#i just wanted to make the second gif but it was ugly without another one (thanks tumblr) đ
he needs to be stopped (source)
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Night Terrors
1.6k homelander x reader. established relationship. pure comfort fic. remaster of this old prompt. very mild spoilers for s4 if you squint. mostly just wanted to self-soothe with some comfort/cuddle fic.
gif credit.
It's been decades since Homelander last stepped foot in The Bad Room, but when he wakes from a nightmare of it in your shared bed, it's as if he never left.
Most of the nights you spend with Homelander are peaceful.Â
Tonight is not most nights.
The scream that wakes you from a dead sleep is guttural, barely human. Homelander is sitting upright, frenzied and wild-eyed, the ocean blue of them obscured by crimson glow. You're not even sure that he sees you through it when he looks at you. He's panting like he just ran a marathon, and the comforter is ripped cleanly in half, the two sides strewn on either side of him.
"John," you call softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he jerks away from your hand like you've burned him.
"Don't fucking touch me," he hisses, wrapping his arms around himself. Sometimes he is small during these fits, curled in on himself, begging you to make it stop. Not tonight. Tonight he is another self, spitting rage and violence through remembered agony. A cornered animal. "I'll fucking kill you!"
"John," you say again, pleading. You know he isn't talking to you. He's speaking to the ghosts of his past. "You're in our bed. You're with me. I would never hurt you. I love you, John."
His name is a double-edged sword. It cuts clean through to something at the core of him in a way that âHomelanderâ doesnât. Each use of it acts like a shock to his irregulated system.
You keep your hands outstretched, but you don't touch him. You show him that you aren't holding anything. Not a pen, not a notepad, not a needle. You show that you don't mean him any harm.Â
God knows he's suffered enough.
With the sound of your voice, the red glow of his eyes gradually dims, flickers, and then finally it goes out entirely. He's still panting, hands moving slowly down his arms, his torso, checking himself for injury. Though his body bears no scars of the pain heâs endured, his mind knows exactly where each one of them would be.
Bit by bit, you watch him come back to himself. He looks around the room, taking in the evidence of your truth. Framed photos, dĂ©cor, the life youâve built together. It isn't a concrete dungeon. It isnât a lab. It isnât an incinerator. It's home.
"Fuck," he says quietly, hiccupping the word into his palm. He says it again, louder, screwing his glassy eyes shut. The third time he says it, it's nearly a sob. Itâs agony to wait, but you donât touch him before heâs ready. You fist the bedsheets, you donât stop talking. Iâm here. Iâm right here. I love you. Youâre safe.
Youâre not sure if itâs minutes or seconds before he reaches for you. All you know is you act immediately. You move swiftly up on your knees, climbing over the ruined blankets to take him into your arms, pulling his head to rest against your chest, bringing his ear close to the beat of your heart. You hush him while you work to unstick the words from your throat, unable to help the tears that well in your eyes.
The fear and misery in him is so palpable, you nearly feel as if itâs your own.
He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap as he weeps against you. It's taken a long time to reach this point. He used to swallow it back like bile, adamant for the longest time that you not see this side of him, this aspect of himself that he thinks ugly, imperfect, broken.
You fought for this. As you hold him through these bone-deep sobs, it shatters you that it's taken him this long for him to find someone who would.
"You're safe," you whisper, battling to keep the tears from your voice. "You're home. You're with me. You're safe. I love you so, so much."
He rocks back and forth, choking on his sobs. âI could feel it,â he tells you, the words barely escaping the clench of his teeth. âIt hurt. Every second of it, and they justâthey all just watched.â
You close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks and disappearing into the softness of his hair. You kiss the crown of his head again and again, combing your fingers through his hair where itâs damp with sweat and your own tears. âYouâre safe now,â you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. It isnât enough, but these words and touches are all you have to offer him against the torment of his childhood.
His grip on you tightens. It wouldnât take much for him to snap you in half.
That scare you? Heâd asked you once. How easily I could break you?â
No, you admitted. It makes me appreciate how hard you try not to.
It takes time for his breathing to even out. His hold softens, but he doesn't relinquish you. For as terrible as the nightmares are, it's the shame he experiences in the aftermath that often requires the most care.Â
You rub firm circles on his back with one hand while cradling the back of his head with the other, trailing butterfly kisses along his temple, his forehead, down to his cheek. Any part of him you can reach, you kiss, murmuring quiet assurances in between, as if to imbue him with each word.
Eventually, the rocking stops. He's breathing more steadily now, arms encircled firmly around your waist. He gives a shaking sigh. "Sorry," he whispers, voice strained. That's a word in his vocabulary that rarely comes up, but when it does, it is always drenched in shame. He hates himself for this.
"Don't," you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. You sniff back your tears, letting out a breath. "I asked for this. I begged you for this," you emphasize, earnest. You cup his face, angling him to look up at you. "Let me do this for you. Please. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
He stares at you with large, watery blue eyes. The whites are red, strained by the force of his grief, his durability tested only by his own power. In his gaze you see damage done to him that may never heal, but your words settle over invisible scars like a soothing balm. Itâs that very look of vulnerability that has driven you to this depth of love. You know his violence, his viciousness, but so too do you know the fragile man it protects.
Most of all, the scared boy beneath it all.
His grip on you flexes, his jaw clenched. The nature of your insight into him is both a blessing and a curse to him. He cannot hide from you. You know his shame, and despite how deeply he needs your compassion, your understanding, itâs something he has to bleed for every time. Heâs perpetually torn between his desperation to be your perfect hero, and his soul-deep yearning to be safely vulnerable.Â
If you have to, you'll spend the rest of your life convincing him that he can have both.
Finally, his shoulders sag. "I love you," he says, quietly defeated by your warmth. "I'll never hurt you. Ever."
You recognize the plea in his words. He's terrified that someday it will be too much. Youâll see what everyone else sees, and your love will be taintedâdestroyedâby your inevitable fear of him. You hope one day that heâll understand why that will never happen. Someday the depths of your love will soak in as deep as the misery of his past, and heâll be able to forgive himself for the human way his godâs heart bleeds.
"I know. I know that.â You kiss the top of his head, still rubbing his back, taking your hand away only to swipe the tears from your face. âI love you, too. Every part of you."
Even the parts you hate.
Gingerly, he lifts you just enough to lay you back down on the bed. He wastes no time cuddling back in against you, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. The bedding is ruined, but he runs warm enough that you hardly notice the absence of cover while heâs holding you.
Your legs tangle with his, bodies slotting together easily. He nuzzles as if he can worm his way closer than skin to skin. If you could, youâd open your ribcage to welcome him inside. He could eat your heart if it kept his beating another day.
"Will you... talk me to sleep?" He asks, threads of shame lingering in the request. The tension has drained away, leaving him vulnerable and exhausted. His blinks are slow, the curve of his lips mournful.
"Of course," you whisper, smoothing your hand up and down his back. This isnât the first time youâve talked him back to sleep, and you doubt itâll be the last. Sometimes you tell him the plot of a book as best you can recall, other times it's random anecdotes from your life. Sometimes it's complete nonsense.
To him, it doesn't matter what you say. All that matters is that when he does finally drift back into sleep, it's your voice that safeguards him there.Â
Gladly, he rests his head back down on your chest, closing his eyes with a rumbling sigh while your nails drag along his scalp. You cradle him there, savoring the warmth of him as it seeps into the marrow of your bones, the weight of him grounding you.
You tell him stories until sleep finds him. Even then, you continue to speak until your voice frays and you can no longer keep your eyes open. You speak and speak and speak hoping that somehow, in some small way, you can help make up for the years he spent with only his own voice for comfort.
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Jealousy, Jealousy - Spencer Reid
Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Spencer and reader are both BAU agents in a secret relationship and a charity gala has reader tired of hiding.
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Trying something different with the first person perspective here! bc of that I did have to use y/n twice so sorry for that lol. This is later seasons but pre-prison Spencer, so heâs a little more sure of himself and in return more dominant without being fully there. I promise Iâm working on a few sub!spencer fics right now but I stumbled across this old fic of mine while going through my past works and I was dying to rework it because I wasnât happy with what it was before lol.
TW: jealousy, angst, kissing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, afab reader, use of âgirlâ in reference to reader.
Rating: R, 18+ only please!
ââ
Weâd already been here for three hours and I was growing weary watching Spencer make awkward conversation with every person at this charity gala. There were hundreds of people neither of us knew in this room, but bureaucratic duty required the both of us to make small talk with everyone no matter the department. Heaven knows Spencer didnât have any intention beyond professional with these people, and I certainly didnât either as it came with the territory of being BAU agents, but somehow I couldnât help but find the jealous side of me rearing its ugly head with every attractive colleague that looked his way.
Iâd kept my distance, allowing him the space he needed to not seem too attached. I knew how important it was that everyone assumed we were both single, interpersonal relationships between agents arenât exactly looked highly upon here. Still, watching him talk the ear off of another woman had that familiar blossom of insecurity blooming in my chest. No matter how clueless he was, I knew just how many women and men in our professional vicinity would risk a lot to be with Spencer, and they figured that maybe given the right set of circumstances, perhaps theyâd have the opportunity. He never gave them that privilege of course, even though we werenât public with our relationship, we knew what we were, and he never betrayed that trust.
Still, as he was approached by a particularly tall, gorgeous redhead I found myself growing more and more jealous. He said something and she laughed a little too hard, laying her right hand on his bicep and tossing her hair over her shoulder with the other, and the green eyed monster returned, fiercer than ever. A tear slipped down my cheek as I watched, but I quickly wiped it away, fighting to keep my composure.
When he finally broke away from her, I made my way through the sea of elegantly dressed attendees, whispering his name to catch his attention. He turned to me, features softening as he registered my features.
âIs something wrong?â He asked, concern lacing his tone.
âIâm not feeling well, Iâm going to head home.â I told him, forcing a reassuring smile so as not to worry him.
âWould you like me to come with?â He whispered, brushing his hand against my arm, just as the redhead had done to him. Such a simple, loving gesture, and the thought of someone who was not me doing it to him made my blood boil. I shook my head, giving him one last look of reassurance before gathering the top of the skirt of my overly detailed gown in my hands and making my way out of the ballroom and ordering an uber.
When I got back to his apartment, I kicked my heels off haphazardly the second the door locked behind me before stumbling to his bedroom. I donât know why Iâd come back to his apartment, I shouldâve gone to mine, but I didnât want to. I was sick of the hiding, the secrecy. I wanted him. I wanted to live with him. I wanted to be with him.
I reached around to the zipper on the back of my dress, roughly pulling it down halfway before it got caught, the expensive fabric bunching under the hardware. I pulled as hard as I could, desperate to get out of the increasingly suffocating garment, but my attempts seemed in vain as the zipper stayed put.
All the emotions Iâd been holding in throughout the night boiled to the surface, showing themselves in the form of hot, frustrated tears. I collapsed face first onto the bed, letting the plush bedding consume me as I folded my arms beneath my cheek, feeling the wetness gather against my skin. I let it all out, quiet sobs wracking my body as I groveled in my jealousy, the physical pain of the restrictive fabric only doubling my emotions.
I didnât know how long Iâd been laying there, but his hand on my shoulder broke me out of the jealousy fueled haze Iâd been locked in.
âY/n? Why didnât you go home? Whatâs wrong?â His voice sounded fuzzy as I quickly stood to face him, wiping away my tears.
âI donât want to go back there Spencer, I want here to be home. Iâm not home if Iâm not with you. Iâm so sick of hiding. I want to be yours.â I blurted, too overwhelmed to think about what I was confessing.
âYou are mine.â He whispered.
âI donât believe you.â I responded.
âThereâs no one else y/n, you know that.â He continued, but it did little to calm me.
âAll those women at the gala, touching you, flirting with you. I donât want to have to sit back and watch it anymore. I die a little every time I see it.â
âY/n, you know I donât-â
âI know! You donât enjoy any of it, I get that, but they do! They want you, Spencer, and I canât bare the thought of losing you to one of them.â I confessed, tears welling in my eyes again.
âThat wonât happen.â He said, a kind of sureness in his tone.
âHow do I know that?â I asked.
âBecause youâre the only one I want. Youâre the only one that understands me for who I really am. I donât care about them, not the way I care about you. Iâve never cared about anyone as much as I care about you.â
âI love you, y/n.â It rolled off his tongue as if they were the truest words heâd ever spoken, and as he placed his hands on my hips I practically melted under his touch.
âI love you too.â I breathed, looking up at him doe-eyed, lip quivering as I held back the tears of contentment fighting to escape my waterline.
âIâm yours.â He whispered, pulling me into him before crashing his lips to mine. I turned to putty in his hands, hanging on his every touch as he pulled away and spun me around, large hand resting on my exposed shoulder as the other worked carefully to untangle my zipper, finally allowing the fabric of the gown to fall from my frame.
His lips met my neck, sucking hungrily against my blushed skin and I brought my hand to rest in his brunette curls, holding him steadily against me. He pressed his hips flush against my lower back, his member growing hard as he marked my neck, drawing his swollen lips over the purple patches forming across the sensitive skin of my neck.
I whimpered as he nipped at my pulse point, nimble fingers undoing my bra before letting it join my gown on the floor, immediately cradling my breasts in his soft grip. I rolled my hips back against him, earning a deep groan as my free hand moved to palm him through his fitted slacks.
âLet me prove how devoted I am to you.â He breathed, spinning me back around before laying me slowly onto the bed. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as he removed his suit jacket, then undid the buttons of his dress shirt one by one, maintaining eye contact as he undid his belt and dropped his pants and underwear, leaving him bare for me to take in.
He knelt at the edge of the bed, taking my ankles in his grip before parting my legs, placing a soft kiss to the small dip on the inside of my ankle. He looked up at me, his gaze never leaving my face as I watched him plant wet kiss after wet kiss up the expanse of my leg before repeating the action on the other, the intimate act arousing me more and more by the second.
When he finally reached my left upper thigh, he lingered, drawing his tongue over the apex of my thigh to my panties, licking a flat stripe over the soaked panel of fabric, drawing a panting moan from my throat. He locked eyes with me, placing a kiss over my clit before taking the waistband between his teeth and letting it slap back against my hip, earning a whimper from me.
He gripped either side of my hips, taking my underwear in hand before pulling them slowly down my legs and discarding them across the room.
I watched transfixed as he kissed his way up my body, leaving soft magenta marks blooming like peonies over my damp skin, paying special attention to my breasts.
âYouâre perfect.â He mumbled, tongue tracing around my nipple as I blushed at his words.
âI want to devour every inch of you.â He continued, taking the stiff peak gently between his teeth and tugging, sending a delicious mix of pain and pleasure to every nerve ending in my chest.
âThen do it.â I gasped, relaxing back into the bed. He hummed against me, flicking his tongue over my breast as his other hand slid between my thighs, cupping my cunt. He dipped his index finger to part my folds, already swollen and sticky and dripping with need. I wanted him, and although this certainly was not the first time weâd had sex, I was finally going to have him, all of him.
âSo wetâŠâ He trailed off, dragging his mouth up the expanse of my neck before drawing me into a kiss, deep and warm and full of a fire Iâd never felt from him before. Itâs like his confession had set something free in him, torn down a wall or two, uncaged the animal of desire within him.
âAll for you.â I whimpered, pulling him down into another kiss.
He pressed two fingers in slow, pressured circles against my swollen clit, his full lips swallowing every last one of my needy moans and whimpers. Any other night I wouldâve reveled in it, secretly loved the slow burn of his teasing, but I was far too emotional for that tonight, and I couldnât put up with not having him inside of me anymore.
âI need you.â I whined, rutting my hips up into him.
âWhat do you want me to do, my love?â He asked. I huffed, knowing the game he was playing.
âPlease Spence, I need you inside of me. Fuck me, show me what I mean to you.â I practically moaned as he continued rubbing harsh circles against my clit.
âThatâs my girl, always so eager.â He praised, snaking his hands around the back of my thighs and lifting to wrap my legs around his hips.
He rubbed himself slowly through my folds, properly coating his cock with my slick before aligning the head at my slit, ready and inviting him in. He pushed slowly into me, a low groan slipping from his clenched jaw as he savored every inch of my wet heat and I met him with a tight embrace, gasping at the way he filled me.
Iâd never felt so connected before, like I could feel him in every fiber of my being and as he was seated fully inside of me I felt whole, like we were made for each other.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before he pulled almost completely out, pausing before pushing back in, my wetness making it almost embarrassingly easy. He angled his hips upward, knowing how quickly Iâd crumble beneath him with the repeated brush of his cock against that soft spot inside of me.
He looked down at me, a certain warmth spreading over his dilated pupils as he halted his hips and opened his kiss-swollen lips to speak.
âItâs only you. Forever.â He purred, pushing the stray hair from my face before kissing my temple and pistoning his hips forward, punctuating his words with a deep thrust.
Each roll of his hips against mine had my muscles contracting, pulling him closer in every way, never wanting this to end. His rhythm remained steady as he picked up his pace, driving the pressure building inside of me ever closer to bursting.
I snaked one of my hands into his hair, gripping tight as the other found his bicep, matching my grip. I needed to hold him, to feel him, to know that having him here like this wasnât all a dream. His groans and pants filled the thickening air, like a melody in my ear, mingling with my own and the almost feral âmineâ that ripped from his throat on a particularly hard thrust had me crying out for him, clawing at his arm as he repeated the intensity.
I was close, so close and as I felt his cock twitch inside of me I knew he was too. I locked my ankles around his hips, holding him inside of me as he rolled his hips quickly, head dropping onto my shoulder. The continued stimulation of that spot, the sweet spot inside of me only he could hit became too much, bringing stars to my eyes as I cried out his name, euphoria so strong I couldnât feel my legs as I dug my nails so hard into his arm that I had surely drawn blood.
âIâm yours.â He groaned, hips faltering as he filled me, my cunt still pulsing around him with every spurt of warm cum.
Everything after that was a blur of being held in his arms, whispered I love youâs, and gentle caresses.
âWeâll go to HR as soon as possible, I donât care what paperwork they want us to fill out or how much shit weâll get from Morgan, I want everyone at that gala tonight to know that I love you.â He broke the silence, his words a final cementing comfort.
No more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more secrets. Only the two of us.
ââ
Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden
DM me or send me an ask if youâd like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)
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Yandere Witch /// Part 2
Part 1
The great part about Rhiana the Witchâs cozy cottage outside that small town was the privacy. Not just when her most wriggly meals ran; but because it was purposefully hidden. The faerie circles just outside the town messed with maps and satellites making her little place a safe haven from the enemies and ex-lovers experiments sheâd made over her many centuries of being alive. But now that she was leaving to get closer to you, she was uncomfortably exposed.Â
âHey Rhi-Rhi you okay? Youâve looked so nervous since I picked you up.â
âOh Iâm fine itâs just all these people make me so nervous.â
âI guess it is kind of overwhelming.â
âMaybe you can take me somewhere private. Like your place maybe?â
She thinks itâs worth the risk as sheâs allowed to use the same excuse to cling to your side. Pretend to be distraught when she gets hit on to have you pretend to be dating to drive off desperate and confident weirdos. She eats that up. Unfortunately though, her open fawning over you leaves her unguarded from soul searches. An old technique lovers of olde used to unite over long periods. Naturally, trouble just happens to be in the 500-meter radius and is well off enough to get in close to foil her plans.
âHello there. Iâm your new neighbor. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone since Iâm completely new to the area.â
âOh hi, nice to meet you! Iâm (Y/n) and this is Rhiââ
â(Y/n) you donât have to introduce me Iâm only visiting.â
âThatâs such a shame Rhiana. I wouldâve hoped we couldâŠget to know each other better.â
Trouble is one of her craziest exesâNarciness. He was a nymph and she was a witch. Back then, it made sense that they were perfect for one another. Both were a gorgeous couple, immortal and with plenty of magic. Not to mention he didnât even mind that she ate humans for her youthful appearance. But it just wasnât right for Rhea. Just as his name would suggest there was a deep-seated and well-masked narcissism that showed its ugly head at the worst times. She ultimately took the very mature option that sheâs learned over the centuries when it comes to major obstacles. She ran.Â
âNice to see you again Rhiana. Itâs always nice to know my girlfriend decided to disappear from me the last few centuries!â
âQuit whining. I left you a note didnât I?â
âA note cursed to explode with a memory-wipe spell the second I finished it. If I didnât know any better Iâd say you were trying to leave me.â
âOh genius, youâre finally getting it!â
âThat canât be right! You and IâŠweâre perfect together! And you instead cheat on me with the most imperfect human!â
âDo not ever talk about my (Y/n) like that!â
Sheâs almost glad heâs crazy enough not to hide his intentions. Had he been cut from the same cloth as she-she would have kept silent until after she devoured her prey. But Narciness is an idiot who so clearly had it out for you that she wouldnât let him live another day without singing your praises. Unfortunately, the thing about killing a nymph is that it wasnât easy, a child of the old powers of nature. Heâs survived a lot of things and can withstand some of Rheaâs most fatal potions. And especially when sheâs far from home spending time with you, sheâs a little shorthanded. So sheâll come up with another remedy.Â
âHey Narc, I didnât know you went shopping here.â
âI think instead of solely getting the organic stuff I figured Iâd swing by here every once in a while. The gallery is truly immaculate.â
âGood for you. Câmon (Y/n) weâre going to miss our movie.â
âOh right! Well, it was nice seeing you, Narc!â
âOh (Y/n) before you go, there's something I wanted to tell you.â
âWhat?â
âI just love your smile.â
âOh, thanks !â
âLetâs go, (Y/n).â
The thing she found that sparked her attraction to him was his smile. It lit up the room like yours and in the end, itâll be what protects you from his violent protections of âtheir relationshipâ. Unfortunately, now that sheâs used a spell to shift his affection sheâll have to figure out some way to end his life before he turns violent against her. Too bad itâll be hard to figure out in the span of two days. Now she can miss her plane and extend her stay a little while but itâs just not enough time. Not enough time for her to make sure âNarcâ doesnât try anything, sheâll have to do something drastic.Â
âNarciness I was hoping we could find some common ground.â
âWith you? Babe, didnât I tell you I was done? Your old news.â
âFor you, I might be but Iâm the hottest thing in (Y/n)âs world.â
â...I see. So weâre officially competing then. Would you like to fight this out now?â
âIâd like to try something new. A gesture of peace, if you will.â
â...oven mitts? You plan to make me bake? Why would I concern myself with such a lowly task?â
âDid I tell you (Y/n) has a sweet tooth?â
â...â
Rhea the Witch considers herself lucky her ex considered cooking for himself as a job for âsomeone uglier than him.â Sheâs also glad she gets to stay another day due to food poisoning. Who knew nymphs gave witches so much nausea?
âOh Rhea were you eating that bloody meat again? I keep telling you that rare steak is great but you got to make sure itâs at least cooked a little bit.â
âI know hon. I should really think about maintaining my diet better.â
âYeah, Iâm just glad this is happening now. Instead of on a plane or bus where I wouldnât be there for you.â
âYesâŠ(Y/n) what do you think about me staying another week or so. So many things keep happening, it feels as though fate is telling me.â
She may have some serious indigestion but you were hers and the threat wasâŠtoast. For Rhea, her reward was being pampered by you. Finally able to rest with her love by her side. Nothing was better and nothing could bother her. Not even the distant thought of the new owner to the place next door.Â
âI noticed your plants. Iâm not a huge fan of nature but maybe you can show me the ropes. What do you say, neighbor?â
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Kildare Split Part Four: in another life
Rafe Cameron x reader
Chapter 4: in another life
Note: Here's part four!! I'm still crying over TTPD. Down bad is so incredibly Rafeit's insane. Anyway!! I love you all so much, thank you for reading and being absolutely wonderful. This part covers the smau up until part 26. Good luck soldiers!!
Warnings: none, not edited, angst, swearing, sadness, julio, mentions of drugs, mentions of suicidal ideation.
Word Count: Â 6,722
Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
Chapter 4: in another lifeÂ
Itâs a nightmare. Everything feels off. The walls are caving in. His mouth feels as if he had chewed on cotton balls for the past hour. Itâs spinning. Heâs lost control of himself and he doesnât know how heâll get it back.Â
It started because of the thought of them together. Forever. Married. Having kids and living happily ever after clawed and his chest and ate him from the inside out. It was an ugly feeling. He wanted to be happy for her. There was no way he could be. Not when he was so deeply in love with her. Not that he ever stopped.Â
It was just one blunt. He stole it from Barry. He was careful not to disturb any of the other drugs he had in there. Careful not to look at them too long. Heâs been good. Has been clean for more than two years without any missteps. And here he is high once again. Itâs just weed he tells himself. Itâs fine. Heâs fine.Â
Theyâre about to go onstage when Sofia loses her mind. She goes absolutely ballistic. Heâs pulling her off to the side away from prying eyes.
âStop. Relax. Let me explain.â Everything comes out in a jumble as heâs trying to balance his damn guitar and get her to stop flailing her arms everywhere.Â
âThereâs no explaining anything. We are over. We are so done, Rafe. Holy shit I cannot believe I put up with your crazy obsession with your friend who by the way you didnât even date. Youâre insane.âÂ
âCan you calm down for a second?â
âNo! For your information Rafe. She doesnât want you! Sheâs moved on! And we could have too but no. Youâre here still pining over something that doesnât exist. You are so incredibly disrespectful to me. I have been nothing but supportive of you. And I have put up with so much shit from you so much hatred because what? Did I take you away from her? You chose me! You left her. And now Iâm leaving you.âÂ
âSofia-â
âThe way you have treated me the last couple of months with your album release and hinting that itâs about her? Do you have any idea how that makes me look? How it makes me feel? You donât care about anyone but yourself.â
âThatâs not true.â
âOh! Sorry! You and her! And barely even yourself, you know how I know?â She looks at him, volcanic ash in her eyes. âBecause youâre fucking high right now!â
âKeep your voice down.â He pulls her deeper into the corner theyâre standing in.
âFuck you, Rafe. I loved you. I did. I thought that once she moved on, we would be okay. I was wrong. Do not sabotage this for her. Sheâs happy. Youâre not good enough for her. And not for me.â
She does a 180 and storms off away from backstage and away from him. He looks up and Topper is staring at him from where he stands beside Sarah, her hand is on his arm, a look of concern on her face. He shakes his head at them and turns to the stairs that lead to the stage. He spots Y/N and Julio, theyâre talking quietly to each other, he sees her laugh and touch Julioâs face, and he kisses the palm of her hand.
Fuck this. He runs back to the green room. He knows he left it around here somewhere and he knows where the lighters are. He digs through three of Barryâs jackets before he finds the blunt. Barry must have moved it. When he pulls it out, a plastic baggie with four white pills comes up with it. He thinks about putting them back. He wants to put them back. He hears the 5-minute warning, stuffs the baggie in his jeans and runs to find a lighter.Â
+++
Thereâs something off about Rafe. She notices when they begin their second song. Heâs swaying more than usual, coming up and singing to her face a little too closely.Â
It must be because theyâre trying to be friends. And maybe the fight with Sofia. It was pretty nasty the way she went at him. She couldnât make out what they were saying, the crowd and music drowning them out. Sofia looked upset. She must have cooled off because sheâs in the audience standing next to Sarah. Not that their manager would allow her to leave even if she wanted to. It would cause too much speculation online and thatâs something they donât need more of.Â
She hasnât had to protect Julio from how Rafe and her used to act on stage, during their no-talking years, they still put on an act but it was nowhere near the level of how they acted pre-everything. They were pretty heavy on the PDA, without confirming anything of course. It was more like singing into each other's mics while staring longingly into each otherâs eyes. A lot of heavy petting, she would drape herself around Rafe, Rafe would swing her around and carry her. They would practically make out on stage every show. They did everything but have sex. Itâs no wonder the theories and rumours started.Â
Post everything that went down, they tamed it and kept it to their side of the stage unless they were switching over. They didnât share a mic and looking at each other too long was off-limits. And now, well now, it looks like Rafe wants to sing into her mouth with the way he gets closer and closer. Julio knows about their past and he knows that she would never do anything to hurt him but this is a little much. She doesnât want to rub anything in his face or make him feel disrespected. She also canât diss Rafe on stage. They have an act. Theyâre all best friends and nothing bad has ever happened between them.Â
So she plays along. And she sings into his mic, she whips her hair in his face and he sings over her shoulder. Theyâre closer than theyâve ever been. This should be a fun one to look at online. At some point, her shirt comes off. Sheâs a little angry at Rafeâs immediate switch-up. She feels that since theyâre just figuring out how to be friends, he could give it a rest and not go all out. So her shirt comes off. It got stuck on the mic stand, she got pissed off that it ripped a little and she took it off, throwing it into the crowd. At some point Rafe is not even fully on the stage anymore, heâs lying down looking up at her as he plays his guitar. Sheâs standing over him, singing into the mic and playing the bass all while wondering what the hell has gotten into him.Â
Security is going insane over Rafe hanging off the stage and people are trying to grab his legs. Sarah is diving into the crowd trying to get a shot of whatâs happening on stage. She kind of wants the show to be over but at the same time, itâs the most fun sheâs had on stage in a while.Â
+++
Trying to find their footing after not being friends for three years, that much is clear. One moment heâs trying to make out with her onstage and the next he can barely look at her. It has been a little bit harder than she thought it would be.Â
Itâs strangely painful. The realization that they canât go back to how they were before anything happened. She knew it wouldnât be easy but these awkward silences might kill her.Â
Sheâs sitting between Topper and Rafe, staring directly at Barryâs bored face as Ash explains who kows what. Something about which celebrities and important label heads are coming to tonightâs show.Â
She didnât care about the label heads. One of their most important shows had been the one two days ago. Their friends had all flown in from different places to see them. Now back in the city she calls home, thatâs still all that matters.Â
Cleo and Pope flew in from New York, John B and JJ had flown in from Hawaii. JJ would be leaving almost immediately after to continue training for the next big surf competition and John B would be staying at Sarahâs. Julio was at her house, she didnât want him to have to spend the entire day at rehearsals so she told him to come by when he was ready. Ward was around somewhere too, probably with Sarah and John B. Kelce was at his hotel and would be arriving later with Kie after he got her from the airport, the only one that had missed the last show. It was an important show for them because of their people not because of some random celebrity they didnât know.Â
After the show, they would go to one of their favourite bars to celebrate and then she would be off to North Carolina for a week before moving to Madrid for the foreseeable future.
She was so excited to be there a bit before Julio started filming so they could visit his friends and family.Â
After Ash is done running them through the guest list, they have some downtime before their private soundcheck and the fan soundcheck. Fan Soundcheck is her favourite because they get to play some deep cuts and answer some fun questions.
Theyâre standing backstage as one of their stagehands announces theyâll be out in three minutes. Theyâre standing in a circle making sure that their in-ears are on. Barry and Topper bickering about some random thing.
âReady, buddy?â She looks at Rafe, her eyebrow raised as Barry laughs.Â
âBuddy? Good one.â Topper laughs as Rafeâs face turns red.Â
âOkay yeah, Iâll never say that again.â
âPlease,â she laughs, âletâs go.â She leads the guys onto the stage as their fans start screaming.Â
They play a song right off the bat and then sit down for a few questions.Â
Everything is going fine, the mood is great, theyâre all vibing with each other on stage, itâs great. Right up until itâs not.Â
âHi, my name is Sammy, my question is for Y/N.â She smiles at the girl and waves.Â
âHi Sammy, I remember you! You saw our last show too,â she speaks into the microphone.Â
âHi! Oh my goodness yes. I drove here from San Francisco after getting tickets last minute.â The girl rambles. âOkay, so I was wondering, what are you most looking forward to doing on your break?â She mulls over the question before answering.Â
âIâm going to be semi-moving to Spain for a while so probably just exploring the city.â Sammy nods and thanks her as the mic is passed to the next person. Â
Something shifts on stage after that question. She doesnât know if she missed something or what, but suddenly the mood is tense. Barryâs in between her and Rafe and she can still feel the tension coming off him in waves.Â
After the last question, they played one more song and bid the fans goodbye, telling them they would see them in a few hours for the show.Â
Barry goes and does whatever Barry does before a show, Rafe storms off and Topper follows him. She looks over at her guitar tech who just shrugs his shoulders and takes her guitar from her.Â
She texts Julio asking when he will be getting to the arena. When she doesnât receive an answer, she sits in the green room, with no idea where the boys are.Â
She dozes off for an hour before her phone blows up with texts from Rafe. She opens Julioâs message first, telling her that he would leave her house in an hour. Then she goes to Rafeâs texts, saying something along the lines of needing to talk to her. She sees that she has notifications from Twitter as well and opens those. From Rafe too.Â
âI need youâ
âPlease donât goâ
âY/Nâ
What is he doing? They just talked about trying to be friends, she knows about his feelings but he canât go around blowing up her phone. Heâs just sad about Sofia, how could he expect her to stay after he confessed to her that he still had feelings for his ex who wasnât really his ex?Â
She asks him what heâs doing and he asks to meet her. She tells him no, and that itâs too late to d this. Too late in the day, too late because the show is about to start, and too late because sheâs going and she doesnât want him.Â
After telling Cleo to haul ass to the arena. Needing to speak to her about the Rafe of it all. She runs to the bus to hide. She doesnât want to see him so sheâll avoid the arena.Â
She doesnât think about how if he doesnât find her inside, heâll look for her on the bus.Â
âY/N?â She hears him call. Sheâs in her bunk, curtain drawn and holding her breath. He walks closer and stands in front of her bunk. She can see his shadow.Â
âI know youâre in there.â She stays quiet still. âPlease talk to me.â She sighs, not able to deny him when he sounds so sad.Â
She draws the curtain open and meets his eyes.Â
âWe talked about this.â
âNo, we talked about how I would try to be your friend. Not how youâre going to move away with your boyfriend.â
âWhat did you expect me to do? Sit at home alone for however long the break ends up being?â
âNo, I thought we could hang out when we were both home and repair our friendship or whatever.â
âRafe, I canât do that. I wonât put my life on hold for you anymore.â
âWhy are you doing this? Why canât you just feel the same way? Why wonât you love me?âÂ
Sheâs surprised by his words. For the first time, she looks at him. Takes in his dishevelled appearance, his jittering hands, and the dilation of his pupils.Â
âAre you high?ïżœïżœ she swings herself off her bed to get as much distance between them as possible.Â
âNo.â Heâs lying.Â
âWhat the fuck Rafe? Why would you do this to yourself?â
âBecause Iâm fucking sad okay? And I donât want to feel anything.â She canât believe he would go down this road again, after being clean for so long. She canât believe he would be around her like this. Not when he knows how many bad memories it brings.
âYou have to leave. You have to get away from me.â
âY/N.â His voice cracks.
âNo. You know my history, the shit I have been through because of drugs. You know it very well actually. I donât need to be around your erratic behaviour. Itâs triggering, it hurts me.â Her voice is firm.Â
âOkay. Iâm sorry.â he backs up turning around quickly and storming off the bus.Â
She sits back down, her hands slightly shaking. If heâs using again, she doesn't know if she can have him in her life.Â
+++
Heâs happy Sarahâs the one that finds him. Heâs spread out on the floor. The curtain covers him from the fans' curious eyes. The stage is quiet, with only a few people coming and going. The rest of the crewâs at dinner.Â
âWhat are you doing?â She stares from above him.
âLaying.â He mumbles
âAre you not going to come eat dinner?â She points behind her in the direction of the lunch room.
âNot hungry.â
âWhatâs wrong?
âSad.â He sees the annoyance at his one-word answers cross her face.Â
âRafe, full sentences please.â
âY/N told me to go away. That she couldnât be around me.â She crouches down next to him.Â
âI thought you two were trying to be friends?â she questions.Â
âI ruined it.â He can feel himself well up.Â
âHow?â
âBy being high.â
âYou are not.â she kneels left to him now, grabbing his face roughly and bringing it so his eyes are aligned with hers.Â
âI am.â She looks angry at him. He feels tears start to gather. God, why does he make the women he cares most about in his life so upset?
âYou canât be high. Youâre an addict.â
âJust weed. Nothing more.â
âI donât care if itâs just weed. Itâs not just weed for you. Itâs a slippery slope. You go from weed to forgetting youâre sober, to cocaine.â
âIâm sorry.â The pity in her look makes his stomach twist.
âLetâs go get you cleaned up before the show. You need food and to sober up.â
âIâll be sad though.â She stands up, extending her hand out for him to take.Â
âYouâre high and sad, I donât think it helped.â
âThatâs what the cocaine is for.â He jokes, it doesnât earn him a laugh, just a scowl.
âDonât even joke about that.â
Maybe he can get drunk after the show, then heâll forget how sad he is.Â
+++
The show goes off without a hitch. They are all smiles, dripping with sweat as they take the final bow of the tour. Tears are prickling her eyes as she looks over at Topper. His smile was big and shining. She looks at Rafe and heâs messing with Barryâs hair, a burst of laughter leaving him as Barry jumps on his back. Barry waves to the crowd as Rafe piggybacks him off. Topper grabs her hand and pulls her off the stage, waving one last time before they canât be seen anymore.Â
Julio waits for her, a huge grin on his face and his arms wide open for her to run into. Once she lets go of him, she hugs Cleo and then Pope, and then sheâs tackled by JJ, Kie, and John B.Â
âYou all killed it!â JJ yells in her ear, making her jolt back.Â
âFucking best show weâve ever played!â Topper screams, coming up to her and hugging her. Barry joins the hug putting his sweaty arms around them both. Rafe hesitantly joins the group hug.Â
âAnother successful tour,â he says, his eyes catching hers in the huddle. She smiles softly.Â
âLetâs go party!â Kie screams from down the hallway where sheâs started to walk away.Â
Everyone starts cheering and following her lead. She finds Julioâs hand as they make their way to gather their stuff and leave the arena.Â
+++
He spots Julio come in through the back doors of the club, Y/N hanging off his arm, her lips swollen. His eyes soften when he looks at her. He sees how much he loves her, and how he would never hurt her. He would go to the ends of the world for her. And he hates him. He canât stand that sheâs not hanging off his arm. That heâs not the one kissing her against a brick wall outside a sleazy bar.Â
Sofiaâs gone. Theyâre done. And heâs hurting for the relationship that he could have had if he had let go of Y/N. Not that he ever could have. It wasnât in the cards for him. A world where he wasnât irrevocably in love with her didnât exist.Â
âYou okay?â Sarah comes up next to him, planting her hands on the table to steady herself.Â
âIâm high again.â He confesses.Â
âRafe, we talked about this.â
âI get that I just canât stop. Everything hurts.â They look of pity from earlier returns.
âYou need to stop.â He looks past her to where Y/N is.
âItâs just weed.â
âYou donât get to do weed. Itâs not just weed to you. Slippery slope remember?
âI know.âÂ
âIâm here for you. I think you need to go back to rehab. Either before you tour or after. It needs to be sooner rather than later. Iâll drive you there myself.â She offers.Â
The idea of going back to rehab irks him. Heâs not as bad as he was last time. He has control over it. At least thatâs what he tells himself.Â
âI donât know how to be okay watching her be with someone else.â Sarah looks behind her at Y/N with Julio. Her smile lit up the room. Her laugh was music to his ears.Â
âYou donât get to break down about this. You made your choice. Let her be happy. you need to focus on staying sober, you heal, and you move on.âÂ
âHow?â He canât rip his eyes away from the couple. Wishing with everything in him that it was him with her.
âBy being her friend, Rafe.â She pats him on the back. He watches as she follows Topper out the back door where Y/N and Julio had come through earlier.Â
Everything he and Sarah talked about flies out the window when Julio of all people see him standing there with a little bag full of who knows what that Barry gave him. Barryâs drunk and high, thatâs one of the only reasons he gave it to him. Barry would kill him any other time.Â
Heâs been toying around with the idea of just doing it. Taking all these pills and getting it over with.Â
âYou probably shouldnât take those.â Rafe side glances at him but doesnât speak.â
âIf youâre doing that shit you shouldnât be around her.â Rafe doesnât like him and he likes him even less when he tells him if he can or canât be around Y/N.
âMind your business.â He barks out.
âThis is my business, you know why? Because sheâs my business. And sheâs a recovering addict too, Rafe. Or did you forget?â He shrugs.Â
âLook, I donât care if you care about your sobriety. But we both know you care about her enough not to risk hers. So if youâre going to do that shit, donât bring it around her. And stay away from her.â This is the angriest he has ever heard the dark-haired man.Â
âDonât fucking tell me what to do on my tour with my friends.â Deep down he knows Julioâs right. Right now he doesnât care what the man says. He wants to fight him.Â
âDo whatever the hell you want with yourself, Iâm asking you to please, stay away from Y/N if youâre going to do drugs.â
âSo youâre isolating her now too.â
âWhat does that mean?â Julio looks at him, one eyebrow raised, lips tight.
âYouâre going to take her away. Youâre taking her away from her family and her friends, to live in a country where she knows nobody. What kind of boyfriend does that?âÂ
âIâm taking her away from you, right?âÂ
âYeah, you are.â The words spill from him before he can even think of denying them.Â
âShe isnât anyoneâs to take away. She makes her own decisions and she chose to be with me.â Julio saying shit like that makes him feel like he thinks heâs the best option. The best man out there.
âShut up. Youâre not better than me just because you say that stuff.â
âIâm not better than anyone, just let her be.â He doesnât say anything. Julio stands up.
âYou had your chance. Let her go.â He stays quiet. Julio starts to walk away.Â
âI canât.â He sees as Julioâs steps stutter.
âIâm going to fight for her.âÂ
âThereâs nothing left to fight for.â He walks away. Back into her arms. Where he wishes he could be.
+++
The two weeks back home in Kildare were filled with press and interviews. Filled with people asking them when the next album was and when they would be back. He was scheduled to go to rehab after two weeks back home but due to scheduling, they had to move his tour up. Y/N was already in Spain. She spent a bit of time with her family, made sure everything was good and then flew off to Europe, taking his heart with her.
They were okay again, he had explained that he would go to rehab and try to get himself under control again. She told him that she was proud of him and that she wished him all the best. She told him that she wouldnât be able to make it to his first show but that she would be there for his last. She hugged him goodbye on her last day on the island and told him that he would see her soon.Â
The engagement scare still circulated in his brain. Heâs so afraid that she would get engaged while she was away and he would truly lose her forever. Whenever he thought about it he felt like throwing up.Â
One month. One month and he would see her again.Â
+++
She stayed with Julioâs family for three weeks in Madrid before they had to go to Valencia where he had to film. She liked being in Madrid the most because she knew how to get around and she could stay at Julioâs house. In Valencia, theyâre staying in a hotel so she doesnât have the comfort of her things. Sheâll go to the set with him most of the time but other times they are such long shoots sheâd rather do anything else. She wants to explore but sheâs so directionally challenged sheâs scared to get lost and never return, her map couldnât even save her sometimes.Â
Julio cooks for her every day, he teaches her how to cook some dishes he learned in his classes, they write songs together, and she runs songs by him which turns into them taking turns serenading each other. They drunkenly kiss under street lights and dance in the rain. Sheâs never felt happier, ever been so in love.Â
A month in and sheâs back in Los Angeles where Rafeâs playing his last show. Sheâs excited to be here for him but sheâs counting down the hours until she can go back to Spain.Â
When she gets home she checks to see that her house hasnât been broken into and that all pipes are still in place. Her worst nightmare is returning to a flooded house. It all seems normal, she opens a few windows to air it out. Pennyâs back in Spain with Julio so she feels extra alone.Â
She texts Rafe that sheâs back in town and he texts her back within a minute.Â
âThank you for coming, angel.â She smiles at the nickname and responds,
âWouldnât miss it.â
He sees her and his world stops. Her hair is in loose waves and it looks a little longer than when he had last seen her. His heart reaches out to her, begging to be in her presence. Sarah notices him there standing like an idiot and waves him over, the motion grabbing Y/Nâs attention.Â
âHey,â he says walking over.
âHi!â She says putting her arms out to him, she goes on her tippy toes to reach him.Â
âHow are you?â He asks her, slowly letting go.Â
âIâm good! Jetlagg is kicking my ass, but happy to be here! Look at you, rockstar.â She has a wide smile on her face that makes him feel like heâs seeing the sun for the first time.
âYeah,â he laughs a little, scratching the back of his neck, shy all of a sudden.
âI heard a little rumour that Sofia was around?â
âI invited her to a show, extending a branch and all and we talked but that ship has sailed.â
âAre you on good terms?â
âI think we could be better, but itâs okay, Iâm not holding my breath.â She links her arm with his, he looks at where their arms connect and feels like heâs on fire. How is he ever going to get over her?
+++
Rafe is amazing. Heâs in a class of his own when heâs up on stage giving the show of a lifetime. It makes her tear up. She canât help but think how he almost gave this all up when they were younger. She canât imagine him anywhere but the stage. If he were working for his dad, his star would be caged. Sheâs so happy she could be a small part of his journey. He deserves the world.Â
For the first time since they started talking again, she feels like they can go back to normal. She loves him. She can have her best friend back.Â
+++
She doesnât know how fast everything can fall apart. Itâs perfect. Too perfect. She should have known that the other shoe would drop sooner or later. Thatâs how her life goes. She should have known she couldnât have everything she wants. Things get ripped away eventually.
Rafe and Topper had mentioned that there were rumours they might have to go on a festival run. She hasnât heard anything from their manager or their label. She likes the idea of a festival run, it could get them playing in front of people who donât know who they are and expose them to new crowds.
She misses performing, she knows this would cut her time in Spain short. Much shorter than anticipated. Sheâs supposed to be there for almost seven months, with a bit of travelling back and forth until Julio finishes filming and they can stay in New York for a while.Â
Sheâs only been here for three months. Itâs been so nice to be back with Julio full time, and get to do normal couple things after work. She doesnât know how sheâll break the news to him. She chooses not to until she knows for sure.Â
The peace is short-lived.Â
âWhat is this?â Julio holds up the phone for her to take. She grabs his phone and looks at Boston Callingâs festival lineup. She reads trying to see what heâs talking about and finally finds what heâs asking about. Saturday, May 8th: Kildare Split B stage.Â
âI promise I didnât know anything about this.â She tries to reassure him.
âThatâs in two weeks.â He says to her, she feels the emotion in his voice.
âI know. Iâll talk to them.â She gives him his phone back and wraps her arms around him.Â
âIâm sorry.â They stay wrapped up in each other, silence overtaking them.
+++
âAsh, no one told me. I just thought I had more time.â
âThereâs nothing we can do, we have the contract, youâre expected here.â She slides her hand over her face and sighs.Â
âOkay. Thatâs fine, but Iâm leaving right after, no press.â
âY/N, thatâs not the only festival. Youâll be doing stops all spring and summer.â Her stomach drops.Â
âWhy didnât anyone tell me?âÂ
âIâm sorry. The label will make no exceptions. You have to be here for every show.â
+++
She cries in Julioâs arms about having to leave so soon. He tells her itâs okay and that itâs nothing that they arenât used to. She hates being used to being so far from him. She already misses him.Â
They try to get back to normal for the remainder of the time but something shifts. She canât quite place it. She doesnât know if itâs her or if itâs him. It feels off. For the first time since they met, it feels like theyâre orbiting around different stars.Â
Theyâre returning to their apartment from lunch with one of his co-stars when her world starts to crack. She knows what heâs thinking before he even says it out loud. His eyes are sad and she can read him. Sheâs never hated him a day since they met. Not until now. She tries to distract herself, tries changing the subject, she tells him sheâs going to shower and get ready for bed.Â
In the shower, she tries to scrub away the doubt and rubs at her skin to try and rid herself of the feeling. Impending doom. The world ending. A black hole fiding her universe and destroying it before she can do anything to stop it.Â
When she gets out of the shower heâs sitting on the edge of their bed facing her, sheâs still trying to avoid it, she kisses his cheek and turns away. He stops her from walking away by grabbing her hand and pulling her towards him. She doesnât face him. She canât.
âThis is so hard.â His voice comes out hoarse.
âThen donât do it.âÂ
âI love you so much it hurts.â Itâs not supposed to hurt. He taught her that.Â
âI donât know how much longer I can do this.â
âYou said we could get through it. You said that it was nothing we hadnât done.â
âI know what I said. I thought I could.â
âAnd now you canât.â He looks at her, shaking his head.
âIâm sorry. Iâm so so sorry. I wish things could be different.â
âNo. No. No. Stop, no, you donât get to break up with me.â Sheâs screaming, the tears already spilling from her eyes. Sheâs never felt so crazy. And her world falls apart. She doesnât remember a time before her life was him and her.
âY/N. You know I love you, I would do anything for you, and this is the right thing to do.â
âNo. You donât get to choose what is right for me. I do. And I choose you. I always choose you.â
âItâs not feasible. Being away from you. It hurts too much. It hurts you and it hurts me. I canât doÂ
it. My heart breaks every time you leave.â
âIâll do anything.â Tears fall from his eyes as he gulps.
âMoving here is not realistic for you, you were supposed to be here for way longer and look, you leave in three days. I donât blame you. Itâs everything youâve worked for and I wonât be the person that holds you back.â Sheâs sobbing now, she canât see him over her tears, sheâs shaking and desperate to get him to listen. To keep him.Â
âIâll quit the band.â It comes tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop it. she grabs his face and makes him look at her. âIâll quit.â He looks at her eyes wide.Â
âNo.â
âJulio, please.â
âYou donât mean that, youâll resent me and you wonât be happy and itâll ruin us.â
âI wonât. I promise.â Sheâd never heard these sounds come out of her body before, so guttural and painful from somewhere deep inside her.Â
âYou will. You would never ask me to quit acting, would you?â
âNo,â she whines, the tears flowing.
âThen how could I ask you to quit your dreams?â Heâs right. She knows he is and it fucking hurts. She wants to rip her heart out. Sheâs never felt pain like this and she wishes she could have never met him.Â
Thatâs not true, the thought of never having him in her life hurts. No matter how painful this moment is, the realization that their relationship is over is, she would never take back the years she spent with him. He showed her what it meant to be loved. How it felt to be seen and wanted. He taught her selflessness in love. She would never take it back. She needs to numb the pain.Â
She falls into his arms, her face on his chest as she cries and cries. He holds her like he never wants to let go and cries with her. God how she wishes she could live another life. How she wishes they could be other people. In another life, she thinks. In another life.Â
Heâs what she wants, but sheâs not what he needs. Because sheâs hurting him. Sheâs been hurting him and he canât put up with it anymore. Sheâs not worth it.
She books her flight for that night. Not wanting to prolong their inevitable goodbye. She watches as he closes the door to his apartment. The last time sheâll be here. They hold hands on the way down to his car and then as he drives her to the airport where he kisses her for the last time. Kisses her goodbye. And she gets on the plane and cries all the way home. The flight attendant keeps bringing her water and the people around her are whispering. She closes the curtains around her pod. Her eyes focus on the sides of the window as the frost builds like little spider webs reaching out to her.
She loves him. She loves him. She canât believe this.
+++
She gets to her house. Penny next to her. She sets her stuff down next to the door and collapses into a pile of skin, bone, and numbness. Her heart missing. Her heart was somewhere back in Spain with the boy he dragged her out of her isolation and brought her back to life. How could she ever be okay again?
She doesnât leave her house or her bed until the day she has to be on a flight to Boston. She has about 100 missed calls and a billion unopened text messages. She doesnât care to talk to anyone. Doesnât want to explain the breakup.Â
+++
She can feel herself isolating. To the way, things were before him. Sheâs in a room full of people and she feels the most alone sheâs ever been. She waves everyone off, not giving them a second glance. She marches on stage, she plays the show with a missing heart. Pretending sheâs okay. The band sees right through her, the fans donât know better.Â
Everyone is worried about her. Ash forces her to come out with the band and crew. Sheâs probably scared sheâll overdose if sheâs on her own. All the telltale signs of how she used to be. Theyâre keeping an eye on her.Â
She doesnât feel like sheâs in her body, sheâs floating through life right now. She walks out onto the balcony, needing fresh air.Â
Everyoneâs dancing as she sits on the balcony and stares at the night sky. The wind makes goose bumps rise on her skin. She feels another tear try and escape her eye. She blinks it away before it can. Sheâs so tired of crying all the time.Â
âHey, you.â Topper steps out into the crisp air.Â
âHey,â she whispers, trying to cover that sheâs been crying.Â
âYou okay?â
âNo.â
âItâll be okay. Sometimes love just doesnât last. It happens and itâll pass.â
âWe didnât break up because we didnât love each other. If the distance didnât exist I would still be with him. I would choose him over and over again but I was hurting him and in turn, I was hurting myself and neither of us expected or would accept the other quitting their dream jobs to move. So weâre done and it fucking hurts, Top. I saw forever with him. I havenât felt that way about anyone ever. Part of me thinks that one day, when weâre both settled and not chasing the next best thing, weâll be together.â Sheâs choking up, tears spilling over.
âCome here,â he opens his arms to her and she falls into them, âIâm here for you.â she looks over his shoulder to where Rafe is with their friends.Â
âFor now I just want to drink and cry and sleep for three weeks. I want the pain to stop. I donât want to feel.â She pulls back from Topper, grabbing his arm and dragging him back inside.Â
She would forget. At least for tonight.
+++
Her head pounds in the morning. She would blame all the crying sheâs been doing but itâs mostly the alcohol. Cleo would kill her if she knew how much she was drinking again. She opens her eyes and looks around the half-lit room, the morning sun peeking through the curtains. The curtains are on the wrong side of the room. She looks around some more and notices clothes thrown on the floor. Menâs clothes. This isnât her room.Â
She remembers bits of the night before, kissing and touching in the elevator ride, the fight to find his room key, looking into his blue eyes and forgetting the name of the man with the brown eyes. At least for a moment. She blinks as if that would stop the headache. Â
âShit.â She hears from beside her. She slowly turns her head until her eyes meet the blue eyes staring back at her.Â
âTop.â
âFuck.â
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The Good Queen
(Gif not mine)
Fandom: House of the Dragon
Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I wonât apologize for everyone being gay for each other)
Tag: hotd the good queen
Warning: Fluff. Happy ending. No one dies (except Aemma, sorry love) and everyone lives. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Slight gore.
Word Count: 3,901
Summary: The King must choose a new wife, and Alicentâs older sister, Y/n Hightower, is a suitable choice and a perfect match. For once, Viserys makes a decision that benefits everyone and upsets little few. The Seven Kingdoms are better for it.
Authorâs Note: Not a request. Oddly enough, plenty request Otto imagines but never King Viserys. I thought I'd give it a try since I had an idea. But to be honest, Viserys x Reader are sort of background pairing/onlookers of this.
(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)
It was the most logical choice to pick the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower. It was also all part of Lady Y/nâs plan. After the death of her mother, she had become the guardian figure her younger sister, Alicent, truly needed in her time of grief and loneliness. Older and far more mature in beauty and wisdom, The Lady Y/n Hightower was determined to still give Alicent whatever was left of her childhood and did everything in her power to make her little sister feel loved and accepted. So if there were whispers regarding Alicent, Y/n likely knew about it. One night, her handmaid came into her room and warned her of whispers involving her little sister and the King. The maid spoke of Lord Otto placing Alicent where Viserys could see her after the death of the late Queen Aemma, and Y/n was beyond disgusted and furious.
However, instead of confronting her father, Y/n went behind his back and also placed herself where Viserys could see her. While she couldnât stop Alicent from seeing the King at night without raising suspicion, she did, however, visited the King between meals and even ask Princess Rhaenyra if she could attend the Small Council meetings to act as another cupbearer. Rhaenyra, excited with the prospect of another woman being a part of the meetings, accepted the proposal. Y/n made sure to fill Viserysâ cup modestly and had even accompanied him in the royal gardens a time or two after that. It didnât take much effort before he announced to his small council his engagement to her. Rhaenyra, sad but relieved her father found another wife, gladly welcomed Y/n into the family with open arms and was even more excited at the idea of Alicent being ever closer to being a part of her family.
The Hand of the King, however, was less than happy and voiced how displeased he was of her when finding time alone with his eldest daughter, âWhat have you done?â
âDone?â Y/n questioned from her vanity mirror, removing her earrings after a long day of the people of the court congratulating her.
âHe was supposed to marry your sister.â
âWhy would he want Alicent, Father?â Y/n tilted her head innocently at the reflection of Otto standing at a distance behind her, âSheâs but a child.â
âIn the gods' eyes, she is a woman grown.â
âSo am I. I am the eldest, so why must she be married off first?â
âSheâs the most comely lady in court.â
âIf you think me ugly, Father,â she snarled, finally standing up and turning to face her father head-on, âJust say it and be done with it.â
âI had wished to marry you off to your cousin.â
âOrmund is Heir to Oldtown. Surely my uncle would want a better match for him to ally another large house to ours instead of within our own family. Youâre a political man. Try to be smarter than the second son desperate for power.â
The insult strained their relationship if it hadnât been strained already. Lord Otto barely spoke to his eldest daughter after that unless common courtesy compels him to do so, like complimenting her wedding dress before he gave her away to Viserys. Y/n may not have felt love when the King kissed her with the promise of affection and commitment, but she felt relief. Upon watching the way Alicent danced and laughed during the feast that night, entirely unaware and still innocent of childhood, Y/n knew she made the right decision.
It wasnât long before Y/n was pregnant then the world as she knew it imploded with excitement. The maesters, after tending to all of the former Queen Aemmaâs sickly pregnancies, were astonished to see Y/n flourish in quite the opposite direction. In a strange way, she was excited to be a mother, and practically raising Rhaenyra and Alicent helped with that dream.
At first hesitant, the princess grew to love Y/n as her stepmother, especially since the new Queen was her best friendâs sister. Even though Y/n was rumored to be carrying a son inside of her, Rhaenyra tried not to openly worry for her sake. She may be Viserysâ shiny new heir, but the idea of Queen Y/n having a son bothered Rhaenyra, even though Y/n tried easing her worries with the promise of always openly advocating for the princessâ right to the throne. This aggravated Lord Otto for obvious reasons. After Aegon was born, the Hand tried reaffirming his position over his daughter in order to persuade her into raising Aegon as the future king. In return, he got a stone wall, unmoveable even in the strongest of storms.
âYou may be the Hand of the King,â Y/n had sneered at her father one night in the safety of her chambers, âBut I am the wife to the King. I am the Queen.â
And with his daughter as Queen, Lord Otto found himself in lesser power than when she was just a lady of the court. With her baby boy on her hip, Queen Y/n attended many Small Council meetings, shameless at the stares of men around her when she took her seat next to Viserys, stealing the spot away from his Hand. Over some time, Y/n became to lean towards Rhaenyra when the princess poured her wine and offered small treats to her little half-brother. With the proper influence, Y/n had also convinced Viserys to grant his daughter a seat at the table, no longer a cupbearer. Y/n then happily stepped aside and let Rhaenyra sit next to her father while the Queen sat next to her own. By then, Lord Otto never felt further away from the King, physically and cognitively.
Even less so when his younger daughter was married off under his own nose. Like a carpet pulled underneath him, Lord Otto was forced to walk Alicent down the aisle and be handed off to her new husband, Harwin âBreakbonesâ Strong. Some wonder who could have ever picked out such a perfect match, while others looked no further than the Queen herself. With her fatherâs pawns now swiftly taken from him, Lord Otto begrudgingly asked King Viserys for his blessing to resign. Although shocked, Viserys only had to look to his wife before granting his Hand a dismissal.
Tail between his legs, Otto Hightower left for Oldtown, never to return to Kingâs Landing, even when his daughters produced him grandchildren. In his place, Lord Lyonel Strong was named Hand of the King and he was a better-suited friend to the throne, and most importantly, an ally to his Queen.
Queen Y/n was a busy woman, even while pregnant. Especially while pregnant. She couldnât afford anyone trying to take away her power and influence when she was knocked down and so she was constantly on the move, no matter how round she got. Her daughter, Helaena, came quicker than Aegon, and so the Red Keep was filled with delight at the announcement of a new princess soon to roam the halls. Rhaenyra was delighted. She was spotted trying to teach the baby girl how to walk, letting her little sister hang onto her hands and trot over her own feet. Alicent was already a proud aunt, but she doted on Helaena much like Y/n used to dote on her own younger sister. It seems as though the Queen had been quite the influence between Rhaenyra and Alicent, both now fully grown, beautiful and proud.
If Alicent was missing her father, she never showed it. Instead, she spent her time excited when she learned she would soon be a mother herself. Watching Y/n raise her children, Alicent had grown to wish to be just like her sister one day. Harwin was kind to his young wife and understood his place in her heart must be shared with the people around her. He knew Alicent loved her sister, the Queen. He knew she loved her niece, Helaena, and nephew, Aegon, and above all, he knew she loved the Princess Rhaenyra. Harwin couldnât blame Alicent. Harwin had grown to love her, too.
Y/n and Alicent were soon pregnant together, and it felt as though the Seven Kingdoms could not have had a more beautiful, plentiful summer that year. Everyone was happy, whether of the royal family growing or from the prospect of the harvest. Most of Kingâs Landing was always celebrating and most stomachs were full and warm. With the Queen and her sister expecting, the castle was alive with happiness and love.
However, Y/n knew there was one individual who was internally unhappy. She was no fool. The Queen saw the way Rhaenyra looked at Alicent and the way Alicent looked at Rhaenyra. Surely, Alicentâs unborn child sparked a deep-dwelling of sadness within Rhaenyra, longing still evident in her eyes. Eventually, Y/n saw the way Ser Harwin stared after the princess as well and knew that something had to be done. She wouldnât dare dream of separating the three, but she knew that Rhaenyra had to marry soon or who knows what sort of rumors might blossom should someone else notice the tension between the princess, Alicent, and Harwin. Rhaenyra needed a husband, despite the princess making it difficult to find a suitor. Y/n knew where to look, but unlike the other times, it would take a lot more effort to convince the King of this match.
âNo,â Viserys smiled, despite the clouds looming overhead, âAbsolutely not. Daemon is not worthy of my daughter.â
âIf you could have your way, no one would be worthy of her,â Y/n sighed, briefly smiling at her husband while rounding the Small Councilâs table towards him, her hand brushing over the surface. They were alone at the moment, waiting for the other members to join them, âBut she is your heir, and sheâs no longer a child. She is unwed, and last I heard, Daemon had recently lost his wife, Lady Royce. As I understand it, their marriage was left unconsummated.â
âOthers will look to him to be King, instead of Rhaenyra their Queen,â Viserys retorted.
âPerhaps. Perhaps not. Not everyone will be happy, no matter what decision you make, Your Grace.â
She reaches the King, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she crossed to stand behind him, rubbing his aging shoulders and physically feeling his body slowly uncoil and relax. Viserys sighs, long and exhausted, his fingers rising to rub his eyes, but instead reach further back and clasp Y/nâs hand instead. She squeezes his hand encouragingly, while Viserys still looked hesitant and forlorn, âHeâs not worthy of her...â
âNo,â Y/n leans down and kissed the top of his head, âBut he does love her. And I think she loves him, too. They are dragons, Viserys, and your kin. Your house sigil requires three dragon heads. If Rhaenyra is to be Queen someday, then she will need heirs of her own. Sheâll need dragons. This marriage proposal is not an unheard-of custom, especially for a Targaryen. This alliance will keep your legacy strong long after you and I are gone, and your reign over Westeros will remain peaceful long after Rhaenyra has passed on.â
The Small Council meets that evening, and Viserys announces Daemon and Rhaenyraâs engagement. For supper, that night, King Viserys and Queen Y/n sit beside Rhaenyra and invite the children and Harwin and Alicent along for the celebration as well. Rhaenyraâs eyes sparkled again for the first time in a while, and if Y/n noticed the tight grip her stepdaughter had on her hand, she didnât comment.
Thankfully, Daemon was on board with this proposal and made no fuss when he was summoned to Kingâs Landing. Both he and Rhaenyra were married by the end of seven, long days of festivities. The newlyweds decided to temporarily part for Dragonstone, but both rushed back on their dragons when they received word of Queen Y/n and Lady Alicent both going into labor.
Aemond was a difficult delivery, but Y/n was, as always, overjoyed to have the infant brought into her arms. Down the hall, not long after Aemond was born, the Queen could hear a different cry coming out of her sisterâs room.
Alicent birthed a son, Jacerys Strong. The whole kingdom rejoiced over their new prince and little lord. Many spoke about the bond the two would share growing up and strengthening the alliance between House Targaryen and House Strong. Lifelong friends were born that day, and Y/n could not wait to raise her children alongside her sisters'.
Rhaenyra quickly became pregnant as well, and by this time, Y/n had noticed the way Rhaenyra and Alicent hold onto each other as they roam the gardens, both of their husbands following them in tow. The Queen doesnât miss the way the four often spend most of their time together, day and night. Sometimes, Y/n feels as though sheâs intruding when watching them all interact. Rhaenyra and Alicent are usually glued to each otherâs side, but if not, sometimes Y/n noticed Daemon accompanying Alicent and Harwin attending to Rhaenyra. There are times when even all three are attending to the princess as her stomach slowly grows. Now that she noticed this, Queen Y/n noticed other things as well, like how intense those training sessions between Daemon and Harwin can be.
For the most part, Y/n turns a blind eye and makes no complaint. She doesnât say a word to Viserys, but sheâs seen the way the King watches his daughter with her... group of confidants, and part of Y/n wonders if her husband sees it, too. Perhaps she is not the only one turning a blind eye in order to see Rhaenyra happy with the family her father always wanted her contented with.
Daemon and Rhaenyraâs firstborn is also named Aegon, nicknamed the Younger. Aegon the Elder was delighted when Rhaenyra confessed she named her child after her brother more so than the Conqueror. Viserys was a proud grandfather/uncle, holding the babe in his arms as he sat upon the Iron Throne to announce Aegonâs birth to the court. During the festivities, Viserys even made a lighthearted joke about how his darling wife was so young and it was nearly impossible to believe that she was now a grandmother.
More children came after that, though Daeron would be Y/nâs last after she broke out in fevers once she birthed him. She survived, but after that, both she and Viserys agreed that Daeron would be their last one. Alicent and Harwin bore two more sons, Lucerys and Joffrey, while Daemon and Rhaenyra had another son and a daughter, Viserys II, and Visenya. Despite a few age differences in between, all the children were raised together within the Red Keep and grew up nearly forgetting that they were, in fact, not all direct siblings. They were taught together. They trained together, sewed together, and fought together.
Ten years passed and they were the best years of King Viserysâ life, or so people claim. Even as his health declined, he made no room for sorrow, only joy when his children and grandchildren were involved. One of his favorite pastimes was overlooking the courtyard and watching as his children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews all played together. All of the Targaryen childrenâs dragons, still small with age, curiously watched them play as well, acting more like large dogs than fiery beasts.
As they got older, some of the boys got rougher. As siblings-who-are-not-really-siblings do, they all occasionally fight or they take their anger out in training. One unfortunate incident was between Aemond and Lucerys. Whilst training, it was clear that the cousins were angry at each other over something minuscule and so they tried to vent using the swing of their swords. Unfortunately, Luke swung hard and Aemond didnât sidestep in time to avoid it. The very tip of the Strong boyâs sword slashed across Aemondâs eye, leaving behind an unspeakable scene full of blood and screams.
The Queen was summoned right away, directed to Aemondâs chambers where her son was already abed with the Grand Maester tending to him. It was a gruesome scene, even with the wound already cleaned. Aemondâs eye was swollen and angry, a long, ugly cut running through it, trailing down his cheek and over his eyebrow.
The maester moves away from the bed and allows the Queen to take his place by her sonâs side as he explained, âI have given as much Milk of the Poppy as I could, Your Grace, but for a child of his size, it would be too dangerous to give him the proper doses he would normally need to relax. The pain has dulled, but it will linger.â
The Queen sits on the edge of Aemondâs bed, âIt will heal, will it not?â
âThe flesh will heal into a scar... but the eye is lost, Your Grace.â
Y/nâs face crumbles in distress, taking Aemondâs hand in hers while brushing some of his silver hair from his young face, âWhat happened?â
âAn accident in the training yard, Your Grace, as I understand it.â
âLuke cut me!â Aemond cried in anger, âHe cut me and I should have left my mark in return! I had my chance and I couldnât take it! I wish I had!â
"Aemond," his mother warns, eyeing him with a look that only a mother could threaten with her child, âYou donât mean that. I understand your anger and your grief, but at the end of the day, what happened was an accident. Tragic, yes, but an accident. Luke is your cousin. He is a part of your family and he loves you. He would have never intentionally harmed you and you know it.â
She leans forward then and kisses his forehead, just above the top of the cut, "We can get you something to cover it up. Or, once it fully heals, we can replace it with a false eye. A diamond, perhaps? Ruby?"
Her lightheartedness softens Aemondâs anger, slightly, as he relents to his motherâs touch, leaning into her embrace as he entertains her idea, "Sapphire."
She leans back so he could see her smile of approval, "A fine choice, my love.â
The Queen stands up, taking her time to help Aemond lie down and get properly tucked into his covers. She lovingly pets his hair down as she turns to the maester beside her, âGrand Maester. Have some essence of Nightshade brought up to my sonâs chambers. He needs time to rest and heal.â
âAt once, Your Grace,â the maester bows then exits the room.
Y/n leans back down to her son one last time, bringing his hand up to her face to kiss his fingers, âBe hopeful, son. Women like men with scars."
She leaves the room and makes her long trek to the kitchens. Rounding a corner, she comes across her sister. Alicent was distraught and full of guilt, grasping the Queen's hands in hers as she cries, "I'm so sorry... Harwin and I will punish Luke accordingly."
"There's no need," Y/n is quick to reassure Alicent, her sisterly instincts kicking back in. The instinct never truly went away. It was dormant, but Y/n will always protect her sister, no matter how old she gets, "It was an accident, Ali. Aemond will not resent your son for it. I can imagine Luke is very distraught about what happened. You must attend to him. Reassure him that he was not at fault and I would never hold this over my nephew."
After she sent Alicent back to her family, Y/n returns to her original task and heads to the kitchens. She returns to Aemond's chambers a little while later, carrying a tray of food and drink for her son, ignoring the servants when they offered to carry it for her. Behind her, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron are hovering in the doorway, poking their heads into the room and trying to get a good look at their brother abed. The Queen sets the tray down and turns back to the doorway with a knowing glance, âCome along. Dine with your brother but then leave him to rest.â
A picnic was made in Aemondâs bed, his mother and siblings surrounding him as they nibbled on bread and cheese. They talked about other things to distract the injured prince, telling stories about their day or laughing at a joke Aegon said. Viserys, in search of his family, limped into the room with his cane not long after, smiling softly at the scene before him.
After sending her other children away to let Aemond sleep, Y/n takes her husband's arm and carefully walks with him to her own chambers. His hair had begun to thin out and a hunch in his back drove him to lean forward or off to the side as he walked crookedly. He was no longer the peaceful, handsome king Y/n had married, and a small ache in her heart hammered every time she looked into his eyes, age spots and wrinkles beginning to form on his pale skin. Despite his troubles with his health, he still never looked happier.
"You are a wonderful woman, Y/n," Viserys held her arm in a firm grip, his kind smile pulling those wrinkles further up his face. His eyes dazzled warmly, happily, without a sign of a lie, "You're a good mother, a good queen, but most importantly you're a good wife. Had I not married you... I am not sure I would be surrounded by the most loving family and ruling such a prosperous kingdom. What would I do without you?"
Y/n smiled back, patting his arm affectionately as they make it down the long hallway of their home, "Best not to dwell on such a question, my love. The Seven Kingdoms are better off without knowing."
~~~
Viserys dies in his sleep a few years later. His health had gotten worse and the only thing he allowed the maester to administrate was the Milk of the Poppy to dull the pain. Otherwise, he didn't ask for a cure, nor did he try to even fight his illness. Many often wondered if, in the end, he was waiting to die. Others thought that guilt was a deadly illness and whatever secret the King had, died with him. After being given a window to mourn, the now Queen Regent, Y/n Hightower, crowned Viserys' rightful heir herself.
Queen Rhaenyra's coronation was grand, as what Viserys would've wanted for his beloved daughter. Daemon, his brother, proudly took the name, King Consort, while Rhaenyra named her firstborn son, Prince Aegon the Younger, her rightful heir. Lyonel Strong remained the Hand of the Queen, but his son, Harwin, was named Commander of the City Watch and was given a place at the Small Council's table. His children with Alicent were given titles to many lands, their oldest son heir to Harrenhal. Aegon the Elder was permitted the claim to Dragonstone, while Rhaenyra's other half-siblings were appointed as squires and cupbearers to her court, some were even betrothed to the Strong children.
Y/n, however, remained in King's Landing, despite being granted permission to go back to her family's home, Oldtown. With Rhaenyra's permission, she remained in the Red Keep where she had made a home among her children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. Y/n Hightower -once called the Good Queen- died in her bed many years later, after briefly meeting her first great-grandchild to her son, Aegon, and his wife and niece, Visenya.
There were no Blacks. There were no Greens. A hundred years will pass and everyone will know the story of how one woman stopped the Dance of Dragons from ever happening. Or better yet, no one will have ever even heard of it.
~~~
A/N: I know, I switched everything up and made everyone confused. This was a form of therapy for me after I wished that everyone in the show would just get along.
Part Two
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Can you do a buck x reader where sheâs a nurse and takes care of everyone at the 100 and they all think sheâs just perfect and a mother figure while all the soldiers are away from that mother figure and one day she like snaps when having to deal with screaming soldiers and she goes up to one the higher power guys and like cussing them out for constant sending the men into a death trap and her having to pick up the pieces and buck has to hold her back while sheâs just screaming at the other guy and everyone else is like đ§ïżŒ
hello, thank you for your request! 𧥠I've just realised that none of my previous Readers in the stories with Buck were nurses lol đ· most likely because I can't even imagine myself as a nurse and writing about all these things is enough to make me feel sick đ€Ł but because of this, it was easy to write this story where the Reader is at her breaking point lol proceed with caution because there are ugly descriptions of blood, needles, death etc.
also this gif asdfghjkl I swear, in the story he has more compassion towards the Reader đ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven đ€
You thought you could do it. When the war had started, you hadnât thought twice as you had signed up to help. Real help. No paperwork or coffee making. You had wanted to become a nurse.
The physical aspect of your job was not that difficult. You knew what to do in most situations and you had learnt how to stop frowning at the physiological body functions. It was the emotional aspect of the job that no one had prepared you for.
Sometimes the boys would come back from the air battles with nothing but mere scratches. They would still come by just to spend time with you and let your gentle, skilled hands to patch them up as they were telling you stories.
Sometimes the same boys would not come back from their next mission and the stories they had told were all that was left of them. You would cherish them in your heart forever.
Sometimes the boys would come back burnt, with half of their faces blown out or their guts bleeding all over the floor. Their screams of pain would haunt you later at night. Those were your boys.
Perhaps that was why you were everyone's favourite nurse. You were getting attached to them so easily, treating everyone as a friend, offering them a loving hug when they needed it, listening to their stories, helping them to write letters to their mothers and girlfriends or children. You were a good spirit of the base and one of the planes was named after you. So far it still hadnât gone down and everyone treated it as a sign that you were their guardian angel indeed.
You didnât see yourself as a guardian angel. If you had to stay within the religious imagery examples, youâd rather describe yourself as a mater dolorosa â lady of sorrows watching her sonâs suffering and not being able to help him.
Sometimes they would die in your arms. Still, it was better than to die in a burning plane. Better for them. Not for you.
Today was a day of a very difficult mission. Most of the planes hadnât come back at all. And the ones who had, were full of men screaming in agony and pain. You were barely able to hold it all together when they were reaching their hands out for you as if your touch would heal them. But it wouldnât. It couldnât, no matter how much you wanted it.
â(Y/N), you should take a breakâŠâ Your friend put her hand on your shoulder. You were exhausted indeed. You were working for three hours straight without sitting down for one second and you were running around from one bed to another. âGo, rest,â she insisted but you shook your head and went back to work.
Only when you noticed that your hands were shaking so much that you werenât able to inject a needle into a vein properly, you decided to take a break indeed. You didnât want to cause even more damage by trying too hard.
But before leaving the sickbay you wanted to check on one of the young pilots. He was nineteen years old, it had been his first mission and you remembered how excited he had been about it. Now he was laying on one of the beds, barely breathing as his chest was burnt and lungs damaged.
You were approaching his bed and your heart sank to your chest at the sight of the doctor putting a white sheet over his face.
âWh-what⊠What are you doing to Johnson, sir?â You asked.
âIâm sorry, (Y/N),â the doctor shook his head. âHeâs just passed away.â
You just stood there with your lips slightly parted. Johnson was just another surname on the list of all these boys you would never forget about. But Johnson was special. He was the youngest you had known. He couldnât stop talking about his mother and little sister, about his dog and his girlfriend waiting for him back in Alabama.
Your sadness overtook your whole body and then it developed into an anger so big that you felt as if you were about to explode and bring down the whole base.
âSon of a bitchâŠâ You breathed out angrily as you stormed out of the sickbay without even taking your apron off. It was full of blood but you did not care.
You walked down the corridor with murder in your eyes, making everyone step out of the way. And you entered the Colonelâs office without knocking, so loudly and rapidly that all the men inside startled.
âMiss?â Colonel Harding asked as he was sitting behind his desk and showing some sort of a map to a few Majors.
One of them was Major Cleven. He hadnât been up in the air on that day but he would be tomorrow. And was the one you had befriended the most. But even his presence couldnât stop your rage at that moment.
âYou canât just keep sending them to die, Colonel!â You clenched your fists and approached the desk as the men watched with big eyes. âLook! Look, Colonel! Look!â You showed him your bloody hands and your apron. âWhy is it me with their blood and guts all over me? While youâre just sitting here, planningâŠâ You gave the map a very angry look. You wanted to tear it apart and you were shaking to stop yourself from doing so. âYouâre sending them to death, all of them, theyâre just boys! Johnson was nineteen years old! Do you even know who he was? Or was he just another number to you?!â
â(Y/N), calm down, letâs take you outsideâŠâ Buck approached you carefully but you moved away.
âNo! I will not be silenced. I have things to say and I will say them!â You snapped at him and he froze. You laid your eyes back on the surprised Colonel again. âYou just sit here and plan how to send them to death more efficiently. You men⊠Canât you see how stupid this whole war is? How stupid every war is? And just because some brilliant engineers constructed planes, doesnât mean they should be used to kill people!â
âMissâŠâ Colonel furrowed his brow, âMiss I-Donât-Know-Your-Name, are you done?â
âYou son of a bitch!â You banged your bloody fists on his desk and his stupid map got covered with blood. âYou donât even know my name. But I am the one to patch them up and hold their hand when theyâre dying after you sent them to death. God damn you, Colonel Harding! You and all the Generals that you serve! God damn Hitler, God damn Churchill and God damn your fucking President Roosevelt!â
â(Y/N), please,â Buckâs strong hands pulled you away. âIâm sorry, Colonel. Sheâs all shook up,â he tried to explain your behaviour as you started sobbing when the anger had finally left your body. You hid your face in his uniform and allowed him to put his arm around you. âIâll take her outside.â
âYeah, you better do it, son,â Colonel nodded at him. Buck started to walk you out slowly and carefully as you heard Colonelâs voice while you were walking out of the door. âPoor girl⊠She needs a free weekend.â
Buck took you outside and watched you worryingly as you were catching your breath back and trying to calm yourself down, wiping the tears off of your face with the palms of your bloody hands.
âHere, let me,â he took out a handkerchief and wiped your face with it gently. âGee, (Y/N), what was that?â
âI⊠I donât know⊠I just canât⊠I canât do it anymore, Buck⊠That boy, Johnson, he was nineteen⊠Nineteen, for Godâs sake,â you sniffed your tears back and looked into his eyes as your lips trembled. âHe was telling me stories about his mum and little sister⊠His dog and his girlfriend⊠And now⊠And now heâs gone. Just like that. His lungs were burnt. Every breath was agonyâŠâ You tried to explain, still shaking.
âYou really need a free weekend,â Buck pointed out and brought you closer to give you another hug.
It felt good to be in his arms. It was comforting. But you were scared to admit to yourself that you indeed liked him more than just a friend. Because if he would go down tomorrow or any other day, it would hurt even more.
âI canât⊠I canât leave my boysâŠâ You took a step back to look at his face again. âAnd⊠And I canât just take a free weekend. It would feel wrong. When you boys are up in the air, so brave and so heroic. All I can do is patch you up later. I canât give up, noâŠâ
âWe all need a break sometimes. Hey,â Buck raised your chin up with his finger, âpromise me that youâll take a free weekend.â
âArenât you on a mission this weekend?â You asked.
âYeah.â
âThen no way, Buck,â you shook your head. âI have to be here to patch you up,â you smiled through the tears.
âThere are other nurses âround here,â he pointed out with a soft smile.
âI donât want them to touch you,â you admitted suddenly as your cheeks heated up.
Why the hell had you said that�
âThey donât know how to patch you up properly, I meanâŠâ You tried to explain yourself quickly. âOnly I know how toââ
But he didnât let you finish. He leaned in very carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You were stunned.
âI know what you mean, sweetheart,â he teased after finally breaking the kiss and caressing your cheek with his thumb. âI promise I wonât get a single scratch when youâre not around.â
MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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May I request Karma with a fashionsta s/o? They love dressing up, makeup, jewellery, and are super trendy?
Can it be written like a fic and not headcanons?
I love your work, and take your time lovely!! ââąâ!!
Karma x Fashionista Reader (2 mini stories, both separate from one another!)
. Ëâ ⧠You said like a fic I hope a double one-shot is okay ËÍá”ËÍ sorry this took so long I've been drowning in work and haven't had time for writing ÂŽËË I really appreciate how you always like my post it means a lot! â§. Ëâ
â Story 1) Online Shopping
You have been scrolling through online stores for half an hour now.
With no understanding of personal space, Karma hovers over your shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of your screen.
"You're so heavy, get off meee..."
âDon't you have those shoes already?â
"No. I have them in black but the pink and white variation is so cute!"
He raises his eyebrows in confusion, "Same difference to me."
You sigh "Yeah 'cause you wear the same things most days."
He spoke, "I'm only lazy about it because I don't want to outshine you."
"I just love how humble you are. Ah you distracted me, the shoes are sold out now."
You laugh lightly shoving him off your shoulders, "There's no way to make it up to me! Well actually you could-"
"I'm not giving you my console [Name]."
"Worth a shot... if I can't have your console I want to dress you up!"
He thinks it over for a second and gives in to your hopeful smile, "Alright, but no hair gel."
You rush up the stairs "Deal! Iâll go get the stuff!â
A week later, the shoes you wanted were delivered to your doorstep. Karma didn't tell you, but you knew he was the one who bought them for you.
â Story 2) Makeup
âThis looks weird on me, maybe I should give it to Rio? It would suit her." You frown as you grab a wipe to remove the lip-liner off, You realize it's about time you stop buying from influencer advertisements.
His eyes move down to your lips, "I think it's pretty on you?"
"Don't lie to me."
Karma deadpans "Fine then it's ugly."
You push his cheek away playfully, "Wow I appreciate the honesty."
"I was kidding! It looks good."
"I'm sure you think so."
Without missing a beat and as if to make a point, he kisses you and you can feel his smile growing wider on yours.
When he moves away from your face; you burst out laughing at his stained lips.
"Why does it look nicer on you?!"
He wipes his mouth and shrugs, "I can make anything work."
He grabs the pencil in an attempt to re-line your lips himself.
He mumbles âthis looks easy enough.â
He moves back to admire his line work "You're just not used to it, but you look cute either way."
Safe to say these are your new favorite lip products.
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Sunbathing
Before the outbreak there's a girl who keeps teasing Daryl.
Daryl's pov. Angry Daryl. Daryl and named OC. Kind of dirty.
18+ You're responsible for the content you consume.
First post nerves.
Of course she was here! She was everywhere he fuckinâ went. It was like she knew when he needed space and had some sick twisted need to devour what little time he carved out for himself. That stupid fuckinâ Mather's girly is just laying out by the river bank, arms beneath her head like she owns the whole god damned river and the sun is shining down on her over the tree tops like it agrees with her.
Picking up the fishing pole, Daryl's fist tightened around it, his face screwing up in anger makinâ his whole head hurt twice as much. He lets everyone walk all over him, but not anymore, not today. Especially not stupid Mercy who parades around in her dumb tiny shorts and ugly cut off shirts.
Taking the pole over to a shady spot he throws himself down, landing with a grunt. Digging through the little box of feathers he keeps in a tin till he finds a few small ones to tie on. If Mercy is watching him behind those dark glasses of hers he can't tell, not that he was lookinâ anyway. Not that he cares.
He cast the line, sticking the pole in the ground to light a cigarette and wait. She hasn't said a word and it's so unlike her that he thinks she has to be asleep. It's the only time she ain't asking him a million questions or trying to order him around. He stamps out the first butt and lights another. Takes him nearly all of the second one before he can hear the water trickling by beyond the anger pounding around in his head. Takes him even longer to realize his line has too much slack. The reel clicks quietly, a familiar lullaby that usually helps empty his head but not this time, not today.
Mercy still ain't talking. It's the longest they've ever been around each other without her at least sayinâ hi and now it's bothering him. He came out here for peace and now her silence is eating him alive. Not like beinâ around her does him any good. Never has, not even when they were kids. Just to try and take his mind off of her he starts reeling in the line, puffing on the smoke between his teeth but the harder he tries not to think about her the more he does.
That girl sighs and it draws his attention away from his half hearted attempt at fishing. She's still just layinâ there, knees now bent. Her shorts are digging into the upper parts of her thighs making little dips there that make his fingers itch to touch. She's just some annoying girl that he doesn't even like.
Then she moves again, rolling to her knees in the dirt, dead grass clinging to her back she's digging in a small cooler. Picking out some red white and blue ice pop she stuffs the wrapper inside before flopping back down on the ground. Still, not a single word out of her. She sick? High?
The more he looks at her painting her lips with the cherry end of the ice cream the more he's bothered by her silence because he can't help but see something else in his head. The way her tongue swipes across her bottom lip collecting the sticky sweetness there makes him tense in a way he shouldn't be around her but can't seem to help.
âWhy ain't you sayinâ nothinâ?â He asks. It just sort of bubbled up.
She takes her time answering sucking on the end of it making a soft lewd noise that makes his dick twitch. âThought I talked too much Dixon?â there isn't even any anger in it. She's acting like she isn't even bothered by him being there watching her suck half the ice cream in to her mouth like she suckinâ cock.
âYou do.â He drops the spent butt on the ground, his fishing pole forgotten.
She hums again around her snack, lips making a slurping noise around it like they do on titty channels that come on late at night. âWant me to ask you how you got that shiner?â She turns her head to look at him and if she notices him move his leg to hide his half chub she doesn't say.
Mercy runs a tongue along the underside of it catching drops of it before it can land on her tits and he's silently hoping she misses just one. Then his dick is coming alive thinking of her swearing the melted sugar water across them, swirling the red end over a nipple until it's rock hard. He don't need to be thinking about her like that but he can't look away.
She sits up holding in her mouth, cheeks hollowing around it and he swears she's doing it on purpose. No, she knows what she's doing and thisâthis tease is secretly eating up the attention. Mercy grabs the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She isn't wearing a bra or even one of her bright colored biking tops, no, she isn't wearing anything at all now âcept them frayed shorts of hers.
âPut your shirt back on Mercy!â
She lickin on the end for a moment, watching him watch her. He can't not think about how her ice cream is smaller than his dick. âStop actinâ all mad.â She drops her head back.
Stop actinâ mad? Stop actinâ mad! She's doing this to fuck with him cause he doesn't wanna talk to her. He can see it in the way she smiles at him before biting off the last of the cherry flavor. Knows it when she leans back on her elbows to push her tits out on full display. She does all this shit just to fuck with him and he can't even figure out why! She treats him like he's nothinâ! Tryinâ to push all his god damned buttons! Fuck her and fuck this!
He has to readjust himself as subtly as he can just to stand up. Even being mad at her doesn't stop his cock from throbbing, doesn't stop the ache. Then he's mad all over again because this is Mercy he's thinking about. Bitchy, awful, needy Mercy who comes over and smokes pot with Merle. The same girl who laughs whenever his brother calls him some stupid girl's name. This same girl who tries to lay against him on the couch when Merle leaves to go get more beer because she's lonely.
He's shaking his head. âI ain't in the mood for your shit. âM goinâ home.â He hates her. Hates the pink strip of colored hair that falls over her shoulder. Hates the way his brain has already memorized the trail of blue melt that's dripping on the swell of her breast and racing for her dusky nipple.
âIf you stayââ she shouts loud enough for him to hear. âI'll let you touch em'.â
He even hates himself at this moment because now his feet are planted in the ground. Needing a distraction he lights a cigarette he doesn't even smoke. âThe fuck you think I wanna touch your tits for?â
Mercy shrugs. âYou keep staring.â
He snorts a breath of air through his nose. None of it even means anything to her, she's just messing with him. Always messing with him and he was tired of being nice. âYou're the one who whipped emâ out to get me to look. What did you expect?â
Her face twists up. âI'm sun bathing asshole! I was the one who was here first!â
âAnd you ain't pretending to give the world's shittiest blow job with that thing?â He takes a hit off his cigarette nodding to the sweet melting in her hand. Her face is turning red, the tips of her ears are burning in embarrassment. He's turned the tables on her, called her out on her little game and she can't take it. Some distant part of him feels an inkling of pride at that. Her lip curls and he's moving towards her one slow step at a time.
âI changed my mind. Get fucked!â She throws down her ice cream in the grass.
Letting out a soundless laugh he's next to her now. Daryl's looking down his nose at her, the blue melt finally falling off the tip of her breast. âYou wanna suck cock? Here it is.â Then he's grabbing himself through his jeans.
He blames the fact that there's no blood left in his head for why he's acting like this. That he needs her good and pissed off and disgusted all so she'd quit trying to get on his nerves all the damn time. He wants her to hate him as much as he hates her. Only, she ain't pushing him away. No, she's licking her sticky lips as she looks up at him behind those big ugly glasses.
âWhat? Can't figure out how a belt works?â He asks her. He's goading her to yell at him, but she hasn't yet. He sticks the smoke in his lips bending down to grab her hand. He pushes her fingers against the buckle when he stands back up. âC'mon! You want it so bad you're going to have to take it out yourself.â
Mercy bites her bottom lip as she twists to sit on her knees in front of him. His heart stutters in his chest when she begins to tug on the strap and he nearly laughs. She was so desperate she was actually going to suck him off. She's silent for probably the second time in her whole life as she undoes his belt.
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"If it's amazing, they'll know."
When talking about "George Lucas' vision" and the original six Star Wars films, there's one thing to bear in mind and that's Lucas' style of filmmaking.
These are movies for kids, designed to emulate the Saturday matinee serial format from the '30s, Ă la Flash Gordon. You see this most of all in the dialog. But something else you notice is George Lucas' filmmaking style, particularly in how he films and edits.
Take Darth Vader's introduction, for example.
Look at the composition: Vader stands tall, in contrast to the - as the script puts it - "fascist white armored suits of the Imperial stormtroopers". They're all in white, he's all in black, he's bigger badder, emerging from a cloud of smoke. What an entrance.
But if you think about it, it's just a single full shot. Very basic.
Compare this to Kenobi, wherein Vader is treated like a monster out of a horror movie. First, you glimpse his shadow, people reacting...
... then ominous bits and pieces like his boots or his lightsaber...
... and finally Vader himself, in all his terrifying glory.
That's a modern way of shooting it and it admittedly makes ol' Darth seem that much more imposing and absolutely badass.
But Lucas comes from a background of editing, experimental filmmaking and used to work as a documentary cameraman.
So what he did is just put the camera down and have Vader walk in. It's a faster yet differently-efficient way to introduce the character. It's more about dynamic pacing and visuals.
And that is Lucas' style. In his words:
"The way these films were put together, they're shot very much like a documentary film and the action of stage, and then I shoot around it. I don't stage for the camera. And as a result, there are a lot of things that happen pretty much by accident. It lends an aura of authenticity to everything."
- Star Wars - Episode I: Podracing Featurette, 1999
Another example: the introduction of General Grievous.
A door opens revealing his ugly mug and he walks in. Boom.
But in Star Wars Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, you find that - as envisioned by the storyboard artists - our introduction to Grievous would've been very different.
"We wanted to have the introduction to Grievous be a series of really close shots that would be a series of details: his creepy foot, his creepy hand...
... his scary alien eyes...
... but George brought up an interesting point. He didn't want the film to concentrate on one design detail or one elementâ but rather let the world be there and let the viewer find those things without necessarily having it shoved in their face."
- Derek Thompson, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013
"George nixed the idea, saying: 'I don't want something to be special because of how it's filmed, but because of what it is. Just put the camera on it and let it play out in front of the audience. If it's amazing, they'll know.'"
- Iain McCaig, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013
That's it in a nutshell. "If it's amazing, they'll know."
The above storyboards look awesome and seeing Grievous be introduced that way would be great... but it wouldn't be Lucas' Star Wars. It would be some other director taking a crack at it.
And this way of shooting can be weird, even boring, at times. I mean compare Mace leading his troops into battle...
... to Aragorn leading his, in Return of the King.
The latter is so much more emotionally impactful. For a number of reasons (eg: Aragorn is a deuteragonist, Mace is a secondary character with less development), but one of them is that the moment is just shot in a way that's more interesting.
First we have an angle on Aragorn as he smiles and charges. Then the rest of the other characters as they react and follow suit, then the troops do the same.
With Mace it's, uh, *checks notes* he flourishes his saber and charges, the clones follow. Hell, for half a second we're looking at just an empty screen.
But y'know what the shot does look like?
It looks like something out of a WW1 documentary.
It's that authenticity he was mentioning further up.
At the end of the day, you can call it campy or bad... it's Lucas' style. It's cinema. There's a logic to it.
"To me, the script is just a sketchbook, just a list of notes, and, sometimes, I prefer the documentary feel of free flow, so I let my instincts tell me where to go. I like to create cinematically; I don't like to have a plan. I like to have a rough idea of what I'm going to do-certain themes, certain issues I'm going to deal with-and then I try to do so."
- The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 116, 2005
He doesn't try to make a character look particularly badass with camera angles or make the shot too choreographed, he just goes with the flow, and makes the deliberate choice to shoot it that way, because for better or for worse... it's his movie.
So yeah, just a tidbit I thought would be interesting.
Edit:
@schilkeman added this very interesting point in the replies:
"He doesnât stage for the camera, but he does compose for the camera. The documentary style, while somewhat detached, requires the filling of the screen with motion and light. The way things move through frame seem very important to him. These are things his films excel at."
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I want to ruin my life and throw myself into an arc so uhh
Can i request class 1-A but like outcast reader? Angsty yk where theyre always dismissed in training and forgotten
Oooo I like this one lmfao I want so desperately to make reader this feral little cicin mage like from genshin đ buts gonna be gn
đđđŹđđđ«đ„đąđŹđ <3
đđąđłđđ°đ đđ§đ 1-đ đ± đđ!đđđźđđđ§đ!đđđđđđ« (đđ„đđđšđ§đąđ) - đđšđŻđ đđ§đ đđ đđšđŻđđ đđđđ€
Aizawa was starting to become a little worried about you. He had been so busy with Shinsou and his problem children to focus much attention and direction to the rest of the class. Every time he would try to work on it, yet another calamity would occur and force his attention back on the main parties.
He was working on this little flaw of his, continuously checking in with and directing the others during training period. He never got to help you, though. It seemed that whenever he would look for you, you would drop from the face of the earth.
You were avoiding him.
You would sit on your lonesome in class and at lunch, with your head kept down. He's never once seen you exchange small talk. In all honesty, he's less worried about your physical capabilities, and more worried about your mental state. He has a bad feeling.
In reality, you just hated this class. Every day, someone would open their big, ugly mouth and out came nonsense that further convinced you of how undeserving they were of being at the top. You were only here because you were recommended. Your quirk isn't nearly as powerful or flashy, either. Why does everyone else get all the attention when all they do is fuck up and ruin everything?!
All of this comes to light during the next sparring period. You were towing on the edge of keeping up with one of the class' best, until you were unexpectedly knocked down. That was your last straw. How fucking dare he?
You were suffering a humiliating defeat as you sit on your knees on the floor, staring into the distance without focus, until your sight was infiltrated by the image of Midoriya. You hate that stupid brat. The hatred in your veins is only fuelled when he offers a hand to you and a pathetic smile.
Within a second, his hand is slapped away and the room goes silent.
"Get the fuck away from me. Fuck you."
The bite of your words is only dulled by the waver of your voice, and the tears in your eyes. Izuku is stunned, as is the rest of the class. Even Katsuki thinks you're overreacting. Kirishima steps in with a frown. "Hey, man... That wasn't cool-"
He's interrupted when you turn around and walk away, brimming with anger and frustration. How is he so much better than you?! You train every day and constantly home your skills, so how did he beat you faster than you could blink?
Maybe you were being a little horrible, but you've never learned how to offset your anger in healthier ways, so for now, you're happy taking it out on others.
Are you really that weak? Maybe, after everything, you're the one who doesn't deserve to be here...
How come they could always be nice to eachother, but they could never talk to you? Why were you ignored or given strange looks when you tried to open up? How come noone wanted to be your friend?
Aizawa, of course, figured you might react in such a way. Loneliness can easily turn into bitterness if you take your eye off it for too long. He needs to help you fix this.
He wants to keep everyone in this class for as long as he possibly can, and allowing you to exclude yourself any more than you have would be dangerous for everyone, including you.
It's with that, that he starts putting people in pairs for everything. He would force you to socialise if it was the last thing he did.
Every day you would argue with your pair, but it was worth it, because when you were offered kindness or compassion, no matter how reluctant you were to accept it, he could see that little spark in your eye. It was the kind of spark that made him aware of your guard dropping. You were actually starting to care about your classmates.
Obviously Toshinori immediately knew what he was doing when he saw Aizawa put you in a group of three since the class was uneven on a specific day, and he would offer up a smirk and subtle glance as if to say "wow, you finally got through to them".
He supposed that it's not your fault you don't know how to cope with your... Emotional baggage, much like Shouto or Katsuki, but he likes to make you very much aware that it's your responsibility to learn how.
When the day comes that you finally think to apologise to Izuku, the boy you've grown an annoying fondness for, he actually starts to cry. He's so proud of you for not staying emotionally constipated like Katsuki, that he actually floods the room and Aizawa has to open the window for him to violently sob out of so that the entire class doesn't drown.
Slowly, you start to grow a kinship with a few people in your class, and you grow especially close with your bubblegum haired friend Mina, and Jirou, who liked to do her part by teasing you out of your shell. Maybe, you could even learn what it's like to love and be loved back.
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König headcannons
yâall, imma start writing for Call of Duty now đđŸđșđŸ iâm currently playing both call of duty modern warfare and MW2 so if i get anything wrong iâm sorry i havenât finished either đđ iâm sorry iâve barely been active! life is very fucked rn, but onto big boi könig headcannons
there are times he will come home from a mission or something very sore because he gets thrown around/hit a lot, he will go to you for a massage or a warm bath (you both had a large ass tub installed in one of your bathrooms because of how big he is and he canât fit in a regular sized tub)
if he decides to go outside without you he will have to have something of yours in his pocket like your bracelet or one of your pins just so heâs comfortable. he once had a panic attack in target and you had to drive up there to finish shopping with him at another target because almost all of the shoppers stared and watched instead of help him
heâs the type to kinda just eat the pickles after he said no pickles on his order because heâs afraid of making the workers mad. you always have to go tell the workers yourself and he kinda pleads with you for 5 minutes not to and that he can eat the pickles or take them off.
when he asked you out the first time he was a blushing, shaking mess. you two have been friends since you were kids so you knew how he was and how he didnât like confrontation at all so you just waited patiently and even told him a few times he can text it to you or something if he couldnât speak. he eventually got the words out and he was fully expecting you to say no and leave but five years later, youâre still together!
he knows his own strength and being 6â10 and over 230 heâs pretty strong â he once hurt you by accident while playing and he refused to touch you for two weeks, he even hid in the closet for hours after it happened because he was afraid you were mad at him. you explained you werenât mad at him and that it was just an accident
he speaks to you in german while in public, he only does this when heâs anxious, doesnât wanna talk to anyone or he just does it for fun
has a bunch of pictures of you in his hidden album so he can look at them while heâs away.
you went to the hospital for about two months for a health issue that needed to be fixed and i swear König was having withdrawals at home without you. he obviously visited you all day but on non visiting days/hours he had withdrawals at home, he hated sleeping in the bed alone and he hated not hearing you somewhere in the house doing something. the house was very silent that two months. when you came back he didnât leave your side
he likes to mess with you a lot if youâre a lot shorter than him. if you ask him for something heâll kinds just hold it up in the air out of your reach, but then feels bad after 30 seconds and he stops
he takes Christmas abnormally serious, he decorates the whole house, makes christmas themed things/foods and even gets you both matching ugly sweaters! he got one that said âhis elfâ âher/his elfâ and you both wore it on any gatherings he was willing to go to.
he has lured a cat into the house with cheese three times and now you have three cats â congratulations. he almost did that with a deer but you caught him mid lure and you still him from adopting a deer
has kept the same card you gave him when you were kids, he puts it in his pocket while on any missions so he has something other than pictures to remind him of you and remind him the reason why heâs coming home every time
he secretly likes being little spoon (donât tell him i told u that)
youâre the only person who has seen his face â not even his closet friends in the military have seen more than his hair and face
he let you wear his gear once and he has millions of pictures of you in his gear because of how big they are on you
he has never wanted to get married before dating you, but now thatâs all he can think about, only with you tho! marry him >:(
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Oh. My. God. Hi there!!! Iâve been desperately trying to find others who still love WWDITS and write for them so when I came across your post I almost screamed. Can I get Yandere Nadja x Female!Familiar?
~~~~~~~~~~
~Yandere!đčđđđđ x Fem!Familiar!Reader Headcanons~
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OH. OH HONEY. I had to throw my phone on the couch when I saw this request so I could squeal and wave my hands around. Had me giggling and kicking my feet irl, babes
SOMEONE COME SPAM MY INBOX WITH NADJA REQUESTS I'LL KISS YOU
Summary: You're Nadja's stupid little baby. Do I need to explain further
Note(s): I do not watch What We Do In The Shadows episode for episode, I usually skip around. Due to this, some events in the show or the way I portray the characters may be a bit mixed up or off.
Warning(s): Yandere behavior, possessive behavior, gaslighting, guilt tripping, manipulation, objectifying the reader, violence, blood, a little bit of (but not much) sexual content, ect.
~Enjoy~
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đčđđđđ
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~Nadja has a LOT of big feelings, and she WILL make them known, no matter what the situation is.
~It may not be obvious what she's feeling, but when she's feeling something then everyone is going to feel it, too.
~If she's angry, you had better NOT be caught in the line of fire. If she's sad, she's going to either whine and sulk for attention, or she'll lash out. Emotions vary. She could seem one way when she's really only acting like that because on the inside she's feeling another way.
~So, she's a very hard person to read despite the fact that she speaks her mind without having much of a filter.
~The same goes for how she treats you.
~Her stupid familiar who just follows along with whatever is happening. Her useless human pet who has the HONOR to even be in her presence and clean up after her.
~Treats you like you're her stupid dog.
~She'll degrade you one day, and be giggly with you the next.
~Oh, but don't get too friendly with her, or she'll be annoyed by you. But, make sure you interact just enough, because if you don't, she'll get after you and try to make you entertain her. Ah, yes, but don't try TOO hard to make her happy, either, because you'll get on her nerves.
~The point is that you feel like you're walking on eggshells 24/7.
~She can't decide if she wants you to wear something gorgeous and grand to have you match with her, or if she wants to have you wear ugly baggy clothing so you don't look seem as gorgeous as she does.
~Then she thinks that it'll make HER look bad if you're not dressed up, so she's going to make you wear all the stuff she does so you don't look like you just recently escaped from the sewers after swimming in shit and piss.
~Of course, she might scold you and smack you with the hair brush if you tell her something she's doing with your hair is hurting your scalp.
~But then Nadja saw you smiling in the mirror when she was finished. You looked so gorgeous. So excited to be dressed up like that.
~Suddenly, she wished she could see herself in the mirror beside you.
~Laszlo will join in, too, so all three of you match.
~If you ever have a fight with her, her reactions come in phases.
~First, she'll snap at you and call you names and demand you get out. It's unclear if she means get out of the room, or out of the house, but the point is that she does NOT want to see you after an argument.
~Second, she'll rant and be absolutely furious for awhile.
~Third, she gets upset at herself because she made her own familiar upset. She denies being upset at herself by being a bitch to everybody and claiming they did something wrong, even if they were just standing there.
~Nandor probably got yelled at for just existing or something idk
~Colin Robinson feeds off of all this drama of course.
~Fourth, Nadja decides it's your fault for whatever happened, and she'll cry and run away or something just to get your attention. Will sulk until you're the one to apologize.
~And lastly, once you apologize, she realizes the apology sounds wrong coming from YOUR lips instead of hers, since she was probably the one being a drama queen and making a big deal out of nothing.
~Does not know how the hell to apologize very well but she'll kind of try.
~Nadja will start giving you more cute (sometimes weird) nicknames after that.
~Once she REALLY gets attached and decides she likes you, she'll be silly with you and gossip. She DEMANDS a girl night.
~You're like her pet, now, and will literally go as far as petting your head.
~Does she ever think about putting you in a collar that makes your throat look extra delicious, with a leash attached so she can tug you along and coo at you?
~Absolutely.
~She will beat the absolute shit out of anybody who looks at you the wrong way.
~More than willing to rip open someone's ribs so she can tear out their heart and stomp on it.
~Then she shows you and expects you to be like "wow Nadja you did that for me thank you!"
~Or if you have a terrified reaction, she'll be confused as hell. She just killed someone for you? Hello? That's the ultimate way to show someone you love them, isn't it? Literally be willing to tear people apart for them?
~But she'll baby you and give you a hug, anyway.
~"He was a big stupid asshole, my love, didn't you see the way he looked at you? He deserved to die!"
~Then she'd look back at the bloody scene and point down at the body and yell "He was a PIECE OF OLD PIG SHIT!"
~And then would go back to babying you and giving you all the reasons why the person who looked at you wrong deserved to die
~She has done something like that on multiple occasions and would never be afraid of doing it again.
~Nadja most likely wouldn't make you a vampire for an extremely long time (by that I mean she might literally not do it in time, you might be dead by the time she even decided to consider it đ. Or, if something awful happens to you and you're on your death bed and she decides she needs you to be immortal for her.)
~She wants you to always be her cute little familiar who comes when called, not her fellow vampire who doesn't work under her anymore.
~If you ever had a one night stand, she's fine with that, and would have everybody in the house sit down so they could listen to you tell them (in detail) everything that happened. You aren't getting out of that one.
~But she would be very jealous if you had a boyfriend/girlfriend, rather than just a fling.
~If you fall in love with anybody, know ahead of time that she's going to consider either murdering them, or at the very least, treating them badly.
~She would try to chase them away by somehow getting them to believe you said something about them that you actually didn't say.
~Then she'd comfort you about your "break up", pretending to be shocked about what happened, as though she didn't plan that.
~Unfortunately for her, she isn't a very good actress, and it's a bit obvious that she was the one who made that happen.
~If you then demanded to know WHY she did that to you, she'd finally admit it in a moment of anger and fear that you found out.
~"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I did that for YOU! They weren't good for you, my darling, why the FUCK don't you understand?!"
~Nadja is most definitely a dangerous yandere. She can be just as volatile and demanding as she can be doting and silly.
~~~~~~~~~~
Nadja is my favorite character to write as a yandere omg
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double the trouble (triple the fun) | seo changbin & han jisung
አpairing â changbin x reader x jisung, changbin x jisung
አgenre â smut
አword count â 3.7k
አtagsâ afab reader, best friends with benefits, dirty talk, exhibitionism, spitroasting, slight choking
አnotes â i was going to make chan the ex because apparently i cant live without mentioning chan but i was like omg i cant do thatâŠ. So headcanon that chan is the next boyfriend who treats u right. binsung are still Protective and Suspicious until one day chan meekly suggests a foursome and BAM theyre 100% convinced that hes The One
read on ao3 :3
âJaesuk cheated on me.â
Music stops. A loud, obnoxious, automated voice announces Game over! just as Jisung drops his controller. Beside him, Changbin sets his phone down slowly.
âWhat?â
You look up from where you were picking vegetables out of your meal, blinking rapidly. âUm. Jaesuk cheated on me?â
âThat lanky, ugly, bug-eyed son of a bitch cheated on you? On you?âÂ
Jisungâs voice gets louder with each word as he slowly rises from his seated position on the floor. His face was pinched, and for a second, he looked as if he was genuinely angry. Your lips twitch.
âUgly? Didnât you say he was cute when I first showed you his picture?â
Jisung scoffs. âI was lying out my ass, Y/N. What do you mean, he cheated on you?â
You sigh at that, setting down your fork. You had hoped the casual mention of your ex would explain why you haven't been with him for weeks, a concern Jisung himself raised a few days ago. You also knew, however, that your best friends were never the ones to let anything slip by so easily, especially when it came to you. So this wasâ as much as you hoped it wouldnât beâ expected.
âA few weeks ago, we had a fight over something stupid and had a pretty bad argument about it. I went over to his place to work things out because I felt bad that Iâve been giving him the silent treatment. Caught him pants down with another girl in the hallway. According to his neighbor, that wasnât the only girl heâs fucked out in the open.â
You relay the story lazily, all while looking for the packet of soy sauce you had seen Changbin toss away earlier. You donât notice Jisung and Changbinâs faces get even more furious with every word.
Changbin, who had been quiet the entire time, finally speaks up. âIâm going to kill him.â
âHuh?â You look up, soy sauce packet between your teeth. âWhaft? â
Your eyes widen when Changbin actually gets up and snatches his car keys on the table, then heads for the door where his shoes were lined up. You panic even more when he actually laces up his shoes, and itâs only then that it hits you.
He was actually angry. Like Angry angry.
âJisung, stop hi-â You start, panicked face turning towards Jisung, but you stumble back a step when you notice he was fuming too.
His jaw was clenched, eyes furious as he glared holes somewhere on the floor. He paid no attention to Changbin, who was actually turning the knob on the front door now and holy shit-
âI canât bail you out of jail!âÂ
You exclaim as you rush over, pressing your body between Changbin and the door. You let out a sigh of relief when it slams shut behind you, but Changbin doesnât seem too happy about it.
âY/N,â he sighs, voice clipped. âMove.â
âNo, what the hell- Bin, are you serious?â You huff, placing a hand on Changbinâs cheek.Â
His narrowed eyes avoid yours. You knew that Changbin never wanted you to see him when he was angry, and the fact that he didnât want to make eye contact with you right now proved to you how serious the situation actually was. He might actually kill Jaesuk.
âLet him be.â Jisung cuts in. He was still frowning, but his eyes cooly met yours as he dropped down on the couch, leaning back to rest his arm on the backside. âIâll bail him out.â
You stare. Jisung stares back, undeterred.Â
Itâs tense in the room.
After a beat, you purse your lips. âYou couldnât even afford rent last month.â
Jisung lets out a scoff as he turns away, but you snort internally when you see his slowly reddening ears. Changbinâs lips are quirked as he turns to look at Jisung too, but he immediately schools his expression back into indifference when you face him. You raise an eyebrow in challenge.
âAnd youâre not killing anyone. Between us three, Iâm the one who would most likely commit a murder. Not you two. So go sit back down and-â you grunt as you push Changbin back with both hands to his chestâ which felt like a rock solid wall, mind youâ but you falter when he doesnât even move an inch.
Hands gently clasp your wrists.
âHe hurt you.â
You freeze. Slowly looking up, you find Changbin gazing down at you. He looked almostâŠÂ upset now, and you coo.
âOh no, Bin, he didnât-â
âY/N, you were still in a relationship when he got his small dick wet and not to mention how shitty heâs been treating you this past month! How could h-â
âChangbin.â You hiss, and he immediately shuts up. You soften when you see his eyebrows furrow, clearly upset about the situation. You take his hands in yours and squeeze.Â
âI would have had to care about him enough for him to hurt me. Iâm not hurt, Bin, I promise. Iâm justâ pissed.â You swallow, shifting nervously on your feet. Jisung gets up then, sidling up next to Changbin. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you flash him a grateful smile. âIâm angry at myself for wasting so much time on the asshole. Iâm angry at him for stringing me along. Iâm angry that I spent so much time with him when I could have spent it on better people likeââ you sniffle, ââlike you guys.â
âIâm not hurt,â you reassure them once again, frowning. âIf I have the chance to punch him in the face Iâd gladly take it, but most of all, Iâm just- I just want to move on.â
Jisung makes a noise at the back of his throat, and youâre not even given a warning when he goes behind you to pull you into a backhug, face nuzzling into your hair. You giggle when he presses a kiss to your shoulder.Â
Changbin pulls your attention back to him with two fingers under your chin.Â
âThen let's do it. Jisung and I will hold him down and you can punch him all you like.â
You laugh, and at that, Changbin finally softens.Â
âIâm being serious.â He still says, but thereâs a smile tugging at his lips. You grin.
âI know you are. But thatâs assault, and I am not stooping that low. Especially not with you guys. The thought of giving him more attention just pisses me off even more. I want to forget about him, okay? Pretend he never existed in my life, and that I never met him. Letâs justâ let him be. Karma will get to him.â
Jisung huffs. âNot even a little kick to the balls would help?â
You snort. âNot even a little kick to the balls, Sungie. But you know what would help?â
They both perk up.Â
You smile, slow and mischievous as you tug Changbin closer. âA club.â
Two simultaneous groans.Â
You laugh. âOh, come on! Iâm brokenhearted, you have to adhere to my requests! Oh help, I need to be cured right now!â
Changbin huffs out a laugh, somewhere between exasperated and fond. You giggle, letting go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck, Jisung still clinging at your waist.
âCome on, Binnie, pleaaaase? Just a few dances to get my mind off it. I wonât even drink, you guys can drink all you want, Iâll get us all home safe, please please please- â
âOkay, alright, christ-â Changbin groans, but heâs grinning as he brushes the hair away from your face. âNone of us are drinking. Weâll just dance and have fun.âÂ
âDance and have fun. Yes. Uh huh. Thank you.â You smack a long kiss to Changbinâs cheek before you turn to face Jisung, who was pouting.Â
You put your arms around his shoulder. âYou donât want to go to the club with us?â
âThereâs a tournament,â Jisung starts, eyes flickering towards the console, but he falters when he sees you blinking up at him. âIâŠâ
Jisungâs eyes quickly dart behind you to where Changbin was, but unbeknownst to you, Changbin already had both hands up in surrender, mouthing I canât help you. Iâm weak.
âYouâŠ?â
So Jisung shuts his mouth with a smile, hands squeezing your waist. âThat I can join next week. Alright, to the club! Come on, Y/N. Wanna pick what I should wear?â
You grin in triumph, letting Jisung pull you to his bedroom as Changbin follows suit with a defeated smile on his face.Â
The night was still young. You werenât going to let Jaesuk ruin the mood, and a night of dancing could fix that.Â
Luckily for you, Changbin and Jisung were more than willing to help.
You donât know how it happens, but an hour later finds you squeezed between Changbin and Jisung.
Youâre not drunk. Youâre barely even tipsy, having only just drank one beer. But the heat inside the club was affecting you. You were safe, content and happy between your best friends, what more could you ask for?
Itâs reminiscent of your position by the door earlier, but this time itâs a lot less wholesome and a lot moreâ ah.
âJisung,â You gasp when you feel another mark sucked on your neck, teeth nibbling one of your most sensitive spots. Shivers wrack your body. âJesus. Are you teething?â
Changbin snorts at that, but his eyes are busy watching Jisung. âHeâs not teething. Heâs staking a claim.â
You raise a brow, grinding back into Jisungâs clothed cock at the words. Jisung grunts in your ear. âOh? Letting everybody in the club know that Iâm yours?â
You squeak when youâre suddenly spun around, stumbling back into Changbinâs hard chest. He catches you easily though, one of his warm hands sliding up your top and another sliding down to your hips. You shiver again when his nails scratch against your tummy.
Jisung, who was now in front of you, stalks closer, and your breath hitches when he stops just an inch away from your lips.
With a smirk, he says, âthat youâre ours.â
And just as Jisung crashes his lips onto yours, another set of lips starts leaving wet, heated kisses on your neck. It trails higher, up to your cheek, to your jaw, and all the way to your ear.
There, Changbin whispers, confident and smug. âAnd weâre taking you home tonight.â
Itâs fleeting, the brush of a hand between your thighs, but itâs enough to shock your eager body and make you moan Changbinâs name into Jisungâs mouth.Â
âWrong,â Jisung whispers after he sucks on your bottom lip, letting it go with a teasing bite. âThat was me. Guess weâre gonna have a little game then, huh?â
âNo more games.â You whine, pressing back into Changbin, who was sucking in sharp breaths as he ground against your ass. âDonât care whose it is. I want you both, and I want you now. Please.â
Jisung huffs at the lack of attention, pressing his own clothed cock against the front of your thigh as well, and just the feeling of being sandwiched between the two has your body tingling all the way to your fingertips.Â
Youâre just about to pull Jisung into another messy kiss when Changbin stops the both of you by a hand to your neck, pulling you towards him gently.Â
You gulp at the feeling of his fingers around your throat, and Changbinâs eyes distractedly watch your slick mouth, but he still manages to get out, âHome. Letâs get you home, and weâll give you what you want. Sound good?â
âSounds great.â You croak out, still frozen at the feel of Changbinâs hand around your neck. Changbin seems to have noticed this, and his eyes darken when you moan at a slight squeeze that he does.
Jisung, already impatient, tugs you out of Changbinâs grasp with a possessive hand to your waist.Â
âLater.â He promises both of you, and you and Changbin both straighten up. âHome, now.â
You nod, blinking out of your daze, but your body still reacts when Changbin slides a hand up your back as he and Jisung lead you to the exit. They flank you on both sides, side-eyeing anyone who so much as looks at you.Â
Itâs a blur on the way back to Changbin and Jisungâs apartment, but you were hyper aware of where their hands were.Â
Changbin had wrapped an arm around your waist as soon as you had slid into the middle seat, and soon enough his fingers were trailing goosebump-inducing patterns under your shirt again. At one point he reaches the edge of your bra, and you bite your lip when he teasingly kneads under it. You send him a sharp look, gesturing to the driver.Â
All Changbin does is smirk in return.
Jisung, on the other hand, was gazing out the window and enjoying the scenery that you know heâs seen a million times, but his hand was busy sliding between your thighs. You jolt every time he gets a little too close to where you needed him most, and you glare when he quickly pulls his hand away with a knowing grin. He then lets his fingers scratch the inside of your inner thigh, and it gets so ticklish and hard to hold back the sounds that you have to stop him with a hand to his wrist and a pointed look.Â
Jisung merely takes your hand off, and continues.
You squirm in the backseat, getting wetter with each caress the two made. You donât make a sound, but your heavy breathing was probably obvious at one point, because you meet eyes with the driver in the rearview mirror, and he looked concerned. You flush red and try to hide your face by burying it against Changbinâs shoulder.
A coo. âYou alright? Drank too much?â
âShut up,â You hiss, but end up snapping your mouth shut when Changbin quickly but surely fondles one of your breasts through your bra. He slides a thumb under the cup to teasingly flick your nipple, then slides his hand back down to your waist, like nothing had happened.Â
âBin-â you whine in his shoulder, and he chuckles.Â
âAlmost there, baby. Just a few more minutes.â
And then, in a split second, fingers rub at your clothed pussy.
Your gasp quickly turns into a moan, which Changbin covers up by cooing louder and pressing your face against his neck.Â
âShhh, itâs okay,â Changbin soothes, âweâre almost home. I know your head hurts, but you can puke there.â
âAh,â The driver speaks up, seemingly understanding now. âPlease donât get vomit in my car, I can pull over if-â
âOh, no, itâs okay, thank you, sheâs just-â
As Changbin converses with the driver, Jisung continues his relentless rubbing. He finds your clit easily, and you moan soundlessly against Changbinâs neck as your hips buck. Jisung holds your hips down with his other hand.
âYouâre alright,â Changbin mutters down at you, cupping your cheek tenderly, but out of the driverâs sight, heâs sliding his thumb between your parted lips, pad pressing down on your tongue. âYouâre doing so well.â
You were so wet now, and you knew Jisung could feel it too, considering he kept brushing over the wet spot that has seeped into your panties. You squirm, hoping to get him back to your clit, but you freeze when his fingers slide under your underwear and fuck-
âJisung-â you start, moaning muffled against Changbinâs thumb, but Changbin cuts you off.Â
â-is right there. Donât worry, heâs safe. Heâs coming with us.âÂ
âIâm right here, Y/N.â Jisung pipes in casually, like he wasnât sliding the pads of his fingers up and down your labia, teasingly circling your clit and dipping the tips of his two fingers in your hole. âAre you hungry? Cause I am.â
You shake in Changbinâs arms. He laughs.
Youâre just about to cum when the car suddenly stops, and a keen bubbles out your throat when Jisung pulls his fingers away, upset at having your orgasm be taken away from you. Youâre in a daze as Changbin helps you out of the car, leaving Jisung to pay. You hoped he left a good tip.
It doesnât take long for the three of you to stumble inside the boysâ apartment, tearing at each other's clothes as you go inside the nearest bedroom.Â
Jisung makes quick work of opening you up as you leant back against Changbinâs chest, his fingers stretching your walls. You moan against Changbinâs lips, unsure whether to pull away from the fast thrusting of Jisungâs fingers or push into Changbinâs hands which were kneading your breasts.
âCome here, baby.â Jisung finally pulls his fingers out, kneeling in the middle of the bed as he holds his cock in his hand.
You crawl toward him, mouth opening automatically. Jisung groans, slapping his drooling cockhead on your outstretched tongue.Â
âThatâs it, let me see you take my cock in your pretty little mouth. Thatâs a good little slutâŠâ
Jisung slowly guides his cock into your waiting mouth at the same time Changbin lines himself up behind you, and you gasp when the head pushes inside.
You pull of Jisungâs cock and gasp. âYouâre so big, Bin- wait-â
You and Changbin both groan as you convulse around him. Changbin doesnât move, letting you adjust to his massive size. Jisung, however, was too impatient. He drags your mouth back onto his dick with a grunt.
âShit. Jaesuk missed out on this?â Changbin mutters mostly to himself once he starts fucking into you, each thrust pushing you forward onto Jisungâs cock.
âFucking loser,â Jisung says in reply, gathering your hair in his hands he thrusts in and out of your slick mouth too. âDoesnât know what he let go.â
You flush at both their words and actions, pleasure coursing through your body on both ends. You let Jisung fuck your mouth, too overwhelmed to keep bobbing your head with how good Changbin was fucking you.Â
Jisung must have been more worked up than you thought, because he suddenly pulls away. You let out a displeased whine, wanting him back in your mouth, but he just tuts as he holds you up by the hair.
âNot yet. Be good for hyung, alright?â
At the words, Changbin stops, flips you over, and immediately starts fucking you again. He wraps your legs around his waist, and your blink in surprise when his hand slides up to wrap around your throat.
âChangbin,â You choke out a gasp, fingers clawing at Changbinâs wrist as he squeezes your throat. âOh, fuck-Â fuck-â
His pace is relentless; your hips were hanging mid-air from how much heâs lifted you, and you were basically perched on his thighs. You almost black out when he squeezes your throat once, feeling lightheaded from the cock pounding into you and the lack of air.
Behind you, Jisung shudders at the sight.
You reach for him weakly, wanting to get a hand on him. He obliges almost immediately, kneeling beside your head as he strokes his cock to your gasps and Changbinâs grunts. You manage to wrap a clumsy wrap around him, and though it was almost useless, Jisung still moans loud.
âYouâre so- fucking-Â wet.â Changbin gasps, fingers tightening from where it was wrapped around your ankle. âFuck, baby, Jisung could slip in here with how wet you are.â
Changbin and Jisung donât miss the way you jerk at that, getting even tighter at the thought. You feel the tips of your ears burn, but Changbin just smirks. âOh? You like that?â
You donât expect to his slide down after that, finger trailing over your entrance where his cock was still fucking in and out of you. It only takes a little push, and his finger slips inside.
âAre you fucking crazy-â You hiss, but thereâs no denying the way you clench around Changbinâs cock and finger. You moan even louder when he starts moving it along with his cock, feeling like youâre about to lose your mind.
âFuck,â Changbin and Jisung both exhale, mesmerized.Â
Jisung was so close that every time he thrust, his cock would bump against your cheek and sometimes your lips. You move your head close so his cock slides against your lips, and Jisung almost doubles over.
âHyung,â Jisung whines suddenly, and you blink, confused, but then Changbin pulls Jisung into a kiss and your world shakes.
You and Jisung moan at the same time, Jisungâs cock twitching in your hand. Heâs gotten so wet that you hear a squelch every time he bucks into your hand.
Jisung melts in Changbinâs hold, something you understand all too well. Out of the three of you, Changbin was the best kisser. He had a way of pulling you into a kiss so hypnotizing it leaves you breathless and boneless at the same time.Â
The sight of your two best friends gasping into each other's mouths was enough to push you to the edge. You couldnât even warn them as you finally cum, toes curling as you convulse around Changbinâs cock.
Jisung follows soon after, pulling away from Changbinâs lips just to hide his face in Changbinâs neck, shuddering as he cums. He sprays directly into your mouth, but his hips stutter, so some of his cum gets onto your cheek and neck.
Changbin, with one arm around Jisungâs waist, pulls his cock and finger out of you with a groan and starts jerking himself off. He keeps your legs spread, and he watches with lidded eyes as your hole spasms around nothing.Â
With Jisungâs cock in your hand, his cum on your face, and Jisungâs face in his neck, Changbin finally cums on your stomach with a shuddering breath.
The three of you collapse on the bed soon after, sweaty and sticky. You were so content to just bask in the silence and heavy breathing, but you just had to ask.
âSince when-â You sit up and gesture to Changbin and Jisung, but you donât finish your sentence.Â
Jisung flushes up to the tips of his ears and hides his face in the pillow. Changbin laughs into your shoulder.
âSince now. Weâll talk about it later.â
âWah,â you exhale and lie back down on the bed, letting Changbin and Jisung cuddle up to you on either side. âThank fucking god Jaesuk cheated on me then.â
âYah-â
âDonât say that! Iâm still going to kill him.â
You squeak when Changbin pinches your waist, but you still feel their smiles on your skin. You giggle.
Getting fucked by your best friends definitely helped you get over your stupid ex.
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Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Female Reader
Summary: Santi figures out that Frankie came and saw you last night before he got a chance and makes you pay for it.
Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mature Content, Exes Reuniting, Favoritism, Jealousy, Revenge Sex, Competition Kink, Praise Kink, Manipulation, Kissing, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Come Eating (Accidental), Female Orgasm, Vaginal Intercourse, Woman On Top, Multiple Orgasms
Word Count: 2.8k+
A follow-up to FIRST
Read more of my stories HERE!
The expected pleasantries with Santi are cut short as you lead him into your living room, the warm glow of the table lamp doing little to hide the mark his best friend had deliberately left on your neck for him to see. You silently watch his handsome features twist into a frown as he begins going through all five stages of grief in a matter of seconds, depression staying just long enough before denial quickly counters it.
âWhat is that?â He touches you as if he hadnât stopped doing so for years, as if it were only a matter of days since he last walked through your front door and kissed you goodbye.
âItâs nothing.â You lie in order to keep his hands on you, to relish in that feeling of him physically caring for you like he did so long ago before he up and left. His fingers are warm against your skin, rough and calloused as they press into your cheek, turning your face to get a better look at the mark. It takes every ounce of self control for you not to touch him back, not to fall into the muscle memory of your intimate relationship that you never really had the chance to get over.
âNothing, huh?â He rotates your face from side to side, placing his opposite hand on your shoulder to keep you steady as he carefully inspects your new bruise. âIt sure as hell doesnât look like nothing.â He loosens his grip on your chin.
âItâs justâŠâ You wrack your brain for some kind of story to feed him, one that you might even believe enough to properly convince him of as well. Maybe you got distracted while you were curling your hair? Or maybe your massage therapist got a little carried away when they tried to do the new cupping technique? Or maybeâŠ?
âDid Frankie drop by here last night?â He interrupts your thoughts with a slightly worried tambre. âBecause he joked about coming over here after he dropped me off, but I didnât think he was fucking serious.â
He looks up at you with those eyes, those eyes that could easily make you spill your guts within seconds of staring into your soul with their deep mahogany hue. Eyes that could lull you into a false sense of security, pulling you in just close enough for you to forget everything else around you. Eyes that could soften your heart at its hardest, change your mind, or make you agree to do things you normally wouldnât want to do. Those eyes of his were much more powerful than you ever really gave them credit for.
âDid he come to see you?â He asks again, barely blinking.
Only you donât answer; purposefully averting your gaze from his hypnotic stare. Maybe if you donât look at him he wonât be able to see the truth thatâs undoubtedly painted all over your face.
Silence.
He laughs to himself and brushes his palm over his face. âAye pendejo,â he whispers under his breath. âI shouldâve fucking known.â
âSanti, look, IâŠâ you start without knowing where you could possibly finish.
âWhat? You think Iâm fucking stupid?â Anger rears its ugly head as the tone in his voice starts to escalate. âYou let him in here just like last time, huh?â He snaps his fingers before pointing in the direction of your bedroom. âJust like that? You let him slip in here even when you knew I was coming over here tonight?â
God, he looks so fucking good when heâs angry. Thereâs something about him getting all hot and bothered over another man beating him to the punch to get into your bed, even if it was his best friend; even if it had happened before. That territorial look in his eyes brings his face that much closer to yours, his full lips parting as they quickly fill with blood.
âYou and I arenât together anymore,â you remind him as his palm remains on your shoulder, his thumb gently brushing against your clavicle. âAnd how the hell was I supposed to know if you would actually come over tonight instead of just disappearing like you did last time?â You match his volume and intensity. âHuh?!â
More silence.
âI deserve that.â He hangs his head so you can clearly see the silver streaks as they weave into the rest of his charcoal curls. âLook, I know weâre not together anymore. I do. Of course I know that, but I just thoughtâŠâ he sighs, pausing for what seems like an eternity. âBut Frankie? Again? Really? No wonder he was asking who I was texting!â
âYou can leave if you want to,â you goad him, bringing your face in closer with a tone you know will challenge him just enough to stay.
âOh yeah?â He tilts his head and takes a second to chase away the disappointment by pushing you back up against the wall, keeping his grip tight on your shoulder. âHeâd like that, wouldnât he? Have his way with you without any repercussions?â He licks his lips as he stares at your hickey, running his thumb across your discolored skin. âMarking you like that.â
You canât help but let a triumphant grin cross your face as you watch that seed of competition begin to grow within him, pounding through the veins in his temples as he stares at you intently.
âIt doesnât matter, anyways,â you say as his lips draw closer to yours. âHe may have gotten here first, but thatâs only because he knows that youâre my favorite.â You slide your knee up between his thighs, gently nudging his growing bulge as his lips part mere centimeters away from your own.
âYour favorite, huh?â His whisper dampens your lips as he smooths his palm across your shoulder until it reaches your neck, squeezing just affectionately enough to excite your senses.
Now weâre talking.
âHe doesnât know my body like you do, Santi.â You cup his face and stroke the stubble along his cheek as he continues holding onto your throat. âHe doesnât take his time with me like you always do, or put in the work to make my body crave you the very second that I see you...â
âShut up.â His kiss cuts your words short, that all too familiar taste of cheap beer fresh on his tongue as it parts your lips with a hunger that rivals that of your early years together.
You find yourself nodding into his lips without uttering another word, bringing both hands up to cradle his face as he slides his other hand beneath your shirt. You moan into him as he palms the muscles in your lower back, pulling you in close to warm your core against his. You can feel his heart beating in rhythm with yours, thumping in his chest as the heat between you begins to rise.
âHow many times did he fuck you, last night, huh?â He lets go of your throat and pulls your shirt off, dropping it at your feet before quickly kissing you again.
âJust once,â you answer breathlessly, the shade of your lipstick now tinting his lips as he kisses your chin and jaw.
âMmm, so fucking lazy,â he mumbles into your neck with a slight chuckle. He suddenly shifts his weight and turns around with you, pushing you backward onto the couch. Forcing you to sit down in front of him, he digs his hooks into you one more time by locking onto you with those blackened, lustful eyes. He smirks and slowly starts unfastening his belt, pushing his pants down his thighs at an agonizing pace while you carefully watch him with bated breath. âShow me the rest of your body, baby.â
Chills run down your spine as you nod again in response, watching him free himself from his clothes, his girth always a sudden shock to your system no matter how many times youâve seen it before. You can feel the moisture begin to pool between your thighs as you find yourself instinctively doing as youâre told, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs. You still canât believe how lucky you are to have spun his jealousy around, unable to look away as he spits on his palm without breaking eye contact, stroking himself in such a languid, gratuitous manner.
âLetâs see how wet you get for your favorite, aye cariño?â He steps out of his shoes and pants before kneeling down in front of you.
The sight of his face between your thighs is almost more intoxicating than watching him stroke himself, his hooded lids adorned with lashes that brush your delicate skin as he presses kisses into your knees all the way up your inner thighs. Those eyes of his finally close as his mouth reaches your needy center, a muffled moan leaving his lips as he eagerly tastes your arousal. A ripple of pleasure moves its way up your body, pulsing through your core and up into your spine as he licks a slow, torturous stripe up your soaking wet length.
âJust what I thought.â He runs two fingers up and down your puffy lips before spreading them apart, focusing solely on the dew that clings between them. âYou get this wet for Frankie last night?â
âNo,â you can barely breathe your answer as he dips his fingertips into your entrance to collect the evidence, spreading it up and over your clit.
It isnât until just now that you remember Frankieâs words from before: âI want him to taste my come when he goes down on you tomorrow nightâ; a promise that sounded more like a threat at the time. Was it possible that Frankie could still be oozing out of you even now? Changing the way you taste to your former lover? Or had your own juices been enough to disguise the remnants of his release as Santi painstakingly splays you open?
Guess youâll never know.
âYou wouldnât lie to me, would you?â He raises an eyebrow as he runs his fingers back down, delving them deep inside your walls without warning.
âNever,â you admit with a gasp, holding your breath as the ridges of his calloused fingers glide over that special spot inside, pushing and pulling against it as his thumb rubs slow, tantalizing circles into your swollen bud.
âGood.â His tongue quickly takes over again, greedily lapping up your slick in a perfectly blissful pattern, his spit now mixing with your sex and Santiâs release as it drips out of you and down the crevices between your cheeks.
His unmatched oral skills nearly send you into a dreamlike state as that ripple from before spreads throughout your entire body. It wades through your nervous system, expanding in diameter as it reaches new heights and widths, washing over you in varying waves of delight. The rhythm of his fingers speeds up as your hips roll into them, instinctively moving with the rush of ecstasy he sucks into your clit by eventually pulling it into his mouth and past his teeth.
Without even stopping to take a breath, his mouth massages that last bit of pleasure into your deliciously sensitive bud without an ounce of mercy. His groans vibrate against your skin as your body trembles beneath him, succumbing to his expert ministrations as you find yourself drowning in the euphoria that only he could deliver in such a skilled, efficient manner. You cry out his name as that delectable feeling rips through you in a matter of seconds, bursting through every vein and artery in your body until the waters inside you eventually ebb to a calm, still state.
âI almost forgot how beautiful you look when I make you come.â He finally says, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as your moisture glistens across his face.
âJesus,â you huff, nearly jolting away as he pulls his fingers out, grazing them over your clit one more time before rising to his feet. âI almost forgot how good you are at that.â
âBetter than our boy Frankie?â He sits down next to you on the couch and grabs onto your hips, pulling you onto his lap in one fluid motion.
âAre you kidding?â You try to catch your breath as you settle onto the tops of his thighs, not yet ready for his cock as it stands at full attention against his stomach. âHe didnât even do that for me.â
âAmateur,â Santi whispers before kissing you, taking the time to spread your flavor into every corner of your mouth as his hands delicately venture up your backside and into your hairline.
You could almost convince yourself that things were how they used to be when youâre facing him like this, kissing each other as if youâre dying to know what each other tastes like for the very first time. You could get lost in the smell of his sweat and cologne that havenât changed in all these years, relish in the warmth of his hands as they caress your shaking muscles, and delight in the distinct taste of his kiss. If you tried hard enough, you could almost convince yourself that you still slept together in the same bed, lived in the same house and ate your meals at the same time together; but all that had come and gone. All you have now is this.
âMmm, you taste so good,â you mumble to bring yourself out of that unhelpful line of thinking, playfully running your fingers through his hair.
âOf course I do, I taste like your pussy.â He nips at your bottom lip before kissing you again, giving you another opportunity to savor that tartness between your legs before suddenly pulling away. âNow why donât you hop on and prove to me that Iâm your favorite.â
Wow.
Trying your best not to act too shocked at his words, you nod and lift your hips off his thighs as he grabs hold of himself at the base, stroking the few droplets of precum over his shaft as he takes you in. He looks up as you move your pelvis forward, grinning from ear to ear as you attempt to line yourself up with him, only he keeps moving against you.
âYou wanna act like a little slut, huh?â He glides his cock across your overstimulated bud before lining up with your entrance, watching your mouth fall slack with each pass as every neuron in your body ignites again. âWell, youâre my little slut.â He brushes over it another time, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as bright stars start flashing in the background of your vision. âRight?â
âRight!â You moan as he finally guides himself into your entrance, pulling you down with his other hand on your hip.
He groans as you slowly envelop him, your freshly lubricated walls already contracting around his girth as it stretches you out more than Frankie ever could. With a whisper of your name, his breath quickens as you take him in completely, your thighs now flush against his before you gather the strength to sit up again. He smooths both hands up and down your spine as you begin to ride him, mewling his name against his forehead as those stars become brighter behind closed lids.
He squeezes the base of your neck as he bottoms out again, thrusting up into you with a sort of frantic desperation youâve never seen in him before. Every buck of his hips forces those stars in your eyes to become brighter, to shine in blinding shades of different colors as they spin around on their axes. You hear him grunt something in Spanish, the last of his sounds becoming more breathy as he sends pulse after pulse of heated pleasure shooting up through your nervous system until his thrusts force your body to convulse around him.
âFuck, I love you so much,â he lets slip as he pulls you down one last time, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing against the walls of your living room as he spasms and twitches inside you with a pathetic growl.
âI love you, too,â your innate reaction to his words comes without thinking, your current state hijacking any common sense that might make you respond differently.
Instead of correcting himself or apologizing, he leaves his words hanging in the air, just as naked and bare as he is now as he finishes spilling himself inside of you. He kisses you even deeper, pulling you further into him as if to merge the two of your bodies into one until his thrusts eventually slow to a complete stop.
Continuing to ignore his sudden confession, he rests his head against your chin and guides his palms over the curves of your body as the aftershock of your shared orgasm phases through you both. He hums the tune of your favorite song as he continues smoothing out all the gooseflesh that had formed on your skin until both of your breathing has steadied.
âIâm sorry I left.â
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guys i had this thought now it's driving me crazy
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
imagine watching howl's moving castle with noir.
"a moving castle?" he'd ask himself with a head tilt as he'd adjust his glasses to see the title better. you nodded. "i promise you, it's an amazing film, peter." you'd beam. he'd shrug, and smile. "well, if you say so, love." he'd say as he sits back on the couch as you put the movie on. at first, peter believed this was another, probably childish and whimsical, children's movie that you somehow found nostalgic. he doubted that it was as amazing as you claimed it'd be, but he stood corrected. he was already in awe at the different kinds of colors there were on the screen--all kinds of blues, greens, reds, oranges, and yellows--they all blended beautifully and perfectly, in ways he had never thought would fit together.
he loved the witty dialogue from the characters, his most favorite character being calcifer. "poor little flame," he'd whisper as you two watched the scene where sophie was pressing the pan down on him to cook breakfast. he disliked howl at first, he seemed like quite the womanizer. "oh, if i were sophie's father, i'd never let her leave without me." he'd say as he'd lean forward in his trance as he watched. you giggled as you leaned against him on the couch, his arm wrapped around you as you rested your head against his shoulder. "and why not?" you asked with a smile. peter glanced at you and chuckled. "well... i'd never want my own daughter's heart to be eaten." he said as he adjusted his glasses again.
"you know he doesn't actually consume hearts, he just..." you trailed off as peter held you closer to him. "i know, i know; it's metaphorical. but no matter what..." he said as he placed his hand under your chin and slowly turned your head to look at him as the movie continued playing.
you looked so stunning all the time to peter, every little bit of you shone, literally and figuratively. but here, in the dimly lit living room you two shared--with you looking deep into his mesmerizing eyes--with the light of the film's ending playing out in the background as you two swam in the expanse of each other's eyes for a second or two, you looked breathtaking.
"now... it might just be a movie and all, but... i'd never let anyone eat your heart." he said with a slight chuckle as he took your hands in his, a blush coming on his face as the tips of his ears turned a bright red, along with the bright red and pink on his cheeks. "it sounds weird, i know, but i'd never live with myself if i knew someone else would be capable of stealing you away from me, much more a womanizer like that... howl pendragon. i know how you look at him." he teased as he nuzzled his nose into your cheek.
you chuckled. "he's a drawing, peter..." you responded. "yeah, but... i want to be the guy that makes you feel pretty even on a bad day, a guy who'd make you fall for him over and over and over again even if we've known each other from long ago. the guy who you'd... you know..." he said as he moved his face closer to yours. "...the kind you'd... wanna marry one day." he'd say as your eyelids fluttered, tickling his cheeks.
at that moment, you felt like you were sophie hatter; the humble love interest to the most perfect man in the world, peter parker, who was sort of like howl in the movie. he was witty, he was charming, he was emotional at times... and he loved the real, rawest version of you. even if you believed to yourself you were ugly, you were getting older, that nobody would look at you with such pure love that you didn't believe the world could ever give you--peter was always there to prove you wrong. he was there to prove you were perfect, stunning, and most of all: you were beautiful no matter how old you got, how bad your day was, or how tired you were. you were always, always beautiful to him, that much he knew, and that much would never change--ever.
"i love you, my dearest... you're so beautiful. you're too beautiful for my heart to handle, love..." he'd murmur as you planted a kiss on his soft lips that only wished to kiss and be kissed by your own. be it with lipstick or none, with tears coating them or dry and chapped, be it in the morning, noon, or night--your lips are the only ones he'll love kissing, over and over and over; even when an eternity would pass, he'd still remember and fall in love with the shape, the softness, and the loveliness of your lips--for they are the lips of the most beautiful person peter has ever met, and ever will meet.
"that's my girl." peter muttered as he pulled away, blushing fiercely after you kissed him. "you're red..." you pointed out as you pulled him in for another kiss, with him mumbling out some answer that was pretty much a compliment within a compliment for you. the movie had ended, but your night with peter had just begun.
a/n: gonna leave this here for y'all to be delulu about what you two do after <33
tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @connors-cumslurper @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @fictarian
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