off as nothing when he kissed your knuckles chivalrously after walking you back to your room. He still hadn’t set foot in it yet despite his obvious intrigue, waiting for you to invite him in personally. When the door closed behind you, you released a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. The whole evening had gone far better than expected even with the few minor road bumps. In fact, Alec’s mood seemed to do an entire 180 compared to how he had been when you first met. He was pleasant, charming even. That was where the problem started.
One night, he bought you flowers and a pastry from your favourite café, remembering the exact kind you liked and bringing it to your door so you could enjoy a walk with him in the Gardens once more, watching the stars come out. You’d passed Felix in the corridor and waved but the giant had hurried by as though he hadn’t seen you. A few days after that Alec had promised to take you out to the markets, but the weather had been too bright for him apparently even though you had argued it was overcast enough that the chances of him exposing himself were slim to none. He had come to your room with new sketching pencils that night, an apology gift to make it up to you, he said.
It had become a theme though, you noticed. Alec would promise to take you somewhere, and then he would find one way or another to weasel his way out of taking you out.
“I never promised you anything, I said we might, your imaging things.” He would dismiss it the same way every time and always follow up with a nice gesture that made you feel bad for questioning him on it. He really did feel guilty about you not getting to go out, didn’t he? It wasn’t just that though either, it was Demetri and Felix’s absence in your life that had grown concerning. You were conscious you hadn’t seen your friends for quite some time, Alec always claiming they were busy with guard duty or some other task, yet when you caught Demetri in the corridor once he had brushed you off with the enough regret in his eyes that it made you question Alec’s entire story.
“But they always found time to at least say hello to me before, so why-“
“Y/N, my love I don’t wish to upset you, but do you really think they were ever your friends?” Alec asked. You blinked, frowning in confusion.
“Of course they’re my friends! We decorated my room together and they helped us get to know each other. I just don’t get why they aren’t around anymore.” You huffed. Alec ran his hand down your arm gently, your skin tingling at the ice-cold contact. He had slowly started to incorporate physical affection into your relationship, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t thrilled with the little touches. It was a far cry from the rough embrace he had given you nearly two months ago.
“They were fulfilling a duty tesoro, you required a room and at the Masters request they built you one, and do you really think one little human can go unguarded in this place? They were your sentries, not your friends.” His expression was so sympathetic you wondered how you couldn’t not believe him, and he’d held you to him as you cried over their obvious betrayal. As weeks dragged into another month though your anxiety only grew, and it didn’t make sense. Things between you and Alec were really good. He had much more control now and he was affectionate and sweet, always giving you little gifts and making time in his day to see you even if no one else would, but something was just…wrong. You were sure you were going mad.
You wrote home frequently to the Cullen’s so they could pass letters on to Bella, but those letters sometimes went missing and despite being sure you wrote them, Alec assured you you hadn’t and he had never seen them materialise. As sweet as he was Alec always put down your clumsy little accidents to you being human to, laughing when you tripped into his arms or holding his breath as he cleaned up scrapes for you with that dreaded little saying of his.
“You’re only human Y/N.” he chuckled, as he carefully placed a band aid around the finger you had accidentally cut while cooking yourself dinner. You sighed dejectedly.
“I wish you’d stop saying that.” You admitted. It felt like you weren’t good enough. Your human needs were a bother to him, that much was clear. He always had to take time to make sure you had something to eat when he really just wanted to spend his free hours with you. Most of the time when he was free you were asleep and you could only imagine how boring it must be for him to have to spend so much time alone when you were across the castle, sleeping peacefully. Bathroom breaks were another thing that gave you almost nauseating anxiety now to, and you’d scrubbed your body pink on multiple occasions wondering if your personal hygiene was assaulting his nose or not after a day or two without showering.
You needed to clear your head, you decided, so a trip to your café was in order. Alec wouldn’t be able to take you you knew, not with the sun as bright as it was right then. It would fade quickly given the late time of year but you left a note just in case Alec wondered across your empty room. It felt good, to get fresh air and to sit in a window seat, watching the world go by without a care as sweet pastry melted in your mouth. You had brought a book with you to enjoy to, a fantasy world to escape to for a little bit before your old anxieties came crawling back in. Though your relationship with Alec was as yet undefined, you felt like you were to blame for that due to your inferior status. After all, what could you possible bring to a relationship with him that would make him want to call you his mate? You were only human after all.
“Now what are you doing here little human?” Demetri’s voice startled you so much you dropped your book to the tabletop with a gasp. Heart fluttering, you couldn’t help but laugh breathless, if only to ease the tension.
“Demetri, god you scared the hell out of me.” You swallowed, not liking the way he was frowning at you.
“Well you can consider us even then.” He said, arms folding across his chest. You felt a lot like you were a child being scolded in that moment.
“What?” you asked.
“You heard me. You cannot just leave the castle Y/N, not without telling someone or at least leaving a note. There was an uproar when Alec found you gone, we thought something had happened to you.” He chided. Your frown deepened.
“But I did leave a note, I taped it to my door so Alec would see.” You protested. Demetri’s eyebrows rose.
“Not according to Alec. He found no note and I did not see anything resembling one when I came to your room to see what the fuss was about. Come on, you have had your fun. A harmless misunderstanding it may be but you will be in for a scolding from the Masters.” he sighed, holding a hand to help you out of your chair. Your stomach twisted. You were going to have to see the Masters because you’d gone out for coffee? How had Alec missed your note? You were sure you had left it on the door for him! You remembered the schluuuuck sound of sticky tape and everything as you taped it up!
“But Demetri, I swear I left a note.” You said, packing away your things as your good mood crumbled. Demetri was quiet for a moment.
“Perhaps you did and it was overlooked, either way you have scared us all enough for one day.” He took your bag from you like the gentleman he was, escorting you back to the castle. You were so sure you had left that note for Alec, as sure as you were about your own name, but what if you hadn’t? You resolved to steel your nerves for now, take your scolding and ensure you left one next time. Hell, next time you would even tell the secretary to go and tell Alec in the throne room just to be safe. You weren’t going to worry your mate like this again, it wasn’t going to become a pattern.
How wrong you were.
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ephemerlskies · 4 years
Text
constant craving 02 | jjk
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⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader
⇢ genre: drabble series, unrequited love, even bigger idiot!jungkook, a n g s t with a teeny pinch of fluff, jungkook's lil lisp IS cannon
⇢ word count: 2.3k
⇢ warnings: explicit language, jungkook's undying oblivion syndrome, incessant pining, dysfunctional communication (or lack thereof), most of this is just arguing
⇢ summary: there are countless things to talk about with your significant other. jungkook, however, had yet to realize how often his conversations with his girlfriend were monopolized by none other than you. and he begins to wonder why others didn't see this as normal.
♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪
╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)
a/n: this picks up right where we left off! but it's in jungkook's pov... enjoy all the frustrating idiocy :)
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part two: choices
He didn't tell you the reason why at exactly six o'clock he found himself slouching on your couch, on the side he'd claimed as his own from the sheer number of times he'd been there before, relieved that Irene took him back, yet a hint of bitterness mixed in from a source he couldn't quite locate. Disappointment? Maybe, however, the reasons why were beyond his humble knowledge. Confused? Well, if he is sure of one thing, it's that he is entirely unsure.
So, when he was about to make his way back to where he should have been, Jungkook made a decision which rippled a feeling that would have been better left untouched. He looked back.
He looked back at you, staring off so decisively into the sky with shoulders rising and falling rhythmically and head tilted slightly left which meant you were deep in one of your elusive thoughts, and he considered visiting the doctor for how his stomach was uncharacteristically turning. It was more than discomfort that was paralyzing his body at the moment, and the way his hand urged to reach out to you proved that his body knew something his heart had yet to realize.
Jungkook, with all his twenty-three years of accumulated wisdom, thought it nondescript to mention that the fight, which suddenly transported him into the home of the only person he could possibly trust for thoughtful and unreserved guidance, was over you.
Three days ago
"Do you think ___ will like it?" Jungkook asked, turning the small, engraved music box over in his hand for the thousandth time, inspecting for any dents or divots that would demote it's worthiness as a gift to you.
"Yes, it's a great gift, hun." Her words sounded wrapped around entirely different words that Irene was too afraid to speak out loud. She hoped her tone could have conveyed that, however Jungkook's ears were far too preoccupied to dig past the shell of her statement.
"Maybe I should get that tote bag, I know ___ has been complaining so much about how they don't have room in their bag for everything."
Irene was trying not to notice the way his eyes hadn't once even grazed her, or how Irene's parents were visiting in a week yet Jungkook hasn't mentioned wanting to meet them, or how this was the fifth time today he's brought up the festivities of you and Jungkook's 'friendiversary', which also happened to land on the same day that her parent's planned on meeting him. When she arrived at that dead end, after making great and avoidant strides, it was time she turned around and faced the partially shameful jealousy she had been running from.
"Jungkook, you haven't even asked me how my day was." Even those words encased something much deeper she decidedly did not want to reveal yet. They delivered with the hope he would figure it out on his own.
"Oh, sorry. How was your day?" Of course, he didn't figure it out.
"That's not the point."
"What?" And afternoon about twenty minutes or so, Jungkook leveled his eyes to her for the first time today. It was then when hints of distress were revealed through the subtle redness invading where the whites of her eyes should have been and the thin, yet visible, layer of tears collecting at the base of her eyes made Jungkook realize something was wrong. "What's wrong?"
"Well..." She paused, taking in all the air she needed to get through this next phrase. "Don't you think it's a little odd that you have been talking about ___ this whole time? I mean, I get it, you guys are best friends, but Jungkook, you haven't even looked at me!"
"Sorry, I didn't know my friendship was such an issue with you." Perhaps he seasoned that last response a bit too curtly since it managed to finally spill those tears once kept at bay in her eyes.
Admittedly, he felt bad for snapping at her. In his defense, she should have known how important this was to him. She should have known how many times the image of you reacting to this gift ran through his mind during moments of the day better spent focusing on the things he was presently doing. She should have known that if your reaction to it was anything less than ecstatic then sleep and concentration would become entirely foreign concepts until he got it right.
Why couldn't she just understand that? Or, maybe the problem was she did understand. She understood it all too well.
"Maybe I do, Jungkook. God! You don't think I see the way you look at ___? You don't think I see the way ___ looks at you?" Her eyes were taking turns counting the drops of tears, eight minus the one that had already dried, that dotted the table and eyeing the napkin she'd been nervously tearing into shreds. Though it was beyond frustrating and exhausting to draw out the painfully obvious, it seemed necessary because it was being carefully illustrated for the painfully oblivious.
"What? That's bullshit, we're friends!"
"Oh, please, Jungkook. Friends don't religiously celebrate a fucking anniversary. Couples do that, people who are in love do that."
Jungkook's mouth hung open, though to no avail, since the words he couldn't even articulate in his head came out as a heavy sigh. All he could think of was your voice telling him what an idiot he was because he certainly felt that way right now. In a flash, he heard that voice of yours and more and more bits of you alchemized after that one detail. Your laugh, the soft nudge of your elbow that he swore he could feel in his side, how your eyes rolled in a way only he could identify as another nonverbal way you said you loved him.
These thoughts comforted him, possibly more than it should have. The pieces of you that puzzled together in his mind only took a few seconds for him to form, however it felt like he spent an eternity trying to picture your face. As if constructing a vision of you when you weren't there was something he'd be stuck doing for the rest of his life.
"I don't know what you're even talking about. I love you." It was, pathetically, all he could say.
"And I can't even blame ___. You were the one who made a commitment to me, Jungkook." Irene collected the bits of paper that once made a napkin into a small pile. "I'm losing you, Jungkook. And it's because of ___."
"Are you going to ask me to choose, because you know that's so unfair."
"I'm not asking you to choose one or another! I just want you to choose me, your girlfriend, for once. Because you always seem to be choosing ___!"
"Choosing? What does that even mean? You're being stupid. Why should I have to choose at all?" As senseless as he thought choosing between the two was, he began to internalize exactly what it entailed.
Through the thickly layered denial insolsting his heart, the idea of losing Irene versus losing you was the small puncture in that denial which gave entry for his true feelings seep through and take control.
Realistically, there was never a choice to begin with. There were no decisions to be made or an alternative option or an opt out of what seemed like some prophetic conclusion. The heart is far too decisive to allow space for anything but what it wants. But, the denial sat on a diligently constructed throne of self-assigned 'friendship maintenance protocols' he had taken ever since he met you.
Such as the way he would avoid too much eye contact with you to maintain a steady heart rate.
How he would conveniently favor the same snacks as you did, because he loved the look of excitement you got when he would walk in with your go-to movie snacks. And he convinced himself he actually enjoyed M&Ms, despite hating them up until the moment he learned you loved them.
The amount of times he mistook hours for minutes when you were with him, and mistook minutes for hours whenever you weren't.
The fact that all his candles just so happened to cater towards your preferences because even when you were gone, he would be reminded of you.
Those, to Jungkook, were just things friends did for each other.
"Well then, let me make it easy for you, Jungkook." Irene left. There was a hollowness haunting the space she once populated. There was a desire strong enough to cut through glass that was simmering up a storm in Jungkook's head.
There was someone that he desperately needed, so he picked up his phone and texted.
Jungkook: can i call?
You: ya sure
Present day
"My parents said that they're so excited to meet you! I'm pretty sure they're gonna give you the whole marriage talk but please ignore them." Irene's cheer was a sharp contrast to the dull indifference of Jungkook.
Not for lack of trying, there were occasional gaps in his memory ever since Irene arrived at his place after having you tell him what to say to her. And he didn't know why, but when you were talking about choosing and wanting to be with someone no matter what, it fulfilled a silent, yet perpetual hunger to hear those words that even he didn't know he needed to hear you say until you said them.
"Yeah, I..." You were probably at home right now, partaking in your daily, self-induced mild coma as he liked to call it since you were a heavier sleeper than actual lifeless bodies. "Yeah. Excited to meet them."
"Babe, is something wrong?" You seemed so sad when he left that day.
Why didn't I ask you what was wrong? He thought, as if you would have been able to answer.
"Nothing's wrong"
"Something's definitely wrong. Just tell me." Jungkook would have been honest with Irene, but he felt guilty for bringing you up. There was no reason to feel guilty about once again steering the conversation back to you, his friend — his best friend and nothing more — unless...
"Something’s definitely not wrong. I'm just nervous about meeting your parenths- Parents." The 's' on parents revealed his effortfully suppressed lisp that he'd been insecure of, that is until you heard it and called it cute.
It was one of those throw away comments that he was meant to forget in a day, even an hour, but that memory was tacked into his brain every time his lisp impeded on his speech. Before, his light cheeks would acquire that crimson flush when any word with an 's' came up through his tongue in a way which would betray him and catch on his teeth that made it sound more like a 'th'. That memory of someone who thought his least favorite quality was, of all things, cute.
"Seriou-th-ly..." He said to you, then immediately began composing an apology that would salvage his own embarrassment more so than your assumed judgement. But all he could say was a meek "Sorry."
"Why are you sorry? It was cute." His cheeks burned, but this time for reasons not affiliated with his lisp
"Don't be nervous. I just said they're gonna love you. I'm pretty sure they already love you." Jungkook thought it was edging on sociopathic for not giving a damn about what Irene's parents thought of him, let alone the idea of trying to get them to like him. That didn't matter as much when you looked so upset the day he last saw you, and all he could do was leave you that way.
"Jungkook, did you hear me?"
"What?"
Irene knew that look. She knew what had secured his coveted focus because it happened almost every time they were together. And as much as she wanted to place blame on everyone, on you, and on Jungkook, she couldn't accost anyone but herself for knowingly falling in love with someone whose heart was claimed quite clearly by someone else.
"Jungkook, I love you."
"I love you too." And he meant it. But, despite his unequivocally shallow observational skills, he knew it felt different, deeper, the way he knew it was supposed to feel like when he said those words to you.
"So, I'm sorry I have to do this." This time, she didn't cry. Almost as if she'd been preparing herself for this inevitability.
Her hand rested on his, memorizing the texture of each line, the smooth backside and the course knuckles, and stored it among the things she'd never get to feel again. Eventually, she'd have to redefine it from the things she loves into the things she once loved. And one day, she'd forget the feeling of his hand and she had to be okay with that.
"What-"
"I really hope you get ___ someday." And she meant it. He wanted to thank her, but that would sound more patronizing than grateful, so he figured the only way to avoid the unfortunate casualty of Irene's heartbreak being in vain would be to somehow convince you to love him the way he's loved you.
After she left, he sat there, phone in hand, your phone number ready to be dialed, his ears eager to hear your voice, his mind ready to admit the things his heart had been secretly certain of for a while, and said softly, "Me too."
Jungkook sat alone, his apartment emptied of the person he should have been chasing after, the person who should have been at the top of his list to call, the person who loved him enough to put his needs first, whose arms he should have wanted to feel enveloping him, yet the person who he could never seem to choose. Irene was a 'should' that would never be his 'could'.
And then, there was you.
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a/n: but wait, there's more!!!! i will definitely make this a possibly 4 chapter series w a happy ending for all you fluff-addicted fiends. also didn't want to do the crazy, jealous girlfriend trope because we love women in this household and irene deserves better than dummy jungkook!
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chansmuffin · 3 years
Text
Golden Bridge | four
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When your soulmate rejects you and you feel like your worlds ending, you meet someone who puts your pieces back together.
Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut - soulmate!au
Pairing: minhoxfem!reader, changbinxfem!reader
Word count: 3.1k
mlist, one, two, three, four, five
You looked at Minho and watched him carefully. For several moments, you didn't speak you just thought of what you could say.  
Okay, so maybe you were stupid enough to let someone in.
But there were a couple of factors.
You hadn't had a friend in a long time, and you weren't sure what exactly friends did anymore. Why did it feel so foreign to be asked to do something as simple as play instruments together? Why did it remind you so much of Changbin? You didn’t have all the answers, but you were interested in what Minho had to offer. You wondered what his soulmate would think but you tried to push that aside because there were no ulterior motives there. Minho had a soulmate and while you didn’t, and you weren't looking for somebody to replace him you knew in the world full of soul mates that there were going to be many people that wouldn’t want you. So, you knew you would spend your life alone, and you weren't worried about thinking of Minho or having unreciprocated feelings or worse, ruining things for him and his soulmate. You just weren't that person. You would be better than that. Just like you let Changbin go and you let him have his soulmate, you weren't going to meddle with any other relationships.  
That being said, you wouldn’t let soulmates ruin any other friendships you made though. Meaning, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for anyone else. As if you could fall for anyone else since you were rejected by the one you loved anyway.
Maybe Minho could fill the void that was left after Changbin. You wondered if you could even find a way to be friends with somebody that wasn't Changbin but it was fun the little bit that you knew him and the way he recommended songs to you was as if you guys were already some sort of friends - even if you didn't like the idea of friendship after all you've been through.
Even if the idea of friendship made you ill.
You were terrified of letting someone in.
Although maybe a friend was just what you needed to help you cope with the pain you were suffering from. Maybe a little jam session with a fellow musician wouldn't kill you. All the thoughts were running through your head as you looked at Minho. His eyes were nervous as they were searching yours for some answers.
When finally, you replied with a, “Yes, I think we could,” Minho’s nervous face lit up, his eyes started to dance, and his smile blossomed.
Lyn looked at the two of you with a glint in her eye, “Stop flirting and get to work, Minho.”
You were taken aback. ‘he has a soul mate’ you wanted to say but you kept your mouth shut and just let the smile slip on your face. It wasn't up to you to stick up for somebody else and it was obvious he had a soulmate, especially to Lyn who worked with him every day. Minho also didn't seem to stand up for himself, he just let it happen, his cheeks flushing bright red.
“Okau, cool, cool,” he said, “Could I like have your number?”
You paused for several moments again, thoughts invading your mind. Friends did this right? Friends asked for each other's numbers? 
This is normal, this is totally normal so why the hell was your heart beating out of your chest?
Again, though you smiled and proceeded to give Minho your number. Stopping making your drink, he programmed it in his phone. His long fingers dancing over the numbers as he typed in your number. With a smile, he resumed making your drink. You couldn’t help but watch him, eyes intently scattering to follow after every movement. Watching the way his arms flexed and the way you could see his tattoos while he did so.
Lyn caught your gaze and when you felt her staring at you, you looked away from Minho and at the floor. She just caught you totally checking Minho out.
Oh my god. Were you checking him out?
No, you couldn’t have been. You were simply admiring your friend. Yes, admiring. That was it.
Handing you the drink when he was done making it, he said “I'll text you later,”
You waved to him and Lyn, bidding your farewells before walking out of the coffeeshop and trying to calm your thumping heart. Why did it feel like that? What were you feeling? Is this what it felt like to make friends? The only emotion you’d known lately was heart break.
You went to work that day and relatively you were in a good mood. It seemed all the sadness that had racked you the night before had somehow washed away, even if it was only for a little bit. Some of the pain was gone just from talking to Minho and some of the hurt you felt vanished even just for a moment. Astoundingly, you felt happy that you are making a friend and gods, it was good to make a friend. A friend other than Gail your boss. When you went to work smiling Gail was taken aback. She cornered you in the stockroom, “What are you so smiley about?” she asked.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I think I made a friend,” you said honestly.
Her face lit up and you could tell she was happy because you weren't known for making friends easily. Which was why Changbin was all you had over all your years. You were just too awkward with people. You were the weird violin player who couldn't form her words into coherent sentences. The only way you could communicate was with music and there weren’t many people who cared to do so with you. So you were thankful that that's what you're in Minho’s relationship would be. At least then you could communicate with him, you could show him how you felt even if you couldn't talk about it and that meant more to you than words. Music always had a way of going beyond speaking, showing how you truly felt even if you couldn’t express it. That's how you and Changbin mostly communicated.
Music brought the two of you together even if he wasn’t a classical music player but often played electric guitar. Although for you, he always went acoustic and somehow, he played beautifully alongside with you as if you two worlds intertwined so perfectly that nothing could break your bond. Well, till he broke your bond. Not even music could keep you together.  
You never played with a cello player before apart from orchestra and quartets. It was never just a duet between violin and cello, so you were enticed to look through the music you had and find a duet for you two. Of course, you need something sad and MInho seemed to like sad music as well, but for some reason today the happy music wasn't looking so bad today. The happy music wasn't making you so angry to look at but even if your fingers drifted over the sheets you still couldn't bother yourself to pick them up. It was too soon though and you were too hurt to be able to play the notes to something happy.  
After picking out a couple of different music pieces, you smiled and waited for Minho to text you. Your shift seemed to drone on and on, as you waited to see the familiar name pop up on your phone. You hadn’t gotten his number so you couldn't text first although you didn't know if you would even if you could. You just waited patiently or rather impatiently and when he finally did text you, it was near the end of your shift and your heart sped with excitement when you saw his text.
[3:56p] Hey, it’s Minho!
You took a couple pictures of the music you chose and send it to him.
[4:00p] I hope this suits you  
He was quick to respond.
[4:01p] It looks perfect. I have a couple pieces as well. When are you free?
Between school, working at the book shop during the week, and working at the bar on the weekends, it was hard to find time and you hope since he worked late at night that he would be available past midnight. Late nights seemed to be the only time you could play.
[4:06p] I work a lot. are you free sometime during the night?  
He was quick to respond again. [4:07p] I work till 3:00 AM tomorrow would 4:00 AM be good for you?
You smiled goofily to yourself. [4:09p] that would be perfect, my place or yours?
[4:11p] I can't really play at night, so could we do your place? I still live with my parents
You nodded and then laughed before responding [4:14p] of course my neighbors are used to it at this point
[4:15p] 😌Send your address and I'll be there tomorrow  
You did gladly and that, was the first night you slept well.
🎻
Your jaw nearly dropped when you opened your door to Minho standing outside of it, looking entirely different in sweats, a muscle tee and hair slightly messy. His tattoos were on full display and you marveled over them for several moments before he cleared his throat.
“Hey,” you drew out.
He gave you a silly smile, “Sorry I look so disheveled. It was a long day at the shop.” His large cello was strapped in a case on his back as he shifted his weight back and forth.
“Oh,” you replied tearing your gaze away, “come in.”
You let him follow you in and quickly apologized for any mess, “I’m not really home often,” you grinned.
He just shrugged, “I don’t mind. I know your schedule is probably packed. Which speaking of, thank you for making time for me.”
You waved him off and retrieved Oliver from where he was on your couch, “No problem. Today I don’t have to work till 6pm so I would have had a ton of free time on my hands any way. Thanks for coming.” 
Making your way over to an empty space in your living room, you placed down two music stands, thankful to still have Changbin’s. You had moved two dinning chairs to sit in front of them and waited for Minho to get situated. He did so as you slid a couple of music sheets onto both stands.
Minho grabbed a few sheets from the front pouch of his cello case, uncrumpling the edges as he did, “Sorry, cello cases aren’t the best for storing music,” he said with an awkward smile. He handed the music to you and you looked it over, before deciding it was worthy enough to play and sitting it on your stands as well. “Where should we begin?” he asked as you sat down with Oliver.
You hummed, looking through the music before deciding on Jupiter Chorale, from the Planets, a song Minho had brought along with him. “I don’t have a metronome or anything.”
He shook his head, “I don’t think we’ll need one.”
And was he right. 
When you began playing together, it was as if everything aligned. He kept his eyes on you while you played, knowing his cues when to come in and when the right time to use vibrato was.
The song was nice, slow, and quite depressing but playing it with Minho, it was beautiful. You didn’t feel as sad as you normally did.
When the piece was over, Minho’s eyes were prodding you, “You’re really good,” he remarked.
You flushed, “Minho, that was such a simple song.”
He shook his head, “Those are the hardest to play, don’t you know?”
You cocked your head, “What do you mean?”
“Simple songs are the hardest because it’s so easy to mess up. If you mess up a busy song, someone is likely not to even notice. But a piece this simple, you have to be good to play it well.”
“You’re not so bad either then,” you added, smiling at him before flipping through the sheets and changing the music.
He watched you choose a piece and gasped when you did, “O Waly Waly is one of my favorites. Another simple piece that is so easy to mess up.”
You pointed at him, “Now, I’m going to mess up.”
He rolled his eyes, “I highly doubt it. You radiate such big first violin energy. I can feel it pressing against me and it hurts, by the way.”
“Why are cello players so snippy?”
Pointing his bow at you, he shook it, “Violin players are snobby, okay? We have to be snippy.”
Narrowing your eyes, you glared at him, “I am not snobby.”
“You chose O Waly Waly, you’re totally a snob.”
“That’s mean, Minho.”
He put a hand up in defense, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
Flushing, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Can we move on to O Waly Waly now?” What did he mean he liked it? Was he flirting with you? Oh god. Your heart sunk into your stomach. What if he was? He had a soulmate and he was flirting with you? Maybe you were reading into it too much. Yes, that had to be it. It was just friendly banter. Changbin used to banter with you like that.
The thought calmed you down as the two of you began the next song.
Like before, he was in perfect step with you.
He didn’t miss a single note and was right in tune with you and it made things feel so right. Minho might just pan out to be a good friend. Not even Changbin was able to stay this in tune with you - and that said a lot because Changbin and you were nearly perfect musical partners.
Now, maybe you had found a new musical partner.
“Again,” he said when you finished, “You play beautifully, Y/N,” he complimented.
Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, “You’re really good too, Minho.”
“How long have you played?”
“Since I was about eight,” you replied. “My mom forced it on me and for a long time, I actually hated it,” you laughed, feeling slightly sad when remembering the times you’d fight with your mom over playing.
He gave you a look of sympathy, “I was forced to play too but it started with piano when I was ten. Ultimately I hated it and decided to try cello. I liked how big and powerful it was. Turned out that’s where my passion was. I won a lot of contests in school. I would have never done so with piano. My fingers aren’t meant to move that way.”
You eagerly nodded, “My fingers aren’t really built to use a bow, and I still struggle with my form,” you said showing him your awkward bow hold. “But er, my ex worked on it really hard with me and was persistent. He really made a difference.”
“Was he a musician?”
You licked your lips, you weren’t really used to talking about Changbin but something about Minho, made it easier. “He was. Guitar though. Looking back, I guess we never meshed that well. We were never quite in tune.”
“I understand,” he said simply and you noticed his eyes had flooded back to their natural color, almost making you gasp because god, was he beautiful and his natural eyes made him that much more pretty. You stared at him for several moments, taking him in before he caught you off guard and said, “Weird to see my eyes normal, isn’t it?”
So he caught you staring. Way to go Y/N. “Yes.”
“I love their natural color, I think eyes look the prettiest when they’re in their natural state. You can see more of a person that way. I like the way your eyes always are, I feel like I see so much of you even though you aren’t willing to show me much.”
You grimaced, “I haven’t had the best few months. I’m a little standoffish, I’ll be honest. It’s hard to let anyone in.”
“Well,” Minho clapped his hands together, “Thank you for what you have let me in on. Could we be music buddies? I don’t have anyone else to play with and playing with you is so... refreshing.”
He was right. You felt so refreshed playing with him and listening to the way his cello soared. Watching him out of the corner of your eyes was like watching a true artist at work and it was beautiful. You agreed with him that maybe this could be something worthwhile. “Music buddies sounds good. I just am not sure I know how to have friends... I was always the awkward violin player.”
“Well now you’re the beautiful violin player.”
You shied away, “You’re too flattering, Minho.”
He noticed your look of discomfort and was quick to apologize, “I’m sorry. I was always known as the blunt cello player.”
“Shall we play some more?”
“Do you have more time?”
You looked at your phone, and nodded, it’s not like you needed sleep anyway. “Sure.”
He paused for a moment and then looked towards your kitchen, “Could I make you some coffee?”
“Please but good luck with it, I fear I made it angry,” you joked.
He laughed and it was the most beautiful melodic sound you swore you ever heard. “I’ll sweet talk it the way I do at work.”
You raised a brow, “You talk to the machines at work?”
He sat his bow down, scoffing as he laid his cello on the floor, “Don’t act like you’ve never talked to Oliver.”
Putting your hands in the air, you laughed back, “Okay, you got me there.”
And that’s how Minho made you the best cup of coffee you’d ever had from your coffee maker and stayed over playing till seven in the morning.
When he left, even with the caffeine still flowing through your veins, once your head hit the sheets, you fell asleep and when you awoke, for the first time in months, the bags under your eyes were barley visible.
Music really had a way of healing and you hadn’t realized how desperately you had needed a partner to play with until that night.
You guessed that Minho had came into your life at the right time and even if he was a stranger, now he was becoming a friend.
It scared you and excited you at the same time.
🎻 
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Text
She’d rather be beautiful than alive (Avengers x Anorexic reader)
She'd rather be beautiful than alive
Based loosely on the song Deadly Beauty by Alexa Shea
Avengers x anorexic reader
Word count: 2070
Warnings: anorexia, purging, over exercise, depression
Summary: Reader has a serious eating disorder and the team decides to hold an intervention.
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Nobody saw it coming. No one needed to. 
You were always so….well, you. Badass fighter, wouldn’t take no for an answer, life-loving Y/N! There was never any reason for anyone to worry about you. But little did they know
You had a secret. 
You had just gotten out of a serious relationship. You had loved him, but apparently he didn’t  anymore. No, you had found out he had been cheating on you. Someone who was prettier than you, skinnier than you. And that was a few weeks ago. You never stopped loving him, and you’d do anything to get him back. 
The team knew that breakup was pretty rough for you, but you hid how torn apart you were. You didn’t want them to worry about you or think that you were being stupid for feeling so broken because of him. 
It started out small. You began skipping Cap’s training sessions, claiming you were tired, but in reality you couldn’t sleep. You made it up later in the day, spending hours on the cardio machines or punching away all of your feelings. You stopped eating. You couldn’t...no, you wouldn’t. After seeing him with that skinny girl? No way. But when the team all got together for meals, you would participate so no one would get suspicious. Afterwards, you would go to your room and put on some music before going into your bathroom to get rid of the little you had eaten.
You were convinced that if you were perfect you could get him back. But what you didn’t realize was that you were already beautiful. And because you didn’t know this, you were destroying yourself in the pursuit of perfection. And you told yourself “I’d rather be beautiful than alive.”
This went on for a few months. Your clothes became baggier, you became more withdrawn and anxious, and you were obviously getting thinner. At first the team had pegged it on the breakup, thinking it would be a phase and that you would get over it. Plus, you were eating around them, so they weren’t too concerned. But the longer this went on and the more weight you lost, the more concerned the team became. 
They tried to approach you about it, but you would just wave them off or change the subject. You didn’t want anyone to stop you from becoming perfect. You were losing significant amounts of weight and along with it, your strength. You were spending more and more time in your room, too afraid of the conversations the team was trying to have with you.
The team decided to take the time to have a meeting to discuss what was going on. They were all worried about you and wanted to figure out the best way to move forward.
They all gathered in the living area in silence for a few minutes, no one really knowing how to start. Most of them were sitting, but Steve stood, not feeling able to sit. They were all really worried about you and your health. They knew it had been a hard time for you recently, but things were getting out of hand.
“So what do we know right now?” Tony started.
Steve sighed and leaned against his hands on the back of his chair. “She stopped coming to training sessions a few months ago. But later on in the day I’ll find her in the gym. I don’t really think anything of it but sometimes I’ll walk by hours later and she’s still on the same machine. She’s lost a lot of strength and she’s lost a lot of weight. I mean, I know she eats with us but I don’t understand how she’s gotten so thin.”
Bucky entered the conversation, adding “I’m not so sure she’s sleeping anymore either. She always seems so exhausted.”
“But is that exhaustion from lack of sleep or lack of food?” Nat asked. Everyone turned to look at her with confusion. “Oh come on, I mean, yeah, she eats with us, but like...once every few days? Has anyone seen her outside of that?””
The team dropped their heads, trying to think of the last time they had seen you eat outside of the team meals only to realize they hadn’t seen you period outside of team meals. 
The team fell silent again after a few solemn shakes of their head. After a few minutes, Bruce said, “I think I know what’s going on.”
“She barely eats anymore, she goes to the gym for hours at a time, she’s withdrawing, she’s lost significant amounts of weight, hiding in her room, not sleeping…” He looks up to see everyone staring at him. “Guys, I think she’s anorexic.”
At first people started to protest, but then realised that it made a lot of sense. They fell silent again, until Steve asked “When did this even start? Why would she hurt herself like this?”
After thinking for a moment, Bucky said “Her boyfriend.” He looked up to meet the eyes of the rest of the team. “After they broke up, she started distancing herself from us. Stopped eating, upped the workouts… God how did we not see this sooner?”
Knowing he was right, they all began to have different reactions.
Tony was angry. He didn’t understand why you would do this over some asshole. Bruce was concerned, a little more so than everyone else due to his medical background. Sam, Steve and Bucky were ready to go kill your ex out of pure rage. And Wanda and Natasha were already trying to think of ways to help you, you were like a sister to them. But underneath all of this, everyone had a similar feeling - they all blamed themselves.
For not noticing sooner. Hell, for not doing something sooner. They let you brush them off, they would watch you overwork yourself, they watched you dwindle down to nothing - they let you slowly kiil yourself. 
“So what do we do now?” Steve broke the silence. 
Everyone looked at Bruce, figuring he would know since he knew the most about Anorexia. He paused for a minute before stating “Well, we should probably set up some sort of intervention. She needs to know we care. But…” he shakes his head before continuing “She’s not going to be very open to it. She’s probably going to get really defensive about it and deny it to some extent. But there’s no telling how it’s going to go.”
“So when should we do it?” Steve asks
“When should we do what?”
Everyone whipped around at the sound of your voice to see you standing at the entrance of the living space. No one had heard you walking in. 
“Hey, Y/N.” Bruce spoke. Can you come sit down?”
You wanted to say no, as you had been on your way to the gym. But you had picked up on the serious tone in the room, and nodded your head, sitting in the chair that Steve was standing behind. He walked around to the other side of the room and looked at you. “Are you okay Y/N?”
No, you did NOT want to have this conversation. You weren’t done yet and you knew they would just stop you. You needed to be perfect and you weren’t there yet. “Yeah, I’m fine. That's it?”
“Y/N, no you’re not. Don’t lie to us.”
“Tony!”
“What he means,” Bruce interrupted, more gently, “is that we’re worried about you.”
You looked at him and attempted (and failed) a smile. “Why would you be worried about me?”
Bruce sighed before continuing. “Y/N, you’re not eating. You’re extremely thin. You work out way too much every day. You’re withdrawing, you’re tired… what’s going on?”
“:No I’m not!” you exclaim, standing up. You ignore the black invading your vision. “Look, I appreciate the concern and all, really. But I assure you, I am fine. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to go.” You begin to make your way to the door you came in, but Bruce nodded at Steve who then stood in front of the doorway.
“Steve, please get out of my way.” you said while averting your gaze. If you made eye contact surely he would know something was up.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that Y/N.” he said gently. 
“Steve, please -”
“Y/N, I’m sorry but you’re not going anywhere until you talk about this.”
At that moment you felt extremely trapped. You were panicking. If you didn’t get out of sight soon you would break down in front of everyone. You weren’t ready for that. So you showed an emotion that was much more comfortable: Anger.
“Steve, seriously, just move the fuck out of my way.” You attempted to push him, but to no avail. You kept trying, but because he was Steve and you being so weak, nothing happened. You kept pushing until Steve grabbed your wrists and your anger began to melt into anguish. “I’m not perfect yet.”
This took him by surprise, and he looked to everyone else in the room. No one else had heard what you had said. He led you back to the chair, tears beginning to brim your eyes as you kept your head down. Steve took a deep breath before asking “What do you mean you’re not perfect Y/N?”
Your tears began spilling over, and you shook your head. “It’s not going to make any sense to you guys. Just forget it…”
“Y/N, whatever it is, we just want to help. What’s this about?” Bruce said.
You put your head in your hands, trying to hide the shame and panic in your features. You started, “I just...I thought… if I….then maybe…” you sighed, and pulled at your hair for a second, tying to ground yourself. After a few seconds you closed your eyes and tried again. “When I broke up with (name of ex or someone you want attention from), it was because he was cheating on me. He was seeing someone who was just...better than me. God this sounds so stupid...sorry… I just thought that if I was better then maybe…  maybe he’d come back. At least that’s how it started. Now… I mean I want to stop sometimes, it’s just… I just feel like I’m too far gone. I’m sorry…” 
By this point you were shaking and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the rest of the team. You felt panic setting in now that everything was out and you just wanted to get out of the room, away from watching eyes. You tried to get up and leave again, but this time it was Bucky who stopped you. He had been sitting right next to you and grabbed your wrist, standing up with you. You tried to wrestle your arm free, but he just encased you in a hug. You fought for a few seconds but then gave way, crying into his shoulder. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Bucky asked you
You stepped back and sat back down. “I didn’t know what to say. I thought...I just don’t know how to stop.”
“Just let us help you. Please, Y/N, we want to help you.” Bruce offered.
“I can’t stop…”
“Yes you can, Y/N. you mean so much to everyone on this team. You are amazing, forget whatever he made you feel.” Steve began. “I’m sorry we didn’t say something sooner.” you saw the rest of the team nod their heads. In response you shook yours. “I never thought that it would go this far.”
“Hey,” you looked at Bucky sitting next to you. “It’s not your fault. You’re trying your best with what you were given. It’s okay. And it’s going to be okay even if it doesn’t feel that way right now.”
You looked down. “Thank you guys. I’m sorry for all of this.”
Sam finally spoke up. “No sweat, kid. Now, remind us of this dude’s name.”
You looked at him puzzled. “Why?” 
“Because I think it’s time the Avengers pay Mr. Son of a Bitch a visit.”
You laughed and looked up at the rest of them. “I really do love you guys.”
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interstellarrambles · 4 years
Note
I’ve never requested anything from anyone but I’m in desperate need for a billy x goth!reader. Idk just how he noticed her in school cuz she is the only goth person and always asks her out and they flirt but she always rejects him until one day she agrees. Idk if that makes sense but thank u :)
a/n: so I dont know how to feel about this, I might edit and come and change it because I'm not sure of the ending, but if you like it, let me know! I tried to make it sweet at the end but this is definitely out of character for Billy, but I'm soft for him so idc. @savvy7392 I really really really hope you like this im sorry it took ages
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harsh, confident and undeniably cool: everyone at Hawkins High knew not to fuck with you - you'd forged your own path in previous years and showed no signs of slowing down any time soon. there was just something about you that made people want to simply observe from the sidelines. known for dark makeup, brash music and taking no one's bullshit, you were somewhat of a divisive figure: people either really hated you and tried to make your life misery (to not much avail) or desperately wanted to befriend you.
somehow, along the way you'd made friends with the likes of Robin and by association, Steve, but you were happy with your small group of friends and didn't really care all that much for your hometown and what (or who) it had to offer.
therefore, when a fresh faced californian boy toy entered Hawkins High, you couldn't deny there was a certain allure to his cool demeanour and newness. unluckily for you, Billy found his place with the current popular kids sucking up to him and soon the rumours about you began to surface again. whenever you caught his eyes within the first few days of his arrival, his gaze would be quickly diverted by Tina or Carol as they glared at you or threw insults. that's why you decided it really wasn't worth getting involved with Billy Hargrove, even if he did have an amazing taste in music.
but God did you misunderstand the lengths to which this boy would go for your attention.
the first few days, Billy would opt for a smile sent your way, enough to make you weak at the knees but not quite enough to make you wander over to him. group projects would be announced in class and when he tried to subtly join you, you'd amble to the opposite end of the room to be with a bunch of kids you didn't even know, just to avoid him. and Billy knew you did it on purpose since after sitting down with your respective groups, you caught his eye and simply winked at him.
almost dropping his pencil in surprise, he was genuinely unable to believe you had successfully ignored him in such a blatant way. smirking back at his gaping mouth and sparklingly amused eyes, you simply laughed it off, sparking a conversation up with the boy next to you as easily as you had rejected Billy. shaking his head in disbelief, he made a promise to himself he'd make you friends with him if it was the last thing he did.
another day, you arrived at school with a too-short black skirt on and Billy felt his heartrate quicken at simply catching one glimpse of you, his blood rushing just a little faster than usual. he would never have the guts to tell you, but he absolutely adored the way you dressed and how good it made you look.
unexpectedly, you treated him to an actual wave this morning, something that fuelled his pursuits. all day, he pestered you in class, forcing those who would usually take the seat next to you to move elsewhere so he could be closer to you. deep blue and bright with attraction, his eyes would drop down to your thighs and the way they looked so amazing in the skirt you were wearing. desperately, he wanted to say something about it to you, but he knew he'd trip over his words; already he had blushed intensely when you caught him staring, though at least he could tell you were enjoying his gaze.
rather annoyingly, you did like the attention, smiling to yourself when he would ignore other people so he could walk you to your next class even if he was rambling to himself the whole time. curls falling in his face and a cheesy grin playing on his cheeks were enough to make butterflies swarm your insides and you had a terrible time trying to hide it.
in reality, you really didn't want to be cruel since it appeared he didn't really have anyone that cared about him much past the muscles and cute eyes, but you also were not about to walk straight into a heartbreak with both eyes open. billy was definitely a bad influence, even to you, the resident goth of Hawkins High, and whether he meant it or not, you knew you would eventually get hurt.
the next time, he plagued your locker with letters and notes and waited next to it, a permanent grin locked onto his features.
a red shirt clung to his biceps, tan skin visible due to the multiple buttons left undone and a silver chain dangling and catching in the light. strong and slightly overpowering yet undeniably attractive, his unique smell of cologne and liquor and maybe a little something else invaded your private space, making you way too nervous to deal with him this late in the day.
weeks of notes and smiles and blue eyes meeting yours way too often had weakened your resolve and if it didn't disgust you so much you would be able to admit Billy was slowly turning your heart to mush. you couldn't listen to mötley crüe without thinking of him and every time you picked out an outfit, you wondered if he'd think you were beautiful or if he'd like the band on your shirt. his compliments and soft gestures like driving you home and giving you his jacket when it was raining (even if it didn't fit your look) had grown on you massively. now you would even go as far to say you enjoyed his company.
"heya baby girl," he drawled, the curl of his plump lips breathtaking in the worst ways, "fancy coming along with me for the evening?"
even though he exuded pure confidence, you didn't miss the way he resembled a kicked puppy when you smiled and responded, "I've got assignments pretty boy, no thanks," shovelling the letters into your bag and turning on your heel to walk home.
unfortunately, this wasn't quite good enough for Billy, hence why he followed quickly, his voice echoing after you, "what's with the ignoring me constantly y/n? you stand at parties and complain about the music and watch me all night and yet you walk away when I come up to you. I've seen you staring at me in class sometimes or at lunch when I'm not bothering you and whenever I catch your eye, you leave. you watch me all the time and yet every time I think you'll come over, you ignore me. if you don't like me, that's okay but I need to know now."
cheeks burning with embarrassment, your eyes dropped to the ground as he pulled you away into privacy. you didn't know what to say.
"billy..." you managed, still unable to meet his chaotic gaze as he stood only centimetres away, breathing hard while he awaited your response.
"what is it? just give me a reason." he almost pleaded, relaxing slightly when you gave him a smile and finally met his eyes.
"do you realise how badly your friends hate me? because I dress weird and I listen to music they don't and I've always been different and you hate that they don't like me. I can't spend five minutes with you in public before you get nervous, I'm sick of you hiding me away! you're fine with me unless there's someone around and I don't understand it and it is tearing me apart," your outburst pulled at him, making him feel terrible for calling you out prematurely.
"I like you Billy but I can't deal with that. I like my little life of listening to bad music with my friends and dreaming of getting away one day and hanging at the mall with Steve and Robin. I love sitting in your car and sharing those moments you don't let anyone else see. I do. but I wont let you pretend I don't exist."
shifting on your feet slightly, you realised how ridiculous the whole thing was and all you wanted was for billy to scoop you up in his arms and make the world better again. you wanted him to let you do his eyeliner and you wanted to feel his hands on your hips, his touch driving you wild. you wanted him to kiss you right now in the hallway and tell everyone else to screw off.
but life isn't a dream.
so you settled for Billy whispering his sorrys and offering you his hand, which was enough to nearly make you cry since he would never usually be so open in public. content, you followed him as he led you to his car, all the while promising he'd change things for you, only stopping to talk properly when you reached it.
"promise me something Billy?" after confirmation from him, you continued, leaning against the hood of his car, him stood only centimetres away "you'll never be ashamed of me?"
"never doll, there's nothing to be ashamed of," he leaned in, holding either side of your face ever so gently, and when the kiss finally broke, he whispered, "now how about a date?"
"okay pretty boy, you name it."
that was a good enough start.
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yodawgiherd · 3 years
Text
Indecent Proposal
>>>Read on AO3<<<
Rating: T/M
Random thoughts go booom hahaha Another worthless drabble of mine....
Parties, now that was never Mikasa’s thing. High school ones were pain and college ones were not that much better. She would prefer to read a good book or something, but social standards demanded that she shows up to at least some. And Mikasa managed to survive them all, the crowning one surely being the party where she met Armin and Eren for the first time.
Unfortunately, her new boyfriend (damn that word felt weird) couldn’t make it to this one, because as a medical student he was quite literally swamped with schoolwork. But Armin did go, so Mikasa tagged along with Sasha, hoping to find at least some fun. And honestly, it was okay. The music was nice, the food (as Sasha claimed) was fine, and the drinks were plenty. Mikasa enjoyed herself – they played beer pong where she and Armin totally bodied the other pair, buzzed from the game she even danced to the music, swaying in rhythm. To top it off, she took part in a game of truth and dare and ended up kissing Sasha, to the great enjoyment of every male in attendance.
Even now, sitting on a couch and resting her legs because strutting around in her heavy boots was taxing,  a half-empty drink in her hand, Mikasa was enjoying this. Sasha was sprawled on the floor in a food-induced coma, Armin drank too much and was out cold in the bathroom. The party was ending, slowly but surely, people were leaving either alone or in pairs, and Mikasa was just thinking about waking her friends up when an unfamiliar figure sat down next to her.
“Hey there,” the guy said, “Liking the party?”
“Yeah, It’s fine, a bit dying though.”
He smirked, his eyes roving all over her body. Mikasa was not dressed provocatively in any way, and compared to the other party-goers she was definitely on the modest scale – her outfit was the usual long black top and skirt combo, black tights, and her trademark leather boots. Choker, necklaces, earrings, piercings, and rings on her fingers, Mikasa was in her comfort clothing, but apparently it was still attractive enough to be hit on. She might have been drunk, but his next words made that quite clear.
“It pains me to see such a beautiful girl on her own... Want some company?”
Mikasa almost told him to fuck off, her usual defense system, but then a thought popped up in her head. She had a brand new reason not to let herself be fucked randomly at a party.
“I have a boyfriend.”, she said sweetly, her black lips curled into a smile.
She, in her naivety, thought that it would be enough. Bzzz, wrong.
“Well, he’s not here now, is he?”, the guy shuffled closer, “But I am…”
Now that they were up close and personal, he studied her face more intently, obviously enjoying what he saw.
“Damn but you are so beautiful,”, he reached out, his hand coming dangerously close to Mikasa’s cheek, “Can I just…”
Too close. Too fucking close. Quick as a viper, Mikasa caught his hand before it could reach her skin, twisting it away. The entranced look quickly changed into one of surprise and pain when she kept pulling until he was forced from the couch and down to his knees.
“Don’t touch me.”, she whispered in that quiet voice that Sasha claimed sent shivers down her spine.
“Hey! Easy there!”, surprised that she subdued him so quickly, he tried to free his hand but to no avail, “I didn’t mean anything by it!”
Remembering that the last time she broke a boy’s hand for touching her caused all kinds of trouble, and also realizing that it was way out of line, Mikasa let go. He shook his hand, grimaced at the pain, and stood up, looking at her with a new measure of respect, a bit of fear sprinkled in.
“I’m sorry, okay? It’s not like I wanted to hurt you…”
He was right, of course, this was a college party, people came here to touch each other. But just the thought made Mikasa sick to her stomach, even more vile now when she was dating someone. She was… claimed? Was that a word?
In her defense, she told him so, and yet he still tried going for her, so Mikasa offered no apologies on her part. Instead, she frowned at the guy, showing that this exchange was over. Luckily for him, he understood.
“Fine, have it your way.”, he turned and left, but Mikasa caught what left his lips when he shook his wrist, “Freakishly strong…”
Suddenly not enjoying the party that much anymore, Mikasa woke Sasha up and collected the shitfaced Armin from the bathroom. As she was helping him down the stairs, she saw the guy who approached her currently engaged with another girl. Mikasa’s refusal did nothing to shake him because he was going to town. Their lips were glued together while one of her legs was wrapped around his waist, his hand sliding up the exposed thigh and under her dress. Ignoring the scene, she pushed past with Armin on her shoulder and Sasha behind, so she didn’t see the smug look he threw at her back.
After parking Sasha in their dorm room, she helped Armin walk through the silent campus to his. Letting herself in with the blond’s keys she took off his shoes and deposited him to the bed, looking over her friend. He looked fine, even passed out, so Mikasa marked her escort mission as complete. But just as she was about to leave and head back to her and Sasha’s place, her eyes wandered to the closed door of Eren’s room. It was late, so one could assume that he was sleeping, most likely exhausted from school.
Still… she wanted to see him.
It was most definitely caused by the party – the alcohol made her bold and all the groping and kissing she saw made Mikasa crave some for herself. She and Eren were still at the beginning of their relationship, a bit over two weeks since their short breakup, and after that outburst he respected her boundaries perfectly, even more than before. And yet her feet carried Mikasa to his door, opening it and slipping inside, silent as a ghost.
It was dark, but from the moonlight she could recognize Eren’s body on the bed, motionless peaceful mass. That was bound the change because the dorm bed was not big and when Mikasa slipped under the covers she had to rest half of her body on his chest, otherwise she would fall. Tucked beneath his chin, arms wrapped around the expanding and collapsing chest, she felt him slowly stir into wakefulness. Eren’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, his dreams invaded by Mikasa’s pleasant scent. Soon after his eyes fluttered open and now he was gazing down at her body, pressed so closely against his. Okay, he thought to himself, that’s one thing to wake up to.
“Mikasa?”, he tried carefully, unsure what to make of this.
Honestly, he was scared shitless that Mikasa might regret this in the morning and leave him again, that short period of not having her in his life was not enjoyable at all. He had to defuse the situation carefully.
“Yeeees?”, she drawled from beneath him, her voice uncharacteristically sultry.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
Pulling back to get a good look at her face, Eren took in the ruddy cheeks and shiny eyes, his brain finally remembering that she was at a party.
“You’re drunk.”
“I think so.”, she confessed, “Why are you asking?”
“Just making sure. Now let me repeat, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your dorm?”
“I don’t want to, I want to be here with you.”, her hands slid over his chest, coming up to cup Eren’s head, “What do you want us to do?”
God damn it this was hard. He wanted her, with every part of his being, he wanted her so much. Mikasa was quite literally the most beautiful woman he ever saw and having her here in the bed with him, so freely offering herself, was a trial by fire.
But.
She was not thinking straight. She was drunk. They would both regret this in the morning. No, he would not betray her trust like this. He was not a monster.
“Look, you are intoxicated, so let’s not do something we would be sorry about.”, he stroked her cheek gently, “Okay?”
Mikasa took a shuddering breath, blinked a few times, and then it finally seemed to click for her. Her sexy expression got replaced by an embarrassed one, cheeks growing even redder.
“Sorry I…”, she began, but Eren didn’t mean to torment her.
“You can sleep here if you want.”, he offered.
Seeing her nod, he smiled.
“Let me help you out of the clothes,”, realizing what he said, his ears grew red to match hers, “J-Just so you are comfortable, of course.”
With a switch that turned on the light, Eren made Mikasa sit on the bed as he unzipped her skirt, helping her slide that fabric down her hips. After that his hands went to her tights, and despite their conversation Mikasa found herself enjoying his gentle touches. Closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip, she imagined what it would be if Eren’s hands weren’t careful but rough, if he yanked that offending fabric away in a heat of passion instead of this. Her mind filled with the images from the party, she would like to know how Eren’s hands would feel on her skin if he touched her there and…
“You okay?”, came his voice, making her eyes open, “You looked spaced out a second.”
“I’m fine, good.”, she stood up abruptly, now dressed only in her shirt and panties, “Need to use the bathroom first.”
Once there Mikasa made sure to remove her make-up as much as she could, as Eren would probably not appreciate having his bedding stained by dark colors. Taking out her earrings and necklaces, she cluttered them to a bowl alongside the rings. Finally, she unclasped her bra and choker and looked at herself in the mirror, the pale reflection staring back.  The pink dusting was still present on her cheeks, and Mikasa blushed even harder when she realized that she almost made a huge mistake. Her intimacy was still an unbreached territory and having a shot at it while being drunk was not something she wanted. So after coming back and crawling into the bed with Eren, she made sure to kiss him softly, murmuring a quick thank you.
He just chuckled, stroking her hip gently. And here, tucked into his body, Mikasa fell asleep happily.
Parties, now that was never Mikasa’s thing. High school ones sucked, college ones weren’t much better but hey, she met her fiancé at one of them. Now, a full-fledged adult, Mikasa was still required to attend some, because her job simply came with that.
It was customary to have a celebration when they wrapped a photoshoot, and because she was the leading girl for this collection it would be an insult not to show up. Unfortunately, Eren was busy with hospital work, so after toying with the idea of inviting Levi as her plus one Mikasa took Sasha. The girl was ecstatic, very quickly wheeling her way to the food table and getting busy there.
Watching her with a faint smile, Mikasa had to admit that she was growing fond of parties lately. The ones she had with her friends at the Third Wheel were amazing, and she thoroughly enjoyed them all. But this, being thrown into an unknown environment, was something else altogether. Sure, she knew some people here. She knew Kiyomi, Dot, and the girls she worked with, but that was still a small number compared to everyone. Hizuru was a big company, and when it threw a party it was an equally grand one.
So here she was, stuffed into a black strapless dress and those pretty high heels that Eren got for her. To annoy her boss Mikasa took her time and painted her face with the usual black makeup, even picked a choker to adorn her neck. It didn’t sit well with the overall vibe, but she liked it, too bad.
Her moment of observing wild Sasha Braus in its natural habitat was interrupted when a voice spoke up behind her.
“That’s an impressive tattoo you have.”
Oh, did she get noticed by a fellow tattoo enthusiast? Excited for a second she turned but her fantasy was quickly debunked when the man’s eyes immediately dipped into her cleavage. Nevermind.
“Why thank you.”, she replied with the sweetest smile she could muster, “It's a matching one with my fiancé.”
Mikasa put a special emphasis on that word, hoping that he will take the hint. And, once again, was left disappointed.
“Well, he’s not here now, is he?”
And he stepped closer, entering Mikasa’s safe space. She could tell him off, use her usual ice voice, but no, she was feeling extra bitchy tonight. Maybe it was because of the party, maybe because this asshole used the exact same words as that one from years back, but Mikasa was ready to play with him. She was tipsy, but alcohol didn’t make her more open to advances, it did the exact opposite. When drunk, Mikasa got even more territorial than usual.
“All right, fine, I’m game.”, she leaned forward with feigned interest, making his eyes slide down to her chest, “What do you have for me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you want me to cheat on my fiancé right? So why should I? What do you offer?”
“Oh baby, you have no idea.”, luckily for him he didn’t touch her, but his voice dropped low into a heated whisper, “I can make you feel so good that you will be screaming my name. And that boyfriend of yours? He will never know….”
“How?”
“How what?”
“How will you make me scream your name?”, she met his confused gaze with her unimpressed one, “Elaborate, please.”
“Uh… I mean…. I can do you really, really good and…”
“So that’s it? Simple sex?”
“I’d have no objection if you sucked me off first,”, his cocky smile was annoying and she could almost physically feel her woman parts locking, “If you are into that.”
If she was into that? Ooh, he had no idea what Mikasa is into. And it was high time to let him know.
“That’s a tempting offer, but I have a better one.”, she was the one whispering now, “What If I fucked you instead?”
He blinked a few times, eyes widening.
“What are you talking about?”
“I have a few toys that I like using, so why don’t we go and give them a spin.”, Mikasa was devouring him with her gaze now, “And that’s not all I offer. If you take me well enough, like the little bitch you are, I will let you worship me with your mouth. How is that?”
The man stumbled backward, shaking his head violently.
“N-No… I Don’t… I…”
Mikasa’s gaze was cool as she regarded him.
“What? Can’t talk? Then bark, dog.”
That was enough to give him the voice back.
“God, you’re crazy. I’m out of here.”
And he was indeed gone, passing Sasha who was just wheeling herself back with a tray full of food.
“Who was that?”, she asked, mouth full of pastry.
“No one.”, Mikasa reached over, grabbing a treat herself, “No one important.”
Fine, so even these parties like these could be fun.
Eren was still awake when Mikasa came home, waiting for her. It wouldn’t be fair to say that he had trouble sleeping alone, but he strongly preferred having her in the bed with him. What he didn’t know was that sleeping was not very high on Mikasa’s agenda, and when he stood up to say hi he was very quickly planted back on the couch with his goth girlfriend viciously attacking his mouth.
“How was the party?”, he managed to ask between the kisses, a feat worthy of respect.
“Fine.”, she responded, fingers tugging at his shirt.
Soon it was gone and she was free to splay her fingers on the warm naked skin.
“Are we doing something that we will both regret in the morning?”
“You bet.”, she giggled, and then her mouth was busy with kissing again.
And it went on and on until Eren was naked but Mikasa was still fully clothed, yet when he tried tugging the zipper of her dress down she denied him. She flipped them over, pushing Eren until he was standing in front of the couch with a raised eyebrow. All Mikasa offered was a single word.
“Kneel.”
He did so immediately, frowning a bit when he realized how quickly his body obeyed. Pleased by that, Mikasa put her legs on his shoulders, continuing in her instructions.
“Take off my panties, but nothing else. And use your mouth to do it.”
Eren did so, completely under her spell. Reaching over, Mikasa tangled her fingers in his hair.
“Do you want to worship me?”
His answer was immediate and automatic at this point.
“Yes please.”
A smirk on her black lips.
“Good boy.”
Lightly she pushed and he went more than willingly, head disappearing beneath the hem of her dress. And when his mouth truly went to work and Mikasa’s lips dropped open in a moan, her mind had a last coherent thought.
There was no way she would ever trade this guy for someone else.
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tessadoesstuff · 3 years
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Sunset Queens - Chapter 3
For Naboo Review Day 3 - Diversity (sort of. The wrong parts of this fic got really long. I promise it comes into play at the end!)
Chapter 1 and Chapter 2
on Ao3
“We’ll figure something out,” Sabé says from where Padmé’s handmaiden stands beside her. Padmé wishes that she could share Sabé’s confidence. The weight of her position as Queen of Naboo has never felt heavier than it does right now, with the trade federation bearing down on all sides.
“Senator Palpatine will sort this out.” There’s Yané on her other side, and Padmé wishes she shared the other girl’s faith. Senator Palpatine has been trying to get the Senate to hear Naboo for weeks now to no avail. Padmé wishes she could bury her face in her hands, but since today she’s actually in the queen’s regalia, and more importantly, the queen’s makeup, that’s hardly an option. Rabé might actually snap and murder her if she ruined all of her hard work on making Padmé’s face appear perfect.
“We’re going to have to put our faith in negotiations with the Trade Federation,” Padmé responds. She doesn’t have to explain how her thought process reached that point. It’s just her and her handmaidens in the room, and they all know how her mind works.
“Will they even negotiate?” Rabé asks from her seat across the room. Padmé bites the inside of her cheek. They have to. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if the Trade Federation follows through on their threatened embargo and then refuses to negotiate.
“Your Highness.” The door swings open, and a member of Captain Panaka’s guard steps through and snaps to attention. It isn’t anyone Padmé recognizes; she’ll have to send one of her handmaidens to find out who is on guard duty right now.
“Carry on,” Sabé speaks for Padmé. The character of Amidala uses as few words as possible since she has so many different voices, so her handmaidens take turns speaking for her.
“A guest to see you, Queen Amidala. She says she comes to advise you.” Amidala keeps her confusion off of her face – she has not called for any of her advisors, and her handmaidens wouldn’t do it without telling her. (Barring one incident, but that was more of an intervention when Padmé hadn’t slept in seventy-two hours. Padmé slept last night, that isn’t the case here.) Only the former monarchs traditionally show up to offer advice without being summoned, but Reillata is off-planet right now, touring with the show she is in.
“Skip the commentary and just announce me!” A feminine voice calls from outside the door. It’s familiar in a way that Padmé can’t quite place or describe. A quick glance at her handmaidens shows that most of them are having a similar feeling.
And then the doors are opened, and she steps through, and Padmé instantly knows who she is. Queen Sanandrassa is dressed in a long, beautiful dress of golden lace which forms elaborate geometric designs as it falls around her form.
“Sanandrassa. Welcome.” Amidala herself speaks this time, trying to cover her surprise. It hadn’t even occurred to her that her guest could be Queen Sanandrassa because this is the former queen’s first visit to the palace during Amidala’s reign. She supposes it makes sense, though. Sanandrassa has more experience with the Trade Federation than anyone currently serving in the palace.
“Queen Amidala.” Sanandrassa curtsies before walking into the room to stand in the center of the circular space. She looks Amidala in the eyes, and says simply, “I understand you are having some trouble with the Trade Federation.”
If Padmé had been dressing as a handmaiden, she would have allowed her lips to twitch at that understatement. As it is, she simply inclines her head a little.
“They are threatening a full trade embargo on the whole planet unless Naboo pays all of the fees they have pulled from nowhere to add to the debt we have long paid off,” Sabé speaks from beside Padmé.
“The debt that they were owed for their financial aid following their role in providing financial aid to your programs to repair Naboo from the damages done by King Veruna’s reign was paid off by Reillata, as was agreed on in the contract. They are, predictably, attempting to scam and threaten their way to a cheap fortune.” Eirtaé adds from where she sits, next to Rabé and across the room from Padmé’s throne. Padmé suppresses a wince. Eirtaé is a vocal member of the portion of the population that believed that Sanandrassa’s decision to go to the Trade Federation was the cause of this mess. Padmé continues to reserve judgment.
“That is not why they’re doing this,” Sanandrassa says, and now she has everyone’s full attention, Padmé’s sure. She remembers suddenly that for all Padmé disagrees with some of her diplomatic decisions, the older woman is a gifted orator. “I reached out to one of my old contacts in the federation. The blockade exists to punish us because they disagree with Naboo’s recent legislative choices.”
Amidala is sure that she’s making a face right now, although she isn’t sure what it looks like. She hopes it doesn’t appear to undignified, as unlikely as that is.
“None of Naboo’s recent legislation should affect them at all,” Saché speaks this time. Sanandrassa snorts.
“If you truly believe that, you are far too naive.  Everything affects the federation because they have their hands in everything.”
“Which piece of legislation do you believe they are objecting to?” Sabé cuts in before Eirtaé can say what they all see is on the tip of her tongue. Padmé doesn’t know what it is, but she suspects it will not be particularly diplomatic in this situation.
“This is surely a result of Naboo’s new diplomatic, immigration, and refugee policies.”
“Explain.” Sabé says exactly what Padmé would have said at that moment.
“As a result of this new approach, new trading partners are being developed, and now we are trading less with the Trade Federation. They are punishing us for that.”
“They’re throwing a fit,” Yané murmurs so that only Padmé and Sabé can hear her. There are similar murmurs from the other handmaidens in the room.
“What then is your advice?” Padmé speaks aloud and notices that Sanandrassa straightens up.
“Pull away from those deals. They’re new, we can say they simply aren’t working out. Naboo is currently suffering for everyone else’s sakes.” Padmé knows that Sanandrassa is famously isolationist. She just hadn’t realized until now just how isolationist the former monarch really is.
“I suppose you also think we should close our borders.” Eirtaé bites back. Padmé remembers a skit that used to be done during Reillata’s reign where they would have the queen give a speech during the show and then have a handmaiden stand behind her to act as her ‘anger translator’ and say what the queen is really thinking. Padmé thinks Eirtaé would be her anger translator.
“In fact, I do believe so. The people of Naboo stand alone against the trade federation. We cannot keep taking on the burdens of those who will not come to our aid, it isn’t sustainable. Once we end those ties, the federation will leave.”
“Just bow down to the will of the Federation, while we’re at it.” Eirtaé fires back. Amidala raises her hand, and everything her handmaidens were about to say drops off. Sanandrassa stills.
“I will not abandon our trading partners, not when the deals are hard-won and fair. Nor will I close the borders. That is not who the Naboo are.”
“You will make a mistake.”
“Look around you. The people in this room come from all parts of Naboo and are descended from those who came to Naboo from worlds across the system and across the galaxy. We are all here because we are striving to preserve the Naboo we love. The vibrant art and music and culture, which is that way because of the vibrant peoples who create it. I will not compromise what I swore to defend in order to bow to an invading force. I will stand by the promises I made to Naboo.” Amidala spoke, and it’s the most Padmé has said as Amidala in a long time. Sanandrassa’s face falls.
“I refused to compromise on my ideals as well, Queen Amidala. I refused to give up on the promises I made to Naboo as well, and look where that got me.”
“You made different promises,” Saché speaks again.
“You will be like me, then, remembered for what your choices cost Naboo and the decisions your successors undid. That is all the legacy there is for queens who stand by their ideals through their predecessor’s messes.” Sanandrassa bites out, and Padmé does understand her anger. As news of the federation’s threats spread, much of the people’s anger has been directed, largely unfairly, towards the former queen who once dealt with them. Such anger led Naboo to forgot how much Sanandrassa had fixed and repaired after she had been handed the destruction of her corrupt predecessor. Still, Padmé does not find that she agrees.
“I do not care how Naboo remembers me, so long as they are still able to do so in the ways I have long loved about Naboo – in Naboo’s art, in Naboo’s architecture, in Naboo’s music.”
Notes:
I have not read any of the new Padmé novels so if the characters seem out of character that's why :/
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