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#and the fact that i remember almost everything from the nightmare. i want to cry just thinking about it for these tags
transgaysex · 8 months
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cannot sleep bc i am filled with a deep deep sadness
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anniebeemine · 14 days
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subtle- s.r. x reader
For the last two weeks, you’d been noticing something strange about Spencer. He wasn’t acting like himself, and for the smartest guy in the FBI, he wasn’t exactly subtle about it either. It started with the little things—doors closing abruptly as you approached, drawers being slammed shut, and the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps whenever you entered a room. It was almost like he was trying to hide something, but not doing a very good job of it. His usual effortless chatter—the rambling facts about anything and everything—had been replaced with awkward silences and quick, nervous smiles.
At first, you chalked it up to the fact that you had recently moved in full-time. It was a big adjustment, after all, and Spencer had been living alone for so long that it made sense he’d need time to get used to having you around all the time. But as the days passed, your initial reasoning started to feel less convincing. There was something more going on, something he wasn’t telling you.
Your mind, of course, spiraled. The idea of him cheating crept in for about two agonizing hours, making your heart race and your stomach churn. But then you remembered who you were dealing with—this was Spencer Reid, the man who once cried over a nightmare where you left him. The same man who wore his heart on his sleeve and wouldn’t lie if his life depended on it. Cheating was out of the question; it just wasn’t in his nature.
So, with that in mind, you found yourself walking into the kitchen one evening, determined to figure out what was going on. The moment you stepped into the room, Spencer practically jumped out of his skin, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like panic. His hand reflexively shot behind his back, as if he were trying to hide something.
“What’s behind your back?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light and teasing, though curiosity gnawed at you.
His cheeks flushed a deep pink, and he stammered, “What do you mean? There’s nothing behind my back.” He shook his head a little too quickly, his eyes avoiding yours in a way that only made you more suspicious.
“Spencer,” you said, laughing softly, “I can literally see you hiding something. What is it?”
He panicked, taking a step backward as if to put more distance between you and whatever it was he was concealing. The clumsy retreat would have been almost comical if it weren’t for the growing tension in the air. You reached out, trying to see what he was hiding, but he jerked away, keeping his back to you like a shield.
You stepped back, amusement fading into genuine concern. “Oh my god, you’re serious. What is it?”
Spencer hesitated, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape route. The longer he stayed silent, the more your anxiety grew, twisting into a knot in your chest.
“Spencer, you’re scaring me right now.”
Finally, with great reluctance, he slowly brought his hand out from behind his back, revealing a small velvet box. Time seemed to stop as your eyes fell on the box, understanding dawning on you in a rush of emotion. You clamped your hand over your eyes and, without thinking, screamed, “NO!”
His heart dropped, and he froze in place. “What do you mean no?”
You were practically hyperventilating, your words tumbling out in a breathless rush. “Do not show me because if you do, I’m going to cry, and then you’re not going to be happy with proposing in the kitchen, so this did not happen.”
Spencer’s face was a mix of confusion and fear, his mind racing to catch up with what you were saying. “But… it is a yes?”
You peeked through your fingers, meeting his nervous gaze. “Yes, Spencer, it’s a yes.”
He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him as he took a tentative step closer. “Are you sure? Because I don’t want to ruin this moment—”
You cut him off with a kiss, your hands trembling as you cupped his face, the velvet box pressed between your bodies. “Yes, Spencer. It’s a yes. A thousand times yes.”
Spencer’s expression softened into a look of pure adoration, and he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you as if he were afraid to let go. “I’m sorry it wasn’t more romantic,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, tears already spilling down your cheeks. “This is perfect. You’re perfect. I just—can we pretend I didn’t freak out?”
He chuckled softly, pressing his forehead to yours. “Only if we can pretend I wasn’t hiding in the kitchen.”
“Deal,” you whispered, feeling the warmth of his breath on your lips as you smiled through your tears.
With a tender kiss, Spencer finally opened the velvet box, revealing a beautiful ring that caught the light just right, sparkling in a way that made your heart flutter. He took your trembling hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger as both of you laughed and cried, the joy and relief of the moment overwhelming.
It wasn’t the grand, romantic proposal either of you had imagined, but in that small, cluttered kitchen, with the dishes still in the sink and the faint smell of dinner lingering in the air, it was perfect. It was real. And as Spencer pulled you into another embrace, his fingers brushing the ring on your hand as if to reassure himself that this was really happening.
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I Surrender Who I've been, For Who You Are
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Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of past trauma, past abuse, torture, death, some smut MDNI (18+), slow morning sex, fingering but it fades to black, mentions of sex, Ghost opening up
Words: 5.7k
Synopsis: Simon opens up to you...
Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist
You currently reading chapter 9 of The Roommate Series
Simon jerked awake and it took him a moment to realize he was in bed with you. He took a couple of deep breaths to slow his racing heart and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling to ground himself.
Another nightmare. He couldn’t remember what it was about, and that was a good thing, but he knew by the sinking pit of dread in his stomach that it had been something awful. 
He grabbed his phone and squinted when it turned on to see that he had woken up at five on the dot, which didn’t surprise him considering he had never slept in since he had joined the military. Even when he was home he still got up around five and usually he would be making breakfast on most days but today was Thursday, meaning you had an early class.
He sighed and he felt that all too familiar pit form in his stomach. He tossed his phone away and rolled over to see you curled up beside him. 
You were deep in sleep and yet even in your sleep you leaned most of your weight against him. Not that he minded, in fact he liked it almost too much because instead of getting out of bed as soon as he woke up like normal he got even more comfortable.
He pulled you into his chest and breathed in your scent deeply, burying his nose in the crook of your neck before he shut his eyes.
Simon wanted to keep you here. It was selfish but after everything, after coming home to you injured and after what happened earlier this week, he didn’t want to have to say goodbye to you and spend a couple hours by himself. He’d much rather spend time with you especially now that his injury was mostly healed.
He wanted to take you on more dates, it would be the best time for it since it was technically summer now, there would be more opportunities to act like a couple.
Simon ran his thumb across your skin as he hugged you closer to him. 
A couple. A relationship, that was certainly something he had never done before. He had never had anything this serious in his life, any relationship in his past had been one time flings or casual hookups with the same person for a few months before they eventually got tired of waiting for him. 
This was nothing like that and while that scared him he also knew that this is what he wanted. For once he knew that he belonged with you, he was confident that you were the one he wanted to be with and he knew he could live up to your expectations as well.
But he also knew that meant he needed to be more open with you.
And he couldn’t lie to himself and say that didn’t terrify him.
Simon built walls, he didn’t break them or remove them because those walls kept him safe. It was so much easier for him to keep everything to himself and deal with it on his own where he controlled those feelings and thoughts rather than let anyone know what was going on in his mind. He relied on that safety for most of his life and most of his career considering just how downhill it went, even if it isolated him. 
But that safety pushed you away and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. Suddenly it felt too lonely and his walls felt more like a prison, especially when he realized just how badly they could hurt the one he loved.
He’d never forget hearing you cry behind the bathroom door and in some sick twisted way he hoped he always remembered if that happened again.
He knew he had to be more open with you, about whatever he was feeling but also about himself too. It wasn’t fair to only show you a tiny part of Simon Riley, the part that was the “perfect” version of himself for you when he knew it would blow up in his face if he continued to keep most of himself hidden.
He wasn’t sure how to do it, how to open up to you but at least he knew you’d never have to see Ghost. That was the one thing he couldn’t compromise on because if you saw Ghost then he was sure you wouldn’t find anything good about him to stay.
Simon let out another deep sigh. He’d figure out how to do it sometime soon, he needed a plan and to prepare himself for the worst when he decided to sit you down for a talk. For now, he just wanted to spend a few more minutes with you in bed before you had to get up. 
His eyebrows knitted together and he opened his eyes to a slightly brighter room as the sun rose outside.
Your alarm should’ve gone off by now, he was sure of it. He didn’t want to snoop through your phone but he also didn’t want you to be late to your class, even if you hated it. 
Simon gently ran his hand up your arm before he placed a few soft kisses to your cheek. He squeezed your shoulder as he placed kisses against your skin and watched you slowly wake up from your deep sleep.
“Love.” He mumbled and you hummed as you leaned closer to him, letting him press another kiss to your temple. “You need to wake up for your class.”
“It’s summer break.” You placed a hand over his and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. 
He paused for a minute and stared at you. He’s not sure why it didn’t click that it was summer, maybe because it really didn’t matter when he was at work, but suddenly he felt warmth spread across his body. He had uninterrupted time to spend with you now, at least until Price came to check on him and bring him back to the base.
He didn’t want to think of that right now. Now he just wanted to make up for the fact he woke you up so early for nothing.
“Sorry.” Simon hummed and started to place slow, opened mouth kisses on your neck. 
He continued when you let out a deep sigh and revealed more of your neck to him, a small whimper escaping your mouth when he sucked on the spot just underneath your ear. 
The noises you made fueled the fire in his stomach as he began to grind his hard cock against your ass, his kisses becoming more heated when you pressed yourself against him. 
He slipped his hand underneath your shirt and palmed your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers as you let out a soft moan. He ran his calloused fingers down your skin and lightly nipped your earlobe as his fingers slid into your underwear. His fingers teased your slick folds before he delved into your heat while his thumb rubbed slow but deep circles on your clit.
You were so warm and the moans you let out were so beautiful that he could imagine this is what heaven had to be like.
Simon stood in the kitchen preparing to make breakfast a couple hours later. He glanced at the clock and couldn’t help but feel proud of himself that you were still asleep. It only felt right considering it was your summer break and after the past week and half of him recovering, you deserved to rest. 
He ran his fingers across the taut skin where a new scar would be added to his body. The stitches had dissolved earlier in the week and the pain was long gone, he was back to normal, or as normal as someone like him could be.
He began to make breakfast and his mind wandered.
Getting back on the mission would be tough, especially after having been abruptly taken off it, and he wondered how much the others have gotten done in the two weeks he’s been gone. He knew they got the intel they needed when he had gone back to get patched up but Price was keeping a tight lip on any info.
“No talking shop over the phone, you know that. Recover and spend time with your partner, I’ll call you when I need you.”
It was frustrating and the only thing that made it better was the fact that he had you. If it weren’t for the fact that this was an opportunity for him to spend time with you he’d be losing his mind over this.
You made it better, you always made being home away from work better and that made him even more inclined to open up.
Christ, where would he even start?
His entire life was, is, a mess, a disaster, especially compared to yours and anywhere he thought about starting felt like too much. There were so many details he wouldn’t dare tell you but how do you even go about telling someone your life has never been good until you were an adult who’s just going by day to day?
He didn’t want to scare you away, put too much on you or make you think that he expected you to carry all of his emotional burdens. Would you even want to stay with him if he told you all that was wrong with him?
What had his therapist said all those years ago? Fuck, it’s all blurred together now and it’s not like he can call her up to ask.
Simon sighed deeply and took a long sip of his tea. 
Maybe he was overthinking it, maybe he was making the wrong choice. He didn’t know what was right, what was wrong, what any of this meant and he wasn’t sure if there was anyone in his life that he could ask for advice about it.
If his mum were still alive…
Your bedroom door opened and stole his attention away from his thoughts. He listened to you slowly make your way to the kitchen and a smile tugged at his lips. He was a little disappointed he wasn’t the one to wake you up again but it didn’t matter much to him as he heard you walk down the hall. 
“Morning.” He greeted you when you entered the kitchen.
He peered over his shoulder when you gave him a sleepy hum and his chest warmed when he saw your bedhead. You were wearing one of his shirts and you attempted to rub the sleep from your eyes as you came up to him.
You place a hand on his bare back and Simon leaned into your touch before he pulled you into his side.
“Smells good.” You breathed out as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his chest.
“Not the strangest compliment I’ve gotten.” He teased and sighed deeply when you pressed a kiss to his skin with a small laugh. “Sleep alright?”
“Oh, yeah. I slept great.”
Simon smirked and let the compliment feed his ego as he held you close to him. He finished up breakfast and went to get the plates for you both when you took his attention away by stopping him.
Your eyes met and for a moment the air was knocked out of his lungs. You looked at him with such an endearing affectionate look that for a moment he forgot exactly who he was and everything that he had come from. All he could do was remember all the times you had looked at him with the same fondness before as if he was a different man with less scars on his body and his mind.
The warmth in your eyes was all encompassing. You somehow always reserved it for him whenever you stared at him like this, when you were in his arms or halfway across the room, and it never failed to make the tension leave from his worn muscles. 
It was unmistakable, what the look meant, and yet some part of him still held onto the doubt in the back of his mind because you made it look so effortless.
His throat tightened up for just a moment before he swallowed the lump and pressed his forehead against yours.
“Careful looking at me like that.” He warned softly and watched as you began to grin. 
“Like what?” There was glint in your eye and he scoffed.
“Cheeky.”
He kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered shut. He ran his fingers across your hairline before he gently caressed your face like you were made of glass. He held you close to him, caging you to his chest and you leaned into him with a sigh.
“Breakfast’ll get cold.” You murmured but made no indication that you were going to move out of his arms, in fact you hugged him closer.
“I’ll make more.”
You chuckled before the both of you reluctantly let go of each other. Unfortunately, neither of you were keen on letting good breakfast go to waste and before long the two of you sat across from each other while you ate. 
The conversation was easy, it always was when it came to you, and for a moment he wondered why he ever thought that speaking to you about the darker side of his life would ever be an issue.
“What’s on your mind?” You wondered.
He must’ve been staring off into space or maybe you just knew what to look for when he thought a little too hard. It was too early in the morning for a talk like that. He’d rather wait until the day was almost over so if it went wrong at least he wouldn’t have ruined a good day like today.
“What do you want to do today?” He changed the subject.
You hummed, your eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion at his dismissal of the question. You stared at him and he stared back unphased but amused as he saw you debate in real time on whether or not you wanted to press him about what he was thinking about.
Simon continued to eat and raised his eyebrows to silently ask you to say something.
“I need to get a birthday present for my friend.” You said and he nodded. “So we can go shopping and you can tell me what you're thinking about.”
“Would you believe me if I said nothing?”
“Absolutely not.”
He sighed and shook his head but he didn’t feel annoyed. He knew if it came down to it, you wouldn’t pressure him to speak about whatever he was thinking about. It bothered him but he would tell you eventually, once he got the courage to do it and because he made a promise to you.
You gave him a smile, a warm one, but he saw the hidden mischief behind it. There was no avoiding the conversation now, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to avoid it anymore anyway.
“Later.” He promised and your eyes widened slightly with surprise. “What?”
“I thought it’d take more convincing.” You said and he shrugged with a small smile on his face.
“You’re persuasive.”
You gasped and he watched your eyes twinkle as you came to the realization that you had a lot more power over him than you had originally thought. He could see your confidence peak more and more as you stared at him with shock while you slowly became elated over the idea of convincing him to whatever you wanted him to do.
“So what you’re saying I could ask you to do anything?”
Simon had to stop himself from telling you the truth that yes, you really could ask him to do anything and he’d do it. It was almost scary how willing he was to do anything for you just because it was you but he would do it without much thought, especially if it meant you were happy.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He shook his head but you were grinning, much like how Soap did when he got an outrageous idea and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of dread.
“Sorry, but all I’m hearing is free lunch today.” You teased and he rolled his eyes as if he’d let you pay for your own lunch anyway.
The two of you finished breakfast and before you could snatch the empty plates away from Simon, he had already put them in the sink and began to wash them. You gave him a playful glare, one that he returned before he nodded towards the door.
It was surprising how willing he was to go shopping nowadays if it meant he got to spend more time with you. He couldn’t believe he was trying to get you to hurry and get ready so the two of you could do it together. 
“Go get dressed.” He told you so the two of you could get started on shopping.
“Help me.”
Simon’s eyes shot to yours and he stopped what he was doing.
You had a glint in your eyes as you looked at him through your eyelashes. There was a deep desire within them, something that could only be attributed to lust as you lightly dragged your fingernails across his skin which left goosebumps in their wake. 
You grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the door.
He followed you without hesitation. 
~
Simon stood in the store with you later, confused as to why you had immediately gone to the toy section instead of anywhere else in the store since he was sure that the friend you were getting the present for was at the same university as you.
“What are we doing in the toy aisle?” He practically glared at the toys on the shelves on either side of him.
“My friend likes these stuffed animals.” You explained as you sifted through the stuffed animals in front of you without a care in the world.
He grunted and stepped closer to you, his eyes fixated on the various toys around him. Most of them were generic, Barbies and other dolls with all of the accessories they’d ever need, random toy animals and of course the stuffed animals you were looking at. He was sure that the next aisle over had even more options for children to play with and he felt himself tense up slightly at the idea.
This was the first time he had been in the toy aisle since Joseph. 
So much had changed. There were so many different toys than what he could barely remember and yet he couldn’t help but think that his nephew probably would’ve loved to play with all of them.
He clenched his jaw and turned his attention elsewhere before a lego set caught his eye. 
It was small, nothing spectacular compared to the other ones on the shelf that he could see, but it still caught his eye. He never had a lego set growing up and he knew for a fact that if he had seen the one he was staring at when he was younger he would’ve begged his mum to get it for him only to be told no.
In hindsight, it wouldn’t have survived in his house if he had it anyway.
“Did you play with legos when you were a kid?” You asked, your voice pulling his attention away from his thoughts.
“No.”
He turned to you and saw that your face had fallen into a slight frown. You glanced between him and the lego set, your eyes having a sort of soft sadness in them that made him clench his jaw slightly.
He didn’t mean to be short with you but he wasn’t ready to tell you all about why he never got to play with legos as a kid in the middle of the store. No one in public needed to know what his home life used to be like.
“What kind of toys did you play with?” You wondered.
“Figurines.” He lied and looked at the toy animals across from him. “I read more as a kid.”
“That reminds me that you need to get more books, you read them all.”
He hummed and nodded, ready to let you change the subject as he watched you pick out a stuffed animal you thought that your friend would like. He followed you to the check out before you somehow convinced him to drive the car closer to pick you up at the doors instead of having you walk to the car with him. 
Before long, the two of you were back at the flat after having an early lunch he of course paid for even when you tried to argue that you were joking about it beforehand.
Now he sat on the couch with you watching the horrible TV show you liked but his mind was elsewhere.
Simon still found himself stuck inside his thoughts, playing over the idea of telling you or not, to the point he was thinking in circles not getting any closer to an answer. Nothing sounded right, not telling you felt like he wasn’t being truthful but telling you felt like maybe it was just too much.
He didn’t realize how quiet he’d gotten until you placed a gentle hand on top of his and leaned some of your weight against him. 
You had a concerned look in your eyes when they met but he gave you a small reassuring smile before he took your hand in his. You didn’t look that convinced even when he gave your hand a squeeze.
“I might have something to cheer you up.” You offered and he raised an eyebrow. 
“I’m not upset.” He said, which wasn’t a total lie since he was more confused than anything.
“Can I still try?”
“Depends on what you have.”
You jumped up from the couch. He watched you curiously as you rushed into your room before you returned with your hands hidden behind your back, much like how you acted when you were giving him the joke book for his birthday.
He gave you a suspicious look and tried to peek around you to see what you had, but you moved it out of his view each time he leaned forward.
“This is not pay back for driving me around today or buying me lunch.” You prefaced and his eyebrows knitted together.
It wasn’t until you pulled out the lego set he had been staring at earlier that his eyes widened slightly and he gave you an unsure look. You however gave him a warm smile before you held it out for him to take and sat down next to him when he did.
“Why?” That was the only thing he could ask you as he stared at the box before he looked at you.
“Because I like you.” You said and he felt his chest tighten. “Everyone deserves to play with legos.”
It took everything in Simon to not drop the box on the floor and kiss you until both of you were about to pass out. How could you say something like that so easily and be completely serious about it as if it were some natural fact about the world. Your words calmed him and riled him up, it caused a torrent of different emotions inside of him that felt so overwhelming good he had no clue how to deal with them.
You were everything to him and he was so afraid of losing you because of who he was.
“You’ll help me, yeah?” 
“Of course.”
Simon wasn’t sure how long the two of you sat there and worked on the lego set. He had a lot more fun with it than he would’ve thought even as he followed the instructions and listened to you talk. He wasn’t sure why sitting next to you and playing with legos of all things made his chest feel warm and made him truly understand that his feelings for you were deeper than anything he had ever felt before but he couldn’t have been happier.
You made him feel so safe and so loved. He knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
“Can I…I want to be more open with you.” He began and you gave him your full attention. “But I don’t want it to change anything.”
“It won’t.” You said confidently and for a moment he felt a twinge of anxiety hit his stomach.
How could you be so sure? What if he told you and you decided he wasn’t worth it?
“You are worth it to me because it’s you.”
Your words repeated in his head and the anxiety settled. He had to trust that you were truthful when you said it, that you really meant it.
He set the last of the lego set down and settled back against the couch, his attention on you as you did the same. He watched as you kept a short distance between the two of you and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for that.
“We go at your pace.” You told him.  “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re uncomfortable.”
Simon nodded and thought for a moment. He had no idea where to start, how to talk about it without sounding utterly insane but all he could manage was speaking matter of factly about it.
“My father was abusive.” He practically blurted it out.
You had a serious look on your face and though your eyes went sad he didn’t see pity in them, and somehow that made him feel better. You didn’t say anything as you patiently waited for him to continue.
“He used to torment me. I was always too afraid to stand up to him or to fight back. I joined the military to get away but I always wanted to help, and I was able to get the job that I have now because of that. When I came home it was worse than before…I wasn’t scared anymore and I was finally able to kick him out and never had to see him again.”
“Where is he now?”
“Dead.”
You nodded and he was grateful there was an ounce of remorse for the bastard in your eyes. Instead, you placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly across his muscles as you went silent again.
“I stayed after that. My brother was an addict and I couldn’t leave ‘em so I helped him get and stay clean, helped my mum too.” He went on and leaned into you when you began to trace patterns into his tattoo.
“That was good of you.” You told him with a proud smile that warmed his chest. 
“Before long Tommy met his wife and got married, then he had Joseph. I had a nephew who had to be the best kid I’d ever met even when he acted out. For once in my life I had a family that felt good, because life was good.”
Images of Simon’s happy family replayed in his mind. His mum who always treated him kindly even when he would have his moment, even when she had been under extreme stress because of his father. Tommy and the way they finally got close after everything and how trusted him enough to let him babysit Joseph. Images of the kid who always wanted to be around him, who looked up at him as if he were the coolest person in the room.
They were far from perfect but they were his family. 
He couldn’t help but wonder what they would’ve thought of you. He could imagine his brother teasing him about how you were “out of his league” or how his mum would fawn over you at every chance she would get, pulling you to the side with Beth and telling you all of the embarrassing stories about him she could.
Simon’s face had fallen and you stopped tracing his tattoo. 
“They would’ve loved you.”
Your eyes widened and your face fell. You looked almost panicked as you stared at him. He could see you thinking up every possibility, hoping that you were wrong about what you knew he was implying as a deep sadness crept into your eyes. 
“Are they…?” You barely spoke above a whisper and when he nodded you immediately grabbed his hand. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”
Simon held your hand firmly. He felt the heavy weight of grief push against him like many times before. It happened years ago now but sometimes it still felt like it was recent. Normally he wouldn’t feel so upset but maybe it was because he was finally talking about it to someone else, with you, that it began to open old wounds.
“I went back to work once everything was normal. I was asked to help for an op and there were these two soldiers with me when it went south.” He trailed off and suddenly his voice was lost.
Panic hit his chest and he swallowed hard. He balled his hands into fists as he tried his hardest to hide the fact that he was beginning to shake.
How could you love someone who went through what he did? His scars never bothered him until this moment, until he realized that once he told you where most of them came from you might not look at him the same way. You might look at him like he was broken and not worth the hassle even when he was going to spare you the details.
What happened to him doesn’t happen to regular people and you deserved someone a lot more normal than him. 
You caught his attention when you gave his hand a comforting squeeze. When he looked at you, your eyes were reassuring despite the sadness in them and you rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.
“It’s okay.” Your voice was soft and warm. “We can stop.”
He shook his head. Even if he was afraid he knew he had to say something, if he didn’t then he’d regret it later on.
Before he could think, Simon pulled you into his lap and hugged you. He let out a shaky breath when you hugged him back, your fingers carding through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. 
He held you like this would be the last time he would be able to. He stayed quiet for a long moment so he could just sit in your presence as he waited to get enough composure to continue.
You waited too. You didn’t say anything as you continued to play with his hair. 
“I was tortured for months.”
You shot up and he felt his heart go into his throat. You stared at him with horror as tears immediately filled up your eyes while you stared at him in disbelief. 
You shook your head as you held his face delicately and your thumb caressed the scar close to his eye. Tears began to fall and intense grief flashed across your face, like you were mourning his death, before he wrapped his arms around your waist.
He watched you cry and watched your heart break for him. Guilt rose up inside him and he rubbed his thumbs into your hips.
“I’m sorry-”
“No. Don’t you dare apologize.”
You sobbed softly and you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. Unfortunately they wouldn’t stop so instead you pulled him back into a hug that he gratefully accepted.
He knew you didn’t want him to feel guilty for telling you and he knew that you were trying hard to stop yourself from crying. He knew you too well to know that you were crying because you were upset that something bad had happened to him which would’ve been endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he felt incredibly vulnerable right now.
He was glad he had you. Just having you in his lap was enough to make him feel safe.
“I’m sorry.” You sniffled and tried to wipe the tears away from your eyes. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Simon held you tighter. You began to run your hands through his hair again and he slowly found it easier to breathe despite the shakiness in his chest. 
He didn’t deserve it. You believed that, of course you would and for once he actually believed it too.
He had told himself so many times that he somehow deserved it, he must’ve done something to cause his father to treat him that way, that he must’ve done something horrible to end up on the end of torture for months on end. He had to because that only happened to the worst kinds of people and yet…
He didn’t deserve it.
He took a deep, shaky breath and hugged you closer to him. A massive weight lifted off of his shoulders and he buried his face in the crook of your neck as he blinked away the tears. 
“I’m better than I used to be.” He assured you with all honesty. “Some days are just worse than others.”
“And that’s okay.” You placed a warm kiss on his temple. “I’ll be strong when you can’t.”
Simon’s heart skipped a beat and he cursed under his breath.
He pulled away from you and locked you into a deep, tender kiss. You were still crying but he didn’t care as he held onto you as if you were his saving grace. 
You kissed him back just as fervently, caressing his face and holding him as if you were protecting him from the world. 
There were so many emotions swirling inside of him that he wished he could tell you how much he loved you, how far he was willing to go for you and everything he’d do for you.
He’d tell you ten times over, he’d tell you everyday if he could but the words always died in his throat before he could even open his mouth. He hoped you knew even without the words. He hoped that everything he did to try to show you how much he loved you was enough until he could finally say it. 
Every kiss he gave you meant: I love you.
Link to part 10
A/N: I hope this didn't come off as trauma dumping but I think the only way Simon would feel comfortable enough being vulnerable with someone would be to just explain what happened but also yay we're healing. Also not my best in the series but this is also the best I could do after being burnt out. I hope you guys like this
The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!
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@kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazing @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @alastorhazbin @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepselecric @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @maviee @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison
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hungermakesmonsters · 1 month
Text
(Once Bitten) Twice Shy
Chapter Nineteen
Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence. A lot more violence than usual. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 
Word Count : 5.6k
A/N : I'm not crying, you're crying 😭
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MASTER LIST
Chapter Nineteen
There was a light at the end of the nothingness that you were fighting so desperately to get to. It got brighter and brighter the closer you got, causing your head to hurt and your eyes to strain. Turning away from the light, you felt something soft against your face, something that smelled like... laundry detergent?
The realisation that you were still alive came slowly, scratching away in the back of your mind as you struggled to open your eyes and force yourself awake. The dream wanted to hold you a little longer and almost managed to pull you back under, but the light was so bright.
A pained murmur escaped you as your eyes finally opened, straining against the midday sun pouring through the windows. You squinted, struggling to focus tired eyes on anything. Your head was pounding but, soon enough, familiarity started to stir inside you.
You knew where you were. 
You were in your room. In your bed.
In Billy’s penthouse.
(You were home.)
You tried to sit up, but you were too tired, too weak to do anything more than lift your head. That’s when you realised he was right there at your side, his head buried in his folded arms at the edge of your bed, Bill the Beagle beside him. You tried to think back, tried to remember what had happened, but everything felt like a blur, like it had all just been some horrible nightmare.
All you could really remember was wanting to be with Billy.
“Billy?” Your voice was a hoarse whisper, your throat aching and straining.
Your neck - you’d been hurt, hadn’t you? You reached for your throat and felt the edge of your bandages, but you didn’t have time to think more about it, not when Billy finally lifted his head and looked at you.
For a few seconds, he just stared, the dark circles under his eyes betraying the fact that he’d been at your side for a long time.
How long had he been there?
How long had you been there?
“You’re awake,” he muttered in disbelief as he took your hand in his, gripping tight. “I thought - I thought I’d lost you...”
All you could think to do was squeeze his hand, not sure what you could say to make him feel better because you couldn’t remember. You had no idea what he’d been through.
“Wh-what happened?” You managed to ask, and watched, again, as he fell silent and stared at you uncomfortably.
“Drake, he -” he started and stopped, his gaze dropping, “- we came to save you.”
He’d rescued you.
Despite everything you’d done and the pain you must have caused him, Billy had risked his life to come save you. He hadn’t given up on you.
“How long have I been back?” You asked. “How long was I sleeping?”
“Three days.”
There was something else, something he wasn’t telling you, something that had shame etched across his features, but it was hard to focus, hard to think about anything beyond the fact that you were safe and you were with him again.
“I don’t feel right...” you muttered, closing your eyes again for a few long seconds.
“I know, hummingbird,” he said tenderly, brushing his thumb across the back of your hand. “I know, but it’ll get better, I promise. You just need to rest.”
You didn’t know what any of that meant. You didn’t know what it was but, again, you were too exhausted to think straight, too out of it to fully grasp the situation. Billy reached for you with his free hand, softly stroking your hair, trying to lull you back to sleep before you could even think to ask any questions.
But you felt cold and uncomfortable despite the thick blanket on top of you. More than that, you felt starved for comfort.
You felt awful and all you wanted was a hug.
“Billy?” You asked, fighting against sleep.
“Yes?” He answered, his hand slipping from your hair to your cheek.
“Can you hold me? Just for a little while?”
“Of course,” he said, his voice breaking just a little, “I’ll hold you as long as you want me to.”
You managed a weak smile as Billy pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. He laid beside you and let you snuggle closer, getting yourself comfortable before wrapping his arms around you. Resting your head on his chest, you let out a contented sigh as he started to stroke your hair again.
For a few moments you were silent, thinking back to the last time he’d held you; how you’d both been so happy, so content. And you’d ruined it.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, burying your face against his sweater.
“Oh, hummingbird, whatever for?” He asked, sounding like his heart was breaking.
“For always causing you so many problems,” you answered with a sniffle, pressing closer to him, suddenly worried he might pull away.
His arms tightened around you and you felt his lips press against the top of your head.
“You never cause me problems, hummingbird,” he told you firmly, though his voice still sounded broken and strained. “I’d go to hell and back for you, to keep you safe, and it’d never be a problem for me because I - I love you. I love you so much.”
A tear rolled down your cheek and you felt so overwhelmed that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You felt safe, loved, but more exhausted than you’d ever been. It felt like all of this was just some wonderful dream that would be snatched away from you the moment you dared to look away, and you just couldn’t stop crying.
“I’m so tired, Billy,” you told him, tears falling more freely, soaking into the fabric of his red sweater.
“I know. I’m so sorry about that but I promise you’ll feel better soon. You just need to rest, okay?” He told you gently, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.
“Will you stay with me?”
“Always,” he answered and you had no idea just how much he meant it.
Despite your tears, it wasn’t long before your exhaustion won out and you drifted off but, true to his word, Billy stayed with you, holding you tight as you slept.
------------
As he laid with you, Billy couldn’t help but think back to that night, to the hotel, to the moment leading up to finding you on the floor with your throat torn.
The elevator ride felt like it took a lifetime, like every second was time you didn’t have, and the longer it took, the more afraid he felt. He couldn’t stay still, he was practically vibrating with rage, eager to get to the prick that had tried to take you from him, eager to snuff out his miserable existence. He could see Madani out of the corner of his eye, watching him as he tried not to crawl out of his own skin. 
Frank stood on his other side, completely stoic and prepared for what was to come, but Billy knew better than to think his friend was unaware what was going on. He’d seen Billy like this before, he knew just how tenuous his self-control really was.
Madani checked her gun and Frank did likewise. Billy left his holstered, instead gripping a knife. That was all he needed; this was personal and he wanted it to hurt.
The elevator let out a ding before the doors slid open.
The first goon didn’t even have a chance to unholster his sidearm before Frank dropped him.
Billy looked at Madani; “go find her, we’ll deal with Drake.”
She paused but only for a split-second before nodding and starting to move into the penthouse suite, disappearing into one of the bedrooms, while Frank and Billy pressed on to the living area.
Another goon popped out and met a quick end with Billy’s knife in his throat. There was no telling how many of them were squirrelled away in the suite, but Billy was going to relish finding out.
Everything became a blur the moment he first set eyes on Justin Drake. He looked at Billy with a hint of familiarity, like he’d done his research, and grinned. His face was painted dark red with blood, and Billy knew immediately that he’d hurt you, though he wouldn’t allow himself to even contemplate that you might be dead.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Drake remarked. “But I’m afraid you’re late to the party.”
At Billy’s side, Frank had another goon by the neck, pummelling him with the butt of his gun. Billy’s fingers tightened their grip on the knife and things started to get hazy.
He cleared the distance, trading blows with Drake. At some point they’d ended up on the floor, ripping and tearing at each other, both trying to gain the upper hand. His knife ended up in Drake’s thigh, while Drake’s fangs tore into Billy’s shoulder. 
Billy felt himself slipping, giving in to the rage that was so desperate to escape, the anger inside of him that wanted nothing more than to punish the piece of shit that had hurt you.
As they rolled and tussled, Drake pressed a thumb against Billy’s eye, his other hand at Billy’s throat.Billy lashed out, swinging punches and tearing his fangs through Drake’s arm until he managed to retrieve the knife from Drake’s thigh.
Before he had time to register what had happened and what he’d done, Billy was on top of Drake’s lifeless body, his throat cut in a way that even a vampire couldn’t recover from. His hands and clothes were slick with blood and viscera. But there was no time to think about what he’d done, not once he heard Madani’s shouts and felt Frank’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him back to the moment.
He needed to get to you.
Scrambling to his feet, he almost fell as he made his way to the source of the shouting; to you and Madani on the floor in a puddle of your blood.
Despite Madani’s reassurances that help was on the way, he knew it was already too late.
His breath caught as you looked up at him, his hand quickly grasping yours.
“B-Billy,” you choked out, “you’re h-here...”
He squeezed your hand, already knowing that he couldn’t let go, that he’d never let go. He didn’t even try to hold back the tears that were starting to well in the corners of his eyes.
“I told you,” he muttered, feeling like his heart was breaking in two, “I’ll never let you go.”
And he wouldn’t. Not now, not ever.
You tried to mutter an apology, but your voice came out so weak and small, your life slowly slipping away from you. 
Panic and dread started to fill his chest, knowing that the end was getting closer.
“Dont. Don’t try to talk. Just - just stay still, stay with me, it’s going to be alright.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke, wanting so desperately for you to know that he was there and that nothing bad was going to happen to you. He wasn’t going to lose you.
“I l-love -”
“Hey - hey, hummingbird, keep your eyes on me. It’s going to be okay,” but he could see you slipping, he could see that last spark of life in your eyes dimming.
He knew he needed to do something, that he couldn’t just let you die, but there was only one option and Billy knew it was the one thing you didn’t want. Billy only had a second to think about it, he couldn’t waste any more time than that - he’d rather you hate him forever than lose you completely.
“I’m sorry,” he told you, voice fraught and broken. “I love you and - and I’m sorry. I know you’re going to hate me but...” he fell silent for a moment but there was no response. You were still breathing but only just. There wasn’t much time left.
He shouted for Frank.
“You gotta turn her,” he begged, pleading with his friend.
“Bill she don’t want -”
“You think she wants to die?” He snapped. There was another beat of silence and it looked like Frank wasn’t going to back down. His stomach threatened to turn itself inside out. He couldn’t take no for an answer. “If you don’t do it, I will.”
“You’d infect her?” Frank asked angrily. “Make her like you?”
“If it means keeping her alive,” Billy answered back.
“She wouldn’t be alive, not like she knows it. I -”
“What would you do if it was Karen?” He asked, watching as anger flashed across Frank’s face just at the mere thought of anyone hurting Karen this way.
“You love her that much?”
“I can’t live without her,” he answered, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “I won’t live without her.”
You were barely even there anymore when Frank moved to your side and looked down at you, a silent apology in his eyes as he leaned down and sunk his teeth into you.
Then, they’d brought you home and tended to your wounds, hoping that the bite would take and that you’d turn.
Billy had sat by yours side the whole time, barely moving, only daring to close his eyes for an hour or so at a time. And, since that moment, he’d felt like there was an invisible countdown, a clock slowly ticking down to the moment when you realised what had been done to you. 
The moment you would start to hate him.
------------
It was dark when your eyes opened again. A whole day and a half had slipped by unnoticed but to you it felt like only a few hours had passed. You felt sharper - still tired and cold, but you finally felt like you could think straight. You finally felt like you could fill in some of the blanks and figure out what was going on.
Billy was still with you, still holding you. When you slowly lifted your head from his chest, you realised he was asleep and, while you had so many questions, the last thing you wanted to do was wake him. He’d been so tired earlier, he’d looked as bad as you’d felt and just as overwhelmed. He needed rest.
Lifting a hand to your neck, you realised that not only were the bandages gone, but so was the cast from your arm. Your throat felt normal, not even tender where you’d been bitten. It was almost like it had never even happened.
But how could that be?
How long had you been recovering?
More to the point, was it even possible to recover from a wound like the one Drake had inflicted?
You tried to remember that night, tried to think back, but all that remained were a collection of fuzzy memories; Drake trying to get you to leave, Madani appearing at your side, Billy holding your hand, and Frank -
Moving suddenly, you pulled away from Billy’s arms and scrambled out of bed. Your legs felt weak and unstable, like you hadn’t used them in days (because you hadn’t).
The more questions you had, the more the pieces started to fall into place. You’d been hurt, badly, so badly that there shouldn’t have been any coming back from it. And, now, Billy was in your room - how was he in your room?
You wanted so desperately to find another conclusion, something better than the one you were stuck with, but the more you thought about it, the more you came to realise that there was only one thing that made a damned bit of sense.
He’d turned you.
You were a vampire.
“Hummingbird?” Your eyes snapped to him as he spoke, seeing the worry etched on his face despite the darkness. “Are you -”
“Tell me you didn’t...” you pleaded in a low but desperate whisper, torn between anger and sorrow.
His expression became one of shame as he slowly got out of bed and took a step towards you.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” You demanded. “Why would you -”
“Because I couldn’t lose you,” he answered, daring to take another step towards you. “Because I love you and I could bear to lose you like that.”
As he reached for you, you took a step back, his fingers ghosting your hand as you pulled out of reach, and you could see the hurt in his eyes as you did. But, regardless of whatever was going on in his head, Billy gave you the space you so obviously needed and fell silent, letting you process what was going on.
“Tell me what happened,” you finally asked, trying so hard to hold back tears.
Billy let out a slow exhale and let his gaze drift towards the window. It took him a moment to start but, once he did, he didn’t stop until he’d told the whole story, leaving out no detail. It didn’t help. Not one bit. In fact, knowing what he’d been through to rescue you only seemed to make it worse.
“Please say something,” he gently prompted after a minute passed in silence. “Even if it’s just to tell me that you hate me...”
The problem was that you didn’t know what you wanted to say because you didn’t understand how you really felt. You were angry - so fucking angry - that he’d turned you, despite know it was something you never wanted, but you could also remember how scared you’d been, how you’d wanted nothing more than to just be able to be with him again. 
Now Drake was gone and you didn’t have to worry about Billy losing you to age or illness; every obstacle that had been in your way was gone now and, if you wanted to, you could be with Billy.
But there was something else, a thought you couldn’t escape.
“You turned me into something you hate,” you finally said.
He’d been clear from the start, hadn’t he? Billy didn’t like vampires.
“No, that’s not -” he shook his head as he struggled to find the right words, “- could never hate you.”
“You hate vampires, you hate being a vampire.”
“No, I - maybe I did, but I don’t anymore. What was it you said to me?” You trailed off, trying to remember the exact words. “You were glad that Frank turned me, you were happy that I’m a vampire because, if I wasn’t, we never would have met And that - that made me glad to be a vampire.”
You stayed silent, only shaking your head in response.
“My sickness, the way I was infected, and the way it’s led to me hurting so many people - that’s what I hate,” he tried again, “but you don’t have to deal with that.”
“I can’t give you blood. You don’t need me anymore.”
“Hummingbird -”
You reached for him suddenly, taking his hand and pressing it to your chest, above your heart; a heart that no longer raced for him.
“I can’t even be that anymore,” you told him, unable to stop a tear from rolling down your cheek. “I’m nothing... I’m worthless to you.”
“No, you’re wrong. You could never be nothing to me. You are my little hummingbird. And I love you; I loved you as a human and I’ll love you as a vampire,” Billy told you, his voice turning firmer, more certain, almost like he was angry that you didn’t believe him. “I know you didn’t want this, but I couldn’t live in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”
He kept his hand on your chest until you turned away from him.
“Can you leave me alone?” You asked softly, needing some time to unpack everything that had happened. 
“Please, don’t shut me out, humming -”
“Please, Billy?” You begged, still trying to hold back your tears until he was gone. “I just need to be on my own for a little while.”
There was silence, for a few seconds before he finally relented. “Okay, but I’ll be out in the penthouse, in our spot, waiting until you’re ready to talk. However long it takes...”
And, then, he was gone.
Hours passed as you tried to wrap your head around it and tried to understand how you really felt and, eventually, you realised what it was; you’d never wanted to be a vampire because the prospect of living forever terrified you, the idea of spending an eternity feeling like you didn’t belong, feeling unloved...
But that wasn’t how things were now. That wasn’t your life anymore. You weren’t just living how your parents wanted you to live, you weren’t just following rules and only ever doing what you were told. You did belong here and if you were certain of anything it was that Billy did love you.
(Still, what was to say he’d still feel the same about you in fifty years time?) 
Eventually there was a light knock on the door and, before you could think to say anything, it opened. 
Karen looked at you with what could only be described as absolute relief on her face and you quickly moved across the room to greet her, throwing your arms around her. She held you tight, muttering about how glad she was that you were alright, that you were safe. 
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, “we’ve all been so worried.”
“I’m sorry, I never meant to -”
“You don’t have anything to apologise for. We’re all just glad you’re safe,” Karen told you firmly. “After the first couple of days we started to worry you might never wake up, but Billy stayed by your side the whole time.”
“The whole time?”
“For days - we couldn’t even get him to leave to sleep,” she explained and the thought alone caused your chest to ache.
He’d been with you the whole time, watching over you for days, not sure if you’d ever wake up. And the moment you had woken up, you’d sent him away. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how it must have felt to him, how much it must have hurt him.
You held her for a few moments more until you realised that, under the sound of her voice, you could hear the steady thrum of her heart. Pulling away, you took a step back, making some space between you as a pang of hunger caused your stomach to cramp.
“I brought you somethin’ for that,” Frank said, as if he’d read your mind.
You hadn’t even realised he was there, you’d been so focused on Karen.
He held out a glass to you and you immediately felt sick. Blood. He’d brought you blood. You didn’t dare ask where from, though you quickly found yourself wondering if it was Karen’s. When you didn’t take it, Frank turned his attention to Karen, asking for a moment alone with you. And, when she left, the sound of her heartbeat went with her, allowing you to focus on Frank.
“Look, I -” he sighed, “- I know you didn’t want this life an’ I’m sorry that this is what it took to save you.”
“Why did you do it?”
“‘cause I’ve never seen Bill care about somethin’ the way he cares about you,” Frank answered. “losin’ you would’ve destroyed him. He told me that he wouldn’t live without you.”
Wouldn’t. Not couldn’t.
“He said that?”
The thought alone was enough to turn your stomach, that he’d do something so extreme, that he thought his life wouldn’t be worth living without you. And,deep down, you started to realise that you felt the same, that a life without Billy wouldn’t be worth living.
Frank nodded. “I know it ain’t my business, but he did what he thought was right. He didn’t think you deserved to die on some hotel room floor, bleedin’ out and terrified. An’ I know all this is gonna be a big adjustment for you, but we’re all here for you an’ we’re gonna help you through it.”
You offered up a slight nod of your own before reaching out to finally take the glass from him. Lifting it to your nose, you took a sniff, shocked to find that beneath the expected coppery tang, there was a hint of sweetness.
Turning away from Frank, you dared to take your first sip, your body instinctively reacting and gagging.
“‘s okay, that happens the first time,” he offered more gently than you’d ever heard him speak.
You took a breath before trying again, taking another slow sip. It went down easier and, almost instantly, you started to feel a little bit better. The hunger pains started to lessen and subside the more you drank and the ache in the back of your head seemed less intense.
When you’d drained the glass, you wiped your lips on the back of your hand before turning to face Frank again.
“Where is he?” You asked, even though you were certain you knew the answer already. He’d be exactly where he said he would be.
“He’s out there, talkin’ to Madani,” he answered but didn’t offer any more than that before reaching into his pocket and pulling out your phone. You watched as he placed it down on your desk. “You’ve got friends here, whenever you need us.”
Frank left it at that, leaving the room. Karen poked her head around the door and said her goodbyes, telling you that she’d take you out to Josie’s with Matt and Foggy as soon as you were feeling up to it. Then you were left alone again.
You let a few minutes pass before deciding to go find Billy, but the moment you reached the adjoining door between your rooms and the penthouse, you froze. 
Billy and Madani’s voices were easy to make out and you couldn’t help but listen in.
“Given the amount of evidence that was found in the hotel room and on Drake’s phone, connecting him and his associates to several high-ranking members of congress and the State Department, Homeland are less concerned about how he died and more bothered about cleaning up the massive mess that’s just landed on their laps,” Madani was explaining.
“So, they don’t care that me and Frank were there?” Billy asked.
“They’re not happy about it and, from now on, I think they’ll be paying close attention to you and Castle but, for now, they’re not interested in pursuing charges,” she explained, and you let out a soft sigh of relief.
There was a moment of silence before Madani spoke again.
“I should also tell you that we recovered the body of Mary Poots. Krista Dumont offered up a full confession after speaking to Layla El-Faouly -”
“You found Layla?” Billy asked.
“She found us when she heard we’d taken Dumont into custody,” Krista explained, “she wanted to make sure we understood that neither you nor she had anything to do with Dumont’s crimes. She also made it very clear that she had asked you to turn her.”
“So...” he started, letting that one little word hang in the air for a few seconds, “that answers all of your questions, doesn’t it? All the women you think I murdered have been accounted for.”
“That’s right,” Madani answered, “but I’m going to have to ask that you don’t leave town, we might have more questions as the case progresses.”
At that moment, you decided that you’d eavesdropped enough and quietly slipped through the door. Billy noticed you as Madani got to her feet, and her gaze soon followed his. Before Billy could say or do anything to stop her, Madani was making her way towards you, eyeing you in a way that made you feel like a monster. Like a vampire.
“I know you didn’t want this,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice so Billy couldn’t hear. “I can keep you safe if you want to press charges, if you want to go on record about everything that’s happened here. You don’t have to -”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told her, earning a look of annoyance from Madani.
“I was there, I saw -” 
“You saw Billy and Frank saving my life.”
“If that’s the story you want to stick with, fine, but I can’t protect you anymore after I leave here.”
“I don’t need protection,” you said, your eyes flashing to Billy for a moment, “I’m perfectly safe here, but there is someone who does need your protection.”
“Who?”
“My sister, Irene. Drake found her, he had pictures of her and her kids, he threatened them and I don’t know if anyone else in the Maggia knows about them,” you explained. “I don’t know if they’re going to go after her as revenge for Drake.”
“Okay, I can look into that for you,” Madani told you. “Now, are you sure that this is where you want to stay.”
“Yes.”
All Madani gave in response was a shake of her head and the slightest of shrugs before heading to the elevator. You watched as she left, keeping your eyes on her, even though you could almost feel Billy’s gaze burning into the back of your head. Even when she was gone and the elevator doors were shut behind her, you kept your back to him, still feeling a mess of emotions that you didn’t know how to untangle.
“Hummingbird?” He said softly.
Finally, you took a breath and turned to face him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, “you didn’t have to protect us...”
“Yes I did.”
He didn’t move, though you could tell that the distance was killing him. He was giving you space, he was respecting your wishes. He was reminding you that you always had a choice when you were with him.
Slowly you made your way towards him, watching as he stayed perfectly still, letting you decide how close you wanted to be. You stopped in front of your usual spot on the sofa, letting your gaze shift towards the window, noticing the colour of the sky; sunrise.
“Will you sit and watch the sunrise with me?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the window as you sat.
“Of course,” Billy uttered softly, taking a seat beside you, but still giving you some space.
The view wasn’t as spectacular as sunset, the window was facing the wrong direction to really appreciate it, but it was still something new, something you hadn’t shared with him before. The sky seemed to glow with pinks and oranges that slowly gave way to blues over the New York skyline. It was beautiful.
You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his, but you didn’t dare look away from the window.
“I’m sorry I stole this from you,” he whispered after minutes had passed in silence. “I’m sorry that you’ll never get to experience this for real again.”
It took a few seconds for you to find your voice, for you to decide how you wanted to respond.
“I wouldn’t be experiencing this at all if it wasn’t for you,” you answered, squeezing his hand. “Missing out on sunrises and sunsets isn’t why I didn’t want to be a vampire.” You paused, letting out a sigh, still watching the sky. “My whole life, I just felt like I was existing, that everything I did was to make other people happy. I didn’t want to live forever because I didn’t want to do that forever...”
“And now?” He dared to ask.
“I want to be happy, here with you. I want to stay with you.”
“Why does it sound like there’s a but coming?”
“But I need more than this,” you explained. “I need a life of my own. I need to be able to make my own choices; go out when I want, find a job, do something that’s just for me. I think after everything, I deserve to be able to live on my own terms.”  
His hand found your cheek, urging you to look at him, to see the conflicting emotions on his face.
“I want that for you too, hummingbird,” he told you. “I want you to have the life that you want, a life that makes you happy, even if... even if you don’t want me in it.”
His gaze dropped and your heart ached, untangling your hand from his, you reached for him, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you, just as he’d done to you a moment earlier.
“Of course I want you in my life, Billy,” you told him. “It just can’t be like it has been. If I’m staying here, it needs to be as your equal; no more games, no more arguments, no more pushing me away to protect me. I love you Billy, but I can’t go back to that.”
“I promise,” he told you. “Whatever you need. I’ll do anything just - please give me one more chance. It’ll be different now. I’ll be different.”
You blinked back tears as you closed the distance and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
“I love you,” he whispered as his arms wrapped around you. “Always.” 
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he muttered against your lips, his thumbs tenderly wiping away the tears that had managed to escape you. “For as long as you want me, I’ll love you.”
“I’ll always want you, Billy,” you told him, smiling softly before kissing him again. “I’ll always love you.”
End Note : 😭😭😭 I am going to do an epilogue because this chapter felt a little bittersweet, but at the same time I wanted to end it that way because if felt like an appropriately gothic inspired romance ending. But, I've left a few loose ends so that I can always return to do a second series with Billy and this reader character. Whether you've followed this from the start or only just found it, thank you so much for taking the time to read it, I really enjoyed writing this fic and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
As ever, thank you so much for your support/reading/liking/reblogging/screaming at me in the comments, it's always appreciated! Have a great weekend!!
ALSO as I mentioned in one of my previous posts, I have an omegaverse Bucky Barnes fic in the works, the first chapter will be posted on Sunday. Otherwise, I'm going to post the epilogue to this next Friday then take a week or two off before I start posting my new Stalker!Billy fic.
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.
Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock
@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad
@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17
@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim
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aesterblaster · 3 months
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Sleepin Demons
How Blue Lock characters wake up from nightmares/How you can comfort them [Gender neutral reader]
Tropes: Reverse Comfort, Fluff/Angst, Established Relationship, and general warnings for some gore and mentions of flashbacks along with implied sexual harassment
Characters: Almost All Of Them Lol
Songs: Insecure - Bren Joy // Coffee for Dinner - Orion Sun // Broken Clocks - SZA
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The Silent Type + Actual Memories
It's the same one again. He's right back where he started. Unloved, unknown, left out of everything. The pangs of hunger run through him like a freight train as he desperately runs from room to room in his childhood home...But there's no nourishment. Someone calls his name but all he feels is fear at being recognized, he cowers as a figure rounds the corner and says his name again. "You think you could get away from me? Huh?" It could be anyone, a parent, someone he used to owe money to, an old abusive coach, all he knows is what comes next is going to hurt. "Are you fucking crying? You're so pathetic, soon everyone else will see that just like I always have!" The floor begins to sag and give way, everything creases in on itself. His brain feels like it's going to explode.
When he wakes up- his brain still feels as if it's too big for his skull, pushing against the edges like it's trying to find its way out. But he doesn't groan in pain, and he doesn't move. You're next to him after all, breathing softly. The moonlight grounds him, your hand against his side grounds him, he is safe now. The best thing you can do is stay asleep. He isn't ready to talk and admit that he's weak (or even worse...the fact that it is okay to be weak sometimes), not yet. For now he just snuggles against you and quietly brushes away any residual tears, thanking everything he believes in that he's here with you now.
Kaiser, Hiori, Naruhaya, Noa, Lorenzo
The Silent Type + More Abstract Fears
Slow. Everything was moving so fucking slow around him. His body was falling apart. Every sinew, every cell, every fucking atom of his being was breaking down and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Was this what he was truly destined for, dust to dust? Strangely enough, it didn't hurt, everything was calm. He was dying, so what? Every star burns out. And then, as sharp as a clap of thunder, the pain arrived. In his heart, not his body. Images of friends, family, trophies, all the things he hadn't done yet and you surged through his head. No, he couldn't die, not yet! He gripped his arm, but it was already turning to dust. Irrelevant and forgotten.
He's almost surprised when he wakes up, remembers that that would be impossible. Wants to scoff at himself for being afraid of something that could never happen. But the truth is, he is going to die someday, no matter how big of a star he is. He watches you twitch in your sleep, obviously disturbed by how he jerked awake, and curls his arms around you. He presses his face to the top of your head and breathes you in, silently begging you to drift back into a deeper sleep. He just needs to savor every moment with you and stop worrying, he tells himself.
Snuffy, Nagi, Ego, Aryu, Reo, Kuon, Chris, Jin
Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Reassurance
Why was this happening? You were in his arms, covered in blood, he was covered in blood; It was everywhere. The cheering from the fans turned into screaming, that's when he should've stopped and had the damn sense to look around. Instead, he kept running and dribbling down the field, confused why nobody was stopping him. He didn't see you falling from the stands until you were right in front of him. Your arm twisted first, then your neck, the rest of you followed. Why was this happening? "No, no, no, no...(Y/N). Get help! What the fuck are you all standing around for?!" He took off his jersey and tried to stop the bleeding but it wasn't enough, you were already going cold. He was powerless.
"I said get help-!!" he roared. "Oh..oh fuck." He suddenly wasn't holding your limp body anymore, he was in his- your room. The smell of blood disappeared. He glanced over and made eye contact with you. "Are you okay? You're shaking like a leaf!" "No..can you, can you just come here?" He crushes you in a bear hug as soon as you do. Even when he lets up, he opts to hold your hand instead. He makes you tell him about your day, because he got in late when you were already asleep. He tells you how much he loves you and recounts the day you two met just to stop his heart from bursting. "S-sorry I woke you up, I just- I needed that."
Ness, Niko, Aoshi, Sendo, Gagumaru, Igaguri, Kurona
Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Some Space
The first thing he notices is that he can't breathe. The second thing he notices is that he is in a hospital. "No, I don't think he will ever be able to speak or move again." a voice he doesn't recognize claims. Someone is choking him and he can't stop them. It's himself, rabid, foaming at the mouth. The doppelganger realizes he's been caught and tightens his grip. "That's right, that's what you fucking get for ignoring yourself. You don't even fucking eat enough and you want to be a star, huh? You keep betraying yourself." His neck is lifted from the cold pillow. "And betraying yourself!" It's slammed back down. He wants to tell him to stop, to say anything, but he can't.
He wakes up like he's been jolted back to life by electricity, doesn't even realize he's screaming. "Baby, baby you're okay! It's okay." He feels your hands around him and feels ashamed instead of relieved. What the fuck was that?! "Just go back to sleep, I'll be back." You open your mouth to argue but he shakes his head. "Please." This is nothing you can help him with, he needs to take care of himself and he knows it. Can't keep relying on others to pull him out. He takes a cold shower and comes back to bed hours later, slipping next to you. "I'm sorry I scared you." is all he says as his hands glide over your back. It's best if you just accept his apology, you'll never fully understand the war he's having with himself.
Chigiri, Kenyu, Kunigami, Kira, Sae, Barou
You Wake Him Up + It's Not Okay
Of course he knows this is a fucking dream, how could it not be? The overwhelming lights, the strange woman putting her hands on his chest. He knows exactly what this is about too. The paparazzi have gotten way too comfortable following both you and him around, they keep asking invasive questions and posting up outside of your house. The lack of privacy should be illegal. "You're famous now, you should like this you ungrateful piece of shit." a voice hisses in his ear as another pair of hands massages his shoulders. He tenses and struggles, but more hands appear, grabbing at his clothes. They tear pieces away from him with no remorse and something deep inside of him wishes it could end- Scratch that, every part of him wishes this would end, the violation, the rumors, the-
"Hey! Are you alright? I think..I think that you were having a nightmare." He gasps, so the feeling of hands on his chest were yours. Everything that was tensed relaxes, it was just you. That doesn't stop all his feelings from welling up along with tears. "Can you not touch me right now?" God, he wishes you wouldn't look at him like that. "Are you crying?" "No." He slips out of bed and checks the curtains, he can't shake the feeling of foreign hands on every part of him, not just his chest. Disgust curls and uncurls in his stomach. Why couldn't he just fight back on his own in his own damn head? "There's no one out there-" "How do you know!? Huh?" he demands, a whole lot louder than he meant to. "Fuck wait..I'm sorry. This week has just been a lot." You two end up having a long and needed talk that night.
Lavinho, Reo, Oliver, Rin, Raichi, Tabito
You Wake Him Up + It's Okay
He has been walking in circles for hours. Each loop, though, something changes. At first it was funny, (someone's head would balloon to an impossible size or a sign would read a curse word instead of an actual street name, for example) but now he was just tired. He couldn't sit down though or this burning pain would shoot through him...Just like in the real world, if he ever stopped shining, if he ever stopped moving forward, he'd get this feeling like he wasn't doing enough. Even on vacations there would be a gnawing sense that he was running from his rightful title. All he needed was the spotlight, even if it took so much fucking effort to get there. Practicing the same kicks over and over again, walking in circles, looking for what would excite him next-
"Please stop kicking me..." you groan and he wakes up instantly. Honestly, he didn't realize how terrifying his dream was until he's lucid. "Was I kicking you? Sorry... I just had the weirdest dream, it was like I kept walking in circles and I couldn't stop." "Maybe that's your brain telling you to take a break and stop treating my shin like a soccer ball." You two continue to make light of it and the more he talks about it with you, the more relaxed he gets. He's going to be just fine, especially with you by his side. "Mnh, good night." you finally whisper, cuddling up against him and tangling your leg with his in a final attempt to prevent any future attacks. "Good night." He watches you fall asleep with love in his eyes and wonders how a job obsessed weirdo like him managed to land someone as perfect as you.
Bachira, Loki, Isagi, Shidou, Nanase, Otoya, Zantetsu,
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rayassecretlife · 1 year
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So this is love?
Pairing: Aged up!19 year old Neteyam sully x Fem!omaticaya!reader
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PLEASE READ PART 1, PART 2, AND PART 3 BEFORE READING THIS.
Summary: After the long loving night you shared with Neteyam, it was time to go back home to the clan and tell them the news, but you also had to deal with your father.
Warning(s): Mentions of ab*se, Self h*arm and death, mature language, mentions of pregnancy, mature content, choking
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“Neteyam?” You call as you walk further through the forest, listening to the trees blow in the dangerously silent wind. You had just woken up moments ago but it was still night, forest darker then it had been before you got there which was weird because the forest was anything but dark. “Neteyam!” You yell but receive no answer, calling to your Ikran but she was nowhere to be found.
A tall silhouette came into view making you sigh in relief, walking up to it slowly with one last call to his name. You smiled as he began to turn around, just a few feet away from his body.
“Nete-“ Your once love filled eyes turned into pure fear as the silhouette turned, gripping your neck in their hand as their face started to become clear to your eyes. “D-dad” You couldn’t breath, his hand was too tight against your neck and only got tighter, staring at you with the most hateful look you’d ever seen.
You choked out a cry as you clawed his hand, but he wouldn’t let you go—your breath getting caught in your throat quickly. “Y/N” a voice called faintly but it wasn’t your fathers, your mind not even processing it as you struggled to breath. “Y/N” the voice repeated, your vision starting to get foggy. “Y/N!”
With a blink of an eye you found yourself gasping for air in a whole new area, hand clasping at your chest with every shaky breath. “Y/N, look at me, Sweet girl” you jumped as you felt hands touch the small of your back, still gasping for air as you looked toward the figure. “It’s okay, I’m right here” you looked at your mate mortified, eyes widening at him without you even noticing. “Come here”
He pulled you into him and you soon began to cry, his hand grabbing yours to place against his heart. “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that, Baby”
“I-I-“ he shushes you once more, hand stroking your hair gently as you continued to cry, holding onto him the hardest you ever could. “He almost killed me…”
“It was just a nightmare, Ma’Tìyawn. Nothing will happen to you while I’m here” His words are as true as Eywa herself, his comforting arms only tightening around you. Another day, another nightmare—this was nothing new to either of you. It hurt him horribly to see you so scared, feeling all the emotions you felt in your dream because your queues were still connected. “Don’t cry, beautiful girl. I’ve got you”
You wanted to apologize but you knew what he’d say so you bit your tongue, resting your head against his chest. You sigh as you felt his tail hook your leg, his hands roaming your hair as he kissed the top of your head.
“It felt so real… his hands—god, his hands, Nete” Neteyam didn’t want to hear of it any longer, shushing you once again in hopes you’d leave it alone. He was more worried about what was to come, how you two would soon walk home to the clan mated.
“As long as I’m still breathing, nothing will ever hurt you again, you hear me?” He lifts your face into his hands, eyes sincere with plead and you nod, wiping away your tears. “Let me deal with him when we get back, yeah?”
You remembered… the fact no one knew this had happened—that you had to explain it to them soon, just as you were to walk into high camp. You were nervous but you knew this is what everyone wanted, they wanted you to be Tsahìk. It was so much pressure. You didn’t know how to be Tsahìk, or even act like one—lessons with Neytiri and Mo’at we’re gonna be a long process.
“My love, your nervous” you look beside you and realize where you two had connected, head ducking down slightly once you realized he could feel everything you felt. His hand calmly rested in yours, thumb caressing over your skin. “Do you…have regrets?” He hesitantly asked and you quickly shook your head.
“No, of course not. I’m afraid I won’t be the Tsahìk they want me to be. I’ll fail…” He watches you closely as you reach down to your queues, thumb brushing over the root of them with a sigh. It was a terrifying feeling, falling in love and actually pursuing it. You had no idea how to give him what he needed, how to be the leader he needed you to be.
“I don’t want to worry about that now” His voice interrupts your thoughts and you look up, watching his lips peak into a small smile. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise” Eywa, how beautiful he was. His eyes always seemed to sooth you, always so sincere when he spoke to you. He wanted you to feel comfortable, safe whenever you touched. He would never let anyone lay a finger on you again.
“Can we stay here a little longer? Just… alone?” He smiles and nods his head, laying back onto the grass with his arm open to you which you happily accept. He can feel your nerves relax as soon as you lay your head against his chest. You didn’t want to think about the future either, just wanted to stay with him for as long as you could. His fingers began to stroke through your long hair and you couldn’t help but stare up at him, admiring his features without saying anything.
You swore you could fall back asleep just in his arms. You felt so weightless, like nothing could even get close to you as long as he was with you. You felt safe. “Your so pretty, Nete” The words slip from your mouth but before you could react he lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head.
“It still feels surreal. I’m mated to the most beautiful girl on pandora” You push his face with a laugh, hiding your head in his chest so he wouldn’t see your burning cheeks. You were laughing but he truly was being serious. He waited so long for this moment, spending so many days debating on whether it would come true or not. This was his dream. “Kids gonna be so pretty, I’m gonna have to fight off any boy that tries to fuck with our daughter”
Your laugh slowly dies down and he looks at you slightly worried he had taken it too far, his ears falling back against his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“
“How many do you want?” You ask, fingertips tracing circling over his chest. You could tell he was still on edge, but he knew you meant it. You always wanted kids—always talked about how well you’d treat them because of how you had been treated growing up. You wanted to give them a good life, good parents.
“A lot” He lets out a nervous laugh but your indistinct giggle is enough for him to lighten up, your eyes meeting his with a smile. “Like… four? Five?” Neteyam was always a family man. He wanted to treat his children the same way you did, and had the motive to treat them better then his father treated him and his brother. He needed a big family—it’s where he belonged.
“Boys and girls?” He nods his head instantly. “So if we have five, how many girls do you want?”
“I want three girls and two boys, but I want the oldest to be a boy” You smile, he wants girls. you couldn’t help but look at him in awe—admiring how his eyes lit up when he talked about it. “I don’t want a lot of boys… stresses you out” He notices your eyes on him mid sentence, a small smile appearing on his lips with a laugh. “What?”
You shook your head. “Nothing. Your just so cute, wanting a family with me and all” You snuggle into him, heart full at the sentence you had just said. You and Neteyam… parents? Oh Eywa, it sounded so good. “I used to stay up all night dreaming of this. Just the two of us, you know?” His heart is doing backflips, stomach filling with butterflies at your words.
“Eywa, I’m so in love with you” You smile against his neck, pressing a small kiss against his jaw. You could cry just over your relationship. You’d never felt so safe, so calm in another’s arms. Your mate would admit his love for you in a heartbeat, over and over if you needed him to. “As much as I love being here with you, they have been paging me all night” You notice his pager against his necklace, letting out a small sigh before nodding.
“I’m just nervous… it’ll be okay” you reassure him but before you could get up, he cupped your face, pressing a soft but passionate kiss to your lips. It felt like his way of telling you it would be alright, and that he wouldn’t let anything ruin this day for you both.
“Don’t be nervous, Syulang. The people love you. Plus, we need to move into our own cave now, huh?” A smirk appeared across his lips and you rolled your eyes, pushing him. “All alone, every night… man, we’ll have 5 kids in no time-“
“Neteyam!” You cover his mouth and he only laughs, watching your face turn into a mug. “Not funny”
“Really? Cause with what happened last night…” His hand reaches down between you, pressing onto your stomach with a smile. “We’ve already started”
The two of you made it back to the village about 15 minutes after, Neteyam’s hand locked into yours just waiting for someone to see. You hoped it was Neytiri, knowing how badly she had been rooting for you guys. She would be the easiest.
“Neteyam!” Oh no. The little voice calls to your mate, running up to the two of you with the biggest smile on her face. You knew she’d draw so much attention, and now you were royally fucked.
“Tuk, did you see him-“ Neytiri’s eyes fall on the sight before her, her pupils lighting up with excitement. She made her way to you, pulling you into a tight hug with her hand soothing your back, whispering little reassuring things into your ear. “Great mother… you are mated?”
You nod and she almost shrieks out of excitement, the clan now coming to see what had been happening. Neteyam grabbed your hand and pulled you further, walking to the people who had been coming to you. Only one person stood out.
Mo’at.
“My sweet grandchild, I am never wrong!” She pulls you into a hug and you laugh, wrapping your arms tight around her. “I was hoping that’s where you went, boy. You’ve been ignoring us all night!” He laughs, hugging an arm around her while she still hugged you.
“Does this mean we have a Tsahìk?” Tuk’s little voice asks and the family all looks at each other, Neteyam’s hand squeezing your own. The simple nod of your head makes the clan cheer, and you couldn’t help but smile. You were nervous, but these were your people.
“You can’t keep me in here forever, sully! I’ll find my fucking daughter!” Your head turned at your fathers loud voice, almost jumping from your mates grasp. He placed a hand against the back of your head, squeezing your hand.
“Hey, hey” He soothes, turning your head to face him. “I’m right here, your safe. Your safe now” Neytiri smiles at you two, giving mo’at a slight look. Neytiri taught Neteyam to protect you growing up, but now? Great mother, nothing was getting passed him. “I’m going to deal with it, okay? I’ll be back”
He kisses your head before you could say anything, voice hesitant as you watched your mate walk toward the caves where the yelling came from. You hated that you felt so empty without him next to you, now biting your lip to try and stop your nerves from getting the best of you.
“Come, child” Mo’at grabs your hand and you turn to face her with slightly widening eyes, watching her face soften. “It is okay, he will handle everything” Neytiri’s hand cups the small of your back, giving you a reassuring look. “I will show you to your new cave—that is, if your looking to-“
“Yes. We are” Neytiri smiles, noticing how you’d lightened up when she soothed you. “I will follow you” And you did just that. Mo’at did you a solid giving you one of the more deserted Caves that happened to be bigger then most. Only the best for her grandchildren, right?
You enter the cave and almost instantly fall in love. It was a beautiful cave under the trees, and it had an opening on the back wall which looked out onto the waterfall behind your new home. You imagined it all here, the moment you’d bring home your first child.
“Do you like it?” Mo’at doesn’t miss how your eyes begin to water, her hand rubbing your shoulder with a small smile. “Sweet child, don’t cry” it was bittersweet. You grew up in a broken home with a broken family, The Sully’s being the only thing you ever had—and now, you were soon to become the Tsahìk of your clan and live a normal life with the boy you loved. You couldn’t believe it was real.
“I love it, Mo’at. I—oh, Eywa” You sniffle, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. “Thank you… thank you both so much” you couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful water, remembering you still had to take a bath due to last nights events. Neytiri must’ve known what you were thinking because she almost instantly reassured you.
“We will give you time to get used to your new home. Let us know if you need help grabbing things from your old one, okay?” She combs your hair and you nod, giving her a small smile.
Soon enough, the two mother figures left the cave to go on about their day, most likely planning something much bigger for you and Neteyam later on. The only thing that had been holding Neteyam back from becoming Olo’Eyktan, was the fact he didn’t have a mate. Now that he did, you knew things would move fairly quick.
You let the water take you as you walk into the small waterfall stream, the loud crashes of the water somewhat soothing you in the fact you had been alone. You could still feel Neteyam’s hands against you, and his voice in your ear. You must’ve been losing it. This mate bond was far too strong.
Neteyam on the other hand, but standing right behind you with his eyes flush just taking in your perfect body. He was mesmerized by your looks, your voice, your hair, hell—even the way you smelled. You were so beautiful.
“Need some help with that?” He asks as you try to wet your back, body quickly turning toward the loving accent you were so fond of. Your eyes were big with excitement and he loved every second of it—pulling you into his arms so you’d wrap your legs around his waist. “I was only gone for 30 minutes”
“30 minutes too long, Mr. Sully” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you into a kiss. You felt your queues connect, eyes squeezing shut at the still fairly new feeling. “Did you see the cave? It’s so beautiful, Tey. We have a waterfall and-“
Neteyam watched in awe as you continued to ramble about your new life, only imagining what things are gonna be like from now on, what it would soon be like once you two started a family. He imagined you would be even more beautiful then before, pregnant and carrying his child? After years of feelings hidden away, you two were finally one—and he couldn’t wait to start a family with you.
“I love you, Syulang” He blurts out and you stop talking, looking at him while your cheeks burned with heat. He lifted his head toward you, still holding you up with his hands—pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.
Everytime your lips touched, you’d get lost in yourself. You’d forget where you even were whenever he was with you. You don’t know what came over you, but one hand set on the back of his neck, pulling him closer into the kiss while your other hand roamed his chest.
“My love, Not right now but later” Fuck. He knew you so well. You whine against his lips, tugging his hair gently back, earning a small moan from his lips. “You make it real hard to stay on task, Pretty girl”
Just as you were about to reply, the sudden snap of a twig caught your attention quickly, and your head snapped toward the direction it came from, pulling away from Neteyam’s grasp. Was someone watching you?
“Let her go!” Your mother yells, your now bleeding body fallen onto the dirty under you. Your father continued to beat you, objects cutting you and leaving bruises
“Daddy…” you tried to wipe your tears, you tried to stay strong like your mother had told you, but you couldn’t when your body had been this destroyed. Your were 9, it wasn’t your fault.
It wasn’t your fault
It wasn’t your fault
At this point, he was trying to take in the many cuts and bruises along your back, placing a soothing hand against your body. Your ears stood tall as you searched for what made that noise, up until he engulfed your body against his.
“Can we check it out—what if-“
“It’s not him, baby. He’s locked away. He can’t hurt you” You didn’t believe him. You didn’t believe that your father would leave you alone because you knew he’d find a way. He always finds a way. “My love, you can’t stay this way forever”
His hand softly caressed your stomach under the water and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, letting a small tear roll down your cheeks. That fact only made you cry, the fact he could hurt your child if he got out… it terrified you.
“I’m sorry” He shushes you, turning you towards him and pulling you back into his chest, your head laying in the crook of his neck. You felt like such a burden. You didn’t want neteyam to have to deal with this, you wanted him to be able to love you easily.
But Neteyam didn’t care that you were harder to love. He didn’t care that you woke him up every night because of your nightmares, he didn’t care when you zoned out because of your memories—he loved you. His broken hearted girl, he loved you so much.
You were all he needed, and he wanted every part of you.
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Just a little cute ending to the series that started me off. Excuse the inactivity 🩵
Taglist: @doggyteam2028 @luvagirlsworld @mashiromochi @angelsamor @neytirishottie @lu-the-ghost-reader @jakescumdump @myh3artttt @rinizitos @luz15sstuff @lalamac125 @countryandsweetbabygirl @queenmizuki @sunnysolhaze
Sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged, the tag list is a copy n paste of my other post ://
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mustainegf · 3 months
Note
heyy I just found your page and you're talented as hell! I wanted to send in a little request.
ok so, 80s or RTL era James and reader are best friends, they are having a sleepover,then she wakes sweating profusely because of a nightmare. she tries to sleep again, she tosses and turns on the bed bit thats doesn't work,and finally wakes James. when he notices how afraid she is, he tries comforting her.
This is fucking adorable, lets be honest we all know they have crushes on each other
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𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁸⁴
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I threw the frayed, flimsy sleeping bag on the floor of James's bedroom, directly next to his bed. I didn't mind that the fabric was nearly threadbare and provided little comfort. All that mattered was that I was at James's house.
Though it was equally ancient and lumpy as the sleeping bag, I gratefully accepted James's insistence on lending me an extra pillow. I gave it a tight grip and stared up at him, enjoying the feel of the velvety material on my cheek.
With a cheeky smile on his face, James was lying flat on his bed and staring at me. The little lamp on his bedside table created a soft, yellow glow that warmed the space and gave it a cozy, personal feel.
His guitar rested against the far corner, and his hanging posters of metal bands lined the walls. I could let my guard down and be who I am here and it felt like a second home.
"Do you remember that time Lars tried to balance on one leg and play drums?" James commented, amusement alive in his eyes.
I burst into giggles, burying my face in the pillow. “Oh God, yes... He almost took out the entire drum set.”
James laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made my heart swell. “He’s such a dumbass. I don’t know how he stays upright most of the time, let alone play drums.”
Each story was funnier than the last, and before long, we were both crying with laughter. That kind of chuckle that just makes everything a bit better.
“Hey, you know what’s weird?” James spoke abruptly, his tone now gentler. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.”
I noticed the vulnerable expression on his face as I glanced up at him. "Neither can I," I said. "Recently, life has been so busy. It's I've missed hanging out.
James gave a nod, fixing his gaze on mine. There was a brief but comfortable silence during which we simply exchanged glances and knew everything about the other without any words being spoken.
"I love you being here," he muttered.
I answered, "Always," reaching up to give him a firm squeeze. "I wouldn't be anywhere else, you know that."
He smiled, that lopsided grin that always made my heart miss a beat. As the hours passed, our voices became softer and our words became shorter.
I was really happy as I snuggled onto the extra pillow he'd given me. The fact that I was lying on the floor in a tacky sleeping bag didn't matter. It mattered that James and I were together in this utterly perfect moment. The things that brought beauty to life , was this, James.
With drooping eyelids, I whispered a, "Goodnight, James."
He breathed back, "Goodnight," his voice low with drowsiness.
And then, with the comfort of the man beside me, I allowed myself drift off.
I startled awake, breathing urgently and shallowly as my heart hammered in my chest. Sweat was pouring down my face and the flimsy sleeping bag was sticking to my skin.
The nightmare that had pulled me from sleep had left my mind a disorganized mix of visuals, but they were beginning to fade into the shadows, leaving me with nothing but an uneasy sense of dread.
I sat up and attempted to calm my breathing while sliding a shaking hand through my hair. The only sound in the pitch black, silent room was James's even, gentle breathing from his bed.
I looked across at him and felt an ocean of relief when I noticed how unbothered he was. The last thing I wanted was to wake him up, especially being the one crashing at his place.
I took a deep breath, pulled my knees up to my chest, and tried to push the nightmare's last fragments away. The hard, cold floor felt even more unforgiving at this point. I lay back down, clutching James' lumpy pillow to my chest, inhaling his scent.
I forced myself to go back to sleep and closed my eyes. I rolled around on the hard floor, attempting to find any spot that was comfortable. I felt as though the cold seeped through the sleeping bag, causing me to be cooled to the bone. The bag provided very little to cushion me.
I let the pattern of James's steady breathing relax me as I concentrated on it. Slow and steady, in and out. My breath matched his. But sleep eluded me no matter how hard I tried.
All I want in this moment is James. My James.
After a while I quit  trying to make it work and just laid there, gazing upwards.
I finally reached my breaking point. I needed to feel safe, to feel warmth, to feel… James. I staggered upright, making the room to spin a little as I moved. I trembled as I knelt over his bed and gave him a little shoulder shake without thinking twice.
Whispering, "James," my voice wavered. "James, wake up."
He slolwly stirred awake, peering at me in the half light as he opened his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked his voice sluggish from sleep but immediately worried. "Are you okay?"
My eyes filled with tears, and I shook my head, incapable to think of anything to say. Rather, I naturally moved my body to rest next to him. I needed his warmth and comfort, I needed to be near him. I tugged him closer, pressing my face against his chest and gripping his shirt tightly.
James didn't hesitate for a second. He wrapped me with his arms, pressing me close to his body. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he said in a comforting whisper. "I'm here. You're safe."
I felt his hand gently stroking my back, his touch sending a wave of calm through me. I pressed my face into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, and felt the tension begin to drain from my body. His heart beat steadily beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm that grounded me.
We had never had such an intimacy or closeness before. However, it felt perfect, like something we've both always needed. It seemed like exactly what We needed.
I felt him shift a little, repositioning himself to comfortably grasp me. He reached for my hair with his other hand and used his fingers to gently untangle knots that werent there.
I expected cuddling with James to be awkward, wrong, weird. But now that I was in his arms, his heartbeat in my ear, there was no place I'd rather be.
With his breath warm against my forehead, he whispered softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Still unable to find my voice, I shook my head once again. I was stuck thinking, maybe I loved James a little more than just a friend.
He answered softly, "Okay," without pressuring me further. "Just know I'm here, alright? I'm not going anywhere."
I nodded, feeling the last traces of fear finally disappear. His body, his touch, and his words were all I needed to feel okay again.
James placed a delicate kiss on the top of my head. "Sleep, you need it," he said softly, making my heart ache.
And as I nodded off in his arms, I realized that I would always have this James to come back to, nightmares or not.
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kyupidos · 1 year
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hii, can I request something like "that faint voice of yours" with leona, azul, vil and idia please
10/11/23’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland
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that faint voice of yours 2 )ヽ( ・∀・)ノ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ,ヽ( ・∀・)ノ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ ;; summary. ‘it’s difficult to escape an overblot fully unscatched; the overblotters know that well.’
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part one. ft. r. rosehearts , j. viper
characters. savanaclaw , octavinelle , pomefiore : leona kingscholar , azul ashengrotto , vil schoenheit ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🖇️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader may or may not be yuu ( up to the reader ), reader has injuries that vary depending on the character, little description of how reader got the injury, sprinkled mentions of death, romantic fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort
📨 _a/n. basically everything i’m working on/will work on is a part 2!! halp!! sorry for getting this out a bit late, accidentally deleted like half of leona’s part when i was nearly done, forgot everything i wrote, and raged for an entire day.. which is why leona’s part might be wonky, because it’s just a cheap copy.. crying face.. also, i unfortunately cannot write for idia for this piece specifically since i haven’t beat book 6.. he’ll be in part 3 with malleus when i finally do. anyways as said before, best to listen to still with you by jungkook for the vibes
l. kingscholar
— at times like these, leona felt incredibly pleasant at the idea of being with you—not like he never was. specifically, when you chose to spend your time with him as he was falling asleep to take one of his usual naps, for he was so sure it would bring him some just as pleasant dreams. definitely, he would never admit that fact, and one hundred percent surely never admit the accommodating fact that he knows this because his mood always significantly lifts whenever he’s around you awake or not. but still, it’s a truth known to likely nobody in the world but the two of you. so, he lets the warm and domestic atmosphere get the best of him, like he always does, and leans beside you to get some sleep in, again, like he always does.
— something that does not often happen, however, was the way that as he did, you took in a sharp deep breath that clearly you put some effort into concealing by acting as if you were doing some sort of breathing exercise before falling asleep yourself—but as a beast man, a lion at that, leona knew better. it was then it became apparent to him why you did what he did, as he noticed where exactly leaned against you. on your side, was a particularly dry area of skin. obviously, since it came from his ultimate magic; something that could even squeeze people dry. it wasn’t useful in the savana where droughts were a nightmare, and it certainly wasn’t any good when used on people. not like he ever wanted to. it just happened; when he overblotted.
— he remembers it well. it’s not something he denies outright, just something he prefers to keep in the back of his head. he thinks about it more often than he would like, though. and it’s annoying him, now, because it’s getting in the way of his sleep and his pleasant time with you; the idea that he wouldn’t even have this pleasant time with you if he’d gone just a bit too far. of course he knows it’s stupid, to think about things like this when it’s already gone a course that didn’t end badly. still, he thinks about it sometimes. especially since the injury obviously still pains you to this day, evident by the breath you took some moments ago.
— such thoughts are distracted, however, as he feels a hand brush through his hair. he recognizes the feel of that hand, of course, it’s your own; he wouldn’t let any other person do that. he feels the way you delicately undo any knots in his hair, and brush his hair as you please. he’s almost embarrassed, as he’s sure you’re wondering why he hasn’t dozed off by now. he always did, whenever you did something like that; or when you’d hum something, or speak anything, really— he found your voice soothing. it was another secret between the two of you. so he dozes off, not because he doesn’t care, but because he knows you accept him.
— it irks him in a way, to think so deeply of the matter when he knows that you’re here with him in the current, so he sleeps. as mentioned before, you understood him; in the sense that you didn’t feel the need to understand him at all. he thanks you for that plentifully. the house warden still remembers the way you forgave him, under the rationale that you not understanding him was the exact reason you did forgive him. he had his own reasons that he didn’t necessarily need to let the whole world be aware of. the way that when you forgave him, you didn’t need an explanation because you didn’t want to force him. he finally rests at this point, and he feels the way you brush through his hair anyway. he thanks you for that, and the way you accept him.
a. ashengrotto
— today was one of those days in which azul could be thankful he had a day off, and that he was not busied with making madol. after all, free time like this meant more time spent with you, and as the selfish octomer he was, he lavished at even just the idea of that. sitting in an emptier version of the mostro lounge, your respective meals consisting of whatever didn’t manage to sell out completely the day prior. usually something of the like was a shameful thing to him, that he couldn’t collect as much madol as he would’ve liked to. but with you in the equations he finds himself just fine with it; it’s just another thing he can treat you to.
— however, as he slowly becomes increasingly aware of your more careful than normal little unconscious behaviors in the way you carried yourself, even in the way you held onto the utensils you used to eat, behaviors that contrasted the brave and boisterous behavior you possessed when he first met you, he slowly recollected his memory of the reason why. it almost ( no, definitely ) makes him feel like he’s been doused in a feeling of shame. it’s still etched into his mind when he regained consciousness after his overblot, your bruised and battered body that you’d tried to hide even then. in fact, this actually wasn’t exactly his own fault—more so indirectly, yet he blames himself all the same for the panic of the running crowds that bumped into you with no regards for anyone’s safety when he began stealing people’s ultimate magic, like a mad man.
— if he recalled correctly, you’d in fact tried to bandage yourself and go about the process all on your own; like the reckless person you are. although, you did almost manage to get away with it, had it not been for the obvious physical pain you were in when floyd went in for a squeeze some couple days after the events had died down, leading you to awkwardly explain what had happened—and while floyd went off to purposefully squeeze to death some safety disregarding crowds, azul was left alone with you, apologizing over and over for his actions. by the end of it, you ended up scolding him over the fact that he couldn’t get it in his head that you didn’t think of him to be the one at fault. he thinks about that sometimes too, and he laughs at the hilarity of it all.
— azul blinks, and all of a sudden he realizes that you’re staring at him. it’s then, he realizes why, as you huff in curiosity, and ask him “is there.. something funny about the fried chicken you’ve got there?” he looks down at his plate for a moment, and becomes embarrassed at the fact that in as his thinking took over for a moment, his plate was still full in all his distraction. no wonder his stomach was rumbling, if he’d only eaten three or four bites. he coughed into his hand in his flustered state, “no, no, i was just thinking about something. don’t worry about me, angelfish…” he finally keeps eating, thankfully for him the food’s yet to go cold, to prove his point, and he has half a mind to audibly sigh a breath of relief when he sees you shake your head amusedly as if to say, ‘what am i going to do with you, azul ashengrotto?’
— though again, he notices, the way you’re careful when you do. before, you would shake your head far more dramatized and sigh as if you’d finally dropped off a weight off your shoulders that was equivalent to that of the world. now, though, you take time to make sure you don’t feel half as much of the pain you did beforehand. as he finishes his fried chicken and you finish your own meal, and he now walks you out of octavinelle to make sure you get to your dorm safely, he gleams at the fact that you were kind enough to forgive him— he loves you dearly, after all, and he speaks with genuinity. after all, you are his angelfish, and that is a role nobody but you can play.
v. schoenheit
— sometimes, when he notices you’re both free and you’re up for it, vil invites you into his dorm room for your opinions on his acting skills. of course he believes himself nothing short of perfection, but he needs an outside view to make sure this is the case. perhaps he might need a brushing up on, or extra insight on how to play a role properly. so in such an instance, why not ask for your assistance, since he views you so highly as well? vil is without a doubt you’ll be able to bring something to the table, you haven’t failed him in doing so yet, after all.
— you were nothing short of an amazing commentator, as expected. his eyes soften, though, after all, an actor is expected to see little tiny details in a person’s actions and behavior to understand the character and play their part beautifully to make it big, as he notices the way that surely, the way you’re short of breath and at times need to take a moment to cough into your arm isn’t meant to be a way to express the compliments people usually spout him with, all to say that he ‘took their breath away’. you had your own reasons, but he supposed he could say he was responsible for the taking of your breath as well—though not in a way anyone would like, or in a way he wished to.
— as pomefiore house warden, he was well renowned for his poisons. that much became very clear during vdc, as much as he thinks disdainfully of the way the event turned out for him. how could he not, when not only did he lose, but he overblotted then. it’s something he’s learned to accept, but he still thinks of it as a stain on everything he’s worked for. but particularly about his overblot, what he thinks about constantly, was how terribly it’d affected you. inhaling poison did a number on you, and he thanked the sevens over and over at the fact that you woke up that evening in the hospital. you weren’t exposed too terribly, thankfully, but that didn’t mean you were gone or all effects it had on you.
— how embarrassing, he thinks constantly. by the end of it, he played into the role of the villain anyway, poisoning the one he held dear. it was a sorrowful thought, and he admits even in such sorrow that for even just a split second, he almost felt a form of disgust at the way you forgave him so easily. perhaps though, it wasn’t directed at you, but himself. how could you possibly forgive him, after all, for the way he treated you then, and even during the days leading up to such a tragic incident whether you or he was the main focus of it all? he won’t deny, you confuse him to no end; an enigma, you are. although, he won’t put on a show to act as if though he didn’t like that part of you— it was a nice change of pace.
— the sound of applause suddenly rang in his ears, but not that of thousands of people in an audience watching his performance live; instead it is the applause of one. vil allows himself to refocus his vision, taking a break from his daydreams as he comes to be attuned to your clapping. on stage, he learned to force his inner thoughts to the back of his head, as to lessen the mistakes he might make when performing. thus, he concludes, he must’ve continued on practice acting with you as commentary, though his recognition of whatever words you might’ve spoken until that point was faint. “that was amazing vil!” you’d stopped clapping at that point, “you really put a lot of emotion into that one, i could tell.” vil stopped for a moment, humming to let you know he was processing your words, before his eyes softened one final time, a warm expression on his face. “nothing short of perfection, of course. shall i put on a play again, just in case?” and at your nod of excitement, he coughs into his hand and begins reciting his memorized lines.
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azaleaniath · 2 years
Note
👯‍♀️time to pull the infinite request card (i promise to not abuse it)
“I don't like you and I don't want to like you.” arranged marriage-ish prompt if you don't mind
Give me angst with Neteyam or Ao'nung idk i want to cry tonight as usual 😨😨🥶 up to you if you want it to end happy or not 😚 Please and thank you 🙏💙💙💙💙
alright babes, time to get your therapist on the phone. It's only 900 words but these 900 words will, guaranteed, make you sob.
~ NETEYAM X FEM!OMATICAYA! READER ~
Nothing can bind us
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includes: arranged marriage, lots and lots of tears, angst, rejection
SFW
900 words
____________________
"Ma 'Teyam!" you called your mate when you saw him, a big smile decorated your face as you spotted him through the woods. But it seemed as if he hadn't heard you at all.
You followed him with quick steps while he walked away faster.
The sound of your voice only stressed him out already.
"Wait, please!"
"Lo'ak is waiting for me, i need to go."
Lately, he rarely found time for you. Maybe he was just stressed from his clan leader tasks and duties, you thought to yourself.
He called his ikran while he pathed away with quickening steps.
Still following him, you picked up the pace as well.
"I need to talk to you darling, i have wonderful news for you!"
You tried to reach out for his hand but as soon as the two of you touched, he jerked away quickly.
His reaction made your stomach turn, yet you didn't think that much about it. Maybe he just wasn't successful during his hunt in the morning and it had frustrated him?
"(Y/N), not now. I'm not in the mood to talk now."
The fact that he called you by your name worried you. When was the last time he did that? You couldn't even remember.
"But I need to talk to you now."
The feeling in your stomach only got worse at his annoyed growl before he muttered "yeah, we actually do need to talk."
His ikran shortly arrived, landing close by. He rushed to his companion reaching out for his queue.
He did not look at you and yet you could tell exactly that his face was laced in distress.
"What's wrong, love? Ma 'Teyam, talk-"
As you reached out to his shoulder he pulled away abruptly, his face twisted as if he was disgusted by your touch.
"Don't call me that."
You inhaled sharply, feeling the world around you break apart. The air seemed too thick to breathe for the moment. Your eyes began to burn as you just stood there, staring at him in solace.
You held a hand to your stomach, the other one to your throat that felt as if a rope was tightening around it more and more. His ikran roared as Neteyam connected his queue to it, getting ready to mount it.
"What?"
His ears twitched at the sound of your cracked, whispering voice.
"I can't do this anymore."
You did not understand. What was he saying?
"Ma 'Teyam, what's-"
"I just told you to stop that!"
Every muscle of your body tensed even more at his harsh voice which brought you closer to your tears.
"But I love you, we-"
"I can't do this anymore, don't you listen to me?!"
He finally looked at you, now that you wished he wouldn't. His eyes seemed to loveless, furious almost.
You swallowed at his words, not knowing what to say or do. The look he gave you tore your heart apart.
"I've tried everything to love you! I tried to fall in love with you, tried to be happy with the decision our parents made for us, but I can't! I don't feel anything when I look at you!"
There it was. The words you hoped you'd never hear, words that only appeared in your nightmares.
But now that he started, everything spilled out of him like a drop of water that turned into a riptide in seconds.
"I liked you like a friend at most. But I can't bring myself to mate with you! Just thinking about spending my life with you, it doesn't sit right with me one bit! I don't want a future with you and I never wanted a future with you! I am so sick of your face, I wish I would have spoken up sooner about this stupid arrangement!"
By now, your eyes weren't just wet. The tears that rolled down your cheeks rolled uncontrollably, they did not cease to fall.
You couldn't do anything but just stand there and cry, shivering.
Neteyam mounted his ikran, the look in his eyes did not change one bit even as he saw how you felt your world crumble and turn into dust, instantly blown away from the wind.
"The best news you could have for me is that you found someone else. This... situation, between us, it doesn't work and I don't want it to work. I can't hide it any longer. Nothing can bind me to you, not even my parents."
"Nothing?" you breathed out amlost silently, tasting the salty tears on your lips.
"Nothing. I'll talk to your parents and apologize to them for having to reject you, but-"
"You can't do that." you huffed under your tears, clenching your arms tighter around your stomach. It felt like you had to throw up from his rant alone.
Now that he had finally spit it out, his eyes seemed even more loveless, almost as if he was disgusted my the mere sight of you. He didn't have to pretend anything anymore, and it relieved him.
"And why is that?"
You couldn't even tell what exactly you looked at. While only staring into the air blankly, you quietly mouthed the words, that appeared in his nightmares as well.
"I'm pregnant, Neteyam."
________________________
taglist: @luvlykrispy
@zatarias-pandora
@vviolaswrld
@yeosxxx
@lilgurlbeoncrack
@philiasoul
@ch0nky-child
@itszzmoon
@simp4ff
@itsnotme02
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lieutenant-teach · 5 months
Text
Cody and Din stop on Tatooine. Din meets someone unexpected from Cody’s past, which leads to a sweet reunion. Part 3\3 (part 1), (part 2).
 ‘Blast ‘em!’
Cody woke up with a barely concealed cry on his lips. Din was snoring quietly in the co-pilot seat, luckily not disturbed, wrapped into a patchwork blanket gifted by a kind old Rodian lady during their latest stop on Jakku. ‘Good, - Cody thought, shifting to warm up sleepy right arm, - our nightmares take turns’.
Not for the first time he would wake up like that. Sometimes there would be him murdering innocent citizens, sometimes blank eyes of his surviving brothers serving the Empire with him, and sometimes his former General. There were different dreams, where Cody could see again him smiling, meditating, reflecting blaster bolts of the Separatist opponents, lifting laughing troopers in the air on the Negotiator, talking to Cody both about war or mundane issues and in general trusting him.
What did Cody do to repay all of it? All this kindness, friendship, love they all got?
‘It wasn’t my choice, - at such moments Cody was telling himself over and over again. – The chip in my brain took away my conscience, I wasn’t able to do anything against it’. But this mantra didn’t help at all. It didn’t change the fact. Yes, the Empire was the culprit behind all of it, but Cody’s hands were red with the General’s blood. And he would never wash it off. Least he could do was not to allow anyone else take his mind away.
He was an idiot back on Utapau letting himself believe that everything would be over soon. Believing that in some hours they would be free of war, blood and destruction. Letting himself hope, openly flirting with his General – something he usually tried to tone down, being professional, even though General Kenobi was quite open to reciprocating their bantering with twinkling in his eyes. At that day he didn’t even try to hide his feeling. And he would remember forever how the General’s eyes were full of promise.
Now he thought that even if everything would have turned out well, it was barely possible for them to start anything. Not because of a wide-accepted civilian misconception of ‘attachments are not allowed within the Jedi Order’ – after all, not everyone were being idiots like Skywalker – but he realized the Senate never entertained even a mere idea of giving personhood to the clone troopers. They’d be sent back to Kamino, or used in other spheres as free workers – but with no Jedi by their side to encourage them, to actually see them as people. The Senate wouldn’t’ve allowed that. After all, there wasn’t any big difference between the Jedi and the clone troopers situations – both made to do something without being asked if they actually wanted to, with absolute disregard to their feelings, opinions, morals.
But Cody would’ve preferred this to killing his General. His friend. His love.
---
Being a smuggler wasn’t that bad. They needed money while looking for a rebel cell, and, as much as the business went against Cody’s morals – well, it could’ve been worse. He chose small cargoes for small people, always checking for illegality, for example, he had to turn down several spice offers. He didn’t work for long distances for stealth measures. So far, they got enough credits to go by.
Din insisted he was big enough and armed enough to go with Cody to the rendezvous point. He watched excitedly as weighing pros and cons were changing on his guardian’s face, though Din didn’t see any problem – they’d been to wretched places before. After almost a year of such meandering across the Galaxy Din thought he wouldn’t be surprised or scared by anything. Except the Empire. He still couldn’t help tensing in fear seeing humanoids in white clothes, and he found it hard to imagine what he would do if met a real stormtrooper. He also knew that Cody used to be an Imp, but he had had a chip in his head that made him do it, and before the Empire he was a good guy, a hero. Even if Cody himself never said anything like the latter, Din decided so – from his tales and stories he shared with him about his past. He told him about adventures, his brothers, the Jedi he was in love with. Din saw that sometimes these memories made Cody very-very sad, but Cody would say ‘Somebody has to pass the truth about those times’. At night, when not dreaming about his home and parents, he dreamed about himself barging into the Imperial Palace, with the Darksaber and a blaster, in shining armour, and defeating evil guys who inflicted so much pain on those he loved – both back on Aq Vetina and now on Cody.
Alas, Cody decided it was too dangerous for Din to go – ‘too much villainy around there’. Sometimes adults were really weird, Din sulked, sitting in the pilot’s cabin and picking at a toy Cody bought him some time after their meeting. It looked like an oversize deformed frog with huge ears – Cody said it reminded him of ‘General Yoda’. Din considered himself old enough not to need toys, but he couldn’t take his eyes off it, and Cody’s gesture he appreciated nonetheless, and holding the toy relieved some stress.
Suddenly he heard some sounds – growling? He peeked out of the window, and saw a man not far away from their ship trying to fight off several womprats. The beasts were snarling, circling their pray, snapping salivating jaws and biting the hem of his robe. Without a second thought Din ran to the trap taking out his blaster. One shot in the air was enough for animals to hunch and run away whining, leaving the man with tears in his already tattered robe.
– Are you all right? – Din came closer. The man smiled warmly seizing examining his losses:
– I am, thanks to you, young man. Are you alone here? – his voice bled with concern, as if he wasn’t being attacked by huge aggressive carnivores some moments before. – It is quite dangerous.
– No, I’m with… my father, - Din didn’t put away his blaster, though somehow he knew the man wouldn’t harm him. – He’s busy, but he’ll come soon, - added he hastily.
– Shall I offer you my company until he arrives? Of course, I see you’re very capable yourself, - he nodded at the weapon Din was clutching in his fingers, - but my conscience doesn’t allow me to leave a child unprotected here, - at that Din couldn’t keep from snorting, and the man smiled tiredly again, hugging himself into his robe as if freezing. – Sorry for imposing myself, - he looked lost. – Ben, Ben Kenobi.
Din immediately perked up at a familiar name. Kenobi? Wasn’t he Cody’s Jedi general back in the war? Was this man a relative of his? Now, when Din actually payed attention, he did look a lot like Cody’s descriptions of his beloved.
– Din, - he tucked the blaster into his belt, returned to the ship and sat on the ramp, wordlessly inviting Ben do the same. – I heard about a General Kenobi. Are you related?
Ben tensed, then slowly came to the ramp and sat near Din. Then he sighed:
– Kind of, yes. Don’t know much about him, though. Where did you hear about him? Didn’t he turn out to be a traitor? – Ben’s eyes were kind, but to Din’s mind, his voice sounded like he was gnawing stones. As if every word gave him physical pain. If he was trying to hide his distress, he failed grossly at it.
– Well, I just heard he was kinda cool back then, - Din started drawing indecipherable scrabbles in the sand with the toe of his boot. – My father served, - he looked at Ben through eyelashes. – He said Kenobi was killed by his troopers.
Ben swallowed hard and blinked, staring in the distance. That all was too weird. Din started suspecting, and the suspicion grew into conviction with every moment observing the man.
– Then I guess he wasn’t that ‘cool’, as you say, - Ben answered in some time with a watery chuckle. – Sorry for my spoiling your mood, young Din.
– Well, there’re not so many reasons to be happy now, - Din grumbled. – And I don’t think the Jedi were so bad. I mean, my father always says nice things about them, - Din felt like a genius intelligence agent fishing for information to confirm his clues about unsuspecting Ben.
– It’s risky to say anything nice about the Jedi, - Ben said, looking cautiously at Din. Was he suspecting Din would call the stormtroopers any moment? At this thought Din winced. And then noticed a familiar figure approaching them.
– Wait, I want to introduce you to my father, - Din’s heart jumped excitedly as he leaped on his feet and ran off to Cody who already had his hand on his hip – where he hid his blaster. In another hand he was clutching a bundle.
– Din, who’s this? – he caught Din just at the moment when in his hurry he tripped over his feet and almost collided into the man. Din grinned:
– I bet you’ll like him, - his heart was pounding with excitement when he grabbed Cody’s hand from his blaster and dragged him to the ship.
Ben stood up with his hands tucked into his sleeves, looking as he was going to flee at any moment. But he inclined his head politely at seeing an adult:
– I apologize for thrusting myself into your lives, but I just could not leave a child lone in the desert to the dangers.
‘They didn’t recognize each other? Aren’t Ben… not him?’ – Din’s heart fell with bitter disappointment. He felt guilty for rising Cody’s hopes… though he didn’t even say anything particular about his new acquaintance…
– General? – the immense disbelief in Cody’s voice made Din step aside and raise his head – Cody pulled up the hood looking as if he didn’t trust his own eyes. Din look at Ben and, to his joy, the man was rigid, almost slack-jawed, wide-eyed.
– Cody? – Ben croaked at last, not taking his eyes off Din’s ‘father’. Then he made a hesitant step forward, and Din barely blinked when Cody dropped his bundle, practically ran to Ben, and they both wrapped their arms around each other, Ben… no, Obi-Wan sobbing quietly into Cody’s shoulder.
Din kept silent, not interfering, thinking that at least some justice was done. A little bit of fixing the Galaxy and a little bit more of happiness. 
---
The brush dipped into the can. Cody was watching as golden-orange paint was drying in heat of the Tatooine suns.
– I bet you’ll like him, - Din was uncharacteristically chirpy and animated, tugging him to the ship and particularly to a man who stood up at seeing them. Cody had no idea who he was – up to the moment they came closer, he saw a familiar face and heard a familiar Coruscanti accent. His first thought was ‘I’m delusional’. It was all too impossible. Not in this karking rotten Galaxy. He felt numb taking off his hood.
– General? – It was too good to be true.
– Cody?
He didn’t remember himself running, only being afraid to fully believe. He came around holding his former General in his arms, feeling his living warmth pressing into him, hearing incoherent teary mumbling into his shoulder, with mist in his own eyes and a lump in his throat.
– I’m so glad to see you again, - the General moved a little to meet Cody’s eyes, their faces mere inches away. He looked as if the weight of the whole Galaxy was on his shoulders and grief was his constant friend. Cody would never blame him for feeling so – he shared it. But there was joy, and that warmed Cody’s heart enough for hope starting to bloom tentatively. Maybe, they weren’t lost after all.
Cody raised the brush and applied a little bit more paint on the middle stripe again to colour gray lines showing through brightness.
– I’m so sorry, - Cody’s knees grazed against the floor, the guilt crushing him down. – We all had chips in our brains… we couldn’t fight them… - the excuse was so flimsy-thin Cody even felt awkward. No reasoning would change what’d been done by all of his brothers and himself. He felt his throat squeezing, he stubbornly kept his eyes on the small patch of dirt – looked like long-spilled tea – on the floor.
– I’m so sorry we couldn’t help you, - why was the General apologizing? It wasn’t him who betrayed the troopers’ trust and killed them all. Cody saw the Jedi falling on his knees next to him, then a gentle touch on his face. He raised his head obediently, meeting the eyes filled with undeserved kindness. – I forgave you long before you came here, before I knew you didn’t do this on purpose, - he whispered, cupping Cody’s face. – I couldn’t understand what we did to wrong you, but you are here now.
– I started questioning… - Cody shut his eyes, feeling heat and wetness gathering there again, - I tried to save Boil… Got mine taken out here… - he felt like he was falling apart there, kneeling on the floor of the small cabin in the desert, in front of the man he deemed killed by his men on his order. And then he found himself in a warm embrace, his former General rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades.
– You overcame the conditioning. You are so strong. I am proud of you, - Cody sensed a sad smile in his voice and dared to hug him in return, being rewarded with a small sigh which seemed as a good sign. – I’m really happy you’re here. By the way, do not call me ‘General’ – we’re friends. I’m not your General anymore anyway. Just ‘Obi-Wan’ will do. Or ‘Ben’.
– All right, Obi-Wan, - Cody murmured into so cozy shoulder, tasting the name aloud for the first time. It sounded as it belonged on his tongue.
Cody raised his head letting warm morning breeze caress his face. It was early enough not to be boiling, but the premonition of heat was already in the air.
– I don’t feel like a Jedi anymore, - Cody would never believe such words if it wasn’t Obi-Wan himself saying them, looking absolutely devastated. – I failed everyone. The Order, the Republic, my apprentice…
– Your apprentice did it to himself, - Cody didn’t manage to conceal his acerbic voice. – He’s too happy now oppressing the worlds.
He caught the dumbfounded expression on Obi-Wan’s face. ‘Force, he didn’t know’, - Cody regretted being harsh and took his hand:
– Anakin is alive. He’s Darth Vader now.
Cody blew on the paint – in one place it refused to dry, remaining sticky.
– You’ll be fine on Alderaan, Din, - crouching Cody laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. – Living with two desert hermits is not a life for a kid. Senator Organa personally found a family who are happy to adopt you.
– I know it must be done, - Din nodded solemnly, and Cody marveled at his attitude – too adult for a child. It hurt to let go, but he believed Din would find his way. Din threw his arms around Cody’s neck, and Cody hugged him back. – I’ll see you again. I promise.
Cody took a sponge and cleaned up some speck of dust on the white surface, careful not to smudge the paint.
– So your former apprentice tried to burn you alive, - Cody gently cleaned the nasty scorch on Obi-Wan’s shoulder from the sticking remains of cloth. – I’m sorry. But after him murdering kids I’m not surprised at all, just glad you got away.
– I’ll be fine, darling, - something in his voice changed, but Cody couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. – I saw Qui-Gon.
– You mean, your Master? Isn’t he…
– The Force ghost, - a heavy sign. – As much as it hurts to know, Anakin did it to himself, he admitted as much. You were right all along, though for wrong reasons, - Obi-Wan gave a weak chuckle. – You just never liked him very much.
– You’ve always been a better General than him, - Cody briefly pressed his lips to Obi-Wan’s cheek making him smile.
Cody raised his head – Obi-Wan was returning with a bucket of water. Putting it in the house, he settled himself next to Cody, pressing their shoulders and staring into the wavy-line dunes on horizon line, catching moments before going to work. Cody touched the paint and was satisfied with the result – golden shining colour was a tangible reminder of his brothers, of everything good he’d had and still was having.
Somewhere the Darksaber was still waiting. Waiting for the rise of Mand’Alor the Sunbringer.
A year or two after these events Din is stolen from his family, and Cody’s asked to help find him. Din is adopted by a New Mandalorian refugees family on Alderaan, so he’s kidnapped for some political leverage – his adoptive family are relatives of Clan Kryze. Cody, Rex and Wolffe are sent to retrieve Din, eventually they find him, in the process they become entangled with Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls. Cody is given the title of Mand’Alor, so he decides to rise MandoClone rebellion making both factions work together. Mandalore is freed, de-chipped clones are settling there, too. Here I want to specify that they’re not Mandos, they have their own culture which is more of a combination of their own ideas traditions, Jedi ideas and something else from different worlds they liked. Cody is named as Kote the Sunbringer, though he doesn’t like it very much.
Din’s adoptive parents give him up as they see it too dangerous to keep him, so Cody adopts him as his own. Din perceives Cody as his own example and ideal to live by, often arguing ‘that’s what a Mandalorian should be like’.
Tatooine becomes a focus of Imperial attention as Vader doesn’t give up the idea of finding Obi-Wan again. So Obi-Wan takes Owen, Beru and Luke and moves to Mandalore. Din becomes quite protective of little Luke, later they become friends, even later – boyfriends. They all work with the Rebellion, Obi-Wan training Luke and trying to commemorate all the knowledge he has about the Order, Cody becomes one of main Rebellion leaders (though no one knows who he is in real life).
In 0BBY Din works alongside Luke and his gang. They defeat the Empire (I’d be as gracious as keeping Vader alive). Luke rises the Order again, with the knowledge he gets from Obi-Wan and Anakin (possibly Ahsoka and the other survivors). Leia leads the New Republic. Din takes up the mantle of the Mand’Alor, so Cody can spend more time with his beloved. And yes, aging code was in the chips, so when they’re destroyed or malfunctioning, aging stops, so the clones lives long happy lives, too.
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hamiltonfilms · 2 years
Text
I dress for revenge 💋 star in nyc
INSTAGRAM AU/STORY
pairing : Arthur Leclerc x Verstappen!reader
summary : because of arthur your heart is broken you think he doesn't care about you
warning: kinda smut, adult language, protective older brother max, alcohol, Arthur is a dick, crying, mention of cheating, some dialogue from euphoria because it fit here, Horner
a/n: so I decided to write a continuation so keep reading and I hope you like it, if you want to be tagged let me know, remember that these events and characters were invented and did not exist like Dennis' cheating girlfriend <3 Also remember that English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes and sorry for mistakes but dutch is partly from the translator and partly by me hahah
part 1 / part 2
Sunday 19:01
"fuck" were the only words I said when I saw what time it was. Dennis was already waiting at the door, knocking.
"Just a minute because I'm not ready" I let him in while giving him a hug. "It's okay and one more thing you look gorgeous"
All I did was smile and went on to get ready, even though I p3, it still needs to be celebrate. I knew my brother and his bunch of idiot friends would be there too, which wasn't a very happy thing for me. My mood sucked I didn't really want to go to that club but even less did I want to feel my heart breaking In fact I don't want to feel anything so I stick to it to get drunk and feel like any girl my age. Now I only have one little case or more missions in my little black dress that's too tight, today I don't care about Arthur, only me that counts.
"Everything's fine suddenly you somehow thought?" it was even sweet. My friendship with Dennis was strange and misunderstood to some people at first everyone thought we were a couple but it never was, even though I admit that at the beginning of karting I had a crush on him.
"Yeah it's ok, will you help me with the necklace" He just smiled and got out of bed and helped me. He hugged me and I felt better again "you look really good like a bitch who will show the boy where he belongs" I turned to him and smiled too "Denny sometimes I wonder if I deserve you and until earlier today my look is revenge"
I sat on the passenger side of Dennis' car and we headed towards the club where everyone was supposed to be, I looked at the clock in the car and it was 7:40 pm I thought we wouldn't be late much, it's almost nothing. The road didn't take long so we quickly went inside and I saw our group but we had to go first past my brother's friends I felt heightened even someone whistled at me but I saw Max's overprotective gaze which didn't bode well. Suddenly I heard a whistle at me but already in our group of friends it was Jüri so I just smiled "what a chick. I'm sorry Dennis who is your companion?"
"It's sweet Jüri, you won't know your biggest nightmare in life and on the track" I started laughing with the whole group and I already had time to say hello to everyone "God what did you do with our sweet shy y/n?" Jüri was joking but I didn't mind it even funny because everyone expected me dressed in trousers and some kind of T-shirt and instead I had makeup stylized hair black little tight dress and heels which is the opposite of me but in the end I looked similar to girls of other drivers. I felt the jealous eyes not only of Arthur but also of some of Max's friends looking at me from top to bottom but I didn't care today this evening was mine and I was supposed to be the center of attention. But I could exaggerate, for example, I mixed alcohols instead of drinking only one here a little vodka, champagne, whiskey, beer or even some strange colored drinks.
Suddenly I got dizzy so I went out onto the patio, sat on the ground and tried to light a cigarette, which probably wasn't sensible under the influence of alcohol. Suddenly, I felt someone approaching me, I didn't really look who because I honestly didn't care. "Hi you look very cute" at first I thought it was some old creep but I saw in the corner of my eye it was Pierre so I tried to ignore him but he wouldn't let go. "fuck off Pierre I'm not interested" but that only made him smile which didn't mean anything good. "You pretend to be untouchable I like it as much as you in that dress" he placed his hand on my thigh which gave me goosebumps and made me uncomfortable but just in time my brother showed up "hey get your hands off her asshole" he crouched down to me and he had already gone "look at me, are you okay? did he manage to do anything to you besides what I saw how it would kill the son of a bitch" I heard a note of aggression in his voice but it was loved as much because he always defended me as needed "not everything ok but it was scary, go have fun don't worry about me i'll be going back to the hotel anyway" all i saw was a smile on his face "sure princess but if you are in danger or need to be taken away call me." it was cute he always called me princess when i was younger and took care of me. But I went back to the party with Dennis, who seemed curious as to why I wasn't around so much. "My excuse for why I wasn't that much was because I probably could have been dragged to fuck but luckily Max saved me and I'm partially sober so I need a drink" Dennis immediately spit out what he was drinking shocked as he realized "What are you okay? do you want to go back to the hotel?” I looked at him with a slight smile "give me a minute because I want to stay longer" he nodded and went back to talking to someone. "Ugh. Tequila makes me want to dance." it flowed out of my mouth "so dance with me" I heard Denny tell me so I jumped up as did he. He put his hands on my waist and I on his shoulders and we started to dance I noticed that everyone started to be jealous but Arthur probably the most because he turned red and went somewhere and all I heard was a chit in my ear "we made it" which made a slight giggle from my lips. I thanked for the dance and went to the restroom before I was alone, someone accosted me and I heard "Who the hell do you think you are?" I turned around and saw it was Arthur. "I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about" and I tried to walk away but he wouldn't let go and I heard something that hurt me. " You think I'm here because I'm interested in you? What do you have to say? Or what do you think about different things like you're so damn interesting? Hey. I'm going to be honest with you because no one else will. Any guy who says, that he's interested in more than just fucking you, he's full of shit. So good luck with your boyfriend." I started to cry because it was true it couldn't be "Wow that bitch can cry" it was too much I couldn't take it anymore
"You know what I honestly wouldn't give a shit what you said but I don't you act like a fucking punk then all of a sudden she's your girlfriend, she's Dennis's ex-girlfriend who cheated on him not that she didn't do it now cuz look in the restroom next door cuz she's fucking some dude right now and she was only into your brother that's why she was with you from what she said you know what it doesn't matter today I don't care about such a dick like you so fuck off" I felt good when I finally said it and left "y/n sorry stop I didn't mean to" all I did was stick my middle finger out at him and went looking for Dennis.
"I'm going to the hotel, let's see it's 4.06 am and I have a flight to Monaco at 4 pm so see you at the next race and have a nice winter break" I said goodbye to everyone and went with Denny to the car and briefly told him the whole situation and I only heard how I finished "What did he say?! what a dick he is, hey remember that's not true we all like you for your personality jokes or professionalism at the track" a smile appeared on my face. He walked me to the door and he went to his room. I had changed my clothes, washed off my makeup and tied my hair comfortably. Even before going to bed, I managed to quickly post on insta from today.
y/nverstappen
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liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others
tagged: dennis_hauger oscarpiastri juri_vips liamlawson30
yn/verstappen After Hour
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dennis_hauger cool kids never sleep, they just party
yn/verstappen of course, what did you think?
yourbestfriend what did you do with my y/n where is it?
yn/verstappen here and where do you think?
y/nlovver yass we need more y/n in this context
arthurandy/nfanss y/n in her heartbreak era!! our queen slaying icon
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13.03 pm
I heard quite a loud knock on the door which was quite an unusual thing especially in a hotel so I got out of bed but unfortunately my hangover kicked in so the knocking became quite intrusive. "What exactly can I help you with, god Max you couldn't call or something" I gestured him inside and quickly closed the door.
"yet as if you were replying or answering! What a hangover appeared" you could hear a note of sarcasm in his voice. "Get on it because at 7pm I arranged for you to meet Horner because he wanted to so you can thank me because your career may have advanced" he made that proud father smile I've almost never seen in my life. He sat down and waited for me to get up because we were going to have something like lunch this morning anyway, but let's just say my hangover kept me in bed. Looking at the watch on the phone, it was 2 pm, so it's not that bad so we'll have time to eat something before the meeting. the flight passed peacefully I even managed to get some sleep and do my makeup to make myslef look better than now but my flight to monaco was changed to the UK due to a meeting which made me a little stressed I won't say no but I managed to post a few stories.
y/nverstappen added to story
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Red Bull Racing headquarters at 7pm
it was 6:58 p.m. and I was standing in front of the office waiting for them to let me in. I felt my legs turn to cotton when it was my turn. I shook my hand to say hello and took a seat. "So y/n I won't beat around the bush you are one of the brightest people on our junior team so we thought we would offer you this project" what came out of Horner's shocked me a bit.
"Wow thank you so much and I think I'll take the offer no matter what it is." I was excited enough that I didn't care what it was and I was going to take it anyway. He explained to me what it would be like, in short, I would drive the car around New York, they would record it and present the Red Bull Racing junior team to the world. However, I didn't have much time because I had to fly out tomorrow, of course I can take Max with me because I found that he is experienced in all this and is my older brother.
"I can't believe my sweet little sister y/n in my car still in New York! You don't even know how proud I am of you" I was shocked because I thought Max would get mad that they would put me in his car with his number on and they say he's proud still.
It was 11 pm and I just entered the apartment monaco was a place I missed but I will spend here until March 18 and we have November 21 of course I will be leaving, like now to nyc. I have a flight tomorrow at 12 am but my brother will pick me up. I finally had time for myself, unpacked the suitcase, put on the laundry and then the dryer and packed up and went to sleep. The alarm clock rang me at 6 am because I need to take care of myself, I got dressed I went for a run after I came back I ate breakfast I took a shower and got dressed it was 8 o'clock so max will arrive in two and a half hours so I decided to watch some series. This time will pass quickly and I don't even know when I found myself on the plane, if this is how my life will look like now, but at least I know what max was up to now. Browsing through instagram, I came across a post and I laughed, I showed my brother because he looked at me with an incomprehensible look, all I heard was "They haven't even been a couple for a week, y/n tell me you didn't do it" I laughed "No of course not" he looked at me seriously " I swear I didn't contribute to this" I went back to instagram.
motosportgossip
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liked by arthurandy/nonly pierregasly arthurfan and others
tagged arthur_leclerc randomgirl
motosportgossip our new paddock couple has officially announced the end of their relationship is there a reason why?
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arthurandy/nforever I respect Arthur but maybe it's time for y/n and him now?
arthurfanss liked by pierregasly?
pearpierre maybe Pierre will give us details, eh?
nlvogue
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liked by y/nverstappen, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others
tagged : y/nverstappen
nlvogue Y/n Verstappen en haar verschijning in het laatste nummer van Vogue, beschrijft de jonge Formule 2-coureur hoe moeilijk het was om een ​​vrouw te zijn in een sport als f2, terwijl ze toegeeft hoe graag ze vrouw is. Racen is altijd een ontsnapping geweest, en hij geeft toe dat het een stuk makkelijker was met zijn broer aan zijn zijde. Opgegroeid in de racewereld, zus van Max Verstappen, maar vooral bekend om haar geweldige capriolen op de baan, ook wel "black Widow" genoemd of gewoon onze Y/n Verstappen.
Begin december gaat het officieel in de verkoop
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y/nverstappen Ik ben trots op wat uit deze samenwerking naar voren is gekomen 😉
dennis_hauger I don't understand a thing but I'm still proud of you bestie ❤
user33 y/n and vogue and Dutch makes me look forward to more
arthurandy/nfan Arthur liked?!
y/nleclercshouldbe something must be up
...
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arthur_leclerc added to story
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y/nverstappen added to story
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tagged maxverstappen1, danielricciardo
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redbullracing
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liked by maxverstappen1, y/nverstappen danielricciardo arthur_leclers and others
tagged y/nverstappen
redbullracing we are officially announcing that on March 3rd there will be a new video of the junior project of the red bull team with y/n verstappen who will test our new cars on the streets of new york especially this car number 33 😉💪
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y/nverstappen I'm grateful and I hope it's not the last time haha
y/nloverr y/n driving for red bull still in Max's car and she in the new edition of vogue too much for today
maxverstappen1 I hope my car is in one piece y/n
y/nverstappen do you think i am you?
dennis_hauger I'm proud of you kid
y/nverstappen not that we are the same age but thanks for keeping me in your heart bestie 😘
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y/nverstappen
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liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others
tagged: yourbestfriend maxverstappen1 redbullracing
yn/verstappen Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend
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redbullracing 💪
yourbestfriend karma is your boyfriend
yn/verstappen of course karma is my boyfriend what did you think
arthur_leclerc Nice jacket I guess
yn/verstappen thanks i guess
y/nleclercshouldbe artur likes and comments again?
user567 maybe they are together but i don't think so
...
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----
taglist : @vinylbycas @pospolites-blog @kazikiscool @honethatty12
a/n: wow it came out a bit long but wait for the next parts hah again sorry for mistakes and if you want to be tagged under the next part then text me.
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Note
Dark turtles living in the penthouse with Cody after freed from Darius hc?
Dark Turtles in Cody’s Penthouse (Headcanons)
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A/N: Not a super detailed one, as I need to get up early in the morning. The official count down until I finish my internship😭
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Warnings: None🖤💚
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The Dark Turtles were surprisingly quiet when they first moved into the penthouse. They had been there before, but none of them, other than Leo, had taken the time to take in the looks and decor of the penthouse.
Leo seemed to be the most affected by the move. He remembered his time in the penthouse, seeing the way the turtles had taken care of him in every room. He seemed melancholy, and for a time Cody was a little worried for him. But as time passed, Leo came to become comfortable in his new surroundings, somehow finding peace with the past.
The one that did the best with the change of surroundings, was Mikey. He quickly adapted, learning how to use the television and Helix console in less than a day. In the beginning, Cody would often find Mikey in front of the television in the morning, and the last thing in the evening, and for a time, Cody had no access to the couch, due to Mikey’s long legs taking up the whole length.
Raph was more mad the first week, his aggressions growing to a point he hadn’t felt in a long time. All these new impressions on him made him feel on edge and nervous, fearing that everything could be taken away at any given moment. But after the first week he realized that nothing was going to be taken away from him, and that Cody in fact wanted him and his brothers to stay. It was incredible comfort to Raph, even bringing him to tears one evening, crying out his feelings of gratitude to Cody.
Donnie almost seemed untouched by the whole ordeal. He found his brother’s over emotional states irritating and eratonal. Donnie was more than happy that Cody allowed him and his brothers to stay in his expensive penthouse, but he did not show it. Instead he would nod gratefully at Cody whenever he was around, doing everything in his power not to cause Cody any problems. The last thing Donnie wanted, was for him and his brothers fuck up such an amazing second chance, after all they had been though with the turtles and Cody. Therefore he spent a lot of time in Cody’s lap, either working on his own thing, or helping Cody out with what he could.
All of the Dark Turtles took over the old rooms of their counterparts, each of them finding a strange comfort in the room, as if they had been in there for longer. As if they had called it theirs before they even moved in with Cody. It was a place they often went to calm themselves down, or just to get away from their sometimes hectic lives. During their first few weeks in the penthouse, that was where they spent most of their time, collecting their feelings and thoughts.
Raph was not much for admitting it, but during his first nights in his new bed, he started to have nightmares. Visions of the past haunting his mind, along with the many pains he had been through. But those nightmares disappeared after Raph had his emotional talk with Cody, finally giving him peace at night.
It didn’t take long for Leo to find Leonardo’s bonsai tree, and without hesitation, he started to take care of it, recounting the words Leonardo had told him back then.
All through the Dark Turtles were quiet during the first few weeks, the moment they started feeling at home, they got loud. From one day to another, they started running up and down the hallways, screaming and yelling, crashing into walls when they were too heavy at a high speed, unable to move out of the way before collision. That had already cost Cody a lot.
Peacekeepers had been a constant after the kanabo clones moved in. Noise complaints, or the inhabitants of the building having something to complain about. There was even that one time the peacekeepers were called, because Mikey had been blasting music out over the city in the middle of the night. People were not fans.
Cody would follow in the footsteps of the original turtles, and take up the clones ninja training from where it was left off, helping them to become even stronger, and using their emotions as a tool to help them move further. It had proven quite successful, even helping the turtles become more calm. Or, as calm as a bunch of kanabo clones could be. Now they at least would cause as much of a noise interruption as before.
Just because they are part kanabo, does not mean that they didn’t work. Bishop had long wished to work together with the original turtles, and maybe even put them on a paycheck. But with the turtles going back to their own time, Bishop turned his attention towards the clones. It took some time, but he finally managed to convince them to work for him. In the end the Dark Turtles saw it as a win - anything to stump Darius or any of his new tricks into the dirt. And then getting paid for it? Amazing!
Turns out that the clones are quite spontaneous shoppers. With a sudden large amount of money in their hands, they were not quite sure how to handle it, spending it on whatever they found interesting. Cody had obviously noticed the large amount of new things laying around the penthouse.
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jeonqkooks · 2 years
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our beloved summer | jjk (03)
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You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.
pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader
genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, obs3 is kinda oc centric 🤔, a mention of death but like a hypothetical death??, mentions of being *emotionally* haunted, taehyung almost dies 😭, someone so hot and cocky and petty that you might die, oh and tswift references because obviously
rating: PG-13
word count: 7.8k
note: asdfghjkl it’s been a hot minute guys. this was supposed to be longer but i decided last minute that some bits would probably work better in obs4, so no jimin and hobi today 🤥
vote for the revenge 🍆 😈 here before obs4!
series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist
— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young
Cardigan - Taylor Swift
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Sometimes, you cry in your sleep.
When you were a kid, aged four or five, you often had nightmares about going to kindergarten. It was all very dramatic. You would wake up with tears and snot running down your face, wailing like someone was taking your candy, calling for your mother until you made sure that you were in fact at home, instead of locked away in the absolute hell that was preschool.
As you got older, you started having nightmares about a wider variety of things, but it was usually about someone passing away – your mother, to be specific – and your body would always shake itself awake as the imaginary devastation wreaked its havoc, taunted you, toying with the idea of losing a person you loved. You used to think your brain was a special kind of fucked up.
Regardless, you noticed a pattern in how your subconscious worked. Instead of monsters and demons and every horrifying urban legend mentioned on Creepypasta, it would plague you with your greatest fears and your own worst memories. You tend to burst at the seams just like that, tortured by your own damn mind.
When you opened your eyes this morning, a tear immediately rolled down your cheek onto the pillow, and a hollow, stricken feeling greeted you good morning as it settled in your ribcage, making a home next to your heart. You felt it seep into every vein and every pore before you were even fully awake.
Though this time, it wasn’t a dream about someone dying. Quite the opposite, actually. In fact, it was a nice moment that your brain chose to replay in your head as you slept, though the memory seems to have slipped your mind now that you’re trying to escape the sudden anguish in your chest.
You can’t recall what it was, but you remember the feeling. You remember that it was nice. A nice and happy memory, with Jungkook.
You don’t know why your subconscious has to agonize you like this. Every time it forces you to remember Jungkook and who he was, it adds another invisible scar that only you can see. Fantasy keeps making you relive him, and reality keeps ripping him away from you.
You aren’t an emotional person, or you didn’t use to be anyway. You think – no, scratch that, you know – that it must be the result of your mother’s emotional unavailability throughout your whole childhood. Whenever you tripped and fell, or accidentally burned your tongue on a hot drink, or got teased by the neighbor kids, your first resort is to cry because that’s what children do. They get hurt, and they cry. But then your crying would cease after a few minutes, because your mother would scold you into stopping. She conditioned vulnerability out of you since you were a kid.
Even as you’ve grown up and learned to distance yourself from her, to separate her wants from yours, to be your own person instead of someone that your mother was trying to revive her long lost dreams through, you still hear her words sometimes. You can’t be anyone if you’re weak.
You can’t say that it’s entirely her fault. That’s the generational difference between the two of you, and the hypocritical standards to which the world operated in her time are really to blame. In a way, she was just a victim, a byproduct of that hypocrisy. But she tried to pass that onto you, and for some reason, you can’t let go of the fact that she did manage to instill in you some of her aversion for vulnerability.
By the time that you met Jungkook, you had already been away from your mother for a while. You weren’t estranged, but you weren’t on the best terms that a mother and her daughter should be on. You started to be independent from her halfway through high school and gradually, because she stopped being the person who gave you the clothes off your back and put food on your table, you took away the right she thought she had to rule over every aspect of your life.
And despite that disdain for vulnerability that you at a young age had no choice but to internalize, you became the one to decide what to feel, and how to feel it. You decided that maybe being emotional wasn’t the worst thing after all. It’s normal to cry when you’re sad, or in pain, or when you’re neither but you just simply need to let out a good cry. 
You reckon that’s where it came from – your need to be in charge, to be in control of everything. If you’re the one in the driver’s seat, then other people have less power to hurt you.
But not Jungkook. Never Jungkook.
It applies to everyone else, but you don’t suppose Jungkook has ever played by your rules.
Being with him was easy. You were surprised how little effort it took to let him in because you were once convinced that there was no chance you would ever be able to stand him. Loving him made breathing seem hard. 
In your relationship with Jungkook, there was nothing to decide. You didn’t have to choose to be happy; he just made you happy. As long as you were with him, every house was a home. Until he pulled the rug and you reverted to being that little kid again, on the ground with bloodied knees. He was the calm, and he was the storm.
You had no say in him leaving you, and you had no say in how his swift exit from your life would affect you. For the longest time, there was just a lot of heartache that demanded to be felt.
In the first few months after it happened, you were practically debilitated by the sadness. Taehyung still remembers it all too well. You spent your weekend evenings drowning your sorrows by knocking back drink after drink until you couldn’t remember who you were trying to forget. You could barely even function, and it was fucking pathetic. It was the most helpless you had ever felt.
It wasn’t until Taehyung and Jimin took away your most effective distraction that you started choosing again. If your mother made you choose to feel, then Jungkook made you do the opposite. He taught you that maybe your mother wasn’t so wrong after all. Maybe she’d been hurt before. Maybe she was only keeping you from having to experience it. Maybe this was how she loved you.
You took it one day at a time. Baby steps. Because the only way to condition your heart to not love Jungkook, was to convince yourself that you hated him. You forced yourself to internalize it until you believed it.
You hated him.
You hated him.
You hated him.
And it worked, because he wasn’t there to tell your heart otherwise. Choosing not to love Jungkook is choosing to love yourself.
But in your dreams, in your sleep, however, it’s another story. The difference between feeling when you’re awake, sober, and feeling when you’re asleep, is the control. When your lines of defense are down, all hell breaks loose.
Your subconscious is a strange place. If the hurt was a house, then you’d be its most treasured occupant. But this house is haunted. You walk through the halls every day, and down the stairs, and into rooms that are filled with memories of you and him. The walls echo I love you, the curtains rustle with whispers of I miss you, but every night, when you settle into a bed that is only warm on one side, you feel the distinct absence of an I’m sorry.
Jungkook didn’t even say sorry to you, not when it mattered the most.
Funny enough, right across the street is the healing, but you’ve never really been able to get close to it. With every step you take, the distance seems to stretch longer and longer, until you’re just running in place trying to get to the other side. Eventually, you get tired of trying, and even though the hurt is a hellscape purely designed to make you suffer, you think you would rather go back to that house than be stuck in the hollow limbo in the middle of nowhere, looking at a better future just within reach but never really getting there. It’s cold in the void, and it’s warmer in the hurt because there, at least it’s familiar.
Sometimes, you’d stand in the bedroom, wrapped in a blanket of your own insecurities and regrets, and look out the window. The floorboards beneath your unsteady feet creak with the voices of everybody who has left you, everybody who was taken from you, everybody who deemed you unworthy of their love and time.
You’d stand there and see a glimpse of yourself in a better world, where you’re a little less lonely, a little less hollow, a little less of a shadow of your former self. You could see yourself be happy, even.
You know that it’s there. It’s all about making the active decision to move forward. But the brighter future that awaits you just ahead is one without Jungkook, and… you’ve never been sure if you really want that.
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It takes some more effort than usual to breathe, and to sit up, and to get out of bed, and to start your day like everything is fine and like you aren’t knee deep in one of your unwanted sad girl hours. It’s unwanted because you didn’t choose this. You’ve been actively choosing to not be sad about Jungkook for so long that you almost forgot there was a time where you had no choice but to be sad about him.
He only came back into your life recently, and he hasn’t done anything – not really – and yet, he’s already threatening to undo what you’ve taught yourself and all the progress you’ve made.
You don’t know if he kept his promise of leaving first thing in the morning since you aren’t exactly an early riser, but he did leave before you woke up. And when you paddle out into the kitchen, for some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.
You’re surprised to see Taehyung there, looking at you awkwardly and holding a bag of pastries in his hands. On the kitchen counter next to him is a plate of toasts and scrambled eggs with a side of kimchi. An odd combo but it’s your odd combo. There’s some steam that’s still rising from the food.
Taehyung nods toward the counter and sets his croissants on the dining table. He addresses an elephant in the room but not the elephant in the room.
“I got your favorites, but it looks like you already have your breakfast.”
“Oh, uh…” You purse your lips and swallow, recognizing that Taehyung didn’t buy food to bring over and then made you some more food. You’re hungry, but you don’t feel like you can stomach anything right now. “You can have that… I’ll take what you got me.”
He nods and doesn’t say anything else. He maneuvers around the familiar space of your kitchen to get some orange juice from the fridge. Taehyung offers to make you a cup of tea even though it’s your apartment, but you decline and choose to munch on the croissants dryly.
The atmosphere is off at your dining table. 
Yours and Taehyung’s love language is food. It’s sad how you can’t even share this nice thing with him today.
Taehyung takes a hesitant bite of the eggs, as if he’s scared that you’ll jump over the table to take back your plate. It’s just breakfast.
Neither of you says anything about who spent the night on your couch just out in the living room, nor about who made the food that Taehyung is eating. 
To anyone else, there probably isn’t even something to talk about. You provided someone shelter and they made you some food as a gesture of appreciation. And maybe that really is the case with this. You gave Jungkook a place to stay so he wouldn’t risk his life in the heavy rain and in return, he scrambled some eggs and toasted some bread for you.
You’re overthinking it. There’s no deeper layer of meaning here.
You’re half present and half somewhere far away. Words slip from your mouth as you converse with Taehyung but you don’t know what the conversation is even about. One of those times where you’re talking but not really saying anything.
“So…” Taehyung trails off unsuredly. You chuckle, knowing what he’s trying to do. It’s warmer in your chest, where your heart soars with affection for Kim Taehyung. You love him so much, you love him wholeheartedly. You cannot even begin to fathom what life would be like without him.
You’re grateful that your friend doesn’t press for information; he must sense from the way you’re idly picking at the flakes of your croissant that you would talk about it in your own time. You take the reins that he’s handing you, letting you steer the conversation in whichever way you want to.
“You went off about private jets last night. What was that all about?”
“Celebrities these days, man,” he grumbles, sounding exaggeratingly aggravated. “Did you know that Kylie Jenner takes flights on her jet for less than 20 minutes? Twenty whole minutes? I mean, what the fuck is up with that? Complete disregard for the environment.”
With a scoff, you pretend to be annoyed. “I knew you weren’t listening to me. I told you about her 3-minute flight last month, you ass.”
He leans back, still chewing, and thinks, though after approximately fifteen seconds, he announces with no remorse, “Yeah, I don’t really listen when you tell me celebrity gossip.”
You gasp and chuck a croissant flake in his direction. It doesn’t make it very far, and lands on the eggs instead.
“Then why are you suddenly so invested? How do you even know who Kylie Jenner is now, and how she uses her jets?”
“Hey! I know who Kylie Jenner is!” He seems offended, but then adds in a smaller voice, “Sort of.” Classic Taehyung, always living under a rock. “The point is, my sister kept sending me articles about it and I thought, “Huh. Private jets. The environment. Billionaires. Celebrities.” We– well, you, aren’t that far removed from that. You’re working with one of them right now.”
You give him a look.
“What?” Taehyung shrugs. “Jin must have his own jet too, right?”
You don’t know. It isn’t a topic that would casually come up in conversation, nor does he go around bragging about it. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he does own a jet, though. The amount of zeroes decorating his very Googleable net worth makes you woozy if you think about it too much.
You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe?”
“I bet he does,” Taehyung says, leaning forward on his elbows as if he’s got some insider scoop you aren’t privy to. “And I bet you won’t remember this conversation when Jin offers to fly you to award shows on his jet.”
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Maybe there’s some truth about speaking things into existence and the universe conspiring to make it happen. Manifesting and all that. The law of attraction and whatnot. Speak positive things into existence and you shall receive positive outcomes. Think negative thoughts and you will attract the shittiest things the cosmos has ever birthed.
You aren’t really a believer in this, but you’d rather not take your chances. Not if everyone and their mother are screaming about the universe and its infinite possibilities all the time.
You suppose that’s why you haven’t really talked to Taehyung lately when it comes to your Jungkook predicament, not since he reentered your life oh so gracefully. Talking about it makes it seem like a bigger deal than you want it to be. Talking about your feelings makes it harder to ignore that they’re there.
Jungkook certainly isn’t making things easier for you. You thought that he was getting too buddy-buddy before, but if last Saturday proved anything, he definitely has room to crank it up a few notches. It’s fair, because he did spend the night, and if this was a romcom, the two of you would have successfully sailed past the ice breaking point. This would be the part of the movie where the characters grow closer, and where the romance blooms.
But this is not a movie and Jungkook doesn’t seem to fucking remember that he’s the person that broke your heart. 
Not once has he addressed the elephant in the room, which you suppose isn’t something you can complain about. You don’t want him to bring it up either, the fact that you once knew him better than anyone in the world, and he knew you. You all know how that story ended.
Actually, you don’t. You just know that it ended.
“Good morning,” a voice greets from beside you. You register who it is even before you turn around, and you register that as of right now, you’re the only ones standing here, waiting for the elevator.
“Morning,” you say, though your voice is considerably less enthusiastic. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though. He smiles, and the curl of his lips looks almost as inviting as the coffee you’re holding in your hand. The beverage is full and warm against your fingers. You’ve yet to take a sip, and you tell yourself that the weariness fogging up your brain is the reason why you think his expression is just a little bit endearing, and why your heart rate picks up just a couple beats because of it.
The elevator dings. When Jungkook steps in, you hesitate. 
“You coming?” he asks, slightly confused.
You wait for a beat, your grip tightening on the paper cup, like you’d be able to summon someone else to waltz in there right this second just so you wouldn’t be alone with him. On a Monday morning at that. Life is truly testing you.
And because life is testing you, no one shows up to rescue you. If you concentrate hard enough, maybe Taehyung will magically materialize out of thin air…
You suck it up and step in though, because you don’t want to look like a weirdo in front of your ex, and whoever might be watching the security cameras.
The doors close, trapping you in this metal death box and its commercial background jingle. 
“How was the rest of your weekend?” Jungkook asks. Small talk – it’s one of the things you dislike the most. And coming from him of all people?
“It was fine,” you say curtly, but you know he’ll keep prodding.
And he does. “What did you do on Sunday?”
“Y’know, just catching up on sleep, catching up on some TV shows…”
Jungkook frowns, and he’s glad that you aren’t looking at him to see it. That night, you were kind to him. You managed to have a good conversation or two. You made him dinner and you let him sleep over. Granted, you might have only done it out of politeness and not genuine hospitality. You could’ve let him go when he was packing up to leave, but you didn’t. You were kinder to him than he ever expected you to be when this project forced you two together again, and he knows that he’s in no position to hope for anything else.
But here he is anyway, asking for more.
In the time that he takes to think of what else to say to you, to goad you into actually speaking to him, the elevator has already reached your floor. You step out without a word, and Jungkook sinks just a little bit.
But he carries on. He follows you to where the studio is, though he deliberately keeps himself a few paces behind you to not crowd the space you’re silently asking from him. It’s barely 9:30 in the morning; he can see that you’re tired, and you haven’t had your coffee, and the last thing you need is probably Jungkook trying to push it when he has the option not to.
He watches you open the door and promptly stop. Seokjin and Namjoon are already there, animatedly conversing with someone whose back faces you. Seokjin’s manager and an unfamiliar older woman stand in the back of the room, engaged in their own chat, though theirs seems much calmer and formal than the three men in the center.
Jungkook watches your brows slightly furrow in confusion. The gears in your head turn until everything clicks. Your eyes light up immediately. 
“Oh my God…” You almost drop the latte in your hand once you realize who it is, and why Namjoon is fawning over him like a teenager. The mysterious man is the second most famous person in the room just after Seokjin. You rush forward, your entire body buzzing with so much excitement that it makes all traces of fatigue evaporate. “Yoongi!”
Everybody in the room turns to the sound of your shrill voice as you squeal loudly, grinning from ear to ear to see your friend again after so long. It’s been, what, almost half a year now?
“Hey, kiddo,” Yoongi greets you, his voice even and cool though he’s sporting the same bright smile as you are. His hair is longer than the last time you saw him. He looks even more handsome than you remember. “Long time no see. How’s my favorite poet doing?”
Jungkook quietly makes his way past the two of you to drop his stuff on the table in the back before he shuffles to the circle of conversation, opting to stand next to Yoongi. He gives Seokjin and Namjoon a small smile and a nod in greeting, and watches on as the scene before them unfolds. You seemed too tired to even give him two sentences in the elevator, but you definitely don’t look anything like it now.
“When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me?” You punch Yoongi playfully in the arm, and he pretends to clutch the point of contact as if he’s been severely wounded, just like how you used to joke around together in the studio. You roll your eyes, and he shoots you a wink in return.
“Relax, I just got back a few days ago. I wanted it to be a surprise for you. You should’ve seen the look on your face. It was so worth it,” Yoongi admits, still smiling. He takes the coffee cup from your hand and unceremoniously knocks it against the chest of the person on his left – Jungkook. A firm Hold this, like he was merely passing it to a personal assistant. “Are you at least gonna give me a hug, little one?”
Yoongi opens his arms, awaiting your embrace which you give him after half a minute of pretending to consider it. Your arms go around his middle while his own wrap around your shoulders. He’s warm, and his scent is comforting. You’ve missed your connection with Yoongi, and the friendship he’s given you. You’ve missed him.
The thing that makes your relationship with Yoongi different from your relationship with Taehyung, or Jimin, or anyone else, is the context through which your friendship bloomed.
You met him when you were starting to come into your own as a writer, when you were developing your voice and style. Working with him gave you your big break, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t play an important role in helping you find your identity in this sphere of life. Yoongi understands you in ways that Taehyung and Jimin never could because they don’t know what it’s like to do what you do, no more than you could understand what it’s like to be a museum curator or a dancer. And Yoongi understands you in ways that Jungkook would have if he had been there.
When you pull away from the hug, Jungkook is quick to thrust the coffee back into your hand. You mutter a small Thanks without even meeting his eyes. Yoongi ruffles your hair affectionately, and it makes you shuffle away in faux annoyance, even though you’re laughing.
“Before you so rudely interrupted us, I was introducing myself,” Yoongi chides, shaking his head in your direction like a disappointed teacher. He turns to his left then, a smug grin on his face as he looks Jungkook over. “If he’s Namjoon, then you must be the famous Jungkook? What a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.”
The confusion flashing in Jungkook’s eyes has you stiffening slightly as you watch their interaction. You were so delighted by Yoongi’s surprise appearance that you forgot he’s one of the three people in the room who knows about your history with Jungkook.
The younger man straightens his posture and extends a hand in Yoongi’s direction, his expression blank and his voice flat as he says, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m very much looking forward to working with you, Yoongi.”
“Oh please,” the rapper laughs, taking the offered hand and shaking it vigorously. It’s too much, almost comical. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you want to dig a hole to crawl into because this is not what you expected at all. “Call me Mr. Min.”
Seokjin and Namjoon break into chuckles alongside Yoongi, but you only purse your lips. Jungkook doesn’t seem to find anything humorous either, because his hand stops as he stares at Yoongi, and you don’t have to stand between them to feel trapped in the middle.
“Oh come on, it’s a joke. Lighten up, buddy,” Yoongi finally says. That grin is still on his face, and his tone is almost patronizing. “Jeez, this guy must be fun at parties.”
Jungkook’s eyes flicker to you for a second, his tongue poking into his cheek. You can tell that he’s annoyed. You’re not sure if Seokjin and Namjoon notice it, but even if they do, you doubt that they would think much of it.
Someone that you recognize as Yoongi’s manager says to Jungkook in a calm voice, “You’ll have to excuse him. Yoongi takes some getting used to.” 
In the end, Jungkook forces out a laugh to ease the tension, so you all can move on.
Before you can slither away to your own corner of the room to put down your bag and coffee, Yoongi pulls you back to his side with an arm resting comfortably around your shoulders. You give him a warning glare that you know he understands, but he just shrugs against your body. Underneath that smug and phlegmatic exterior, Yoongi seems almost protective, and it’s almost unsettling.
“So fellas,” he says confidently to the room, “what’s the first order of business?”
“What business?” You frown. “You have one feature, and we’re not finished writing yet.”
Seokjin steps in to address whatever it is that’s making Yoongi look like he could be the king of the world. “Actually,” he starts, “that’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about today.”
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The second surprise of the day is Min Yoongi calling himself the Jack Antonoff to Kim Seokjin’s Taylor Swift. The second surprise is Agust D being a much more prominent part of the album than just a simple feature. The second surprise is Yoongi practically begging Seokjin for a job much below his pay grade just because he heard your name and Jungkook’s in the same sentence. The man actually dove right into this after his tour ended, without even a moment to catch his breath, just because he’s petty. And it’s weird because your situation doesn’t even concern him.
That’s another thing that you and Yoongi have in common: You’re both petty. 
When Seokjin first announced the news, you were practically vibrating. Yoongi as a producer? Get the fuck out. The other artistic pea in your creative pod? You were already overjoyed when you thought you would only be getting him for a feature, but for him to actually hop on board as producer and you get the chance to make another album with him? You’re elated, because the man is brilliant.
But then the excitement died down when the realization set in…
“Yoongi.”
“Y/N.”
“Yoongi!”
“Y/N!”
You huff out a breath and groan internally. He has never been shy to show that he enjoys teasing you. Every time he gets a reaction out of you, he would coo like you were a baby and call you adorable. 
Yoongi leans back as he watches you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. The two of you are sitting in the booth that he always requests, in the back of his favorite restaurant. You managed to pry him away from the studio earlier, telling the guys that you’d love to grab lunch with him to catch up.
It wasn’t a lie; you do want to sit down with your friend and listen to everything that has transpired in his life since the last time you saw each other. But he’s been here for a few hours and he has already made your job so much more difficult by being a passive aggressive dickhead to Jungkook. You can’t focus on making a good album for Seokjin if you have to run interference on Yoongi and Jungkook all day.
“What was that this morning?” You cross your arms as you stare at him.
“What was what?” Yoongi tilts his head innocently.
“You know what, Min. All the nicknames, the cocky attitude. Treating Jungkook like he’s your secretary. You made him get coffee for you!”
He scoffs and reaches forward for his glass of water. “Come on, that was funny. I thought you’d enjoy that.”
“Well, I didn’t. It’s exhausting enough to be around him all the time. I don’t want to have to babysit you too.”
You see where he’s coming from, you really do. If your friend had an ex who flipped their entire world upside down, you certainly wouldn’t be the friendliest gal toward that person either. You appreciate Yoongi looking out for you, but he has to understand that this is your place of work, and while you and him are friends, you still live in different worlds. You aren’t a world-renowned, jetsetting heartthrob like him and Seokjin; you can’t afford to screw up opportunities because you know they don’t grow on trees.
Yoongi softens when he sees the look on your face, but he stands by his actions. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he murmurs across the table, “but can’t Jungkook handle a few jabs here and there? The guy deserves it. If you could listen to yourself when you told me everything that went down between the two of you–”
“I was drunk,” you interject, as if that counterpoint would ever hold up. Drunk words are sober thoughts, or whatever it is that people say.
“Being drunk was the only reason why you were honest with me,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle.
“It’s…” you sigh, “it’s not even about whether he deserves it or not. I just don’t want everyone at work to know my business.”
A waitress comes over to your table with your orders then. Your eyes follow her movements as she sets the plates down, while Yoongi’s eyes follow you. When she’s finished, you thank her with a smile, and Yoongi compromises.
He rubs his palms and clasps them together. “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll put him through the wringer, but I’ll keep your name out of it. No one will know about your history. Let Jungkook think I’m just an asshole, I don’t care.”
It’s not ideal, because you would rather have Yoongi act like he doesn’t know anything at all. Like he’s just as clueless as Seokjin and Namjoon and like to him, you and Jungkook have never been more than a pair of coworkers. But this is the most that Yoongi would settle for because he’s annoying like that sometimes.
“Fine,” you agree with great reluctance. You pick up a fork and point it in his direction. “Since you’re an asshole, you’re paying for lunch.”
He swats your fork away, laughing. “It’s cute that you thought I wouldn’t.”
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“Oh, yeah, I heard you and Jungkook went to college together, right? Were you close?”
Were you close?
This is a normal thing to ask. Anyone would ask this if they knew two people who had a prior history with each other. When you found out that Yoongi ran in the same circles as Seokjin, you asked him if they were close too.
But when the question came from Seokjin much later that afternoon, while the four of you were just sitting around, enjoying a much needed break after three nonstop hours of testing Seokjin’s acoustics and an instrumental demo that Jungkook worked on last week.
You don’t even know how Seokjin got to that question from you mindlessly recalling the strenuous process of learning music theory in college, but nevertheless, here you are, put on the spot.
It’s a simple yes-no question, though saying no would prompt even more queries, and saying yes would… well, what would saying yes mean?
Seokjin and Namjoon are looking at you. Jungkook is looking at you. You’re glad that Yoongi left after he dropped you off. If he were here, he would be awaiting your answer too.
There’s a lot you wish you could let out. You swallow thickly, but the words just won’t go down.
You want to say… Yes, we were close. We were close in the same way that the name of someone’s first love can be inscribed on their heart and never fade away. If you could hold my beating heart in your hands, and if you had a key to open it, I think you would find his initials there. The letters might be messily scribbled, might be crossed out by harsh lines of ink and rewritten again in a different font, but they’re still there, and they will always be there.
Yes, we were close. He knew me inside and out, better than the back of his own hand. He knew me like we came from the same star, destined to find one another before we were even us. 
Yes, we were close. He was the person I loved the most, my favorite person in the whole entire world. I think, and I hope, that I was someone he loved too…
Despite the words lodged in your throat, you aren’t in a position to voice any of it. So you push them down — a conscious and routine decision — and shove them into your box of memories again.
You scratch the back of your neck as you look at Jungkook and he looks at you, eyes conveying something you’re not willing to understand. In the end, you settle for a response that doesn’t really answer Seokjin’s question. But even if your words don’t clear anything up, your hesitation ought to have given something away.
It’s the opposite of what you told Jungkook when he showed up at your door for the first time in five years.
“We were… friends.”
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When Taehyung comes home from work the next day, he almost fucking dies.
It’s a regular evening. On the drive home, he thought about the leftover pasta waiting for him in the fridge because he was absolutely starving. He thought about which documentary he was going to watch while he ate his dinner. He thought about telling you that his sister got an acceptance letter from her dream college. You’ve always loved her, and he knows you would be over the moon to share her joy as if she was your own family.
Yeah, just a regular Tuesday evening.
Until he opens the door to his apartment and screams loud enough to alarm the entire building.
“What the fuck!” His keys clatter to the floor as the man clutches his chest in an attempt to calm his heart. Laughter bounces off Taehyung’s walls, in total contrast to his heavy breaths from almost going into cardiac arrest.
“Hi, bud,” you manage to say through tears from your place on the couch in his living room, where you’ve been waiting for the past hour and a half in complete silence and darkness. Your ears hurt from him almost taking out your hearing and your eyes have to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room when Taehyung switched on the lights, but it was so worth the laugh. You wish you could’ve captured his face on camera.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your friend grumbles as he hangs up his jacket and picks up his keys to throw in the ceramic bowl by the small entryway.
“I texted you to come over but you never replied.”
Taehyung fishes his phone from the pocket of his slacks and throws it in your direction, which you clumsily catch. “My phone died.”
“Where’s the powerbank I got you for your birthday?”
He walks over to plop down next to you on the couch. The cushions dip under his weight, and you scootch over to make more room for him.
“I left it at home.”
You slap a hand over his pec, your face unimpressed. “There’s no point in getting you anything.”
“Don’t do that,” he bemoans, rubbing the spot on his chest that you just hit. “My heart is still racing. You scared the fucking shit out of me.”
You reach over to pat his soft hair as an apology before you tip your head back in another fit of giggles. “Sorry! But in my defense, you know I do shit like this. This is not the first time you’ve gone through this.”
“Whatever,” Taehyung mutters. “Why did you need me to come over? I was looking forward to a relaxing night all by myself.”
You shuffle closer until your head can rest on his shoulder. “I have gossip.”
“Celebrity gossip?”
“My gossip.”
“Gossip?” He raises an eyebrow as he glances down at you. “Or gossip?”
You take some seconds to decipher which category the Yoongi news would fit into, and which category the revelation that Namjoon dropped in your lap earlier today would fit into. “Both,” you conclude. 
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“Namjoon told you that Jungkook lied?”
“He didn’t know that Jungkook lied. I pieced it together.”
“Hmm.”
Your fingers curl around the steaming mug of tea that Taehyung made for each of you. You bring the ceramic close to your face to breathe in the soothing scent of jasmine rising from the beverage. 
Taehyung takes a sip of his drink before he asks, “And how do you feel about that?”
You don’t answer right away, though you knew this question was inevitable. How do you feel about it? The fact that Namjoon didn’t actually have a family emergency when he dropped Jungkook at your apartment when the three of you were supposed to brainstorm together. The fact that when they pulled up in front of your building, Jungkook told Namjoon that he could go home if he wanted to, that Jungkook didn’t want to make him work on a day off. The fact that despite Namjoon saying it was completely fine, Jungkook practically insisted that he go home.
When Namjoon told you about it a few hours ago, your first thought was to tell Taehyung. It wasn’t Namjoon’s intention, of course. He didn’t know. He was asking you about some of the edits to the lyrics made in his absence, and it just came out.
You deliberately waited until you could sit down and talk to your best friend to sort through your thoughts because if you did it alone, you would surely spiral. Because this isn’t Taehyung’s first Jungkook-related rodeo with you; he knows how to handle you in times like these.
“I think this is fucking me up again,” you say honestly. Taehyung is the only person that you’ve admitted any of this to; the only person that you can admit any of this to. “I just want to do my job. Jungkook shouldn’t be allowed to maintain any kind of relationship with me outside of work! But all of a sudden he’s spending the night and asking me about my love life. It’s been years. Why is he still affecting me? Why am I still here?”
Here. Between the past and the future. The limbo parallel to the present.
Sure, maybe it’s for the better that Jungkook doesn’t bring it up. You would rather that this stay between the two of you (and, cue a heavy sigh, Yoongi). You know Seokjin and Namjoon are decent people, and their opinion of you wouldn’t change if they knew about this, but you would rather your place of work be drama-free.
So yes, maybe it is better this way. But it would be best if Jungkook treats you like a mere coworker. If he acts like you simply don’t exist outside of the studio. If he could stop making your already messed up heart even more confused. All of that would be better than whatever the fuck he’s doing now.
Asking about your love life. Being attentive. Smiling around you. Bringing you the drink you once loved. Lying so he would get you alone! 
It doesn’t even matter if he wants a blank slate, because he can’t undo the damage he caused just by batting his eyelashes at you and pretending like everything is fine and dandy.
Maybe Jungkook hasn’t said anything because he himself would rather forget all about it too. You could understand this to a certain extent, because no one wants to be reminded that they’ve hurt others. But he did cause you pain. He did hurt you. The scars that your soul bears are proof of that.
To not say anything at all and have the nerve to act like he cares about you. It’s… cowardly. He’s still continuing to hurt you by doing this. You always thought you deserve better than this.
“Because you keep saying that you hate Jungkook, but you don’t,” Taehyung says. He’s right, you know he’s right. This lie might have been your lifeline before, might have worked once upon a time but Jungkook is here to call your bluff now. “Because you didn’t get any closure.”
Sometimes you forget that Taehyung can be quite the relationship guru despite never having gone through a serious relationship himself. There’s something wistful about him whenever you two have a serious talk like this that makes you wonder if his heart has ever experienced the same kind of sorrow that yours did, and if he just never told you about it.
You pout, despite the gravity of his words and the tension that weighs heavy on you. “I should hate him.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees with a chuckle and a sip of tea, “you probably should.”
“I can’t just throw myself into work this time,” you think out loud. It isn’t lost on you that the thing you’ve been using to cope, to distract yourself, is the same thing that has led you back to square one.
The scented candle that you lit and put on the coffee table is burning out. You watch the small flame flicker wildly around the charred wick, like it’s holding onto its final moments of life before time inevitably runs out. You feel oddly sad just looking at it struggling to keep its light, until it finally dies in a tiny whirl of smoke.
“Maybe I should start dating again.” You mean this as a joke, because god knows the last time you tried getting out there again, you were left with a memory so mortifying that sometimes when you reminisce on the experience, you still shudder with embarrassment.
It was the first time that you had gone out clubbing in a while, with a few girls from your internship, and with the intention of capping the night off with a handsome stranger who would make you feel things you hadn’t for some time. Courtesy of lame dating advice you found online.
A few shots in, and through the haze of smoke and booze and busy bodies illuminated by an array of colorful lights, you did manage to find the someone that you were hoping for — tall, handsome, oozing so much charisma that it should’ve been a huge red flag. But you weren’t looking for a big sparkly diamond on your ring finger or a tropical honeymoon somewhere with crystal clear waters. You were just looking for someone.
It went surprisingly well, until it didn’t. Until you started sobbing on the dancefloor of a crowded club, in front of a man who looked at you like you were crazy and like he couldn’t wait to make you someone else’s problem then. Until you had to call Taehyung to come pick you up at 3 in the morning when the entire world was dead asleep. All because the stranger had asked Your place or mine? and a sobering thought washed over you, a sharp reminder that home was not somewhere you could return to anymore.
You knew it then, and you know it now, that even though your world once revolved around Jungkook, it doesn’t always have to be. There is life after him. There is still a you after him.
“You would really consider that?” Taehyung asks.
“I mean, I kinda have to at some point. I don’t want to die alone.”
“You’re not going to die alone. You have me.”
You chuckle tiredly. “No, you’ll find someone who is as big of an art geek as you are, and you’ll have lots of babies and grow old together. And I’ll be the kooky lady with 13 dogs who comes around every once in a while to give your children candy.”
Taehyung sets down his empty mug before settling into a comfortable position on the couch, his back against the cushions and his feet propped on the glass surface of the table in front of you. He reaches across the couch to hold your hand. He skirts around the part about the future love of his life.
“13? That’s a specific number,” he comments.
“I like Taylor Swift.”
You both laugh lightly at the reference. Days of badgering him about one of the greatest songwriters of our generation have finally paid off.
Silence envelopes the room for a moment as you both wander off in your own bubble of thought. Until Taehyung knocks his knee against yours and you both fall back into reality again.
“Did Jimin text you about the grand opening on Friday?”
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— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted october 24, 2022]
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rolesplay · 4 months
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・┆✦ON MOURNING — a zayne & fmc fanfic.
Everything feels like a nightmare. It would have been easier if she could cry.
She hadn’t attended a funeral visitation in years. In fact, she doesn’t even remember attending one, ever.
But here she was, having to arrange Grandma’s and Caleb’s. Captain Jenna forcefully put her in a leave, and she couldn’t exactly say no to her boss.
So she stayed. In a small room at the funeral parlor, with only photographs of the deceased—because the explosion and the fire were so bad and nothing was left of her childhood home.
She sat there, received people who offered her condolences. Grandma’s neighbours, Caleb’s associates in Skyhaven, her friends from Linkon University. Tara, good soul that she is, visited almost every day, bringing homecooked meals delivered from her mother. Xavier dropped by, offering nothing but an understanding look. Thomas did too, haphazard in his condolences with an extremely extravagant flower display. And there was Rafayel, who came so late at night and gave her the conch shell he said a seagull would give her.
Amidst all those visitors and well-wishers, no one had noticed: she hadn’t cried at all.
There was a heavy weight in her heart, and she wished so badly that she could, but there were no tears in her eyes. She sat there, pale as a sheet of paper with her mouth pursed, staring at the pictures of Grandma and Caleb. Aghast, befuddled, and mad. So, so mad.
Mad at the suspicious old guy, mad at herself for not even noticing. Mad at herself for surviving.
It’s late night of the visitation, the night before the funeral, when Zayne dropped in. He’s late, they both know it. He should have been there earlier. She wants to blame him, wants to be angry at him, but she can’t. Not when the Wanderer attacks have been happening more frequently and he had to work around the clock.
She gives him a perfunctory smile as she stands up to welcome him instead. “Hey.”
Zayne looks at her as he finishes signing on the logbook. He looks at her in that searching gaze that he always does. ‘Assessing,’ she thinks, because he’s a doctor first and foremost and that’s how he always is.
“Have you gotten enough sleep?” he asks, without so much as a greeting, as they sit side by side.
“I’ll sleep when I get to,” was her non answer.
Everything falls silent. Outside, it rains. She listens to the pitter patter as the house exploded again and again, in her mind’s eye.
Zayne taps her quietly on the arm. Hands her something.
It was a handful of photos. With trembling hands, she takes and looks through them.
“My parents had always loved taking photos, and there were some of you. I thought you’d like seeing them.”
Her childhood. With him, with Caleb, with Grandma. She stops at a photo with her and Caleb and Grandma. It was taken right outside the barbecue restaurant they frequented in their childhood. She remembers this day, because it was Caleb’s birthday, and she’s gifted him a bracelet and grandma gave him a red packet. None of them were related by blood, but it was a family.
“Thank you.” Her voice was strained, hoarse.
Zayne stands up.
She expects him to say goodbye, so she stands up too. She was trembling.
“I’d see you off, then…”
Just as she was about to step away, Zayne, who was behind her, covered her eyes with his hands.
“Zayne?”
“It’s alright to cry, you know.”
His warmth behind her back, the rough but steady hands over her eyes made her slump, releasing the tension on her shoulders.
“Zayne…”
“If no one sees it, it won’t count as crying.”
A sob rips free from her throat, before she can even stop it, and she begins crying, weeping. Loud as can be. The long denied tears came down like torrential flood. She starts yelling, asking, pleading. Why did it have to be them? Why ? Why? Why? It isn’t fair!
Zayne turns her around and buries her into his chest, pulling her into a tight hug, but never once looking at her face. He listens quietly to everything she says, offering no condolences or well wishes. Offering nothing but himself so that she can mourn.
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sirianasims · 8 months
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We had decided to just let things happen naturally after the wedding, and it didn’t take long until I was pregnant.
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We were both overjoyed, and our roommates were excited for us. Griffin immediately started changing our weekly meal plans around the nutritional requirements of pregnant women.
I asked if he was sure he still wanted to be a surgeon and not become a nutritionist instead, but he laughed it off.
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“Freya, don’t be silly. You can do more than one thing with your life! Just look at Daria. Would you tell her to choose whether she wants to only do programming or podcasting or animal rights activism?”
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“You know I’d never dare tell Daria what to do, but I honestly don’t understand how she finds the time.”
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“Exactly, priorities!” Griffin looked at me like he’d just won the discussion and went back to his meal planning.
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I thought about it. Sports had always taken up most of my time, and the rest I spent with friends and family. I didn’t really have any other interests, unless you counted reading a book or watching a movie. Griffin had his cooking, Daria seemed to be doing all the things, and even Jessica had a fashion blog.
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At least Samuel was more like me, we both tended to focus on our careers and family. He wanted to specialise in paediatrics, he really loved working with children.
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He was so excited about becoming a father. He kept flipping between ‘doctor mode’, spewing random facts about child development and asking me how I was feeling, and ‘dad mode’ where he obsessed about names and insisted on talking to my belly in silly voices.
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It was pretty adorable. I couldn’t wait for us to finally meet our baby. We were going to be the best parents ever, together.
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Nothing like my own parents.
I wasn’t even three years old when they split up. My father then proceeded to spend almost five years drinking and whoring his way through a pretty miserable existence.
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Still, most of my memories of him back then were good. Even though he was troubled, he was always so happy to see me, and he always came to my games or picked me up from practice.
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I remembered our trip to Mt. Komorebi vividly. The snowboarding had been amazing, and I loved spending time with my dad.
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But then I had woken up from a nightmare in the big, dark, and unfamiliar house. I had felt very alone.
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I was used to living by the harbour with my mother, used to the constant noise outside.
Here, the thick snow blanketed everything and it was eerily quiet.
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I couldn’t remember how to turn on the lights, so I stumbled into the dark hallway, blinded by tears, only vaguely certain of where my dad’s bedroom was.
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He wasn’t there.
It wasn’t the first time in my life that I’d gone to his bedroom to find it empty, but at home, it just meant that he was downstairs watching TV, or had fallen asleep on the couch with Cooper snuggled up next to him. Here, there was no sound of a TV or any light anywhere. The house felt completely deserted.
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I knew I wasn’t really alone, my grandparents were in their bedroom somewhere downstairs, but I was afraid to go down there. I didn’t even want to go back into the dark hall.
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I curled up on the big, empty bed. Surely, my dad would come. He had to sleep sooner or later.
I don’t remember crying myself to sleep, but I remember waking up.
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My dad had been there, moisture still in his hair, fresh from a shower. With the smell of toothpaste and only the faintest hint of alcohol left on his breath.
I always hated that particular combination of smells.
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He’d promised never to leave me again, and he hadn’t. Much later, I learned that he had started therapy as soon as we got home, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t touched alcohol for over fifteen years now. But I still remembered the smell.
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I put my hands protectively on my growing belly.
“I’m going to do a better job than they did, no matter what it takes”, I whispered.
beginning / previous / next
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ladyshadowsblog · 5 months
Text
Needed comfort.
A drawn and written story with both rehab Asahi & Midnight Dreamer
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After a loud crash that Midnight heard from Asahi's room after he got back from a meeting. He ran to Asahi's room with the thought that the cultists were trying to take Asahi back, once he opened the door he noticed Asahi was there but not laying in bed asleep. Instead he was sitting on the floor knees to his chest; it seemed he hadn't noticed Midnight. He walked up to Asahi and sat down next to him, he then could hear soft cries only to be heard when close.
He sat there for what felt like minutes till he finally said something, Asahi jumped at the voice of Dreamer being right beside him quickly looking next to him in shock. It's very rare that Dreamer goes into that room of Asahi's, he had betrayed him so it was only right for Dreamer to hate him but yet he took Asahi under his wing.
All Asahi could do was tear up, unable to say a word before Dreamer hugged him "Let it all out Asahi, i know your hurting" Dreamer states as Asahi looked down at his knees vision now blurry from tears. He couldn't understand why Dreamer was so persistent that he would care for him and why he wanted to be around him.
So Asahi cried, he cried as if had lost everything. So many emotions, so many questions he couldn't ask in his current state, so many regrets that no apology would help the fate that Blooming Stars faced all those years ago. As Asahi cried, Dreamer moved his tail around him as a way to comfort him, to make him feel safe.
He hated seeing Asahi cry many years ago and he still does even years later. He started to tear up hearing the sobs his old friend was letting out, he wanted to mend a broken relationship that occurred from betrayal. Dreamer sat there hugging Asahi with his own thoughts, one flooding his mind the most was the fact he absolutely hated what those cultists did to Asahi he hated seeing him being destroyed mentally. He hates seeing him cry like he lost everything, like the day when left those flowers for the people of Blooming Stars; Dreamer visited his home land often it was a way of comfort, but he would see Asahi There sometimes leaving flowers for those who passed during the attack seeing Asahi cry and fall to his knees hurt him more then losing his people did that Horrible Day.
It had been almost two hours when Asahi finally calmed down and fell asleep leaning on Dreamer. Dreamer looked down at the sleeping Kitsuné and signed he moved to put him on the bed so he himself could get some much needed rest, but when he moved to get up he noticed Asahi flinch as if having a nightmare so he stayed and used his arms to drag himself & Asahi to lean on the nearby wall. Dreamer was exhausted from the thoughts and memories of the past so it wasn't long till he too fell asleep after but not before he wrapped part of his clock around Asahi as he drifted off to sleep.
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Bonus! Cloudy Sky's design jumpscare
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As Cloud started waking up he very quickly realized Dreamer wasn't in bed with him nor did he come to the bed last night.
He searched the home, looking for his husband who seemed to have just vanished with no warning. He remembered they were taking care of Asahi whilst he recovered and served his time for being part of the attacks and being a cultist as well, so he walked to Asahi's room and quietly opened the door knowing Asahi wasn't up this early in the morning neither was Dreamer hint why he was so alert.
When he opened the door he peaked inside the room and looked around before noticing both Asahi and Dreamer on the floor Dreamer leaning on a wall whilst Asahi lay peacefully sleeping on Dreamer both of them still sleeping peacefully. Cloud smiled, closing the door quietly behind him as he left to his bedroom to catch up on some important paper work whilst the two slept peacefully for the next 3 hours.
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I hope the long awaited Fluff was enjoyed, and you guys got a story out of it so you guys got some good wholesome foor
Dreamer & Cloud belong to me @ladyshadowsblog
Asahi Belongs to the @truelazymaker
Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline
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